Sorry.

So since I can’t share any shiny pictures with you, I’d thought I’d share some of my parenting tips for summer so that you can feel better about yourself as a parent. You may thank me later…or take me off your reader, your call.

Summer always starts with the best of intentions. We will get the children out of bed at a reasonable hour, we will take them to do one fun thing each day, we will work to ensure numerous playdates and above all, we will encourage them to partake in the endless bounty of fresh fruits and vegetables available this time of year. It’s nice to dream. Below is a list of what summer really turns out like around here:

• Starting off with that “endless bounty of fresh fruits and vegetables” nonsense….we think it’s a great idea.    The children, however, would beg to differ.   The only fruit they are eating is strawberries and the occasional watermellon.    Miss G will happily snarf down cantelope if I can muster up the energy to cut it into just the right size bites but will think twice after her brother pronounces it “slimy”, “gross” and “weird colored”.   (Did I mention he is color blind?    We call it orange, he calls it a shade of “blech”.)
• Bathing is optional.    Days can go by without these children meeting a bar of soap.   We know we’ve let them ripen past their due date when they begin to smell slightly like stale corn chips.    Then it’s a one hour negotiation session to get both of them to shower and wash their hair.
• The pool counts as a bath.   But only before they smell like corn chips so like days 1 and 2 of not bathing.    And sometimes day 3.   But never 4 because that would make me a bad mother.   Oh wait.
• Prior to summer, the bottom half of our house is all mine.   Things must be neat and tidy, crumbs from cookies, pretzels and pop tarts are not allowed in my area.   Neither are sadly deflated juice packs.   In summer, you could forage for a week in our den and manage to gain weight eating the leftover bits left on the floors, thirst would not be a problem either because there is absolutely no reason to drink all the juice in the Capri Sun package even if your Mother reminds you that there are children who would love to have a luxury like a cold juice.
• Regarding above guilt trip, it doesn’t work in the summer.     Or any other time of the year for that matter.
• Bedtime?  What bedtime?    At some point, The Man and I are laying half dead on the floor covered in cookie crumbs and exhausted from trying to force them to eat when they finally migrate upstairs….which I might add is neater than downstairs now.    (Trust me, the visual is frightening….)     It’s never before 9:30 or so which leads me to my next point.
• Early to bed and early to rise.    We’ve covered off on the early to bed thing, let’s talk about mornings.   Or mid mornings.   Or whenever they manage to migrate back down to the bottom of the house, smelling of corn chips with dragon breath and demanding a sugar coated breakfast.    Shortly after breakfast, the sugar crash sets in and mayhem erupts right outside my office door and usually when I am on the phone with a client.
• We have a general rule in this house that after you whine eleventy million times, “I’m booooored” all fun is immediately halted.   I’m happy to announce that they reached their limit on week two of summer break and we are now officially giving the finger to any form of entertainment that might present itself.    We may revisit this again in a week or so.

So there you have it, a partial list of my summer parenting skills.   Now…go give yourself a pat on the back,  print out this post and use it as a threat against your children should they start to act up.    I promise you they will straighten up at the thought of going to live with  Aunty Stiletto for a week or so.

You’re welcome.

This is my dining room table once we unearthed all the decorations. As you can see, I even decorated my daughter for the decorating. Redundant? Yes, but you didn’t come here for perfect grammar did you? Also, the blurry thing on the side is the cat making a break for it before I tried to decorate her too.

This is Zed the Zombie that will great you at our front door. “Zed’s dead, baby…” 10 pts if you can guess what line that movie is from.

This would be my chandelier covered in tiny ghouls…here take a closer look….

Do you want to know how long it took to get those creepy little guys up there? No. You really don’t.

I love that this bony lady appears to be flipping us off…she has such a bad attitude, she fits right in around here.

That’s the banquet in our dining room. Has anyone seen The Man lately?

Oh, that’s right, I forgot about that “little fight” we had…

We also have a party for our friends every year at Halloween. Throughout the house, you will find pictures of famous people who “went to the other side” since the last Halloween.

