Very Brave

The Nobel Peace Prize, the Congressional Medal of Honor, the Purple Heart.  What do these three illustrious awards have in common?  Well, if you answered that they all reward people for brave and important work, you’d be correct.  I, however, feel that these awards leave out some of the bravest and most courageous of all people.  Who?  To get your answer look around you the next time you go shopping.  Take notice of the man (who looks as if he just got off the tractor) loitering outside the women’s dressing rooms.  For further reconnaissance, look for the wife’s pink, froo-frooey, knock off Gucci bag hanging unceremoniously from his hairy forearm.  If you’re still in doubt and getting ready to dig your mace out from the bottom of your own knock-off designer purse, look for the look of absolute pain and hopelessness sketched on the man’s face.  This, my dear readers, is proof that you are not going to be attacked in your dressing room as you’re trying to wrestle yourself out of tricky dress that looked immensely better on the mannequin.  You are simply a witness to the biggest act of bravery and courage known to man.  “The Man Shopping With His Woman”.

My husband, bless his heart, is such a man.  He often holds my knock-off purse with pride just on the off chance that those jeans I’m trying on will make my butt pop just right.  He’s a man…he’s easily pleased…what can I say.  The men I’m talking about are the poor suckers who believed their female significant other’s lie for the millionth time.  “Dear, I’m just going to be a minute.  I just want to try on one thing.”  One thing escalates into forty different outfits plus accessories.  Just watch this poor man next time.  With every outfit discarded because of pesky issues only the woman can see, you will see his face fall deeper and deeper into the abyss of man boredom.  Refrain from judging the man.  All he wants to do is go to Scheel’s to look at tents, sleeping bags and guns.

So how do we reward such chivalrous behavior?  A quick trip to the mall food court usually suffices to stem the manly whining, but I’m thinking something bigger.  A shiny trophy to place next to the picture of relationship bliss would be even better.  So, ladies, the next time you go shopping with your man, remember he is just a man.  You don’t have to get him a medal or trophy, simply reward his presence with holding your own purse.

Let Me Explain

I’m thinking to myself, why are they staring at us?  Then I realize why.  The 4 year old adorable angel I call “the oldest” looks like an after picture from a UFC fight (“the oldest” fell while trying to get himself into his car seat.  He broke his fall with his face.)  Then my mind starts racing.  Does she think I did it?  Maybe she thinks his brother did it.  If only “the youngest” would hit his brother so it takes the chastising looks away from me.  In my head I would be able to say, “See that little guy did it, not me.”  I know what it is: these people have no kids, and besides in the aisle of a store, they have had no exposure to a child.  I assume most parents understand kids spend the first 12-35 years of their lives with some sort of perpetual injury.  

Why do we as parents feel the need to explain everything our kids do?  Phrases like, “he’s never done that before”, “I’m sorry, he’s tired” and “damn it, I didn’t know he could throw that far” are examples of things we say in an attempt to justify the behavior of a no attention span, throttle on the rabbit, 35 pound bundle of curiosity who always falls head first named                            .  As parents, my wife and I find ourselves googling the admissions requirements for military boarding schools.  Did you know that there are none that accept 2 year olds?  I see an opening in the market!  The good thing is these times are fleeting.  The 2 year old who annoyed me 2 years ago is going to pre-school this fall.  He’s big enough to get himself into his own car seat (sometimes). And he has started taking pre-tests to prepare for his driving exam.  The point I’m trying to make is loosen up.  Kids are kids.  If you have a kid that won’t stop running around and throwing things while screaming take a moment before you punish them to be thankful for having a child who can do these things!  

One last thing, if you were in the Menards parking lot today around 11:30, that was not a kid being kidnapped.  “The youngest” likes Menards and doesn’t like to leave. 

Chad Berg, “guest” blogger

Anything to add?  Please comment.

