Alrighty then.....

 

The weekend started out with me intending to cook something simple and just stay in. I get a call on the way to pick up the kids that hubby wants to meet one of our couple friends and their two daughters at a nearby Mexican food restuarant.

 

I was dreading it. I had put the youngest in daycare that day because her babysitter was sick, and her kids were sick. Not wanting to expose her to who knows what, I asked if they had space, and they did. Plus, I wanted to try it out anyway. Turns out she didn't nap all day.

 

CRANKY. I figured it probably wasn't the best idea in the world to eat out, but it beats cooking. So we did. It really wasn't that bad. Thank goodness the place was loud and would drown out her fusses when necessary. I did try a new beer and it was muy bueno -- Nego Especiale .... or something like that. Anyway, I took the baby home and put her to bed. Hubby and my oldest went and had ice cream with the rest of the crew. Just think, my crazy baby saved me thousands of calories. Good girl!

 

We were so wiped out from such a crazy week that we all went to bed early. Got up on Saturday and took the oldest to her Karate belt test. I was amazed at how much she had learned and was very proud of her, but let's call a duck a duck..... I don't know if this is "her thing." She doesn't have an aggressive bone in her body, and I don't know if I have ever seen a more pathetic push up in my life. She had to fight her best friend, and her mom and I were laughing to hard we were crying. They were politely kicking each other and hitting each other, saying "Sorry!" Too funny.

 

Afterward we went with Alleycat and her crew to Dim Sum, which was really nice. Then we had a blank slate before us. My car was in the shop so we came back and we all just chilled. The baby took a nice long nap and I caught up on my Tivo'd Cheerleader Nation. Go Dunbar! Woo hoo.... LOL. I'm such a dork.

 

We decided to eat out at our favorite Italian restaurant just down the street. We love this place. It's BYOB and has a "piano lady" that my oldest loves b/c she gives her a dollar and she plays every Disney Princess song in the book. The food is just fabulous too. It's run by the sweetest Italian family. I hope they never go out of business. We came back home and got in a huge fight b/c my ungrateful brother and his wild crew, we think, wanted another free place to stay while they were in town. I was fine with it -- it's the right thing to do -- but hubby wasn't. Turns out, they didn't show up.

 

But, like most fights, we got over it. Today we had planned on going out for breakfast -- just for something different -- but we didn't. I woke up and decided that I needed to spend some alone time with Kate. The baby takes up so much of my attention. So I looked up movies and we saw a dollar showing of Aquamarine at noon.

 

Hmmmm.

 

I don't know how she really understood a lot of it, as it was very pre-teen driven. But she loved the Mermaid concept. She has begged me for months to see it. We had a great time, and she really loved the movie. It wasn't too bad, if you're into drippy, sappy pre-teen angst, drama, and overall silliness. We ran to Target for groceries and then to the mall so I could re-buy my favorite pants.

 

I have contemplated this for weeks. Every week, I miss those pants. They were so cute and went with everything. So I bit the bullet and just went for it. Man, am I a spending machine or what this month -- with the swim suits, the girls' summer clothes, and the pants (OK, plus shorts and a shirt on sale) I am just one spending mama these days. I think I need to put a self-inflicted cut off on myself. No mas.... no mas....

I guess it's spring fever and just not liking what's in my closet.

 

All in all, I had a great day with my oldest daughter. We had such a good time together. I saw a gaggle of pre-teen girls walking the mall--no mom in sight of course--and I squeezed my little one's hand a little tighter, enjoying the moment while I could. I know one day she'd rather die that be seen with me at the mall....unless I'm buying....and that for the most part, she'll only want to go to check out boys. Sometimes I wish there was some kind of pill I could give my girls to keep them sweet and innocent like this....where Disney Princesses, Elmo, and the like are heros....and nothing is better than a day with mom and dad. Everyone says it but it's so true.... it goes by too fast. I mean, I just ordered my child's school supplies for crying out loud. I distinctly remember, like it was yesterday, choosing her first daycare in tears.... and now I'm sending her off to public school!

 

I am looking at several more good hours of the weekend left. We have already been outside to play today. We'll probably go back out when we grill hamburgers tonight.... this time with a glass of vino in hand. Hubby went to hit golfballs and run an errand for me. I think I'll get some laundry going. I cleaned this girls rooms this morning -- which was no small feat -- so that's done. I guess I should do the same to mine. This is housekeeping week so I'm not going to stress about it too much. I have some work to do in preparation for another big week -- the last two days of shipping the June issue. Super stressful. Wednesday will be a good day, but my July issue is so big that I won't have much breathing room this month.

 

Sea World is just around the corner, which will be fun b/c we're going with Alleycat and her gang.... and Cabo is getting closer every day. I know there is an umbrella drink with my name on it.... just waiting for me......

 

So, off I go to enjoy the rest of my freedom before the shackles of Monday lock me down again. SIGH. Oh well..... the weather is great, which won't last long around here..... so that's enough right there to make a Texas gal smile....

 

Maybe I'll have something more interesting to post this week.... 'til then.....

 

Breaking News:  This Just In

 

1. Go out and buy a box of Hershey's Kissables cookies. You will not be disappointed, but you might get fat because you can eat 10 or more before you even realize it. So...fair warning. (smalls, your sweet tooth will cherish these.....)

 

2.  My daughter, the Queen of No Thank You I Don't Like That land just ate almost an entire hamburger. Turns out, if you make a smiley face with ketchup on the meat, press the bun to it so it's a double smiley face, it tastes good. My kid ate a hamburger.... Trust me, you have no idea what an accomplishment this is. This kid could eat 3 goldfish crackers a day and be fine. I'm still in a state of shock as it was something close to a spiritual experience in this household. So, um, Amen.....

 

 I feel old today, and it’s my mirror’s fault. Really, it is. I mean, I haven’t changed much since I was 18. I still have a lot of the same characteristics, thoughts, mannerisms, and beliefs. I still think the same things are funny. And likewise, what made me sad back then still makes me sad today. I’m still short and blonde. I still laugh a lot and have most of the same friends. Sometimes, 18 seems like it was just a few years ago. In reality, it was about 15 years ago. Ouch.

 

I want to look 18---not actually be 18 again. And I would change very little about how I got here, to  age 33 ¾. Ok, well there was that bad marriage. Oh yeah, and the time my sister and I got in a fist-fight over using the phone. Oh double yeah--the MIP in high school. OK, so maybe I’d change a few things.

