I’m so excited, I think I might tinkle in my JEANS! My post, Confession: I Wear Mom Jeans is featured on BLUNTMoms! Check it out and please, tell me if YOUR jeans will soon be considered (oh, the horr-ah, dare I say it)… MOM JEANS! Enjoy and THANK YOU for all your support! http://www.bluntmoms.com/
I just wanted to say Happy Thanksgiving! May you have a WONDERFUL holiday. May you eat without stuffing yourself, laugh a lot and… try to stay sane throughout the long weekend.
It’s a time to over-eat, yes, but also a time to be thankful for everything you have. I was honored to participate in Jill Smokler’s Thanksgiving Project, which helps families in need. It was an amazing campaign. My kids also gathered toys and goodies to donate to a local organization that helps families in need here in Barrington.
I’m so grateful for so many things: Good friends, a wonderful family, and….the fact that I don’t have to host Thanksgiving dinner this year. (Did I just write that out loud?) Oh, I’m making some pies and casseroles and such, but things will be a lot different compared to last Thanksgiving. Oh yes, I hosted 14 people for dinner last year and had a little issue that I dubbed “Spanx in the Suburbs,” which you can read about below. I loved every minute of it, but let’s just say it’s going to be a little more relaxing this year. HAPPY WEEK!!! And, for the love of Black Friday, have fun!
From me to you, a look back at last Thanksgiving: SPANX IN THE SUBURBS: This Thanksgiving, all I could focus on was hosting a dinner for 14 people that would not turn out like something from National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation. (Featuring a turkey so dry, it would implode on itself.) My brother, his wife and their three adorable boys flew in from Denver for the big day, and our kids had a non-stop-week-with-cousins extended slumber party. I prepared all the sides and desserts in the days before so that everything would go off without a hitch.
A half hour before everyone arrived, I race upstairs to put on a cute black skirt and under eye concealer to mask the fact that I only had four hours of sleep and a slight hangover. I decided to slap on Spanx too because I was feeling a little flabby and bloated. I pulled the bird out of the oven and I’m happy to say it was so beautiful, so juicy, so moist, I wanted to dress the bird in a tuxedo and show it off in a parade. But we ended up carving it down and dove into it and some pretty tasty sides. All of the sides. (Yes, I had a little bit of everything on my plate.) Fifteen minutes into dinner, I realize I can hardly breathe. I take a sip of my drink, thinking it’s just my imagination. But I can’t ignore the pressure. The Spanx have practically cut off my circulation. Like a rubber band on a balloon, the Spanx did nothing more than push my belly flab from one area to another. And my slightly-too-small skirt is smack in the middle. There is such an obvious line where the Spanx ends and my upper belly begins, if I burped into the candle and cranberries centerpiece I had worked so hard on, I might set the table on fire. I excuse myself and go to the bathroom, trying desperately to remove the apparatus that is causing this dinner-time dilemma. I successfully slide the Spanx off of my belly, down my legs and over my boots, but realize I can’t leave the bathroom without them in my hands. I sneak out, hiding them behind my back. “Babe, is everything OK?” my husband asks. “Yes, everything’s just fine.” I put on a fake smile, run to the family room and shove the Spanx in the front closet.
Finally, I find my way back to my seat. I sit down and feel a sense of release. Literally. As if a mountain of bloat has been freed from under my skirt. My muffin top has found its way back to where it belongs. Behind the table cloth. And so I did what any sane host would do at this point. Serve pie, say yes to seconds and enjoy the day Spanx-less with my wonderful family
I’m addicted to my blog.
And social media.
Checking my iPhone.
And staying in touch with you here.
I might as well face it, I’m Addicted (to blogging).
In case you are NOT familiar with the lyrics to Robert Palmer’s 1985 song, “Addicted to Love,” because you were born in 1990-something, please do me a favor and leave the room for a minute. Just step away from the screen for five seconds so I can collect my thoughts. Or go eat something with refined sugar. Or something fried. Your youth and fast metabolism are making me feel antiquated. And wrinkly. Allow me to back up a minute. I have tried for two weeks now to NOT BLOG and just free-write. Which is why I’m admitting that I’m ADDICTED.
I’m trying really hard to take the advice of my friend and writing coach, Hannah. I adore her. She is right. She gets me. She understands my insane writing process. My need to multi-task while simultaneously writing everything I’m thinking. And sneak semi-sweet chocolate chip morsels from the pantry in order to keep writing.
We both share a love for whipped cream. Extra whipped cream on any hot beverage, from tea to steamed milk and beyond. It helps keep the stream of consciousness flowing.
She knows what I need right now, which is to LAY OFF MY BLOG and just FREE WRITE for a bit.
