What I really want for Mother's Day

May 2010


Hi guys;

I know I haven't written but I've managed to break myself again! This is so bloody embarrassing because I did it in such a mundane boring way--getting in the tub; soap was involved; you get the picture.

The Mountain Man has bought me a laptop so that I will stay in bed and prop my foot up instead of sitting at the computer trying to do gymnastics to get it on the desk. I don’t dare try to put my foot on a stool since my leg then becomes an instant dog, cat, or kid and hubby magnet.

I’ve just watched, "the Proposal" with Sandra Bullock because Breyan told me that two of the characters reminded him of me and Aunt Yvonne, (which I'm really hoping is the mom and the Gamma because if he’s saying I remind him of the anal Sandra Bullock character, I'm gonna hit him with my crutch!)

Anyway, it gave me an insight into how my son views me as a Mom; most likely to take over someone’s life, fake a heart attack to get someone to talk to his son like a grown up and remake a wedding dress in one night. All right, well he’s not far off the mark on that one.

This got me to thinking about how lucky I am to have two, pretty great kids who managed to turn into normal, healthy, happy, kind of adjusted people.

That got me to thinking about Mothers Days and I had an epiphany!I don't really like Mother's Day.

No, I don’t hate Mothers Day, what I should have said was, I don’t enjoy the traditional Mother’s Day.

Yes, I love the sappy homemade 'I luv Mummy," cards.  The morning cuddle and the hugs.  It's the rest of the day I usually just don't have the energy for.

I kind of wish I had the courage at some point to tell my kids and hubby what I really wanted my Mother’s Day to be like.

Traditionally, my mother's day will start with me being woken up far too early for it to be considered, "day," convinced that the house is on fire due to the alarming smell of burnt toast.  Then I will hear a crash, the Mountain Man's rumbling at the kids, and the kids frantic promises, "to clean it up right away."

Next, they will all troop into the bedroom with a homemade, cholesterol/fat/sugar laden breakfast on a tray while I sit there thinking, “Crap, I just cleaned the kitchen."

I will paste on my, "surprised Mum," smile as they troop in as I am frantically trying to signal the dog to come into the room so I can accidently drop most of it on the floor.

When I’ve finished every bit of food on the tray and my family is convinced I enjoyed every bite, they will announce they are letting me take a bath all on my own. They solemnly promise they are not going to interrupt. "I can take all the time I need."
Yeah right!

 This sounds like heaven to every Mom, except Dad has been in there twenty minutes before doing his "man" routine involving a newspaper and Caitlin has been in doing her part to create holes in the ozone layer with her hair products and Breyan has been lathering on the aftershave.  If only I could bottle that smell I would RULE the germ warfare market!

After my bath, in which there have only been three knocks on the door, one emergency and one, "Are you going to be much longer, I have to go pee!"  I will come downstairs to open my lovely gifts.

They are very thoughtful gifts but how many bathsalts, housecoats and skin creams can one mom use? I mean really. I don't have enough room in my drawers and if I dare try re-gifting one of the baskets for a wedding or baby shower, sure enough, one of my kids will pop up with, "But Mom I thought you loved that perfume? That‘s why we bought it for you," right in the middle of me passing the canapés.

 Next, Hubby and kids will have planned a family outing. Where do we go? Somewhere that promises 'Good, Clean, Family Fun!" In the car I will have to settle at least two, “He’s touching me,” arguments.  I will dream of the days when the kids were little and we used to sing songs in the car.  Nowadays my kids will spend the entire trip answering their text messages and have their earphones jammed in their ears so tight I have to know gorilla sign language just to ask if they need to go to the bathroom.

 Throughout the day, the kids will consume large amounts of fat, carbohydrate laden, creamy, heart-buster food that they will promptly puke up on one of those clean family fun rides.

Need I go on?

Mother’s Day is just too much work for mothers. So then I thought, "What would be my perfect Mother's Day?"