Before you think the entire house is totally creepy, it’s not. It is decked out as well but mostly with cute stuff like this:

and this…

and these guys….

To be honest, I think that one little pumpkin is just shocked at the staggering amount of alcohol behind him.

After seeing all this, do you think I have a problem?

Okay, maybe I do.

Hope you have a spooktacular Halloween!

I’ve made it this far without wardrobe panic. To be honest, I haven’t really thought about it at all. Until last week when I found out I was going to have the chance to attend the Nikon Night Out party hosted by none other than Carson Kressley. (Note to loyal audience: If at this point you are saying “Who is Carson Kressley?” TSM is now giving you the side eye while quietly informing you he was the fashion expert on “Queer Eye for the Straight Guy” and soon to be my new gay boyfriend…then kicking you in the shins with pointy stiletto for not knowing better.)

I would very much like to see him make this face upon meeting me:

…and not so much this face:

I thought I had it all under control but the stress finally set in this last weekend when “ohmygodohmygodohmygod..i’mgoingtomeetcarsonkressley!!!” started playing in an endless loop in my head. I did what any normal person would do and found an A List Blogger to drag into my home, plied her with wine and then dragged her into my closet and subjected her a miniature fashion show. (Because if you are foolish enough to actually enter my home, I like to make sure you are entertained with a small nervous breakdown.) I’m talking about none other than the most fabulous Allison Worthington who was the person kind enough to invite me to such a fancy party and whom I greatly hope to not embarass while there, but I think we all know the odds of that happening are slim at best non-existent.

Anyway, I have it down to two outfits now.

The first is very SJP/Sex in the City:

…which scares me a little because honestly, I am so not SJP/Sex in the City. I’m more TSM/Yawning at 10 in the Burbs.

The second is the safer choice, more “Little Black Dress Meets Heavy Metal”:

…but again, it’s the safe choice, I’d blend in more, and also is accompanied by a pair of equally painful shoes.

See my dilemna? So tell me which outfit you think is most appropriate for my planned stalking of Carson Kressley…and you may want to warn him I’m on my way as well.

Also, let me know if you are going to be at BlogHer so I can stalk you too! I’ll be easy to find, I’ll be the one complaining about how much my feet hurt…can’t wait to see you guys!

I know, try to control yourselves.

It was a great week. It started off shaky when we had to drop the kids off at camp. I handled it with all the panache I expected….which is to say I was a total basketcase.

The crying started in earnest on Saturday while I was packing them. Putting twenty little outfits together, each individually sealed in plastic bags.

Stop it with the eye rolling. I had my reasons.

For Mr. C, it’s that he is totally and completely color blind. Left to his own devices, he will appear in an outfit that will make you ask if his name is Mort and if he is, in fact, a retired 75 year old banker getting ready to search for shells on the beach in Miami, white socks and all. Miss G on the other hand has two fashion theories. First of all, short is good and secondly, shorter is better. Call me cah-razay, but Mort the retired 75 year old banker from Miami and his sidekick, Daisy Duke, seemed to not be the best representation of my family.

By the time Sunday morning rolled around and it was time to go, I had pretty much lost it. Found my giant black sunglasses to hide behind and started my mantra of “You will not lose it at camp, you will not lose it at camp. No, really. YOU WILL NOT LOSE IT AT CAMP….”

Really?

Oh yes, I would.

Here’s the thing you should know, the camp we send our kids to really is the happiest place on earth. I’d put Disney up against it any day. When you arrive, there is a pretty long line of cars filtering in and all the kids hang out the sunroofs to wave at all the camp counselors who are greeting you on horseback, from boats as they water ski by or handing you cookies as you enter the gates.

Every single one of those happy people caused me to cry until I was a heaving mess hiding behind my big dark glasses in the back seat because on camp drop off day, the only word that applies to me is unstable.

