Both sides of the coin

Sometimes it's easier being a single parent because...
You don't have to consult with anyone about appropriate punishment
You don't have to make sure you're "on the same page" with anyone
You get to decide how long the grounding lasts
You get to make all the rules
You get to be the boss of everyone.

Sometimes it's harder being a single parent because...
You don't have anyone to consult with about appropriate punishment
You don't have anyone to make sure you're "on the same page"
You have to decide how long the grounding lasts
You have to make all the rules
You have to be the boss of everyone.

Re Evaluating

Recently we had the dreaded IEP meeting for my son - actually, mine are pretty okay. He's in the multiple-disability class you know, so it's always pretty much the same. The goals are simple: matching words to objects, putting blocks in a bucket, tolerating the stander for 45 minutes at a time, choosing the letters of his name and stamping his name on paper. Really the only thing that ever changes is the percentage of times he's expected to get the task correct.

Basically we read through all the extremely wordy, repetitious, and double-speaky government-drone-written paperwork (and OMG I feel for the teachers who have to read it to me - and it is required that they read it aloud). No big dealio.

I mean he is what he is - he's cute and often funny and generally filled with laughter...and typically teen with outbursts of temper and fighting me when I try to get him up in the morning and just being generally difficult. I don't usually think about his disabilities -  it's just like background noise and I don't notice. We have our routines and you do what you gotta do. He's my boy, I'm his mom, and that is that.

But sometimes it sneaks up on me - the momentary sadness that swamps every cell when we go over the results of the latest Callier-Azusa Scale test, and once again all areas measure in the 4-9 month old range.
He's 16 now so I think THIS YEAR it's not going to bother me - and then I see it and I feel my face turn red and my eyes fill with tears and I stare at the paper and nod so the teacher won't see me try not to cry. I'm sad because I know that it's never going to be any better. I'm not going to suddenly see a miraculous range of 1-2 years old, even.

And then I think of a funny story to say about something he's done and everyone laughs and the PE teacher pats my hand and tells me she loves my IEPs and looks forward to them every year and then the sad moment passes and everything is okay.

And I have a whole year to work on forgetting about it before we have to do it all again.

WHAT. EVER.

Dear ONG,

WE ARE NOT FALLING FOR YOUR PROPAGANDA! Oh sure, you've got Mother Nature all "ooooh switch to gas and get this GINORMOUS REBATE check! ooooh!" but what you don't say is "OOH YOU BETTER SAVE THAT REBATE CHECK FOR WHEN WE HIKE THE RATES AND RAM IT UP YOUR ASS THIS WINTER WITH NO LUBE TO THE TUNE OF $200-$300 EACH MONTH FROM DECEMBER TO MARCH!"
Yeah. Now THAT would be full disclosure.
Have a nice day. And also SUCK IT ONG.

Sincerely,
A much abused customer who only uses your services because she has no other options

A codicil

Okay, so if you've been hanging around this joint for the last few years, you've probably read about my final wishes once I've shuffled off this mortal coil.
And I'm not even joking you.
HOWEVER.
Late one night I had a ...if I do say so myself...BRILLIANT IDEA.
Also it made me laugh a lot because it is sort of sick and twisted and totally Me.
Maybe a little gross too.

I have decided to be cremated - seriously, who wants to take up space and have groundwater (possibly SEWER WATER EW) seepage and rats trying to chew in to eat your face?
NOT ME.

So cremation.
And a memorial service at which My Final Wishes are strictly followed -- with an added...bonus.

I am going to get keychains with little urns (or GENIE LAMPS! YES!) attached to them, and EVERYONE GETS A SCOOP OF ME TO TAKE HOME.
Like a party favor.

No, you have to take me. It's the rule.
Also I am hoping (FINGERS CROSSED!!) that this makes haunting easier.
Because I'm totes hoping that God and I can come to some agreement on that.
Yeah.
Putting the Fun into Funeral.
The recessional music will be Paul Young singing:
Every time you go away
You take a piece of me with you
You'll be there, right?

me thinks.

It's funny how sometimes a person can often hurt your feelings (unintentionally, I hope I'm sure) with careless words, thoughtlessness or just plain old forgetfulness...but you don't say anything about it because you don't want THEM to feel bad.

---

I get way more than I give.
Sorry about that.

---

There's no business like ho business.
Someone should write a song about that.

---

The commercial that says "Switch to Cox" makes me laugh and wonder if it's a subliminal PSA for lesbians.

---

I hate it when someone does a nice thing for you and then makes you feel obligated FOREVER. It's like indentured ass-kissitude.

---

You ever feel like your brain is a TV only someone else has the remote and won't stop channel surfing? Or looking for free porn?
Oh wait, that last thing is something else entirely. Whoops.

Single Mother's Day - a guest post

Every once in awhile, someone will request a little space for a guest post - sometimes they want a different readership from their "regulars", or anonymity, or (and this I find unbelievable) they are actually BLOGLESS.
Heaven forfend!
Of course this space is always available to those people as long as they're willing to dust the cobwebs from the corners first and clean up any debris or destruction if they post something controversial - with the caveat that I will most likely correct any misspellings or glaringly obvious grammatical and punctuation errors.
I CAN'T HELP IT.
I don't notice my own typos, but I sure can see the ones other people make.
Sorry.
Anyway.
On Mother's Day, I gave a passing thought to the single moms like me who have no ex around to remind the kids to make mommy a card or to buy them a gift "from the kids", or even just say "tell your mom Happy Mother's Day".
Turns out one of my closest friends (and fellow member of the Single Mom's Club) was on the same wavelength, and she's sent her thoughts on the matter.

Please welcome first time guest poster, Jami (yaaaaah me) Reyes.
Show her some comment love, if you please.

Jami sez:

I saw a Facebook post the other day that got me thinking. It was a post about celebrating "military wives". Women who stay home while their husbands are shipped out for military duty. I got to thinking... how come we don't have a "single moms" day? Don't get me wrong, I respect military families and I'm thankful for their service to this country. But what about the single moms? The single moms who raise respectable young men and women who will eventually serve this country. Maybe not always in the military but definitely to society.

Why don't they get a day?

