2008 has definitely been a year filled with ups and downs. As it comes to a close, I thought I'd take a minute to share a couple of my favorite moments:
1. The Hannah Montana concert. I have to admit, it was incredibly fun to sing "GNO" at the top of my lungs, even if I was the only person over the age of 30 who knew all of the words.
2. The anniversary weekend spent in a Villa in Fort Lauderdale, which Chris won at the annual school auction by blocking the bidding sheet from view both by holding mindless conversations with other parents who might possibly outbid us, and by loudly declaring, "this looks like a crappy hotel, who would actually want to stay here for a weekend!" A technique that we will be employing once again this year.
3. Snorkling with my Michigan girlfriends in Key Largo. A trip that was supposed to take us 30 minutes, but which in actuality took us 3 hours and 30 minutes including an unplanned tour of Miami International Airport's arrival and departure gates. Seriously, someone needs to put better signs on the Turnpike.
4. Taking 2nd place at our very first cheerleading competition. This was another trip that took 3 hours longer than planned, and which included a viewing of the space shuttle launch, a dark and dusty road straight out of a horror movie, and a free breakfast - really, what more can you ask for.
5. Having "the talk" with Kaitlyn. It included an enormous amount of giggling (on her part), and groaning (on my part), as well as some well thought out answers to questions that might scar her forever. Nevertheless, a favorite moment for sure.
6. Michael Phelps.
In the end, amidst economics, and politics, spiraling home values, and unforseen losses, it's been a wonderful year just because I've been able to share it with my friends and family...because I've been able to spend it with you.
Blessings on a great 2009, and lots of love from the Florida Chick
Monday, December 29, 2008
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Florida Chick Wears a Polo
Last week I wore a polo shirt to school. Well, not actually a Polo shirt …but, you know, a polo shirt – with short sleeves and a collar. The kind that Ralph Lauren made famous with a little stitched horse. Mine didn’t have a stitched horse but it did have a school logo – it was nice… the kind of shirt you wear to work on casual day with khakis and loafers, the problem is – I don’t wear khakis…or loafers. So today, on a day that I thought I’d bring school spirit to my students by wearing this polo…with khakis (c’mon, of course I didn’t wear loafers – I wore heels) instead, I brought laughter.
Apparently there is protocol for teachers that wear polos. It’s like the holiday sweater or the jean jumper, certain teachers wear them, but none under the age of 52 and only a few over. It’s an outfit that screams…”hi, I’m a teacher, now go write an essay.” To date, I’ve never been this teacher. I wear heels with everything including jeans (they make me taller than all of my students…and they make me look thin), I wear faux fur vests, and every once in a while a Hannah Montana puff-sleeved shirt. So, needless to say, on the day of the school-spirit polo, I was greeted with several once- overs, quite a few “did the school actually make you wear thats?” various raised eyebrows, and one lunch detention (seriously, you cannot say to a teacher “you look weird” without getting a lunch detention…you just can’t.) It was a banner day in my classroom in which I realized that regardless of how old I get or how much authority I have, it is still awkward to be the “uncool” person in Middle School.
I’ve tried to make up for it for it since then. The next day my heels were extra high and my jewelry was extra trendy. I said things in class like “whatev” and I talked about Twilight as if it weren’t the tackiest trend in literature since Sweet Valley High (oh, c’mon…you know it’s true). I belted out Christmas carols in class and traded in a grammar worksheet for a fun partner activity…all in an effort to regain my status as a non-polo wearing, semi-cool faculty member…and I thought I had done a good job, I thought the whole error in fashion judgment had been erased from the list of transgressions…until one of my co-workers (yes co-workers, not students) said to me with a smirk, “so Mrs. V., nice shirt yesterday.” You’ve got to be kidding me - it was a polo! It’s not like I showed up to school in a robe and fuzzy slippers! But that was it, my status as trend-setting teacher is officially gone, and apparently it’s been replaced with the title of “teacher who is only slightly cooler than one who shows up in a denim jumper” …and with my status officially gone, I’ve realized that there is just one thing left to do…I mean honestly, I might as well at least enjoy myself this holiday season – so Christmas sweater, here I come!
Apparently there is protocol for teachers that wear polos. It’s like the holiday sweater or the jean jumper, certain teachers wear them, but none under the age of 52 and only a few over. It’s an outfit that screams…”hi, I’m a teacher, now go write an essay.” To date, I’ve never been this teacher. I wear heels with everything including jeans (they make me taller than all of my students…and they make me look thin), I wear faux fur vests, and every once in a while a Hannah Montana puff-sleeved shirt. So, needless to say, on the day of the school-spirit polo, I was greeted with several once- overs, quite a few “did the school actually make you wear thats?” various raised eyebrows, and one lunch detention (seriously, you cannot say to a teacher “you look weird” without getting a lunch detention…you just can’t.) It was a banner day in my classroom in which I realized that regardless of how old I get or how much authority I have, it is still awkward to be the “uncool” person in Middle School.
I’ve tried to make up for it for it since then. The next day my heels were extra high and my jewelry was extra trendy. I said things in class like “whatev” and I talked about Twilight as if it weren’t the tackiest trend in literature since Sweet Valley High (oh, c’mon…you know it’s true). I belted out Christmas carols in class and traded in a grammar worksheet for a fun partner activity…all in an effort to regain my status as a non-polo wearing, semi-cool faculty member…and I thought I had done a good job, I thought the whole error in fashion judgment had been erased from the list of transgressions…until one of my co-workers (yes co-workers, not students) said to me with a smirk, “so Mrs. V., nice shirt yesterday.” You’ve got to be kidding me - it was a polo! It’s not like I showed up to school in a robe and fuzzy slippers! But that was it, my status as trend-setting teacher is officially gone, and apparently it’s been replaced with the title of “teacher who is only slightly cooler than one who shows up in a denim jumper” …and with my status officially gone, I’ve realized that there is just one thing left to do…I mean honestly, I might as well at least enjoy myself this holiday season – so Christmas sweater, here I come!
