Tag Archives: Dunkin Donuts

Jlee’s Review – Project Repat

21 May

I write a lot about how I’m obsessed with Groupon. I really am. I’ve bought several Groupon Goods products and have written reviews on a couple. (Read here and here).

This Groupon, from Project Repat, I recently purchased after I had been eyeing it for some time. The Groupon was $65 for a 5’ x 6’ fleece backed blanket made by Project Repat. The front of the blanket is YOUR OLD T-SHIRTS!

I thought this was such a neat concept. All Project Repat blankets are made in the USA by an individual earning a fair and living wage. For $65 I was giving a $130 donation. I realize I wasn’t being totally self-less here considering I got an awesome blanket out of the deal, and at the discounted Groupon price, but I do hope that sharing this organization with my readers will help get the word out about a company “Cut and Sewn in the USA”.

Project Repat is perfect for (according to their website www.ProjectRepat.com) the runner, the graduate and the hoarder. How true this is! I’m a little bit of all 3 in one…I’m not normally a hoarder; I tend to throw everything away. I’m truly a purger. It’s very important for me to purge, purge, purge, or I get anxiety having too much crap lying around.

But, when it comes to old t-shirts I guess I am a bit of a hoarder. I couldn’t bring myself to discard old sorority tees, tees I picked up visiting different colleges, running and sports tees I no longer wear but could not possibly throw away…I had a tee covered in blood, sweat and tears from the Susan G. Koman 60-mile 3-Day Breast Cancer Walk from 2008. The walk was this amazing experience that sparked friendships and emotions. Even though the tee was starting to yellow I still could not throw it away – it’s like a medal to me of this triumphant event. I had several Italian tees that were starting to get holes in them…see I could go on and on.

I could no longer even close my t-shirt drawer yet I rarely wear t-shirts! And yet I still couldn’t throw the shirts away. I missed the boat the first time Project Repat appeared on Groupon, so you can guess the second time I saw it I purchased my blanket immediately. I couldn’t be more thrilled with the results! More on that later.

Here are some quick deets on what you do in case you’re interested in your own t-shirt blanket. You can also get more information on the website under FAQ.

Side note: This would also be a great gift for Father’s Day!

-        For my 5 x 6 fleece backed blanket I needed to send in 30 panels. This means you can send between 15 – 30 shirts. You can use one side of 30 shirts, both sides of 15 shirts, or any combination in between.

-        They are looking for a 1 ft by 1 ft square image to use. If your image is slightly bigger it’s OK, but some of the image may be cut off. Project Repat did a fab job with this because I did send a couple tees with larger images.

-        Project Repat can use any soft material. Think flannels, sweatshirts, dress shirts and jerseys!

Another thing that caught my eye about this great organization is that Project Repat and NuPath, Inc. are production partners. NuPath, Inc. is a non-profit organization employing individuals with disabilities.  The NuPath staff works diligently to train people with disabilities how to do work that makes them feel valued and appreciated. What a great cause!

Photo courtesy of NuPath, Inc.

Photo courtesy of NuPath, Inc.

Project Repat currently has a KickStarter campaign running. See the project here if you’re not quite ready for a bigger purchase but believe in helping the cause.

For more information about Project Repat go to www.ProjectRepat.com. You can also follow them on all social media – links are on their webpage.

And here are some pics of the final product! My amazing blanket ~ love, love, love it! :D

Getting my t-shirts ready to send off!

Getting my t-shirts ready to send off!

Project Repat teesProject Repat teesProject Repat teesProject Repat tees

Finished blanket...just beautiful right?!?

Finished blanket…just beautiful right?!?

Tags: , , , ,

Jlee’s Review – The Banana Diet

22 Feb

bb

I would say about once a year I decide to tighten my belt. Or um loosen in this case because my True Religion jeans don’t fit. Same thing happened last year – remember 5 Days of Insanity?

I think it has something to do with winter and needing a little extra padding. I tend to hibernate in the winter – after all I just admitted to watching 5 hours in a row of Bethenny Ever After – and during the holidays I always loosen up a little bit. Instead of one cookie I eat 10. And now here we are…approaching spring…and the other day I button my True Religion jeans (that barely even made it over my ass) and I’ve got this role hanging over my pants.

I looked in the mirror completely disgusted. “What is this?” I asked my husband.

“What?”

“This!?!” I say while squeezing the roll. “You don’t SEE this?!?”

“I think you look pretty damn good,” he says, giving me the eye.

While I do appreciate that, deep down no matter what your size you know what is acceptable for you. And barely zipping my True Religion jeans is not acceptable for me.

I’m thinking this is going to turn into a yearly thing….approaching spring feels like a good time to hit the reset button. Start fresh. Regroup. Time to remind myself that moderation is key and blah blah blah.

So I Googled ‘Japanese diet’. I seriously did. I mean the Japanese are skinny right?

I even Googled ‘fat Japanese person’ just as a reference for this post and look what I stumbled upon…Fat in Japan? You’re Breaking the Law, though I don’t know if this law is still in effect?

Deciding the Japanese diet probably wasn’t for me I decided on the Banana diet.

Photo courtesy of truththeory.com

Photo courtesy of truththeory.com

Here it is:

For 3-4 days you eat 3-5 bananas/day combining them with 3-4 cups of low-fat milk. If you’re not a big milk drinker you can drink almond milk.

Quick side note: I’m obsessed with almond milk. I started drinking it about six months ago. I don’t drink a ton of milk, and this milk never goes bad. It lasts forever. If I buy a ½ gallon of almond milk at about $4 it will last me for two weeks. Plus it has fewer calories. Win-win!

You can also eat your banana with plain yogurt. You can eat the banana and the yogurt separately or you can blend one banana with one cup of milk and/or yogurt to make a smoothie.

According to the website this 3-4 day banana diet will help you lose 6 pounds. Not only do I have about 5 pounds to lose but I also have to get my appetite down – it’s like I’ve been starving all day every day for the past 2-3 weeks! – and clean out the processed foods. Way too much pizza and take-out lately.

They also have a 7 day diet menu featured on their website.

I opted to do the 3 day diet, but I did it for 4 days.

Here is my experience:

silkDay 1: Day 1 was an absolute breeze. While I can’t completely skip coffee I did decide to detox from Dunkin Donuts iced coffee for four days while on this “cleanse”. I did make a small coffee in the AM but instead of cream I added almond milk and 1 tsp of sugar – which for me is intense. My coffee is like dessert…cream, sugar, the whole nine yards.

