Why Every Woman Needs a BFF

Everyone needs a best friend.  And not just a a really good friend but a real BFF.  In this case, for those of us who are married, we could argue that our husbands are our best friends.  Good.  Whatever.  They should be.  But what about a real BFF that does things a husband can't and never would?  Now that's what I'm talking about.  I'm lucky and pretty popular so I have lots of best friends.  It doesn't mean I'm not popular just because I was born with 3 best friends (my mom and two sisters) and through marriage was blessed with 4 more (sister-in-laws and a MIL).  I still like to attribute it to my charming personality and zany sense of humor.  But blood lines and marriage aside, I do have some incredible best friends.  No relation.  No genetic connection.  No common biological thread.  Just girlfriends. 

The relationship of best friends goes beyond hours of talking, venting and listening, beyond painfully side splitting laugher, and beyond deep conversations and tears.  A best friend will tell you if you have food in your teeth.  A best friend will motion that the booger in your nose is uncomfortably noticeable.   A best friend will warn you that "the toothbrush" story or "the burrito" dance is not appropriate for certain occasions.  You're not offended by the advice of a best friend but rather you respect it and listen knowing that they have your best intentions in mind. 

I have a best friend.  She's amazing.  I can trust her.  With that in mind, I made her swear to an agreement years ago, that should I ever become paralyzed or incapacitated in a way that I can not take care of my personal daily grooming, she will come and pluck and shave my facial hair.  That's it.  I don't ask much.  And just because I'm paralyzed or severely handicapped, I know she'll still love me and and want me to look my best.  I guarantee that you are wondering why I didn't ask her to watch out for my kids or take care of my family should something ever happen to me.  Well, I know that there is a line of people who love my husband and monkies beyond measure and that my family will be generously taken care of.  But my whiskers!  I don't want whiskers.  And my husband would never think to shave or pluck my facial hair.  He would be repulsed by them, but he wouldn't dare touch them.  That is precisely why I have a best friend. 

So here's to best friends.  Here's to girlfriends.  Because really, ladies, what would we do without them?  I love you, Best Friend.  And I still hold you to our agreement.  Know that if needed I will happily return the favor.  No judgements.  No questions asked.  Because that's what best friends are for.  And bottom line....no woman wants whiskers.

The Mini Van

The Mini Van

(dum-dum-dum)

Practical.  Convenient.  Genius.

A sign of aging.

"You're no longer cool".

And proof that you're all grown up.

(sometimes the last one stings the most)

I am a mini van mom.  There's no denying it.  And although some hate to admit it, it is by far the easiest way to transport little people....hands down!  And what is my fav part about my practical and not so stylish transportation?  The automatic sliding doors.  Much like the above picture, minus the Knight Rider theme, my van has magical doors.  Truly magical. 

CJ and I went to lunch the other day.  We parallel parked on Main Street.  Yup.  Parallel.  I've still got it after all these years.  Mr. Thompson would be proud.  It was lunchtime so of course traffic was bustling, so much, in fact, that I considered avoiding the fearsome parallel.  But I braved on.  Ticked off drivers waited patiently for my signal, then my parallel preparation, then backing, then turning, then straightening, (blah, blah, blah) and before long, CJ and I were on our way.

After leaving the restaurant, CJ and I made a quick stop at the music store.  The second floor of the music store has an incredible toy loft.  We couldn't not stop to be dazzled by that.  So upstairs we went.  We inspected the Thomas the Train pieces, took note of the Caldecott book display, and played with a handful of  giant plastic lizards.  But this fun must soon end, so downstairs we went and back onto the street. Our trip to town was nearing an end.  As we walked toward our van I noticed something was awry.  Hmmmmm....what's wrong with this picture?  Why is the door wide open?  And how long  has it been like that?  Am I a victim of crime?  My husband is gonna freak out.  But this is gonna make a really good blog post.

Rewind.

Because we had parked on Main Street, I told CJ to exit the car on the sidewalk side.  He pushed the magical button to open the door as I got out of the van on the opposite side.  I pushed my "lock" button and down the sidewalk we skipped to our lunch date.  And that is where we went wrong.  The door was left open.  (I'm having flashbacks of Monsters Inc.)  The automatic door button was pushed once, but not twice. 

A couple of positives that we can glean from this experience are:

1- I didn't leave my purse in the car.

2- It wasn't snowing or raining that day.  Bonus.

3- We live where we live.

