Thrust your Hips and Squeeze your Knees Together


I love the Olympics.  Summer and Winter.  Every 2 years, I watch hours and hours of sports during a two week period.  Sports that on a regular basis I don’t have a lot of interest in, but cannot get enough of when they are all crammed together and feature multinational competitors.  There are exceptions, obviously.  I will never have any interest in hockey or long distance running/skiing/skating.  But other things that I would never think to watch at any other time; ice skating, ski jumping, swimming, gymnastics . . . I am zealously invested in during Olympic season.

The interesting thing about watching sports that I do not usually follow is listening to the “expert” commentators.  Each sport seems to have its own language and/or terminology, that most people would not be familiar with if they were not fans or participants of that specific sport.  And sometimes, listening to the commentators talk about specific sports is like listening to a foreign language, even though they are technically speaking English.

Take mogul skiing for example.  I was watching this Olympic event the other night, rooting on the favorite and prior gold medal winner, American Anna Kearney, during her final run.  Sadly, she didn’t accomplish a repeat gold medal win, and had to settle for bronze when she made one little mistake.  That’s really all it takes in these types of highly skilled competitions.


Yet, however disappointing it was to see her heartbroken at coming in third, and her failure to grab another gold medal, there was a silver lining.  Two, actually.  For her, it was the fact that she still gets to bring home an Olympic medal for her country, obviously.  But for me, it was hearing the commentators talk about her run.  Because immediately after her bronze medal run, the commentators went through it again in slow motion and gave a full description of her different moves . . . with the most delightful, unintentionally sexual descriptions of any Olympic event that I think I’ve ever heard.

Here are some of the things that they actually said while describing her run over the mogul hills:

She gets bucked around a little bit but squeezes it back together.

There’s that action, getting her tips on the ground.

Nice tight knees together.

Then thrusting her hips forward . . . pulling her heels back underneath her.  And the effect is a nice steady upper body, quiet head, quiet hands, as she swings her pole tips out.

Is that not the most wonderful description of a sporting event that you’ve ever heard?  I know it was good for me.  In fact, I’m not sure if I should be yelling “U.S.A!  U.S.A!  U.S.A!” or if I should go smoke a cigarette.  I guess I can do both.  I just love sports.

What is your favorite saucy sports terminology?


A 4 Year Old’s Take on the Big Game

4:00 – Mommy and Daddy say we are going to a party later at Aunt Dee’s, so that’s why I have to get an early bath tonight, because we will be home really late.  Baths are fun.  I have Angry Bird Shampoo and Conditioner that I like to use.  I share with my brother, even though sometimes he’s mean and doesn’t share the bath toys with me.  But that’s ok, because sometimes I accidentally splash soapy water in his face while we are taking our bath.  And then he cries.  It’s not nice to not share.

5:00 – Daddy says I have to wear my special purple shirt tonight.  He keeps telling me whose number is on the shirt, but I keep forgetting.  Daddy, stop asking me!  I don’t know.  Just be happy I’m wearing this silly silky thing.

6:00 – When we get to Aunt Dee’s house there are a lot of people there!  I know most of them, since they are my family, especially my little cousins, but some are big and new and scary.  I stay with mommy and daddy as they walk around saying hi.  Mommy says I have to eat now because she doesn’t want to have to focus on me eating when the game is on.  Whatever that means!  She asks if I want some meatballs and some rice stuff.  I think it’s called Jumbo Lya.  She also asks if I want some guacamole and chips, which of course I do.  She tells me not to just eat the chips all up, and to make sure to eat the other food as well.  I tell her I won’t . . . and then I eat every single chip on my plate before touching anything else.  But this rice and shrimp stuff is yummy, too.  And look mommy . . . I can use a chip to scoop up the rice stuff, too!  Can we just use chips instead of spoons from now on for every meal?

6:10 –  I ask mommy for a drink, and she says I can have a juice pouch.  I never get to have juice for dinner!  This is awesome.  Mommy’s drinking some kind of purple juice, so I guess everyone gets to drink juice at this party!

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6:30 – Everyone is getting really excited for the football game on the TV.  I think I’m about done with this food.  I mean, the chips have been gone for ages!  Mom seems kinda distracted, and doesn’t seem to care that I left a lot of food on my plate.  She says I can be done and go play.  Yay!!  I sit down on the floor with my cousins and brother and start watching the football game for a couple of minutes, even though I don’t really care about football all that much, but that’s what everyone else is doing.

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6:35 – Ok, I’m done with football now.  I ask Mommy if she can put more time on the Kindle, even though I usually only get to play for an hour each day.  I ran out of time while I was playing in the car on our way to the party.  But she says I can have more time, and does some magic thing, and yippee I can play my angry birds again.  Game on!!

7:00 – Everybody is being really loud and jumping up and down and high fiving each other.  I guess it’s because of the football.  It’s probably not about me completing this really hard level of Angry Birds.  Maybe if I told them?  I’m sure they’d be just as impressed.