I would have killed for an experience like this when I was a kid. I went to Camp Grady Spruce here in Texas and when you pulled up and got out of your poorly air conditioned car, you walked through a dusty parking lot and were greeted by a line of surly people with buckets full of sulfur they dusted all over you to keep you from getting eaten alive by mosquitos which subsequently made you stink and turn an alarming shade of day glo yellow as your parents peeled out of the parking lot laughing at you getting to spend a week in an un-airconditioned cabin.

Wow…that sentence was a gramatical nightmare, huh? Sorry, punctuation is not my forte when remembering the horror of summer camp as a child.

Anyway.

Here are a few pictures of them as we dropped them off at their cabins.

This is Mr. C’s third year to go to camp. I love the “Oh here we go again” look on his face. He looks a little sad. But you can also see he’s hesitant, sort of like, “This situation could turn south any minute now….” This was taken moments before he gave The Man the secret signal to get me out of the cabin before I melted down. He’s a smart boy.

After being forcibly evicted from Mr. C’s cabin, I headed on to the next challenge, unpacking Miss G. We got her to her cabin and got busy while she socialized. I should tell you that we let each of the kids pick out stencils for their trunks. Mr. C went with a baseball and pokemon theme, Miss G chose dolphins.

Naughty, naughty dolphins.

Folks, this is a Christian camp we are talking about. We raced to get that trunk stored away before anyone could ask what was going on with Flipper and his little lady friend.

Finally unpacked, The Man asked Miss G for a final hug and kiss at which point she completely and totally ignored him. His only purpose in her mind was to get the crazy lady in the big dark glasses she sometimes calls Mommy out of there before a scene started. I can’t be sure but I think she would have given us the finger at that point if a.) she knew how and b.) she was not at aforementioned Christian camp. Come to think of it, I’m not sure that second point would have mattered to her. She calls it like she sees it…the apple definitely did not fall far from the tree with that one.

The Man did manage to drag me out of there before I embarassed us too much and I’d like to thank all my friends who saw me that day that were kind enough not to laugh in my face, because I totally deserved it.

With the reality of an entire week to ourselves, The Man and I did what any responsible parents would do while our kids were away at camp.

We got on a plane and headed to Napa.

Come back later this week and I’ll share our travels throughout the wine country and tell you about the hotel room that caused me to think we were on an episode of “I’m A Celebrity, Get Me Out Of Here”.

We are so totally the new Speidi.

It was a stretch. The fights started almost immediately and I have to thank none other than The Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders for saving my sanity. How is this you ask? Well, because in this house we are all about the cheerleader (which, in case you have forgotten, was a place I never thought I’d find myself), we decided to take it up a notch and enroll Miss G in Dallas Cowboy Cheerleader camp.

They did save my sanity. My personal sense of self worth? Not so much.

Try feeling good about yourself in the face of this:

And this:

Now try doing it on a “fat day”. On top of that, I’d like to add that these beautiful young women appear to not perspire. At all. The room we were in was pretty hot, and I’m not sure but I think that maybe, perhaps, possibly….I experienced a tiny little hot flash because suddenly my hair frizzed, my clothes became soaked and my makeup ran down my face creating sad little puddles of color all over my boobs. I could tell you it would have run straight off to the floor if my boobs weren’t swollen too but that would be overkill. I don’t need this kind of grief in my life people.

Oh wait, did I just tell you about my swollen boobs? Sorry, that sorta slipped out. Dammit.

The best part of this entire experience (aside from the stellar performance turned in by Miss G) was that Mr. C was standing right next to me and had the exact same view. Watching him trying not to watch was hilarious. He tried. He failed. He enjoyed it almost as much as his Dad did. Chip off the old block, that one.

Here’s the worst part. Those girls? Are so nice. Had I gotten even the tiniest hint of attitude, I would have totally been able to throw out the line, “Yes, but I have a great personality!”

Which, you know, would have made me feel better for at least :15 seconds.

Oh, and all you Daddy bloggers? Whether or not you are Cowboy fans?

You’re welcome for the pictures.