I'm not talking about the single moms who have exes in the picture... dads who are involved in their children's lives. I'm talking about the single moms who haven't seen their exes since the day the baby was born. The single moms whose husbands disappeared when things just didn't go the way they planned. The single moms who are mom and dad to their kids ALL the time and don't get two weekends off.  You know those moms? The ones who wake up in the morning, make coffee, take the laundry out from the night before, make school lunches, drop kids off at school, then go to work all day, pick up their kids at daycare or afterschool, come home and make dinner, go over homework, study the spelling words, get baths ready, throw in a load of laundry, clean up the kitchen, put kids to bed and then wake up the next day to do it all over again... every day... seven days a week, 365 days a year... for life. I'm talking about the single mom who balances her life and her finances depending on one person: herself.  I'm talking about the single mom who doesn't wait for her child support check every month because there isn't one. The single mom who wakes up in the middle of the night wondering how she's going to make ends meet this month, or if college is in the kids' future because there isn't enough money to put into that savings account, or how she really wishes she could go on the "girl's trip to Vegas" but she doesn't have anyone to leave the kids with or the money to spend.

Next time you think of how hard it is because your ex is late picking up the kids, think of the single mom whose ex just never bothered showing up one day... seven years ago.


**Holla at me if you want to guest post

The 3rd anniversary of my 40th birthday...

...and I'm watching the video that my very fabulous friend Jami made for me on my birthday last year.

I'm feeling generous today so I thought I'd share it with you again.

WINNING!

Say, maybe ol' Crazy Sheen was on to something, because WINNING! is definitely better than...not winning.

See, I will be FORTY-THREE NEXT WEEK.
OMG.
43.
43.
43.
I have no idea how this could have happened.
ANYWAY, with the number 43 comes somewhat saggy facial skin, with
dryness and crinkles and lines, OH MY!

And I heard about this stuff - NuGlow Skincare - and I went to the website and they were having a contest!
(WINNING!)
Of course I love free stuff (because I am poor and can't usually BUY) AND I like to enter contests because it adds a little excitement to my daily humdrummery.

I think you know how this story is going to turn out.
(WINNING!)

I LOVE WINNING!
Thank you NuGlow Skincare - I can't wait to try it out.

And PS for the rest of you (43) lower-middle-aged ladies, I will be happy to let you know how well it works.
Maybe it will make me look like Natalie Portman or some other hot young chick.
One never knows, do one?
HEY IT COULD HAPPEN.
(WINNING!)

Living in a CSI world

I often have the tv on when I'm at the studio doing the photography portion of my job. We have really limited cable - in fact, there are only like 5 extra stations, one of which is the weather channel and another is so snowy you can't see it. AND they changed Bravo's station so I can't even watch re-runs of old seasons of Project Runway anymore.
I'm not into talk shows, Jerry Springer or that bouncer of his, Steve Whatever, who has HIS own show too apparently.
As a result, I watch a lot of Matlock and In The Heat of the Night.
If nothing else, they're amusing.
Yesterday I found myself yelling at Matlock "YOU ARE CONTAMINATING THE CRIME SCENE! You're walking around getting your hair and oldpeople skin all over everything!!!" and then at Archie Bunker/Chief Bill Gillespie "STOP TOUCHING STUFF WITH YOUR BARE HANDS! Now they'll NEVER get good prints! WHERE ARE THE GLOOOOVES?????"
And I laugh when I watch the policemen stroll casually into a building wherein a robbery has just taken place, holding their guns awkwardly pointed at nothing and not clearing a room. Clearly Horatio and Gary Sinise have spoiled me.

Perhaps even more disturbingly, Bubba is starting to look hot.

Sweet 16

---

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SWEET 16s!

---

'Tis time for the annual birthday post. Mostly I'm too lazy to re-write it, but I did at least put a new picture at the bottom.
Actually today I'm sitting here wondering how I got old enough to have 16-year-old chilluns. (YES THAT'S RIGHT, IT'S ALL ABOUT ME ME ME!)
AND how I've managed to not completely ruin them (yet) despite my very best efforts.

Anyway, if you've read all this (several times) before, I give you my permission just to skip to the bottom & see the latest picture and my bit of addendum.

---

THE DUE DATE: June 4. But oh no, my impatient children arrived February 13.
Yeah, that's pretty early.

Born at 24 weeks after 24 hours of labor, which the doctors tried to stop.
My son came first, in the usual way. (in this picture he was actually one month and one day old)




As they were wheeling me to recovery, my daughter's heart rate dropped to zero, and she was removed by emergency C-section fifty-six minutes after her brother was delivered. (and she is one month and one day old here)




Barely over a single pound each. Barely 12 inches long.

They struggled for every single breath. They fought to live.

And so they did.
Thank you, God.

For this little miracle....(my girl at about 2 months)





and this little miracle...(my boy at about 3 or 4 months)




The doctors gave them less than a 50% chance of survival.
Fortunately they got my stubborn genes.

My girl here is about a year and a half old, this is one of my favorite pictures of her~she looks so pensive.




And here is my sister with two skinny little babies:




One morning I discovered that my daughter knew how to climb into her brother's crib..




And she always....




...always has loved him best.



(yes, her mouth is blue...she was putting eye shadow on. On her lips. Yep. You should have seen what she did to me earlier that day with lipstick...whilst I was catnapping on the couch.)

When she was about two, this is what "Go get ready for bed" meant:





Already trying to fill mommy's shoes, trailing that damned oxygen hose behind her (that I tripped on a thousand and one times):




Here's my little guy at about 6 or 7 months old, when he finally got to come home from the hospital...




He had the softest, wispiest hair so I let it grow and grow...





























There was a lot of bleeding in their brains. There were under-developed lungs and folded ears and they looked like scrawny little red spider monkeys. There were central lines and ventilators and beds under heat lamps like the burger shelf at McDonalds. There were middle-of-the-night phone calls with doctors on the other end of the line telling me that they didn't think this one or that one would make it through the night. There were enlarged hearts and lungs covered with scar tissue and a million little junkie scars on arms and hands and feet and ankles from blood tests and central lines and perc lines and blood-gas testing every hour. There was six months in the NICU and 3 or 4 Thanksgivings and Christmases spent in the hospital.
There was RDS and BPD and ROP and a bunch of other things with initials that I barely understood.
Staph infections and even a broken arm that was caused by changing my son's shirt - tiny little brittle bones.
All that and so much more...
and yet, here we are today, 16 years later.

How could I not believe in a higher power? In miracles?

I love you, my babies. I'm thankful for every breath that you take, every blink of your eyes, every morning that you wake. I love you with everything inside me.
You make me laugh, you make me cry, you make me want to smack you upside your heads.


If all the world was a beach, I would love you more than all the grains of sand added together. Times ten million.

Happy, happy birthday.

