Monthly Archives: May 2012

On How You KNOW You Are the Mom of a Toddler

1) You get told that you’re using your “mom” voice.

2) You find food in your tank top from when your child threw it at you earlier in the day.

3) Bargaining becomes second nature.

4) You’re only “alone” time is in the ten minute shower you squeeze into the day.

5) You know you’re really brave to take TEN minutes in the shower when your child is creating a vortex of chaos in your absence.

6) You start to enjoy the taste of fruit snacks.

7) The  only foods in your fridge/freezer are fries, chicken nuggets, hot dogs,  and other foods specific to your kid’s tastes.

8) 7:30 a.m. is sleeping in.

9) It’s normal to carry mutliple toys, an extra diaper/pair of underwear, wipes, and mayhap a spare shirt or pair of shoes in your purse at all times.

10) You know all the words to the song “Come on. Vamenos.” and what shows it’s from.



On What I Look Like as an Asian, Old, or Other

In my boredom, I sometimes spend countless hours looking up ridiculous websites on which to entertain myself.   Much like everyone else does.  So, over the coarse of my cyber-roaming, I discovered this website which has since offered me countless hours a few minutes, at least, of entertainment.

You can morph pictures of your self to look old, young, black, Asian, and more.  It is pretty funny, and I spent some time morphing my and my friends’ faces.   Check it out for yourself.  **Please note, this is before braces for me; I tried some with my braces pictures….  it was terrifying.

On the Turnout of My Impromptu Date – Part 2

And I waited.

To my friend I texted:  “We said 8 and then wait by the door in case the other is late.  I’m as close to the door as I can be without looking like a total loser.”

My phone service is terrible  not great.  And I had one picture to go off of, which by the way, he didn’t know I had on my phone.  You see, my friends were just as cautious of my safety as I was.  They wanted to know exact details:  who I was with, his name, what he looked, where I would be, etc.  One friend even required me to keep in contact with her throughout the evening to ensure my safety.  So, I forwarded his picture to four different friends with the details.  The picture I chose was great [for identification purposes because it showed his arm tattoo], unless the person you’re meeting doesn’t look exactly like their picture.  I imagine it was the same way with my picture versus me in real life.

As I said, I arrived EXACTLY on time, which is a phenomenon in and of itself, because I am not punctual.  Either way, I thought for sure he would have beaten me there, because even when I am on time, I am still usually the last to arrive somewhere.  So instead of waiting outside the building, I decided to wait inside.  Honestly, I was scared to wait outside on the city streets with dark approaching while I was, admittedly self-described, looking quite hot.  [Insert snarky laughter here.]

So as I was texting my friend, she asked how I was feeling.  “A little sick with nerves.”  She assured me I’d be fine, and that she had his picture if she needed to call 911, and she could be to the cities “in a snap”.  My response was that I was mostly nervous I was either at the wrong venue, or that I wouldn’t be able to find him at all.

Once inside, first I noticed that the “dress code”  this place was supposed to have, was so not in place.  It was ridiculous that people were wearing GYM SHORTS for goodness sake.   Anyway, I began to look for Mr. Winnipeg.  See, I was unable to communicate with him using Skype or anything else because my phone’s internet was not great.  I was expecting him to be incommunicado anyway, if he were on his way to the venue.  International phones,  I tell ya.

Twenty minutes passed, and I was already asking myself, and my friend, what I would do if I couldn’t find him.  It wasn’t that huge of a place, my high school gymnasium is larger, but it was a good-sized crowd.   So, who was I to know if 1) he wasn’t there yet, 2) he looked NOTHING like his picture, but in a bad way [ yikes!]or 3) had arrived and didn’t like the sight of me and so disappeared.  I mean, in all honesty, any one of those things could have happened.  Or what if we spent the whole evening walking in circles looking for each other but never finding each other?  How much would that suck!

