Sunless tanner: Oh, my bronze friend- thank you for making my ass look less flabby and for disguising my cellulite. Thank you for faking that I have toned abs and golden gams!

 Victoria’s Secret Very Sexy Push-up Bra: Thank you for helping me to pretend that I have the perfectly perky and forward pointing boobs that I had before I had kids. Thank you for coming with 1/2″ thick pads for me to place my doughy breasts on to make it look like either I’m 23 and a DD, or that I’ve spent $6,000 on a new set.

Kegels: Thank you, Dr. Sara, my OB/Gyn for both pregnancies, for instilling in me the importance of doing kegels. Thank you to myself for doing them, and for allowing me to sneeze and laugh without peeing on myself. Thank you God for designing women’s bodies so that you can do Kegels without anyone knowing- I think it’s always an adventure to see how many I can do, say, in line at the grocery store, or at a stoplight. Someday, I intend to learn how to do them without holding my breath, so that I can be doing them while talking to someone- could be you!

Wine: Thank you for giving me solstice at the end of a crazy day with my kids. Thank you for being so soothing, calming, nurturing. Thank you for having lots of fans, so that I’m always busy at work! Thank you for making me laugh, and for allowing me to think that I really do sound like Robert Plant when I sing Led Zeppelin when I’m drunk at karaoke.

Adhesive Breast Petals: Thank you for allowing me to go braless in revealing dresses that are made for 20-something girls who’s nipples still point forward. Thank you for masking unsightly “headlights”, and letting me go one more year wearing skimpy shit that a woman my age probably shouldn’t be wearing in the first place.

Jeans with lycra: Thank you for being so stretchy, and for allowing me to pretend that I still wear a size 4. Thank you for being made with a button with a metal rivet, so that I can keep pretending I’m a size that I’m actually two sizes larger than, and use a rubberband around the rivet and through the buttonhole to give me an extra inch around the middle. Thank you zipper for putting up with my constant pulling up with a set of pliars.

My Hairstylist: Thank you for letting me fake being blonde for so many years. Thank you for cutting my hair so that it looks thicker than it is, and coloring it so that it looks “natural”.

Candles: Thank you for making my house smell so good, and making it look so festive and elegant. Thank you also for your “airbrushing” properties- everyone looks hotter, younger, thinner in candlelight (and after a couple of glasses of wine)!

Spanx: Thank you for sculpting my thighs and ass and making it look like I just spent two hours at the gym. Thank you for having cut-off legs so that I can wear you under a short dress, and no one knows I’m wearing sausage casing that keeps all my lumps and bumps smooth under a slutty little black dress. I’ll thank you more next year if you come out with a version that allows me to breathe while wearing, or even better, come out with a crotchless version (it’s like a wrestling match with myself trying to get the damn things off and on in a bathroom stall…again thankful to Kegels)!

God: For allowing me to be a mom/woman/warrior who’s boobs may sag a little and butt may jiggle a little, but for giving me a body that can give birth to a human being and still be able to sneeze without peeing down my legs. And thank God for creating other women who come up with brilliant inventions like Spanx, or nipple covers. And mostly, thank God for the gift of laughter and humor!

Have a most fabulous Thanksgiving!

When my Grandma passed away in 2004, all three of her daughters, and myself, being the eldest granddaughter, knew exactly what she wanted for her and her memorial when she was gone. She was not afraid of death, and talked openly on several occasions about what she wanted to be done at that time. We all knew that she wanted to be cremated. She would joke that there’s no way in hell that she’d want to have an open casket, where all these people could stare at some fat, dead old lady (her exact words)! She didn’t want people crying and being sad- she wanted to go out with a bang- “have a party for me”, she said! So, we did exactly that- we had a sweet memorial service- mostly lighthearted, a few jokes were even made, most stories were loving and wonderful memories of the amazing woman she was. Sure, there were tears, but few in comparison to the smiles and laughter at stories that were being shared, and songs that were sung. We had the party catered by my Grandma’s favorite chinese food restaurant, and it was a beautiful day that I know she appreciated, as did all of us.

