J J J Just Dance....

Does your child lack rhythm? Does he embarrass you on the great dance-off? What about you? Do you kind of maybe think it's possible your booty isn't shaking right? 

I feel the need to discuss this concept. I feel dorky writing it out like this and making some of the confessions I'm making, but really, how else are you going to learn? There's a bunch of people out there in this world who cannot dance and won't even try because they know they can't dance. Shaking it is fun. It's stress relieving. You don't have to suck at dancing. So I'm going into the stuff nobody talks about. The stuff people pretend they were born with to feel superior. This blog is about how to not look like one of those people on the dance floor, you know the one you make fun of from your bar stool. You might even make a video and laugh at them on your Facebook... Yeah, that won't happen to you if you get off the bar stool and dance after reading this... And if you are one of those people everyone else is making fun of, consider this my public service announcement...

And this is really good advice too for people on the spectrum. The over-analytical side and the difficulty processing emotion kind of makes it too easy to not feel the rhythm. I do promise to be blogging more on autism at some point. Anyway... 


My sister is a fabulous dancing drama queen. Her son, poor guy, 12 years old, can't dance. Even worse, he knows it. When I was a kid, I had no idea. Nobody ever told me. It wasn't until I was dancing in front of mirrors at a club semi-sober was I able to determine that I kind of have no rhythm, well that and at that age, my new set of friends let me know. I thank them for that, but I would not change my years of delusional thinking that I could in fact dance because they were happy years. NOW, I know how dance okay, but there's always that guy at the club with happy feet like he's Usher who has to go and show off and make my butt wiggles feel pretty inferior. Anyway, I'm amazed how such a good dancer like my sister has reproduced any offspring who can't dance. Like how the hell does that happen?

Here's the first step to getting in step...

So I've been telling my nephew to count out the music. Obviously, some things are 3 counts, some are 2 counts, some are a strange 5 count, but most songs are your easy 4 count. It really helps. Sometimes you feel the music and just find the rhythm without thought. That's awesome when it happens, but when you are somewhere like your school's dance, unless you truly don't give a fuck which is rare among teens, you are going to have issues "feeling" the music when all eyes are on you.

Cheerleaders and dancers have always turned the song into a four count to learn the choreography, and often to make it up. You will see them practicing to not music, but to "One two three and four, five six seven eight, jump one, step two, three, four, shake it five, six, seven, boom eight...." Almost like working out. With a little cheerleading experience under my belt, I eventually figured out the counting it out, but I felt odd doing it like that's not what people do right? Wrong.

I was at the club one night, and this crazy bitch knew how to dance. She was rocking it. I found myself sipping my vodka and watching her most of the night in awe. Anyway, after the club, I went out to breakfast with my friends. Guess who I got to sit next to? So, still drunk out of my mind, I had to ask how she learned to shake it. She told me she counts it out in her head. Made me feel much better, up until the part where she spontaneously with absolutely zero provocation threatened to stab me with a fork, in which case I sobered up in point five and dared her to try. This was long before it was cool to do that on the internet, threaten to stab people with eating utensils. I was caught off guard with that. I mean who does that? Inmates will use a fork as a shank. INMATES! And she was pissed serious as cancer with it. We almost ended up in the parking lot until her friends stopped her, like I had already gotten up and walked halfway to the door telling her to bring her ass on. Shit was on like Donkey Kong. How dare you be all role model like and flip the switch like that on me. Fucking crazy bitch. Glad we didn't fight though. She would have totally kicked my ass.

Anyway, dance also is one of those things that takes practice. Like you kind of suck at first, but the more you count it in your head and move with that beat, the better you get. Which is why I always tell people to dance nekkid in the mirror... It really is good practice, and there's so much more to benefit from it, like getting comfortable with your body and yourself.

The other tip I learned, never watch someone who can't dance while you are dancing. You will find yourself dancing to their crazy rhythm. Instead, watch the guy who can dance. You will then find yourself learning some new moves, learning a new way to approach the rhythm, and wow, you are kind of in rhythm and almost feeling the music. Ladies, don't dance with a guy who can't dance unless he's hot and you are trying to take him home with you which I don't suggest doing if you are in high school or at a bar because most of them are never worth dancing badly for.