7:01 – They were not very impressed.  Oh well.  I’m having a lot of fun getting to play extra hours of games.  I never get to play this long, so this is really special.  I bet if I sit down here on the floor quietly and play, they won’t even realize I’m playing way more than normal.  All of the adults seem pretty busy yelling and screaming anyway.  Even my brother is interested in the football game, and normally he wants to play this after I’ve had it for a while, but he’s not even saying anything.  So, I get it all to myself!  Best.  Day.  EVER.

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8:00 – I’m getting a little tired of playing Angry Birds.  Which is weird, because I never usually get tired of it.  But I think I’ll go explore.  See what’s going on upstairs.  I think I remember seeing a bunch of toys and stuff to play with up there.  I think I’ll go check it out.

8:05 – Score!  Play-doh.  We don’t have Play-doh at home.  Mommy thinks it’s too messy.  But there is a ton of it here.  And my cousin K, whose house this is, is asking me to come play with her.  Oh boy, I can’t wait to create some beautiful masterpieces.

8:30 – This is so much fun.  I love Play-doh.  I could just sit here making shapes forev . . . wait a minute!  Is that a cat?  Oh man, I want to play with the cat!  I’m gonna chase her and make tst tst tst noises at her and see if she wants to play with me.  Oh!  She’s a really nice kitty and is letting me pet her.  I like this kitty.  She keeps running around the room, and I’m running after her.  This is a fun game.  I reach down to pet her again and . . . ouch!

8:35 – I go down to show mommy where the cat bit me.  Mommy looks at it and asks if I’m ok.  I tell her I am, because it was just a tiny bite and didn’t really hurt very much.  Plus, it’s just a little scratch on my arm.  I even helpfully reenact the kitty biting me by using my own mouth and arm to show mommy.  She kisses my arm to make it all better and tells me to go play, but to maybe leave the kitty alone.  Maybe I’ll play with the Kindle again like my cousins are doing.

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9:00 – I’m tired of the Kindle again.  I ask mommy if I can have another juice, and she tells me to go grab one out of the cooler.  Now I think I need some snacks.  Oooh, crackers!  They have this whole tray of them just sitting out on a low table.  I can just go up and grab as many as I want.  And nobody is saying anything, so it must be ok.  Oh boy . . . there’s the kitty again.  Tst tst tst tst.

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9:15 – The kitty just ran behind that table there with the lamp.  I can probably fit back there to pet him . . . but mommy just noticed me trying to shimmy behind this table and told me to leave the cat alone and stop trying to go behind the table with all the wires.  Hmph!  No fair.  How are kitty and I gonna continue our game?

9:20 – Mommy seems kinda excited.  It looks like she got some money for something.  Oooh, maybe we can go to the dollar store and get some stickers and toys!!  I wonder how many dollars we have to buy things there . . .

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9:30 – Mommy just asked me if I was getting tired.  She says it’s getting late and is way past my bedtime.  But I’m not tired yet.  I think I’ll grab another juice pouch.  Mmmm, juice.

9:45 – Oh!  There’s the kitty again.  She just came out from behind the table and is running across the room.  Oh no, she went behind the TV!  Mommy just yelled for me to not go behind the TV, either.  That mommy sure isn’t any fun sometimes.

10:00 – YAWNNN.  Ok, now maybe I’m getting a little tired.  I wonder when we are going home?  Maybe I’ll just eat some more of these crackers.  Yep, much better.  Hey, my brother is on the couch . . . I think I’ll go jump on him!  Oh boy, now we’re both just bouncing on the couch.  This is so much fun!  Uh-oh, daddy just saw us jumping and told us to calm down.  Drats!  Just when I was having some fun.  Guess I’ll go play the Kindle again.

10:40 – Mommy and daddy say it’s finally time to go home.  That’s good, because I was getting pretty bored.  I think I’ll just have a couple more crackers before I go, though.  Wouldn’t want them to go to waste.  And maybe another juice pouch?  Oh.  Mommy says no more juice for me this late.  Man, no fun!  Oh but, um, yay Ravens!!  Now . . . where’s the Kindle?

11:00 – Mommy says no more Kindle in the car because I’ve played all night.  Boo.

11:15 – Finally home and getting ready for bed.  Mommy is going to bed, too.  She says she has to get up super early tomorrow morning.  GOOD NIGHT, MOMMY!!  LOVE YOU LOTS AND LOTS AND LOTS.  Hee hee hee.  Mommy thinks I’m silly.  I get in bed, but I’m not even tired!    I want to just play with my toys and read books and . . . and . . . zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Happy Christmaqwanzestivusukkah!!


So, like most people around these parts, I have contracted a bad case of VD the holidays.  It has been all holly jolly fa la la in and around my homestead as of late.  A few more days, and it will all be over.  And hopefully I can take a nap!  But until then . . . let me take you for a little stroll down the holiday hell lane I have been strolling along with my family and friends this last week.

