I am still here and I am still alive

Believe it or not! I actually went into 2014 with a REALLY awesome and upbeat attitude….and then WHAM!!!!!!!

I’ve been swamped with just life in general.  The latest….well I’ll have TONS of time to get back on the writing for fun starting Feb 1st.  It appears that budgets have been cut and I’m one of about 10 people that get cut – well, 10 if you count some of the people in December.  So back on the job hunt I will be!  That was very Yoda-ish.

More later, but wanted to let some people who actually have missed me know that I’m still alive and kicking!  Oh and I just renewed my domain, so there’s THAT too.

 

The Holiday Letter I Would Love to REALLY Write

I really do enjoy receiving everyone’s holiday cards/letters, at least most of the time. I only got one realistic “year in review” letter in which this friend actually described one or two of his/her challenges for the year.  It was quite refreshing to get this one scattered within the throngs of “My kids are perfect, we are in church 4 out of 7 days of the week, my kid is the star athlete and my life if beyond awesome” letter.  I don’t really write those kinds of annual letters, but it did get me thinking…I’d love to send a letter like the below some time:

Note: this is entirely fiction – totally made up – and was intended to be flippant for those of you who don’t normally read my blog . I cuss in there too, so you’ve been warned.

 

Dear People We Only Mail Something To Once A Year (if you are lucky to have made our list):

Merry Christmas!  Happy Thanksgivingkah! Happy Kwanza!  Happy Festivus.  That is the one we’ve decide to observe this year and henceforth are airing our grievances.  We have a gorgeous pole in the middle of our living room. It’s been tough to keep Grandma off of that pole though.

Festivus-Logo

The year started with Bob getting pulled over at 12:05am on New Year’s Day. We had only made it down the driveway of the party we were attending.  Things didn’t go very well as he told the officer to, “Go Fuck himself” when he was asked to walk the sobriety test line. Fast forward to a few hours later and I’m bailing his beat up ass out of jail. I believe the report said something along the lines of “massive quantities of alcohol in system- above legal limit,  which lead to verbal abuse of officers as well as an attempt to take a swing.  We say attempt as he couldn’t see well enough to even come close to hitting an officer, but defendant did break his wrist upon hitting the police cruiser. Note: See report of damage to vehicle.”  Off to the ER we go. Surgery needed. There were multiple breaks and screws to be inserted, but this couldn’t happen until the swelling went down. Needless to say, the next few days were NOT fun to be around Bob. Thank GAWD for the drugs he got for pain.  I used them to tolerate his whining.  I’ve determined that he was in an alcohol and drug induced state for at least the first 4-6 weeks of the new year. He lost  his license and was required to do 9 months of community service. I’ll have to admit, it was a little fun to drive by him picking up trash along the highway. I threw a cup of two out while he was there so he’d have something to do.

The teen. Well, he is failing some class called “Skills for Life”, which I think is something like what used to be Home Economics when I was in school. I’m really not sure since I’m not allow on the school grounds anymore (more on that later). This really worries us for his future.

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Home Ec Way Back When

 

How does one fail a class with that name, or all of his other ones for that matter? He and his pregnant girlfriend had better get their shit together, or this could be REALLY bad. There is no way in hell I’m home schooling his ass or his triplets. He does not do any sports.  He’s a master of Call of Duty Ghost Ops though.

The tween.  He’s actually probably the only semi-sane one in the house.  That’s probably because his hormones haven’t quite kicked in yet, but I know they will soon as he’s starting to get pizza face.  He’s passing everything, so there is that.  He is a master of Mine Craft. He and his brother fight constantly. We finally told them to just kill each other and get it over with. That’s some awesome parenting right there, you know, tough love. I read that on the internet somewhere. He totally sucks at football and his team lost every single game. I blame the Dad that’s the coach.  He really sucks.  He didn’t really appreciate Bob’s coaching suggestions either.  What a dick!  Bob was just trying to help!

I lost 5 different part-time jobs this year so I decided I should throw my hat into the ring of volunteering at school.  This PTA thing isn’t going so well.The women in that group don’t appreciate my use of the work “fuck” as a noun, verb, adjective and every other possible form used in my every day conversation.  I truly have been saying it just for reactions now.  I’ve thrown in a twat waffle and douche canoe a few times too. I don’t think they will ask me to volunteer for the school carnival again. I was forbidden from the school grounds by the principal too. WTF???

