WTF is a “jegging”, and why would you sell them in a plus-size store?

As we have already established, I am a gal of a rather husky nature. Called curvaceous by some, and that’s just fancy-speak for “carrying a few extra lbs,” I hear your cries. Over the years, the only store I have found that hasn’t shunned and punished those of us who can’t control our food intake, is Lane Bryant. Their clothes make a concerted effort to mimic those in the rest of the fashion world, giving us options other than pleated mom jeans and the ever-popular Mumu. The downside to them is that they charge us for the extra fabric, so their prices are more than what you would pay at Old Navy.

So the other day, I kicked back with my monthly mail ad, only to be horrified. Apparently skinny jeans just weren’t skinny enough, and they have created jeans that are actually leggings. I don’t know what is worse…a silk-screened print of denim on a spandex-knit or that fact that someone thought it was completely appropriate to sell in a store that starts at size 14 and goes to “You can fit a bowling ball in their bras.” Now before you start leaving me nasty comments, asking me why I hate my own kind…SAVE IT, or I will come show you how this fat bitch can kick your ass! I believe that curvy women are certainly sexy, and you can be bigger and beautiful. But I don’t want to see my own cottage cheese thighs rippling through spandex, and no one wants to see yours either.

Which leads me to unfold yet another revelation that no one has put out there…if you have an “awning over the porch,” aka: your belly hangs over your pants, or you have what is referred to as a “muffin top”, then you need to stop wearing jeans made for anorexic teenagers. I know what it is like to have to bite back your pride and go a size up, but GO A SIZE UP! It’s just not healthy to cram it all in there. If you need to use a shoe horn to scoop your fat roll in to your jeans, I am talking to you! Proper care and feeding of a gut, is to treat it right and let it breathe. If you truly love your body the way it is, then let it love you back by not tethering it in such a manner that it creates TWO rolls instead of one, which is what happens when you wear clothes that don’t fit. They have this wonderful invention called SPANX, which smoothes things out so nicely that you kind of WANT to spank your ass because it looks so good.

I am sorry if I hurt your feelings, but there is a civic duty that comes along with a blog and I am just using it as another way to serve my country. You will thank me for it later when you see photos.

In other news, I was nominated on Babble's Top 50 Mom Blogs List. So can you please take two minutes and click here: http://www.babble.com/babble-50/mommy-bloggers/nominate-a-blogger/index.aspx then scroll down to "Glamorous Life" and click on the "like" button.
Thanks a bunch!

What I heard: Amazon sells "How to" guide to Pedophilia

Last night as I watched CNN, I saw a story on Amazon.com and how they are under fire for selling not one, but MULTIPLE books on the subject of Pedophilia, and I just had to throw my two cents in. I watch the news more than most people I know, and if I hadn't heard about it until now, chances are that others haven't either. The main book under question is basically a "how to" guide for people who "live that lifestyle" and, as the books author states on the cover, "This is my attempt to make pedophile situations safer for those juveniles that find themselves involved in them, by establishing certain rules for these adults to follow. I hope to achieve this by appealing to the better nature of pedosexuals, with hope that their doing so will result in less hatred and perhaps lighter sentences should they ever be caught."

I will not give this author more notariaty by mentioning either his name or the name of the book. But I can tell you that I will not be shopping from Amazon.com anytime soon. I believe in the First Amendment, however I do not believe that means that a national retailer needs to sell that book. I think it's irresponsible and disgusting that they would give this author a platform in which to peddle his crazy. It actually hit the Amazon Bestseller's List!!! When it comes to subjects that are encouraging a reader to do something illegal and harmful to children, the retailer has a duty to use common sense over "Freedom of Speech". I am definitely not a "book banner", but there comes a time to make a choice between profits and integrity and this is why I am outraged. Shame on you, Amazon.

My belly grumbles for home: A Shout out to the PA Dutch

I love it when people ask me if I am Amish when they find out I grew up in Lancaster County, PA. Actually, if I were Amish, I would not have a blog, because they don’t use electricity. Had I been an excommunicated Amishwoman, I wouldn’t have any family discussed in my blog, because they wouldn’t be allowed to talk to me anymore.

