The F-Word C-Word

                                        
           "I'm so sorry. You have Cancer."

Just take a moment and think about that. I don't think any other sentence in the English language has the same impact on the human soul. (Unless, of course, Maury tells you, "You ARE the FATHER..." ?) The wild range of emotions that follows someone telling you that you have cancer, can only be equated to having your life flash before your eyes. Having to feel so many things that you never knew you could... or would. You have to simultaneously face your life as you know it... and how it will be from here on out. Nothing will ever be the same. The fear, the confusion, and the sadness are palpable. The facing of your own possible mortality is devastating. It sends chills up my spine just thinking about it. This horrible, insidious disease has a way of creeping into your life out of nowhere... and just... owning you. If you let it.

Cancer has always had a 'face' in my mind. When I was young and invincible, someone would say, "Cancer" and I would immediately think of an old, sickly person. Someone who was in the last stage of their life, surrounded by those they love, reminiscing and saying their tear-filled good-byes. My Grandfather had cancer when I was a teenager. He became my 'face'. We were in no way ready for him to leave us, but the blow was softened by everyone around us. "He had an amazing life" they would say. "He is heading up to that big party in the sky!" Like it was a good thing. Coming from a very non-religious family... I just ran with that. I didn't really get it, but it helped some. I had accepted it. Who wouldn't want to live a fabulous life, and then go off to party for... ever? What the hell is going on, here!? What they didn't tell us, was how horrible it was leading up to the 'party'. How the treatments almost killed him. How it spreads so rapidly. How he was in so much pain. How he was unconscious and mumbling half the time. We were young, and they just didn't tell us that part. I guess I get it in hindsight, as it's actually scary and awful, and it's their job to shield us from that. Nothing has been the same without my Bampa. I miss sitting on his lap, and having him tell me I'm his favorite. We ALL miss his silly self, cracking jokes, and being the best Grandpa ever. But, he's where he wanted to be now. He's at a party with his buddies... and he's just fine. Cancer got him in the end... but it's ok. Right? Cancer helps old people get to the party.

Then shit got real...

In my early twenties, a dear friend of mine lost her daughter to an awful, albeit short, battle with cancer. It rocked me to my core. Suddenly, cancer's face was a sweet, charming, funny, beautiful, perfect, nine-year-old girl! Hold the fucking phone. What?! There is no party anywhere that needs her! I don't understand. The thought of watching her mom go through that still makes me cry to this day. This isn't supposed to happen!! That's the wrong face!! I had an infant daughter of my own, and it was the biggest reality check of my life. Of course I had heard of children having cancer, but they are young and resilient. They are just supposed to kick it in its ever-changing face! It was one of those things in my life that changed me. I don't deal well with death, and have had way too much of it thrown my way, but this was different. I started giving money to any (and all) organizations that even mentioned that they help with children's cancer research. I donated things to hospitals. I wanted to grab a guitar, round up all the kids fighting for their lives everywhere, and cheerfully sing shit in rounds. But, I don't play the guitar, and that isn't gonna solve the problem. I felt helpless, and confused... but mostly angry. My GOD I hate cancer. Nobody actually 'wants' to go to the party. Fuck the 'party'. Fuck cancer.

I'm older and wiser than I was then. I have watched countless people close to me lose loved ones, young and old, from this awful... thing. The face of cancer is now more like the 'face-morphing phenomenon' in Michael Jackson's "Black Or White" video. It's almost too much to handle. We are all surrounded by cancer. Breast Cancer being the one that has flooded my personal space most aggressively. Personally, this one scares me the most. It used to be less scary. I almost felt exempt. You worried about Breast Cancer with a list of 'Ifs'. IF it is in your family. IF you didn't breast feed your children. IF you didn't have children. IF you used birth control. IF you were overweight, and a hormonal mess. Nowadays... it's more like... IF you have breasts. And that's it. It is no longer a matter of 'if'... it's a matter of 'when'. It terrifies me completely.

In my adult life, I have pretty much always known someone battling Breast Cancer. I have shaved many heads, cried both tears of sorrow and dread, and then relief when it's over. And then more dread tears when it came back. One of my best friends lost her mom to Breast cancer. It was a long, torturous, brutal, painful, emotional roller coaster. Another friend lost her young, vibrant, otherwise healthy sister. Children I know have lost their mothers. Husbands have lost their wives. Sisters have lost their other halves. The women battling this shit have lost their hair, eyelashes, breasts, anything that represents femininity and strength. It robs you. Not only physically, but also mentally. It robs you of being able to be the woman you once were. Nobody feels like a fierce woman... while bald, breastless, bawling and puking their guts out from chemo. It just isn't possible. And I know this first hand, from some very reliable sources. Both of my mothers.

