Ok Paulette, break out the tissues...

It is time for this weeks 







1.) Describe a memorable first date.
2.) Write about a child you find inspiring.
3.) What do you find most challenging about blogging?
4.) Name a pet peeve you have about how other parents raise their kids. Go on…stir the pot.
5.) We often spend time and energy talking about people in our lives we don’t see enough of. Describe a person in your life you are in contact with often. What does he/she mean to you?

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Ok, this week I am going with the fifth choice, I could easily write about how hard it is to blog.  However, I thought I would write about someone special. I am no longer very good at expressing emotions or feelings, but I thought I would write about my best friend Paulette.   Some know her best as "Ms P Drama"  http://mspdrama.blogspot.com/ .  

Anyone who watches us think that is amazing that we have conversations that very few can follow, our kids are the same age (right down to the middle child I miscarried), we are almost always chatting with each other through twitter, Facebook, and of course through text messages.  

Around 16 years ago, there was a preppy upbeat cheerleader type junior and a fat, miserable socially unfit freshman.   At first, neither one of us liked each other.  I though she was a snob and I didn't fit into her group of friends.  As usual, God had a plan because even though we were in different circles, different classes and had very little to nothing in common, we still ended up hanging out together.  

Slowly at first, and within a year, we were ok friends.  Not to terribly close, but we were talking and getting to know each other better.  I had no idea that her hag of a sister was making her life a living hell and her stepmother was using everything good and turning them into weapons to crush and dominate her.  She was very guarded and I was trying to understand why.  I think the main thing that got the friendship rolling was a fateful birthday party.

I was turning sixteen and my Mom had agreed to let me have a slumber party with a small group of girls.  Paulette was the only one not able to make it, and I was so disappointed till the next day.  My other group of friends and I were having fun all the way up till almost midnight.  I was the first to crash in the living room on Mom's bed.  We had a two bedroom house, and mom sacrificed the rooms to my brother and I and converted the living room to her room.  Anyways, that night a few horrid tricks were played on me and the end result was Mom calling seven very ticked off parents at 3am and everyone was kicked out of the house and I was left alone, crying, and mad as could be that everything went as it did.  

Little did either of us know it, but that was the saving grace in my friendship with Paulette.  I told her everything that happened and that I wasn't allowed to have anyone from the party over till Mom got over her mad and I was pretty sure I would be in college before that happened.  Mom had met Paulette and decided that she was nice, polite, and should be a good influence.  Oh boy, if she ever knew we would be in some SERIOUS trouble! 

When Paulette was old enough, she received a modest inheritance from her Mom and went to get a red Nissan Ultima with the sunroof.  It was one of the prettiest cars I had ever seen and was so jealous that she had a car before me.  However, in no time, she was banging at the front door and helping Mom pry my tail end out of bed so that I could ride to school with her in the car.  It was so nice, I only lived maybe five blocks from the high school.   For the next few years we were thick as thieves.  You never saw one of us without the other.  Talking for endless hours on the phone and as Paulette got ready for graduation, the inevitable happened...both of us had to get jobs and at this time, she found the man she loves and has been married to for fifteen years.  

After she graduated, she was working and getting ready for her wedding, and I was going to school and working part time.  She went shopping with me for school clothes my senior year, and we hung out as often as where able to.  The day of her wedding, I put in a request for an early off and the manager grudgingly gave it to me after I was moved from audience to maid of honor after her first choice went into labor.  I was at the church with her Hubby and he was so worried that she was going to leave him at the alter, and she was with his Mom getting ready.  On the way from the wedding, 103.7 KVIL played a dedication from the groom and dedicated "Your the Inspiration."  

After that, things slowed down in our friendship.  She was working and doing the married thing, and I was a senior in high school looking forward to when I would hit the same place in life that she was already at.  The first week of September, we decided to do a "girls night out".    We had no idea what movie we were seeing, what theater we were going to or what time any of the movies started.  We were just going to roll with it and see what happened.  After forty five minutes, we decided on ice cream and then we would pick up Paulettes' hubby.

