Thanksgiving Re-Cap

After much thought and consideration, I believe that Thanksgiving is nothing more than a male created holiday. Let's look at this ladies, we cook all day making a cornucopia of heavy foods which harken back to a thoroughly misogynistic time while the men in our lives watch football. Football, people, football. Football games which are chock-full of beer ads, which contain little more than tits. Once the work is done and the meal is served the men venture into the dining room to wolf down what took days to create. With the last slice of pumpkin pie comes the return of football and what do we women do; we go back into the kitchen to clean up. We clear the table, scrap the plates, load the dishwasher, scrub the pots and pans. And tomorrow we will unload the dishwasher, and wash all the table linens. Some of us will even have to iron those linens before they are put up for next year.

Well, ladies I say that next year we tell the men in our lives to just suck it. Let them either take us out or let them do the cooking, cuz we are on strike. Or better yet, let's all just collectively go to Las Vegas on Thanksgiving for cocktails and mail strippers!


Who is with me????

Top Ten Things I Hate About Thanksgiving

Again, I have no fresh ideas. I am without reservation a one trick pony. I also did a list like this last year and it was so freaking good I thought I would just re-post it this year and then I started to feel all guilty. So I decided to do a new one, so really it is just the idea that is recycled and recycling is good!!

10. Family: For the love of all that is good and holy, how much more of these people can I take. Did I mention that my pudgy cousin got a boob job, bitch.

9. Cooking: For real too much time is spent in the kitchen to create stuff that is going to be consumed and turned into poo.

8. My New Laptop has turned on me caused second degree thigh burns. I guess 12-hours of SIMS 3 was a mistake.

7 and 6. Hangovers and Small Children. And by hangover, I don't mean the movie; I mean the real thing. Holy Fuck-Balls, someone shut those kids up, my head is pounding.

5. Wine stains, Cab teeth and other wine related hangover issues. Club soda for the stains, right.

4. The rum cake has migrated to my ass and now I have to run 45 miles.

3. Family: For real enough already

2. The wine: did I mention that too much wine upsets my stomach.

1. Having to hold my pudgy cousins hair extensions while she pukes up all the fucking wine.

Thanksgiving Greetings

Wordless Wednesday~Thankful Addition

I supremely thankful for my family. These three guys have taught me more about love then I can ever express in mere words.

Top Ten Reasons Why I Love Thanksgiving

I did a post about what I love about Thanksgiving last year and this year will be no different. What can I say? I am a one trick pony. Plus this is holiday week and you have to expect some re-runs.


10. Family: Nothing better than being in the warm glow of family, especially when you have recently lost weight and can rub it in the face of your stuck up pudgy cousins (insert evil laughter here)

9. Cooking: I like to cook, so for me this is game time.

8. My new laptop: upon which I will play SIMS 3 while everyone else watches the USC game. Did I mention no one that we know went to USC and I don't fucking know why we watch the dame game every year. For my East Coast friends, I refer to the Trojans, not the Gamecocks.

7. Small children, large drum sticks and thoughts of Christmas.

6. The alcohol. For real check out My Veggie Table for a series of cranberry juice cocktails and I mean real cocktails, not the Ocean Spray cocktail which just means a mixture of cranberries, mine have actual vodka in them.

5. The Wine: No I don't have a problem. Do you? Yes, I am totally buying a #wineparty tank top, so what.

4. The Rum Cake: No problems here, it is made with rum extract. This is the best cake ever, but the recipe is a sworn secret that is shared with no one, not even me. But I can still eat it.

3. Family: Did I mention that already? Gotta love family.

2. The Wine

1. The change to watch my pudgy cousin hit on oddly shaped tree after too much wine!!!

Tips for the TSA

Over the past week or so the TSA has taken some heat for their X-Ray we see you naked scans and their labia/testicle searches. I am not here to debate if this should be happening, this is not that kind of blog. I am here to suggest some ways that the TSA might make this a more pleasurable experience for us all.

• We Put the Sizzle in Safety: This could be the new slogan for the TSA. Whether it be an image of the fiery loins of last Christmas's underpants bomber or the gentle tug of a gloved hand on your buttocks, I think the imagery is astounding.
• TSA Bartenders: Who doesn't like or expect to be groped in a night club. What we need to do is dress this damn pig up a bit! Put a positive spin on things. Speaking of spin:
• TSA DJs: Spread some of LAs finest DJs around the nation to spin some hot tunes while people get their grope on. Might I suggest a little Al Green. He always gets me in the mood.
• Ladies Hour!: From 8am to 9am ladies get free cocktails served by their TSA bartender. Might I suggest that these bartenders be ripped, hot and between the ages of 18-25. I am just thinking this might put the over ladies at ease.
• Hire this guy. Only hire a couple because the line would be way long and filled with woman and maybe a couple of gay guys.

