Common Sense

In my last post I promised to talk about my "wildly successful diet." I hope I didn't get you too excited because it's not really anything all that special.

Let's start at the beginning.

As I mentioned, I was with my girls this summer ALL THE TIME. It was stressful at times, so occasionally we entertained ourselves by going out for ice cream, or hitting the candy aisle at 7-11. No matter how tense things got, we all agreed that a Slurpee and a box of Nerds can make everything all better.

As you all know, there are consequences to every action, and boy did I learn that the hard way.

Towards the end of my tennis season I went to put on one of my favorite tennis skirts and I could barely pull it up over my thighs.

I was so stubborn that I managed to wiggle it up over my big, beefy butt. When I finally managed to get it all the way on, it actually hurt, but I refused to remove it. I wore the damn thing through an entire tennis match in 100 degree weather. Can you say "intense pain, coupled with an atomic wedgie?"

You can't even imagine how lovely it was pulling that tiny little skirt down to go to the bathroom after getting all sweaty and THEN having to pull that thing up again. Absolutely horrendous, I tell you, and the chafing was beyond belief.

Are you getting the picture? It was ugly, but it was good for me, to realize how chubby I had become over the summer. I needed to punish myself, and I refused to go out and buy larger clothes.

As a result of the ass and inner thigh injuries I sustained by wearing that little pink girdle for three straight hours, I began paying attention to how many times a day I blindly threw crappy food into my mouth. A marshmallow here, a handful of fries, a bag of jelly beans, a few goldfish crackers. It was like a cash register of calories, CHA CHING, CHA CHING, CHA CHING.

I was at a crossroads, either I could continue to consume massive quantities of junk all day long, while my body slowly but surely expanded, little by little, OR I could become mindful about what I was eating. By the grace of God, I chose to stop the insanity.

I started to stop myself every time I reached for a spoonful of ice cream or a couple of Oreos. I stocked my shelves with healthy food, like granola, bananas, avocados, and salads.

I started drinking one coconut water in the morning and then lots of water all day long, and very quickly, I started to notice that my pants got a little looser and my belly a little flatter.

I've only been good for about 3 weeks, but already the results astound me.

So that's it. No South Beach, no personal trainer, just an awareness of what I was consuming and cutting out the crap.

I'm also going to start running again this week.

I'll admit that I caved on Saturday and had a few beers and some cheese fries at our local fair, but I'm going to make up for it this week.

So that's my secret. Pretty common sense.

Less calories, healthier food and lots of water equals a very comfortable size small tennis skirt.

I leave you with a few weight loss quotes:

The rest of the world lives to eat, while I eat to live. - Socrates

We never repent at having eaten too little. -Thomas Jefferson

and finally, it I'm having a bad day...

When we lose twenty pounds... we may be losing the twenty best pounds we have! We may be losing the pounds that contain our genius, our humanity, our love and honesty. ~Woody Allen


It's okay to be fat. So you're fat. Just be fat and shut up about it. ~Roseanne Barr

So who am I going to emulate? Socrates and Thomas Jefferson or Woody Allen and Roseanne?

Only time will tell.

(Now go Google COCONUT WATER, then go buy some. It's awesome.)

Coming up...who knows? But I'm always open to suggestions!!

School's In!!!

Yesterday "unofficially" ended one of the longest, hottest, driest summers I can remember.

School is back in session!!!

I'm so ready for it, and so are my girls.

I love my children and I very much enjoy spending time with them.


Just not as much time as we've spent together this summer.

There was WAY too much unsupervised time and the demand for me to create fun was stifling.

Sure, we had many moments of fun, but I am making a vow to save my money for next summer. We need some camps, classes and structure. With two girls four years apart, what's fun for one, isn't necessarily what works for the other. I tried desperately, but it was a bust.

I'm hoping my increased alone time will allow me to revive the old blog. I have really missed it.

In sadder news, I will not be attending this year's U.S. Open. My rich friend decided to invite her husband to sit in the Trump Box this year instead of me. Maybe she's still annoyed at me for inviting a bunch of people up to drink with us last year.

Since I'm saving every penny for next summer's day camps, I simply cannot justify shelling out the big bucks to attend.