Folks, an HOUR passed.  AN HOUR.  I watched the entire opening act perform [if you can call that a performance because it was terrible].  At one point my friend asked what I was thinking.  My response:  “I’m thinking I can’t find this [guy] and I’m getting annoyed, but I’m hot…”  Honestly, though, I didn’t know what to do.  I’m socially awkward.  There’s no way I could saunter up to someone and hang with a random that I had never talked to before.  I got talked up by a couple of weirdo’s, too.  I’m not going to lie, no matter how long I had been waiting, and whether he had showed up or not, I still would have told those creepers I was there on a date.  I would have said he was in the bathroom if worse came to worse.  My friend theorized that maybe Mr. Winnipeg was actually a concert promoter and swindled me into a fake date in order to boost ticket sales for this concert.  Seriously.  I said that he had then won, because there I was at the concert, but no worries because that would just be another post for my blog.  😉

“I keep seeing dudes and going, oh god I hope THAT’S NOT him.”  Until one guy passed by, and I said to myself, oh goodness, I hope THAT’S him.  See, I would say we also failed to describe what we were wearing/looked like accurately enough, because all I said was jeans, white tank top, and pony tail, and all he said was grey button up shirt and jeans.  I mean I was wearing skinny jeans, that may have helped.  I had a small bronze purse, maybe that would have helped.   Or that I had on large silver earrings.   His button up had SHORT SLEEVES, that definitely would have helped.  Or we could have been smarter, and sent pictures of ourselves to each other in our garb ahead of time.  We really thought things through.

Let’s say we’re both, apparently, shy people.  So he actually passed by me two times, and we made eye contact, I think, but I mean, it’s so awkward to be like, “Um…hey is that you?”  But eventually, I saw the same guy waiting by the door, and whipping out my phone to compare pictures…oh that wasn’t really very accurate, actually, but I decided to ask anyways, and I was right!!!

And goodness me, could I have ever met a nicer, cuter, guy, totally ACTUALLY my type of a guy in real life?  Not lately.  [Ms. R, if you’re reading, you better believe that while I thought I was taking a chance on a guy outside my type, little did I know.]  He was so nice, definitely a gentleman, not inappropriate.   I was a bit afraid that meeting someone this way would automatically make that guy think it was okay to be awkwardly all over me in a sleazy sort of way.  Not so with Mr. Winnipeg.  I mean, he’s from Canada.  If nothing else, How I Met Your Mother has taught me that all Canadians are nice.  😉   I honestly don’t know what it was, but despite my nerves, I was also oddly at ease with him, right away.  [I think he may have won me over when he was telling me something and he ended his sentence with “eh” and didn’t even know it.]  I also informed him that I needed to text my friends that I found him so that they knew I was okay, and he hadn’t murdered me.  He laughed, thank goodness.

So, we enjoyed the concert, went for a drink with his friends, and then went to eat at IHOP, because they don’t have that in Canada, apparently.   We had a really great time.  I superbly enjoyed myself.  And then the evening was over.  It was 2 a.m., everyone was super tired, and I did have to work at 8 a.m.  So, we said goodbye.  Complete with the awkward internal dialogue on my behalf [and I would go so far as to say it was similar for him] of what to do for goodbye – a hug, a kiss, a handshake?  We didn’t do any of those things.

But that’s okay, because we’ve been talking ever since, and I am extremely enjoying getting to know someone this much.

And most important, he  has thus far passed #9 on my list of requirements “Someone who doesn’t mind that I have a son.”  So who knows, maybe I’ll soon become an international travelor and visit the Great White North.  I’ll let you know.

On Someone Else’s Description of That Particular Feeling

 In multiple posts, I have tried to articulate what I feel about what I think love should be like.  It should be a feeling like what Were I So Besotted describes here:

“All of You

What if you find him and he slips through your fingers? This fear used to guide my dating behavior. For a while, I went on countless dates, fearing I would say “no” and let someone “good” (whatever that means) slip through my fingers unwittingly. Now, “no” is my standard. After years of unsatisfying dates and relationships lasting several months at most, I am waiting for a feeling of synthesis, no, excitement and connection sooner rather than later. 

I recently found myself sitting next to someone I’d met before but with whom I had never felt any special connection. He literally transformed before my eyes from “just some guy” at the bar to someone with a vast and interesting inner world, and an ability to articulate at least some of it compellingly. I need more of those moments.”

She embroidered the above as well.
*I just had to share, and I jumped the gun, and posted without receiving her answer on if it’s okay, so if this post disappears, that would be why.  In the meantime, it is a perfect description really.

