Things I'm Dying To Know

Olive Garden anyone? 

Today, after having the rare occasion of a Monday mid-day nap I got to thinking.... why are naps reserved for babies and toddlers? Wouldn't we all benefit from a little snooze at 2:00? Wouldn't humans be happier, healthier and more productive with a siesta each day?  Wouldn't life just be.....better? Well that got me questioning, and I thus I came up with the following list:

 THINGS I'M DYING TO KNOW:

1) Why aren't beer and cheesecake good for you while whole grains and kale fattening? Wouldn't that make sense from an evolutionary perspective?

2) Does anybody really believe that quinoa and vegan, glutton free cookies are delicious, or are they just messing with our heads?

3) Why do the Kardashians have their own television show?

4) Do fast food marketers really think we are stupid enough to believe that young, attractive, SLIM, ethnically diverse coworkers gather over double quarter pounders (with cheese) while laughing with delight? Really? REALLY?

5) What are you suppose to do with your wedding gown and veil after the big day? I have held on to mine for 14 years now... and guess what? It has done nothing but take up space. Selling it seems somehow wrong, and I do love my veil. Would it be appropriate for me to wear it to the Olive Garden one night? Why not?

6) Who decided that two weeks of vacation was a good national standard? For most people in this country that doesn't even cover the amount of time they will need to take off for a sick kid or failed childcare. I want to move to Europe.

7) How ridiculously moronic do tampon manufacturers think we are? I have seen some cyber-commentary on the Internet regarding this issue, however I can't help but reinforce the fact that even with the most amazing, absorbent "comfortable" tampons in the world, no mentally sound menstruating female wants to jog on the beach while wearing a white string bikini. Bad. Idea. Trust me.

8) How soon until there are 12 step groups for smart phone addicts? Sign me up.

9) Does my husband really expect me to believe that he doesn't enjoy business travel at least a *little* bit? No waking up at 2:00 am because your nearly 8 year old wet his bed....again, no rising at 6:45 am to three boys suffering from low blood sugar and rising testosterone levels, time for happy hour, dinner out, and a morning jog. Yup. Sounds awful. I'm calling bull-sh*t. Just own it.

10) What is it about the intonation of whining that grates on the ears, and why are my children such wonderfully accomplished whiners???

Got answers? I'm listening....

Yes I Drive a Minivan II

Yes I know I'm not invisible behind these windows. I realize that you are looking right at me as we are sitting neck and neck at the stoplight. That's right maybe you can even hear a little base as I bob my head up and down all gansta style. I'm just groovin to some Macklemore on the way to the bank so I can pay the nanny.

Don't raise your eyebrows at me when you see me singing along, even to the four-letter words, never mind that  I'm  in an outfit from the Banana Republic Classic Collection, I am still totally bad ass. How about I just turn this shit up a bit? That's what I'm talking about.

Hey I had a hard day buddy, so just look away. I had four painfully boring interviews, had to make a trip the the DMV, and my five year old has been possessed by the devil. Damn straight I need to blow off some steam. If it were legal maybe I'd even add some malt liquor to this picture.

What are you laughing at? There is nothing funny about this. Haven't you ever seen a grown woman screaming "THIS IS FUCKING AWESOME"  while chowing on leftover Goldfish crackers before? (It is part of the song!)

Dude, YES I realize I AM DRIVING A MINIVAN. YES I realize I am a yuppie old lady who never gets to the club anymore.  That's why I dance in my car, which happens to be a minivan. Which is totally acceptable.

See, I can even squeal my tires as I speed away from this stoplight-take that! Okay, so the song changed and now I'm blasting Joni Mitchell.What can I say? I have eclectic taste. I'm a mom. I drive a minivan.

Kargas Inc. CEO Crazy

Appearences can be deceiving. Employees report that this normal looking CEO is insane.

Kargas Inc. CEO, Rachel Kargas Speaks Out Against Rumors That She Is Going Crazy

Denver, CO

For the past month rumors have been circulating about Kargas Inc, CEO 38 year old, Rachel Kargas.  Whispers that she "just isn't right" or that she is losing her competitive edge have been buzzing ever since the company expanded in May of 2011.    Even close friends have voiced concern that the middle-aged executive is cracking under the pressure of running her up and coming organization.

Kargas Inc relocated earlier this summer to Denver, Colorado. The move while likely beneficial for the young company has presented challenges. Employees have struggled to adjust to the new location and analysts speculate that this low employee satisfaction which has lead to insubordination, protests and even strikes has impacted Ms. Kargas's mental health.

