No Cutting!

I found myself in an heated exchange today - with a stranger at a McDonald's drive thru. An afternoon snack run turned into my losing my temper and f-bombs apparently flying out of my mouth. As I've said many times in other situations, it wasn't one of my finer moments.

Here's the scenario. I needed sugar. In a bad way. Therefore a vanilla cone, regular coke AND chocolate chip cookies were ordered. Unless you've been holed up in a cave for the past decade, you know most McDonald's drive thru's have two lanes, I'm assuming to better manage traffic flow. I blissfully ordered my diabetic coma in waiting and patiently waited for my turn to curve around the bend to pull up to the pay window. I carefully nudged my SUV around the corner in front of the other car in the other lane. However, every time I moved forward, the other car tried moving in front of me. Now, drive-thru etiquette with two lanes requires that every other vehicle takes turns. I just assumed this was universally understood. The other driver apparently wasn't aware of this unspoken rule and decided to call me a f*cking bitch.

I have to give this girl credit. She was quite the multi-tasker. She was able to curse at me, cut in front of my car AND twirl her hair, all without ever putting her cell phone down and ending her conversation on it. That's talent!

However, being the mature, level headed individual I am, I couldn't let this atrocity occur without speaking out against the injustice of her cutting in front me. Oh no not me. Naturally I yelled (and my husband swears I said this) "why don't you put your f*cking phone down and pay attention" I tried spewing out a few more choice words but I simply ran out of space to move my car. It was my turn to pay. Thank goodness for that, because all 4 feet, 11-3/4 inches of me was apparently itching for a fight :-) Not really. I simply realized fighting about whose turn it is at McDonald's was just a little bit lame. Again, not one of my finer moments. But dang it if my vanilla cone, Coke and cookies didn't taste all the more sweeter.

It Does Take A Village

One of the few times you'll hear me agree with Hillary Clinton is that I do believe it does take a village to raise children today.

In our tribe, there are 4 kids, yes I know, Chris and I aren't very bright :-). They are busy and involved in many activities - soccer, karate, basketball, baseball, softball - you name it, they have or are doing it now. Sometimes we have to rely on others to help get them to their various events.

This made me think of the other "villagers" we rely on to help shape and form our children. This includes, but is not limited to: teachers who spend 5 days a week, 8 hours a day with them, coaches who encourage them to play and work hard, and friends/neighbors who help shuttle and babysit at the drop of a hat.

Every time our kiddos come home from school and run out to play with the neighbor rugrats, I am grateful for our little village here on Legler Road. Philip is usually with Macy and Julia at the Loes' house. Robert is outside with Connor and Mitchell. Haille is zooming around on her bike with Riley and Chloe. And then Kenzie and Emma are holed up in Emma's room watching tv or listening to music. Didn't I just list more than 4 kids? Can you guess which are mine? That's the point, you can't. Children run back and forth everywhere, getting popsicles here, having juice boxes somewhere else. And I actually love it.

Does our village get overrun by the little natives at times? Absolutely. But that's when we tribal leaders (parents)take council at the Hargrove hut for a cocktail or two. Or better yet, we retreat to sacred sites like Hereford House for a peaceful dinner sans kids and yes, more cocktails. :-)

I Spy

With the advent of social networks like FaceBook, Twitter, Linked In etc. we can find out just about anything we want to about our friends and family members.

I will confess that I have gone through my FaceBook friends' friends list to see what's going on in people's lives that I either a)don't want to be friends with or b)just plain being nosy. Is this spying? Maybe a little. Is this an invasion of privacy? Again maybe a little. But if you use social networks and aren't capable of setting your privacy settings to control who views your information, I'm going to have to place the blame more on you :-)

A few of my girlfriends and I were having this discussion last night. One prefers to not be on FaceBook at all and prefers to have real person to person conversations. As in pick up the phone and talk! I know, talk on the phone, that was so 2 years ago :-) Why talk when you can text or inbox on FaceBook. The results are so much quicker and you don't have to waste any time with the Hi, how are you formalities.

How and why do you use your social networks? Personally, I like seeing pics of everyone's kids, vacations and quick snapshots/updates of people's lives WITHOUT having to have long, in depth conversations. In today's ADD society, I imagine many of you are similar.

Behind the Behind

I'm just going to say this and you can agree or disagree with me at will, if you're a woman over 30 years old, you have no business wearing any sort of sweatpants, shorts, boxers, etc. with the words "HOTTIE, CUTIE, WOW" whatever on them.