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Florida Chick Makes a Threat
In general, I have to say that I have pretty good kids - I know that I'm biased...you don't have to email me and press the issue - but, that being said, aside from the whole "voting-for-the-opposite-candidate" debaucle, I have to say that my kids are pretty well-adjusted, polite, funny, and low ratio of mistake-to-success kind of kids... except for this past week.
Now, I blame this on their father and the fact that he's traipsing around London and calling us "chaps" on the phone - it's ridiculous, I think he even said "cheerio" today before hanging up - mind you, he's only been gone four days, but apparantly it only takes that long for one to become a true Londoner...as long as he doesn't expect fish and chips when he gets back...
Anyway, the kids...now, it's nothing major, just your garden variety excessive whining and picking on each other - the kind that seems 582 times exaggerated when you've been home alone with them for almost a week...and tonight I'd had enough. I have to say that I really didn't time it right, I suppose I could have controlled myself for another day or two, but today, I lost it a little, and honestly, I did the worst thing imaginable...I threatened to take away Christmas. I mean really, what parent does this? What parent threatens Christmas? The T.V., the computer, even the cell phone or friends - but Christmas? really? And to top it all off, we were standing in front of Santa's workshop ready to hand him his letters, ready to sit on his lap and pour out our soul. And then it happened - the last straw - and mother of the year that I am...I say, in a very calm and quiet voice, the one that each child knows as the serious mom voice, "if you continue with this behavior, you will not get to celebrate Christmas this year."
Ok, so I blew it. I did what every mother vows never to do...I said the first words that came out of my mouth before thinking them over. Honestly, I would never cancel Christmas...it's just not an option. But instead of being reasonable, rational...I blurt it out, and instead of sounding responsible...I sound ridiculous. The thing is, to my kids, I wasn't ridiculous - they believed me, which might actually be worse. Now, not only am I ridiculous...now I've become the Grinch...ouch.
Oh, the joys of parenting. Of working through issues and teaching values. Of building dreams and building lives. It's the best job in the world...but it's the hardest - and at the end of the day we all know that someday our kids will be in therapy with a psychiatrist who asks them about their childhood...and honestly, no one wants them telling their therapist that mom took Christmas away as a punishment for acting up in the line at Santa's Workshop. Actually, no one wants them telling their therapist anything but how wonderful their mother was and how she shaped them into the wonderful doctor/lawyer/philanthropist that they now are...on the other hand, I did get two giant hugs before bed tonight and I think they may have forgotten about the whole "threat" thing...or maybe not, but in that case, I may have found the best way to guarantee that they are on Santa's "good list" - at least for the next 22 days, and that, really isn't all that bad.
Lots of Love from a completely ridiculous Florida Chick!
Now, I blame this on their father and the fact that he's traipsing around London and calling us "chaps" on the phone - it's ridiculous, I think he even said "cheerio" today before hanging up - mind you, he's only been gone four days, but apparantly it only takes that long for one to become a true Londoner...as long as he doesn't expect fish and chips when he gets back...
Anyway, the kids...now, it's nothing major, just your garden variety excessive whining and picking on each other - the kind that seems 582 times exaggerated when you've been home alone with them for almost a week...and tonight I'd had enough. I have to say that I really didn't time it right, I suppose I could have controlled myself for another day or two, but today, I lost it a little, and honestly, I did the worst thing imaginable...I threatened to take away Christmas. I mean really, what parent does this? What parent threatens Christmas? The T.V., the computer, even the cell phone or friends - but Christmas? really? And to top it all off, we were standing in front of Santa's workshop ready to hand him his letters, ready to sit on his lap and pour out our soul. And then it happened - the last straw - and mother of the year that I am...I say, in a very calm and quiet voice, the one that each child knows as the serious mom voice, "if you continue with this behavior, you will not get to celebrate Christmas this year."
Ok, so I blew it. I did what every mother vows never to do...I said the first words that came out of my mouth before thinking them over. Honestly, I would never cancel Christmas...it's just not an option. But instead of being reasonable, rational...I blurt it out, and instead of sounding responsible...I sound ridiculous. The thing is, to my kids, I wasn't ridiculous - they believed me, which might actually be worse. Now, not only am I ridiculous...now I've become the Grinch...ouch.
Oh, the joys of parenting. Of working through issues and teaching values. Of building dreams and building lives. It's the best job in the world...but it's the hardest - and at the end of the day we all know that someday our kids will be in therapy with a psychiatrist who asks them about their childhood...and honestly, no one wants them telling their therapist that mom took Christmas away as a punishment for acting up in the line at Santa's Workshop. Actually, no one wants them telling their therapist anything but how wonderful their mother was and how she shaped them into the wonderful doctor/lawyer/philanthropist that they now are...on the other hand, I did get two giant hugs before bed tonight and I think they may have forgotten about the whole "threat" thing...or maybe not, but in that case, I may have found the best way to guarantee that they are on Santa's "good list" - at least for the next 22 days, and that, really isn't all that bad.
Lots of Love from a completely ridiculous Florida Chick!
Monday, December 1, 2008
Florida Chick Celebrates the Season
There is something terribly wrong about celebrating the holidays in 80 degree weather. Don't get me wrong, I love the sunshine...hate the snow - but listening to Josh Groban croon "O Holy Night" while drinking a pina colada on the beach...that's a little much.
Ok, ok, so there's not actually a pina colada - but there is a beach, and flip flops, and tank tops, and air conditioning. I still order a pumpkin spice latte everytime I pass Starbucks...but there is just something not quite right about having to roll down the window while I enjoy it so that I don't break out into a sweat from the heat. This year, instead of driving slowly on the way home from Thanksgiving dinner so as not to go sliding off of the road because of black ice, we were forced to drive home slowly because of traffic on I-95. And even though we decorated the tree this year with carols playing sweetly in the background, I struggled to get a good picture of the kids because of the glare of the sun streaming in through the patio doors.