And with my kids, I've been focusing on the simple side to side stuff with them. I figure once they get the footing down, which is half the rhythm, they'll be able to incorporate other things. It's basically you step to the right with your right, and then you bring your left foot over on the next beat. Then you step to the left with your left, and you bring your right foot over. That's your four count. Easy peasy right? Once you get that in rhythm, like counting it out, then you can do stuff with your arms, shoulders, boobie shakes, back arches, butt wiggles, throw in a spin or some foot magic, or even change up the steps... It's easier than the electric slide, and you can do it anywhere there's music playing without looking a fool.

The other one I do that's easy when I'm too drunk to count to 4... I just step forward to a beat and hold it for a beat and then step to a beat, and hold it for a beat. Then throw in a step step step step, step hold step hold. Meanwhile I wiggle my butt ever so slightly. Some day I might make a youtube video of my safe drunk move while wearing platform 5 inch heels... It's easier than walking really.

Am I the world's greatest dancer with this? NO! But am I the one people make fun of from the sidelines? Not anymore bitches!!!  The important thing is that dancing is fun and you really should never be afraid to shake it. Yes it takes the confidence of a dog with a boner, but embrace that feeling of confidence because that's half the fun. Cmon now, you have to admit a dog with a boner humping someone's leg is a very happy dog, whereas the dog trying to control his hump in the name of civilized behavior is probably going to get cancer. Even if you dance badly, the important thing is to dance regardless of what the haters say. Would you rather be the person having fun? Or the person who has to make fun of people because they are bored?

Fashion Debauchery: Fall 2012 Colors and Predictions

Just because I'm a mom doesn't mean I have to look like the frumpy housewife, right? I mean I probably have too many days where gay men in public felt compelled to let EVERYONE know my fashion faux pas, which wasn't a result of anything like ignorance, but more like I'm a mom, I'm freaking busy. My pants may not match my shirt, but at least I'm wearing pants. I'm sure spectators appreciated my cat fight, bitch fest with a flaming gay guy at Walmart about fashion while I'm wearing my nephew's shirt, my father's old shorts and flip flops because I'm not afraid to remind him that my boobs are real. Yes I can dish out some pretty low blows. I'm proud to say though that I was able to entertain a crowd of people with my boobs without actually having to show my boobs.

But fashion is kind of a big deal in this world, and does it really hurt to try to look good? I mean it's kind of fun, and well, you never know when you will run into that bitch from high school who got a little fatter than you did and you really want to rub it in her face with a little fashion overkill.

Mom fashion, of course, is way different. I refuse to chase my kids in platform 5 inch heels, though I do have a couple pair for those nights I get out of the cage, oops I mean nest, no really it's a cage. I do plan on writing more about mom fashion, but to start the fashion topic out, I'm going to hit on the colors of 2012.

First off, these colors extend beyond fashion and into home decorating and any other kind of creative design. If you are an artist, you can easily unleash a creative fury using this palette. Scrapbookers, here you go. Second, these colors can extend beyond your fashion and into your family's.

Me likes the Tangerine Tango and French Roast. A little of the Honey Gold mixed into it, and nice warm look. Reminds me of coffee, and maybe that's why I like it because, well, coffee is everything.








Then there's the fact that I think the Ultramarine Green is ugly, until I see it on clothes, especially with the witchy look because modern witches are hot (good ones, who operate from their light, just sayin).

Another combination I like are the soft colors, the last 3 together. Titanium, Rhapsody and Rose Smoke. For some reason, it reminds me of my grandmother's bathroom. Not the color combination, but that it reminds me of the infamous Avon smell, like roses and baby powder mixed together. Is that weird?  Yes, until you look at the colors and think about it and then you are like, "YES, I know that Avon scent, and yes, those colors accurately portray that Avon scent."


Did I come up with these colors? NO. I'm just the messenger. The real knowledge comes from color experts, PANTONE, and their Fashion Color Report. Apparently, they do this more often than once a year, and I love how they link to fashion designers and influencers.

So for men, they got these... It's pretty much the same thing but 3 color changes. The Rhubarb one, Sea Fog and Whitecap Gray. I'm feeling Rhubarb to be a good feminine color too this year.

What do they say about fashion this fall? Well the expert designers and people involved in the industry quoted on the Report seem to all have their own unique concept for Fall and Winter. My favorites though, and I forget who said what except for one...