I ate four bananas throughout my work day. I started at 8:30 AM and timed my eating out until 4:30 pm to eat 1 banana and drink 1 cup of milk every 2-3 hours. I was feeling pretty good!

When I got home I made a banana smoothie. I blended my 5th banana, 1 more cup of milk, plain Greek yogurt and a handful of ice. It was pretty delicious!

Throughout the day I sipped on water and Green tea.

Yes, I was hungry, but as I said above I’ve been hungry regardless of what I’ve eaten for the past 2-3 weeks. So before even when I was actually eating I was still starving. I went to bed feeling content and good about myself, whereas the last week of binging has left me going to bed feeling very blah.

Day 2: Day 2 I woke up feeling hungry. Not a good start. I sort of had the shakes too. I made my coffee at home with almond milk and skipped the sugar. I walked in the office at 7:59 and ate a banana.

I’m not going to lie. Day 2 was a struggle. Day 2 I thought about breaking down and getting Dunkin Donuts iced coffee and knew that would get me through. And then I reminded myself that is what heroin addicts say.

In an effort now to just prove a point to myself that I can go four days without DD I decided to stay firm. I mean, for the love of God, there are Americans overseas fighting a war, and I’m having a breakdown in my office about not having Dunkin Donuts iced coffee? Good grief.

At noon I broke down and ate a hard-boiled egg. In the 7 day version you are allowed to eat hard-boiled eggs. I figured it was better than breaking down completely and getting a Big Mac. I also chugged 1 cup of milk in 4 seconds flat. I set down the cup and wished it was a glass of red wine, but oh well. On Friday I plan on getting hammered. On iced coffee and wine.

For dinner I ate my banana smoothie plus I indulged in a bowl of lettuce. Not salad. Lettuce. Just lettuce. In a bowl. It’s actually not very good.

I was really aggravated and crabby all evening. My husband yelled at me to not take my hunger out on him. I yelled at him to not talk to me because he is annoying. I went to bed at 8:30 PM relieved to end the day.

Day 3: I woke up feeling not as hungry and in better spirits. I put on a pair of jeans – tight! Ugh! – and decided this is a good thing seeing as though my jeans are still tight.

I made coffee at home and managed to hold off on my banana and glass of almond milk until 8:30 AM.  At noon I ate a hard-boiled egg.

I think it’s weird that I don’t feel that bad….I felt pretty energetic and happy. I just wished I could go get Dunkin Donuts. What does this say about me? I find it slightly alarming, but my husband says it’s the hunger talking. I’m not hungry, per se, but I’m really sick of eating the same thing.

I keep reminding myself that I only have one more day to go. I will take pride in successfully taking off 4 days of DD to get myself in ‘check’…Four days of remembering what it feels like to view food as gas for your body as opposed to the luxury of eating…

I definitely felt the best on Day 3. I even made it to the YMCA and signed up for a bootcamp class. I did totally suck in bootcamp. I think of myself as a somewhat in shape person so I’m not sure if I’m just not as in shape as I thought or if it was the fact that I am consuming fewer calories than usual. Either way, I did complete bootcamp and felt pretty damn good about myself!

When we got home I sat with the Chiquita to watch the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. She ate her goldfish, and I snacked (1/3 cup) on nut and berry mix from Trader Joe’s. It was quite tasty.

I slept like a rock.

Day 4: I woke up feeling like it should be Friday. It should be my Dunkin Donuts day. Ugh. I seriously have another day of this?

I don’t feel that hungry, but I’m just so over this…

I remembered I have an event tonight. I will have to attend without eating or drinking. I will stay strong and do it because I’ve come this far; I’m not bailing now.

I sipped Green tea after my first milk and banana combo. For lunch I had a hard-boiled egg again. The hard-boiled egg has been a nice addition to this diet. I did also snack on my Trader Joe’s nut and berry mix. I told you, I’m losing steam, but I am staying strong.

TunacharlieMy uncle told me that he has heard of a modified version of the banana diet from a friend who is a nutritionist/body builder. He said that when his friend is in competition mode his diet changes to a banana/tuna diet. I think this actually doesn’t sound that bad but remember I make my tuna with mayo, mustard, celery…I don’t think I could even eat plain tuna without gagging. It doesn’t help that I have a fish phobia. But, something to think about if you like tuna.

Reminds me of the dude I worked with in high school who ate plain tuna in the can every single day. We called him Tuna Ass Breath Man. To this day I still call him Tuna. LOL

I continue to repeat in my head: Just get through today to have Dunkin Donuts tomorrow. What kind of sick obsession is this? It’s worse than my obsession with Juicy Couture. Or Giuliana Rancic.

Day 5: I made it. I know you’re wondering if I ate or drank at last night’s event, and I’m happy to report that I didn’t. :) Shame on you for doubting me! I did, however, attend with an 8 oz. coffee. I figured if I had the coffee taste in my mouth I’d be less likely to falter. My coffee was made with almond milk and 1 tsp. of sugar. I stuck through to the end.

This morning I pulled in the Dunkin Donuts drive thru excited to get my iced coffee. I’d been debating on my ride over if I should get it with skim milk or cream. I opted for skim milk. It’s not the same, but wasn’t bad and if felt great to take the first sip.

DD

When I got to work I even had a banana.

I feel great. :)

Some common questions:

1. Aren’t you constipated?
Nope! My poops have been plentiful!

2. Are you really eating only bananas?
I am really eating everything I described above.

3. Aren’t you getting sick of bananas?
Fuck yeah.

4. How do you feel on the banana diet versus the juice cleanse?
I feel a lot better on the banana diet then I felt on the juice cleanse. On the juice cleanse I was very sore. I felt sick and lethargic. I had the shakes and diarrhea. I had headaches. I was a mess. On the banana diet I feel pretty good honestly! I really just can’t get over how much I miss Dunkin Donuts iced coffee. I’m convinced they put drugs in it because I am drinking one small coffee (8 oz.) per day with almond milk and lite or no sugar so it’s not like I’m not drinking any coffee at all.

5. Would you do it again?
Absolutely! It gave me a great sense of accomplishment in addition to the reset my body needed. It’s also cheap and easy to do – just buy some milk and bananas.

6. Did you lose any weight?
I’m honestly not sure. I don’t weigh myself. I have to try on my True Religion jeans this weekend. What I can tell you is that I feel great. I feel not only a sense of accomplishment but my body feels great! My stomach looks smaller, my pants fit better today and maybe I’m just in love with myself today but I honestly feel like I even look better! I highly recommend this diet!

