Kicking it Old School

It's been about six months since I started this blog, and in honour of my mini milestone I have decided to totally cop out and re-post my first real blog entry. Since the early beginnings I have managed to find a few other kindred souls in the Blogosphere with some older kids, but for the most part it's still pretty much mommies and their ankle bitters. Oohhhhh, are YOU guys in for a treat!

Don't Say I Never Warned You

I know I am new to the whole mommy blogger phenomenon, but as far as I can tell I am the only one on here who has older children. All the rest of you are up to your eyeballs in dirty diapers, suffering sleep deprivation, running after toddlers just learning to walk and trying to teach your kids that shoving tic-tac's up their nose doesn’t end well. I speak from experience – I once raced frantically to an emergency room with my toddler who had managed to shove at least one and possibly more tic-tac's up his nose. He shoved one so far up there, in fact, that you could actually see the visible lump in perfect tic-tac formation poking out just slightly below the bridge of his nose and just over from his left eye. Yeah, I don’t know how he managed that either.

After waiting in the emergency room for decades to see whatever twelve year-old and/or foreign exchange student intern they had working at the time the tic-tac had melted sufficiently and they sent me home with a stern warning to not let my two-year old have tic-tac’s anymore. Nothing like not only feeling like a horrible parent for not appropriately supervising the toddler/breath mint combo, but I also had the privilege of spending FOUR HOURS in a hospital with a crying/tired/minty-fresh toddler and was then subsequently judged by a doctor who was probably in charge of organizing the pub crawl for later that weekend.

I do remember the stress of being a first time parent and the parent of young children. They’re messy, demanding, totally clingy and do not respond whatsoever to compromise or logic. When it comes right down to it, toddlers are pretty much like the worst boyfriend you ever had. Except for the fact that you inexplicably love them more than anything on earth (even though a large percentage of the time they make you want to grab the nearest sharp and pointy object and jab it as hard as possible into your ear just to get some relief).

I remember all of this, and to a certain degree I’m still right in there with you. However, in addition to my darling almost three-year old Lena and hysterically odd seven-year old Jake (tic-tac incident) I have another one, and that one is FIFTEEN YEARS OLD. Oh yes, the stories I could tell about this fascinating daughter of mine does indeed warrant the use of the dreaded ‘ALL CAPS’.

So, this presents an interesting factor that none of the rest of you need to deal with. My oldest spawn can actually read this, right NOW whenever she wants. I know, most of you have little ‘dear So and So’ pages you will faithfully update with the intent of having So and So read all about their first years, gain some insight as to who their mother really is, etc., etc. Yeah, that’s all fine and good when they’re TWO. In fact, this will not be any real concern of yours for a good decade or so. That gives you a whole lot of time to reconsider if posting the picture of your cute little man wearing his sister’s dress while shoving his nose in the dog's ass is really something that will ultimately advance your goal of forging an unbreakable bond between mother and child.

See, here’s the thing - you poor souls have no idea what you’re in for. You are all typing away imagining little So and So all growed up and having a good chuckle at mom’s wit all while feeling so very loved because you went through the trouble documenting their every fart. You’re thinking So and So will be all “I used to poop in the bathtub??! Awwww, Mom that’s funny, and by the way, thanks so much for cleaning it up all those times. Do you want to go for a walk and hold hands?” Well folks, I hate to burst your blogger bubble, but in reality, it will likely go down a little more like this -

(boy version) – “MOM! Get that shit off the internet right NOW. Take down your stupid website, you’re so GAY. And MOVE ‘cause I want to play World of Warcraft with Blaze (it will be around 2018 by this point so your kids will likely have friends named Blaze or Titan since we have had a rash of very unfortunate baby names of late. For some reason there is a growing group of parents who, in an effort to prove their own uniqueness, name their kids something completely ridiculous. Really, this trend needs to stop now or we’re going to end up with a Prime Minister named Spirtall. Yes, believe it or not I actually know a kid with that name).

or

(girl version) – “OH!! MY!! GOD!! I can’t believe you would tell the WHOLE WORLD about me and say such totally embarrassing things. Take it off right now or no one will ever talk to me again and you totally SUCK!!” (stomp–stomp–stomp–stomp–stomp-stomp- SLAM).

No, my little blogging friends, what you are writing right now will not please your little ones at ALL. You know when they will like it? When they are in their thirties and have started their own blogs staring YOU. Who’s going to have the last laugh then?

Fat Chick vs. Food - Week Eleven

This week rocked everybody! I have hit my stride, I have seen the light, I am in total control of my little universe and I am super awesome.

I ate very well and managed to haul my fat ass off the couch to get exercising a few times this week. I had a little diversion while in Saskatoon for a meeting on Friday that came with quite a bit of rich food and wine, but I managed not to indulge as much as I would have a few months ago.

To make my fabulousness complete, I have accepted a fantastic new job! I start in the next couple of weeks, and I couldn’t be more thrilled. It’s a great opportunity for me, and it will give me a chance to actually work during the day. Trust me, that fact alone is enough for me to turn into the ‘good morning!’ guy from the Viagra commercials.

