CalibamaMOM of the Year!!!

So…today I am being featured over on Mom of the Year!!!

The Mom of the Year

Oh, I know you must be thinking…“WTF? Why on earth would sweet Meredith allow that?”

Could be that I bullied her into it…or she finds my blog strangely appealing…OR perhaps she has a soft spot in her heart for moms who accidentally lock their toddlers in the car and have to call AAA. At this point…it’s a TOTAL MYSTERY.

Only ONE way to find out, huh?

It’s okay….go there

NOW!

(and then come right back, k?)

xo,
Nancy

Top 10 Phrases The Beans Say Contributing to My Insanity

I.Dare.You.

Everybody has pet peeves. You know, the stuff other people do that drives them batty. If by chance you are shaking your head ‘no’ and nothing bothers you, then I want both the name of the doctor you are seeing and the medication he has you on. What? You think I’m joking? Get me that info….STAT. 

Oh and unless you gave birth to rosy-cheeked, angelic and chubby, winged creatures, chances are your kids are the masters at pushing your peevy buttons. I know mine are. Experts at their craft, I tell you. Since boarding school is out of my price range  I love them more than life itself, I decided today was the day to bitch about it  by making a list of the almost daily, verbal annoyances they utter in their multi-layered plot to drive me over the edge. Here goes….

Top 10 Phrases The Beans Say (almost) Everyday,

Contributing to My Insanity

 

10. Did you wash my _________? 

This is generally in reference to P.E. clothes, and blurted out moments before we are heading to school on Monday morning. They had ALL WEEKEND to make sure this happened, and yet….they wait until the last possible second. Inevitably I end up frantically washing, drying and delivering them to the school in record time, totally screwing up my morning. I mean, God forbid she has to borrow some from the loaner bin for ONE freaking day! Oh, the horror!

9. Can I have _________? 

This could be a request for anything from a new toy or a new pet, to much larger things like….a trampoline. None of which are needed.

8. Mama, where’s my _______? 

Well, how am I supposed to know? It doesn’t belong to me. Did you look for it? NO. You asked me because I have a built-in GPS called a uterus. Oh, and this one doesn’t just come from The Beans. The Man joins the party on this one as well. Oh joy! 

7. But _______’s mom/dad let’s him/her do it. 

Well good for them! Too bad they aren’t your parents. Wanna see if they’ll adopt you? No. Okay…moving on then.

6. I can’t find a pencil. 

This might be the one that sends me to the asylum, since it comes out of Sweet Pea’s or Butter Bean’s mouth every day. No lie. And I have bought every kind of pencil there is…Ticonderogas, mechanical ones, sparkly ones….you name them, and we’ve owned them. I even sharpen them and put them in the designated spot. And yet….there is never one around come homework time. There has to be a pencil-eating monster living in my house, and I’ll bet he was invited by the little bastard troll who eats socks in the dryer. That’s the only explanation.

5. Will you bring me some ________? 

Last time I checked, every child I birthed has a working pair of legs. So wtf is this about? Always when I am busy doing something important only to me–blogging, Facebooking, Twittering, reading–or worse, after I have already settled into bed for the night. *Sigh*

4. Are we going somewhere fun today? 

This is mainly on the weekends, and stems from the fact that The Man and I have created tiny beings who constantly need to be entertained. Our attempts at being crowned “Mom & Dad of the Millenium” clearly biting me/us right square in the ass. Oh well, at least I can admit it, right? And that’s the first step towards recovery if I’m not mistaken. “Hello, my name is Nancy….”

3. Mama, _______ is _________!! 

Tattle-taling is the bane of my existence. Unless whatever is happening is a violent attempt to end your life, work it out. You are not snitches-in-training. Simply denying you a toy you had no interest in before she picked it up, does not constitute an emergency. When blood is drawn, someone is unconscious or the house is on fire…..tattle. Otherwise, build a bridge and get the eff over it!

2. I’m bored. 

Never fails. Everyday, this comes out of every small mouth in the house. Repeatedly. How on earth can this even be in their realm of thinking? They have every electronic gadget known to man, enough books to fill a library, art supplies out the wazoo, scooters, bikes, roller skates….even a dang POGO STICK!! And we live within walking distance of a park. How can they be bored??????

And the NUMBER ONE PHRASE THAT BUGS THE PISS OUT OF ME…

1. I’m hungry. 

All. the. time. I could have just returned from the mother of all grocery store shopping extravaganzas and inevitably, one of them will open the fridge and say “I’m hungry, and there’s nothing to eat.”  The Man also frequently dumps gasoline on this fire too.

WTF?? I quit. 

 

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Oh, lucky day!!

Just before I picked it :-)

Just before I picked it

Throughout the course of my life, I have had a unique gift for finding 4-leafed clovers. As far-fetched as it sounds—they seem to literally illuminate when I walk by them. Seriously. I don’t even really have to look for them, because they catch my eye, and at the ripe old age of 41, I  have 100’s of them. And those are just the ones that managed to survive childhood, my teenage years, college, a cross-country move and more than a few moves since living in Los Angeles. So I though I would begin this post by sharing a picture of one I found just a few months ago. Happy St. Patrick’s Day, and may the Luck O’ the Irish be with y’all!!!

But that’s NOT what this post is about…. at all.

