BarreAmped- An Honest Review

That's me in the front, doing fold-over.

I've decided to come out of my blogging hiatus in order to fairly review something new that I happen to love.

About 3 months ago, while in my "trying random workouts because I'm in a rut" phase, I ran across a Groupon for BarreAmped.  I was looking for something better than pole dance fitness (which was fun, and tough, but didn't feel like a long-term sustainable workout to me), so I didn't hesitate to click "Get Groupon."  Since BarreAmped is relatively new on the fitness scene, it was rather difficult to find reviews- especially from women who had enough experience with group fitness to allow for comparison.

That being said, here goes my rather lengthy, no-holds-barred (ha ha, get it?  Fine.  I'm a nerd.  Whatever.) review.

What is BarreAmped?

According to their official website, which can be found here,
"BarreAmped is the ultra results oriented fitness regime based on modern and classical dance, Pilates,   yoga and deep stretching created by fitness DVD star Suzanne Bowen."

My take?  Let's break that statement down:

"Ultra results oriented?"  
Oh yeah.  After completing a 6 week BarreAmped bootcamp recently, I swear you could use my obliques as a razor blade.  Well, ok, it helps if I stand a certain way and suck in, but still.  I can tell a big difference in my core strength and tone, and others have noticed it as well.  I can't help it- I appreciate the results in the spirit of self-betterment, but as females, we all know that there's nothing like appealing to our vanity to keep up the motivation.

"Based on modern and classical dance, Pilates, yoga, and deep stretching..."
Hmmm- yes, but loosely.  Having a relatively strong background in classical ballet, and some background in modern dance, I can say that although you use the ballet barre in this class, BarreAmped isn't a "dance-y" workout.  If you are looking for Zumba, go elsewhere (not that I don't like Zumba- I do- but this is very different).  As far as yoga, I've found that some instructors incorporate more yoga into their classes than others.  All instructors will take you through deep stretches during and after the workout, which is good, because your muscles will be on fire!

Here's my take on defining BarreAmped:  It is an incredibly results-based toning workout, focusing on repeating small, isometric movements with perfect form.  This workout has a very mental component, which is great for me now that I have a super-stressful job.  I feel like I get an hour of therapy and an hour of arse-kicking all at once- what could be better for today's busy lifestyle?  :)

Do I need dance/ workout experience to try BarreAmped?

No to dance experience, probably yes to workout experience.  Here's why.

Dance experience:
Dancers and former dancers will have a "leg up" (ahaha- I kill me!) on others in that they will be used to correcting and perfecting form,  although I imagine that those experienced with yoga or pilates with no dance experience would be fine as well.  Otherwise, there is no dancing in this class.  Whether or not you have prior dance/ yoga/ pilates experience, expect to have your form corrected more than once, particularly in the beginning.  It doesn't mean that you are "bad" at BarreAmped- it just means that in order to get the best results (after all, that's why you're there), you need to be working in perfect contractions/holds.  One note for dancers:  You do not use turn-out in this class.  That's a tough cycle to break when turn-out is so deeply ingrained in your muscle memory, so expect gentle corrections in some postures until you get the hang of it (fold-over, which is shown in the pic above, was the hardest for me to master.   I still have to really concentrate on my body to get it right).

Workout experience:
This workout is tough- even for experienced gym buffs- and it is going to require some pretty serious core and thigh strength.  I personally think that in order to get the mind/ body connection right, you are going to need to have at least some reserve of strength.  If you are brand new to working out, this probably isn't the place to start (although they will still accept you into class).  I would suggest starting with DVDs, yoga, or mat-based pilates classes.  One note for all BarreAmped newbies- most classes are not cardio-based.  Expect to sweat some while toning, but intense cardiovascular stamina is not required.

Does BarreAmped work?  Is it hard?
Heck yeah it does, heck yes it is!  But in a good way.  One thing I really like about it is that instead of the class getting easier the more you go, it gets harder.  That's because once you have mastered form and are really telling your muscles where and how to move, it doesn't let up on them.

What should I wear?
I had a hard time finding the answer to this initially, so I'll make it easy- wear a sports bra and fitted shirt (you'll be bending over a lot, especially in plank), fitted pants or leggings (no shorts) and removable shoes.  Some people work out in those toe-sock things, but most go barefooted.  As far as leggings/ pants, wearing something fitted allows the instructor to easily see and correct your form.  Me?  I generally wear a sports bra, tank top, 3/4 length leggings, and flip-flops.

Bottom line?
BarreAmped is all about the bottom line!  Just look at the butt of any instructor.  If that doesn't motivate you, I don't know what will.

Really, though- I love this workout, and I haven't done much else (with the exception of some cardio) since I stumbled upon it.  BarreAmped isn't a gimmick- you'll work hard, and you'll see results quickly.  Their motto is "Shake to Change," and they mean it.  Your muscles will shake like mad.  They will also change- and  faster than you would probably think.

I've also noticed that many BarreAmped instructors and junkies are into whole-body health and not just fitness or how their butts look in skinny jeans.  My guess is that's because of the emphasis on mind-body connection.  I find myself wanting to take better care of my body, which is great (if I could only give up Coke Zero, my beloved 'teacher juice'...)