A little over 2 years ago, my Mother In Law was diagnosed with Breast Cancer. It was devastating. I always knew in the back of my mind that she would be ok. I don't know what it was that assured me of that... but she just had to be. And during her battle, I just had to go into 'Mom mode' and be as strong as I could be for my husband and my kids. She has been through so much... this is just going to be a little bump in her road. It's one thing to think those thoughts... but another thing entirely to follow through. The day I shaved her head was when I lost it. How can this be happening to her? To us? She doesn't deserve this, and neither do we! Who fucking decides this!? Who picked her name out of the cancer hat!? I'm gonna thunder-punch them in the throat.. whoever they are. It isn't fair. We love and need her too much. She is just gonna have to cancel plans to go to the party. And she did. Like I knew she would be... she is one of the lucky ones who can call herself a survivor. It wasn't easy. It wasn't pretty. It tore us to pieces watching her go through this. In the end, she has kicked cancer's ass, and even jokes about the fact that after reconstruction of both of her natural breasts that are now gone... she finally has boobs!! :) Breast Cancer's one silver lining. If you can call it that. She's alive, she made it through, she has a story... and a c-cup. Life is good.

Then it was my own mom's turn. About a year ago, we found out my mom had a very aggressive form of Breast Cancer. You would think that JUST going through this with my Mother in Law, I would be a little more prepared for this news. It was the complete opposite. I kid you not when I say that was the hardest thing I have ever had to hear. I completely fell apart. I still remember her voice on the phone when she told me. She was trying so hard to be calm, and make it as easy as she could on me. I could tell she was in shock, and needed me to remain calm for a minute. But, here's the thing... You don't get a minute. It's real, and it's happening. Holy shit. It was like someone hit me with a brick... wall. Not my mom. No. Please, no! I can't do this. She is my person! She is my kids' person! She HATES parties! I'm bawling while I'm typing this. Even a year later, it's so fresh in my head, it's like it was yesterday. I was in no way prepared to do this with her. All of it. Any of it! I wanted to go crawl in a hole until it was over. My mom is the strongest, most opinionated, positive, Pollyanna-pants person I know. But none of that matters at that moment. I, like everyone else who has had this convo with their mom, wanted to just drive to her house and rock her in my arms. Or have her rock me? I don't even know. All I know is this is about to be the longest year of my life... Fucking cancer. Now... How am I gonna tell my kids?

Obviously, I could write a book about how painful and terrifying this last year has been. About how my sister and I held hands at the Pink concert, and ugly cried during "Just Give Me a Reason" About how I tried to picture my life without my mom. About how we tried to laugh our way through wig fittings and doctor appointments. About how chemo is the devil. About how I watched the strongest woman I know, turn into this fragile, tiny woman, who could barely get up the stairs... or breathe. About how none of us will ever be the same. About how much I hate the f-word c-word. But... I won't. She isn't going to change the face of cancer for me. It isn't gonna be her face. She recently had her last treatment, and is finally getting her life back. I don't know how to explain how this makes me feel. To see her now, is like having my old mom back. (Just with much shorter hair) :) She did it. She told cancer to take a hike, and it worked! Her strength and positive attitude through it all astounded me, and, I'm sure, helped her win the fight. She was fortunate that her husband is a doctor, she has health insurance, and she received phenomenal care. I know not everyone is that fortunate. They didn't lose their house from medical debt, and she didn't lose her life. Maybe there is a God!? (Yeah.... this shit does weird things to people. I did just say that.) :) All I know is that this year is going to be better. We are slowly, but surely, getting our mom back, and nothing else really matters to me. The people at the party can just wait. We are busy having our own parties down here... where we belong. :)

I wish I (Or someone doctor-like, maybe) had the cancer answer. I wish I knew why we are all just ticking, cancer time bombs. I wish there was no such thing as cancer. I wish I didn't worry so much about my daughter ending up with Breast Cancer... because, I think that is the hardest part. Watching the people you love the most battle it. It's the people left behind... the people that feel helpless, and can't do anything to fix you, when you have been temporarily broken by cancer. It is hard to accept that cancer is so commonplace in our society. It's just... everywhere. As much as it's easy to just feel like a sitting duck... waiting to have your name pulled from the cancer hat... it's at least comforting to know that it isn't always the end. I guess it's true.. what doesn't kill you makes you stronger... or, whatever else Kanye would say. (WWKWD?!!?) But it doesn't make it any easier. I'm about as strong as I can be right now. I would like the c-word to just leave me alone for a while now. I've had my fill... bug off... beat it... No room at the inn... whatever. :)

This time of year, I love reading everyone's 'I'm thankful for.." posts on facebook. Some annoy me, but most of them are good reminders of what's important. 'Tis the season to be thankful, after all :) So, in the spirit of giving thanks, I just want to reiterate how thankful I am that this year is over, and we can now move on with our lives. I'm thankful for modern medicine, and having a wonderful, supportive Step-Dad. I'm thankful that I get to have BOTH of my moms here on Thursday, and neither of them have a drain, a stitch or a current treatment plan. Neither one let cancer own them. Mostly, I'm thankful that we are getting a reprieve from the f-word c-word right now. In years past, I have dreaded the holidays. The pain in the ass that they have become. This year... I'm looking forward to it all! Hell, I may even embrace the snow! In the scheme of things, and after everything we have been through... maybe it's not so bad :)

Happy Thanksgiving, and make sure you hug your loved ones a bunch. I'm looking forward to doing just that, and will never take it for granted again. The f-word c-word ain't gonna ruin the holidays for this girl! I will not be Black Friday shopping. I will be here, with my family, cherishing every c-word free moment! :) Gobble gobble!