Staff have accused their CEO of being unusually short of patience and "mean." One employee who wishes to remain anonymous reported that Kargas has gone to outrageous measures, going as far as to deny staff dessert for as long as two days. The anonymous reporter also indicated that Ms. Kargas has gone "super-duper bad" doling out inappropriate punishments such as removing television and Ipad privileges and sending employees into isolation for as long as fifteen minutes.  Additionally, insiders close to the CEO have said that she has appeared to be unusually exhausted, forgetful and drawn to trashy television such as VH1'S "Couple's Therapy."

When Ms. Kargas was contacted for comment she simply responded in this crazed frenzy: "Who told you that?! It was Evan wasn't it? That's it. No SpongeBob for a month!"

Sadly, this comment is a clear indication of Kargas's lose grip on reality. There is growing speculation that staff will try to vote Kargas out in the coming weeks.

We will bring you more updates as information becomes available.

The first three

See my pearly whites? Oh my mom too. And beer. Don't forget the beer.

The cast is off. The game is on. The Denver Rock and Roll Half is October 20. Time to start training. It is hard not to feel discouraged. I haven't run for six weeks. I am not in the same shape I was when I ran that half marathon in May and that stinks, yet I have made some small strides.

Today, after purchasing a brand new pair of running shoes, and spending several days on the elliptical, I ran for the first time, at the gym, on the treadmill. I hate my gym. 24 Hour Fitness, AKA: Meat Market. Girls in tight spandex and high pony tails, guys in muscle shirts, checking out the girls in spandex. I feel so..old and out of place, yet it's convenient and affordable. The treadmill, so FREAKING BORING, yet it is what was recommended by my physical therapist. So there you have it, me in the meat market on a gerbil wheel. And it was good. REALLY good.

It was only three miles in 29 minutes. Short and slow. Such a difference from my workouts a few months ago, but I was inspired. I listened to my running play list, the one that got me through my training and I remembered myself finishing my last (and first) race, how far I had come and I knew, I know I can do it again.

Speaking of self confidence... my husband is always nagging me because I refuse to show my teeth when I smile. As I have grown older I have favored a closed mouth grin. I look younger when I don't show my stupid yellowing teeth. Well enough. A few Crest White Strips (and no this isn't an advertisement, I am sure you can use any old brand) and I'm back in the smiling game.... at least sometimes. My husband tells me a wide grin shows joy. Well, certainly I have plenty of that to share.

So Cheers to running, and smiling big!

Here is what is happening....

Highlights from the past several days:

Me & My sweet bean

My five year old son has been possessed. Seriously possessed. Evil forces have taken over and I no longer recognize my child. After years of no "accidents" Evan has successfully wet his pants twice at day camp. He fights with his brother constantly. He turns absolutely the most mundane things into a serious conflict. If I tell him to wear his camp shirt, I am called a "very bad person" if I ask him if he would like to read a book he tells me that he "hates books" if I serve him sloppy joes for dinner it's "the worst food ever." I simply cannot win. Is it the move? The change in routine? Exhaustion from an active camp experience? You tell me. And while you are at it point me in the direction of a good exorcist.

A lot of people have been ticking me off lately. From our landlords who tried to screw us out of nearly $2500 worth of a security deposit over the most ridiculous things, to the doctor at Urgent Care who ordered me a (unnecessary) pregnancy test at the top of lungs in close proximity to other patients, to my doctor who gave me a "back to running" plan which over the course of several weeks will get me to the point of jogging 30 minutes straight. I don't have time for that garbage. Seriously. I think I could run six miles tomorrow.

I did get my cast off. Bye-bye florescent pink cast from hell. It was removed yesterday and thus far my ankle feels great. I got on the elliptical today and plugged away for an excruciatingly boring 40 minutes, but damn it felt good to sweat. I got off that stupid machine and looked at myself in one of the mirrors (which 24 hour fitness graciously supplies everywhere so that gym rats can check themselves out constantly) and I saw my red face. I couldn't have been happier. I have missed that sweaty, worn out feeling. I want to see that red face every freaking day.

I think my eldest son has a higher IQ than I do. For real. He is speed reading through the Harry Potter books like nobody's business. Meanwhile I have managed to read a pathetic four chapters of my novel for book club over the past 3 weeks. The kid does math in his head while I am counting on my fingers. Before you know it I'm going to have a son that is not only taller than me, but can also do my taxes. Sheesh.