Tonight, Miss G and I were hanging out on the back porch doing the stuff we love to do. For me, this means sitting with my computer, for her it means spending time on the swings showing me all of her exciting new tricks. You can imagine my shock when suddenly I heard her screaming at the top of her lungs. I totally freaked out and raced around the corner to make sure she hadn’t broken something or fallen on her head which thankfully she had not.

What I did see stopped me dead in my tracks. Our 38 pound pug, Mr. Potter, had decided to mirror another character from a movie and go totally Hannibal Lecter on a teensy bunny in our back yard. By teensy I mean all of four inches long with big floppy ears and by moment of death I mean 15 minutes of prolonged cruelty that resulted in something that may take years of therapy to erase from my precious daughter’s head. It was so unreal that at one point I fully expected him to start talking and tell me he enjoyed the bunny with a nice chianti and some fava beans because it was just that gruesome.

It bears noting that this of course happened when The Man was not here because that is just the way it had to go down.

It also bears noting that this particular dog only moves approximately 1.5 times per day because he is not only amazingly fat, but lazy as well. This is a dog that appears to be too scared of the bigger bunnies that actually eat all of our landscaping to do anything. I’m not sure, but it seems they actually taunt him and I am not kidding when I tell you it would not shock me to see one of them crawl up on his back while he dozes in the back yard and start jumping up and down in an effort to see if he will actually move. Give him a smaller, slower moving bunny, however, and apparently it is game on.

We tried everything to make it stop. Miss G threw rocks at him while sobbing uncontrollably, I went after him with a broom yelling at the top of my lungs, “OH MY GOD….THERE’S SO MUCH BLOOD!!!!” I can only imagine what on earth my neighbors thought. If you think for one moment I was going to swoop in and pick up that lump of lard mid bite, you’ve got another think coming.

Also, did you know bunnies can scream?

They can. Really loud too.

Finally, I realized I could not stop this bunny murdering pug in his thirst for blood letting in our back yard, grabbed a screaming and crying Miss G and ran inside and locked the door and then made the unfortunate choice of trying to serve her ravioli for dinner which incidentally, did not go over well for either of us after what we had just seen because as a mother, I am just that awesome and thoughtful.

After the flashback subsided from the unfortunate ravioli incident, I managed to bathe her and get her to bed….in our room of course. The dog was finally allowed back inside and he is now laying on the floor, resting from his big kill, looking like this:

Is it just me, or does his stomach look just a little bit larger tonight?

Rest in peace bunny friend….

The surgery went swimmingly. I pretty much slept for four days straight and then tried to go back to work on Monday. Tried…and FAILED. I fell asleep sitting up in my chair and threw in the towel. Apparently, I am not cut out for any type of prescription drug abuse because I quit taking the damn things Saturday and was still hung over from them on Monday.

My life as a hard core pharm party girl? Not so much.

Got back to work on Tuesday. Busted my butt to get caught up. Did not leave my chair or my house for a few reasons. First of all, I still had a slighty oompa loompa appearance going on….all roundish and short…and could not fit in my clothes. Secondly, well…I don’t know what the second reason is other than I am horrifically vain and you are just never gonna see me looking that bad.

Finally Wednesday, I had gone back to my normal size and was able to put on a pair of jeans to go out to lunch. Bad move. I spent an hour on my feet and when I got home ohmygodthepain. So back I went to the oompa loompa wardrobe until the next day when I went to the doctor for my post op follow up.

Get to the doctor, tell him proudly I was able to get into my jeans well in advance of the one week he said it would take and he was all, “ARE YOU CRAZY?” Apparently, I was not supposed to do that and my uterus (now known as the uterFUSS) did not like it one tiny little bit. I was told in no uncertain terms that jeans and high heels (gasp) were not to be a part of m wardrobe for yet another week. Okay, I can deal with that…sort of.

So my uterFUSS and I went back home and resumed the oompa loompa wardrobe and the endless sitting around, not being able to go on calls, not willing to go out in public. You would think that would be the end of it.

But no.