We start our journey with the yearly tradition of cookie making.  Otherwise known as the day in which I have flour from head to toe and find some in crevices of my body in which baking ingredients should never be found.  Ahem.  Anyway . . . cookies.  I signed up to bring cookies to the office Christmas party this year (more on that to come), and my kids love baking cookies around the holidays, so last weekend was the official cookie making fandango. 

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I ROLLED that dough. Rolled it! I am the freaking cookie queen!

Now, here’s the thing . . . I am one lazy SOB.  GASP!!  Yes, I know this is a huge surprise to you, I’m sure. But seriously, when I make cookies with my kids, it usually starts with those little pre-made packs you buy at the grocery store to which you just add eggs and voila!  Instant cookies.  Either that, or the most lazy of the laziness, the frozen already sectioned into little balls of dough, cookies.  Those are my favorites!  So very easy, and no floury powdery stuff to have to mop up.  But this year . . . oh ho this year . . . I decided to get all Martha Stewart on those cookie asses and whipped up not one, but two batches of different homemade motherfucking cookies.  Using ingredients and shit.  What the hell is wrong with me?

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And while the shapes of trees and bears and hearts and stars are all well and good, I was a bit sad that I didn’t have these to make the most epic cookies EVER:


NINJABREAD MEN!!  How awesome would that have been?  Alas, I will have to settle for boring old holiday themed cookie shapes for this year’s cookie extravaganza.  Sigh.  Well, there’s always next year, I guess. 

Next stop on our holiday train ride (yes, it’s a train now, hush!) . . . classic holiday shows.  We’ve already been over my love for A Christmas Story, which I haven’t actually seen yet this year because, duh, TBS Christmas Day marathon!  But every day my kids have watched a different movie, so it’s been a perpetual loop of holiday classics on the TV at all times!  Rudolph, Frosty, ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas (that’s the one with the mice and the clock, love it!), Santa Claus is Coming to Town and, of course, the plethora of “holiday themed” Disney Jr. shows that we have had to watch as well.  And while that is all well and good . . . mommy prefers a little bit different Christmas fare. 

I haven’t had the chance to watch Elf yet, but I actually purchased it this year and will get to it this weekend (I hope).  It’s been years since I’ve seen it, and I think I’m due.  Then, of course, there was the SNL Christmas special that was on last week.  Two hours chock full of classic and recent holiday skits from that (sometimes) hysterical show.  Which brings us to my personal favorite SNL skit of all time . . . Dick in a Box!  When it came on TV, I actually rewound it and watched it 3 more times, then ran downstairs and played it for the hubs.  Not that we both haven’t seen it a million times before, because seriously, Dick in a Box.  But it was so worth a refresher.  I crack the fuck up every single time I see it.  Every.  Single.  Time.  If you have never seen it, please do yourself a favor and watch this NOW (maybe not at work if your boss is kind of a dick . . . in or out of a box).  You can thank me later.  You will not be disappointed.  Unless you hate to laugh.  Cuz then, well, yeah.

D in a Box

Click on picture to watch video.

Now that you have had your daily fix of hilarity, let’s move on along to today’s festivities, and the reason I had to make all those damn cookies . . . my office holiday party.


Oh, the office holiday party.  If you recall my previous posts, where I bitched and moaned about being forced to be the office party planner, and how I renounced that title after last year’s trifecta of parties, you can imagine how much I was looking forward to this upcoming event.  Thankfully, one of my close friends in the office took the reigns (knowing finally that I was serious when I said I was retired), and has run with it.  I have helped a little, but mainly have stayed out of it.  Of course, her being a damn elf and all, people have run to her to give her money and sign up for items to bring, not in any way necessitating any follow-up on her part.  Unlike my previous multiple personal and memo specific requests, which were summarily ignored.  But oh no, not her.  One memo and people are lining up to do what they were asked to do.  Sigh.  Not really sure what that says about my previous career in party planning, but we’ll just leave it at me being happy I don’t have to do it anymore.  And what else am I happy about?  Booze.  Yep, the holiday party includes copious amounts of alcohol, both to drink at the party, and usually as the items exchanged in the White Elephant gift exchange.  So at least I have that to look forward to!  Pretty sure I won’t be getting much work done after noon today.  Suck it employers!!



I mean . . . and a Festive Winter Solstice to you and yours!!

Wait . . . damn.  Um, Happy Hanukkah?  Er, maybe it’s Joyous Qwanza?  Festivus for the rest of us?

Yeah, whatever it is you celebrate (or don’t) around these parts, I hope you have a Merry Happy Joyous good one.


At least it’s not coal . . .

