Tag Archives: Snooki

My Pants Aren’t Traveling; But I’m In The Sisterhood

15 Jan

sisterhood-blogger-award

I’m very honored to announce I’ve won another blogging award – The Sisterhood of The World Bloggers Award. Not only has blogging allowed me the opportunity of my true passion, writing, but it has also introduced me to many women in the world. Some who live close to me. Some who live far. Some my age with young children and others who share their wisdom with me as their kids are older or grown. Blogging is a community of people with one shared interest – an interest that is a true love of mine. Writing. It is such a pleasure to accept this award!

I was presented this award some time ago by Marcia at Menopausal Mother, who has been a true cheerleader of mine. She is one of the seasoned women (can you tell by the name of her blog?) who passes on her knowledge to us younger gals…one thing that struck me recently was how she dislikes Type A people, yet she was one in her youth. It’s had me thinking, as a Type A person, will I someday hate people just like me? Maybe…but check out her post Season of Change because it had me laughing out loud! Read her post here.

Thank you Menopausal Mother ~ for your support, your friendship, your wisdom and your funny stories of what I have to look forward to! ~Muah!

In order to accept my award I have to do 3 things.

1. Include the award logo in your blog post, thank the nominee and link back to their site.
2. Post 7 interesting facts about yourself
3. Pass the award to 7 deserving sisters

I feel with every post I write I give you some interesting fact about myself and start to wonder if it bores you to death to read what I think are interesting facts about myself….it seems silly and overdone, but for the sake of being a good sport I shall oblige.

#1 My middle name is Lee but I’m not southern.

#2 I was born at 9:09 AM and my dad calls me every year on my birthday at exactly 9:09 AM.

#3 You know I’m a leftie, but you wouldn’t know that when I watch a TV show or a movie I can always tell when a star is a leftie. I shout out “So-and-so is a leftie!”

#4 I only drink iced coffee. Even in the winter.

#5 I have no tattoos

#6 I have seen Britney Spears in concert 4 times. I love her.

britney-in-concert

#7 I had producers and crew at my house to film a pilot for a reality show. We didn’t get the show. I was OK with that, but sometimes wonder What if?

jersey-shore-cast1

And now to pass the award on to 7 5 deserving sisters!

Katie at The Intrinsic Writer
Jen at Rumpy Dog
Sandra at She Can’t Be Serious
Josie at Go Momma
Jules at McCrabass

Thank you again to Menopausal Mother and to all of my readers!

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What is the Matter with You?

30 Jul

Is what my mom asked me; more like scolded me. And it was actually more like this:  Jennifer! What. Is. The. Matter. With. You?

Yep, still getting it at 33-years-old.

But, I did deserve it.

It was another one of my “JUST STOP TALKING!!!!” moments, only it was more of a ‘You’re a grown woman why in the hell would you throw chuck a water balloon at your mother during your kid’s 2nd birthday party?’ At your mother’s back, even better.

Yes. Yes, I did this. I’ll explain.

The Sangria made me do it.

I really don’t know what came over me, but I’ve said before that my family is crazy. When I was a kid we would always play the water balloon toss game followed by the classic water balloon fight at family parties. We would laugh and joke and it was the funnest time. Some of my fondest memories of my childhood are playing with my aunts when I was a little kid.

For the Chiquita’s 2nd birthday almost the entire family was together. The family, I feel like, has worked hard to try to come together and overcome our differences. I was excited, and I wanted it to be perfect. This actually is one of my biggest struggles. I’m a perfectionist. I don’t like things done half-assed. If I’m going to do it, I’m going to go all out.

Sometimes this gets me in trouble. I don’t always think things through because I’m too busy seeing the finish line. I’m at ‘start’ and ‘finish’ but never at ‘during’. It’s a bad way to live, and I need to work on that, but we’ll save that for my therapy sessions.

So anyways, my aunt helps me fill the water balloons, and I excitedly gather the troops.

“Water balloon toss! Water balloon toss! Get your partner and meet out front!”

I’ve got kids, I’ve got older aunts/uncles…I’m super pumped. This is awesome! Just like the old days!!

My mom is being all fuddy duddy, “I’m not going to play.”

What?!?

Side note, when did mom’s get to be so lame anyways? I remember my mom never wanting to go water skiing or tubing when we were kids on our boat. We’d be soo excited and be like, “Mom, please!” and she would always say no and just lay in the boat with her sunglasses on. I’d say OK if she at least had a vodka in her hand, but my mom isn’t much of a drinker…which isn’t a bad thing if you read about some of my dalliances.

So my mom says she’s isn’t going to play and for some reason (Sangria?) it really annoys me. Like why not? Are you afraid to get wet? Come on! Don’t be so lame!

These thoughts all run through my head.

We play two games of controlled water balloon toss. By the way, I don’t want to brag, but in the 2nd game I was in the top 3 and did a dive catch to try to save my water balloon. In a dress no less. See, I’m A Cool Mom. ;)

And then the fight breaks out. People are chucking water balloons every which way. It’s chaos. My evil twin inside me thinks: This is it! This is your chance to get Mom.