 

I think what I remember most about 18 is feeling cute—almost every day. Clothing sizes weren’t an issue. Strappy shirts, short skirts, slim-fitting pants, shorts…. bikinis. If I liked it, I could most likely wear it. I remember liking my hair. My skin was flawless—not a wrinkle or a crease. And let’s just be honest, my boobs were where they were supposed to be, and there wasn’t a stretch mark or a sag of skin in sight. I was tan. I had confidence.

 

I left work around lunch today for a few work appointments that were closer to my house than to my office. Knowing it would be foolish to drive all the way back downtown, I got a few errands out of the way before coming back home to work and make calls. First, I met a good friend for lunch. We had pizza. It was divine. As most conversations between girlfriends go, weight was discussed. I mentioned how I dread having to find a bathing suit for my upcoming vacations and pool gatherings. I told her how I cried in the Target dressing room. She gave me some damn good advice. She told me to go to one of the nicer swimsuit stores. You know, the ones where you are going to pay minimum $100 for a suit. First of all, they’re made better and will give better support. And second, you are working with a fitting pro who understands what you need and don’t need—OK, what your rear end needs and doesn’t need.

 

What my rear end didn’t need today is pizza—an interesting choice of food just before trying on bikinis, I might add. It has always seemed ridiculous to me that a tiny scrap of material can cost more than $100, but that seems to be the going rate. I had some spare time on my hands and was in the area so I swung by “just to look.” Just as my friend said, the sales girl knew her stuff and bonus, she wasn’t a stick figure either! She understood my dilemma. I told her about my problem areas, and she promptly pulled about 10 suits. I was there for over an hour. Some suits were ghastly; some were just OK; and two were bingo. The best part of a swim suit, in my opinion, is the cover up. This place had cover ups so cute I’d wear them out to dinner – little dresses and skirts. I bought two of those as well. Oh yeah, and a beach bag to match both suits. I can greet the kiddie pool at Sea World, the beach at Cabo, swim class with my kids, and my own back yard with confidence this summer. My bank account was greeted with a $200-plus charge. Oh, the price we pay for confidence.

 

But back to feeling old. While standing in the box of shame, otherwise known as a dressing room where all flaws are magnified, I took a good, hard look at myself. I try to avoid checking myself too often in the mirror at home. After having two kids, it’s something that can just ruin your whole day if you let it. But there I was. Face to face with the enemy—the mirror. Somehow, the lines on my face seemed deeper. The roots that need highlights in my hair have grown at least an inch in a week. I have more freckles—sun damage—on my face and chest. My eyes look tired…my arms a little flabbier than I remember them to be. I cant even talk about my thighs, courtesy of take-out tacos and too much pizza. Are those…. could it be? Yep, stretch marks. Just a few, but the tell-tale signs of pregnancy are there. Wider hips, looser skin, the pre-requisite little bump on the belly where the babies once were. Damn those Hollywood movie star moms and their trainers and nannies, making us real-world moms feel so inadequate. And Angelina Jolie and her barely there bump. What is she giving birth to? A pear? That can’t be a baby in there.

 

And of course, a teeny bikini brings out all of these, ahem, attributes even more. The tankini cracked me up. You’d think it would hide a less than rock-hard stomach. Not so much. It actually accentuates just the part you don’t want to show off. The bottoms with a wide band at the top—those are a lifesaver. And just so you know, all bikinis with built-in skirts are not created equal. The tiny ones make your bum look the size of the Chrysler Building. But the straighter, longer ones are quite slimming. A skirt, my friends, is not a skirt….they’re all quite different and have price tags to match. Also, thank goodness for mix and match sizes. My top and my bottom might have been created equal, but they didn’t end up equal.

 

Oh yes….the age-old question…. Does size matter? In a swimwear shop, no it doesn’t. Don’t think about the sizes. Don’t even look at them if possible. Your pant size is not your swim suit size unless you’re Heidi Klum. If the first one doesn’t fit, just flip it over the door and ask for the “next size up” please until she brings one that camouflages your bum. True, the last one she brings might be a tent, but at least it’s a slimming tent.

 

One last bit of advice, much like avoiding looking at the sun or an eclipse, avoid looking at the skinny girl trying on string bikinis to your right. You know the one—the 21-year-old getting married in June who is shopping with her revved-up fiancé for a few suits for the cruise. Yeah, yeah…that one. Tan, stick-thin, and uses the word ‘like’ every few seconds while parading through the store with the merchandise on and letting her guy decide which bikini is best for each day’s activity on the ship. Don’t look at her. It will burn your eyes and cause a stab of pain and a massive longing for 18. If you happen to catch a glimpse of her, promptly turn the other way and buy an extra cover-up on the way out.

 

So now if you’ll excuse me, I am going to rummage through my miracle anti-aging creams, maybe hop on the elliptical trainer, and swear off Mexcian food yet once again. I am also going to keep in mind that hubby loves me just the way I am and that the reason for most of these not-so-flattering lumps and bumps is two beautiful girls that I wouldn’t trade for anything….not even 18.

I've written before about how the magazine and professional writing lifestyle isn't nearly as glamorous as it it portrayed on movies and in television. In fact, it's not even close. Well, at least where I work. I can't speak for the likes of Vogue, Cosmo, etc. Not only have I not written for these fine pubs, I'd be lucky to even be invited to do so.

 

Today was a perfect example of just how crazy my job can get. I don't get to "write whatever I want to." Much of what I do is very promotional and client-based. I arrive at work at 8:30 a.m., and by 5:30 p.m.,  my writing has been overly praised by a client who insists upon taking me to lunch at the city's latest hot spot where getting a table is next to impossible unless you're Somebody--he 's a Somebody-- and praised by another client who thanks for me for always "making him look good." And, finally, by another client I was told "you're writing sucks."

 

So, who do I believe? Two against one? Actually, it's two against two because his partner essentially thinks the same thing. I have worked with this guy for years. He is in marketing. He has always loved what I have done and actually told me this time last year, when working on the same project, that quote, "Jennifer, you are one of the best copywriters in the city." I took it as a compliment from him because he knows his stuff.

 

That's why this dig particularly hurts.

 

I know he is nervous because he is spending a lot of money on behalf of his clients for this project. I realize that if one thing goes wrong, it's his hind-end. He's wound up like a top with frazzled nerves, making sure everything is just so. I work in a marketing department and spend most of my work days with marketing people. I know how territorial they can be when it comes to their clients, and I dont blame them.

 

But suck? SUCK?! That's a hot sports opinion, if I've ever heard one.

 

After we spoke for a bit, I could feel my eyes getting a little teary. It almost felt like my Dad coming down on me or something, because I respect this man's opinions a lot and what he thinks about me really matters. This is the kind of guy you want in your back pocket in case you ever get fired--a great connection. He told me he was disappointed in my effort. Granted, his contract came in past deadline and I did have to hustle to get copy in. And, he was too busy to give me copy points, so he directed me to web sites for copy. Therefore, all of the content I gave him was essentially re-packaged from his own stuff. It was so tempting to throw this back at him, but I remained calm and kept it to myself. There was no sense in upsetting him any more than I already had.