I was walking down an aisle in Walmart today (another blog topic as well), and I saw a woman who was about 10 years too old and 30 pounds too heavy, wearing a pair of bright red jogging shorts with the words "HOTTIE" spread out over her backside. Now, if I was going to wear apparel making such a statement, I would make sure I looked like a Victoria Secret model before heading out the door, but that's just me. I just can't understand why women tell themselves "I look good" when donning something so silly. What goes through their minds.

Don't get me wrong, I'm all about personal expression. Tattoos all over your body wouldn't cause me to bat an eye, O.K. maybe it would a little. Personalized license plates are an effective way of telling the world a little something about yourself as well. Mine says "6 PAK".

I guess what I'm trying to say is that if you're 6 or 21 years old, by all means, have words sprayed across your derriere, it's appropriate. Maybe I'm just jealous. Maybe I should try it myself before I make the statement that we women over 30 should know better. Maybe if they made a pair of shorts with "MOM, MOM, MOM" over them, I'd wear them. And yes, my behind can accomodate that many words. Tell me what you think about this, I'd be interested in hearing.

Who's Account-able?

My husband and I share a joint checking and savings account. Always have, always will. Years ago, when we lived with one another before getting married (yes, we were one of THOSE couples), we had separate accounts. I was always confused during this period too. Whose income was responsible for what? Who would pay the electric bill? Who would pay for groceries? Since we were making comparable incomes, we essentially split expenses. But, after a month or so of trying to figure out who was accountable for what, we decided to go ahead and pool our resources and just pay everything from one account.

Here's why I bring up this topic. A friend of mine, who has been married for over 20 years, informed me that she and her husband have separate accounts. Essentially, her income and his income go into one account in HIS name. She maintains a separate checking account from income earned at another part-time job, income which is not sizable by any means. Her husband pays all household expenses from HIS account and when she needs extra money, she has to ask him. I asked her repeatedly, how is this possible? In this day and age, how many more husbands and wives are out there in similar situations?

I am by no means demeaning anyone if you are in this type of situation. I just wonder how you make it work. My husband and I decided that the best solution for our family was to put everything into one pot, regardless of who made more and regardless if the income was supporting children from previous marriages. I have to give my husband credit, he has never once told me I couldn't spend any amount of money on the children just because they came from another biological contributor. Telling me to quit spending so much money on the children altogether, now that's another matter :-).

So who's account-able in your marriage? For my family, we're going to continue doing what we've always done - my husband's money is my money, and my money is my money too.

I am not Wonder Woman

I admit, I used to think having it "all" defined me. Now that I'm older and wiser (at least in my eyes), having it all or the wonder woman syndrome isn't exactly what I'm striving for.

Do I still want the fulfilling career, happy/healthy children, loving husband, nice home, etc., of course I do. However, now I realize that always feeling fulfilled and completely satisfied with myself in those areas are and will always be eternally elusive. On any given day, I may feel that I'm doing a great job with the kids yet probably not so great at work. Or maybe my husband could use a little more attention and I should forget about the kitchen floor needing to be swept.

Too often in the past I've beaten myself up when all the spokes in the wheel of my life weren't running together in the same direction. I'm tired of these emotional bruises that I've inflicted on myself. It's taken me awhile to get here, but I'm actually happier when my life isn't perfect. It keeps me on my toes and as one friend told me many years ago, perfect is boring. God knows I'm not bored!

I wouldn't mind those cuff bracelets Wonder Woman wears though. Puts my silver Tiffany one to shame. And the invisible jet would be cool as hell. But oh well, like millions of other women, I'm OK not being Wonder Woman. Are you?

Sleeping with the boss

Is it bad that I'm 40 years old and still don't consider myself grown up?
When I was a child I thought a 40-year-old was ancient. Surely at this age, a person would be settled professionally and personally. Although I may be as settled as one can be (chasing 4 kids around)personally, my professional life is evolving yet again.

As of June 1, I will be working for my husband at his insurance agency, a whole other blog topic I'm sure :-) This means no longer having to clock in at an office and trying to work 9 - 5. I'm sure there will be long days ahead yet the long days will be entirely dictated by ME, not my husband, not a boss, not another co-worker, but ME. I will I eat what I kill, or in less graphic terms, I will make as much or as little money relative to the amount of time I spend working. Needless to say, with 4 kids hunkering in the background, I plan on working a lot.