Tommy Hilfiger is feeling the Blues in "classic prep meets military." Generally, the Peacoat has always been a trendy design, but they can make a woman look frumpy. They do have various types of options with that to remove the frumpiness, but this year, I'm going to go more Air Force and less Navy with my look, mainly because I already have my coats figured out for winter, though I should get my old ones dry cleaned. Long trench coat is what I'm thinking, with the military look, the rain coat supplied to basic trainees, except I'm leaving blue and going for shades of Tangerine Tango and Honey Gold, something to brighten up my wardrobe but still matches my handbags (my summer handbag as well as my winter one). Will I actually wear it? Probably not to a bunch of places with the kids, but IF I escape a night and the weather calls for it...

Someone else was anticipating a trend of women dressing more like men, the classic look... Fedora's, Pinstripes, red lips... Colleen Sherin, Senior Fashion Director, Saks Fifth Avenue says, 

"In terms of a beauty trend and color palette for fall 2012, I believe we will see a return to a more classic and polished look, with a Deep Red lip, possibly complemented by a smokey eye. Hair may be swept back into an undone pony tail or chignon. This was prevalent in several of the early fall collections and also appeared on many a stunning starlet during the awards season. This is a striking look when worn with some of the Darker Green, Petrol and Berry tones of the season." 

This is the look I'm feeling the most this year. I've been feeling it during the summer, and it hasn't gone away. Kind of like mixing sophistication with glamor. You can see it in the way I've designed the Dribbles and Grits store. Too bad I can't design all the clothes beyond graphics. I'll get more into this look later, especially making it mommy lifestyle do-able. 

NOTE: All pics in this blog post was provided by (or altered from images on) Pantone's Website.

Can a Mommy get her Bath Time too? I guess not :(

My girl Jenny over at Holdin' Holden wrote a blog post today, or recently since it's like after midnight so that messes up the today thing, but she wrote about trying to take a shower. Love her work. Enjoy her stories. She's a hottie too so the imagining her nekkid was very fun.

Here's a quote from it...

There are things that non-parents would look at that we parents do that might seem.... odd. Perhaps even bordering crazy. To us- well, you have to make adjustments to just about everything, even if it doesn't even make sense to you and certainly wouldn't make sense to anyone else who didn't have to do it.

No one ever said having to taste baby food as an adult was pleasant (well, unless it's bananas or sweet potatoes. Nom.)- but if it will get food into a stubborn ass child's mouth and down the hatch- it has to be done. NO ONE ever set you up for physically having to help your kid take a crap... but if their ass is congested and they are screaming in pain- you will grab a shit; yes you will. You may hesitate, you may dry heave, you may NEVER tell ANYONE- but you will do it.    

You can see where this is going. Yes we as parents often deny ourselves basic hygiene because the kids come first, and sometimes sleep trumps shower. C'mon now, if all you got to yourself in a day was 4 hours to include your time to sleep, would you waste it on a shower? Pffff.


I shower after the kids are asleep usually. I do everything I can possibly do at this hour. The reason I can get away with this is that they are getting older and sleep better at night to where I'm getting more than 2 to 4 hours every 24 hours to myself. If you got kids who slept all night long early on, you are a lucky bitch; I want to rub you and make wishes. Mine still have some issues, like they aren't sleeping the whole night without waking up a few times like a normal baby, especially the 2 year old, and there are still nights where they will sleep in shifts. I said BETTER than before, which anything was better than before because they were sleeping in shifts to where someone was up 24/7 around the clock, for like years.

I try very hard to force all that on the husband because I already put in 5 years of the grave-yard shift, and when he bitches, I remind him how it's easier now and that I have as much sympathy for him as he has had for me in the last 5 years. Yes the shoe is finally on the other foot. Partly because I'm a bitch and I'm sadistically, maniacally enjoying this. The other part is because I have to. Long-term chronic sleep deprivation has finally taken its toll on me, like I now have Cataplexy (google it.. it's like seizures). If you had children under the age of 25 and people called you a whore over it, I will tell you they are wrong WRONG WRONG WRONG WRONG WRONG. I could handle all nighters much easier in my 23 year old body than I can in my perpetual 29 year old body (and by perpetual I mean every year I celebrate my 29th birthday much like the Mad Hatter has tea). Any woman who has children young is WISE!

