Baggy elephant ankles.

So this is probably the ninth or tenth time I've started to blog only to be interrupted, loose focus, be distracted, think of something more pressing, get a phone call, text message, email, IM or random communications that demand my time or attention.

But I am hoping to make that up to you all now.

It sounds as if every one's summer is whizzing by at breakneck speed and mine is no exception.

We've already done the beach thing, the family thing, the recital thing, the swimming thing, the many playdates thing and both M and I working thing resulting in about twelve minutes a week together (and Um, we're asleep).

I'm sure that their are busier people than myself (I'm sure there are, as a matter of fact, but you know sometimes how you feel like you're one of the only people on the planet who is moving at the speed of light while everyone else is meandering towards a sunny place?) That's me, under the desk.

Ok, you got me, it's Tina Fey, who undoubtedly has a heavier schedule than myself, but has the good grace to only have one child (admittedly, the kid looks like a handful, though, am I right?)

But other than the ridiculous lack of sleep and obnoxious amounts of 'I told you so' from my one true love, I'm good.

I do have several 'So there I was waiting on these people when....' stories that I'm anxious to share, but I have been tagged, so I'll deal with that first.

Where were you ten years ago?

This is interesting because I was working for Outback ten years ago, working towards my degree. If I'd stuck with Outback, it's possible I'd be running one.

But, I wouldn't have the joy of my children, or my husband so Ce' la Vie..

Five things on your to do list today..

(really, just five?)

1. Laundry

2. Mom's bday lunch.

3. Power bill, bank, Post office (that's one, right?)

4. Dinner with Rebecca

5. Movie date with hubby. (oh yeah, change sheets..hehe)

Snacks I enjoy.

Let's be clear, if it's a snack, I enjoy it.

What would you do if you were a billionaire?

Well, I hope I'm never a billionaire, because I think I'd be a terrible rich person, but if I had to take it, I'd take M to Ireland, the kids to Disney, Myself to Monte Carlo, Barbados, Hawaii, I'd fix my teeth (and possibly my breasts), I don't even know really, I can't even fathom that kind of green.

Places I would live:

I'm not sure, I love it here, but maybe closer to water? The lake?

And now, I will not pass on the taggage, but I did have fun..

and now a list Target Diva style of the things my customers (drunken or otherwise) have ACTUALLY SAID to me.

1. Can I have some more ranch?

2. Your teeth need bleaching.

3. Wow, you've got baggy ankles. (oh, yeah? you can tell that through orthopedic non slip shoes, ankle socks and bell bottom black pants?)

4. Seriously, more ranch?

5. What's with all the pins?

6. Is there dressing on this salad?

7. Is that your natural color hair?

8. Did you remember the ranch?
9. Those uniforms aren't very flattering are they? (not actually no, not unless you are approximately the size and width of a clothes hanger and then ooooo pretty!)

10. Can I have some more ranch?

Have a great week guys, thanks for all the emails and calls!

Will be posting a BRAND NEW excerpt at Writing MOMMY by weekend!

R

Cellulite Shadows 2 ( or there I was crying in the dressing room at Wal-Mart)

So, you guessed it.
I left my bathing suit quest to the last minute.
I was left with two choices.

1. No swimming.
2. Swim in old stretched out unsupportive bathing suit.

or

3. Buy new bathing suit.

So, today in the midst of all the going out of town preparations, I had to also find a new bathing suit.
which i loathe.
have i mentioned that?

So I go. Because the days of lazy waiting are over.
I go to My Sisters Closet, where I am hoping to find a decent suit for cheap.
Can I mention that there are three way mirrors in the dressing room? Three way mirrors are NOT MY FRIEND.

NOT. MY. FRIEND.
AT. ALL.

Ok, so back to bathing suit mission impossible.
I couldn't find one there. And after three more stores still no top fitting and bottom fitting bathing suit.

Sometimes I feel like my head is on someone else's body.

Long story short, I did find a cute cheap bathing suit that will work(um, hopefully) until I can have more time.

Why can't I wear shorts like a boy?

off to see the wizard. have a great rest of the week.
R

Come on ride the train

I rarely do this, because I could go on for hours about my kids, but we went to Tweetsie for Thomas the Tank Engine's Magical Mystery Tour (*not the real name of the tour) and it was, for once a completely wonderful experience. My husband is not a fan of theme parks, or heat, or being out in the heat at a theme park. But, for our kids, he's generally a really good sport and pretty much up for anything.

