Happy Birthday to me...a little late

I remembered this weekend that I forgot to post about my upcoming birthday. Being the attention whore that I am I'm typically right on it - even posting weeks before to ensure I get a little extra birthday love.

But this year that changed. The hubby took me out for a fantastic dinner and then for some booty shakin and a little gambling but prior to that I wasn't all spastically making plans and shouting from rooftops "GET ME, BUY ME...I REALLY NEED. I WANNA GO HERE, WE GOTTA HAVE A BIG PARTY ..."

In fact on my actual birthday I spent much of the day recovering relaxing and twas a beautiful thing.

Could it be, that I'm just getting old ?

Lawd help me say it ain't so.

Anyhoo, happy birthday to me one day late. I'm officially 38.

This was bound to happen...

It was but a matter of time before I dove head first off the deep end. I knew it, you knew it - lets not even pretend we didn't.

I tried to resist but then I just snapped and now sane to me is getting up three days a week at 4:40 a.m. and going to fitness boot camp.
From 5:30a.m. to 6:30a.m. on these days I drag my jiggly (but soon to be quarter-bouncable) ass out of bed, throw on my yoga pants - which have become one of my new favorite items in my wardrobe - and go work out. Hard. Inorite? In a world of peep toe heels and slouchy boots I'm getting all giddy about my yoga pants and Asics tenees *sigh*. Then after an hour of being pushed to my max and sweating like a whore in church I head to work. (Truthfully, while I feel great once I'm done that is the only part of this adventure in which I actually feel great)

As if that wasn't enough, I thought it would be completely mentally sound to volunteer to chair the annual Dad's spaghetti dinner for 500 little elementary school children and their parents. Yeehaw! (And yes I know I'm not a Dad. Thanks smartasses) This is of course in addition to working and mom-ing and trying to have some semblance of me time.

I'm not sure what's come over me. I'm considering going to a doctor because this has got to be a sickness of some sort.

I mean I couldn't actually be getting it together and becoming like an overacheiver.

Bwahaahaha!!

I know I couldn't keep a straight face when saying that and I'm damn sure you laughed when reading it.

Me overacheiving? This is clearly just a momentary lapse. Surely,I'll be back to my wine guzzling,couch-loving,fried-food eating,trash-tv watching self in no time

Another cruise ship claims a victim (no,not that kind)

Fanflabbertyjabbintastic, I say. Fanflabbertyjabbintastic !

From the instant my freshly polished toes stepped on the ground in Miami I knew I'd have a great time. The flight was longer than War and Peace and I don't fly well now that I'm of an advanced age but I was too excited to let that get me down. Hell, I'd just left 50 something degree weather for 80 something weather. That alone would have made my week. But it got better. Much better.

Simply entering the ship was wild. The NCL (Norwegian Cruise Lines) folks were dancing and carrying on as they welcomed us onboard. Cheesy yes, but we were headed to the Bahamas. I kinda wanted to do a bit of a jig myself.

Once on the boat we were told we could go grab lunch or drinks and hang out on deck (or any of the public areas) while our staterooms were being prepared. I'm sure you can guess what we did.



The deck quickly turned into one big old party (pic taken before said party because hey how could I enjoy the party if I was busy snapping pictures, gah!)

Bands were playing, people were sunbathing, dancing, swimming, getting nekkid. Wait, what? Anyway, you get the gist, the first day was one big old partay. It was also where I obtained the coveted fun meter:


I obtained this from some drunk self-proclaimed barflys that were already 3 sheets to the wind when we arrived.

Watching the ship set sail was surreal. I can't tell you how long I've actually wanted to take a cruise and at that moment when it was finally happening I shed a tear knocked back several shots to celebrate. (Ok none of that sentence was true but I did get all giddy like a kid the morning of Christmas.)

The day turned in to a long night where we met a younger couple we completely fell in love with and had an impromptu party on the deck after hours. The piece de resistance of said party was 85 year old Elaine who I was convinced was at any time going to pull the whole Scooby Doo ending thing and pull off her mask to reveal a 21 year old woman. That broad danced her ass off asking me many a time "C'mon girl, how low can you go?" as she was getting down low herself. When we finally,at 2:30 a.m. decided we'd partied enough, she said "Wait don't go, lets party some more , lets tell some jokes or stories or something". Man I loved her.

The next day we docked in Grand Bahama Island where we found everyone to be so laid back we almost called my mom and asked her to ship the kids to us because we'd decided to sell it all and take up residence on the island. We fantasized about chillin and proudly saying "I ain't got no job" as we watched our half nekkid babies run around and play in the sun. Aah..

Wait where was I...Oh yes: Grand Bahama Island. There we chilled with two multi talented dolpins who showed us how to moonwalk, spit water at us, jumped,frolicked and requested belly rubs. I was half tempted to pack one of those suckers in my suitcase they were so cute.

The remaining time was filled with comedy shows, dancing, parties, drinks, R rated game shows (in which my husband had to dirty dance with another dude on our team and dammit why didn't I have my video camera ready), sunning, shopping and exploring in Nassau, casino'ing,hot tubbing eating, eating and more eating.

I'm pretty sure I ate twice my weight in food. But good lord it was "free" (included in cruise price) and always around. And I...I have no self discipline.

So there you have it. Everyone we encountered was so nice I wanted to put them all in my pocket and bring them home with me - cruise staff and passengers alike.

My one complaint is not really even a complaint about the ship so much as it is a complaint about our complete and total disregard for the money we were spending on extras (read alcohol and anything other than water). Our room key doubled as our payment for those extras and even though we were given receipts each time we signed for something we paid little attention. Aannd eleventy bajillion dollars later...I'm happy, a little chubbier and excitedly planning another cruise for 2012.

And y'all this ship is Epic. (um that will be funnier to you when you click the link.)

I declare myself officially obsessed.

