Monthly Archives: September 2013

“42. Answer to the Ultimate Questions of Life, the Universe and Everything.”

I am about to celebrate another birthday. Yeah, go me! It’s amazing, I’m turning 42, but feel like I’m in my early thirties. The kids remind me every day that I am not, in fact, in my thirties.

I was pushing 150 pounds at the end of last year and about to move to  a size 12. There was a little crying involved and I thought, hey, I’m a mom, I’m in my forties, that’s just what happens. But the thing is, I felt old and tired. I’d tried several diets to drop a little weight without success. Atkins had worked for me back when I was 28, but messed with my system, because, hey when you are supposed to eat low carb it doesn’t get much better than cheeseburgers, right?

Well, I decided to go for it again January 1st, 2013. This time, with wisdom gained from 13 more years on this planet, I followed the instructions of the “lifestyle change”. Doesn’t mean I didn’t eat my share of cheeseburgers, but I did throw in a few salads this time. Dr. D  and Dr. S were impressed. Did I mention that my doctors rock? They so do!

I cried the first day, cause, you know, we still had cookies left from Christmas, but I stuck to my guns and lost a few pounds the first week. I’m not going to tell you the next few months were easy. Between gas and the shock to your body of significantly cutting the carbs you’ve eaten your entire life, it almost made me quit. But I didn’t. After my body got used to this new way of eating, the grumbles got a little quieter. The gas, unfortunately, stuck around, but what are you going to do? It’s a small price to pay, except at the movie theater.

9 months later and I’ve gone down from a size 10+ to a size 4. I know, I know, you should be happy with your body now matter what you weigh. Here’s the thing though, I feel younger. I’m lighter on my feet, my ankles no longer swell up and I don’t have aches in my knees anymore. It’s a bitch sometimes not eating pasta like I used too. I am possibly, maybe Italian according to the cardiologist {yeah, the red hair is a dead giveaway}.

Subject change, keep up.

I also don’t get pushed around as much as I used to.

I find myself holding firm with people and not taking any of their bullshit. Some people call it being a bitch. I call it growing a backbone. I’ve always been a carpet when it comes to other people. Life’s too short and my stress level was getting out of hand. My poor husband gets most of it, but then again he can dish it out as well as the next person. He married a sweetheart and now lives with a shrew sweetheart with a backbone. He’ll live, I take very good care of him.

My tastes seem to have changed too in the last few years. Both my husband and I pick out celebrities that would make “the list”. You know, that make believe list that you both have of the people you would sleep with if you had a chance and it would be perfectly ok with your spouse, because it’s a celebrity?

And it’s never going to happen.

My husband has his own list. More redheads on it than a few years ago. Hmm.

Yeah, I’ve rearranged my list and the results surprised me a little. Instead of George Clooney or Brad Pitt I now gravitate towards the following hotties:

Stanley Tucci-This is a new one. I just want to rub his head.

Mark Strong- I see a trend in bald. The husband will be happy.

Jeremy Northam-the best Mr. Knightly EVER.

Gary Senise- Multi-faceted and sexy as hell.

Harrison Ford- Han Solo. Nuff said.

Robert Downy Jr.- wit and the best comeback.

Gary Oldman-Just…hot.

Gerard Butler-I like a good brooder.

Aging has it’s aggravations, but the fact that I’m starting to feel good in my own skin makes up for all the new wrinkles and white hairs I find sticking straight out of my head and, funnily enough, my eyebrows. I’ll take the trade-offs.


Bender, the Wonder Mutt.

Since the kids haven’t done anything lately that I can bitch about would be considered hilarious enough to blog about…I thought I’d introduce you to Bender, the Wonder Mutt.

He’s like a fifth child, without the eye rolling and door slamming.

I’ve had my share of awesome dogs, but this one rocks for many reasons!

Isn’t he a cutie???


We rescued him from a kind soul that found him wandering in downtown, Kansas City KS. We knew he was ours when he ran up to us and promptly peed on my husband’s shoe. Sold!!

That’s a sign you know…it’s like he’s marking you as his. My husband didn’t find this quite as endearing, but thought he was cute enough to cart home.

The dog is a girlie dog. I don’t mean because he was country castrated, he just prefers females to males. This irritates the husband since he considers himself the master of the house. {Little does he know…;)} Anyway, the dog gravitates towards me and the girls of the house. He is constantly under my feet which is quite sweet and helpful when I am cooking and drop something on the floor.

Other times, not so much. It’s a damn miracle I haven’t broken something for as many times as I’ve tripped over him.

He loves bath time. **clarification** The five year old’s bathtime, not his. We have to hogtie him to get the stink off him. He sits in the small kids’ bathroom while Little A. splashes around, getting close enough to try and lick the water off of the tub while keeping one eye on me to ensure he doesn’t join her.

He also loves beds. Ours to be exact. The poor thing curls up into a ball(on my side of course) at the bottom of the bed, taking up the smallest surface area possible to escape getting bumped off. He loves when the husband travels. I’ve found him stretched out and snoring next to me on those nights.

It’s unconfirmed, but I do believe he uses BOTH of our pillows while we are gone during the day.


Being cute, he gets away with a lot of shit.

Apparently, three cups of dog food isn’t quite enough for him. I frequently find food taken out of the trash and strategically hidden throughout the house. I’ve tried doubling his daily allotment to no avail. He still dumpster dives.

Things I’ve found hidden behind cushions, under couches, laundry room, under beds:

pizza crust(who doesn’t love pizza crust, especially Pizza Shoppe)

cookies(he has a sweet tooth, like the rest of the kiddos)

ham bones(Christmas bonus)

bagel and a stick of butter(early breakfast???)

1 pound of beef jerky…albeit in a pile of vomit.

I think he was traumatized when he was a puppy. He is freaked out by the some of the weirdest things. Balloons send him scurrying under the desk. He also hides when I bring the broom out, infrequently though that may be.

Men. Men in hats. Men sweeping with brooms.

Masks. I’m in full agreement with him on this one.

Paper bags. Plastic bags. Purses.

He also knows instinctively when there is a gun in the room. Not just the regular kind. If there is a nerf gun chucked under the couch by one of the boys, the dog hides until we put it in another room.

He is a climber and a runner. At our old house, the dog would climb the chain link fence and run into the woods behind our house. We tried an electric fence, but he figured that one out quickly. If you run really fast, there is minimal shock. How do I know this? The husband tried the collar first. **Sigh**

We don’t currently have a fence. We have three more kids to get out of the house before that happens, so the dog is stuck with a lead. We do occasionally attempt to bring him outside with us without a leash.

No one listens to me when I tell them he is going to run. It’s like they don’t even know the dog!

It’s not SO bad though. We live one block down from the kennel he visits when we leave town. 90% of the time he runs up the road and sits at their front door. Apparently, the kennel is a happening place.

If he sees a rabbit, he’s MIA for at least an hour. He always drags ass back and hides under the table. He won’t even look at us. He likes cats too. Except for the ones with the white stripe down their back. He chased one. Once.