Now, I just have NO IDEA how this happened but sometime Thursday, I threw my back out. How this happened in my almost catatonic state is truly one of the great medical mysteries in life. This has never happened to me and I even had a bone scan at the doctors office the day before where they told my how strong my spine was. (Like I didn’t know that already. Pfft.) All I know is I woke up Friday morning with my back so cramped I could not get out of bed. I was stuck like a turtle who gets turned over on it’s shell and The Man had to hoist me out of bed. After I calmed the children down from the shriek heard round the world when I stood up, I went into the bathroom to brush my teeth.

This is were the story takes an even nastier turn.

Look in the mirror, and I am covered in hives. Lips and eyes swollen, hunched over, I looked a bit like this….

Quasimoto? I feel your pain brother. My teeth looked a little bit better but not much because apparently I had slept with my mouth open all night as well.

Attractive, right?

This is not the first time the hives have taken over my life. I didn’t take a picture this time, but this is picture of me last year after an attack. Important to note here, this is two hours after getting back from the hospital where the attendant actually yelled, “Oh My Holy Hell!!!!” when I walked in. I took the high road told him to eff off and continued walking at which point, he slapped me down on a gurney before I could die and sue them. Apparently, they take the whole “hives” thing pretty seriously and I was class A scary.

Also? If any of y’all could petition People Magazine to include me in the “Most Beautiful Without Makeup” series, that would be great. No? Hmph.

Seriously…that picture is TWO HOURS after they injected me with some very potent stuff to make the swelling go down. I know that I look like Octomom collagen lips gone wrong, however, I do hope you will notice that even in my Quasimoto state, I had the forethought to put on red lipstick. Never let it be said that Stiletto is not vain.

Here’s the thing. I’m not allergic to anything. No one knows why this happens to me. Last time it lasted for SIX MONTHS. I think it means God is getting even with me for some past transgression but the medical community just does not buy that as a viable excuse. Go figure.

So anyway, there you have it, why I’ve been absent for an entire week. Hopefully, next week I will be a.) non oompa loompa b.) upright and c.) non Quasimoto.

Come back Monday or Tuesday for a very special rant on Dr. Laura.

…and now, I am off to skulk in my tiny corner of the bell tower for the rest of the weekend. Hope you all have a good one!

I had already signed up for Blissdom when I heard she was coming which makes me slightly less of a stalker…but not really. Leading up to the event, I re-read Bitter is the New Black and Bright Lights, Big Ass in TWO DAYS. I should also tell you that this came on the heels of me devouring all four Twilight books in the course of one month. The Man thought he was finally going to be able to have a conversation with me again. That is, until he saw me with my Jen Lancaster books and immediately said, “Oh God, not HER again!”. Yep….she was back with vengence in our lives.

Also, you should know that I sent her an email in advance of Blissdom. Having never sent fan mail before, I felt like a total ass but felt it was only fair to warn her that I might perhaps be a bit, JUST A TINY BIT of a full time resident of Jennsylvania and her number one fan. (Not number one fan like Stephen King’s Misery, more like I’d like to kidnap her and force her to go for mannies and peddies and then come back home, bake brownies, braid each others hair and watch American Idol….just to be clear.)

I had private coaching sessions with myself in the weeks leading up to Blissdom where I repeatedly lectured myself to maintain control. “You are not going to freak out. You are not going to make an ass of yourself. You are not going to GUSH ALL OVER HER.”

Really?

OH YES I WAS.

I saw Jen the first night at the cocktail party, walked up, introduced myself and she said “Oh, you’re The Stiletto Mom? I asked someone else if they were you earlier today.”

Control flew out the door and I proceeded to vomit tiny pink hearts and daisies at her feet.

OhMyGod…YouWon’tBelieveThisButIReReadTheFirstTwoBooksBecause
IHadToGetInTouchWithMyInnerJenBeforeICameThereAndOMGTheyWereStill
EveryBitAsGoodMyHusbandIsAboutToKillMeBecauseITotallyStoppedTalking
ToHimDidYouLikeTwighlight?AnywayIJustWantedToIntroduceMyself
BecauseIJustLoveAllOfYourBooksAndYouAreTheEntireReasonIHaveABlog…

Deep Breath…and…

Ahem.