 

So I apologized and told him I would work on it to his satisfaction. Then the ultimate blow. He basically told me not to bother because he already "spent most of his day re-writing it." Ouch. That's harsh. I at least wanted the chance to make it better--to prove to him that indeed, my writing doesn't "suck."

 

Minutes later, the "new and improved copy" arrives in my in box. I compare mine to his. I compare again. I see a few changes and re-arrangements of paragraphs, but all in all, it's essentially the same. Just some tweaking and a lead change ...and sentence deletions here and there. I didn't really see what all of the uproar was about. Maybe the guy was just having a bad day and I was an easy target.

 

Or, maybe he's right and my writing does in fact, SUCK.

 

What a roller coaster of feedback in a day--a lunch offer from a a mover a shaker, thankfulness from a new client, and overall disgust from another.

 

Yep, sounds like an average day at a magazine to me.

 

'Til next time...

 

 

 

Driving home this afternoon, I heard the familiar guitar rifts of my favorite hard rock band. Lucky me, it was a two-fer…. Sweet Child ‘O Mine and Welcome to the Jungle. If you don’t know which band I’m talking about by now, then you are probably way too young to be reading this blog, anyway.

 

I rarely crank of my car stereo for anything, but I did today. It was a beautiful day. And, man, those songs take me back to literally, the good ‘ol days. Fun times. The one and only time I got to see GNR was actually in Dallas at Texas Stadium when I was a junior in college. They were on tour with Metallica, another favorite band of mine. We made the road trip to Dallas and piled at least 15 people in a Motel 6 hotel room. It was as up close and personal to Axl as I was ever going to get, and I loved every second of it. I was with my bff Sherry tossing back MGDs, and life was good.

 

Speaking of flashbacks, on Sunday I actually sat down and watched some of the dreaded Game Show Network with hubby. He is addicted to this channel. I could go my whole life without it and never think twice about it. Anyway, one of the game shows was clearly filmed in the 80s. I think it was Family Feud. He was concentrating on the game, and I couldn’t stop staring at the hair and the clothes. What in the hell were we thinking? I know fashion is cyclical in nature, but please…. please…. don’t bring back the 80s. The thought of heavy earrings, shoulder pads, tapered pants—I don’t know if I could go there again. Plus, I’d have to budget in hair spray each month. Stiff Stuff, I believe it was. Scrunching permed hair—what a horrible idea. At least some of the music rocked.

 

I finally got both of my articles for the June issue in. It’s such a good feeling to get those words out of my head into the computer. However, now we have to build the magazine. That’s stressful as well, but it’s a team stress more so than individual pressure.

 

We had a great weekend. Hubby and our oldest went on a group campout. She loved it, but still keeps complaining about the smell. She keeps saying, “Mommy, that camp stinked!” I think it went well and that they will continue to make the trips as scheduled. I just took it easy at home. It’s amazing how going down to just one kid and no husband can almost seem like a mini-vacation. When she napped, I napped. When she went to bed at 7, I dove into two pay per views. I watched movies hubby would never see with me—Pride and Prejudice and Elizabethtown. I enjoyed both—especially Pride and Prejudice. I can see how Keira Knightley was nominated for an Oscar.

 

Sunday was also rather low-key. I ran a few errands and got the girls set up, pretty much, with summer clothes. Girl clothes are so darn cute. It’s just too much. They seem so inexpensive at first but once you pile everything together, it’s an easy $200-$300. That’s part of the fun of having girls though—dressing them up.

 

On Sunday, my oldest was wiped out from her camping trip and the baby was ready for her afternoon nap. I put them both to bed and realized that we could also take a nap—so we did. We all had a 2.5 hour nap and it was sheer bliss. We woke up and got the kids ready and headed for the park. I couldn’t believe that my 15 month old could actually climb up the slide backwards. I was in shock. But she did it – about five times. She was beaming with pride. Hubby decided grilling out would be nice, so he stopped by the store and got some steaks and veggies and threw them on the grill. He cooked AND cleaned. He also put the pool fence up. I have been asking him to do that for more than a month. I was just getting too nervous with a curious toddler around. It took him more than an hour, but it’s at least up. Those things are anything but attractive, but I feel much better knowing it’s there. The kids have a fort in the back and they love to play on it. But every time they do, I am right under them because of the pool. Now I can sit back a little and enjoy the back yard while they play.

 

As usual, my list of things to do goes on and on. It’s never really complete. I am thinking of taking 3 or 4 days off in June just to play catch up and get some stuff done around the house as well as spend time with my oldest daughter. I am filling out all sorts of order forms this week for school uniforms, school supplies, etc. as Kindergarten is quickly approaching.

 

Oh, I did get some cool news today. I found out our company had some tickets as a sponsor to an upcoming fundraising dinner with Lisa Loeb as the featured performer. I happen to heart Lisa Loeb is a huge way and love, love, love her new show, No. 1 Single. Anyway, we got two tickets for an up close and personal concert and nice dinner a week from now, so I’m super-psyched about that. Her father is a doctor here, and of course, she is from here, so she plays in this area a lot. I’ve just never caught her. And I have just the outfit! Can’t wait. Note: Get sitter.

 

Speaking of sitter, my mother in law actually sent a thank you letter to us for the birthday dinner last week. She never sends thank you notes and in fact, says she has a thing against them. I am a huge fan of thank you notes, and I think they are one of the last “classy” and proper things left on this planet as far as etiquette and manners go. Anyway, she was very complimentary of the day and thanked me for “making her family whole again.” That was sort of weird. I know what she means, but it made me feel strange.

 

So my singing sister and her hubby are taking their act, The Joni Nichols Band, to Nashville. They signed with a manager, and things look more hopeful there than LA. I think they are experiencing some moderate success, so I hope it will continue to go well. I hear they are swinging through Texas in May, so maybe we’ll get to see them.

 

My dad's 60th birthday was yesterday, so I made my annual call. We're not exactly close. I see maybe once or twice a year and speak to him on the phone about as much. He is retiring in May, and apparently he plans to come for a big visit. He's never stayed with me...ever. It's totally cool, but in a way, strange. It's even stranger that it's strange that my dad is visiting me. Make sense? Probably not.

 

Sea World: 2 1/2 weeks. Cabo: 2 1/2 months. Ahhhhh.........