So, if you are still thinking of trying BarreAmped, I say DO IT!  Feel free to leave comments on your experience below.

Your Kid Annoys the Crap Out of Me. Heck, My Kid Annoys the Crap Out of Me.

Toddler Death Match- Vacuum Attachment Edition

Toddlers are weird little people. 

One minute, they are amazing you with some new piece of profound knowledge- a keen observation of the great big world around them.  However, before you can finish gushing with the pride that you feel at that moment, the toddler-person begins doing something incredibly inappropriate and/ or horrifically mortifying.  The older they get, the more exasperated you become, because it becomes increasingly clear that they know better and they are doing (insert weird/ bad thing here) on purpose.  I wouldn't go as far as to say that parenting a toddler is a love/ hate relationship, but there are definitely times that the overwhelming love takes a back seat to the feeling of, "If someone doesn't get over here to take this kid and give me a chardonnay break in the next 5 minutes I'm going to be rocking back in forth in a corner, probably permanently."  Or maybe it's just me.

Because my boyfriend is apparently missing the FBTA (Frazzled By Toddler Antics) gene.  Maybe it's only passed down to mommies on the X chromosome- I dunno. Maybe it's because he shares 50/50 custody with his ex, and approximately half his time is spent being an actual autonomous human being, rather than a toddler-wrangler.  Or maybe he's superhuman. 

All I know is that with two little toddler-people running amuck, it would be nice to have someone on my side to share in both the joys and the exasperation.  But noooooo.  When my admittedly mostly-brilliant kid insists that he reallypromiseshedoesn'thavetogopotty as Operation Code Brown commences in his pants, The Boyfriend gives me stern lectures and points me to yahoo! advice on potty training *rolling eyes*  Meanwhile, his kid is off humping things indiscriminately (although admittedly less now that he's about to turn 4).  Of course I am not allowed to point that out though, because anything his kid does wrong is simply "age appropriate," and "I'll see one day."

So here's my point- wait, I really didn't have one.  I guess my point is that sometimes, kids suck.  They all do.  Yours, mine.  Every. Single.  One.  Of.  Them.  Sometimes, we all have those moments when we feel like failures as parents.  Fortunately, those other moments when the kids are being sweet, adorable, brilliant, hilarious and loving make it all worthwhile.  Otherwise, no sane person would ever reproduce.

It's not just me, right?

Holy Smokes! Church-hopping review #2

Church Name: Kairos (hosted at Brentwood Baptist Church)

Brand of Jesus: Their website says they are a "non-denominational worship experience" that meets at a Baptist church, and is led by a Baptist minister.  It's hard to escape the Baptists around here (unless, of course, you are at a Church of Christ).

The Pros: 

•  The coffee was significantly better than that at Woodmont Hills family of God.  Yes, I know this is not the criteria on which one should choose a religious experience, but hey- it's the first thing I noticed.  Plus, I really needed the caffeine that night if there was to be any taking in of the Good Word.
• I actually really liked the message, led that night by the assistant pastor.
• No weird shenanigans in the name of the Lord (as mentioned previously, defined by me as laying-on of hands, speaking in tongues, handling snakes, etc.)
• Attention to detail- they actually had a life-size replica built of the Ark of the Covenant, carried out by 2 scruffy youngsters.

• The preacher was pretty funny, for a preacher.

• It was dark, which hid my rather condescending glances around during the concert/ praise/ singing/ what-have-you.

 

 The Cons: 

• Luckily, I happened to be wearing flip-flops, or I wouldn't have fit in.
• The music was seriously over the top (and, in my opinion, lasted way too long).  The drummer was behind a screen (with extra mics), they had full concert lighting and backdrops (including the big side screens with rotating colors and backdrops), and a freaking smoke machine.  I mean, really?  REALLY?  I think they might have taken the phrase "Jesus rocks" a little too literally.
 
• Diversity?  Nope.  Unless you consider the fact that I counted at least 1/2 a dozen different Hollister shirts diversity.  The guy sitting next to me was probably 40, and I felt a little awkard for him, seeing as how he was probably the oldest dude there and all.
• It was LONG.  From 7:00- 8:30 on a Tuesday night?  I guess that's why they have good coffee.
• There was this one couple that was all over each other pretty much the whole time (at least during the worship songs).  Quite frankly, it was gross.  I seriously thought they were about to "know" each other Biblically- right there in the floor seating (oh yeah- as any good concert should have, there was both stadium and floor seating.  My friend and I lucked out with like 5th row seats!).  Ironically, the song that was playing when I first noticed this creepiness had lyrics saying something like "There is no greater love than Jesus."  Maybe this couple was trying to prove them wrong?

• Speaking of the music, there was way too much of the forced, awkward "rhyming" typically found in so much modern praise music.  Blech. 

