Category Archives: Life

Facebook, Humor, Life, Parenting, Uncategorized

Can’t Make This Sh!t up

February 5, 2014 momopolize@gmail.com 28 Comments

You may (not) have noticed I’ve been absent from blogging the past few months (just humor me and gush about how much you’ve missed me…). I thought I’d give you a tiny glimpse into some of the daily shit that keeps me from writing. Literally.

Last week we got home from an evening that had already included a concussion (Jimmy)and an injured knee (Jake). Right after Jimmy went downstairs to bed, he called me and exclaimed that he was walking through water. Was the bump on his head was worse than we thought? Alas, no. He wasn’t hallucinating. (If he was, I suppose he would have envisioned walking ON water.)

Our hot water heater had busted and flooded our basement.

The bad luck fairy seems to have visited our family a lot this past year. I’ve been trying reaaaalllly hard to avoid turning into a “glass half empty” type person, so attempted to look at the bright side: (1) It was clean water, (2) most items in the storage room were off the floor because Jim had built shelves, (3) no walls or furniture were damaged and (4) we had a giant carpeted kiddie pool.

After we looked up our (way too high) homeowner’s insurance deductible, we decided to try to salvage the carpet instead of submit a claim. We (“we” meaning Jim) pulled up the carpet, threw away the padding, sucked up the water, repeatedly steam cleaned the carpet with anti-mildew cleaner. Then we installed new padding and put the carpet back. Two days ago.

Fast forward to today. I was taking my daily nap when Jimmy burst into my room to tell me water was pouring all over the storage room. I stumbled downstairs thinking something must be wrong with the new water heater. However, what I found appeared to be water spewing out of the OLD water heater which was still sitting in the storage room.

Even in a half asleep stupor I knew that it couldn’t be possible for an empty, unattached tank to be spraying water. Could it? No, it couldn’t. Upon closer inspection, I figured out that the water was pouring down through the ceiling. It was splattering off the top of the old water heater and raining all over the room. And then it hit me…the room directly above the storage room? The bathroom.

I ran upstairs and water was pouring out of the toilet. The clogged toilet. The clogged, shit-filled toilet. The clogged, shit-filled toilet that requires a “handle jiggle” to stop filling with water. The clogged, shit-filled, jiggle-required toilet that had obviously been “filling” during my entire nap. (I won’t name the little shit who admitted to the…not so little shit that clogged it.)

So much for the glass half full attitude. This time it was NOT clean water. And everything that was “safely” on the storage shelves had been splatted with shatted water. Ew. Ew. Ew.

Shit just got real. Too real.

I don’t need to worry about my glass being half full OR half empty. I think my glass is broken. That’s not seven years bad luck like a mirror, is it??

At least we didn’t make a claim for the first flood. That would have been an awkward phone call. “Hi again Mr. Insurance Man. Remember me? You just replaced our carpet two days ago. Can you enter a claim of ‘ditto?'”

_________

Funny side story…

I was worried about the carpet having a mildew smell so wanted to check it one more time after the final cleaning (from flood #1). I was wearing pink PJ pants with turtles on them and a purple sweatshirt. I put on shoes – black ones that were by the front door – so I wouldn’t get my socks wet.

Jim (seeing me putting on shoes): Where are you going?

Me: Walmart.

Jim: Oh, ok.

I guess he thought I’d fit right in.

Facebook has changed it’s policy for posts to Facebook pages, like my Momopolize page. They are only showing posts to a small number of the page “fans” unless the page administrator (me) pays to boost the views, which this administrator (again, me) won’t be doing. The best way to make sure you will see future blog posts is to subscribe by email (upper right corner). I usually don’t post more than once a week (and, you know, sometimes as little as once every 3 months) so I won’t be FLOODING your inbox with a bunch of emails. Go subscribe now so you won’t miss any of my shitty posts!

You can also go to my Momopolize page, hover over the “liked” button and select get notifications. Then you will see the little red number show up when I post on the page. This will notify you of all status updates, not just blog posts.

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Book Review, Humor, Life, Parenting

The Mother Of All Meltdowns – Memories and Review

November 18, 2013 momopolize@gmail.com 18 Comments

I was thrilled to be asked to be part of the blog book tour for “The Mother Of All The Mother Of All Meltdowns Book Cover Meltdowns” because:

Over half of the contributors are my wonderfully talented blogger buddies!! (The contributors are ALL talented. I just haven’t had the pleasure of getting to know the other half. Yet!)
Who doesn’t love to hear that other Moms have full blown conniption fits too?!

This fantastic compilation of stories had me yelling at the book, “Yes!” “Me too!” “Exactly!” “Been there done that!” and “I’m glad I’m not alone!” Yes, I actually yelled at the book.