The day before, everybody would get together and spring clean the house without arguing, nagging or negotiating, so that when Mom wakes up on Mother Day, there is no laundry, dishes, vacuuming etc...

Dad will run out to the bakery and get bagels, (preferably Kettlemens because they rock even without toasting,) cream cheese and fresh fruit already chopped and ready to serve. He will buy the expensive fresh squeezed orange juice, (not the kind in a can that you buy by the dozen since the kids go through the stuff like dope heads in a crack house.)

The next morning Mom will wake up when she wants, to a Martha Stewart designed tray with fresh flowers, a continental breakfast and possibly chocolate. Six cups of coffee will be lined and waiting to be refilled. All presents and cards will wait until Mom has taken her hour long, uninterrupted bath.

Dad will have used the bathroom at the bakery.

Dad will then tell Mom that he has called three of her closest friends (fly them in if you have to,) and made a deal with their partners to chauffeur the women downtown for lunch at which he has paid ahead of time for many, many Marguerita’s. There will be no children, no husbands, and no curfews.

The kids will present the homemade macaroni card and a gift thoughtfully chosen from the three page list Mom gave Dad weeks ago.  Dad will then let her know that his own gift, a gift card, comes from the place that only sells women's lingerie--not the kind that hookers wear.

 There will be no possibility that mom will go to the store and come home with new jeans and socks for the kids.  You see this is the problem with gift cards. If you buy a mom a gift card for a department store, she will buy something for her kids. She will feel guilty if she buys herself new sexy underwear when she knows her kids will outgrow their winter boots and she hasn’t gotten around to buying them a new pair. Usually a mom will save a gift card for "when we really need something."

Moms don't often get a chance to buy underwear that she really hopes she'll never get in an accident wearing, (because, "what would people think?") Moms also do not want Dads picking out their underwear because most mens taste run along the lines of "two pieces of floss held up by a rubber band."  Moms want matching, comfortable, 'put it back where it was 20 years ago' underwear.  I don't care if Mom is now 250 lbs and you have to find a naughty store for six foot cross dressers, that store is where you buy the gift card!

That afternoon, the Dad's will take turns chauffeuring the women; but not all at once. Each Dad will take turns so only one wife at a time will worry; that hubby will get jealous of the mom's giggling at the waiters tight pants, or worry that Dad will say something stupid to the other women or give her the "HOW MUCH DID THAT COST? " look.

Once the Mom's are truly giddy and girly they will retire to the house with the biggest TV, preferably HD and the men will have vacated to one of the other mom's house with the kids, leaving mom to a night of wine, giggling, chocolate and a "Colin Firth in a wet shirt" movie.

No one may call mom to ask; where they left their backpack, is it okay to feed the dog the leftover fruit because they ran out of dog food, how to bake anything.

You may call her ONCE to tell her you love her and make sure she's having a ball. Make sure her friends hear you say you love her.

At the end of the night the Dad's will collect their respective Mom's-- having fed the kids and given them their baths.  The children may stay up long enough to say goodnight and let mom read them a bedtime story. Mom will collect one more "I love you, Mommy, kisses and hugs."

This is the Mothers Day I dream of and am too guilty and afraid of hurting our kid’s feelings to ask for.  I'm sure I'm not the only Mom that would love a day like this.  Is it really too much to ask?

Ah well.  I should be thankful I have a loving, caring family willing to burn toast for me.  As for the rest, I guess I can live without it.  However, don't you dare forget the homemade, handcrafted 'I LUV MUMMY.' card or I will cry and you will be in for a life of hell for at least a year or until Mom's birthday when you may have a chance to get it right.

Kimberley

PS, The Gamma in the movie is my grandmother in disguise--not me. I am a Nona!

The Nuclear Family has Exploded? Why didn't I hear the bang?

I was not that young when I had my first child.  I was twenty-two.  That may seem young today but I grew up in a generation where our mothers were married right after high school and a few right out of college.  I grew up in the 1960's in Canada. 