Our prior theme park/ outdoor adventures have been somewhat lackluster and a teensy bit less than fun, but this time it measured up to the hype.

We'd been to Tweetsie with K and A once before (let me mention here that A was two months old, which means I was two months post partum and still recovering from major abdominal-having-baby-through -opening-in-stomach surgery) so even the most fun thing (say, shoe shopping with someone else's credit card while eating chocolate) would have still not been superfun.

If you've been to Tweetsie you know that it is ALL UPHILL. Now there are ways to get uphill without walking, for instance a chairlift, a bus, a trolley and of course, walking.

We had a double stroller and foolish delusions of granduer, so we walked (it's only like a quarter mile or so, but still ALL UPHILL) the last time we went there were no options for the uphill trek other than the chair lift, which was out for me and A, so of we go up the HILL, I swear it took us an hour to get up that hill last time (MAJOR ABDOMINAL SURGERY, PEOPLE) but this time, Mike and I are flying up it like we have wings. (so proud of ourselves we were)

But that's not all, not only did we wow everyone with our athletic prowess, but we were smart enough to get an early morning ride (uh, only about six hundred other people had this very same idea, BTW) so we were done with the park by the time the temp was really cranking up.

B was a little wary of how loud the train was, but other than that good times were had by all. A loved every minute and was not whiny, fussy or otherwise moody for most of the day. K was fascinated by the gem mining and managed to get not only herself soaked but her sister and her brother and the bottom half of her Nana as well. It was OK, though, because she cheered herself up with a sucker as tall as she was.

We made it home by bedtime and while the kids conked out we ordered Applebee's.

Good times.

R

Cellulite Shadows

Shopping for a bathing suit.

Just let it sink in. I know, it's madness. My favorite suit is the Miraclesuit (lose 10 pounds in ten minutes!) It's no joke, it takes ten minutes to get the sucker on. But it makes me not so flabalicous. or at least look not so flabalicous.

But alas, even they don't last forever, especially if you buy them on eBay.

Now the time has come to purchase a new one.

Sigh.

Sadly, my body does not seem to have gotten any less cellulite ridden or stretchmark mapped since I last ventured into the lycra jungle.

I try to remind myself that even supermodels have something that they hate. So and So-acova hates her mole and how bony (???!!) her legs are. So and soblondeamericanfromthemidwestwithperfect teeth hates her 'flat' hair.

Me? Everything from the neck down.

and sometimes the neck up.

You may think I'm exaggerating.

Nope.

I want desperately to like myself. I don't want to pass on my debilatating self- loathing on to my beautiful daughters. But I digress. Bathing suit.

stat.So here I go, eBay shopping.

and I find a bathing suit.

and I like it.

I presume it will fit, because, hey the last one fit.

Um, not so much.

with the fitting.

or covering the needs to be covered.

sigh.

again.

So I'm off again to the races.

Literally, I have a week and a day to procure a bathing suit and I fear I may have to pay full price.

I won't even tell you what full price is, you can check it out here. Only if you dare.

Let's just hope I don't end up the night before we leave at K-mart crying like last time.

R

Lucky and Waiting

Has anyone noticed I like to begin my posts as if I'm in the middle of a conversation? It's true, I do. I feel the blogworld is my friend (for the most part) and I take advantage of that friendship sometimes to vent, to snark, to gnash my teeth and scream, to make wry observations. Just like everyone else who blogs I suppose.
One of my previous blogs on MySpace was about why I love to embarrass myself. To recap: I'm good at it, (if there is a wrong thing to say, count on me to come out with it, but I'll torture myself endlessly, so don't worry about blessing me out) I generally learn something and well, it gives me a little humility.
So after only a week on the job, I've waited on or delivered food to several people I know or am acquainted with. The reaction is usually shock.
Not from my close friends who know and with whom I'd discussed going back to work at length, but from people like the girl who helps with my daughters dance classes, one of the kids teachers, and a nurse I used to work with at the hospital. I get a lot of...'You WORK here?'
Uh, yeah, that's what the uniform is for.
What I want to say is either, NO, I don't WORK here, I dress up and PRETEND, fun game right?
OR YES, I DO work HERE, but I DON'T HAVE TO....( and then go on to explain the reasons that I choose to do a job that a lot of people consider demeaning)because it was pretty obvious these people felt sorry for me, in one case a parent of one of the other girls in K's class left me an almost twenty dollar tip. I'm sure she may be just a good tipper in general, but twenty on sixty dollars?
If I could I'd wear a shirt that says,
I'm so lucky.
So so lucky, I don't have to do this, my wonderful husband supports us well, but I need grown up time, and I even though I've had great jobs with really good benefits, those jobs tend to come home with you. Waiting tables stays at the restaurant.
Plus I'm good at it. I really like meeting new people and working in this environment means I meet new people every half an hour or so.
I like having cash. I like having something that's just mine.
I like buying my husband gifts with money I actually earned.
But I like staying home, too. And IF I choose to leave this job it's definitely not as big of a deal than if I worked somewhere with few employees or somewhere that I was heavily depended on.