Back to the shower... Even with the husband home, I end up with an audience constantly moving my shower curtain back so water gets all over the floor throwing a fit because they want to take a bath now, or they want a toy that's in the bath, or they want something out of reach, or they are fighting over something like closing the door, she won't stop looking at me, she's in my spot... Then I scream for the husband, and he's deaf, like the only way to get his assistance is to get out dripping wet, walk through the whole house, get to the Living Room and then YELL because just talking doesn't work either. The yell only gets pass his deafness. Then you have to get pass the manness by nagging and repeating yourself 3 times before he gets the major point. By then, I'm going off on him to where I'm amazed neighbors have yet to call adult protective services on me.

The sad thing is, I was trained by the military for this. I can shower in less than 2 minutes, less than 3 if I shave. Since momhood, adding the kids to the equation knocks it up to about 5 minutes if I'm trying to rush, but that's still not bad. 5 minutes though, that's all it takes for one to distract me and the other 2 to tear down curtains, sprinkle cheese and magic glitter everywhere, and the glitter is magic because I don't buy glitter, so I have no idea where the shit keeps coming from. Magical glitter fairy? Eh, at least the mess sparkles.

So yeah, I shower at night. Sometimes I still do in the day. I still sometimes scream for the husband like it will do something (it being the screaming or the husband). I still end up breaking up fights and stuff on my own. But if I'm going to shave places so that it's not as embarrassing in the event someone steals my pants, then I have to wait until nobody is here or everyone is asleep, just like I have to do if I want to eat something warm with some nutritional value to it. 

Now if showering wasn't in the stars for me for a couple days, these are my field hygiene techniques I use as I need them...

1. Change your clothes (just to give the impression that you did the whole shower/shave/brush teeth routine)
2. Hand Sanitizer isn't just for hands. Yes I smack that alcohol on other places of the body if I think it stinks, using common sense of course, like don't stick it up your ass crack or something. Perfect for boob sweat though.
3. Victoria Secret Body Spray, all over including hair, my favorite being Love Spell (Strawberries and Champagne I used in basic training religiously, so it takes me there)
4. Flushable Wipes Unscented. In my Orbitz Gum voice, "Dirty Crotch? Clean it up..." 
5. Regular Wipes... If it's good enough for our soldiers, it might just work for us moms... I tend to use them if I get dirt on my knees or the bottom of my feet.
6. Hair Accessories. Pony tails, the half ones, the claws, scarves... 
7. Hair Odor, I use Catwalk Shine Spray just because I like how it smells. 
8. Leg Hair, I just quickly go over the main spots with my razor dry. Sometimes I use the husband's electric razor/clippers. The fastest way though is to just wear pants.
9. Make-up, I always use Olive Oil to remove it, and I barely wear make up.

Since this whole post was inspired by Miss Jenny, go check out her blog. She has a pretty awesome book too for sale. Go visit her Straight out of the Psycho Shower Scene-I need some back up 


BTW, I still dance nekkid in front of the mirror for a second EVERY time I shower. 

Secrets to my Sexy

I think the sexiest thing about me is me. I know me. I love me. I am very comfortable with who I am and how I look. I wish this for all women. So here's some things I do that helps me do this, and I do these things religiously, like daily, like they are all parts of my life because they are things I do to maintain a healthy relationship with my self.

Dance

I dance all the time, especially nekkid in front of the mirror. There's just something empowering about it, but also it's like you release a lot of negative vibes with dance. I shake my booty in front of public cameras, and sometimes my boobs which I usually refer to as a milk shake, not to be confused with MY milk shake which is more like my sexy/my swag/my ambiance. When I walk around the house nekkid for any reason, I often do a milk shake in front of windows, just in case there's a stalker you never know. The husband, he gets free random lap dances, and most of the time, they are no where near normal expectations of sexy, yet somehow I'm still sexy through it all. The kids, we break out into dance all the time. It's important they learn how to dance anyway. Driving, best believe I'm dancing, and if the radio is broke, I'm probably singing badly and dancing to it or rapping badly and dancing to it (like I end up sounding less like Tupac and more like Dr. Seuss when I try to rap). If you don't believe me about dance, ELLEN. I'm no where near a lesbian, but I think Ellen is sexy because of the way she carries herself, like I would enjoy dry humping her and the enjoyment would probably be more awkward to me than actually dry humping her.