I seriously don’t know what came over me. I picked up a water balloon, I walked to the back yard were the lame adults were sitting and then I completely chucked it at her. I’m talking I stopped, I wound up like I was pitching a baseball (complete with the leg up), and I threw the water balloon right at her back!

What. The. Fuck.

Even my bonus daughters were like, “Omg Jen! I can’t believe you just nailed your mom in the back!” while they walked away laughing.

I laughed for like a second and then I saw her face. And then I heard her voice. I heard the: “Jennifer! What is the matter with you?!?”

Uh-oh. Crap. It seemed a lot funnier in my head.

After my mom’s: “Jennifer! What is the matter with you?!?” I figured I had had my fair share of Sangria and dubbed the stuff ‘dangerous’.

The ‘dangerous’ Sangria

I was in major damage control – I drank tons of water and when my mom offered to cut the cake for me I was like, “I got it!” even though I totally wanted to hand it over to her.

I did apologize though my first apology was via text in which I said, ‘Sorry, I’m an asshole.’

For some reason I don’t think she appreciated that apology. I decided a more heartfelt apology was in order. When I saw her a couple days later I said to her, “Mom, I’m really sorry for throwing the water balloon at you.” Then after an uncomfortable chuckle, I said, “Seriously, I don’t know what came over me, it was that Sangria. That stuff was dangerous.”

She gave me a face. I nervously laughed some more. I said again that I really was sorry and appreciated all her help with the Chiquita’s party.

She said, “I wasn’t upset that you got me wet, I was actually more upset by the face that you made.”

I’ve been told before that I make some very serious and deadly facial expressions.

I laughed some more. I don’t think she appreciated all the laughing during this apology, but I was seriously very uncomfortable. Gosh, why don’t I just act like a normal person and not throw things at my mom!?!

Ugh!

In response to my face, I said, “Was it really mean or something?”

Now she laughed. Phew! “Evil! Your face looked evil!”

Now we’re both laughing, and I tell her I’m going to write a blog post about it. She rolls her eyes. I said, “We have to let other people get a kick out of this as much as we are, I mean, seriously, who throws a water balloon at their mom?”

Yeah, that would be me.

Don’t I ever learn to just stop? I need like a code word or something. Oh. I have that. Snooki. For realz, when I’m getting out of control I’m told I’m “Snookied” so I better “calm down.”

I guess I needed my bonus daughters behind me yelling “Jen! You’re Snookied! Don’t. Throw. The. Water. Balloon. !!!!!!!”

In slow-mo.

Only now I’m imagining myself as a caged bear breaking free and doing the whole “Arrrggghghhhhgghghg!” thing as I throw chuck the water balloon at my poor defenseless mom and that would have ended even worse. : /

“Hey man! You got a dart in your neck!”

So what did we all learn from this blog post? Don’t ever – ever, ever, ever – chuck a water balloon at your mom’s back while making an evil face during your two-year-olds birthday party.

Thank goodness you have me to tell you these things.

At least I can cross this off the bucket list. :P

Happy 2nd Birthday to the Chiquita!

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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.

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Glow

5 Jul

The word ‘glow’ makes me think of the romantic glow of soft lights, the orange glow of Snooki’s tan or the pregnant glow of the mama-to-be.

On Sunday I watched the glow of the fire that burned my journal away to nothing.  I watched the bad times burn away.  The memories be erased.

At the end it was nothing. All that had plagued my life was now nothing but dust particles flying through the night’s sky.

When I hit rock bottom during my very public battle with Post Partum Depression I wanted to die.  Nothing gave me joy, not even the smile of my baby.  I was drowning in misery, and I couldn’t escape it.

I felt hopeless.

I quit writing because I had nothing to say – well I had everything to say but none of it made any sense. It was a barrage of my internal struggles. I quit my social life because who wanted to be around a Debbie downer? I’m not saying my friends didn’t want me around; it was all me. I lost the ability to socialize. I over drank. I just wanted to escape it all.

If you’ve been reading Jlee’s Blog none of this is new to you.  My time “away” was like a bad dream that occasionally flashes back leaving me with guilt, self-pity and sadness over what I experienced.

There are times that I am simply too much in my own head; analyzing where it all went astray.  Questioning how I could have “fixed” it knowing what a waste of time this is; knowing that I can never go back. Reminding myself that what I went through made me a stronger, more empathetic woman; all good lessons learned.

I made some very big changes in my life following my breakdown in February 2011. The most important change was switching medical providers. “Hiring” a new medical team is what saved my life.

I was now seeing people who actually cared about me and wanted to help me and wanted me to live. They feared that this scared and sad new mother might actually attempt suicide. And I was there. I contemplated it many times.

But I didn’t. For Eva.