Bottom Line: 

When I first saw the "Kairos" link on the Brentwood Baptist website, I assumed it was some kind of African mission ministry.  Turns out that it's pretty much just Southern Baptist catering to today's (white) youth.  This was definitely a "Rocker Jesus" crowd.  I thought someone should be passing around a beach ball in the floor seating, especially with all those raised praise hands.  Interestingly, though, the message didn't sell out (it was on the Fear of God).  I would go back, but I think I'll go late next time and skip the rock concert.

More info about Kairos can be found on their website:


http://www.brentwoodbaptist.com/kairos/

Church-Hopping: Review #1

Church Name: Cross Point Church

Brand of Jesus: Jury is still out on this one.  I think they are technically non-denominational,  but it felt a little Baptist-y to me.  I believe they label themselves as a "community church."

The Pros: 

•  I didn't burst into flames (as previously mentioned here- http://musingsanddrool.blogspot.com/2010/11/on-jesus-and-drool.html)
• They have a 20 minute interactive children's church thingy before regular services (which I didn't know beforehand, and therefore didn't personally experience)
• Good message
• Aesthetically pleasing backdrop
• No one did anything weird (defined by me as laying-on of hands, speaking in tongues, handling snakes, etc.)
• Nice multi-media experience, which appeals to the younger generation, but also to my inner teacher, who strives to deliver lessons geared towards different learning styles (visual learners, auditory learners, etc.)
• When I went to the nursery to pick up my kid, he was smiling and unscathed

 The Cons: 

• The pastor flat-irons his hair and was wearing skinny jeans
• I felt super-overdressed in a black skirt
• Pretty much complete lack of diversity- the auditorium was chock-full of trendy 20somethings
• Today's message was "something a little different," which consisted of a video interview between the pastor and some former NFL player dude.  This immediately made me feel like I was watching ESPN, which immediately made me zone out.
• It's one of those mega-churches where it is really easy to be lost in the crowd (actually, I can probably count this as a pro, too...)

Bottom Line: 

Not bad, but maybe not entirely for me.  These people definitely cater to Trendy Jesus (I bet this Jesus has an iPad and hangs out at Starbucks, and he wears skinny jeans instead of that white tunic thingy).  I'll probably give it another shot before making a final decision.

More info about Cross Point Church can be found on their website:

http://www.crosspoint.tv/

Weiner Comes Clean

In recent news, Rep. Anthony Weiner (D-NY, pronounced WEE-ner) has admitted to wrong-doing.  In the name of  journalistic integrity on this blog, I researched by googling "exposed weiner"  (I don't recommend that you do the same).

During this probe, Weiner's cocky attitude has not won him public favor.  As Weiner continued to be grilled,  he was reluctant to rise to the level of integrity demanded by his constituents. His lies thus far could be indicative that criminal complaints will follow, leaving the distinct possibility that Weiner will face the U.S. penile system.

Rep. Dick Johnson (R- CA) commented, "Let's be honest- he's been caught. Weiner will have a hard time getting off."  Others disagree, admiring Weiner's forthcoming honesty.  "I don't know why everyone is so hung up on this.  He shouldn't be condemned. In fact, Weiner should have a statue erected in his honor," stated Jimmy Wood, president of the National Foundation for Ethical Behavior.

Although Representative Weiner may or may not be up for re-erectionelection, preliminary talks have begun for him to become the new face of the Oscar Meyer corporation, which would carry a hefty paycheck.

Penis.

Watersports and Freedom, -or- Things Not to Try When One is Pushing 30

I think I celebrated Memorial Day in one of the most American ways possible.  In memory of our fallen soldiers, I fell,while celebrating my freedom, and consequently memorialized the official loss of my youth.  Pretty darn patriotic, right?  Here's what really happened:  I tried to learn to water ski and busted my butt (quite literally).  I'm not sure what is more damaged- my ass or my ego.

The unthinkable happened this weekend:  I actually found myself childless, physically healthy, and responsibility-free, and all on a holiday weekend!  So, in typical me fashion, I took what could have been a perfect weekend of relaxation and turned it into OvercompensationFest 2011.  "I can sleep in!" I thought to myself.  But did I stop there?  No.  Noooooo.

"I'll have champagne for breakfast!  It's a celebration!" said my internal monologue.
"An impromptu boat trip?  Great idea!" it soon repeated.
"I think now would be the PERFECT time to try waterskiing!"  I heard that pesky inner voice say.  Oh wait- no, that was my actual out-loud voice, as spoken to my friend (and boat owner) Bruce, over a few domestic beers.

 Bruce, who is younger than me and childless, decided to humor this obviously ridiculous idea. 

Someone should have stopped me before the rope was ever thrown out.   I managed to accomplish donning the skis and getting into position with all the grace and aquatic finesse of a 1-flippered manatee with an inner-ear infection.  Bruce informed me that the hardest part was getting up, and that a good strategy was to keep my legs together.  Lord knows I have plenty of practice doing that, so I thought I was in the clear.

Then came the motor.  Did I manage to keep my legs together?  No, no I did not.  Picture a strong toddler who is determined to see just how far out of socket Barbie's leg will bend.  That should give you a pretty good picture of the resulting movement of my left leg (albeit with a flabbier, less-shapely leg).  I knew I had hurt myself, but my pride hurt more.  So genius me, now stubbornly pissed off, got right back up and did the exact same thing again.  I realized very quickly that it was over.  At least for now.

