Tough As Nails

Opinion of the day: Some women seriously need a bar of soap stuck in their mouths! I wonder if they know how their potty mouths detract from their beauty. I don't understand how the F word became a sentence filler for life. Maybe when you're younger, you think you look and sound tough the more expletives you use, but in all seriousness, there comes a point when you should realize that your sentence fillers should be a bit classier in public. I don't care what you do on your own time but there's no need for a beautiful woman to be cursing like a sailor as was my experience in the nail salon today. I already hate getting my nails done. I just do it because, well, I feel more put together when they're done. Usually visiting the nail salon is a nice experience. My nail salon is small and the girls are friendly. It's the type of place where you always see the same people, the owners care who you are and remember your name ( and they paint your nails to perfection!) and the mood is pretty much always pleasant. Today as I sat in the pedicure chair, feverishly programming new workouts into my I touch, my ears had no choice but to listen to a woman talk about her mother in law and literally tear the poor woman to shreds. You could tell she was the type that didn't take to criticism well because all she talked about was how insulted she was that her mother in law called her to express her hurt feelings because she didn't receive a call  to see how she was feeling after a series of tests that were run on her at Sloan Kettering. I would have been hurt too! That sounds pretty scary. Everyone needs to know that they matter. She continued to curse like a sailor and tell her friend that there was nothing wrong with her mother in law so why should she call her to see how she was feeling? I'm thinking to myself "Hunny, you are obviously some piece of work, and your mother in law knows it!". A person who can't take criticism usually goes tit for tat and that's just the angle she was taking, "well she never called to see how my son was feeling when he had a cold!" (Are you kidding me? Two totally different scenarios here! Just say you're sorry! She's family!) Have you ever been around someone who just carried a negative vibe with them. Well this was her. Mrs. Negativity and all I wanted her to do was stop talking because her mouth was polluting the ears of the few children that were hanging out while their mothers got a half hour out of the house to make themselves feel pretty in peace. Peace they were not getting. Everything out of her mouth was negative and soon the whole nail salon was drenched from the storm of expletives and miserable vibes pouring out of this woman. Ok, so maybe she was having a bad day. I've had plenty,but when you're in such a small place with lots of people and kids around have some respect. Torture your friend with texts about your day, don't subject the entire 600 square foot nail salon and all of its occupants and then be a nasty patron when you leave to boot! I came up with an invention idea a while ago, it's probably already being invented by someone out there though. At my old nail salon, the women doing nails were most definitely talking about the patrons. I thought that it would be so great to have an app that translated every word they said and maybe if it was negative (which it almost always is) the app could give you a quickie comeback in Chinese! Ahhhh that would be so amusing. Anyway, I don't need that app anymore because the women who do my nails are nice and speak English, but I was thinking that it would have been really helpful to have an app that could have muted this woman. It would have been seriously funny to see how even more ticked off she became when she realized that no sound was coming out of her mouth. I guess the point is that it would be nice if people were more courteous in small spaces that were filled with elderly, people looking to relax and take care of themselves in a non threatening environment and innocent and annoyed children praying that their mother's nails would be painted and dry already!

Family Values

Is it  just me or has the quality of both child and parent in this world taken a tremendous nosedive? Here's a scenario that I somehow became an unwilling silent cast member in last summer. The setting takes place at The Christmas Tree Shoppes where a child and mother are literally telling each other off in public. Child : (About 10 years old, wearing lipstick might I add) "Why don't you shut up! Look at your stupid hair!". Mom: "I'll kill you if you don't shut your #$%*!#$ mouth!". Child: "Yeah, keep wearing that fake hair! I told you I'm done. I wanna go home already!". Mom: "You know you're a little (expletive)! Child: "Yeah, a ha. Loser". Mom:(looking at me for some reason as I finger through picture frames) " I'm gonna (expletive) kill this little (expletive). Me: (Eyebrows pretty much raised so high that they're under my hairline, thinking to myself) " Wow. I need to move. Immediately!". Back when I was a child, this scenario wouldn't have happened in a million years. I would have never spoken to my mother or father in such a way. Most of my friends had the same upbringing. We had a fear of our parents. It wasn't a bad fear though, it was more of a respect type of fear. Once the law had been laid down, that was it. If you did something wrong you were punished or worse grounded or worse than that...grounded for life! That might have included no phone calls, no play dates, no television or maybe missing a friend's birthday party. One thing was for sure though, there was no way out once you weaseled your way into being punished. There were rules that I had to follow on a daily or weekly basis.  I had to go to church every Sunday and there was no getting out of it. The one time that I did put lipstick on, my mother made me wipe it off and told me that if I wore it, that I'd be the talk of the town. Well I didn't want that! My homework had to be done before any television shows went on and I wasn't allowed to watch television for that long either. We cared about school and strove to do well, even if we didn't. If we got a note home, we were in trouble, not the teacher. We had to ask if we could play video games and they were only allowed on the weekends. We were involved in sports, had dinner as a family every night and went outside to play with our friends. God forbid I even said the words hell or damn in my house. This was a time when your parents watched how they spoke and they made it a point not to use inappropriate language around you. If they did, then odds were that you would repeat those words outside the house and no one in the neighborhood would want you hanging out with their children or worse maybe you'd get a bar of soap in the mouth, "A Christmas Story Style". My point is, that there were consequences. I don't see any consequences today. I see parents giving in to their children and I see children running the show. I see parents making excuses for the bad behavior of their children and their children standing right next to them with a smirk on their faces. This baffles me. If these people were raised by a generation of parents that enforced rules, then why are they not enforcing those same rules and demand for respect on their own children? Sadly, The Christmas Tree Shoppe situation is not the first of this nature that I've seen play out before my eyes. I think my eyes let that particular mother know the embarrassment that she should feel for her behavior as well as for her child's, but honestly, I really don't think she was embarrassed at all. This classless family behavior is becoming the norm and it's simply scary to watch. I think a lot of it has to do with media. What is acceptable on television and on the radio has changed so drastically. I almost feel like I'm ancient right now saying these words but the truth is I'm not that ancient at all! How much further can the envelope be pushed? The kids of today are really exposed to so much that were taboo when I was their age. There was a beauty in that though, because you had time to figure out the unknown. Today, there are no secrets. Children know about everything. That's where parents should be stepping in but for some reason they're not. Have they forgotten that they can actually sensor what is being watched on television in their homes as well as the very words that they choose to use in front of their children? I'm sorry, but Family Guy is not a cartoon for children. It's an adult cartoon that by all means is hilarious.....for an adult. It would be so nice to see the innocence of a child last longer than it does now. I guess the only thing that you can do is keep the memory of the dysfunctional family circus that you might have encountered at a public place and remember that you are a role model as a parent. It is now your job to show a developing mind what is acceptable and what is expected and that there will be consequences! I think a parent should think about the consequences he/she faced as a child and make sure the consequences that are dished out actually matter to your child, no matter how heartbreaking it may be to take something away. If the consequences don't matter, then what lesson was actually learned?

