The Coop

funky chickens

a bunch of funky chickens

Yes, I know they are roosters. But they are cool, and represent me and my flockies perfectly. So there.

Anyway, when I was asked to guest post** over on ‘It’s Fitting’, I stalked the blog a bit to see if I had something worthy to share. Ashley had me at CHICKENS. Why? Because I’m still very close with a couple of the girlfriends I’ve had since college. Whom I sort of  convinced to move out to Los Angeles a year after I made the trek. What can I say? I’m a charming and persuasive trendsetter…lol. Besides, it’s HOLLYWOOD, and both are performers, so it was the natural progression of things. Oh, and not only did I convince them to follow me to the West Coast, I set one of them up with my single FIL 10 years ago, and now she is my step-MIL. That’s another story entirely though 🙂

The thing is, We are Chickens. Always have been…always will be, and will no doubt be sharing a ‘retirement coop’ one of these days, having long out-lived our male-Rooster mates, and doing our best to live life to the fullest….together forever…covered up with grandbabies. To say that I remember how the chicken reference came about, would surely be a lie. I don’t. Probably out of a drunken night of playing Scrabble at 1321 N.Vista. Or maybe one day at FMP in West Hollywood. Or….hell, I don’t know. All I do know is it stuck, and that’s how we’ve referred to each other for almost two decades now.

Why am I choosing today to talk about this, you ask? Well, because it’s The Spring Chicken’s “big” birthday today. As in, the last of us is turning the big FOUR OH. We are, 42, 41 and now 40…respectively: Mama Hen, Middle Clucker, and Spring Chicken.

Since I technically met Mama Hen first, I’ll start by dishing about her. She happened to be in the Beginning Modern Dance class I was a TA for my junior year in college at Bama. It was a class based on the Graham Technique, and it was for neither beginners, nor pussies. Anybody that knows anything about modern dance, knows that Martha Graham–The Mother of Modern Dance–was rigid in her form. We had football players come through the class thinking it would be an easy ‘A’, only to drop it in the second week, because they just couldn’t cut it. Anyway, after the second class, Mama Hen strolled up to me and asked if I tutored students. She was desperate for a good grade, but wanted to earn it and offered to pay me (cha-ching!). The fact that she was genuinely interested in learning the proper technique cinched it, and I agreed…despite the fact I was taking a full course load of 18 hours, had numerous pieces to choreograph for various concerts, had been cast in others’ work which involved rehearsal, AND had 3 other jobs–bartender, Budweiser beer girl, and art class model. What was ONE more iron in the fire anyway? 

So it began.

Mama Hen and Spring Chicken knew each other from working together at a local restaurant…I think? Not certain. I knew of Spring Chicken because we were all part of the Theatre and Dance Department, although I’d not met her formally. That didn’t come until later. After she’d dated my ex-boyfriend briefly while “we were on a break”, and I ended up face to face with her AS MY TRAINER when I showed up for my first day on the job at the same restaurant where she and Mama Hen worked. I couldn’t figure out how to tie my tie, and she offered to help.Talk about an awkward moment! It was either let her do it, or quit on the spot. One beautifully tied red bowtie later….the tension had cleared and we’d become fast friends by the end of the day.

And for the last 18 years or so, you haven’t been able to pry us apart with a stick. Okay, well…that’s not entirely true. We’ve had some moments, the 3 of us. Good, bad, and smacked-every-branch-on-the-way-down-the-tree-UGLY. Fortunately now, they are all water droplets under a great big, gorgeous bridge with support beams rooted straight into the center of the Universe. True friendships like that are really hard to come by, so when you fall into one…don’t let it go. Seriously. And if you are lucky enough to have more than one, take the time to water them with love, kindness, loyalty and respect. Otherwise, just like plants that have been neglected for too long, they will die….

Which reminds me of something funny that happened just after Spring Chicken and I moved in together when she arrived in LA. We ventured out on a mission to Ikea to pick up a few things for the condo. Despite me telling her I had a BLACK THUMB, she decided to invest in a plant. No…a tree. In a pot. She thought I was bluffing. For awhile, it was fine. I stayed a good distance from the green, living thing with leaves and branches, and it remained alive. However, at some point, it perished. Spring Chicken noticed, and immediately asked what I did to it. So I had to tell her: I watered it. Yes, that really happened.