I'm on a Boat (well... almost)

For those of you that don't get that reference see (and note that I uploaded the "clean" version because I'm thoughtful like that):



In just a few days, I will get to take full advantage of that awesome suprise I bestowed upon my husband a few months back.

I am positively, absolutely, ridiculously 100% excited to the point where it's been hard to focus on much else.

My life, of late has been work and second grade math and I don't know which is worse. There's this whole strategy of ten thing that the twins are learning that is giving me nightmares. Oh and my mouth, or teeth rather are being assholes. Which translated means that at the ripe old age of 37 I've been told "looking in to braces would be a good idea". But no I don't want to talk about it.

Because in a matter of days I'll be on a boat, kissing dolphins , 10th anniversary'ing with the Mr. and knocking back several cocktails.

And at this point not a whole hell of a lot else matters.

*and while you wait for me to get back and regale you with my tales of awesome head on over to my review blog to check my latest giveaway(6 winners y'all). Mini chickenburgers mmm...

Public Bathroom PSA. You're welcome

I'm a little frustrated. It seems that every time I walk in to the bathroom at-the-place-that-shall-not-be-named-but-I'm-there-Monday-through-Friday, I encounter behavior that leaves something to be desired.

Since I can't put out a memo, or post rules in the bathroom itself I feel compelled to write this down somewhere in hopes that those filthy buggers might see fit to change their ways.

So in no particular order:

Don't moan. I mean really I get that sometimes business is a little tough to do. But hearing someone one moan (or groan) creeps me out. I feel like shouting "Dude, it's called fiber!"

If you funk up the bathroom and air freshener is anywhere in the vicinity : USE IT. Maybe you can run away from your smell but the next person that walks in to said bathroom I'm sure would much rather be greeted by the scent of garden rain rather than assaulted by the odor of ass

Remove your pubes from the toilet seat. There is nothing worse than going into a stall and finding that little surprise.

FLUSH THE TERLIT - need I say more. I don't want to know that you need to drink more water or had corn for dinner last night (I know I even grossed myself out on that one)

and last but certainly not least

Wash your damn hands. If I even catch you leaving the bathroom without washing your hands I will stop you, ask you for your phone number and call your mother because clearly you lack home training (and yeah I went there)

Y'all got anything to add ?

Someone is laughing their a** off right now

First, please sit down. Oh and you better put your drink down too because what I have to tell you will surely send you in to a fit of laughter and we wouldn't want that Diet Coke/wine/beer coming out of your nose. Trust me it doesn't feel all that good.

Now then, just moments ago I found that someone (I have no clue who) nominated this blog for Best Parenting Blog on the 2010 Best of Western Washington deali-o. (I'm not even linking to it because I honestly think this really is someone's idea of a joke)


If you're here from there, welcome and feel free to stay awhile (note that I'm attempting to soften my use of expletives just for you) but I say that with this caveat:

This isn't really a parenting blog.

Yes, I am a parent and sometimes I write about my children but this is not that blog. If you're looking for cute and fuzzy stories about what my children did yesterday you won't find (much of) that here. This is more of a crazed rambling humor blog with a side of parenting.

For those of you who already knew that - let's just let this sink in and laugh our a**es off. Together.

P.S. Because I'm not a completely ungrateful hag: To that person who nominated me I say "thanks I think". I "blush" in your general direction.

Drag Queens, broken phones and barf oh my

I don't even know where to begin. I suppose I should start when the night was still good- at a time when I was at dinner with friends enjoying a nice glass of wine preparing to head to a club to meet up with even more friends(one of whom was in town just for the weekend and I was eager to hang with her).

At some point the bride to be, oh wait did I mention this was a bachelorette party ? It was and I suppose that gives you some clue as to how the night ended because those things never seem to end without somebody waking up wondering what the fuck they did the night before and where their pants are.

Anyway, where was I... yes. The bride-to-be imbibed so many tehkillya shots she barfed up things I'd never seen come out of a human.

But let me back up, there was the moment when I broke my phone. That was awesome. I didn't do anything spectacularly klutzy, I merely dropped it on the ground and it was dead. The screen went white and in an instant I lost all my pictures, all my numbers, er'thing. I was not happy. In fact, I'm still not happy. I've since found an activated an old phone but I'm pretty sure it was from the first run of cell phones and it's a dinosaur. It's gets me fired up thinking about it now. Because that little mishap was responsible for me missing the friend who'd come in to town. I kept missing her texts and me calling from a friend's phone... well that was just disatrous. Suckass doesn't even begin to describe how I felt about missing her.

The night wasn't completely without fun though. I hadn't been to a drag show in some time and I'd forgotten how much I enjoy them. And this one? Was like none other because one of the drag queens mimicked giving birth on stage - like with a real doll coming out of her nether regions - while lip syncing to a song called Baby Mama. And no, I'm not making this up.

How did all this madness end? My feet in severe pain because my super cute Charlotte Russe wedges are the kind of shoes that were designed to be cute and nothing else and holding back the bride's hair while she barfed at our feet.

I know.

You wish you were there don't you?

The one where I pull off the surprise of the year and pat myself on the back until it makes you sick

A while back, I posted that I needed to figure out whatever the hell I'm going to do as far as a fitness regime because later this year I will be doing something where I have to wear a swimsuit.

At that point, I didn't reveal why I'd need to wear a swimsuit so much but y'all are sharp. I'm sure you figured out that I'd be going on some kind of vacay. And if you didn't duh well that's what's up.

In just 1.5 months I will be taking my VERY FIRST CRUISE. I'm one big ball of excitement because OMGSQUEEE I'm going to the Bahamas, betches!

But here's why I couldn't say anything about this before. I, master of all that is awesome, planned this cruise months in advance and surprised my husband with it on his birthday last week.

I know, I know you want to marry me don't you ?

Hell, I'd want to marry me too if I weren't already... um nevermind.

