Just Spanx Me!

Tis the season to suck it up, suck it in and be happy about it. This holiday season I will get to wear the cocktail dress I bought last year for the John's company Christmas party. He ended up out of town so the drapey sparkly dress has hung under it's plastic sheath for a year now. I suppose I could have sold it on Ebay, the heading could read Black Dress/w sparkles NWT. 

I had forgot about the dress and have been perusing for it's kind online. I would have felt kind of silly had I purchased another dress for the same event. But I could have told my husband I was prepared for anything to happen. Had he seen the company lushes? What if a sloper's wife tripped over her cheap stilettos and dumped her cosmo all down my front. By golly, I'd be ready for that. Just a quick run to the suite and I'd be good as new. Much better than the bimbo with a twisted ankle and a soon to be morning after hangover.

Having found and tried on the NWT black dress/w sparkles I realized that my Spanx were a must. Obviously the elastine has worn out from lack of use.  They just didn't seem to be holding in like they used to, so I measured my waist. Then in desperation I  put on a pair over the first. Feeling like a stuffed sausage, but resembling a large taupe potato, I could feel the burning sensation arising. I did indeed have Spanx induced heartburn and as I reached for the Tums I could hear myself breathing heavily. This is not the image I want to portray to myself or any other unsuspecting victims that may look my way. All this suffering has taken away two whole inches off my waist. There must be a better way.

Back online I go. This time to search for an under garment that can withstand the test of time. 

Spanx.com of course. With it's plethora of tan or black bondages, how could I not find the perfect one? My first thought into this foray of elastine and nylon is why do they use skinny, waifs to model these garments?  Want to impress, show me a before and after of a woman that needs a sausage suit.  
Now, I need to figure out which one. Tank, bra, no bra, racer shorts, slip. Men's line? Really? Forget that, I go straight to Super Duper. No joke. It's on the site, just for girls like myself, that need to move beyond Super. Not even sure why someone would bother with Medium, ha, suckers!  Maybe they have layerd themselves XL,L then M. If anyone buys three Spanx in shrinking sizes, do they get a free pack of Tums?

The website is overwhelming and I can't decide if the boob containment center or boob free garments are the right fit for me. This is going to require a trip to Nordstrom's along with talcum powder, tums, wine and a friend. Best to have fun while purchasing a sausage suit than to begrudge the process. After all, it is the holidays.
 
 

Mother's Day of Rekoning.

5:30 am: Taking Pugsley for her morning "walk" in the bushes. Knowing at any minute we will both be devoured by one of last years neigborhood bears, I think about the coroner for Timothy Treadwell and how he wryly dictated into a mic the contents of the bears stomach.
I can just imagine how Dr.Fallico would have described me. Ah yessss, blue threads consistent with a natty, worn bathrobe. Blue rubber chunks with flowers, yessss appears to be Bogs, possible size 7. Victim Number 1 obviously cared about her appearance, as she coordinated her footwear with her outerwear perfectly.

5:45 am: Back from surviving near bear attack. Back in bed, with dog. Hopefully she is putting her dirty little paws all over John's empty pillow. Bring back the sleep.

6:15 am:  Jack quietly creeps into the room only to loudly announce that he would like me to put in the password on the computer, because his penguin is in dire need of help.

6:16 am: Go back to bed Jack, it's 6:16 in the morning. Sunday morning. Stomp, stomp, stomp up the stairs he went. The tone for the day has been set and there is no remedy.

7:15 am: Trudge upstairs with Pugsley. Turn down Pokemon. Have lethal thoughts of euthanizing Pikachu.

7:30 am: Does anyone want sausage and eggs for breakfast. Ooooh me, me. I hear happy boys chant.

7:45 am:" Sausage, you made sausage? Are you out of your mind? How could you do this to me! Of all days, sausage, you give me sausage". I am feeling like the dog needs another walk and I get another shot at being devoured by a bear and not a gnarly eight year old.

Fast forward through a morning of boys arguing, teasing and being plain nasty. Except for the cheerios and coffee Brodie served to me on a cookie sheet.

10:15 am: Brodie kindly goes to fetch the dog out of the boggy wet bushes after she does her duty and steps knee deep into a giant pile of dog poop. Not normal poo. I know who's poo this is and it doesn't belong from any dog at my house. This is neighbor dog poo and it's nasty! Poor Brodie, calmly walks out of the bushes, gently sets Pugsley down and proceeds to take of his boots, with neighbor's nasty dog poo all over his bare legs(he was wearing shorts). Leaving boots for Daddy to deal with when he arrives home. 

12:00 pm: It's time to go to riding lessons! Yeah, you like riding horses. I like watching you be happy, let's go be happy!

12:01 pm: I don't really want to ride today, maybe tomorrow. Tomorrow is a school day. Today is happy riding day. Let's go! blah blah blah Okay, I am buying McDonald's for the 45 minute ride to happy horse lessons.

12:12 pm: Oh no, my fries! MY FRIES! First sausage and now this! Fries are now officially feeding the cootie bugs that dwell on the Fuelinator's floor boards.

1:00pm Mickey, I want to ride Sierra.I am not going to ride Mickey. But you rode Sierra last week it's Brodie's turn to ride Sierra. NO.....huge tantrum. 

1:09 pm: Brodie is happily learning to stand and gallop. Jack is learning that Equine Therapy Autistic Camp leaders, won't be having any of your stompy, yelling, hissing fits. You young man are going to ride on that horse. And he did. And he frowned the whole hour.

3:00 pm: Boys, Mommy needs to put her feet up for just a few minutes. But what about Club Penguin? Aren't we going to plant the flowers? If their not tomatoes I am not planting them. This coming from a child who has never, ever eaten a tomato that wasn't sauce or ketchup. What about Diary of a Wimpy Kid?

4:30 pm: Boys, Boys, argue argue. Go to your room. Honey if the puppy is biting your leg you shouldn't put her up to your face, your lip will feel better, yes, I am sure.

6:45 pm: One boy sent to bed early for hitting.

6:50 pm: My throat hurts when I swallow my spit or cough. 100 degree temp.Tylenol, water, jammies, teeth, bed. Fingers crossed his cooties go away and this house stays quiet until morning. And I mean mommy morning time, not puppy morning
time.

8:00 pm: Just noticed the Floorboard Fries. 

Pro-American

No matter how many anti-gun liberals were elected and no matter how many heart felt stories were bled onto our congress, the American people, our Congress decided to vote for the rights of the people

Big guns, little guns, red guns, blue guns, loud guns, silenced guns, revolving guns, semi auto, full auto, oh hell we better get the hell out of here guns. Let's fill our freezer with meat for the winter guns and I am going to save my family from the intruder guns. We are safe from ourselves for now. All are lethal. All are legal.

Why? Why is something so dangerous legal to our citizens? Wouldn't it be easier to just take the guns away and then we would all be safe? From whom? Ourselves, the dutifully registered gun owners. The hunters, providing meat for their families. The home owner protecting his family from the escaped felon breaking into his first floor window. Should he not protect his family. Will 911 work? Will they be there in time to protect his wife and children?
Guns will always have a place in American Society. Hopefully a responsible place. A place of respect and acknowledgement of the dangers. Not, video game hype. Let's teach the children of American the difference between video game violence and real violence.  Guns kill. Maybe this should be a part of  the school health class curriculum, parents included?

I am not pro-gun, I am pro-rights. I believe the United States Government should not have to give me the right to own a firearm, I believe it is my right as a law abiding citizen to own one, should I choose. I am Pro-American.