Today I went back to work, hobbling around and trying to think of a clever lie to tell people when they ask me why I am limping.  I can't bring myself to say, "I dislocated my butt trying to learn to waterski over the weekend." It's just not dignified.  A least not for a woman my age.

I officially have item #1 on my "Things I should have attempted over a decade ago" list.

Valentine's Day Cards that Can't Quite Commit

This is a V-Day card MADE for men.  My "friend" just got this card in the mail:

"Because You Mean So Much"

Valentine's Day/ is a day for telling/ those people we care about/ just how much/ they mean to us.../
So I couldn't/ let this day go by/ without you knowing/ how very much/ I enjoy being with you./
The times we share/ are very special to me.../ and so are you.
HAPPY (all caps) Valentine's Day (obligatory scroll-y script).

Somebody actually got paid to write that.  I read the fine print- yep, it's actually from Hallmark. 

Now- my translation:

"Because You are Putting Out on a Semi-Regular Basis"
Valentine's Day/ is a day/ that I don't give a crap about/ but I know you expect something from me/
So I couldn't/ let this day go by/ without you thinking/ I acknowledge this/ so I can still get laid./
The times we share/ are sex/ and therefore I like them.../ and you're ok, too.
Again with the "HAPPY Valentine's Day."

Although the quality of their writing has obviously gone down, I will hand it to them: they are tapping into their niche markets. Hallmark:  Not just your grandmother's greeting card.

Sometimes, Words aren't Enough

So, I just got this handy reference brochure in the mail from the public school system for which I am employed...

Great!  A new employee assistance program!  How thoughtful.  But wait- let's zoom to the fine print on the back...

Brilliant.  Thank you, public school systems of America. 

On Jesus and Drool

I'm not a particularly religious person at this stage in my life (I'll stop and wait for the audible gasps to subside...)  I believe in a higher power and the Greater Good, but I don't want to be one of those douche-baggy people who say, "I'm not religious, I'm SPIRITUAL."

I grew up hardcore COC (Church of Christ, for you lay people), and then immediately rebelled against it upon being subjected to daily chapel and Bible classes at Lipscomb University.  To be fair to Lipscomb, I was already leaning away, but that was the Jesus-straw that broke the proverbial camel's back.

Now that I'm a mommy, I am revisiting the whole religion thing.  I have fond memories of church as a small child (it's when I became old enough to ask questions that things went sour), and I think it's good for kids to grow up with that moral compass and community.  Therefore, I'm trying to find some happy medium for A.  You know, somewhere in between Sunday pagan sleeping-in rituals, and Shoving-Jesus-Forcibly-Down-Your-Throat-Old-School-COC.

So the question becomes, what kind of church fits my little family?  It needs to be strong enough for Austin, yet pH-balanced for Mommy.  Liberal enough to accept that I'm an unrepentant single mother/ recreational alcoholic, but not so liberal as, for example, the Unitarian Church fairy walks (no joke- a teacher down the hall from me last year did that shit.)

I actually tried a new church today, and it was ok.  You can click here for the full review.  I didn't burst into flames, so that was good.  A was also super-smiley when I picked him up from the nursery, so that was good, too.  I didn't rededicate my life or anything this morning, but at least I had A mingling with a morally superior group of tots.

So far, so.... so...

e-Dating.

Interesting.

I feel like I can't give an impartial review, and here's why:

• I tried it on a whim,  
• I really don't give a damn if I meet someone or not, and 
• My ulterior motive is writing material or a funny story or two for dinner parties.

That being said- I can't decide if I am awesome or the biggest loser ever (in the improper noun sort of way- not in the Capitalized/ Jillian Michaels And Allison Sweeny Just Handed Me A Grand Prize Of $250,000 sort of way.) I hear complaints from various friends about not receiving enough matches, or not getting any dates from the 2 particular sites that I have joined (the other shall remain nameless to keep my last shred of dignity somewhat intact-ish).  Me, however- I get plenty of matches.  These matches have included gems such as:

• A cattle farmer
• An avid self-help book reader and collector (Grrreeeat)
• Men who I consider "geographically challenged"
• A couple of guys who, judging from their pictures, I am pretty sure had parents who were related
• Fatties.  eHarmony clearly didn't listen to my particular deal-breakers.
• And this one guy who sent a message to introduce himself with the subject, "Let's F@ck."  Except he didn't use a euphamistic symbol.  And he didn't actually introduce himself.  That's all there was to it.

Between these 2 sites, there are 3 or 4 guys that I find interesting (But one of those is un-datable- he's overweight, has a creepy beard, and lists his profession as "the pursuit of happiness."  He also included an FBI "person of interest" picture.  He's hilarious, though).  Of the potentially datable ones, one seems a little too young, one is a little too old, and one looks just right (and he's hot!), but he uses bad grammar.

My initial screening process is twofold:  once through where I am too nice, and then through the list again later, armed with chardonnay and a girlfriend to make the harsher but inevitable cuts.  I haven't met anyone yet, but I am working on being less judgmental.