 

Wow…this blog is a total random stream of consciousness about nothing special. I am tempted to delete everything and include something more meaningful, but I’ve gotten this far so I’ll keep it. Plus, my eyes are getting tired. That’s a good sign…. A very good sign…

 

(Oh, try the new whole grain/multi-grain tortilla chips from Tostitos… mighty tasty.)

 

‘Til next time….

Several nights ago, when my oldest daughter was sick with a cold, she woke up in the middle of the night, calling for me. I rushed upstairs and discovered that she was shocked that she couldn’t speak well and that her throat seemed “locked,” as she put it.

 

Of course, I knew it was a sore throat and part of her cold but I imagined what it must be like to be 5 and not really know what it’s like to have a severe , swollen sore throat/laryingitis. It’s probably frightening. So I went through the routine of getting her Tylenol, spraying her throat with sore throat spray (Mommy, that’s stings!), and putting a cold rag on her head (she believes in those…to her, they could solve world hunger…), and singing “our song.” She asked if I could crawl in bed with her until her “eyes got sleepy again.”

 

I have made a rule since bringing my babies home that they don’t sleep in our bed, and I don’t sleep in theirs. I have heard horror stories about how that can go on past Kindergarten because they are so afraid to sleep alone. However, I always make the exception when they are sick. As I was laying there, waiting for her to fall asleep, she reached over and wrapped her sweet little hand around my arm and snuggled up next to me. Just before she drifted off she said, “I really love this, Mommy. I feel better because you’re here.” I could tell she was trying to hold on to me so that if and when I made my move to leave for my own room, she might feel it wake up again. I know her all too well.

 

However, I thought it was all rather sweet and I savored the moment of being a mom and how at times, it seems like I am the only person in the world who can make my daughters feel better. When they cry, their arms open straight to me. When they get hurt, they crawl in my lap until they are off again and on their way. There’s truly no other feeling like it in the world, and something that is impossible to relate to until you have a child of your own. Another example is how your children feel when they are in your arms. It’s like they’re made for you; they fit just right…like a puzzle piece. And when you hold someone else’s child—as sweet as they are—it just doesn’t feel the same or have the perfect fit. It’s almost impossible to explain until you experience it.

 

My mind drifted to the girls and what it will be like when they get older. When they’re teen-agers, I’m sure I’ll only be needed like that in the case of an extreme emergency or a severe heartbreak. They’ll seek the affection of best friends and (gasp) boyfriends before they’ll come to me. I know that’s how it will be; I was once a teen-age girl myself. They’ll hash their problems out on the phone until the wee hours of the night with their girlfriends. I’ll be lucky to know what they had for lunch at school. There will be a time when they are not only too big to sit in my lap, but would die of embarrassment if they even tried. And I imagine there will be a time or two when I catch them sitting on their boyfriend's lap. Let's hope their dad doesn't see that, though.

 

Despite knowing this, I believe that I will still… and always… have the fierce desire to protect them and for them to need me. I also know that I will one day be replaced in that department, to a certain extent, when they get married. My heart sank a bit when I thought about my mistakes in marriage. I was married at age 22 to my high school sweetheart. I waited until I graduated college to marry him, but just about the time the president of Texas Tech University handed me my diploma, I was walking down the aisle… and not necessarily with a smile on my face or love in my heart. But I had a lot of hope.

 

I knew that I would take care of him. After all, that’s what a wife is supposed to do, right? I just hoped that he’d take care of me. Based on my past with him, I knew that he’d do so on his own terms but that it wouldn’t scratch the surface of being nearly enough. I think that was the loneliest time of my life. Here I was married and living day and night with someone, but I was never so alone. I remember one time I desperately needed gum surgery. Insurance covered most of it, but it didn’t cover the cost of anesthesia. The oral surgeon said that the area could be greatly numbed but that I would still be awake and aware that he was actually slicing part of the tissue in my mouth off to cover receding gums (a hereditary problem). The mere thought of it sent me in a panic. Anesthesia was $200. We were certainly poor…. So poor that I remember scraping together change out of my car for a half-gallon of milk one time. We normally had $75 left over after paying bills to get us through the month. Back then $200 was $1000, if not more.

 

He refused to let me have the anesthesia. I didn’t tell anyone in my family about it. I was too embarrassed, even though I knew my mom would pay for it. But I also knew that if she did, he would be furious because he would be embarrassed for saying ‘no’ and when he was furious with me, well….. that’s a blog for another day. So I went through the surgery without the anesthesia. I could tell the surgeon didn’t approve of my decision, and he was worried about me. I just kept my eyes closed the whole time and tried not to listen to the sounds around me. I survived it.

 

This is just one of hundreds of examples of how I wasn’t really cared for. My husband and I have many talks about caring and nurturing. I tell him how it’s obvious he does the things he has to do in a marriage, but that most often, my soul is lacking care and attention. He had no idea what I’m talking about. I realized that throughout my life, I have chosen men who were “needy” in some way. Someone I could “fix” or “save.” When we dated, they seemed so appreciative of me and all that I could offer. It felt wonderful to be so needed and to make such a difference in their lives. What I was missing is finding someone who remembered all of this and reminded me often just how much I meant to them and how special I was AFTER we were out of the dating stage. Special. I think that’s the perfect word…. I have never felt particularly special to anyone. I have felt loved and needed off and on….but never really adored…treasured…irreplaceable.

 

As I rested by my daughter that night, I imagined her with her husband. I wished with all of my heart that she would choose someone who takes care of her physically and emotionally and someone who nurtures her heart and soul on a daily basis. Someone who puts her on a pedestal and recognizes just how lucky he is to have found her and that she said ‘yes’ to him. I wished that he would be someone who reached over to her in the night to put his arm around her, just to let her know he “was there.” Someone who just absolutely loves and treasures her and never lets her forget how much she means to him. Then I thought back to my parents and how they have never particularly liked any of the men in my life. They probably saw what I now see….someone who is getting the very best of me when I don’t get the same in return. They probably wanted to see me treasured the way they treasured me. Now I get it. I hope that in some way, I can—through the years—get this message across to my daughters. To never settle for anything less that what they know in their heart they truly deserve. To never think “he’ll change” or “it will be better once we’re married.”

 

I have a really great marriage today. I am happy. We love each other very much. However, I have to say that on some days I really do notice the elements of love and appreciation that are missing from my life. The “little things” that make me feel like he believes he’s the luckiest man on the planet. But that’s OK. I realize that when I left my first marriage, the bar was set very low. I sort of drifted into the second marriage, relieved that it would be so much better than the first. I don’t regret a thing. I truly don’t. I love my life, my husband, and my daughters. But I guess like every mom, I still hope for even more for my own children. I guess I want them to have Cinderella’s happily ever after.