But, I am Pennsylvania Dutch. The people called “Pennsylvania Dutch” are descendants of German-speaking settlers; the word “Dutch” is a corruption by English-speakers of the word “Deutsch,” meaning German. Pennsylvania Dutch food is hearty and filling. The cuisine often mixes sweet and savory or sweet and sour foods all in the same dish. It also loosely translates in to “the reason why I have saddlebags on my hips.”

You can thank the PA Dutch for the following foods:
• Scrapple –a pork-hybrid breakfast meat
• Rivvel soup
• Chow-chow
• Apple butter
Desserts:
• Shoofly pie
• Whoopie pies
• Funnel cake
• Fastnachts-Donuts that are kind of tasteless, but have a PA holiday named after them
• Apple dumplings

If you have ever heard of Shoofly Pie, but were afraid to try it, let me alleviate your fears and concerns. ITS EFFING DELICIOUS. When I lived in Georgia, I missed it so much I paid $30 to have one shipped down to me because I didn’t know how to make it. And now, to avoid the price racket the Amish have going on said mail-order pies, I give you the gift of shoofly pie. You’re welcome.


SHOOFLY PIE
1/2 teaspoon salt
3 1/2 tablespoons ice water
2 cups all-purpose flour, divided
Cooking spray
1/2 cup packed brown sugar
3 tablespoons Crisco
1 cup boiling water
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 cup molasses

Lightly spoon flour into dry measuring cups; level with a knife. Combine 1 cup flour and 1/4 teaspoon salt in a bowl; cut in 1/4 cup shortening with a pastry blender or 2 knives until mixture resembles coarse meal. Sprinkle surface with ice water, 1 tablespoon at a time; toss with a fork until moist and crumbly (do not form a ball). Press mixture gently into a 4-inch circle on heavy-duty plastic wrap; cover with additional plastic wrap. Roll dough, still covered, to a 12-inch circle. Freeze 10 minutes or until plastic wrap can be easily removed. Remove 1 sheet of plastic wrap; fit dough into a 9-inch pie plate coated with cooking spray. Remove top sheet of plastic wrap. Fold edges under; flute. Preheat oven to 350°.

Combine 1 cup flour, 1/4 teaspoon salt, and brown sugar in a bowl; cut in 3 tablespoons shortening with a pastry blender or 2 knives until mixture resembles coarse meal. Combine boiling water and baking soda; stir in molasses. Pour molasses mixture into prepared crust; sprinkle flour mixture over molasses mixture. Place pie on a baking sheet; bake at 350° for 40 minutes or until set. Cool on a wire rack.


On another completely unrelated note:KEEP ME IN THE TOP 50!
If you have already wasted 2 minutes reading this post, let me bother you for another 2 seconds to hop on this link, scroll down to Glamourous Life and click the little "thumbs up" sign to vote for me:
http://www.babble.com/babble-50/mommy-bloggers/nominate-a-blogger

Random rant about Babies…and other ships that have sailed:

I don’t know if it’s that whole “biological clock” thing that everyone talks about, but lately I have wanted to have a baby. (GASP) I know that is the most shocking and disturbing thing I have said in the past ten years. I kind of want to wash my own mouth out with soap….and then violently cut out my tongue with bolt cutters.

One reason is that they smell good. And they are cuddly. I have a constant battle with my sons about the finer points of deodorant and Stridex pads. With babies, you still have everything to experience with them: The First Day of School, getting to see what their personalities are going to be like. My kids are boring! I already know them, and let me tell you…they are NOT all that fascinating right now. They don’t believe in Santa anymore…they don’t even play with toys anymore. It’s all about video games, skateboarding and giving me looks of disgust. Telling me how I need to stop living their lives for them now that I am 31 because mine is over. (Yeah, they kind of got me on that one, for right now anyway.)

I keep waiting for my sisters to have babies so I can smother them with kisses and give them sugar, and laugh hysterically when their kids fill the cat’s ears with ketchup. No, but seriously, I want to have my nieces and nephews every summer for a week. I want all my kids cousins to be close to them, just like I was with my cousins. Unfortunately, the only way this is going to happen is if they come stay with us. The good thing, is that we live far away so they can’t just drop in for babysitting.

So why don’t I have another baby? There are a few reasons, one being that Andy can’t. I forced him to be the one to get fixed after I had pretty much two pregnancies, back to back. Evidently birth control was not one of my strong suits, so left to my own devices, I would probably have 12 kids by now and live in a shoe, undoubtedly, a Birkenstock, not a Jimmy Choo. Secondly, my kids are 10 and almost 12. I would be a complete moron to start over, just when the finish line is in sight. I guess I will just have to continue admiring from afar until my clock breaks completely.