My new job will have me out and about a lot more than I ever have been at my last job, and therefore I am going to need some new clothes. I have a lot of ‘work’ clothes now, but I am happy to report that most of them don’t really fit me anymore. I have found myself having to actually roll down the waistband to keep my pants up so they don’t end up around my ankles when I walk. I’m pretty sure the people walking behind me in the hallway can do without the FoN full moon.

So….operation new clothes! In the next few weeks I am going to go buy myself some new ‘yay, you lost weight!’ and ‘yay, you got a new job!’ clothes. And I’m NOT going to the fat girl stores. I might do a little nah-nah-nah-nah-naaahhhhh dance as I walk past them in the mall though.

I lost three more pounds this week! That brings the total poundage lost to 18. I have 42 lbs to go.

Random Tuesday Thoughts

Good day everyone! It's Random Tuesday again, the day Keely at the un-mom gives us permission to totally phone it in. Thanks Keely! Here is my half-assed effort for the week -

The kiss of death when you go to the doctor or the dentist? When they say the word ‘pressure’. As in, “You may feel some pressure." That is doctor code for SEVERE FUCKING PAIN. The next time a doctor says that to you, pray you have a leather strap handy to bite on because it’s not going to be pretty.

It’s almost the middle of March and its forty below. The people from CNN who called us the ‘hot spot’ of North America clearly have never actually been here. Sure, we all have jobs, but if it doesn’t warm up right fucking now we’re all moving to Mexico to work in sweat shops.

I don’t feel like going to the gym. It’s cool damn cold. I want to go for a bike ride or a walk or something. All of you who have the ability of being able to just walk out your front door whenever you want to have no idea how much of a luxury that is. I would kill to be able to see something, anything that’s green right now.

Shannon Doherty seems like someone who is just a gigantic bitch. She was awesome in that Heathers movie though. That show still totally stands up. That movie made me want to eat pate. Fuck me gently with a chainsaw.

Speaking of movies, the Watchmen was the worst super hero movie I've ever seen. It was excruciatingly dull and horribly depressing. It's very pleased with itself and has absolutely no reason to be. Seriously, save your ten bucks.

For more randomness, go check out the rest of the clan at the un-mom. Git Git!

Fat Chick vs. Food - Week 10

Nothing comes between me and my Calvins……except possibly my huge ass.

I have brought out the jeans. You know which ones I’m talking about. THE jeans. The skinny jeans. The jeans that you keep in vain hope of one day being able to suck it in, grab the nearest coat hanger, lie flat on your back and wriggle on until you almost pass out. The jeans you keep in the ‘I have a dream’ section of your closet.

My skinny jeans actually are Calvins and I love them. I love them and I haven’t been able to squeeze my fat ass into them in more than three years. I didn’t retrieve them to torture myself; I actually want to look at them. I can’t get them on yet, but I’m close enough that looking at the Calvins gives me hope instead of making me want to give it up already and just start rocking the moo-moos.

As for the plan I’m working on to get back into those Calvins, on Tuesday I spent an hour and a half with Trainer Lady. I wish I could win the lottery and afford to see her a few times a week because the shit she dreams up for me to do is ingenious. She has the unique ability to keep pushing me really hard without making me want to bash her over the head with a hand weight. I think Trainer Lady should start a cult because if she can make me work that hard and (almost) enjoy it, she’s the fucking pied-piper.

I was pretty good with the food this week, but I fell victim to the siren song of popcorn twice this weekend. I have a MAJOR popcorn addiction. Let me put it this way - if I had to choose between never eating popcorn again and having to give up one of my children, I would finally be getting that guest room I have always wanted. That shit is GOOD. Aside from those two minor indiscretions, I ate pretty well this week.

You know what is cool though? All of my work pants are falling off. I no longer have to actually undo them to get them on and off. While this is pretty cool from a weight loss perspective, walking around with the poopy-drawers is not a great look. In about five more pounds I’m going shopping!

I’m beginning my tenth week, and by this point I was really hoping to have lost twenty pounds. I didn’t make that goal, but I did lose another 2.5 pounds this week and 15 pounds total. I have 45 to go.

Fat Chick vs. Food - Week 9

I cheated. I’m a big fat cheating cheater who cheats.

Okay, so……this week sucked. I suck. I suck huge donkey balls. I let life derail me. I was all, “Life dealt me a shitty hand and therefore I get to eat crap.” I ate shitty food, I didn’t exercise really at all, and I drank too much. More than once.

A few days I was okay with the food. Actually, I was feeling so shitty I didn’t eat much of anything. One day the only thing I ingested the entire day was a cheeseburger and vodka. I’m pretty sure that’s not really very healthy. That might be standard operating procedure if I was some tweaked out little skank getting ready to shoot a music video, but alas, I'm not. I know better.