There are too many memories and shared jokes to specifically pinpoint, so I’ll just let them stay ‘on the inside’. What I will do though, is tell you ten great things about The Coop.

1. We are brutally honest. In other words, if we utter the words “Does this make me look fat?”….we must be prepared for the answer.

2. There isn’t very much (if anything) we don’t know about each other. In fact, I’d venture to guess that we know a tiny bit more about each other than any of our respective mates know about us.

3. Having a close girlfriend as your MIL really rocks (once you iron out the wrinkles of the situation).

4. We consider the 5 collective children between us ‘all our own’, even though only 2 of us birthed the lot of them. It’s nice to know, when The Beans misbehave at either household….they will be disciplined in the same manner I would do it myself. Maybe it’s a Southern thing?

5. We keep each other grounded. This alone is worth it’s weight in gold.

6. We harbor secrets, both big and small. Except between each other. Information is usually shared freely, even if at different times. There’s a lot of ‘oh, yeah…she told me that’, without any feelings of betrayal. Hard to swing those conference calls, ya know.

7. We are supportive of each other’s careers, goals, dreams, hopes, etc. Even if we don’t understand them completely.

8. I lent my underwear to one of them at a music video shoot one day, because she decided to ‘go commando’ that morning and ended up in wardrobe that was not conducive to that situation. I pulled off a surprise bday party for the other one year by calling and telling her I was in labor, so she would drop everything and show up at my house immediately. How many people can say that?

9. There are only a few people I would help bury a body. They are two of them.

10. We are doing what we said we would: growing old together.

Happy Birthday, Chicken! Let the celebrations begin 🙂

 

The Chickens, circa 2003...at a favorite spot of ours. Good times.....

The Chickens, circa 2003…at a favorite spot of ours. Good times…..

 

 

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**This post was originally published over at It’s Fitting. If you’ve never visited Ashley and her chickens, go there….now 🙂

It’s Friday…For Real: Episode 2

Hi y’all…Hope everyone had a fabulous Fourth of July! I know we did. Now, if you are anything like The Man, you probably had some mishaps with food. Specifically, wearing it…after eating and enjoying it. If so, you’re gonna want to pay close attention to the second episode of

It’s Friday…For Real!

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It’s Friday….For Real: Episode 1

Did y’all enjoy the video….or does it suck? Is there something you’d like for me to talk about in the next episode? Please leave a comment. Be honest…but remember…I do have feelings 🙂

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I’ve got major mommy skills….or not.

Okay, I’m digging in the archives to bring you a list of reasons why I should be Mom of the Year. Or, perhaps have DCFS called on me for a series of Epic Parenting Fails, depending on your perspective–and sense of humor.

And also because I have a bit of writer’s block. Personally, I think this whole middle-aged thing is to blame.

This was originally featured over on Mom of the Year, back in May, but I wanted to share it again here, in case anyone missed it! And of course because I think Meredith is the bestest and deserves a shout-out 🙂  

 

Unlike the other Moms of the Year, I wasn’t invited to the party ….I ASKED to be included. Fortunately, Meredith–the genius behind this collection of kick-ass moms– decided I was cool enough. Or else she thought, ‘Wow, this gal is from the South? Seems like her manners have been replaced with giant, Hollywood-sized balls’ and that intimidated her enough to let me in the club. Whatever. I’ve got the prize.

Hell to the Yeah!!

hell to the yeah!

 

Now I need to tell y’all why I think I deserve it. I’m the youngest of 7 kids, so you get 7 reasons: 

1. I discovered I was preggo after an 8 day vacay to the Sundance Festival, followed by Super Bowl weekend in Vegas in 1999, with my then boyfriend-now husband, The Man. Ironically, I was on BCP’s, and my cycle had always been like clockwork. However, upon our return from a glorious 10 day stint filled with lots of partying like celebrities and rock stars (and some tumbling down snow laden hills with a board strapped to my feet) I realized I was LATE. Took a test: Positive. Went to the doctor: 5 Weeks Positive. So, clearly I was Mom of THAT Year. Mostly because I had been pregnant the entire time we were there, but didn’t know it….and Sugar Bean survived it all, making her healthy entrance into the world 8 months later. Cart before the horse? Check. But hey, when in Hollywood…. 

