37 life lessons

Here is an article by Dawn Gluskin on 37 ways to live life to the fullest. I have to say, I love all of it!

TGIF and other nonsense

It's Friday!

The weekend is officially here, and I am officially stoked.

I love weekends. I live for weekends.

Especially right now, when life is incredibly busy and going to get even more so in the coming weeks.

First, with our insane commuting schedule living so far away from Cheyenne. It's inconvenient, to say the least. Needless to say, we're all looking forward to the house being done and our lives resuming some semblance of a normal schedule.

Second, I start school in a couple of weeks, so once again I will be plunged into the chaos of earning a degree whilst running a household and raising three children and all that brouhaha. But only three quarters left, so I just need to buckle down for...9 more months...

It's depressing when I put it that way...

And third, we're moving soon. Again. Moving is one of the most stressful events in a person's life. And we will have done it twice in four months. Just thinking about that makes my eye twitch.

But we did get good news on the house! I think I mentioned before about how our builders had a very different timeframe than us when it came to the house being done. They had been planning on the end of November. Our purchase contract states our closing date is at the end of October. Slightly big difference, yes?

Well, once this came to light there was a flurry of *slightly intense* conversations between us, our real estate agent, and the builders. The builders came back with a promise that we'd be in no later than the middle of November. Considering our lease ends November 15, that was cutting it a little close, but what can we do?

But then we got a text yesterday from the builder saying that the carpet order came in, so now all the materials are in and ready to go. She said it looks like we're on track for the end of October after all!

Granted, given all the hiccups and headaches we've had so far, I'm not holding my breath on that.

But still. Having that be feasible?

Totally cool with me!

So yes, right now weekends are my solace, my peace, my zen. It's the only time of the week for the foreseeable future that I can do what I want, and according to the schedule that works for me.

TGIF baby!

Good luck not having this song stuck in your
 head all weekend now!

So I wrote a little something for Yahoo!....

And they published it!!!

It's nothing fancy or particularly special, but for my first actually published piece, I'm fairly stoked about it.

Now I feel compelled to go buy a tweed jacket. And maybe some horn-rimmed glasses.

Though I'll never be as cool as HRG

A lesson in futility... and bribery

Potty training.

It's probably the bane of every parent's existence.

It's a stressful, exhausting period of time when every trip to the store, red light, traffic jam, or busy restroom is cause for a mild panic attack.

And there is no "magic formula" because every kid is different.

Some master it in a couple of weeks. Others make you feel like you'll be sending them to school in diapers.

With my oldest, he never had a pee accident (besides aiming issues), but the logistics of choosing between standing to pee and sitting to poop resulted in a few... unpleasant surprises.

With my daughter, she never had a poop accident, because the thought horrified her. However, she would wait until the very last possible second before heading to the potty, and several pee accidents resulted.

With my youngest... well, we're still working at it. Things were going so well a few months ago. And then... I don't know. He lost interest. He'll ask to use the potty immediately after going in his diaper. No matter how many times I ask him if he needs to go, or have him sit and try, he just... won't. All diaper, all the time.

Le sigh.

Because there's nothing like futility.

So what have I decided to do? Well I'm going to take a page out of the Bad Parenting Manual and resort to bribery.

Yes, that's right folks. I need something to act as an incentive, something to ignite his interest in potty training.

And that something is M&Ms.

Step aside, ma'am, we'll take it from here

One for a successful pee. Two for a successful poop. (Get it, get it?!?)

Because I'm sick of diapers. He's almost three-and-a-half. I want the diapers to go away. And I'm going to find whatever way works to make that happen.

Parent Of The Year, over here.

Hey, it could be worse!

(That picture never fails to crack me up)

Footprints on my heart

I think it is a universal understanding that good friends are hard to come by. In this great big world of 7 billion people, finding individuals who truly accept you for you, warts and all, is tricky. People want you to fit into their preconceived mold; they want to define you, shape you, control you, and turn you into their version of who they think you should be.

It's shitty, but true.

Growing up, I had several friends through elementary school and high school who were like that. I was told who to be, what to think, how to act, what I did or did not like, and sadly I accepted that for myself.

Until one day I didn't.

Needless to say, I have sufficiently lost contact with all of those "friends".

Now that I am approaching my 30s, it has become increasingly clear to me that it's not the quantity of friends you have, it's the quality.

In keeping with that, I really only have three true friends in my life. Yes, I have many more people that I would call my friends, several of whom I know I could call for help in a crisis or whatever.

But only three of them are people that I feel truly "get" me. People I could call sobbing at 3am, and they would drop everything to be there for me. And I for them.

The first is my sister. Growing up, we hated each other. Like, truly despised each other's existence. I was the irritated older sister, she was the spoiled younger sister. We fought. We threw things at each other. We called each other the meanest names we could think of. She bit me. I kicked her. Once she even pulled a knife on me!

