Is Latino Time Real?

I write for TikiTiki, a blog that is a joy and a pleasure to read, as well as to contribute to.

In my post there today, I pose the question/rumor/urban myth?: Is Latino Lateness a real thing?

We'd love to hear if you've had any experience with this, or if it just gets your gussie up to even hear about it.

Happy Saturday!

Lessons Learned

It's been a long time since I've done a guest post. Renee, of Lessons From Teachers and Twits, and I have had this one today in the works since December.

I met Renee through Julie C Gardner [byanyothername], so I knew she'd walk the king of content walk. This English teacher runs a series of guest posts on Fridays worth following. It's called #Lessons Learned; and they're not always lessons from the classroom.

I hope you click over and meet Renee, and read about how sometimes things seem ethereally familiar to us for a reason.

Have a wonderful Friday!

Renee of Teachers and Twits

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The Grunting You Hear Is A Dead Giveaway

I don't even notice that I do it. I can't hear a thing. But I'm told it goes on.

As I plopped my fat butt down onto the footstool after work today, my body making contact with the cushioned leather seat, I let out a big oooophtah.

Taking a deep breath in, I bent over to remove my rain boots, I'm told I accompanied that movement with a sound reminiscent of a Russian weight lifter. Struggling to pull my snug boots off, I let out a strained aaaayyngyaaah sound, as the boots finally gave way and my strangled feet were set free. The relief was so sweet from the eight spent in vise-grip crampedness that I couldn't help but let out an appreciative sigh reserved for a more private room.

Stretched out against the brown leather chair, I finally relaxed after being gone from home all day. I let the air out of my body like a slowly deflating balloon. Audibly. And my children had to let me know about it:

Mom. You can tell you're getting old because you make a noise every time you do something, just like old people do. You sound like a dead person trying to get up.

What? I do not.

Yes, Mom. You do.

And with the snap of a finger, my three angels descended upon me like jackals surrounding a fresh kill. They continued:

It's like you have to announce every move you make, Mom. Pulling off your shoes, hanging up your coat, unloading the dishwasher, making the beds, carrying the laundry upstairs. It's ALL THE TIME, Mom.

Really? I announce everything every time I do something? And this bothers you? All of you? 

It drives us nuts. You're old.

How much does it get on your nerves? I mean, does it get on your nerves so much you'd give anything to not hear it?

Mom. Seriously. Have you ever heard yourself parallel park?

Hm. Well, then, seems to me this is all easily fixed. If I make annoying sounds with every buttload of work I do around here, how about YOU all empty the dishwasher, make the beds, carry the laundry, take off my shoes ... Voila. No more grunts and groans from your gramma mama.

::crickets::

What I thought. Now, if you all will excuse me. I've got to get up off this chair and start some dinner ... nnnnnnyyghaaa ... one of you boys help me up, will you?

Photo cc

Glory Days

Where do all the old dictators go? Who listens to them as they feebly fight off the forced spoon fed stewed prunes with cries of "No negotiating!"

I think I found the place of their golden sunsets.

And, yes, grandpa, you did have quite a brutal, oppressive regime. Now eat your prunes.

Glory Days, my post today at Aiming Low. Where we set the bar just high enough for you to step over.

Eight Giveaway Winners

We have the winners from the Great Two Year Blogoversary Giveaway.  I have to confess, I love giveaways just because doing the random number generator at Random.org is so much fun.

I'm going to use it to figure out who gets the last sour cream brownie in this house from now on.

Between tweets and comments, we had 156 entries. Don't blame you all, some sweet prizes. Thank you all for entering.

And now, the winners:


Anna Lefler's The Chicktionary goes to Lucky Winner Anna See of An Inch of Gray.

Let's Panic About Babies, the ORIGINAL pregnancy and parenting parody book by Alice Bradley and Eden Kennedy, signed author copy goes to Lucky Kristin Z of Taming Insanity.

Scary Mommy's New Book, Jill Smokler's  Confessions of a Scary Mommy, signed by the author, won by Kim of All Work And No Play Make Mommy Go Something.

The T shirt I covet, from the fantastic web series The Louise Log, won by Lucky Ali of My Suitcase Full of Tricks.