I didn’t want her to grow up with the burden of telling people that her mom had killed herself. I wanted her to have a fighting chance at a good life despite her crazy family, her crazy mom and the crazy world we live in.

After months of weekly therapy sessions with my counselor I broke down in her office one evening.

“Why aren’t I getting better?”

I was both exhausted and frustrated. I was sick of going to bed at night begging God to die, knowing that I could never take myself, but maybe, just maybe, He would listen.

One day she asked me to start journaling. It wasn’t like it was a new phenomenon.  I wrote journals and short stories all the time as a kid. I love expressing myself through my writing; it just makes sense to me.

But, I wasn’t too keen on the idea of journaling. “You want me to write about things I’m trying to forget about?”

To me this seemed crazy, and I told her such. I couldn’t live through this the first time, how am I supposed to relive it?

She warned me it would be difficult. There would be tears and heartache. There would be anger and flashbacks. But, she encouraged me to write.

“Don’t write your blog, where people can judge you and bring you down. Write for yourself. And yourself alone.”

Not knowing what else to do, but knowing I was desperate to get better I bought a journal. I wrote every single day. I wrote about the pain, the frustration, the hospital scare, the depression, my feelings of failure, my struggles with friendships and abandonment issues from the loss of my family…I wrote and wrote and wrote.

And then one day I started to feel better.

The more I wrote the better I felt. I can’t really explain why, but it was almost like reliving the experiences allowed my brain to process the drama. Well, that’s what my counselor said anyway, and it made sense to me. I’m a very analytical person so my brain will continue to replay situations over and over questioning what I did, what I said, how I looked. It’s exhausting.

But, it was even more exhausting when I was crumbling to pieces and analyzing the life I used to live with the life I was now living and a sense of failure through it all. Writing allowed me to release it all from my brain and into a world of nothingness.

I never reread what I wrote. Why? Why continue to scrutinize the pain? Plus, the one time I did reread I was editing typos in my writing. Like wtf, weirdo, no one is ever going to read this!

Writing was difficult. I did experience flashbacks that I would work through in counseling, but I still continued to write. I cried when I wrote. But, I still continued to write.

My mood began to improve dramatically. I started to feel a bit like myself again. I still continued to write for fear of falling back into my depression. It couldn’t happen. I couldn’t go back there.

And then the journal was full. Every single page written with my scribbles in red ink, in pencil, in cursive, in print….the journal was full. I closed the book and looked at it. This journal is full of fears and secrets and most of all the struggles of a very sick me.

I knew immediately what I needed to do.

BURN IT.

Burn, baby, burn. That life is over. That woman is gone. I didn’t want to ever look at that journal again. I didn’t want to ever read my thoughts and those words again.

I told my husband of my plans to burn my journal. He didn’t understand it.

“I want to close this chapter of my life and never relive it ever again,” I told him, pleading with him to get it.

I wanted to watch it all burn away. Burn to nothing.

The depression brought me down to nearly nothing, but yet there was still a small fire inside me that wouldn’t let me die. A spark deep inside that forced me to fight for my life.

And now as I live and breathe I wanted to watch all those memories burn away….and that’s exactly what I did.

I didn’t cry. I didn’t smile. I simply sat there and watched a year’s worth of pain become nothing.

And now a new chapter begins.

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#3: Deep Thoughts by Jlee

6 Jun

I have lots and lots to blog about, but I’m procrastinating.  I’m not sure why I’m procrastinating because I’m super excited to tell you about NYC.  Maybe it’s because I’ve built it up now?  So anyways…since I’m procrastinating why not share some deep thoughts with you courtesy of Tatted Mom at The Inklings of Life.

I’m always honored when blog friends think of me and Jlee’s Blog.  Tatted Mom has been awake each night with anxiety wondering what my answers will be to the questions below (haha, seriously, she says that on her blog, check it out!), and far be it from me to keep her up another night.  :)

Enjoy her brilliant questions and my (hopefully) witty answers!

1. What motivates you to write?
I have always loved writing since I was a little girl.  I’m not sure what motivates me to write, I just have this profound need to get my thoughts and feelings out, on paper, on the computer, wherever it may be.

2. Dark chocolate, milk chocolate or white chocolate?
I am a dark chocolate girl!

3. What’s one thing, when you were growing up, you swore you’d never do, but now that you are older, you find yourself doing all the time?
Ohmigosh, there are so many things!  I used to hate when we (my mom, my stepdad, my brother and me) would rent movies and my mom would fall asleep five minutes into the movie.  I remember we’d make a big night of it – we were allowed to eat popcorn in the living room! And then my mom would pass out. We’d be like “Mom, wake up!” and she’d mumble something incoherent and then start snoring.  And now that’s me.

4. Uniforms: Hot or not?
OMG I love firemen! HOT!!!! And I love it even better that I get to wave at them now when I’m with the Chiquita!

5. What’s one thing you would do if you were President?
I would stop all this political correctness!  Just say it, folks. Quit dancing around the obvious!