On the Turnout of My Impromptu Date – Part 1

Oh hey again internet.  Remember, I had a date, and I was nervous that I was going to be murdered?  I wasn’t.  I made it there and back in one piece, and safe and sound.  🙂

Let me tell you a little about my date.  He’s from Winnipeg.  Yup, he’s Canadian.  It went like this:

We started chatting quite randomly by this mobile dating app called Skout.  [I know, I know, I said I was done attempting to use that route, but I figured, I have nothing to lose so maybe a different media will work.]  Now usually, I don’t talk to anyone if they aren’t local.  So the fact that he was from so far away was a little off-putting, at first.  But you don’t get to know people if you don’t give them a chance, I guess, so I chatted back.  [It didn’t hurt that he is a total cutie. ;)]

We started talking about music at some point.  I love talking music, not because I am some big music aficionado, but because it’s fairly easy to find some common ground that way.  And he mentioned he was going to the aforementioned Childish Gambino concert.  I had honestly never heard of this persona of Donald Glover’s before, but I looked him up on YouTube, and really liked the music.  So Mr. Winnipeg said maybe I could come to the concert, too.  This was all very sudden.  First, I had only had this handy app for less than a day, and suddenly a possible date was looming in the horizon, with a guy who seems to fit my requirements:

  1. Someone intelligent, i.e. no poor grammar, does not make ignorant, racist remarks, etc.
  2. Somone who is not wasting their intelligence;
  3. Someone who does not have facial tattoos;
  4. Someone who is self-supporting;
  5. Someone who is clean cut and takes care of himself;
  6. Someone who can keep up with my wit;
  7. Someone age appropriate [“babies” need not apply anymore, please];
  8. And obviously, someone I find attractive.
These aren’t difficult or overly strenuous requirements to meet [except maybe the last one since each person’s definition of attractive isn’t the same], but it appears to me that at a certain point in life, the men that seem to think I am somehow in their dating league, some men seem to just give up themselves, be it physically or intellectually, or worse, both, and those are the men that apparently want to talk to me.  I am not saying I am a super model, but I am pretty confident in saying I am a cute, intelligent girl who takes care of herself for the most part.  I require someone who can match that.  If nothing else, based on initial meeting, I can disqualify someone based on initial appearances/conversation alone.  A first impression is incredibly important.
So, he suggested to me a couple of days in advance that I meet him and go to the concert with him and his friends, and I was unsure.  You all know, I am highly paranoid that if I ever were to meet someone from something like that, that I would get kidnapped or murdered.  But, the more I talked to Mr. Winnipeg, the more I was intrigued, and the more I realized, I wanted to meet him!  How about that!  Didn’t think, ever in a million, that I’d actually want to meet someone I talked to on a dating website/app.  Surprise, surprise, I was wrong.  [Sometimes, I am, you know.  ;)]  Even though I wanted to go, I was still EXTREMELY hesitant.  So I called up Ms. R and asked her opinion.  What did she think?  Should I do it?  I told her what I knew: his name, where he was from, sent her a picture of what he looked like.  Yes, she said, I think you should be careful, but you should go.
Decision made.  I said yes I will meet you; yes, I will go to the concert with you.  Those of you who know me in person know that I rarely, if ever, take impromptu trips, except once to Iowa and that was to visit one of my best friends.  So, this is out of the ordinary behavior for me.  As a mom, I try not to take many, if any, risks these days with my health or life.  Not that I really did before, but I mean, I don’t have more than one drink if I’m going to drive, and I don’t change my clothes in the car while driving like I used to – small things like that, that could prove to be potentially dangerous.  This concert/meeting was a new level of bravery for me.
I was super excited, though.  I was really looking forward to it.  We made a plan to meet at 8 just inside the doors of the venue for the concert, and we would wait for the other in case one of us was late.  I got to the venue, and realized I forgot to grab my ticket out of my car.  So, I went back, grabbed it, and was inside at promptly 8.  Ask me how I managed to be on time, I will never be able to explain that phenomenon.  So I waited.  And I waited.

On How I Have an Impromptu Date Tomorrow

Hey internet world.  I can stop bemoaning my dating life, or lack thereof, now.  I have a date tomorrow!  Date-ish?  It’s a first meet.  I call it a date.  He said it’s “like a date”.  It’s a freakin’ date.

We are going to a concert!  I am excited because it is to an artist named Childish Gambino.

Never heard of him?

Surprise!  It’s Donald Glover!  Er. Well, it’s not a surprise anymore, since you probably saw his face before this line.  

So internets, the concert is at Epic in Minneapolis.  And if I disappear, R has all the necessary information to track the dude down.  🙂  [I tried to Facebook stalk my date, but he has a pretty common name.  Don’t worry, unless both his name and his picture are fake, police can track him] <– Oh MY!  Who’s suspicious much?!  Me.  That’s me.