Please use the comments section below to tell us of any outrageous diets you’ve tried!

Tags: , , , , , , ,

What Are You Putting in Your Mouth?

18 Feb

I am a firm believer in vitamins. I feel like prescription medications are often over prescribed and over taken. I don’t claim to be an expert; however, I thought I would share my daily vitamin intake with you for a couple of reasons.

1. My friends always ask me for vitamin recommendations because they know I strongly believe in taking vitamins on a daily basis.

2. I recently began reading a blog a gal writes on her struggles with giving up alcohol and the death of her father. She shares her struggles with depression/anxiety and staying sober. She doesn’t want to be on any kind of anxiety medication but is suffering from disruptive panic attacks. I’ve never suffered from panic attacks, but I do suffer from social anxiety. In a recent post she asked readers for suggestions on different supplements to take to ease her symptoms. When responding to her I got to thinking – maybe others wonder this too?

I was on Prozac after the birth of the Chiquita when I was diagnosed with Post Partum Depression. I give my doctors a big F as in fail when it came to my treatment because they left me out in the middle of the ocean lying on a piece of wood like Rose in Titanic. I knew something was wrong. I knew I wasn’t improving, and I continued to reach out for help. My doctor’s answer (yes, THIS doctor) was to continue to increase my Prozac.

Increase, increase, increase…more of anything is the recipe for success. Right? WRONG! Each time my meds were increased the more depressed and anxious I became. I was getting worse – going from not just wishing for God to take me in my sleep but actually driving on I355 and imagining my Mercedes-Benz smashed into the concrete barrier. Bam. It’s over. Relief….

This went on for months. When I hit rock bottom I fired all my doctors. I went off all prescription medication*. Cold turkey. That’s it. No more meds. *This is not recommended. It’s what I had to do for myself at the time to try to regain some control, but this approach can backfire.

My mom is a big believer in vitamins and supplements and urged me to at least – if nothing else – begin a vitamin regimen. This is not expert opinion or advice. I’m simply sharing with you what is now working for me to keep my depression/anxiety under control. I am now taking a small dose of Prozac which has helped to take the ‘edge’ off a bit. In addition to Prozac I also take these vitamins on a daily basis:

1. Carlson – The Very Finest Fish Oil

fish oilVitamins can really add up! If you have to pick only one vitamin to take I highly recommend fish oil.

Fish oil is a good source of Omega-3 fatty acids and a lot of research shows that fish oil supplements may help ease symptoms of depression. See Mayoclinic.com.

This fish oil is to be taken twice a day – preferably one in the AM and one in the PM. I’m not sure why, but I was told it works better in your body when taken at different times as opposed to taking two in the AM.

One thing many people complain about when taking fish oil is that you can burp up a nasty fish taste. This brand I am sharing with you has a yummy orange taste – you can even chew them – but I do not.

2. Co-Enzyme B-Complex By Now Foods

BAfter I quit all my medication I went to The Fruitful Yield for advice on vitamins/supplements to take to help ease my depression/anxiety symptoms.

On the weekends The Fruitful Yield has a licensed nutritionist on staff to answer any questions you have. I went on a Saturday, found the nutritionist and said, “I have Post Partum Depression. I’ve gone off all my medication. Tell me what to buy.”

This product was one that she recommended. Co-Enzyme Vitamin B supports a positive mood and improves energy. See Wellness Resources.com.

There are different forms of B-Vitamins and Co-Enzyme includes all of the Bs, which are B1, B2, B3, B5, B6 and B12.

I have actually recommended this product to a few people who now take this vitamin on a daily basis. I find that if I skip a day of Co-Enzyme B I am lethargic the next day. I definitely notice an increase in energy while on this supplement.

3. Vitamin D3 – 2000 IUs

DVitamin D deficiency, the result of low vitamin D intake and poor sun exposure, has been linked to depression and Type 2 diabetes. See article here.

Here is some research on the daily recommended doses of vitamin D from The Mayo Clinic.

Because I’m vitamin D deficient and I do suffer from depression/anxiety I take at least one vitamin (2,000 IUs) each day to be sure I’m getting an adequate dose.

From Mayo Clinic: For mood disorders, 400-800 IU daily or 100,000 IU weekly has been taken by mouth for up to one month to improve symptoms of depression associated with seasonal affective disorder.

4. L-Theanine By Now for Stress Management

L-theanineWhen I went off all my medication I was struggling with feelings of being overwhelmed at all times. One task in front of me left me feeling as if I was drowning in ‘things to do’. I found during this time that my anxiety was more prevalent than I had known.

I often had a nervous feeling in the pit of my stomach and dreaded to leave the house unless I was going to familiar places…work, my grocery store, my mall, my Dunkin Donuts, etc. Going anywhere out of the ordinary made me extremely anxious and sick to my stomach.

The nutritionist at The Fruitful Yield explained that I absolutely had to get this supplement. She compared it to anti-anxiety meds and said that she often used this to control her own anxiety symptoms.

You can take one Vcap 1 to 2 times daily as needed. I like the ‘as needed’ because you don’t have to take it every day. You can simply take it when you’re feeling stressed or anxious.

Maybe it’s nothing honestly? Who knows. When I opted to go back on Prozac – a much smaller dose this time – I’ve not felt the need to take this as often anymore. I showed it to my new shrink who gave me the OK to take it with the Prozac.

I sort of had the feeling she was laughing inside since I know most doctors strongly believe in pharmaceuticals and don’t like their patients opting for “natural” methods. But, maybe she wasn’t. Maybe it was my anxiety. Either way, even if it’s all in my head, when I have that feeling like I want to crack skulls (thank you for that aphorism, Bethenny Frankel) I take one tablet and I feel better! :)

Bethenny is my new obsession....I still love my future BFF Giuliana, but I have a crush on Bethenny!

Bethenny is my new obsession….I still love my future BFF Giuliana, but I have a crush on Bethenny!

Please use the comments section to let me know of any vitamins/supplements that have helped you with depression/anxiety. There are other things I can recommend, like this Goji which I used to drink to help balance my hormones….

Goji

But, the above four vitamins/supplements I gave you are what I do take and recommend. Feel free to ask me any questions – I can give you responses on how these products affect me, however, PLEASE be sure to seek medical consulting before taking any and all vitamins/supplements with your physician.

Tags: , , , , ,

Hello does my butt look good in these jeans?

24 Oct

A friend recently shared a blog with me. She thought as a writer I would appreciate the writing style and humor. Or wait. Maybe she thinks I wear Mom Jeans.