The incredibly exciting social media package generously offered through EliRoseSocial worth $150 dollars goes to Brian Miller the brave, from WaystationOne. The male among us in a sea of women bloggers. He is one cool dude, you all need to get to know this guy.


Smooth frizz-free hair for 30 days, thanks to Organix at-home keratin hair treatment, won by Lucky Jen of KvetchMom.

Guest Spot on Mondays for your child, offered up by Baby E, won by the Lucky children of Kir from The Kir Corner.

The reason I love my life, a can of Bustelo fine ground Espresso Roast coffee, won by Lucky Rach of Life Ever Since.

Congratulations to all. Winners, please email me your addresses and I will send out your prizes. **For the Scary Mommy book and The Louise Log T shirt, I'll be forwarding your address info on to them, they'll be sending out your prizes (hope this is alright..)

Thank you all so much for entering, thank you for giving me your time, and thanks for stopping here -- with all the thousands of blogs out there -- thank you for stopping here.

Now, go on, before you get me all verklempt.

Love you guys.

True Confessions

My post, along with my confession, at Aiming Low today: What I really thought when they showed me my baby for the first time.

Just keepin' it real. Hopin' it doesn't scare any mama wannabe's away.

**Don't forget to enter to win one of 8 great prizes. The Great Two Year Blogoversary Giveaway, Here.

Don't Read This

...you should be reading this. And entering. Eight great prizes, Eight chances to win, Eight winners. (did you ever notice, if you type eight too many times it starts to mess with your mind?)

I'd enter if I were you.

The Great Two Year Blogoversary Giveaway. Don't miss it.

Astounding

So many times, I have been guilty of reading something, but not really paying attention to what is there, in the words. I've been working hard lately to take in what someone is telling me, and not just letting my eyes fly over their sentences.

A perfect illustration:  I met a blogger with a larger than life story. In her introductory blog post, she details a time in her life where circumstances required her to be in a hospital for nine months. Now, we can do a skip like a flat rock over water skim with our eyes on her words 9 months, or we can stop and marvel at what she is saying: NINE months in a hospital.

Today I am writing my 547th post. 547. That number astounds me. What have I had to say, and what kept me coming back to say more?

It's this blog, and it's you. You and the interaction and sense of belonging and acceptance that you have all given me here.

I'm celebrating two years of blogging. And I celebrate because my life became better when I began blogging, and 99.9 percent of that reason is all of you. My life is better and richer because of the relationships formed through and because of this blog.

You have all become a big part of my life, I don't like to think about the time that I didn't even know you. And, so, to celebrate two years of knowing you -- which is the real reason to celebrate more than the two years of blogging -- I am having a mother of a giveaway because I want to try and give you all something back, for what you've given me.

1.  Anna Lefler's The Chicktionary

Yes, I have this book. Yes, I want you to have one of your own. The Chicktionary, by the award-winning writer and humorist, Anna Lefler, of Things Just Keep Getting Weirder. Why should I be the only coolest mom on the block? Impress and loosen up the moms at school pick up with your chicktalk as well as know what the hip moms mean when you eavesdrop and hear "wasband" "fat pants" "back fat"  and "Basset knees." I'd be lost without this book (no reason for people to know the true dork that I am, right?) Why am I giving a copy away? Because it will make you laugh. Don't want to wait until then to laugh? Go now and see The Chicktionary official trailer here. 

*Thank you, Anna.

 


2.  Alice Bradley's and Eden Kennedy's Let's Panic About Babies

Alice Bradley of Finslippy. Eden Kennedy of Fussy.org. Two clever, witty, funny, funnnnnny women who have written a book that touches on the issues that truly matter if and if you don't have children; like how to tolerate your partner's need for love, and how everything wrong in your life is really your mother's fault after all. Impossible to read this book and not emerge brainier, more smart assier, and smuggishly humor secure.

You want this. Do I even have to add the part about it being signed by both authors? Or is that just the icing on the cake? Can't wait and want some icing on the cake today? Go check out Let's Panic About Babies book trailer: a work of genius.


*Thank you, Alice and Eden.