The world really was a different place.  In my generation, my family had a horrible secret!  It wasn't a dirty secret but there was always the whispering behind the hands from the mothers at the school, the teachers would be extra nice to me and my sister and I could probably have used our family situation as a defence in court. 

You see, I came from a "broken home."  That's what they called it in those days.  My parents were divorced.  They divorced when I was two years old. 

(There really is a sordid story behind all this but the Mothers, teachers and friends didn't know it because wife abuse was NEVER spoken of!)

It was just so shocking to the average mother of those times that there was a child in their child's class  that had divorced parents!!!! 

And it really affected me.  The teacher would always find a "special project just for me" during Mother's Day activities if we were between stepmothers or when family tree projects came around I was given special permission to either chose another project or my paper was handed back upside down.  I was quietly excused the obligatory Mother Day Assembly, etc..... 

Yes when I was growing up, not only was there the Christmas pageant, there was the Mother's Day one where we wrote poems and skits about how much we appreciated our mothers, there was the Father's Day Pancake Day.  Now my grandgirlz attend the "Holiday Assembly" and there are great savings for the schools in the white paste column of their budget since they cut down the production of Mother/Father Day's cards in today's classrooms.


Some mothers would not let me play with their kids and there were few and far between mothers who would let their kids come play at my house. 

What made it worse is that my FATHER had custody of us.  There were always two camps.  The people who sympathized with my sister and I or the ones that were convinced we were in for a life of degradation and crime~with the latter being the most popular opinion.  Whatever side you were on, my sister and I were the freaks in our class.

Well the world grew up and changed.  Divorce became the popular sport and by the time I got out of high school, it wasn't usual but it wasn't a scandal anymore.  I didn't mention it unless someone asked and I really didn't pay that much attention to the fact that the Nuclear Family was becoming a thing of the past.   Until.....


One day my seven year old daughter came home crying her eyes out.  I poked and pried and finally found out what it was that she was upset about.

"Why are you and Daddy still married???"  she wailed.  "It's just not fair!  I am just such a freak!"

Well after I got over my shock and blew her nose I got the real story. 

It was just after Christmas and the kids in the class were doing the "How I spent my holidays" report.

"Everybody in my class has two Christmas Days, two rooms, two bikes and two houses.  I only have one," she snivelled.  "My teacher told me it's because the other kids parents are divorced and their Mummy and Daddy live in seperate houses.  Some of them have two mommies and two daddies and they get lots and lots of presents."  she sniffed. 

"  [Teacher] said I was lucky 'cause I only have one Mummy and one Daddy."  she started crying again.  "All the kids were teasing me that they had two bikes and stuff."

She looked up with those teary big, blue eyes and asked again, "Why are you and Daddy still married?" 

I almost apologized to my daughter for being a normal nuclear family. 

I almost felt bad for the fact that she was so different from the rest of the kids in her class. 

Then I started roaring laughing and I thought about it and said, "You poor thing.  Your mummy and your daddy love each other and we will never be divorced.  You are just going to have to live with that.  I'm sorry if it means that you aren't going to get more stuff.  If any of the other kids tease you about this again, you just tell them that it doesn't matter what they say, you only need one mummy and daddy."

Curious I went to talk to the teacher the next day and I asked her, "Is there really that many children of divorced parents in your class?" 

She told me about 50% of the class were from divorced or single parent homes.

I was remembering this  and I was remembering that we used to have this saying,  "Of course it's quiet, it's the Father's weekend."   This was when the neighbourhood would get really quiet and you had to call the other parents if you wanted to plan something for the weekend like a birthday party. 

I wondered what it was like now, so I went and asked my daughter in law how many kids in my granddaughters class are from divorced or single parent homes.  

"I don't know the exact number Mum but about 75% I'd guess. "

75 percent??!  Even accounting for the fact that my granddaughters school is in the middle of the low-income housing district and we live in the city, I didn't think that number could be correct.  But it is!!!

