Okay, I hadn't planned on this blog being entirely one big rant, but I have to rant about this.
Pinterest.
This site is the devil, for two reasons. The first big one is that I have become one of the many who have become addicted to this site. I swear, if I make every recipe I've copied from there I'm going to weigh about 500 pounds. And that will not be pretty. But the stuff I've found on there just looks sooo irresistible that I'm going to have to try most of it.
Which brings me to my next point about this unbelievably addictive site. You caught the part about me copying the recipes, right? Well, that's because you have to be invited to the website to be able to pin anything. Seriously? I mean, it's a brilliant marketing plan, but tends to piss people like me off. Instead of just pinning things to my boards I am left clicking, then clicking again, then copying, then pasting to a word doc, then saving. It's a big pain in my ass. And, it's filling up my second rate lap top with a lot of crap. Not to mention, that while I was at work today, I found an amazing looking recipe for chocolate chip cookies. Now, I can't find the damn thing.
So, to the invite Gods at Pinterest, I beg. I beg of you to please accept my invitation and save my sanity (and the memory on my hard drive). Because, really, my friends are of the non-cyber variety, so getting an invitation that way just isn't going to work.
I know, I know. Put the recipes on your thumb drive! To be honest with you, I just thought of that. I'll have to try that tomorrow. For now, I've got to go cook something. The kids need to eat after all.
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
Family Fun?
Two posts in one day... Holy S**T!
For some reason the following popped into my brain today and I had to share. Because not only is it one small moment of realizing I am far from being a perfect mom, I get another reminder... every...single...month.
I'm talking about FamilyFun magazine. Why do I torture myself?
A little back story... Back when my daughter was in kindergarten, the parents used to have to wait for their kids on the sidewalk for when class let out. Most moms (like me) would rush to get there super early, not because we were anxious to reunite with our darling children, but to get the best parking spot. You know, the spot that you can just drive right out of without having to back up and risk hitting one of the little tots because you can't see over the back of your SUV. The spot that runs no risk of someone blocking you in. The. Perfect. Parking. Spot.
Anyway, so a couple weeks before Halloween I'm standing on the sidewalk waiting with the other moms who are all talking about what their little angels are going to be for Halloween-and simultaneously making me feel like crap because I don't have the creativity to come up with half the shit their spouting off. One mother mentions how this entire family she knows all dressed up like wrapped Christmas presents and submitted the pic to FamilyFun. Stupid me, I have to ask, "What's FamilyFun?"
Cue the collective gasp.
"You don't know what FamilyFun is?"
They proceeded to tell me and after my daughter was safely home with Dad, I ran back out to the drugstore to pick up a copy of this apparent Holy Grail of parent's magazines. Needless to say, it didn't make me feel any better about my creative abilities. And, I gotta say, some of their costume ideas were cute that year. Thankfully, that year, my daughter decided that a hand-me-down medieval princess costume from her older cousin would be great. However, I was still at a loss for my son. FamilyFun to the rescue. They had a pretty cute robot costume. It was way over my head and required more supplies than I cared to buy so I did the best I could. Let me be clear about my crafting abilities. I have great ideas in my head but, as always, the execution is a little off.
I found an old box, cut some arm holes, a hole for his head and covered that bitch in tin-foil. Instant robot. Then my husband came home and thought it would be cool to punch holes in it and get lights that blink. Surely they must sell battery operated Christmas lights? Um, no. We compromised. He punched the holes and when it was time to go out trick or treating I taped some glow sticks on the inside so they would show through the holes. Instant lights, no batteries required.
Personally, my non-creative psyche thought it kicked ass.
And so began my love-hate relationship with that pesky publication. I bought a subscription. Over the years, I've renewed it here and there because sometimes there are some really cute ideas in there. The kids have filled my parent's house with homemade gifts that tug at their grandparent's heartstrings. Of course, they don't look as good as the ones that the professional crafter makes to be photographed for the mag, but hey... it's the thought that counts.
And yet, I haven't even flipped through the February issue I just got. I cringe at the thought of all those Valentine's Day crafts.
Until next time...
For some reason the following popped into my brain today and I had to share. Because not only is it one small moment of realizing I am far from being a perfect mom, I get another reminder... every...single...month.
I'm talking about FamilyFun magazine. Why do I torture myself?
A little back story... Back when my daughter was in kindergarten, the parents used to have to wait for their kids on the sidewalk for when class let out. Most moms (like me) would rush to get there super early, not because we were anxious to reunite with our darling children, but to get the best parking spot. You know, the spot that you can just drive right out of without having to back up and risk hitting one of the little tots because you can't see over the back of your SUV. The spot that runs no risk of someone blocking you in. The. Perfect. Parking. Spot.
