Author: Big Mama

Some thoughts on some things

I’m not sure what my deal is, but I’ve felt a little tired and irritable over the last few days. Normally I can take a couple of Evening Primrose Oil capsules to level out my mood and give my hormones the illusion of serenity, but I got mad when I couldn’t open the bottle and threw it out the backdoor.

Oh, it’s a joke. I wouldn’t throw them out the backdoor. I threw them in the trash.

Anyway, I’m just going to list a few quick things that have been on my mind. I wanted to tell you that they all had to do with television, but they don’t and I’m not going to start lying now. And in all reality, if I decide to start lying, let’s hope I can make it more interesting than that.

Also, you may be saying, “Didn’t you just do a list thing about a week ago?”

Yes. Yes, I did. Thanks for noticing.

1. In a turn of events that supports my theory that my hormones are a little out of whack, here’s what I ate for dinner last night: corn on the cob, macaroni and cheese, and a glass of Chardonnay.

Some might think it would be hard to find a meal comprised of all yellow foods and beverages, but I found it surprisingly easy.

2. As I watched “24” on Monday night it dawned on me why I could never be Jack Bauer. (Other than the fact that I’ll never wear size 26 jeans and extra-small t-shirts) If I’d been contaminated with some sort of bio-weapon and only had twenty-four hours to live, I’d curl up in the bed with the remote control, a big bowl of chocolate chip cookie dough, and call it a day.

I’d also be on the horn calling everyone I know in an attempt to garner some sympathy for my plight, but kudos to Jack for saving the world instead.

3. Sometimes when I see a guy wearing some bizarre outfit or if I see a really tricky pair of men’s jeans with a lot of stitching, I do this thing in my head where I imagine P wearing that outfit because I have the mental capacity of a twelve-year-old and it cracks me up.

This game of imagination has never been more successful at completely making me hysterical than when Adam Lambert wore those tight, striped pants on “American Idol” last night.

4. And speaking of “American Idol”, when they showed Slash last night I made the startling realization that I had his exact hairstyle in my 1987 school picture.

Check it out:

With the exception of the hat, it’s like we were separated at birth.

And on that unfortunate note, I wish you all a great day filled with only good hair.
A good wallow

Last Friday, Caroline and I went over to Gulley’s house to spend the afternoon. The kids all ran outside to play and, after a few minutes, came inside and begged us to let them play on the Slip ‘N Slide.

Well, who are we to deny them the opportunity to break an appendage while hurling themselves down on the hard ground in an attempt to glide across wet plastic?

Gulley got the whole thing set up for them and then we sat inside in the air-conditioning and watched through the window. A few minutes later, Caroline came running in to inform us that the Slip ‘N Slide had a hole and wasn’t working. What is the world coming to when you can’t count on a $7.00 piece of plastic to entertain your children for hours?

As a consolation prize, Gulley handed them the hose and told them they could just chase each other across the yard. This solution brought a cheer from the crowd, so we went inside and resumed our in-depth analysis of various flavors of pita chips and whether or not we plan to watch the new season of “The Bachelorette”.

(I’m a definite yes. Gulley is on the fence because she has standards and hobbies other than watching a bunch of twenty-somethings cavort in hot tubs across the world.)

All of a sudden, we both remembered that we had children and looked outside in time to see this.

Let’s take a closer look.

Life lesson #275: When life hands you a water hose, make a big mud puddle and pretend you’re a pig.

I just hope it’s not a sign that they’re coming down with the swine flu.
How ’bout them cars and taters?

Okay, I’ll just go ahead and admit that I didn’t do The Shred at all over the weekend. I really wanted to, but then I remembered that verse in the Bible that says, “Man cannot live by shred alone” and decided to take those words to heart. Not to mention that I think I did something wrong during the ab workout on Friday and, as my MeMa used to say, I was down in my back.

The good news is I’ll be back on the shred train or wagon or whatever by 9 a.m. this morning. The bad news is I think if I’m honest with myself I have to move up to Level 2. I’m not looking forward to this new adventure in torture, but I completed Level 1 pretty easily on Friday and wasn’t even sore, except for the aforementioned back issue which was really just due to user error.

Yesterday I stayed home from church because I had a headache and just didn’t feel that great. Part of me thought that maybe it was the swine flu, but then I remembered that our entire yard is covered in yellow pollen which is my personal kryptonite. Seasonal oak allergies aren’t really newsworthy and certainly don’t get you any sympathy, although P did come home from church and cooked me a delicious breakfast taco using leftover tater tots from Saturday night’s dinner.

We are a people with a very sophisticated food palate.

And we ate tots while watching the Nascar race on Saturday night.

Then we bought four new tires for our house.

Anyway, later in the day I started feeling better and had the insane notion that it would be a good time to clean out my closet. I faithfully reorganize my closet twice a year and get rid of all the things I haven’t worn from the previous season, but I have been woefully late in taking care of that chore because I have been very busy figuring out who should play the lead role in the remake of “Footloose” now that Zac Efron has dropped out.