Who Asked You Anyway?

Sometimes I scratch my head when thinking about the words that spill out of people's mouths. Everyone knows someone or has known someone who loves to speak impulsively and almost forces their views and beliefs on you. They feel kind and good about themselves for sharing....the only problem is that they have just made you feel like complete garbage and .....oh yeah.....you didn't ask for their opinion.  You're left thinking, it's one thing to state your opinion but when you try to force it and end up making people want to crawl into a hole after sharing their thoughts, you've gone from a helpful Dear Abby type person to an army sniper type person who has just fired a sneak attack on the validity of your opinion. In my experience, when a woman is pregnant, many of those snipers come out of hiding. It's like your baby bump is attracting them from all different directions. It's like they're all part of a secret society.....The Pregnancy Snipers Society......."Incoming....woman with a baby bump! Time to attack! Get ready to force all of your opinions on what she should be doing on her!". All of these people think that they have the be all end all advice on how you should be feeling, what you should be doing,what you shouldn't be doing, what you should be eating, what you should and shouldn't be taking etc etc. I'm in no way trying to take away the fact that they had first hand experience being pregnant and that maybe some of their advice could be valuable and helpful, after all some of the advice I received from other woman was helpful because their stories were mirror images of what I was going through at the time. Who made them pregnancy experts though?! Look, you definitely can't take whatever you want when you've got a bun in the oven and you definitely shouldn't go sky diving! There really are some things that you really can't do and shouldn't do. One thing is for sure though......much of that old school advice that is now viewed as completely unsound is actually still being shoved down the throats of fragile minded pregnant women! Sometimes I felt like what people were really trying to say was...."Just hide in a hole for nine months doing absolutely nothing. Don't even breathe the air. It will hurt the baby. You'll be safest in the hole. Don't worry, every now and again your husband can bring you food. All garbage food by the way because you're eating for two now!"(untrue fact. You shouldn't eat for two, you should eat more but literally eating for two can cause ludicrous weight gain with a chance of gestational diabetes! It's in the pregnancy books!). I remember someone telling me, "Oh, you're still working out?! You need to stop immediately!". A personal trainer actually told my friend not to do shoulder presses with 5 lb weights because the cord could get wrapped around the baby's neck. Are you kidding me? That is old and untrue information and a complete myth. Get your information straight! You've never been pregnant anyway! This was hilarious to me! I can't even count the amount of books and articles I've read that stated the numerous benefits of exercise and pregnancy! One article even stated that children of mothers who exercised during pregnancy slept through the night sooner, were happier, calmer and were able to self soothe more easily! How's that for the positive effects of exercise during pregnancy. I can easily say that all of these facts proved to be true for me. My son is good at all of these things and has been for a while. I even noticed that he loves most of the music that I listened to while I was pregnant and exercising. Truly amazing! Some of the other ridiculous pieces of advice included, Don't go out in the sun this summer, you will fry your baby! Really? Then how come all those other pregnant women were walking on the beach? What about all the celebrities I see on magazine covers on getaways with their families? Is there going to be an epidemic of fried babies this summer because there sure are a lot of pregnant women enjoying the outdoors!(Yup. The hole must be best.) Now, I know about the whole cold cut thing but I really don't think having one cold cut sandwich was going to make or break me. The hovering, judging eyes didn't agree. How dare I enjoy a quarter of a cold cut sandwich once during my entire pregnancy! "You know, you have to watch for listeria.". "Yup. I know. That happens when meat is under cooked or improperly prepared. I've read all about it."(I'm reading the pregnancy books, thanks, but apparently you're a walking encyclopedia for pregnancy, so why should I bother? What's my co pay?). Someone even questioned what face cream I was using. It's not like I was eating it. Then there were the people who loved being pregnant and thought you were the most horrible person for not enjoying the experience. I thought, "What is there to love about being sick and throwing up all the time?". You see, people forget that everyone has a different experience. There's no reason to have preconceived notions about what kind of a mother one will be if they hated pregnancy.It didn't have any effect on how I feel about my son. I love him to the depths of my soul! I felt like I was faced with this judgement a lot because I really disliked being pregnant. I was one of the few who had not just morning sickness, but all day sickness. I was a teacher, so everyday at around 11:35, the smells of the food cooking in the lunchroom would ooze its way through the vents. I remember constructing a makeshift bed using pillows from the library area and laying down during my lunch period to try to ease the constant nausea. I could smell everything!.....right down to the air freshener that my tenants were spraying. Because of my new sense of smell, I was able to figure out when one of my tenants was enjoying a cigarette even though  no smoking was allowed. They were shocked when my husband and I called them out on it. I couldn't help it if I now had an unwanted superpower of sense of smell...."It's a bird! It's a plane!......It's Super Pregger!.....and she has a sense of smell that could easily qualify her to fill in for a police canine if for some reason they all had to take a sick day! This new sense of smell made me even more nauseous and I wasn't holding much down. My doctor prescribed me something to take only if I really felt so nauseous and couldn't stop throwing up. I remember the people around me making me feel really bad about it. Comments ranged from, Oh, I would NEVER! Or I've never heard of that? Have you? Or the best one OH MY GOD! who is your doctor? (as if I had chosen the wrong one or had an inability to choose someone suited to monitor my pregnancy). Oh wow, I didn't know you were a doctor. Did these people not realize that the comments that they were dishing out actually made me feel like an incompetent mother already? Being pregnant for the first time was scary enough! I was always thinking about what kind of mother I'd be and I had set the bar pretty high too because I had already encountered so many parents that I did not want to be like as well as children that I did not want my child to turn out like. Just thinking about it made me anxious. I was also scared of the unknown. I could now come and go as I pleased without having to find a babysitter. I could take a nap when I wanted. My house was always neat. What will my life become? People's negative and positive advice and first hand accounts swirled around in my mind like a tornado. I made a promise to myself to never make someone feel negative about their decisions while they were pregnant (unless they were going to tell me that they were getting trashed or doing drugs. Then, I'd have to speak up). Being pregnant is a lot like being a new mother. You're doing what works for you and what is good for you and your baby. That motherly instinct kicks in when you're pregnant. I believe that that is the time when your mothering skills actually begin to unfold. Would you appreciate it if somebody was telling you that they don't like the way you change your baby's diaper or brush his/her hair? No! You definitely wouldn't! So why would you appreciate someone attacking or challenging the advice and care of your doctor or telling you that you're not doing a good enough job of caring for yourself or that you're horrible if you hate being pregnant? Here's what I've learned. Think about the advice you're giving. Do you absolutely, positively know that your view is the right one? If not, just don't say anything because what worked for you or what was right for you may not actually be good advice for someone else. Think about how vulnerable you felt when and if you were ever pregnant at all. If you offer advice make sure it's positive and happy unbiased advice or a first hand experience with how you dealt with things, not a sniper sneak attack on a future new mom that is about to enter a new and unknown chapter of her life. Give advice on what worked for you but don't knock what someones doctor has said unless you're a health care professional yourself and you have the credentials to challenge his/her advice!