We have not be able to find a church that will allow us to return for a 2nd visit. So, we have decided to worship the devil, at least that is what we have decided is our answer if we ever open our front door to anyone for anything. I don’t think the Home Owners Association appreciated the pentagram flag that we put up in the front yard, but we were within size limits DAMMIT! It was a ton of fun to see neighbors drive by slowly and give us the hairy eyeball. I suppose we should have removed the goat from the front yard.  Well, we actually did after we got the snotty letter from the HOA. They also requested that we take the car off of cement blocks that is sitting in front yard too. Hey!  My kid is working on getting it running!  He’s been working on it for 6 years!  Can’t you just give him a chance?  Assholes.

The dog keeps shitting on the floor and eating out of the cat box. I’m seriously ready to reduce our number of pets by at least 4 dogs and 3 cats to get us down to a manageable number. That pot-bellied pig is just too cute to get rid of though. Who knew it was pregnant when we got it?

I haven’t quite been able to get into the holiday spirit this year for some reason.  I’m trying, but it’s just been kind of tough. Thankfully, Bob gets his license back on the 31st!  Happy 2014!

Smooches and middle fingers,

The family from hell

 

We Are All Connected – Not a Funny Post

Today, my heart aches for a lot of people who are hurting. Today marks the 1 year anniversary of losing an amazing lady, far too soon to the ugliness that is breast cancer.  She left behind many friends and family as well as her husband and 3 children.   Like my Aunt (my Aunt passed away 3 years ago at the age of 44 – leaving behind a husband and a 3-year-old), this amazing lady fought like hell for 3 very long years.  It wasn’t meant to be.

ribbon

Do you believe we are all connected in some way?   I do. It’s scary sometimes how freaking small this world is. A personality I had been following on Facebook for a while turned out to be this lady’s BFF.  That was truly spooky, especially because she lives across the country. As I started seeing her post photos on her Facebook page at the same time I knew of this wonderful lady’s passing, it blew my mind away.  We’ve become long distance virtual friends.  I hope to meet her IRL someday.

Today brings back so many emotions of what it was like to be with my Aunt for her last moments. No one ever gets over that. All we can do is remember the wonderful people these women were  and how many lives they touched and continue to touch. We are all better people for having known them.

Hug your loved ones really tight today and be sure they know how much you love them. To borrow the phrase from this woman’s BFF, “Love and Light to You All”   – today and always.

 

We Can’t Let the Ladies Have EVERYTHING!

Well hello! This is one of those posts that if you haven’t read the About Me tab on my blog, you may wanna.

Have you guys and gals read this Smart Bra article? Go read it first, then come back here. Seriously, go.

Welcome back! So if they are going to make a Smart Bra for ladies that tells them not to eat emotionally, shouldn’t they make something for dudes as well? I mean, ladies are emotional beings. Men are sexual beings. At least that’s what the book Men Are From Mars Women Are From Venus says. Therefore, an invention must be born.  Let’s call it the Testicle Tester? or the Jerking Jock? How about the Ball Barometer? Hmmm, I like that one since it measures pressure.  It can tell you when…..wait for it…..wait for it…..a dude is aroused!

Not only will the Ball Barometer gently lift and caress your balls, it can actually detect when a male is thinking about sex!  How’s that, you ask?  There are sensors in just the right place that will go off as soon as the penis starts to go erect.  It too, can help males control urges by announcing “DANGER WILL ROBINISON! DANGER! Step away from the babysitter ”  ever so discreetly into a dude’s ear.

lifesize-lost-in-space-b-9-robot-2

It will then flash up a picture of his Mother-in-law for immediate deflation (or the least erotic photo of his choosing).

