Christmas: Gifts Ain't Nothin' but a Number.

It's apparently Christmas time. I wasn't aware that that season now started on November 1st, was there a memo I missed? Some festive lights have been popping on in our neighborhood my house is still happily living in fall. I've decided not to be a bah humbug about it, but I am definitely not there yet. Yesterday I tried putting on my Christmas playlist in the car....yeah no.
Since I cater to a larger audience that just myself, I decided to start giving out some holiday advice now to help you better prepare for your holiday. Today I'll tackle budget setting.
I have already been answering questions from family and friends inquiring about what my 3 kiddos would like for Christmas. They tell me their budget on occasion to help me with ideas. I give them a few suggestions, but I add. "Don't feel the need to price match the kids, if Aiden's gift was $20 and Sophies was $12 please don't find 8 bucks worth of crap they don't need just to be fair". Save that money or donate it to my kids favorite charity if you must spend equally  (yes my kids have favorite charities). It sickens me to see that Christmas has become so commercial that we are programmed to think that it needs to cost more to be a great holiday.

When I was little, and still under the impression that Christmas was a special holiday full of joy, food, family, and the Peanuts gang, I never would've thought to question the dollar amounts of my gifts so I could compare it with my brothers. I'm assuming that since my kids aren't cynical adults, that they too, won't be concerned with actual cost. Now saying that, I'm not telling you to buy your favorite niece or nephew an effing pony and the rest chewing gum; but if Johnny really wants a baseball (but you set aside $20), so you buy more when all he cared about was the baseball, that's just silly.
Christmastime should be more about the time spent with family, warm nostalgic feelings, and dirty martinis (does everyone not associate this holiday with Bond's favorite beverage, so they drink copious amounts of them?) instead of breaking the bank.

This year I fully intend to go "all out" with Christmas cheer (on the day AFTER thanksgiving, the way God intended) and I can't wait to start shopping for gifts. I absolutely love gift giving. I do it all year long because I love it so. If my friends are ill, sad, happy, etc...they get a gift. I will buy gifts whenever I see something that reminds me of a loved one. It can be a bottle of wine for Missy or some Sasquatch cup for Brett- it is just something I love to do. Recently I started to think about what I will be getting some of my friends and family this holiday. I had read an article that suggested picking a theme for your holiday gifts to keep you on track. This idea sounded right up my alley! So I'm going with a secret theme for most of my gift giving this year. I will not be setting a budget, but a budget ceiling. "I will not spend over $whatever on this person." It sounds cold, but I think it'll help me actually expand my ideas. What about all the great stuff you can find under $50 that you'd never see if you're skipping right to the $100 +.  My husband recently turned me on to the best website. It's called, thisiswhyimbroke.com and I have already got a ton of great ideas from them. Expand your horizon! Get people you love things that they'll instantly love, instead of gifts they immediately move to their re-gift cupboard (admit it, you have one). Roll with this premature Santa spirit, and start researching some ways to change up or improve your holiday experience. Also homemade gifts are awesome too. I know I'd rather get ridiculous amounts of strawberry rhubarb jam from my Aunt Helen or salsa from my Aunt Irene than anything else they would buy me; hint hint.

So, that's my first bit of holiday advice. I'll be focusing on that "theme" of advice for the next month or so. I'm even going to start up an Accidental Housewife Pinterest page and Instagram. Be sure to look them up and follow!

I'm a Halloweenie

I AM A HALLOWEEN FANATIC!
I can't remember not being obsessed with the magical fall holiday of Halloween. While other children were patiently counting the days until Christmas or their birthday- I was busy planning my costume and waiting for my mom to put out my favorite decorations. I also love creepy things. Again, I can't remember not being the weirdo that both loved and hated scaring herself. I loved playing hide and seek with my cousins because I'd crave that rush I would get while waiting in the dark of my chosen hiding spot. However, every time I'd hear the seeker get close...I'd pee my pants.
33 years later and I'm still a bit too scared to play hide and seek but spend at least 1 day a week watching horror movies. Long story short: I love Halloween. I have also created 3 more little fanatics that plan their costumes in March and beg Mom to put out the pumpkin decor in September.
I'll be sharing some of my favorite Halloween traditions, crafts and recipes with you as well as fun holiday challenges.

HALLOWEEN MOVIE CHALLENGE 2014

I AM GOING TO ADD

1. IT'S THE GREAT PUMPKIN
2. GARFIELD'S HALLOWEEN SPECIAL
3. HALLOWEEN TOWN

These are all Kid friendly for sure, while the others depend on how you parent.

Why Infidelity is a Miserable Bitch

So, you've met the man of your dreams. Your heart is all a flutter with the hopes and dreams of your future with him. He buys you flowers, jewelry and takes you on weekend get a ways. This man is perfect. He'd be even more perfect if he'd ditch that damn wife of his.

Yeah that's right, he's flipping married. He bought a diamond, some china and a home with another woman. He made promises and children with another woman. 

Did he tell you she was crazy? Wax poetic about how he wished he'd met you sooner? Yeah I bet he did. He's a fucking liar.

No this is not about my personal situation. My husband and I are both way to far up each others asses to cheat. Our needs are met and we take our commitment seriously. Plus I'm Latin and he doesn't want to die. I am speaking of the numerous times that I've watched this story unfold around me. I've been the ear of friends that think they're in love with married men and I've listened to the grievances of the jilted wife. I've even heard the BS that can spew from a man who is cheating. All these years of listening have given me enough fuel to feel pretty strongly about infidelity and how it could be prevented.  

I used to love the show Reba. It had all the stupid crap I look for in a sitcom. Funny characters, a whiny teen, stupid antics. It also had the most unbelievable plot that I've ever seen. A divorcee living with her 3 kids, left with nothing after she helped her husband build a career to which he thanked her by impregnating his assistant. Of course they all become best friends and confidants. This plot line is probably what most men hope will happen after they bang their secretary, right? Everyone will be super understanding and move on. It doesn't happen that way. There will be insane bitterness and childish behavior. There will be tears, ugly tears, kim kardashian ugly tears. It's real life and being cheated on sucks.

When I was younger I had terrible taste in guys. I dated 2 different guys in high school and they both eventually cheated. The first one probably wanted sex. Actually I know he wanted that. I just wasn't willing to give it to him and he found girls that would. Good for him. The second one I had planned a future with. After 2 years, an engagement and me pretending to support his dumbass ideals he found a girl that was giggly and even younger who would make him feel like a king. That one really hurt. It's hurts to know someone lied and fooled around exposing you to diseases. Lucky for me I was 20 and apparently not really in love. I mourned that relationship for 3 weeks before picking myself up by my boot straps and moving on. Soon after I met my husband and the rest is history. I couldn't imagine the pain of having a man I had built a life with cheat. That pain wouldn't be fixed by some shots with your girlfriends and badmouthing his penis size. It would change who you were as a person no matter how much of a feminist you consider yourself. 

I would love to hear from even more people who have been in any of the situations I described above.  The wife, husband, lover etc. It would be anonymous of course and I would use the info for a fairly long research style blog post. If you're willing to share with me please email me at sarabelle81@gmail.com

Thanks Sarah

Homework Is BS

Homework is bullshit.

