Workouts are a bitch.
Time is never on your side.
Television and couch potatoitis sucks the life out of you.
But this girl has begun to Kickstart her life in the ass… And the normal guy has pumped me up.
I’m a beachbody coach who’s about to make myself workout daily, s
top eating cookies eat better, and start lookin sexy on the daily.
So the first step shall begin:
It puts the sports bar on…
Order PiYo and get a team together (join me! Just message me for the details!)
But hey, put the bra on first because, let’s face it, that’s the hardest part in the morning – not letting your girls relax anymore.
I am a ‘learn something new’ kind of gal.
The weirder the better. So when that normal guy asked me to open a banana I gave him a weird look and obliged.
He then flat out told me I was wrong.
Umm, you can’t open a banana wrong, fool.
He showed me a ‘different’ way.
Then this happened: ……….
That’s right. I had no words for this badassery.
Turns out since I was a wee pup I’ve been stupidly trying to open a banana with difficulty.
Correction. My ass used a knife to cut off the top so I could tear in to the top to reach this ridiculous fruit.
So what did I learn?
That normal guy is still a jerk for telling me I’m wrong.
I will now eat bananas differently.
I have a new appreciation for weirdos on you tube who show us semi-cool things.
Here’s your something new… Pass it on: Peel a Banana like a Badass
Thoughts during an important phone call conversation SHOULD be what you’ll say next. Yes, this is mostly the case for me… however there are a few extra bits that take over my brain and I focus on them. Thank God as women we can multi-task… and men think they do (only kidding, but not really).
Recent events left me feeling insecure about my clothing choices.
the radio interview was supposed to begin promptly. It did not. No one is taking blame here (because I don’t like taking blame)… it just happened.
When we were finally connected my business partner and I were ready to take on the world! From our homes. With a glass of wine, or a kitten on our lap. My business partner had the wine and she was probably lounging in the living room or some place normal like the kitchen. I was in my bed. Under the covers. With a cat settled on my lap.
Was I nervous? No… Was I preoccupied? Absolutely.
This interview was happening late at night. My hair was a mess from work and travel. I had tried to change into my pajamas after putting my little girl down to sleep but only managed half way. That’s right folks… I didn’t have my pants. And it’s all I could focus on.
Why am I not wearing pants? Will they notice? Does my voice sound different without pants on?
Once I convinced myself I sounded no different I moved on to the following thoughts:
1. Keep my cat quiet. I don’t want her meowing and then a listener hearing and not buying our book beacuse they don’t like cats.
2. Do I sound like a man?
3. I really wish I had pants. My legs are cold – even under the sheets.
4. Thank goodness I at least had time to put a top on.
5. Why did I pick a bean out of my hand in my dream last night? Did it have magical powers? Is that why it hurt like hell?
So for those of you who didn’t see me freaking this past weekend – Our book hit the bestseller list in Parenting, Family Relationships, and Motherhood. We are beyond excited. 20% of book proceeds go to the Gabriel Network to help women in crisis pregnancies. We’d love your contribution. Buy our book here…. New Life Within on Amazon
Enough shameless plugging. More to the facts on what happens after you hear this amazing news.
1. Dance with your newborn baby. Then each kitty. Then that normal guy. Then have them all stare, unpleased, at you while you dance by yourself.
2. Text everyone you know (even those who’ve lost touch with).
3. Retell everyone on every social media site.
4. Tell yourself you still need to get dressed for the day. And shower. And comb that hair – it looks cray-cray and bestsellers wake up looking refreshed EVERY MORNING so this is unacceptable.
5. Bake cookies for neighbors, co-workers, parties, and possibly even the dead (because you always overbake).
6. Celebrate with a $5 pizza (bestsellers aren’t all rich, ya know).
7. Drink champagne by yourself.
8. Go back to the computer and work on your next project.
1. Hot cocoa isn’t delicious without peppermint schnapps.
2. Coffee isn’t the same without a little Bailey’s.
3. Egg Nog isn’t Egg Nog without, well, any kind of liquor.
4. And family time isn’t complete without one or ALL of the above.
Your only hope of surviving the holidays is to over-pour a few too many times to that one unsuspecting family member. You know the one; can’t keep quiet, always lets the cat out of the bag, told your family that your brother was gay in front of his fiance last year. Yup… that one. Time to get her back… and then give them a nickname for life.
Top five stripper names (I made up):
3. Holly Get Lucky
5. Santa’s Sleigh Ride
Feel free to find the right one for your family. We are all creative when the alcohol is flowing and the craziness is going.
Happy Holidays People. Happy Freakin’ Holidays.
This morning I had to give that normal guy some pretty bad news.
ME: I forgot to pick up rolls? How could I? That’s a staple for Thanksgiving!
TNG: Yeah, that’s a pretty big mess up. How can I stand being married to someone who forgets ROLLS!!
ME: I know. I’m ashamed. Our marriage is clearly a sham.
TNG: Clearly, built on lies and deceit.
ME: Despite my ability to be a good wife you are an excellent husband. The bread defeats me once again.
TNG: I am willing to look past the horrible event and move on… I… Forgive… You.
ME: I don’t deserve your forgiveness but will gladly take it *grabs it before he changes his mind*
End Result: This colossal mistake will be handled and Breadtopia will resume at our house. I apologize for anyone I frightened with this mess up. Hopefully you don’t make the same mistake. You have a few days to get out there and buy ALL THE RIGHT THANKSGIVING STAPLES.
War wound – the boob burn
Babies are magical beings. They have a way of screaming and getting whatever they want.
As adults mimicking their mannerisms leads us straight to a psych ward in a straight jacket.
As one of my newly acquired daily activities I was prepping new bottles by following directions. Boiling them in water before fixing one for Blair.
Exhaustion does not prepare you of warn you to be careful. You realize it’s hot water. You do not need to be told to NOT spill it on yourself – however being the tired and not overly cautious person I am – Crap happened.
I’m minding my own business. Waters boiled, bottles perfected and ready to be served room temp. All I have to do is retrieve them.
I look around for my protector. The end of a wooden spoon catches my eye – perfect! I can avoid burning the shit out my hands and get them dry with ease.
The wooden spoon handle makes contact with the inside of the bottle. I lift – not so carefully – thinking I have just the right angle to perfect my craft.
Then S-L-O-W-M-O-T-I-O-N hits as the bottle drops back into the water creating a massive tsunami that lands on the left side of my shirt. BAM it burns.
As a psycho I pull my shirt over my head and run to complain to that normal guy that it hurt like a bitch.
He laughs and says ‘Why would you do that to your boob?’
He also wises up and tells me to slap aloe Vera on it. And boy did I.
Today I have a war wound – three perfect circles on my First Class A cup. No, I will not so pictures – this is not a porn story.