Gifts you WANT to have returned

The gifts of love and friendship.
Always returnable, never a wait in line or a hassle at the counter.
No rude salesclerks or paperwork to fill out.

So this is the time of year when people typically post their favorite posts of the previous year (well, clearly I like ALL my posts or else I would not publish them, DOY) or they post their RARELY KEPT New Year's Resolutions (and we all know that I prefer "suggestions" over resolutions)...but something way better came up and I want to tell you about it.

2010 was not an incredible year for me. I mean, it was okay, but mostly not. There seemed to be twice as many life-bumps as usual, including but not limited to:
2 days before I was to leave for BlogHer AND my first ever trip to NYC... the transmission went out on my car
Which led to me not getting to go to BlogHer
AND having a non-refundable airline ticket, so, you know, money down the toilet
AND not getting to see any of my online friends in person this year at all
So no car, no trip, no friends. No money. No fun. Boo.
Then I borrowed my stepmom's truck...and squirrels ATE THE WIRES.
AND I got a 3/4 inch splinter straight up through the ball of my foot.
Plus of course the everyday stress of raising a couple of teenagers by myself and working all the time and dealing with disabilities and changing diapers and and and ...
None of these things are hugely tragic, just stressful, disappointing, and...well, painful.
So I'm glad they're behind me. I hate to complain, but srsly I was nearly at the I CANNOT HANDLE ONE SINGLE OTHER THING point.

But see, there are these people....

You know, as much as I despise people in general, it is apparent that in regard to bosom pals (heehee, I said bosom) I have chosen most wisely. In fact, when it comes to friends, I can state willingly, honestly, emphatically that I Have The Best Ones.
They persist in liking me despite my best efforts. Clearly they're somewhat insane.

Oh sure sure, I'm sure you think your friends are better, but they're really not. Sorry.

See, a few weeks ago I wrote this post about the iPad and finding some apps for kids with disabilities - and the thought of being able to actually COMMUNICATE with my son after 15 years of guesswork.
I mean, it's disheartening at times, not knowing what to do for him, not knowing if he's hungry or tired, if his head hurts or he's just thirsty or wants attention... for kids with cerebral palsy and mental retardation a lot of the childraising is just making it up as you go along and hoping for the best. It's hoping that he understands when I say "I love you", even though I know I'll never get to hear him say it back. It's wonderful and terrible and terrifying and humbling and heart-breaking.

My friends read the post and understood.

And for Christmas, they bought my son and me an iPad and gift cards to buy an app that will allow my son to TELL ME WHAT HE NEEDS.
If you're saying UNBELIEVABLE! to yourself right now, that's exactly what I said when I opened the box. Right before I sat down and put my head on my desk and cried like a little girl.

You may not understand how incredibly HUGE this is, for both myself and my boy, but that's okay. *I* know. And there have not been big enough, good enough, words invented yet to convey how thankful and appreciative I am.
All I can say is thank you, thank you so very much, with the whole of my heart.
And? I love you back.

---

---

This post dedicated to:
Alicia
Don
Wendy
Rob
Jay
Loretta
Beth
Natalie
Jen
Mark
Jeckles
Amber
Marc 
Heather
Jami
and
Lisa
The Friday Night Live Gang

and the winner is....

To keep things fair -- NOT that I would play favorites because you know you are ALL my favorite, right? - the winner was chosen by random.org
Each of you was assigned a number according to what comment # you were.

SO WITHOUT FURTHER ADO...
The Oscar goes to The Tassimo Brewbot goes to...


ALICIA STALEY !!! (you can find her on twitter, @stales)
Congrats STALIOOOOOOO!


And a gigantic THANK YOU to everyone who left a comment!

MERRY CHRISTMAS TO MEEEE and YOU! But mostly ME.

Most of you who stop by here know me pretty well - I mean, we HAVE been together for the last 5 or 6 years after all. And you know that I looooves me coffee. LOVE-with-a-capital-L LOVE.
As soon as my daughter was tall enough to reach the sink tap I taught her to make coffee so that should I ever break both my arms or become otherwise incapacitated, someone could make the coffee (and serve it to me, doy).
Now I am NOT like my uncle, who is one of those people who, if they don't finish the pot, don't mind REHEATING IT THE NEXT DAY OMG.
Barf.
But unfortunately I DO let a lot of coffee go to waste, because I'll make a full pot and drink 2 or 3 cups and then get busy and the coffee pot will automatically turn off after 2 hours. Then I'll forget about it for awhile and when I remember, what happens is that I just make a whole other fresh pot. and repeat.

Then one fine day I was approached by a representative from Tassimo who offered to let me give the BrewBot a try so of course I'm all OH HELL YEAH BABY! Or words to that effect.

It arrived today (OH AND PS: UPS, YOU AND I ARE GONNA HAVE WORDS, MISTER. YOU DELIVERED THIS TO MY NEIGHBOR) and when I walked up on the porch I grabbed the box and I... well, I hugged it. And possibly wept a tiny tear of joy. There may have been a booty-shaking little dance as well but I'd never tell you that.

I DID have a small disappointment though - when I opened the box and took out Brewster (that's his name, yo), I kept waiting for him to open up and start busting some moves like he does on the commercial.
FYI: if you wait for yours to start dancing around or pushing buttons for you, you are doomed to heartbreak.

ANYWAY.

This is the cutest coffeepot ever! It's small and space-saving (which is excellent because my kitchen is about the size of a postage stamp and I have about a square foot of counter space), and SO easy to use!
Also?
THE FUNNEST COFFEE POT IN THE WORLD. (yes I said funnest and I meant it even though I know I should say "most fun" but whatever and WHOSE BLOG IS THIS ANYWAY?)
You can make one cup at a time so that it is ALWAYS fresh - and maybe I want a cuppa black coffee right now but want some French vanilla next? Easy peasy lemon squeezy. I can have 5 different flavors one right after another if I want. I AM THE BOSS OF COFFEE.

I made STARBUCKS Primo Latte just now - it was easy and took like one minute and YUM. In the morning I'm going to try the Gevalia. I can't wait to try some Chai tea and I know Becca will want some hot chocolate.

So if you still need an excellent Christmas gift for your favorite coffee drinkers, GO GET THEM A BREWBOT. They will love you for it.
And you will thank me later.

*****TASSIMO WANTS TO SEND YOU A BREWBOT TOO! Leave a comment HERE and ONE will be randomly chosen on CHRISTMAS EVE!*****

P.S. Thanks can be expressed in the form of extravagant gifts like diamond jewelry and good ol' cash. FYI.
P.P.S. If you is fine and single, you can thank me in some...other way. Use your imagination.
P.P.P.S. Just kidding about that "thank me in some other way" thing. Sort of. Mostly.