Luck

I'm sure everyone has known that person who just always seems to come out of situations on top.....no matter how bad the situation might have been. .....The person who didn't study for the test but some how managed to get a great score or the person who talks about everyone behind their backs that everyone else just seems to love or the person that loses their job only to have a new offer the next day. I've always been intrigued by how some people actually have it like that. Is it because they are just positive thinkers? Is it some kind of gift? Or does the rest of the world have a cloud hanging over their heads that is just destined to follow them for the rest of their lives? Hmmmm.....I wonder. Well whatever it is that they, the lucky ones have.......well I don't have it. Here is a snapshot of my luck. 5th grade-The sole of my Keds sneaker decides to fall off at school. I try to fix the situation without anybody knowing by gluing the sole of my shoe onto my sock. Yup...maybe that will fix this situation. It didn't. It ended up being glued to the staircase at school. Back then, people with good luck probably had fairy godmothers that swooped in and waved their magic wands to save the day. Well where was mine? Fast forward Junior year. 9A.M. Black cat crosses my path, a driver of six months. I pay no mind. Hours later, my SUV runs out of gas on the road (You mean cars don't run on magic?) and I am in the biggest trouble of my life because I have returned from Manhattan with a new ornament on my body.......a bellybutton ring. Damn black cat! Senior year. My name is announced over the loudspeaker. I have detention and dusting library books is in my future. I have no idea what I've done. Maybe that's because I actually didn't do anything. A teacher decided to take a note that i ripped into a million pieces out of the garbage and tape it together and give me detention for the "foul language" that it contained. I can't believe it! What are the odds? At this point, I'm thinking..... for me, apparently anything is possible! November 10th 2010. I told everyone that my worst nightmare would be to have a c section. Petossin coursing through my body with almost no pain (and no baby either). 23 hours goes by. "We're going to have to give you a c section." Me : "What?! Nooooo you're not!" Doctor: "We have to you've been in labor for 23 hours." Me: "Has anyone ever stayed in labor longer than that? ". Doctor: "Yes??? But why would you want to?". Me: "Well I'm not going to sign those papers! Can't I just have more petossin?". Doctor: " Sorry. You've been on the highest dose for the last few hours.". How ironic that this was my worst case scenario and here I was and it was actually playing out! Fast forward two weeks ago. I have the worst stomach virus of the century. I am throwing myself on the floor in complete agony wondering why and how I actually caught the virus that everyone has been talking about even though I christened everything in my house with Lysol after my son came down with the nasty bug.  That brings me to Sunday night. Standing in the kitchen talking about how much I hate stomach viruses only to find myself in the same exact situation as I was in two weeks ago only 15 minutes later! How's that for coincidental bad luck? Repeat virus? Food poisoning? Whatever it was, I was definitely violently ill! To top it off though, hours spent praying to Saint Anthony and searching my house while I am completely and utterly sick have only been in vain as I open up the washer to switch my laundry and there lies my I touch, (Rest in Peace I touch), sitting on top of all of the laundry. My I touch has gotten a dramatic new makeover with it's cracked face and tiny particles of glass adorning the clothing inside the machine that is now the prime suspect in the demise of the gadget that I use for everything! Only hours before, I had flung everything off my bed in nauseating agony, pair of jeans after pair of jeans, shirt after shirt, boot, glove, sock, brush, (I touch hidden in one of the many articles that I threw!) without taking notice to what was on top in a desperate effort to actually lay on it! Who knew that hours later a tool that holds everything from passwords to my client's workouts would be on spin cycle. Now if I were one of those lucky people.....my I touch would come back to life right now. But sadly, I don't think it's going to happen.