But honestly, I am psyched.

On My Fitness Goal for 2012

I started a new exercise routine today.  It’s not that I feel I need to lose weight.  I am quite comfortable with my 5’3″, 130 pound frame.  However, I am well aware that I am not in the best shape I could be.  I could definitely use some toning.  Some serious toning.  I could also use some work on the “baby pouch” that never quite seems to go away no matter how much weight I have lost.  Those of you who are a mom probably know just what I mean, I would think.

The  problem is that I only have two days out of the week that I can get out of the house to go work on this.  That would be fine, except I know myself well enough to know that I will work on something for those two days, feel great, and then when my son comes home, I will lose any sense of routine that had tentatively formed in those two days.  So, I need something I can do at home, after my kid goes to bed, that won’t end up with me waking my neighbors, i.e. no running in place inside, no crazy dance-move routines.  Something seemingly simple.

In other words, I can’t have a rave in my living room.

 Now, I am not sure what motivated me to finally start an exercise routine.  I mean, I have been kicking the idea around for a while, but thus far have been unable to motivate myself into doing something about it.  It seems today was the day.  Perhaps it was the not-so-great day I had, perhaps my kick of buying mostly fresh foods and/or healthy snacks on my recent trip to the grocery store, perhaps I finally got annoyed with my own lame excuses.

Is that even a valid excuse?  ,’:|

Well, whatever the reason, I got up and did it today.  I found a simple routine that I can do in about thirty minutes.  Yes, I found it on Pinterest, but really, at least I found something!  It consists of:

  1. 20 Squats – Easy enough start.
  2. 30 Lunges – My apartment is small, so I lunged in a lap around my living room.
  3. 40 Toe Touches – I was amazed, and a bit proud, that I could touch my toes at all!
  4. 50 Second Wall Sit – I didn’t really know what this is, so I just squatted for 50 seconds, as though I were sitting in an invisible chair.
  5. 100 Jumping Jacks – I haven’t done a jumping jack in probably ten years.  Boy, did THAT take me back to high school gym class!
  6.  50 Second Wall Sit – Much harder the second time around!
  7. 40 Toe Touches – I still handled these like a pro!
  8. 30 Lunges – Meh. Same level off pretty easy as last time.  Maybe I’m not doing them right.  Whatever, I’m still doing them.
  9. 20 Squats – Oh boy!  Much harder this time around!

After I was finished with this routine, which is meant to be a leg-toning routine mainly, but the jumping jacks definitely got my heart rate up a bit, I decided I also needed to throw something in to target my abs.  Problem right there.  I hate sit-ups.  Anyone who says they enjoy them is a liar!  They aren’t fun, they are a struggle, they are HARD, they make you feel a bit like a failure because you barely have the strength to lift your torso off the ground.  Well, that may be just me. I remember that I once did a quick workout routine with my friend R, and that routine included reverse crunches.  I really liked them, felt the helped me work my abs without the strain on my back, and feel like it’s something I can easily add to my new routine.

So much easier than regular sit-ups and still works your abs!

 From the linked website in the picture descriptor:

  1. Lie on your back and extend your arms out to the side, or keep your hands behind your head if that’s more comfortable (top illustration).
  2. Raise your knees and feet so they create a 90-degree angle. Contract your abdominals and exhale as you lift your hips off the floor with control; your knees will move toward your head (bottom illustration). Try to keep your knees at a right angle. Inhale and slowly lower.

Easy as pie, easy to add.  So I just added 15 reps of that to the beginning and ends of my routine, and voila!  NEW WORKOUT ROUTINE!

Here’s my plan,  folks:

  1. Do exercise routine every single evening.  I may add my 2 lb.weights for a bit of arm toning.  (Yep, I’m strong!)
  2. Add walking/jogging 2 mile route in my neighborhood on days I don’t have Q-bear, i.e. 2 nights a week.
  3.  Increase reps of each thing in the evening exercise routine.
  4. In three months, jog the entire 2 mile route with no walking breaks.
  5. In six months, be able to jog a 5k (3.1 miles) with no walking breaks.  

I really want to throw in a 10k (6.2 miles) in the mix, but I am trying to be realistic.  I guess I will just have to reassess in six months!  Maybe I should add buy a jogging stroller so I can jog when Q-bear is home, too…

Anyway, there you have it – my new fitness goals!  Yikes! 