---

---

---

Stuff I feel obligated to tell you even though it makes me roll my eyes and sigh a lot, but you know how people get their panties in a bunch knickers in a twist over the silliest things.
1. Yes, the Tassimo Brewbot was given to me to review.
2. No, there were no conditions, instructions, or even suggestions as to when or what or how I should blog about it
3. If you've been reading here for any length of time, you know that I HAVE PRINCIPLES, DAMMIT.
4. I only tell you good stuff about a product if I believe it to be true.
5. Dude. Trust me.

An FYI PSA

Do NOT - not EVER - buy Ajax with Bleach Alternative LIME Dishwashing Liquid.
It smells like high-school bathroom. I'm not even kidding.
The ruby-red grapefruit scent? Good. Lemon or Orange? Definitely good.
Lime = The Root Of All That Is Evil and Unholy.
Mother Nature never intended for anything to smell like that. *gak*
So do yourself a favor and get one of the OTHER scents or fork over the extra Fitty Cent (haha) to get Dawn or Palmolive or something.
YOU. ARE. WELCOME.

---

---

---

No, I was not asked to review this nor given any free samples. I did this for you out of the kindness of my heart because I didn't think you'd want your kitchen to smell like the can.

In case you missed it. Or ignored it. Or forgot.

Back by popular demand (and by "popular" I mean "no one at all")...
The perpetually lovely and overly modest Kay Ballard oh-so-graciously demanded over my protests invited me to join her once again on her super popular radio show, Women Are Not Funny!
Give it a listen. You've got an hour to kill.

#23878 Why I Hate People

Dear EBAY BUYERS:

If we list something with the actual size printed on the designer's label AND we put aaaaalllllll the measurements as well FOR YOUR CONVENIENCE, it would be nice if you didn't leave a neutral or negative feedback just because YOU CAN'T FIT YOUR FAT ASS IN THE JEANS.
OMG.

Thanks.
Love,
Me

I may become an iPad fan yet

So I've mostly pooh-poohed the idea of the iPad - I mean sure, they look really cool and fun to play with and stuff, but did I NEED one? No. I've got 2 pcs and a netbook. I can't afford an iPhone or any kind of smart phone, but I haven't really noticed that I'm missing out on anything except playing Angry Birds or word games and frankly I don't have time for that anyway.

But then today, I saw that the iPad has apps for disabled kids.

I teared up at the thought that after 15 years, I might finally be able to communicate with my non-verbal son.
Maybe for the first time, he could actually TELL me that he's hungry or tired or has a headache. That he's thirsty, or angry.
For me, that's nearly impossible to hope for.

I think about 95% of people probably take for granted the ability to communicate with their children. To ask and be answered. And to be quite honest if I had "normal" kids I would be in that same 95% (PS I just pulled that number out of my ass, I have no statistics to back it up)
I just wish my boy could tell me where it hurts, but he can't.

SO! My goal for next year is to save up for an iPad, even though I have done WAY more than my fair share of eyerolling and being secretly resentful over the thing. It's going to be hard on a budget that barely allows for a splurge of a paperback book once a month, but I think I can do it.
Too bad I'm not one of those "popular" mommyblogger types who gets everything given to them for free (HINT HINT, APPLE PEOPLE).

This could change EVERYTHING.

Grudge Match

I used to be the world's best grudge-holder.
I didn't MEAN to be, but according to my parents (who never fail to remind me that I "only remember the bad stuff")(which is weird, because clearly they're the ones remembering bad stuff that I've LOOONG forgotten), I could hold a grudge forever.

But the older I get, the quicker I am to forgive, and it always surprises me when people don't accept an apology.

And although I forgive, I can't always forget. Which is ALSO weird because I am growing more forgetful all the time.
It's not like I sit and BROOD about it or anything, it's more that it just hangs around in my head and gives my belly a squinch of anxiety every so often.

I try and try to let things go, but I find I am harboring some resentments.

How do you let stuff go, when you think you've sincerely forgiven someone but it WON'T GO AWAY?
Are you surprised when you apologize and people keep beating you up over the issue?

Seeking Minions

Qualifications:

Prefer short and shadowy with glowing white eyes but will consider other types (EMEOC* Compliant)

Must be versatile: able to head-stab and fetch me a venti quad mocha, xtra-hot no-whip with equal panache

Must be on call 24/7 because YOU JUST NEVER KNOW WHEN I'LL NEED A MINION.

Uprisings (against enemies/frienemies only) encouraged

Must be a "Yes-Person" and able to do the Bobblehead NodAlong

Must work for free.

Please submit applications ASAP - position open for immediate start.

---

*Equal Minion Employment Opportunity Commission

How I Spent My Weekend: A Pictorial Essay

I went to visit my dad & stepmom for the weekend -- it was the first time I'd been to their house since they moved out of Town (a small town) and into The Country.
And I DO mean 'country', complete with one-lane dirt (MUD) road and tree-obscured signposts.
It's one of those places you have to get to by landmarks - you know, "turn left when you get to that lightnin'-struck oak tree, which is about a half-mile past the red barn that has the giant rooster weathervane. If you get to where you can see the blue truck still up in the tree from the last tornado, you've gone too far".

It was FABULOUS. Also the first weekend I've not worked in...I don't even know how long.
**please to excuse the pix, they were taken with a camera phone

The pear tree in the backyard is obscenely abundant this year:

I spent a lot of time down at the fishin' hole...

Where I ran into KERMIT!

This dude was in camo - he was right between my feet. Can you see him?

I tried to catch it - I only needed this one and about 500 more to make a nice meal. MMM FROG LEGS:

ME GET FOOD!:

I wanted to make some Turtle Soup but someone beat me to it:

My offspring knows how to catch her supper too...:

...because Grandpa is a good teacher:

And there were PARACHUTERS!!! I wish you could see these - they were right next to the sun so I had to point & shoot and hope for the best. The tiny black speck? A parachuter!

I feel like a John Denver song.

10/22/88 - 10/22/2010

If I was still married, today would be my wedding anniversary.

22 years on the 22nd.
IF I was still married.
Which, as you know, I am most definitely NOT.

I have mixed emotions.

I remember being young, in love, and hopeful...
(also DO NOT DIS THE HAT, IT WAS THE 80s FOR CRAP'S SAKE)

And I remember loathing the asshat I married (now THERE is a story in itself, and it ain't pretty)...