If any of you are looking for a really fun companion take to the Open with you, I am ready, willing and able to oblige. I'll tell lots of funny jokes, buy you drinks and make it a memorable experience for you.

Really, and truly, it's killing me that I can't go.

Can you help a sister out?


Coming up: My diet, which has bee wildly successful and my upcoming Girl's Weekend in Atlantic City to celebrate my sister's 40th.

Stay tuned.

Pure Desperation

In exactly 10 days my children start a new school year, at which time I anticipate my brain functioning normally again.

Until that time, I am completely incapable of coming up with anything remotely clever.

I figure if I can't be clever, the least I can be is helpful to anyone who wanders over to this blog.

So here is a little something you might find interesting.

At this time, I'm going to ask any male readers to please move along to a manly blog.

You have been warned!!

Okay, if you're a woman, here is a product I just discovered...

Tampax Pearl.

I know what you're thinking..."she's 45 years old and she's just discovering Tampax?" Or maybe you're thinking. "Wow, she wasn't kidding, she IS desperate for material!!"

Whatever. I really am trying to help you, so chill.

Anyway...I have discussed this subject before, and perhaps you are familiar with my "little problem" the first couple of days of my monthly visitor. It's a real drag running to the bathroom every half hour to tend to my hygiene. When you factor in that I have to do this for approximately 24 days out of the year, feminine products are a big deal in my life.

I have been a loyal user of the standard Tampax tampons, but I got a free sample of these little gems the other day and they have set me free!

They are sooo much better than my old tampons. (Ewww.. old tampons...gross!!)

Let's just say, I can now go about my business with full confidence.

I love these so much that I now feel comfortable wearing my tennis whites each and every day of the month...JUST LIKE SERENA!!!

Take it from me...if you want powerful, convenient, leak proof protection, these are for you!!!!

Wow. This blog has really hit rock bottom. So, so sad.

Disclaimer: I am not responsible for any cases of TSS or other health hazards due to reader usage of Tampax Pearl. I have not been compensated for this endorsement. I have not been compensated for ANY endorsements, but I am open to anything. You know where to reach me.

I missed my Blogiversary! And a "by request" story.

Wow. Time flies. My blog celebrated a big milestone 2 days ago and I totally missed it. I could not, for the life of me, recall how many years it has been, but then I checked my profile and lo and behold...August 2007. It's been 3 years.

Writing this blog and reading your blogs has enriched my life, so much more than I ever anticipated. I have "virtually" met so many funny, sweet, thoughtful and special people through this little hobby. You are all great.

I want to thank those who commented on my last post. I don't usually write much about my children, I'm not sure why, but for some reason, I feel a little weird about doing it...like I'm invading their privacy or something.

Anyway, I'm glad I shared some of my concerns with you, because your input was VERY helpful to me.

My mother thinks I anticipate trouble before it starts, so I am going to try to practice the art of Zen and let things be for awhile.

Thank you again for your advice.

And now, as requested by my friend Dr. Zibbs, (a fellow West Chester, PA native) I will tell you a typical night in West Chester Pennsylvania, when I was 16 years old. Zibbs asked that I include some West Chester landmarks, which I have made bold for easy reference.)

Things would usually start and end with a lie. I would tell my parents that I was going to see the "Rocky Horror Picture Show" or going to the the Chester County Library. (Those were the days before the Internet, so in order to write a report I truly DID have to go to the library, where I would usually check out a few reference books, change a few key words around and plagiarize my "work.")

I would pack up all my books to make my story look good and then I would get picked up by my friend Suzanne in her electric blue TR-7. (A gift from her Dad who wasn't around very much.)

We would then meet up with some of our college aged guy friends who liked to hang out with high school girls. Sometimes we would drive to The Courtyard Inn to get some beer and then we would cruise to the reservoir on Airport Road to drink beers, crank tunes and be complete derelicts.

Some nights we would mix things up and use our fake I.D.s to get into The Rat, or go over to Rams Gate Apartments for parties thrown by West Chester University students. (That was always fun, because we would usually run into one or two of our student teachers, which was SUCH a thrill!!!)

After that we would cruise into downtown West Chester to pick up some Chicken McNuggets at the McDonald's drive-thru on Gay Street. After that I would make them take me to the 7-11 on Boot Road to pick up some gum and Visine.