I know I need some time off. (To take my own advice, from the OnlineRI.com post, Digital Detox. Hello, I need to follow these steps right now, big time.)
I have been so busy with other pr and writing deadlines, I decided to take a little break from writing and updating my blog. But, like any mother trying to do something good for herself, there is guilt attached to it.
So, in case you think I’ve vanished. That I don’t care. That I stopped blogging for good. Just realize I’m in this for the long haul. I’m just taking a “little break.” (Think Ross from Friends, “We were on a little break”.) I’m not breaking up from my blog. I’m just trying to get some other stuff done. I’ll be here. And in the meantime, feel free to stay in touch with me here or here too. XO
Halloween candy is 75% off. Jack-o-lanterns have been demolished by squirrels. Thanksgiving is around the corner and CHRISTMAS DECORATIONS ARE UP everywhere you go. Oh, the holidays are coming.
‘Tis the season for a lot of wondrous things. Family. Gratitude. Giving….AND STRESS.
Have you ever been GHOSTED?
I’m not talking about watching Friday the 13th or Demi Moore in the movie GHOST. (But I so want to see the Broadway Show). And I digress. My definition of “being ghosted”: (v) When someone rings your doorbell anonymously (think G-rated “ding-dong-ditch”) before Halloween and leaves a small bag of goodies and a ghostly poem at your door.
A paper ghost on a front door means people are getting ghosted. AND YOU MAY BE NEXT!
We started this Halloween-time tradition 10 years ago when we first moved to the neighborhood. My sister-in-law and her family ghosted us one night (they got us so good, I nearly wet my pregnancy pants) and we haven’t stopped since. It’s something my kids look forward to every October. We make a night of it, running around with flashlights, goodie bags, ringing doorbells and hiding. We hide behind our neighbors’ trees and there’s always tons of giggling.
If you haven’t been “ghosted” yet, plan to ghost someone this weekend! It’s easy, inexpensive and so much fun for the whole family. But hurry, because you HAVE to do it before Halloween!
How to start a GHOSTING tradition in your neighborhood:
1. Make two copies of this “Ghostly” poem. Link: BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
You’ve Been Ghosted!
During the night, we left you a treat.
This Halloween tradition is fun, and one we hope you’ll repeat…..
Feel free to download the poem at the orange link above! Or create your own!
2. Gather some inexpensive goodies and treats – from play dough and pencils to crayons and candy. Target, CVS or the Dollar Store has great cheap stuff in bulk for fun goodie bags. Plastic army guys and spider rings are always a favorite for us.
3. Fill two ghostly goodie bags with treats and copies of the poem and ghost picture and hide them somewhere safe.
4. Choose at least two neighbors to “Ghost” that do NOT have a ghost taped to their door. (Important: This means they have already been ghosted!)
5. Wait until it’s dark outside and walk through your neighborhood. Be careful of cars and USE A FLASHLIGHT, please. “Whatevs. mom.” Leave the ghostly goodie bag on your neighbor’s doorstep. (Double check that the poem and ghost picture are safely tucked inside.)
6. Then get ready to hide! Make a run for it (safely please) so no one sees you!
7. Rinse and repeat for the next neighbor.
To lots of giggles, good ghostings and a Happy Halloween! – XO – Jackie
- You polish off all the Halloween candy.. a week before Halloween.
- You’re among the few who caved in and ate a piece of toast after being on the Atkins diet for five hours. (True story, I raise my hand in total shame.)
- After jogging, rather than cooling down, you join your nine-year-old to a few spoonfuls of Nutella for….protein.
- You eat your veggies, followed by a piece of dark chocolate. And then a cup of hot chocolate.
- You eat dessert after every meal. Including brunch.
- After a tough Pilates workout, you eat everything in your refrigerator that hasn’t expired.
- You say yes to Garlic mashed potatoes for your side dish every time, without even flinching.
- You equate a large salad on Monday to your veggie intake for the rest of the week.
In all seriousness, fruit juice fasts aren’t for everyone. Check out my latest AskMom column at OnlineRI.com to see if they’re right for you! Seven Truths About Juice Fasts: https://onlineri.com/articles/ask_mom
This is an oldie, but I HAD to re-post it for anyone who didn’t catch it the first time around!