Call Me Crazy... But, Marriage IS For You. Both.

In the past couple of weeks, I've been seeing this same blog post appear and reappear, with all sorts of unexpected reactions attached to it. "It made me cry.", "This gave me chills.", "This is so right on!", etc. Call me crazy... or cynical... or selfish... (Just don't call me fat. That one hits below the belt.)  but I'm just not that into it. Kind of reminds me of the "Twilight" series. (Boy meets girl, both parties give up everything that makes them happy, and it's really dramatic and desperate? Or, maybe it's not like that at all?) I can't figure out what exactly bugs me about it, as much of what he said rang very true. Is it because I'm a woman reading a once selfish man's P.O.V? Is it because I'm selfish and don't realize it? Am I just too much my...self, that I can't dig it? I can't decide. I have decided that there's just one big thing that I can't wrap my head around. And that is... the whole premise of it.

Don't get me wrong, I love the idea of what he wrote. A year and a half into marriage, we all go through those same emotions. You are still figuring it out. You have all sorts of dreams and expectations when you say, "I do", and when those expectations don't come to fruition, and the honeymoon is over,  it's frustrating. I totally get that. I'm happy he has had an epiphany, and found his voice in his marriage. It's great that he is able to use that to fix what isn't working for him. Because, in using that voice, it is about him. And, in my opinion, there is nothing wrong with that.

I have been in a pretty successful marriage for almost 12 years now. I, like him, married my best friend. The person that completed me. The person I wanted to have babies with. The person who makes my life better... every single day. We do that for each other, but don't think for one minute, I didn't marry him for what he does for me. How he makes me feel. I didn't need him. I wanted him. There is a difference. I wanted him in my life, because he made it better... for me. :)

I was young-ish for today's standards when I got married. I was only a mere 25. We were  already  parents to a beautiful, healthy babygirl, we already owned our first home, we both had great careers, and a very supportive support system. Fully self-sufficient, and ready to start our next journey. Things were good! I had life by the balls, and was excited to wear my pretty dress, stand up with all my favorite girls by my side, and say, "I do" to my favorite guy! What could be more wonderful!?! My very wise Grandmother had given me some sage advice a few years prior to my big day. I was at the tail end of a very long, tumultuous relationship with my high school boyfriend. She, like the Father of the guy who write that blog, said to me, "If you can wake up every morning with that person, and think 'What can I do to make his life better today?', then you know you are with the right person." I was 100 percent sure I felt that way about my husband, and never had a moment of second guessing if he felt the same way about me. I had learned my lesson about being with a selfish partner. It needs to be about me, as much as/if not more than, it is about you. And I'm not sorry for that. Nope. Not even a little bit. :) It just goes to show, you hear what you are looking to hear. No matter who said it, or what it was. And we all are different people. In the end... we take what we want to get out of something, and run with it. And that's what is awesome. YOLO. :)

The first few years of our marriage were rocky, at best, many times. We had 'life' handed to us, as well as our asses, over and over. It was a time of learning, there's no doubt about that. We learned how each other deals with tragedy, stress, and loss. We learned when the other one's needs needed to be put ahead of our own. We learned that even though we were now 'married', we were still the same people we always had been, and we need to accept and appreciate that. We learned PMS should stand for "Putting up with My Shit". We learned to put each others' idiosyncrasies aside, and pick our battles. His nude feet, incessantly making figure-eights on the brand new rug, isn't cause for a war. Just pick up your socks. NEVER say the 'D' word. Ever. For any reason. We learned that in most cases, (Appropriate or not) laughter IS the best medicine. We learned that I don't clean the litter box, and he doesn't dust. We learned how the other one parents. We learned to compromise. We learned to be partners. Sometimes this marriage is all about you, sometimes it is about me. Saying "Marriage isn't for you" as a general statement, is the equivalent of saying, "Even though I despise meatloaf, we will eat it every night, because, my love, it is your favorite." Or... something like that. It just doesn't seem to be 'right' to me. I happen to like chicken. So... we will get used to chicken loaf. (Or, not get used to chicken loaf? As even the word 'loaf' makes me throw up a little bit in my own mouth.) :)