3.  Confessions of a Scary Mommy by Scary Mommy Jill Smokler

This book, written by Scary Mommy Jill Smokler of the incredibly successful blog, Scary Mommy, is near and dear to my heart. I'll be giving it out at baby showers because it is full of truths. Funny, bittersweet, poignant, shocking, endearing, heartfelt, honest truths. Any new mom would welcome this like they'd welcome an invitation for a three hour nap. Though all the mom confessions in here make you feel so very normal, I think the most exciting part about this book is how many moms will reach the end of this book feeling reassured and like they're not such a bad mommy after all.

I can honestly say that if I had had the good fortune of having this book 17 years ago when I first became a mother, I never would have felt as inadequate and scared as I did. 

Signed by the amazingly generous Scary Mommy, Jill Smokler, author.


*Thank you so much, Jill.


4.  Awesome T shirt from the web series The Louise Log

This T shirt is so cool. How could it not be? Have you seen The Louise Log?

I'm short on the hours in my day, but I don't miss an episode of this web series. Miss an episode, and you'll miss Louise reminding herself to keep her eyes on the vegetables at the farmer's market so the stand owners don't think she's checking out their package. And I feel better knowing that I'm not the only one living in daily fear that school officials are going to call me in on my parenting. And how often have we, the honest ones, confessed to having a little bit of an anxiety attack the first time we're behind closed doors with that new male therapist. 

I may be painfully unhip from the waist down with my out of touch Old Navy jean choices (really, do they have to make the waist that low nowadays?) but from the top on up, I am white on black kickin'. Don't wait to win this T shirt, order one for yourself. All it takes is a small nudge from a T shirt like this to reawaken that cool chick that is still inside.


*Thank you from the bottom of my heart, Anne Flournoy.
  
5.  EliRose Social Media Special Package

$150.00 worth of Social Media Services package from the impressively gifted tech geeks, Liz Jostes and Kristin Zaslavsky, of Eli Rose Social Media. Here's what they can do: help you in establishing a social media presence and growing a strong brand presence online, we can help you improve the look and layout of your site, launch your “big idea”, increase your site’s traffic, integrate a business blog into your marketing plan and broaden your overall virtual presence.

Details of this amazing package, here's the dealio:

Social Media Analysis -
- Evaluation of three (3) social profiles (branding, imagery and text)
- Review of recent history (up to 4 weeks) of activity on 3 social platforms of choice, with suggestions for  best practices and ideas for  improved engagement. That's $150.00 worth of the best from the best, to the lucky winner. Tweet, RT, FB it, comment 10 times in a row: do what you gotta do, folks. This is a good one.

*Proud to off this to my readers, Liz and KLZ. Thank you.

6.  My Secret to Beautiful Hair

I can't believe I'm doing this myself. GAH. What kind of a spell do you people have me under? I use this product: once a month. And it works. I am beautiful for 30 days straight. That's me on the box.

Photo Credit

Organix Brazilian Keratin Therapy formaldehyde-free Home Blow Out Kit (don't make it dirty).


*I'm such a good person.
 
7. Baby E's Contribution:

 

(because he loves you too) A guest spot here, on Good Day Regular People on Baby E's Monday slot, featuring your child.

*Baby E: you're such a budding business man. Thank you. 

8. and finally: The Reason I Was Able To Post 547 Times:

Flickr  cc

A can of this, faithful readers, and you'll be posting 547 posts in no time.

Dunkin' Donuts? Seattle's Best? Please, for amateurs. Half a cup of this fine ground espresso blend and you'll be taller, faster, stronger, smarter.

I've been fueling up with this since my Colombian grandmother filled my baby bottle with it. *and they wondered why I scored Grade 12+ on my 3rd grade reading test*

*Thank you to my abuela, who taught me the ways of the bean of caffeine.

Good Luck to all of you!
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*Because there is so much booty, there will be 8 winners. I will do a random.org for each of the prizes, in other words: one prize to each winner (8 prizes in all).

Comments, tweets, postings on FB, will all count as a separate entry. Enter as many times as you wish. Winners will be announced at the end of the week. 

Really, enter all week long.

Good luck, and thank you all, for reading, commenting here, keeping me company in my life. I appreciate you so much.