Mirror Talk/Real Talk

This is important. It really is. You can stare at yourself naked in the mirror thinking, "oh, I'm fat. Look at those wrinkles. My hair is limp. Stretchmarks. Eww what the hell is that? A new mole?" OR you can stare at yourself nekkid and say, "Watch me make my fat jiggle when I move my ass like this. Ha ha, it's kind of sexy when it does that. I wonder if I can make my booty clap. Hmm, need to work on that. Let's try this move... oooh, my boobs are flying. If they were any bigger, that might hurt. Now that I think about it, they are kind of perky. Gotta touch the nipples. Oooh new song. I don't want anybody else. When I think about me I touch myself... Oh that's not a bad move. Drop it like it's hot. Can't touch this. STOP, yeah, I'm a sexy beast." Doing this every time you shower, in a month, you will be so comfortable with your own body as well as increase your awesome dance moves because now you know how you really look and was able to tweak some shit, and watch out world, now you have been practicing.

Music

Music is an art, an expression, and a way to brainwash yourself. You listen to depressing shit when you are depressed right? Well I get depressed when I listen to depressing shit just the same. I tend to try to listen to more positive, empowering soul food type stuff just because I find it inspirational and it does play a role in molding me into a person I want to be. See this post for the type of stuff I make sure is in every play list, and you can shake your booty to it. Watch the women in the videos to see how.

Talk to Yourself

I not only talk to myself, but I argue with myself, and sometimes we just have meetings, which is cool because I ALWAYS get to be leader. Yes people think I'm crazy, but they will think whatever they think regardless. But really, I get to know myself. I communicate with myself. They say communication is important in any relationship, well that includes the relationship you have with yourself. Sometimes I look in the mirror to talk to myself and establish eye contact and stuff. Kind of weird sometimes because I get distracted by my sexy eyes and then I go down that path where I wish I could so clone myself. But I talk about things from what I'm doing right now to help me concentrate, what I need to do to help me focus, and things like where I delve into the meaning of life, my purpose in this life, my role as a mom, what I want to start working on or improving, my goals, my dreams, my problems, people I think are hot... Things you talk about with anyone important in your life.

Prayer

This goes with talking to myself, but adding God to the conversation means you shut the hell up once in a while and listen. That's easier said than done. God is one of the hardest people/entities to listen to because He doesn't  use words. He requires us to open parts of ourselves that we don't open for anyone else. The easiest way to know God is to do the right thing, and as you do that, you can more easily recognize Him when He's speaking to you, and with that, learn how to open yourself up more to Him. This goes for anyone of any religion, and you have to legitimately do the right thing, not pretend to. There are atheists out there who probably speak to God daily and have no idea. They've just labeled Him as something else other than God.

Think of Yourself during Foreplay

Or when you masturbate... I had to put this after Prayer just for the juxtaposition. Anyway, when you are getting hot and heavy sexually, don't think about other men or women, or porn... Think about your body. Look at your body. Watch the lady parts bloom, you know what I mean. Get a mirror involved. You notice how some people in the more adult groups/forums/social networking tend to really enjoy posting pics of their own privates? There's a reason for that. They are embarking upon finding themselves sexy, sometimes looking for someone to agree with them. You don't need people to agree with you. If you can turn yourself on with yourself, there's no need for any confirmation or reaffirmation. Posting your pics somewhere is then a charity. You can take it to the next level and really enjoy pleasing your lover with your sexy. Don't make it a job. Strike a pose when doing the nasty, and watch them enjoy you, all of you, while laid bare. You can knock this mentality all you want, but this is one subject I'm actually very good at. If only it could be a career without it being illegal or deadly... Now I'm back down that disturbing, disappointing path of wanting to clone myself.

I'm too sexy for my sexy... A story about boobs

These are my boobs, and John Cena is so trying to grab them,
and they are nestled in a Victoria Secret Push Up Bra.

"True Story, just today...

Me: I don't think your wife likes me all that much.

Mechanic: It's your boobs. The last time you were here, she asked me if you were throwing your boobs at me...