No, I'm not a 15 year old with tons of algebra and history to finish before I can jet out to the mall with my friends. I'm speaking as a 33 year old mother of 3.  I have 2 kids in grade school and they both have an average of 2 hours of homework a day. Add that to their preferred extra curricular or our family routine and they are left with no time to be actual children. My complete disgust with our education system grows every year, but due to the fact that there is no amount of alcohol on Earth that will make me patient enough to teach them myself...homeschooling is out of the question.

I like the idea of necessary homework. Practicing spelling words or a few math facts. I do not understand why my daughter needs to learn fresh concepts with me at the helm. I'm not qualified to teach math to anyone. I was once the dumbass senior in the freshman algebra class in High School. During the first week of 3rd grade my daughter came home with division problems. That would be fine except she hadn't learned how to even multiply yet and when school closed in May she was still on subtraction. So was I to understand that I could now add math teacher to the list of crap I do all day? 

More and more of my friends are starting to home school. When I was a kid the only kids that were home schooled were members of creepy religious cults. Now-a-days every other mom on Facebook is sharing her first day pictures of well rested kids in their pajamas doing science projects over breakfast. I wish I was capable of being that mom. I selfishly love my quiet days to myself when my darling angels are someone elses problem for 7 hours. I clean the house, lunch with friends, go to Target without having one argument regarding why I am not buying cheese puffs or another barbie.  I feel like I've put in the time, suffered the loss of my abs and the luxury of privacy and in return I'm given those days to myself.  I'm also a terrible teacher. Within moments of attempting to explain the concept of division to my 8 year old, I'm just doing it for her. Sure she writes it down but I'm the one counting the numbers and guiding her to the answer (guiding is a nice way of saying giving). She's tired of learning by 3pm. She's been doing it all damn day and wants her break. By the time we finish our first hour of semi-attentive learning she completely gives up. Tears begin to flow, her teacher's name is cursed and her older brother is now in the room telling her to shut up so he can concentrate. It isn't a pleasant experience for anyone involved. After we finish math, we move on to her spelling word practice, timed math facts, reading and reading log questions. Sometimes she brings home a school book and gets to re-read a story THAT THEY ALREADY READ IN CLASS THAT  VERY SAME DAY to me. Because everyone knows, parents love stories about fluffy bunnies cooking a stew that your child already knows the ending of and therefore is completely exasperated with the idea of re-living it. During the year they sprinkle in projects that are a complete waste of everyones time, not to mention the new common core curriculum that has made school work even more tedious.  "Solve the math problem, then write a paragraph on why you used that method"...REALLY? After 6 years on this side of the homework battle I'm ready to throw in the towel. 

No one is prepping for college in 3rd grade (my thoughts on college are for a complete other blog  post). My daughter doesn't know what she wants for an after school snack let alone have her adult life planned out. Elementary school is meant for learning basic knowledge and social skills. After school hours should be fun. Playing with friends, baking cookies, sports, actually reading for pleasure etc. 

Those things should be just as important as learning how to divide apples amongst a hypothetical group of friends.

America is not the educated super power of the day. Obviously our system isn't working. Instead of having quality learning and proper time management during school hours, we under pay teachers and force kids to spend time coloring the apples that they are supposed to be multiplying. Extra work is pushed off for the parents to handle and every year it gets worse. Kids come home from a long day at school and are forced into busy schedules at home. Rushing through homework isn't always an option so family time is put on the burner. When our kids can't focus with the ridiculous amount of pressure placed on them we pump them full of medications. We lose time for a proper family meal and toss frozen corn dogs or fast food junk at them in between different activities. Our kids are becoming fat little sociopaths. 

Since I can't fix the world (no one will let me, I keep offering) I've decided to pick one battle at a time. We parents have to possess some type of power. Our tax dollars pay for the education system...right? An anti-homework revolution needs to happen before our kids are clinging from a clock tower shouting obscenities at strangers after they finally snap. Who is with me? Or do you enjoy finding the answer to "How many of Pablo's friends got green apples and how many got red"? 

I already went to school. I'm too old to re-live 3rd grade.
Plus...calculators are awesome.

It is fall...because I declare it so. A housewives ode

Bust out your yoga pants ladies! It's fall. Sure its 100 degrees outside and the trees are still greenish,  I'm in an autumn state of mind regardless. I am officially declaring it so. I'm sure if Oprah made that statement instead of little ol me and my teeny audience it would have more bearing. I had a long summer. It was both busy and fun yet boring at times. It was freaking hot. Heat makes me moody. I also hate wearing summer clothes. The cloud of melancholy has always followed me. That type of personality was made for chunky knits and corduroy skinnies, paired with knee high leather boots and those adorable boot socks peaking out. Come on ladies, you are so excited to bust out that outfit. On days where you just need to make a Target run after hitting up Starbucks for your Pumpkin Spice latte (or my personal fall drink, Chai Tea Latte), you pull out your favorite pair of yoga pants and a cute hat. Whether or not you actually do yoga is up to you. Speaking of our housewife mecca, Target. Have you been by their fall section yet? I'm currently trying to snag up the patio stuff on clearance. In my hometown fall is when we start eating outside more. It's too damn hot to host a party in the summer. Everyone ends up hanging out in your kitchen with the AC blazing. In fall we go outside. I've already filled my patio flower pots with cinnamon scented pine cones to set the mood. My house would be covered with them too if my husband hadn't banned them to the outdoors. Don't worry about inside though. I've got my harvest scented Scentcy and apple pie candle going. My dogs are munching on pumpkin flavored raw hides (they're confused but will eat anything)  while I do laundry in my perfect climate (aka got the AC bumping') in a complete amber haze of autumn.

Whey do we love fall so much? I do not recall the housewives of the 80's and 90's being this nostalgic. I completely blame Target and their clever hipster marketing team. They've made fall more awesome and the other stores just followed behind. Who do you think follows the stores? Wives and mothers and those damn kids.

I've always loved fall. It was and is my favorite season. I grew up in  northern Utah and fall is beautiful there. While I'm glad my family moved from there when I was 11, I am so grateful to those fall memories of leaf piles and orange hues. I'm grateful because fall in my life since has been hot. It sucks. Because it sucks I've had years to perfect the faux fall that seems to be all the rage now. My oldest son was my only victim. His birthday happened to fall in October and that is by far my favorite month. I'm a Halloween fanatic (see above's melancholy cloud) that is in a very festive mood all month long. Well, I cheerfully packed his bag for the hospital. An adorable little pumpkin long sleeved outfit and a brown chunky lion beenie. Well, that kid entered our house in a short sleeved onesie with the name of the hospital on it and beenie free. It was 95 degrees outside. It was worse than the week before when I was still huge and pregnant. At least then I could sit in a cool pool half the day. Even the best fall faking can sometimes be reminded that I don't live in a quaint Connecticut farmhouse seen on Pinterest, but a sweaty dessert valley in California.
I haven't purchased my first Chai Tea Latte yet but I'm nearly there. I think everyone has their own personal touches that get you into the fall mood. We can't all be about yoga pants and coffee. I used to love being a kid this time of year and can only remember the really good things about seasons. For example, I loved having white Christmas's but never had to drive in the weather or shovel my sidewalk twice a day.  I'm sure there are annoying or trivial times in my memory somewhere but they aren't there when September hits and I immediately get excited. A couple other things that immediately put me in a fall mood are the dang pine cones and The Rocky Horror Picture show. I but the cinnamon pine cones the minute they come out (Michael's is always first in mid August) and then watch that movie while the kids are at school and I'm power cleaning. I have seen it 800 times and don't need to sit and watch. I sing the songs while stepping over pets while carrying laundry baskets all over the house. It's my me time and it's amazing. In November these things will switch to baking cookies and Christmas Vacation. I'm the most predictable person on earth.
I'm patiently waiting for October to hit. My favorite month is filled with 2 of my children's birthdays, a Broken Bells concert with my husband, Monday night footballs with our best friends and my beloved Halloween. So help me out ladies. Lets declare it fall and get the good moods flowing. Turn on The Great Pumpkin early this year or turn up the speakers in your SUV to your fall mix. You don't have a fall playlist on your iPhone? Stop reading immediately and make one...

my early fall contributions

Stay at Home Guilt?