O.M.G.

No, it can’t be number two because I don’t buy my jeans at Old Navy.

Thank the Lord.

Go read this article so that you can be sure you’re not wearing Mom Jeans. It’s a cardinal sin. I mean, do you want to end up single because your husband thinks you have two asses? I don’t either. So read on.

Mom Jeans and The Dreaded “Long Butt”

—

I like to sell and shop at this resale shop by my work – Clothes Attic’d for you locals – and I spied a pair of True Religion jeans last week.

The jeans were my size but cost $55.

I desperately need want a pair of new jeans, and I’d been thinking about heading to Express to make my purchase. No, not because of the article I shared with you, so no, I do not wear Mom Jeans because I’ve been buying Express jeans all along!

That said, while they aren’t the most expensive jeans out there I’m still buying diapers (damn kid does NOT want to go on the potty) so jeans for Mom aren’t really something on the list….

I thought: I don’t feel like trying these on…I don’t feel like paying $55 for used jeans…nah.

Then I had a dream about them.

Side note: If I see something while I’m shopping and I think I like it but I’m not sure if I do I hold out. Then I see if I have a dream about said item. If I DO dream about it then it means I must go back and get it. If I don’t dream about it then I don’t really want it. True story. It works!

I’ve obviously heard of the brand True Religion but I had no clue what the jeans retailed for. I did a quick Google search. Holy cow! $250. Well, $55 is quite a steal then.

On my lunch break I head over to Clothes Attic’d and figure if the jeans are still on the rack it’s a sign from God.

Jeans are there. Yippee!

I go to the fitting room to try them on.

They look good in the front…flared…I love the flare trend by the way and am so glad its back in style.

I turn around to check out my derierre in the mirror.

2 minutes inside Jlee’s head: How do the pockets look? Are they the right size? I think my butt looks good? Does my butt look good? Can I make returns here? I like these now, but what if I get home and decide my butt doesn’t look good? What if they’re [insert the horror music] Mom Jeans! Oh my gosh, what do I do? What did the article say again? Oh my gosh, I can’t remember. Should I look it up on my phone?

I decide to take a picture. Of my ass. In the mirror.

I take out my phone. OK, I’ll send this to my friends and say “How’s my ass?”

I mean, this is important! They’ll understand. They’ll drop everything and respond.

I discover it’s really hard to take a picture of your backside in the mirror. After this awful attempt I decided this wasn’t going to work.

Nice pic, right?

Now what?

I could walk out of the fitting room…yeah…I could walk up to the checkout and ask the ladies.

“Um…hi…can you tell me how my ass looks? See, I’m really concerned that these may be Mom Jeans. I’m actually having a panic attack in the fitting room. I popped a Xanax and decided to come out here and ask you. So, here, I’ll turn around. Um…so how does my ass look?”

*Crickets*

But, I did actually do this, only I didn’t pop a Xanax. I didn’t come out wearing the jeans. And I didn’t ask them how my ass looked. So I guess I really didn’t actually do as mentioned above, but when I went to the checkout I did start babbling incessantly about Mom Jeans and can I return these jeans if they are in fact Mom Jeans and how I read this article about Mom Jeans … I was going on and on. I needed a Xanax.

I came back to work and tweeted the article to the Owner, who did say I have seven days to return said jeans, but also told me that True Religion is a great brand and basically cannot be Mom Jeans. Like it’s an oxymoron. Still feeling a bit unsure I made the purchase and said I would go home and check out my ass in the comfort of my own home.

And you know I would also ask all my friends, my husband, my mom….Mom Jeans are not something to mess around with.

Well asking my husband is useless because he likes my ass in anything, or preferably in nothing, and he was more than excited to be my photographer. I told my girlfriends I feel like the True Religion jeans pockets are too long. What do you think?

These are the exact texts:

I feel like the pockets are too long

Pix are not turning out but here’s my ass in Express. Way better right?

Express

True Religion

My friends received four pictures of my ass. They lucked out because my husband insisted on taking about 20, then asked to take some with the jeans off which I scoffed at saying, “We’re not doing a photo shoot, we’re doing research. Blog research. This is important!”

He just doesn’t get it.

I then proceeded to check out chicks asses all weekend long. In line at Dunkin Donuts, at the grocery store, at the gas station…my husband was even checking out asses and giving feedback. He even asked a chick where she got her jeans from. Yeah, it was embarrassing.

I still haven’t made a final decision and time is running out.

Awesome friend’s response: “I like the True Religion a lot!!!! Ur ass looks great girl, i swear!!”

What do you think?

Tags: , , , , , ,

#10: Does It Make Me a Bad Mom If – I Don’t Run and Hug My Child When She Falls

27 Sep

I haven’t had a bad mom story for a while. I’ve actually been quite a good mom lately. I’m not saying this to brag, there have certainly been moments along the way.

One of those moments was this summer when the Chiquita was sitting in my low-to-the-ground beach chair. We were watching Hubs wash his car and enjoying the warm sunshine when the Chiquita insisted on climbing up onto my lap.

“Do you want to sit?” I asked her.

She nods.

“Okay. I’ll go get another chair.”

I got another chair and set it next to mine. I scootch her out of my chair and say, “There. Go sit in your chair.”

I had gotten her the exact same chair. I suppose I could have just sat in the empty chair but I was trying to make a point. That being kids move for adults.

So she’s playing in the chair now. Like bouncing around and getting up and down.

“Stop playing in the chair,” I tell her.

She looks at me and laughs while she continues to bounce around and eat her Goldfish. She also continues to play in the chair.

“Stop playing in the chair, Eva.” I say again, this time with the mom tone. “You’re going to fall!”

Not even one minute later she falls backwards in the chair, the Goldfish falling out of her cup and are now all over her face and chest as she lays backwards in the chair that now lays on its back in the grass with her legs straight up.

The Chiquita’s face looked almost the same as Kim K. except Chiquita also was covered in goldfish. Can you see why I laughed??

I looked at her, and as God is my witness I burst out laughing. I couldn’t stop laughing. There was a wet Goldfish stuck to her cheek. Her mouth was wide open.

I don’t think she could believe I was laughing at her.

I composed myself and yelled, “See! That’s why I told you not to play in the chair!”

Then I set down my iced coffee, got out of my chair, picked her up and hugged her hard.

“Now are you OK?” I said, squeezing her little body tight. “That’s why I told you not to play in the chair,” I repeated, nicely this time.

“Yes,” she said as I picked the wet Goldfish off her face and threw it in the grass.

