"Thank You Facebook"

It really just depends on how you say something. I've thanked Facebook in some different ways over the last few weeks. There was the "Gee, thanks a lot Facebook" as I witnessed all the ladies my husband went to high school with, friend request him. Or the "Wow, thank you Facebook", as I got to see what my family and close friends were up to. Then there are the other friends on Facebook that most people have, those that you knew, but may not currently recognize while out and about. If you did, you would most likely stop and chat for a second or two. It would be possible that many of my Facebook friends may not recognize me, since I tend to post only pictures that I feel I look OK in....which are most likely from 10 years ago. What's great about Facebook is, regardless of how well you know someone, if you have a conversation with someone you haven't seen in while it's nice and, well..brief. Don't get me wrong, it's not because you don't genuinely want to talk to someone, it's that life just doesn't allow for it most of the time. Say, for example, the time you run out to Walmart to buy...well...pretty much anything...and you don't happen to notice someone because you are hot on the trail of your child...who is attempting to exit the store and possibly about to set off an alarm because they figured they REALLY wanted a new video game...and that in itself should be reason enough to have it. If that's not the case and you don't have the distraction of children, it's OK. Facebook can definitely shorten up a conversation for you too. It stops you from having to lead in with..."So...What have you been doing with yourself for the past 15 years?" Those that are not complete  social voyeurists will at least let you know a little about what is going on in their life on Facebook.

I suggested to my husband that he join Facebook. In hindsight, I may have wanted to wait for a better time, well...for me. You see, this time of year tends to cause me to accentuate my curves a bit. By that I mean, my ass gets a bit larger. It's sort of like the "freshman 15", only it doesn't give up after that one time. It's what I like to refer to as the "winter 15"(this year possibly...20). It's the extra poundage I pack on to deal with the miserable cold and dreariness of winter. I tell myself it's not my fault. My body just tries to desperately insulate itself to fend off the cold. It's natures way. But, this year has been especially brutal. Not only am I dealing with a particularly crappy, snowy, freezing winter, I also quit smoking. I often wonder why I would ever smoke in the first place. I've heard it is to be blamed on an oral fixation.Unfortunately for my husband, that does not translate into something beneficial for him, contrary to the way it sounds. To his dismay, I choose to appease my fixation need with FOOD.

Here's how this all relates to my sarcastic thanking of Facebook. Having my husband join at a point when I wasn't feeling my most secure may not be the best idea. I look at Facebook a little differently now. I see some of my friends on Facebook and what they post, or pics they put up, and think, hmmm, what do his friends post? Some of my female friends look smokin hot in their pictures. It's OK for me to view women that way because, women judge other women...everyone knows that. But, I just don't know if I want my husband looking at his "friends" and thinking that. I picture them all looking so great, especially the ones that have kids. Naturally, they gained 14 lbs for each pregnancy and wore their "skinny jeans" home from the hospital. Meanwhile my hubby has visuals of me during my pregnancies, with ankles that.....well...there were no ankles. Deep down I hope that some of his female "friends" complain constantly on Facebook, or they share more than you could possibly want to know about them on a social network. They are always posting about how sick they are, or guessing that rain may be on the way, because when it is, their c-section scar flares up. It helps me out to think this way. It stops me from worrying that he may lose interest in me, I'm really not too bad when compared with that. It also stops me from being concerned that my last correspondence with him was a text to see if he could pick up feminine products for me on his way home.

I can thank Facebook for motivating me. I have a sudden desire to hop on my diet wagon, strap on the seat belt, and shed this "winter weight". Watching all these people on Facebook hitting the gym, dieting, or not doing a damn thing and still looking skinny. Of course, I am taking baby steps. Walking the dog a little longer each day...eating better. Then there is my favorite exercise, going out to see a band and dancing so long that my thighs hurt the next day. The only draw back to that exercise is that it goes hand in hand with beer for me. When I can't go to the bar to get some cardio, I turn to doing a game on Wii that has you follow the dancer on the screen and earn points if you can keep up with her. I think my kids remotes are broken though...the score clearly does not reflect my performance in most cases.

There are people on Facebook that I may not have gotten to know outside of it. Sharing the same "likes" must make people feel more connected to one another. One friend in particular, was like this for me. We shared a lot of the same interests. She was also really supportive when I started this blog. She would send me messages to say how much I made her laugh, and I could always count on her to encourage me to write more even if it was just to click the "like" button when she read one. She passed away suddenly two weeks ago. I still see her picture when I look through my friends on Facebook. This is the first time I will write a blog that she will not comment on. Even something like this makes me thankful for Facebook, I may not have gotten to know her the way I did without it.