6. Sushi: Yes or no?
I’m more of a meat and potatoes kind of girl.

7. What celebrity do you have a major crush on (keep in mind, Ryan Gosling is taken)?
My new crush is Chris Hemsworth.  I was in love with him while watching Snow White and the Huntsmen.  My husband was super jealous.

OOOO-MMMMM-GGGGGG! Where’s my vibrator? Haha J/K

8. Which current fashion trend do you wish would die?
High-wasted pants.  They only look good on stick-thin girls.  On me – and most moms with the “pouch” that is impossible to lose – you just look fat.  Remember Jessica Simpson?

Sorry Jess…not your best look

9. What’s a nickname you’ve been given?
Snooki. Haha…or really haha? Does that make me a short fat Italian?

10. If you crash landed on an island, which items in your purse would help you survive?
My nail clippers. I don’t go anywhere without them. I even use them as scissors sometimes.

11. Would you ride a broomstick to get around instead of drive a car, if the option were made possible by modern technology?
Um…no. I don’t need more of a reason for people to think I’m a witch driver.  That pretty much happens on its own….haha.

Now to get to the rules… nobody likes rules but you gotta have them!  Rule #1 is to give you 11 facts about myself, Rule #2 is to answer Tatted Mom’s 11 questions (yes, I’m a little out of order here), and Rule #3 is to come up with 11 questions of my own and to tag 11 other bloggers. How lucky for them! :D

11 Facts About Jlee (you know, to help you sleep at night)

  1. I am terrified of fish, all fish, dead or alive. I can’t even watch fish on TV. I have to close my eyes or change the channel.
  2. I’m left handed. I’ve told you this before, but I love telling people I’m a lefty.
  3. I’m obsessed with Marilyn Monroe, and I have several collector’s items, movies, t-shirts, etc. Someday I plan to have a Marilyn room…in my mansion after I sell Concrete Boots.
  4. I haven’t ridden a bike since I was 15-years-old and sometimes I wonder if I still know how to ride one?
  5. At 33-years-old I’m still terrified of my Papa.
  6. I love animals, and my friend K and I have an agreement that if one of us wins the lottery we will open a no-kill shelter.
  7. Despite drinking wayyy over twenty Bloody Mary’s in an attempt to get myself to like them I still really don’t like them. :( I promise to keep trying!
  8. I am dying to go to Napa Valley, and I incessantly try to talk all my friends into planning a trip.
  9. My first car was a maroon Chevy Celebrity, oh yeah.
  10. Once in college I played Mario Kart for 8 hours straight only taking bathroom breaks, no joke. We skipped classes and everything.
  11. Since becoming a mom I have a newfound respect and love for my own mom.

11 Questions that Keep Jlee Up At Night

  1. Batman or Robin?
  2. If you had to give up alcohol or coffee which would you choose?
  3. What is your favorite book and why?
  4. Which Kardashian do you most resemble?
  5. If Doc Brown wanted to take you back in time which year would you choose to go to?  Or forward in time, in that case.
  6. Name one of your bad habits.
  7. Do you have any tattoos?
  8. What is your favorite fruit?
  9. What is your porn star name? (First pets name/First street you lived on)
  10. Animal print: Yes or No?
  11. How would you feel if you were told you couldn’t write your blog anymore?

And now for my amazing blog friends…I hope you will participate! But, if not, feel free to share an answer or two in the comments section below. And another shout out to Tatted Mom at The Inklings of Life…check her out, she’ll have you laughing to death with her great stories!

SzaboInSlowMo at She Can’t Be Serious

KatMDonavon at Almost 30…

Menopausal Mother

Saesult at Girly Stuff

Blackfrangipani

Brittany Belle

I know that’s only 6, but that’s all I got right now…I obviously need to work on discovering some new blogs! And know that I always love to hear from readers, so feel free to answer any question that strikes your fancy in the comments section!

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Fear

26 Apr

I am afraid.  I am always afraid.  I often pray that the Chiquita does not experience the same fear and anxiety that have plagued my life.  I don’t know why I’m so afraid.

I used to sing songs in line at Burger King at five years old.  The whole store would stop and listen.  And then they would clap for me.  I would beam with excitement.  What happened to that little girl?  That brave girl who loved to sing for an audience, who loved talking to people, who loved to experience life.  What happened to her?

Me at 3-years-old. What happened to this brave little girl?

Here I sit.  What I am afraid of?

I’m afraid of trying and failing.
I’m afraid of being a bad mother.
I’m afraid of being a bad person.
I’m afraid everyone will hate my book.
I’m afraid of confrontational situations.
I’m afraid of running the ½ marathon I desired to run 3 years ago.
I’m afraid of people leaving me – family, friends, my daughter

This list is crazy.  Everyone has fears, but my fears just seem so … irrational?

So today I’m full of fear.

I was invited to NYC to the U.S. launch party of petiteBox –> see my review here.  Of course I was honored and thrilled to be invited to the exclusive mommy blogger event.  But then the fear set in.

