Hot Dogs and Hampers

This weekend I watched a movie that took place in the 50’s. The movie left me contemplating how the role of the Lady of the House has changed over the years.  In the 50’s most women did not work outside of the home.  They spent their days caring for their family and their dwelling.  They made careers out of gardening, ironing, and meat loafing.  They were there to make their hard working husbands a high ball after work and help their children with homework.  Then one day- someone had a brilliant idea that women too should be working outside the home- expanding their skills and contributing financially to their families.  Genius! 

But what happened to the ironing? The homework? The meatloaf?  Did the need for such domestics dissolve?  No- the need is still very much there.  The need stares me in the face from the over flowing laundry hamper.  The need wakes me up at 6 am on Sunday’s expecting Cheerios and snuggles.  The need suggests I try a new recipe tonight when I am done watering the plants. 

I take my role as Lady of the House very seriously.  I try daily to do a little something for the better of my family but after 40 hours at the office sometimes the best thing I can muster for my family is to allow them to live another day.  But I am WOMAN- I am strong, I am multi-tasker capable of taking care of the world, and the house and the never ending laundry pile…right?  That is how I should feel and yet most days I just feel tired. 

Am I turning my back on the generations of women who fought so that I too could go to an office everyday and bust my hump and then go home and play June Cleaver- if I throw in the towel?  Am I less of a woman if I feel that I would be fully satisfied as a 1950’s housewife? 

Being the Mom I want to be…the woman I want to be for my man takes a lot of time.  It takes a lot of work and often I don’t have the time or the energy after a 40 hour work week.  The type of mother I want to be does not feed my son hot dogs for dinner three times a week but makes him nutritionally balanced meals from the heart.  The type of mother I want to be does not tell her son that she is too tired to go for a bike ride because she has been dreaming of putting her feet on the coffee table for hours.  The type of partner I want to be, that I know I have in me does not have to send her Hubby to work wearing miss- matched socks but instead would like to send him to work with a packed lunch.  Even typing this I know how I must sound to many women out there?  Seriously? Satisfied with the old, traditional housewife life?  Yes, yes I think I might be. 

To those of you that are thinking that I am underestimating the work entailed and the commitment it takes to be a self proclaimed domestic goddess are wrong.  I am a hard worker- I always have been and I am not looking for an excuse to eat Bon Bons and watch The Young and the Restless.  That is what weekends and DVR are for.  I just feel that I am not a star performer in the role of Lady of the House at the moment.  I am not performing to my fullest potential and that leaves me feeling like I am failing my family-one micro-waved hot dog at a time!  

What are your thoughts on my dreams of domestic conquests?

Lessons in Love from Smug and In Love

I read a quote today- it said ”Every woman deserves a man that makes her forget that her heart was ever broken.”  It was an ironic time to have read the quote as last night a few girlfriends and myself spent much of the evening consoling a friend who was recently broken hearted.  After the girls left, I looked at Mr. Not So New and once again felt an overwhelming love and gratitude for having him in my life.  It wasn’t always so easy.  I was once the one being consoled; the one with the broken heart.  The one who thought true love was not in my deck of cards.  And now, now that I have it-it seems so distant; the hurt, the sleepless nights, the puffy eyes, the feeling of hopelessness. 
At times having been there- in the broken heart-ed’s uncomfortable shoes I know how there is nothing anyone- especially the smug and in love friend can say.  But being the smug and n love friend that once was the broken hearted I have so much to say.  Since I cannot say it in the heat of the somber moment I will say it now.
For the most part relationships should be easy.  Sure there are adjustments to make.  Joining two lives together takes time to get used to.  Division of labor needs to be worked out, finances come into play etc.  But once you figure that out it should be smooth sailing.  I am not saying that you won’t get under each other’s skin but if what annoys you about the person comes even close in comparison to what you love about the person than you are wasting your time with the wrong someone. 
I have been in relationships where I have been loved more than I did love and I have been in relationships where I loved more than I was loved.  In both cases, you know.  Listen to your inner self she may be the only person being honest with you.
Timing is extremely important.  Mr. Not So New is so amazing that I often wonder why anyone before me let him slip away.  Being that we found each other at nearly thirty we both had been through our fair share of relationships.  We both learned a lot about love.  What to do, what not to do.  Who we are, and who we are not.  The Mr. Not So New of this relationship is a different person than relationships of his past. Had we met even a year prior ( we did know each other but not well), we would not be the same people and maybe we would not be as we are today.  I truly believe that timing is a key factor in love.  
Communication is crucial.  I see people all the time talking to their friends, family, and therapists about their unhappy relationships.  Are they talking to the other half if their relationship?  I believe that is the first person that should be hearing of troubles.  Mr. New and I talk about everything that bothers us.  Sometimes we need to talk about it over and over to really make the other person hear that it is important to us.  We may not understand it but once we understand that it is important or bothersome to the other we accept it as that and do what we can to accommodate. 
Another misconception that I too, with a bleeding heart once believed was that there were no good men left, and if there were they certainly were not dwelling in Vermont.  Well ladies, I proved myself wrong on that one and I am sure that I did not snag the last one. 
When Mr. Not So New was still Mr. New, I blogged about wanting to keep the new-ness alive. I wrote about the butterflies and the excitement that encompasses falling in love.  I had a lot of nay-sayers that said it would fade and the butterflies would go away.  Well I am proud to report that just over a year into the relationship, having lived together now since June (yes we moved quickly) my tummy has more butterflies than ever.  They were right about one thing though- it does not feel new.  It feels even better.  