The Schticky

I have young kids.  And I am pretty good at making sure that if they are watching television, it is either something kid friendly, or at least not the Kardashians or Real Housewives, where every other word is Bitch or Ass.  I’m not keen on my kids picking up new and colorful phrases from reality stars, thanks.  My oldest watches a couple shows with me in the evening when his little brother has gone to bed, but they are mostly things I have DVR’d for us to watch, like Restaurant Impossible, So You Think You Can Dance or Dancing with the Stars.  Mostly, those shows keep it clean.  Also, if they are shows I have recorded, it gives me the added opportunity to zip through the commercials so that 1) we don’t have to deal with that crap, and 2) he doesn’t see things that he wants me to buy for him.

Well, that all changed when we were watching a live program one evening and were subjected to porn in the form of an infomercial.  We were innocently watching some horse racing, as his dad is into that kind of thing, and really it was just kinda filler in the background, as there wasn’t anything else really on to watch.  So, just hanging out as a family, watching stats about the upcoming race scroll across the screen, when they cut to commercial.  And that is when all innocence was shattered.  We were introduced to Vince Offer, and his schticky:

The Schticky

Here are some of the images that probably scarred my poor seven year old child for life.  (See if you can guess which phrases were actually said in the commercial):

You can clean your home in a quicky, when you use your schticky.

My schticky is this big.

Who needs a man?  Use the schticky to feel yourself up!!

Problem with that shedding pussy?

Slippery when wet, schticky when dry.

Hey Vince!  Oh, you’re playing with your schticky.  I’m sorry.

Use schticky anytime, anyplace and with anyone.  (Especially with the stewardess in the airplane bathroom while your wife is sleeping).

You’re gonna like the little schticky . . .

. . . but you’re gonna LOVE the BIG SCHTICKY!

Big schticky, regular schticky and little schticky for one low price . . . gang bang, anyone??

No thank you, Vince.  I do not want to purchase your schticky.  And I would greatly appreciate it if you would keep your schticky safely tucked into the pay per program sex stations that my husband and I scroll through in the TV’s Guide and make fun of.  Quit waving your schticky around for young children to get a gander at, you pedophile.  Nobody wants to see it!  Don’t make me call Chris Hansen on your ass.


Any suggestive or mildly pornographic commercials/infomercials you have been molested by lately?  Have you ever experienced Vince’s tiny schticky?  Was it good for you?

Anatomy of a Day Off

This past friday I decided to take a day off from work.  I took a personal day because I needed to try to be a person for one day.  As opposed to an attorney dealing with the myriad of bullshit I wade through on a daily basis.  So, this is my run down of how to achieve the perfect day off:



This is a crucial first step.  You must start the day without an alarm blaring you awake into the cold cruel world.  This step is also enhanced by the fact that your kids are with their grandparents for the week, the hubs is still in Brazil and the au pair is in San Francisco, so there is nobody there to possibly wake you before, say . . . 9:00.



See, once you wake from your comfortable slumber, you can’t just rush into action.  No, that is a rookie mistake.  You must face the world in a leisurely fashion.  You have a long day ahead of you.  You don’t wanna strain something so early-ish in your day!  Once you have brewed some coffee (we’ll call that step 1 & 1/2), you need to run a nice warm bubble bath, get yourself a book, and settle in for some relaxation.  This will be especially lovely as there will be nobody there to disturb you by barging in mid-bath, or by asking “how much longer do you think you’re gonna be?”  Please also refer to this step as:  HEAVEN.


This is also a crucial step, as it is currently sandal season, your poor toes are in desperate need of a new shellacking, and really, when else are you gonna have the chance to sit in a salon in the middle of the day watching TV and getting your legs messaged?

Once you enter and hear those fateful words . . . “Peek a Cah-lah” . . . you briefly consider getting this shade, in honor of your friend Darla over at She’s a Maineiac:


But decide that it is just a little too Mauve for your taste.  You end up going with an old favorite:


Which is a bit more pinkish/reddish and matches the spring-like weather and your personal preference.  Once your color is “peeked,” you sit in a comfy massage chair with your tootsies soaking in warm water.  Ahhhhh. 

The TV is playing Days of Our Lives, which you marvel at the fact that since the last time you watched this show, oh about 15 years ago, none of the characters have changed or apparently even aged.  The girl doing your nails also remarks that since she started watching about that long ago, everything is the same.

Hello, Victor.


Hey there! Pay attention to the feetsies, please.

Then, while your nails are being painted, you realize that Ellen is now on, which you never see because you are always at work, so you get a little excited, because Ellen is the bomb dot com!


Then you get a lot less excited when you hear that her guest is Russell Brand.  Blech.  What a douchecanoe!

But . . . you now have pretty toes at least . . . once they are done drying anyway:


Since all you’ve consumed today was a cup of coffee in the AM, you are realizing that you are starting to get a mite bit hungry.  Which is good, because you also coincidentally need to go to Costco to pick up a bunch of jumbo sized items, and this is about the time where they start giving out samples, so you know that you will be fed.  Huzzah!