I am 100% in love with my "baby." Julian is at an absolutely adorable stage. He is constantly hugging me and saying "I wuv you too mommy." Yup. Heart melting. No, this time won't last long. 

So that's what's happening folks...until next time...

Yes I am posting a picture of my sweaty face, I hope to see a lot more of it!

Missing You.

In my early 30's I had one of those rare friend breakups. It left me completely blindsided. We had been coworkers. We lunched together daily, shared regular happy hours, we gossiped and shared our ups and downs. We had very different lives. I was married and a new mother, she was single and dating. At times I lived vicariously through her. She would tell me about the happy hours that turned into all night dance parties, her hook-ups and boyfriends.  At some point we had a falling out and she cut off all communication. Eventually she sent me an email and said something about "people coming in and out of your life" and "letting go."  My feelings were hurt and I was taken aback. I'm not accustomed to people just walking out of my life. Of course there have been casual friends of convenience that I have lost touch with when proximity ceased, but for the relationships that I had invested time, heart and energy in? No, for me, that isn't "normal."

Yet as I have grown older, lived in multiple cities and held multiple jobs, I have come to realize that relationships can be at the very least, "flexible." People change. Lives change. Circumstances change. People move. People divorce. People leave you.

I admit I don't like it. Sure, I have some casual friendships, people I know because of proximity and circumstance, but for the most part if we are friends it is because I have invested. I chose you and I hope that you chose me too, and that is why it is always so very hard for me to say goodbye. Goodbye. I feel like it has become all too common. Our society has made it so very easy to pick up and move, to another city, another state, another country.

I have had some painful goodbyes. There was the morning I walked away from my friend's condo, brand new baby in a sling across my chest, I blinked the tears away as I bid one of my closest friends farewell. She departed east two years ago and I wonder if I will ever see her again. There was the pat I received from a friend who mumbled "it's been fun" at their going away party. Our children had played together regularly and we had shared many good times, secrets and drinks, and now it was again, goodbye.

I don't let go easily. For better or for worse, I don't like people "coming in and out of my life." I don't necessarily attach easily, but I attach hard, and alas, I am terribly sentimental.

So on nights like this, I think of you. The friends with whom I once shared so much with.  I miss you. I miss you so very much. And I'm always here. Right here.  

Who I am

When I first started blogging I would check Google Analytics religiously. I analyzed how many visits I had each day, where they were from, and how long they spent on my page. I frequently checked  the number of  followers I had acquired  and continually yearned for more. I ran an occasional contest in an attempt to earn more fans, and eventually crept my way up to 230. At one point I had big visions for getrealmama. I had hoped for adoring fans who would comment frequently, I had imagined that I might be discovered as a truly funny and talented writer. I dreamed of pitches from eager agency Account Executives hoping that I would endorse a product or client.

Somewhere along the way I stopped looking at the numbers. I became comfortable that  my followers were static, there would be no getrealmama t-shirts, free swag or conference invitations. My blog became for me. I write what I want to, sometimes making lame attempts at humor, but accepting that this is my (public) diary, and that while it hasn't attracted herds of adoring fans from Blogher, it is mine. It is honest, real and a reflection of where I am in my life today. It isn't the most brilliant, insightful or thought provoking writing, and while I know I am capable of better, it serves it's purpose. It is my outlet, for emotion, creativity and  sometimes angst.

I have come to realize that everyone thinks that they have a story and that there are millions and millions of writers out there far more brilliant, articulate and witty than I am. I'm not going to be the best. I'm not going to stand out.

Why am I even mentioning this? I suppose it is because it is about more than this blog. It's ultimately a realization about who I am. I am not a top blogger, nor am I a senior executive. I have a job which I am good at, yet I will likely never achieve greatness. I am a decent mother, but will never be PTA President, Den Mother or Parent of The Year.

However many followers one has on their blog, however many promotions they get on the job- it's time for me to stop analyzing and comparing. It's time to do this life thing for me. To stop worrying about the numbers and who is better. There is always someone better... always. And so I suppose this is a public statement of my intention to try and let go of the competition. Life isn't a contest. Life is what you make of it.

Falling In Love

It's a lovely feeling falling in love. I'm lucky that I experience it so often with my boys. It isn't the butterfly, giddy, can't think of anything else feeling, but rather the feeling in my heart that I would do anything for the small souls that depend on me. When that tiny voice whispers "hand" and places the smallest of hands in mine, holding on to me with complete trust and vulnerability, I can't do anything but melt.

It sounds cliché but every day that passes I love each of my children more and more. Sometimes it is more evident than others. Today was one of those days.