2. Now, I must preface this one by saying The Man is an eighth Mexican, and I’m part Cherokee Indian, so we are not pale people. Therefore, Sugar Bean has beautiful olive-toned skin as a result–a natural, year-round tan. So imagine my surprise when I took her in to the pediatrician for a check-up around 10 months old, and the doc asked about her eating habits. “Does she eat green veggies?” “Yes,” I replied, “but she prefers orange and yellow ones”. “I can see that,” she remarked. “What do you mean?” I said, puzzled. “Nancy…look at your child. She’s ORANGE. She has beta-carotenemia. Make her eat more greens before you have to change your last name to Oompa Loompa.” The only thing missing from the doc’s response is the word ‘DIPSHIT’ at the end, because that’s what I felt like. Clearly this is Mom of the Year moment #2. 

3. In June 2007, just days after moving into a gated community, I found my 3-year-old Butter Bean playing in the backyard. Buck nekid. Despite my suspicion our neighbors might think The Clampetts had moved in, I just let her be. For all they knew, we were nudists. What’s worse is, she was apparently in a phase.…and preferred being naked, to wearing clothes. I decided not to fight it, and she played naked in the yard all summer. Can’t really say I blamed her…we lived in the Valley, which if you know anything about Los Angeles….is hotter than two rats fucking in a wool sock in the summer. So, allowing nakedness makes me Mom of the Year. I did remember to apply sunscreen each day, in case you were thinking I deserved WORST Mom of the Year. 

4. When Sweet Pea was 3, she accompanied me to do some “day of” birthday shopping for my then, 9 year-old Sugar Bean. While standing in line at Justice, she announced she needed to potty. There were 2 women in line ahead of me, 3 in line behind me, and I had an armload of stuff I couldn’t just abandon to go in search of a mall bathroom, as I was short on time anyway and wouldn’t be able to come back. So I explained to the Tart-in-Charge, that she was currently potty-training, and couldn’t hold it, asking if they had a bathroom she could use. No. Employees only. Upon hearing that, Sweet Pea unleashed a flood and peed in the floor, as we continued to wait in line to pay. I had a few choice words for the cashier as she rung me up, and stared like a deer in headlights. Oh, and the women behind me applauded my Mom of the Year skills as I walked out.  

5. As if we moms need anything else to make a big deal out of for our children, I came up with a whole new holiday deliverer of treats….The Valentine Fairy. She brings gift bags of goodies and small presents for The Beans to wake up to on Valentine’s morning. Sometimes she even leaves a trail of glitter from their bags to the window, depending on whether I want to clean the shit up or not. Of course, in their eyes, it makes me Mom of the Year, while in the eyes of the moms of their friends who inevitably know she visits our house…..I’m more like Overachieving Bitch of the Year. But that’s okay, because it’s the only area I don’t slack in. Besides, it sets the bar very high for their future loves, because they will have always been celebrated on the one day of the year designed to be dedicated to love. Gag, right?

6. Mom of the Year reason number 6 can be directly attributed to the fact that on every birthday in our household, we eat cake for breakfast. School day, weekend day, holiday….doesn’t matter. If it’s your birthday, you get dragged out of bed at 6am and have cake for breakfast. Or pie. Your choice. And you must endure having your early morning party documented with photos showing you looking EXACTLY like you do when you wake up. No primping allowed. Feel free to steal this awesome tradition and practice it in your own family. I stole the idea from my friend Sarah. 

7. I allow Candy Saturdays in our house. What’s that, you ask? No sugar AT ALL during the week, but The Beans can have as much as they want on Saturday. The word “NO”, as it relates to candy, is not uttered on Saturday in our family. It’s my way of making sure they gorge themselves almost to the point of sickness that day, so I don’t have to deal with the begging eyes, requests or tantrums in line at Target while they are standing by the candy displays. So far, it’s worked like a charm. They even FORGET about it from time to time, so they go several weeks without sugar. Oh, and our dentist….she thinks I’m a freaking hero! Or….Mom of the Year!

If this made you laugh, please leave a comment and let me know! And if you have moments like these to share….feel free!

I LOVE to know I’m not alone 🙂

 
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