So I'd been planning this cruise since about the beginning of the year and timed it so that we'd be chillin in the Bahamas, sipping cocktails on our 10th anniversary -all without the hubby knowing because I'm brilliant like that.

But I hadn't a clue as to how to present it to him.

I knew I wouldn't actually have the cruise documents in hand in time for his birthday so I came up with the idea to print out a copy of our confirmed reservation from the cruise site. To that I attached a picture of a cruise ship sailing amidst palm trees and wrote "Since I couldn't get you your own personal boat, this will have to do" (did I mention that hubby's trying to convince me we need a boat and that I'm kinda opposed. I didn't ? Well there isn't time for that now)

I flipped that document face side down and put it in the bottom of a gift bag so it appeared as if it were part of the bag itself. On top of that I placed individually wrapped sunscreen and a pair of sunglasses. I presented the gift during our dinner out and it worked just as I thought it would.

He liked the sunglasses,but the sunscreen kinda produced a WTFoopsimeanImgrateful look. I said nothing. For a few seconds I pretended that was it. Then I told him there might be something else in the bag. He felt around, finally pulled out the paper, looked at it and gave me the same WTFoopsImean... look. It turns out he thought I gave him a picture of a boat just to be mean (I may have the occasional mean streak but I'm not a complete beast - especially on birthdays).

"READ IT!" I exclaimed.

And then I saw his eyes light up and his confused look turn to a big goofy grin. "No way, No way, No way" he kept saying.

And I knew I'd pulled off the ultimate surprise.

Did I mention that I'm awesome ?

But how the hell I'll top this next year, which just happens to be his 40th birthday I don't know.

San Diego, it was brief but me love you long time

I'd ask if you've wondered where I've been. But I know better. I post erratically at best and that's not because I'm out of town, it's mostly because I just plain don't feel like it.
Having said that, I was out of town this past week at a work related conference in sunny (and I use that term lightly because up until the last day it was not even close to being sunny) San Diego.

I'd planned to bring the fam and do the whole Legoland, Seaworld thing but trying to plan me arriving one day and the Mr and the kids arriving another and switching hotels and blah blah blah just made me feel all barfy inside so I went by myself and for the most part enjoyed the heck out of SD. And plan to go back when it's more pleasure and less business.

Since this was a business trip I didn't pay for my flight or my hotel and that's probably why I was able to stay in this place (and please forgive me for all I brought with me for photographic mementos was my weeny ass 1.3 mp camera phone)

This would be the lobby of the US Grant






The hotel at night all lit up and purty like

Fancy right? I know. I felt as if I had to put on an evening gown just to walk through there. And lets not even talk about going down to the fitness room. I half considered purchasing some designer sportswear for the occasion. But then spending loads of cash on clothes I'm going to sweat and stink up shortly after purchasing didn't quite make the most sense. So I shamed the hotel by appearing in my old Tar-zhay shorts and jog bra.


The ceiling just above the entrance to the fitness room


Even the stairs are extravagant. This is the stairwell I had to walk up all sweatified and stanky because I didn't dare take the elevator after working out

So are you getting that this hotel was all kinds of fan-say ?


mah room

My first day was glorious. As you can see I quickly made myself comfortable in my room. I hadn't given nary a thought about the fact that upon check in I gave them my debit card for "incidentals".

Until the next day when I went online in the lobby (because in room wi-fi= 11.95/day but in lobby wifi = free. Umm ok.) to pay a bill. Upon reviewing my checking account I realized they'd seized $400. I don't know about y'all but that's a lot of moolah to me. Like San Diego souvenir and clothes shopping moolah. So I did what any normal person would do and went all postal up in that bitch approached the front desk telling them that all charges were to be charged to the corporate card that the room was reserved on.
To make a long story short, before changing the charges my boss had to speak with them and even then they held my cash until I checked out three days later (but told me they reversed it that day). Bastages! And yes I'll admit to the stupidity of giving them my card in the first place but I'm not familar with them thar luxury hotels and didn't realize that "incidentals" were 4mutherfuckinhundreddollars.

But here. See for yourself. This is the cost of "incidentals" at the US Grant.


$8 for some mutherlovin M&Ms. I will never. I repeat NEVER want M&Ms that bad

And OHGODTHESESINKS.



Trendy but NOT functional. Especially for the vertically challenged like me. We have to stand on our tip toes just to wash our faces and then this happens

Water.everywhere. *sigh*

Also, the hotel could be haunted. One night, I got in the elevator but couldn't immediately find my keycard which I needed to get to my floor. As I searched around for it, the elevator started moving and stopped on floor 3. My floor. I figured someone had called it, but when the doors opened not a soul was in sight (cue Twilight zone theme). Of course then I wondered if they had cameras in the elevator that recognized me and sent me to my floor which then made me concerned about whether or not I'd been talking to myself or pulling out wedgies when I'd ridden in there before that night.

The conference... was a conference. It had some good points: Al Gore and Ted Kennedy Jr. were keynote speakers. And some not so good points: the Tuesday night entertainment was Hall & Oates. Who frankly I dig, but something about watching the stage being rushed by my colleagues for the aging H&O made me feel...well... stabtacular.




But being in the Gaslamp Quarter made up for all that. It's a nice little slice of awesome. Some great little shops and fantastic food. Particularly this place.


And I kinda loved these signs Which if you can't read said panhandling promotes alcohol and drug abuse consider giving to charity...or something to that effect. Kinda makes you say "hmm...".

And random, but did I mention my hotel was right across the street from here?



I kept hoping I'd run into someone famous. Upon telling hubby that, he asked, What famous person hangs out at NBC? And of course I then questioned what famous person does hang out at NBC and felt rather silly. But whatevs.

It was fun.

Now I'm back. And it's like I never left.

I miss you SD. Call me.

***********

P.S. Jiffy Lube Gift card giveaway on my review blog Go. Now.

No more Pencils , No more books...