It was a poor decision (we've established that those're about the only kind I know how to make) by a too-young & not-wise-enough girl who had to learn the hard way.
But it was a lesson learned that will never be forgotten.

Sometimes I miss that girl. But only a little bit.
Happy anniversary to me.

Back to Basics

Aaahhh, I'd forgotten how it is to blog for the sake of...well, blogging.
I know, I know, I'm late to that particular party. Some of you have remained true to your original blogging plan, some have strayed and returned, some have reincarnated and found a new home.

I've resisted returning to regular blogging because I don't have a niche. What's more, I don't WANT one. I don't want to have an "elevator pitch" to blurt out when people ask "what's your blog about?". It's about everything and nothing. It's about anything I want.
It's about kids and disabilities, work and play, it's about how I feel the gas company bending me over every winter and about random stuff that *I* find amusing, whether anyone else gets it or not. It's about inappropriate funeral humor and ranting and soapboxing and bra reviews.

Last night it felt really good to unload some feelings I've been hauling around so that I can deal with them properly. I'd forgotten that I need to examine my issues so that I can fix them. It was like blowing out the cobwebs and I feel ... nicer, today.
Well, relatively speaking.

Nowadays so many blogs are all about the angle, the motive, the monetizing. Hey, that makes no nevermind to me - none of my business. Whatever works for you.
But I remember the days before mommybloggers went rabid over advertisements and logos. The days when tech bloggers often amused us with personal posts. When no one talked CONSTANTLY and INFINITELY about branding and social media and monetize this and that. When there were like 3 blogging conferences a year and they were A Big Deal. (well, they still are A Big Deal to me)
Our once pretty tight community has spread and changed with facebook and twitter.

Remember Michele Agnew's weekend Meet & Greets? Those helped keep me on track with the blogging, because HEY! People were going to come here to say HELLO, MICHELE SENT ME and I needed to have something NEW!
Also I somehow had more time back then.
Now I spend a LOT more time on email - which I love, don't get me wrong. I couldn't get through my day without email from a certain couple of someones who know who they are.
With them, I haven't really needed to blog like I used to. So you can just blame them for my rusty blogskillz.

But yeah, this feels nice. For the moment.

My blog is me, in text form.
What's yours? Has it changed, evolved?

Dear My Blog:

Hello, you.
I've missed you. Have you missed me?
I gave myself some advice today - sometimes you have to go back to the beginning and start over.
I guess that way a person can see where she might have strayed from the path.
The trick is to NOT TAKE THE SAME FORK IN THE ROAD.
I mean really, that just sounds like good common sense, right? But I surprise myself with the propensity for doing things the exact same way even if I didn't like the outcome the first (or second or third or even fourth) time.

So, my blog, my friend, my pal, remember when you and I started together, back in LiveJournal land? So much ANGST! ANXIETY! PRESSURE!
Those were the Zoloft years.
I'd forgotten how much you smoothed my rough edges.

So I thought I'd tell you - because hey, we all need to hear it, right? - some of the reasons I love you, blog.

1. You never criticize me. Which is good, because you ALSO know how much I don't like to be criticized. Even if it seems like I'm taking it well, I'm really NOT.

2. You always allow me to share my feelings, good and bad, and never once have you told me I was wrong to feel that way. You don't interrupt and you always let it be all about ME, if that's how I want it.

3. You don't analyze me, you don't pick me apart, and you're never mean on purpose. You let ME be mean on purpose though, and I really love that you don't judge me for it. Well, there have been a couple of disapproving looks but I knew you just did that for form's sake.

4. No matter how badly I screw it up, you never hold it against me. You comfort me instead and help me realize that next time will be better. You make me feel better instead of bad about myself.

5. You let me vent, cry, laugh, snark, yell, complain, swear, talk about sex toys and cleaning products and chocolate fried pies...and you always let me be exactly who I am.

Blog, it's good to be home. And remembering why I moved in here in the first place.
Oh, and thanks for not moving without telling me, like my parents did that one time.

Say....

Have you ever been sitting at work and feel a little tickle on your foot and you glance down & you don't see anything so maybe it's just a piece of lint or fuzz or a hair and then you feel it again later and don't bother looking except it keeps tickling and then you look and IT IS A SPIDER and then you scream and jump up and kick out and of course you're wearing flipflops so your shoe goes sailing across the room and almost takes out your co-worker's earring and then nearly cracks the window?
No?
Oh, me neither. I was just asking for someone else.

What the WHAT?

I keep forgetting how to blog.
I'm all OH THIS IS SO BLOGGABLE and then I forget by the time I sit in front of the computer.
Or else maybe I'm taking less showers than I used to, because everyone knows showering is the best way to percolate a post.
No? Just me?

TWO THINGS.

1. If you're local to OKC, (or just visting, whatever), I invite you to check out Mayhem At The Market on Sept. 30th. If you're into boxing, kick-boxing (KICK-BOXING, SPORT OF THE FUTURE! I LOVE YOU LLOYD DOBLER), or Mixed Martial Arts, you'll have a great time and get caught up in the excitement of live matches!
IT IS GOING TO BE FUN. OR ELSE.
I mean...please come!

B. Big thank you to KLOUT and FOX TV's Lone Star for the most awesome Party Pack they sent!
As soon as Jami & Lisa get theirs, we gon' have us a LONE STAR WATCH PARTY!
Plus I had to order some Lonely Guy cardboard cut outs so I could have some guests.

OH YEAH I get to preview Lone Star BEFORE the rest of you losers who have to wait until the September 20th premiere and they gave me the party pack but I am NOT OBLIGATED TO SAY ANYTHING ABOUT THEM AT ANY TIME.

**official disclaimer type thingy so you people don't get all up on your soapboxes or high horses or whatever:
I was given a free product or sample because I'm a Klout influencer. I was under no obligation to receive the sample or talk about this company. I get no additional benefits for talking about the product or company.


SO THERE.

This concludes our advertising and promotion for this week.

Make me laugh. I dare you.

I have an assload of work this week and I'm stressed and crabby.
So play a game in the comments and make me laugh.
Just write a sentence or two and together we will make a story...

"It was a dark and stormy night. I was alone in my kitchen, heating up some milk to go with my bottle of whisky, when all of a sudden..."

Because sometimes Life Sucks And Then You...Don't Get To Go To BlogHer

Due to a series of bad-luck and bad-timing circumstances beyond my control (far too long and boring to go into right now), I've had to cancel my trip to BlogHer NYC.
My heart hurts.