I am a stay at home mom and wife. I hadn't known I'd enjoy it as much as I have. I've never missed a milestone or event in any of my three children's lives. I have gone to every doctor appt, playdate and every lesson. It isn't a lifestyle choice I made prior to having my first child. I simply quit working because it would cost me as much in daycare as I was going to make. My husband had recently started a business, we'd just bought a more expensive home and it was a very stressful first year, but we squeaked by and I fell into a routine. Being alone with my son was awesome experience, however it had its drawbacks. I was lonely, sleepy, sometimes even bored and  had lost all connection with the outside world. By the time baby #2 and #3 showed up I could scratch more and more of that off the list. We had made great groups of friends with children (we were the first of all our pre-kid friends to have kids), 3 tiny people running around make it hard to be bored, they're old enough now to allow me sleep and their school, my husband and my friends keep me pretty connected to the world. I'm very very content and happy with my job.
What could possibly be wrong with my life, right? Well I'm going to admit to something that most moms are never supposed to admit...we are sometimes selfish, lazy and guilty. Harsh? Quite, but true. I have chosen lunch with a girlfriend over errands or housework. I've laid on the couch and had a Pioneer Woman marathon. All of the aforementioned occasionally makes me feel like shit. When my kids were all home during the day I was a martyr for the cause. "I'm exhausted!" I'd exclaim when my husband would come home from work. I'd secretly pout while everyone was relaxing or playing and I'm having to make dinner, eat last, clean it up, etc. I was self-righteous at times and jealous of my husbands ability to be very close to his pre-kid self (admit it guys, your wife does wayyyy more) all the while letting yourself go or putting yourself last.  Hey, I carried, delivered and breastfed 3 friggin children. Sure I'd get like a week off after each delivery, but I was still needed to be on my toes. I was a saint. I had earned that shit. Fast forward a few years and at least 4 days a week completely kidless. I've got 2 in grade school and one in Pre-k and thanks to a fabulous Mother in Law- a "nana and kid" day. Its a Tuesday and she's done it with each kid before they go to school and it used to be the only free day I had. I'd shove grocery shopping, dental/doc appts and occasionaly a lunch alone with my husband. I now have my choice of what day I go grocery shopping. I can go every other dang day if I want to, and sometimes I do. I have lunch with my husband almost all of those days, and sometimes I purposely don't leave the house so I get to all those unfinished projects, deep cleaning, gardening or writing. Sure, I'm a neat freak that does actually clean her house every day. I also know that as moms our days are almost always filled with laundry, kid care, straightening, cooking and any general housewife stuff. Even our "days off" are filled with chores or unexpected messes. However, they don't take all day anymore. You aren't donating 4 hours a day to toddler food messes or play disasters. Also it's much easier to run  errands without your kids. A grocery trip that used to take 2 hours plus cost twice as much, now takes 40 minutes tops and thats with browsing. Life is easier.
I decided to go with my dream to start writing professionally. Even this decision makes me feel guilt ridden. Of course the minute I have more kid free time I go and select a barely paying job that I can do whenever and in whatever clothes I want to. As I type it is 12pm and I'm still in my yoga pants (I never did any yoga) and the shirt I slept in. My eyebrows are sparse and my usual cat eyed makeup isn't to be found. Hell, I haven't even put a bra on yet. My house is immacutaly clean thanks to my usually burst of energy at around 9am. My menagirie of pets are napping all around me and I'm on m 4th cup of coffee. My chores take such little time comparatively that I actually re-designed my youngest daughters barbie house. I feel the usual twinge of guilt at how easy I have it. My husband is a small business owner. Not only does he have to worry about his family and his wife's lavish Target lifestyle, but a dozen other families. My girlfriends that work outside the home have to work all day to come home and run their household. I can't help but feel a bit awful.
Yes I'm beyond blessed and my life isn't like every stay at home mom. Some have many more kids than I or have a child with special needs. However, if your story is similar to mine than it's time to admit that our life rocks. Everyone says we have the hardest job on Earth. That depends on what your definition of hard is. Yes I have to worry about my kids and how their raised, but so do parents that work. We don't care for our children more because we stay home. A household that is strapped for cash and having to both work while living on a strict budget has it so much worse than I do. I am lucky enough to not "have" to work. Yes it would be great if I could contribute more financially. We are by no means wealthy and without a care in the world. I have to stick to a budget and there is no excuse for my house to be dirty. I'd be re-evaluating my life if I was at the spa  twice a week or sipping cocktails by a pool all day. I'm by no means a kept woman. I just need to quit feeling like a mooch.
3pm remains the worst hour of my day. It's when all my kids get home. It's not that I don't  want to see them and hear about their day. I love their faces and laughs so much. Sadly, life isn't an episode of Leave it to Beaver and my kids are generally yelling at each other or bitching about being hungry. They are sweet children but 3pm they are little monsters. How can that not make one feel guilt? 

Is it our lot in life? Feeling bad about our choices? Maybe someday I'll get a higher paying job outside the home. Maybe someday I'll learn to feel only thankfulness for my situation. Being a mom means giving 110% of yourself to your children while balancing the proper treatment and love for yourself and your spouse. I only hope I learn to balance before my last child gets married. Maybe I never will. Until I figure it out I am going to slap on my yoga pants and head to target with Starbucks in hand. Maybe I'll find my peace there.

Another set of School Year Resolutions

Twas' the week after school starts...

Well it's after school hours so I've got plenty creatures stirring at this moment, but I've had a pretty successful first week of routines and schedules. It is the time of year for tired kids and peppy moms. I love it. It's during this week of the year that I like to make my Resolutions. I like to spend my New Years Eve swigging champagne and eating fondue... not waxing poetic about the things I need to improve.
Every year a few remain as staples. This proves that am not perfect (I know, shocking) and/or shows that at least I'm consistent.

***

1. I will exercise and take better care of my beloved temple. 

This one is always there but has been modified. I have substituted "lose weight, ya fat-ass" with "take better care of myself. This change is hugely important. I have spent so many years focusing on my weight and my jean size. I have ruined many experiences for myself because the gnawing feelings that I've had due to my body dysmorphia have caused me to become depressed. Something about turning 33 made me realize that this is what Ive got and I need to learn to love it. I have accepted that I am far to lazy and enjoy wine too much to ever look like I did in high school again. 

I've decided to be aware of what I put in my body, take care of my body and move my body. This includes the mind as well. 

2. I will write more

Also a consistent resolution. The pressure is really on this year as it's my last year without a child in grade school. When my baby finishes pre-k this year I will need to have my ducks in a row. Writing a book, keeping up with this blog, pushing copy for money and getting published are all on my to do list this year. I must write, write, write. 