On Dating (and Drool)

I hate dating.  Hate, hate, hate it.  I always have.  Perhaps that's why I habitually date guys I work with- because I already know them, and I get to skip the whole awkward, "You like horses? I like horses, TOOOOO!" part.  However, I am growing increasingly concerned about the level of co-dependence that my roomie and I seem to be slipping so easily into.  She fixes things while I cook dinner.  I take out the trash while she does dishes.  Yesterday, I ordered for her before she got to happy(ish) hour.

One of my BFFs, Misty, has been in a co-dependent relationship with her roommate for about 4 years now.  They are an old married couple- I swear it.  D and I have not been cohabiting long enough for this.  It must stop now, before it is too late!

So, now that I have taken a good hard look at my current life, I see pretty clearly that my most likely future includes me, D, and about 20 hairless cats.  I'm not math-savvy enough to run the actual statistical analysis, but I'm pretty sure that the odds aren't good.  Although I love my roomie dearly, I am not quite ready to give up yet (after my recent for-real 29th birthday, I consider it a waste of my last good trophy-wife years).  On that note, I have decided to do the unthinkable...

I am going to consider the possibility of dating.  Like, really dating.  And on that note (and also on Ambien), I have signed up for 3 months of eHarmony at a "limited time special price."  I never thought in a million years that I would be at this point:  yet another single mom on a dating website. Stay tuned for results-  I expect hilarity to ensue.  If nothing else, it could make for good blogging, no?

"Are You My November Daddy?"

I have officially found something that sucks more than dating as a single mom- breaking up as a single mom.

So now, on top of the suckage that automatically ensues in a breakup, I have the added guilt of potentially causing my child psychological trauma.  Sure, anyone who knows me knows that I could never be truly happy forever with a man named Larry who lives on Bland Drive (no joke- and his dentist's name is Dr. Downer), but my kid doesn't understand that.  All A knows is that he is around a lot, has really cool toys at his house, and has way more follow-through than Mommy when it comes to disciplinary action.

How do people do this?  How the crap does this dating thing work with a kid?  There are so many new levels (and it's not like dating wasn't hard enough before.)

The way I see it, here are the options:

A) Keep a steady stream of men around so that A is accustomed, but not attached (November Daddy, anyone?)
B) Settle for a man with good bone structure and a W2 (hey, I've done worse)
C) Give up entirely, -or-
D) Win the cosmic love lottery and have Mr. Right show up on my doorstep, sweep me off my feet, and turn  me into one of those women who actually live in dual-income households (without making A get a job making Nikes or sewing for Kathy Lee's clothing line)

I'm thinking 'C'. 

Bitter, Party of One

So I just watched this birth slide show by some Orange County photographer on Facebook, because one of my friends posted it, and then about 30 of my other friends commented on how beautiful it was, and how they all cried. 
  
 Here is my take on it.

 This gorgeous chick and her super-attentive husband had a natural home birth, complete with midwive, grandma, and expensive photographer (who set the slideshow to a musical background of Enya).  I can only hope that mom's legs and body were photoshopped, because no human being is that hairless- even the tiny one that she pushed out in her inflatable birthing tub, set upon immaculate yet really cool hardwood floors.  This really good-looking couple's hip tattoos would lend one to believe that they had crappy jobs, but at least they had each other- but their Orange County home, apparently remodeled and filled with understated modern artwork, screamed otherwise.  They have money, too.  Bastards.

So let me recap:  Gorgeous couple, trendy enough for me not to hate, nice home, apparently head-over-heels in love, perfect naturally birthed baby with cool name- all set to aforementioned musical backdrop of Enya. 

And yet all I, with my overly cynical mind and chubby Baby Daddy who doesn't want to pay child support, could think was this- Haha, I had an epidural, biotch.  Who's in labor now???  Mwhahaha. Epidurals are better than world peace.  My epidural kicks her lovely and thoughtful birthing present (a probably really expensive necklace with the baby's initial as the centerpiece)'s ass.

Maybe I'll have my upcoming child support hearing photographed by someone artsy, and set it to a musical backdrop of Yanni (or some such nonsense).  Stay tuned- and please try to post on how beautiful it was.





    

Men who Want Minivans and the Women who Love(d) Them

     Mom friends, countrymen, suburbanites, lend me your ears:  I come to call your attention to a hidden U.S. epidemic-- More and more men are secretly wanting mini-vans.

     But are these men- our husbands, fathers, and businessmen- caravaning in suited droves to the local Dodge dealership?  No.  No, they are not.  Instead, they are trying to seduce us, their women, into the test driver's seat of Siennas and Odysseys.  They are luring us into believing that we need a minivan to properly fulfill our suburban destiny.  They casually drop amenities like "extra cabin space" and the "convenience of sliding doors" into any and all auto-related conversations.  And be sure that every time we bitch and moan about some trivial problem with our sensible mid-sized sedans, these men latch on, minivan wheels spinning in their heads.