Am I a little scared about this whole self-employed thing? You bet. Do I have faith that my husband and I working as a team will be ultra successful? Abso-f**kinglutely.

My only question is what kind of perks do I get sleeping with the boss? :-)

We're dating again

My husband and I are dating again, not each other or other people though. Huh you say? I mean we're dating another couple, as in forging a new friendship with a couple who just moved in across the street. I think finding a NEW couple friend whom you're compatible with and can stand to be around for longer than 15 minutes of idle chit chat is challenging. You see, I believe the process of becoming friends is similar to the process of a dating couple.

On your first "date", you ask the typical discovery type questions. Questions like: how many children do you have, where do you work, where did you go to college, what's your favorite alcoholic beverage (doesn't everyone ask that question?) and so on and so on. After these questions are answered you then have to decide if you liked them enough to come around again OR if they liked you enough to want to be around you again.

On your second, third, fourth dates, you begin to hear stories about them from their youth and early adulthood, some flattering and others not so flattering, but all along, getting to know their real selves a bit more. And whether or not these tales of lore either induce you to want to find out more about them or if they make you want to run towards the hills faster than Forrest Gump determines if you truly can become a couple friend.

It's when you become a couple friend that the really interesting situations arise. When do you become comfortable enough to have them see you in your jammies? In my case, I'm easy, it only took a few dates :-) Or when do you reveal how bitchy you really can be, again, in my case, I'm easy. When do you let your bodily functions come out to play without feeling humiliated? Or is this reserved for when you become the old married couple couple? For clarification, the old married couple couple are those friends who know EVERYTHING about you and then some AND yet they still hang out with you. You know who you are! :-)

It's funny, just when we thought we didn't have enough room or time in our lives for more friends, we find ourselves dating again. Will they replace our married couple couples we already have? Nah. Will we get past all the wooing and dating and become an old married couple with them? I'm thinking there's a real possibility.

Hen House vs Wal-Mart

Belt tightening, budget, expense control, saving, cost reduction...whatever you call it, it's still the same to me - trying to save in areas where you can, not only because the wallet may dictate it, but also because it makes sense, literal cents.

My husband quit his corporate job a few months ago and started his own business. When this happened, we both knew that we would have to be more cautious with our discretionary income until his company gets into full swing. Large quarterly bonuses have been replaced with bonuses of a different kind - no more corporate ladder or red tape, both of which are priceless!

A new business did mean our family would have to make some adjustments. To me, it meant no more going to our local Hen House on a whim and trying to see if the discount retailers like Wal-Mart and Aldi would save our family money. Big duh right? Of course they did. Yes, the produce in Hen House might have a bit more gloss and it is convenient to buy everything at a store only a couple blocks from my home. However, afer a few weeks of doing some serious cost comparisons, I've realized I can save my family HUNDREDS of dollars a month by shopping at other stores. Why haven't I been doing this all along?

I'm not advocating one store over another. I still frequent my Hen House, always will, just not as frequently as I used to though. Does this mean I won't be getting my annual "thank you" gift from them at Christmas, maybe. Does this mean I'll go back to my Hen House ways again in the future, I'm hoping not.

To Glee or not to Glee?

Admittedly, I'm late to the Glee viewing game. It seems like everyone I know has been telling me I neeeeeed to see the show. So after much persuasion from neighbors, co-workers, Facebook friends and even children, I sat down to watch it tonight. Of course I loved it.

That's not the point, it's a given that I would like a musical variety show. If you know me, I've been known to bust out into song now and then. My point or rather question is, why doesn't my husband like these type of shows or even musicals all together?

Is it the X/Y chromosomal difference? How can he stand to watch episode after episode of Monster Garage but wilt like spinach in a hot skillet when I mention words like "Wicked, Sound of Music, West Side Story or Cats"? Not only do his eyes glaze over but he looks at me as if I've made up new vocabulary words, as if he's never even heard of the words before.

Maybe it's like getting your first summer tan. Maybe he should ease into Glee or other musicals, bit by bit. Start with a small amount of exposure and gradually increase until he can sit through the height of the sun, or in this case, an entire episode.

Does your husband/boyfriend/partner Glee?

Who gets the oxygen mask first?

Like many of you, I struggle with taking care of everthing/everyone around me first and often making myself last. I'm not trying to be a saint or obtain sympathy, I'm just stating a fact.