Now why the hell would a dude NEED this device? Ah, yes, I can see it’s usefulness in so many different areas. Let’s see, he’s at school or work and is about to give a presentation. Something flips his switch.  The Ball Barometer goes off.  NOT here!  NOT now!!  He’s on a first date, things are getting intense. The Ball Barometer goes off. It IS a first date! Don’t assume he/she’s a slut.   The wind blows in his ear. The Ball Barometer goes off. After all sometimes that’s all it takes. He comes home from work ready to jump his wife’s (or significant other’s) bones after he/she’s been taking care of a 12 month old and a 3-year-old all freaking day long or is working outside the home and now is dealing with the bewitching hours in toddler land.  Ball Barometer goes off.  This is so NOT the time!

There are some issues with this invention though.  Just like with a bra for the ladies, some men discard their tidy whiteys or boxer briefs the minute they get home from work, that is, IF  they wear any at all. Can you say commando? Another issue, isn’t it like every 2 minutes a dude thinks about sex?  Wow! So jacking off can make you go blind and the Ball Barometer could make you go deaf? Sucks to be a dude sometimes.

OMG! What if the Smart Bra and the Ball Barometer meet each other?   DO NOT CROSS THE STREAMS!  I REPEAT, DO NOT CROSS THE STREAMS.

Stay-puft-marshmallow-man

It will be the end of the world as we know it.

Yep, the Smart Bra must be made by men, just like feminine products (remember my commentary on that?). It’s only fair that we women invent something for them!

 

 

A follow up to the Junk post

So I realized that I hadn’t posted about my most recent trip to the massage therapist, so here goes.  It’s not NEARLY as controversial (or some thought entertaining) as my previous post http://batpoopcrazy.com/2013/10/24/omg-please-tell-me-thats-not-your-junk/

Last week, I went to the same therapist I’ve been going to for quite some time. I did think a lot before I went to try to decide how I’d bring it up with him, if needed.  I’d made the decision that if the lotion bottles were an issue, I’d just politely say to him, “Hey, you know what? If that’s the lotion bottles, would you please adjust them a little bit as they are a bit of a distraction?  Thanks!” I really wasn’t even stressed about talking with it about him, mainly because of those of you that gave me suggestions on here and my Facebook page.  You guys/gals rock!  I also took the advice of some of those that posted on here and placed my hands under my hip bones. It turned out that worked really well too!  In addition to that, he changed some of his technique, in a good way,  so there wasn’t ever any question. I wonder if he is one of my readers.  That could be embarrassing. :/ All of that being said, there was not any reason for me to bring it up to him.

I’m a great tipper, so if any of you massage therapists ever need me to “mystery shop” to see how anyone is doing, just let me know. I now have no problem with addressing any “testie” situations. Of course, that would require some travel and that could be cool! I will be travelling to Colorado sometime in Feb/March and I always get a massage while the guys are out skiing. Now any of you in that state may be wondering…….Is this BPC woman I’m working on?   Ha!

Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours tomorrow! If you are traveling, be safe! Enjoy the the dysfunctional family time – at least that’s what it is at my house!

dysfunctional

Acceptance, One of the Hardest Things Ever

I was just thinking to myself yesterday……wow, this has been a good week with the teen.  The Hubs has made it home from work at a decent hour.  We have had our dinner all together most nights. The boy’s have finished their homework. We even had a family game night on a week night. Norman fucking Rockwell.  No yelling and screaming and the teen is actually done what he’s supposed to be doing.  He had an issues with a class and he handled it.  Boom!  We are on our way! Waiting on that family of the year award in the mail.

And then Thursday happened.  I log into the on-line grading system and there it is……a 62 on a test….that he told us was actually going to be today…..that was actually taken on Wednesday.  

If you look back on the last post I wrote, I told you that I’ve been pretty laid back about his grades, that is, until he really fucks one up. Then I will get involved. That’s our deal. He knows it. Therefore, I’m WAY up his ass on 2 classes that he tanked the last grading period.  I told him I’d check the on-line system daily and he would have 24 hours to fix something or find out what happened.  After that 24 hours, I’m sending an email to the teacher.  Well, I didn’t wait on this one since we are about to have Thanksgiving break. Immediate email to the teacher. We trade emails and I figure out what happened.  Bottom line, the kid is so damned unorganized and he’s not using all the tools at his disposal (websites, day planner, etc) to stay straight so he really deserved the grade he got. Honestly, I don’t know that I would’ve either if we had those tools when I was in 9th grade.  The Hubs and I trade emails, texts, phone calls as the Hubs is really wound up again, “He lied to us, blah, blah, blah.”  Here’s the part where I disagreed and Hubs and I are not on the same page and it sucks.