Jeepers Creepers

With each waking morning comes a brand new day. There are some things you can be sure of. You can be sure that you're going to repeat the daily grind of which you are accustomed to. For some it's getting dressed and catching a bus or train, for others it's getting in a car and driving to work and for others it begins with getting kids ready for their (or your day) and out the door. Though you can depend on the fact that your routine will repeat, you never know just how it will play out, who you'll meet or what you'll see or think along the way. The day starts out as usual, breakfast with a chance of banana throwing. After the usual mess was cleaned, I suited the baby up in his coat while I scrambled to gather everything I needed  as quickly as possible. Ipod, CHECK. Hat, CHECK. Pocketbook, CHECK. Baby? "Nick?.....Nick?.....Nicholas.....I hear you! What is that banging?!". Great. He figured out how to open the oven. They're always 50 steps ahead of you no matter how on top of the situation you are! "C'mon Nick, we have to go.". I sweep the baby into my arms, throw my pocket book around my shoulder, while the hand that's holding the baby is holding my hat, that's holding his bottle, my water bottle, towel and keys. Most times while leaving my house, I feel like a walking circus act. I feel like when I open my front door I should be jumping through a ring of fire as a ringmaster announces my exit. "And now everybody! Brace yourselves for our new act! Watch as Mommy makes her way down the front steps with absolutely no free hands and still manages to get the car door open!". We're on our way to what is supposed the be the first of many stops. Great! No spots. The gym parking lot is packed. I drive around in endless circles telling myself that this will be the last time that I drive around the lot. I carefully maneuver my way around to exit the lot where I find myself in the Indie 500. Cars are flying. Here's my chance to go.......wait....no.....the guy who was miles away just a second ago can't bear to let me get out of this lot......that would mean that someone would be driving in front of him and then maybe he couldn't drive as fast as he's driving to get wherever he it is that he is going. You know what, even if I was speeding, I'd still be driving too slow for him and he'd find a way to cut me off. Car after car speeds by. At this point I feel like the Con Edison workers might as well use their orange construction flags and  officially turn this avenue into a drag race. I eventually am able to escape the lot and am off to my next stop at the pharmacy.  Jibber jabbering baby in hand, after looking both ways and determining that the coast is clear, I walk towards the store. "Meeeeep,,mmmmmMeeeeeeeeep.". I don't even look because I just  looked both ways before I crossed and I know there were definitely no cars coming. "MEEP. MEEP". My son jumps as if taken by surprise. I look to my right.....and there he is......now he throws in a whistle. Do I know you?. Nope. You're just a Creeper. Creeper-(noun) Definition: One who creeps another out by acting in an inappropriate manner. As I turn and look, he points to me and winks. Alright.......first of all, I'm walking into the store with my baby, I'm wearing my wedding band, and you're as old as my dad or older. I continue into the store like nothing ever happened because it's kind of like it never did. This is not a new phenomenon. I'm sure everyone reading this has come in contact with a Creeper. I think it's safe to say that Creeper's probably begin emerging when girls are in late Junior High-early High School. They make themselves known by whistling, honking, shouting at you (sometimes some pretty nasty nonsense). What I wonder though is, what makes a Creeper decide to join the ranks of the others in that category. I mean, did he wake up one day and say "I think I'm going to beep and scream at women!". I've never met a girl or have been that girl who's reacted to creeping in a positive way or at all.  Didn't he know that this would really get him no where? Or maybe it's just a cry for attention? Whatever it is, I just don't understand it. I know all the creeper comments like the back of my hand. They include but are not limited to...."Oooh God bless you".....or....."You must be tired because you've been running through my mind all day"......or......"I can tell you've been working out".......or........."whistle, whistle, beep beeeeeep, points finger at you, winks, hey baby.". What goes through their minds and what do they expect will happen next? Did the Creeper think that I was going to run up to his car like a giddy schoolgirl  with my baby and say "Hey....I heard you beeping at me and whistling! This is my baby...why don't you take us for a ride in your beat up 1980 Dodge that's polluting the air and stinking up this whole parking lot! (wink wink)." or maybe "Oh hey! You sure made my day by screaming and whistling at me and scaring my kid!". I wonder if anyone has ever responded to a Creeper or if their approach actually works on anyone? It can't possibly work. I haven't met anyone yet who has gushed about a random creepy man beeping at them......."Oh my god, I had the best day! This old guy winked, pointed, and beeped like a  crazy lunatic until he got my attention!"........Pretty unrealistic scenario. Sorry Creepers.  You would think that  people who have the guts to do this would at least be able to back their actions up with insanely good looks. The confidence is just mind boggling because I've found that most Creepers just look completely creepy. I wonder if there's a Creeper's Anonymous? There really should be. Alcoholism for an alcoholic is like creeping to a Creeper. I wonder how a man would feel if he was just going about his day and the roles were reversed. Yup.....a woman creeper. Don't know if they exist. I wonder what would happen if a disheveled, unkempt older woman were to start beeping and screaming and winking at a much younger man (maybe with a baby). He would probably look at her much the same way as women look at Creepers......not at all. Or if he did, maybe he'd just look away quick and wonder the same thing that I wonder to myself when I am faced with a person of this nature. That simple one worded question that parted from my lips....Really? 