I am now 37, and have gotten to 'that' age. So many of marriages that we have known and loved over the years, have taken a turn for the worse. I have watched countless friends and fellow married people, focus too much on what to do for the other person, and change themselves completely to conform to the other one's expectations. I have seen that fail, and watched the people I love turn into these distraught souls, that can't figure out how to be a little selfish, or put themselves first. You only get one life. To spend it mainly trying to better someone else's... it just is a recipe for disaster. And counseling. I know women by nature are care-takers, most of us wanting nothing more than to be a good wife, friend, mom and person in general. I think we need to be careful when talking to our daughters about marriage. I know I, for one, will tell my daughter to never lose her self. The part of her that makes her... her. That is important to me, and I feel like I have set a good example for her in that way. Most of her Dad's and my first 'fights' were about me... trying to stay... me. (With a splash of the grown-up version of me. It had to happen eventually...) It wasn't easy, and is still a struggle. Like I said earlier, everyone is an individual, and requires something different from a marriage. (Can I use YOLO again here?!) Let's be honest... picking the most suitable partner for yourself is more than half the battle. It doesn't always happen. Not every marriage is built to last, and staying true to yourself can save you a lot of heart and headache when it's time to move on. As a child of divorced parents, and someone who has watched this happen to those I love... I take it even more seriously than most. If I make my whole existence about you... where does that leave me? (And this is where I lose all selflessness. #sorry/notsorry.) You can't protect yourself from life, or the shit-storms it throws your way, but you can be more prepared to deal with said shit-storms, if you have remained your true self. Sometimes it's all about me. And that has to be ok with you. :)

Obvi, no marriage is perfect. Every marriage has ups and downs. It's the name of the game. You are constantly growing and changing... and learning. It's more about figuring out what works for both of you. I have learned so much not only watching the demise of marriages I loved and respected, but from those that have remained strong through all the bullshit. There seems to be a common theme among those that withstand the storms. Mutual respect for the other person, unconditional love, and acceptance that every individual needs to grow and learn at their own pace. At the end of the day, marriage is about two people, and you need to be careful when saying "Marriage isn't for you". Because, without 'u'... there can be no 'us'. :) I, for one, may start a petition to change the word 'marriage'... to 'ME-arraige.' :) (I kid... sort of)

My husband and I renewed our vows on our 10 year anniversary. We wrote our own, sappy vows, and it was a wonderful way to reaffirm the fact that we are totally, 100 percent here for each other. I overheard him saying to a few of his buddies that night, (Who were giving him shit for letting me throw a 'second wedding') "Happy wife, happy life!" And that, my friends, is what got him laid that night. (And 3 weeks of free figure-eighting with his nude feet... on my rug. I DO love him and stuff) He definitely has learned how to put the 'u' in us... and the other stuff where it belongs. :) And I have learned when he has earned a little something for himself. :) For that, I'm forever grateful and lucky. Marriage is totally for me... and him. It's a win-win.

I guess I will file that blog I read into the same category as the "Twilight" series. I will never totally agree with the premise of either of them. Not to say it doesn't work to take some of what was said, and fully accept that it's not, nor will it ever be, all about me. I have been humbled and put in my place on many occasions. It's all part of the process :) As I mentioned, I'm very happy that guy has figured out to put his wife and her feelings first sometimes. Hopefully that was what needed to happen for them, and she does the same for him... and they live a long, happy life together! But, for now, I'm completely content in knowing that my marriage is for me, and at no time in my life, will I ever let my husband turn me into a Vampire :) (Although, the nakie-foot, figure-eights would be amazing at Vamp speed... hmm...) :)

P.s... I am now accepting recipes for a chicken loaf? I guess it has been a long time coming, and now I'm feeling guilty. Loaf is definitely NOT for me. :)

Willow Is Having A Better Summer Than You Are... Just Admit You Are Jealous :)

As the mother of an almost 12 year old girl, I've spent the last 2 days, (In between bouts of Candy Crushing like a crazed lunatic) gathering my thoughts about my feelings towards this song/video:

                                  Willow Smith- "Summer Fling"

 I love me some Smith kids like everybody else does. I named my first born Jadan. I hate to admit it, but that is where I got the name... From their first born. (Is that weird? Now that I just admitted that... I'm also torn on that) :) I just am really having a hard time understanding the uproar about this particular video. I sort of miss the hair whipping of yesteryear. It was all so simple and innocent. We all just knew we loved it :) (And quote it repeatedly. To this day. Enough already.) :)

I've been hearing all the backlash involved with Willow's new song. I have to say, I just don't get it. Who really cares if twelve year old girls like a boy over the Summer? I honestly couldn't give a shit. News flash... It's NORMAL. I have watched the video several times, looking for signs of heavy petting or dry humping... and, alas, there are none. It's just a song about being a preteen/teenage girl in the summer, and liking a boy for a few months. Is this honestly hot news? I can't say it is.

I'm surrounded by 12 and 13 year old girls regularly. They all giggle and laugh about boys, and who is dating whom. It's adorable, and completely expected. I recall being that age. It was when boys finally got rid of their cooties! I would prance around my house telling my parents I was 'Going with' whichever boy had my interest at the time. They would laugh, and ask me (Just to piss me off, of course) "Where do you plan on 'going', Salina?" To which I would respond, "Oh my gaaawwwdddaaahhh... Daaadddaaaahhh... Nooooahhhh! Stop iiitaaaahhh!" And then run to my room and slam my door. (That was the beginning of my no-door-on-the-hinges faze... I never learned my lesson. For real, I still slam doors. It's like punctuation. It is. And you only understand that if you have Estrogen. Estrogen makes you do it.)