Sometimes I made it home by curfew. Usually I didn't.

My parents would grill me about where I'd been, they would smell my breath and look at my pupils to see if they were dilated. Sometimes I would get the all clear to go to bed, other times I would get screamed at and grounded.

It all depended on how much beer we drank at the reservoir or The Rat.

So there you have it Zibbs. Now it's your turn. I have lots of stories to tell, but I'm too tired and and only a small portion of my audience has any idea where West Chester is.

The other problem is that my parents read this blog and stories like this tend to upset them.

At least now you know why I get stressed out about my daughter getting older. If she turns out like me, I'm going to have to take Xanax morning, noon, and night.

Thank goodness I got that out of my system when I was a youngster.

There will be no mid-life crisis for me. I got my ya-yas out way back when, sitting by the reservoir with my derelict friends, who, by the grace of god, also turned out to be responsible adults. I'll bet their parents agonized over their children's behavior just like I do and like I know my parents did.

It's a curse.

The curse of parenthood.

The toughest job you'll ever love.

What's goin' on?

Here I sit, AGONIZING over exactly what to write.

It was so easy when I could just cut and paste my neighbor's travel blog, but that could have ruined my life, so I was ordered by husband to CEASE AND DESIST. There is so much material here, it really isn't fair. I could blog for a year about them and it would never get boring.

They did make it back, alive. One of their dogs was almost dead, (Copperhead bite to the head) but they are all alive and well and continually knocking on our front door. *sigh*


Basically, my summer has been filled with entertaining overnight guests and keeping my daughters who are four years apart in age and have totally different interests entertained.

Not an easy task.

My almost 11 year old daughter who is getting really moody and hormonal and is only happy when she's texting her friends, or actually with her friends. (She has a very small group of friends, and if none of them are available, it's a nightmare.!) I am getting a bit stressed about her entering 6th grade, where, I am told some of the meanest girl nonsense starts. She is an awesome child. Smart, sweet, funny and very kind, but SO shy and with absolutely no interest in sports. When I was her age, I would go outside and skateboard, or ride my bike, or play with the kids in the neighborhood. That's not her thing. She has a tight little group of friends, and if they aren't around, it's quite frankly, a pain in the a**! The only exercise she gets is swimming in the pool or the ocean, but if none of her friends are around, she won't go, and if I force her, she mopes around the whole day.

Am I repeating myself? That's because it's stressing me out. Can you tell?

If anyone has advice, I am open to it. This summer has been a challange for me. My younger daughter makes friends easily and just runs and plays. She can keep herself entertained and make friends wherever we go. The older one is stressing me out. BIG TIME.

I also spend huge amounts of time cleaning up after my 3 dogs, who I love dearly, but who trash my house on a continual basis.

BOOORING!!! (At least to those who have to read about it here on my blog.)

I SWEAR I will come up with something entertaining soon.

In the meantime I might have to resort to funny YouTube videos to keep the old blog going.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to make my 11 year old work on her pre-algebra packet and finish her summer reading, after I confiscate her cell phone.

Please help me...PASS IT ON!

My friend Dr. Zibbs posted this on his blog and I feel that everyone in the world deserves a chance to view this amazing talent.

If you agree with me, please post this on YOUR blog.

I know my life is better because I viewed it.

Watching this clip just might have even been the best 23 seconds of my life. (Right after having my children and my wedding day...) CLASSIC.

Where were guys like this when I was in high school? I'm guessing they were deeep inside the closet.

I'm so glad this dude feels comfortable enough to let loose shake his groove thing...


Pass on the joy...

Nocturnal Admission

I am a nocturnal woman in an early bird world. Some would call me a "night owl."

I hear friends crow about how they rise at the crack of dawn, before anyone else is awake to go for a run, do a few loads of laundry and enjoy their cup of coffee before their day is filled with the demands of their husbands and children. They are so proud of themselves!!! Being an early bird is so admirable!! I discovered today that these bright eyed and bushy-tailed folks are called "larks." If you were blessed with the "lark" gene, you are a lucky person indeed.

