I may have crows feet dancing around my eyes and a kangaroo pouch, but I still got it. Evident today when I stopped to get a coffee. I pulled up to the drive thru with my hair in a ponytail and wearing my new Yoga pants. If there was something printed on my derrière it could’ve said “You know you want this.” No, really, I could probably fit each word. The only way the outfit could have been better was with a matching Scrunchie. I miss scrunchies. It allowed you to add color to the “I have given up on life” outfit. Anyway, the 20-something Barista clearly liked what he saw. After a quick conversation he returned to the window with my iced coffee, winked and said “I gave you extra caramel.” I wasn’t even wearing Spanx. He didn’t care about the car seats lining the back seat of my minivan. Or should I say “Cougar Mobile.” He was flirting right? Oh, he felt sorry for me? Either way, I enjoyed the coffee while shopping for school clothes. Since I suck at family planning I have to shop in the men’s department for my (very tall) 12-year-old and baby section for my toddler. If you have an older son go to Marshall’s. I found back to school Under Armour shirts today for $12.99. Perhaps I can use the money I saved to get Botox. I see free whip cream in my future.
We are of to a rocky start. My cab driver has clearly never heard of Perimenopause. It’s hot, humid and he is driving with the windows up. When I asked him to turn on the air conditioning he looked confused. He doesn’t understand me. To make matters worse, my cab just got rear ended. I cannot make this stuff up. It turns out he does speak English. “Oh Shit,” he said. My thoughts exactly! I will be the lady at the conference sweating profusely with whiplash.
I would not describe myself as adventurous. I have no desire to jump out of a plane or climb a mountain. I have been known to drink tap water instead of bottled. Yeah, I’m a bad ass. I also enjoy traveling. Well, I did before I had kids. I had no qualms about jumping on a plane and heading out of town. As a parent it becomes a little more complicated. I have to arrange a sitter, stock the refrigerator and lay out clothes for the kids. My husband isn’t colorblind, but he tends to dress my children like clowns. Then, there is the anxiety and guilt of leaving them. Well, I am going anyway! As we speak I am sitting on a plane heading to New York City for BlogHer. It’s a huge conference of bloggers. Google it. It’s a pretty big deal.
I almost didn’t make it on this flight. My irrational fears of traveling alone nearly got the best of me. Then, last night when I went online to cancel the trip my 2-year-old daughter ran in the room and climbed on my lap. She giggled as she pounded the keys on my laptop before eventually turning it off. Maybe she was trying to tell me something. I wouldn’t want her to be afraid to take chances in life. I want her and my boys to dream big. So, I am on my way. I may hide in the bathroom stall for a while, but I will be there.
I am constantly asking things like: “Did you give him his medicine?” “Did he get the medicine yet?” This is a great idea when you are slowly losing your mind and can’t remember.
Today is a big day for one of my dear friends. It’s her son’s high school graduation party. When I met him he was a skinny boy with a cowlick and a cute smile. I saw him go from being the awkward kid with braces to the star football player. Luckily, he was raised well and never became an arrogant jock. Those guys grow up to be the fat, bald men in town working nine to five while longing for their glory days. Am I bitter that those dudes wouldn’t date me in high school? Nope, they blossomed too soon. Clearly, I win!
This young man is smart and kind. Plus, he didn’t end up being a cast member of MTV’s 16 and Pregnant. Nowadays, that in itself is an accomplishment.
In the Fall this young man will attend college. The baby she rocked and toddler she snuggled will rest his head in a dorm room. She may have an empty nest, (and may need therapy) but her heart is full. She has so much to be proud of.
It is hard to believe my circle of friends have reached this milestone in life. Then again, I recently had an intern tell me he “grew up watching me on the news.” I should just reserve my spot at the local senior home now.
This is me. For the past decade I have worked in local television news. Most recently I was an on-air personality. Sounds pretty fancy, huh? It’s not. I was a reporter. I covered every story you can imagine regardless of the weather conditions. I often rode in filthy trucks with toxic fumes billowing in the air.