"But why are all these men suddenly wanting minivans?" you may ask.  I have no idea. But alas, it seems that the days of domestic bickering over mid-life crises and sporty convertibles are soon to be long gone.  And as they go, so too go oversized pick-up trucks and chest hair.  It's simply un-American.

What I do know, however, is why these men are trying to fulfill their minivan fantasies vicariously through us, their unsuspecting female companions.  It is simple: Pride.  They are ashamed to admit that inner longing and drive, that desire for extended drive-train and sensibility.  We, ladies, are the cover.  This way, they can play the "I had to appease the wife" card over the water cooler as their masculine friends snicker at the new purchase.  But be sure when it is time for the next family outing, your man will "offer" to take the wheel so you can relax.  He can always nod to you if another man driver casts him a condescending look at a traffic light.

I ask you this:  If our men are too good to be seen driving mini-vans, aren't we? I submit to you that we are. Beware the closeted minivan wanter.  The next time hubby casually leaves out a copy of Motor Trends opened to the latest review of the Chrysler Town & Country, close it, or better yet, cover it with Cosmo.  The next time he looks at you with that baby-making gleam in his eye, ask yourself exactly where he plans to have you put the extra car seat.  Check out this gem from a popular minivan manufacturer's website:

"Sure, function led you to Grand Caravan, but when you change from errand clothes to evening clothes, it's nice to navigate shiny chrome and a crosshair grille up to the valet with pride."  

Who wrote this?  A man did.

 Resist, reach within, and seek out that sexy inner you- the one before salaried jobs and mortgages, when the souvenir from a hot date was a hangover, not a balloon for the kid.  What will it be- MILF or mom jeans?

Stand for what you believe in, or else go ahead and proudly don those jeans in all their high-waisted glory.
I say we leave the minivans to caterers and home-schoolers where they belong.  It's a little thing called dignity. It's time to rise up and fight for womankind- and for manhood.

Application for Step Dad

Repost- trying to consolidate some blogs. Still relevant, though! :)

Application for Step-Dad
Current mood: cantankerous

Announcing vacancy for Step dad for Austin, trophy husband for Erin (11/04/08)

Please answer the following questions truthfully and honestly. Please attach a separate page if you feel any answer needs to explained more thoroughly.

Basics:

Name:
Age:
Sex: (One can't be too sure these days)
Occupation:
Approximate salary: _______ yearly
Marital Status: if divorced, how evil is your ex-wife? 1(least evil- 5 makes Satan look like a Girl Scout) 1 2 3 4 5
amount of alimony/ month? ___
Children? y / n if yes, how many?
amount of child support/ month? ____
Do you like children? y n
Do you want to have more children? y n if yes, how many? ____

More questions:
Are you a musician, or do you plan in any way to one day support yourself by being a professional musician instead of your current job as a waiter? If yes, thank you for your interest, but your skill set is not a match for this position at this time. Y/ N

How crazy is your mother? 1 2 3 4 5
How involved is she in your life? 1 2 3 4 5
Do you work out? Y/ N
Please list your hobbies:


On a scale from 1-5, how much rage would you have if I asked you to take out the trash? 1 2 3 4 5

Do you drink? Y N
If yes, what is your drink of choice? Beer __ Whiskey __ Martini __ Something Fruity__ Jagermeister__
If you answered "Something Fruity" or "Jagermeister," you do not need to answer any more questions on this application. Thank you for your interest.
Approximate of drinks per week? 1 or 2 ___ 3-5___ 5-10___ I don't remember ___

You would best describe your perfect date as:
A. A couple of drinks, and a professional sporting event
B. A candlelight dinner and scenic walk
C. Doing repeated shots of Jagermeister at a dingy sports bar, followed by showing me videos of episodes of Reality TV that you appeared on
D. Just hanging out at home talking and watching movies
E. Something so strange and disturbing that it would never ever make this list

What is your credit score? ___

Approximately how many hours per week will you be willing to help me with the baby? ___

What would you want your role to be in Austin's life?
A. A strict disciplinarian
B. A friend and confidant
C. A role model
D. I want Austin to be my golf caddy
E. Mortal enemy
F. Other (please explain) __________

Why do you want to be considered for this position?



Thank you for your interest. Candidates who are determined by HR to be matches for the position will be contacted for follow-up interview.

Read more: http://blogs.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog.ListAll#ixzz0r8QnzVaN

Kissing Frogs: A Thinly-Veiled Metaphor

There once was a young woman who would sometimes think back to her childhood. She remembered, quite vividly, catching tadpoles in various neighborhood bodies of water on those long, lazy Southern summer days. It was such a small thrill- the chase, the competition, the catch. There was strategy and risk, triumph and defeat. The neighborhood kids would boldly venture through unexplored woods, on a quest for the perfect pond- the Holy Grail of Tadpoling. Sure, there were tangible risks, like poison ivy and Copperheads, but that was all part of the allure- that element of danger lurking at the edge of almost stifling normalcy. Sometimes, some of the kids (those that were louder, braver, or more apt to prove Darwin right) would get side-tracked and try to catch the usually poisonous water snakes, but not her. She was smart enough to know when it was all for show, and besides, she wanted something attainable. And she always got it. At the end of the day, those other kids would count her amphibious conquests with envy, as they returned empty-handed to stretch tales of the deadly snake that got away. She would emerge from the forest sweaty, mud-stained, and victorious. If only she had outgrown it.