I've never been to New York and so of course I'm extremely disappointed about that, but mostly I am sad over the fact that I will not get to spend this tiny but essential bit of time with my friends - some of whom I was (anticipating with great delight) going to meet face-to-face for the first time.

Don't you hate it when Real Life gets in the way?
(P.S. PLEASE FEEL FREE TO SEND ME SOME SWAG. I love that stuff.)

Well that's certainly nervy.

I'm sure many of you remember THIS EMAIL from StepfordMomCentral I got recently?
Well imagine my surprise when I got another "review opportunity" in my email today!
Clearly one hand doesn't know what the other is doing because they've grown and expanded (AND lost or moved all the good and wonderful ladies with whom I loved communicating)...OOORRRR maybe they're just sadistic Mean Girls and want to twist the knife, taunting me with another opportunity  so that they can summarily REJECT ME YET AGAIN as they have for EVERY review I've signed up for in the past year.
I imagine them cackling madly and sneering and saying "HAHA LOOKIT SHE'S SO DUMB SHE'S GOING TO ATTEMPT IT AGAAAAIIIINNNN! Now let's see if we can make her bang her head into a brick wall!"

Okay, not really -- clearly my little blog and I don't matter so much in the grand scheme of things.
I am just amazed at the ABSOLUTE NERVE.
If I was the last blogger standing, I wouldn't review a product for MomCentral.
But it sucks because I wouldn't mind checking out the sunblock wipes.

Where's akaMonty?

Let's play a game!
As previously mentioned, I will be traveling to BlogHer '10 wearing this:

And I will be coming from Will Rogers Airport & landing at LaGuardia, via changeover at DFW.

You can find me here Thursday night:

FIND ME!

And remember...

THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT.

The game is... come and find me. You will receive the prize of one hug. Or handshake. Or smooch if you're someone I think will let me smooch them. I have breath mints.
WELL HELL I DIDN'T SAY IT WAS A GOOD GAME.
Also it has the crappiest prizes ever. But WTF THEY ARE FREE SO SHUT IT.
That is all.
Have a day.

Forget Foursquare: How to find me in The NYC.

I have a shirt made every year for traveling to BlogHer. (P.S. THANK YOU VistaPrint for free t-shirts!)

It actually comes in handy... my first one was for San Francisco a couple years ago, and to my great good fortune I was spotted by Schmutzie and she was my very first blogger contact in SFO. 

She is beautiful and delightful and brainy and I was so so so glad to connect with her in the airport! Together we found our way to a shuttle and to the hotel and 2 years later I still think she is totally ginchy. <3

So if you are in an airport or on a shuttle bus or in a taxi on your way to New York City next month and you see the chubby lady with (lots and lots and lots of) "laugh lines" wearing this shirt, PLEASE COME TALK TO ME. 

PLEASE.

For reals.

---

As BlogHer '10 creeps closer every day at the speed of light ...well, I have mixed emotions about it.

Don't get me wrong - I LOVE going. I love almost everything about it: I love renewing friendships, spending time with people I adore but only get to be with once a year, meeting many blog-pals in person AT LAST... I love the swag, I love the awesome meals... I love the topics and the speakers and of course all of the people who work so hard every year to make BlogHer a success. I love visiting cities to which I've never been, seeing sights I've never seen, eating food (like my first attempt at sushi in San Francisco with Fausta, Mamacita, and Kimberly!) that I've never eaten...smooching Karl (don't be hatin' because you're jealous).

But if you truly know the real me then you're aware of one of my biggest secrets: I. Am. Painfully. Shy.

In fact, my first experience at a BlogHer conference was as a speaker on this very topic.

My online self, while it is totally real and completely me, is also much braver about "speaking up and speaking out".

My online self doesn't hesitate to type what I might only THINK in the "real" world for fear of embarrassment or a joke that falls flat or a reference that no one gets.

On the other hand...

My offline self does not go out of her way to avoid confrontation, but she is somewhat more tactful and more hesitant to speak up and out.

My offline self is shy.

My offline self is cursed with incredibly low self esteem and wonders why anyone would possibly want to be around her. 

My offline self hangs on the fringes of the groups for fear of being thought too pushy, or too loud, or too TOO.

My offline self is envious that she is not more of a joiner and doesn't get the "cool" party invitations... although she'd probably be too shy to go anyway. MAYBE.

My offline self is currently suffering anxiety at the thought of the crowds and the people and the cliques and the groups of friends to which I long to belong.

I only remind you of all these things so that if you recognize me at BlogHer and I do not speak or return your wave, it's only because I was busy looking at my feet or the ground and I didn't see you, or there was so much noise that I didn't hear you.

And if you're waiting for me to come up to you first... well, good luck with that.

It's only because I tend to freeze up with the pressure. 

But once you get to know me? Well, I am at least somewhat likeable. 

Or so people tell me.

If you're desperate for friends I mean.

Unless of course you LOATHE me online, then you will also most likely loathe me in person.

Just know that I am DYING to talk to you.

And all my misanthropic tendencies will be carefully put away until I get back home.

Promise.

Breaking in to Rock Star

I am taking a well earned break from bitching and so decided to steal a MEME (I KNOW. SHUT IT.) from the one and only Karl Erikson (I pretend he's my boyfriend sometimes, and say things like "OH, my internet boyfriend Karl does THIS and says THAT and LALALALALA" so that people stop giving me That Look because I am 42 and unmarried and then they don't want to introduce me to their boyfriends and husbands because CLEARLY I AM A BLACK WIDOW/COUGAR TYPE and OMG I forgot what I was even talking about just now. What?).

SO.
I saw this at Karl's place and he said it'd been around forever but I've never seen it so HOORAY, COOL!
I thought it was not only nifty, but also swell.

Here's the what:

Album Cover Meme

1 – Go to “wikipedia.” Hit “random”
or click en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Special:Random
The first random wikipedia article you get is the name of your band.

2 – Go to “Random quotations”
or click http://www.randomquotes.org/
The last four or five words of the very last quote of the page is the title of your first album.

3 – Go to flickr and click on “explore the last seven days”
or click www.flickr.com/explore/interesting/7days
Third picture, no matter what it is, will be your album cover.

4 – Use photoshop or similar to put it all together.

My band Apia just released our debut album, "The Sum Of Both Of Us".

I hope you enjoy it.

It is truly awesome.

PLUS if you order now, you will receive the 30 cd set of "Polkas Through The Ages" ABSOLUTELY FREE! That's a value of over $7500 and can be yours only by calling our toll free number RIGHT NOW!

