Ah, 18 year old me.
I remember her.
She was terrified of getting fat. And so, she would starve herself for days, eating only a plate of white rice with lemon juice when she got hungry. Or she’d take a baggie filled with slimfast powder to school and empty it into a fat free milk carton for lunch. She’d only order salads at restaurants because she didn’t want people to see her eating fattening foods.
But sometimes, when no one was watching, she’d stuff her face with junk food. She’d feel so disgusted with herself afterwards, so she’d eat a few pieces of chocolate flavored ex-lax and find herself on the toilet a few hours later crying, cramping and shitting until she was shitting out air.
That wasn’t enough to rid herself of the guilt for having indulged in a bag of cheetos, so she’d layer herself in sweatpants and sweatshirts and workout in her room until she was drenched in sweat and feeling as though she may pass out.
She would spend a lot of time in the mirror finding chunks of fat to grab and feel bad about. “I must lose this fat right here on my stomach! I look so gross!” She’d cry.
Even though she only weighed a 125 pounds and that skirt she was wearing was a size 5.
People would tell her that she was “so skinny” and she’d think they were crazy because LOOK AT HOW BIG MY THIGHS ARE. People would roll their eyes and say things like “you’re sick in the head!”
Little did they know how right there were about that.
Then she met a sexy dork at church who thought she was beautiful and wanted to marry her. He would try to feed her avocado sandwiches and when she would refuse because she was afraid of getting fat, he’d hold the sandwich up to her nose and say “who cares if you get fat, I’ll love you no matter how much you weigh… NOW TAKE A BITE OF THIS RIGHT NOW!”
As scared as she was to take a bite of that stupid sandwich, she loved him so much and believed him when he said that he would love her no matter how much she weighed and so she took a bite.
And my GOD, she loved the taste of real food in her mouth.
So she took another bite and another one and then another one.
A year later, she had gained 20 pounds and that man who promised to love her no matter how much she weighed still loved her and would tell her how beautiful she was every single day.
She would go on crazy diets to lose the weight every time she would gain the weight. She’d always lose it, in no time at all. But, without fail, she’d always gain it right back.
Even though that man loved her and would never make her feel bad about having put on a few pounds, she was still terrified of getting fat.
Then she had her first baby. She gained 50 pounds and her body went to shit.
And as ugly as she felt, there was that man, right there, rubbing her stretched out stomach softly while telling her how beautiful her belly was because it had carried his child.
17 years, three kids, 70 pounds, 4 cup sizes and one stretched out belly button later, that man STILL loves that girl and thinks she’s beautiful. She knows she’s blessed, so damn lucky. But, she can’t help but wonder if deep down inside, he regrets the day he begged her just TASTE THE DAMN SANDWICH because now he can’t have one without having to share half with her.
In “Praise” of The Potty.
You know, I’m so glad that I decided to potty train my daughter before she was three.
No. Really. I am.
Ah, Potty trainedness. It’s great, is it not? I mean, really. Having a little person who no longer needs to use diapers, but can march their little buttocks into the bathroom and go pee and poop all by themselves!?
Pure awesomeness, I tell ya.
Well, except for this ONE little thing. But really, other than this one little tiny thing that kind of ruins my mornings, it’s GREAT!
You see, my daughter has finally figured out how to use this whole “potty trained” thing to her advantage. Every single time that I lay her down for a nap or bedtime, she does this little thing where she shouts “I have to go pee so bad!” or “Oh noes! I have to poop!” at least 20 times.
And even though I know that she really doesn’t have to pee, I’m convinced that the one time I take a stand and say “NO! You are lying, there is no way that you have to pee because you just went two minutes ago!” will be the one time that she pees herself in her bed.
So, the girl has me “by the balls” and she knows it.
There’s also the whole “I can’t go out in public for more than a few minutes at a time without having to carry a little human being to the bathroom” But still, that minor inconvenience does not erase the greatness that is a Potty Trained Toddler.
Last week, I went to Bath and Body works to get a friend a birthday present. Five minutes into my shopping trip, Gabby was all “uh oh! Gabby has to go potty!” I ran to the cashier up front and asked her if there was a restroom my daughter could use.
