Tuesday, January 26, 2010

I just had gallbladder surgery and have 3 inch long scars on my stomach to prove it. Fortunately, my bikini wearing days ended at the same age it was not longer cute to have fat thighs- at about 4. Having the scars really didn't bother me until I saw a picture of octo-mom in a bikini with her assertion that she has not had plastic surgery. I am also the sole owner of the Brooklyn Bridge and have a certificate of sale if anyone is interested. Does anyone really care anymore about who has had plastic surgery and who hasn't? Maybe its just me, but I don't get what the big deal is. I think that it would be worse to have surgery and not have people notice. Isn't that the point? And in a moment of honesty, I will share this: if I ever am on the cover of People magazine in a bikini then I have had lots of plastic surgery. Anything else would just be cruel.

Sunday, January 10, 2010

It is already 10 days into the new year, and I have not finished my new year's resolutions. Since I have also been dying to write a year in review, I will take the lazy way out and combine the two.

(1) Don't be an ass (run away from your kids) like Jon Gosselin. Maybe I'm being a bit harsh, but moving 4 hours away from your 8 kids and into a small apartment in Manhattan will not get you the father-of-the-year award. His shoulder-shrugging, sullen demeanor from Jon and Kate Plus 8 was boring. Even Ed Hardy T-shirts, globe-trotting, and 20 something party girls can't make this guy interesting. Therefore, I resolve to embrace my boring-ness and NOT run away with a 21 year old stud muffin to New York and party like a rock star.

(2) Don't pull a stupid stunt involving your children to get your own reality TV show like balloon boy's dad. He is a bad actor and and apparently didn't know that a 6-year-old is a terrible liar and will spill the beans. He made national news, but most of us, including myself, don't even know his name. Most parents have no interest in starring in a reality TV show, so the world can watch us turn into a bigger train wreck than we already are. If my family starred in a reality TV show, the same thirty minutes of me saying "pick up your socks" to 1 husband, 2 kids and 3 dogs would get old really fast. [sidebar: the dogs don't have socks, but they get scolded under the "You touched it last" mommy/referee call.] Therefore, I resolve to graciously decline offers for my family to star in a reality TV show.

(3) Don't have 14 children when you can't take care of them like the Octo-m0m. I have become very enamored with the phrase 'hot mess.' My children use it whenever possible, and I feel cool and trendy when I can find an opportunity to say it. 'Hot Mess' is a lifetime description for the octo-mom. Check out urbandictionary.com if you don't have teenagers to translate for you. You don't even have to have children to know that this woman is certifiable. Therefore, I resolve to not be a 'hot mess.'

(4) Don't stop taking care of yourself. Michael Jackson died this year. Yes, it is senseless that a man who was so young and had so much talent would die. But what I found so surprising is everyone seemed to forgive and forget what was at the very least, an unhealthy fixation with young boys. And lets not forget dangling baby Blanket over the balcony. Personally, I think naming a child blanket should be unpardonable. Apparently, people only remember the good things when you die. I plan on using this to my advantage. I've told my children that when I die a want to be cremated and have a formal memorial service with a carefully edited eulogy and fabulous singing with all the old classics (think 'How Great Thou Art'), then when all the people who think they like me but don't really know the depths of my depravity leave, I want the kids to have a FUNeral (pronounced fun er all) with those in the know, my friend margarita, and her sidekicks chips and salsa. It will be a small intimate party. There will be a lot of laughing at my expense, but I promise not to care. Therefore, I resolve to take better care of myself for the next 8 years, so that my youngest Em, who is now 13, can legally attend the FUNeral.

That's the parenting year in review. After reading my blog entries from last year, I would also like to give you all an update regarding some of my entries. The family room floor is finished and looks fabulous. I also finished 'Twilight.' Everyone is right, the last 100 pages go by quickly. N the 17 year old summed up the appeal of 'Twilight' in one word "Hormones!" I'm still processing that comment. I'm looking forward to writing more this year. I predict that 2010 will be a a writer's gold mine, and I resolve to continue my blog. Finally, a big "Thank you" to all my friends and family for their feedback and support. Happy New Year!