My husband just learned of this experience last night.  Let me enforce that he was less than impressed with my parenting/grown-up skills.  In fact, he said something to the effect of, "it's amazing that you and your sisters have survived as long as you have".  I don't know why he's gotta drag my sisters into this, but, whatever.  I'm just happy to report that the automatic sliding doors, despite my recent oversight, are still, and will forever be, the best part of a mini van.

Now, back to the idea of combining Knight Rider and the mini van.  I think I'm onto something.

De-Christma-tizing My Way

I have finally de-Christma-tized!  (clap, clap, clap)  Yes, the applause is necessary.  And, yes, it is the end of January.  Don't judge.  For those of you who took your tree down and had a clean house by January 2nd, whatev's.  By the time I realized it was January 12th and my house was still splattered with Ho-Ho-Ho and a giant artificial tree, I seriously considered leaving the tree up and competing with Grandma for the best Valentine's Day tree.  But, no.  Maybe next year.  Anywho, here are a few of my un-decorating highlights.

#1 - Wrapping your artificial tree and storing it in one piece is by far the biggest bonus to having a fake tree.  85 circles around the tree with a roll of plastic wrap and snap!  Done.  Easy peasy lemon squeezy.

#2 - My BFF Costco provided me with this 007 plastic wrap with which to wrap my artificial tree.  This single roll has wrapped my tree with love and warmth for 3 years and it is still going strong.  Check out that roll compared to a standard grocery store roll.  It's huge!  (he-he)  Thank you Costco.  Thank you for tasty samples, smashing prices, amazing bulk, delicious pretzels and incredible plastic wrap.  I salute you.

#3 - Oh, Hoover, how would I survive de-Christma-tizing without you?  Caroline Ingles has no idea what she's missing.  Your vacuum bag holds enough cold cereal to feed my family for a week.  And I'm certain you are holding enough pine needles internally to create a mini of our mama Christmas tree.  Yes, I did in fact take a photo of a small portion of my dirty carpet.  I'm not proud of it, but I'm not too proud to admit it.  

#4 - One box of Christmas joy will no longer grace our home next holiday season.  To those items cut from the team, the D.I. will love you.  Here's to a job well done. (standing ovation)

#5 - Dust spray is magical.  It's mind boggling how dirty and dusty an old white t-shirt can get in one post-holiday cleaning.  (Yes, you heard me correctly.  I do dust with old clothing.  Questions?  Comments?)  And to think that not only is my wood furniture sparkling when I'm done polishing, but, why, with a lemon fresh scent, how can you go wrong?

#6 - Last, but certainly not least, Wendy, how I heart our emotional relationship.  After lifting and cleaning and sweating and swearing and twirling and wrapping a 9-foot tree, you quenched my thirst in ways that words can not describe.  And to think that a sandwich, fries and a drink are only $2.99!  Unheard of!  And may I say that your new sea salt seasoned fries are quite heavenly.

And that's how it's done, ladies.  Mission De-Christma-tizing complete.  Until next year.

Beach Day

It was Beach Day at school yesterday.  Uhhhhhh...probably the most miserable day at the beach imaginable if you ask me.  Good thing they're kids and easy to please.  I would've been turned off by the 6 degree weather, ice, snow, and 5 layers of clothing.  Well, I take back the last one.  Some people should wear 5 layers of clothing to beach day.  Just sayin'.

And, yes, I had to beg for smiles.  They're teeth were chattering and even the buttons on my camera were slightly frozen.  No lie.  But how can you not smile with a side pony and rad shades?  Those things just make the world a better place.

Healthy Eating = Frequent Peeing

I've been participating in this healthy eating competition with some family and friends.  It's called the "Game On Diet".  You basically eat 5 small meals a day, drink TONS of water, exercise 20 minutes a day, cut out sugars and soda, and talk trash between teams.  Yes, we're on teams.  So if one person messes up, it effects the whole team.  Especially with the holidays just passing, it's nice to eat healthy and be more aware of what I'm shoving in my face.  I feel better when I eat right and eating every 2-4 hours makes sure I'm never really hungry.  But the water......Ahhhhhh!  Dreadful!

Whoever recommended that the human body should intake 2-3 liters of water on a daily basis was surely connected to a catheter.  Either that or he would have apologetically recanted.  I wake up.  I pee.  I eat breakfast.  I pee.  I sneeze.  I pee.  I do dishes.  I pee.  I blink.  I pee. 