3. Stop yelling so damn much

I'm a yeller. I blame it on my fiery Latin blood. I get passionate about certain circumstances and explode. These can include but aren't limited to: dirty dishes left on counter tops, kids asking the same inane answered question over and over, tripping over a random pet, dirty clothes lying next to hampers or children fighting. I start to get a spurt of anger and ultimately yell something foul in Spanish. Occasionally I'll single out the member of the family that deserves my wrath and go to town. I have raised 2 out of 3 yellers. My middle child is quiet with her anger which I've decided is much more frightening. This year I will attempt to channel my inner Michele Dugger and discipline with a calm demeanor. However, I think this one will be included next year. 

4. Say yes LESS often

I am a people pleaser. Under my gruff exterior and behind my resting bitch face is a giver. I hate letting people down. My fear of having people call me lazy or mention that I never pull my weight has driven me into a complete frenzy at least 75% of my life. This fear has caused me to do all the work for school projects on numerous occasions, wear a whole lot of bridesmaids dresses, help friends with their chores, do other co-workers work for them etc. After my kids went to school I had extra pressures placed upon me. I did not want to be the mom that didn't help or didn't pitch in.  I'd volunteer to make things, correct things, organize things, etc. "yes I'll get the donuts and pizza", "don't worry about it, I'll happily drag my toddler around with me while I fetch everything on the party supply list" and so on. This last year pushed me over the edge. I hated begging other parents for money or being the only one to volunteer. I decided to just be a random faceless mom this year. It promises to be bliss.

5. Stick to a friggin' household budget

Really nothing much to say here but, Damn I suck at money now. When I got married I was like a big breasted Ebenezer Scrooge. I pinched my pennies, saved for rainy days and worked extra jobs to keep myself independent. I'm convinced that my husband ruined me. His more lackadaisical financial style blended with my tightwad tendencies and created a monster. Years later I hardly ever balance a checkbook or make sure the savings account is over stocked. With automatic debits for all of our bills and luckily a decent salary I haven't had to worry. Sadly my lack of worry is the payment for the fact that we'll be working until we are 85 based on the way we are saving. Old Sarah plans to spend her golden years rocking away in her chair, watching old horror movies, crocheting blankets and enjoying her glaucoma prescription. I might wanna start saving up or else that dream will die.

What are your "New School Year Resolutions?"

I highly suggest getting yourself a list going. Moms need to be constantly improving themselves. I mean if we falter...who will run the world?

Love And Hate With My Big Boobs

In honor of breastfeeding month I thought I'd write about my eventual acceptance of my large chest. Feeding babies helped.

***

It all started in the 5th grade. I started to notice my chest size increasing. "Why now?" I thought. I was still sort of a little girl. My barbies were still re-enacting my grandmothers soap operas and telenovelas. My favorite television show was Double Dare and Popples still graced my bed. Surely I was just getting chubby, not boobies. I would lay on the floor on my stomach hoping to smash them flat, all the while praying to God to remain titty free just a few more years. My highly medically form of breast reduction didn't work and I was a full C cup by the time 6th grade commenced. 

My chest size became the topic of many a whispered conversation. It seemed that I was the only girl at my school wearing a legitimate bra. Buying the bra was just as horrifying as putting it on everyday. My mother would be sent back out into the bra department to grab bigger sizes as I sat in the dressing room with tears in my eyes.  She had started with the training bra and that had proved to be a rookie move. My breasts had remained small enough for that ridiculous "starter" bra for exactly 12 minutes. I assume those minutes passed as I slept in my Popple filled bed because I don't remember having mosquito bites laying on my chest. We left the store with beige 18 hour bras that came in a box. I'm glad that my parents decided against the sexier bras that came on hangers since it allowed me to be childish a bit longer.
By 8th grade my body had transformed into a damn swimsuit model during the summer. I had grown the last bit of my 5'8 height and my waist had slimmed and dropped the last bit of baby fat. My breasts had also settled for a 34 D on my thin frame to really pull the look together. If I had been 22 maybe I would've been okay with this new body. During an assembly a boy sitting behind me was able to unlatch my bra. The mortification was epic as I ran to the bathroom in tears.  I began to wear the baggiest clothes I could stand and walked with a slouch. I have always hated being the center of attention (probably why I write a blog and don't have a vlog on youtube) and I really hate attention from the opposite sex. I blamed my breasts for this attention and that began my hatred of my body.

Fast forward to adulthood and I had a new baby boy in my arms. The fear of pain from breastfeeding had him drinking from a bottle during his first day of life. I hadn't made any milk or colostrum yet and was afraid he wasn't going to get anything to eat. That immature notion had caused issues with him latching. Getting him to accept my nipple over the soft latex one on the formula bottles full of milk was a challenge and it eventually took 3 of us working as a team to make breastfeeding a success. However, once he latched on and began to eat I was absolutely in love with the act of feeding my baby with these things I had once loathed. I powered through all of the situations that arise when nursing your babies. I nursed while having Mastitis three times. I suffered with clogged milk ducts and one really uncomfortable kid free trip to Mexico with one breast that wouldn't pump. I held my head high as I walked around with two very large breasts that were distinctly different sizes. Ugly nursing bras, noticeable nipple maxi pads, fighting the urge to wake my sleeping baby to soothe the pain of full jugs and the inevitable eye full of milk spray that my kids all experienced. I wouldn't have changed a thing. I would sit and watch my baby eat all day if I could. By the time I realized I was feeding my final child I would cry at the thought of someday having to ween her. I had become so in love with our special time together that I never wanted to quit. I would still be breast feeding her today at 4 years old had my husband not intervened and encouraged me to get a new hobby. It was time to move on from that period of my mommy life and give more time to my family as a whole.

The absolute best thing that happened during my breastfeeding experience was my new found love for the breasts I had hated for so many years. I didn't stare at myself in the mirror trying to picture how much better my clothes would look without such a huge built in shelf. I started to laugh at my booby related mishaps. When the inevitable food dropping would land on my shelf I'd just laugh and say, "you can't take me anywhere".
It is nearly 11 years since I started my new love of my breasts. I fed 3 kids for 6 years with these things. I had secretly hoped that I would have the same post-nursing problem that some of my friends developed--incredible shrinking breasts. However, they remain even bigger than they had begun.
Luckily I have come to terms with my large chest. I still wish I could jog without 2 bras on or avoid the back and shoulder pain that comes with the territory. Maybe someday I'll get the nerve to have a reduction and purchase every halter top within arms reach, but until that day comes I'll keep shoving these mounds into my size F cups and pray that my daughters don't overly develop. That would surely kill their father.