For whatever reason, the ice cream didn't settle right and Hubby decided that he wanted to join us for the movie and this was before cell phones (yes I know...back in the days of dinosaurs and pagers).  So, the hunt was on.  We hit all of hubbys' friends till we came across a black Geo Metro.  Excited, thinking that we had found his for sure, Paulette mentioned "Patrick's in for the weekend".  While she ran in to see if her hubby was there, I layed the seat back and got comfy.  She came out disappointed since he wasn't there, but Pat knew where a friend had moved to and offered to help.  I made a comment about how cute his butt was, and since I very rarely made comments like that, the inner match maker caught and help onto that thought.

After the next stop, Paulette took me home and decided to find her Hubby alone.  Little did I know what was really brewing.  She snagged her hubby, his brother, Patrick and his brother and during their movie, she set me up with Patrick letting him know that if he was serious, he would have to make the first move and if I was hurt there would be hell to pay.  The following February, Patrick and I were married.  

For the next five years, we were both living our lives to the fullest and barely talked during that time.  When I became pregnant with our first child, I wanted everyone to know but was not sure how to find Paulette.  Pat knew what to do, he mailed a letter to her husbands' parents knowing that they would give it to them.

I was afraid that she had forgotten about me, or we would no longer get along since it had been so long.  However, color me surprised when she was pregnant with their first child as well.  Our due dates were only a month apart.   Paulette had her son a little early, and my daughter was a little late, but they are very close in age.  Since I was so close to delivery and it was icy out, Patrick suggested that we waited till Paulette and her son got home to visit.  That way she could have a little bonding time.   When I had my baby girl, she was there the day I delivered to visit, but I had a very difficult labor that ended with a crash c-section.  While I was in recovery, she visited the nursery and met some of Patricks' family and then came to visit the next day.  I remember her visiting the same time that my older brother visited, but he was making me laugh and in a morphine haze, I blinked away a lot of the visit, but I remembered she stayed as long as the nurse would allow.

 Even though I am not much of a babysitter, I helped her as best as I could by watching her son while they worked, but over time became increasingly frustrated with the babysitting.  Since we are so close, I was able to explain what was going on and she was so understanding!  Once again, life picked up and we drifted a little bit.

I lost a pregnancy and then found out that I was pregnant again three years later.    Paulette and I had been talking on and off, but because of how far apart we lived and gas prices we very rarely got to see each other.
Right after I told Paulette that I lost my pregnancy 2 days before Christmas, I went spiraling into depression and was trying very hard to get keep everyone away from close.  With my sister in law pregnant (and I was throwing the baby shower) and Paulette also pregnant, I lashed out in sadness and anger.  I was so bitter that the baby I named Charles Xavier would never be mine to love and hold.  Paulette recognized what I was doing and refused to leave me alone.  Taking it all in stride, including my temper tantrums and jealously, she became my anchor.  In my deepest darkest hours even when my own husband was too busy to help, she did.    Very patiently, she pulled me out of that black hole of despair and things slowly became better.

When she had her second baby, we started seeing each other much more often.  She had been put on bed rest while pregnant, and I wanted to help her whenever I could.  We started having our Moms night out and talking on the phone and before we knew it, once again we were both expecting babies.  I found out first and this time was due a few months before she was.  I was so scared for both of us.  I had already lost two pregnancies and Paulette kept going into preterm labor.   I was more worried that Paulette would lose her baby than I was about my pregnancy.  I was now far along enough to know that this one would most likely make it, but I didn't want Paulette to ever have to deal with the loss of a pregnancy.

By now, we were both stay at homes and were hanging out as often as we could and sometimes as often as once a week and we rotated houses.  When Paulette went to deliver her youngest daughter, I finally got to see her in to hospital.  She never asked if I wanted to see her after she delivered her first little girl knowing that I would be unable to handle it, and I was NOT going to miss visiting her in the hospital this time.  He had a fairly easy delivery and we chatted until Pat called me on the cell to let me know it was time to go.  Reluctantly, I left and immediately made plans to visit at the beginning of the following week.