A Dream Is a wish Your Heart Makes?

For as long as I can remember, I have always been able to recall my dreams. While night time slumber may bring hours of uninterrupted nothingness for some people (though for your information, everyone dreams, but not everyone remembers them), my experience is quite the contrary. I used to work in a dentist's office in high school. I remember one night having a dream that it was raining dental tools from the sky, and I can't forget about the one where a dog stopped to give me driving directions in my dream. I understand the dental tools dream......OK...... so, I work as a dental assistant 4 days a week and spend my days handing tools to a dentist and then cleaning them in an autoclave. It makes sense that if  I'm doing something everyday, I'd eventually have a dream about it. The dog dream believe it or not makes sense too. The dog was giving me directions on how to get away as far and as fast as possible from him. I'm insanely allergic to dogs, so on a dream state level, I am thankful to that dog, because the last thing I want to happen to me is to wake up with red itchy eyes and  a rash all over my body. Last nights dream though....I just can't wrap my head around it. Or maybe I can. A friend of mine that doesn't even exist in real life was getting divorced from Harry Potter! The reason was because her evil step mother didn't approve of him. Awwwww poor Harry! I guess the evil step mother wasn't up for a game of  Quiddich! "What is wrong with me?", I think as I wake up and slide out of bed.Soon I hear a repeating sound over and over again. It's talking but not finishing the word that's being said. "Do you? Do you? Do you? Do you?".......it's ALL I hear. There in the corner is my son's talking bear....malfunctioning. "Spooky", I think to myself. Thank god it didn't happen in the middle of the night when I have my nightly bathroom run because I would have been completely freaked out! I throw my clothes on and proceed to exit my bedroom and trip on the toy. The protest is happening again. This time it's Bear, dog (what a coincidence) and a stuffed football in the morning picket. I walk over to the baby's crib and on my way am scared half to death by yet another one of his toys " DO YOU WANT TO PLAY A GAME OR SING A SONG?!!!". My son smiles at me and turns to talk to his toys. Maybe he's telling them that the morning protest is over and that they can get back to being just stuffed animals instead of crib picketers??? Who knows. I get him dressed and ready all while singing along to his Disney baby music. As I prepare his breakfast I'm singing Winnie the Pooh. An hour later while driving in the car I find myself singing a song that one of his toys sings. "What is happening to me?". I might as well update my gym ipod with all of the baby's music because in my mind right now, the Winnie the Pooh theme song is a chart topper! What would really top off this day at this point is the whole cast of sesame street working the registers at the supermarket. My brain is now wrapping itself around this ridiculous dream. It's not  like Harry Potter delivers my paper on a magic broomstick everyday and I don't have a wicked step mother. I do believe though that our mind has a strange way of working during the body's restful state. In my restful state last night, I was watching a modern day fairy tale. Of course the divorce is not a fairy tale. But the whole step mother thing and Harry and the imaginary friend feeling heartbroken about her stepmother's overbearing ways fit the genre. My point is that your children have a way of bringing you back to the innocence of your childhood both in the waking world and in the unconscious mind. If you see enough fantasy everyday, pretty soon it will seep its way into your dreams. As I discover this realization, I watch my little guy play and smile at me as to say "I love you mommy!" and my heart melts and I am jilted into a vast blue sea of memories. I think of the dreams that I so often have that present themselves in color. The sky, the sun, the people, they seem so real and in my mind I am there. The dream.....the memory........ that makes me want to reach out and take my childhood back if I could, is the smile on my face and the feeling of complete bliss and balance and the thought that all is good in this world, like a fairy tale, as I run towards my mother with open arms and squeeze her leg as tight as I can.