“Let’s Get Physical”

What is more inspirational than listening to Olivia Newton John belting out, “Let’s get physical, physical” and seeing her in 80’s workout gear?  Nothing, really, unless of course you consider working out with my sister, Rachel, as inspiration to your workout goals.  Instead of working out in pink spandex with neon blue leg warmers, Rachel adorns herself with paint-speckled shirts and shorty-shorts.  If this is not enough to inspire me with epic-like motivation, her one-liners truly give me the energy to forge ahead into the sweaty hour which awaits me.  Quotes such as, “Oh my gosh, my shirt tastes like sh8t!” and “Might as well strap an elephant to my leg while you’re at it!” should hold prestigious places in the Workout Hall of Fame.  Did I choose Rachel as my fitness trainer?  No.  Fate simply assigned me the dorkiest, weirdest, and non-inspirational workout partner ever.

Many experts recommend having a workout buddy to hold you accountable to actually working out instead of eating a bag of Doritos while watching FitTV (I’ve been told this does not count for my daily 30 minutes of activity).  But experts hold back on a definition of a “good” workout buddy.  Should the workout buddy be a fitness Nazi who holds a jelly-filled donut at the finish line but then proceeds to eat it as you faint across the white chalk?  Or should the workout buddy be a fitness Pansy who allows you little nibbles of jelly-filled donut as you mall walk on your used treadmill?  Exactly.  No one knows.  I should, under the circumstances, fire my sister.  But as I don’t pay her and really didn’t hire her in the first place, I don’t know if I can fire her.  Besides, she lives with me…firing her could create awkward tension at the dinner table. 

I suppose I can keep her on retention; she does provide me with a chuckle here and there.  Although, there are times where my butt exercises are interrupted by episodes of ab-splitting laughter.  Talk about a multi-muscle workout.  I suppose in any form, working out with a friend or sister is better than working out alone.  So the next time you feel the urge to quality control check the Doritos while watching Chuck Norris pedal the Total Gym, call up your friend or summon your sister from the upper stratosphere of your house, don your 80s workout clothes, and pump up the volume on Olivia Newton John’s one hit wonder.

Proms are NOT For Teenagers!

Thirteen years ago, I attended my last high school prom.  Little did I know, more than a decade later, I would be going to prom again as a thirty-one-year-old mom of two boys.  Lucky for me, my date for this prom was gorgeous, really liked me, and even asked me!  After being asked romantically, “Hey, there’s this Second Chance Prom thing…did you wanna go?”, I accepted with breathless anticipation, “Sure, but who’s going to watch the boys?” 

                Now, I didn’t spend one cent on my prom dress, one of Rachel’s friends did my hair for free, and Chad “forgot” flowers, but last night’s Second Chance Prom, topped any old high school prom.  I didn’t have to worry that my date was a “pity date” or that my dress made me look chunky or if the guy I had a crush on would think I was pretty.  Instead, I rejoiced that a beautiful dress fit me like a sexy glove, my hair was cute (and free), and that the hottest firefighter in the whole frickin’ room was my date! 

                As I looked over the 400 couples attending the Codington County Cares Second Chance Prom, I noticed something.  Everyone deserves a second chance to get prom right, no matter if he/she is 21 or 81.  And make no mistake, this prom whipped a high school prom’s butt.  Every person there last night was strictly there to help people with cancer and to have a good time.  And boy did we ever! 

                So, after experiencing a great night with friends and a hottie, I’m a new believer in abolishing high school proms.  We may as well wait until we are old enough to truly enjoy prom.

                Please use the comment are to share any prom stories you treasure and or loathe.

Zits and Chin Hairs

I don’t know about you, but there is something deliciously devilish in greedily grasping for the magazine shouting from the cover, “Stars Without Make-up” or “Look Who Has Cellulite” or “Damn!  It’s Taking Her Forever to Lose That Baby-Weight”.  If you’re anything like me, as you stand in line with a cart full of groceries and two helpful toddlers attempting to put the carton of eggs on the conveyor belt, you frantically search for those pictures revealing stars to be just like “us”.  And you know what I find?  I find women who look just as beautiful without make-up and fancy hair-dos.  I find women who are holding their children, walking their dogs, or shopping with friends.  And you know something; they are more beautiful BECAUSE they are REAL in those pictures.  As I replace the magazine on the rack and simultaneously catch a falling egg, I look around me and realize that beauty surrounds us.  Everyone is beautiful in his/her own way.  Some, obviously, are more blessed than others, but everyone has something to recommend themselves.  Some might have stunning eyes; others may have long, silky hair. 