When I walked into the closet, I realized it was in need of a major overhaul. The whole thing just felt dusty so I decided to completely empty it of every piece of clothing I own. Here is our bathroom after I completed that process.

I swept it all out, dusted the shelves and then sat down and cried when I realized I’d have to put all that stuff back in there. And did I mention I also decided to clean out all my dresser drawers? And that I had a helper?

A helper who discovered a purple wig, mask and feather boa that I wore to a Mardi Gras party back in the days when we used to do more on a Saturday night than eat tots and watch Nascar.

After it was all said and done, I have three huge bags of clothing and shoes to give away. It’s the last vestiges of my corporate America wardrobe, some poor attempts at finding a denim skirt, some gauchos that I really can’t even discuss because I’m ashamed, and eight dozen t-shirts that seem unnecessary since I wear the same four t-shirts all the time.

Oh, and I had to throw out my favorite pair of pajamas EVER because they have a giant hole in the bottom. I tried to keep wearing them anyway, but P shamed me into letting them go. He has no appreciation for festive Hula girl prints.

I guess they weren’t classy enough for Nascar and tater tots.

As I packed up all the bags, I kept feeling like some things were missing that I’d just put in the pile. What the heck? Where are those leopard-print ballet flats that no longer have any fur on them? Where are those black ropers that I’ve worn exactly none times in the last twelve years?

Oh, here they are.

Apparently there was a mass exodus to the playroom via a five-year-old in the market for some new dress up clothes.

Now she and her friends can dress up as Sleeping Beauty or as Pharmaceutical Rep.

Many hours and chocolate chip cookies later, I had a completely organized closet.

And even more hours and cookies later, the playroom was clean and semi-organized if you don’t count the fact that I just threw random Polly Pocket shoes, Barbie accessories, and dried out playdough all into one bin.

And if you count that, I’m not sure we can be friends.

Unless, of course, you’re a fan of Nascar and tots.
Edition 60: Fashion Friday

I realize there have been moments this week when I’ve made light of the fact that we are in the midst of a swine flu pandemic, so I feel like in all fairness I should be serious for a minute and provide some tips on how to avoid contracting swine flu. Fortunately, my friend Corrie sent me this photo which serves as an excellent reminder of behaviors that should be avoided.

You’re welcome.

And seeing that pig serves as an unwelcome reminder that swimsuit season is right around the corner. Only the Shred can help me now.

Several of y’all have emailed with questions about swimwear and I wish I could produce some miracle of modern spandex that would solve all your woes. Just remember that you have nothing to fear except the fear of a swimsuit.

I don’t even know what that means.

In the interest of laziness and the fact that it’s way late since I stayed up to watch a live video feed of the Compassion bloggers in India, let’s start with a few tips that I blatantly copied and pasted from last year’s swimsuit edition of Fashion Friday.

When trying on a swimsuit:

1. Make sure you actually move around in it like you will when you wear it. Bend over, lift your arms, and move around to make sure everything stays in place. Because when your child takes off a full speed towards the deep end of the pool, you don’t want to have to worry about the girls falling out in mid-run.

And, hypothetically speaking, if your pool has a brand new slide that you decide to go down to impress your daughter, you don’t want to have to worry about almost losing your bottoms. Hypothetically speaking.

2. On that point, try different sizes to get the right fit. If the bottoms don’t have enough coverage, then try different bottoms. Going up a size isn’t going to necessarily help and may just give you saggy bottom syndrome once they are wet.

3. As painful as it may be, look at yourself in a three-way mirror to make sure everything you want covered is actually covered. Just a quick look is all it takes, don’t torture yourself.

4. Last of all remember that NO ONE will be more critical of how you look in a bathing suit than you. Every other mama is a lot more worried about how she looks than how you look. Find something comfortable that you feel good in and call it a day.

I realize this advice is over a year old, but it is still relevant. There are certain truths that will always remain and those are a few of them.

Now for a few recommendations:

If you’re looking for a suit that may perform a few miracles, then Lands End is a great place to start. They have swimsuits that offer all-over control and have a cute retro look to them. There’s also this halter-style one-piece that offers control.

If you need a little (or a lot) of underwire with your swimsuit, then one of my favorite sites is Aerin Rose. It’s a great line of swimwear with one-pieces, tankinis and bikinis that all have great support. Plus, they’re having a sale right now.

Here are a few more links to sites that have good swimwear selections. Beachbliss, Figleaves, Swimsuits for All, Lion’s Lair Specialty Swimwear, and Best Swimwear.

And here are a few suits that will get an extra shout out just because I think they are so cute. I love this Tommy Bahama suit, this paisley one-piece , and this darling tankini.

One last thing, check out all the cute cover-ups. I am particularly in love with this one and this one that can be worn as a skirt or a strapless cover-up.

Of course you could always go with something like this, rock a side ponytail, and channel Chrissy Snow from “Three’s Company”.

On a completely unrelated note but of much greater substance and importance, there are not words to describe the power of this post by Melissa and this post by Angie from the Compassion India trip. Both left me in tears as I read them yesterday. INCREDIBLE.