Anyway, so a couple weeks before Halloween I'm standing on the sidewalk waiting with the other moms who are all talking about what their little angels are going to be for Halloween-and simultaneously making me feel like crap because I don't have the creativity to come up with half the shit their spouting off. One mother mentions how this entire family she knows all dressed up like wrapped Christmas presents and submitted the pic to FamilyFun. Stupid me, I have to ask, "What's FamilyFun?"
Cue the collective gasp.
"You don't know what FamilyFun is?"
They proceeded to tell me and after my daughter was safely home with Dad, I ran back out to the drugstore to pick up a copy of this apparent Holy Grail of parent's magazines. Needless to say, it didn't make me feel any better about my creative abilities. And, I gotta say, some of their costume ideas were cute that year. Thankfully, that year, my daughter decided that a hand-me-down medieval princess costume from her older cousin would be great. However, I was still at a loss for my son. FamilyFun to the rescue. They had a pretty cute robot costume. It was way over my head and required more supplies than I cared to buy so I did the best I could. Let me be clear about my crafting abilities. I have great ideas in my head but, as always, the execution is a little off.
I found an old box, cut some arm holes, a hole for his head and covered that bitch in tin-foil. Instant robot. Then my husband came home and thought it would be cool to punch holes in it and get lights that blink. Surely they must sell battery operated Christmas lights? Um, no. We compromised. He punched the holes and when it was time to go out trick or treating I taped some glow sticks on the inside so they would show through the holes. Instant lights, no batteries required.
Personally, my non-creative psyche thought it kicked ass.
And so began my love-hate relationship with that pesky publication. I bought a subscription. Over the years, I've renewed it here and there because sometimes there are some really cute ideas in there. The kids have filled my parent's house with homemade gifts that tug at their grandparent's heartstrings. Of course, they don't look as good as the ones that the professional crafter makes to be photographed for the mag, but hey... it's the thought that counts.
And yet, I haven't even flipped through the February issue I just got. I cringe at the thought of all those Valentine's Day crafts.
Until next time...
Just a few things
Over the past few days, I've struggled with what to write, and opted not to write anything. Until now. I've come up with a few topics that I think need to be covered. Today's disclaimer- this blog is not meant to incite political debate. It is just drabble about my own observations.
First off... The Bruins Go To The White House
Being a "NorthernGirl" from the eastern part of the United States it's almost a given that when it comes to sports I would be a fan of all things New England. The Boston Bruins are no exception. I can't tell you how thrilled I was when they won the Stanley Cup. Such an amazing experience for a great bunch of guys. Which brings me to yesterday's visit to the White House and Tim Thomas' absence.
Tim, you are my hero.
I am not a fan of our current president, but no matter which way you slice it, it's an honor to visit the White House in any capacity other than the public tour. Unfortunately, it seemed quite obvious that our current commander in chief knows very little about hockey. But for Tim to stay out of it to make a statement regarding his beliefs is amazing. Tim Thomas is a great guy and it's nice to see a sports figure standing up for what he believes in. You go Tim! Oh, and kick some Capital butt tonight! I'll be watching :)
Which brings me to my second topic... The State of the Union Address.
I will not be watching. Any of it. The state of the union address is basically the president's one time a year to stand up in front of everyone and brag about what they think they've done and what they think they are going to do. And until I see results in my middle class life... not interested. Besides, Obama, for whatever faults he has, is really a great public speaker. It was a lot more fun when GW was president. Hubby and I actually watched one of his addresses and played "State of the Union Drinking Game." Every time GW messed up the pronunciation of a word or said "nucular"...DRINK!
Hubby had a pretty good buzz by the end.
And speaking of being a fan of all things New England... how about those Patriots? Can you believe Cundiff missed that kick? Too bad, so sad, it got my favorite team into the Superbowl. I really hope they win it, mostly because I can't stand either of the Manning brothers, but Eli especially. It's that spoiled brat look he always has on his face that I just can't get past. You just know by looking at him that he was one of those bratty kids that whined and threw fits all the time when they were little. We shall see on February 5th.
Until next time...
First off... The Bruins Go To The White House
Being a "NorthernGirl" from the eastern part of the United States it's almost a given that when it comes to sports I would be a fan of all things New England. The Boston Bruins are no exception. I can't tell you how thrilled I was when they won the Stanley Cup. Such an amazing experience for a great bunch of guys. Which brings me to yesterday's visit to the White House and Tim Thomas' absence.