Now, snow has never been on my list of things that I miss about living in Michigan, but I have to say that every once in a while I'd love to slip on a sweater, heat up a mug of apple cider and watch the snowflakes flutter down while I listen to Christmas carols. I'd like to bundle up under a blanket, build a crackling fire, watch a football game, and enjoy the sparkle of the tree lights as they reflect off of the icicles hanging from the eaves. And then...as I continue daydreaming about all of the amazing Christmas memories that could be, I realize that although I don't have hot cocoa, or cozy blankets, or a fire in the fireplace (actually, I don't have a fireplace at all) I can still curl up with a good book while Josh Groban serenades me in the background, I can hang lights, and light candles, bake cookies (with the A/C on of course, so the kitchen doesn't get too hot), and when all else fails, I can throw on a tank top and flip flops, take a picture in front of the palm tree in the yard strung with Christmas lights, and send it to all my friends who had to shovel out their driveways before leaving for work this morning - because really, if I can't enjoy a little holiday weather, I might as well at least enjoy the fact that while my Northern friends are busy shoveling, scraping and bundling up, I'll be heading to the beach this weekend for the Candy Cane Parade, with a jewel toned pedicure and a new pair of flip flops to show it off...now that's a happy holiday!
With lots of love from a very merry Florida Chick!
Ok, ok, so there's not actually a pina colada - but there is a beach, and flip flops, and tank tops, and air conditioning. I still order a pumpkin spice latte everytime I pass Starbucks...but there is just something not quite right about having to roll down the window while I enjoy it so that I don't break out into a sweat from the heat. This year, instead of driving slowly on the way home from Thanksgiving dinner so as not to go sliding off of the road because of black ice, we were forced to drive home slowly because of traffic on I-95. And even though we decorated the tree this year with carols playing sweetly in the background, I struggled to get a good picture of the kids because of the glare of the sun streaming in through the patio doors.
Now, snow has never been on my list of things that I miss about living in Michigan, but I have to say that every once in a while I'd love to slip on a sweater, heat up a mug of apple cider and watch the snowflakes flutter down while I listen to Christmas carols. I'd like to bundle up under a blanket, build a crackling fire, watch a football game, and enjoy the sparkle of the tree lights as they reflect off of the icicles hanging from the eaves. And then...as I continue daydreaming about all of the amazing Christmas memories that could be, I realize that although I don't have hot cocoa, or cozy blankets, or a fire in the fireplace (actually, I don't have a fireplace at all) I can still curl up with a good book while Josh Groban serenades me in the background, I can hang lights, and light candles, bake cookies (with the A/C on of course, so the kitchen doesn't get too hot), and when all else fails, I can throw on a tank top and flip flops, take a picture in front of the palm tree in the yard strung with Christmas lights, and send it to all my friends who had to shovel out their driveways before leaving for work this morning - because really, if I can't enjoy a little holiday weather, I might as well at least enjoy the fact that while my Northern friends are busy shoveling, scraping and bundling up, I'll be heading to the beach this weekend for the Candy Cane Parade, with a jewel toned pedicure and a new pair of flip flops to show it off...now that's a happy holiday!
With lots of love from a very merry Florida Chick!
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Florida Chick's Day Off
So, I'm not about to say that days off are overrated, but it's 2:30 in the afternoon and here is a sample of my day by the numbers:
14 - times I've been on Facebook (although I only changed my status once because I didn't want anyone to know I'd been on that much.
24 - times the kids have asked for friends to come over and I've responded "no hablo ingles."
6 - times I've stood up, walked around the house and sat back down.
1/2 - pages that I've read of the book that I've been dying to read on my day off.
88 - number of unnecessary leftover halloween candies that I've eaten while staring at a blank T.V.
13 - houses I've chosen from realtor.com and craigslist that I absolutely MUST look at this afternoon.
8 - number of people that I've texted in the last hour about how bored I am.
5 million - times I reminded myself that I'm supposed to be relaxing and enjoying myself, sigh.
15 - days until Thanksgiving Break!
Lots of Love (and Happy Veteran's Day) from the Florida Chick!
14 - times I've been on Facebook (although I only changed my status once because I didn't want anyone to know I'd been on that much.
24 - times the kids have asked for friends to come over and I've responded "no hablo ingles."
6 - times I've stood up, walked around the house and sat back down.
1/2 - pages that I've read of the book that I've been dying to read on my day off.
88 - number of unnecessary leftover halloween candies that I've eaten while staring at a blank T.V.
13 - houses I've chosen from realtor.com and craigslist that I absolutely MUST look at this afternoon.
8 - number of people that I've texted in the last hour about how bored I am.
5 million - times I reminded myself that I'm supposed to be relaxing and enjoying myself, sigh.
15 - days until Thanksgiving Break!
Lots of Love (and Happy Veteran's Day) from the Florida Chick!
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Florida Chick Gets Political
So...I have a presidential candidate sign in my yard...and it's not even the candidate I'm voting for. Seriously, what happens to people during an election year? We turn completely crazy and yell at the people we love...and call them idiots because they don't agree with our political views...or is that just my family? Honestly, the only politically sane person that I know at the moment is my husband who rolls his eyes and shrugs regardless of the candidate being talked about...at this moment I still don't know who he's voting for...I think he secretly likes them both.
Not so my daughter...yes, she'll be nine in a month...but she has very strong political views. Don't most kids tend to adopt their parent's political views? Doesn't every little girl want to be just like her mom? What happened in my home? Where did I go wrong? How did I end up with a child that brings home a yard sign for the candidate she knows I'm voting against and top it all off with(seriously, this almost stopped my heart) "and I also don't believe in Global Warming." You don't believe in Global Warming??? Whose child is this? I mean, she practically grew up inside a recycling bin...what's wrong with her?