School ended for my kids last Friday and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't jumping for nine different kinds of joy.

First I shall say the requisite (and true): my kids attend a great school with excellent teachers, are really blossoming as learners and I intend to encourage that in any way I can.

*Ahem*

Now that that's out of the way.Let me say it to you all, because we're that kind of honest with each other, right?

Homework sucks!

I thought I'd been freed of nightly homework many moons ago.

Not.So. Every night from September to June, I'd sit alongside of my kids and pour through pages of homework while secretly wanting to rip my hair out (ok, so maybe some of it was mildly fun. But only when I wasn't dog tired from work which is never. And the geometry for 1st graders = sheer torture)

Many a day I prayed for the secret homework fairy (I think she's part of the calgon take me away family) to come and take over. She never did.

But now, I have 2 months of peace and while this summer won't be completely academic free it is homework free and for that I am in hog heaven.


School's out for summer, bitches!

What isn't funnier than an Alice Cooper /Muppet performance?

Outed

Oh Em Gee, I may have been outed today.

Really, I don't know if you can call it outed as there are many people in my life that know about this blog.

But then there are others (coworkers, parents and teachers at my kids school) that aren't aware of this here blog. And I intended to take my little bloggy secret to the grave.

This has been my space to be free from rules, free to say whatever I pleased, however I pleased and never the two worlds shall meet.

I suppose I was just fooling myself. Way down deep I knew the day would come...

What is all this about, you might ask ? Maybe nothing, maybe something.

You see I went to a demo today for a new parental guidance monitoring software called GoGo Stat (more on that later) and afterwards was asked by one of the media if I wouldn't mind being interviewed on camera.

Before really even thinking about what that meant , I had given my first and last name , the name of my blog and was answering questions. In an interview. On camera. For the local news.

I felt good once I was done, until I left and realized all the aforementioned people may see the interview if it makes it to the boob tube.

(And worse still... if tv adds 10lbs, how fat did I look?)

Several hours and some measured breathing later, I've decided: I.just.don't.care.

This is me. Like it. Hate it. It's me. I'm a parent and I'm not perfect and I have an online space where I share stories about myself and my children which (gasp) are sometimes raw and dotted with curses, sometimes ridiculous and downright silly. But they're real and they're honest. So screw it.

If I'm outed. I'm outed





There are far worse things I could be doing.

At what Point do I say I've crashed and burned ?

Remember this plan ?

I knew that it was nuts when I originally thought of it; but I wanted to believe in myself. I wanted to believe I could change.

Today, however, I've come to the realization that there are some things that can't just shouldn't be changed (my desire to sleep as long as I can is high atop that list).

That said, there's this part of me ,my inner cheerleader, that refuses to accept defeat and continually tells me " Don't give up just yet! Some things require multiple attempts ". She and her crazymaking self are causing me to consider joining one of those brutal morning workout boot camps and paying to have someone abuse me.

But that's probably a disaster waiting to happen. Being told to "PUSH HARDER" and "GIVE IT MY ALL" at 5 in the morning would surely make me want to cutabitch.

So yeah, I think I'll just smother her with my pillow.

And instead continue with my evening workouts. Besides I've got serious motivation! It's kind of a secret. But lets just say I'll have to wear a swimsuit a lot (and if you guessed that I got a modeling gig you'd be correct!)



Ok really...it's so not even close to that. Don't drink and read. Also, crack kills!


Mwah,
Stacey



P.S. - Since we're kinda talking fitness feel free to check out my review on Crystal Light Pure Fitness water

Stop, Look, Listen... Click here if you wanna win a $25 Amex gift card

Help support local schools and enter for a chance to win a $25 American Express Gift Card by simply clicking on this here link to my fabulous but very much neglected-of- late review blog.

Have a nice Memorial Day weekend, y'all!

Sleeping in Hell - A post comprised mostly of pictures *Click on photos to enlarge and view captions

We always knew that at some point we'd need to change sleeping arrangements. For the most part the twins have enjoyed sleeping in the same room. Now that they're seven and quickly growing and changing we figured it was approaching that time.


So this is where we began on a cold and rainy Sunday




When hubby suggested we paint, I was overjoyed. I was suprised that he was that ambitious. If you know my hubby, you know he is excellent at home projects but generally hates doing them. Recognizing a moment to be seized, I quickly sent the Mr. and my son,B to go get some blue paint (the original color the hubby suggested). Just before they left, the Mr. joked (as if it were the most ridiculous notion ever) about how B wanted his room to be red and orange. Ha! I scoffed. Wouldn't that be something!? (read: hideous and no way in hell- no pun intended)


They came home with red and orange paint anyway.

And began designing






I wasn't getting it at this "during" stage


Then there was this:




Which even though it wasn't even close to my first choice of paint jobs/colors/designs has made a little boy very happy.

And it ain't hurtin anybody. So stop judging!

*Ahem*

Next week, we turn a little girls room in to a diva rockstar palace.

Lawd help me.

An ode to the twins

If I put my elbow at my side and extended my forearm forward, my hand rested right on my 36 week pregnant belly.

It was Mother's Day and I woke up at 6:00 a.m.

Realizing I had no gift for my mother,against doctors advice, I waddled down two flights of stairs, out of my house, hoisted myself into my car and drove to a nearby store for a card and flowers.

Moving was quite the challenge as I was carrying nearly 12 lbs of matter in my belly but I was determined to find just the right card. In hindsight I was really lucky that my water didn't break in that Albertsons.

I'll never forget the moment when my water broke. I'd been home from the store maybe an hour or two when it happened. I heard a pop and then I felt it. I couldn't stop it. It seemed to go on forever. I freaked as we tried to cram my mom, my twin sister and my stepdaughters who were all at my house on that day into our van. Since no one had actually had breakfast my stepdaughters who were just 8 and 10 at the time were trying to grab food. I remember rushing everyone.