Of course, while catch and release was great fun, she was sometimes left wanting more (as children and sportsmen often do). Twice she made a valid attempt at keeping the tadpoles. In her first attempt, she tried to turn their captive environment into something cute and girly- a well-decorated trophy case in which to display her shrinking-tailed glories. Naturally, they soon died. Not being one to easily accept defeat, the girl learned from this attempt, and the next round of tadpoles were welcomed into a terrarium as close to their natural habitat as possible (however stagnant and un-color coordinated it might have been). She nurtured them, and took pleasure from watching them grow as a direct result of her time and attention. However, as the tadpoles realized their full potential and turned into frogs, she quickly came to the realization that she really had neither use nor desire for frogs. They were smelly, ugly, and loud; not to mention she had to actually procure food for them. She could have released them into the wild and set them free, but instead she chose the path of least resistance- leaving all but their most basic needs untended until the frogs grew big enough to escape their cage, hopping away to an uncertain fate.

Some things never change.

On Birthdays and Self-Loathing

My birthday sucks. It has for many, many years. I've come to expect it. However, I now have a toddler. A sweet, innocent, wide-eyed child, for whom birthdays are still new and magical, and without disappointment. This post should be about how magical A's birthday was, and what it meant to me as his mom- but it's not. I have that one in his baby book. The other side of the story is...

Yesterday was my baby's birthday. I had to work, and Tuesdays are my long day. You see, I work an extra job one day a week to help make ends meet. I do this not because I want to, but because my baby's daddy decided that helping with those ends wasn't so very important to him. So after my 12 hour day, my "family" went out to eat to celebrate the rest of the birthday that I had to miss. We never do anything together anymore, an after all, it was a special occasion. GRANTED, it was my bright idea, but...

The three of us go the restaurant. We sit, we order, we bicker like always, and we eat. Austin, in true celebratory mode, proceeds to throw all his kids meal (which we NEVER order him, because he just wants to share... but it was a special occasion!) into the floor in true baby gangsta fashion. You know, like those rap guys popping bottles of Cristal champagne just to pour them out over the hoochy back-up dancers. What a waste.

But I digress. Let's fast-forward to the check. The server brings it. Baby Daddy has been working for over a month now, so I make no move for it. Neither does he. It was like a classic game of stare down without the staring. He knew the check was there; I knew the check was there. He knew that I knew, and vice versa. But neither of us made a move. Finally, he cracked. He picked up the check, pulled out his wallet, and I began feeling victorious (which never, ever ends well for me). I thought that this, THIS, was the moment. The moment I had aspired to for over a year. The moment that I was validated not just as an incubator and ATM, but as a mother and human being. But alas, the moment was quickly crushed when he pulled out a single bill and passed the check to me. He wanted to split it. I was livid.

Before you pass judgment, let me mention that this restaurant was Logan's Road House. And we ordered off the "2 for $14.99" menu. Granted, we both had soft drinks, and we did splurge for that special kid's meal. I realize that in the grand scheme of life, it's not such a big deal- but really? Really? This is the thanks I get for carrying his child for 9 months (3 of which were spent on bed rest), giving birth, and busting my ass to single-handedly support our family? I'm not worth 2 for $14.99?

Insanity has been defined as doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.

And the moral of the story, kids, is "Don't get knocked up." And if you do, be sure to either run his background check and FICO score first, or be prepared to lower your standards- significantly.


At least Logan's has good rolls.

On Dating and Sleep Training (Especially Sleep Training)

There comes a point in every previously knocked-up woman's life where she reaches a crossroads. The single (or in my case, single-ish) mommy thing is a delicate balance- does she continue with the currently working formula, however precarious it may be; or does she risk tipping the scales and upsetting the balance to find a chance at new and possibly everlasting happiness?

Whatever the path this nurturing, overworked, and under-appreciated purely hypothetical mother might choose, one thing is certain: I Need To Freaking Sleep.

"And exactly how might this relate to dating?" you might ask. Imagine with me, if you will, exactly how a woman like me might begin a dating relationship.

**********Scenario*************
Boy sees girl in a crowded public place. Boy and girl make eye contact. Eye contact becomes flirtatious. Boy decides to approach girl. Conversation goes something like this:
Boy: So, come here often?
Girl: Back off buddy, I have a baby.
*Now, we have 2 options.*
(A) Boy flees immediately, or
(B) Boy doesn't see the big deal, and pursues the conversation.
Boy: So, what part of town do you live in?
Girl: I live in the suburbs, with my Baby Daddy.
*Boy becomes concerned*
Boy: So you guys are still together?
Girl: No, but I fully support him financially, and have for a very long time.
*Boy's ears perk up, thinking he may have found the independently wealthy golden ticket*
Boy: So, what do you do for a living?
Girl: I am a teacher and full-time grad student.
*Boy realizes the error of previous logic*
*And again, we have 2 options*
(A) Boy immediately runs away and warns his friends along with every other eligible bachelor in the bar, or
(B) Boy is genuinely interested in Girl, and a relationship ensues.
***************************************

Let's assume that Boy chose option (B) on the latter. At some point in any serious adult relationship, an overnight visit is bound to occur. So in our scenario, Boy has chosen to overlook all the other baggage, only to find a crying toddler in Mommy's bed by 11:00. And we are not just talking whimpering- we're talking wailing and gnashing of teeth. Not just tonight, but every night. Maybe even every night forever (Don't believe me? Just ask my friend, whose 7 year old step-son still sleeps in the bed with Mommy at night. I, for one, would be willing to bet that Mommy is single). This does not bode well for Boy and Girl.