Then I laughed for about another five minutes.

I would say that’s a bad mom moment….

And then there was last night.

I was reading 50 Shades Darker (yes, yayy I finally finished 50 Shades of Grey!), and my eye lids were slowlyyy closing. I was determined to finish the chapter. I’m one of those weird people who hates setting a book down in the middle of a chapter. Or does everyone hate that? I mean, it seems normal enough to me.

I set the book on my chest. I will finish this chapter…I think. I’m slowly drifting off into dreamland when I hear a little voice yelling, “Daddy! Daddy!!”

These days the Chiquita has been all about me, which I love, so I was surprised she was calling for Daddy. In hindsight I’m wondering if it’s because she thought she might get in trouble. Hubs is definitely the softie.

“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!” I keep hearing followed by whining. Not crying, let me clarify. Just that whiny fake crying crap.

I wake up and see Hubs sitting next to me playing his video game. The book is still on my chest. And the Chiquita is still whining.

Knowing I’m not finishing my chapter tonight I set 50 Shades on my nightstand and drag myself out of bed thinking: What is this kid still doing awake?

I walk into her room prepared to yell: That’s enough! It’s time for bed, now go to sleep!

I walk in the door. I stop dead in my tracks. The Chiquita is standing there. Yes, she is standing next to the crib holding her bear, Mr. Bear, in her arms and holding onto the crib.

Holy sh*t! I got out…now what?!?

She looks at me.

I look at her.

I just stand there.

Finally I muster out, “Wh-what are you do-doing?”

Then, “How did you get out of your crib?”

Hubs yells from the master, “What? She got out of her crib!?!”

He runs into the Chiquita’s bedroom. “Curls!” (his nickname for her) He yells as he runs up to her. He takes her in his arms and says, “Are you OK baby?” He’s hugging and kissing her.

In my defense, I was probably still half asleep, but I am snapped awake and standing there feeling like a complete idiot!

Holy shit, my kid fell/climbed/jumped whatever out of her crib, and I don’t even pick her up and hug her and ask her if she’s hurt? No, I just stand there like a complete shit head staring at her.

Wow, I’m a bad mom.

I jealously watch my husband console our daughter. God, how does he come out looking like the knight in shining armor when he wasn’t even going to get his lazy ass out of bed?

“Eva sandwich!” I finally yell, running over to hug them both with the Chiquita snuggled tightly in the middle.

I plead insanity, because I really do think I was half asleep and completely shocked to see my kid – whom I placed inside a crib – now standing outside of a crib.

At least I didn’t laugh at her. Pretty sure I redeemed myself with Munchkins the next day. :)

Tags: , ,

When It Comes to Sex My Husband Has Alzheimer’s

20 Sep

When a kid comes along the sex life starts to dwindle. I’m not proud of it. I always said that I would never be the mom who doesn’t work out, who doesn’t get weekly mani/pedis, or who doesn’t have [enough] sex with my husband…but I am that mom. Life gets in the way.

I’m not making excuses, but I guess I am, I mean, I work full time (not that SAHMs don’t have it just as hard if not harder), I race home to make dinner, pack bags, spend a little time with my two-year old who is growing like a weed, I write a blog, I’m trying to sell a book AND keep up with the Kardashians, not to mention reading the latest books, i.e., currently reading 50 Shades of Grey.

I’m not proud of it, I do try to make my marriage a priority, but I just can’t do it all. At the end of all this I’m exhausted. Hell, I’m exhausted just thinking about it. I fall into bed, and not in a cute Victoria’s Secret get up, but in my lounge pants and tee and wrap myself up in my blankie (yes, at 33 I do have a blankie, and I love it). My husband loathes it and says: “I can’t even get next to you! You’re wrapped in this cocoon.” He proceeds to claim he ‘hates this thing’ and wants to burn it.

I don’t write a lot about my marriage out of respect for my husband and my bonus daughters, but I do think it’s important to share that marriage is hard. We all know it’s hard. It takes work. I leave my full time job to come home and work a job at home and that is being a wife and a mother and its fucking exhausting.

I’m not complaining though. Two years ago I was complaining. I was drowning and couldn’t pull myself out of the tide that sucked me in and was bringing me down. Two years ago I wanted to run away from it all.

Now I relish in it all and drink when I need to. I have an amazing husband – I mean he puts up with me after all and I’m sort of a pain in the ass. I have an amazing daughter who is seriously perfect in every which way. I have amazing bonus daughters and parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins…you know those big Italian families that love you and love to fight with you.

And while I love it all it’s not to say that there aren’t struggles along the way. And one of those struggles is making sure I don’t neglect my husband.

It’s not that I don’t enjoy sex or don’t want to have sex it’s that I’m exhausted. All the time. I get plenty of rest, I eat well, I take my Omega 3s, Vitamin B and Probiotics…I’m not exercising as much as I should these days, but I do go for walks and clean up after a husband, a child and two cats.

It never fails that night rolls around and after I’ve completed my daily tasks I fall into bed completely drained. Hubs rolls over and give me the eye. You know the eye…the let’s do it baby eye.

And then I have to look into those big hazel eyes, throw my arms up in the air and say, “We just did it!”

Like a child being told that Santa Claus doesn’t exist I see his hopes and dreams shattered. I’ve destroyed him.

“What do you mean we just did it?” He tugs at the covers hard to show his displeasure. (See husbands are a lot like 2-year-olds. They express their pleasure and displeasure in very similar mannerisms.)

“What do you mean, ‘what do you mean’?” I ask, picking up 50 Shades of Grey.

“Isn’t that book supposed to make you like horny?”

I look at him in disgust. He picks up his video game remote control, and I settle into 50 Shades. He’s mumbling now…something along the lines of “It’s been 2 weeks.”

“Uh-hem,” I clear my throat, exaggerating the hem, “We just did it last week.”

“Uhhhh…no we didn’t.”

“Yes, we did.”

“No, we didn’t.”

Now we’re fighting like children.

The sex calendar

To prove my point I consult the calendar the next day. I say very sweetly, “Honey, I’d like you to know that I’m going to start a sex calendar.”

He laughs because he’s the one who supposedly started a sex calendar years ago. I say supposedly because I’ve never seen said calendar so who knows if it really exists?

I point to the calendar. “We did it on Friday.”

“Friday? What are you talking about? It was more like Monday or Tuesday.”

“Wrong. We did it Friday.”

See, what happened was I made the mistake of promising sex in the afternoon. I was trying to add some spice so-to-speak so when I spoke to him at lunch I mentioned watching the Bears/Packers game, having a couple beers, putting the Chiquita to bed, and so on.