This post is dedicated to my Butter Bean, who, weighing in at 7 pounds and 11 ounces, entered this world with a bang on the biggest drinking day of the year–after an induction AND 24 hours of labor!  Named after a saint, born at a ‘saintly’ hospital, in a city by the beach (also named after a saint) on Saint Patrick’s Day —she was bound to be an angel, right??? Nine years ago today, God saw fit to trust me with this force of nature and my life has just kept getting better and better because she’s in it.  Although she arrived into the world a few days early, and gave us a lil’ scare, she has made up for it ever since by growing into a dynamic, soulful little sprite!!! Everywhere she goes, she brightens up the space around her. She’s incredibly intelligent, and very observant, slipping into a room without making a sound, but leaving an imprint that simply cannot be forgotten. I am a better person because she is my daughter, and I thank God every day, for blessing me with her. My guess is that all those four leafed clovers I’ve found over the course of my 41 years paid off, because I feel VERY LUCKY to have her!

Here are just a few glimpses of her radiance over the years…

5 days old

5 days old

age 2.5

age 2.5

butterflybutterbean

a beautiful butterfly at 5

almost 4

almost 4

 

learning to fish at 7

 

 

 

 

 

 

becoming a model at 8.5

becoming a model at 8.5

 

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BUTTER BEAN!!!

Mommy loves you to the moon and back 🙂

 

 

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10 Things I Hate About 41

It’s no secret that I’m over 40. Although since I live in Los Angeles, and I’m married to The Man who’s married to The Industry, maybe I should have stopped aging at 30. Yeah, a nice even number. That’s a believable lie, right?  {crickets chirping} FINE. I can’t lie about it now. But I CAN tell you all the reasons why it sucks giant, hairy and sweaty donkey balls, now can’t I?!

The photo below shows me being a hot mess….literally. Holding a beer, my phone, and my wallet all in one hand, while using the other to shoo a bug out from under my niece’s wedding dress. Yes, that really happened. Anyway, this photo is relevant because it was during this particular plantation wedding weekend that I began to really start hating the downside of 40, and the approach of…FORTY-ONE. The look on my face says it all, doesn’t it?  Not sure if I laughed or cried next. Could have been either. Seriously.

She really had a bug under her dress!

She really had a bug under her dress!

Over the past 6 months, things have begun to CHAAAANGE. Normally  I’m delighted to welcome change with open arms. However, there are a few key players in my physiological make-up that were just fine the way they were….when I was 35, 30, 20 🙂 Which brings me to:  

10 Things I Hate About 41

 

1. I’m not 40 anymore.  Yes, I actually enjoyed being 40. Something about that milestone birthday is attractive. Just like turning 18, then 21, followed by 30, 35 and FORTY. It’s the last best milestone, I think. Now, I’m just 41.

2. Phantom aches & pains—in my back, in my hip, in my big toe or my eyeballs—I could go on forever. Hello? My bones are old. I know. I know. But I really do not enjoy being reminded.

3. My hair is falling out For God’s sake, my hair was my best asset FOR YEARS, and now it’s thinning. I actually broke down and bought some of that ‘AGE DEFY’ shampoo and conditioner that I never even knew existed, until now. wtf…WTF?? I’ve always had great hair, like the Pantene girls. Now I am fully expecting to wake up one morning, rise from my bed, only to discover that all my hair is still lying on the pillow. Or worse, have it slip through my hands and down the drain while I’m washing it. I’m having HORROR HAIR FLASHES to accompany the other flashes (See #4)

4. One minute I’m freezing, the next I am burning up– Hot flashes my ass. These are like nuclear meltdowns, causing a chain reaction of unpleasant shit. Then, in seconds, I’m so cold my teeth are chattering, and I’m walking around wearing my bathrobe on top of my clothes. Even Mother Nature can’t keep up with the internal seasons I’ve got going on. Of course it doesn’t help when The Man says “You’re going through The Change“. Thanks, asshat. I’ll show you change. 

5. I’m thirsty all the time— I’ve never been one to consume a lot of liquids. Not a conscious choice, I just don’t get thirsty. Well shit fire, I am now apparently making up for all the years I forgot to drink. Just great.

6. Incontinence– To be fair, I’ve always had a somewhat weak bladder. I used to pee when I laughed in high school. Of course, childbirth times 3 made it much worse, and now….well…because of #5 above, I HAVE TO PEE CONSTANTLY. Go figure. Perhaps I can be a spokesmodel for Depends, just like Lisa Rinna. Whaddaya think?

7. Young people refer to me as “Mrs” or “ma’am”– Being from the South, I appreciate the reverence. But at the same time, it makes me want to punch the teenaged cashier at Von’s right in the face when she says “Here you go ma’am” as she hands my ID back after she cards me. Brighten my day by asking for my ID, and then burst the balloon by calling me ‘ma’am’. FINE. Be that way. You’ll be old one day.

8. My eyesight is getting worse–as if THAT were possible, right? I mean, I already have something stupid called Adie’s pupil–my right one is permanently blown–so it makes me look like Marilyn Manson, in bright light. Right one blown, left one pinpoint. Most of the time, if people actually look into my eyes and notice, they want to know what kind of cool psychedelic drugs I’ve dropped. It’s very entertaining. That problem aside, I can’t see shit now.

9. What short-term memory?–Sometimes, I feel like Dorie in Finding Nemo. I’ll walk through my house from one room to another, on a mission, and by the time I get there, I stand in the middle of the room wondering what the hell I’m doing there. On occasion, I’ve retraced my steps in an effort to jog my memory. Almost never works. So I guess it’s really true….I gave a 1/4 of my brain cells to each of my children. Thank God we stopped at 3. Otherwise, I’d be a vegetable. Oh, joy!

10. Sahara– This is what I have nicknamed my nether region, because of the dryness. Seriously, I am expecting The Man to saddle up on a camel the next time he wants to take a ride. All the while, I’m thinking “Hey…Eve…I hope that fruit was damn tasty!”

I just have one last thing to say. When I finally kick it, please bury me upside down, so Aunt Flow and her groupies, Bald and Blind, can kiss my tired, old, forgetful ass, will ya?

 

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