I guess this is what politics is all about, right? It's democracy at it's best. It's giving each and every one of us (whether 32 or 8 years old) the chance to share our voice and let our opinion be heard. It's the chance to stand up and say "let's fix the economy, save our schools, and for goodness sake - let's recycle people!" It's also the chance to say "I don't believe in Global Warming" and stand secure in the knowledge that in this great country you have the right to believe it (even if your mother says you're wrong.)
More than that, it's the opportunity for us to love each other through our differences. To recognize that we really all want the same thing, even if we have different ideas about how to get there. And finally, it's an opportunity to teach our kids that they have the right to voice their opinions, to tell us when they think we're wrong, and to step up and try to change the world...and if all it takes on my part is letting the most independent, strong-willed eight year old in the country put a yard sign up - even though I cringe every time I see it - I'm glad to do it...and maybe one day, when she's the President of the United States, she'll finally see that I was right all along...or maybe not.
Lots of Love from a ready-for-election-day Florida Chick!
Not so my daughter...yes, she'll be nine in a month...but she has very strong political views. Don't most kids tend to adopt their parent's political views? Doesn't every little girl want to be just like her mom? What happened in my home? Where did I go wrong? How did I end up with a child that brings home a yard sign for the candidate she knows I'm voting against and top it all off with(seriously, this almost stopped my heart) "and I also don't believe in Global Warming." You don't believe in Global Warming??? Whose child is this? I mean, she practically grew up inside a recycling bin...what's wrong with her?
I guess this is what politics is all about, right? It's democracy at it's best. It's giving each and every one of us (whether 32 or 8 years old) the chance to share our voice and let our opinion be heard. It's the chance to stand up and say "let's fix the economy, save our schools, and for goodness sake - let's recycle people!" It's also the chance to say "I don't believe in Global Warming" and stand secure in the knowledge that in this great country you have the right to believe it (even if your mother says you're wrong.)
More than that, it's the opportunity for us to love each other through our differences. To recognize that we really all want the same thing, even if we have different ideas about how to get there. And finally, it's an opportunity to teach our kids that they have the right to voice their opinions, to tell us when they think we're wrong, and to step up and try to change the world...and if all it takes on my part is letting the most independent, strong-willed eight year old in the country put a yard sign up - even though I cringe every time I see it - I'm glad to do it...and maybe one day, when she's the President of the United States, she'll finally see that I was right all along...or maybe not.
Lots of Love from a ready-for-election-day Florida Chick!
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Florida Chick's moment of genius
It used to be that my moments of genius could be measured by an award recieved or an amount of recognition given. It might have been a great gymnastics score, a 4.0 gpa, or the number of students who had passed a test...today, however, my moment of genius was less momentus yet equally important...it was the day that I remembered to take the chicken out of the freezer before work, marinate it, and prep the salad all so I could walk in the door at 5:45 and not wonder what's for dinner...it was glorious!
I was so excited as I walked in the door - no cereal for dinner tonight. No mac'n cheese with hotdogs (believe me, occasionally you can add hotdogs and convince your familiy it is a "casserole"), no breakfast as dinner (which, is really just an excuse to use the 'just add water' pancake mix in the back of your pantry), it was a full-blown, sit-down, planned meal in which any working mother could take pride. Don't get me wrong, I love to cook, I just seem to not be organized enough to plan ahead and be prepared during the school year. Walking into a pre-planned meal was a moment that would erase certain memories of the day which include announcing to a classroom of middle schoolers that if they didn't feel like listening I certainly didn't feel like teaching, after which I sat at my desk, picked up a book, and left them to figure out their homework on their own (not one of my better moments). It is notable to add that as I pulled the marinated chicken out of the fridge at 5:45, I fleetingly realized how much smaller chicken thighs are than chicken breasts -and as I sauteed the spinach, garlic and tomatoes, I realized that an entire bag of spinach shrinks down to fit into a shot glass. I refused to be fully concerned, however, until I began filling up dinner plates. One for Kaitlyn, one for Carson, one for Chris...
Yup, that's it, my moment of genius came to an end as I realized that my well intentioned meal was going to fall short...I, perfectionist extraordinaire, did not have enough food for my family dinner. To be honest, Chris fought with me to give me the last plate of food, but I was not about to lose an opportunity to play the martyr...if I couldn't enjoy the well-planned meal, the least I could do was earn everyone's pity. Which I did - the evening prayer went like this..."dear God, thank you for this food...and please help mom to eat something...amen." Worried that I had caused my children to think I suffered some sort of anorexia, I made a turkey sandwich and watched my family as they enjoyed the meal that I had so geniously remembered to prepare.
The story doesn't end there, however, sitting at the table, I realized that I had had another moment of genius, just two days ago I had picked up a bottle of Pinot Grigio that would go well with my turkey sandwich. I was feeling hopeful again until I took out the bottle...and the wine opener...and realized that my wine came with a twist off cap...a TWIST OFF CAP...sigh...but despite the twist off, (don't tell my wine conossieur parents) it did go well with the turkey sandwich...I suppose all I can do now is plan for tomorrow, I think I'll plan for pancakes...
Lots of love from a slightly hungry Florida Chick
I was so excited as I walked in the door - no cereal for dinner tonight. No mac'n cheese with hotdogs (believe me, occasionally you can add hotdogs and convince your familiy it is a "casserole"), no breakfast as dinner (which, is really just an excuse to use the 'just add water' pancake mix in the back of your pantry), it was a full-blown, sit-down, planned meal in which any working mother could take pride. Don't get me wrong, I love to cook, I just seem to not be organized enough to plan ahead and be prepared during the school year. Walking into a pre-planned meal was a moment that would erase certain memories of the day which include announcing to a classroom of middle schoolers that if they didn't feel like listening I certainly didn't feel like teaching, after which I sat at my desk, picked up a book, and left them to figure out their homework on their own (not one of my better moments). It is notable to add that as I pulled the marinated chicken out of the fridge at 5:45, I fleetingly realized how much smaller chicken thighs are than chicken breasts -and as I sauteed the spinach, garlic and tomatoes, I realized that an entire bag of spinach shrinks down to fit into a shot glass. I refused to be fully concerned, however, until I began filling up dinner plates. One for Kaitlyn, one for Carson, one for Chris...