And this is exactly why you don’t make promises to children. Or husbands.

After work I had a meeting for the Alzheimer’s Association. I’m driving home and its dark, cold and rainy. I was trying really hard to wake back up. I walked in the door and shouted, “Hello!” in the Jerry Seinfeld voice that we do with the Chiquita. She runs into the kitchen uber excited yelling, “Mommy!”

This is great!

I open a beer, I put on my new jammies (not lounge pants and a tee BTW), I cut some cheese to snack on, and I sit down next on the couch. Then I proceeded to get up 100 times…to feed the cats, to get the Chiquita a snack, to get the Chiquita more to drink, to put on the Chiquita’s Bears jersey. I haven’t even had 3 sips of beer and it’s now the 2nd quarter!

Me and the Chiquita…Gooo Bears!

“Are you even going to sit down?” Hubs asks me.

“Well, I’d like to but someone has to attend to the child,” I say rather snotty. And it’s not that he didn’t do anything all night, I mean, he came home from work and was on kid duty until I walked in the door at 7:15 pm. It’s just I walked in the door and got plowed over by everyone needing something, which always seems to happen. I can’t even walk in the door and take a pee until everyone is attended to.

Finally it’s the middle of the 2nd quarter, the Bears are turning out a dismal performance, and I just finished my beer. I sit there and think: Holy shit, I’m exhausted. My head sort of hurt, my eyes were closing…I kept thinking I just wanted to lay in bed and get wrapped up in my blankie.

And then I did the worst thing a wife can do.

I FELL ASLEEP.

My husband says, “We’re not doing it tonight, are we?”

“mmejkd;arjea;kar,” I mumbled, which meant, No baby, I’m so sorry, I love you so much, I’m just exhausted.

The story of our life.

But I redeemed myself. The next morning I woke up before my alarm to surprise him with a morning quickee. I felt like the best wife ever because normally I snooze about 3-4 times and never ever ever do I wake up early, not even to go to Dunkin Donuts for an iced coffee. I sleep as late as I can possibly sleep and then run around like a nut in the morning trying to get out the door. This is every single day.

So you can imagine my husband’s surprise when the alarm didn’t go off, yet I was up and at ‘em.

I point hard at the calendar.

“Friday! Remember? Jeez…it obviously wasn’t that memorable for you!”

“Friday. You’re right,” He says with a big grin across his face.

“Now maybe you’ll re-think all those ‘we never do it’ complaints because the proof will be on this calendar. Right here!” I say, again pointing at the calendar.

He walks out of the room yelling “I love you! I do love you” over his shoulder.

And I love him. :)

Tags: , , , , , ,

If I Were a Postal Employee

14 Sep

I don’t think he’d be smiling if he knew what he was picking up!?!

If I were a postal employee I would be outraged by this.

If they only knew.

Or do they know?

Have we really gotten this busy?

As a full-time working mom I for one appreciate the convenience. I doubt that the post office does.

Why, you ask? What are they delivering?

They are delivering my shit.

I’m not even joking.

I recently had a physical. I’ve been having some tummy troubles, and I haven’t quite been able to figure out what to attribute it to.

- I’ve tried eliminating dairy (didn’t work)
- I quit drinking pop three months ago
- My doctor thinks it might be anxiety-related
- My stepmom thinks I eat too many raisins
- My friend thinks I’m allergic to gluten
- I actually think I might drink too much coffee

So what gives? Why do I suddenly have diarrhea on an almost daily basis? My doctor wanted to get to the bottom of it. He asked me to give a poo sample. You can imagine how comfortable I was discussing my diarrhea issues with my 60+ male physician. Well, I guess it wasn’t that bad in all honestly, I mean, I’m telling you all right?

He says that he wants me to submit a poo sample, and that I can even mail it in. (Selling point?)

What the heck?

I nodded my head as he shook my hand and said the nurse would be back with prescriptions, my blood test order and the poo pack.

Sure enough the nurse comes into the office and hands me a small cardboard box.

“You can mail this with five stamps,” She tells me. “Or you can drop it off here.”

Drop it off here? Does she think I have nothing better to do but complete my 8 ½ hour shift at work, pick up my kid, go home and make dinner, do laundry, get us all ready for the next day, i.e., pack bags, lunch, pick out outfits, etc. and that I can just make a leisurely stop at the doctor’s office (completely out of my way) to deliver my sample?

I do appreciate this convenience. I love this convenience. Five stamps, 10 stamps, I don’t care! Whatever it takes to not have to drive back to the doctor’s office.

But then I found myself having all sorts of questions, overanalyzing if you will….do the mail people know that they are picking up people’s poop? Will I tell my mail lady at work – who I talk to everyday – that she is picking up my poop?

“Well, hello there, Cindy….please be sure to be extra careful with that cardboard box. It has my shit in it. And by the way, thank you sooooo much. You’re sure making my life a lot easier by delivering my poop to my doc!”

A. W. K. W. A. R. D.

But, I actually worried that I might say that.

Luckily the day I mailed my poop she had a sub. Phew, I wasn’t going to tell the tatted dude who came in that he was picking up my crap. I simply smiled and said hello. But in my head I was all….omg, omg, that poor man has no idea that he is picking up my poo! And then I giggled.

Soooo immature.

If I don’t worry about the postal employees then am I all good here?

Because I think I actually may have scarred my 2-year-old while taking on this task. On a Saturday afternoon after drinking a large Dunkin Donuts iced coffee I was all – OK time to do this.

Git r done….I’m hearing that hillbilly guy’s voice. I despise this saying btw.

I grabbed the cardboard box and opened it to read the instructions.

Seems easy enough.

It’s not.

My first turd completely rolled off the piece of paper and plopped in the toilet. I started screaming. My husband ran into the bathroom carrying the Chiquita. “What is going on?”

The Chiquita is eyeing the piece of paper like wtf. She’s no dummy. She knows her mom’s a bit of a whack job.

“I can’t go #2 on a piece of paper. This is insane!”

“Well, you have to! Suck it up!”

Then does he leave? No! He stands there. Holding the Chiquita. While I attempt again to go to the bathroom on a piece of paper. This is messed up.

The Chiquita is seriously like wtf. (Poor kid)

OK, deed is done!

Now to “pierce” it. Yes, that’s what you have to do. This is why I’m not in the medical field, because are you serious right now? This is MINE and I’m completely grossed out. I can’t even imagine if it were someone else’s.