Y’all have a great Friday.

Here’s Mr. Linky if you have something to add on a fashion-related note.
I blame Jillian Michaels

Do you know how tired I am?

The kind of tired that makes you want to put a pillow over your head and go to sleep for days.

Apparently, I’m not the only one.

Of course the difference is that my arms are too sore to actually pick up a pillow and put it on top of my head.
I have renamed it the 30 Day Dead

It doesn’t really take a media savvy person to realize that there are two evil pandemics sweeping the country right now: the swine flu and Jillian Michael’s 30 Day Shred.

I don’t know much about the swine flu, other than the fact that I believe pigs everywhere are being slandered for reasons that are beyond their control and we may all turn into Howard Hughes if the media doesn’t shut up and find something else to obsess over.

Here’s a new topic for them: Why won’t Anthropologie send me a dishtowel since I link to their site constantly? Is it some sort of haberdashery prejudice because I am a thirty-something mom and totally uncool in their eyes?

I believe the answer is yes and that, my friends, is fashion profiling.

Anyway, unlike swine flu, I do have some experience with the 30 Day Shred. As a matter of fact, yesterday was Day 2 for me and, if I live to see the sun rise again, today will be Day 3.

God willing and my quadricep muscles don’t explode.

I can’t remember when I first heard someone mention the 30 Day Shred, but I remember thinking they were kind of overly dramatic about the whole thing. And if there is one thing I cannot tolerate, other than reruns of “Golden Girls” and water chestnuts, it’s someone being too dramatic. It makes me WANT TO PULL OUT ALL MY HAIR AND SET IT ON FIRE.

In fact, I vaguely recall thinking that I was the master of the “Fat Burning Pilates” DVD and have reached the point where I easily keep up with smug girl in the green sports bra (as I so affectionately refer to her), so what could 30 Day Shred possibly have to offer me?

Then I read this post by Vicki where she mentioned that she was on Day 11 of the shred and her teenage son walked in and mentioned that she had developed real live ab muscles. I haven’t seen my ab muscles since the second month of my pregnancy with Caroline so I figured the 30 Day Shred might be worth looking into.

But then I just felt too tired to order the DVD from Amazon. Not to mention all the effort it would take to actually open up all the cellophane packaging and place it in my DVD player.

However, Jillian and I had a date with destiny because as I innocently walked the aisles of Target last week, I happened up on the exercise equipment aisle where I saw her staring me down, perhaps even taunting me. I had no recourse but to buy the 30 Day Shred and some lime green hand weights. Thankfully we have a nice padded oriental rug in the living room so I didn’t have to buy a mat, although I wanted to because it was hot pink and oh-so-cute.

I decided to wait until Monday to start my new workout regime because I am firm believer in procrastination, especially when it comes to anything regarding physical exertion. Why sweat today when you can sweat tomorrow?

Then all of a sudden it was Monday and I knew it was time to shred. In a pure stroke of fortuitousness, I talked to Sophie on the phone and she mentioned that she’d also purchased the 30 Day Shred and was going to do it for the first time that afternoon. I believe that each of us laughed and said, “It’s ONLY TWENTY MINUTES! How hard can it be?”

I got off the phone and turned on the DVD. There was Jillian going on and on about pain is fear leaving your body and blah, blah, blah. She suggested that everyone start at Level One. I decided I’d start at Level One to appease Jillian and her cut-off sweatpants, but figured I was really way past that since I’ve been fairly consistent with my Fat Burning Pilates and elliptical workouts.

And by fairly consistent, I mean I’ve done them four or two times each.

Level One was an experiment in PURE HATE. I can’t confirm this, but I am fairly certain it is something akin to what the CIA uses to get terrorists to talk. The static lunges with bicep curl combo is enough to get me to admit to anything I’ve ever done wrong in my life, including the time I stole a Brach’s peppermint candy when I was four years old.

To add insult to total muscular injury, Caroline stood by as my cheerleader/heckler. Do you know what’s more aggravating than some muscular girl from a T.V. show taunting you with the fact that a 450 pound person can do more jumping jacks than you?

A five-year-old girl that you gave birth to asking if you “FEEL THE BURNING MAMA” over 100 times in a three second time period.

She even got the camera and took some pictures of me while I was working out.

This is the only one that’s fit for public viewing because in all the others you can see the profanity coming out of my head like the little thought bubbles in a cartoon.

When I finished, I collapsed in a big heap on the couch and in the words of Fred Sanford said, “I’m comin’ Elizabeth. This is the big one.”

But I survived and felt compelled to do Day 2.

In fact, I am determined to complete all thirty days of the shred even if it leaves me completely incapable of standing upright or reaching for a bag of Cheetos.

On the downside, there is a muscle in my upper arms that I never knew existed but is now screaming in pain and has requested abdication from the rest of my body.

On the upside, I’m not afraid of any kind of swine flu.

If anything is going to kill me in the next thirty days, my money is on Jillian Michaels and not some lame pig virus.

Make sure you head to Compassion Bloggers to read all the posts coming out of India. They are phenomenal.