“Sorry” she said all snottily “there’s merchandise back there and I’m FORBIDDEN from letting you go back there.”
“But please, she just learned how to go potty, she can’t hold it.”
“Sorry! But hey, Ross has a bathroom! I can hold your stuff for you though!”
“Don’t bother.” I snapped back as I threw my unpaid for merchandise on the counter.
Ross was right next door, but Ross bathrooms are DISGUSTING. Seriously, the last time I had used that restroom, there was shit smeared on the toilet and piss all over the ground. (I don’t need to tell you that I didn’t actually used the restroom do I?) So, I knew the nearest restroom was at Mervyns, and Mervyns was a few stores and an entire driveway away.
Look, I love you so much that I drew you a little diagram so that you could get a better picture.
Did I mention that it was pouring rain? Because it was pouring rain!
So, I had to run all the way across the parking lot to Mervyns with a two year old on my hip shouting things like “hold the pee pee inside for just a little longer! We’re almost there! Please! Don’t pee in your chonies! HOLD THE PEEEEEEEEEE PEEEEEEEE!”
We made it there just in time.
I was all out of breath, both of us were soaking wet from the rain. And I never did get my friend her present.
But! I had a child who peed on the potty! So Praise The Lord for THAT.
Now, I know that would have never happened if she were still wearing diapers and NOT potty trained, but hey! I don’t have to spend anymore money on diapers anymore! And that? Is great!
Is it not? IS IT NOT?
I do, however, have to spend money on Pull Ups. And not just any pull ups. Oh no. The Freaking Princess Pull Ups, which are actually more EXPENSIVE then the diapers because GOD FORBID I buy the generic brand ones with the bears on it.
(I didn’t even know that she knew that Princess Pull Ups existed, but obviously She Who Goes Pee Pee On The Potty pays attention to the commercials when she’s watching Dora and Blues Clues. And quite possibly also Little Einsteins, Barney, The Backyardigans, Doodlebops and Go Diego Go!)
But, other than all of that stuff that I mentioned above, and also the fact that I have to wake up 3 times a night to take her potty, having a potty trained child is really is the GREATEST THING IN THE WORLD![/sarcasm]
Bangs.
I have a history of doing really bad things with scissors.
Every time that I pick up a pair of scissors to cut someone’s hair, I know that I shouldn’t do it, because it always ends up badly. But every time, I convince myself that “this time I can do it! Because, this time, I will be careful and will just cut this ONE LITTLE PIECE.
And every single time, I screw up in a very big way because “I have to even it out!” and an innocent victim is left without sideburns, or with an entire chunk of hair missing in the back of their head, or with a hairless dog peenie.
OR…
Blogging While Kneeling (Bleeling! Knogging!)
So, um, what do you think the chances are that the chair you’re looking at, the one that has absolutely ZERO padding left, has actual METAL protruding out of it and is all crooked with zero back/neck support is the reason that my back IS JACKED AS ALL HELL?
I’ve been blaming “stress” and “a pinched nerve” and everything else under the sun, but until PigHunter sat on it last night and shouted “OUCH! MY ASS! THERE IS METAL STICKING OUT OF THIS THING! HOW DO YOU SIT ON THAT, WOMAN?” it never occured to me that the reason I’m in constant pain might have a LITTLE SOMETHING to do with this piece of shit chair.
I know that I need a new one, I’ve known that for a long time. I mean, look at it. The thing is, I haven’t really cared because a)I never have company over, so I’m not worried about anyone ever having to see it. b)although there is metal protruding from it, I can’t feel it thanks to the “extra padding” that I currently carry on my ass. c)I have 3 kids who need things and I can’t seem to justify spending money on a stupid computer chair
However, now that I have to take 1,500mg of Robaxin just to sleep at night and be able to (somewhat) function during the day, I’m thinking that it’s time to work “a new computer chair” into the budget.
Because sometimes, blogging hurts.
I woke up in excruciating pain in my neck and upper back. I can’t move my neck and it’s hard to lift up my right shoulder.