Regardless of what you use Facebook for, try to have some fun with it. Use it to share your thoughts, your stories, your gripes, to sing a song. Tell your friends whatever you like...unless you are a friend of husband...then you might want to reign it in a little. Also, go easy on the sexy pics, he really hates those.

Operation: Vacation

Ahh yes, family vacation time. Time to relax...well, for everyone but mommy. Of course there were times during vacation when I could sit back and relax (like when the kids were sleeping), but for the most part it wasn't much different from being at home for me. I find it funny that it takes me forever to pack for a trip that is within my state (the smallest state in the US mind you). Every year we spend a week with my father-in-law at his house on the beach. I usually take my time over a couple of days to pack things but lately we've been leaving the day after our 4th of July block party. I spent so much time preparing for said party, that I couldn't pack. Then the day we were to leave I had to clean and pack at the same time. I am usually an excellent multi-tasker, however I may have had a little too much fun at the party because it felt like a drummer was performing a solo in my head all day. Plus it was 90 degrees and humid. In hind sight that was probably a good thing since it helped me sweat out some of the alcohol. Anywho...we left a lot later than I had planned and ended up arriving at the beach house at 8pm.

The first thing I did was stop to get food for the kids to eat on the ride down since I was going to have to unpack all the stuff I just packed and I didn't want to add cooking to my "to do" list. Once we were all settled in I decided I should probably eat something. I grabbed some leftovers from the party that were in a tupperware and threw it in the microwave. Just as I sat down to eat it my oldest son looked at me and said "I think I am going to be sick". I jumped up, grabbed him, and ran with him to the bathroom. We made it just in time. I stood there with one arm wrapped around his chest, squaring him with the toilet, tupperware in the other hand, while he threw up. Now, before I had kids the sight of someone vomiting would make me sick too. But now, it's just another day as a mom. When he finished, I brought him to a recliner, covered him and he fell asleep. Had this happened earlier in my journey through mommy hood, it may have warranted a trip to the ER. I once called 911 for a high fever only to be rushed, by ambulance, to the hospital where they administered Tylenol and sent us home. Live and learn, I guess.

With one son settled in for the night, I sat down and tried to finish (or actually start) eating my food. Again, in the past I would never have been able to eat after watching a projectile vomiting episode. Now that's just for amateurs. As soon as I raised the fork to my mouth my youngest yelled from the bathroom "Mom! I need help! Oh shit, he's throwing up too. I set my food down this time and headed for the bathroom. When I opened the door I found him bent over, ass in the air. "Wipe my butt, I pooped". Super. By the way, this wasn't going to stop me from eating either.

The rest of the week was quite enjoyable. We spent hours on the beach swimming, and playing in the sand. There weren't anymore vomiting episodes, although I did occasionally assume the role of "ass wiper". I'm sure my hubby enjoyed himself too. There was no shortage of scantly clad, hot bodied ladies bouncing around in the waves. The surf was pretty rough and I'm sure he witnessed the occasional "nip slip". Oh well...it kind of reminded me of that commercial for Corona, when the girl squirts lime juice in her man's eyes for ogling the women. The only difference is if I had a lime I may have squirted it in my own eyes. They were making me ill. Weird...this was something that could cause me to vomit. I missed by pre-baby body and the ability to wear a bikini.

For every bikini body on the beach, there were five that should not have been wearing bikinis...but they were anyway. By mid week I thought...Screw it, I have a bikini and I'm going to wear it. Well technically it's a bikini top, and a skirted bottom...or what I like to refer to as the "Momkini". I probably should have thought that through a bit more. My stomach hadn't seen the light of day in quite some time. Even with sunscreen my mid section got torched. Let me add that I NEVER burn. I have very dark skin (everywhere that gets exposed to the sun on a regular basis). I don't know how people with fair skin do it. I can't remember the last time I was in so much pain (aside from the day after the party). It was still bright red three days later. Needless to say, it will be years before I expose it again, if ever. It also was not a good idea to wear that top in the heavy surf. I was guilty of numerous "nip slips" myself. Another reason to retire the "Momkini" on the family vacation.