 

I suppose that until the time for this stage of our life arrives, I’ll just sit back and enjoy the ride. Savor the hugs, the kisses, the “Mommy I need you’s.” I’ll hug them a little longer, hold their tiny hands a little tighter, and go ahead and read that extra story at night now and then. Most of all, I’ll remember how wonderful it is to be needed and wanted by them and make a vow to help guide them in the right direction so that one day they’ll make the right choice and never look back.

Just When I Think I Have A Plan….

 

.......Is when everything goes berserk. It’s actually kind of funny sometimes. I am on a serious deadline at work. I am working on three articles. Now mind you, they are articles that I like to write every year, especially the one on summer beauty (I am scoring some cool freebies this time), but there are so many that it’s hard to get them done by Friday. The stress is definitely on.

Just about the time I had a plan and schedule going, I get a call from my oldest daughter’s school. Rarely is it a good thing when you see that number pop up on caller ID. Sure enough, they ask for me to come get her because she is complaining of a sore throat and has a low-grade fever. I pick her up and she seems fine. I get her home and take her temperature. It’s over 100. That settles the plans for the next day.

Earlier in the day I got a call from my dentist to let me know my aligners are ready. I made a lunchtime appointment. He goes through the drill about how to take them on and off and what to do and not to do. I’m thinking, please, I wore braces and retainers, I think I can handle it. He says I might need an Advil the first day.

He pops the aligners on my teeth. I actually screamed. These suckers are tight. Surely there is some mistake, I think. Nope. The more they hurt, the better, he says. That means they are doing their job. He says they will relax as time goes on until it’s time for the next set. Then my teeth will hurt again. I am popping Motrin faster than Tom Cruise can promise the world an alien is living in his butt. These things hurt! I feel like I handed over two grand for pain. Sure, beauty is pain I guess, but I’m not sure I would have done this if I knew that it would shoot me straight back to being a brace-faced pre-teen.

So the deal is, I have to wear these at least 22 hours a day. I can only remove them for meals. Although it’s quite tempting to take them out now and then for a bit of relief, it’s not as easy as you’d think. These are not like the retainers you wore to bed before kissing your Prince poster goodnight in the late 80s. You have to PRY these suckers out. I actually knicked the top of finger doing so. But I will say this….. Weight Watchers, Jenny Craig, TrimSpa, and Atkins are amateur weight loss programs compared to OrthoClear aligners. They are so difficult to take out that you have to really, really want that bite of cookie. I have spent more time hungry in the past two days simply because it’s not worth it to take the aligners out. This, my friends, is the diet of the future. The trick is to pay for them yourselves. If your mom paid for them, you probably wouldn’t care as much and wouldn’t be so rigid about wearing them. However, I get a monthly statement reminding me that “you better freakin’ wear those aligners or else.” I hate to waste money, so bring on the pain.

I decided to work from home today to take care of my daughter. I don’t really have to do much to take care of her. She just rests on the couch and watches movies. She stops for a bite of Jell-O now and then. I had two appointments scheduled that I couldn’t break. I figure that she’s old enough to handle going along with me and keeping her mouth shut. I pump her full of Tylenol with a promise of McDonald’s for lunch, and we’re off. At the first salon, she did fairly well. She looked at magazines and didn’t interrupt—much. We head to McDonald’s. She takes one bite of her chicken nuggets and says, “These don’t taste like the chicken nuggets at the other McDonald’s.” Oh my gosh. Give me a break. I start to tell her they are all the same, and then I realize this is probably a pointless conversation, so in the trash they go. I figured she was sick because she didn’t even ask to play, which is usually the first thing she asks.

We dart off to the next appointment. She is doing OK, sipping water and then the fun begins. “Mommy, I’m so bored.” “Mommy, this place looks like a garden.” (It was a salon in a garden/historic home setting.) “Mommy, can I pick you a flower?” “Can I have your pen and draw something?”

Agh! I kept ignoring her and saying “not now.” She walks into the garden a bit. Next thing I know she is running back saying she saw a bee. I tell her to sit down. I look over and she is bawling, in tears. “The bee will come get me! He’ll find me!” Here I am in an interview and she’s crying about a damn bee that is long gone. The salon owner was patient, but I could tell she was probably wondering what I was thinking bringing a kid with me. Frankly, so was I. She tries to crawl up in my lap as I’m taking notes. She asks to look at the products and open them. Who is this kid? Where are her manners? She is interrupting like crazy!

I try to give her a break because she’s sick, but man…talk about stressful. In the end, it worked out OK. Hubby has been at the horse races all day “training” on a new product and then they take a break in the evening to do some betting. He won’t be here at all tonight. He has an early tennis game tomorrow. I am closing in on 24 hours for 3 stories to be due and two kids to get fed, bathed, and in bed tonight—one of them sick who will most likely wake up again in the night with a sore throat. I expect the evening to drag out. And although I feel like writing right now, I know how I feel around 9. I can’t write anymore. I don’t know….we’ll see how it all shakes out, I guess. I’m thinking of asking for an extension on one of the articles so I have the weekend.

However, I have to admit I am doing all of this with a bit of skip in my step. We had planned on a vacation to the Riviera Maya this summer. I was excited about it, but my first choice was Cabo. None of the dates or prices worked out. The price of the Riviera trip was a bit high, but the place was really nice. I kept trying to justify it over and over. With one home improvement just finished and paid for and one more on the horizon, we were both having a hard time swallowing the price tag of the vacation. However, we really need a break for just the two of us. Last night, we sat in the office and looked up another vacation package web site. Out of habit, we went straight to the same area on the Riviera Maya. We found a few things. Then hubby says, “Let’s just check out Los Cabos on this one and see.” Thank goodness we did. We found a great place with all of the amenities we like for $1500 less than the first trip. In fact, there are a few things we like about this place more. The only downside is that it is not an adults-only hotel BUT there is an adults-only pool and a few adults-only restaurants so I am OK with that. Those are the only place kids bother me, anyway. YES! The best part? It’s to Cabo. I have wanted to go there for a long time, and the city is just five minutes away if want to steal away for a day and check it out. I couldn’t be happier about it. So Viva La Mexico, baby!

As hard as my night is going to be with working, a highlight is that the cleaning gal, Ivonne, is here—God bless her—so that is one stress off of my plate. I think I am going to pick up the baby, get dinner somewhere quick and easy, take my oldest to the dr, drive through Starbucks, get them to bed, and just write until my head hits my laptop. I might take a small break to see who gets kicked off AI tonight. My prediction is Elliott. Although Kellie didn’t do so great, she’ll still get the boob vote.