I , just wanted to be at the hospital. It was scary and bizarre because my "water" continued to be released all the way to the hospital. Frankly, I wondered what my little ones were surviving in.

Once at the hospital everything happened so fast, the contractions started like clockwork. Nurses and doctors were rushing around me in triage checking monitors asking me questions, telling me to breathe.

About 30 minutes and a spinal block later at 12:38 and 12:40 p.m. I'd meet them.

And my life would change forever.

That was seven years ago today.

Every day I know my son and daughter my life is enriched. They're bright, witty, sensitive and compassionate. They're cuter than words can say and changing by leaps and bounds with each passing day. Just thinking about them makes me smile.

Happy Birthday, my loves. You mean the world to me.

I'd rather be snoring...

So yeah, it's Monday and I feel like I haven't gotten an ounce of sleep. Ever. At any point during my 37 years.

Alright so maybe I'm exaggerating. But we celebrated the twins upcoming birthday with not one but two parties. One Friday evening and one Saturday. Sunday was a day filled with a bit of gambling, a bit of marveling at how many old women with oxygen tanks gamble, a bit of eating and a whole lot of celebrating with my mom for mother's day. I am exhausted.

Oh and did I mention that crab mac and cheese I had out at the casino is totally rebelling on me now. Yeah it's not pretty.

So tell me, what did you do this weekend ?

Celebrating Moms - Mother's Day Giveaway

First of all, forgive me if I ramble as I was up with a sick child and by sick I mean the worst kind, vomiting, half the night. I'm existing on less than 4 hours of sleep. But that's what I do.
Motherhood isn't always pretty, but I've said it once and I'll say it again. It is the most important job I will ever do. And frankly, it's my favorite. My children continue to amaze me daily with their growth and innocence. Their budding senses of humor, their sweetness and compassion. The love I have for them is immeasurable.

And much of that I owe to my own mother. She showed me how to be a good mom. Now that I'm an adult I feel fortunate to be able to call her my mother and one of my best friends. I make a habit of letting her know how important she is to me regularly.

I hope you all do the same for that special woman in your lives.

The Promotion:

With Mother's Day approaching, what better way to celebrate that special woman than by taking her out for a nice meal.

Buffets's Inc (All Ryan's, Fire Mountain Grill, Old Country Buffet, HomeTown Buffet, Granny's Buffet and Country buffet restaurant locations across the country) wants to help you do that with the two-day "We Celebrate Moms" Mother's Day tribute at all restaurants. The promotion offers a chance to win pampering prizes for mom – ranging from restaurant gift cards to spa gift certificates to a luxurious cruise. This is their way of saying thanks and celebrating the woman at the heart of everyone's family.

When: Sunday, May 9 and Monday, May 10

Who: Any mom who dines at a Buffets, Inc. restaurant is eligible

How: Moms visiting any Buffets, Inc. restaurant on May 9 or 10 will receive a card containing a unique entry code. By entering the code at the www.wecelebratemoms.comwebsite, guests will learn whether they are a lucky instant winner. Everyone who participates will win a certificate for a Buy One, Get One Free (“BOGO”) meal at a Buffets, Inc. restaurant.

The Giveaway:

And Buffets Inc has graciously allowed me to offer two lucky readers "Be Our Guest" passes good for one complimentary breakfast, lunch or dinner at a Buffet's inc restaurant.

Simply leave a comment telling me how you'll celebrate that special woman in your life by 11:59 p.m. PST May 6th. Two winners will be chosen at random from all comments.

*Giveaway courtesy of Buffets Inc. I will receive one Be our Guest Card. No other compensation was received for this post

It was sloppy, wet and I only kind of liked it

On the way in to work this morning I heard it was National Remember Your First Kiss Day (aside- is it just me or is there a national everything day? In fact I think yesterday was National Watch Paint Dry Day)

*Ahem*

It took me back, way back. To 8th grade.

His name was Ben and he was so cute. We had seventh period together and flirted like mad but neither of us ever had the guts to pull the trigger.

One day as I sat at home lusting after dreaming about Ben I decided I'd write him a note. Instead of straight out confessing my feelings I wrote the beginning of a story that mirrored our situation and asked that he complete the rest and then give it back to my sister during fifth period. I remember adding several "ha, ha, ha, has" after my part of the story. I called it my protection. Protection in the event that he looked at the note , laughed his ass off then gagged at the thought of an "us".

As luck would have it , I didn't need the protection. He ended the story with the man professing his love to the woman and the P.S. and I quote " are you going to the 8th grade dance if this means what I think it means then HOT DAMN"

I was over the moon. In seventh period , after exchanging several winks and goo goo eyes we made arrangements to walk home together.

My pulse quickened and my pupils turned to hearts as I daydreamed that whole class away.

Before I knew it it was time to go.

And it was everything I anticipated. Holding Ben's hand was magical. I felt on top of the world. But then we'd gotten to his house too quickly. I didn't want the afternoon to end. So we decided to walk to my house.

Once at my house I introduced him to my stepmother and showed him around and then he told me he needed to get back home.

It was at that moment that I officially got nervous. I knew there was going to be a kiss. I knew other people in my class that had actually french kissed before. But I wasn't one of them.
Ben was my first "real boyfriend" and holding hands that day was as far as I had gotten. Hell, I was only 12 years old (for those of you doing the math, I started kindergarten at age 4).

Sweating, I walked him out and headed down the sidewalk.

I told him I'd walk him halfway, in an effort to stall.

We took a shortcut he knew and we were behind several houses when I knew I couldn't stall any longer.

As we said our goodbyes I secretly wondered if I could get away with a peck. I quickly found out that wasn't to be.

He leaned in and put his arms around me. I closed my eyes and put my arms around him. Our lips touched. Then, there it was. His tongue poking at my lips.
I had less than a second to decide my course of action. I wasn't completely stupid. I'd watched R movies. I figured the best thing to do was open my mouth.

