I'm Back.

Didn't Brittany Spears totally say that once? I'm pretty sure she used the female pronoun for dogs shortly after, but I can't really remember, seeing as how she wasn't in the most sound mind circa 2007. Don't get me wrong...I've had my share of meltdowns, but I haven't yet gotten to the #bashacarwindowwithaumbrellathenshavemyheadlikealunatic situation.

Is there an award for the longest hashtag ever? 

There sure as hell should be. That's for sure. 

Anytick, My kids have started getting into organized sports. Which is a pretty tough thing for someone as unorganized as myself. This week we felt like spending a ton of money on something that our kids won't remember, so we decided to sign them up for a soccer camp with real live British soccer guys. It took some coercing, but the first time we heard the Brits say "Squosh the TOM-AH-TOES" instead of trapping the ball, well, we were sold.

Because hello... accents.

Unfortunately, I'm sad to report that NONE of the instructors look like David Beckham, Jude Law or Prince Harry (lucky for my husband) more like if Ed Sheeren was ten. Is it just me or is everyone looking unusually young?! Oh well, the accents totally make up for everything. Even my hubs swooned.

But the HANDS DOWN cutest thing I've ever seen,  was my Elliot, struggling to keep up with the 5 year olds (he's 3) and lighting up like a Christmas Tree when he got the "star of the day" award. That middle boy, he sure smiles with his whole face. I love that spirit in that tiny fireball and someday he will finally grow and be a fantastic athlete, because he tries and succeeds in keeping up with the big kids now. I think that's what they call grit and determination? I'm not sure, I'm pretty un-athletic myself. Either way, it would make a great beginning to an ESPN 30 for 30 movie. Or at least a Netflix documentary or something.

Speaking of athletic, Theo has come so far from waving and yelling "high mom" every time he passes the bleachers (mind you is about 1000 times) and now is super serious about sports. He assured me that he wants to play professional soccer and be a news reporter. So it looks like we may have a few more passes by the bleachers in our future. Although I do get a little giddy when he acknowledges me in public as those days will soon be over. But I'm not like other mom's...I'm a cool mom. 

Oh and if you're wondering who has two thumbs and does NOT fit in at Dick's Sporting Goods it's this girl. I mean, I own yoga pants, but that's about as far as it goes. All of the Under Armour, and Nike T-shirts with the Haikus' about living to run, just look weird on me. Don't get me wrong, I love the style and even browsed because as a Dance Teacher I wear somewhatofa "athletic" motif, but I'm afraid that if I wear anything that could even remotely suggest that I like running or even walking at a brisk pace,  that I'll find myself in some socially pressured running situation (See: making new friends in a new city and slightly exaggerating my strengths and hobbies) and dissolve into an embarrassing puddle of dry heaves.

So I'll just stick to my leggings, v-necks and flip flops, because no outfit says "I don't enjoy running" more than a V-neck (see: Boobs) and flip flops (see: twisted ankles). Note: This outfit also speaks volumes to how unmotivated I am to look nice, and sometimes the stains really bring the "I'm a mom slash human napkin" look all together.

Eat that "what not to wear". My outfit says things. Not good things, but you all get the idea.

Rats, maybe I do need professional style help.

But I'm a cool mom...


In the Rain.

Welp, here in good ole' Ohio it's been nothing but rain for quite a bit. It's quite maddening really, seeing as how we were just finally able to start to jump in a freaking swimming pool without convulsing. 

Also, I've started freckling up real good, so that means that the sunburn  days are near. Screw you tan folk. I mean, I know that I burn through car windows and peel a fine white color right after said sunburn, but dammit I can love the sun as much as the next person right? 

Please don't share this with my dermatologist...

Speaking of doctors, why is it that we parents neglect our own health care? Is it because of money? Or laziness? Or is it because the odds of someone putting a germ ridden sign in pen in their mouth,  resulting in an entire night of barfing and no sleep for momma,  too high? Either way, I don't take the gamble. Because barfing + more laundry= no sleep, and I'm sorry, no strep  throat or gallbladder issues are that important...besides, theres essential oils and Pinterest for those things. Thank gosh for the internet, what did people do before it! 

As you can see, there seems to be a lull in the old blog here. Partially because my children suck all of my energy like parasites (I'm typing that with the most love possible. I mean it.) and partially because I'm working on SO MANY THINGS (isn't that what we all say to keep from saying what we are really doing) and frankly, I just don't have the time. BUT I ain't giving' up on this place because 1)It's mine. 2) Because if Rick Astley wasn't going to give anything up neither am I. and 3) Because I REFUSE to give my arch-nemisis my blog domain (yes I'm talking to you motocross rider Jesse Laine, that I've never met) because we can all have our little corner of the internet and hold hands and sing kumbyya. 