Washington, D.C.

The last time I was in Washington, D.C., I had gone alone. I was there to visit my niece, who -- I will shamelessly braggity tell you -- was a CAPTAIN in the Air Force, and she and her husband were stationed there. (*high five, girl) D.C. was very cool, but I saw it with different eyes then; tourist show-me-some-thrills eyes.

Two weeks ago, when my husband and I took our two youngest children to D.C., being there with my family made me feel as if I had never been there. There was so much to do and only one week's time; we had to choose what we felt was important for our kids to come away seeing.  What this meant was sitting down and without realizing it, laying out our values. Discussing what being in our nation's capitol meant.

Our starting point was The Smithsonian. The Smithsonian is actually 17 museums, 2 specialty museums, and one National Zoo. There is no admission fee to any of these sites. They are free. That price was right for my frugal husband's budget. He is still whispering Smithsonian in his sleep. Boom. Our week right there. We would spend our time visiting 2 museums a day, and save the last day for the National Zoo. Done and discussed and settled.

And then our oldest son called, he wasn't with us. He asked what day we'd be going to see the memorials: the Washington Monument, the Lincoln Memorial, the Jefferson Memorial, the WWII Memorial, the Vietnam Memorial, the Korean War Memorial. Arlington National Cemetery, the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. We told him we didn't have the time with all the museums to see. I felt my face turn red with shame when he said, "I can't believe it. You're in D.C. and you're not going to any memorials, mom?" The way he sounded, his disappointment, made me turn to my husband and tell him there was a change in plans. We'd be going to Arlington.

The Smithsonian Museums were all wonderful, of the ones we were able to visit. The memorials were the moment of pause that gave weight to our trip. But the sight of Arlington National Cemetery, the first glimpse of rows and rows of white crosses of service members that knew nothing else than to sacrifice for their country, I can't even begin to explain the emotions we felt.

Photo Image

 
All those lives stretched out in markers before us.

No one grew restless, no one complained, no one asked when we would be going home.

About ten burials a day take place at Arlington, each of them by horse drawn casket. The day we were there, we witnessed one service and one procession. There are signs every 100 feet or so requesting silence, making the steady clip-clop of the horses' hooves even more solemn. That stillness, together with the sight of soldiers in their respectful ceremonial dress dutifully marching behind, following the flag draped casket, did both my husband and me in. Our children knew not to ask why we were wiping our eyes.

Photo Image

  
At the end of our day there, we climbed to the top of Arlington's hills to see the Tomb of the Unknowns.

Photo Image

Since July 2, 1937, a guard has been posted there 24 hours a day, 7 days a week -- no matter how cold, how hot, how heavy the rain or snow, the watch has never ceased. During 9/11, the guard never left.

The monument is dedicated to American service members who have died without their remains ever being identified. Without anyone on earth ever knowing who they were.

On the western panel, centered and inscribed, are the words:

HERE RESTS IN

HONORED GLORY

AN AMERICAN

SOLDIER

KNOWN BUT TO GOD

We had found the most important thing to see in Washington, D.C.
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But Why Did She Do It?

I know, I know; it was well over two weeks ago that Angelina stuck that leg out like she was Inspector Gadget, "Go Go Gadget Chicken Leg" while presenting at the 2012 Academy Awards.  But I can't stop thinking about it: what was she thinking, exactly?

I think I know. Please stop over at my post today, on Aiming Low, and we can all get some rest, knowing what Jolie Pitt was really doing that night.

I thank you. You all are the best.

 

Aiming Low: where mediocrity is our goal.

My Mom Is Really Cool But She Gets Crazy About TV Shows

It's Monday, and my youngest, Baby E., has decided to start posting again. He began posting on Mondays two years ago, and has taken some time off.  But he felt the urge to get back online tonight. Thank you for welcoming him and giving him your time today.
It means a lot.

xo
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Hi. It's been a long time since I was here because I felt very very sick for the past weeks. I was so sick that every five minutes I would go GREEN in my face (put that green in all caps, mom). But I trudged on anyway.

Mom and Dad made me go to school.