The best thing about the book for me was that so many stories brought back memories of similar incidents that have happened to me. And I realized that I can now LAUGH at most of them, even though they seemed mortifying at the time. (I say most because some will ALWAYS be cringe-worthy. Toddler tantrums ain’t got nuthin’ on Mommy meltdowns.)

One particular memory that was dredged up happened when I read the story “From Goldilocks to Dreaded locks.” It reminded me of a time Jimmy gave himself a haircut. With boys, self-inflicted hair cuts aren’t a huge deal. Just give them a short buzz cut and you are good to go, right? But one particular “trim” was a little more traumatic for this Mom. My husband still hasn’t lived down that this happened on his watch.

I was out for the day and came home to find Jim having a work meeting in our dining room, with Jimmy in the next room doing “crafts.” Crafts with glue and scissors. I went to say hello to Jimmy and thought he looked a bit tired but was soon distracted by that fact when I saw piles of hair on the table. And a large almost bald spot on top of his head. I remained calm (I didn’t have a choice since Jim was having a meeting) and took Jimmy up to his room for a time-out and lecture that cutting your own hair leads to a life of crime. Or something like that.

Since he looked so tired, I wasn’t surprised that he fell asleep during his time-out. However when he still looked tired after his punishment induced nap, I started to worry that he was sick. Closer examination of the problem made ME feel sick though. He looked tired because he had CUT OFF HIS EYE LASHES! (I should add that Jimmy was the toddler who had to-die-for lashes. So long that celebrities would pay thousands for fake replicas. People would comment on them DAILY. And now they were GONE.) Fortunately Jim’s meeting was over because I completely flipped out. I would like to say that my first concern was that he could have stabbed his eye with the scissors, but that was a distant second. I was so upset that the lashes were gone. THOSE lashes. Those PERFECT lashes.

I screamed. I cried. I paced. I Googled “do eyelashes grow back??” (The answer “in seven YEARS” wasn’t very comforting.) It was horrible. I think my head may have actually spun around.

About 13 years later, Jimmy’s eyes are still his most talked about feature. But the lashes? I swear they never completely grew back.

While that will never be a “pleasant” memory for me, I can at least chuckle at the absurdity of it now. The book brought back many other ridiculously funny (or just ridiculous) meltdown memories such as getting locked out of the house by an angry child, cursing “the most magical place on earth,” the boss who insisted on knocking on my office door EVERY day when I was pumping, the moment of being told it was too late for an epidural…the list goes on.

I will have to tell those stories another time, but for now you MUST go read the stories in The Mother Of All Meltdowns. The stories are short enough that you can read one while waiting in the carpool line and finish another before the kids find you hiding in the bathroom. Or you can get sucked in like I did and read the entire book in one sitting. I promise you will laugh (and even cry) and most importantly…feel NORMAL for coming unglued now and then. The stories will make you feel like you are right there with “a bunch of hot mamas losing their cool!”

P.S. I received a complimentary copy of the book to review, but all opinions are 100% my own!

Childhood memories, Halloween, Life

The Beast of a Different Color

October 30, 2013 momopolize@gmail.com 1 Comment

I originally wrote this for a Ghost Story series on Funny Life Stories.

A childhood friend had a farm that we visited frequently. We spent hours upon hours riding horses or just running around the acres of land.

But there was one area we would never venture near. At the back of the property was a house. An old abandoned house. THE house. The HAUNTED house.

There were many rumors about mysterious noises heard and sights seen. We had heard all the stories and had always steered clear.

Until the day we didn’t.

We stubbornly decided to prove our bravery by visiting the house. We walked for what seemed like miles, getting more nervous with every step. We crossed field after field. Climbed fence after fence.

As the house came into view, we were each too proud to turn back. Then we saw it. Movement behind one of the broken windows. We gasped. We crept closer in an attempt to get a better look. We saw more movement. We climbed the fence into the final field separating us from the house. We were so intently trying to get a better look at the shadowy figure, we didn’t notice anything else around us.

We were shocked to see more movement, but this time in the field instead of the house. There was no doubt this time. It was clear as day, and running right toward us. It was huge and terrifying and we were momentarily frozen in fear and disbelief.

We snapped out of our stupor and ran as fast as we could, screaming all the way across that field in front of the haunted house, with the giant beast on our heels. We sprinted until we reached the fence and hopped it in a quick jump.

In our quest to solve the mystery of the monster house, we had inadvertently entered the field of a different kind of monster.

A bull.

After being chased by that behemoth, the shadowy figure didn’t seem quite so scary after all.

Health, Humor, Joke, Life, Uncategorized

Top 20 Dumbest Injuries, Part 1: The Wonder Years

September 19, 2013 momopolize@gmail.com 19 Comments

You know those people you see in a cast and when asked what happened they tell this fascinating story of how they were competing in a triathalon or jumping from an airplane or saving a kitten from a tree?

I’m not one of them.

Whenever I get injured, it is always some ridiculous story that is too humiliating to share. Except here, of course. Nothing is too foolish or embarrassing to blog about.