This was news to me.

So if I was in school today, I would be the norm? 

I always knew I was ahead of my time!

How can I feel sexy with peanut butter down my bra?

Warning, this post walks a thin line between PG and R.


I don't know if you guys know this but this blog is made up of letters to my friends and Gramma. I found one from when the kids were little and with a little updating, nothing has actually changed.  My daughter in law who is expecting in February will understand this one.


May 1994

I have always believed that if you feel sexy, other people will see you as sexy.  I've seen 6' 2" women who weigh in close to a small rhinos be considered sexy because they feel they are, they know they are and they will let you know it too girlfriend!

If you really look at the sex symbols of history you will notice that some of them can in no way be described as a traditional beauty but they were the greatest sex symbols of their time.  They didn't have to wear camel toe jeans or low cut tops.  They didn't wear nine pounds of make up.  They had class!  Name a few? Mae West, Ethel Merman, Lily Langtry. These women could be called pretty, handsome or nice looking today but they were the Hot Mama's in their own time!  What made them sex symbols is that they had no shame, they made an effort, they had class, had a sense of humour about how they looked but most of all, Because they made you believe it!!!!


I will complain about it but I have to admit it's a boost to my self esteem that even after three kids, my hubby still tells me I make his motor run.  It's annoying sometimes and I often want to lend him out to my single friends so I can get some sleep but really, when I look around at the other mothers I see the challenges we have to face. It's a thin line between sexy and trashy.  The mother wearing the mini-skirt, five inch heels and shirt cut down to her navel is not sexy. 

(You are still not allowed not allowed to snub her or whisper with the other mothers about her because if you are going to that, then you are a Bi--h.  If you haven't been in her bedroom while she's doing the football team, you have no right to call her anything.  If it bugs you that much, make friends and then offer a makeover.  I've gotten my best babysitters this way.)

 I don't see very many women at the playground that would be considered "Foxes."  Most of the moms are usually wearing sweats, running shoes, they have no make up on and they couldn't attract flies. 

Then I see the mothers that you would consider "sexy."   Not the kind that men consider sexy because they show skin, the classy sexy ones. They are wearing skirts, have perfect makeup, hair and nails and men are turning heads, opening doors and whistling.  These are the women that are considered sexy. 

Don't they know that Mother Nature herself is standing behind them, just waiting to pull down their butts and boobs and counting the ticks on the biological clock wrinkle bomb? Why do they seem know that the guy who just whistled is whistling at them? 

Yeah they know all that stuff.  They just don't care. That  is part of their secret of being "sexy?" 

They have the same amount of kids as I have and at the same age yet they look ten years younger and I wish I could say, "Because they have an au pair" but I look in the mirror and wail, "It's because I've given up."  I just don't have time to fiddle around with nail polish and hairspray.  I can't keep my clothes free of kid sticky, or baby barf.

How can I possibly feel sexy when there is peanut butter down my bra?


Once you become a mother, time inevitably takes it's toll and admit it, we get lazy.  We figure we are moms and we don't need to be sexy anymore. It's a lot of work. 

My friend told me about a guy who had a sex change.  She met him/her a few months after at the grocery store, wearing sweats, no make up, hair in a bun.  He sighed and told her, "Looking good is so much work!"

 I have nightmares that I will end up being one of those woman who wear hair curlers to the store. 


It all starts in pregnancy.  How can a woman even imagine she looks Farrah Fawcett [or in today's world Megan Fox] in the first trimester when you've been throwing up all afternoon, * your hair is tied back with a rubber band to keep it out of the way when you puke and you may still be riding high on the news but in the back of your mind you're like, "Oh my God I'm going to be huge!" 

Putting on makeup is just too much of a challenge in the morning and yes your skin has either decided to be the best it's ever been or, more commonly, you get acne all over again.