Grandma Pat

So, in keeping with my Grandma’s tradition, I want my loved ones to have the piece of mind to know what my wishes are for myself, when that day comes- and hopefully it’s 50-60 years from now, but so that they all know- here it is: I do know that I want to be cremated. Caskets, vaults, cemetarty plots- all that jazz is so expensive! And for what? It’s not like a hot pair of Christian Louboutin heels that make you look 10 lbs. thinner, and your legs 6″ longer- it’s a box for crying out loud! A box to go in the ground, and have dirt cover it- not fun, not sassy, not at all something that leaves a legacy that describes me. So, folks and friends- save the money that would be spent on all that, and this is what I want instead: Take “me”, meaning my ashes and the mason jar, ziploc bag, urn, or whatever they’re contained in, and book a cruise to the Carribbean! Pack “me” in your suitcase (I’ll try not to spill out on your underwear, or toothbrush- I promise), and board ship! Some of my best times have been on cruises with my family, the Husband and my kids- so this would be perfect! Wait until the ship is out past Cozumel (I do not want to R.I.P. in Mexico, for sure!), then right before you pull into port in the Cayman Islands, on that night, around midnight, stand at the top of the ship (where the topless optional sundeck is, on the 12th deck- I know all about that, but that’s a whole ‘nother story), and on the count of three, after a champagne toast- “WOOSH”! Just throw the whole thing overboard! No “scattering” necessary- the other guests would probably not appreciate my kind of “confetti”! Then I can rest in peace in one of my favorite locations in the world, and my loved ones can go back to karaoke on the Lido deck, and think about me and how fabulous I am for saving them $4,000 on a casket and plot and funeral, and just talk all about how funny I was, how I loved to sing and dance, and vacation with my family. That would be the perfect memorial for me! So- don’t say I didn’t tell you! It’s all here in black and white- no excuses! I’m making it known that if I end up at some funeral parlor, a dead, fat old lady in a box with people crying and staring at me- you had better believe I WILL haunt your ass!

Flirty Girl Fitness

It honestly took me fifteen minutes to stop laughing after doing the “Flirty Girl Fitness” DVD. It was very fun, hilarious, actually- unless you really are a stripper, then I’m sure this is all old hat to you! As for me, I am a novice to the strip-tease world, the hip-hop-booty-shaking world, and generally the dance world, other than my reigning favorite form of exercise: bellydancing.

"The Pussycat"...with attitude...she told me to!

Now, one would think that a bellydancer would easily pick up these moves being thrown out by the “Flirty Girls”, but no. I didn’t. At all. The first DVD, called “Booty Beat” (try to contain yourself, here), is a fun, heart- pumping dance routine. If you’re 5′10″, hair down to your waist, a 34D, size 2, perfect abs and tan, like all of the “Flirty Girls” are, then these moves look super duper sassy and hot! However, if you’re like me, and have at least 10 lbs. to lose, and this is your first intro to moves like “the Booty Bump”, “the Pussycat”, and the “Spank”, you might at first feel a little silly doing all of these moves. God knows I did! But, as ridiculous as I felt, I found myself laughing and smiling the whole time- which is a great bonus to just sweaty, plain ol’ cardio. The only downside to any “pole-dancing-stripper-routine” DVD is that you can’t do it while you’re kids are around. The last thing I need is my Daughter doing “the Bootie Bump”, or my Son trying to copy “the Party Girl”! So- if you go for it, do it while the kids are napping or at school- as for me, I’m not doing it in front of anyone but the cat until I have some of these moves mastered!

"Hip Thrusts"...I can do that!

"The Party Girl"

After I finished the “Booty Beat” DVD, I was feeling all sexy and empowered, and I thought I would move onto the “Chair Dance” DVD. Be forewarned here, friends- do not attempt the chair routine until you have mastered the art of being stripperrific, are super flexible, and can feel really sexy doing some seriously crazy-slutty moves! Do not do as I did, and skip straight to the chair routine- get the first one down for a few days, then move on. Learn from my mistake….