We have these things called “re-tests” in our school district.  I hate these stupid things because there are not any fucking “re-tests” in life or jobs or anything. The Hubs is Ok with retest as it is a chance to have a do-over and improve grades.  ANYWAY, Oscar will retest for this fuck up in December.

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The life of someone with ADHD

A reminder, Oscar has ADHD (Inattentive type) and Dyslexia.  YEARS ago, the Hubs and I went to a seminar about mainly the ADHD. I keep revisiting that seminar. Being organized is the most hellacious  concept to a kid with ADHD – like THE WORST THING EVER.  His brain doesn’t work that way. There is no way the Hubs (with his anal retentive organizational habits) can wrap his own brain around this. Oscar’s  brain totally works in a different way than even mine.  Trying to force my organizational system (I can be anal retentively organized too) on him – doesn’t work. Yelling my organizational system on him – doesn’t work. Trying to force the Hubs’ organizational system on him – has NEVER worked no matter how much he’s tried to scream it into his head. Oscar NEEDS to figure out what works for him. If that means he fails something here and there, then so be it. It’s how kids learn. I’ve been fighting THIS fight with the Hubs since Oscar was diagnosed in 3rd grade.  I really wish he’d let him fail something in elementary or middle school when the grades really didn’t count. Now, every grade counts. I also think there is something else going on in that brain that we have just not figured out. This kid is so much like my older brother. My brother’s an undiagnosed dyslexic, ADD, whatever.  We didn’t have any of the tools that we have today to recognize some of this.  I lived this already, but the Hubs will not let me compare or bring up the similarities with my brother. That part sucks too.

dyslexic

My dyslexic kid would think this is hilarious!

I truly don’t think Oscar blatantly lies.  I think he is so fucking confused sometimes that he just doesn’t know what to do or how to ask for help. I think he thinks one thing in his head and he communicates something totally different and he thinks he’s said/done what he was thinking.  I know that sounds fucked up, but I don’t really know how else to describe it. I really think that is what happened with this particular test/grade. He got WAY confused.  Does he lie sometimes?  Oh Hell Yes! He’s 14.  What 14-year-old doesn’t? This time was different though.

So, I accepted a long time ago that he will have to learn in his own way.  He will have to organize in his own way. It doesn’t mean I haven’t done my own amount of yelling & screaming. The Hubs hasn’t accepted that or let go. It’s beyond frustrating.  I told the Hubs I can’t do the yelling, screaming, accusatory shit anymore with this kid. I’m choosing my battles with him. I’ve now drawn a line in the sand with the Hubs (after re-explaining all of this again and again) and said I can  not be supportive of the yell/scream fest.  I just can’t live that way anymore.  Oscar is not a lazy kid. Gosh he’s smart as whip, and that is the hardest part. We KNOW he has the ability, he just doesn’t have the drive or motivation, or actually its focus. We don’t know what his motivation is.  I’m OK with that. Only he can figure that out.  The Hubs still has not come to that realization.

I also used to think my brother was a pathological liar. I don’t think that anymore since I now have a kid that is a lot like him. It only took me 40+ years to figure that out.  The difference in my brother and my kid is my kid is super intelligent, especially in math.  I don’t say this just because he’s my kid and my brother tormented  me relentlessly all through my childhood.  But my brother, even with his short comings, is a law-abiding, tax paying citizen.  My kid will be too.  I just want my Hubs to accept that too. I know we all want more for our kids, but we can’t do it for them. We just can’t.

So I haven’t played the “30 Days of Thankful” on Facebook all month.  What I will do is say how incredibly thankful I am for this kid. I know some of you are saying , “Whuuuuuuuuuuuuuuut?”  It’s the differences in people who make this world go around. If we were all the same, life sure would be boring.  I accept he’s different from me.  I accept he’s different from Felix.  I accept he’s different from the Hubs. I accept that Oscar’s his own person and brings his own kind of uniqueness to the world.  He will be fine.