Then you get to the second trimester, where--- if this is your first child--- nothing is showing but you can't wait to wear those maternity clothes and if it's the end of your pregnancy or your second or third~ you can't wait to burn them. 

 Who came up with one piece jumpers as maternity wear?  The label should say Marquis de Sade.  Didn't this designer realize pregnant women have to pee three times an hour?  At one point, you finish going pee and by the time you get to the bathroom door you have to go again!  Worse, the baby starts kicking and for the first few weeks it's a miracle of Nature; after that it's "I think I'm harbouring the next Judo Kickboxing Champ."  You are so tired that, while you won't admit it to anyone, you privately think of the baby as "The Leech."


Oh and here's the sexy part, you're butt is now growing at the same rate as your belly, you get rashes under your arms and between your cheeks and if you are as stupid as I was you will be dying from heat rashes ~that you can't take any medication for because who's stupid idea was it to have a baby in September?  That's it honey, from now on, no sex in January!!


You trade in your "four inch heels" for "four inch wide" shoes to accommodate the swelling.


When people describe you as a "Madonna" they are not talking about the one on MTV, see that big 'ol statue at the front of the church?  They had to make that out of marble!    Men who admit that a six month pregnant woman turns them on are considered pervs.  And baby....there ain't nothing sexy about hemorrhoids.


The last trimester, that is one that really puts you over the edge.  If someone offered to make you a thong bikini at that point?  You would strangle them with it.  "Sex???  That's what got me into this mess in the first place.  I feel like an elephant, I think your son/daughter to be has just kicked a rib out and if you even think of touching me I swear I will tear your manhood off buddy. " were common rants in my pregnancy's.


You can keep yourself up when  your pregnant but it's hard to shave your legs when you haven't seen them in six months.


A few weeks before the birth, during the "gain a pound a week" phase, there is no more wiggling, there is only the waddling.

  There are thousands of written words about how you feel during the birth but 'horny' has never been included in any of them that I've read.


After the birth.  See this is when they really crank up the propaganda machine to young mothers.  First of all; the girls think "once the baby comes out at least my stomach will be a little smaller right away." Gotcha!  It doesn't, you still have the swelling, the lumps and it takes time for the muscle and skin to recover and each baby takes longer and longer until the belly skin just gives up and lies there like a deflated balloon.  Yes Virginia, you will have to wear your maternity clothes home from the hospital.


New mothers marvel, "Man my boobs are HUGE.  Hubby's will sit enviously watching the child breastfeed.  Then those sexy sisters start leaking on you and you have to wear loose shirts to cover the breastpad outlines and leak marks.  After breastfeeding for two days you will have callus's on your nipples, after six months you will have teeth marks.  Oh did I forget to tell you about the acne that erupts all over your chest? 


Oh and don't just think you're nipples will be the only extra leaking going on.  Post-natal menstrual bleeding can last up to six weeks.  This is just Mother Natures way of making you pay up for the nine months you didn't have to buy tampons.


Wow isn't that sexy?  I also think this is Mother Nature's way of making you think before you have another one.

No matter what, at this point you may not be considered a sexy woman but put that newborn little baby in your arms and you really won't give a damn how you look. 

So back to sexy.  You are now a new mother with a two or three month old baby.  You don't have time to be sexy.  You don't have time to sleep.  You have bags under your eyes that are bigger than your old purse.  (Not bigger than your new purse which is a diaper bag but close.)  Get rid of them by cutting up extra cucumber when you make your toddlers snack or cold teabags or --if you really want them gone-- Preperation H.  You will have a tube honey.  I've always wondered why they don't put it in the Welcome Wagon baby basket.

You can't put on your makeup because you are so tired, you can't draw a straight line and how can you be sexy when you have baby puke dripping down your back?  You won't have to turn down hubby for sex because even if you two do manage to run off to a small B & B for a romantic weekend while the Gramma's are looking after the baby, you still will have to haul out the breast pump every three hours and in all reality, five minutes after you check in you will both be asleep.