Me: I get that a lot

Women. Let me tell you a secret. Boobs are boobs. I can post a million better pair of puppies from free internet porn than I could ever flaunt on my chest. Men don't discriminate when it comes to boobs. All boobs are awesome. If you are worried about my boobs, then you are going to have to worry about the entire female population. If you wanna fear your man hitting on me over something, fear my confidence, my mind, and my good heart, all of which are way bigger than my boobs, and all of which are things you can compete with without having to invest any money into the ordeal. If boobs are the best thing you have to offer, you will never be anything more than a ho."

That was my Facebook status yesterday on my super secret profile. I do hate when people don't give me a chance because of something stupid like my boobs. They are really missing out, especially over something so superficial. 

First off... My boobs are not that awesome. Borderlining a C-cup, they are really B-cups. Most of the time, I don't wear a Victoria Secret Push Up bra, but I do totally suggest it, and in the store, they do have a stash of cheap bras about 20 bucks in range, which is totally competitive with Walmart bra prices but with Victoria Secret's Swag Secret benefits. Back to my boobs, they went from whipped cream to heavy whipping cream in point five after breastfeeding, meaning I can also hold pencils and cigarette lighters underneath them without a bra. One of them falls funny, like they are not symmetrical when it comes to my cleavage, and it's possible one is slightly bigger than the other. I've always thought my nipples were odd, especially in comparison to nude women in 80's movies. Yet, for some reason, these puppies somehow attract a lot of attention. I've had guys walk up to me at the grocery store on days I look like shit just to tell me about my cleavage. I do not believe for one minute my boobs are that awesome. I think what is going on, everything a guy likes about me, they are projecting onto my boobs, or their favorite part of my body as some dudes will say I have an awesome ass when really there is no ass, but I do attract more boob men than ass men probably because I'm a very nurturing person. With that, women assume men look at the boobs or say I'm awesome because of the boobs when really, the boobs are just the messenger.

Second, maybe I'm a lesbian. Did she ever think of that? Maybe I'm married to a man who's way hotter than her husband. Maybe, just maybe, there's so much more to me than what is going on in her world with her man. I don't get it. How does a woman see another woman and the ONLY thing to come to her mind is, "That woman wants to sleep with my man"? How does one get to that point? It's not jealousy. The bitch was beautiful. You look at her and her man, and you think she's way out of his league... he's lucky. You get to know them, and the opposite is true.

Third, my mechanic is a good man. He doesn't over charge or hustle his customers. He tries to find the cheapest available routes for you and gives you options. His body work, on the cars, is an art. He is truly an auto body artist. Even his putty jobs look good. And the best thing about this man, he had his kids at work with him. Yes, he babysat his children while working, and he does this frequently. His toe nails were painted in nail polish, which you know were from his girls. He answered their pretend phone, and he had some unbelievable patience with their neediness while he's trying to work, more patience than I have as a mother with my kids. Even crazier, I don't think they are his kids. I think their biological father may be someone different. Does this all mean I want to sleep with him? No, it means I want to do business with him. I want him to have my money instead of the dickwad down the street who overcharges and treats me like I'm a stupid bitch who doesn't know anything about mechanics. I want to be the customer to the man who isn't staring at my boobs thinking they make me inferior to him or that they are an easy target to hustle. I definitely want a good person who is a good father to take my money and invest it in his family.

The main thing is, I try to let people see the best of me before they get to know the worst of me. And with that, I don't just cuss out or out-bitch the woman who is being a bitch. I try to understand where she's coming from, and I try to boost her ego just so she'll give me a damn chance. More than likely, she never will give me that chance, but she sure as hell won't if I give her a reason not to. I'd feel sorry for her when he leaves her, but I probably won't.

All I'm saying, ladies, please stop looking at other women like we are ho's. You are no different than the men with that shit. It's degrading, and it embarrasses our gender. If you want to worry about a ho, and your man cheating on you with that ho, then worry about the man lacking the substance to pick out a decent woman to cheat on you with, let alone lacking the substance to stay true. If you are worried about a woman tricking your husband into cheating, because yes, there are some real shady bitches out there, then you are going to have to pick and choose your battles wisely or you will be nothing more than the ho in the end.

My Top 2 Favorite Female Vocalists

Empowering music empowers. These women have kissed my soul in ways that would make my husband jealous. Add them to your playlist if you are woman enough to handle them...