She still laughs about my reaction to her opening the door with her perfect pre-baby figure.  I had stopped at the store on the way over and picked up a lasagna, and when she opened her door, my jaw dropped I said "I hate you" and handed her the lasagna.  She has always been able to take my super dry dark sense of humor and run with it.  I was very jealous that she had stayed so tiny and during my second c-section that they had to do an upward swing and I might never loose the tummy pooch because of it.

We were back to visiting every week alternating homes till I completely threw my back out of place and was unable to walk.  Once again, darkness took over and I was so mad at everything.  I was frustrated that I couldn't take care of my children, before thirty they were talking major reconstructive surgery on my back and  there was a high chance of paralysis.  With Pat working around the clock to cover bills, the housework fell behind and I was feeling like the biggest failure.  A housewife that could not take care if the children, house, or husband.  I had a lot of people helping me and I appreciated all the help, but I was so angry and the doctors said it would be six months to a year before I could do much more than move to the couch.

Paulette came and visited often and helped with the kids, cooking, and as much as the dump I lived in allowed, she cleaned.  I was very ashamed of how I was acting, but over the years I have started to lose my ability to articulate how I feel to others.  I can express anger, frustration, and jealousy very easily, but love, appreciation and happiness are very hard to express these days.  Every time she came over, she was a ray of sunshine.  I was always looking forward to seeing her and she was always there for me.  Even when the pain meds made me loopy and crazier that normal.

When my daughter was six, she was sexually assaulted by my nephew.  I wanted a gun and I wanted him in jail.  He was prosecuted, sentenced and sent away to the STOP program.  When I first heard the sentence and it seemed so light, I called my Paulette crying.   It hurt to breathe and I didn't understand why I was denied my chance in court to tell them how my family had suffered because of what had happened.  Paulette dropped everything, came over and took me to half priced books.  She patiently listened to everything I had to say and even understood why even though I had always said there in never a need for violence that I NEEDED a gun.  I WANTED to get revenge.  She pointed out that we wouldn't be able to fulfill our dream of being crabby old ladies on the porch with our cats and dogs.

Over the next two years, she helped me deal with the frustrations of my past while taking my daughter to her councelling.  My daughter has gotten past that and is living like a normal nine year old.   When we can, we help each other any chance we can, and there is nothing that I wouldn't do for Paulette.  She is like family to me, and ANYONE who hurts her, I plot against till she tells me, while laughing, that going to jail will not help our visiting.

Even as I type this, I have her girls while she takes her oldest to the dentist.  We are chatting about the NKOTBSB concert she got us tickets to.  We went on Sunday and had the very BEST of times!  She got both of us a t-shirt and we had a BLAST!  There are times when I wish I could tell her how much she means to me.  She has always been there no matter what is going on.  She has always been my anchor and ray of light.  My kids love her to pieces and she has become family to us.  I love her unconditionally (and for those with gutter minds - not in that way).  My greatest wish is that her life is aways as bright as she helps mine to be.    Everyone should be blessed with a best friend as great as mine.

Who's Kids Are They Anyway?

Ok, after blog spot ate one of the posts I worked the hardest on, I took a break from blogging and regained my focus. This weeks prompts are all very good, but I chose to write about the first one because, ironically enough everyone I know at the local Walmart are all experts on raising children. Ok, before I start rambling and get everyone lost, here are this weeks promts from http://www.mamakatslosinit.com/mama-kat/ I highly recommend checking it out! Anyways, once again I am rambling. I promise that here in a sec, I will get to the point. Anyhow, this weeks prompts are as follows....


1.) List 10 things you wish you could say to strangers who share unsolicited advice about your parenting skills.
2.) Write a poem inspired by a picture you took last week. Share both!
3.) Create a bucket list of 50 things you want to do this summer (with or without the kids!)
4.) A country you would like to visit.
5.) What is something you could stand to learn from your significant other?
Bonus Vlog Option!