                Next time you’re in line, look at the cover picture of the featured celebrity.  Look really closely.  Here’s what you won’t find:  a single zit, chin hair, wrinkle, dark spot, dry patch, baggy eye, drooping eyelid, askew eyebrow hair, or misplaced mole.  How can this be?  Easy.  Digital photo editing.  Anybody can look stunningly gorgeous with a little computer retouching.  But my question is why.  Why do celebrities spend unmentionable amounts of money to keep up the illusion of being PERFECT?  Because society expects them to look great all the time.  I actually find it quite refreshing when an artist looks “real”.  Take for example Cate Blanchett’s cover photo on the newest issue of Intelligent Life.  She still looks gorgeous, but it’s a REAL gorgeous.  The wrinkles on her face only attest to the wonderful life she’s led.  I applaud and respect her bravery for doing such a dangerous thing.  Maybe her cover shoot has something to do with Demi Moore’s newest face sponsoring beauty brand Helena Rubinstein.  She is so photo shopped that one has to look very hard to find any resemblance to the true 49-year-old actress.  I can’t imagine being told that “You’re not young enough nor beautiful enough, so we’re going to photo shop you until you are.” 

                Frankly, dear readers, I’m tired.  I’m tired of watching young girls attempt to look as perfect as their role model’s cover shoot photos.  I’m tired of young girls not eating lunch in an attempt to achieve the body only a dedicated athlete could have.  I’m tired of young girls not knowing that they are more beautiful without all the trappings of Hollywood glamor.  What can we do to stop this run-away “beauty” train before it derails and destroys every sense of self-esteem in our young and vulnerable generation?

Please watch the following YouTube videos:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hibyAJOSW8U http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YP31r70_QNM

Cats and Water Don’t Mix

                Fifteen minutes ago I attempted to give a cat a bath.  Most of you are probably scratching your head in wonderment; I, too, am wondering what I was smoking.  Between the jaws of death and paws of destruction, I near escaped with my skin attached to my body.  But, I survived and am here to forewarn those who may someday walk down the same path.  As your blogging superhero sidekick, I consider it my duty to educate you, my dear readers, on some choices better left to the professionals or the idiots. 

Sticking your tongue on a frozen piece of metal (for a mental picture watch The Christmas Story)

Bobsledding down a flight of stairs, unless of course you want to have missing teeth.

Calling your mother when you are in a hurry.

Me: “Yeah, Mom, that’s great, but I’ve gotta go,”

Mom: “Did I mention your aunt had surgery on her bunion?”

Me: “Gotta go, Caiden is sitting on Gabriel’s head!”

Mom: “OK I’ll tell you about it later.  You should send her a card though.”

Me: Click

Sending your husband (or any male for that matter) to the store without a list.

Telling your significant other “you decide; I don’t care” when they go to the video store.  You’ll either get stuck with Rambo 25 or some sappy chick-flick.

Telling your children to go get whatever snack they want.  Marshmallows and barbeque sauce make for a wonderful healthy snack.  This is also similar to the snack a husband will concoct.

Taking a nap with a toddler who is not wearing a diaper.  You’ll think you peed yourself!

Never tell your male friend it’s ok for him to give “a buddy” of his your number.  In all fairness his tooth is a nice one!

Let your husband have access to ladders without supervision.

Never ask your husband and sister to help with a “Never Do List”…they will prove to be absolutely useless.

          So in closing, please use caution if you feel competent and physically fit enough to attack any of the above scenarios. 

I know there are many things that could be on this list that I haven’t mentioned.  Please add to my list in the comments area. 

On another note, please look for new postings on Sundays.  With crunch time at school, my schedule is extremely hectic, so I will no longer be able to post on Wednesdays.  See you next Sunday!  Have a blessed and happy week.