Alright, I’m off to pop another Motrin…. Til next time….

 

 

Do you remember this play from, I think, the late 70s or early 80s… based on a book, right? Anyway, I was in this play in elementary school. I just have a vague memory of it. I remember there was quite a bit of singing, and that I had to sing a lot of solos. I remember feeling a lot of pressure because my mom is a singer and taught music at the school. I felt like people were expecting me to be good. I was maybe 7 years old. That’s a weird thing to think about when you’re 7.

 

My primary memory is that for one of my roles in the play, I was a snobby little girl. I had to have curly, springy ringlets, so my mom and I practiced with my thin, straight hair every night for a week to get them just right. I think I was somewhat satisfied with the result on the day of the play. I had to wear a frilly dress and be prissy and sassy. I had to say, “Ladies first, Ladies first!” a lot. I think the moral in the end is that we came upon some tigers who wanted to eat us. Of course, then everyone said, “Ladies first” and I guess I was eaten. I don’t know; it’s a fuzzy memory at best.

 

What I do remember is feeling very uncomfortable playing that role. I wanted to be good at it, and I think I had it down. I mean, people laughed at all the right times and complimented my song. But I didn’t like snobs. I didn’t hang out with snobs. I didn’t want to be a snob. I was afraid that if I played the role (which was coveted by several girls in the class who didn’t get it) too well, that I would become too believable. Even though I knew who I really was, I was afraid others wouldn’t. In fact, I have, to some degree, battled that all of my life.

 

I’ll try to explain. First of all, my hometown was extremely small, as I have mentioned before. There wasn’t a lot of drive or ambition there. However, I think I was born with more than enough drive to make up for the people who didn’t have it. If I wanted a role in a play, to be cheerleader, to be twirler, to be on the tennis team, I just went for it. I would find out what I needed to do to win and just do it. Did I always win? No. I can remember not making the cheerleading squad the first two times I tried out in junior high. But that’s what made me better, and I was a cheerleader every year until I graduated. If I was having trouble in a class, I would do whatever I needed to do to keep my grades up, including before-school math tutorial at 6 a.m. I also knew my weaknesses. Outside of tennis, sports simply wasn’t my thing. This determination lasted. I knew I wanted to write for a magazine. It certainly wasn't easy getting here, but I knew I wouldn't stop until I did.

 

While I knew on the inside that I was a regular girl who just liked to go for what she wants (I took Journalism the minute I could because I always knew I wanted to be a writer), others saw me as “too good” or possibly some sort of elitist. Maybe it was whispered; maybe it was said to my face. Mostly, it was implied (as I sometimes find in the comments on this blog.) I lost good friends because they didn’t make cheerleader, too, or they weren’t pushed through to an accelerated class. It never dawned on me that we wouldn’t be friends even if we didn’t cheer together. But I quickly learned otherwise. I also lost friends to “the dark side.” There was no way I was going to screw up a good record and the shot of getting the hell out of town by getting caught drinking or doing drugs. Then, of course, I was a prude and too good all over again. And don’t even get me started with sex. Sure, a great guy would pay attention to you in that town – if you’d sleep with him. If not, you were uncool. Plain and simple. The teen pregnancy rate in that small town is alarmingly high, by the way.

 

I just recalled a memory from my senior year. Those dumb “popularity” contests – Most Likely to Succeed, Most Beautiful, Best Dressed, etc. I remember secretly hoping that I wouldn’t win them. If it was academic, I’d be OK with it. Sure enough, the results were announced over the loudspeaker. I knew I’d either have someone to eat lunch this week or not, depending on the results. I got Most Likely to Succeed, Best Dressed, and Most Beautiful. I was also Homecoming Queen my senior year. I literally….literally….prayed I wouldn’t get that. I remember those announcements too. One of my friends ran off crying when she wasn’t nominated. I chased after her. She said, “I always thought you should get Most Beautiful and I should get Homecoming Queen.” If I could, at that moment, I would have cut off my right arm for her to wear that totally ridiculous crown. Shortly after I was crowned, I remember the sponsor asking if I wanted to pose for pictures and take the crown home for more photos. I said no, and promptly handed it back. Supposedly, you were to remain “in court” to watch the game the first half. I quickly ditched my dress and put on my cheerleading uniform. My “reign” was over. The next day, at the preparations for the senior Halloween carnival, I received the cold shoulder from a few of the girls. While I should have been proud and excited, I was worried and upset. Once again, being a “nice girl” didn’t pay off. Or so I thought.

 

I suppose what I’m trying to get at here is that for most of my life, it seems I am punished for being “a good girl” or “nice.” If I don’t join in on the negative gossip at work, I must be a “rat” when really, I just don’t want to deal with it or know something I shouldn’t. Plus, I’d rather be working so I can get out time and see my kids. If I don’t smoke at bar at happy hour, you can bet that the girls who do have conversations I’ll never hear or be able to join in. Are they talking about me? I certainly believe so.  If I don’t join in on the “sabotage” of an employee at work, it must mean I’m not a “team player” when really, I don’t want to ever be a part of anyone’s career demise. Bad karma. If I am friendly and outgoing with a male—be it a friend, a co-worker, etc.—then I obviously must be flirting with them. Or worse, I am giving them attention b/c I feel like they need some….poor thing… for whatever reason, and I’m labeled a fake or a tease. The truth is, I’m just being nice. Plain and simple.

 

My husband has often told me that I have a curse and a charm all rolled into one. Being a west Texas girl who grew up with a certain set of values and a pretty strict set of morals, I often get persecuted for the one thing that I like most about myself—kindness. I have a genuine affection for mankind in general. I like to give people the benefit of the doubt, at least at first. I like to hear other people’s stories. I am interested in others’ lives. That’s probably what drove me, in part, to become a reporter. I care when someone is hurting. If I can help, I’m the first in line. I pepper my conversations with gooey words such as ‘sweet,’ ‘darling,’ ‘cute,’ and ‘baby’…even the classic west Texas ‘sugar’ is used quite a bit. I apologize more than I should. I am overjoyed when something good happens to someone else, and I literally feel pain when someone I love hurts. I care too much about what others think, especially what they think of me. Some people get this, and that’s the reason they are my friend or love me. Others, for whatever reason, don’t…and I am a fake or “too good.” My respect and concern for others could not be more genuine. I know that inside, and that’s what keeps me going.

 

I’ve struggled with this aspect of my personality as an adult. My friends from way back when know me well, and we’ll be friends forever because we treasure each other—the good and the bad. But when I come in contact with new people through work, socially, at church, or even on this blog, I have realized that much like high school, in the “adult world,” people are so quick to decide who you are without really even knowing you.