6.) Getting kids dressed? Cooking dinner? Bed time? Create a video that describes the most difficult part of the day for you.


Ok, onto the actual writing (not rambling) part of things.

10 Things that you wish you could say to strangers

Since I started bass ackwards, I am going to keep going that way.

10.)
On the comment "Are you really going to feed your kids those tv dinners? Aren't you going to cook a homemade meal?"

My response "Is that your offer to come and cook dinner for my family?"

9.)
On the comment "Your child is so well behaved. Is she always this good?"

Well, that at least started the right way, but my response to that is "No, she is acting very good because I took away her TV, DVD player, and every privilege till she is twelve years old three isles ago."

8.)
On the comment "Are you worried your son might turn gay because of his pink blanket."

Now, this would seem like a very stupid question to ask, but I have been asked it SEVERAL times. The blankie in question is his sisters pink Belle blanket that I made for my daughter that he "borrowed" a few years ago. My response "No, I am not worried, but if he does turn out gay all I ask is that he gets married Hawaii so that we can have a wedding there." Seriously does ANY 5 year old turn gay from playing with a pink blanket.

7.)
One the comment "Your kids look like they have a hard time getting along. How do you separate them?"

Seriously, They are at the age that breathing at each other is a capitol offense. I let them try to work it out themselves, and if they go beyond the usual brother/sister stuff, I have a few empty walls for timeouts. So, my comment "I am so sorry, when did they change the referee design on your shirt?"

6.)
This one is generally from the older generations "If you beat your kids butt more often, then they would mind you better"

While I am a FIRM believer that to spare the rod spoils the child, I also respect that beatings are not good for children. I believe that discipline should be considered to fit the offense. My response to this "I remember my beatings and they didn't do a bit of good. I was still a brat to my Mom"

5.)
Comment for others (mostly the school) "Have you concidered that your child might be ADHD or have other ADD related issues since the reading grades are not that good?"

Response from me "I am not drugging my kid to make your job easier. You are paid to teach my kid and I think the school should provide more recess time. I can't focus for 8 hours I don't expect my 5 year old to either?"

4.)
Comment "Your kids drive me crazy!"

This one is sometimes really hard to reign my temper in on. I know that most time it is harder to deal with other peoples children than your own, however it is sometimes hard to find a "diplomatic" solution so my response "Can't wait till you have your own so I can tell you the same thing" or "So do yours" or "That is not a long drive even on the best of days"

3.)
Comment "Your kids clothes are mismatched. Couldn't you have helped her get dressed properly"

My response to that one. "I did help her get dressed. She is fully covered isn't she."

2.)
This one is normally from family or friends with slightly older childre. Comment "Why won't you let your kids watch PG-13 movies? There is nothing wrong with them!"

I cannot say to much on this seeing as when I was 5 years old my Dad took me to see the movie "Gremlins" in the theater. However, with how desensitized our society is becoming, I choose to shield them as long as I can. Most will respect this one though. My response "If you want to stay up with them every night for the next few weeks while they have night terrors... go for it. Otherwise, my kids my choice"

The #1 comment and the one that drives me BANANAS....

1.)
Comment "You are doing it all wrong! You need to prove to them who is boss and make all the decisions in the house."

I try to give the kids options and choices and encourage them to make the right choices. I still make all the final decisions, but why are they not allowed to voice an opinion or desire?
so, my final response and my favorite one...."Glad you feel that way, but I am the one raising them. MY KIDS! MY CHOICE!"

I love meeting new people and showing the kids the better side of everything. It is ultimately annoying when someone I don't even know is criticizing a situation that they are not even a part of. When it comes to my family, there are no questions..good or bad they are MY KIDS. They are my life and unconditionally loved.

Writers Workshop ~ 1980 Honda Civic aka The Yellow Deathtrap

This Weeks prompt are as follows:


1.) If you had to go back to high school, how would you do it differently?
2.) Describe a trait that attracted you to your significant other, but that now drives you a little crazy.
3.) Your first car.
4.) Describe how you met your best friend.
5.) Write a love letter to someone (some thing?) you love.