Only I didn't know what to do with my tongue.

So I clumsily circled his tongue, and felt his drool down the side of my mouth.

Then it was over.

And I was glad.

I opened my eyes and smiled at him.

We hugged and then went our seperate ways. Once I was sure he was gone I wiped the side of my mouth and ran. I don't know why I ran at that moment. It just felt like the right thing to do.

When I got home I told my twin sister what I'd just done and how I felt about it. We laughed and laughed.

Our relationship ended with a tragic breakup a few days later at the 8th grade dance. The break-up had nothing to do with the kiss and my desire to never do it again. It had more to do with peer pressure. And the fact that I was beginning to explore the new wave lifestyle and Ben was a jock. I let my friends convince me he wasn't the one.
What can I say I was 12.

And that my friends, is the story of my first kiss.


Epilogue: In Ben's defense, I don't think he was a bad kisser. We were kids. Very inexperienced kids. Freshman year, he begin dating a Sophomore field hockey player. They dated all throughout high school and college and are now married with children. As for Ben and I. We're friends now. On Facebook.

The Good, the Bad and the Ugly

I took a painkiller moments ago so be prepared for this post to go downhill. Quickly.

The surgery went well from what I'm told. And two days post... I'm. Well I think I'm alright.

The morning of surgery was just odd. It was all very surreal and I felt like I was on the set of {insert popular medical drama here.I'm not up on my medi-dramas anymore. Ahem}.

The hospital staff was really wonderful, but as they poked and prodded all I wanted to do for some reason was make inappropriate jokes. When I was asked to remove my clothes I had to have a serious discussion with myself so I didn't ask them to make sure the doctor didn't molest me while I was out. In my head it kinda sounded funny. I know. Not funny right? I blame the drugs and the nerves.

The last thing I remember prior to surgery was my very lovely anesthesiology nurse asking me to breathe deeply into the oxygen mask, the stinging sensation in my IV that she'd assured me the sleepy bye bye drug would cause and the words "Goodnight, Stacey".

The next thing I recall was me asking somebody if I'd just come from work, them telling me no, and then my husband's gentle touch on my cheek.

I was in recovery. And higher than I imagine any one has ever been in the history of man. Apparently I'd told someone my pain level was high and so they gave me Fentanyl. I never ever want that shit again. I felt out of control and I just wanted to feel like me.

But they were pushing me to get dressed and get out (in the hospital's defense I was adamant that I didn't want to stay overnight). I remember telling the hubby he was going to have to help me walk out because I just knew my legs would have betrayed me had I tried to stand on them (thank goodness for wheelchairs).
We made it home around 11:00 a.m. and my bed and I have been good friends over the last several days. It's been weird, but kind of nice, but mostly weird.

I had a lot more to say, I think. But I think you get the gist...
So I shall say goodbye and thanks to y'all for your well wishes and offers to cuddle and make out when I'm better.
So you can be here with me in spirit I give you me in pictures Pretty right?
I know I'm a good friend.
Smooches.

My Neck Speaks Out (My first ever Vlog) - ***Updated

Update (4/5/10) - They'll be lancing, excuse me, excising this sucker on 4/15. And I'm pretty sure I have to be at the hospital which is about 40 minutes from my home at 6:00 a.m. As you can imagine I'm thrilled. Ok really I kinda am. Not about the 6:00 a.m. and not about the getting my neck cut open but secretly I'm excited for the down time. I know sad, right ? The surgery is only about an hour and recovery is only a few days. The suckiest part ? I have to refrain from any strenous activity for 1 month post surgery. Uh hello jiggly ass, I might as well embrace you because it looks like you be sticking around awhile!


If you haven't read my last post yet, go read it now. This will make a lot more sense if you do.

I'll wait.

Now that you're up to speed. Watch this:

Excuse me Miss, is that an Adams Apple ?

Alternate title under consideration: "Excuse me while I fall apart" because hello first there was this. Then I got shin splints which temporarily halted my master plan to be hot bodied by summer.

Now, I have...an adams apple. Or what looks like one anyway. Some random nodule on my throat which is both stressing me the hell out and making me laugh at the same time (it's either that or cry) . It appeared yesterday or so I think and I promptly made everyone in my house let me feel their necks so I could compare to see if this thing was normal. And guess whose neck mine most closely resembles right about now ?

If you guessed my husband you'd be correct.

*sigh*

I can only hope it's some random thyroid thing that will go away on it's own*. I can't bear to think of anything else. I love men and all...but I sure as hell don't want to be mistaken for one.


*before you even ask, why yes I do have a doctors appointment scheduled this afternoon. And you're welcome

Days 1 & 2

I'm writing to you from what can only be described as an almost too tired to function state. In fact when I first started this post I typed in a title and instead of hitting tab I hit enter. And published a title.

Shit! I did it again. I hit enter and published a title and a sentence. Lord help me. My apologies to your readers.

Day one of this happened much like you and I both knew it would. I didn't do a damn thing. I had all kinds of anxiety Sunday night over the whole getting up early and instead of going to sleep at a reasonable hour, I farted around on the computer and watched tv until 12:00 a.m. When I awoke randomly at 4:00 a.m., I quickly decided to shut off my cell phone alarm and promptly rolled over and caught two hours more of zzzs.

Was I disappointed in myself ? Not really. I've lived with me for a long time and I kind of get me. I was pretty convinced shortly after I wrote the original post that I wasn't getting up on a Monday morning at 5:00 a.m. to work out.

In fact, I may have made a rule that Mondays are my "rest" day. But don't quote me on that. One never knows when a wild hair might sprout.

Then there was today. Day 2. I didn't sleep soundly because I think my subconscious was aware of the commitment my brain had made and just wouldn't allow it. So when the alarm went off, I actually got up. I grabbed my workout clothes , headed downstairs

and sat

on the couch

and stared in to space.