Once you arrive, the first food station you see offers some peanuts:

Ok, fine.  We’ll call that a starter snack to get your stomach prepped for the oncoming onslaught of tasty goodies in store for you.  No problem.  Nuts are good.

The next 2 food posts you encounter give you a cracker with cream cheese and some spicy salsa stuff on it, and a little cup of salad:

Wait.  Did someone call ahead and tell them I was on a diet?  Because this rabbit food will not do.  I’m gonna need some real stuff soon.  I don’t go to Costco to eat salad.  I could have made one of those at home, thank you.

Next item . . . yogurt:

Ok, seriously . . . what is with the damn diet foods?  There better be some pizza rolls or something soon or it’s not gonna be pretty.  Let’s see what’s next, shall we?

Cereal?  Are you kidding me?  Ok, shit’s about to get real up in he-ah.  I am about done with this crazy “good for you” crap.  I need real food.  Ok Costco, you get one more shot to get it right, or it’s going to get apocalyptic in about a minute.  Let’s see what the next station has to offer . . .

NOW we’re talking!!  That’s a pita pocketed cheeseburger.  Nom nom nom.

French Fries?  Oh hell yeah!  You should consider yourself lucky, Costco.  You just barely saved yourself with these items.  I will put the flamethrower back into my purse now.  You were this close though, you know that right? 

Next up was a continuation of more delectable food items:

Pulled pork.


Naan with melted Provolone.


Salmon . . . yummy!


And for dessert . . . raspberry cream cheese pastry!

Then, you must pick up a treat for all your hard work shopping at this mega superstore . . . mixed fruit smoothie to wash all those treats down:

Then after all that hard work you have done during the day, you make your way home.  It is around this time that your husband should be home from his trip and waiting for you.  Which leads us to . . .


Obviously at this point, you deserve to be rewarded for all the hard work you have done all day.  And since your husband has been in Brazil and Argentina for a week, while you stayed home all by your lonesome and trudged through your days going to your hateful job (which refuses to fly you to any exotic locales, no matter how much you try to convince them that sending you to a conference in Paris will help you better serve the citizens of Baltimore!), of course, you will deserve some rewards.  And rewards you shall receive!!



The thing on the upper left is a mask. Not sure what you are supposed to be doing with booze and a blindfold?

Ah yes, welcome home hubs.  Not only did he bring home treats from afar, mainly consisting of booze related products . . . he also returned with a new recipe for a drink, which he proceeded to whip up a batch of. 

Caipirinha. Yummy!


Yeah, so this part wasn’t exactly a planned activity, but we happened upon this special about this guy, a descendent of the Flying Walendas apparently, who was planning on walking across a tightrope wire strung across Niagara Falls.  We watched the proceeding special which showed his grandfather plummeting to his death in a similar attempt on a wire strung between two buildings in Puerto Rico many years ago.  We were somewhat intrigued.  And a little exited to see the possibility of a guy facing the same fate as his grandfather, not gonna lie.  Not sure what that says about us, but I think it’s best to leave that unexcavated for now.

So after all this build up, he starts his trek across the falls.  Which is the point where we notice that he is actually tethered to the rope!  At that point, it lost most of it’s thrill.  I mean, even if he falls, the only thing that will be hurt is his pride.  Not that I am in any way wishing for this guy to be harmed or die or anything, but when you build it up as this great feat that other members of his family perished while attempting, it just lessens the suspense factor when he is hooked in by a harness is all.  

Anyway, he made it across just fine, didn’t fall or anything, and I’m sure it was very difficult and quite the accomplishment for him.  Next time, though, I’ll probably watch something else. 


What do YOU like to do on your day off to make it perfect?  Did I miss anything?


Last call for your own weekly whacked pictures.  If you have them, send them on over to mistyslaws at gmail dot com by Wednesday.  If you haven’t taken any yet, what are you waiting for???  Get to snapping and send them to me so you can be prominently displayed on Friday for your talented ability to capture the absurd all around you. 

Also, if you are actually working on a portrait of me as I requested last week, just let me know.  I like to have that divine feeling of anticipation.  🙂

Welcome to 2007!!

I have two boys, aged 3 and 6.  And even though they are boys, I have never previously bought them any gaming systems.  I never got them an Xbox 360 or Playstation or Wii.  No Nintendo DS or any handheld games.  The only thing I got my oldest son was a V-Reader, but that is more of a story reader type thing.

I’ve been trying to avoid the inevitable.  The glassy eyed staring at a TV for all hours of the day, playing games in which they are chasing and shooting and blowing up other characters on the screen.  They are boys.  I know that eventually they are going to want to play those types of violent shooting killing games.  Is it too much to ask that we delay that until they are teenagers?  That’s not unreasonable, right?