And on vacation to Washington, D.C. on vacation. That's all I want to say about me. But we went to so many places on vacation: Lincoln Memorial, Washington Monument, and museums, and the World War II Memorial, and the National Zoo.

We went to Washington because my big brother got into a special school there. So we went there.

This is my big brother

Believe it or not, I was so sick I didn't want to go to the gift shops or kick rocks when I walked. Usually I kick rocks all the time when I walk and my mom tells me that's why my shoes never last.

Ok, now I'm done talking about being sick.

I barfed on the plane.

Twice.

There and back.

Now I'm done talking about that.

Now I will get to how my mom is crazy about TV shows.

Whenever people act really dumb or fake she gets really mad. She yells at the TV, "What are you doing? Don't try to guess the sausage names! What are you thinking?" My dad says, "Yeah, yell at the TV because they can hear you." It always makes us laugh. She went crazy tonight with Amazing Race.

I like books A LOT still. So much that at school on Friday I wanted to go to a book store, not for toys, just books, and all day I just wanted to go to a book store. I am reading The Spy X series, "Hide and Seek," by Peter Lerangis. There are four books so far. I like the books because they're mysterious. Like The 39 Clues. (Book 10 of The 39 Clues was awesome).

I like to read so much that I even read the juice carton when it's on the table.

What makes me mad when I get books from the library is when they have food stains on them, or pages are torn, or the cover is ripped, or pages coming off. People need to take care of books because you want others to read them when you use the library books. It'll be your turn and you don't want a dirty ripped up book. I wish you could know who took the book out last because I would tell them.

Once, I waited for a book from the library and it took like six months -- no lie -- and then I asked about it and they said they didn't have it anymore because "it was damaged beyond repair." BEYOND. Can you believe that?

The book was The Sherlock Files, Book four (there are four of them).

I am better now and played soccer today.

If you have questions about my vacation or the books I read, please tell me.

Oh. My brother got a 3DS for Christmas and it's super cool. I'll do that post later because I have like SO MUCH to say about it. Like crazy, so much.

One thing I'll tell you about it:  it's amazing. ( I have a million things to say).

And I have to tell you about the time I got hives after I ate 24 packs of Skittles.

Bye. I'm still sick a little bit so I can't help clean up at night yet. My brothers are cleaning up now.

Bye.

*I only feel good enough to read my book.

P.S. What else I really don't like about books is when they make it into a cliffhanger. A cliffhanger and the next book isn't even out yet. I go crazy when that happens, like my mom does with Amazing Race.

Book Four of Spy X just ended -- it's a cliffhanger!!

Bye.

Oh, Adele,

Our cathartic crooner, Adele. We are at risk, America, World, have you been to her blog lately? SHE'S HAPPY.

I couldn't stand by while we are in peril of losing this woman that always makes me feel so cleansed after a good cry no matter what song of hers comes on the radio. I felt a call to action, and Voila.

My post today, at Aiming Low, an Open Letter To Adele's Attending Physician. I hope he can save her, for us.

Aiming Low, strive for the mediocre.

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So, I'm Going To Be Okay

About two summers ago, after I followed a smell in my kitchen that led me to some ground turkey meat I must have set out to defrost days ago -- in the cabinets with the dishes, and after I opened the freezer and found a bag of fingerling potatoes next to the lemon sorbet, and after I found the bananas I had been looking for since the weekend sitting next to the shoes in the backroom, I quietly and without much of a fight, accepted the fact that I must have early onset dementia.

I'm not joking or making light about those with this condition. I really believed it, accepted it, and went on with my days; always being sure to have a little church pew pencil and mini notebook in my back pocket to write things down; important things, like who was at soccer until what time and at what park. Things that matter, like that.

I knew it was early onset dementia, my kids knew I had it, and my husband shared the diagnosis along with me. Just a fact of life, we learned to deal with it.

Until last week Sunday afternoon, when my oldest son was reading an article in the Wall Street Journal, and he happily cried out as if he just saw winning lottery numbers, Mom! Dad! You guys don't have Alzheimer's!

My husband opened his eyes from his spot on the floor in front of the fireplace where he'd been taking his 2 o'clock nap, I looked up from my new book Cooking Light and Feelin' Good, and together we shouted We don't?