Erykah Badu 

Cleva is a song I love because she talks about being cleva enough to make anything fly. My favorite line is the first one... "This is how I look without make-up. And with no bra my ninnies sag down low..." Yes you can make that 7 dollar dress fly just because you decide you are going to.

On and On, the song is deep, but the video is awesome too. She takes everything about that day and makes it work for her. This woman truly understands my mantra, "I shall make this day my bitch." 

Now let's roll to her Bag Lady Song. This is good advice. Pack light ladies.

Mary J. Blige

Just Fine is one of my favorites from Mary. I play this song out, especially for my daughters. 

Take me as I am, yes we all say this like we mean it. Well mean it like Mary means it... 

No More Drama inspires to rise above whatever is holding you down...

June Cleaver Ain't Shit

I’m sorry June, but see I don’t think you could keep up as a parent in this century. Let me tell you why us cyber moms are so 3008 and you are so 1950 and late…

Multitasking is for the weak

Fuck Multitasking. Moms today are omnipresent. We can be doing dishes and laundry, cooking dinner, teaching the kids something (possibly something useful), having multiple conversations (facebook, Skype and text messages) with people from all over the world while cleaning and kid chasing. I didn’t realize this really until a friend asked me what I was doing when the kids did something, and I was like, “well I was cooking dinner while paying the electric bill and doing a load of dishes cleaning up the kitchen a bit and I did take a break to fold laundry on top of the conversation we were having in chat….”  Then I thought about it further. Grocery shopping… While I’m at the store, I’m bargain shopping, meal planning, balancing the checking and making a budget on the fly, often teaching the kids some counting or something while chasing them throughout the store and often on the cell phone at the same time while thinking about what I plan to do when I get home, and while the kids are with me, I’m definitely going off on stupid parents and non-parents about making dumb ass comments about my parenting (we shop at Walmart so the assholes are always there, in herds). 

CPS wasn’t shit back in the day

Yeah bitch, your Cleaverish ways are no longer permitted by law if you want to keep your kids. The fact that you send them outside with no supervision before they are the age of 10 would get your kids taken away from you. I already looked through your house and saw a million safety hazards as your electrical sockets are not covered, your electrical wiring is completely outdated and your lead wiring is considered hazardous. I don’t see a fire extinguisher either, and that crib isn’t safe. You probably got some asbestos going too in that joint. Smoking around the kids is no longer considered cool, and those high fat, high starch home cooked meals are now considered unhealthy and if you got a fat kid, a form of child abuse. The Beaver also misses too much school and his immunizations aren’t up to date, and because he can’t concentrate, it’s medical neglect to not medicate him against your will. Do you even know where your kids are at this point? I mean talk about neglect.

Kids weren’t shit back in the day

Thanks to advances in education, the kids are getting smarter. Thanks to advances in technology, they are also more resourceful. Thanks to advances in medical science, they all suffer from psychological ailments before they are old enough to speak.  Yeah, your Cleaverish parenting approach would have those kids declaring mutiny and winning it in a matter of seconds. You would slit your throat if you had to babysit the spawns of today let alone raise them.  

You don’t have the skillz for it

Modern moms not only have to be able to lift over 50 pounds on a regular basis, but we also have to know some things as well. You have to be able to balance a checkbook because you can’t COUNT on a man to do shit. Other administrative skills also include being able to file taxes, fill out a shit ton of forms to enroll your kid in school or to homeschool, type at 70 plus words a minute, text at 50 wpm, use a fax machine, a word processor, the computer maintenance such as cleaning out cookies, defragging a hard drive and organizing electronic data…. You also have to operate other smart devices and have a basic understanding of the internet and multimedia. You have to be able to research and analyze empirical data if you want to be able to have a real conversation with your kid’s doctor who is trying to fuck you and your kids over just to bill your insurance. Do you even know how to give CPR?  Let’s not even get into the kids’ homework. In modern days, not only do you have to be able to operate your stove, you have to also know how to fix it and pay for it.

Women’s freedom was the cost to women’s liberties

Women now have jobs. Everything you did back in the day (cooking, cleaning, laundry…), women now have to do it in a quarter of the time you had for it.  In addition, the men no longer do anything useful. Women now also pay the bills, exercise (for strength and endurance), mow the lawn, fix and maintain the cars (bitch I bet you can’t even pump your own gas)….  We also wear pants, and for those of us who are lucky enough to have decent men worth keeping around, we now tell them what pants to wear, which is just another thing on the never ending to-do list.