Or until my children continue on the pattern of teen pregnancy in our families, and make me a grandmother before I turn 40, which is more likely the story.

The Hate Stops Now: A story of Intolerance

I have given you an introduction to my son, Taylor, and our struggles with his Asperger's Syndrome. Now I will give you the story of his struggles within himself.

Since Taylor was a toddler, he always loved long hair. The only thing he wanted was barbie dolls, much to certain friends and family members dismay. He even had an imaginary friend, whose long, silky locks he would stroke for hours as he talked to himself. For Halloween many years, he wanted the girl costumes, and when we would go to friend's houses to play, the princess costumes were his favorite.

We live in a military community, where real men wear blue and green and they wrestle and play sports. We signed Taylor up for soccer, which was short-lived when he kissed a girl on the cheek in the middle of a game and the girls' parents screamed across the field at my 6 year old child so disgustingly that he ran crying, and refusing to ever go back.

My husband was unsure of how he felt about all this. But I reasoned with him that either Taylor would see that the other children would pick on him and he would stop to fit in, OR he would say "screw what you like, because THIS is what I like." Either way, he would be the one to make the choice.

Over time, Taylor has adjusted by cutting his hair short and wearing men's clothing. He is almost 12. But I still catch him wearing my accessories and dancing in my heels. He is comfortable in his skin.

But others are not comfortable with him.

This year, things have escalated. As a 6th grader, he rides the school bus with the high school children. He has undertaken abuse and bullying on a daily basis. He has come home with fist-sized bruises on his arms and thighs, and has been slammed in to lockers and called "fag" and "gay". My baby comes home crying daily, and I don't know what I can do to protect him. The school's stance is that anything that occurs at the bus stop is not the school's responsibility, and the bus driver says he does not witness any of this behavior. Last year, they DID catch one of the children abusing him inside the school on camera, but the bully was not suspended or expelled. If it weren't too late to notify the state of my intent to homeschool, I would have pulled him out. Now we count down to May as if it were Christmas, so that we can move, and hopefully, find a school district that has better control over the situation.

With so many children his age committing suicide over these same issues, it's time to take a stand and insist that schools take these issues gravely. I make my son stay downstairs when he is home, because I don't want there to be an opportunity for him to be alone too long if he is emotionally distraught. When I was his age, I too, was bullied. Teachers saw, and they did nothing. I know not much has changed. Most believe that kids should just "toughen up" to prepare for life in the real world. I want my son to learn to stand up for himself and I give him that opportunity. But it only goes so far, because I am still the parent.

It's time that parents buck up and take responsibility by teaching tolerence. I don't care what your religious beliefs are, or if you live in a conservative household. It's a matter of right and wrong. I don't know if my son is, or will be gay, but to me it doesn't matter. This is my child, as there are many out there like him. You don't have to approve of him, and you sure as hell don't have to approve of my parenting style because I "let" him do these things. He is a human being and he makes his own choices as to who he is. My only job is to love him unabashedly, and fiercely. And that is what I will do.

Plastic Surgery: My Tummy Tuck

So, lots of people have asked me about my tummy tuck. What was it like? Did it hurt? Was it expensive? etc……So I guess I will just tell you my story, because I’m not really shy and if you ask me about it in person, I will totally try to show you my scar like a proud 4 year old.

About two years ago, right before my 10 year high school reunion, I was feeling pretty down about myself. I had made it through having two children and didn’t gain a ton of weight. But then I moved to Alaska and gained about 80 lbs in 6 months when I was 21 years old. Over the years, I struggled with gaining and losing weight. In reality, I always will. I had always wanted a tummy tuck, even when I was thin in high school. I never had a flat stomach….my gut was almost like a pet. It was always there. So as my high school reunion neared, I decided that I was going to go to a consultation and at least get the info.

I went to Chattahoochee Valley Plastic Surgery in Columbus, GA and saw Dr. Naman. A girl I knew had gotten her boobs done there, and they looked amazing. Dr. Naman graduated from Princeton and worked at the Mayo Clinic. If you are going to get plastic surgery, please check out your doctor. This person could completely screw you up!