I’m not a super religious person but I did pray about it, asking God what I should do.  I just feel deep inside me that this will be a life-changing opportunity.  I’m not saying I’m going to go to New York and be discovered and be the next Snooki, but I do feel like this will in some way help secure or at least shape my future.  Whether it’s me personally or my writing career or whatever it may be I feel something.

The original launch party was scheduled for tomorrow.  I had merely found out about it weeks ago, and I didn’t think I would be able to swing it even though I so badly wanted to attend.  As I said, I prayed to God for guidance.

Ironically, I found out the very next day that the launch party had been pushed back to May or June.  I was like, Omg, it’s like God answered my prayers.

I kept looking for a way to bail.  The money, the childcare…but all the signs kept pointing to GO JEN GO!  Everything was falling exactly into place.

So this morning I did it.  I booked my ticket to New York!  O-M-G!  I’m going to New York!

And then reality set in.  O-M-G.  I’m going to go to New York.  Alone.

Ohhhhmmmmmiiiiggggosh.  I can’t do this.  I can’t go to New York – ALONE!  What the hell was I thinking?

And then fear set in.

With my flight booked I now had to book my hotel.  And now I’m panicking.  With every step being completed it’s becoming more and more real. More and more official.

I’ve flown alone before, but I’ve always been picked up at the arriving airport.  I have never in my 32 (almost 33) years flown before and arrived at a new city by myself with no one there.  I have to take a cab from LaGuardia Airport to the Chelsea Inn at 11 pm at night. I have to figure it out…by myself.

I don’t have normal fears, like I’m going to die or someone is going to mug me.  My fear is…what if I get lost?  What if no one likes me?  What if I get a crazy bout of diarrhea? What if I just can’t do it alone?  I picture myself standing in the middle of 5th Ave. crying. Resigned to my fears.

This is not the kind of person I started out to be.  This is not the kind of person I want to be.  This is not the person I want my daughter to become.

I remind myself to stay strong. I CAN do this! My mind spins with what-if this and what-if that.

I figure my co-worker is ready to kill me when I ask her: “What if the hotel is like nasty and I have to sleep on top of the covers for fear of getting Herpes?”

I decided to take a break.  To go to my sanctuary (Dunkin Donuts) and to write in my journal while sipping an iced coffee.  I write:  New day; new hopes, new dreams and new fears.

I remind myself of BGP.  I remind myself that this is one more step towards my goal of selling my book and continuing to blog which is something that makes me happy and something that makes me feel complete.  I remind myself of how far I’ve come, and how I don’t want to stop here.  I want to continue to grow and improve my life.  I do have a spirit inside me.  My spirit may be plagued by fear and anxiety, but I can’t let it be a crutch. I have to challenge myself.

I returned to my office from my sanctuary still feeling like my head was going to explode despite the iced coffee and the anxiety pill. And I returned to this email from my co-worker:

“For God did not give me a spirit of fear, but a spirit of power, of love, and of self-discipline.” 2 Timothy 1:7

Don’t be brought down by your anxiety or fear, but embrace the spirit that God has naturally given you. Step out in faith. He’s given you this opportunity to go to New York and He will take care of you. :) I’m praying for you!

So here’s to letting go of fears and my trip to New York!  I can’t wait to share this experience with you … so check back next month. :D

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#5: Does It Make Me a Bad Mom If – You’re Snooki

1 Mar

Snooki preggers???

My boss comes into the office [yesterday] and asks: “Is Davy Jones dead?”

I stare at him blankly.  “WHO?”

I’m mixing up Davy Jones, Davy Crockett and Leif Garrett.

“I guess you don’t know then,” he responds, which is true, I don’t know.

“Well, the news of the moment that I am concerned about – [I clear my throat for this rather large announcement] – Word on the street [I start again, do they even know how BIG this is?] – is that SNOOKI IS PREGNANT!”

My office explodes in laughter.  I’m not sure if they are laughing about the possibility of Snooki being preggers or if they are laughing that I even care.

Here’s the thing.  I pretend to dislike Snooki, and maybe I sort of do seeing as though she pretends to be Italian, but really isn’t, all the while giving Italian women a questionable reputation, but I think I really do sort of like her given the fact that I actually dressed up as Snooki for Halloween.

And, truthfully, I guess I shouldn’t even go there considering what the Mob Wives do for Italians.  I watch that show and thank my lucky stars my family isn’t “that kind” of Italian.  We’re the Bill Cosby of Italians.

Honestly though, if they had cast me on Jersey Shore say five years ago I’m sure I would maybe be a disgrace to my family – and all Italians for that matter – because let’s face it, alcohol and video cameras don’t always display people at their best of bests.  You know what I’m sayin?  Remember JUST STOP TALKING, thank the lord there were no cameras to film that train wreck!

So, sorry I’m not sorry that maybe I sort of actually like Snooki.  Not those fugly shoes she was wearing though.  Yuck!