I’ve never had stitches (except during surgery) or a cast (My breaks have been in spots that are uncastable. <—That should be a real word.). So I never considered myself “accident prone” until I started listing this series of misfortunate events. These are just the ones that came to mind quickly. I think I should start wearing bubble wrap.

1. My Little Pony (age 9) – I got a concussion from being thrown off a horse. And by thrown I mean slid off because I was riding without a saddle. And by horse I mean itty bitty pony. My head managed to find the sole rock in that field.

2. A Real Cliffhanger (age 10) – I was hiking on a mountain with my girl scout troop, carrying a heavy backpack. I’m not sure why we had backpacks. Probably to earn a patch of some sort. We were walking along the edge of a cliff and a sudden gust of wind knocked me over (Or I was just clumsy and slipped. Same thing, right?). I wouldn’t have plunged to my death or anything but it would have been a painful, bumpy slide down a very steep rocky hill. Plus there was a major highway at the bottom of the cliff. As I hung on to a boulder, I just started laughing hysterically (I’ve told you before I joke at inappropriate times.). The leader grabbed my hand and pulled me up. Everyone just stood there staring at me like I was a freak for cracking up at the thought of the rocks cracking me up. (And lest you think this is one of those childhood memories that gets exaggerated in the mind, I still drive by that cliff. Laughter was definitely NOT the proper response.)

3. Ice Ice Baby (age 14) – A friend and I routinely took a shortcut after gym class. Instead of maneuvering through the crowded hallway to our next class, we took the gym’s outside exit which included a large flight of concrete stairs. One day we stepped outside onto a sheet of ice. My friend slipped and bounced to the bottom of the stairs. I slipped but didn’t bounce. Unfortunately, my elbow stopped me. I couldn’t get myself off the stairs – not because of the pain – but because I was laughing so hard (Shocker.). By the time I got myself up and to the school office, my pants were completely soaked (from the ice, my bladder control was fine. Then.), I was in excruciating pain, AND I was in trouble for leaving the school building (Oh, did I forget to mention that taking our “shortcut” was against the rules? I guess they thought someone may get hurt or something. Psshaw.).

4. On The Fence (age 14) – While riding my bike on a gravel road, I did a perfect flip over the handlebars, landed (on my back) on a fence, flipped again and landed (on my butt) on the ground. Cirque Du Soleil would have been impressed. I’m sure this was my coolest looking mishap ever, but I had no witnesses and not a single scrape or bruise to prove it. I didn’t even break the fence.

5. Dope on the Slope Part I (age 16) – I went on a youth group ski trip. I suck at skiing and struggled on the bunny slope all day. When it was almost time for the bus to leave, a friend convinced me to try the medium slope before left. “I can’t handle skiing next to the 3 year olds on the almost flat snow and you want me to go on the big hills? Sure!!” (I suffered from ITS – Invincible Teenager Syndrome). To make matters worse, we got on the wrong lift and ended up on the advanced slope. With the reeaaallllyyyyy big hills. I wiped out getting off the lift and my “friend” left me in the ~~dust~~ snow. I crawled around to gather my skis and realized I had no idea how to get them back on. The lift operator finally took pity on me (and stopped the lift!) and came to help. I then had no choice but to ski down the enormous hill, alone. I was doing ok until my skiis fell off again and I realized I STILL didn’t know how to get them back on. I had visions of being left behind by the bus and found days later by a St. Bernard with a mini barrel of water around his neck. I actually attempted to WALK down the hill. Slippery snow, slippery boots and remaining upright? Impossible. As a last resort, I sat on my skis and slid the rest of the way down the hill on my butt. I got a lot of strange looks, but that was the most fun I had all day. It wasn’t until I was safely riding home on the bus that I realized my wrist was swollen. I’m not sure which of the (many) falls caused the injury.

6. The Frat Splat (age 17) – My very first weekend at college my Freshman year, I tore ligaments in my foot at a fraternity party. There was…ummm…soda…spilled on the floor and I slipped while rocking out to Mony Mony. (Well, I don’t know what song was playing but Mony Mony played at every single frat party ever so it’s a safe bet.) My suite mates – whom I had known for all of about 4 hours – started helping me hobble back to my dorm until the kind campus police stopped to see what all the hopping was about. They gave my roommate and me a ride (to the dorm, not the station). My roommate kept whispering emphatically for me to hold my breath. I must have had the hiccups or something (It was definitely not because I had too much soda.). The next day my roommate went with me to the ER and kept running my foot into walls and door frames while pushing my wheelchair. I think it was subconscious payback. Surprisingly she didn’t request a room assignment change.

7. Study Break or Study Broke? (Age 20) – I was lying on the floor studying for a college final when something popped in my lower back. I spent the next 6 months recovering from a slipped disc. From studying. Those text books need a warning label.