Yup, that's it, my moment of genius came to an end as I realized that my well intentioned meal was going to fall short...I, perfectionist extraordinaire, did not have enough food for my family dinner. To be honest, Chris fought with me to give me the last plate of food, but I was not about to lose an opportunity to play the martyr...if I couldn't enjoy the well-planned meal, the least I could do was earn everyone's pity. Which I did - the evening prayer went like this..."dear God, thank you for this food...and please help mom to eat something...amen." Worried that I had caused my children to think I suffered some sort of anorexia, I made a turkey sandwich and watched my family as they enjoyed the meal that I had so geniously remembered to prepare.
The story doesn't end there, however, sitting at the table, I realized that I had had another moment of genius, just two days ago I had picked up a bottle of Pinot Grigio that would go well with my turkey sandwich. I was feeling hopeful again until I took out the bottle...and the wine opener...and realized that my wine came with a twist off cap...a TWIST OFF CAP...sigh...but despite the twist off, (don't tell my wine conossieur parents) it did go well with the turkey sandwich...I suppose all I can do now is plan for tomorrow, I think I'll plan for pancakes...
Lots of love from a slightly hungry Florida Chick
Monday, August 18, 2008
Florida Chick Catches Olympic Fever
I don't know about you, but I have spent the past week in an olympic-sized black hole. I have been completely consumed by every single event and have tried to watch NBC, MSNBC, USA, CNN, and UNIVISION simultaneously in order to not miss any big moments that I might hear about from someone else. I have sobbed uncontrollably over Michael Phelps, Dara Torres, the entire American gymnastics team, the Jamaican runners, the Latvian men's beach volleyball team, and the African swimmer who had never seen an olympic-sized swimming pool until his first heat at the games. I have ignored my children, my husband, and multiple phone calls to watch every possible olympic event...and although I did make it to Bible study this week, it was completely hard to concentrate because I knew someone was in the pool winning a medal.
The olympics has also made me a little nostalgiac for my younger days as an athlete...no matter that the current sprinters cross the finish line in the amount of time that it would take me to set up my starting block, or that the gymnasts throw tricks that are so amazing they are named after themselves...there is something magical about the olympics that makes me think, "you know, I could probably do that..." and with the encouragement of the 33 year old gymnast who won the silver on the vault last night, I have come up with 4 sports that I think I might be able to work on in the next four years in order to earn a spot at the 2012 games in London, here goes...
Number 1 - Shooting. Okay, I haven't actually seen this sport on TV, but I'm assuming you take a gun and shoot it at a target. Now personally, I am opposed to guns and am kind of afraid that if I had one I would accidentally shoot my big toe off - but with practice....
Number 2 - Speed walking. I'm not really a runner but I think that speed walking might be, well, more my speed. This is a sport that I have watched and as far as I can tell, the goal is to wear short shorts and walk a marathon route while stepping heel-toe and moving your hips back and forth - a definite possibility.
Number 3 - Fencing. Currently the U.S. has the number 1,2, and 3 fencers in the world, but I think this might be the possible sport to break into. The goal is to touch your opponent with your pokey-thing before they touch you. With enough practice I think I could become a pretty good poke and ducker. The only thing is the uniforms...I'm not crazy about the uniforms.
Number 4 - Tae Kwon Do. This is definitely the best bet, I have multiple Power Ranger DVD's in my house that have already given me amazing skills. Seriously, I'm pretty confident that I can take down multiple alien-like creatures from the planet Zordon...a human from the Ukraine shouldn't be that hard.
So, there is only one week of olympic awesomeness left, so please don't be offended if I don't answer your phone call in the middle of a synchronized swimming routine...it's not personal and actually, I need to start scoping out my competition. Seriously - I'm ready, I'm fired up...and currently I'm eating a bag of lime tostitos, no seriously...the whole bag. But no worries, I'll start training tomorrow...or at least the next time I put on the Power Rangers movie...and after I finish these chips...and the other bag that's in the pantry...enjoy the games!
Lots of Love from a not as athletic as she used to be Florida Chick!
The olympics has also made me a little nostalgiac for my younger days as an athlete...no matter that the current sprinters cross the finish line in the amount of time that it would take me to set up my starting block, or that the gymnasts throw tricks that are so amazing they are named after themselves...there is something magical about the olympics that makes me think, "you know, I could probably do that..." and with the encouragement of the 33 year old gymnast who won the silver on the vault last night, I have come up with 4 sports that I think I might be able to work on in the next four years in order to earn a spot at the 2012 games in London, here goes...
Number 1 - Shooting. Okay, I haven't actually seen this sport on TV, but I'm assuming you take a gun and shoot it at a target. Now personally, I am opposed to guns and am kind of afraid that if I had one I would accidentally shoot my big toe off - but with practice....
Number 2 - Speed walking. I'm not really a runner but I think that speed walking might be, well, more my speed. This is a sport that I have watched and as far as I can tell, the goal is to wear short shorts and walk a marathon route while stepping heel-toe and moving your hips back and forth - a definite possibility.
Number 3 - Fencing. Currently the U.S. has the number 1,2, and 3 fencers in the world, but I think this might be the possible sport to break into. The goal is to touch your opponent with your pokey-thing before they touch you. With enough practice I think I could become a pretty good poke and ducker. The only thing is the uniforms...I'm not crazy about the uniforms.