I went in, discussed why I wanted a tummy tuck and my expectations. After discussing pricing (which was $4500) I walked out with an appointment for the following Monday to have my surgery. Now you can pay cash for surgery, or most plastic surgeons will finance them, like a car. The cost was what had made me wait so long to decide to move forward with this, because I felt guilty spending that much on myself.
I went in the day of my appointment, they knocked me out, and about 3 hours later, I woke up. I was groggy and tired, but not really in any pain. They stitched my abs back together because if you have kids, pregnancy often separates the muscles, making the wall sag. The stitches inside, I could feel if I breathed too hard or coughed. The incision didn’t hurt at all because when they open you up, they detach the nerve endings.

For the next 10 days, I had to walk bending over and constantly slather Neosporin over my incision so it would stay moist and heal with minimal scarring, which it did pretty quickly. I had to lie in bed with a pillow under my knees and slightly sitting up, but the painkillers they give you knock you out, so you still sleep. I took a week off work, but probably should have taken about 10 days. You wear a big Ace bandage around your stomach for a month. It helps the scar tissue form tighter around your abdomen.

A month later I was at my high school reunion, and everyone probably thought I had gotten implants rather than a tummy tuck, since I was pretty flat-chested until I had my kids. The money I spent was well worth the cost and the minimal discomfort I was in. I don’t ever feel like I look horrible now. I have days that are better than others, but I never want to just give up on myself. My husband has told me that if he knew what a big difference it would make for my self-esteem, he would have let me do it years ago!

Please feel free to ask me any other questions you might have about this topic.

Spa Sundays: My reward for good behavior

If you have a relationship with a man in the military or a single woman AND you have children, you realize that there are many times that you don’t get the weekend off to recoup. I find getting through a deployment like running a marathon (or so I’m told, because let’s be honest…I don’t run.) You just keep going and going, seeing that finish line in the distance, and even though you can’t even feel your rubbery legs, you somehow make it to the end. Then you collapse.

It normally takes me a few months to get in the groove again. Andy is borderline OCD, so he doesn’t believe in sitting still on weekends and relaxing. The first few years we were married, it made me feel incredibly guilty that I was sitting happily on the couch while he went by, lifting my legs out of the way as he vacuumed. But now, I am used to it. I look at Sundays as my “Don’t ask me to do anything” Day. I stay in bed late… sometimes just laying there. Then I might get up and cook some delectable breakfast for my family, but not out of obligation. That is what makes the difference. I only do what I want to do, not what I have to do. Today I did put in a pork roast to slow cook through the day. I will be making an apple cider reduction sauce to top it off with later.

Most of the day, I watch the Food Network or DIY. You can get a lot of good ideas from watching these channels. Or I sit and watch all the shows on my DVR that I taped for me, like Project Runway. I am about 5 episodes behind because Andy will NOT watch this show, although my sons love it. This week, spa Sunday will include me running on the treadmill for 10 minutes. Not because I like exercise, but because I like the thought of having a slender body. But we can’t always win.

I realize I am lucky that I have a husband that cleans. In fact, Andy does ALL the laundry when he is home. My father is NOT a cleaner. It used to make my mom manic because she would have to do all the chores/laundry/cooking/shopping herself. I am too much of a bitch. I wouldn’t have allowed it, because I have a sense of self-worth. I work a full-time job outside of the home, and there is no way I will do it all, wear myself in to the ground, and slowly grow to resent my husband and his Neanderthal laziness. Hell no. Give your husband a choice. He can do the grocery shopping, or he can do the cooking. He can do the laundry or he can clean the bathrooms. Divide things up. What is he going to tell you? No? HAHA. If he does, then see how fast he changes his mind once there is no dinner made for him, or no clean clothes when he goes to work.

I guess my point to this post is that you don’t have to wait for Mother’s Day to have some time to yourself. Obviously if your husband is gone, you are going to have to modify this. When your kids are old enough, you can develop Quiet Afternoon Sundays. The kids have to sit and work on an art project or read a book so that you have time to relax. It’s good that they grow up already having a time set aside to put all the stress out of their minds and just do something enjoyable. Laundry will wait…housecleaning will wait. Good mental health is worth so much more than 3-4 hours of work. You are the rock of your household, and no one is going to give you a break from that. I waited for years, but being the mom/wife is the keystone that holds the family together. So you have to just create what works for your family.