Unfortunately, I can't wear a shirt that explains all that, so I generally just say, I'm working for the summer or working to help pay for Mike's birthday trip. Which is true, once school starts there will be no way I can work five days a week.

I think waiting tables is a perfect name for what I do by the way.
I am waiting.
I'm waiting to sell a book or short story or article. I'm waiting to figure out my groove.

I'm not embarrassed, though, except for when people seem embarrassed for me, then it's hard not to be a little dismayed.

Just one of those things I suppose.
R

Floprocks and Emo Trainwrex

SOOO, I've been busy lately.
Not too busy to read up on some of my friends posts. One that really stuck out to me was Rebecca at the Engineers Falcon, read her most recent post Here.
I think she really speaks to peoples hearts (esp. Moms and Women's) in this post. I just wanted to say that this is something I had a really hard time with not so long ago.
I would go to bed and before I could relax I would count the things I forgot to do. I told Keegan we could color in just a minute, I would read a book in just a minute.
Just a minute was my go-to phrase. But now, more often, if they want me to sit down and read or color or watch a movie or play cars or kitchen or dress-up, I stop and at least play for a minute. I can't always, but when whatever I'm doing can wait, I stop and just hand with the kids. They won't always want to hang out with me, so I need to take advantage of the time they do give me.
On to other things.
I was not a screaming raging Cruella DeVille this month, but I was a complete Emotional wreck. I cried when my favorite dance team did well on America's Best Dance Crew, or when I saw footage of the finale of American Idol. (and I wasn't just crying about the state of reality TV in America, although, what is UP with that?) I cried when Brady was sweet to his sisters and when he was mean. You get the idea.
Well, I didn't bust out in gut wrenching sobs, more like, eyes glistening hicccupy crying, but still. Crying.
So, obviously, even though my hormones are more mild, they're still having issues (not issues that can be helped my email order drugs, but issues nonetheless)

Now, for Target Diva, the Floprock edition.
Mike and I were watching the Mask last night and it really made me think. How did Jim Carrey's career survive making such crap movies?
The Mask, Ace Ventura (and didn't he do a SEQUEL?)Liar, Liar. ( I could go ON, but I won't, and you don't have to tell me that these movies weren't technical flops, they did great at the box office and all that, I just mean they were totally stupid story lines and yet...look, MONEY!)
Yet, he still manages to hang onto the A list.Is it because he's dating Jenny McCarthy and all her activism, or is simply doing funny voices for animated flicks enough to keep him afloat?
I hate to be all feminist (um, I don't, I totally don't) but if a women (well, not Cameron Diaz, but any normal non bionic woman) had made such wretched straight to DVD flops we'd be looking for them on Celebrity Fit Club or Dancing with the Stars, and even that couldn't breath life into their dead careers.
What really got me going on this was, the detective in the Mask was in a huge movie the seventies, a little flick called Animal House, but he's not done a whole lot since. Which of course made me think of Karen Allen, who was also in Animal House as well as Scrooged, but that was the EIGHTIES for pete sake and now Where is she??
Ok, so she's actually in the new Indiana Jones movie, but other than that
where has she been??
alright, I give up.
I'll just say, celebrity trivia gives me a headache.
Celebrity gossip? Yeah!!!
Celebrity trivia? boooo!

So, the job goes ok, except they're scheduling me for like FIVE days a week, which, in case you're wondering, is NOT part time. But, I hope I'll get it straightened out.
R

ten minute window the argh!! edition

Ok, so if you're wondering how frazzled I am...
I just posted today's post for HERE over at WRITINGmommy, please go over there to read my ten minute post that has now turned into twenty minutes of Why did I even start with this????
R