8. Dope on the Slope Part II (age 23) – When Jim and I were dating, we went skiing. Jim used to be a ski instructor so thought he could teach me. He underestimated my suckiness. While trying desperately to snow plow, I ended up completely off the course. I landed – doing the splits – in the muddy woods. Muddy because they don’t bother to put fake snow that far over since they assume no idiots will go there. (You know what happens when you assume? Well, unfortunately this assumption only made an ass out of ME.) It took me so long to try to get unstuck from the mud (and unstuck from the splits) that the rescue sled came because they assumed I was injured. Luckily the only thing hurt was my pride. And Jim’s eardrums.

Sadly my misadventures are too long for one post.

Tune in next time for Dumbest Injuries, Part 2: The Mrs. Years.

“Calamities are of two kinds: misfortune to ourselves, and good fortune to others” [Ambrose Bierce The Devil’s Dictionary]

I bring you much good fortune.

Guest Blogger, Guesterday's News, Humor, Life, Travel

Guest Post: I Need a Vacation from Vacations (My Life As Lucille)

September 13, 2013 momopolize@gmail.com 13 Comments

On the heels of my Vacation Fails post and during the last “official” days of summer, this is the perfect guest post for this week! It is by my wonderful friend Lucy Ball, who is just as funny as her namesake. I’m sure you will agree and by the end of this post will also be saying “I Love Lucy!” And now I present Lucy…she’s got some ‘splainin’ to do!

_____ My Life as Lucille

Hello, friends and fans of Momopolize! My name is Lucy and I blog randomly over at My Life As Lucille. I can also be found on Facebook and Twitter. I write about whatever pops into my head plus all of the ridiculously crazy family drama that keeps me seeing my therapist on a weekly basis. Nice to meet you!

It is my great pleasure to be a guest writer here today. I LOVE Momopolize! I hope you enjoy the following description of our family vacations. It’s sort of appropriate, especially now that I’ve done it up right once again by rolling our van and camper this summer and completely totaling them both. Yah. It’s how I “roll.” Ahahaha! Hope you enjoy!

This post was originally published here.

I Need A Vacation From Vacations

I get around. Metaphorically speaking, of course. And I’m convinced that my family is cursed when it comes to vacations. My family was plagued by bad luck and misfortune.

For example, my sister and I were heading to South America when we accidentally locked our keys and passports in the car at the airport. Someone in the parking lot managed to fish the keys out of the door, which was slightly ajar. When we arrived in South America, we had a mix up with our bus reservations. We ended up on a completely random bus driving through the Andes in the middle of the night. With zero cell phone coverage. With no way for our family back in the U.S. to locate us. And only a slight handle on Espanol. We managed to survive in spite of ourselves.

There was the rental car in Panama City when I was in high school. Our car would randomly stall in the middle of the street for no reason. In order to restart it, my dad would have to pop the trunk and push a button inside next to the spare tire. This happened SEVERAL times on that trip.

And then there was the Royal Crown Family Restaurant in AZ. After hours of negotiating our rental car reservations and driving through the foothills at midnight, we finally found a restaurant to grab a bite. We hadn’t eaten since lunch and were all starving and cranky. Unfortunately, our waitress was more interested in sitting in a booth with a trucker and slurping on beer from the 12 pack of Schlitz he had on his table. We watched with ferocious anticipation as our plates sat under the warming lamp for no less than 45 minutes.

We ended up eating Red Hot Burritos from a Stop ‘N’ Go gas station down the road at 1:30 AM.

The next day, we visited Montezuma’s castle while in Flagstaff. After paying $75 to get in, the first sign inside said:

THIS IS NOT MONTEZUMA’S CASTLE. HE WAS NEVER ACTUALLY HERE.

Seriously???

We have locked our keys in rental cars. More than once. We’ve boarded an airplane looking for our seats in Row E. There wasn’t a Row E since we were on the entirely wrong plane.

There was the DEEP SEA fishing trip when we all ended up sea sick, hanging over the side of the boat as it rocked and tipped spraying sea salt on our sun-parched faces. For 8 freaking hours.

While in Italy, I managed to get myself locked in a stairway in the hotel with no way out but the emergency/alarm exit.

Still, I wouldn’t trade any of them for the amazing experiences I’ve had. Probably.

After all, the BEST part of any vacation (mishaps and all) is when I pull up in the driveway, breathe a sigh of relief that we’re all in one piece, truly glad to be home.

Hope your summer vacation was far less exciting than mine was!

_____

P.S. Lucy and I should NEVER, ever, ever go on vacation together. Although it would make for one heck of a blog post. 😉

9/11, Life, News

9/11: State of Shock (and Words of Comfort from an Unexpected Place)

September 11, 2013 momopolize@gmail.com 2 Comments

Twelve years ago, a friend called me to tell me to turn on the TV.