Tim, you are my hero.
I am not a fan of our current president, but no matter which way you slice it, it's an honor to visit the White House in any capacity other than the public tour. Unfortunately, it seemed quite obvious that our current commander in chief knows very little about hockey. But for Tim to stay out of it to make a statement regarding his beliefs is amazing. Tim Thomas is a great guy and it's nice to see a sports figure standing up for what he believes in. You go Tim! Oh, and kick some Capital butt tonight! I'll be watching :)
Which brings me to my second topic... The State of the Union Address.
I will not be watching. Any of it. The state of the union address is basically the president's one time a year to stand up in front of everyone and brag about what they think they've done and what they think they are going to do. And until I see results in my middle class life... not interested. Besides, Obama, for whatever faults he has, is really a great public speaker. It was a lot more fun when GW was president. Hubby and I actually watched one of his addresses and played "State of the Union Drinking Game." Every time GW messed up the pronunciation of a word or said "nucular"...DRINK!
Hubby had a pretty good buzz by the end.
And speaking of being a fan of all things New England... how about those Patriots? Can you believe Cundiff missed that kick? Too bad, so sad, it got my favorite team into the Superbowl. I really hope they win it, mostly because I can't stand either of the Manning brothers, but Eli especially. It's that spoiled brat look he always has on his face that I just can't get past. You just know by looking at him that he was one of those bratty kids that whined and threw fits all the time when they were little. We shall see on February 5th.
Until next time...
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
Inspired
Ok, so I never really got the whole "blog" thing. What could people possibly have to write about every single day? Then I read some hilarious blogs by some women who pull out all the stops. The good, bad and the ugly of motherhood and life in general. Because let's face it. . . nothing is ever as perfect as parenting magazines, and sometimes the news, would have you believe.
So I guess you could say that I've been inspired by some of these amazing women who put it all out there in hopes that someone, somewhere understands where they are coming from, but at the same time, don't really give a shit if people disagree. It is what it is.
I want to be perfect. I really do. I'm a smart, capable person so I know I have the tools. It's the execution that's a little... off. Story of my life I guess. But then, isn't there just so much damn emphasis on being perfect nowadays? Perfect mom, perfect wife, perfect friend, perfect family member, the list goes on and on. It's a lot of freakin' pressure, isn't it? Who the hell needs it? In this day and age, there is enough crap to deal with just trying to get through 24 hours in one piece.
So I've decided that average is okay and I'm going to rant about it and to hell with whoever doesn't like it. I like to think of it as free therapy. If I get 2 followers, great.. that's two more people that can hear my somewhat twisted side of things and maybe agree. Or maybe, they'll tell me what an idiot I am and run screaming from my page, warning the internet masses to stay far, far away. I'll never know unless I try, right?
And now for the disclaimer. I love my husband and kids to death and would never change a thing about where this whirlwind has taken me.
So, a little about myself, because what blog wouldn't be complete without the cheesy intro.
I'm a thirty-something (edging towards forty) wife, mom of a boy and a girl, and proud, albeit exhausted, holder of a full time job. Then I come home and start my other full time job. Hubby and I work opposite shifts, so when I'm home, he's not and I have the kids all to myself. Now, you would think that time would be packed with wonderful mother-child memories full of flowers, sunshine, and ponies that shit rainbows.
It's not.
First off, let me tell you a little about this full time job that I'm so proud of. I am an emergency services dispatcher. The agency I work for dispatches police, fire, and EMS for three different towns, part of the Appalachian Trail (stupid hikers will be a whole other blog post, along with "how to call 911") and a slew of unincorporated towns. So basically, I listen to people's problems all day and figure out what they need to solve it and get it rolling, get it done. Saving lives, one phone call at a time. All sarcasm aside, the job kicks ass and I really do feel proud of myself most days when the clock hits 3:00. This just may be the one area of my life where I am close to perfect. I have to be, because if I'm not, things go south in a hurry.
You caught the part about listening to people complain and ask for help all day? Well, then I go home and do the same thing until about 9:00 at night. Home, where my husband has already gone to work and my kids are waiting impatiently for me to solve their problem of the day. Let me correct myself... problems. Because at the end of the day, there is homework and karate and downshifting from friend and recess drama and supper and arguments over who takes their shower first and who gets to watch their favorite TV show and bedtimes and staying in bed and shutting off lights because they should be sleeping and....
You get the picture.