This is where the crux is.  When you're kids are toddlers.  This is where you will become the attractive, nice looking soccer mom or the Foxy Momma!  The choices you make in the here and now will define you for the rest of your life.

You don't have wear tight clothes to be sexy.  You just have to buy clothes that show off the best of your features.  Any man will tell you that sometimes it's not what you see that gets them going, it's what they imagine they can see.  Simply choosing a skirt over jeans, choosing a nice sweater over a sweatshirt, these choices lead to "classy sexy."

  You can wear jeans --but not the type that give you camel toe for goodness sake-- when you find a pair of well fitting jeans that make your butt look like it spends it's days on a stairmaster--buy six pair.

Choose colours and patterns that hide stains well and keep an extra shirt in the car along with the baby wipes, spare tire or emergency road kit.

One other thing I've noticed on the clothes front, tailored clothes make a woman look much more together and sensual than cheap or loose clothes.  You don't have to spend hundreds of dollars to do this or know how to design and sew your own clothes.  Buy the best you can afford and get it fitted by a seamstress.

Choose colours that compliment you and don't be afraid to ask any woman in a store if this shirt is a good colour for you, (not the sales associates.)  Most women cannot get out to go shopping with friends very often due to playdate conflicts but I've met many women who would be complimented by you asking their advice.  They will stop and give you an answer.  A lot of women enjoy giving advice to each other on clothes and anything else they can think of.  Try to pick someone who's style you want to emulate.

This often leads to friendships or at least you got to talk to someone over three feet tall.

(But don't stop me because you will be in for a two hour makeover.  I have a friend that is always afraid I'm going to whip out my eyelash curler and tweezers at lunch.)

Next go to the local make up counter and ask them to show you how to put on your daily make-up in seven minutes.   Once an esthetician has given you her advice, find your local Avon lady.  She will come to the house.  

You say you can't afford seven minutes in the morning and that you haven't seen your bathroom since your daughter or son discovered their reflection? 
No woman needs makeup to look sexy!!.  She just needs to have good, moisturized skin, her eyebrows should suit her, she should curl her lashes with an eyelash curler so she won't need mascara, her teeth should be white.  Choose a moisturizer with a tint or bronzer.  Use the baby petroleum on your lips, heck use the baby's lotion on you.  When you finish oiling up baby, rub the rest into your own skin.

Tanned women are considered sexy but not the leather looking ones, they look hard.  You have an opportunity every day to keep your tan; take your kids outside.  Be reasonable about it, skin cancer is never sexy but instead of sitting on the park bench and watching your kids there is a million opportunities for a workout when you take your kids outside.  You can play the, "One more time please, just five minutes" game for your cardio.  You can play, "Spin me around till I puke Mommy," game for your strength training.  You can get all the yoga you need just getting the Lego out from under the couch.

Get yourself one of those bikes with a trailer and take them an extra mile or two.  Both of you will be so happy and healthy and yes you will be tired and exhausted when you get home but the more you do, the more you can.  Sooner or later you will have earned the right to wear lycra biking shorts and you will be hauling out your "skinny time of the month" jeans and you will be smoking!

(Smoking hot I mean, not smoking cigarettes because even though I smoke, even I have to agree that there is really isn't much sexy about smelling like an ashtray, yellow teeth and extra wrinkles.)

Now this is where young mothers need to take notes.  Take time for yourself at least two hours a week!  You can do it.  Don't tell me you have no time for yourself.  If you are married then you make a deal with Hubby.  "If you put the kids to bed, take them out to the park etc...you will then have a happy, hot wife who feels sexy and may be more inclined to practice making new babies."  Most men will agree in a shot! 

(If Hubby comes back with, "What are you dressing up for?  Who are you trying to impress?  Either get him into therapy for his low self esteem or pack your bags that minute.  Men who give their women a hard time about wanting to look good have major self-esteem issues and it never ends well.  If he only asks once answer him honestly,  "Me and you.  Me so I will feel sexy and gorgeous and you because as a woman if I feel sexy, sex follows."