I’m standing there (naked) trying to pierce the poop sample, and I start gagging. Like major gagging. Like dry-heaving I’m going to throw up in a second gagging. I’m screaming, “I’m going to throw up!!!!!!!!!! I can’t do this!”

Husband is laughing.

The Chiquita is screaming, “Poop! Poop! Poop, Mommy, poop! Poop! Paper! Mommy, Poop, Paper.”

For two days following this “event” when the Chiquita would walk by the bathroom she would say: “Poop! Mommy Poop, Paper.”

So, I ask you this. Are we really too busy to give poop samples like we used to?

Tags: , , , , , ,

2012 Walk to End Alzheimer’s – Donation Plea

27 Aug

On September 23rd the Chiquita and I will be walking in the 2012 Naperville Walk to End Alzheimer’s at North Central College in Naperville, IL. This will be my fourth year walking for Alzheimer’s research and recognition.

As you may or may not know this is a cause that is very near and dear to my heart since my Grandma Bonnie was diagnosed with AD many years ago.

I have spent 2012 as a member of the Walk to End Alzheimer’s Naperville Committee where I have been working with many other volunteers to gather sponsorships and in-kind donations to make this year a success!

I am proud to report that I was able to secure an in-kind donation from Dunkin Donuts located at 811 E. Ogden Ave. in Naperville. Thanks DD! :D

I have truly enjoyed volunteering for the Naperville Walk Committee and have met many people this year. Some of the volunteers work for housing facilities, such as Naperville’s Sunrise Senior Living at 960 E. Chicago Ave., who has graciously allowed the Committee to hold monthly meetings in their conference room and others, like me, have a family member who suffers from the heartbreaking disease.

With that said, I am seriously lacking in my own personal donation goals because I have devoted my time to the committee versus to simply raising money for the cause. It is very heartbreaking to watch the deterioration of my Grandma Bonnie, someone who has impacted my life in many ways and has taught me many life lessons.

The Chiquita, my mom and Bonnie, of Bonnie’s Braves.

That is why I am reaching out to you, my readers. If each of my readers gave $5, holy moly, I would be so honored and so touched. And so would my entire Italian family.

You can donate right here: http://act.alz.org/site/TR?px=5574735&pg=personal&fr_id=1723&et=ECvRbMcckmnYQbWRXIRcIw&s_tafId=11193

The beautiful ‘Promise Garden’ a mission of the Alzheimer’s Association

If you would like more information on the 2012 Naperville Walk to End Alzheimer’s please visit http://act.alz.org/naperville2012 or contact me.

Here are past pieces I’ve written on the Alzheimer’s Association:

4 Generations!

Read My Guest Blog!

1 Way Everyday…

Thank you for your support! :)

Tags: , , , , ,

Why I [Sometimes] Wish I Was a Lesbian

15 Jul

We’ve all heard of the book by Dr. John Gray, Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus, and while I’ve never actually read the entire book there are times when I look at my husband with such annoyance and aggravation that I think to myself: I wish I was a lesbian!

I’m sure lesbians have problems in their relationships, too, but I imagine that they at least ‘get’ each other, as opposed to men and women - like how my husband does things and I shake my head and think wtf are you doing? I don’t get how his brain works!

For one, why is it impossible for men to watch the children AND keep a clean house? I manage to do it, why can’t he?

I suppose I should explain where this vent is coming from, and thank goodness he doesn’t read my blog anymore because he would be pissed to know I blogged my frustrations about him for all to read, but seriously what else am I to do?

I could bitch and moan about it but it’s never going to change because he’s the way he is, and I’m the way I am. I nag him enough as it is, so some things I just need to let go. I’m not good at letting things go though and if it just eats at me I’ll be ready to seriously consider leaving him for a woman, because, for realz, what’s the point of leaving him for another man?

My husband is a great man. Let me give you the reasons.

- He puts up with me, and if you read Jlee’s Blog you might wonder how any man could put up with me, and I actually had a blog commenter say that once. She said my husband must be a saint to put up with me. LOL

- He puts up with four other women, besides me. That would be my two bonus daughters, our daughter (the Chiquita) and his ex-wife. That’s a lot of females for one poor dude to deal with. There are days he wants to run away from us all.

- He is very helpful with our daughter. He has never once said I can’t go meet a friend; he always encourages me to have time with my girls.

Isn’t this the most beautiful bag you’ve ever seen????

- He has never ever told me not to buy that pair of Jessica Simpson boots or Juicy Couture bag. When I told him last night that I found a Marc Jacobs bag at Nordstrom that I would love love love to buy he didn’t even freak out when I told him the bag costs $1,400! Yeah, I wish, and I’m pretty sure he knows I wouldn’t blow our hard-earned money on that, even if I’d love to. Having a child makes you so darn practical!

But, now on to what drives me to think of lesbianism.

- No sex is enough sex. It’s like they always want more. I can’t keep up. Even if we did it every single day he would then want it twice a day. I’m destined to fail.

- My idea of clean and his idea of clean are wayyyy different.  Like why do men let the dishes pile up in the sink? The dishes are much easier to wash right now than 48 hours later when the food is hard and crusty on the plate. And what’s with shavings on my bathroom sink?

- If he does manage to wash the dishes or clean up toys he needs a cheerleader. He’s so proud of himself. Look what I did! I want to roll my eyes and say I do that every single day! But, instead, like a good doting wife I say, “Oh my gosh, honey, I’m sooo lucky to have you. You are the best husband!”

Good work! Now go clean the house bitch!

This morning he did let me sleep in until 9 am – let me talk him up again – and when I got up a large iced coffee from Dunkin Donuts was waiting for me on the counter (he’s such a saint!), but I still couldn’t help but wonder if I was a lesbian and came home at 3:30 in the morning from a bachelorette party what could I expect of my Sunday morning?

- Would my wife let me sleep until noon?

- Would my wife have washed all the dishes and cleaned up the toys?

- Would my wife have put the Chiquita to sleep in her clothes?

- Would my wife have thrown the Chiquita at me after she woke me at 9 am and allowed me deal with cleaning the house, starting laundry, cleaning a poopy diaper, making all the beds?

- Would my wife have tried to hug me when she sensed my aggravation over the lack thereof work that was done yesterday in my absence?

- Would my wife have asked me how many women hit on me last night and wanted me to consistently replay the tale of the Guida with the cigarette breath hitting on me when I was so obviously not into the conversation?

- Which then brings me to wouldn’t the Guida have picked up on my ‘not interested’ signals and left me alone instead of continuing to try talk to me?