Officer Cry Baby

Recently for my real job- I call it my real job because I have many imaginary ones. For example I am a star of the Real Housewives of Rutland County reality show, I am Tom Brady’s personal masseuse and of course a famous writer. Any way as I began- as an obligation to the job that is not only in existence in my head, I attended a meeting based on hiring the men and women that are returning from active duty in our Armed Forces. Let me preface this piece with my utter humbleness and pride that I hold for such Americans that have a selfless gene that I have not. Secondly, I agreed with each presenter that spoke and full heartedly believe that these returning soldiers deserve the support of the citizens that they put their lives in danger to protect and serve.


Having said that I can go back to being me. In high school partially due to the fact that I have a unisex name, I would constantly be hounded by Army recruiters- by phone, and by mail. To those of you that know me, I am sure that at least a little of the corner of your lip turned up at the thought of me…in the Army. For those of you that don’t know me, I am sure the above sentence about my dream job as a filmed housewife might give you a bit of an inclination as to my pastimes and character, neither of which there is much room for in the Army.

I picture Goldie Hawn in Private Benjamin. I cannot handle being yelled at. I cry. In fact, I cry when I am doing laundry and I have run out of dryer sheets, I cry when my favorite girl does not receive a rose at the rose ceremony on an episode of the Bachelor, I cry e-v-e-r-y time I watch The Notebook, The Lion King and the episode of King of Queens when Carrie loses the baby. Can you imagine how I would handle some big man up in my face, spit-screaming at me because I am not much of a morning person or because I simply asked where the Sauvignon Blanc was in the mess hall?

I am pretty fit; I can do yoga in a 100 degree room. I have done fitness boot camps and I am no stranger to the treadmill but Army boot camp seems a bit extreme for me. I have never signed up for an early morning exercise class. I like to get my work outs done right after work so that immediately after I can reward myself with a glass of wine. Also, none of the exercises that I participate in have involved my need for a gas mask and or removal of leaches from my body post work out. Sometimes I even count just putting work out gear on and sitting on the couch as a good enough attempt. Not sure doing the same with my fatigues would be acceptable.

Speaking of fatigues…where do I even begin. Although thanks to the Kardashians the one piece jumpsuits are in this year, I have yet to see any that are head to toe camouflage. I prefer less thick material to show the curves I have worked so hard to get. I have never seen a flattering Army uniform, and what is with the slicked back bun or braid? This is simply a look that cannot be pulled off. Oh, I forgot to mention that I cry when I am feeling unattractive. Waking up every morning to the one piece brown and green canvas jumpsuit and slicked back bun would have me crying a river before sun up daily.

Folks, we haven’t even left boot camp let alone combat. Just the word combat frightens me- it sounds like a poisonous snake. What we have learned here is that the returning troops need our support and need jobs. Overall they make strong candidates for most positions in most fields as they possess leadership, courage, determination, commitment, and perseverance. Many of them are young in age but have life experiences well beyond their years. These men and women fought for us and we need to help fight for them… What we also learned is that the military is not for everyone and I did my part in protecting our country by staying as far from the battle ground as possible!