1-800-YOU-SUCK

Thank you for calling!

---

**original photo located here

From the "Are you fucking KIDDING ME right now?" Files

As many of you are aware, I have been a big fan of Mom Central and the people I've worked with there (IN THE PAST, I MEAN) for a couple-three years. I used to get a ton of blog tours - in fact, there were a couple of months that I had several reviews in a row.
Mom Central and Mother Talk... ah yes, in the beginning when they were starting out and wanted blogs that seemed to have a decent readership. I also recommended Mom Central & Mothertalk to several of my favorite fellow bloggers, helped bring them on board so that we could share recommendations about different products, services, and books.

Sadly, it appears that they've fallen victim to the Too Big For Their Britches Syndrome.
They don't need little old ME any more.

They keep sending me offers and I keep signing up --- and I keep getting rejected.
WTF?
Finally about a week ago after YET ANOTHER REJECTION, I replied that I was very disappointed that for the last year I hadn't been given any tours.

TODAY I GET THIS EMAIL:

Hi Shannon,

We conduct periodic evaluations of our Blog Roll for quality assurance purposes to ensure that all blogs meet the needs of our brand partners. At this point, due to some of the editorial content of your blog (for example, the use of swear words), we don’t feel as though you are a good fit for Mom Central campaigns. We will conduct another evaluation in a few months and would be happy to re-evaluate your blog at that time.

Please let me know if you have any questions, we would be more than happy to jump on the phone to talk with you about this further. 

Thanks and have a great holiday weekend,

Elizabeth

Elizabeth Chapin 

Project Manager

Mom Central Consulting

So...I guess moms don't swear?


I was always under the impression that the WAY I wrote my blog, without pretense or fakery or suck-uppiness, is WHY Mom Central picked me in the first place.

But clearly MOMS DON'T GET TO SAY FUCK.
OR SHIT.
Or talk about dildos.
Well you can keep your blog tours and products - it's not worth having to be someone I'm not just to tell people how much I love Clorox products.

NICE GOING, STEPFORDMOM CENTRAL.

Women Are Not Funny. Theoretically.

Clearly I am a natural choice.
Behold me in all my glory! This Friday at 4pm ET I will be the much honored and fêted (not fetid)(although some would debate that) superdeeduper special best of anyone ever guest on Women Are Not Funny with the much less popular but much prettier Kay Ballard!

You will want to be there, if only to make fun of me as I sit in awkward silence for 60 minutes before becoming belligerent and possibly drunk and do my best to ruin not only this particular show but also Kay's ENTIRE REPUTATION.

I mean, she's already got a bad reputation, but I'm talking about ruining her professionally. That kind of thing is just really fun for me.

Aaaaand I know my own show is on a temporary hiatus, I really think that I should celebrate being on Kay's show by having a Friday Night Live at its regular time - Friday night at 10pm EASTERN - wherein I will probably do a lot of smack talking about Kay and her fans.
If she has more than I do...well, prepare for some headstabbing.

To recap (because some of you NEVER PAY ATTENTION AND OH YEAH YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE AND I AM TALKING TO YOU):

FRIDAY July 2 at 4pm Eastern: Women Are Not Funny with me and Kay Ballard
FRIDAY July 2 at 10pm Eastern/9pm Central: Friday Night Live with me and some music and bitching and stuff. The usual.

The Counting Of The Blessings

I find that every so often it's a good idea to remember to be thankful for the little things that we tend to take for granted.

Things For Which I Am Thankful Today:

1. Waking up this morning.

2. Deodorant. (I wish everyone was as thankful for this as I am. Srsly.)

3. Whoever first got their chocolate in someone else's peanut butter.

4. Whoever first got their peanut butter on someone else's chocolate.

5. Toilet paper.

6. Duct tape.

7. O_____ B_________a.

8. Inside jokes. (see #7)

9. The person who thought baking soda and peroxide would make a great toothpaste.

10. You. (well, most of you. Or some of you. At least a few of you. You, and not that other guy.)

What are you thankful for today?

How do I put my life on a diet?

I try not to complain *too* much about the particular challenges in my life, especially the things I don't talk about here...or anywhere, really.
I'm superstitiously afraid I'll jinx it because THINGS CAN ALWAYS GET WORSE.

But some days I am completely overwhelmed with an inability to cope. I feel as though I'm held immobile by a 20 ton weight, filled mostly with Failure and Self-Pity.

Today is one of those days.

---

In other news, I "stole" a cigarette from my neighbor.
It made me sick and dizzy and was fan-fucking-tastic.
Don't judge.

FINALLY!

You remember the movie TWISTER? And the town where Helen Hunt's aunt lived, Wakita?
Right around there is currently getting pounded with severe baseball and softball sized hail and tornado ON THE GROUND (at least as of 10 minutes ago).
There are HOOK ECHOES! There is CYCLONIC ACTIVITY! WALL CLOUDS! CIRCULATIONS!
What does this mean??
IT IS TIME AT LAST to break out the annual
GARY ENGLAND DRINKING GAME!

---

I stole this from Sleeping Mommy a couple-three years ago, and if you have ever lived in Oklahoma this game will make perfect sense to you.
Hell, if you've ever visited Oklahoma in the spring or summer, it will make perfect sense to you.

Have fun!
and GO HANK! You're my dude!
GARY ENGLAND DRINKING GAME
(I left SleepingMommy's comments in parentheses because they made me giggle)

*Pregame

*1. Everyone selects a storm chaser other than Val Castor.
(Monty sez: I choose Hank when I just want a little buzz. He doesn't get as much action)
(Val lives in Stillwater and Gary talks to him CONSTANTLY.)
Every time Gary talks to your storm chaser, you take one drink.
Take two drinks every time we see footage from your storm chaser.
Take four drinks if your storm chaser says "tornado on the ground!"

2. Everyone selects a county other than Pottawatomie County.
(Because we are always hearing about Pottawatomie County.)
Every time Gary mentions your county, you take one drink.
Take two drinks every time we see footage from your county.
Take four drinks if a tornado touches down in your county.

*One drink

*1. Take one drink every time Gary says the following:
Hook Echo | Updraft | Metro | Doppler radar | Wall cloud |Ranger 9 | Underground | Mobile home
2. When Gary gives a list of counties, take one drink for every county in the list.
(Oklahoma has 77 counties but somehow they all get mentioned at some point.)
3. Take one drink every time Gary interrupts a program.
Take one drink if Gary says "You’re not missing any of [program name]." (This is a major concern damnit!)
Take one drink when Gary says "We’ll keep you advised." (Like we had any doubt that you wouldn’t.)

*Two drinks

*1. Take two drinks every time Gary says the following:
Baseball-sized hail | Waterloo Road | Pottawatomie County | Deer Creek High School (How many times has that high school been hit anyway?!?)
2. Take two drinks every time Gary mentions the following towns:
Altus | Burns Flat | Dill City | Gotebo | Hydro | Lookeba | Meeker | Mulhall | Oktaha | Olustee | Shattuck | Slaughterville | Tryon | Vici |Waukomis | Wayne (or Payne) | Weleetka | Wetumkah (The only one that is even slightly big is Altus.)
3. Take two drinks every time Gary talks to Val Castor. (Now we are gonna get really drunk!)

*Three drinks

*1. Take three drinks if we see footage from Val Castor.
2. Take three drinks if we see footage from Pottawatomie County.
3. Take three drinks if Gary mentions the following:
Immediate tornado precautions | National Weather Service | Mesocyclone | Portable Radio | Take shelter | Tornado warning in effect until ...

*Four drinks

*1. Take four drinks if Ranger 9 must land to refuel. (Notice it doesn't say when it lands to take cover, we don't land our aircraft in a tornado around here, we fly AROUND them.)
2. Take four drinks if Gary issues his own tornado warning, not recognized by the NWS (He's a renegade that way) or says the following:
"Will someone please answer that phone?" (He takes this stuff seriously damn it, answer the phone.) or "Do you see the power flashes?"
3. Take four drinks if a shirt-less tornado victim is interviewed. (Redneck land, yo. There is a reason I get dressed and put on shoes when a storm is in the vicinity.)

*Finish your drink

*1. Finish your drink if someone uses the word tornado as a verb or if Gary mentions the cross streets nearest to you.
2. If Gary says "We’ve lost Val," pour a little out for your homies and finish your drink. (Poor Val…)

---

If THAT won't get you drunk, it can't be done.

MY BIRTHDAY VIDEO!

My dear friend Jami made this for my birthday... ENJOY. I sure as hell did.

April 19. What a day.

Although I am not technically a "housewife" -- I work outside the home and I am NO kind of wife, the Real Housewives Of Oklahoma let me play with them anyway.

The Monday question from TheRHoK this week is "Where Were You On April 19, 1995?"

That was the day our Federal Building was bombed, and at that time the worst "Domestic Terrorist" strike. 168 lives were lost. Some of the faces of those lost ones were familiar ones to me.

1995 was the year my children were born. On this day in 1995, my children were still in Children's Hospital - far too close for comfort to the bomb site.
I remember going ballistic on the NICU staff because a bomb threat was called in to Children's Hospital, as well as the VA Hospital across the street (where my dad & stepmom both worked at the time), and they said THEY WERE NOT EVACUATING at that time.
They were "waiting" until closer to the time of the threat.
You can imagine how well that went over with this first time mom who's children were already in a touch-and-go situation, having been born three and a half MONTHS early.

When the truck-bomb went off in front of the Murrah building, I'd heard the roar and my windows shook a little, but having lived for years under the flight path of Tinker Air Force Base, I barely even noticed and if I thought about it at all, it was easy enough to put down to a sonic boom from passing aircraft.

Until I turned on the news and ... was devastated. I cried that whole day.
I didn't have a job at the time - I spent most of my time at the hospital with my kids.
This day I was at home by myself because I had a slight fever and cough and was not allowed in the NICU.

It was my birthday.

I'm glad it was my birthday, though bittersweet from then to now - because I will always, always remember the ones we lost.

STOP LOOKING AT MY EYES, my boobs are DOWN HERE

And lookin' pretty spiffy, if you ask me.

Those of you who REALLY know me, know how much I hate shopping. The only time I get even the smallest enjoyment is around Christmas time, and even then I do it begrudgingly because THERE ARE LOTS AND LOTS OF CROWDS AND PEOPLE REALLY REALLY ANNOY THE CRAP OUT OF ME.
Ahem. But that's not what I want to talk about right now.

I especially hate shopping for myself -- which is why I am currently wearing my House Of Blues t-shirt that I got in New Orleans in 2000.
It has a lot some holes.
And okay, so MAYBE you could read a book through it.
BUT ONLY IF THE INK on the pages was really dark.

And so maybe I'm wearing Frankenbra because the wires keep breaking on my favorite bras and I end up with ONE good bra from two half-broken ones - and I am too lazy WAY TOO BUSY to go shop for a new bra.

ANYWAY.
When you get to be almost 42 (which I will be in only THIRTEEN SHORT DAYS), and your breasteses happen to be au naturel (as mine are - no silicone, saline, or even silly putty), then some women (me) start to worry about ... saggage.

THAT'S RIGHT I SAID SAGGAGE.

Luckily I was given the opportunity by a great company, N-Fini Shape to try out some shapewear.

My usual body shape is sort of...circular. So I was hoping this would squeeze in where I need to be squeezed and smooth where I needed some smoothin'.

I expected this to be uncomfortable -- I've tried "shapewear" before from other makers and it's been uncomfortable and girdle-like and the edges roll up whenever you sit down and UGH.

I can honestly say that N-Fini's Double V-Neck Bralet is VERY comfortable.
I fell asleep in it one night and had no sore spots in the morning from bands or straps cutting into my fat flesh overnight.
It's very smooth, very stretchy, and just firm enough to be supportive.
My favoritest favorite thing about it is that I do not spend all day hauling the freaking shoulder straps up.
SHOULDER STRAPS ARE THE BANE OF MY BRAEXISTENCE.

I got the bralet in nude and while it doesn't have the LIFT I want (clearly I likes me underwires and this particular one doesn't have them), it does keep all the moving parts from being jiggly. It also creates a nice smooth line under my closest fitting tank tops.

THEY ACTUALLY MAKE THIS WITH UNDERWIRE - and I am so pleased with the bralet I have that I am willing to pay actual good money for one with an underwire.

I KNOW. I'm almost as shocked as you are.
Also? PLUS SIZES.

They've also got tank tops, undies, shorts, capris -- all manner of things to help you look smoother and shaplier.

And at my age, it ain't gettin' any easier.

P.S. Also buying me presents will help ease the pain of aging. Is all I'm saying.

---

---

**DISCLAIMER: To be CLEAR and TRANSPARENT and ALL THAT OTHER CRAP: I was given a sample product by N-Fini to review but I am receiving NO OTHER COMPENSATION whatsoever.
For really-o.