The Summertime Blues

Was there a document that we signed as parents that informed our children that every day of summer was going to be a damn adventure? I blame capri sun commercials and Phineas and Ferb.
When my children are in school my life is scheduled like a busy OR. I have days that I do the grocery shopping and days that I do the laundry. I am able to fulfill all housewife affiliated duties without too much stress and/or interruptions. It's bliss. Then those dreaded months in the middle of the year roll around and screw it all up.
I'll admit it- mid-April I am 100% excited for summer. Either that or I am 100% done with "helping" my kids with school projects, spending my time organizing class parties or dealing with the barrage of bitching and fighting that happens every day at approximately 3pm. I start planning fun family outings, themed movie days, read-a-thons, etc. My Pinterest "Summer fun" board is full of outdoor games, lists of 101 almost free things to do this summer, recipes for shaved ice and other bullshit pins that I'm probably not going to bring to life. It's not because I'm a crappy mom or because I'm too cheap or lazy. This stuff most likely won't get done because my kids never want to do the same thing and I am too damn impatient to listen to 3 children fighting over who gets to fill up the water balloons or what flavor of jello to use for the jello shaved ice.
I have sweet kids...most of the time. They're respectful, responsible, well mannered and kind. However, they have very different personalities and as much as I would love to have a summer that reminds me of mine- the times have changed. In the late 80's and 90's I spent my summers with my best friends across the street. When we were bored we would ride bikes for hours, stick a sprinkler under a trampoline or play every board game in the cabinet. My memories of these days are good, they are warm and breezy and taste like root beer flavored Popsicles. In our neighborhood there aren't a ton of kids. My oldest child has friends around the corner and he is at the age where I feel ok with him riding down to his friends house. My two daughters aren't allowed to cruise the hood. Even though we live in a wonderful area with little to no crime, I've always lived with the theory that pedophiles and rapists are hiding in every bush waiting to snag my child. I also grew up in northern Utah where the normal summer high can be pretty warm but doesn't take your breathe away like it does here. I wouldn't let my dogs spend much time outdoors in this weather let alone my children. So what are we going to do to make fun summer memories?
The other day I tried out my read-a-thon idea. Nothing would've gone worse. They fought over spots to lay on, whether or not someone was reading out loud or making clicking noises. I ended it at 45 minutes and hid in my room until my husband got home...not the proudest moment.
I know that when they are older they'll remember the good stuff about summer in the way that I do. My mother was probably equally annoyed in 1991 listening to me whine about being bored. Hopefully they'll remember the living room camp outs with their buddies and the 900 pool days at their Nana's. They might smile when telling their kids about the camping trips in our new RV and all the random little weekend trips. I just wish they'd see those things now so I wouldn't have to feel guilty every time I finally get to the piles of laundry.
I think We Moms and Dads should do 2 things: Loosen up about all the daily stuff that isn't getting done this summer and to tell our slightly entitled kids to chill the hell out. We can't all give our kids the summers they see on the Disney channel. Some parents work, some don't have the funds for limitless entertainment and some of us do not have the personalities that are required for daily crafts and themed meals (however I suspect most of it is completely made up on Facebook to make their former high school classmates forget what evil bitches they were). Summer is only half over and I'm going to start implementing the changes tomorrow. When my kids come to me and ask what the plan is for the day and give an irritated sigh when you say "Sorry kiddo, someone has to keep you in clean undies"- just hand them a book or a laundry basket full of clothes that need folding. Summer should be for everyone to relax, not just the kids.

If you need help...enjoy this suggestion I found on iMom.com

My take on this Hobby Lobby business

*Joy and Steve Warning. Your baby girl is about to discuss where your grandkids didn't come from.*

I love birth control. I love it even more since ol' Scott got fixed (my days of freaking out over a missed pill are over). Birth control is something that will be continuously debated until they find a way to please everyone. Since that's never going to happen, I'm going to toss my 2 cents into the giant opinion fountain and pray that I don't lose the new followers I fought so hard to procure. 

I am a Christian, Wife, Mother and Libertarian. I believe that we are on this earth to make OUR own choices. If your desire is same sex marriage, smoking copious amounts of weed, worshiping in your church, giving money to the homeless, having 20 kids,  shooting heroin into your eyeball or have your 8th abortion go for it; just avoid making it my problem. 

Hobby Lobby is this ginormous craft and decor store equivalent to Michaels on Lance Armstrong type steroids. I personally don't shop there. It isn't in my desired area of town and it's too big for me. However, many of my friends love that place because in its 8 million sq feet you can find literally anything (including supplies to make your own crafty IUD). The problem with Hobby Lobby -or "HL" as I'm going to call it- is that they are a Christian company and do not want to cover the birth control for their employees that Obamacare includes. My first reaction was to roll my eyes and say "Why wouldn't they want to prevent people procreating?" Hell,  90% of my month is wishing there weren't so many people in line at Target so why not help control the population? Well I had to go back to my fundamental beliefs- HL is privately owned cooperation and they have the right to determine what they will give their employees and what they won't. I came to this conclusion after a long discussion with my husband (a small business owner) in regards to fair business practices and employee rights. 

I've read the bible. I was 15 and bored as hell. It was sitting there, dusty and unopened so I decided to start on the first page and read it like I read my Stephen King novels. Some of it was great, some boring, some down right dirty (Song of Solomon). I built my own faith having only gone to a church with my grandma as a child. Even with my strong love of Christ and desire to live for Him, I still screw up daily. I swear like a trucker, get angry in 2 seconds flat, flip off my fellow drivers, damn am I judgmental and I did not wait until marriage to have sex. 

My experiences with birth control began in a cold room at the local Planned Parenthood in St. George, Utah. I had a long term boyfriend to whom I decided was "the one" (he wasn't) and because responsibility has always been my middle name, I put my legs in the uncomfortable stir ups and slid my butt to the edge of the table for my first pelvic exam. It was like being assaulted. It hurt and I cried. My friend Cassie had gone with me and half way through the exam I had wished that I had drug her ass in the exam room to hold my hand. When it was over I received a brown paper bag full of condoms and pills. I took my pill at the same time every day and waited the required 30 days and one full cycle before actual sex could occur. That boyfriend and I lasted another year before finally realizing that we were not going to get married. We both quickly moved on. He got a girl pregnant early in their relationship (bet he wished she was as responsible as moi) and I met the love of my life, Scott. I will not go into details but Scott and I lived together as a married couple long before our June 2002 wedding and needless to say I stayed on that pill. The reason I tell you this story is to inform the masses that Christian girls have been known to need birth control. I'm thankful every day that my ex and I didn't make a child. He has a happy family and my life is teetering on perfect. 

I wish that HL would allow their employees the full benefits, but it's their business. The moment we allow the government to dictate how we run our lives and business we might as well flush freedom down the toilet. These last few years have been exciting for some. The rights of our gay community to marry has been important to so many. So why do we fight for same sex marriage and then tell a privately owned corp that they cannot refuse birth control. If one doesn't agree with this than they can apply at one of Hobby Lobby's competitors. This same argument goes to my fellow Christians. Why are your rights so superior to your neighbor? Christ taught us to love not judge. Your right to refuse birth control is exactly the same as anothers right to marry. YOUR RIGHT.  I would never go into a Jewish owned deli and demand a non- Kosher hot dog, but I imagine that there is some 300 lb, sweaty jerk that is damned if someone is going to refuse his right to a sausage made of lips and assholes. Would you boycott that deli? 

Last year Chic fil A was in hot water over their support of prop 8. As a supporter of gay marriage I cringed a little over their politics. However, their chicken is the most delicious form of fast food on Gods beautiful Earth so I swallow my disappointment with a honey mustard chaser and move on. Why? Because it's none of my business what another business does with their money or time if in their eyes they are protecting their religious freedoms. 