Speaking of Kumbyya and other awesomely camp-y things, you all probably know that I help out with Camp Throwback. It keeps me super busy, too busy to in fact, update my Camp Throwback button on my sidebar, and it's totally fun. CNN said so too today. So that was neat. But let's not get it twisted. They mentioned other camps, and the video at the top, while it's totally rad...is not our camp. So that was confusing for almost everyone. Myself included. Trust me though, ours is way better.

And I NEVER know how to end these things. so I'll just do it.

 Over and out. 



Lashes for dayysssss

Right Eye only...I wanted natural results and this balanced out my left lazy eye with regular mascara so...PROGRESS

From this point on I promise to only  talk about products that I really and truly believe in. I won't sell my soul for a free anything and I won't encourage you to seek out just any old product. This product is something that I truly believe in and I really want to share it with you. 

Okay. So I know that I'm pretty late on the uptake with this whole mascara game, but truthfully I was a little skeeved out by the whole Younique Fiberlash Mascara situation. I mean, who wouldn't want super long and full lashes without paying the hefty price of extensions right? Well, I'm here to tell you that the thought of having big giant spiders on my eyes really wasn't something that I thought would accentuate my features (a la lazy eye), so of course, I was extremely hesitant to every try it, because almost all reviews I saw of the stuff were on beautiful girls with flawless tan skin, naturally dark eyebrows and fantastic features. Basically, I believed that this was the final step to becoming a Kardashian and my alabaster skin, freckles and transparent eyelashes and eyebrows shuddered at the thought, because there is no worse look than crazy cakey eyelashes on pale ladies...televangelism has taught us all this life lesson (I'm looking at you,  Tammy Faye).  

But then my girl Becky was all like "Yolo it's time to live la vida loca" so I threw all caution to the wind and took a leap of faith, because YES my mascara game is that serious.

Now I'm not going to tell you that it changed my life, cured cancer, or found Jimmy Hoffa. It took me a slight learning curve, and a few You Tube tutorials but I did it. And you know what?

I love it.

Don't get me wrong, we are still totally in the honeymoon phase, but I've really enjoyed the way that it perfectly goes on smooth every time and it stays all day long.  My biggest fear was that it would be too much, especially for my lazy girl makeup routine (brows, lashes and lips) but I was pleasantly surprised that it didn't overpower my face. Also, I've heard that some people complain that the fibers don't stay put but using the transplanting gel after every coat really holds them in place, so that was never an issue for me. I definitely think it's a keeper.  Plus, It comes in a really cool carrying case, which makes me feel extra fancy. I also think that it's really neat that you can layer it as many times as you want... from parent pickup line to date night with the hubs, you can use one product to get a ton of different looks. And ya'll know how I likes me a product that can multi-task.

Plus pretty eyelashes are an amazing accessory to my Two of a Kind- esque hair clip...Eat your heart out late 90's Mary Kate and Ashley.                          

And yes, I was totally channeling my inner American Apparel face for this pasty, freckly photoshoot. What can I say? Pale girls don't really have very many models to channel these days. 

Do you want to try Younique 3D Fiber Lash Mascara? Check out www.omgbeckylashes.com for more info, and you may just find Jimmy Hoffa. 


Gooses, Geeses.

I want a goose that lays Gold eggs for Easter...

When I was a little girl I used to always tell my mom that I wanted this or that, usually because I had seen a commercial, but mostly because I was bored. She used to look at me and tell me "you just have a case of the wants."

And she was right. I didn't want just anything, I wanted all the things. I was a modern day Veruca. Except my wants weren't full of silly gold egg laying geeses...no my want list was full of puppy (kitty, pony, bunny...man did they bank off that franchise) Suprises, Water Babies and baby Alive. And when I got those things I wanted more.

This has carried through adulthood. Just now instead of wanting Lisa Frank stickers and Littlest Pet shop toys I want fabulous clothing, a perfect house and a backyard garden fit for a farmer. Basically, I yern for my inspiration boards to spring to life and make me "happy",even though I know that true happiness doesn't come from material things.

I know this.

 In fact,I am chicken pecking the keyboard AS WE SPEAK because I channeled my inner Kardashian and got acrylic nails last week. And yes, in case you were wondering, I  did debate going with pointed nails because Kylie Jenner, but then I actually took a moment to realize that I wouldn't look as rad as the youngest Kardashian/Jenner heir...but  I would instead look like the crazy lady in the faded yoga pants with a grown out pixie (not even half as cool as Kris Jenner, might I add) driving the beat up 2002 Honda Odyssey van with the scratch down the side from that time the hubs didn't see the fire hydrant at the pumpkin patch...I'm pretty sure they would have upped my creep factor to a million.