It started this morning when I was left alone with Julian, my two older boys off for their first day at camp. We played cars in front of our house, Julian giggling every time I said "ready, set, GO!" and pushed a Hotwheel towards him, often spinning and flipping out of control before landing next to his tiny feet. We did it again, and again, and every time I was rewarded with the biggest most honest grin, the kind that makes you happy in your heart. We then ventured for a walk around the block. I figured Julian's toddler feet were a good match for my bum ankle. We made our way slowly, passing the beautiful Victorians that dot our neighborhood. I pointed out flowers and Julian insisted on sticking his nose in all of them to smell. He rejoiced at the site of kitty-cats and squirrels. He reached for and demanded my hand in his. I watched him taking it all in, how he just enjoyed a sunny Monday morning, and I just felt so....in love with my littlest son.

The feeling continued this afternoon when at 3:00 I received a call from the YMCA informing me that Evan was having a "meltdown." His fingers were in his ears and he wouldn't listen to anyone. They thought he wet his pants. I was taken aback, Evan doesn't have accidents. Evan does well in new situations. I tried to explain, but it didn't matter, I needed to pick my poor son up. Since I cannot drive picking up Evan and Zack was a family affair. Husband was on a work call, so it was I who walked into the school cafeteria to retrieve my son. As soon as I entered I saw my little boy, his fingers stuck in his ears, tears in his eyes, the crotch of his pants soaked and a sad look of utter... disappointment. My heart broke at his vulnerability. All I wanted to do was rescue my little man from his fear and embarrassment and make everything alright. Once again, I was struck by just how much I love this little being.

Finally I felt my heart swell with pride as my eldest son shared his perspective about the camp experience. He told me about all of his new friends and shared details of every activity and game. He was lively, excited and so filled with energy.  He makes friends with such ease, he has a natural confidence and is just so stinking smart. I could not be more proud.

So today was one of those days where my heart was overflowing with love. Hell it isn't always easy, my kids are anything but angels, but yet I am just so utterly in love.....

Lady of Leisure

That's right. A maxi dress.

Remember that silly little incident experienced in the pool, somewhere in Utah? The one that sent me to urgent care and left me in a brace? Well that brace is now a(*hot pink*) cast that I will be wearing for the next couple of weeks. While x-rays show that nothing is broken the specialist believed this was the best way for me to heal and reduce the chance of scar tissue build up. Consequently, no driving, no gym, and not much of anything for this gal.

For those of you who know me, you are aware of how difficult it is for me to do nothing. I am a girl who likes to do. I don't sit around the house on a lazy Sunday. I work out. I take the boys on hikes, day trips or errands. I clean, do laundry, shop, but I do not.....sit around. As it turns out, when your foot is stuck in a hard cast, you are pretty much forced into a sedentary lifestyle. Hopefully it will not last long, and for the moment I am trying to make the very best of it.

This fourth of July weekend we were suppose to go camping with our best friends. We had planned this months out. When the doctor said "cast" I knew that camping was probably out. But the boys were so excited that we decided the guys would leave their gimpy mama at home and enjoy nature without me-this would be a boys weekend. My friend Shannon stayed behind as well.

At first I felt guilty. Was I being a huge wimp? Should I have sucked it up, brought a lawn chair and a case of Coors Light? News of the rain my boys have been experiencing on and off during the trip confirmed that I had made the right decision. You can't get a cast wet. Communication from my husband which has included recordings of the rain falling on the tent and the baby screaming bloody murder has probably lead my husband to question his own decision to go in the first place. But that's his problem.... right? Right.

So instead of a weekend of camping with my boys, I was given a child-free weekend with my best friend. It was pretty awesome, and it forced me to do something I very rarely do....not much of anything.

Friday after the guys took off on their adventure I took a nap. I took a long shower. I had more coffee. I went shopping with my friend and bought several adorable dresses (including the look I never thought I could master-a MAXI DRESS- I know your jaw just hit the floor) I took my time. My girlfriend and I went to drinks and dinner downtown,  I stayed up till 1 then got up at 9:45. BLISS.

Yesterday was lunch with a girlfriend, another nap, some random work around the house and then more drinks at the neighborhood hot spots.

While there is certainly a part of me that is concerned about muscle atrophy, weight gain and is guilty about missing the camping adventure with my children, I am so grateful for the (forced) opportunity to be what I'm usually not.... a lazy lady of leisure.

Because hot pink goes with everything

At Local 46 with my bestie!