Drumroll Please

 It is the moment that we have all been waiting for.  The moment in which my dedication and motivation is put to the test.  The moment in which Beth the Deaths coaching and training skills are measured quite literally as is the circumference of my ass.  In the beginning of the week I confessed to BTD that I was not too hopeful for results.  I have been feeling down about my appearance.  I haven't had my roots done in about a month too long, my wardrobe is atrocious and I was tagged on facebook in a pic of myself that oh so clearly displayed my second chin.  You know the feeling. 
But none the less, I had vowed to allow you all to measure my success or lack there of and unlike my vow to reduce the wine intake- this one I will stick to.  But not quite yet.
This week Beth really pushed me.  She had me crawling, kettle-belling, and climbing stairs.  I did notice that with the increase of my water intake I felt more powerful in my work outs.  I hate to us the word easier because BTD is reading this and she will take note, but they really did feel a bit easier when better hydrated.  Not easy by any means, but a bit more doable.  I was only tempted to throw a kettle bell at her flat stomach three times as opposed to a dozen or so usually.  See- I do have will power! 
Anyway, Beth decided to do the measurements after kicking my Kardashian for an hour.  I felt like the contestants on the Biggest Loser- having my last chance workout.  While squatting my way to slim Beth convinced me to join her for a week of Bikram yoga.  If you don't know what that is let me explain.  It is a series of 26 (I think) yoga poses , over a 90 minute session in a room that is kept at a constant 105 degrees.  Now, I have always enjoyed yoga.  Not like weirdly- I don't say Ohhhhhhhmm and I still enjoy a slab of dead animal on my plate every night but I have enjoyed the benefits of yoga in the past.  It feels great, it gives the mind a break- and with the shit that runs through my mind- it needs a break!  I can truly say that I am looking forward to my first Bikram class today at noon.  I won' t lie a huge factor in my looking forward to it is that I am hoping that it jump starts my weight loss goal.  I take Jennifer Anniston as an example.  When Jennifer was on the series Friends she had a body more like mine.  Ample chest, small waist and a but you could rest your coffee cup on.  She looked great-however fifteen years later- she looks even better and attributes her new shape to yoga.  It literally changed her shape.  I have accepted that I am an hour glass shape however if given the choice I would love to be longer and leaner and more like the Jennifer of the romantic comedies than the Jennifer of Friends.  And, if yoga in a man made desert is gonna help get me there- sign me up!
OK, I will stop stalling.  I will get to the point of this rant.  The results...Well they didn't start out as wonderfully as I had hoped.  I only lost one lb.  When I looked at the number on the scale I immediately had visions of myself in a one piece- with a sarong and a snickers..not the vision I was hoping for.  When I texted Beth the results she remained positive- reminded me that muscle weighs more than fat blah, blah, blah.  But low and behold she was right.  I lost a half inch on each bicep, a quarter inch on each thigh.  I lost a half inch around my waist and nothing on my ass which just goes to show that I have been right this whole time! I am the other Kardashian sister. 
So the results were not as thrilling as they are on the Biggest Loser but they are none the less successful results.  I am hoping that with the addition of the sweat lodge and maybe adding a bit more cardio to my routine I am on my way to the goal of 10 lbs that I am hoping for.  And maybe, just maybe my after shot will be in a bikini :-)

Bluntness and Body Image

My friends and I are how you say…blunt. Sometimes the level of our bluntness gets us in trouble…with each other. Recently, my blunt friend- we will call Red approached me about something she had on her mind. She asked me if I was at all concerned that my blog might offend people. She was concerned that there might be overweight people out there reading my blog and cussing me for being a skinny bitch that calls herself fat. I pondered. And then I reminded her that my blog is not mandatory reading, and that if it offends anyone they can simply stop reading.


The truth is I do have body image issues…another point Red felt the need to make. I realize that I am not fat...but I do pick myself apart…a lot. Like when I compare myself to fat Jessica Simpson or my derriere to Kim K’s. I think most women put themselves down, and how can we not with images of perfect women thrown in our faces all the time. I can’t watch a Victoria’s Secret commercial with my boyfriend without thinking that he is thinking that he wishes I looked like that. I cannot picture myself having a good time on a tropical beach with the one that I love unless I have lost 10 pounds prior to the trip. I have always had these negative thoughts about my appearance and I probably always will.

After admitting that it seems like a lie when I say that I also have a pretty good self image…let me explain. There are a lot of things about my appearance that I do like. I can’t walk through the Walmart parking lot without getting a whistle. I think I’m a pretty girl. I have really straight teeth and cute feet. My eyes are an unusual blue green and I have even grown to like my upturned nose. So shoot me if I don’t like my saddlebags or wish my stomach was tighter. I want to be in the best shape that I can be. And as far as offending people, it is never my goal- and never really a concern. I cannot make people feel a certain way- I don’t have that kind of control. What I can do is be open, honest and entertaining. I think a lot of women out there can sympathize with my struggle for perfection. I am not saying that it is a healthy way to view oneself. I am saying that this is how I feel, and I think how a lot of us feel. And if comparing myself to celebrities that are a bit larger than the norm in the celebrity world helps push me to exercise than so be it. Putting oneself down-not healthy, exercising regularly-healthy. So what if I need to do one to do the other. It works for me.