*Obviously my Libertarian beliefs wouldn't allow for murder or physical harm on a person for religious reasons so quit typing your snippy response.*

Hobby Lobby and Chic Fil A have put themselves into a precarious position, but that is their right. Boycott if you must but also calm the f%$k down. Our local Michaels is right down the street and you can easily shop there without insulting your Facebook friends. Our bodies, our businesses, our religion, and our marriages are just that...OURS. We need to begin taking back our rights to say no to what we don't want to participate in. That's freedom. 

In conclusion I would like to point out that a 60 count variety pack of Durex condoms cost $20 bucks on amazon.com and Crocs cost $35. No one is stopping you from ordering those. 

My Ode To Trader Joes

I FREAKING LOVE TRADER JOES. I know that immediately puts me into the wannabe hipster granola category, but I couldn't care less. I love the convenience that the store brings my life and I'm going to pass on some of my TJ tips to you people. If you don't have a Trader Joes in your town...well that really sucks.

Items I can't live without and therefore venture passed Rosedale Hwy (a really shitty road in my hometown that I rarely pass because I'm a neighborhood agoraphobe) AKA Buy These:

1. The Bruschetta Sauce:  When you walk into the store head over to the produce, cheeses and meats section first to pick up the first couple of my must buys. The Bruschetta is the yummiest, most versatile item that I get from that joint. I use it to make classic bruschetta, pasta salad (usually with one of their awesome stuffed tortellinis like 4 cheese or proscuitto), top grilled or baked chicken with the sauce and shredded mozzarella and broil for a simple yet fancy dinner, top fish or steak as well. I also have found that an egg white omelet is much more tolerable with this delectable basil and tomato concoction. I'll include the recipe for my grilled bruschetta chicken and my bruschetta pasta salad below this post.

2. Fancy Ass Cheese:  My favorite food is fancy cheese. Grab some organic grapes in the produce section and one of the wide variety of crackers they have and BAM you've got my dinner. My kids were raised on higher end cheeses from different regions because of TJ's. At age 3 my sons favorite cheese was Brie. He would request it at restaurants and get shocked looks out of the wait staff. Most of the time I'll see what strikes my fancy that my family hasn't before and pick it up to try. One of Scott's favorite things is to come home after work to find some cheeses and wine on a platter in the kitchen. We drink wine, eat cheese and talk about our days while I cook dinner. If you banish your kids to the back of the house then you've carved out a mini date for yourself.

3. Tzakiki:  This classic Greek sauce is the bomb diggity part of the last gyro you enjoyed. I think it might be the only reason that I love gyros. Shockingly this sauce isn't as fattening as it appears so it's another great shortcut to make simple healthy meals. I grab chicken and sauté it with salt, pepper and dried dill, stuff it into a whole wheat pita with romaine lettuce and red onion slices; top that stuffing with tzakiki and I promise you're family will enjoy this dinner. Add fruit as a side dish and you've included all of the nutrients your kids need for a meal.

4. Ezekial Bread: I love this bread. It's one of the only stores that carries it and it's packed with nutrients. There really isn't much to say about it other than buy it and make either chicken salad or egg salad to put in it. You won't regret it.

5. Tempeh and Tofu: Sure they sell tofu everywhere. My kids actually love it and I like to toss it into stir fries every so often. Tempeh is the one that is harder to find. Over a year ago I decided to try out a Vegan diet. I had received some troubling blood work results after my yearly physical and watched a documentary called Forks over Knives. I ended that flick with a ridiculous motivation for being a vegan. I actually kept it up for 3 months and lowered my shitty genetic cholesterol number back into the safe zone. My desire for steak eventually trumped my desire for eating plants only so clearly that was just a phase. However, I do still enjoy incorporating vegetarian diets into my families lives. Tempeh is a great way to make meatless meals such as Vegan Ruebens or Baked Buffalo Tempeh Tenders. Start having at least one meatless meal a week. Humans aren't made to consume as much meat as we do.

6. Cookie Butter: Give your kids a spoonful of TJ's cookie butter and watch their faces light up. This is by far the most delicious of all the "butters". My daughter Ellie loves to top her pancakes with a thin coat of cookie butter before she eats them (she's not a fan of syrup). They taste like Peanut butter and Sugar Cookies love child and you'll be very glad that I recommended it.

7. Garlic Olive Oil: this oil really saves you a step when you're in a rush and don't feel like chopping garlic. I like to drizzle it on top of chicken before I grill it to give it a garlic flavor base. Its delicious and doesn't need much of an explanation.

8. CHEAP BOOZE: I hate it when my wine fridge is running low. I like to know that I could have a spontaneous wine tasting party at any moment. Don't we all? Trader Joe's isn't all 2 buck chuck (which I now refuse to drink because I feel I've evolved). You can get any type of wine your heart desires. I highly recommend the MacMurry Pinot Noir. It runs at about $15 bucks and it's well worth it. 2 buck Chuck has it's place though, in the hand me down wine rack of a 22 year old college student.

So there are my 8 reasons to make the trek to my local Trader Joe's. Their prices aren't bad and they have the absolutely nicest employees ever. Period.

BRUSCHETTA CHICKEN

serves 4

4 chicken breasts grilled with Garlic Olive oil and salt n' pepper

1/2-1 cup of TJ's bruschetta 

1/2 cup shredded mozzarella

a few pinches of fresh Parmesan 

4 sprigs of fresh basil to top finished chicken. People will think you're fancy.

After grilling up your chicken or better yet- after your husband grills the chicken, top breasts with the amount of bruschetta you'd like (I enjoy the "tons" portion) and some shredded cheese. Place in High heat broiler for about 2-3 minutes or until the cheese is melted and bubbly. Remove and sprinkle with the freshly graded parm cheese and top with a basil sprig. I serve this with a fresh green salad and crunchy garlic bread.

BRUSCHETTA PASTA SALAD

serves 6

1 package of prosciutto stuffed (or really any kind you'd like) tortellini from TJ's cooked and drained

1 can of drained and rinsed garbanzo beans

1 can of drained and rinsed kidney beans

1 cup of kalamata olives (you can guess where I buy mine)

1 container of feta cheese crumbles

1 container of bruschetta 

Add all of the ingredients to a bowl and place into the fridge because it's best cold. With this salad you can add more beans, different veggies or maybe even jalapenos. Just adjust how much bruschetta you add. Believe me, you want that to be the main flavor.

Get your reusable grocery bag and get to the store!

What the hell

Today was one of those days. Kids ate whatever they could reach, over fed the fish and watched movies in their jammies...all day. I don't feel the slightest but guilty.