I figured that I would start with the one about my first car (It still gives a few of my friends nightmares even after 10+ years) then write about how I met my best friend followed by a love letter to Coca Cola. (Yes, you read that right).  

When I was 16, Mom said that if I found my way back and forth to the drivers ed course (which of course was 14 miles round trip) I could get my licence and get a car.  OMG my teenage heart was dead set on getting that privilege!  So, I set out to walk to the school and in Texas heat in June that is no small feat.  After the 4 weeks in class and 3 weeks behind the wheel of a monster truck, I was given my DL41A form and off to the DMV (Department of Motor Vehicles) we went.


My uncle was big in collecting and fixing cars, so I received my first car as a gift and at first I was immensely dissapointed.  It was a hollowed out, rusted shell with the engine in pieces in the back section of the car.    My stepfather at the time, Gale, told me to be patient and I would be happy with the results.  So, I figured whatever, as long as it was ready by the first day of school  cause I paid $65 for a premium parking spot.  What is sad is that by the time school started we had moved right down the road from the school.  


Anyhow, a week before school started the car reappeared, painted bright smiley face yellow and running!  YEAH!!!  I was all sorts of happy, even when I found that the drivers side seat was not fully bolted in.  It was a manual (stick) shift 5 speed.  I topped it out at 135mph (Lord I hope Mom never reads this post) and the bright color made it easy to find.  The catch was, I was forbidden to get a ticket (which I got in the first 3 months) and I had to get a job to cover the insurance.  


With no backseat, I could fit 16 people in the back and constantly did so.  I took a friends younger siblings to school and took my little brother to school a few times.  When I put the car in 1st or reverse, the drivers seat flew backwards and a few times, I ended up backing into parked cars.  I only hit a few cars (about 5 of them including my stepfathers truck).

Well, it wasn't until my brakes failed and I stripped my emergency brake getting home from across town, that it was decided that my car was not very safe and was sold.  It really was a beautiful car. 

Writers Workshop ~ Mother Nature is a HAG!

I have watched my BFF Paulette do the writers workshop for a little while, and while I will most likely never do a vlog (I am anti camera) I thought I would try a writing prompt and see where it takes me.

Todays prompts are:
1.) Describe a time you spoke up for someone who couldn’t speak up for themselves.
2.) The Royal Wedding…ten gift ideas.
3.) What is going on in the bedroom? Describe a memorable sleeper.
4.) Photo Story: Take a walk through your neighborhood this week and share some pictures of what Spring looks like where you live.
5.) Something embarrassing that happened at school.

While I thought that doing the Royal Wedding gift ideas would be fun, I suddenly remembered a horridly embarrassing thing that happened at school in the 5th grade. This was back in the late 80s, and I think that there may be a few who have had similar experiences.

I was cursed with getting my period when I was just 9 years old. I was just starting 4th grade when it started. This was not much of an issue, Mom had taught me all about how the body changed and was forever telling me that knowledge was important and that if I knew it was coming I wouldn't wig out when it happened. So, I was perfectly ok with what was going on till I entered 5th grade.

In Texas, there was no sex ed or anything like it till 9th grade, so when we moved to Virginia (kids never had voting rights back then)sex ed started in the 5th grade. So, when I was transplanted there, it was a HUGE adjustment.

Anyhow, we were starting to learn about how the female body changes and then came the question... "Has anyone in the class started their menstrual cycle yet?" Stupidly I raised my hand and oh gee I was the ONLY one. The teacher asked if I wanted to answer any of the classmates questions and once agian, I stupidly said yes.

So after answering a million questions, class was over and it was time to go. Well, this was when white pants were the major rage and I had several pairs, and that day I was wearing my fav pair. As we were walking out of the classroom, the teacher snagged me and told me to see the nurse but not told why.

As I was walking across the school, I was curious about the snickering and pointing, but no one ever told me what was going on. I was very much picked on because I had a very deep accent and was very well endowed for my age (everything is bigger in Texas dontcha know) and it was believed that everyone in Texas has an oil field and that we were all filthy rich. Wish that were true, but...

