confession #4: I watch infomercials

I love infomercials.
Especially exercise informercials.
For some reason they hook me right in.
It's not so much the sales banter or demonstrations.
It's the before and after shots.
The testimonials and the personal stories.
I've been known to get a little weepy when
people tell how their lives are changed.
I love it.
And then I buy it.
The Total Gym.....be wary of an entire gym
that claims to fit under your bed.
Tae-bo.
The high-velocity-suck-in-your-gut-balance-
on-one-leg-kicks-at-the-speed-of-light
snapped something internally. Tae-no.
After baby #3, a girlfriend and I were chatting
about the war on post-partum blubber.
I took a deep breath and decided to confess my heart's desire.....
"Have you seen the commercial for Turbo Jam?"
Her breathing quickened, her eyes brightened,"
"I've seen it...I want it, too!"
Turbo Jam.
What made me think that I could even remotely turbo anything,
let alone jam?
But this last Christmas I happened upon the best
informercial I had ever seen.
The before and after shots were fantastic.
And I did cry when the families told their stories.
I wanted in on it. So did Scott.
My thighs are not smaller
but I still feel fantastic about my purchase.
We bought a smile. There are more available.





This is Brigid from Kenya, one of the kids touched
by Operation Smile. Check it out.

No chocolate for a tired supergirl

Scott came home late last night.
When I woke up this morning,
I asked him where my chocolate was.
His payment for forgeting to tell me about no carpool on Tuesday
He said there was no chocolate.
Not until I edit my blog.
Scott plays hardball sometimes.
But I want to write my blog and
eat my chocolate too.
I'm going to go search the kids room.
I think there is some left over easter candy there.

just another crazy morning

My husband, went out of town to a conference.
So did his best friend who does carpool on Tuesdays.
But Scott forgot to tell me this.
This I find out at 8:00 this morning when Jack
is supposed to be at school at 8:15
because, of course, today they are testing and
they must not be late.
Have you ever seen a woman try and get herself and
three children dressed, fed and out the door in under
15 minutes?
It's not pretty. Let me re-phrase. I was not pretty.
The bad hair ratio was 3:1.
Jack, who was ready for school, looked fine.
Addison (1) had gelled his own hair with syrup.
Will (3) had gone to bed with damp hair and
looked a bit like Don King.
I, who had not yet showered, managed jeans and a sweatshirt
that had apparently been made for my kindergartener.
I whipped my hair into a ponytail, and headed out the door.
We made it just under the wire before the bell rang,
Will,with sleep encrusted eyes, and Addie with one shoe.
I shamed myself, my children and my husband with my appearance.
Nothing can be done about that.
As for Scott, he already knows not to come home without chocolate.

Confession #3: I'm not down with bugs

I used to play with lightning bugs when I was little.
I have fond memories of time spent with roly polies.
But somewhere in between childhood and adulthood,
bugs and I parted ways.
Especially in the summer of 2003.
Cicadas invaded Virginia as they do every 17 years.
They covered everthing like a black crunchy blanket.
Being blind, they would often fling themselves at your forehead,
irregardless of your mindless screeching.
My mom and I were driving in the car with Jack and Will.
Jack began screaming frantically. (he was only 2)
I looked in the rearview mirror to see a lone cicada
creeping stealthily towards his ear.(red buggy eyed devil)
Madness ensued followed by ear splitting screams. (me and mom)
Immobilized by his carseat, terror widening his blue eyes,
Jack craned his neck as far as he could to the left.
I whipped the car into Ross parking lot. (nascar style)
And ninja mom that I am, (crouching tiger hidden Susanna)
Grabbed the nearest weapon (the diaper bag),
And began flailing,like a mommy windmill, at the cicada. (not affected)
Each time I whipped the bag towards Jack's head,
he would scream. I would scream. Mom would scream.
Will didn't care. (at 5 months, he had snacked on a cicada)
The creature was immovable. (unbelievable)
With one last full body lunge, I dislodged him.
He crawled away quietly. Not too concerned.
I, however, had been out-manuevered
by a bug with vision impairment. (And that hurts a little)
No, I am definitely not down with bugs.