Number 4 - Tae Kwon Do. This is definitely the best bet, I have multiple Power Ranger DVD's in my house that have already given me amazing skills. Seriously, I'm pretty confident that I can take down multiple alien-like creatures from the planet Zordon...a human from the Ukraine shouldn't be that hard.
So, there is only one week of olympic awesomeness left, so please don't be offended if I don't answer your phone call in the middle of a synchronized swimming routine...it's not personal and actually, I need to start scoping out my competition. Seriously - I'm ready, I'm fired up...and currently I'm eating a bag of lime tostitos, no seriously...the whole bag. But no worries, I'll start training tomorrow...or at least the next time I put on the Power Rangers movie...and after I finish these chips...and the other bag that's in the pantry...enjoy the games!
Lots of Love from a not as athletic as she used to be Florida Chick!
Friday, July 25, 2008
Florida Chick in Michigan
So I'm wearing a sweatshirt. It's the end of July - the heart of summer - and I'm wearing a black velour hoodie just to keep warm...this is definitely not South Florida. I realized it last night when I took the kids for ice cream and it didn't drip down their arm in a sticky mess...and when I had to turn the air off in the car because the kids were shivering...and when we slept with the windows open and had to all snuggle tightly together to stay warm. It's like Dorothy when she sees the Oompa Loompas and announces "Toto...we're not in Kansas anymore" (actually I've never seen the entire movie, but I'm told this is what happens - and, okay Oompa Loompas are from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory) but honestly, it's much the same...we're definitely not in Fort Lauderdale.
It's funny the things that you begin to accept as normal once to adjust to the pace of a new surrounding. For example, we were sitting at a stoplight yesterday, second in line, when it turned green. The car in front of me didn't notice the color change so Kaitlyn looks at me and says, "Mom, honk the horn - this guys just sitting there," which he was. But even more surprising than the fact that my daughter was ready to honk the horn at this poor guy, was the fact that not one person in line was yelling out their car window or honking their horn at him. Now, we were all complaining to ourselves about this idiot who wasn't moving...but not one person threatened to shoot him for dozing off at a red light...something that has become part of everyday life down south...it's probably the heat - 100 degree weather could make anyone crazy.
I have to say that the cooler weather and calmer pace of West Michigan has many advantages (including not feeling panicky at the stoplight) for example, my hair looks fantastic! I flat ironed it yesterday and it has kept its sleek and smooth shape...no frizzy curls that sneak up on you because of the humidity index of 96. And there are coffee shops on every corner...this is a huge blessing to me because down south my only choices are the ridiculously expensive (but so worth it) Starbucks or the cheaper (and slightly bitter) Dunkin Donuts which has the scary drive through where I always worry that I might get mugged.
As different as my two hometowns are, I'm glad to have two places where I love to be, and to top it all off regardless of where I am, I'm less than a mile from the beach. So that's today's plan, brush my nice flat hair, take my time at thh stoplights and hit the beach...although, today I will be hitting it with a blanket and sweatshirt as well as a mug of off-brand coffee, and off course parkas and mittens for the kids!
Lots of Love from a slightly chilly Florida Chick
It's funny the things that you begin to accept as normal once to adjust to the pace of a new surrounding. For example, we were sitting at a stoplight yesterday, second in line, when it turned green. The car in front of me didn't notice the color change so Kaitlyn looks at me and says, "Mom, honk the horn - this guys just sitting there," which he was. But even more surprising than the fact that my daughter was ready to honk the horn at this poor guy, was the fact that not one person in line was yelling out their car window or honking their horn at him. Now, we were all complaining to ourselves about this idiot who wasn't moving...but not one person threatened to shoot him for dozing off at a red light...something that has become part of everyday life down south...it's probably the heat - 100 degree weather could make anyone crazy.
I have to say that the cooler weather and calmer pace of West Michigan has many advantages (including not feeling panicky at the stoplight) for example, my hair looks fantastic! I flat ironed it yesterday and it has kept its sleek and smooth shape...no frizzy curls that sneak up on you because of the humidity index of 96. And there are coffee shops on every corner...this is a huge blessing to me because down south my only choices are the ridiculously expensive (but so worth it) Starbucks or the cheaper (and slightly bitter) Dunkin Donuts which has the scary drive through where I always worry that I might get mugged.
As different as my two hometowns are, I'm glad to have two places where I love to be, and to top it all off regardless of where I am, I'm less than a mile from the beach. So that's today's plan, brush my nice flat hair, take my time at thh stoplights and hit the beach...although, today I will be hitting it with a blanket and sweatshirt as well as a mug of off-brand coffee, and off course parkas and mittens for the kids!
Lots of Love from a slightly chilly Florida Chick
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Florida Chick Embraces Nature
So, I'm not really an outdoors person. Actually, that's an understatement...I just really don't like the outdoors period. I mean, don't get me wrong, I love the environment - as in please recycle and use re-usable grocery bags, and conserve energy in whatever way possible - but loving the environment is completely different from loving the outdoors...which I don't. In fact, I have two major fears in life, the dark, which I think is probably pretty legitimate, and grass, which I know is irrational...but even as I write about it I get a little panicky thinking about walking barefoot through my backyard, seriously, ask my friends...
All that being said, I feel that it is rather ironic that Chris and I have settled down in South Florida. Living down here in July is somewhat like living in the rainforests of Belize...not that I've visited the rainforests of Belize (actually, are there rainforests in Belize?) Anyway, you get the picture - it's hot and steamy. Multiple times a week we find a slug or a toad stuck to our glass doors, and I think that currently there is an infestation of gnats because everytime I go running with Kaitlyn, I seem to run through this black cloud of tiny, flying parasites that get into my eyes and stick to the sweat on my collarbone...seriously, and this is at six in the morning when it's only 92 degrees and 90 percent humidity.