I have no idea what is wrong. It could be a pinched nerve, it could be a stiff neck, could be tension and stress. It could be an infection in my spinal cord (because yes, I’ve had one of those before. What the hell? Why do I get all of the crazy illnesses?) It could be The Devil trying to KEEP ME FROM DANCING AEROBICALLY, because tonight, I was going to go back to Dance Aerobics (and record video! Just for you!)
Whatever the hell it is, IT HURTS and sitting here at the computer is too painful.
“OMG! It hurts to blog! Call 911!”
I wanted to tell you about The First Date That My Husband Has Ever Planned For Us in the History of Our Marriage, but, I can’t! It hurts!
So, because I’m afraid that I may damage my neck even further by sitting here and typing on my blog, I’m going to leave you with a couple of my (new-ish) favorite blogs that I think you should be reading because they bring The Funny, people.
Metalia.
Oh, The Joys.
p.s. ouch
The New Adventures of Old Christine: Part One
I didn’t sleep much on Sunday night.
I couldn’t stop obsessing over which question I would ask. I wanted it to be The Perfect Question. Funny, intelligent, thought provoking. I was going to take this opportunity very seriously.
By the time midnight rolled around, I had decided “the hell with intelligent and thought provoking, I’m just going to ask them if they’ve ever taken Aerobic Dance class and if anyone wanted to take me on in a dance off!”
I arrived a few minutes early and met Self-made Mom and Manic Mommies. They were very nice and also completely unaware of who I was. Joy Unexpected WHAT? Y from the Internet WHO?
And you people think I’m popular.
Beth, the women who put this event together, came out to greet us and take us to the set of The New Adventures of Old Christine. The first thing that I noticed once we were on the set was this little table with place cards that said things like “JULIA LOUIS-DREYFUS” and “WANDA SYKES.”
Across from that table, I noticed a few chairs, with bottles of water placed on top of them.
I realized that this was where we were going to conduct our little “interview.” I had NO idea it was going to be so intimate and that we were going to be so close to the actors. In my mind, I had pictured us sitting in the place where the audience usually sits and the actors sitting on the set. I imagined they’d hand us a microphone and the actors would have to squint their eyes to see where we were.
Man, was I wrong.
I know that you’re probably thinking “Big deal! They’re just people!”
I know this and yet Julie Louis-Dreyfus! And Wanda Sykes! Sitting right across a table from me! It was very intimidating.
We had to do a few things which I will keep a secret for now (but you will SEE later) before the cast arrived to do the interview.
I was very nervous and was completely aware of the fact that I was the fattest person in the building. (And there were two very pregnant women there, folks.) But, everyone on the set was so warm and friendly, that I was totally OK with being The Big Chub.
Until I realized there was a dude following us around with a video camera. Then I became very self conscience and tried very hard to not be caught standing alone. When you see the video. (Yes, there will be a video) I’m pretty sure that every time you see me, I will be running to hide behind someone. I actually thought about running out of the building, until I saw Liz walk in. If she wasn’t pregnant, I would have knocked her to the ground and licked her all over.
Instead, I ran up and hugged her and immediately started annoying her by repeatedly saying things like “Oh my God, I’m so nervous.” “Oh my God, look how close we’re sitting to the cast.” “Oh my God, I don’t know what to ask them.”
She was very gracious and kind to me. She held my hand (or more like I grabbed her hand and wouldn’t let go)and she really did help to put me (somewhat) at ease.
The moment we had been waiting for finally arrived and we were asked to “take a seat.” The cast walked in and when I saw Julia, I let out a very loud GASP because whoa, she was beautiful. I’ve always thought she was cute, but in person? She’s gorgeous. Her skin was perfect, her hair was amazing, her teeth were pearly gems from heaven, her body was tiny and tight. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her.
Actually, every single person up there was beautiful. And so were their teeth. My GOD, THE TEETH.
After they took their seats, I felt a wave of nervousness take over my entire body. I started to shake and I could feel the gas welling up deep within me. I immediately wrote a note to myself.
Note to self: Don’t fart.