Choosing Your Battles With Teens

My teen.is.driving.me.crazy.  I know. Every parent has said this at one time or another, so it’s not a huge surprise that I’m saying this. This is where I long for the toddler days of stuff that I thought was hard back then.  It was, back then. Now, not so much.

What the HELL did I do as a teen that resulted in this kind of payback? I’ve asked my Mom.  I wasn’t the difficult one.  My brother was – or at least that is what she tells me so I’ll continue to talk to her ;) . I will choose to believe that.  Then that begs the question, what the HELL did my husband do that resulted in this kind of payback? Um, a lot. So much he won’t tell me what all he did as a teen.  This is a bit frightening to me.

So on top of the normal teen hormonal over the top bullshit,  my kid has ADHD – inattentive type (and dyslexia).  That’s just a new way of saying he has ADD and doesn’t have the hyper part of it. However, the kid has every.other.aspect of it. Impulse behavior, sequencing issues, inability to concentrate.  He is SEVERELY ADD.  With all the food info I’m reading, I’m guessing it didn’t help that I ate all those ramen noodles while I was preggo with him and now his favorite food in the world is pasta anything. Pasta & Breads are bad for kids with ADHD (among other things). ANYWAY, he is on meds  - please don’t preach to me about being on meds.  We tried other things and the meds have done wonders for him.  I can’t imagine him off of them.  I take that back. I know what he’s like when he’s not on them on occasion and it’s a nightmare.

The Hubs and the teen are at each other’s throats most of the time. In my personal opinion, I think the Hubs needs to choose his battles with him and not be on his ass ALL.THE.TIME.  Pick big things, not little things like him saying he’s taken out the trash when he really hasn’t. That became World War III. My Hub’s opinion of me is that I’m not on the teen’s ass enough.  Well that all changed at  the end of this grading period at school.  It takes a lot for me to go over the edge and get involved.  I’m there. I’ve jumped and am in a pile ‘o shit.

High school has not been kind to any of us.  I’m ready to go lock myself up in a padded cell for the next 3 1/2 years.  I’m not sure how we are gonna make it through this one. If I don’t lock myself up in that cell, I need to lock the teen up in the padded cell for his own protection.  Wait, that means I’d have to home school and I know I would suck at that, so never mind.  Give me the damned padded cell. (and we wonder where he gets his ADD!)

So, he’s had problems with friends, like hanging out with some of the wrong kinds of people who tend to get him in trouble. We aren’t those parents that think our kid can’t do anything wrong.  It’s the opposite. We just assume he’s part of  it, because we can’t seem to get complete information out of him.  Now  yes, part of this is just being a 14 1/2-year-old.  I get that.  But he seems to be even worse since he can’t seem to sequence the course of events and/or leaves out REALLY important information.

This has also carried over to school.  I’ve pretty much let the kid try to figure it out. I’m laid back like that.  The Hubs is a helicopter parent that at this point, I’m assuming is going to college with him. Again, the Hubs thinks I back off too much on this, I don’t care, blah, blah, blah.  My answer to that is he doesn’t need us both hovering over him.  For the love of Pete, the OCD Hubs is more than enough.  My rule, I let the kid try to figure things out on his own, until he fucks up some thing in a big way.  THEN he has forfeited that right to do it on his own.  Emails to teachers commence.

This happened this week. For 3 weeks, he’s been telling us in 2 classes that the “whole class failed the test and the whole class is taking a retest.”  Hmmmmmmmmmmmmm.  2 different classes?  Ok, I suppose that’s a possibility, but not REALLY likely. Both of us tell him to get it figured out, go talk to the teacher, go to tutoring before and/or after school, etc.  The on-line grading page, that we can log into any time we want, mysteriously never gets updated.  Finally, the kid asks me to email the teacher. He doesn’t know WHY his retest grade that he KNOWS he did better on isn’t posted.  That’s about all the info he gave me.  Now, I’ve learned at this point that he isn’t really giving me all the information. Trust me, I’ve been screwed on that by him in the past…..like EVERY time I’ve emailed a teacher. Sigh…………