• Disco Ball: Really does this require an explanation.
• Restaurant Gift Cards: To be given to all those exiting the screening area because I know I like to get a free meal out of it after I get fucked.

Please keep in mind that this is the kind of blog were hot men like Clive Owen and Gregory Harrison are going to be objectified by me and possibly other women. Yes, this is that kind of blog.

That Girl

The above photo is me and friend doing something or rather waiting for something to happen in high school. I would guess we are 14 or 15 years old in this photo. I have blacked out my classmates image because she is now married to a gentrified land owner in a small Caribbean nation where the locals often wish her and his family ill will. I added the smiley face because the black blob alone seemed odd. Having a classmate who married an overlord from a small Caribbean nation, not odd apparently.

A couple of weeks ago an old classmate added some photos to her Facebook page and I was tagged in one. That alone is not so odd. I had a rather large high school class(around 500 or so) and being involved with the drama club and drama productions left me appearing in a fair number of photos at that time. What caught my attention was her caption for the picture: I don't know when or where this was taken-R.P. (edited to remove photographer's name) took it- He obviously had an appreciation for beautiful women. After reading the caption I went to check on the photo, feeling certain that she had made an error. My maiden name was a very common name and with the first name Amy there was usually several of us floating around at the same time and I have never been the sort of woman/girl one would call beautiful. Maybe cute, maybe on a good day kind of pretty, but NEVER beautiful. Much to my surprise it was in fact a photo of me. A much much younger me, but still me. I stared at the photo for some time. Trying to remember when it was taken. Trying to remember what was happening at that time. I cringed over the hair, make-up and I started to criticize the image; when it hit me: I was beautiful.

But never in my life have I ever felt beautiful. Honestly not once. Why did my 15 year old self not see herself as something other than ugly and stupid? Well, for most of that young 15 year old person's life she was told she was ugly and stupid. And I don't mean that someone once told me I was chubby or someone once told me I look unattractive. I mean my mother told me directly on multiple occasions that I was ugly, fat and stupid (the Trifecta of low self-esteem). Many years have passed since the last time I allowed my mother to speak to me this way. Okay, not that many. It has been 6 years since I allowed my mother to speak to me in this way. In those 6 years, I have forgiven her for her actions. She did the best she could given her own horridly fucked up childhood and in many ways her actions were an unconscious attempt to not lose me, to keep me at home with her forever. Now when the conversation takes a turn for the worst I simply stop it.

Despite my reconciliation of her words and actions, the scars still remain. I have honestly never looked in the mirror and seen a beautiful woman looking back at me. No matter how often my husband assures me, that I am beautiful, I cannot fully believe him. His image of me is tempered by love, I always say to myself. But this picture and that caption have me rethinking it all. I am thinking that not only was I beautiful then, but that I might just be beautiful now, too. Sometimes you just need to see yourself through someone else's eyes to see what is really there.

Would You? Could You?

The other night the Hubbers and I were discussing what we would and would not do for $1 Billion. Well, it started what we would do for $5000. My husband was shocked to find out that I would do almost nothing for $5000. Seriously in today's dollar, $5000 is chump chain I reasoned. Upping the ante, I asked he would eat a turd for $5000. He was sure that he would. I stated without reserve that I would not. Upping the ante again he asked would I do it for $1 Billion. Again, I said no. I don't think that I would be able to do anything of the sort. Not for any amount of money. Sure I would run naked down Fifth Ave for $1 Billion dollars. I would eat raw meat for $1 Billion dollars. I would even force myself to sleep with Clive Owen for $1 Billion dollars, but I would not be willing to eat a turd. Not even with ketchup.

I asked my twitter friends how they felt about this question and they were pretty equally divided. Some would and some would not. So I ask you inter-web. What would you do for $1 Billion? Would you eat a turd? Would you run naked down a busy street? Would you sleep with Clive Owen? What would you be willing to do?

Correction: My husband has requested that I make it clear that he would not, could not eat a turd for $5000. $1 Billion yes, but $5000, NO. I stand corrected and I profoundly apologize for any harm I may have cause the Hubbers and his family (oh wait, that is me).

Wordless Wednesday

Remember when I said I was not going to do Wordless Wednesday or any Meme for that matter. Well, I lied. I am a liar and my pants are on fire.

but I can still celebrate Autumn. Who says we don't have seasons in California?

Inventions That Should Be

As a parent there are several things that I think should be invented. Now, if these things have been invented, let me know because I want them. If you are talented enough to invent them, then go ahead. I ask only that you speak of me kindly and get the damn link correct.