No! You don't! He filled us in. It says here, you're normal! If you forget your keys, that's normal. If you forget your car, and walk home, that's not. More good stuff like this follows. If you can't remember your friend's name from high school, that's normal; if you can't remember your kid's name, that's not.

My husband and I looked at each other and grinned. We're normal!

Turns out we are just over worked, under rested, maxed out, life engulfed, sleep deprived, inadequately exercised, middle aged working parents. The clinical term is Normal Aged Forgetfulness.

We're okay.

Isn't that great?

I want to share this sense of relief with you. The article gave some more examples of what's normal versus what needs to be examined. Here, for you, nuggets of reassuring good news:

To lose car keys, normal. To lose a car, not.

To forget your childhood address, normal. To forget current address, not.

Forgetting names or appointments, normal. Forgetting your spouse's name, not.

Forgetting why you walked into a room, normal. Forgetting where your room is in your house, not.

Forgetting the names of things occasionally, normal. Forgetting the name of a toothbrush while you hold it in your hand, not.

Forgetting where you're going while you're driving, normal. Forgetting where your house is on your block, not.

Wearing clothes for days in a row without changing, not normal. Yoga pants Monday till Wednesday, totally fine.

Unable to manage household finances any longer, not normal. Kind of putting a dent in the credit card during Anthropologie's Winter Clearance Sweater Sale, clearly normal.

Wearing your black cardigan inside out for a full day, normal. Wearing your bra backwards for even one minute, not normal.

Talking to yourself, so normal. Yelling at yourself to answer back, not.

Occasionally blanking out on what your phone number is, normal. Forgetting what a number is, not.

Putting potatoes in the freezer, normal. Putting your watch in the sugarbowl, not. (Okay, I made that one up.)

Getting upset that Jim Halpert let that temp-tress Kathy in his room with only her underwear on, normal. Actually writing a letter to Jim Halpert reminding him of what it took to get Pam, still normal.

Good news, people. We're all going to be okay.

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Smart Choices

The older we get as parents, the more free we are to make decisions about what we want for ourselves. Our children have grown and aren't as needy, and we can kind of start to rebuild ourselves into people again.

We can make decisions about our appearances and our clothing: we are no longer limited to tops that allow access to breasts in seconds for on demand nursing. We are able to choose the foods we want to eat with only ourselves as a concern rather than avoiding the Three Bean Salad because you'll be dealing with little one's colic from your Beano-less breast milk. We can decide how we want to spend our time and will no longer have the automatic response of kids are down! I'm going in for a nap!

We weathered it all, and now, I say congratulations on surviving one of the wildest rides in town: young parenthood. You will be faced with opportunities now that you thought would never show their face again.

I have some suggestions for you; ideas for smart choices while you work your way back to being Healthy, Strong and Attractive...like the days of yore.

Tips for Emerging Out Of Parenting: The Early Days

Limit Your Snacks: Yes, you'll want to eat everything in sight because now you by yourself or you with someone else can grab a few minutes here and there to actually chew and eat something versus choking on the food you jam down your throat while screaming SIT DOWN and getting up 15 times to refill juice glasses. You can sit and eat: this is a dangerous combination. Be aware.

Altering your Appearance: You will trick yourself into thinking that you can turn back time and go back to being that hot mama once more. Mouth jewelry, pierced navels, some new ink: why not. Well, don't. Not without considering first how things have stretched and pulled and lost resiliency. Do you really want a ring hanging from an already looking-like-it's-a-winking-eye bellybutton? Or risk chipping one of your ever softening osteoporotic teeth as your pierced tongue clangs away during Junior's Parent Teacher Conferences? Just think, all I ask.

Smoking and Drinking: the old college days. The old single days. Sitting at a bar, thinking you look so irresistible with a cigarette hanging just by an ash from your beautiful full lower lip as you drink a sexy drink made with enough booze to light your husband's brand new Charbroil grill you gave him for Father's Day. Don't do it...you won't look sexy and wanton, you'll look tired and haggard and someone walking by will drop a card in your lap inviting you to audition on the Jerry Springer Show. 