Anyhow enough rambling. I got to the nurses office, and apparently the teacher had paged the nurse and told her why I was on my way. Apparently, during the class that hag Mother Nature rolled on in and I was wearing WHITE pants. So, I was a gross red mess and suddenly it all clicked into place about why I was being laughed at.

The nurse cut me a pass to walk home, and nicely sent someone to my locker to grab that extra sweater, and let me walk the 1 1/2 miles home. That wasn't near as bad as what happened the next few weeks. The cracks about what had happened was ALL over school and there was no end to it till Summer time. I was never so happy to see the end of the school year.

Oh God NO!

Ok, go ahead and laugh...get it out of your system. Yes, I will wait. *time creeps slowly by* Ok, no that you are done laughing at the title of this blog, I have a crisis I wish to talk about. Yesterday, my daughter Faith came in and once again she is in a mood and crying. Taking a deep breathe, I brace for what I know is about to happen and my mom (Nanna to Faith) gives me a weird "WTH" look. With the TAKS test that day, and the school forbidding me to have lunch with her like I promised I would, I knew she would be upset.

Anyhow, I am having a field day with her mood swings lately and each day pretty much starts the same.

6:30am - 7:00am We wake up the kids, try to feed them breakfast and stuff them into their school uniforms, then convince them that it is in their best interest to go to sleep.

7:10am - Push them into the car telling them that if we miss the bus, Daddy will be late to work and it is time to move it!

7:15am - 2:15pm Run errands, go to the gym for torture, fix what needs fixing in the household and if absolutely necessary, clean the house

2:15 - Pick up Nic at the bus stop and hear why he got and "N" or "U" that day. It is stupid to expect a 4 year old to sit still for 6 hours..but it is our school district

3:20 pm - so it begins....

*sigh* here we go.... Faith comes FLYING through the door crying and telling everyone she has to go pee get out of the way. Fine, whatever, she never uses the restroom at the school before getting on the bus so she normally comes in flying. She throws her book bag on the chair as she is running across the apartment to the potty all while screaming that the bus driver wants to talk to us.

Oh God, is she fighting AGAIN? So, I what till she is done, and ask her to come talk to me. She comes out crying and screaming that she wasn't fighting. Why won't anyone believe her??? Well, I asked her for some details and she said her side and head hurt and the kids were being to loud and when she asked them to quiet down, they ignored her. AS IF?!?!

Deep breathe and look at the calender. OH NO, it is the last week of the month and I am sooo in for it! Nanna has yet to see it, so she is a little confused at my response.

I try to ask her if she was fighting on the bus again. This resulted in immediate tears followed by her shreiking "NO, I was not fighting... they weren't listening and all I wanted was to be left alone!"

So, I tried to ask her if she was using the same tone of voice with them that she was using with me, because she was screaming and not politely asking as she was taught. This statement was met with "YOU NEVER BELIEVE ME!!!" follewed by her stomping into her room and slamming the door.

Nanna is now puzzled and I am wanting to ram my head into a wall. Since she was 8 1/2 she has had mood swings during the end of the month, and after she turned almost 2 months ago, they have been getting stronger. I got her the book "The Keeping and Caring of You for girls" so that she will better understand the changes going on with her and her body since she is getting to the age of puberty.

I glance at the clock, 3:25. Now, I have a weeping, fully disgruntled 9 year old girl and I am trying very hard to keep my cool and figure out what is going on. Nic tries to help her and she viciously turns on him. Since he is only 4, I told her he was just trying to help, and she needed to keep ahold of her temper. This is of course met with a fresh load of tears and screeching of how the world is out to get her.

So, after 45 minutes of the similar stuff, Nanna and I go out to pick up her brothers birthday present and take a breather. In the car, while I was taking a calming breathe, Nanna announces that she knows what is wrong with Faith. I had already suspected, but still she is more experienced after dealing with me.