Don't you dare go to http://www.SnookiSlippers.com

But what are your thoughts on her being a mother????

I have to admit, my first thought is:  Omg, that poor kid has a short degenerate alcoholic for a mother that humps her friend in a rabbit suit.  I mean, right?  Pretty sure I saw that on a preview during Teen Mom 2.  I watch Mob Wives and Teen Mom 2, but I don’t stumble so low as to watch Jersey Shore. ;)

But, then I think of Kendra, Hugh Hefner’s former girlfriend, and another of my fave celebs (besides Giuliana Rancic, of course) who famously told her mom she was pregnant at her wedding shower on an episode of Kendra and the world (well, maybe not the world, but definitely E! and her fans) were SHOCKED.

I’m sure there was speculation of what kind of a mother can that big boobed, blonde haired former Playmate actually be????  And if you watch her current reality show and have read any of her books (I plan to post on that later) you will know that she is actually a good wife and mother.

No nanny for this mama

And then I think of me.  I was raised in the good ‘ole Midwest, sure my parents divorced before my 1st birthday, but they both remarried and had children by the time I was 4 thus making this lifestyle very normal and giving me a great big family with two different viewpoints and opinions on raising children and on life.

I like to credit my two families for giving me a more balanced outlook on life because of these varying viewpoints and opinions.  It made me see what different families can be like on the inside.  My dad and stepmom were pretty laid back parents who never grounded or spanked their children, while my brother and I were often getting grounded, spanked, soap in the mouth, whatever it may have been to encourage straight As and good behavior.

I once jokingly said “You’re such a Focker!” to my brother (after the movie Meet the Parents came out in 2000).  I was saying it referring to my brother as a dork, and my mom nearly had a heart attack trying to tell me that Focker was a swear word.

“Nu-uh!  It’s a dude’s last name!”

Needless to say I never said that again.

I went off on a tangent though.  My point is such that I was raised a very well-balanced, respectable, nice young woman and look at me now, the crazy still managed to get me.

Back when I got pregnant I thought I was going to be this fan-frickin-tastic mother who was dressing her kid in designer kid clothes and sipping cappuccinos at the local Starbuck’s while my baby sat in herSilver Cross Balmoral Pram baby carriage, which according to The Most Expensive Journal, is likely the most expensive stroller in the world, priced at $2,900.00.   And how hilarious (or depressing) that Snooki can actually afford one!

It's not even cute!!

I never thought I would be the one struggling, or the one suffering from Post Partum Depression, or the one writing “Bad Mom” blog posts….

This is not to say I think I’m a bad mom, but more to say everyone is a mom in their own way, to the best of their abilities, and influenced (whether positively or negatively) by their own lifestyle and upbringing.

Who is anyone to judge?

The “Bad Mom” stories are silly and funny and are meant to remind us that no one is perfect.  We all have meltdown moments.  And what’s a “Bad Mom” to me may not be a “Bad Mom” to you.  I mean, we can all agree I’m not talking about crazy people who lock their kids in attics that you see on the news.  Those people weirdos need to die.  I’m talking about those of us just living life day by day, trying to be good people and trying to make it in this big crazy world.

As for whether or not Snooki will make a bad mom; I guess it depends on time and your bad mom criteria.  According to The New York Post, despite Snooki’s denials according to sources she IS in fact preggers.  Read Snooki Lied – She’s Preggers  and MSN’s Wonderwall for the info.

And remember that many people might think that Madge is one of the best mom’s out there, but I would BEG to ask Lourdes that question.  For one, Madonna doesn’t even let her kids watch TV!  Wonder if Snooki will let her bambino watch Jersey Shore?

If Snooki is in fact preggers I have my Halloween costume for 2012 – Pregnant Snooki! :D

Don’t be shy…please share your “Bad Mom” stories?  Or if you’re the perfect mother afraid to share what sticks out in your mind as something your parents did to you???  Email me at jlee5879@live.com.

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The Mothership Called Me To… Juicy Couture?

25 Nov

There are many things in life that I love.

-My family

-My friends

-Animals

Generic, right?

-Wine and iced coffee

Better…

But, if you’ve been reading my blog you know my one true love is my Juicy Couture bag.

I’m embarrassed to say how I even stumbled upon Juicy Couture, back in my early 20s, when I was very poor and uncool.  (Not a good combo, but thank goodness I grew out of BOTH of those phases…)

Anyways, so back in the day when Mancow was on Q101 I used to listen to him in the a.m. as I got ready to go to my real estate job in Hinsdale.  Working in Hinsdale made me so desperate to be rich it actually turned me into a huge b*tch and I detail about that time in my book, Concrete Boots.  I promise my book will be coming out…and SOON!

So anyways, while I was listening to Mancow one morning he talked about how his girlfriend at the time (who is now his wife) was obsessed with Juicy Couture.  He would get so mad that she would go spend his precious earned dollars on Juicy Couture tracksuits with the word “Juicy” written on the rear.