Gonna Make You Sweat

Since having my son and even before, staying in shape has been pretty important to me. I have to say that after a baby, the weight comes off, but it definitely takes A LOT of time and effort. I didn't put too much on during my pregnancy. I gained 30 lbs respectively. Much of that comes off after you actually give birth and then you're left with the most stubborn 10-15 lbs that you've ever encountered. It's more about the inches than the pounds though, in case you're one of those people who is scale obsessed. The scale always takes time to catch up with the work that you're body is doing. The gym has not only served as a place to get and stay in shape but it is also a place for me to actually be "Me" for an hour without having to worry about my son tugging at my pants to be picked up or having a separation anxiety attack based on the fact that I have to use the bathroom and I dared to walk away to use it. As I ran downstairs today, my husband stood holding the baby. I knew that it was going to be a mission to make my way out of the house without my son having one of his separation anxiety attacks. I needed to make a swift and clean break. I grabbed my headphones, cell phone, I touch and keys and ran out the door. I didn't escape without hearing the cries of my baby, which always makes me feel guilty for leaving. "You need to get out....... you need the release......you need to fill your body with those endorphins!". Positive self talk. I do it all the time. It helps me make sure I remember who I am. Oh lord, soon I'll have to put sticky notes all over myself like in the movie Memento to remind myself to eat and sleep too. I make my way past the noise of treadmills, steppers, grunting and some flying sweat and find myself at the last treadmill with the sun beating through the window. "Should have worn my bathing suit, could have gotten a nice tan.". I'm thinking of the part in Wayne's world when they're walking through the desert dying of heat and dehydration. I like my gym. It always smells as if it has been completely sanitized. This isn't the case today though. On the right of me is a man that is dressed in a hooded sweatshirt, sweatpants and a sweatband across his head. We are having a very mild winter might I add. This guy looks like he is dressed for the storm of the century here. Did I mention the heat of the sun beating through the window. I step on the treadmill and I want to throw up. Holy B.O. ! The smell of this guy's sweat is ridiculous. I mean seriously, I saw a special on people like him who wear hot and heavy clothing to try to burn extra pounds at the gym. He was definitely burning pounds and I was suffering the consequences. The worst part is that his sweat is flying everywhere. It is attacking me from every angle like an out of control sprinkler. How is no one looking as disgusted as I am right now, how is......oh shoot he's looking at the look on my face, I flash a smile that says " Hi, do you understand how your stench is killing me right now and that I am completely grossed out by your sweat sprinkler? No you probably don't. Have an awesome workout!". Sometime during my run, somewhere in between me rewording songs on my i touch to try to make light of this situation...... " You're sweating and I know it, yeah look at that sweat fly....yeah look at that sweat fly...you work out !.....a woman begins talking to my sweat soaked neighbor. Apparently he went to high school with her daughter. From listening to him talk, he sounded like one of those "know it all" types of people. The question is though.....does he know about his sweat and how it is affecting me right now? Is it affecting this woman that is talking to him right now? She seems like she knows him well, I'm waiting for her to pass out mid sentence, I can kind of see her face crunching up during the conversation as well. People clear out that section of the gym pretty quickly. Remember, mine was the only treadmill available. I guess  I can safely say I know why now. I continue my run, interval by interval, faster and slower, uphill, downhill. My imagination is going as it so often does. Chariots of fire playing as I run around a track as fast as I can, only when I get to the next runner in the relay receiving the baton, it is Mr. Sweaty sweatshirt man and I pass him a bar of deodorant. He smiles and says "thanks, I'm sweating bullets" and I smile and say, "I know, I can smell it!".