In fact, my daughter was 'dating' someone, for pretty much the entire last half of the school year. When she first asked me if she could... 'date'... this boy, I had to think about it. For a hot second. I mean, it's not like he is gonna pick her up in his Dad's car, and take her somewhere for an actual date and second base! It just means she gets to have her first experience dealing with boys that aren't her brother or cousin. They texted a bunch, changed their Instagram status to 'Taken', avoided each other at the local carnival, ate lunch together at school, never saw each other.... and he carried her crap to her bus for her when she was on crutches. Super sleezy, right? :) They recently broke up, and that was a good lesson for her as well. She learned that she is more into dance and her friends, than any boy... no matter how darling he is :) And she listens to pop music. Including Rhianna... who is always crackin' windows, and singing about the smell of her relations. (Personally, I think that girl needs to see a doctor... but who am I to judge) :) Regardless of what songs my kid is listening to, she has had her first experience with puppy love... and nobody coerced her to do it. Not even Rhianna. :) She is just at that age where she wants to test the boy waters. I'm okay with that. For now. :)

I'm not saying anyone has to agree with me. I realize that until you actually have a preteen daughter, you think you have everything all mapped out. I am that mom. I map out everything! It never fails to backfire, however. I have adopted more of a "Roll with the punches" map these days. It's always a surprise how off my planned course I am. :)

Sorry... back to Willow... (See! My maps are always all over the place! Aren't you glad you aren't my kid?!) :)

Our society and media are always so quick to drum up judgmental drama surrounding everything. Even simple things, like an innocent song- I get that. But, I can guarantee you that any preteen/teen girl with a solid view of herself, wouldn't take "Summer Fling" as an excuse to go get knocked up,  shave the sides of her head... and have Raggedy Ann style... blonde hair? (That part alarms me more than the rest of it. Can someone fire her stylist!? I'm so old... I don't want to start replicating that look on anyone... holy shit.) :) I mean, Kriss Kross had a whole slew of 12 year old boys thinking they were 'miggidy, miggidy, miggidy mac daddies'... and fortunately, we all lived. :) When I was growing up, Madonna was the target of blame. "Like A Virgin" became the anthem of every belligerent, hormonal girl, who was trying to piss off her parents. We all made it out unscathed from Madonna's inappropriate grasp, as well! Surprisingly, Madonna actually gave me the best advice about raising a daughter, that anyone ever has! On an Oprah episode, Oprah asked her what she would teach her daughter about men. Madonna replied with, "If I teach her self-respect, I won't need to teach her anything about men." A-frickenmen! Changed my life. She is right. No song or movie, or teen idol should be able to sway your kid into bad behavior. As parents, we need to start at home, and quit looking for scapegoats to blame our daughters' shit on. For now, I can sleep well, knowing my kid has a dad who is her b/f/f, a supportive family, great morals and values, wonderful self esteem, and a hovering mother. Go ahead, Willow... sing about whatever you want. We're covered. :) (Until my unruly map fails again... we'll see.)

*Disclaimer- Don't get me wrong, I'm not making light of teenagers 'doing it'. I see pregnant little girls all the time. It breaks my heart in half, and makes me really appreciate my upbringing. It's tragic, and I wish there was something I could personally do about it. My point is just that I'm pretty sure that didn't happen because of a song. I could be wrong... wouldn't be the first time, but I just can't seem to think that is the case. We sensor what we can as parents, but it's just never enough. Music is a huge part of our lives, and some of that is just out of my control. If my daughter or son make me a Grandma before I'm 40... I'll probably just blame the other kid. True story. :)

So, in closing, I guess I would just like to give a big, fat Kudos to the Smith family. Once again, they have taken a mediocre song, with very little musical appeal, and made it an internet/media sensation that we will never forget! I think this was a detour on their map... that was planned long in advance. Well played. :)

I'm Onto You, Pinterest...

Once upon a time, (You know... about a year ago) I loved to entertain. I would find any reason to break out my fanciest dishes, platters, decorations and recipes... and gather everyone at my home, for any celebration possible. I'm (was) the girl who can whip up a shower or birthday party overnight. I have obnoxious collections in boxes, cupboards, and drawers... full of the necessary items to do so. It makes me happy to do it, and I get a sense of "I've got it handled" that gives me some sort of creepy pleasure, and makes me feel important. I have gone completely overboard with elaborate games, themes, gifts, etc. I never had an issue coming up with a neat, little idea to make the 'event' its own. I've had frantic phone calls from hosts of such events, the night before, needing my help. I, of course, smile sweetly through the phone and say, "Don't worry. I've got it handled". I show up with everything they forgot, or didn't have in the first place, and I get to feel like I saved the day. Hell, I even toyed with the idea of going into party planning. My holiday decorations were over the top, my tables were beautiful and creative, my food was well thought out, with surprises and shit. I, and everyone else, were always impressed with my efforts and outcome. I was Miss Dependable. All was right in my world. Then Pinterest happened...