Well, recently my oldest has been interested in computer games.  First, it started with some basic free games he played on the computer while his dad was working in his office.  Soccer or Tetris type games.  Nothing violent and nothing that involved playing other people through the computer.  But recently, he has become obsessed with these games.  He wakes up in the morning and it is the first thing he wants to do.  When I check to see what types of games he is playing, I see that he is playing something where a shark is leaping out of the water to kill people in boats and blow up ships.  (To which he tells me that he is trying to avoid the boats with people and if he does blow them up, he is only getting the bad guys).  I see banner ads on the bottom of the screen which say “Do you like this game  YES  NO” which my son would never know was an ad that would take him to another site if he clicks on it.  I fear him finding a game where there is someone else out there that he is playing against.  I fear predators.  And I fear he is obsessed with being on the computer.

So, the hubs and I decided it was finally time to get a system.  We needed to be able to control our son’s playing time and what he was playing.  We thought maybe for my son’s birthday in June.  But while the hubs was away last week, I realized how obsessed my kid was with the computer games and realized that we needed to get a system immediately.  I happened to mention this to a colleague who was moving and she told me that she would be willing to sell me her Wii because she never used it anymore.  She not only had the Wii, but the Fit and a bunch of games and she gave me all of it for a very good deal.

So, as of Sunday afternoon, we finally were part of the Wii-nation.  Woo-hoo!!  We are so current and with the times, y’all.  I might have to celebrate by doing the Dougie and wearing my Jams!  My son has already been playing all of the games, and of course his favorite is the shooting tanks game.  Great.  Problem solved, right?  I personally like the fishing game and the riding the cows game (see how technical I am now?) and even the pool game, but I sort of suck at that one.  Oh well, I only just started.  I am looking forward to trying some of the Fit stuff and even the Zumba I borrowed from my secretary.  Maybe I can play my way to a smaller ass along with keeping my son from becoming a computer playing zombie.  Win-win?

Although, according to the hubs when I talked to him this morning, we are of course now having issues with the stupid thing.  Maybe because it has been sitting unplayed for a year and it needs to be updated/cleaned/wiped?  I don’t know.  But a couple of the games are not working, including one completely brand new plastic sealed one, so I know it’s not the games.  Hmmm.  Anyone else have any issues with their Wii and any tips they can share?  I know I’m pretty much the last person on the planet to get one of these things so I’m hoping all of you more experienced people out there (yes, I just called you all Wii-sluts), can help a sister out.  My son is already obsessed with the thing and I would hate to have to give it back because it doesn’t work so much.  I mean . . . we already made our Mii’s and everything!!

The Biggest Loser: Is this safe?

As I have previously discussed on this blog, I am a TVaholic. I love me some down time after a long day of work and kid duties, where I veg in front of the boob tube watching some show I have previously DVR’d. And as I have also noted, sometimes my 6 year old son watches some of those shows with me. It is our together time. Should I be playing a board game or something with him to enrich his young mind? Probably. I do that on occasion. But mama is tired in the evenings, and if I can spend some time with my oldest while also killing off one of the megajillion shows I have queued in ye olde DVR, that is a score in my book. I usually limit the show we watch to some sort of reality competition type show that has some entertainment value, but without vulgarity or cussing. You probably won’t be surprised to hear this, but those types of shows are extremely hard to find. So yeah, Jersey Shore and Real Housewives are out. Thus far the approved shows that I also want to watch and are ok for him as well are Dancing with the Stars and the X Factor (that second one more for him than me, really).

However, during the last season of The Biggest Loser, at the end part where they are all skinny and in shape, he caught some of the episodes and was hooked. Figuring “how bad can this be, really?” I had no problem with him watching some of those shows with me while I was watching them. But now a new season is upon us. It is the beginning of the season where everyone is extremely large and flabby. We watched the first hour of the first show of this season together. And I think that might have been a huge mistake.

Now, if you have never seen this show, the first episode is basically weight loss boot camp. The trainers get these tubs o’ lard into the gym, which most have probably never seen the interior of before, and break their spirits with lots of yelling and forced extreme physical exertion. People pass out. There is lots of puking. Falling off of treadmills. Basically, it is like some sort of warzone in that place.

Work It!!

I apparently had forgotten how screamy and violent that first show can be. So, I am watching this with my young son, and realizing that this might not be the most appropriate show for him to be watching. Did I mention there is an old dude on it this year that looks like Santa? He is there with Mrs. Claus his wife, and they are the red team. Yeah, one week after Xmas. So, this dude passes out on the floor during his workout and has to be tended to by medical professionals, while Mrs. Claus his wife looks on worriedly. Damn. This show done killed Santa and I sat here allowing my son to watch this hot mess. Parent of the year right here!

Ho Ho Oh my back!!

My original thought on this was that the show actually teaches good values. The value of being physically fit versus being a big fat lazy schlub. The value of working out and training to improve yourself. The value of teamwork and striving for goals. Seems valid, right? Well, apparently that is when you get past the first couple of Imma-kill-you-with-fitness episodes.