Snooki and JWoww – Secret Lovers?

It’s not that I’m wanting to leave my husband, or wanting become a lesbian, but I just wonder what my life would be like with a wife. I would think that it would be pretty cool to have a wife to handle day-to-day life but maybe I’m not giving men enough credit? Men have a lot of pressure to be the man of the house, the breadwinners,,,and other things I’m not privy to since I have a female brain.

Put the old ball-n-chain to work!

And as I finish writing this post right now Hubs is running upstairs to get the Chiquita up from her nap. Aww I really am one lucky girl to have him for my husband. :)

Now if only I could have a wife, too! ;)

What do you think readers?
Do you ever want a wife?
What do my men readers think, do you ever want a husband?

This post is dedicated with love to my husband and my soulmate, Brett. We really do make a great team, and I love you.

Tags: , , ,

#9: Does It Make Me a Bad Mom If – I Constantly Say I’m a Bad Mom?

10 Jul

My kid’s diaper exploded.
In the middle of the kitchen.
At my friend’s house.
During her daughter’s 1st birthday party.

And my husband is nowhere to be found, off fishing with the guys in the lake behind my friend’s house. I rudely ask him later on if he’s planning to parent today, which in hindsight was wrong of me considering I wanted him to go off with the guys so I could drink my martini in peace.

Not like I get much peace with the Chiquita around, but at least I could chat with the girls and sip the toxic Strawberry Shortcake martini my friend made while the Chiquita plays in the baby pool and without my husband giving me that ‘Are we gonna go soon?’ look.

Hubs isn’t a social butterfly.

But, back to the Chiquita, who decides she’s done in the baby pool. She walks to the patio door. Someone lets her inside.

I jump up thinking what is this kid doing?  I go inside and ask her what’s up.

“Eat!” She responds, like she hasn’t eaten enough all day, but my kid like me is a chip addict. Chip as in potato chip, yes another Bad Mom topic for you how I let my kid eat potato chips and Dunkin Munchkins.

“Eat! Eat!” She says and is walking through my friend’s kitchen.

I look down and omg she is dripping water ALL OVER THE PLACE.

I try to get her to stop moving and stand still as I’m trying to wipe up the floor, remove her bathing suit bottoms and meanwhile she is confused pointing to the food and saying, “Eat!”

She has no idea that she’s dripping water; even though I’m telling her – sort of even yelling at her – “Stop moving! You’re dripping water all over the place!”

Well, I mean, I told her to stop.  What does she do?  She stops.  And she plops down on the floor. BAM! Sure enough her water logged diaper explodes on the floor.

Do yourself a favor and get these!!

O-M-G.

Meanwhile my friend’s family is all sitting around watching this unfold as I’m slowly unraveling.  Really?  Really? I think.

I’m looking outside the patio door praying that my husband has come back, but no, he’s off … somewhere…having fun … and here I am having to attend to this mess of an exploded diaper, a wet child, a hungry child AND having everyone staring at me.  At my bad parenting and the mess I’m making all over my friend’s house in the middle of her daughter’s 1st birthday party. Ohmigosh, we are ruining everything.

Now, this I’m sure isn’t what anyone was thinking…but in the moment this is what I’m thinking they are thinking, and I’m feeling anxiety about the whole thing so my brain is starting to envision the worst.

The situation was quickly rectified – Chiquita changed and fed (again), the mess cleaned up, and we are back outside hanging out with the girls, sipping cocktails, and yes, eating more chips.

The Chiquita…such an angel!

I’m telling a gal how during this whole debacle I’m getting really flustered.  On top of it, friend’s brother is yelling out, “It’s OK, she’s just a spaz,” like yeah I am, but thanks, do you really need to yell that to your entire family while I’m on my hands and knees cleaning up diaper mess off the hardwood floor?  This is embarrassing enough.

I suppose with the anxiety, the embarrassment and the buzz I did look like a basket case and friend’s brother-in-law says in all seriousness, “Wow, you need medication.”

IN FRONT OF THE WHOLE FAMILY!

“I’m ON medication,” I yell back, now losing any shred of dignity I was still holding on to.

So this gal hearing the dramatic tale says, “I don’t understand why you’re getting so flustered, it’s not that big of a deal.”

“I don’t know.” I’m trying to explain it to her.

I mean, how do you explain your craziness to someone? Like have a camera follow me around and then watch it on TV in your pjs and you’ll totes get it while you’re sipping your wine and laughing at me!

This is what I want to tell her, but I know she’s asking out of genuine concern, and not in a judgy sort of way.  She’s honestly confused why I get like this.

Finally after going back and forth we get it out of me.

“I don’t want to be a bad mom!”

I am old school, and I have many complaints about things that parents do, like why do you let your children run around the store? Don’t you tell them “This isn’t a playground, it’s the store! Stop running around!”? That’s what my Italian mom yelled at me.

Along with don’t talk back, respect your elders, do unto others as you want them to do unto you, were you raised in a barn…and a barrage of other things that I don’t always see kids doing nowadays.  And I guess I am being a bit judgmental of parents nowadays which I suppose isn’t really my place. I mean, I’m a mess enough right?

But, because I’m looking at other kids and wondering why in the hell they are behaving this way I’m assuming that all other people are looking at me and thinking the same thing.

I Don’t Want to Be a Bad Mom.

Gal says something so interesting to me that it’s been sitting with me for days now.

“Don’t you think if you keep putting this “Bad Mom” vibe out into the universe you’re somehow willing it to be? Giving other people the chance to think it?”

Wow.

That’s a really interesting perspective.  Maybe only a perspective you get after a couple martinis.  Or maybe she’s just really smart?

She continues, “It’s kind of like with my weight. If I keep saying to people that I’m overweight it’s bringing attention to my weight rather than just me liking me for me and not worrying about it.”

Wow.

This is genius. So very profound.

I started this Bad Mom section on my website to be funny and to poke fun at myself and to give moms something to laugh about. We’re all making mistakes and we’re all doing the best that we can.

But, is this teasing myself hurting my self-esteem a bit? Am I taking it all too serious in thinking that I actually AM a bad mom instead of just laughing at the little things?

Maybe so.  I’m going to work on not calling myself a bad mom anymore. But, I will continue to bring you Bad Mom stories because I think we all need to learn to laugh at ourselves once in a while. How else do we stay sane? I haven’t gotten any bad mom stories lately…what are your bad mom stories? Email me at jlee5879@live.com.

Tags: , , , , , , ,

← Older Entries

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 680 other followers