Here’s how that usually goes – email to the teacher- “Are you kidding me?  You didn’t give my kid X and now his grade is X and why is it you are such an idiot…”  You know that kind of email that every teacher just LOVES to get (bless you teachers for having to put up with asshole parents like us).  And then on top of it (at the Hub’s urging) I’ve cc’d the principal. You parents of high schoolers just crapped your pants on that one, because you know what is about to happen. That type of email usually gets us a face to face conference with the teacher in which we are incredibly enlightened to what Oscar didn’t fill us in on.  We both go in there with hypothetical ammo loaded in our brains and we are loaded for bear, just ready to defend our kid and tell the teacher what a fucking idiot he/she is. And then, the wind is usually taken out of our sails with a massive sucker punch to the gut with information within the first 2 minutes.  We are sitting there staring at the teacher with that deer in the headlights look while our lips are going “blub, blub, blub, blub” – like that robot from the Buck Rogers TV show – Twiki.

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I went WAY back for this visual!

Then we leave and look at each other and say, “WHAT.THE.FUCK! We are going to kill him!” (Hypothetically. We wouldn’t really kill our kid)

So now, when I email it usually is a very polite email like this:  “So Oscar’s understanding is X.  He told us X.  We’d like to verify that information and that he actually did X. Is this correct or has he misunderstood something? Thank you so much for your help”. I usually get a response back that is, “It’s actually Y and Oscar didn’t do Y and this is why Y is his grade.” Then I usually respond back to the teacher saying, “Oh!  Ok!  I think Oscar didn’t give us all the information, so we were just trying to piece it all together. Thanks so much for your help.”

Needless to say, the conversation at home that evening is a helluva lot of fun, on both sides. We explain what the teacher says and he usually responds with that head-tilted, squinty-eyed, blank stare accompanied with “Whuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuut? That can’t be right.”

 

what-hi

My teens favorite vocabulary word

Um yes, my little asshole that I’m ready to throttle.  It is right. We are beating our head against the wall.  He hates us for being on his ass all the time. We explain why and try to show him this is a “learning experience”.  We think we are awesome parents for showing him how/why he could learn from this and do better next time.  He assures us, “Yes, I understand.” We say, “Repeat it back to us.  What did you learn?” He repeats is back to us perfectly.  Hubs cracks open the Jim Beam and I crack open a bottle of wine.  Clink! Hoping it sinks in THIS TIME or we are just drowning our sorrows.

Lather, rinse and repeat and I bet we are here again in another 6-9 weeks. I guarantee it. What are we doing that is SO WRONG?  This is just kid #1. How the hell are we going to make it through another one that will be there in a couple of years???  Suggestions welcome – legal ones.

 

Yep, I’m Weird

I’m trying to do things to better my health. That includes getting off of wheat & gluten, without the support of the Hubs and my kids. Do you know how difficult this is?   I was ok with it when they weren’t giving me a hard time about it. They are giving me a hard time about it now more and more.  It’s also interesting to see peer reactions. Some get it.  Most think I’m just high maintenance and one of “those people” who make ordering at a restaurant like a scene from when Harry Met Sally – not the good scene.  The scene where she orders a salad with this on it, but not that and the dressing on the side, etc.

Over the last few weeks, the Hubs has decided on several different occasions to roll his eyes when I talk about wheat, tell people “It’s just another fad diet she’s doing.  It won’t last”, and last night he gave me tons ‘o shit again.  Grrrr.

I went into this to try to feel better and it’s working. It wasn’t to lose weight or to follow the newest fad diet.   This has been a life change for me and I’m not going back.  I feel better and I clearly have a gluten sensitivity.  However, his comment to me last night, “Well if you feel better, you sure don’t act like it.”   Oh, man.  Was I pissed.  Just because I feel better doesn’t mean I’m going to take my him acting like an asshole and my kids doing the tween/teen things they do that piss me off  like I’m a fucking Stepford wife. I’m not chasing rainbows, crying unicorn tears and farting butterflies.  I’m still a person with feelings & daily challenges and  I still don’t take much shit from people.  I have noticed that it does take a lot more shit flung at me than it used to before I entirely explode. (How’s that for a visual. Gross.)