• GPS for sippie cups: How often have you lost a beverage filled sippie cup only to find it hours, days, weeks or months later? In the case of our milkaholic(The Deedle) milk filled sippies cups found long after lost often have to be tossed directly into the trash. Never lose a sippie cup again with The Ba-Ba Locator
• Suspenders for Pregnant woman: For real, when you are pregnant those damn pants never freaking stay up. I was forever pulling the damn things up. You could have red ones, clear ones and even rainbow Mork from Ork ones. Never lose your britches again with Clip Ups for Cervical Slip Ups.
• Grown Up TV filter: Now by grown up TV, I mean programs like NCIS or CSI. This would protect against programs too gruesome or contextually mature for children. If you wish to filter porn, you need to get a lock for your door. But to filter the more minor prime time shows, try The Sesameizer. The Sesamizer will turn any prime time cop drama into an episode of Elmo is Grouchland when filtered through the eyes of a youngster.
• Sippie Cup Bungee cord: This item causes a sippie dropped from a moving car or stroller to bounce back into the hands of the offending dropper (ahem~ Deedle I am looking at you). This would stop mom or dad from having to stop and pick up the cup or better yet this would stop a jogging mom from tripping over the dropped cup. Never trip up again, with Sip Be Up, the Sippie Cup Bungee Cord.
• A Mischief Alarm: Tired of actually having to keep an eye on your children. Never fear, the Mischief Sniffer is here. This device will alert you the minute your child begins to wave that old crutch in the air dangerously near the ceiling fan.
• Mother New Little Helper~Children's Valium: Kids strung out, day to day life got them down, too much candy, too much Yo-Gabba-Gabba winding them up. Never fear, Palium(Diazapram) is here. That is right child strength Valium in convenient chewable V shaped gummies.

Return of Project Big Ass Reduction

Right off the bat, let me say hello to those individuals to come to my blog by searching the words: BIG ASS MOM, BIG ASS, BIG ASS TRAFFIC or any variation of the sort. Hey guys! I am assuming you are all guys. I applaud you for your love of the big ass-ed woman, but I again have to suggest you instead search the terms: Kim and Kardashian. I think you might be happier with what you discover. Again, thanks for stopping by and good luck you to!

For those who have been stopping by since the beginning and are not looking for images of the big ass-ed woman or for images of ass traffic (shudder~shudder), you know that I have been struggling with my weight for some time. Over the last six years since I got pregnant with the K-Man I have gained more weight than I care to admit and I lost the same 8 pounds over and over and over and over again in the time as well. Sadly my efforts were continually stymied by depression, pregnancy and a series of co-dependent "friendships" which revolved around eating, drinking and little else.

On my 39th birthday I really hit rock bottom. For the first time in 5 years I spent that birthday with just my family. It was a very depressing proposition that save for perfunctory Facebook Happy Birthdays, my birthday went completely unnoticed by the group of friends I had once been so close to. There was no dinner with friends, no celebration with friends, no movie with friends. Oh wait, there was one card that made fun of my general appearance, but I was not even sure that was for my birthday. I think it was just to cause pain and confusion. Anyway, as the day approached I waited in dread. I ate, I cried, and I moped around the house. I was general pain in the ass to live with. Then the day came and it dawned on me that none of that other stuff matter, none of those other people mattered. The only people I really needed to worry about were right where they belonged, they were at my side. On the day, that I turned 39, I decided to change some things with myself. Because no matter how hard I try I cannot change anyone else. I cannot make people be nice. I cannot make people be honest with me. I cannot make anyone do anything. Okay, I can make the Deedle do some things, but even those days are numbered.

So, I decided to start treating myself better. I decided to start eating right and exercising and soon the depression went away. I decided that at 39 I was happy with the family I had and the thought/threat of future pregnancies went away. I decided that I would no longer participate in social situations which are solely about food and soon the rest of the pain went away. And a new stronger me began to emerge.


Here is what I once looked like:

This was from some time last fall and it was probably one of the few full body photos taken of me.

This is from right before October. This was two months after I begin using myfitnesspal.com to track my food and workouts. I joined MFP on August 29th and in that time I have dropped 19.5 pounds. I have exercised every day no matter what. I have exercised with a migraine. I have exercised after a nasty fall. I have exercised through minor injuries (non-falling variety). I have exercised the day of and the day after surgery. I have exercised while sick with a stomach bug and while battling a bad cold. I have exercised over 75 days in a row and I have honestly not felt this strong and healthy since moving back to California in 2005.

Up In Smoke

Dear California Voter,

In the future if you are going to vote Jerry Brown and Gavin Newsome into state wide office would you please be so kind as to vote YES on any initiative(s) that involves decriminalizing marijuana. Because right now I really need to get high and stay that way for the foreseeable future and now the only thing I have at my disposal is cough syrup. Fuck!

Sincerely,

The Mom