To top it all off, I think it might be critter breeding season. Everytime I open my front door there seem to be 5 billion geckos that go running in all directions...I have no doubt they are making thereselves comfortable in one of the corners of my home. They are gray and green and yellow and all shapes in sizes...and I swear that each day there are more than the day before. Not to be outdone, there now seems to be a family (meaning brothers, sisters, cousins, and grandkids) of giant yellow grasshoppers who are living on our patio. I have never seen anything like these completely disgusting insects but here they are, hopping 8 feet in the air all over the backyard. They are 3 inches long and have managed to eat a majority of my bougain villea...they are not my friends.
Finally, you will be glad to hear that there are now 3 giant iguanas on our school playground instead of two. Usually, since this is summer, it wouldn't be a problem, but since I'm teaching summer camp, I get to hang out with them multiple times a week. Everyone insists that giant iguanas are more afraid of humans than we are of them, but I'm not convinced...and even if they are afraid, they're ugly and I just don't like them.
So here I am...the girl who thinks a great sunny Saturday should be spent curled up indoors with a good book or chick flick, living down in the South Florida rainforest and sharing my home with geckos, gnats and grasshoppers, and sharing my workspace with giant iguanas. My resolve to stay indoors and off of the grass has been strengthed knowing that each of these animals crawls through the lawn and uses it as a toilet and I guess my only comfort is knowing that by going green I am embracing all elements of this great planet...that, and the fact that I have air conditioning, thank goodness!!
Oh, and just so you know that I'm not exaggerating I've included a picture of one of my grasshopper friends...
Lots of Love from the Florida Chick
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Florida Chick gets reflective
I haven't had a wake-up call like this since my freshman year in college when I visited the dressing room of the Gap and realized I could no longer button a pair of size ten jeans...not a big deal to some, but since I had begun the semester as a size six...I'm sure you get the picture.
Today's wake-up call started much the same way, except is was an Old Navy dressing room, and I haven't gone up a size in a while (which is surprising since I go through a bottle of Spiced Vanilla Chai coffee creamer every three days) but it was distressing none the less.
It started about a month and a half ago when I went ahead and did what all good spa-junkie girls know they should never do... I peeled off my malibu sunset acrylic nails. It had been about a year and I needed a break, I figured it was an expense I didn't need in my life and I couldn't really find a good time to get a fill anyway...so I peeled. I followed that little ritual up by taking a bottle of nail polish remover to my toes. The paint was chipping a little anyway, so I figured what the heck, I'll leave them bare. From there I'm guessing it just kept snowballing because without even realizing it, I ended up in the Old Navy dressing room this afternoon looking at the reflection of a girl I didn't even recognize. Now I realize that many of you are already rolling your eyes, but for those of you who know me well...I know you can feel my pain.
I was trying on the first of many pairs of half-priced shorts when I looked up into the face of a girl with a greasy ponytail and bushy eyebrows. Seriously, I did a double take. When I tell you that my ponytail was greasy, I mean it looked like the Exxon Valdez had sailed across my head and left behind an oil spill...it was bad. To top it all off, my ponytail holder was stretched out so the pony hung limply in the middle of my head - not perky, not sleak and shiny, just greasy and floppy - the worst combination.
Slightly below the oil slick on my head sat two caterpillers...oh, my bad, those are my eyebrows! They were thick and prickly and I think I even had a little hair curling up right in the middle. But wait...it gets worse. As I began to panic about what I had let myself become I realized that I was also wearing a bright red summer camp t-shirt about a size and a half too big for me, a pair of black pinstriped capri pants with a bleach stain on the right leg, and flip flops...not cute, sassy, flirty flip-flops...ugly ones black, thick flip flops, ones designed for hiking - not for shopping.
It's okay, I know that not everyone will get it, and many of you are already tossing around words like "vain," and itching for the chance to remind me that beauty is only skin deep, but honestly, as a self-proclaimed spa junkie, it was bad...even if I weren't a spa girl it still would've been bad. There is a light at the end of the tunnel however, I've already plucked and tweezed those stray eyebrow hairs (what I didn't catch the wax girl will fix later this week), I scheduled a haircut for next weekend (not to mention deep conditioned right when I got home). And just to set things right and correct any wrongs that started me on this slippery slope, I'll be at the Nail Haven tomorrow getting a pedicure and a new set of acrylics, and when I get the urge to peel them off, I'll head to the Old Navy dressing room, stand in front of the mirror and remind myself that beauty may only be skin deep, but my skin deep looks much better with a pluck and a shine!
Lots of Love from the Florida Chick
Today's wake-up call started much the same way, except is was an Old Navy dressing room, and I haven't gone up a size in a while (which is surprising since I go through a bottle of Spiced Vanilla Chai coffee creamer every three days) but it was distressing none the less.
It started about a month and a half ago when I went ahead and did what all good spa-junkie girls know they should never do... I peeled off my malibu sunset acrylic nails. It had been about a year and I needed a break, I figured it was an expense I didn't need in my life and I couldn't really find a good time to get a fill anyway...so I peeled. I followed that little ritual up by taking a bottle of nail polish remover to my toes. The paint was chipping a little anyway, so I figured what the heck, I'll leave them bare. From there I'm guessing it just kept snowballing because without even realizing it, I ended up in the Old Navy dressing room this afternoon looking at the reflection of a girl I didn't even recognize. Now I realize that many of you are already rolling your eyes, but for those of you who know me well...I know you can feel my pain.
I was trying on the first of many pairs of half-priced shorts when I looked up into the face of a girl with a greasy ponytail and bushy eyebrows. Seriously, I did a double take. When I tell you that my ponytail was greasy, I mean it looked like the Exxon Valdez had sailed across my head and left behind an oil spill...it was bad. To top it all off, my ponytail holder was stretched out so the pony hung limply in the middle of my head - not perky, not sleak and shiny, just greasy and floppy - the worst combination.
