Uh Oh!

Oh joy.  So my family has discovered I have a blog.  Not like this is monumental news.  This is a very selfish place where I let out a few hiccups.  Nothing major.   Though, I have a confession.  Those knobby knees in the Car Guy post belong to my oldest son. 

This is just a place where I put those random thoughts.  Nothing embarrassing...though I could go there if I wanted too....Captain Underpants....but this is about me and my world. Yes, they are a part of this, but this is the one place where I take center stage.  I don't play second fiddle to any one and any one who is a mom and wife knows exactly what I mean. 

Something happens when a woman gets married and has children....We loose ourselves. We become some one's wife or mother, but that thing that made us uniquely ourselves disappears.  We loose our identity.  I'm not saying this is a bad thing, just one of those things that happens.  I truly love my husband and children and I wouldn't trade them for anything.  But sometimes I wonder what happened to me.  What happened to that trippy, dippy, hippy chick that was a lot of fun?  Did I get mired down in day to day life and loose what made me special? I've actually discovered that I haven't lost anything.  I've been enriched.  I have more dimensions (no I'm not talking about the ninja pounds)....I've become more in depth.  There is now more to Me than meets the eye. I'm not some aging hippy.  I'm a mom.  I make sure homework gets done and tests get passed and there is food on the table and love in their hearts.  I'm a more enriched person and so are they.  I lost a little, but I gained so much more than I ever thought. And man, is that cool or what?

Ninja Pounds - Thanks Kelly!

This is dedicated to my new friend Kelly.  She introduced me to a phrase that I just love....Ninja Pounds - because they are sneaky and stealthy.

I have 20 ninja pounds I can't seem to get rid of.  Where did they come from?  My whole life, I was one of those skinny people.  You know, the one that everybody hated.  It didn't matter what I ate, I stayed skinny.  Until about a year ago.  I started gaining weight for no apparent reason.  I didn't change my diet.  I was never one for eating huge quantities at one time.  I'm a nibbler - a little bit here and there throughout the day.  This seemed to work for me.  My life style didn't change.  My activity level didn't change.  But everything else, like my butt, was changing.  It started growing.  The first few pounds weren't a problem.  I'm 5'8' and I weighed (past tense) 135 pounds.  I could use a little weight.  But it didn't stop. Those ninja pounds kept sneaking up on me and before I knew it I weighed 160 pounds.  How did this happen?  It turns out that my female organs weren't working.  I wasn't producing estrogen anymore.  So not only was I gaining weight, but I was acting like a complete loon.  One minute, I was my normal happy, go lucky self (seriously, I'm pretty laid back) and the next minute,  I was a bitter, sarcastic, hateful old hag.  I was scaring my family and myself.  So I went to the doctor, had the vile, non working, offensive organs removed.  But you know what?  Those ninja pounds decided they wanted to stick around....talk about vile and offensive!

That was six months ago.  I've managed to get rid of 5 ninja pounds but that is probably just water.  I've given up soft drinks - oh how I'd love a Dr. Pepper.  I've started walking - translates to torture - almost every evening after dinner.  I don't really enjoy it, I wish I did.  I just haven't found the form of exercise that I like. I'm eating sensible food...not a problem, I've always done that.  I'm not eating less because I didn't eat a lot to begin with.  It's all very frustrating.  I know that if I slack off and look over my shoulder, those sneaky, stealthy ninja pounds are waiting to attach attack my behind.  I mean seriously, are we supposed to look over our shoulder, look down and actually see our own behind? How much "cushion" does someone need?

It's all good.  I'm planning my own sneak attack.  I've decided that ninja warfare is mental and all my friends know I'm mental.  If I don't mind, it doesn't matter.  Those ninja pounds aren't really there.  If I think hard enough, I'll "will" them away. If you see me walking down the street, talking to someone over my shoulder and there's no one there...Don't worry, I'm just letting the ninja pounds know that I'm aware of them and I know they are following me, waiting for their next chance to sneak attack. I will not be defeated.   And as I do this, please let me know when those ninjas in the little white jackets try to sneak up behind me to lock me away because I've finally gone of the deep end.