 

Perfect example…. I especially love the acquaintances and relatives who think my husband and I must spend everything we make. Trust me, I’ve heard it said and I’ve definitely noticed it’s implied. Oh really? Do you have access to my bank account? Do you know something I don’t? What I want to do—which is ridiculous—is sit down with them and show them all of our retirement account and college savings statements. Show them that we always save first. If we have a big purchase in mind, we always save up for it. There is only one thing, outside of our house and one car, that we make payments on right now—a big screen television. Other than that, if we are sitting on it, looking at it, or using it, it’s paid for. We try to pay cash for most stuff, and if not, we suck it up at the end of the month and always pay our one credit card bill in full. We don’t believe in paying interest. We won’t finance anything, like that television, unless it’s interest free for a certain period. Oh wait a minute—I refuse to be labeled a liar. My teeth… the aligners. They are financed – interest free, naturally.

 

I have shopped resale clothing stores for my kids, and most of their things come from Target or similar places. I shop for clothes maybe three times a year big and only buy an item or two here and there if it’s something absolutely fantastic. My biggest indulgence is my hair. But the way I look at it -- my hair is something I wear every day. If I am going to work and be in front of clients, then I need to feel good about myself. A good hair day is, well, priceless.

 

I realize I’m rambling here…. But I’m on a roll. It’s like our house. When we bought the one we lived in prior to this one, we didn’t have a big down payment. We were new to the game. We learned a lot. Turns out, we had two mortgages with that house. We paid one off in order to build equity and get costs down. That turned out to be a wise choice. Also a wise choice was the updates we put into it. We got a full boat offer on the house the third day on the market and still made a profit. Plus, we were able to put down a nice-sized down payment on the new, larger house so that our payments are relatively the same. We save our taxes every month so that at the end of the year, we’re ready.  I just can’t stand it when people seem to judge us every time we talk about a home improvement project or a purchase. Outside of some willy-nilly things hubby has done, LOL, it’s all a very planned and sane process. I will never feel bad about home improvement projects. I have seen how it adds to the resale value of the home. Plus, dammit, I live here! If I’m going to live here, I am going to like it! And, we enjoy it. We set a goal, save for it, find a reasonable price, and then do it. The quizzical looks I get about money are downright annoying. We are in no way, shape, or form wealthy people. We are average. We work hard, we save hard, and we enjoy what’s left. I give to my church. I try to give to charity several times a year. However, there’s always someone ready to ask how much something costs or say, “must be nice.” The worst is when I worry about money or express a concern out loud and get in return, “Oh, I’m sure you can afford it.” Oh really? Thanks for chiming in. Do you know something I don’t know?

 

The one good thing that has come from almost a lifetime of experiencing this is that I am just about, I believe, over it. Call it maturity…experience…or exhaustion. Maybe it’s a combination of all three. I would say in the last year or so, I’ve stopped caring as much. Since I moved to this town, I have been on a quest to find my place thinking that I’m not settled. But at the end of the day, when I look around, I am more than settled. I have a job I’ve always wanted and that I’m pretty darn good at. I still have the same best friends from my hometown and from college. I married my college sweetheart and we have two of, in my opinion, the sweetest and cutest girls on the planet. I belong to and am involved in a church I really love. My family is nearby, and we talk almost daily. I talk to my best friend almost every day. I have friends locally as well which makes for a nice social life. If someone thinks that the way I am is offensive, overly nice, fake, or whatever….that I spend way too much…that I put up with too much crap from my husband (they don’t live in these four walls and know everything about our relationship)…well then, let them think it. What good will it do me to worry about what they think? Will it change it? Probably not. Plus, why should I have to defend myself when I’ve done nothing but be myself? It’s taken me almost 34 years to figure that out, but I think I’m just about there. This includes friends, acquaintances, and family members. Truly, what matters are the four souls that live within the confines of this house and share a life together, and we’re a pretty darn happy bunch of people. If I can keep that in mind every day, I’ll finally be free to be me…….

 

As for the weekend, a good example of us just being us…. This was a really good weekend. On Friday, hubby and I had a short afternoon date. I’m glad we did. It’s always nice to take time to reconnect. We got up Saturday and all ran errands together. We got a lot of flowers for the back patio to kind of spruce up our new arbor. We also bought all of the ingredients for our Easter dinner/MIL birthday party. We stopped by and grabbed a quick dinner on the way back. I put the baby to bed, and my oldest daughter and I planted flowers. It was nice. She would take a break between planting flowers and dying Easter eggs. She was really into it this year, and I have to say, she made some really pretty eggs! She set her Easter basket and eggs out for the bunny to hide. So “the bunny” went to work, stuffing eggs and putting the girls’ baskets together. Much like I received each Easter when I was a child, I put a  special toy inside of their baskets. I knew something Kate had been wanting, so that was easy. I sort of had to guess on the baby, but she didn’t really care! I had them all ready and sitting on the coffee table for when they came downstairs. They loved it!

 

Today, Sunday, I woke up early and got started with most of the dinner stuff so it would be somewhat ready. On the menu: Mexican-style roast beef, Baja twice-baked potatoes, French bread, “Granny’s green beans”, and a strawberry/blueberry spinach salad. For dessert, we had a Tiramisu birthday cake for my MIL. Anyway, I got the girls all spiffed up in their Easter dresses. They were so cute. We headed off to church, and when we returned, it was time to hunt eggs. Kate, of course, loved it. Liv just kept trying to run away down the street! It was hilarious. I finished up lunch and my MIL and her fiancée came over. It was a nice time. She liked her gift and the cake. All was well. We put the baby down for a nap, and the three of us fell asleep. We all slept for almost 3 hours. It was divine! The rest of the day has been laundry and getting stuff done around the house. We hung out on the back patio for awhile. It was really nice. Hubby just came in here to tell me what a great job I did with Easter for the kids and his mom’s birthday. I’m glad he noticed the effort I put into it. We just spent a lot of time together enjoying the nice weather and the time off. It was a good weekend. I’m back on deadline again, big surprise, so my week is already set. But it’s a good thing to be busy. It gets me closer to the next weekend. Oh, I almost forgot. I finally got the iced tea maker I had been wanting. That was a GOOD thing. I am going to go make myself a glass of tea, watch tivo'd Desperate Housewives, and fold laundry. Yes, I live the GOOD LIFE! ;)

 

‘til next time…..

So today turned out to be quite an interesting day. I wrapped up some big projects at work. What a great feeling! I was able to leave the office around lunchtime, so I met hubby for a nice sushi lunch. Afterward, we walked over to a new winery type place for a tasting session. It was surprisingly good. We wound up finding his mom's birthday present and purchasing some fine vintages of our own. So we drove over to our favorite indy movie theater. It was a tough call between two films, but I am hoping to save one for a GNO, so we chose Thank You For Smoking. It was really good. I highly recommend it. We split a bottle of wine. It was a nice date.