The other issue is that I think he might be too young to really understand or even have to deal with the concept of “overweight” and “dieting.” You see, his father and I are both overweight. There is no getting around it. We have been ever since he has known us. We have pretty much been on some sort of diet our entire lives as well. For as long as I have had children, we have never really had a family meal. Maybe a couple on rare occasions. But, because the hubs and I are usually on some restrictive diet, and usually different ones at that, I make dinner for the kids only, then the hubs and I each make our own dinner after they are in bed. My son has never known it any other way, so it is not strange to him. He is used to mommy and daddy eating separately and different foods from him.

But recently, say in the last 6 months or so, I have gotten very lax on my diet. I have gained a good amount of weight. Now, don’t get me wrong, I would still be considered “skinny” compared to the Biggest Loser contestants (at the beginning, anyway), but I am by no means within an ideal weight. So, I have resolved to get back into it, back on the wagon, so to speak, and stop munching on the noodles and chicken nuggets and pizza and mac & cheese, etc. that I make for the kiddies, and instead stick to my own boring but more nutritious foods. Salads, lean proteins, more salads, NO NOODLES!! (Damn, I love me some pasta. Sigh).

Anyway, so I mentioned something about this last week, about how I was going to start trying to eat healthier and was going to stop eating all the crap I had been eating. My son heard me and asked what this meant. Offhandedly, I said that it meant mommy was gonna have to stop eating pizza and chicken nuggets, etc. that I make for their dinners. He looked confused. It wasn’t until later that I realized I inadvertently told him that the dinners I make for him every night are “unhealthy.” Sigh. Parenting fail.

Then, fast forward a couple days later and my son is watching a show where very huge people are killing themselves trying to get “healthy.” I’m really not trying to scar my son, I swear. It’s just natural talent is what it is.

The thing is, my kids are not overweight. While I do make a lot of pizza and chicken nuggets and TONS of noodles (what can I say? They take after their momma in their love of pasta), I also make chicken and fish and turkey burgers and roasted turkey, etc. And LOTS of fruits and veggies. I also completely limit their intake of sugar and salt and candy and junk food. My kids do not drink soda. The only time they have juice is for breakfast. They have never once had a Big Mac or Chicken McNuggets (that I know of. I would kill the hubs!). We don’t eat fast food, unless you count Chik-Fil-A, which I don’t because it’s real chicken, unlike whatever processed abomination comprises the McNugget. Basically, my kids are healthy-ish. (And I am in no way making a commentary on anyone else’s parenting skills if you do in fact feed your kids Mickey D’s.  I am just trying to make the point that I at least try to limit processed, unhealthy foods for my kids.  Mostly).

But, I fear, there will be a time where their heritage and genes will kick in, and they too will be unable to escape the overweight monster. I am doing my best as a parent to instill in them good eating habits, even if it is do as I say and serve you for dinner, and not as I do when I stuff my face, nom nom nom. But, I don’t want them to have to fear this yet, or even worry about health or weight or any of that at this young age. And by watching this show, which deals solely and specifically with all of that, coupled with the badly timed mention of the diet of yours truly, I feel like I might be starting my son down the path of no return.

So, I guess my question is this: By allowing him to watch this show with me (which I will continue watching but can watch after he goes to bed), am I just spending some quality time with my son or am I scarring him for life?  Weigh in!


By the way . . . Misty’s Laws now has it’s very own Facebook page!!  Very exciting, right?  Anyway, since I suffer from debilitatingly low self esteem, you would really make my day if you “liked” me.  Please????  Only if you really wanna, though.  No pressure or anything.  😀

TV Overload


Ok, I admit it.  My name is Misty and I am a TVaholic.  “Hi Misty!!”  I watch entirely too much television, and most of it is crappy reality shows.  I get somewhat complacent during the summer months because there are really only a few shows that I watch during that time period, and I start getting lazy about my TV watching.  I start doing things like making plans to go out with people.  Spending more time with my children.  Going to bed early and getting a good night’s sleep.  

Well, thank goodness that madness has now come to an end!  I am now back off the wagon for my TV addiction.  The Fall TV season is upon us people!!

If you are like me, you anxiously await the fall edition of Entertainment Weekly.  You know the one.  The one I subscribe to the entire magazine for.  The one I wait through 51 less worthy editions to arrive at my home sometime in early September.  The one that when I finally get it in the mail, I run to my favorite chair, magazine in hand, and chart out every show that I plan to watch during the upcoming season.  Pen and notebook in hand, I read through that magazine like it is the dead sea scrolls about to impart some much longed for wisdom.  I slowly peruse the articles for the new shows to see if I may be interested in them.  I see where they moved around my old shows, if they are now on different nights and times.  I chart and graph and list.  I start with Sunday and work my way through the week.  I write down the time, the show name, the network and the start date.  I do this for every single show that I want to watch.  This way, I know if I have too many shows scheduled for one day and have to go up to the bedroom DVR to schedule any “extra” shows.  I then make sure I program every single show with a season pass on my DVR so I don’t miss a single second of any of my TV shows.