He said, “Sorry people.  Sorry I don’t want my woman walking around with Juicy on her @ss! That’s not appropriate…”  He would go on and on.  I was in a trance…what is this Juicy Couture??  Then when my US Magazine starting showing a lot of celebs wearing Juicy I was sold.

I don’t think celebs wear a ton of Juicy anymore…too many common folk wear it now.  But, I don’t care.  I’m obsessed.  For me Juicy Couture is expensive enough that not everyone is wearing it, but affordable enough that I have to work hard for it so therefore I really appreciate it.  When I get a new Juicy Couture bag I’m like, omg, this is heaven.  I’ll never forget the day I bought my 1st Juicy Couture bag for myself for my 30th birthday.  Hellzz yeah, I’ve made it now, I thought. 

Now, not to brag, but I’ve graduated to Pjs, panties, perfumes, shirts, purses, a diaper bag, and finally…and I mean FINALLY … my 1st Juicy Couture tracksuit.

Let me tell you this story.

Last month I was in Phoenix visiting family.  One night my hubby and I went to meet some friends in Scottsdale for happy hour.  Super fun night and I had the best coconut martini ever at the Tommy Bahama restaurant plus, you know, a glass of wine or two.

I had a little buzz on and as we were leaving to walk back to our car we were walking through Kierland Commons, an upscale outdoor shopping area in Scottsdale, and my friend, Liz, who obvs knows I’m obsessed with Juicy says, “Jen, look, there’s the Juicy Couture store.”

Me standing outside Juicy Couture!

O-M-G.

What?!?

See, all my Juicy Couture purchases have been made at Von Maur (a Nordstom-type department store we have in Chicago which is the greatest store ever because they have an interest-free credit card!) or the Juicy Couture Outlet at Chicago Premium Outlets.

I know it’s probably totes uncool (by the way, totes is my new word) to shop at the outlet mall, but what can I say?  A deal is a deal, and I always say that when my book makes me famous like JK Rowling I will still shop at Target!

So, anyways, I just went off on a tangent.  Vacation.  A couple drinks.  A beautiful night.  The aura of Juicy Couture.  It’s like the makings of a rom-com.  I said, “I have to go in there.”

My friends laughed and carried on, and my husband, knowing I would rather die than go home without going in Juicy Couture said made the big mistake of saying, “OK, let’s go in.”

It was like heaven on Earth.

I walked in and my head started playing its own little theme song like Ally McBeal.  There were clothes and shoes and jewelry and purses and tracksuits and pink…there was pink everywhere.  And beautiful displays.  And beautiful people.

The beautiful Juicy Couture store at Kierland Commons

This is amazing.  I have to buy something.  I must.  I mean, this is the official Juicy Couture store, not the stupid outlet mall or Von Maur.  I mean, this is the real deal. 

What kind of an example would I be setting for my daughter if I chose to simply walk by?  That’s not following your dreams.  That’s not being true to yourself!  I work hard, damn it, and I want Juicy Couture!

Uh-oh.  My husband should have known better, he really should have.  I don’t blame him, I’m just saying.  Sometimes dealing with me can be tough, you know, so he picks his battles.  He did remind me of bills we had to pay when we got home, and how overpriced Juicy Couture is, and you know, do I really need this, like really really need this?

The answers of course were: I’ll worry about it later, I don’t care and YES, for the love of God, YES I need this.  And let me turn to the Lord on this one.  Would God have put Juicy Couture right here if he didn’t want me to stumble upon it?  Of course not!

I finally settle on the tracksuit of my dreams.  This is a must-buy.  I am dying to give my credit card for this beautiful piece of clothing.

Knowing Juicy Couture runs small I grab a medium top and a medium bottom.  The sales gal says, “Oh no, honey, you’re not a medium.”  Ooh, I like her already.

Sales Gal was getting a kick out me, thank goodness, and loved that I was having so much fun in the Juicy Couture store or maybe was just making fun of me – LOL?  I’m sure I was a bit of an amusement as I stumbled around looking at every single item and running my fingers across all the fabrics with wide eyes.

She let me in the dressing room, which, too, was amazzze.  As I tried on the tracksuit I discovered she was right.  It was too big.  Now there’s a problem to have, right?!?

As Sales Gal went to grab me alternate sizes I look down at my skinny belly.  Wow, I have gotten really skinny since I lost all the baby weight.  I could still tone up a bit, my tummy is a little flabby, but still I feel a sense of pride, because it wasn’t without hard work – both working out and dieting – to lose the 33 pounds I gained.  Then I look down at my panties.  O-M-G.  I completely forgot I am wearing my Juicy Couture THONG!  It is pink and blinged out and says “Juicy” on it.  Ohmigosh, dying!