I think after explaining this to Red she understood. She also sent me flowers because she is one blunt and fabulous friend. She is also a skinny bitch that has never had to work out a day in her life and has never been over a size 2. To be blunt- sometimes I want to shoot the bitch.

Updates- Actually modeling for a photo shoot on Saturday to help a friend build his portfolio- I have insisted that he refer to me as Gisele from here on out. I have begun to pretend that I am a supermodel in preparation for the shoot. Can someone please bring me some sparkling water, like yesterday???

Also Beth the Death (BTD) is taking my measurements on Thursday…wish her-I mean me luck!!!

While She was Gone

Beth is back. I didn’t have good news for her when she arrived at my door- kettle bell in hand. I wanted to tell her that I did everything she told me to do- I wanted to tell her that I have given up wine and had fallen in love with exercise. I wanted to tell her that I didn’t eat any Halloween candy and that I said no to pasta…Here is what I did tell her


Ummmm….I didn’t get a chance to exercise. I had a little bit more water than normal and a little less wine…yesterday I had skittles for breakfast. And if you don’t come to my house and force me to work out- it’s not gonna happen.

At least she has job security. She also has a sick obsession with squats. Especially squat thrusts. No, this is not some exciting new sexual position only to be found in Cosmo magazine. This is a mix between a squat, a plank and a backwards jump. Having trouble picturing it? Try doing it! Not only do I look ridiculous in the yard squat thrusting my way to physical perfection, but I choose to be doing this as my boyfriend’s employees are parking the trucks in the driveway for the night. I can only imagine what they must be thinking as I am swearing- ass up in the air with Beth the Death encouraging me by saying “Black Bikini”, and “Bye bye Oprah arms”. What must be running through the minds of these plumbers walking by, trying not to laugh at my awkward position?

I cannot tell you what is running through their minds but I can tell you what is running through mine… This bitch is crazy. If I don’t look like Daisy Duke by January I am going to kill her. Who does this anyway? I feel like I am on Biggest Loser right now! If she goes in my house and opens my fridge and confiscates my wine there will be bloodshed. Wine…do I have any? At my next break I should put it in the freezer because after these squat thrusts I am going to need a refreshingly cold beverage. Is it time to stretch yet?

Here is what I can only imagine is going through Beth’s mind.

If this girl thinks she can joke her way to fit she has another thing coming. She better get serious because I am tracking her progress for my website. Maybe I should confiscate her wine.

Luckily, BTD is giving me until next Thursday to do my measurements and report my progress. As I was working on my arms she did say that she recognized that I had some definition that wasn’t there before. Yeah! And I can say one thing for sure- my exercise routine has out lasted Kim Kardashian’s marriage! That in itself is success in my book!

Walloping Asses and Will Power

Cardio is my nemesis. I hate it. I hate it as much as I hate water, and will power and Tyra Banks. But I know it is necessary. You know why it is necessary? Because as I was jogging around the yard with a resistance band held out in front of me, making me look like some exercise crazed Zombie, my ass was walloping. That is the only word I can think of. It was like it was its own creature and I created a voice for it. My ass’s voice sounds like James Earl Jones on Quaaludes. It says to me “keeeep woooorking at it Blondie!” Beth and I have decided that the smaller my ass gets the higher its voice will get. I won’t be content until my ass sounds like Justin Bieber.... And Beth is happy to make me squat my way to a high pitched ass.


Beth also confronted me about my lack of water intake. Apparently ice in my wine is not enough, especially when working out with Jillian Michaels more feminine twin twice a week. It was a tough sell- first she promised me better agility…blah blah blah, more stamina…who cares. Then, she reminded me that it will help me lose weight faster-enter ass that can sing like the Biebs. Now you’re talking Beth the Death. Now you’re speaking my language.

Next week I am left to my own devices. Next week my will power will be tested- it has never passed a single test in all 30 years that I have been hiding it under my bed. That means I am going to need a lot of support, praise and encouragement from y’all (I sometimes pretend to be southern). I do not see Beth until November 1st and I want to make her proud. I will drink my water- I am actually doing that right now, ugh! And I will work out on my own. Not tomorrow night, tomorrow night is Friday and working out on Friday night is against my morale beliefs. I will however do a Cardio DVD Saturday and try and convince my boyfriend and son to go for a hike on Sunday. I will also wear cute work out gear all weekend and put my hair extensions in and pretend that my Real Housewives of Beverly Hills look is effortless and normal for a weekend around the house. Oh yeah and I will keep y’all informed of my progress, ya hear?