On Receiving Compliments from Men

In the last week, I have been “complimented” by three different men.  Boy, it sure feels nice to get told nice things.  It also feels like a load of bull when gents use the most ludicrous lines, or they are drunk, or they are, what I will call, backwards complimenting you, i.e. insulting you and attempting to pass it off as an honest compliment.

Earlier this week:

Dude*:  You are just so irresistible!

ME:  [straight up, literally, LAUGHING OUT LOUD],  to wit:  BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!

Dude:  Why are you laughing?

Why did I laugh uproariously when you told me in all seriousness that I am irresistible?  Because you are ludicrous, man, ludicrous.  That is so cheesy!  I was wearing sweat pants.  Sweat pants!  I guess if I am irresistible, I can stop working on my come-hither stare.

*I call him Dude because I know he doesn’t like it.  Dudes, why do you all dislike being called “dude” by girls?  I heard it on the radio that that was true, and this guy confirmed that.  I don’t get it.  I will continue calling you “dude”, dude.

Friday night out with the ladies from work:

We were at a local bar, Busters, and a live band was playing – a cover band called IV Play.  We ladies were just hanging out in our group of five, standing in that circle formation like chicks do, and observing the random gathering of people that makes up this bar’s crowd, when this old, slightly insane looking, dirty older man with thinning/no hair walks past one of my friends and straight up grabs her behind.  WHAT?!  It was weird and awkward.  He didn’t even say anything, just kept making his insane migrations around the bar and always eventually standing close to our little group and giving us the crazy eye.  He passed by again, and grabbed another girl’s behind.   We were slightly creeped out.  And by slightly, I mean completely.   We were contemplating who would be the next victim and when he would strike again, when he appeared next to me.  His face, and his terrible beer breath, were RIGHT UP CLOSE NEXT MY FACE, and he puts his arm around me.  I was so grossed out.  I did that shrink away and hunch down into myself reflex when a creeper appears next to you.  I honestly think this guy thought he was somehow flattering me when he said, “Hey.  Why are you so uptight?  If you stop being so uptight, I will buy you a drink.”  I am not sure why I appeared uptight to him.  Maybe good posture and a terrified look in my eyes translates to being uptight to him?  It was creepy.  I didn’t take him up on that offer.  He left again, and made more migrations around the bar, and eventually made his way past us once more, and grabbed one more girl’s behind.  I think he got kicked out shortly after that.  Shame, because he only had one more girl to serial molest and he would have gotten to us all.

Same night, Friday, different establishment:

One of my friends, in the group of us that stayed out later, is from the local area.  Needless to say, she knows EVERYONE.  So, in the course of the evening we ran into someone she knows from high school.  With him, his older cousin.  Now this guy could have been cute if: 1) if he wasn’t already wasted.  We’re talking stumbling, bumbling, slur your words, doesn’t listen to a thing anyway else is saying, makes you repeat your name forty times because he doesn’t remember it from when you told him 2 seconds ago drunk; 2) if he wasn’t a sloppy drunk.  He spilled his drink on me not once, not twice, not three times, but FOUR TIMES.  The fourth time, it was his entire drink, and my entire pant leg was soaked through.  It didn’t seem to matter how far away I stood; and 3) if he didn’t arbitrarily talk about kicking people’s asses back in high school.  He is THIRTY-THREE!!!  He graduated high school roughly fifteen freakin’ years ago, and all he could talk about was back in high school how he used to kick some guy’s ass all the time.  Anyway, in between spilling on me, asking my name, again, and bragging about how tough he was in high school, he tried very hard to attempt to get me to go out with him some time.  He kept telling me how beautiful my blue eyes are, and how I seem really cool.  It would have been better received from a sober, cuter, taller man.  He says he’s gonna call me, but I hope he forgot my name.  Again.

I know that a big complaint from men is that women don’t know how to take a compliment.  Apparently we are supposed to just nod and smile when a guy tells us that we are sooooo pretty or that they think we’re beautiful.  But you know what, men, sometimes we don’t feel pretty.  Sometimes we feel ugly.  So maybe instead of trying so hard to convince me I’m beautiful, you could tell me you really like how I did my hair today or the earrings I am wearing.   I much prefer that to a blanket statement about “irresistible” I am.  That’s great, dude.