Of course, if you know me at all, you know that I would never expect a man to come sweep me off my feet and make life super grand. So let's explore, more briefly (due to the fact that I'm crashing from aforementioned lack of sleep) that the mother took the other path: The overworked single mom is juggling a career and a child, and putting in extra hours to make ends meet. Toddler doesn't sleep, toddler keeps not sleeping, so Mommy doesn't sleep- ergo, sleep-deprived Mommy botches something important at work, gets fired and replaced by a younger, more put-together toddlerless woman without the ever-present stains on her shirt, bags under her eyes, and coffee pot in her hand.

And now to the point, for which you have surely been eagerly awaiting: I say all this to justify ignoring my kid's sobbing pleas for me currently coming from his room. The way I see it, he will be far more damaged in the long run from the lack of a stable and loving step-daddy (path 1) or the loss of a roof over his head (path 2) than from the lack of instant gratification in the form of coming to my bed. Of course I tell myself this now, but that doesn't currently make me any less tired. If this scenario ("Mommmmmmmmmmyyyyyy! Daaaaaddddddy! Why don't you LOVE me? WAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!") continues to play out tomorrow, Mommy might have to rule out medical reasons, like Austin's genetic susceptibility to my terrible seasonal allergies, for which Children's Benadryl is clearly the best treatment. This pollen is ridiculous, and if marked drowsiness is a side effect, so be it.

It's all about what is in the child's best interest.

Targeted Marketing Gone Too Far

Targeted advertising freaks me out. I google one thing out of curiosity, or update my Facebook profile, and I get super specific ads popping up on my sidebars for weeks (P90X, Online Education Degrees, ShamWows...) "They" know too much, and to make matters worse, I don't even know who "they" are. It's creepy.

I am thankful that I know that it happens, although I'm not particularly clear on the how part. In an online group that I am a member of, a young mom once posted that she was furious that her very young daughter's favorite educational website was displaying "adult" themed advertisments. Other moms posted advice ranging from "Call and complain!" to "Call a Lawyer!" No one had the heart to mention that she should talk to her husband about viewing porn on the computer. I sure didn't. I hope she was let down gently, whatever route she chose to take.

However, this week, targeted marketing has gone too far. It was bad enough when Ladies' Home Journal showed up in my mailbox, but now... tampons? Really? It's even creepier that I just recently got my monthly visitor back (the one and only greatest thing about pregnancy and extended breastfeeding, other than a happy little baby, of course). HOW did "they" know this? Tooooooo much information! Sure, maybe it's just a crazy coincidence that this is the time that a Playtex sample box showed up in my mailbox, but that doesn't make for a very good blog post. I maintain that it's super creepy.

The creepiest part was the literature that came in the packet. There was a postage-paid card to send in for a chance to win a $250 Visa Gift card. I was reading the fine print (I'm a freak), when this sentence popped out at me- "We will contact you within a few months to see how you enjoyed your Playtex tampons." What?!?! There are several verbs I could think of to associate with tampons, but enjoy? What kind of freak enjoys a tampon? Who are these people? And how did they get my address?

Yep, targeted marketing freaks me out.

Move Over "Biggest Loser"

Meet Erin, diet guru and founder of The New World Diet.

I personally used this diet to lose the last of my stubborn baby weight, and now I want to offer this tested system to you for the low price of $19.99. But wait- order now, and I'll slash $19.99 off that payment! That's right! But you must act within the next 3 minutes!

Here is the rundown of my patented system, which combines science and pop culture to get you results you never dreamed of. First, you need to catch Swine Flu. Kiss a pig, lick a Mexican, play in a ball pit at Chuck E. Cheese- do whatever it takes! This is the "jump start" portion of my system, and will kick your weight loss into high gear. Once you see the immediate results, you will be encouraged and motivated enough to enter into phase 2 of my system: Have someone in your household lose his or her job. It can be you, your significant other, your child (please obey applicable child labor laws) or even a very close roommate. What matters here is that in this economy, a new job will not soon be found, and it will take weeks to get an unemployment check in the mail. By the time money starts to flow in again, you will have been unable to afford food for weeks! No temptation for you, my friend! (It is very important to follow my program in this exact order, since you need to be in a healthy state prior to contracting Swine Flu, and have health insurance just in case.

With my system, H1NE1can get results! So don't wait, pick up the phone and call today, before it gets disconnected!!!