Do's and Don'ts of Spray on Tanning

Ok. Don't laugh. I had a wedding this weekend and I wanted to look hawt. (tee hee)

So even though I've been getting some color in the front yard, I thought I'd even it out and get just a little darker for the summer's biggest extravaganza!

Sooo, I went for a spray-on tan.
Here are some things to remember if you do get this done...

Do:

• Exfoliate, exfoliate, exfoliate
• Expect to feel sticky after the application and expect to stay that way until you shower
• Expect to get it on your clothing (and your kid if you're not careful)
  
• Wear dark, loose fitting clothes for after the application (think mu mu)
  
• Expect to feel like a fat tub-o-lard standing there nekkid with just your paper panties on
• Expect to question every decision you have ever made that led you to this procedure
• Especially when your boobahs are white as ghosts and sorta saggin' (at least in your eyes)
  
• Be careful that stuff gets everywhere
• Exfoliate
  
• Understand that you will look like an orange until you shower
• Expect to get what you pay for...you will be $60.00 lighter in the wallet, but you won't get melanoma (a small price for health I say)
• Plan the application at least two days before an event
• Plan on blowing away the little black dress you plan to wear
• Do it for any event but make sure you exfoliate
  

Don't:

• Go in a driving thunderstorm (think Jackson Pollack)
• Wear flip flops in said rainstorm or step in gigantic puddles
  
• Expect brain surgeons to be working at the salon
• Go in a hawty-tawty neighborhood, they sneer
• Expect the salon workers to giggle at you (at least not to your face)
• Shower for eight hours after the application
  
• Let one ounce of water touch your skin for eight hours after the application
• Sweat...ever
• Forget to exfoliate
  
• Wear a mu mu in a driving rainstorm with your flip flops although on a sunny day it would be perfecto
• Pay more than $60.00 for the treatment...it may not be worth it
• Go the night before a big event
• Be surprised by the compliments you will receive for looking like you just got back from St. Tropez
• Expect your husband to keep his hands to himself...(rowr)
  
• PANIC...it's not THAT bad
• Be surprised if you don't exfoliate
  

Just my 19th Nervous Breakdown

I find myself digging deep within myself for patience these days.

I notice that I am talking myself through the most mundane tasks in order not to lose my cool over silly things. However, it's not working. I'm pissed all the time. And my fuse is burnt to a crisp.

"OK J...she's 3, it WILL take her a half an hour to brush her teeth and you'll be lucky she actually skims a tooth with her toothbrush..."

"This is normal J, she has to question you...she's curious."

"But she only walks at a turtle's pace because she has smaller legs than you and she is taking it all in..."

"But breakfast isn't really the most important meal of the day..is it?" "As long as she's eating something!!"

"Of course its all about her...you've made it that way for her entire life...you can't expect her to deal with sharing your time now." (Just the other day...I asked Girl to please crawl out of my buttcrack because I needed to talk to her...) She giggled. I wanted to cry.

Why am I finding it so hard to do the easy tasks of each day?

Why am I losing patience with the three year old, who really is only being three? (...and quite a terrific three at that!)

I mean really...How easy is it to be with someone on a continuous loop 24 hours a day 7 days a week without losing it once in a while?

...No matter how much your heart is overflowing with love for that person.

Even people who work three jobs and 95 hours a week get a break from their co-workers once in a while.

(NO, I don't want to go to work!)

Why can't I ever keep the house presentable? And why is the floor/sink/laundry/dog always dirty?

Why can't I call that kid's mother for a playdate when I know Girl loves the friggin' kid...but I just don't wanna be bothered?

Why then, do I complain that I have no mommy friends and no one to hang out with?

Why do I find it so hard to stay happy?

Not get happy.

Stay happy. Stay calm, balanced and just content.

What is the problem?

2 more days

Maybe I'm just a really extra sensitive person. I never thought I was. But I guess I am.

Everything makes me cry.

Is it getting older? Does that make you more sensitive?

Does PMS get worse as the years go by?

It can't always be THE HAT TRICK can it? I hafta get used to this sooner or later right?

Dunno?!

I am extra possessive and protective over my men. Don't mess with me there...

And I am like a raging lunatic to protect my kid.