I honestly felt like I couldn’t breathe because “Oh my GOD, in a few minutes they are going to hand me a mic and I have NO IDEA WHAT IN THE HELL I’M GOING TO ASK THESE PEOPLE.”
Liz went just before me and as she asked her question, I was about to shit my pants because I knew that I was next and I still didn’t have a freaking question to ask. And just as I was about to start crying, THE GREATEST THING IN THE HISTORY OF EVER HAPPENED. The following words came out of the mouth of Wanda Sykes. “I’ll do anything for a laugh, I’ll fart on stage…”
Fart!
Wanda said FART!
Suddenly, everything was right with the world.
As soon as Liz handed me the microphone, I was all “omigod I’m so nervous and its funny you brought up FARTING, Wanda, because I wrote a little note here to myself that says DON’T FART because ha! Ha! Ha! I get really gassy when I’m nervous! Ha! Haaaaaa! And so if you think someone may have… well, it was probably me! Ha! Ha! Ha!”
(They’ll be audio proof of that to share with you all very soon.)
Dudes, they were laughing! LAUGHING! Especially Clark Gregg who actually put his head down on the table, but I think his was more of a “Oh MY GOD NO SHE DI’INT” kind of laugh.” Obviously, he had never read my blog because hello! I talk about my nervous gas all of the time!
Fart Talk: The Great Ice Breaker!
Once I had everyone laughing, I no longer felt pressure or nervous and the words just started flowing from my mouth.
I told them that I wrote for a blog called Joy Unexpected and that I had very dedicated readers who knew I was there and how I wanted to take something back to them that would interest them and then, I proceeded to ask a Very Important Question…
”Do YOU read blogs?”
::::awkward silence::::
Seriously. It got so quiet in there.
“I didn’t mean to put you on the spot…”
Julia started to laugh and confessed that she didn’t even know what a blog was and a few of the others chimed in with confession of having never read a blog. One of the cast members said they had read ONE blog, but that it was poorly written and she hated it and vowed to never read a blog again.
I suppose a small part of me was hoping that they would say “why, yes, we know what a blog is! We were up reading yours last night!” I may have been a little disappointed that they had really didn’t know what a blog was as evidenced in my “notes” (if you can even call them notes because, well, look.)
(Those are my actual notes.)
(Shutup. I was nervous and shaking violently.)
After the “interview” was over, we got to sit down and watch a few minutes of a pre-taping of the show. Then, we hopped on a bus and headed over to a little coffee shop (which they closed down just for us!) and had a chance to talk with producers, executives and also Alex and Tricia from the show.
Then, we hopped back into the bus which took us back to the parking garage. We stood around and talked about what a great experience it was, said our goodbyes and headed back to our cars.
As much fun as I had that day, I was happy for it to be over because OH MY GOD, my girdle type underwear had pretty much cut off all circulation to my legs. I could NOT wait to rip those mofos off. As soon as I got into my van, I looked around, made sure no one was watching, reached under my skirt and began what felt like an hour long process of peeling off the chonies.
(Which reminds me, I really do need to take those things out of the glove compartment before someone (like MY KIDS) reaches in there to get a pen or a piece of paper and instead, finds my dirty, size Q chonies all wadded up in a big ball.)
At the end of the day, I was glad that I went. I was proud of myself for stepping outside of My Comfort Zone and putting my fears and insecurities aside. I was grateful for the oppurtunity to show the people of Hollywood who bloggers really are and let them know that “hey, we get gas too.”
I do not have pictures, because we were FORBIDDEN from taking pictures, but later this month, there will be pictures and also video (Ahhhhhhh!) that I will be able to post here. Stay tuned for THAT, because THAT is going to be very special.
I promise you.
“Do you know what a blog is?”
My daughter flat out refused to take a nap this morning.
She was all “Nap? Oh hells naw. I want to watch Barney and I WILL SCREAM UNTIL YOU LET ME WATCH IT!”
It’s as if she knew that I have a really great story to tell and she DIDN’T WANT ME TO TELL IT. (Yes, sometimes I think my daughter is out to get me and that she is trying to keep me from enjoying the simple things in life, like telling The Internet that I told famous people about my gas problem and the fact that I fart when I’m nervous. Oh YES I DID.)
