Tough Bitch

photo from here

“Uuuuggghh,” I uttered.

“I know,” said Jen.

We sat in the uncalled-for bright room, victim to our hangovers. Trying to concentrate on whatever god-awful daytime television show was on.

Because we knew it would all begin again soon, Jen and I had margaritas in our hands. A special recipe shared among our friends.

I was ecstatic to have Jen visiting me in Iowa. This was the era known as pre-child, pre-Colorado, pre-30’s. Ahhh, the life of a 20-something…and my husband and I were in the midst of many celebratory parties – farewells and good-byes before our big move to Colorado.

I looked over at Jen. She slowly looked over at me.

“Jen,” I started, a bit dramatically. “Could you please do me a really big favor,” I said as I mustered my most pitiful expression. This kind of expression works if you have loyal and lovely friends like Jen.

“What?” was all she said, a little put out. Who wouldn’t be put out a little bit when being requested to assist in a big favor while monumentally hung over?

“Will you please get me some ibuprofen?” I asked sweetly. “I will love you forever.”

Jen smiled and said, “Yes.” Like I said, she is a good, dear friend.

Jen rummaged around in my room and then brought me the ibuprofen. She then sat with a sigh on the couch. I’m sure it took all the energy she had to perform this task for me. I had not the heart to tell her that I needed water. There was no way I was going to stand and do anything for myself. I grabbed my untouched glass of margarita, took a giant swig, and swallowed my ibuprofen at once.

“Ugh,” I said after it was over. “I just took those ibuprofen with my margarita.”

“I know,” Jen says. “I thought about getting you some water, but I didn’t because I thought, ‘Ack, Kristy will take these with margarita. She’s a tough bitch.’”

“Yes,” I said, agreeing. “Thank you.”

Trust

I know I enjoy F bombs and moments of crude hilarity.

(Mickey Mouse, closet smoker)

But, I am a complex gal. I also am sensitive, sentimental, and reflective. My mind endlessly entertains and challenges me. It is my best friend and my worst enemy. Recently, I have been lucky enough to have moments of meditation. I highly recommend it. Meditation. It's not as kooky as it sounds.



What I have come to focus on right now is Trust.



If I begin to worry or think of WHAT IS NEXT and WHAT HAPPENS NEXT, I remind myself to trust. Trust that I have everything I need in the moment. Trust that it's all going to be alright. Trust that contentedness is enough. Trust that the universe is taking care of me as I move through my day and inhabit the spaces of the home I've created. Trust in kindness.

I have sent out an invitation for trust to come to me and be with me through all the mundane decisions a day can bring.

I hope the same for you.

Little Kid, Big Trouble

Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop prompt: Write about a time you got in BIG trouble when you were a child.


Someone had ratted us out. Someone broke under pressure and told an ADULT what we had done.

I was in big trouble. For the first time in my life. Big trouble.

This kind of stuff didn’t happen to me. It happened to my brother. How would I live through it? The shame was overwhelming.

In a huff, the P.E. teacher marched us out through the hot, grassy field to the new gym equipment that had been installed at the school. All of us, a small group of fourth graders, hung our heads as we went to fess up to our wrong-doing.

Once we got to the wooden climbing wall, we each had to identify what we had written in ink pen.

The gym teacher barked orders at us. “Before I give you a piece of sand paper, I’ve got to tell you. I don’t think this is going to work. You wrote in INK PEN. If you are not able to get the writing off, you are going to have to PAY A LOT OF MONEY to replace this. This is BRAND NEW equipment that costs a lot of money. You better hope the sand paper works!”

The worst part for me was identifying what I had written. I had the longest, the most foul, and the worst of all the graffiti to claim. At the time I wrote it, I only felt the most clever. Now, I felt the most vile.

Thankfully, the sand paper worked.

Next stop was the front office. We were each taken into the principal’s office one by one, yelled at, and told to call our parents and tell them what we wrote.

I cried the entire time I waited for my turn.

I cried in the principal’s office.

When I got on the phone with my mom, I cried so hard I could not say what I had written.

That night, at home, my brother was very, very happy. So pleased to see the goody-goody sister in trouble. This was a special occasion.

My parents were trying to decide my punishment. Grounded for a week? No TV? No phone?

My dad asked me about what I wrote. “Where did you hear that? Who told you that?!”

“Scott (my brother) told me! It was a punch line to a joke he tells!” I exclaimed. It was the truth, but I was more than happy to try and shift the focus off of me for a moment.

“Go to your room. Both of you!” My dad told both my brother and me. My brother was infuriated to be part of a punishment that was FINALLY supposed to be mine.

To this day, I will never forget the punch line of that joke. I will never forget the whole joke. It is burned in my memory forever.

“I’m a mean mother fucker from Sesame Street gonna kick your ass from street to street.”

I'd Mom Date Toy Story's Mom

If you are like me and have seen almost every single Pixar or Dreamworks movie at least 8,673,259 times (a rough estimate), then you can relate to some of the following:

-Noticing little details so that you are a Pixar-connoisseur of sorts. For example, the "flies" that buzz around in Cars are VW Bugs.

-Actually quoting movies in meetings at work. I have blurted out in a meeting once (in the style of Buzz Lightyear in Toy Story 1), "WHAT are you talking about?"

-Deeply appreciating (only the first 561 times) the fact that the people who created the movies are adults and must know that parents are desperate for adult humor to be part of all kid movies (e.g., any Shrek movie, Barbie saying to Ken in Toy Story 3, "Nice Ass-cot.").

But, I actually had a NEW thought tonight while watching a Pixar great. The Toy Story mom seems like a rockin' chick. I'd like to kick back a few with her. She's thinking, "Andy's at Cowboy Camp. Time for a garage sale!" She's all, "Andy's going to college! CLEAN the room out!"

photo from here

So then I got to thinking, what about other, seemingly minor, characters in these movies?

Who are the hidden gems?

-The three friends at the beginning of the movie Monsters Vs. Aliens. You know the ones: the inhaler girl, the coffee girl, and the camera girl. What are they all about? I sense entire lost footage which these three.

-The east coast pigeons on Bolt. What a riot!

photo from here

-Talk about a character - how about the dentist's daughter on Finding Nemo? Imagine what the teachers say at school about that one. I love her shirt. The details make the funny.

photo from here

-EDNA! On the Incredibles. LUV her. She's a superhero fashion designer, testing bullet proof suits on crawling babies.

-I think Lightning McQueen's agent, Harv, has some stories to tell. He could spill the beans on all the slutty Mini Coopers and Mustangs that he works for in Hollywood.

-Frank, the combine bull in Cars, is a well-loved character in our home. He was a treasure that I was able to find online and order for Christmas last year. My family could not believe how excited my son was to have Frank. They didn't even know who he was! He is quite an angry dude. I don't know what his story is, but I'm sure it involves a troubled past.

photo from here

What about you? Any characters out there lurking in the shadows of the movies you watch? Or, am I, as I have always suspected, a whack job with an over-active imagination? Don't leave me hanging...

Happy Parents?

I’ve heard some interesting truths about happiness lately. Particularly, happiness in relation to parenting.

Parenthood magazine recently reported that 53% of moms are satisfied with the state of their mental and emotional health.

Only 53% are simply “satisfied.”

I had heard of the statistic before that says people with children are NOT more likely to be happy than people without children. But, I had not yet heard about this:

On an Oprah show about happiness, it was shared that parents report the most happiness when their children turn 18. When children turn 18, then happiness finally exceeds those of people who do not have children.

Fifteen years to go for me, people! How many for you?

Of course I’m not waiting fifteen years to be happy – there is MUCH happiness now! It takes a trained eye to notice it though and give it appreciation.

What I find important about these studies is that people should not assume that just having a child will make them happier. It is hard work. HARD.

Yet, even the most stressed, harried, sleep deprived, and I’ve-HAD-IT-up-to-here parent will tell you that at the end of the day, when the monster is finally sleeping, you love the little booger with all your heart and you cannot stop from smiling just thinking of him.

Happy? Sometimes. Tired? Yes. Worth it? Definitely.

Blurred Edges

I had the apartment to myself. Well, almost. Everyone else was sleeping. I had just returned from my early morning class. The only thing enjoyable about having an early morning class was coming back to the quiet apartment and having some silence to myself. With nights full of people, laughter, music, and other illegal activities, I needed the alone time. I have an insatiable need for it.

People marveled at my ability to take care of my shit, like get my ass out of bed for an early class, amidst all the late nights and hangovers.

Something drove me out of that bed. Something drove me to do what needed to be done, graduate on time, and graduate with Magna Cum Laude honors.

Something drove me besides the big, yellow Vivarin pill I took with my coffee on my walk to class. Something drove me besides the nicotine in my veins, puffing as I strolled among mountains in the Flagstaff morning.

Slowly, slowly, my friends dropped out of school one by one. But, I wanted it all. The late nights, all the fun to be had AND the good grades and a future career.

My life at the time was a give and take, a yin and yang. Wild nights, quiet mornings. Darkness in the evening, responsibility in the day.

I lay back on the couch, watching the smoke swirl through the room by the light of the window. It hung there with nowhere to go. I had just smoked my last cigarette and crushed it in the ashtray. Soon, I would begin picking out the cigarettes that had a little bit left to give and relight them, so I would have something to smoke.

Everyone was sleeping. Soon, it would all begin again.

This was a memoir piece for The Red Dress Club in response to this picture:

Gratitude Adjustment

My blog has been a little neglected in the last week because of something that happens every year – the month of May. Many events all occur in quick succession, causing a whirlwind of celebrating and eating. Then on days like today, a Sunday, I run around like a chicken with my head cut off (or a mummy whose head fell off, whichever you prefer) and try to satisfy desperate urges to untangle power cords, bake bread, and get out the sewing machine because all pants with uneven hems must be fixed NOW.

Ugh.

I want a day off work.

But no. I will keep marching on and finish this damn school year, hanging on to sanity by a thread.

I think a little gratitude would do me some good right now. Here is what I’m grateful for:

photo from here

-Right now, in this moment, I am not sick. No head cold, no cough, and now I will go knock on wood.

-Right now, in this moment, my son is not sick. He is napping.

-A rainy day is making the world a little more green outside. Free water for the plants from God!

-I am grateful to be one year older.

-Which reminds me, I am grateful for swimsuits that have attached skirts.

How about you? What’ve you been up to? What’re you grateful for?

Summer Fever (Post-It Note Tuesday)

I am linking up with Only Parent Chronicles for Post-It Note Tuesday!

Love in the Time of May

This is the first year that my son really grasps holidays. This morning, he gave me a big, cheesy smile and a loud, "Happy Mother's Day!" that melted my heart. He drew me a big, red heart on giant paper.

(May I also say that this morning, for the first time ever, my son got out of his own bed, came in our bedroom, and saw us still sleeping - my eyes were shut but I was awake. He gave a little Gasp! and then ran back to his room and climbed back into bed! What a good boy.)

May is a very busy time. It is also a time of a lot of celebration for some pretty spectacular women.

My mom's birthday, my best friend's birthday, and my birthday are all within ten days of each other in May, AND it is Mother's Day for all of us.

We are some bitchin' broads. And Taurus to boot!

Here is the Taurus horoscope for today on Astrology.com:

Your capacity for contentment is enormous, even if you are sometimes unfulfilled. Today brings a deep sense that everything is okay, no matter what’s really going on. Work with it — you won’t be sorry.

I like that. Everything is going to be ok. Off to enjoy the day!

I Love Those Crazy Bitches

Boy, do I love me some Real Housewives drama. I shamelessly watch every episode and hang on every unflattering verbal attack. I have blogged about it before here and here. It is amazing how grown women can act when they have way too much money and time on their hands. It is like the woman’s version of WWF – “In THIS corner, we have the crazy-eyed Ramona-coaster!"

photo from here

In THIS corner, we have the unstable and confused Kelly! Whose side are you on?!” And, yes, I do take sides. (Any side Kelly is NOT on. She’s a WHAK-A-DOO.)

photo from here

I may enjoy watching it, but I know I’ll never be eligible to actually be on one of the Real Housewives show for these 10 reasons:

1. I just eat my pizza, whole shit loads of it at a time, and drink my wine without worrying about booking one of these fat burning machines while I eat it.

photo from here

photo from here

2. My child hears the word “No.”

3. I do not have a personal budget line for Botox maintenance. I wear my age/sun spots and wrinkles proudly. I guess.

4. There is no “staff” at my house. Only these very helpful sorts.







5. If there is no “staff” at my house, I certainly do not have people coming over to do my hair and make-up so that I may go to a dinner party, fashion show, or what have you. No, I push my color jobs as far as I can so that I only have to budget for my haircut and color about every 3-4 months (to the constant chagrin of my hairdresser at the local salon).

6. I have friends that I can meet for lunch, and I am welcomed with open arms. I do not meet my friends with fear of being attacked or having my hair pulled.

photo credit here

7. When I invite someone over for dinner, I have actually cooked the food. No celebrity chef was hired to cook in my kitchen. I’m a celebrity in my own damn kitchen.



8. My house is not in foreclosure.

9. The sole purpose of my existence is not to make snarky comments at other women at parties, judge others mercilessly, nor gossip endlessly about my “friends.” It’s only a small part of my existence.

photo from here

10. I am too afraid to have video cameras around while drinking copious amounts of wine.

photo from here

I just had to do one more. For good measure.

11. I would never think that this is a good idea. (Phaedra's pregnancy portraits with The Pickle)

photo from here

For Mama Kat’s Writer’s Workshop. Tell your Top 10 reasons you could not be a housewife of any county.

Fun with Meet Me on Monday

Internet was down at our house this weekend, so I had the unfortunate experience of not having much to do. Now it is hectic Monday, and I want so badly to catch up on things! I have decided to participate with Java for Meet Me on Monday.



Questions:

1. What is your favorite kind of muffin?

I don't really care about muffins. The only reason why I would eat one is if I had coffee to go with it. I choose...Coffee Cake Muffin!

2. What was the first car you ever owned?

A 1986 6000 LE Pontiac. Yeah, Baby! I drove that thing into the ground too.



3. Which TV Show were you sad to see end?

Sopranos. That was a fun show. And, you know, I quite enjoyed Temptation Island. How come that one didn't last??



4. What is your lucky number?

I don't have one.

5. Pretzels or Potato Chips?

Chips! I love all the "o's." Doritos, Cheetos, Fritos!