Meet my nemesis...

all things bright and beautiful

My sister, Erica, is another supergirl chasing after her dreams.
My sisters and I love to shop....it is in our DNA.
We love bargains, we love treasures and we love beauty.
We have visited shops far and wide, home decor shops,
garden shops tucked away in sun dappled alcoves,
quaint cottages filled with antiques, early morning flea markets.
It's all about the find.
We enjoy it so much we thought we could do it ourselves.
With Jenny's (supersis #2) connections,
we set up shop at a Christmas boutique.
So much fun buying. So much fun being together. So much fun decorating.
The selling, the taking down, the long arduous hours,
the not as much cash as we hoped...not so much fun.
So we'll not ever ever do it again.
But in the process, Erica, while crafting for the boutique,
discovered something about herself.
She is creative.
She can fashion something beautiful from a word, a letter or a french stamp.
She can take a dream, a vision, a hope
and with a few small pieces of glass and a soldering iron,
form a small work of art that you can wear.
Check out her custom charm site.
It is a thing of beauty.
http://bonboncharms.com/

confession #2: things happen when I talk on the phone

The real problem is that I am not a multitasker.
I can only concentrate on one thing at a time.....
I was talking on the phone this morning to a girlfriend of mine, Rene,
another supergirl trying to keep it real,
Wandering from room to room when the thought occurred to me,
Where is Addison? My one year old...
It is never good when it's quiet.
I rounded the corner of the hallway that houses our laundry area
And there he was...spread eagle...smiling contentedly.
He was splayed like a sweet little starfish on a pile of dirty laundry,
clutching a pair of his dad's underwear,
sucking with great relish on an old yogurt carton he had dug out of the trash.....
I really shouldn't be allowed to talk on the phone.
This is how it tends to go down in my house.
Speaking of dirty laundry, my supercousin Alys, turned me on to Suavitel...
a fabric softener with an unassuming look to it but it smells fantastic....
I've tried blue and yellow, both terrific in every way.
While on vacation, I happened upon green - Fresh Dew - my laundry now smells like small pieces of summer.
When I went to the website to find the link, I found it claims to be-
Soft as a mother's love....
I guess when Addie felt neglected by his chatty mom this morning
and needed a little comfort he did the next best thing -
he snuggled up to some Suavitel.
Thought you might like to check it out.
http://www.colgate.com/app/Suavitel/US/EN/Liquid.cvsp

supergirl underwear says it all

A couple of years ago, my friend, Melissa, gave me a pair of supergirl underwear as a gag gift...she thought it was funny....
I, on the other hand, will never turn down a good pair of panties. Who doesn't love new underwear? So I wore them.
One morning I was changing and Jack, who was 4 at the time, walked in on me.
He looked at me for a second and said,
"Mom, your secret identity has been revealed!"
Jack knew. He knew that I would love to be supergirl.
To be more than...
To be unique...
To be excellent in some way....
Able to leap tall laundry in a single bound....
Able to wipe out the forces of evil and keep my house clean...
Able to become the person God created me to be compared to the person I actually am....
Having the guts to chase down my dreams and pursue my destiny while looking hot in a red, white and blue unitard ....
By the way, who looks good in a unitard anyway? Especially, paired with boots...someone has NOT been watching "what not to wear"
but I digress....
so I am a tired supergirl, not quite there yet but believing someday with God's hand on me, with the love and encouragement of my fellow supergirls and some good chocolate...I will get there.

confession #1 - I really am tired

Since becoming a mom, I always seem to be tired.
There are quite a few reasons I am tired.
I need more sleep.
I need more exercise.
I'm pretty sure I don't get the required amount of calcium needed on a daily basis.
But mostly I think I am tired because I birthed three very large children in the past 6 years.
Before children, people told me (they could have been lying) that I looked young. No one says that anymore. Unless they are 80.
Since the birthing years began, I am almost certain that I am looking my age.
I have a theory that people don't really start looking older until they have little people running circles around them.
I met a new friend at a writer's conference last week. She has beautiful eyes, dewy sun kissed skin with a smattering of freckles, a wide grin and a great laugh. So fun. She is single, with no kids, I thought she was 20. I asked her age, thinking she could of been one of the kids in our old youth group.
She said,"35."
"Get out!" I said.
We laughed. But really I meant it. Really.... just get out of here. Because some things are not fair. And my Youthful Essence by Susan Lucci face regimen has definitely not kicked in yet - I thought maybe it was working but, no, it is not. I'll give Susan a few more weeks to come through, but really, that whole encounter was quite hurtful.
I am young on the inside believe me, but things on the outside are not quite the same.
Just yesterday I was pulling at my neck, for no reason in particular, while looking in the mirror and a small crease of skin seemed reluctant to return to its normal place.
I was shocked. At my neck. Why in the world would my neck skin want to stay pooching out and not want to return to its normal place of rest?
There can only be one reason....
since the children arrived even my skin is tired.