Before you start booing and hissing please listen. The media isn’t as bad as many perceive. In fact, sometimes I cared too much. I never wanted to knock on someone’s door after they suffered an unimaginable loss. I had to. No matter how quickly I moved, the sidewalk seemed to go on for miles. Everything around me was a blur, my heart raced and I always had a pit in my stomach. I have cried during and after interviews. They weren’t crocodile tears. To this day a song, smell, street corner, etc. can trigger a memory of someone I only knew from a photograph.
Reporting is a young person’s career. Once you have lived holding the microphone becomes more and more difficult. I now look at the grieving mother and think about how her deceased teenage daughter was once a bubbly toddler like mine. She rocked her to sleep, taught her to ride a bike and together they shopped for a prom dress. These stories haunt me.
Don’t get me wrong, there were countless assignments that I found to be extremely rewarding and even fun. Our reports have helped those who couldn’t help themselves and did right injustices. Over the years, I have met thousands of amazing people doing incredible things in my community. I found my best friends in a newsroom. We have shared many laughs in a newsroom. Truth is, the folks behind your nightly broadcast are hilarious! Of course, myself included. It may surprise some people to know that I breathe sarcasm.
I am grateful for the opportunity to work in news. I have learned so many valuable lessons. The most important being life is a gift. Tomorrow isn’t promised. So, today I am hanging up this hat and focusing on my family. I will write, but as a Mommy Blogger. I will share my opinion on this website which is often forbidden in news. We will laugh together and yes I will still tell stories. Lots of stories. My stories. I hope you tune in.
All the Best,
I just got a speeding ticket. I was on my way to drop the kids at grandma’s house while I bring the car to the shop. Yes, my new minivan is already having issues. At speeds of 60 miles per hour or more the wheel shakes like Charlie Sheen when he isn’t “winning.” The mechanic at the dealer looked at me like I had three heads when I described the problem. “You just bought the car.” Yes, Sike! I am making it up. I would love nothing more than to waste an afternoon at your auto body shop reading magazines from 1999 and drinking coffee that tastes like it was brewed in an engine.
I was less than a mile from my in-law’s when I saw the flashing lights. My older son started to panic. Clearly, he has seen too many crime movies. I’m pretty sure my mug wasn’t featured on America’s Most Wanted. The officer asked me if I knew why he pulled me over. You like my nail polish and want to know the color? You wanted to see how the movie playing in my minivan ended? Nope.
He seemed like a nice man. I thought he was going to give me warning. Then, he asked my name. Clearly, this fella wasn’t fond of our family crest. He confirmed my name, grinned and said “I will be just a minute.” Really? You don’t have anything better to do than chase down moms in minivans? I’m sure that motley crew hanging out on the corner of Main Street is selling cookies. Sure enough he wrote me a ticket and dictated instructions about a court date. In my most motherly voice I replied, “Thank you so much sir. I sure hope you catch some real criminals today.”
I may actually try to make my first batch of homemade chocolate chip cookies. (I think)</span> <img title=”cookies” src=”http://media-cache0.pinterest.com/upload/16607092346012655_qevp5TyI_f.jpg” alt=”” width=”375″ height=”500″ /> <a href=”http://tendercrumb.blogspot.com/2008/09/my-favorite-chocolate-chip-cookie.html”>www.pinterest.com</a>
I need a good salsa recipe. I am addicted. The jarred stuff just doesn’t cut it. This one looks good. I will let you know.
Easy Blender Salsa
1 can (28 Ounce) whole tomatoes with juice
2 cans (10 Ounce) Rotel (diced tomatoes And green chilies)
1/4 cup chopped onion
1 clove garlic, minced
1 whole jalapeño, quartered And sliced thin
1/4 teaspoon sugar
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon ground cumin
1/2 cup fresh cilantro (more To taste)
1/2 whole lime, juiced
My son finally won a prize yesterday at the Penny Carnival. It only took $40 to win something that is certain to break his heart. Why don’t you just tell him Santa Claus isn’t real? When has a fish won at a carnival ever been a good pet? You don’t ever hear “That fish lived a good, long life.” This sucker has a few days at best. My son already noticed the fish was lethargic. “The fish was tricking me and pretending it was sleeping. Then he woke up.” Tomorrow he will be “sleeping” on the surface of feces filled water. We will have to set the “sleeping” fish free in his grandparents pond. I’m not ready to hold a toilet funeral.