Since I’ve lost my boundaries at this point, not that I have a lot of boundaries anyways since I’m slightly inappropriate at times, I’m like dying to tell Sales Gal.  In fact, I, like, have to show her my thong.  She will DIE.  Maybe she will call Corporate Juicy and they will hire me for their next ad campaign because obvs I’m a diehard fan.  Then maybe I’ll get to meet Giuliana Rancic, my future or in another lifetime BFF, as I walk the red carpet at the next awards show because I’m totally the next big thing!

Knock-knock.

OK, wow, back to reality Jen.  You’re a 32-year-old suburban mom living in a Juicy dream (pun intended).  I can just see the hate mail coming in now.  Get my priorities straight, blah blah blah.  You know what I say to that?  Lighten up, Francis!  I’m not going to die without:

1.) Occasionally eating a Big Mac (I last ate one as Snooki on Halloween)

and

2.) Owning a Juicy Couture tracksuit.

“Come in,” I say to Sales Gal who comes in with different sizes and colors of tracksuits as I stand there in my knickers.

My eyes widen as I remember I have to show Sales Gal my thong.

I point at my pink Juicy Couture thong and say, “Look, I told you I was the ultimate Juicy fan.”

She starts laughing, as she hands me a pair of pants to try on.  “Oh my gosh, I love this!  You are so sweet.  You have to get a tracksuit now!”

Me with Sales Gal as I pay for my purchase! Yayy

And yes, I did buy my Juicy Couture tracksuit at the official Juicy Couture store.

So, today, on this day of thanks, I am grateful for my family and friends.  And obvs for Juicy Couture! :)

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Happy Halloween!

31 Oct

Halloween is one of my favorite days of the year!

Anddd Christmas….andddd my birthday.

But for now…

Enjoy some pics…. :)

Me as Snooki

Snooki got caught by the Po-Po!

My little bunny...and more trick-or-treating tonight.

Trick-or-treating at the DG Merchants on Oct. 23rd

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Little Miss Fickle

4 Oct

Little Miss Fickle by Roger Hargreaves http://www.openlibrary.org

So this is the 3rd time I’ve changed my blog?  Or the 4th?  I can’t seem to even remember anymore.  I’m a little fickle.  I mean, I’m strong minded, and I know what I want, but I also occasionally change my mind.  I think it’s my perfectionist and analytical nature that leads me over think anything and everything.

If you’ve read since the beginning (thank you!) my blog started as Jlee’s Blog; If You Think I’m A B*tch So Be It.  It remained that way for some time….my humble beginnings as a blogger through my crabby pregnancy days and finally through my post partum depression era which seriously almost killed me.

I took time away from blogging – and really life - to get well…to go to counseling and to try to find happiness again. For information on that time see my story Mother is God.

When I found myself well on the way to recovery I decided it was time to start writing again.  Writing is my passion.  I couldn’t imagine my life without writing.  If no one read my words I’d still write for me.  I decided that the old Jlee didn’t fit anymore.  I’m still me, but a little softer…a little more humble and mature.

So I revamped my blog!  I went to Jlee’s Blog; I’ve Gone BaNaNaS but Managed to Survive with the subtext “the working mom’s challenges and rewards.”  I liked it.  It felt more real.  More me. 

But as I’ve grown as a blogger (and have now won an award!!!) I started to look at my blog with complete distaste.  Let me not put this delicately.  This is fugly!  Seriously – FUGLY!  And what is up with the bananas?  Who am I trying to prove myself to?  I was trying to appeal to all audiences…I want my mommy friends to read and like me.  I want my single friends to read and like me.  I want people who don’t even know me to read and like me.  I was torn.  What is this new blog about?  What do I want to say?  What’s my message?

OMG.  My brain hurts.  HELP!  What is my message?  The answer is I don’t know.  I don’t know what this blog is about.  I don’t know who my core audience is.  I do know I need to go back to basics.  I need to remember to write for me, and I need my blog to represent me.

So, good-bye “if you think I’m a bitch” and later crazy BaNaNaS – I haven’t survived.  I’m currently surviving.  I’m evolving.  My life is changing.  Everyday.  I may still go crazy again.  I’m a lovable, neurotic, anxiety-ridden working mom.  I like to drink wine (a little too much), I’m very sensitive – but loyal, and I simply want to write my thoughts about my life!  Why am I trying to prove I’m “something” to everyone?  I don’t even know what or who that “something” is.  Why am I trying so hard?

Yep.  Clearly I need help.  Stay tuned.

So…here it is.  Ta-Da!  My new blog….Jlee’s Blog.  Let’s keep it simple.  That’s it.  It’s Jlee’s blog.  I’m Jlee and it’s my blog.  Just Jlee.  Oh…maybe I should change it to that????

Do I love Snooki? No. But am I being Snooki for Halloween? Yes.

And the leopard, OMG, is that totally a crazy Italian girl or what?  Love the leopard…sorry if it’s a little Soprano’s or – the horror – Jersey Shore.

Tell me: Do you like my new blog?  I guarantee I won’t be changing it from this.  I don’t think.  But, ask me tomorrow.

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