Here's another crux in the road.  When you feel sexy and are comfortable with your body, you won't be afraid to tell Hubby all the places he should rub, massage or vibrate to get your motor going.  You will enjoy the submarine race much more when you know your bikini line isn't at your knees.  Speak up~!  The man has seen you push something the size of a football out of a hole the size of a grape and he's still back for more!  You put the work into making it look good, reap the reward!.  A sexually satisfied woman is sexy!

If you are a single mom, you will have to break up the two hours into ten minute nightly intervals but honey you do have the time, whether you have the energy or not is another story.

You take ten minutes for a shower and shave, you take another ten to pluck your eyebrows, the next ten for conditioning or colouring your hair and spend the next hour and half just relaxing with a face mask, you do you your nails in front of the TV, you moisturize any part of your skin that you can reach.  Better yet, get hubby to moisturize the parts you can't when he comes home. 

You will have to get your selective blindness out for this.  You will not see the piles of dishes or laundry, you will not notice the five milion toys on the living room floor that need to be picked up.  You will see only the box under the bed where you keep your secret extra towels (because no one with kids can keep up with clean towels no matter how many you buy. I've bought enough towels in my lifetime to blanket Cuba and still, when I want to take a shower I find that the kids have used every towel in the house and they are all on the bedroom floors.) 

In this box under the bed you will keep the expensive shampoo, the perfume, the bath bubbles, the make up.  A locked fishing box is best because once your daughter turns twelve, kiss the make up goodbye.

There are tons of 'just got out of bed' sexy hair looks for women that don't take a lot of time or products to keep up. Find the best hairdresser you can afford and get a simple but attractive cut.  Never get a bob.  Many women are beautiful with a bob but let's face it, men like long hair.  If you really do look better with short hair then great but never get shoulder length hair.  That is the soccer mom badge.

The most important thing is for you to feel sexy at the end of it all.  For you to look in the mirror and not see the stretch marks or the saggy boobs.  In fact, never look in the mirror naked.  Put on the sexiest underwear you have, always wear at least a one inch heel (Avoid the kitten heel, go for the jazz dance shoe heel, lots of support)  or if you are a curvy girl, put on the "suck it in and up and put it where it will look good" girdle.  Tilt the mirror so you look taller in the mirror.  Like my Gramma always says, "I ain't overweight, I'm undertall."

Oh and if you are a generously curved woman, do not tell me you can't be sexy.  You've got a few things that smaller woman don't usually have.  Boobs!!  If you get a good bra with good support and nice necklines, if you use the "suck the tummy fat into the cups" slimmers then you have a weapon in your arsenal that we "fried-egg" girls pay plastic surgeons thousands of dollars for.  Believe you me, women who have a good upstanding set of girls never have men looking at their tummy rolls.  Buy empire waist tops and sweaters.  (Those are the ones with seams under the boobs.)  Do NOT buy sweaters that have elastics at the bottom.  Do not buy any top that is a-line.  You want to have as many seams and darts on the bust as you can and not too much bulk on the waist.  Wear a skirt if you can but if you must wear pants when you get to the weight where your thighs rub together; consider yoga pants instead of poly-stretchy.  Lycra is for wearing under your clothes to keep things from falling out, rubbing together or jiggling. 

Do not wear any pair of pants that have writing across the butt.  Even Shakira and Jay Lo look like hookers with 'Hot Stuff' written across their butt.  You are not a billboard. 

Speaking of perfume; due to the fact that there are people out there with major allergies, please do not load on the perfume.  Suffocating people to death is not sexy.  Choose an oil that smells like food.  I'm not kidding.  I wear this vannila body oil from the Body Shop and men have stopped me in elevators to compliment me on it and ask what it is so they can buy it for their wives.  Mind you, that's how I found out about it.  My hubby was working with a girl who wore it and came home and told me, "Hilary smelled so good today.  You should buy this perfume."