Now, I'm not saying Pinterest is a bad thing. It's full of all sorts of awesomeness. In fact, I wrote a whole blog post about how much I love it. When I first joined, it was mostly recipes, outfits, shoes, braids, and exercise biz. I could log into that website... without stroking out. It was manageable. I could scroll through the pins of like... 8 people... and pin a few things that sounded scrumptious, or looked like might be fun. There were a few things that made me go, "Holy shit!! How did they DO that?!", but most of it was pretty run of the mill. I even revved up a few recipes, and made them 'better'. I got a few ideas for nights when I was having a dinner brain-fart, and that was that. Oh-em-GEEE.... has that changed.

After attending a few gatherings, and hearing other people say "Oh, it was nothing!", I thought I'd round up a few new ideas for my own repertoire. With Easter fast approaching, I decided to log into Pinterest to see what cute, little things people were showcasing. What can I bring to my Sister's house, that will get a few "Wows", and allow me say, "Oh, it was nothing!" a few times? I had a moment of panic. And a possible seizure? C'mon... What the hell IS all of this!?! Who has the effing time or energy to tackle all of this nonsense!? I used to know what I was doing with my life. Suddenly... I'm making hard-boiled eggs wrong. My toenails aren't fancy enough. My outfit is all wrong. My favorite dip, is now in the shape of a dinosaur. I'm cleaning all wrong. I buy soap... WHAT?! I found out what kind of baby I was having, in peace... without an extravagant celebration. I gave birth without a journalist and Videographer present. My kids had their pictures taken at Proex. My vases aren't homemade, neither is my shower curtain. People eat/decorate with Peeps. (I guess they are not just for ants anymore?) I don't do rounds of 64 sit-ups, followed by arm curls in a new design, and push-ups upside down, with my leg wrapped around my abdomen. My serving dishes don't hang from the ceiling, on homemade ropes or chains, or spin in figure-eights.... And my fucking head hurts. So long, Miss Dependable. Your shit sucks. It's time to step up your game. :)

After I pinned a bunch of stuff, (Just in case the masses are right, and I can wash my hair with table scraps) I logged out and went to a weird place. What is to become of my neat, little stuff? There is no way anyone would ever ask for my help again. Are they laughing behind my back? "Haha. Who needs that broad anymore?! If we want a ten-tier doughnut, edible flower and bacon cake... Pinterest will tell me how to do it myself. Did you see her decorations? I think some were from PARTY CITY!?!?" I will surely just be a guest from now on. I'm not actually needed anymore.

I feel like not only simple things, like showers/parties, have turned into three-ring-circuses... so have holidays. The mother of them all, being Christmas. Everybody knows... Christmas is the shit. You collect things your whole life, and display family heirlooms next to new items with pride. The more lights the better, and they are up in November. Your tree is the bomb, and Christmas dinner is something to behold. Could we not just leave it at that?!!? With the recent addition of the all important half-birthdays... we now have one special occasion... like, every flippin' month! 

Valentines Day used to be considered a "Hallmark" holiday. You buy cards... and maybe little tokens of affection for crushes, boyfriends, girlfriends, husbands or wives. If you were in school, you would sign your name on 25 pieces of cheap cardboard, (Whichever design your Mom picked out at Walgreens) and give your classmates a Pixie Stick, along with their 'card', in their designated shoebox. Nowadays... the more over the top you go... the better. My kids came home with bags full of candy, toys and trinkets this year. No doubt, developed for Pinterest, by some mom who has time for an Elf On The Shelf. Happy Valentine's Day, 'I got all the time in the world lady'. Cupid called... he was wondering if you'd get a job? Or a hobby that doesn't involve my kids feeling ashamed by their measly package of M&Ms they brought? Ain't nobody got time for this... at all.

 Thanksgiving is another one. Yes, gathering with family and friends, and giving thanks to whatever you are thankful for is great. It is one of the 'bigger' holidays already. The food is good, and abundant. Families have their traditions in place, and everyone eats till they puke/nap, and it's a sort of 'kick-off' to the holiday season. It's the holiday (Family warm-up) where you reconnect with family members  you haven't seen since Christmas, and the reason you remember why you haven't. Well, not anymore. Now... it's the holiday that messes with every ounce of pre-holiday sanity you possess. According to Pinners, there are about 392 ways to cook a turkey. You better pick the right one, to avoid being the laughing stock of your entire family. Your stuffing needs about 15 new ingredients to be up to Pinterest standards, and sweet potatoes (Covered with Easter's stale Peeps...) are a thing of the past. You must now only use Yams. Don't get me started on the vegetables. Gone are the days of steamed... anything. You can't even have regular pumpkin pie with Cool-Whip anymore, without hanging your head in shame. You must have a homemade pie... with secret, expensive, elusive ingredients, in the shape of a cornucopia... filled with... various mini-pies? HELP!!!The whole thing is ridiculous. Can't I just eat some crap and get drunk so I can enjoy conversation with people I avoid most of the year?! Sheesh!