Strength In Numbers

Why is it so hard for me to muster up the strength to go out on the weekends. It couldn't be because I spend my days playing, laughing and rolling around with my one year old right? That could be a big part of it. It could also be because my son is going through the separation anxiety phase in a "hardcore" kind of way. We can't even be separated if I have to go to the bathroom. We have to be in the same room at all times. If we are not, it is not long before I hear the pitter patter of little footsteps followed by a barely detectable to suddenly penetrating cry that seems to say " Where do you think you're going mom? Get back here now! I need you to hold me! ". I take a deep breath, run my fingers through my now knotty hair which I did actually brush and put back into a neat ponytail this morning (though it never seems to stay that way), open my arms and swiftly scoop up my little guy. Lately he reminds me of the captain of a ship. Every time I pick him up, he uses his pointer finger to just point to things. He points to anything. He's like a little compass. There are definitely some things that he points to because he wants them, like a banana per say. Most of the time though, he'll just  point in different directions as you walk him into a different room. It's like he's discovered his pointer finger and he wants everyone to know. It is very cute but it becomes tiring when he just begged me to pick him up and now he wants to get down, but wait......no.....no......he wants to be picked up again......annnnnnnnnd........now he wants to go down. I guess it's true, what goes up must come down, must go up must come down and "ooooooouch! My arms are killing me!". I should have the most toned arms out there right now with all of this up, down business. This leads me to the real story. I think that when you're married, especially after having a baby, it is so easy to fall into that rut of "oh, we're too tired to go out or we're too tired to do anything.". This can be dooming to the best of relationships. It's very easy to lose that affection and when I say affection I mean the most simplest forms, like holding hands or cuddling. In order to keep that flame burning, you need to get out there and be together, cultivate your relationship, without the baby! I know it's hard. I hate leaving him in the daycare at the gym sometimes even though I'm right upstairs working out. The truth is though, what good are the two of you to him if you're not really good with each other.When you spend time together, you reignite who you were before the baby. It's really easy to forget that sometimes. I feel like a lot of people give up on their marriages because they don't understand that it is hard, it isn't always a walk in the park. It's something that has to be worked on and I believe you become even stronger when you hit those rock bottom points and rise above. Enough of my philosophy though. Hubby and I decided that we need to get out more often and spend more time together so we got on the phone and began asking other couples if they wanted to join in. So often, we back out on our plans because it's just the two of us and like I said before, we are tired, so I feel like getting a few other couples to come out with you provides a little motivation to wake up, get dressed, get out and have a good time! We ended up going out with my husband's friend and his wife to a great byob that we love where we had reservations might I add. But for some reason because we showed up with 4 instead of six our reservation became null and void and there we were waiting. Watching people that had arrived 15 minutes after us get seated. This, I definitely did not understand. That makes no sense to me. Ok so you set the table up for 6 and 4 show up. Wouldn't it make more sense to remove two plates instead of seating a whole bunch of other people before the customer with the reservation? It makes sense to me! We were seated about a half hour later  at the hottest table in the house and when I say hot I don't mean the most fantastic table. I was literally sweating. It was official....I was being cooked. Now my eyes are closing. "STOP! it's your big night out!", I'm thinking to myself. "I'm supposed to be partying right now!". The aging body is a mind boggling thing. I'm not old but I just can't believe the difference in my motivation to go out from my 20's to my 30's. It's almost pathetic! It's not just me either. My husband's friend was telling tales of going to bed at 9:00 at night he's so tired. "uh huh, I feel that.", I think to myself. Why does going out have to be like climbing a mountain in you 30's? Sure it's exhilarating to know you're climbing, (parallel that to getting ready for your big night out.) . Then you get to the top, what a rush, (parallel that to getting to the restaurant and cracking open the bottle of wine). Then the final stage, pure exhaustion (parallel that to MANY glasses of wine, an extremely hot room, think hot yoga, and my eyes struggling to remain open). I can't understand it. Only two years earlier, I had the strength to go to a bar afterwards or maybe have some people over for a nightcap. All I can think about though is going to sleep! Then the ipod goes on in the car. I suddenly wake up and now... to everyone's surprise (maybe even dismay),I have become a professional singer. Belting out tunes like  people have paid to come and see me. I think at this point my husband knows that I am in my happy place. Songs from my high school days fill the car and I sing along and reminisce. It's been a good night. As I continue to belt out these songs I'm doing the math in my head. "OMG! How is it that I've been out of high school this long.". Ugggh, time flies way too quickly and these songs remind me of a time when I had so much energy I had to tell myself in my head to calm it down a notch. Everyone is feeling pretty tired at this point. I can't help but hope that this is a minor glitch in my life where energy is so low because my parents and their friends party until the cows com home when they're together. There has to be hope right? I always have high hopes that my nights will turn out as wild and fun as they used to be. I'm always hoping that other people will help provide that extra strength to stay out because there's strength in numbers right?

Daily Dose of Irritation

Does anybody else find hovering shoppers irritating? Or is it just me? I rarely shop and when I do, I'm usually shopping with a mission. I like to find what I'm looking for and hightail it out of there because I just have too many things to do in one day anyway. I've never been a Marshall's type of gal. I HATE rack shopping. The Marshall's in my area has recently done a miraculous turn around in the organizational department as per my visit for exercise equipment the other day, so I decided to give it another go (especially since the weighted pair of punching gloves I purchased wasn't actually a pair. To top off this shopping adventure, my son Nicholas fell asleep in the car on the way there and did not choose to continue in his restful state when I put him in his stroller. Instead I was shopping with baby plastic man. My child was contorting himself into some pretty interesting positions to signal his growing irritation from being cooped up in his jogger. At first I leaped in front of him and began a quick game of peek-a boo to try to ease his dissatisfaction. Now I'm talking in baby jibber jabber to try to make him laugh, "wassa wuzza wooloo,,,, zizzer zaz!". "weahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!". Oh no, he wasn't having it. So I end up taking him out of the stroller and holding his hand as I maneuvered through the store, pushing an empty stroller as well. Things worked out pretty well for a while. I'm fingering through the rack of jeans trying to find my size, when out of no where, I can see a girl becoming increasingly annoyed that I'm there. I feel like saying "What? You have a problem? I'm here first ! Wait your turn!". Or maybe I should say..."yessss? Is there something I can help you with? Would you like a ride in my son's stroller or something? Why the hell are you on top of me, I'm already having a stressful day!". Well, you know I'm not going to say anything but I'm agitated right now and obviously so is she. The only thing is she really should wait her turn. I'm here first! She continues to hover and then I finally move out of her way, to which she offers a "sorry." Completely nasty and unheartfelt might I add. And there she is! She has taken my spot and is doing exactly what I was doing! Is there a reason why she had more of a right to be there fingering through the jeans that I did? Is she the  queen of Marshall's and I just don't know it? Should I have thrown hangers and price tags at her to welcome her into her obvious kingdom in the jeans section of Marshall's? A girl like this is exactly what makes me want to get out of Staten Island!  I'm beginning to think that every one's notion in the media of what it is like to live here and what the people are like....could be dead on! I just don't get how a place can breed so many people who think they are better and don't have a problem being nasty on a daily basis!Look, I can't speak for everybody, there are tons of nice people here but there are  also a lot of people who are just miserable. It's like people look at you crazy if you smile. I did an experiment while jogging in the park for a while. I began just smiling and saying good morning to the people that I passed on a daily basis. Maybe two people smiled back and would respond daily. You see they have something called social skills that I'm noticing so many people don't have. Maybe they're insecure, who knows. You wouldn't believe some of the glances people exchanged with me by my saying good morning. You would have thought that I was jogging through the park dressed as a monkey with lipstick throwing bananas at people singing LMFAO's I'm Sexy and I know it. O-O-O-e-e-e---AHHHHH! Ridiculous (both my example and their behavior). Don't people know the phrase "you catch more bees with honey than vinegar"? Apparently not I guess. I'm telling you, if you go anywhere else, it's just customary for people to just look at you and smile. We're people for god sake. I mean look, not everyone is cut from the same cloth. You can easily tell many times what "stranger" not to talk to but it wasn't like I was wandering the park in a nightgown like a crazy person. I was a clean, attractive, happy jogger. Oh well. My bad. Well back to the Marshall's story. That trip ended with my son wheeling the stroller filled with my finds (including jeans......Thank you your majesty for at least letting me find a pair) while I held him in super baby position ( because that's the only way he would not flip out) while people looked at me like a bad mom for shopping in this fashion. Carpe Diem! Yes I did indeed seize the day at Marshall's today! A full stressful half hour out with my little man. Oh and don't forget about Queen Marshall's. She seized the day as well..... by stealing my spot at the jeans rack because she's somehow more important than the other shoppers at the store (grrrrrr) and by taking time to get on my nerves today!!! Doesn't it take the same amount of energy for people to be kind than it does to be rude and miserable???