(It was a butter knife, and she was about 4 or 5, but still)

(I still give her shit for it)

It wasn't until she was about 15 or so that we started to actually enjoy each other's company. After she graduated high school, she lived with The Husband and I off and on for almost two years, and while that was difficult in some ways, it was also a lot of fun and brought us closer together. She has been there for me through some tough stuff, and I for her, and I love her dearly and miss her a ton now that we've moved.

I don't think I truly appreciated how much I enjoyed getting to spend time with her or talk to her regularly, and now that we're 1200 miles away, I get sad thinking about it. I'm getting a little ferklemped right now actually, so moving on!

The second friend is my dear friend Age. She and I have been friends for 25 years.

Yeah. Saying that makes me feel reaaaallly old...

But we were barely 5 when we met, so the math isn't as devastating as it sounds.

Age was my first (and really only) best friend. She was my other half! We did everything together growing up. Sledding and camping and every single birthday and eight million sleepovers. We would play dress up until the wee hours of the morning, and then her parents would make the best pancakes in the world- still unrivaled by any other pancakes, ever.

Like, seriously, don't even try. Kotyk Pancakes for the win.

She had the cool video game systems that my family couldn't afford, and I developed my love of Super Mario and Donkey Kong at her house. We had a pet nail (one of those industrial sized rail road nails?) (yeah... I don't know... overactive imaginations?) attached to a meltwater runoff pipe on the walk home from the bus stop, and we named her Nailey and dressed her up in grasses and leaves and whatnot. We made snow forts and climbed trees and picked cherries and spent more time on the banks of the Columbia River than I can even remember (though I distinctly remember the intense terror I felt every time we went down there, because of the insane amounts of poison ivy plants and my irrational fear of touching said poison ivy) (which I still have today...) I practically lived at her house, and her parents still consider me one of their daughters.

We certainly had our ups and downs. She was the domineering one (as the youngest of three girls, I think she was exerting her power any way she could) and I was a total pushover. We fought like cats and dogs, but never stayed away too long (even when we probably should have). In about the 6th grade, we had a temporary friendship divorce, but I think it only lasted maybe a month or so? After that we pretty much stopped fighting (unless she was hanging out with one of the Amandas. The Amandas were never nice to me. Bitches) and our lifelong friendship was cemented.

I moved away at the end of 8th grade, and against all odds and expectations (and several hundred miles), we stayed in touch and stayed friends. While we don't see each other as often as we'd like, we still make it work. She is a part of me. She has known me the longest, put up with me and my idiosyncrasies, and accepts me fully (as I do her). Because of her (and her family) I had a happier childhood than I otherwise would have. We have literally and figuratively grown up together. I know that she will always be in my heart and in my life, and I love her and miss her dearly.

(Happy Birthday tomorrow!!!)

The third friend is my soul-sista Kym. I swear, meeting her was like meeting my (blonde, much shorter, much larger-breasted) alter ego. Our husbands find it a little scary how alike we are. She and I clicked instantly, which almost never happens for me. I always feel like I have to put on a facade with people, especially when I first meet them. But with Kym, I was instantly comfortable with her. I can totally be myself around her, and nothing phases her. While we've only known each other a short while, I feel like I've known her forever. We've supported each other through life's bullshit, we've laughed, we've cried, our kids are best friends, even our husbands get along great.

Leaving Kym was one of the hardest parts of moving to Wyoming (besides my family, of course). She was the first person I'd met, in the town I'd lived in for over 6 years, with whom I actually genuinely clicked. Our families instantly bonded, and I could easily see us all growing old together, sitting on our back deck, drinking beers and commiserating about what crazy thing our kids did, or the uber-mom up the street and the bitchy thing she said this time, or the craziness of extended family.

I miss them terribly, my kids miss their kids, and when I get particularly lonely or stressed out down here, I wish I could just walk up the street to Kym's, plop on her couch, play with Baby-Baby, and chit-chat for hours.

Weight loss and diet nonsense

Just wanted to share this woman's blog post- an open apology to all her previous weight loss clients.

It's really quite powerful.

Our focus on physical perfection takes its toll. It is unhealthy, both physically and mentally. It has become "normal" to have disordered eating habits, a disordered body image, a disordered life.

And it needs to stop.

Society needs a gut check. Or a reality check.

It really is as simple as eating real, natural, wholesome foods, being active, and letting the rest go.

Perfection does not exist, nor is it attainable. But what is easily attainable is your perfection.

Just be you. Be healthy. Live your life.

And for goodness sake, stop comparing yourself to other people. It's hard, yes. But no good ever comes from it.

You are exactly who and what you are supposed to be. So be you to the fullest.