I, on the other hand, am not so blessed. Being a night owl housewife is just plain shameful. (Unless of course, you're nursing a baby, or working the night shift at the emergency room.) I would love to go for a run, drink a cup of coffee and vacuum the house, at 1:30 am. The only problem is, these are all activities which are stimulants, which would result in my staying up ALL NIGHT, which would be fine with me, if I could sleep until 11.

If you want to have a good old time with me, come on over to my house at around 10 pm. I am a bundle of laughs at 10 pm. I am not, however, pleasant to be around at 6 am. (The only exception to that is when I'm curled up under my comforter snoring. And YES, I do snore.)

My energy level hits its stride around 4 pm. At 11 pm I am still rarin' to go. Tonight at 12:20 am I sat in my closet organizing sweaters, quietly, so as not to wake my slumbering husband. I felt ashamed. I should be sleeping, like all the other respectable citizens in this town. What's even more shameful is getting snagged in my pajamas at 10 am by some go-getter neighbor who has been up for 5 hours before I even open my eyes. Get off your high horse you annoying lark!!!!

I've been like this since I was a kid. When I was as young as 7, I would sneak a flashlight into my room and read until way after midnight. Sometimes I would even sneak and turn on records quietly in my room. The mornings were a nightmare. "Just five more minutes Mom, I'm sooo tired!!!"

According to my research, our internal body clocks (or circadian) sleep-wake cycle, which regulates hormone levels, body temperature, blood pressure, alertness and performance ability is genetic. My poor children have inherited my night owl gene. If we had it our way we'd all stay up until midnight, EVERY night. It is my job to fight our natural body clocks and function in our 9 to 5 society. Some school mornings, it gets just plain ugly around here.

Why can't my body clock work in a more socially acceptable way? Believe me, I've tried it, on myself and my kids.

I cruised the internet and came up with some pretty obvious tips to change my owl-like ways:

1. Set your wake-up time -- and then stick to it like glue. Ideally you should get up at the same time every morning, including -- gasp! -- those precious weekends. If you sleep more than 90 minutes later on a Saturday or Sunday, you will affect your body clock, readjusting it to the later wake-up time just as you have to get up early again Monday morning.

2. Seek light. Immediately upon awakening, expose yourself to bright light for at least 20 minutes, either by walking or exercising outside or using a special light box or portable light visor around the house, with approximately 10,000 lux of light.

3. Try melatonin. It's important to discuss this first with you doctor, but for many people, taking this over-the-counter supplement -- a synthetic version of the natural hormone -- about six hours before you want to go to sleep can help regulate your body clock.

4. Put yourself in a position where you can sleep. Avoid eating, alcohol, caffeine and exercise, which rev up the body, for at least a few hours before bedtime, and then turn off the TV, power down the Internet and get off the phone. Instead, turn to your MP3 player for some mellow music or a "boring" book on tape. That way you'll evade additional light exposure and be able to start winding down. "If you keep moving, keep doing things, you're going to override any sleep signals you want to be reinforcing,"

As you can see, there is no hope for me, except to change my nature. If you were born a "lark." God bless, you can just go with the lord gave you and the world will applaud your vim and vigor.

I, on the other hand, will have to fight all my natural tendencies in order to fit in with society.

It's not fair I tell you!!!

I think I'm going to start a revolution. This country is all about equal opportunity for all people. Am I right here?? I think we should have special programs in our schools for "night owl" children. Perhaps we can hire some special "night owl" teachers to start the school day at 11 am.

I'm tired of being discriminated against! Why should I have to fight the way I was born just because society tells me I have to get up at 7!!!???

Are you with me here? What do you think? If you're a night owl, do you feel sick and tired of trying to fit into society's schedule?

I think President Obama should take some of that stimulus money he has and implement some programs designed to help "night owls"function better in society.

I'm going to start my own group, and I'm calling it the NAANO. The National Association for the Advancement of Night Owls.

Say it loud and say it proud. "NAANO!!"

A representative from my organization might be calling you or come knocking on your door to ask for your support. When they do, please keep an open mind. Try not to see night owls as lazy, or strange. Remember, we were born this way, and we just want to be accepted.

Okay, I'm actually tired now.

Good night.

Please don't call my house before 9 am.

And please don't judge me.

Thank you for your support on behalf of the NAANO.