Nap time is the time of the day in which I can take a shower (and also a dump, but not that the same time!) in peace. It is the only time in the day in which I can write, it is the only time of the day in which I can do pretty much anything that I want to do because I don’t have to worry about her climbing on furniture, or getting her daddy’s razor and attemtping to shave her face, or coloring on my walls, or taking all of the wicks out of my candles and so on and so forth.
She finally fell asleep about 10 minutes ago, but not without a fight. (and an assload of bribes. “I will buy you a Barney doll if you close your eyes RIGHT NOW and stop moving.” She’s too young to understand the “I will sell your toys on Ebay if you don’t listen!” threats, but she totally understands bribes. Whatever works, people. That is my parenting philosophy.) One would think that means I can finally write about my absolutely fabulous experience yesterday, right?
Wrong.
Because it is now 1:15, I must take a shower and get ready to pick the boys up from school.
But, because I love you, I’ll leave you with a little “taste” of what it was like until I can write about it later tonight.
Ready?
[a little taste]
Me: Oh my God. I’m so nervous. I am so nervous. I don’t know what to ask. I’m so nervous.
Her: Don’t be nervous. You’ll be fine. It’s not a big deal, it’s going to be fun.
Me: “Oh my God. Hold my hand. I’m so nervous. I can’t do this. I know, I’m so annoying. I know you want to slap me. Oh my God, you can slap me. Seriously. Or tell me to shutup, because I’m annoying. And nervous. Did I mention I was nervous?”
Yeah.
But, it gets better! I swear! Because she took me up on my offer and slapped the shit out of me** and man, that knocked the nervousness right out of my system.
Until the cast came out and I saw their PERFECT TEETH.
Then I was nervous again.
[/a little taste]
**quite possibly a lie
Warning: Parental Bragging (and also lots of talk of POOP) Ahead
One of the things that I was dreading about having to do toddlerhood for a third time was Potty Training.
I started trying to PT both of my boys at 2 1/2 years old and neither one of them actually was potty trained until a few weeks after their 3rd birthday.
They both fought it every step of the way. They especically fought “pooping” in the toilet. Every single time they’d have to take a dump, I’d find them hiding in the corner, grunting and red faced SWEARING that they weren’t pooping.
“ARE YOU POOPING?!”
“No *grunt* I’m *pfratta grunt* not. *grunt*”
I remember crying a lot, pulling my hair out a lot and falling on my knees asking God to send down his angels to carry my boys to the toilet when they needed to poop a lot.
I hated every single minute of potty training my boys. (Well, except the minutes where they would sit on the pot with a book and pretend to be pooping, because that was so precious.)
I have been putting off potty training G-Unit because I wasn’t sure that I was ready to go through the frustration and the changing of shit filled chonis.
Monday, I decided that I was ready to commit myself to potty training her and had stocked up on aspirin. (And wine. Lots of wine.) I also went to Target and bought her pretty little princess chonis and flushable wipes.
I was ready and I was hoping she was too.
I chickened out on Monday.
I chickened out on Tuesday.
But yesterday, I took the diaper off and put the chonis on.
I explained to her that from now on, when she needed to go pee or poop, she needed to go on the potty chair. (She had gone pee on the potty a few times before and had also pooped once. However, I would always put the diaper back on because of my “commitment issues.”)
She wore chonies all day yesterday, even when we went to basketball practice and she did not have a single accident. She would tell me everytime she needed to go and I would scoop her up and we’d run to the potty.
Each time she did it, I’d clap and cheer for her.
“I DID IT!” She’d squeel and then she’d flush the toilet and wash her hands.
Last night I started to worry because she had yet to Do The Doo. But at 7pm, she came running to me and declared “I need to poop!”
And poop she did.
Last night, she woke up twice to say she needed to go potty and when she woke up this morning, her diaper was completely dry. She’s been in chonis all day today and has yet to have an accident.