Bulge Battles and Me...a love story

It's my least favorite time of year...Summer. When Olaf the snowman sang about his desire to see summer in the movie Frozen, he failed to mention squeezing his tubby snowy ass in a swimsuit or the dreaded the thigh chubs rubbing against the inseam of his shorts. These are the things I think about in mid-April when it dawns on me that I ate and drank my way through the holiday season (which I've determined goes through Easter) and I will not be rocking the bikini I haven't worn since George W. Bush's first term. My love/hate relationship with my body started at birth and has continued into my 30's with no sign of being tucked away with all the other things that Mommy Sarah has decided don't matter (i.e. my dream of having straight hair, winning a Pulitzer, having a torrid love affair with 1970's Chevy Chase). I have been torturing my body for years and only now have I decided to figure out why. So I started reexamining my childhood.
When I was 12 I started restricting food. I had been skinny my entire life until puberty and I was desperate to loose the baby fat that had accumulated in my middle and face. My body had formed into the "apple shape" that I've been trying to hide my whole life and I didn't know what else to do. By the time I graduated high school I was perfect. I was tall, thin, tan, and with the witty sense of humor of a young Diane Keaton. I was not healthy...at all. I frequently lost hair, was lethargic and suffered from intense hunger headaches. My daily diet consisted of a big Dr. Pepper and advil. Needless to say, I was a mess. My new boyfriend (Scott) didn't think being thin was worth all the trouble. He gave me an ultimatum--him or my lifestyle. He won.
It's been 13 years since Scott convinced me to eat. I married him in a size 6 wedding dress and felt like I'd finally found a way to be happy with the way I looked. I felt more energy and no longer felt sickly. Just when I began to be comfortable with my new body Scott got me pregnant. Fast Forward 11 years and three kids later and I'm the jolly mess you see today attempting to find a swimsuit that falls somewhere in between stylish and Amish to cover all my least favorite parts.
When did it become the norm to be skinny? I've seen photos of Bettie Page and Marilyn Monroe in their bikinis. They had large chests and full hips. They didn't have that flat as hell stomach that we aspire to today. By no means were they "fat" (a word I loathe but use daily) but healthy and sexy. Somewhere in the techno filled 90's everyone stopped eating. I blame all the heroin. Models got thinner and thinner and pressure to be small increased. I fell for it and apparently everyone else did too or cleanses and fat wraps wouldn't exist. I understand the desire to be young and hot before kids but now the pressure is on for moms to be MILFS and this chick can't keep up.
We are mothers raising little humans into the adults they'll become. I know I fell victim to the tortured rants of all the adult women in my life bitching endlessly about their muffin tops or the number on the scale. "Look Mija I look like I'm pregnant with a horse" my beloved grandma would say while patting her stomach. She didn't realize how negative words against herself would affect my life. My little brain would tally up all the negativity my female influences had and tack it onto myself. I saw that these beautiful, successful, smart and caring women placed their self worth in the size of their clothes and while they didn't mean me harm, they impacted the way I viewed myself.
So now I am the mother of a son and two daughters. They've heard me call myself fat or seen me refuse to go swimming around strangers. They've seen me do a few fat cleanses and diets. They've seen my weight fluctuate. They've heard me speak negative words in regards to the way people look. Although I believe I'm a good mom and I don't mean to do/say these things around my kids I know they've taken it all in.
This is where I am today. I don't want my kids to think it's okay to be obese. I'm in no way saying that we should teach them to eat whatever they want and live lazy lives as long as they're happy. Obesity causes health issues that are killing Americans every day. What I'm simply saying is that instead of forcing yourself into a swimsuit to make memories with them (I read that in another blog recently and is a great notion) we should be wearing them to show our kids that everyone is made different and we are all beautiful. I will continue to teach them that the right foods are fuel for our mini temples and that exercise keeps those temples healthy. I will buy cute swimsuits and walk around in them because I shouldn't care what others think. My body might have loose skin and stretch marks in the midsection but that's because I had big healthy babies in there. My boobs might be pretty damn big and hard to smash into cute tops but they fed 3 children and make my husband happy. I'm by no means obese and by no means done trying to be healthier, but I'm done trying to be anybody but Sarah. I'm a wife, a mom and damn good person. I'm going to own all of

that, chubs and all. 

99 Problems

I've got 99 problems...but a movie career ain't one

My open letter to Gwyneth Paltrow

Sorry I haven't written in a while, but to be completely honest..........I'M BUSY

The other day my middle child told me she couldn't wait to be a grown up. She'd watch TV late at night and stay up until she is good and tired. She'd eat cookies for breakfast and mac and cheese every night. Ellie's days would be filled with playing fetch with her dogs and tween movie marathons. Life would be epic. I rolled my eyes at her assumption knowing damn well that being adult rarely includes any of her dream activities. Cookies give me immediate stomach aches, mac and cheese goes straight to my back fat and my days are filled with carrying loads of laundry in a basket while attempting to Parkour* my way through the maze of lounging dogs and the random collection of shoes that my kids toss all over the halls in an attempt to keep me teetering on insanity. I will let my daughter continue to believe that life will be only fun and games after high school whilst occasionally giving her life skills to save her when the shit hits the adult sized fan. I really can't complain about my life. When we started our family it was our decision for me to put aside my career asperations and focus on our children. Those children that we (for the most part) conscientiously made and are our current reasons for living. When I trip over the ginormous labradoodle laying horizontally across the doorway to the laundry room and spill piles of tinkerbell underpants and basketball shorts, I try to remember that this time is short and these hooligans will be off discovering the truth about adulthood and no longer depending on me to clean their underwear. I get irritated but I'm grateful. 

Recently, actress Gwyneth Paltrow opened her mouth and said some pretty insipid things that re-ignited the long simmering "mommy wars" that only we moms totally understand. When you're little like my Ellie, you are told that you can have it all. Gloria Steinam burned her bra and in the smoke we women were "guaranteed" that we could be wives, mothers, friends, social butterflies, career women AND sex goddesses all at once (and not always in that order) without any of our responsibilities being neglected. We are women! We are tough! We bleed for a week without dying! Surely if anyone could pull multiple lives off it is us. I am sorry but that is complete and total BS. We are constantly over worked, tired, crabby and guilt ridden. If I'm going to be able to take a totally relaxing, rejuvenating nap or bath then my jobs for the day better be finished or else I feel lazy or selfish. It isn't true, but as a woman that wants to be a good mom and wife...its a thought that enters my brain daily. Gwyneth Paltrow says that it is far easier to be a regular working mother than a busy Hollywood actress. Ms. Paltrow needs a severe wake up call on what every day mothers go through. I don't have an office job. My job is maintaining the home and family that my husband and I built together and making sure I raise 3 responsible, kind, open minded, non-drug addicted children. If I added a friggin' job outside the home my brain would explode. However, many women don't have the benefit of being home all day. They either worked very hard for their career or need the money. They don't make millions per movie and have the extra funds to hire a nanny or housekeeper. Not only that but why should other people raise our children. When Paltrow decided to have her children (you know the ones shes saddled with ridiculous names) she gave up the right to bitch to the masses. Maybe she should call Madonna and bitch about how exhausting it is to work a job that requires so much of herself. 

Look, I get that every mother's experience is her own. I also know that MOTHERS are the most judgmental people on Earth. When I need a good old fashioned vent session I don't usually go to my friends that are working mothers. They don't understand my issues and deep down I know they're rolling their eyes on the other end of the phone thinking "please she doesn't even have to wear a bra every day".  Gwynnie should call up one of her friends and bitch and moan about her difficult life--not put it out there to give us little people a case of the fits. The mommy wars are getting old and I don't want to keep them going. If we stick to the cardinal rule of never comparing our experience with others than maybe we moms can all live together in harmony. 

I'd love to say I take my own advice but clearly I don't. I'm pissed and that bitch ruined Iron Man.

*Parkour (French pronunciation: ​[paʁˈkuʁ]) is a holistic training discipline using movement that developed from military obstacle course training.