"Well, she had a headache and her sides hurt." Yeah I remember that..."She also looks puffy and swollen" oh yeah... water retention. "Then there was the crying at the drop of a hat and the screaming" Bet the neighbors noticed that one. "She is PMSing." OH GOD NO! It is WAY to early to deal with this. I only recently got used to buying her bras and having to shave her legs (she was cursed with Hubby's hair curse)

So, this morning, Hubby goes to talk to the bus driver and the bus driver says she has become supersensitive about everything and she seems to young for puberty, but she seems to be going that way could we calm her down. WTH does he think we are trying to do????

OH GOD it is 9:30 in the morning and even typing about this is stressing. She is too young and I know that when Mother Nature fully kicks in I am in for it. Wonder if she will be to young to check for PMDD (PMS on Steroids)......Dear God, here my pleas... Can PMS and Mother Nature please be put on hold till she is 18? PLEASE?!?!?!?!?

Water Aerobics ~ Kickin' it Senior Style! Part 2

Ok, Since trying out the water aerobics, my Mom and I have officially joined the 9 am class.  That means that I leave the house earlier, call Mom along the way and hopefully find her awake and in a semi lovable mood.

So, we have three instructors a week, and everyone of them have a unique style to tone and torture your body with.  One has a noodle routine that is actually fun (especially since the kids showed me how to use one as a wtaer gun) and the others are fairly intense.

Each time the first ten to twenty minutes are nothing.  Walk in a circle, create a great speed and walking with the flow of the water then flip around and walk against the nice strong tide you've just created.  Cross country skiing in the water, stretching your calves, shoulder blades, necks, thumbs, toes and everything else till you want to sit down cross your legs and scream "NO"  Like a petulant child throwing a temper tantrum.

Once we hit the thirty minute mark, I thought it would go faster, but no... as usual with the aerobics thing, I was so off mark.  The clock seems to run backwards!  It is kinda like when we are walking first one way then another all without warning!  So, now everything is outta whack and even the parts that were ok are now loudy protesting and the other members of the class (All seniors) are blasting through the class making cracks about how their days are going, their plans for the week, and how the instructor is getting soft on the class (AS IF o.o')

So, after what feels like 2 hours, we are now at the forty five minute mark, and now it is time to work our arms and upper body.  The ONLY thing not hurting now is the head, so now it is time to stretch the fingers, neck and shoulders.  One and Two and Three and Four and on and on and on and on and on......

Finally the hour ends and the other members agily scramble out of the arthritis pool and into the jacuzzi.  Meanwhile, Mom and I float in the peaceful bliss of the empty pool trying to brace ourselves for when we get out of the warm pool and gravity hits.  Normally, getting out of a pool isn't that big a deal, but after the hour of full on physical torture, gravity feels a lot heavier than it should.

Even after a week of this and trying to adjust to the routine and all, it is still very exhausting to keep up with the other members.  God I hope when I get to their ages I can still be that active....

All Natural Healing My Foot!!!!

Thinking it would be nice to try a relaxing herbal mask, I pulled out the one I purchased from Walmart a few days ago. It said it was made from almost all natural elements, and that I would feel refreshed and rejuvinated. What was there to loose other than stress right?

Oh boy was I WRONG! I pulled out the package and carefully read all the instructions thinking this would be fun and girly. Well, I smelled the mask first and was pleased it smelled like spierament (wow I cannot spell that) gum and so I thought once again this was a good choice.

Put the nose piece on and it wasn't to bad. Next can the mask. I carefully laid the mask on as instructed and thought I would relax a few minutes while it worked it's detoxing magic...and then it happened.

Aside from Hubby laughing his tail end off, I went to read the all natural ingredients when my face started burning. Thinking that maybe this would end soon and I would look and feel refreshed in just a few minutes, but once again my theory was flawed....My eyes are burning, it feels like my face is on fire and melting like the plastic dolls at the beginning of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory....

So I have come to the conclusion that the only part of my all natural tea facial mask is the gum smell and the rest is acid.... why oh why is it torture to be just a little girly.....