I joke with my husband that he has the easy part. He gets the kids in the morning when they're happy and rested and just wondering what to ride first, the bike, the scooter, or the skateboard. I get them at the end of the day when they're tired, cranky, and well, all of that stuff above. You know, the "hard" stuff. But what was that line from that movie with that overrated actor..."It's supposed to be hard. If it wasn't hard, everyone would do it. The hard... is what makes it great."
Quoting cheesy baseball movies... perfect.
Before you all gasp and click the ominous red X in the upper right corner of your screen because you think I'm a horrible mother for putting this out there and even worse person in general, let me say this. It's not all bad. We do have plenty of great moments, easy moments, possibly even perfect ones. The hard parts are what make me appreciate those moments even more. They make me appreciate the fact that even though I'm not a rail-thin, uber-organized PTA mom, I've got a great life that is more than I could have ever hoped for.
It's just short of perfect. And I wouldn't have it any other way. Hope you stay with me for the ride.
So I guess you could say that I've been inspired by some of these amazing women who put it all out there in hopes that someone, somewhere understands where they are coming from, but at the same time, don't really give a shit if people disagree. It is what it is.
I want to be perfect. I really do. I'm a smart, capable person so I know I have the tools. It's the execution that's a little... off. Story of my life I guess. But then, isn't there just so much damn emphasis on being perfect nowadays? Perfect mom, perfect wife, perfect friend, perfect family member, the list goes on and on. It's a lot of freakin' pressure, isn't it? Who the hell needs it? In this day and age, there is enough crap to deal with just trying to get through 24 hours in one piece.
So I've decided that average is okay and I'm going to rant about it and to hell with whoever doesn't like it. I like to think of it as free therapy. If I get 2 followers, great.. that's two more people that can hear my somewhat twisted side of things and maybe agree. Or maybe, they'll tell me what an idiot I am and run screaming from my page, warning the internet masses to stay far, far away. I'll never know unless I try, right?
And now for the disclaimer. I love my husband and kids to death and would never change a thing about where this whirlwind has taken me.
So, a little about myself, because what blog wouldn't be complete without the cheesy intro.
I'm a thirty-something (edging towards forty) wife, mom of a boy and a girl, and proud, albeit exhausted, holder of a full time job. Then I come home and start my other full time job. Hubby and I work opposite shifts, so when I'm home, he's not and I have the kids all to myself. Now, you would think that time would be packed with wonderful mother-child memories full of flowers, sunshine, and ponies that shit rainbows.
It's not.
First off, let me tell you a little about this full time job that I'm so proud of. I am an emergency services dispatcher. The agency I work for dispatches police, fire, and EMS for three different towns, part of the Appalachian Trail (stupid hikers will be a whole other blog post, along with "how to call 911") and a slew of unincorporated towns. So basically, I listen to people's problems all day and figure out what they need to solve it and get it rolling, get it done. Saving lives, one phone call at a time. All sarcasm aside, the job kicks ass and I really do feel proud of myself most days when the clock hits 3:00. This just may be the one area of my life where I am close to perfect. I have to be, because if I'm not, things go south in a hurry.
You caught the part about listening to people complain and ask for help all day? Well, then I go home and do the same thing until about 9:00 at night. Home, where my husband has already gone to work and my kids are waiting impatiently for me to solve their problem of the day. Let me correct myself... problems. Because at the end of the day, there is homework and karate and downshifting from friend and recess drama and supper and arguments over who takes their shower first and who gets to watch their favorite TV show and bedtimes and staying in bed and shutting off lights because they should be sleeping and....
You get the picture.
I joke with my husband that he has the easy part. He gets the kids in the morning when they're happy and rested and just wondering what to ride first, the bike, the scooter, or the skateboard. I get them at the end of the day when they're tired, cranky, and well, all of that stuff above. You know, the "hard" stuff. But what was that line from that movie with that overrated actor..."It's supposed to be hard. If it wasn't hard, everyone would do it. The hard... is what makes it great."
Quoting cheesy baseball movies... perfect.
Before you all gasp and click the ominous red X in the upper right corner of your screen because you think I'm a horrible mother for putting this out there and even worse person in general, let me say this. It's not all bad. We do have plenty of great moments, easy moments, possibly even perfect ones. The hard parts are what make me appreciate those moments even more. They make me appreciate the fact that even though I'm not a rail-thin, uber-organized PTA mom, I've got a great life that is more than I could have ever hoped for.
It's just short of perfect. And I wouldn't have it any other way. Hope you stay with me for the ride.
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