A New Kind of Alarm Clock

When I talk to most young mothers, one of the conversations that will never be put to sleep is on the very topic itself......that's right....sleep....or lack there of it. I've been one of the lucky ones to have given birth to a child that sleeps through the night. I remember when I was a child waking up when I was sick and my mother gently rocking me back to sleep. I remember the comfort of her arms. My son doesn't even wake up when he's sick. He just sleeps it off. So yes, I really have been lucky. While my girlfriends spun tales of their little ones' late night tantrums and refusal to return to sleep or even go to sleep, or 5 AM wake ups, while my little angel was sleeping until 8:45 sometimes, me and my husband snored away. My pediatrician even commented on my apparent lack of dark circles and puffy eye syndrome by coyly stating "You don't look that tired to be a new mom.". "Why thank you! I'm not tired doc. Me and my husband get LOTS of sleep!". What you don't realize though is that eventually you do become tired. Your sweet darling grows and his or her little personality develops and that my friends could very well be when the tiredness sets in. For example, for the past few days my son has been waking up at 6:30 AM. This is a big change from his typical 8AM or 8:45 AM wake up. I find myself bewildered when I hear his cry or newly developed fake, tearless tantrum call. I'm exhausted. Limp. Lifeless. I lay there thinking "Is this real, maybe if I lay down for a little while longer he'll fall asleep again like he used to......ooooooh why did I stay up until 1 AM folding laundry and cleaning. Trying so hard to get ahead of myself only to be destined to be behind now that he woke up before me!". The tearless tantrum turns into one of his new all out protests (my son and his precious Bear being the sole protesters, picketing around his crib to be fetched). I drag myself out of bed and flip on my electric toothbrush and open his door, flip the light switch and reassure him that I'll be there in a jiff. He doesn't like this. The dissatisfaction becomes increasingly clear and I begin stressing. I'm really trying to hold it together here. "OK Reese, he's just a baby, you're a good mom......you have the right to brush your teeth and wash your face before you pick him up.". Let's face it, if I don't do it now, I'll be destined to roam the house in my pajamas all day or feel bad for sneaking away and throwing my gym clothes on because he might cry and my heart shatters to pieces when this happens. I resolve to take a deep breath and try my best to let the stress go. The morning continues in a rocky type fashion ..."And on this side of the ring is Nicholas weighing in at 23 lbs battling his opponent Mommy, weighing in a 114lbs because she doesn't have time to eat and is so busy cleaning up EVERYTHING! Let the battle begin!". Let's see, so far we've had a fight to get out of the crib (But I thought he wanted to get up?) A fight to change his diaper (But you're dirty! Aren't you uncomfortable peanut?) A fight during breakfast because the food's not coming fast enough and god forbid I'm not standing in front of him at all times, Company in the bathroom (I haven't used the bathroom alone in I don't know how long). Let's not forget laundry throwing (newly folded laundry) and business card throwing as well. Yes, my personal business cards looked more like a ticker tape parade celebration for the baby that conquered his mother in every way today. I finally got out of the house though. The outside world can be exhilarating when you've been cooped up being sick yourself with a sick baby in the house. It can be like living in a log cabin in the woods, not knowing what is going on in the outside world. As I drove down the street today I thought to myself " wow, when is the last time you actually drove down this boulevard? Could it have been Christmas time?". I hit the jackpot with an exercise equipment sale that I greatly appreciated because i need to create variety for my clients. I however, did not hit the jackpot with escaping the store as the mom with the baby flipping out. Oh well, you win some you lose some and today I think I'm losing the battle with my sweet boy but hey, tomorrow is another day to turn it all around as I walk past a mirror in the store and observe the fact that I should have remembered to look in the mirror before I left, hence my hair wouldn't have been in the messiest ponytail in the world! I think to myself, "Take a deep breath Reese, RELAX, he's only a baby once, you're only young once, treasure these moments even the hard ones, these times are precious, he'll be better off in the end. I know my sweet baby will be. So I carry my baby into the house and set his angelic little face and sleepy body into the crib and ponder new career ideas once again. Ones that allow the flexibility for me to continue this tough and rewarding job of being a mommy but also one where I can restore a sense of myself without feeling guilty. I'll be working on that ; ) . After all, it's never too late to become what you might have been~ Right?