While we were there we were able to have a date night. We hit a little bar near the beach and it was packed. There was a large group celebrating someones 21st birthday. I felt really old. I just wanted to have a few beers and play some pool and these "kids" were hogging all the tables. They were also obnoxiously drunk and screaming the lyrics to every song. I thought...Wow, did we look like that when we were their age? Then I realised that we look like them now when we go out with our friends. The bartender informed us that the beer we were drinking was only $5 for a pitcher. Why not...we could handle a couple of pitchers. Finally, a table opened up and we went over to start playing. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed that a group of youngins kept looking at me and talking amongst themselves. At first I thought maybe I was just being paranoid, but after a few more drinks I started to get pissed off. What the hell are they looking at? Just let one of those little bitches say something to me (Obviously, beer balls were in full effect). When my husband went to get us another pitcher, one of them started walking toward me while the others looked on. Oh, here we go...I'm too old for this shit. She walked up and said " I love your shirt, it's such a pretty color and it makes you look so tan!" Whew... "Oh, thank you honey" I replied. "I got it at Target for $10". They were young but I'm sure they were well aware of the unspoken rule of revealing the location of purchase as well as the price whenever complimented. Now at ease, I could drink and play a few more games. We had a great time. On the way back to the beach house we talked about taking a walk down to the beach. However, when I walked in I settled into a recliner and passed out. I have now added draft beer to my date night nemesis...Taco Bell.

Overall, we had a great time. The kids also learned some very valuable lessons. For example, beer goes in the blue cooler (B in B). Also, there is no distracting mommy and daddy while we are mini golfing. Little do they know we have naughty "wages" set in place for the winner. One day they may read this and realize why it was such serious business...then they will probably vomit.

These Wagons Should Have Seat Belts

I hear people say all the time that they "fell off the wagon". Apparently, these wagons exist for a variety of reasons from quitting smoking, to dieting, or to stop drinking. My favorite wagon to mount, and then be thrown from, is of the dieting variety. I strap on my helmet, elbow, and knee pads, pick a date that I will board, and ride it as if it were a mechanical bull; desperately trying to buck me off. It starts out well enough, the road is smooth and I have a positive outlook on the whole thing..."I think I can, I think I can". Then the path begins to twist and turn and the ride becomes turbulent. My wagon starts taking me to places like birthday parties, or my kids beg for McDonald’s. It becomes time to grab hold of the "oh shit" handles. My outlook starts to change as I have to now repeat things like "cake is a sometimes food, cake is a sometimes food"...

I’ve struggled with weight issues my whole life. The size of my "skinny jeans" is probably double that of most women. I try not to obsess over it, but it’s tough when it’s thrown in your face every day on television. I find it amusing that commercials for Jenny Craig and Weight Watchers are sandwiched (pun intended) between those for Burger King and Pizza Hut. It’s also no fun to come across women in the supermarket that have 3 kids (all of which are probably younger than mine) as they strut along in their size 2 jeans. If this is a perfect description of yourself, and you swore you heard someone mutter "whore" as they were walking by in the store; you’re not crazy, I definitely said it.

I was probably at my thinnest when I got married. I find this unfair for my husband because technically it could be viewed as false advertising. Six months later I found out I was pregnant. In a way, I used this fact as a way to excuse my participation in a free for all with food. "This damn baby is always hungry". I ate whatever I could get my hands on while blatantly blaming my fetus that needed only a third of it to grow. The end result was my gaining a whopping 70 pounds! To be honest, I didn’t really give a crap at the time. I bore a beautiful, healthy, baby boy. Nothing else was all that important.

The constant distraction of motherhood helped me keep the binge eating in check. I remember days when I would put the baby to bed for the night and think "Did I eat anything today?" It took a year for me to lose most of the weight. I can clearly recall the day I went to my drawer and pulled out all of my clothes until I finally reached my "skinny jeans" which hadn’t seen the light of day in quite some time. Hello old friend. I put them on without much of a struggle and could actually button them. YES! Look out, mama’s back in business! One week to the day of this exhilarating moment, I was sitting in my bathroom staring at a positive pregnancy test..."Are you fricken kidding me?!?"

My husband plays a huge role when it comes to my weight issues. He’s never once, even at my biggest, ever made me feel anything other than beautiful. Unfortunately, most of the time I didn’t pay much attention because I was so wrapped up in the kids and trying to grasp what had just happened to my life. I found myself thinking about all the times I complained about my pre-pregnancy body. I would walk through flaming embers to get that body back. I give him a lot of credit for hanging in there during all my pity parties (catered by Taco Bell of course).

For all I know, when I ask my husband how I look he isn’t even seeing me. He replaces my image with that of Carmen Electra or something. Frankly, I don’t care. As long as he’s believable he can visualize whoever he wants. This, of course, is the only time lying in a relationship is OK. The end result will be that I feel great and that will most likely translate to him feeling great later (wink, wink). Take note fellas, it leads to a win/win situation.