My 4th of July cake... decorated with berries, to look like a flag... is now not as cool as it once was. And, my Memorial Day stuff... well... we haven't done that yet. We just are happy to have a day off. Same goes for Labor Day, President's Day, MLK Day, and all the rest of them that only require theme parties if you are regularly on Pinterest.

Easter has always made me feel a little weird celebrating in extreme ways, being that we are not a religious family. We are the family who make it about family.... and the Bunny. I always though it was a tad out of hand that folks even made the bunny tracks out of flour, to trick their kids into thinking an actual giant bunny left them... while hiding baskets and candy... while they slept. ? Ok... So, the Tooth Fairy and Santa aren't stressful enough to pull off... let's add Giant Bunny? I have never been a fan. I just want to hide some eggs in the yard, dress up my kids, eat some food that I shouldn't... and drink some wine. And that is what I'll do... after I hide a bunch of fricken candy around my house, buy a bunch of itunes cards, make a Pinterest 'Peep cake'... and find some suitable, Pinterst approved, food to bring. :) There are some things I still must do for my kids... and for tradition's sake. Baskets being one of them. I didn't do it last year, and the disappointed faces still haunt me in the night. I don't want to take ALL the fun out of it, because I'm pouting about my lack of creativity compared to other over-achieving, 'look what I came up with' moms. :) Some things are just fun to do, no matter how fancy or extravagant they are. I'll tell you what, though... the first time someone makes me feel guilty that I don't have a naughty, Marshmallow Peep On Afuckingshelf... Bribing my kids into behaving... and switching out all the light bulbs with chocolate in the night... I will thunder-punch them in the neck. I refuse to participate in that. (For now) :)

Even if Simple things... like Holidays, redecorating your house, gardening, having babies, and cleaning... have been made into 'grandiose marvels' by things like Pinterest... I guess it doesn't mean that I have to throw in the towel. I can continue to throw parties, events and such.. and maybe even take a few pointers from a website. I'm still not going to go hog-wild, with time consuming additions to what I already do... but, hey, new ideas are sometimes fun! Right?! I guess everything is changing... and I better get used to it. It's no surprise, and not totally Pinterest's fault. Everything is bigger and more grandiose than it used to be... everywhere in the world :) I wonder what everyone will think of my new and improved deviled eggs on Sunday?!!? And my hand-crafted, chocolate dipped... other stuff that I haven't figured out yet :)

So, after all of this ranting and raving about how much I hate everything holiday and Pinterest related, I'm gonna go call some of my friends... see if they know of a cheap, architectural, baking class we could take... so I can come up with some sort of impressive, fourteen-tier, wine and Chuck Norris infused cake... just in time for Girls Weekend. My favorite 'holiday' of them all. :) Take THAT, Pinterest! Wait... can I get a trademark on that?! I better hurry... I think I saw a 6-tier one on there already... :)

Cheers! And Hoppy Easter! (I saw that whole 'Hoppy Easter' thing on Pinterest... so...) :)

How Sweet Of You To Say That... Sort Of.

Ahhh... kids. They have this way of throwing you a back-handed compliment, yet melting your heart... all at the same time. It's like a passive-aggressive talent they all acquire at birth. I've had more than my fair share of that lately, with at least one kid being home sick consistently... on rotation... with the Bubonic Plague, since BEFORE CHRISTMAS! After some reflection this afternoon, I'd like to share a few of my favorites:

"Mom... Your new bikini top is really cute! Am I gonna have big, huge boobs like that, too? Or... is it just something you have?"

"Mom, thanks for these eggs. They are really good. Has Dad ever shown you how he makes them? His are reeeaallly good!"

"Wow, Mom. The phone rings all day long. You have a lot of friends. Is that why I never have clean socks?"

"I like that you are a young Mom. I bet everyone was mad at you when you had me so young!" (Mmmkay... for the record... I was 24. Clearly old enough to breed. So...)

"Mom, you are so nice to us when we are sick. We get to play video games, eat ice cream for breakfast, and not take a shower for lots of days." (I mean... it's cold outside, and ice cream does have some beneficial nutrients... and peanut butter... or something. Don't judge until you have to sit by them... they reek.)

The best one came at about 2:30 this afternoon. My Son and I were watching the show "The Doctors". (Or, it was on in the background... I was doing dishes and talking on the phone. I am not good at enforcing showers... or cooking... but I can multitask like a mother effer with my phone and cleaning duties. Its a gift...) They were talking about how if you pinch the skin on your elbow really hard, (I believe it's called your Weenis! My God that makes me laugh! It's obscene/embarrassing how funny I find that, actually. What am I? SEVEN!?) Ok... so... my kid came into the kitchen with a shocked look on his face, yelling about how, "It's true, Mom! I'm pinching this and I can't feel it!" I noticed he was pinching his weenis really hard, and said "Yeah, buddy! I already knew that!" (The whole time trying not to yell out WEENIS PINCHER!) He kinda scowled/snickered and said, "Huh.... how do you even know that? It's not like you went to college." (Oh, snap. I can handle the other bitch slaps lately... but that one is a digger... you get eggs for lunch AND dinner today.) I let it go, like a patient Mother who has completely had it with her children, and slowly started rinsing dishes again. I actually thought to myself, "Well... you're the one who pinches his own weenis and gets all excited about it" But I kept that to myself. What's the point? He's going back to school tomorrow... And I'm gonna get on line and find a college to attend. Out of spite. It's been a minute since I went to a frat party, anyway... might be fun :)