Finally after 20 minutes, I got sick of my own ridiculousness and told myself it was now or never. So still dragging somewhat I slapped in the EA Active Personal Trainer and did an actual workout. ( hell what can I say it makes working out less of a chore for me and more closely resembles something fun. Oh and tip to those who have it or are considering buying it. It's a great tool, but think about using weights instead of the resistance band that comes with the game. Sure you'll have to balance holding the Wii remote and the Nunchuck in your hands along with the weights but it will give you more of an intense workout. Wait What!? Did I just give a fitness tip? Woo-hoo lookit me!)

I felt glorious afterward. Exhausted, but glorious really. There was something about my home being so still and quiet that was calming. There were no children telling me about my jiggly parts or asking umpteen questions. Just me and my workout.

But now, holy eff I'm tired. Like the kind of tired where you feel drunk and can't walk straight.

And I know one of two things is going to happen. I will fall asleep early and be raring to go bright and early. Or I will be so tired, I'll sleep right through my alarm.

We shall see what tomorrow brings.

Next week, I'll detail my descent in to craziness

I've been thinking about this for a while.

I'm almost afraid to say it too loudly. But I'm thinking of becoming a morning person.

If you know me via this blog or IRL you know that I am so ridiculously far from that right now that I might as well have said I'm thinking of becoming a man. It's possible, but it's going to take a lot of effort on my part.

I hate everyone in the morning. If you talk to me before I'm ready to hear a human voice I'll slap you. I'm that kind of evil.

But heres the thing, as much as it pains me to think this, I already am forced to be up at o'dark thirty . My work day starts at 7:30 a.m. which means I do get up early. Sure when I actually get to work, I'm usually makeupless, and dressed in the closest thing to pajamas and I hate it. But I do it.

Why am I contemplating this life change you ask ? The reality is that I need to start working out. Not just for weight loss, but for my personal health too. I'm no spring chicken and I'm told things only get harder as you get older. And after an 8 hour work day, a 1 hour commute, cooking, homework, picking out clothes for the next day, reading with kids, putting kids to bed, dishes and dog walking I'm exhausted and simply lack the will to workout.

So the other week as I looked at my big jiggly booty in the mirror an idea came to me.

Why not just work out in the morning ?!

My house is quiet, I won't have to contend with well meaning children that want to talk to me while I'm panting and sweating like a beast.

If I can manage to drag myself out of bed a mere hour earlier I can get in a 1/2 hour workout, shower,shampoo,shine and then I may even have more endorphins flowing which will surely help me to endure the work day.

Once this new plan is in place my hope is that when the work day is done, I won't have that awful feeling of "Shit, I didn't work out again tonight. I think my batwings have gotten droopier"

So we'll see. I've decided I'm going to document it. I can't not. Because I'll need a written record to show the doctors what drove me off the deep end.

When Couches attack:my weekend in pictures

People fall asleep on the couch every flarn filth flarn night right? Then they wake up with stiff necks and in 24 hours they recover, amiright?

Not if you're me. In 24 hours. The shit gets progressively worse. To the point where you wake up in severe pain not even able to dress yourself. Well, dress yourself well anyway.



Me - in my latest fashion accessory




But then there were these



















And life was good.

Already a bride, never a bridesmaid...until now

Ok so that was totally supposed to be a take on the "always a bridesmaid, never a bride" saying but I ...well nevermind.

Let me just say that for the first time in my 37 years I have been asked to be a bridesmaid. Which strikes me as kind of odd. Because it seems that every other woman has been a bridesmaid once. If not several times. And me ? Nope. Well there was that one time. But I'm not even really sure you can count that. Because I was more like a witness and I don't think you really have bridesmaids at a spur of the moment wedding on a dock.

Anyway, who knows, I possibly made this whole everyone's-been-a-bridesmaid-but-me thing up in my mind. It doesn't matter.

What really matters is: Holy shit, I am going to be in somebody's pictures that their kids, their grandkids, and grandkids kids will look at forever (way to turn this in to all about me, right?).

As you can imagine panic has set in because ,ugh, the chubs still haunt me. And a dress...oh don't even get me started on a dress. And shoes and accessories. There are so many choices (my wonderful girlfriend has only specified that the dresses be black but we get to pick the style. LOVE HER!)

Right now at this moment I'm loving this



or this
















with this jewelry















but holy pudge squishing out of the top of the dress...

Or there's this



But I've never been a fan of BABs (big ass bows). And then there is still that problem of pudge squishing out of the top. Of one side anyway. And maybe this is less wedding but more hoochie. I can't be sure.






(Yay!?Nay !? Other dress ideas?... HALP!)


Ok so maybe the wedding isn't until September and maybe just maybe I'll be all tight bodied by then and will invite all of you to come bounce quarters off my abs.

Exhale...

and if

and that's a big if

I can rock this dress in a six by then

and I'm saying this quietly

I'll post a picture.

We interrupt our regularly scheduled programming

Yes I realize I've been "absent" and will probably be for a little while longer. Lots. I mean. Lots going on.

But while you're waiting with baited breath for my next "real post", head on over to my review blog for a laugh and a fun little Olympics related giveaway.

Well...what are you still doing here?

A whole lot of Why

Good Morning Folks, and welcome to the first installment of Let's take a look into Stacey's brain. I think you'll find it quite exciting. Or not. Maybe you'll find that she's truly crazy. In any event, climb aboard and fasten your seat belts as it promises to be a worthless an interesting ride.

Now then, we enter her brain deep in thought and found these burning questions (note that if you were to get a glimpse of Stacey from the outside at this particular time "glazed over" would be the appropriate term for her general outward appearance)

Why is it that when I sleep really well, I'm more tired than when I've slept poorly?

Why is it that buying new underwear for the first time in forever has made me ridiculously happy?

Why did I decide to do the Special K challenge (and no this isn't sponsored, just something I'm doing of my own accord)?

