Things I Love Today

I love this Cat right here.  He cracks me the hell up every day.  Every. Single. Day.  It never fails.  He makes me laugh.  He takes off running through our house with a plate of freshly baked cookies to get the boys chasing after him, yelling at the top of their lungs, “DADDY SAYS HE’S GOING TO EAT ALL THE COOKIES!”  Even though I roll my eyes and the commotion gives me a headache, it never gets old. 
When Chubba was 3 years old, Tim told him that rollie pollies bite.  You have never seen a kid drop ten rollie pollies in the middle of a driveway so fast.  Tim tells me crazy stories, without cracking a smile, to get me in an absolute uproar- only to find out he was just yanking my chain.  When crazy shit actually happens, he has a hard time convincing me.






I love my new NAKED by Urban Decay pallet. I love each shade more than sunshine, but the shimmer ones should be approached with caution. Last Tuesday, I looked as though I’d made out with a fairy. With tongue. Side note, if you take a dry cloth to wipe off shimmer, it goes all over your face like you rolled your face back and forth in a Kindergarten art project. I still love this eye makeup though. From it’s velvety case, to it’s fancy brush, to the fact it says NAKED in all capital letter when I open it. I love it. NAKED!






I love my new nightly skincare regimen.  So much, in fact, I may marry it.  In the past, I had read about the Oil Cleanse Method, and never really took it seriously.  I thought it was just for you People of the Dry Skin Variety with zero skin issues--- definitely not me.  Then my friend JenP started talking about it one night.  She took it even further the next day by sharing this post The Oil-Cleansing Method.  I researched it a little bit more.  I mean, it’s your face—these things need to be mulled over a bit.  So that night she began her oil cleanse journey, and I began mine.  I still haven’t the foggiest why we had Castor oil in our medicine cabinet. Weird. Anypoop, I loved it from the word go.  My skin felt fantastic and looked really healthy THAT NIGHT.   It felt like a facial.  The next morning, I noticed a great improvement in the texture of my skin.  It just felt better and brighter. 

Being the bully I am, I even forced it upon my husband and oldest son.  They looked worried when I put the washcloths over their faces.  Do I look like the kind of woman to smother someone?  Don’t answer that.  They only let me try it once (the washcloth thing), but they both said that it did, in fact, make their faces feel nice.  I tried to take a break last week--- just to see if I was maybe making a bigger deal out of this new-to-me cleansing method.   BUT.  I could only forgo the Oil Cleanse one day, because my skin felt horrible the next day.  Dull, oilier, and weird. 

If you are interested in trying The Oil-Cleanse Method just follow the above link’s instructions.  In addition, I found a few other sites that encouraged an occasional real steam, either with an actual facial steam machine or a pan of hot water, in lieu of the washcloth over the face.  About once a week, I have been using the pan of hot water with a few herbs.  I boil some water then add about one or two herb selections to that hot water.  [Herbs such as sage, thyme, rosemary, mint, chamomile]  After a five minute with my face over the pan and towel over my head to keep in the steam, I just wipe the oil off with a warm washcloth.  AND DONE.  It really does feel fantastic! 

My Taliban Circa 2009

I love being the mother of all boys. Would not have it any other way! Not only would I emotionally traumatize a girl, but having all boys has honed my reflexes (think a ball’s whizzing at your head, duck anyway) and diving skills (saved many a boy that thought his swimming abilities were beyond what they were in reality). As a mother of all boys, I can ignore and listen at the same time. I can ignore the paper airplanes buzzing around my head, but still hear the silent dismount from the top bunk to the ceiling fan upstairs.

You cannot be uptight for it is not uncommon for a penis to be whipped out and grass made a bathroom right before your eyes… in a Florida condominium parking lot. If you freak out, you’ll end up with pee on your toes.

You cannot be easily offended. As in, “I love to lay my head on your fat tummy, Mommy.” Or “Your butt is very, very, very, very, very, very, very big, Mommy. Do you like your butt when it’s very, very, very, very, very, very big?” Or “Your hair looks like snakes. I like it. I like snakes.”

You have to be able to focus in many directions all at once. Boys’ games require a lot of scattering and running. At. All. Times.

I can always spot mothers of all girls, as their eyes grow wide in horror when they see a little boy reach into his pocket for a smashed worm, as if it were a prize to behold. A mother of all boys will stick her hand out, as if to say GIVE IT, while never even breaking her conversation with her friends. Walking to the trash can, “And so then I said to my boss… blah, blah, blah. Girl, you know that’s right.” Walk to the sink to wash hands. “OMG. I haven’t seen her in forever. How is she?” Then usher the boys back outside. “Stop smashing worms, Please.”

But put me in a room of all girls, and I nearly have an anxiety attack from their squeals and hurt feelings. True. Story.  Now don't think that I don't love little girls.  I do.  They are adorable.  I just don't know what to do with them.  I think we gear ourselves for what we know.  I will say that girls seem to be more helpful and task oriented than boys.  I repeat myself no less than 5,000 times a day.