I think he realized I was pissed. He came back into the kitchen and wrapped his arms around me. (I'm surprised I didn't get a, "Mom... there's so much of you for me to love, I can barely get my arms around you!" But he refrained) He said, "You know what's funny, Mom? You are the smartest person I know... and you didn't go to college. How is that?" Ahhh.... redemption. He gets to live another day.

Now that I liked him again, I went on to explain how Moms and Dads can be extremely intelligent, and never set foot on a college campus, whatsoever. (That statement can be a slippery slope, when I've been drilling into him since birth that he WILL attend college. I'll deal with that later.) I told him that I have lived a pretty interesting life, I have learned a lot along the way, and I also went to Cosmetology school. I stopped myself before I got into the whole "You can learn so much more about life... while living your life..." stuff. I didn't really want to get into it with him,  and actually got offended (again) when he told me that Cosmetology school is not college. At this point it's Mom-0 Skylar-3. I'm just... not gonna get mad. He's 9. He doesn't even know yet, how bad it really DOES hurt when you pinch your own 'weenis' really hard.

I thought about why that made me so upset, and I think it's a pretty simple thing. I have spent so much time in my life trying to prove that I have a brain under all that blonde hair, I was not expecting to ever have to do that with my own kid. He should just know that I think I am bright. That I was a math tutor, and a straight A student until Junior year of High School. (You know... boobs, boyfriend, parents' divorce... I've already covered all that) He has seen me clear the whole board on Jeopardy, correct people's grammar, solve my own Rubix cube, make sense of mysterious homework, organize and run a household, run my own business, and retain way too many unneeded facts that mean absolutely nothing in the scheme of life. A lot of things that an uneducated, dumb ass couldn't very well do. (Well... I guess I think I'm pretty awesome?) :) He should know all of that... right? I mean, he did say "You are way smarter than Dad, and he went to college..." and he loves me. I'm his Mom. He isn't all of those other people who judged me by my appearance, and wrote me off as a blonde idiot.

Why does that bug me so much? I don't care what people think of me in most other arenas of my life. So what if you don't find me attractive? I could not care less. You can judge the extra 30 lbs I carry around, my mom-like attire, my lack of heat control on relatively cool days, and my sweat stache. You can scoff at my need to go out and rip it up from time to time, my need for control, or my new beard. But, you insult my intelligence and I go bonkers. So odd...yet, so easy to understand. I can't begin  to tell you the amount of times I have heard the words "Wow... I never would have pegged you as a smarty pants" Or, "Huh... You really DO know what you are talking about." My own Husband being one of those people. (You'd think we met at a frat party or something...) I have never understood that, but it just has always been the case. The shock on people's faces when I say something witty is priceless. You should see what happens when I shout out correct trivia answers at a bar. (In between sets with the band... Morgan?) People get all confused... :)

It has been a long few months over here, and I'm probably just being really sensitive, and at the end of my rope with all the illness. I'm an old lady now, and other people's first impressions of me aren't what they used to be. (Many of them taking place at Frat parties didn't help much...) :) It's funny what you carry through life to be sensitive about. It's not the end of the world that I didn't go to a college, for anything but parties. I can be a functioning part of society without a Bachelor's in Science... or... Art? Or a PHD in... anything. It doesn't mean I'm a lesser person, or have anything to prove. I can foil the hell outta someone's hair, and talk to anyone for long lengths of time, even if they bug the shit out of me, and I hate their... everything.  THAT in itself, deserves a PHD, if you ask me. :) 

I guess my take-away from this long, drawn out explanation of my intelligence and lack of collegiate education is... Don't assume people aren't something... just because they didn't go to college? No, that can't be it. How about, Be careful with back-handed compliments. You never know what they are going to drum up? Nope... not that either. I'm coming to the conclusion that there isn't a take-away from this. I just need to be less sensi when dealing with my 9-year-old. He is, in fact, a pretty smart dude. Eventually he will learn how to just not say things that will set me off. His Sister will most likely just get worse with the insults and back-handedness. Being passive-aggressive, and... well... a bitch... comes along with going through puberty as a girl. I know about that already, and am fully prepared to not like her for a while. :) There is also... Everyone is getting flu shots next year, and home schooling will never happen in this house. OH... and Dad's eggs are ALWAYS overcooked... so don't let kids be the judge of good cooking. :) If you need me, I'll be just be here... reading the encyclopedia. Getting educated. Not proving anything... just studying. I'll catch you at trivia next week. :)