So, I put on the chair DVD, and the skinny, tan, flat-as-a-board abs, perfectly endowed instructor purrs, “You’ll never look at your kitchen chair the same…” Allow that to be a warning, Ladies! So, I continue on with the DVD, “walk unassumingly around the chair, sit with your back arched…” So far so good. “Do a sexy stretch….” I can do that alright…”Stand up to the side of the chair, kick your left leg over the back of the chair, straddle, and sit”….I’m a dancer, right? So, I just follow along….except, I realize midway through kicking my left leg up and over the back of the chair, that it was not going to clear the top of the back of the chair. So, not only did I topple over the back of the chair, I lost my balance, landed on the now upside-down chair on my hip, and have a huge bruise on my ass to show for it. Notice, there are no pictures of the “Chair Dance” workout…nor will there be. The “Chair Dance” is intended to be somewhat of an ab/core workout, but mostly for you to learn the art of  chair dancing, in order to show it to your significant other. I wouldn’t dream of making such an ass out of myself in front of the Husband, until I am a Master Chairdancer! Then, I can graduate, and move up the ranks to “Poledancer”.

The 10-foot Pole...Seriously

 It’s then and only then, I will graduate from bashing myself on an overturned chair, to breaking my neck trying to climb upsidedown on a pole in my living room…..Stay tuned!

The End!

I have never questioned my parenting skills more than I have today- from the minute she woke up this morning, she has been wreaking havoc on me, her brother, and the house. I feel like such an ass for thinking this way, and I try to tell myself that I am very fortunate to have my healthy, strong-willed daughter, when there are parents who have children with cancer, or have lost kids, and would give their life to have just one more second with their child. But, all that only goes so far- when I have a five year old screaming , “I hate you, you stupid butt-head jerk!” to my face. Other than the very non-P.C. reaction of smacking her accross the room (which I would never do, but have certainly been tempted), I try to take her by the hand and put her in time-out, at which time whe slams the door, and screams it again! At this time, rather than reach for either a Xanax, a wooden spoon, a bottle of wine, or a combination of all three, I decided to take a deep breath, and do some research.

My mom told me about a book that she read when she was a young mother dealing with a very strong-willed, disobedient, mouthy child (certainly one of my siblings), called “the Strong-Willed Child”. So, I looked it up, and found that there is a new edition, so it is now called The New Strong-Willed Child.Perhaps, since thirty years has passed since my mom read it, children have become even mouthier, and parents aren’t allowed to make them eat soap or spank them with wooden spoons without getting a visit from CPS- so a new version had to be written to guide the newer parents with less options and brattier, less disciplined kids- that’s my theory!

One of the first sentences that I came accross grabbed me, “You should not blame yourself for the temperament with which your child was born. She is simply a tough kid to handle, and your task is to match her stride for stride.” Wow….wish I would have taken that advice three years ago! I blame myself about five hundred times a day for her saying bad words, being so angry, hitting her brother…I constantly ask myself questions, trying to find the rationale like, “Maybe it’s because I didn’t make her oatmeal like she wanted this morning, and I took a shortcut and gave her a cereal bar- that is why she is so angry and resentful and says “I hate you!” I am a shitty mom, and I need to take more time for my children’s needs.”

Dobson went on to say, ” I am convinced that there is no other true source of confidence in parenting. There is not enough knowledge in the books, mine or anyone else’s, to counteract the evil that surrounds our kids today. We must bathe them in fervent prayer when we are in our prayer closet, saying words similar to these…” The good doctor goes on to write a beautiful prayer for parents to pray for their children.

I am left in bewilderment- first of all- I don’t have a “prayer closet”- do you? Maybe that’s the problem- I have a bathroom that my kids barge into all the time while I’m peeing, and mid-stream, I yell at them “close the door, I’m peeing! It can wait ’til I get out!” and then try to commence streamage. Not quite a sanctuary…but a “prayer closet” is a grand idea! That way, when my strong-willed child acts up, calls her brother a jackass, or screams “I hate you” at me, I can just go in my prayer closet (fully stocked of course with earphones, a scented candle, a bottle of wine, a wine-opener, a glass, some chocolate), and pray for the will of my profanity-screaming, shoe-throwing daughter to not be so strong, while I listen to Led Zeppelin, and tell God how thankful I am for creating the man (or woman?) that invented the fermenting of fruit to make alcohol, oh, and of course, for the health of my children and my family…then I would emerge a new woman, ready to face my strong-willed child! Brilliant idea- the prayer closet- I’m writing the Husband a note right now: “pick up deadbolt for my new prayer closet….doctor’s orders.”