 

By that time, it was time to pick up the kids and have dinner. Well, the baby was in no mood for going out -- so we find out once we get to the restaurant. So hubby changes order to go. Disappointing, but not the worst thing in the world. I am NO good at mid-afternoon wine. Never have been. Let's just say hubby owes me for a thing or two, so now that the baby is in bed I am leaving him in charge of getting the oldest settled in any minute. I am headed to PJ-Land and a  moment with the remote control. I look forward to a good night's sleep,in that tomorrow is fileld with tons of errands and then Easter, of course, on Sunday. I am just glad to have a bit of a break from work. The blog I originally intended to post is below. This, as I have mentioned before, is one of my absolute most favorite holidays. I have so many cherished memories. Easter shaped my childhood in so many ways. I hope I can create the magic for my children as well, both "pagan" and the real reason. If nothing else, they should look adorable in their Easter dresses. Awwww......

 

.... til next time, my fair blog dorks, as I have a bit of a wine head right now...

 

Things That Make No Sense

 

Eating Chick Fil A and then getting on the elliptical, barely breaking even.

 

Having a salad for lunch, followed back a pack of peanut M&M’s.

 

Putting a safety deposit key up on a bedroom fireplace mantel, looking at it all the time thinking, “I need to secure that.” Never do. It’s not secured, nor is it on the mantel.

 

Vowing to save money, and then booking a vacation.

 

Griping about how busy you are and have so much to do, then when you get free time, doing a whole bunch of nothing.

 

Worrying about how I will look in a bathing suit on vacation when I won’t know a single person there.

 

Stressing out about deadlines at work, yet waiting until the last minute to finish a story.

 

Not wanting a third child for 100 reasons, and then seeing a picture of one of my children’s sonograms and wanting one more…just to have that moment again.

 

Caring what people I don’t even know think of me.

 

Trying to control everything, when really, I can control little to nothing.

 

Deleting my blog that I’ve worked so hard on, simply because of a few random and ridiculous comments.

 

 

 

Exercise tonight or pour a glass of wine and chill?

 

Crash after I exercise or go ahead and wash my hair and get it over with so that tomorrow morning will go faster?

 

Leave the kids in daycare tomorrow on an early release day at work to get errands run or blow off errands and hang out with them but not get much done?

 

Hide eggs Saturday night or crack of dawn on Sunday?

 

Have kids hunt eggs prior to Sunday School or after?

 

Roast beef or ham for Easter lunch?

 

Go to a new hair guy I’ve considered or stick with the same?

 

Have faith that Ace, Ace Baby can pull this off or join reality that he’s really not that great?

 

Four nights or five nights vacation? Money and time away from kids factor in.

 

Buy a small tanning package before Mexico or just deal with the pale me?

 

Plant flowers around house now or hold out a bit longer?

 

Admit to hubby I can’t find safety deposit key or hope for the best that it will turn up?

 

Re-purchase lost pants or (see above)?

 

Keep baby with in-home care provider or start looking around for a daycare?

 

Send flowers for MIL’s birthday and Mother’s Day or put in some effort and try to select an actual gift?

 

School Hubby on "The Way It Is" or just keep going with the flow?

 

Be excited that I have more than 33,800 hits to this blog, or wonder why in the world anyone cares what I have to say?

 

….. Keep this blog I started months ago just for me, or delete the whole thing, as I am tempted to do today?

 

Four Things

Four jobs I've had in my life:   1. Police reporter for my college paper. That was SO fun!   2. First job - waitress at pizza hut. My first tip was 50 cents.   3. Public Relations for a large school district.   4. Today, I am a managing editor for a magazine.      Four words I would use to describe myself:   1. Short (like Cori!)   2. People-pleaser   3. Determined   4. Happy     Four things I say the most:   1. Geez Louise   2. I can't now. I'm on deadline.   3. I'm about to count to 3!   4. No Olivia!     Four movies I would watch over and over:   1. Say Anything   2. Moulin Rouge   3. 16 Candles   4. Gone With the Wind     Four places I have lived:   1. First house with first family in a west Texas town.   2. Small house that got torn down when parents got divorced and we moved...just with mom and sis.   3. House we built in same town when mom remarried -- where I essentially "grew up." Home.   4. Run-down duplex in crappy college town with first husband. (Man, what a life!)    Bonus 5 - Dorm in college, apartment in college, apartments in my single life in current city, and 3 houses when married in current city.   Four tv shows I love to watch:   1. Desperate Housewives   2.  American Idol   3. Real Housewives of Orange County (a new fave)   4. Number 1 Single     Four places I have been:   1. Bahamas   2. Hawaii   3. Puerta Vallarta   4. Italy and England     Four websites I visit daily:   1. Spaces sites   2. Kidd Kraddick in the Morning   3. My magazine's blog   4. Soap Opera Fan.com - to get DAys of Our Lives summaries     Four of my favorite foods:   1. Cheese Enchiladas   2. Some Sushi   3. A nice steak   4. Pasta - most any kind     Four places I don't like going:   1. The doctor   2. In my boss' office   3. Gas station bathrooms   4. Funerals     Four places I would rather be right now:   1. Vacation   2. Sleeping in in bed   3. At the mall, with plenty of money   4. On a nice patio somewhere, sipping coffee and leisurely reading the paper with no "have-to's" on my never-ending list of things to do.....   Have a great day!

 

1.) When showering, do you start the water & then get in or get in & then start the water?

Start the water first. It's always COLD!!!!!!!

 

2.) Do you read the labels on your shampoo bottle?
Not really. I use the same brand most of the time, so I know whassup.

3.) Do you moan in the shower like the people on the herbal essence commercial?
Of course.

4.) Have you ever showered with someone of the opposite sex?
Much to my friend Aimee's shock and horror, no, I have not. There. I said it. NO!!!!  I don't know why. It just hasn't really "come up" in my life. It also seems a little, well, crowded and just downright awkward.

5.) Have you ever brushed your teeth in the shower?
My homes have always been equipped with bathroom sinks, so no.....

 

6.) How old do you look?

Younger than my age to some people, but lately, I can see "the years catching up with me." I'd say I look my age.

 

7). Have you ever smuggled something into America?
I don't think so.....

 

8.). Do you live in a city with a good sports team?
HA HA HA..... football...no. Baseball.... no. Hockey.... used to be. Basketball...yes, finally.

 

9.). Have you ever finished off the popcorn?