Thankfully, she is probably one of the Nicest. People. Ever. because not only did she allow me to vault myself at her and give her a hug, she continued to talk to me for several minutes after. Seriously people? She could have been standoffish given that little stalky moment I threw out but she made me feel like I had known her forever. When someone else walked up to her she was nice enough to say “Come find me tomorrow, we’ll finish talking.”

Wait. That sounded like an invitation.

So, of course I found her. I asked for a picture with her first thing in the morning.

In the afternoon, I sat through her panel on book deals and then her keynote address which was nothing short of awesome. She listed some tenents she lives by, they were all great but my favorite by far was “Learn to embrace your failures.” Not only is this my favorite because I totally agree, but also because she is living proof that if you take the time to really examine what happened and how you played a roll in it, not only do you learn from it but you can change the course of your life by building on that knowledge. I have many failures I can wrap my arms around so I figure I’ve got a really good start on this one and plan to put it in action quickly.

No, really, I’m being serious. I am the proud owner of a truckload of FAIL, I’m hoping I may be on to something here.

After listening to her speech, I ran out to the table where they were selling books for her to autograph. Sure, this marks the fourth time I’ve bought Bitter is the New Black (twice while I was reading it because I lost one, one before leaving Dallas for her to autograph that I left behind and now this) but who’s counting? I waited in a very long line and when I finally made it up to the front, I told her that really my stalking would not be complete if I didn’t have the chance to wait in line and buy her book for the fourth time. I am serious about my stalking and I think she appreciated it because look how she signed my book…

Wait. Was that another invitation? Probably not. But why let a silly thing like a possible restraining order stop me from entertaining myself the rest of the conference? Pfft.

Later that night, after the belching incident with my tiny friend, White Trash Mom, she and I joined a table in the restaurant where Poppy Buxom, Domestic Chicky, Vintage Squirrel and of course, Jen Lancaster, were sitting. (pretty sure she knew she wasn’t gonna get away from me at this point…) I cannot even begin to tell you how much fun it was…total silliness, lots of giggling and for me, perhaps one drink too many. When it was time to call it a night (which they chose to call it a night…I chose to continue my stupidity with Tara from Ligit Amy at OutDoorDogs and Michelle from Vintage Squirrel who also chose to soldier on…) I had to start the whole unfortunate hugging thing again. What can I say, I’m a lovah. I’m not sure, BUT, I think I stepped on Jen’s toes or maybe it was Poppy Buxom…either way, probably not my proudest moment. Way to leave a mark, and by mark, I mean a possible bruise.

So there you have it, the story of how I met someone I’ve been dying to meet for several years and made a bigger fool of myself than the time I met Tom Cruise.

Yes, really.

Good thing she told us all about that “Embracing your failures” thing….looks like I’ve got something to bear hug after this conference!