But I do these things anyway. 

Why? Maybe because I think that this last thing will be "the thing". You know, the thing that makes me happy. That whole can't eat, can't sleep...(insert it takes two quote here). The thing that makes me feel worthy of this life that I lead. The thing that tops the whipped cream. The cherry. I'm always looking for the cherry and also eagle eye cherry because I loved that "save tonight" song but that's neither here nor there...

The truth of the matter is that my life as a mother is an amazing journey. It's the best rollercoaster in the theme park, with the highest puke volume. Regardless, it's the ride I always wanted to take. This is my dream, and I'm so blessed to be living it. It's just that Motherhood can be a lonely gig sometimes. It's a weird feeling to have children draped on my shoulders, staring with direct eye contact while I  use the bathroom, and literally latched on my body 24 hours a day all while feeling so alone. Partially because kids and toddlers just can't discuss the pressing questions about the  Real Housewives of Beverly Hills like I need them to ( did Brandi get more fillers at the reunion? Did Kyle get veneers?), but also because the person that I was before is nothing but a former skinnier shell of what I have become. And even though I tried with all of my heart not to lose myself, I changed because creating these beautiful humans changes a person. It just does. It's something that my non-parent friends can't relate to yet, and my friends who are parents are so caught up in their own children and lives that they are too busy to be a part of mine. And that's okay. It's all a part of life.

However, it's hard to not want more. That's the funniest thing about perfection, you can never achieve it. And freaking Pinterest is going to kill all of us trying.

I want a party with room fulls of laughter

But we all keep trying.

10,000 tons of Ice Cream

Because more will make us happy right?

Well... maybe the ice cream part for a little bit... but then I would just get mad at the weight and start a weight loss Pinterest board AND I HATE FREAKING GRANOLA. So even that would be a bust.
Sigh, Oh well. Maybe someday I'll stop sounding like a lonely loser and begging you all to please, please,  PLEASE  be my friend.

Or I'll just fast forward to the best part of the movie, throw my wants down the egg-decator and choose to live happily ever after.


I sold out to the blog world and this is what happened.

Testing....Testing...is this thing on?

Whew. Now that we got that out of the way, I'm raring to go. Let me tell you a little bit about why I was gone for so long. 

My blog well ran dry ya'll...and I lost control of my direction.

See, one of the things that no one tells you about when you start a blog, is that if you really want to make it a career or life, then you have to not only write, but you have to build your brand. Now, as someone that got into this because I love to write, this was news to me. In fact, when I started this space (formerly known as Random Blog Drama) I had no idea that there was even a career path devoted to this sort of thing, I was a little fish in a very big pond, and instead of actually being confident in myself and keeping it fun, I sold myself out for some moolah, and free stuff...Because in my mind, that stuff was validation. Even though it wasn't. It was just static. It was just noise. And it became a burden. A very heavy one at that.

Suddenly I was consumed with the need to be a  "successful" blogger, and somehow... the writing, the part that I actually and genuinely loved...fell to the wayside  to a sea of review blogging, news programs and sponsored posts.And while I'm very thankful for those opportunities, they were very short lived, because just like my pre-baby jeans it just didn't fit.

None of those supposed "validations" made my heart sing like writing always had.

I let people get in my ear. I allowed myself to listen to the whispers of those around me questioning why I spent so much time on something that didn't generate profit. I began to care about what people thought about me. I started to let people take this place that I had created, and run me out of it. I became a coward in my own home, and I began dreading the ticking of the clock and the worry that I had ruined the passion I loved most.

Blogging is a weird career. To make money at it, you basically have to 1) be willing to pimp out your children, family, home and personal business to your readers to achieve celebrity. 2) Be an extremely talented writer and a social media phenomenon, or 3) Create your blog as a brand that can branch out into other areas such as books and other major online publications.

I know that I'm no Ernest Hemingway. I type how I talk, my grammar blows and my punctuation makes 1st graders look like Einstein. I use way too many commas (more is more right?), overuse the italicize feature,  and I ramble on and on and on and on...my college English professors are hiding their heads in the sand right about now

But the bottom line is that I love to write, and hopefully through the words vomited in this blog, you can feel the words landing on this paper, telling the stories of my heart (and of my clumsiness).

I sold my soul to the moving machine of the blog world.

And I failed.

But I'm still here.

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