Why can't weight loss be easier?

Why am I having dreams about friends with no uteruses being pregnant and ending up in strange places?

Why am I falling out of love with Twitter?

Why if I just went to the hair stylist on Saturday does my hair look like crap today?

Why do I want to dive into a vat of chocolate and eat my way out ?

Why does my dog have so much hair and how easy would it be to teach him to pick that shit up after himself?


Why am I ...zzzzzzzzzz


What's this!? We think. She's fallen asleep. Tune in tomorrow (or whenever Stacey is suffering from too much sleep induced dementia) for another thrilling installment of "Let's take a look in to Stacey's brain"

Y'all come back now y'hear.

Disclaimer: This may just be the craziest (read:stupidest) post I've ever written. But I'd be lying if I said I really wouldn't like answers to these questions. So if you can help a sister out any and all answers are welcome.

Getting our Game On! - Seattle G2U Event

Friday evening several SMBs and one SDB (that would be Seattle Dad Blogger) had the pleasure of attending a demo for Games2U, a mobile gaming theater new to the Seattle market.

One word: Supermegaawesome!

Ok, that was several "words" (and poor grammar), but it's challenging to articulate how ridiculously fun a temperature controlled 25 ft trailer with seating inside for up to 16-18 kids (or 12 adults comfortably), 6 - 52 inch flat screens (two mounted outside allowing for more room, more players and tournament play), an Xbox, a PS3 and a Wii is.

My son, a huge fan of all that is Lego, busied himself with Lego Batman while my daughter got her game on with Wii Tennis. They had so much fun that when it was time to pack it in, I had to do the 10 minute warning (then the 5 minute, then the 1 minute...you know the drill) because I knew getting them out of there would be a challenge.

This trailer full of awesome boasts more than 51 titles per game system and pulls right up to your home, school or corporate event. Your average party starts at $229, which in my mind, is reasonable considering all that it has to offer.

Alexis' sons playing inside and a view of the outside screens

I know what you're thinking: Why can't I simply host a video game party at my home with my own gaming system? Well sure you could.

But would you have the space and equipment to facilitate different games at the same time and/or tournament play? Would you have two game assistants on hand who can instruct and assist with any questions? How about super cool laser lighting or the ability to set up laser tag to give the kids a break from gaming and get in a little physical activity?


And OMG their human sized hamster ball?!
While I didn't try it this time I've added it to my "bucket list".

What's more, your party can be topped off with your child being able to shoot candy 50 feet up into the air via the mega cool “candy cannon” for all his /her friends to enjoy. Step aside pinatas, the candy cannon has arrived!



I could go on, but I'm guessing you get that this theater on wheels has just about everything you could want and more.


And if I wasn't impressed enough with the mobile game theater, Lance, the owner of Games2U (and Clowns Unlimited which rents any kind of party, wedding or corporate event gear you could possibly think of) set up inflatable bouncers and carnival themed games to make sure our kids were thoroughly entertained.


Lance, and the Games2U crew, really are a class act.






He and his staff wowed me with their easygoing yet completely professional manner and their willingness to endure our endless questions and statements like, "wow I’d like this for myself for a grown up party. Can you put a keg in here?"


But I digress. *ahem*


In the words of my 6 year old son, who now cannot wait until his May birthday to play in the game theater again, "Mom it was even way more awesomer than I thought it would be".

And I’d concur.

So if you’re looking for a great party idea in the Seattle/Eastside area that will make you the coolest parent ever check 'em out.

**Note - my camera was being uncooperative so these photos are borrowed from G2U, Alexis and Shana and because the FTC has to have it's hand in everything (ugh) - Disclosure: G2U provided a free demonstration only. This is not a paid review

And I shall make this clear as mud

Well I guess no one really wants to know about that time I almost got arrested on a military base as a teen and my Dad had to come and "bail" me out. And you really must not want to know that intolerance makes me so angry I turn green and bust through all of my clothes and start smashing things and throwing cars and people.

I'm okay with that.

What I'm really getting at and what I clumsily was trying to attempt with that last post was to see if anyone had any burning questions about my 37 years on this earth that I hadn't yet revealed answers to. Not necessarily the direction I should take this blog in. I like the general direction I've been taking it. Which,is no direction at all. It's me. It's comfy and I'm writing what I want when I want (I know selfish much). I know, I know I wasn't clear at all. If someone asked me what I wanted to see on their blog, I'd assume exactly what you all assumed. Don't worry I flogged myself for causing you such confusion and headache.

Oh and one other thing...the name.WM. I'm even confusing myself with all my online identities. So henceforth, I shall be...drumroll please.

Stacey.

Cuz it's the name that's on my birth certificate.

Smoochies to you all.

Well Hello 2010, you look pretty good from afar

A few days ago I was asked about my favorite post from 2009. I realized two things in scouring through those old posts. 1)I didn't write nearly as much as I would have liked to and 2)What I did write wasn't my er, best stuff.

What do I mean by that? Well, in many cases I quickly slapped together an obligatory "I'm busy" post. Really ?? Who wants to hear that week after week. We're ALL busy.

When I started this blog back in 2007, I posted every weekday. I know -the words are even shocking to me. I then realized in 2008 that that was unmaneagable and that the world would not fall apart if I didn't post with such frequency.

Then, in 2009 I barely posted. Maybe once or twice a month. If I was lucky.

And guess what ? While I admittely fall out of love with my blog occasionally- for the most part I love it. It's like that pair of jeans that are worn and really should be thrown out but just happen to be worn in all the right places and fit like a glove.
That said it's a new year and this blog will only be as good as I make it.

So I turn to you. You that havent met me, you that I haven't already spilled all my secrets to, you that I may not have drunkenly cried to on the phone. Yeah you. What do you want to see, what do you want to know , what do you want me to do with this here comfy pair of jeans ?