What the hell? This has gone entirely too smoothly. I’ve been waiting for her to pee or crap her pants, or beg for me to put a diaper back on her, but it’s not happening. She runs to the potty every time she has to go and doesn’t cry or whine about it. Infact, she claps and giggles and sometimes? She puts her head between her legs and says really precious things like “Come on, pachina, let the pee pee come out, ok?”
The real test will come on Saturday when we’re out at basketball games all day.
Could this really be true? Is it possibly my daughter is potty trained in two days? People have always told me that girls are easier to train than boys, but I never imagined it could be THIS easy.
I feel like I’ve won the lottery, man.
39
Oh.My.God.
I have no idea what else to say. It’s not really shocking, considering the lifestyle she led, and yet, I find myself sitting here with my mouth wide open, thinking “how very sad.”
Ok. As you were.
Respect… My Press Pass.
(Ok, I am a jackass. I had accidently posted this entry twice and instead of deleting the one with ZERO comments, I deleted the one with all of the comments. I’m so sorry if you took the time to leave a comment, and because I feel so bad, I will probably go through my email and repost your comment. GOD.)
Last week I received an email from Lisa Stone asking if I’d be interested in going to see a taping of The New Adventures of Old Christine.
I’ve been to several tapings for television shows (Friends, The Price is Right, Kids Incorporated.**) and it’s always been a fun experience (well, except for OUTHOUSES that we had to use at the taping of friends because God forbid the “little people” actually get to use real restrooms.) and so I said that I would love to go see a taping of that show.
Lisa said that someone from CBS would be in contact with me to give me more information about the taping.
The next day, I received an email containing the details for the taping.
The set visit will take place from 2:00-3:30pm and will include a pre-taping and interview with the entire cast and show creator and executive producer Kari Lizer.
Um.
Interview? With the entire cast? And creator/executive producer?
INTERVIEW? I WILL BE INTERVIEWING JULIA LOUIS-DREYFUS? WHAT?
My first thought was to back out. No way in hell could I do such a thing and let me list the reasons that ran through my head in no particular order.
“I have nothing to wear!”
“I’ve never done an interview before!”
“I have ugly teeth!”
“I’ll be the only fat girl there!”
“I’m just not smart, funny or thin enough to do something this awesome.”
This is what I do to myself every single time an opportunity presents itself in my life. I think of all of the reasons why I shouldn’t do it. I really don’t give myself much credit and the thought of failing or ruining EVERYTHING makes me physically ill and so I retreat and let the opportunity pass me by.
Then, I spend weeks, months, sometimes even years regretting it and crying about it.
It’s a pathetic way to live, really and over the past few years, I’ve learned to stop listening to those voices. They’re still there, I hear them, but I don’t give them as much power as I used to. (Thank you Internet and Dr.Phil for THAT.)
I’ve decided to go ahead and do it. I’m stepping (way) outside of my comfort zone –my “bubble”, if you will– but I know that if I let my (stupid) fears stop me, I will want to kick the crap out of myself later on for missing out on such a great experience.
There will be other bloggers there (quite possibly HER, which, holycrap I may die from the excitement!) although I’m not exactly sure how many. I’m hoping at least 100 so that no one will notice my giant body, or the gas that I will be expelling, or the fact that I have never interviewed anyone in my entire life and that the nervousness might get the best of me and I’ll end up doing something stupid, like, um, The Monkey.
(Lisa Stone is all “WHAT HAVE I DONE? WHY DID I ASK HER?”)
Here’s where you, my precious readers whom I love so much, can help me.
If you were me and you were sitting across from the entire cast and creator of The New Adventures of Old Christine, what question would you want to ask?
This may be considered “cheating” but I consider it giving me a chance to stand up and say “I write for a blog called Joy Unexpected and I have hundred of intelligent, articulate clean readers who have come up with some awesome questions that I’d love to ask you…”
(OMG.CHEESE)
I should let you know that Lisa is the one who gave me the idea to ask you. This is what she said.
Even better, why don’t you ask your readers what they think about the show and ask them for questions? They’re a FANTASTIC group. I adore you — but your readers make it even better.
She ADORES you, people. And so do I and man, I would really appreciate any help you could give me with this.