1. In my life, I have been bone crushing poor, fairly wealthy and now live somewhere in the middle….which is the best and most comfortable place to be. And I am thankful for every step of the way because I learned so much. I have been blessed with a family straight out of a Leave It To Beaver episode and friends that I never dreamed I would be lucky enough to find, let alone keep.
2. I was born in Dallas more years ago than I care to mention
3. My parents were the most happily married people I ever met.
4. I have not one complaint about my up-bringing.
5. My greatest success in life will be if I can be half the Mom my Mother was.
6. I am an only child.
7. In grade school, I was considered obese.
8. Kids used to jump out of their chairs when I sat down like there was an earthquake.
9. I hated most of the kids that did that until my 20th reunion.
10. I have since forgiven because there is so much more to be worried about.
11. In high school I was in Drill Team.
12. I tried out for cheerleader and didn’t make it.
13. I am now thankful for not making cheerleader because it taught me a valuable lesson in life…it won’t always go your way, no matter how much you want it.
14. When I didn’t make cheerleader, my Mother gave me a little present to try and make me feel better.
15. I acted like a total bitch.
16. I wish more than anything I could take that moment back.
17. I was not a total bitch however, to a skinny little popular girl named Lisa, who 27 years later is still one of my best friends and lives only a few streets over….because even if we don’t talk every day, it feels good to be near each other. I love you Weezie.
18. I fell in love for the first time with a boy named John Mark Griffin. John Mark, if you were to by some odd consequence to come across my blog? Thank you for being a gentleman and never asking me to compromise my values…because I probably would have…and to this day, I hope the first love of my daughters life is as respectful as you.
19. I went to college at Stephen F Austin in Nacodoches, Texas.
20. I made a ton of great friends that I didn’t keep up with. I wish I had.
21. I never finished college. I had to come home because my Father was dying.
22. I regret not finishing college.
23. But I don’t regret the reasons why I didn’t.
24. My Dad died in my arms and it haunts me to this day.
25. I never went back to college because I had to take care of my Mother.
26. I will never regret that decision either.
27. After my Dad died and I came home I made some VERY. BAD. DECISIONS. Not a point of my life I am proud of.
28. My Mother fell apart when my dad died and I had to grow up and pick up the tiny little pieces left behind.
29. I don’t regret that part either, although at the time it was….not fun.
30. She never really bounced back even though depressed she was still the funniest person I ever met…and such a good friend.
31. She was my very best friend of all.
32. She introduced me to another best friend…Gretchen…who some 20 odd years later, still makes me laugh every time I talk to her…Gotchy, thank you for being a great friend and a good example to my son…I love you.
33. I, um, shall we say “kissed a lot of frogs” in the 80′s. A LOT. Again, not proud.
34. I dated one guy for four and a half years that was the most verbally abusive human I have ever met. After him I dated a slew of losers that made me doubt my self worth and damaged any hope I had for ever becoming successful.
35. But then I met a guy who changed my life forever.
36. I met my future husband in a bar. He proposed about 300 times before I accepted…and I am not kidding.
37. I am thankful he met my Mom…because she loved him more than any guy I ever brought home before him.
38. She died 6 weeks after we got engaged.
39. I still lived with her because I was picking up the tiny pieces still from my Dad dying and I wasn’t home the night she had a fatal heart attack.
40. I think if I had been home I could have saved her. I will NEVER forgive myself for that night EVER.
41. To this day, I think it’s my fault she died…and I punish myself for it a little bit each day…so many years later.
42. I still cry at least once a week when I think of her, almost 17 years later…that wound will never heal.
43. I still think to this day she was waiting to make sure there was someone in the wings that would love me the way she did. Thank you Mom….he does.
44. The Man and I got engaged six weeks after the first day we kissed…well, that and other stuff.
45. Sometimes you know when right is right and you just go for it.
46. We didn’t tell anyone for six months. SIX MONTHS!!!!!
47. When The Man proposed to me formally so we could tell my Mom, he broke out in hives, even though we had been secretly engaged for six months and I’m pretty sure he knew what the answer was.
48. We couldn’t afford an engagement ring at the time so his Mom gave us a cocktail ring his Dad gave her a long time ago when they were still married.
49. We got married on a ski slope two years later.
50. My entire family was late.
51. His, was not.
52. Thankfully so was the JP (a woman) who married us as well.
53. After we got married, we lived in the house I had grown up in and it fell down around our ears. And by this, I mean the roof was falling in…really.
54. He worked three jobs trying to support us while trying to literally put the roof back on the house by himself before it fell in completely.
55. I worship him for that to this day.