A friend of mine put it in this perspective. In times of turbulence, when an airplane's oxygen masks come down from the ceiling, who's mask is supposed to go on first? We all know the answer, your own....

Why don't we (women) apply this to our lives? Every weekend, I tell myself, I am going to forge a little time for myself. Just me and only me. Whether this means going to Barnes & Noble and enjoying a frothy frappucino and perusing the new arrivals or walking up and down the aisles of Target, I say to myself I'm going to do it.

And then what happens? The weekend has passed and once again I wake up on a Monday morning wondering where my me time went? Instead of taking a moment for myself, I spent it carting kids around to various sporting events, carting kids on various errands, cleaning up the house, doing laundry, cooking, etc, etc.

I'm not saying, I don't enjoy these activities, I do (excluding laundry and cleaning house of course). I'm just saying that when I wonder where my me time went, it's because I didn't bother to speak up and say I need some time for myself. My husband would gladly give it to me if he knew I wanted it. I just need to remember to put my mask on first. Who's mask do you put on first?

Booby Trap

Literally. When you hit the landmark age of turning 40, one of your new to-do's as a woman is to get a mammogram. If nothing else, for peace of mind, I set my appointment for this Friday.

Here's how I envision the visit going. But first I have to provide a little physical description of myself. I promise, it won't be more than you can bear. I'm short. 4 foot 11 and 3/4 to be exact. Short enough that I'll likely have to stand on some sort of stool. And I'm not the most endowed specimen in the mammary area. I don't think of these traits as physical defects, they are what they are....me.

Technician: "Ms. Cooper, can you please get as close to the machine as you physically can. You might feel a little squeeze as we try to make sure we get as much of you in the Xray as possible. I apologize in advance if you feel some mild discomfort.

Umm, do you think you could get closer? Closer...closer...I'm sorry Ms. Cooper, I seem to be having difficulty getting enough of you in for a sample picture. Perhaps if you could just bend forward a bit more."

How the hell am I supposed to keep a straight face during this exchange? I think the mild discomfort will come more from knowing it's going to be a pulling taffy type experience to get a good mammogram from me. But you know what, in a little offbeat sort of way, I'm looking forward to the appointment, mild discomfort and all. It reminds me that I'm actually doing something to take care of myself, something I don't do enough of anyway.

If you've already gone through this experience, let me know what to truly expect.

Enough with the guilt!

Why do I always feel guilty about something? Is it a trait I was born with? Is it a trait ingrained in women?

I feel guilty when I'm not home to greet the kids from school. I feel guilty when I don't return a friend's call the same day. I feel guilty because I don't visit my parents every Sunday. Heck, tonight I felt guilty because I left my husband alone with the children for about an hour so that I could run errands. I seriously doubt my husband feels guilty when he goes on a several hour motorcycle ride and leaves me with the children. Therein, lies the point.

I need to be more like a man. Men don't suffer from this guilt syndrome. When we go to sleep at night, my husband lays his head down and falls into a peaceful slumber within seconds. When I lay my head down, I'm thinking to myself I should have read our toddler son another book instead of folding laundry. Or I should be planning my strategy for my morning meeting.

I should just tell myself enough with the guilt already. But then I'd feel guilty about that :-) Is it just me?

Baby Mama Drama

My husband and I have a blended family. One his, two mine, one ours. However, we call all of them our children, regardless of what belly they came from.

Having had his daughter since she was an infant, I feel as much of a mother to her as I do my own. I've gotten up in the middle of the night when she's been sick, changed her diapers, kissed boo-boos, attended parent/teacher conferences, you name it, I've done it. Here's my dilemna.

My daughter (stepdaughter) calles me "Mom". This bothers her biological mother to no end. In fact, the bio mom takes every moment she can to remind our daughter to not call me "Mom". Well, we finally had a Jerry Springer moment yesterday on our front porch about it. Needless to say, the neighbors heard more than they probably should have. If you know me, I don't get easily riled up. It takes a lot to ruffle my feathers. However, I've had my limit of watching the biological contributor gossip about me at sporting and school events and I couldn't help myself. It was not one of my finer moments in life, but at least it finally got out in the open. I think this issue is unresolvable between us all. The biological mom will always believe it's disrespectful to her and I will always believe she should just shut the F**K up.

Feel free to share if you've experienced the same situation or what your thoughts are about it. And I'm OK with hearing differing viewpoints :-)