My career is going to shit and I have let that sad fact get in the way of the weight-loss mission. How stupid is that?? In this current employment climate, I really could have it a lot worse. I’m a government employee who still has a job, good wage, great benefits, a pension, etc. Mine is definitely a first-world problem. It’s not like I need to carry a bucket on my head for five miles three times a day to provide my family with water or anything. I spent yesterday evening bemoaning my problems over a steak dinner and a glass of shiraz for crying out loud. I’m pretty sure people have bigger problems than me.

Yet, I let my life circumstance derail my progress. I have been at this eight weeks now – shouldn’t I have found a rhythm? Why can’t I get this food and exercise thing under control? How do I let myself cave in so often?

I would never, ever, EVER cheat on my husband. Ever. Even when I really want to, I would never actually do it. I know this young guy who is somewhere in his twenties and is so dreamy every time I look at him the song ‘Mrs. Robinson’ starts playing in my head. While he may not be into a chubby thirty-something at first glance, let’s be honest - he’s a guy. If I was so inclined, I could have my way with him. But, I won’t. I took a vow, and that is just not an option anymore. Sometimes I wish I could venture away from the familiar man (that I love), but I know it would do nothing but ruin my life so I won’t.

Why doesn’t the same resolve apply to food? Why is it just not as simple as – ‘I just can’t eat that because it will ruin me.’? Why can I be so faithful in all areas but one? I am not a weak person. Why is this so hard? I’m only screwing myself. This post is depressing.

I just weighed in and somehow still managed to drop two pounds this week. Stress must burn a lot of calories.

I have 47.5 pounds to go.

An open letter to Rush Limbaugh

Hi everyone – I have been a little out of touch this week. I have issues. Yeah, I know...who doesn’t.

There have been a few things bugging me this week, but the main thing would be that it appears god hates me. I’m not exactly sure why – I love Jesus. However, lately it has come to my attention that I don’t love Jesus the correct way. I think Gandhi said it best –

“I like your Christ, but I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ.”

My experiences of late certainly reaffirm that message. For the last little while I have noticed a growing movement among many Christians, both public figures and regular joes, that is hard right leaning, conservative, judgemental, unforgiving, disrespectful and cruel.

I consider myself a Christian because it gives me comfort to believe something, and Jesus seems like as good a dude as any to buy stock in. He was the first social activist that got enough attention he was actually written about. He was all about helping the poor, comforting the suffering, and equal treatment for all. He loved women and the disabled and the sick. He thought everyone was a child of god and deserving of respect and kindness regardless of their race, creed, gender, orientation or health. He brought us the first pair of open-toed strappy sandals. JC rocked out with his cock out and I can’t for the life of me figure out when all these far right leaning conservative assholes decided Jesus was going to be THEIR leader.

They have somehow managed to take the history of this man whose entire mission was to bring peace to the world and distort it to such a place that its now actually a REASON to be an asshole. I know people who get up each day and spend their time trampling over everyone in their path and then head right over to church and thank Jesus for the strength in which to do it. They cite Jesus when they decide that only certain people are good enough to marry others, or when they send our teenagers over to fight a war for money and oil and get their legs blown off.

Well, I’m here to tell you that Jesus is pissed. He is not down with their stupid shit AT ALL. We are all here to work together to have happy lives and take care of our friends and neighbours, not to destroy each other and then name Jesus as the reason. All the conservatives who are using Jesus as the reason to be complete fucktards are going to end up in the big time-out chair in the sky when they kick it. You know the saying ‘Karma is a bitch?’ Well, Karma IS a bitch and she and Jesus are totally doing it.

Sorry for that little rant. I feel better.

On the lighter side, earlier this week I posted this picture –



A few of you were brave enough to tackle the weirdest, most unexplainable picture of all time. Go check ‘em out!

Keely at the unmom – story here
Ginny Marie at Lemon Drop Pie - story here
Church-punk mom at Embellished Truth and Polite Fiction - story here (who hopefully still loves me after today's post)

Random Tuesday - Beware, I'm dull as....can't even think of a good analogy for dull

Its Tuesday again and that’s a good thing because I’m becoming a little unglued. I don’t really have anything to do, so I’m extremely random. Thanks for providing me an outlet, Keely.

It appears that I’m losing followers on this blog. What’s up with that? Yesterday I had two people jump ship on me. I hope it’s because I’m offending people. I definitely prefer that over boring the living shit out of them. Uh...for all of you considering leaving me because I'm boring the living shit out of you - you should probably stop reading now.

You know what’s a great game if you’re a government worker? Sit at your desk and pick a random number (say, 31) and stare out the window and count all the cars that drive by, and the 31st one you win! I know you think I’m making this up but sadly, I’m not. I’m paid a lot of money, too. No, it's actually not a great way to spend your time.

White is the worst colour of all time. Bad starchy foods, cocaine, snow, old people’s hair and blank monitor screens that I can’t think of anything to write on are all white. White sucks.

Why does Beyoncé always dress like an asshole? She has one of the greatest bodies of all time and regularly shows up to public events looking like this –

You know, Beyoncé, gold leaf glued on a black dress does not a ball gown make. You have a bazillion dollars – hire a stylist.

Okay, I’m going to stop now before anymore of you decide I’m not worthy. Cyberland is a tough room lately.