56. We finally bought our first (non falling down) house in Carrolton, Texas. It was great. And we were very proud of it.
57. We had next door neighbors that we would sit in the front yard with and get totally smashed on Halloween…I wish I knew where they are now because they were awesome.
58. We dreamed of starting a family but we couldn’t afford it.
59. And then I got a job at a start up called Yahoo.
60. My job at Yahoo came courtesy of my third best friend Traci….who has had to put up with my craziness perhaps more than all the other BFF crowd. Traci, you are my apex and I don’t have to tell you how much I love you….we say it to each other all the time, not with words but with the bond we share and the bond our children are forming.
61. And I got pregnant.
62. My favorite movie in the entire world is, “It’s a Wonderful Life” so when I found out I was pregnant, I came home and said, “Mr Man Lasoos Stork!” and he almost fell over.
63. I still remember exactly where he was standing when I told him.
64. We moved to a bigger house in Coppell, Texas a few months before Mr. C was born.
65. We had the most awesome neighbors there as well.
66. I went into labor with Mr. C at work and refused to leave.
67. It was a Monday.
68. I got home and started making a lot of noise during Monday Night Football.
69. The Man did not like that.
70. 21 hours later…and only two of those with drugs, Mr. C made his entry into the world…and my whole life changed.
71. I love my son more than life itself.
72. And my job was crazy….i traveled all the time and missed his first steps.
73. And then I got pregnant again and quit when I was six months along and took four years off..
74. We moved to again two weeks before Miss G was born.
75. The house we moved into was designed from the ground up by me….architecture, knobs on cabinets….everything….and it was magnificent.
76. I unpacked the entire house during my nesting phase.
77. And then 9/11 happened. And the world changed.
78. I delivered Miss G three days later on 9/14…but I had gestational diabetes and they took her away for six hours…but when they brought her to me, she looked like the most perfect girl I had ever seen.
79. My heart split in two and I learned as much as you love the first baby, you love the second one just as much.
80. And your husband even more than you already did.
81. After Miss G was past her first year, I went to cooking school.
82. Before that I couldn’t boil an egg.
83. I am now an excellent cook when I choose to be.
84. Miss G started pre-school and Mr. C started elementary school.
85. I joined the PTA.
86. That was a bad decision.
87. After a year of listening to bickering and taking slack from a woman who wore a t-shirt to school that said “Save A Horse, Ride A Cowboy” I actually said “Fuck y’all” and walked the hell out.
88. Best decision I ever made.
89. Love the women there now, I think I just lucked into an extremely dysfunctional year.
90. We moved out of the house I built and into another one because the area we lived in was not exactly kid friendly and we found that the house, as grand as it was, no longer made us happy.
91. Through the process of living in that grand house and then moving out of it and the speculation that went on in our neighborhood, I realized I had a fourth best friend…the fourth horseman actually…in the form of a woman named Korey who made me realize that I could balance my life and a big career because she has been the master of that for many, many years. Korey..my Korean sister…I love you and you know it.
92. I went back to work for CBS Digital.
93. I worked for a guy that I would kill for to this day….Chris Fix? You hear me? You gave me all of my confidence back and for that? I am forever grateful and in your debt. I mean that my friend.
94. A couple of jobs later I am at another company whose name I will not say, but I’m happy.
95. My children are now 10 and 7.
96. Mr. C is the most thoughtful child I have ever met. His heart breaks at the thought of hurting someones feelings and he gives the best snuggles ever.
97. Miss G is a life force unto itself. She is thoughtful as well, but will not think for a minute before shutting you down in the most public manner possible.
98. The apple, it would seem, does not fall far from the tree.
99. And I am still….almost 15 years later, married to The Man.
100. We have had more than our fair share of ups and downs and to this day, I am so thankful for that very fateful day when I met him in a bar and acted every inch not the lady…and he fell in love with me anyway.

So to all of those that read me, first of all….THANK YOU. You have made my day as I have gotten to know all of you. My life is forever changed for having the pleasure of getting to know you, in real life or just in cyber space…I am so very thankful for each and every one of you.

And to each and every member of my family and friends, whether mentioned or not, I am the luckiest girl in the world for having the support system around me that I do…I love you all!

But I’m not going to tell you what it is.

You have to guess.

Be the first to decode this and you will win….well you won’t win anything but I’ll give you a public shout out tomorrow on my blog with linky love just for being so damn smart.

Go ahead…guess!

PS: Oh, and East Coast Fan? Since you already know do me a favor and don’t answer the question!!! I love you but I will fly to CT and hunt you down if you mess with me!