Car Guy

I married a car guy.  I like cars, don't get me wrong.  There are some I even love, like the E-Type Jaguar (Simply the most beautiful car EVER made).  But it's different with a car guy.  They don't like cars.  They don't love cars.  They are obsessive about cars.  My husband can go to a car show and tell you the make and model of every car there...from the ones we all recognize, like a 1965 Mustang to the Lamborghini Gallarado LP 550-2 Vallentino Balboni (yes, I had to look that up).  I know that the first car is an American Classic.  Honestly, who doesn't.  I know that the second is an Italian Super Car.  It costs an insane amount of money and goes REALLY fast and my husband would say that it is a very sexy car.  I personally don't think that it is as sexy as the E-Type, but as with all forms of art, taste is subjective.  And one thing I have learned over the last 20 years with my husband is that a beautiful car is most definitely a piece of art.  Anyone who appreciates beauty can appreciate the beautiful lines on a car, the shapes, curves, planes, etc.

His latest obsession is a recently purchased 1972 Porsche 914.  This little car gets looks where ever it goes.  Being that I'm not a "car guy"  I can't tell you how many were manufactured (not made), how rare they are, what a fully restored one would bring at auction.  I have no clue.  I do know this.  That car is fun.  Not drive like a super car fun, just fun.  If you've never seen one, I'll try to post my first picture (this should be fun).

(Woohoo!  Success !)
It's a convertible and let's face it, the car is 38 years old, so she needs a little cosmetic surgery.  A face lift, if you will.  She was originally a dark green, but someone in her past decided she needed to be red.  She wants to be dark green again.  And then there is the crack in the front windshield.  That needs to be fixed too.  She's temperamental too.  She doesn't like cold, early mornings.  It takes her a while to warm up and get going.  If you're not careful, she might randomly pop out of fourth gear for no apparent reason.  And the seats....black vinyl.  Ugh. Hot, melting hot when the top is out.  And, according to my husband, the valves need adjustment about every 3000 miles....Okay.....if  you say so Honey.  But look at her....she's unique and fun.

My husband likes to compare me to the car.  He'd NEVER say that I need a face lift. He has more sense than that, but I don't like mornings.  It takes me a while to get warmed up and moving.  I can be temperamental too.  I might randomly pop out of gear for no apparent reason.  Especially if I haven't had enough coffee. I don't have valves that need adjusting, however a good glass of wine does wonders for my temperament. I've thought about this a lot and honestly, for a car guy to compare me to his latest obsession is really quite flattering.  I'm unique and fun and after 20 years, he still thinks I'm beautiful....a classic....I am one lucky woman.  I think I'll keep them both.

Gleek

OK.  I have an confession.  I am such a Gleek.  I absolutely LOVE the show Glee.  Every note warbling, dork out, sing along moment.  I so totally understand the whole out cast thing.  I've lived in my home town pretty much my whole life - with brief excursions to a neighboring town that is a whole 15 to 20 minutes away.  I wouldn't say that I'm an outcast, but I don't always fit in.  I'm very opinionated and am not afraid to speak my mind. That's not always a good thing.  I also can have quite a potty mouth (I'm working on it! No, really, I am!)  This can offend people too.  I march to the beat of my own drum and it is LOUD.  I've always done that, it just took adulthood for me to find my comfort zone with it.  All that being said, I still long for friends and to fit in.  I don't care how loudly any one protests, we all want to be popular.  We all want to fit in some how, some way. We all want acceptance.  So I totally get that side of the show.  I don't fit in and I want to.   I'm too tall, too loud, too opinionated, just too too.  It also shows that deep inside all of us, including the Sue Sylvesters, there is good, understanding, compassion and hope...and we are all beautiful.  We are all Cheerios in our own right and way. We all have our good traits and bad traits, but we are all worth getting to know. The only thing the show has that I don't have is the singing.  I LOVE THE SINGING.  Especially since I can't carry a tune in a bucket....I really can't.  Just ask anyone who's heard me attempt.  In high school, I was singing along with the radio while I took my shower one morning, at the top of my lungs of course, and my mother came to check on me because she thought I was getting sick.  My sweet son, when he was a baby, liked for me to sing to him before he went to bed or if he had a bad dream.  "Rainbow Song, Mommy," he'd ask. (You know, "Some where over the rainbow.....")  One night, my sweet cherubic 2 year old asked for the "Rainbow Song" and before I'd even finished the first line he said "Mommy  not sing."  Guess it wasn't so comforting any more.  OK, so I can't sing.  But in my head I make Rachel and Mercedes sound like babies.  In my head, I rock!  But don't we all?  That's the point.  In some way, shape or form, we ALL rock.  We just have to take the time to find that in everyone.  Pretty cool, huh?