I fully believe Miss Cleaver if you were able to travel to the future, you’d be white trash. You could not keep up on your best day, and the illusion women build of you as the perfect parent is just an illusion. You and your ways are now, like black and white television, archaic, no longer considered useful. Now put that in your skirt pocket for your next game of Bridge.

Lazy Chicken Casserole

I'm always on the search for a good lazy dinner, those dinners that require the least amount of effort and time but worth eating. I do a lot with chicken, and I love casseroles. You throw a bunch of crap into the 9x13 pan last second and stick it in the oven, and you can throw in anything that sounds good together based on what you got. You can even use raw minute rice with enough liquids and it cooks in the oven.

One chicken casserole that's top awesomelicious in my house is where I throw in cooked chicken chunks, a bag of frozen broccoli and cauliflower, some fresh broccoli, a couple cans of broccoli cheese soup, a can to can and a half of heavy whipping cream (instead of the water or milk as recommended on the can for soup), and then top it off with shredded cheddar and bread crumbs and bake until bubbly and cheese is melted.  We even got my friend's kid who HATES broccoli, HATES IT with a fiery passion, to eat some of it minus the broccoli chunks and love it.  The whipping cream is what makes the sauce awesomesauce. 

The biggest pain in the arsenal with this casserole is cooking the chicken first because it takes time, and then I have to pay attention to what I'm doing (rolling eyes to the left wondering if that's really as bad as it sounds)...   I've tried some short cuts like canned chicken, and that tastes a lot like tuna. Wasn't the same. Nope, not at all.

I found an all new low of laziness recently. Instead of buying raw chicken breast like I do and boil it, I drove through Wendy's and paid $4.19 per grilled chicken breast patty, and they even chopped it up for me. I'm such a June Cleaver because I learned from the lady at the drive thru window that Tyson makes frozen bags of cooked chicken breasts, already chopped up. It took me a minute to find it at my Walmart, and she's right. It was like seven bucks for the bag, but still, faster and easier than raw chicken. I've come to find out many women already know about this Tyson chicken, so I feel a little inferior.

What have I learned from this? Next time, I'm asking my neighbor to bring home some grilled chicken from Wendy's because he works at Wendy's and gets employee discounts.  Now that's lazy on the cheap and exactly what I'm looking for, and it comes with free delivery. 

I WILL Live Forever

Do you ever find yourself in the middle of a cataclysmic event with the kids, where toilet paper was unraveled throughout the house with traces of juice, shredded cheddar and squished unknown goo gluing it to the floor as the baby took a crap of epic proportion so all that goo smells like you know poo while the other 2 are fighting over an empty box you DID throw away and the sperm donor walks into the house, straight to his porcelain throne and takes a 45 minute load like nothing odd is going on?  Then, he yells out the bathroom 5 minutes later, "The kids are fighting!!!"  Men are astute, really they are, and I really mean that with all sarcasm intended. 

I write a lot of boring articles about finance, and one thing I always advise people, especially parents, is to have a will in place, and I am a hypocrite. I have no will. I'm stuck on THE question... Who would have custody of the kids in the event of my death?  Dammit, I have no clue. The husband should get them because they love their daddy and so far, knock on wood, he's been there every day in their lives, but dammit, he can't handle them by himself. I've thought about this over and over again, like Kirstie Alley thought about finding a father for her kid in Look Who's Talking, and I think the best possible solution is that I'm just not allowed to die. No matter which option for assisting my husband I try to concoct, none of it would provide my kids the life I want them to have--yeah I'm a control freak.


I wish there was some agency who rents out nuns named Maria who sing and dance to widowed men, and maybe if I stick that down in my will, they have no choice but to find one. 

But this is not the only issue many moms out there face with THE question of guardianship. Some of you moms out there might have abusive ex-husbands you DON'T want to EVER get custody.  Some of you moms might have a wife you want to get the custody of the kids instead of the child's father. The thing is, the more difficult that question is to answer, the more important it probably is you find an answer and put it down in a will.  

As for my situation, I'm currently a Pro on the subject, PRO-crastinating that is. Maybe some day the coffee will actually wake me up and turn me into being a little more PRO-active.