Beautiful, no?

See, the above list doesn’t even include 4 or 5 shows that I either already have scheduled and don’t need to list (The Soup, Top Chef, Project Runway, The Closer), or ones I added after I heard some good buzz (Up All Night, 2 Broke Girls) or a random show here or there that I schedule for the bedroom and probably won’t get to watch for a while (Unforgettable).

Ok, folks.  Herein lies the problem.  I have a full time job.  I have 2 young boys.  Granted, I don’t really have a social life, which is good for my TV watching addiction, but really there just are not enough hours in the day to watch every thing I want to watch and also do all the things that need to get done at work and around the house.  My DVRs get very full very fast.  This is a problem.  How do I solve this problem?

Well, some might say that I just need to pare down the amount of television that I watch.  To those silly people I say, “Pffftt!!”  Those people are now dead to me.  Really, what I need to do is either work less or spend less time with my children.  Or do less housework.  Or all three!!!

Yes, I do feel that I just need to make more time for my one true love . . . that glowing, speaking beauteous creature sitting in my living room and giving me the pure joy of distraction and saturation in another less hectic and stressful world.  I think that will be the solution.  And more wine.  Obviously.  Ahh, yes . . . I feel I am well on my way to being cured.

What are your addictions?  How do you find extra time in the day for them?

The Eye of the Storm

Having just gotten through the entire weekend’s coverage of Hurricane Irene, and the non-stop media reporting of the pending category 1 storm and the after effects of said storm, I found something quite jarring.  The blatant lack of self-preservation which apparently is inherent in reporters during a massive storm.  There are tons of these reporters, just standing out in the middle of this hurricane, holding a metal microphone and reporting on the storm’s effects.  The absolute disregard for their own personal safety just so that they can report an as-it-happens first hand account of the storm is absolutely ridiculous.  I just do not comprehend the thought process that goes along with this.  Does it go something like this:

News Agency Honcho:  “Hey guy/girl that wants to be a reporter!  Here’s your big break . . . take this microphone and cameraman and get on out there.  Talk about what’s happening.  Oh, don’t worry, you’ll be fine.  Here’s a parka and a hat.  Oh, don’t forget to sign this waiver and next of kin notification.  You know, just your basic stuff.  Yes, I know they have evacuated the entire city/island/shore, but that doesn’t apply to press.  Think of it this way, you’ll either be on TV or DIE.  But either way, you’ll be famous.  What do you say?”

Reporter/sacrificial lamb:  “Sounds GREAT!!  Give me that microphone.  Let’s do this!!!”

Then they stand outside, in the middle of a fucking hurricane, with no other protection but that stupid parka and sometimes a hat, which they are usually trying to hold on to their head so it doesn’t blow away, and talk about something that you could report on while standing inside looking out a window!  Sometimes they can barely stand.  They are getting blown here and there, and still they stay outside.  They are usually completely drenched, soaked to the bone.  And still, they stand outside.  They talk about the rain, the wind, the destruction, the flooding, and the fact that every other person in the general vicinity of their area has been evacuated!!  Except for them and their cameraman that is.  They are hard core.  They are true journalists.  They are idiots.

This weekend I watched as a man reported on the flooding in an area.  He stood in thigh high water while grasping onto a fence so that he would not float away.  That is dedication.  Thank god I saw that, because if you had not stood in the middle of that flood, I never would have figured out that there was water that high.  I mean, you could have shown me the water rushing by a house or car for depth, but no.  You are a professional.  By golly, you will stand in that thigh high water until it gently washes your nether regions to show us the true depth and effects of this storm!  You will hang onto a fence with one hand while holding a microphone in another to prove just how hard core you are.  You are so brave, you stupid douchewad.

There was one guy reporting in front of dunes on the beach in the dark with no electricity, with his car headlights providing the only lighting for him, while the sand and rain pounded him in the back (and consequently right into the camera guy’s face).  You couldn’t see anything, but he still stood outside reporting.  He stated that the hotel they were staying in, right beside them, had floor to ceiling windows looking out on the beach.  Still he stood outside.  Why?  Because he is a hard ass obviously.  Because for some reason there is a requirement for reporters to stand in the middle of the goddamn eye of the storm to show people how bad it is out there.  To show them that only morons would go outside during a hurricane?  Well, maybe that’s it then.

Obviously I am having a difficult time understanding the mindset of these fucktards who feel the need to stand in the middle of a weather catastrophe to “report” on the weather condition.  I do believe this is why we have windows.  Or those cameras that are mounted on buildings.  Or, just maybe, we can just look outside on our own and see that it is raining . . . and keep our asses inside!

Ok, I’m done ranting now.  But speaking of crazy people out in the rain and reporters, check out this video.  It’s pretty hysterical: