Don't sweat it...

The title of a book.

"Don't sweat the small stuff"

How true could that be? Yesterday, I was reminded of that. A great many times.

Yesterday was the little one's first "performance" in her ballet class. Their "Turkey Dance."

I had been preparing movie cameras, regular cameras, and talking about it to everyone....for days.

So the big time comes. We all gather in the room....2 year olds about to show us their stuff.

My kid froze. She started whining...then crying....then really crying.

I got up...and took her out of the room. At that moment. I was upset. I wanted to watch her dance like you couldn't imagine.

But, she didn't. She got stage fright. Disappointment made me forget what it feels like to be frightened to be in front of people. It is a horrible feeling.

So, I got over it. And so did she. Her dance teacher said it happens all the time...and next time it will be another one who is frightened.

Last night....my friend arrived in from out of town. We had a girls night in.

My 2 dear friends and I were sitting on the floor in the bedroom talking about jewelry, movies, and blogs. We each shared a few of our favorites.....

I was introduced to 2 blogs about 2 different women...and their incredible lives.

They made me realize how "not sweating the small stuff" is so very important.

One of the bloggers was a burn victim dealing with a multitude of rehabilitation issues, all while trying to raise a family.

Another was about a Mother of an infant with Cerebral Palsy. The pictures....of an infant with glasses, special chairs, equipment, feeding tubes, and a shortened life span....it all made me step back and give thanks for the 100 million blessings I have in my life.

So one week before 22 of my awesome family members arrive at our home to celebrate Thanksgiving....I am thankful.

Thankful for my family, my husband, my child, my parents, my friends, my health, my freedom, my home, my country, and a million other things I could list.

So, take a moment to remember it is the little things in life that count....those are the things that make life what it is.

Be thankful.

This is B.S.

"MS is BS"

Those were the letters on the fronts of our shirts.

One of my dear friends has been diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis.

As you can tell from the picture....she has an enormous support group. This passed weekend...there was a 5 mile walk for MS. A fund raising opportunity and a time to show support.

Lindsay is one of the strongest people I know. Now that she has a firm diagnosis....she will be fighting this head on....full speed ahead.

So, next year, I am sure our group will be bigger...and we will do some awesome fundraising...to help find a cure for this disease.

Lots of things are BS...and MS is surely one of them.

It was so inspiring to see so many people all gathered together...all for one common cause. Every person there had some connection to the disease. Whether it be a Mother, a Father, a friend, or cousin.....they were all there to support and remember their loved ones.

Lindsay is an inspiration to me. She is always thinking of others....always. When she was going through lots of pain and searching for a diagnosis, she took the time to bring a gift to my house. For our new dog. A bag with a dog toy and treats. Lindsay is such an animal lover...and she just takes time to do the little things....even when she has so much on her plate.

I have known her for over 25 years...and she will win this battle.

MS IS BS.

Just don't do it.

You may disagree with me...totally....but, I will share my opinion anyway.

I hate fake purses...wallets....sunglasses....the whole deal.

If you can't buy the real thing, just don't buy it. Period.

Yesterday...during my Target store therapy...I noticed a lady who had this bag draped over her shoulder...kind of like a messenger bag. This LONG strap..made of seat belt looking material....and this tiny plastic faux leather sack at the end.....with giant metal zippers...and the paint had rubbed off around the circle part of the zipper. So, it looked cheap. And that is fine...who cares if you carry a cheap purse...I have some in my closet.

Just don't advertise it as being Chanel. All along the strap was the word "CHANEL" in huge white letters....clearly it was not.

I guess it is the whole "pretending to be something you are not" aspect that irritates me.

I for one can not afford a huge Louis Vuitton handbag....or a Chanel bag.....

And if you can't either....then you just shouldn't buy one. If it is $50 bucks...and has "Prada" on it....it is not real.

When I started this blog...I told myself not to be opinionated in my posts. Well...I can only go so long without being opinionated. If you know me well at all....you probably know I am one of the most "opinionated" people you know. And, that is ok.

So, my request to all women (and men) if you have $40 bucks to spend on a purse...please buy a $40 purse. There are 500 cute ones at Target right now. Just don't spend $40 bucks on a purse and expect other people to believe you are carrying a Chanel handbag.

Please. Thank you.

I give up

Some days...this is what I feel like I look like. A frumpy and nerdy Mom.

So it explains my recent shopping escapades in search of a more exciting collection of clothing choices.

I bought myself a few things....yes, that pair of stirrup pants was in the mix....and I brought it all home to try it on. Boots, pants, shirt....the whole shebang.

I slipped into my closet and put it all on. When I stepped out.....and glanced at myself in the mirror....I almost shed a few tears. Not from crying...but from laughing at myself. I looked like a total 100% nerdo.

One thing I was not blessed with is long legs. And, I am not a tall lady.....

Let's just say that riding boots, leggings, and a long shirt make a barely 5 foot 5 girl look 5 inches shorter and 10 pounds heavier.

So, you can all sigh with relief in knowing that the pants were returned to the store.

And for me, I have returned to my 4 year old Lucky jeans and black Merona t-shirts.

Learned my lesson....just stay boring....

But, if you ever see me looking like any of those ladies in the picture....THEN you can call the fashion police.

To have me arrested....on the spot.

Please don't call the police

Apparently some of my fellow blog readers seem to be concerned about my recent purchase of a pair of stirrup pants. I went with the yellow and black combo...not the red and black....I just have never looked good in red.

See, people are wearing them. I would never in a million years begin to try to wear them like this. First of all...I am not 5'11 and 103 pounds, and I am not 23.

My purchase was simply to wear with boots. Riding boots. If you know me very well....you know I am the last person on Earth to take a fashion risk. I don't risk anything really.

But, when your butt sticks out like mine does...a long shirt with leggings seems to make it look smaller. The stirrups are more of a "useful" part of the pants. They keep leggings from riding up my ghetto booty.

So, don't call anyone to come arrest me. I promise, when we have lunch together next time...I won't sport my stirrup pants with flats or anything. They will always be hidden...deep inside boots.

Now where did I leave my off the shoulder sweatshirt decorated with rhinestones and puff paint? I know it is around here somewhere.......

Oh there it is! Right next to my Swatch Watch and terrycloth sweatbands.......

Flashdance.....

I love the 80's.

How could you not love the 80's? I mean, look at her outfit....can you just imagine yourself slipping into that sweater....then opening your metal can that has two giant sponge shoulder pads in it. Shoving them under your angora sweater and hitting the town.....leather pants and all.

As a kid, there is always one point in your life that you become interested in wearing what is in style...hip....acceptable clothing choices....so you appear to be with it....so your "friends"

don't think you are some weirdo teenager.

I just happened to enter that stage of my life in the 80's. My memories are vivid. Neon socks, giant bangs, hair paint, legwarmers, stirrup pants....I could go on.

My Mom's closet was full of bold pattern sweaters that were about 8 sizes too big for her...she wore big chunky earrings with faces on them....and she looked hot. I can remember going into her closet and trying to pretend I could wear the clothes. She made broaches for me out of all kinds of things...and I had that all important Guess blue jean jacket.

So today, when I walked into the mall....I was confused, excited, worried, and thrilled about why every single store was so 80's inspired. The shoes, the makeup, accessories, you name it. Straight out of The Breakfast Club.

I felt like I had stepped back in time. I could feel my Mom behind me helping me pick our clothes for school.

Nostalgia got to me. I bought a pair of stirrup pants. Just couldn't help myself.

But, think I will stop there. Pretty sure neon socks won't go so well with my Mom shoes.

You have to admit. The 80's were hot.... you know you want to slide into some stirrup pants and swipe some peacock blue shadow over your top lid.....

don't be a bully....

Why are there bullies? And why do parents just allow it to happen? If there is one trait I can not tolerate in children of any age...it is bullying.

Today is Wednesday...and that is a fun filled day for my kid.

It is ballet, playgroup, and lunch all piled into one.

Chick fil a is always the restaurant of choice among 2 and 3 year olds. Naturally...we end up going there most every Wednesday.

On a side note....I SO wish I owned a Chick fil a. No joke...there are 2 here in our town and the cars literally wrap around the building. It is crazy.....must be the Chick fil a sauce combined with the unnaturally happy workers behind the counter. Wonder what is in the employee lemonade.....

Back to my point. So there is an indoor kiddie playground....it is a perfect way to bribe youngsters to eat all their lunch. "If you want to play, you have to eat your chicken!" I bet I said that 8 times in 15 minutes.

SO there is this kid in an orange shirt. He has a band aid on his eye....with a stitch or two underneath it. He just has that look. You know the one I am talking about.

As you know...I am an avid people watcher...so, I watched him, my kid, my friends kid, and the Mom of the orange tshirt boy. The kid didn't mess with mine...but he sure did mess with other kids. And I watched the Mom just sit there and watch him.

I just wanted to walk over to her table and tell her how the cow ate the cabbage....but, then I would have to count my second parental confrontation at Chick fil a.

Boy, I sure am rowdy. Don't you mess with my kid...or any other kid I know....you will be sorry buster. ;)

So there. Don't be a bully.

NO one likes it.

Nana-nana- boo boo!