  I'm not sure why but men are really attracted to food smelling women?  My Gramma told me during the Depression the women would put a bit of vannila extract behind their ears instead of perfume.  And here I've been buying $100.00/ounce stuff when I could just go to the kitchen.  Go figure?


(Of course then I hit him for smelling other women and promptly went out and bought six bottles.  If my redneck, mountain man is noticing perfume and asking about it???? )

The best thing you can wear to be sexy~ Confidence and a smile. 

When you feel confident, you look sexy.  It doesn't matter if there is peanut butter down your bra, if you weigh in with the small elephants, if you have fried eggs for boobs, if you believe: they will.

My hubby once told me that there was this moment when I was pregnant with my daughter that he still remembers thinking, "My God I won the lottery."  We were at a wedding and I was wearing a dress that needed a slip.  I only had a strapless slip.  While the service was going I could feel it rolling down.  I had two choices, I could get red and embarrassed and grab it through my dress and run for the bathroom to pull it up or I could let it slide down to the floor and kick it under the bench.  There were a few people who couldn't get out of the pew until we moved so outwaiting everyone wasn't an option.

So that's what I did, I stood up, gave a wiggle, let it drop and kicked it under the pew.  An older man was behind me and I was really worried he was going to pick it up and offer it back like a knight with a handkercheif but he just gave me a nod with a twinkle in his eye and a charming smile.  I put my chin up, winked back and walked out of the church.  Then sent Hubby back to get it. 

Remember the picture of Princess Diana in the skirt?  You can't tell me that she didn't look sexy.  She is considered one of the classiest, sexy women of all time.  Bet you she had peanut butter down her bra a time or two!

Now that is sexy!


PS when you and hubby are enjoying that well earned submarine race, get one of those doorbells with bells like they have in old fashioned stores for your door--an the early warning of kids about to enter the room.
  
PSS  Since you take so much time and effort with how you look you can blackmail Hubby into making an effort on his part for you!


*(morning sickness is misnamed.  I was sick every afternoon at three like clockwork.)

Now We Are Six

March 09

When I was 6 years old I was going to grow up, be the perfect mommy who stayed at home and baked cookies, with maybe a part-time job to have my own pocket money. 

(Note:  This was the 60's in CANADA.  Women didn't emancipate here until the 1970's since we always let the Americans do things first so we could see if we would look really stupid trying them.)

When I was six I was never going to shave my legs, wear make-up or tight clothes just to be a conformist to a man's ideal of "woman". 

(Note:  But I was going to shave my armpits because ew-w-w-w-w)

When I was six I was never going to tell my children, "No."  I was going to let them decide their bedtime, what to wear, when to come home and what to eat.

When I was six I was going to play my music as loud as I wanted.

When I was six I was going to eat all the chocolate and ice cream I wanted.

Hmmmm....

I'm a mom who has to have a job to help my family have food money. 

I have to bake 600 cookies a month for various club bake sales.

I haven't had time to shave my legs in two weeks or access to the bathroom for more than three minutes without some kid knocking at the door asking, "How long are you going to be in there?"

My 16 yr old daughter keeps borrowing my make-up and losing it.

At my age, tight clothes laugh at me as they turn into torture devices designed to cut the circulation to my legs.

My son now has a "wife" and child so, Who am I to give him a curfew?

My daughter belongs to a roving band of teenagers who migrate from sleepover to sleepover so I see her about 20 minutes a week, just long enough to hand her money and vitamins.  The vitamins I find stuffed down the couch or stuck to her pizza dishes.

I have to have my music loud because I have calluses on my eardrums from my kids music.

I just get so frustrated with all of it that I just raid the kitchen for comfort food-----ice cream and chocolate.

Well.....

Who says you can't live out your childhood dreams????

(Note:  But I still do demand time to shave the armpits because, e-w-w-w-w-w)