Monday, June 24, 2013

Warms the Cockles of My Heart

And who doesn't love warm cockles, right?

Do you ever read a new story or watch a news segment and start to think that maybe good does conquer evil?  Maybe there are more decent people in this world than bad?

Doesn't happen all that often, right?

Last week I watched Rock Center with Brian Williams and cried happy tears after seeing the segment on photographer Rick Guidotti.

That man is a winner.

Go get some tissues, get comfy, and watch this 7 minute clip:  Cockles warming news segment
Or go here: Warm your cockles.

Aren't your cockles just the warmest they have ever been?

Other than the word "cockles," I've got nothing funny to say about this.

I just wanted all of you to have a moment today that warms your cockles and makes you rethink beauty.

Sunday, June 16, 2013

DNA Not Required

The definition of "father" per Webster's Dictionary reads, in part:
"A man who has begotten a child."

That's pretty simple and not untrue. However, it's not altogether accurate either. After all, this same dictionary defines "begotten" as, "to procreate."

Definition of Father per me:
A man willing to work from sunup to sundown sunup.

He must be comfortable cleaning up all sorts of bodily fluids including urine, poop, vomit, and more poop.

He will, at times, know all of the answers but be patently ignored by those who love him most.  He'll handle this in stride.

He must be able to go from being dressed as a princess to playing the role of Spider-Man faster than a speeding bullet.

The man must be smart enough to know when not to speak, and silly enough to know how to make an assortment of inappropriate sounds.

He must be clever enough to read the body language of children, tweens, and his wife.

Although challenging, he has the ability to refrain from having the last word.

He must be man enough to be call dad, daddy, papa, or father.

Contributing his DNA to these wild little creatures adoring kids is NOT required, but being loving, understanding, forgiving, supportive, empathetic and kind is.

Happy Father's Day to all the dads out there!

Tuesday, June 4, 2013

Beach Etiquette 101

Ok, people, it's the time of year when we need to review our beach etiquette.

Raise your hand if you've ever been to a beach and seen annoying behaviors?  Who hasn't, right?  This is my public service announcement as zillions of us load up our minivans and head towards the seemingly endless sea.

I've been paying attention to my fellow beach-goers, and I'm going to list some of the more egregious beach behavior I've seen in recent summers.

10.  You know that feeling you get when you are just nestling into your seat in a nearly empty moving theatre and some dipstick comes and sits in the seat right in front of you? "You have the entire dang theatre and you're going to sit on top of me?"  Same obnoxiousness exists on beaches up and down the coast. Miles and miles and miles of sandy beaches. Must you really put up your beach umbrella right in front of my beach chair?  Sure, I'm nearly passed out, but when I come to I would like to catch a glimpse of the water.

9.  I'm sure you're a lovely family, but I'd rather not know the names of all of your children as a result of you bellowing their names every 7 minutes. I'm going out on a limb here, but repeatedly yelling "Johnny, stop throwing sand at Emily," from 50 yards away is having no effect on Jonny. I, on the other hand, am thinking about how much enjoyment I would have throwing sand on you.

8.  Speaking of throwing stuff, everyone loves to throw a football on the beach. Sure, you're not in the NFL so you're prone to miss nearly all a few catches. When your ball hits me for the third time within five minutes, move away from me. I am thinking evil thoughts about what I'm going to do with the ball the 4th time it hits me.

7.  Shake out your towel in a location other than your neighbor's face.  You were just giving Johnny grief about throwing sand and then you stand up and shake sand directly into my face? Hello?  I'm about ready to get all public beach in your face. My airbrush tattoo may be 100% fake, but with just enough alcohol and this tattoo of a flamingo on my shoulder, I'm feeling kind of bad ass.

6.  Everyone pees in the ocean.  I get that. To the lady in North Myrtle Beach who, on at least two occasions, walked with her Budweiser can into inches of ocean water and blatantly squatted down to pee, I just want to say, "Really?  Squatting?  In inches of water? With your beer can?  That 7 foot walk to the ocean urinal really left you so parched you couldn't ditch the can for a moment and have the decency to at least get waist high in the water before emptying your bladder?"  For those of us debating about whether or not we want to go for a dip, please act like you're NOT peeing.

5.  Don't walk on the dunes. Seriously.

4.  Litter, and my children will totally call you out. At a volume that suggests the beach is on fire they will shriek, "Mom, that fat guy just littered!" Yeah, I'm trying to get them to find other ways of describing people, but since you're a litterer I'm letting the fat comment go.

3.  Nicotine is addicting, but I'm going to argue so is the smell of ocean breezes. If I can smell your addiction, it means I can't smell mine. If I wanted your second hand smoke, I would ask for it. Please go smoke somewhere else...or do your lungs a favor and quit.

2.  I love to fish! I see you love to fish, too.   See those kids on boogie boards? They are my kids, and you've decided to fish right next to them. You can either move to a safer fishing area or risk becoming bait. Seriously, don't fish near swimmers!

1.  See those seagulls you just fed? Amazing how it started as just two seagulls and within moments it now looks like a scene from Hitchcock's "The Birds."  Funny how two seagulls look enchanting and 50 seagulls looks like a gang of rats with wings. Please don't feed seagulls near my towel. It causes me to shriek and run, and I DO NOT WANT TO RUN IN MY SWIMSUIT.

Enjoy the beach and enjoy your summer!!

Saturday, June 1, 2013

My Husband's Foray into Shoe Shopping

My husband is hilarious.  And by "hilarious" I actually mean "clueless" but that just sounds mean and I am not a mean girl.

My husband discovered an awesome website that offers fabulously discounted items for those who bike, run, camp, and love being active outdoors.  In other words, it's perfect for people unlike myself.

If you want to learn more about this awesome site click here:

My daughter has complained for weeks that her shoes don't fit.
As it turns out her shoes don't fit.

This is at least the third time her feet have sprouted out of her shoes in the last six months. I'm not sure what we are feeding her?

I had the brilliant idea of buying her clown shoes and allowing her feet to grow into them.  My husband had the compassionate idea of buying her new shoes that actually fit her.

He showed me a picture of a pair of shoes from the fantastic website and asked, "Do you think she would like these?"

Isn't that just the sweetest, most naive thing you've ever heard?  Really, my hubby is just the nicest guy.  And by "nicest guy" I actually mean "nicest guy."

I gave hubby my, "Are you kidding me?" look.

He gave me his, "Why are you looking at me like that?" look.

I gave him my, "Seriously?  You don't get it?" look.

He then responded non verbally with his, "What is so strange about the question I just asked you?" look.

Yes, my husband and I communicate much more frequently nonverbally than we do verbally.  After all, we are married. We stopped effectively communicating verbally back in the late 1990s.

The point, seemingly lost on my hubby, is my our inability to predict what shoes our tween may or may not like.  Give me a zillion guesses and I would still guess wrong.  In part, I think my tween daughter prides herself on being unpredictable.  If I think she may like something it only provides her with more motivation to not like that thing.  I just love this developmental stage. I'll let you guess what I mean by "love."

On top of being a tween, she is a future women.  Other than Manolo Blahnik, Jimmy Choo, and Steve Madden, when in the history of mankind did a man predict what shoes a woman would buy?

I explained all of this to my dear hubby.

I added that our tween would love, love, love to shop online with him for shoes, but any attempt to guess what shoes she may or may not like would be best left to those who own a magic ball.

As her parents, our magic ball is broken.  From what I understand, it'll be fixed in about eight years.