I did. About 30 seconds later, the first tower collapsed.

I just stood there staring at the screen, almost like I was watching a show.

Just stood there.

For a long time, I was troubled about my initial reaction. Or lack thereof .

Why was I motionless?? And emotionless?? Why was I not instantly crying and screaming at the TV??

Because I was in shock, that’s why.

I always thought of going into “shock” as a response to a physical injury, but didn’t really think about it as a response to seeing something traumatic.

“Acute stress reaction symptoms…typically include an initial state of ‘daze’ followed by over-anxiety.”

“Daze” pretty much sums up what I was in that morning. As the day went on, the reality sunk in. And so did the anxiety.

We live near an airport and I’m so accustomed to the planes that I normally don’t even notice. In the weeks following 9/11 however, every single plane that flew over stopped me in my tracks. I would have sworn each one was mere inches over my house. Heart pounding, I would stand there frozen, convinced it was going to crash into our house. Every time. It was a horrid feeling. To this day I don’t know if there was a temporary change in flight pattern (since we are near DC) or if it was just my fear taking over.

Twelve years later, I am back to not noticing the planes.

But as for the other events of that day? I’m still in shock.

Click here for “Words of Comfort from an Unexpected Place.”

Humor, Life, Lupus, Parenting, Travel

Our Top 12 Vacation Fails

September 4, 2013 momopolize@gmail.com 19 Comments

Disclaimer: Our vacation for the most part was incredibly relaxing and rejuvenating. In fact it was deemed the “best vacation ever” by all 4 kids within a few hours of arriving. That is great for me, but boring for you. So you just get to hear about the non-Rockwell moments.

#1 – PACKING FAIL
Since I was sick before our vacation, I did ~~very little~~ nothing to prepare for our trip. I told everyone they were responsible for packing for themselves. Jim made sure all the bags were ready to go and loaded all the luggage in the car.

Except his. He had 2 shirts and 2 pairs of shorts for the entire week.

#2 – GONE TO THE DOGS
We folded down the back row of seats in our suburban for the dogs to ride. Except for a cooler, they had the entire back area of the car.

They instantly jumped the cooler to cram themselves on top of the suitcases. And Greg.

“We just wanna’ be wif you guys.”

#3 – SWEET OR SOUR I’ve always been a mosquito magnet and couldn’t step out of the wooded lake house without the little buggers instantly finding me.

Me: “I must be really sweet. The mosquitos just won’t leave me alone!”

Greg: “That’s why I love you Mom…”

Me: <<Smiling – thinking he’s agreeing that I’m SOOO sweet>>

Greg: “…Because you keep them away from ME.”

This is what the nuclear power plant looks like.

#4 – NUCLEAR REACTION
We made the mistake of telling the boys that the water temperature was 91 degrees because the lake was built to cool a nuclear power plant.

They were convinced we were swimming in toxic waste.

Boating toward the nuclear power plant — All Greg heard was nuclear.

#5 – DEEP DISH FISHING Despite many fishing attempts during the week, nothing was caught. On the last day, Jim stuck a leftover pepperoni on his hook on a whim. He instantly caught a fish.

The fish must have heard that someone ordered a pizza with anchovies.

#6 – JAKE SPARROW
Jake is a hat guy but forgot to bring any on the trip. He searched for a “souvenir hat,” but we couldn’t find any tourist-y shops. He finally found a baseball hat with a pirate skull at a little country store. Since it was the ONLY hat around, I said yes without really looking at it.

Later I noticed there were words under the pirate skull.

“Surrender the booty.”

Aaaaargh, not the best choice for a 14 year old.

#7 – GAME OVER During a game of Battleship, Greg called an incorrect guess by Jim a “close miss.” Of course, Jim’s next guess was a hit. He tried to explain to Greg that by calling it a close miss, that was a clue that the ship was probably next to that spot.

Greg replied,

“Loose lips sink ships must be about this game.”

#8 – RULES SCHMULES
We rented a boat for the week. The agreement stated “no water sports” which we interpreted as “we have to say that because we don’t want you to sue us if you get hurt.” So we attached a tube to the boat anyway. The marina called Jim’s cell while we were in the midst of tubing to tell us they could see us. Oopsie.

We tied the tube to the kayak. — Motor boat, kayak. To-may-to, to-mah-to.

Note to self: When breaking boating rules, don’t ride back and forth RIGHT IN FRONT OF THE MARINA that RENTED YOU THE BOAT!

Since the marina threatened to take the boat away for violating the rental terms, we followed the rules…until the last day. You are going to confiscate the boat now? Thanks! Now we don’t have to return it in an hour.

In the mean time we improvised and invented “kayak tubing.”

#9 – PHOBIA PHAIL
I’m terrified of water. Not as much the water necessarily as what I can’t see IN the water.

Why do they have to call them “bodies” of water anyway?? And I know sharks are only in salt water, but I’m sure there is SOMETHING in that lake just as scary. Like a mutant toxic waste fish-snake-lizard.

The boys kept asking me to go tubing (before we got busted) and, not wanting to look like a pathetic chicken in front of them, I hesitantly agreed. The tube had already taken quite a few trips behind the boat.

I jumped in and instantly thought it felt too squishy. Everyone poo-poo’d my concerns as paranoia.

Again, not wanting to be a chicken, I decided to go with the flow. The boat started moving and the front of the tube instantly went under and the entire thing filled with water.

My worst fear! I was sinking!! By the time they pulled me back to the boat, the tube was completely submerged and almost completely out of air. And everyone was laughing hysterically. At my hysterics.

I wasn’t amused. Jim will damn well make sure the thingies where the tube is inflated (what are they called anyway??) are tightly plugged next time.

After my titanic experience, I was definitely scarier than any mutant sea creature.

Speaking of titanic... — Speaking of titanic…

#10 – ENGINE FAIL(URE)
One night we boated to a restaurant for dinner. On the way back, the engine overheated. We spent the next two hours waiting for the engine to cool, and then moving full speed for about 30 seconds before it would overheat again. Did I mention that the lake is 17 miles long? And that of the 4 cell phones we had on the boat, 3 had dead batteries?

The lower the sun went, the higher the stress level went. I tend to inappropriately joke when I’m stressed. So even though I was envisioning spending the night on a pitch dark lake surrounded by the Loch Ness monster, I made up songs. The skipper and Gilligan would have been proud.

“The Dad was a mighty boating man. The mother brave and sure. Six passengers went to dinner that day. For a three course meal. A three course meal.

The engine started turning off. The tiny ship was stuck…”

The favorite was to the tune of 70s song “We need the funk. Gotta have that funk. Ow.” Click on the link to listen so you can visualize us on the boat singing…

“We broke the boat. Gotta fix that boat. Ow.”

We didn’t really venture further than that for those lyrics. Everyone just joined in right away and sang that same line over and over. And over. I never need to hear that song again.

When the engine would get too hot and cut off, the boat couldn’t be steered and would just drift. As we approached a bridge, Jim was trying to time it to make sure the engine didn’t overheat too close to the bridge so we wouldn’t drift into the bridge supports. It was at that moment that I realized just how much Eric is like me. He broke into song to the tune of “I love it” by Icona Pop (again, feel free to click on the link so you can sing along)…

“I got this feeling on a summer day when we’re afloat. I crashed my boat into a bridge. I watched, I let it sink. I threw the engine into a bag and pushed it in the lake. I crashed my boat into the bridge. I don’t care, I love it. I don’t care.”

That’s my boy.

We finally got someone to answer the phone at the marina as the sun was setting behind the trees and the response was “You really need to get the boat off the lake. It’s almost dark.” Gee thanks. I wish we’d thought of that two hours ago. Then we were given the option of calling a $350 tow boat.

Jimmy pulled out the paddles instead.

#11 – SOLAR FLARE
Lupus and the sun don’t mix. We rented a boat with a canopy so I could stay in the shade. Unfortunately, when we were stuck on the lake on the broken down boat, the sun was too low and there was no shade.

Lupus and stress also don’t mix. Apparently when you put the three together, it’s no bueno. As the sun crept below the canopy, whatever area of my skin the beams would reach almost instantly broke out in a burning rash.

It was very bizarre. I could actually watch my skin turn red and splotchy within 10 seconds of the sun hitting it.

But I tried to keep singing anyway. (It ended up lasting for weeks. The burn/rash, not the singing.)

#12 – LOCATION, LOCATION, LOCATION
The lake is in a town called Bumpass. Four boys in a town by that name…the jokes are endless. End. Less.

Vacation win though? When your kids are misbehaving, it is perfectly acceptable to say

“You are being a pain in the Bumpass.”

P.S. Don’t leave yet. At the bottom of the photos is a vacation video you don’t want to miss. It’s pee your pants funny. Trust me, I found that out the hard way. 😉

_____

Cute photo, huh?

I had 247 rejects such as this before I got them all to smile at once.

Little piece of paradise — I ended up with 12 fails but, yeah, you get the picture (pun intended).

Sorry, I don’t think I can post videos here so you have to go view it on my FB page. It’s really worth the extra click though! Click here —> VIDEO OF THE SPINNING CONTEST.

Guest Blogger, Guesterday's News, Life, Parenting

Guest Post by Tiny Steps Mommy PLUS Blogging Conference/Free Reader Appreciation Cocktail Party in October!

August 30, 2013 momopolize@gmail.com 7 Comments

Nicole Dash is a writer, blogger and child care business owner who lives in Annandale, VA with her husband and four children. Nicole writes about family, life, parenting and caring for children on her heartfelt blog Tiny Steps Mommy. She also enjoys connecting with her growing community of friends on Facebook and Twitter.

Femworking Blogger & Small Business Conference — femworkingconference.com

In addition to Nicole guest blogging for me today, I’m also very excited to announce that she is co-organizing the Femworking Blogger Conference at the Hyatt Regency Crystal City in Arlington, VA on October 26, 2013!

The conference includes educational seminars, meals, snacks, an incredible swag bag, stunning, professional free headshots, and amazing opportunities to network with bloggers. Jill Smokler from Scary Mommy is the keynote speaker (see the entire list of speakers here). You also receive a signed copy of Jill’s newest book, “Motherhood Comes Naturally (and Other Vicious Lies)” as part of your registration. All of this PLUS tickets are discounted until September 5! What are you waiting for??

And there’s more! ALL of my readers are invited to a Reader Appreciation Cocktail Party at the spectacular Rooftop Chesapeake Lounge at the Hyatt from 7-10pm on October 26. There will be plenty of cocktails (cash bar), hors d’oeuvres and a few surprises. You don’t have to attend the conference to go to the cocktail party. Entry to the party is FREE but you DO have to register here because space is limited. Jill Smokler will also be attending.

And now Nicole’s wonderful post!

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I don’t Want to Screw-Up My Daughter’s Self-Image

By Nicole Dash

“Mommy, will I look like you when I grow up?” my five-year-old daughter asks.

I pause internalizing the question. Does she want to look like me? Is she afraid she’ll look like me? Do I want her to look like me? Am I about to scar her for life with my answer? Did the professional photos I just had taken for my blog/writing impact her? Did I send her the wrong message?

“You will look like yourself baby. You may have some of my features, just like I have some features that look like Nana, but everyone is unique. Everyone is special,” I answer with my best I hope I don’t screw this up voice.

I get so nervous answering questions regarding looks, weight, or beauty with my daughter. I want her to feel beautiful whatever her age and regardless of her physical attributes. I want her to be her own person and not measure herself against the images she sees on television or in magazines. I want her to be confident in who she is and what she believes – not just how she looks or doesn’t look.

I also don’t want to emphasize looks over more important things like intelligence, compassion, humor, independence etc. But, I am keenly aware of the pressure placed on women to look a certain way or weigh a certain amount or fit into a certain size. I struggle every day not to compare myself to others or judge myself harshly. I am my own worst critic. This is not what I want for any of my children, but especially not for my daughters. They deserve better.

As I answer my daughter, I think about the blog post – I’ve Started Telling My Kids I’m Beautiful by Off Beat Mama. The writer says we need to make our children believe that we are beautiful no matter how we look, especially as we age and carry the scars of life. We need to say it out loud and have our children understand that even imperfections are beautiful.

But, as a friend of mine on Facebook said so eloquently in response to this post, “We have to learn to see ourselves the same way first [as beautiful]. But, saying it, whether we mean it or not (yet) will make a huge impact on our kids and ourselves.”

I completely agree. So, I decide to face this issue head-on. I mentally prepare my speech about how beauty comes in all forms and how we need to love ourselves no matter what. I think about pulling up my new professionally done photo and a photo I don’t like of myself (almost all of them) and show her how beautiful I am in both, even if they are vastly different. I swallow my fears and begin by asking my daughter, “Why do you ask? Do you want to look like me?”

I brace for her response, but she shrugs and says, “Nah, I want to look like myself. Can we read a story now?”

I sigh, pick up her book and start to read about the girl that turns pink after eating pink cupcakes for the millionth time. I am grateful not to have that conversation, yet feel robbed at the same time. Didn’t she know we were about to share a landmark moment in our relationship. Didn’t she realize how much I suffered in those few moments just trying not to screw her up for the rest of her life. Oh well, I suppose there is always next time. Or maybe, just maybe, I don’t need to say anything at all because she is only five and these issues are my issues not hers.

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Visit Nicole to read more of her posts and thank her for all her hard work on the conference!

Guest Blogger, Guesterday's News, Humor, Life

Guest Post: It’s Been a Hard Day’s Night, and I’ve Been Working Like A Dog

August 23, 2013 momopolize@gmail.com 14 Comments

Today’s guest poster is Hilary from Feeling Beachie! Hilary is a CFO by day, writer by night. She wonders if she likes to find the humor in life or if it just finds her. She dated a guy so commitment-phobic she was able to write a book, Dangled Carat, about their relationship which will be published this September. Hilary can also be found on the Feeling Beachie Facebook page, the Dangled Carat Facebook page, and on Twitter.

This post was originally published here.

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My friend’s children came home from school and she told them that if they wanted a snack they needed to get one quickly as they soon had to leave for soccer practice. Her son didn’t waste any time as he questioned if there was any chocolate milk left. She told him that there was and he grabbed a glass and filled it to the rim.

Her older daughter announced, “Chocolate milk isn’t good for you. It contains high fructose corn syrup.”

My friend agreed, but said, “True, but it is fine for a recovery drink after exercise, like Gatorade.”

Her son was paying no mind. He was just enjoying his beverage.

“Then why are you drinking it now?” The girl questioned her brother. “It is a recovery drink, and you didn’t play soccer yet.”

He took another gigantic swig of his drink, clearly relishing in the taste before answering. “I am recovering. I had a very rough day at school!”

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Now go visit Hilary and wish her luck on her book release! 🙂

Happiness, Humor, Inspiration, Life, Parenting, Uncategorized

Happy Birthday Momopolize (and the Real Reason I’m Obsessed with the Numbers)

August 21, 2013 momopolize@gmail.com 20 Comments

Not many blogs get a birthday party. But mine did. Jim came home with cupcakes and a card. OK, ok. We look for any excuse to buy a cupcake, but still. He definitely got brownie points for that. Or cupcake points I suppose.

Some of you know that for the past couple of weeks I have become a bit “overly concerned” about some random goals I had set for myself. OK, maybe it was more than “a bit.” I couldn’t figure out why I was putting so much pressure on myself to meet these goals. No one made me set them. They were just numbers I chose. Nothing was going to happen if I didn’t make it. And nothing was going to happen if I did. I couldn’t figure out why I cared so much.

But now I do know why.

The goals I set were:

> 1,000 Facebook Fans
> 1,000 Twitter Followers
< 100,000 US Alexa Rank

I became pretty obsessed with these numbers. Just these three. I didn’t care about the numbers for Pinterest, Google+, Bloglovin’ or any of the other 247 social media sites out there. I didn’t even care about my number of email subscribers (which is arguably the most important). But why?

A couple of weeks ago, it was pretty obvious that #1 was not reachable. I was way more bummed about it than I should be. But why?

With only a few days left, I decided I couldn’t throw in the towel. I pulled out all the stops and asked for all the favors possible in a last-ditch effort. I just HAD to get there. But why?

My blogging buddies and real life friends came out in droves to share my page with their followers and friends.

And I made it! The moment I hit 1,000 I immediately went running to my kids to tell them. And THAT was the moment I realized why it mattered so much.

It was the look on their faces.

I spend so much of my time feeling guilty over being the “sick Mom.” The Mom that my kids hear talking about doctor’s appointments and naps and aches and pains. Others get to see the well-rested out-in-public me but my kids have to see the Mom that comes home exhausted. I worry that one day their childhood memories of me will consist of only that.

They never got to see the businesswoman me or the musician me or the anything-that-would-make-them-proud-of-me me. Until Momopolize. They think the blogger me is pretty darn cool.

Facebook fans impress them. Having more Twitter followers than them impresses them. Being ranked in the top 100,000 out of the 650,000,000 websites that exist in the world impresses them (Alexa ranks all websites, not just blogs. Google, Facebook, Amazon and the like are in the top 10.). Yeah, I really have no idea if that is the actual number of websites but that was the number I saw most often in a search and it sounds good to tell them I’m in the top .01%-ish.

So those numbers weren’t important to me because I want to achieve fame and fortune (well, a little fortune would be nice). It wasn’t to get that elusive book deal or attract bigger advertisers (well, yeah that would be nice too.).

Those numbers were important because for that moment I wasn’t sick Mom. I wasn’t even average Mom. In their eyes I was famous Mom. And maybe THAT will be what stays in their memory.

I mean, I KNOW those numbers don’t really mean all that much. I know of widely successful blogs that don’t even have a Twitter account. And others that have a huge Facebook following but only a few of those fans ever click on their blog posts. And my Alexa rank just shows me there must be a whole heck of a lot of websites that never ever ever get viewed. Like, ever! (You’re welcome for the Taylor Swift song that is now stuck in your head.)

But – shhhhhhhh – don’t tell my kids any of that. Let me be famous Mom for just a little longer.

Oh, and in case you are as easily impressed as my kids, when I started writing this my numbers were:

1,047 Facebook Fans
1,772 Twitter Followers
114,117 US Alexa Rank (I didn’t quite make it under 100,000 but we are just going to gloss over that for now and celebrate, k?)

And my goal for the coming year? To Momopolize the entire Blogiverse!!

(Or at least make my kids think I do.)

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P.S. My next post will be more about my first year of blogging and the wonderful community that is out there, including a shout out to those who answered my plea for help on Facebook. (I intended to include that list in this post but have to leave for an appointment for a sick kitty, sorry!)

P.P.S. For those who have been around for a while, you know that 47 is my favorite number (Always has been. No idea why.). Anytime I talk about any kind of numbers, I will add 47 to the end. When I saw my Facebook number was ACTUALLY 1,047 it was like a blog birthday gift. I guess I’m easily impressed also…

Don't ask me about my kids or I will Momopolize the conversation!