Perfect Parent

What is the worst part about being a mother? Is it the dirty diapers? The sleepless nights? The lack of six pack abs and perky boobs? To me the worst part about being a mother is wondering if you are doing it all wrong.
When I met my husband we had a ton in common. We spent the year and a half before our wedding discussing politics, religion, art, music, etc. We also discussed the fact that neither of us wanted children. I come from a large extended family but a small immediate family and Coop comes from a small everything. I didn't want a child to hinder any growth we could've made personally or together. I had thought I'd become a district attorney fighting for the good guy and putting bad guys in jail. I didn't picture breastfeeding, knowing what a blowout was or sitting with patience to hear my child answer one of Dora's dumbass questions. God has a hilarious sense of humor and I know this the hard way.
When Aiden was conceived I was trying to keep my monthly visitor from coming during our belated Hawaii honeymoon vacation. I had recently been told that I had endometriosis and that it would be difficult for me to get pregnant. Clearly 2 weeks of pausing my birth control would never complicate my future...right? Well it did, and 3 weeks after my experiment with menstrual prevention I started puking. I assumed I had eaten something bad or had picked up a nasty case of food poisoning. Pregnancy was the furthest thing from my mind. After vomiting for the fifth time at my workplace a co-worker suggested I take a pregnancy test. 'Impossible', I thought. I have been on the pill for a couple years and never had a scare- Plus, I am Not Able To Make The Babies.
After 2 positive tests and one super fun visit to my doctor I discovered a tiny Aiden growing in my stomach. I immediately flipped out. I called my mom and fought through tears telling her of how I'd ruined my life and paused any growth in my education. She tried not to sound excited, but I knew that she (like everyone) was so happy to be expecting a baby.
I grew into my pregnancy and slowly excepted my fate. I was to be a mother and there was nothing I could do about it. After all, I had been married at the time of conception and my husband had a good job. I had no reason (by Bakersfield standards) to be disappointed. However, I feared that I wasn't cut out for the mom job. I had been a terrible pretend mom to all my childhood baby dolls and had killed the fake baby I had to care for in Economics class. I hated most children and despised all forms of basic domestic responsibility. I was NOT A MOM.
On October 1, 2003 I gave birth. I held a beautiful, wide eyed baby boy in my arms for the first time. Never in a million years did I think I'd be a good mom. I only gave myself a 3 month window for breastfeeding. I assumed that I'd hate it and only be able to do the bare minimum to assist in my child's healthy growth. I actually nursed for over a year! I watched as months flew by in my sons life and I hadn't managed to screw up a thing! I cleaned his explosive blow outs with ease. I nursed him through colds, growth spurts and teething. I sang to him and rocked him to sleep at night. I was obsessed with his perfection. I was a mom.
Now I'm the mother of three. I'm fairly good at it. I have been through ups and downs with my children and managed to come out the other side. However, everyday I worry that I'm not doing it...right. Think of all the advice you received once having children. The minute you announce your pregnancy it flows in. I'm guilty of it too. I have jumped at the thought that I could pass on my huge amount of knowledge to the unknowing, inexperienced woman about to deliver her first child. Hell, I am writing a freaking blog on the subject. Every person has a different story. "Don't let your child cry it out, it'll damage them", "Let your baby cry, it'll make them a more independent person", "Whatever you do- don't let them watch TV because it'll damage their concentration", "Buy them the Baby Einstein DVD's because it'll make them smarter."
We listen and nod but secretly worry that we will never know the perfect way to parent our children. For me it is my greatest fear. I have one serious responsibility. I need to make sure I raise Godly, sweet, responsible children. The thought keeps me up at night. In actuality, we have no clue how the future with unroll. I could do my very best and end up with a teen mother or a drug addict. What I do need to focus on is doing my- very- best. I need to listen to their issues and not pass judgement. I have to make sure they feel loved while inflicting discipline. Being a parent is the single hardest job on our planet. It makes me cringe when I see people slacking off at that job or being discontent. The world is a crappy place sometimes. The only thing I can hope for is the new generation of human beings. I teach my kids to be kind, thoughtful, non-judgemental and good. I want to know that when I pass on that my kids will be here to make me proud.
Life is such an interesting thing. We are born and we die. The middle part is what we do while we are waiting for the here after. I hope to make my middle the best I can. Those middles could do with a lack of sociopathic, ingrate, narcissistic and douchey offspring. How do you want to leave yours? So the last bit of unsolicited motherly advice I'm going to give is to go with your gut. Don't care what other people think you should do with your child. You will always think you know what you're going to do in every situation but you actually have no clue until that situation pops up. The perfect parent is not a myth. I am the the perfect parent for my 3 knuckleheads and I imagine you are or will be to yours.

                                        Baby Aiden and myself in 2004. Trying to figure it out.

I Didn't Die...I Just Got Lazy (Slowcooker Coca Cola Tri Tip)

So it's another year and time for another set of resolutions. Last year I didn't write a speck for this blog, and I didn't write a single recipe. I was so damn...blah.

During the first few days of 2013 my husband broke nearly every bone in his left foot while having a very heated Nerf gun war with my son and his friend. That break required a very lengthy surgery and became the theme of our year.  The year definitely had it's ups; concerts, vacations, more Disneyland, births, and victories. However, it was the downs that seemed to loom over everyone I know. I feel like I slept through 2013 and tried to ignore all the doom and gloom around me. Now that 2014 has started I feel awake and determined to live this year up.  Starting with my usual bullshit resolutions that I rarely accomplish (there went the no cussing) is this blog. I have had numerous people say, "What happened to your blog?", "You're so funny, you should write this stuff down" , "Have you ever thought of blogging?", so I decided to get back to grind of funny housewife anecdotes and run on sentences.

First things first will be recipe writing. I love to cook. I figure that my job consists of raising non-serial killer children, keeping a house filth free, managing our family budget, caring for the pets that the non serial-killer children swore they'd care for, driving all over town for various activites and preparing meals. Now aside from hanging out with my kids- being the family Chef is my favorite job. Not that cleaning up our cats latest kill or sticking my finger in my dogs butt to "milk the gland" isn't fun <insert sarcasm>. I love to get on pintrest and collecting cookbooks, so I'm clearly very inspired. Someday I'll figure out how to put a link to pintrest on my blog but I'll put that into tomorrow's goals pile.

Today is a crazy day in the Cooper house as we have 4 rooms in our house being painted. There are random men walking in and out of the back of my house and I'm mostly confined to the living room and kitchen. I decided to toss a tri tip in the slowcooker for dinner tonight and I'm going to share my recipe below. Serve it with warm rolls and home made mac and cheese for a very cozy January dish.


SLOW-COOKED TRI TIP
serves: 5
2 lb tri tip roast
1 can of coca cola
1 cup of water

1 tbsp worchishire sauce
1/4 cup of red wine 
1 large onion sliced
2 tbsp minced garlic
couple dashes of salt and pepper per your preference
1 tsp cumin


This part is ridiculously easy for your laziest of days. Spray your slowcooker with Pam. Toss the sliced onion on the bottom and then place your roast on top. Sprinkle on the salt, pepper and cumin. Spread the garlic on the roast and pour in your liquid ingredients. Set it to Low and it should take between 6-7 hours. Check in on it here and there because I have found that slow cookers can vary. I shred up my roast afterwards and put it on a halved roll with a little spoonful of the liquid poured on top and form a juicy sandwich. Horseradish, Dijon mustard or salsa are all my favorite condiments with this sandwich.
ENJOY!!!