So it comes down to the fact that he’s never been supportive of my attempts to get healthy – from being pissed when I took boot camp and lost 25lbs to this.  I’m not sure if it’s jealously  that I’m actually doing something or what, but this is getting really old. It makes me angry that my boys are seeing this.  It’s not how I want them to treat their spouse or significant other when something is important to them.

I CAN’T WAIT for my essential oils that I ordered to come in the mail. Talk about thinking I’m weird…..just you wait. This is going to be epic I’m sure.   I need to figure out a way to stop getting pissed at them and just change it into a challenge. Maybe the oils will help. :)  They already think I’ve lost my mind. Remember when he told me, “Please don’t get weird”?  If getting healthy is weird, then challenge accepted!

Hold on to your ass!  I’m about to get even weirder.

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The Experience of a Lifetime

Note: If you have come here to bash the Komen organization, then MOVE THE HELL ALONG.  Breast cancer is not about politics. It doesn’t matter what color your are, if you are pro-choice/pro-life, or if your male or female.  This organization has done so much for awareness, research, and assistance.  It has been so good to many people I know or have known.  I will continue to support Komen until a cure is found.

I think I told you guys that I’ve been involved with the Susan G Komen 3 Day walk for 4 years.  3 years, I’ve walked it.  This year, I volunteered to crew. It was so fun to see it from the other side and I’m already registered to crew for 2014!

So the walk I volunteered for this year was in Dallas.  If you’ve never been involved with something like this, at the very least, go out sometime to be a spectator.  The walkers can use all the support they can get!  They walk 20 miles a day for a total of 60 by the end of day three.  Trust me when I say that it’s not as easy as it sounds.  Think blister covered feet, sore hips/back/knees/feet, pulled hamstrings, etc.  It’s amazing people watching. You will see some of the most boobie creative costumes on walkers, crew, spectators and “walker stalkers” that you’ve ever seen!   Like this guy who could have given Lady GaGa a run for her money. He crossed the finish line in those things!

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DFW Walker

Every year, I try to seek out what I think is the best sign/button/banner.  One year, it was:

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This year, it was a button that said,  “Yes, they’re fake! My other ones tried to KILL me! ” worn by a survivor.  Loved it! 

Besides the funny stuff, it’s the most inspiring thing I’ve ever been a part of. There are survivors walking that are going through chemo.  There are husbands walking with wives.  Sons/daughters walking in memory of their Mom or with their mom, sister, aunt, friend(s). There were even 3 people being pushed in wheel chairs this year. 

We all spend the night out there in pink tents at “camp”. The weather was perfect during the day. It was a little chilly at night, but manageable.  Some people leave to go stay in a hotel. I truly think you are missing out on the experience if you don’t stay in camp.  My random tent mate is a survivor and I’m honored to have had her on my crew team! 

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Pink Camp!

And then there is the Remembrance Tent (s). For the first time ever, I got up the courage to go inside the big tent.  It holds a small tent with DFW on it.  The ones that are on each side of the big tent in the middle are from all of the other cities that a 3 Day walk has happened this year.   I’ve lost an Aunt (she was in her early 40′s), a neighbor (she was in her late 30′s) and others.  This was the first time I was able to go inside that tent and write their names on the smaller tent.

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Remembrance Tents

On the last day, my part of the crew finished early enough to be able to watch a lot of the walkers come in to the finish line. People limped across the finish, covered in blisters.  Some danced across the finish line.  A lot cried as they accomplished such a feat.   I know I cried each time I crossed that finish line as a walker – for many reasons.  The first time, because I did it and my Aunt was there at the finish line, in remission. The very next year, I cried because she was not there to meet at the finish line. She had passed away.  The third year, because my Uncle walked with me and we both cried as we crossed over that finish line.  Then this year, there was the Marine Corp son  that met his Mom at the finish line and escorted her across in his dress blues.  There wasn’t a dry eye in the house.  Heck, I’m tearing up just writing this.

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Closing Ceremony
The flag says, Never give up!

There were 1200 walkers. 375 volunteer crew members. $3.3 Million raised at this event.  The experience was priceless. And I’m doing it again next year. 

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