At what point did I let Granny panties pass as everyday panties? Granny panties, period panties, Nana panties. Call them what you want, but I know you know what I’m talking about. I realize many of you wear adorable matching panties and bras every day of the week and probably can’t believe I’m writing about this. Eff-it, I’m in my 40′s. Deal with it. For the moms who have given up on looking cute underneath it all, I know I’m not alone. You reach a point as a mother where you just say, it is what it is. “I’ve taken a shower, I’ve sprayed my outfit with Fabreze. This pair of panties from the clean clothes pile will have to do.” Now, I believe in working out and staying in shape (aside from good health, I work out so I can eat more and make room for my kids’ leftovers). I also promise myself to take a shower every day. But when it comes to unattractive and mismatched undergarments, I take the cake more than I care to admit. I do try. I have bought some expensive matching under-outfits through the years. I wash them and wear them here and there. But some of the prettiest bras stay tucked neatly inside my drawer for months on end, never to be paired with panties that at least fall in the same color family. I loathe going to that bra store in the mall where there are skinny 20-somethings donning Triple D matching bras and tanks searching the display drawers for the perfect thong. For some reason, they are almost always with their boyfriends and five girlfriends. They are all searching for thongs. Honey, let me tell you and your five girlfriends something. I haven’t worn a thong in 11 years. I’ve tried. But if you dare make me laugh or ask me to jump up and down while I have one on, don’t think I won’t drive home and slap on a pair of mismatched granny panties just so I can feel more comfortable.
You reach a certain point when you become a mother where something has to give. Every Monday, my bra and panties match. Sometimes on Tuesdays too. But by Thursday afternoon, I’m sporting a look underneath it all that makes Tootsie look sexy.
This is an old article about what your panty style says about you, and yes, Granny panties are in here.
Have you ever had one of “those” days? No matter how hard you try, nothing goes your way? You KNOW you can turn it around, and things can only get better. But for the moment, you need to just sink into the poop pile and let it settle before having a panic attack?
I woke up yesterday and accomplished so much, I felt on top of the world. I even fit in an early morning jog with my dog followed by a shower, brunch with friends, meetings and conference calls. But today. Today was an entirely different story. Let’s just let the following list tell the story, shall we?
You know it’s going to be one of “those” days when:
- Your alarm clock goes off, and you forget to hit snooze.
- You have “mommy” insomnia and slept a whole 3 hours, so you’re BEYOND salvaging the day with a smile, hot tea and Tylenol.
- You look in the mirror and don’t recognize the crazy lady looking back at you.
- Your son forgets his water bottle and he has a cross country meet after school.
- You forget to wash your hair. And it shows.
- You forget to shower. And you realize that people in the check-out line at the grocery store could TOTALLY
- You can feel a pimple forming in between your eyes. And it not only looks nasty, it hurts.
- Fabrez-ing your favorite pants isn’t going to cut it another week, so you throw in a wash with ALL of your pants. They all need to be air dried, so you essentially have nothing else to wear except an old pair that don’t fit in the crotch any more.
- While donning your least favorite outfit, topped with pillow hair, blood-shot eyes and a stain on your shirt, you run into the best-dressed mom in town. And once again, she gives you that “look” that you’re pretty sure could kill a rodent.
- Your new laptop that’s a whole 80 hours old appears to die in your arms after accidentally falling for a “restore your PC” prompt, and the man from Toshiba’s customer service line says it cannot be saved. So you try not to take your hormone-induced anger out on him even though you do it anyway.
- Your friend and IT consultant saves the day and your laptop, so all is well, except you totally missed a workout, and hours of work, so now you feel bloated and unproductive.
- You catch up on work and thank God you were able to salvage all your files, but glancing at the clock you realize the kids will be home in approximately 12 minutes. Son of a …..
- You call it a day and pray you don’t burn dinner.
Admit it. You’re beginning to LIKE some of the stuff your kids watch. You have no choice sometimes, right?
You may find this hard to believe, but my youngest child never watched TV until he was almost two years old.
Yes, we tried to create a perfect, TV-free baby that never ate sweets. Now, we knew deep down, that we were full of cow poo. Our hopes and dreams were a little far-fetched. I mean, we all need a little entertainment in life, right? Our unrealistic parenting ideals changed the day his sweet, Pixar-loving uncle gave him a brand new DVD of Monsters Inc. I’m talking about the 2002 version, people. Old school Pixar. (We didn’t even have a DVD machine, and had to play it on our computer! The horror!) He watched the bright digital “moving picture” and wanted more. MORE! ”Again, mommy, again!” That single DVD was like crack to my little man. He watched that *(&(*^&*^*&^ movie AGAIN and AGAIN. And he was hooked on good movies forever. (And so were we.) Well, GOOD movies and shows. My family now giggles at ME while I watch Chicken Little as I’m literally cackling out loud (and doing a little dance). I do the same thing when I watch The Incredibles. (And for the record, I’ve been waiting more than 10 years for the sequel.)
Now, I can’t stand some of the TV shows they watch. And yes, they do other things. But at least family movie time is something I look forward to!