Nothing has happened. I'm just waiting with my back up. For something, anything to send me reeling into a tizzy...I'm ready to rip someones head off if they look at me the wrong way.

And I'm tense. Extra tense. I've been going back to the chiropractor (God love him) and he's been trying (in vain) to loosen up the gargantuan knot in my spine.

Blogging truly is my therapy and I haven't even been posting regularly. I've been reading a lot of my blogroll and trying to comment but that isn't helping either...Hmmm...Now I know somethings up.

You know, everyone always thinks of J as this easy-going and calm...roll off your back like water off a duck's ass type-o chick...But it's the people who know me (the 3 or 4 of you) that know I keep it all inside. I tense up more and more the more shit I hold inside and I literally explode in one way or another.

Crying, yelling, throwing the remote...But I always do it when I'm alone.

I think I need to explode.

But herein lies the problemo.

I'm never alone.

And I will NOT explode in front of the Girl. Even though I have been extra edgy with her too these days. She is starting to think I may be Dr. Jekyll and Mrs. Hyde...

Then I look at the calendar and I realize the calendar reads June 28th...Two more days till July and my three months of mourning is over...for now. I did nothing to remember Mom on the 25th like I thought I wanted to...But I guess I did what my subconscious wanted me to. I did go back to the chiropractor for the first time that day....Was she pushing me to?

Or do I need some serious meds/detox/work out to chill me out again?

Probably.

Thanks for listening.

Nice Surprise...

I got a note in the mail today.

It's from my old Teacher's Assistant from one of my fourth grade classes. "Ms. R."

It was so nice to hear from her. She sent me her twin daughter's HIGH SCHOOL graduation pictures...Yikes. I'ma gettin' old.

When I met them, they just entered Junior High...Now they are going off to college! How does that happen?

She reminded me that time flies so quickly and that I should be savoring all my moments with the Stinks. I do. I honestly do.

Got me to thinking.

*****Look out*****SappyStuff Ahead******Gotta Tissue?******

How much fun I'm having with my little girl. It's a blast!

I am so lucky to be home with her, watching her grow and mature. Helping her find her place in this world one day at a time.

One step. Each day. Getting closer to her becoming a big girl. A woman.

And, in each step I'm losing my baby.

But I tell her every day.

No matter what, she will always be my baby girl.
When she's 36 and married with her own kids...she'll still be my baby girl.

Forever.

When she is fighting me for her independence and I am having a hard time letting go...When she begs to sleep over a friend's house but I refuse, when she hates me for grounding her or taking away her car keys...I hope she knows I do it all because I love her and want to protect her from hurt.

But I also want to help her find her independence and inner-strength. And I am struggling with that.

I wish on shooting stars, pennies with their heads up, eyelashes. I wish on birthday candles and I pray to something higher that my little girl becomes the empowered woman she deserves to be.

Because she was meant for something special. I feel it in my bones. My gut. That she is meant for great things...

I just hope she knows I love her unconditionally. And I have her back. Forever.

Happy Summer?

So, how important is your uterine wall anyways?

'Cause according to my multitude of sonograms today...mine is "extremely thick"...

And what are polyps and how do they go away?

Oh, and whodathunk that it was difficult to pee....Lordy.
Ah, childbirth.

Damn you Google!

Still feel like crap. Testing to be determined???

Oh, and Happy Summer.

Like Father, like.....husband

I posted this on the Blog Exchange...But I wanted to have it here (home) too for my special men.

****************************
They always say you wind up marrying a man like your father.

I never believed it until I met and married The Pro.

My dad is the coolest, calmest most laid back man you could ever meet. He cares deeply for the people he loves, has a hard time showing it, but you know it when you are one of those people.

He would do anything for you if it meant it would bring you happiness. He is selfless and giving and never puts himself first.

When Dad laughs you can't help but laugh right along with him because his giggle in infectious and his eyes always tear up when he laughs too hard...just like me.

As soft and gentle as he is, don't mess with him. He'll bring you down if he has to. Especially when it comes to his daughter! He's one tough cookie and was known to be a real "bad boy" when he was a teenager. Ooh, he was so cute!

I always admired him. Always. I have always felt a certain comfort knowing he had my back and I always knew I was safe. He protected me, sheltered me (a little too much) but allowed me to grow as an independent woman. Even today, I know I can go to Dad with anything troubling me and he'll be there to help. And hug.

He was a Mother and a Father to me for most of my life and I cherish his strength and perseverance even in the hardest of times.

He was the role model I followed when it came to finding my husband. Yes, I bumped into a bunch of 'Bad Boys' in my day too, but ultimately I married a man that has all of Dad's best qualities and more.

Pro is gentle and kind and sarcastic as hell. He is smart as a whip and sassy and extremely loving.

He would do anything in this world to make me and Girl happy. He is selfless and giving and wishes the world for "his girls". Whatever it is we need, he provides...no questions asked.

Pro is a hard worker for his girls and shows us love and affection a thousand times over to make sure we know he loves us.

He respects us as women and would never mistreat us. He shows Girl the right way to treat a woman by being kind and gentle and caring to her mother. We have him as a provider, protector, soul mate and father and we are the two luckiest ladies ever.

My two men are not exactly the same, but their motives for doing things and their gigantic hearts are quite similar. How did I get so lucky? To have such wonderful men in my life? To be able to show Girl how a true "man" should behave? To let her grow up with the best male role models the world can give her? How did we get so lucky?

Happy Father's Day to the two most important men in our lives. Daddy “Papa” and Pro. We love you both dearly.

When I was little...I used to watch this and always think about my "Daddy Dear"...



It always seemed like a conversation we'd have...I think Girl and Pro would too...

Thinking Schminking

Guys, guys guys....I'm sorry that some of you are confused about yesterday's post...That wasn't me. That was Jenn...It was part of a blog exchange for the month of June.

Do you think for one second, I'd be that poised and in control if I, (anxiety Mom) was going back to work in a few short days...Plus, I live in NY...Not Canada.

I'd be dying if I had to go back to work this week...Jenn is a wonderful and lucky Mamma and I was honored to have her post here yesterday...Good Luck Jenn! I send you many wonderful wishes for your husband and your Magpie. And I send you strength for your return to work!

***************************************
Now,

Devilsh Southern Belle tagged me for this Thinking Blogger Award...


But I am so confused. I was tagged for this a while back by someone who I unfortunately can't remember...

And before that I was tagged again for it...

That makes three times since April.

And I can't for the life of me remember who that second nominator was.

I am so honored. Corny? Nah! I make people think, laugh, cry...feel for me. Is it sympathy? Is it happiness? Is is just plain friendship? It's coolness what ever it is.

And whatever it is, I'm happy to do it.

I'm blogging for a year and I love it with a passion. And my blogroll is the reason why...

I thank you, Belle! But, I just don't even know if I should tag five people, ten people or fifteen people for that matter...So I'll just leave it here with my humbled gracias!

Daddy Duty

In a few short – very short – days, I will be returning to work and handing over the reigns, the control and what passes for the schedule to the father of my child. After one year of maternity leave [god, or whomever, bless the Canadian system], my husband is chomping at the bit for his entitled thirty-seven weeks off to spend with our daughter.

And while I know, in my head, that he’ll do fine – more than fine – that my little girl will be well fed, be read to, played with and spoiled rotten, I’m not sure that the rest of me quite believes it yet. I have just spent the past year in 24/7 mommy, never mind the previous 9 months involvement: how can someone else step into that?

My husband has, though, been planning this time with his child since he convinced me way back in 2004 that it really was a good time to start trying to have a baby. He probably has a litany of activities lined up as well as stories and songs that he has been perfecting over the last twelve months. I will not be surprised if, by the time Father’s Day coincidentally rolls around, my little girl will look at me with an expression of only vague remembrance and I will be relegated to boobs and bathing only. And answering panicked phone calls to recall where the soothers, boots and coats are stored. [it’s already happened…]

While, yes, part of that is my fear of returning to work – something that I otherwise am looking very much forward to – part of that is simply the fact that my husband is an amazing father. He has been right in there since day one and has wanted to be. Diapers, dishes, upset tummies – he’s done them all. No hesitation and only the occasional question. I know that, as far as he is concerned, his Father’s Day will be perfect because he gets this time to be a stay at home dad, but I’m going to have to make sure he knows how much that’s appreciated – by both of us.

Maybe I’ll have GPS locators installed on all the soothers.

**********

Jenn is mom to the Magpie and wife to Mr.Q – both of whom receive frequent mention on Quarter Rest. She is appearing here today thanks to Janet’s benevolence and as part of the Blog Exchange – be sure to stop by Quarter Rest and read Janet’s post on fatherhood!

I'm all cried out...over poo.

Since it's my one year blogging anniversary and all. I've been thinking. Alot.

I've been thinking mostly that it has also been one year that I started trying to get Girl to go on the pot.

ONE

WHOLE

YEAR.

365 DAYS!

Of Potty Training.

This is my 413th post.

I have 21 posts...now 22...about the potty.

I have 31 posts referring to doodie.

and...I have 4 posts that talk about the bunghole. (Check my archives)

Can you see where my head is at? For a year. A whole shit-filled year. It's been lingering in the toilet. My head. The Toilet.

I give up.

For my one year bloggiversary, I J, the so-called-Mom of the Year do solemnly swear to give up talking, posting, writing, thinking or even for that matter using the potty. (Wait! Scratch that last one...I gotta go pee)...

Kay, I'm back.

No really, I mean it. I'm done. I'm not gonna talk about it. Anymore.

At all.

At least until the daughter of the so-called MOY (also known here as Girl) decides the time is right and actually graces her princess potty with the softness that is her buttcheeks.

Once the darling little Girl makes up her mind that placing her fluffy-arse on her plastic pot is THE WAY to go...I refuse to discuss the matter further.

And that's that. Period.

Signed,
J, the Quitter

Now, I am sure you are all delighted to read this.

Go on about your business.

And thank you for bearing witness to my newest development.

It's all happenin' at the zoo...

We went to the Bronx Zoo yesterday with one of Girl's friends "S" from school and his mom "G". She loves this boy! She had such a blast she didn't want to say goodbye to him at the end of the day.

My little girl just might be doin' some serious crushin' on this boy.

Girl after my own heart.

Sometimes I just don't understand her though.

To view the Congo exhibit, you have to drop your stroller off at a 'parking area' because its a fire hazard to bring it into the exhibit with you. (I'm still not sure what they do for wheelchairs, but that's another rant) Girl would NOT let go of the stroller. Like it was polyester gold. She was not havin' it. She refused to go into the exhibit without the farking stroller. So we couldn't go in. S and G wanted to see it but they wouldn't go in without us. What a shame. I was pissed.

So we went on with our day...and I had to calm down...(What's with he lack of patience there sweetheart?)

Then, later on at Tiger Mountain, you had to leave your stroller back and she did so with a smile! What the fuck? She is such a hormonal female. Ugh.

The butterfly exhibit was our favorite.

"Snackers"

And she loved these photo statues. She didn't want to leave here.

The day was long and busy and hot, and believe it, we got lost and had to drive through the "Boogie Down Bronx" to get to the zoo but we had a great time. To top it all off, Girl has a new friend that she truly likes to play with and I have a mom I can talk to.

G got me to calm down about our potty training dilemma too. It has come to the point where I have taken away all of the privileges Girl loves unless she pots. And I am stressed beyond belief. Girl could care less.

"I won't go water the plants with Daddy, oh well."
"I can't go swimming in the pool...kay. "
"I can't watch Tom and Jerry, maybe next time"....

She told me to give Girl back the power and when she wants to use the pot, she'll let me know. Just change her without a word about it and move onto other things. Don't mention the pot. Don't ask if she has to go. Don't look at her funny when she smells like shit. And don't threaten.

Damnit I hope this works. But didn't I do this once before?

Yes, but I can't get that 'time limit' off my brain. That idea that she has to pot by a certain age. I do not want this kid in pull ups at five years old damnit. I just don't know what to do.

I'm not leaving this post talking about potty.
Isn't this gorgeous?

They fly right to you and land right on you...Love it.

Oh! And if you're still reading....Wish me a Happy Blogiversary too...I've been bloggin' baby for one whole year.

*Cue the music*...
Happy Blogiversary to meeeeeeeeeee...

And if you're bored...go read some archives...You know you want to. I was such a nerdfart.