I’ve decided to trick out my new "diet wagon". It will be equipped with seat belts, a GPS and air bags to help me navigate through the bumpy roads. When temptation seems like it will take over maybe I’ll try having a glass of wine to help me relax. Besides, I have no use for a wagon that will help me stop drinking...that’s crazy talk.

New Olympic Event...Pole Dancing??

Recently I heard something on the news that really got me thinking. There has been some interest in adding a new event to the Olympics. That in itself didn’t seem surprising, just this year at the Winter Olympics there was the addition of Ski cross. Fan’s loved it. I’m all about trying to keep people’s interest with new events. The event or “sport” being discussed as a new addition did come as a bit of a shock. Pole Dancing. That’s right...the “sport” made famous by naked women in seedy bars could become part of the world stage of the Olympics. I would prefer to refer to Pole Dancing as more of an art than a sport. Don’t get me wrong, there is certainly an athletic aspect to it. One could even compare it to those Olympic athletes that perform on the parallel bars. The only difference really is that the poles of one are vertical and the others are horizontal. I found myself really thinking about the possibilities... What could the structure for this type of event be? Would there be divisions similar to that of Ice Dancing- women’s, men’s and couples? What types of moves would qualify for a higher score? Trust me, I can easily take something like this and run with it mentally for days...

Now, let me start by saying I am far from a prude. My view of Pole Dancing does not coincide with those who feel it is degrading to women. In fact, I can see some women using it as a way to build strength and stay in shape. I personally have never attempted it, not because of any opposition to it, but possibly because of intimidation. I see commercials on television all the time for workout videos that teach things such as Lap Dancing and Pole Dancing. There are a number of women who have there own poles at home that can be removed very easily, just in time for their fellow PTA members to drop by, and I say good for them...and their spouses. Not only can it keep you fit, it can keep the hubby from spending all the grocery money on watching someone else perform the “art”. Those who doubt that there is athletic ability needed to pole dance, check out the link to the video for the National Pole Dancing Championship that I have attached below. These are certainly the elite in the art. I would have to think that if I entered any local “establishment” I would not encounter women whose skills were even remotely close to those in this video, or needed in order to compete in the Olympics.

I found myself wondering how the event would be judged. There are currently events in both the Winter and Summer Olympics that are required to be judged by a person’s interpretation. Pole Dancing would have to be judged in a way similar to Ice Dancing or Gymnastics. Unlike events that have competitors who are trying to beat the clock, to determine the winner a judge would have to be more cerebral. These types of events seem to become hot topic issues when a country feels their representative has been robbed of a medal because a judge did not interpret the routine the way they had hoped. I wonder if a judge could remove the erotica that is usually part of a pole dancing routine and actually rate it on the technical difficulty of the routine. What is technically difficult on a pole? I would assume there are different names for the tricks that are used, similar to say, Snowboarding. Shaun White just unveiled a new trick in Snowboarding this year called the Double McTwist 1260. For all I know this is also a Pole Dancing move. The judges would have to be educated in these types of things in order to do a good job. Imagine the number of applications for the judging of this event. My husband thinks the judging panel should be all male since they are, after all, the general spectators of this “sport”. I believe a woman could be a bit more biased, and not have the score be in direct proportion to the competitor’s chest.

Another question I have is- would men participate? In order for a sport to be allowed in the Olympics it could not discriminate against men and refuse their right to compete. This in and of itself could put the kibosh on the whole idea. I’ve never seen, nor heard of a man who participates in Pole Dancing. I’m sure there are some out there but can only imagine the stigma attached to it. Just as male Figure Skaters are assumed to be feminine or gay, male Pole Dancers would face much of the same. To be honest I’m not really sure I would even want to see a male Pole Dancer, but that’s just me.

Overall, I’m not opposed to the addition of Pole Dancing to the Olympics. I just don’t think it would be able to overcome the obstacles it faces to do so. It would certainly draw spectators, many of which have never even watched the Olympics because they considered them to be boring. If it does get in, they may want to schedule a Curling match between Pole Dancing sets just to help that event’s ratings. I can just see it, years down the road, my sons coming over to visit and watch the Olympics with their dear old dad. As they gather around the television my husband turns to them and says “Boys, when I was your age, they didn’t have Pole Dancing in the Olympics....now pass your old man a beer and don’t talk until this is over!”

Click Here to see video