Let me introduce you to something I heard about years ago on TV.  It's called the Stadium Pal.

This catheter was invented for hysterical sports fans.  The Stadium Pal straps to the lower leg, the tubing then fishing up the pant leg, remaining hidden from onlookers but creating instant bladder relief.  In turn, sports fans can drink all the beverages they please while watching their game of choice and never leave their seat to take a leak.  True story.  And yes, they really exist and one can be yours for the reasonable price of $29.95.  And, ladies, hold on to your seats.  They have a Stadium Gal as well.  I'm certain it would solve all of your post-birthing needs. 

I'm not gonna lie.  Drinking 3 liters of water is not my walk in the park.  I don't typically like water.  I don't normally drink that much water.  I like to mix it up with a little Diet Coke or Mt. Dew here, some Kool-aid there, a glass of milk, and maybe some water if I'm feeling especially parched.  But no, water is not my beverage of choice.  So for health reasons the Game On has been really good for me to help me break my bad drinking habits.  However, if you choose to increase your water intake whether for something such as the Game On Diet or because you're an obsessively over indulgent lazy sports fan, I would strongly recommend either staying close to a bathroom at all times, or researching the Stadium Pal. 

Memory Box

In all the times we've moved, whether across town or out of town, there are a few boxes and Rubbermaids that get moved but never get opened or unpacked.  These four boxes were found in one of those special forgotten Rubbermaids.  These spectacularly decorated treasures are our Memory Boxes.  Back when I was a cute mom, each new year I would get an old box, let the kids decorate it, and then we would fill it with favorite memories from the previous year and our hopes and dreams for the new year.  We would trace the hands and feet of the little people, record heights and weights (for adults too...vomit!), and throw in some photos of our favorite moments.  If the monkies were feeling especially generous, they would drop a little trinket or toy in the box, never to play with it again, but to be donated for future walks down Memory Lane.

Lil G was only 2 when we put together our first Memory Box.  Her goals were to go to a movie and learn how to go potty.  Hall Monitor was 3 that year.  Some of her goals were to "eat snow", "learn to ride my bike", and "leave mom alone".  As funny as those little goals sound and as much as we laughed at them as we read them earlier this week, I realized that my little Hall Monitor is quickly approaching her teens.  Yikes!  And looking back at that year of her trying to learn how to "leave mom alone", it was most likely because I was overwhelmed with 3 kids and told her to leave me alone.  Ouch!  Not good.  Here comes the motherly guilt.  So in honor of her, I devote this year to her not wanting to leave me alone and me not leaving her alone.  (She's gonna hate me.)  It's time for some serious bonding, whether she wants it or not.  I've gotta kick it in the butt before she's too embarrassed to admit that we're related.

Welcome New Year

Isn't this pretty?

Not so pretty when it's -5 degrees and you're scraping the windows of your mini van with a credit card.  Why a credit card, you ask?  Well, I do own a snow scraper.  It sits beside me on a daily basis as we travel to and fro.  But for those special occasions when Mother Nature doesn't want a thick coat of ice to be bothersome to us little people, that nasty thin coat of ice kicks my trash and just ruins my day.  No ice scraper can compete with that frozen treat.  The ice scraper only catches bits and pieces of it as it scrapes leaving lines in the ice.  It just doesn't work.  Well then, Smarty Pants, turn on your defrost!  Is that what you're thinking now?  (applause)  Not only a genius idea but a no nonsense approach.  Hold up.  Small prob.  My thermostat is out of comission which means no warm air.  In fact, I'm doing cartwheels if I get any warm air at all.  Scientific fact: cold air doesn't melt ice.  Am I annoyed by this?  Not so much anymore.  Sadly, I'm kinda use to it.  But I just keeping telling myself that Caroline Ingles had it worse.  It softens the blow. 

As much as winter drives me crazy on days of credit card ice scraping, frozen car doors and shuffling kids in and out of the driver's seat, and curtains frozen to the inside of the living room window, this picture really makes it worth it.  That is, of course, as long as I'm sitting inside my house wrapped in a Snuggie and sipping hot cocoa.  I love how every single little twig and branch is perfectly coated in white powder.  Amazing!  Do you sense my new attempt at optimism?  It's on my list of resolutions.  So here's to a new year of looking at the good.  Laughing at the ugly.  Surviving the bad.  And enjoying the ride. 

Happy New Year.