Losing 25 pounds by next Thursday: May have looked good to do at one time, not so fast not so good this time. You're older...a few pounds round out the edges and fill out the sags. Take it slow, a pound a month. *snort* as if losing a pound a month is even going to happen with your new metabolism...

Thinking you can hit the dance floor like you used to do: Uh uhn. Nuh uh, as a matter of fact. Don't you know that the day you got married is the day your dance moves stayed frozen in time? Forever? Like the way I'm still doing The Cabbage Patch? And my husband does The Running Man, just about beating himself up in the process? Yeah. True. Turn on the radio...see what your body does. I rest my case.

Enjoy your new freedom, my lovely readers, just take it easy. Though we may think it's only been seconds since we left the playing field, we're not what we used to be.

 Photo via Flickr cc 

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**Am I the only one a little bitty bit worried about Jim Halpert? What's going on with that man? Let me know what you think. My post up today, at Sprocket Ink.


Be in the know, be the clever one, read Sprocket Ink.

Icky People Go Away, Don't They?

Yuk. Icky People. The kind that turn you into an impulsive three year old kid that just wants to push 'em down on the wood chips.

These kind of people disappear from your life when you change environments, right? I mean, if you leave the place of Icky People, you don't see them again, that's why you leave.

But why do they keep showing up again?

Icky People, and how they just never seem to leave my life -- read about it at my post today at Aiming Low, where if you make it to mediocre, it's been a good day.

What To Eat When Stress Strikes

The other day on twitter, I saw this cry for help: Looking for good stress eating ideas. Open to all suggestions. Except pie.

I quickly tweeted back: Anything with whipped cream!

Well, that suggestive bit of twitter triggered (twiggered?) cravings in me that I haven't had since I was last pregnant.

Stress eating, it feels so good, is it that wrong? A chocolate filled croissant warmed just a tad in the microwave? Rich hand whipped cream in a flavored coffee? It's not so bad.

When I'm stressed, I reach for the hot, the melted, the chocolate. Gooey cheesy burgers. Toasted bagels with slathered cream cheese, double loaded mozzarella on pizza, chocolate drizzled over anything.

I wish I could remember the tweeter who had asked for suggestions, because today, mama got some stuff for her:

Stress Eating Favorites: 

Sliced bananas in a bowl mixed with microwave melted Hershey's kisses and mini marshmallows.

Graham cracker S'mores, 23 seconds in the microwave.

Hot cocoa with a 5 second squirt of Reddi-Whip. Chocolate sauce? Don't mind if I do.

McDonald's will mix half and half of any flavor shakes for you. Lately, I'm all into the half Arctic Orange with half Chocolate. Ho my god.

Peeled, sliced apples smothered in melted French Vanilla frosting.

Any kind of cupcake, any number of them. They don't count as cake calories because they're little.

Hot dog sliced down the middle and filled with shredded cheese, then wrapped in bacon and put under the broiler for 4 minutes. Dang.

A dinner plate full of Doritos chips, sprinkled with taco seasoned shredded cheese, diced tomatoes, crumbled turkey meat, microwaved for 1:25, then dolloped --  twice -- with sour cream and guacamole.

Guacamole. Period.

One scoop of chocolate ice cream with maraschino cherries on top. Mmmmm-hmmm.

Frozen Girl Scout Thin Mints.

Boy Scout Cheese Pop Corn.

Instant brownie in a box brownies slathered with raspberry preserves while they're still smoking hot.

Those Hot-Lava-Cake-in-5-microwave-minutes kits. Holy Wow.

Lay's Thick Cut Vinegar and Salt Potato Chips stuck in between the bun and hot sloppy joe meat.

25 crumbled crackers floating on top of a home made bowl of chili, heavy on the tomatoes.

The Martha Stewart Brand New Recipe for Boston Cream Pie cupcakes. Again, due to size, calorieless.

A baked potato, nuked, and stuffed with bacon bits, sour cream, cheddar cheese and a touch of salsa.

A tall glass of Fanta orange soda served over a big fat scoop of creamy vanilla ice cream: JUST like a dreamsicle.

Come on, Miss Stressed Out Eater Tweeter, where are you? ... I'm ready.

 
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