Slightly below the oil slick on my head sat two caterpillers...oh, my bad, those are my eyebrows! They were thick and prickly and I think I even had a little hair curling up right in the middle. But wait...it gets worse. As I began to panic about what I had let myself become I realized that I was also wearing a bright red summer camp t-shirt about a size and a half too big for me, a pair of black pinstriped capri pants with a bleach stain on the right leg, and flip flops...not cute, sassy, flirty flip-flops...ugly ones black, thick flip flops, ones designed for hiking - not for shopping.
It's okay, I know that not everyone will get it, and many of you are already tossing around words like "vain," and itching for the chance to remind me that beauty is only skin deep, but honestly, as a self-proclaimed spa junkie, it was bad...even if I weren't a spa girl it still would've been bad. There is a light at the end of the tunnel however, I've already plucked and tweezed those stray eyebrow hairs (what I didn't catch the wax girl will fix later this week), I scheduled a haircut for next weekend (not to mention deep conditioned right when I got home). And just to set things right and correct any wrongs that started me on this slippery slope, I'll be at the Nail Haven tomorrow getting a pedicure and a new set of acrylics, and when I get the urge to peel them off, I'll head to the Old Navy dressing room, stand in front of the mirror and remind myself that beauty may only be skin deep, but my skin deep looks much better with a pluck and a shine!
Lots of Love from the Florida Chick
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Florida Chick is an Embarrassment
It's official, my daughter has finally crossed the line from "girl" to "tween." I should have realized that the obsession with Hannah Montana and the innocent crush on The Jonas Brothers were first signs of this twisted journey into pre-adolescence, but no, I just chalked it up to the marketing genius of Disney and continued tacking posters onto the walls, oblivious to what I'm sure any notable psychiatrist would have picked up as the daughter stage known as "mom, I'm way too cool for you."
Which brings me to my current dilemma...and the reason I have finally realized that my daughter is moving into tween-hood. It's not her age, not the Hannah/Jonas obsession, not even the fact that she is now better at math than I am...It's the fact that two days ago she said, "oh my gosh mom, stop dancing, you are embarrassing me!" Not only that, but she said it while I was dancing in the living room...with the curtains closed.
Now I understand the dilemma of the daughter whose mom is a "professional dancer" (read my blog about Rock of Love if you have any questions on the definition of this occupation) and is saying "oh my gosh mom, stop dancing, you are embarrassing me because men are putting dollars in your thong." But really, in the living room? curtains closed? getting down to Toby Mac? It's too much. To top it off, I thought I was a cool mom...I mean, not a cool mom like in Mean Girls (you know, you know what I'm talking about) but a cool mom none the less. I wear low-rise bootcut jeans (seriously, skinny jeans...not happening) with my Hannah Montana t-shirt, and wear cool shoes and shiny lipgloss, and big sunglasses. I read BOP magazine with her and pick out who was a fashion hot or not at the Nick Kids awards, and most importantly, my students at school think I'm cool...why wouldn't she? Even worse, it was my dancing that embarrassed her... I have flashbacks of Elaine on Seinfeld doing the thumb-out half-kick dance that made Jerry and George cringe and wonder when I went from center-of-the-dancefloor-girl to girl-who-reminds-daughter-of-a-Seinfeld-episode. Sigh...
I suppose there is a reason that God gave tweens and moms multiple years to figure this whole thing out, in the midst of the eye-rolling embarrassment, he gives us moments like last night when Kaitlyn looked up and me and said, don't forget to check on me before you go to bed, or moments like this morning when she handed me the brush to make the perfect ponytail...or moments like right now as she's playing "school" with her best friend and says in her best teacher voice "I'm Mrs. VanHekken..." and then looks at me... and smiles.
Lots of Love from the Florida Chick
Which brings me to my current dilemma...and the reason I have finally realized that my daughter is moving into tween-hood. It's not her age, not the Hannah/Jonas obsession, not even the fact that she is now better at math than I am...It's the fact that two days ago she said, "oh my gosh mom, stop dancing, you are embarrassing me!" Not only that, but she said it while I was dancing in the living room...with the curtains closed.
Now I understand the dilemma of the daughter whose mom is a "professional dancer" (read my blog about Rock of Love if you have any questions on the definition of this occupation) and is saying "oh my gosh mom, stop dancing, you are embarrassing me because men are putting dollars in your thong." But really, in the living room? curtains closed? getting down to Toby Mac? It's too much. To top it off, I thought I was a cool mom...I mean, not a cool mom like in Mean Girls (you know, you know what I'm talking about) but a cool mom none the less. I wear low-rise bootcut jeans (seriously, skinny jeans...not happening) with my Hannah Montana t-shirt, and wear cool shoes and shiny lipgloss, and big sunglasses. I read BOP magazine with her and pick out who was a fashion hot or not at the Nick Kids awards, and most importantly, my students at school think I'm cool...why wouldn't she? Even worse, it was my dancing that embarrassed her... I have flashbacks of Elaine on Seinfeld doing the thumb-out half-kick dance that made Jerry and George cringe and wonder when I went from center-of-the-dancefloor-girl to girl-who-reminds-daughter-of-a-Seinfeld-episode. Sigh...
I suppose there is a reason that God gave tweens and moms multiple years to figure this whole thing out, in the midst of the eye-rolling embarrassment, he gives us moments like last night when Kaitlyn looked up and me and said, don't forget to check on me before you go to bed, or moments like this morning when she handed me the brush to make the perfect ponytail...or moments like right now as she's playing "school" with her best friend and says in her best teacher voice "I'm Mrs. VanHekken..." and then looks at me... and smiles.
Lots of Love from the Florida Chick
Florida Chick's Poison
So, here is my confession...
I cannot stop watching Bret Michaels' Rock of Love on VHI.
I know, this confession is probably less exciting than if I were to tell you that I were growing pot in the basement or something equally oh, I don't know...illegal? But seriously, if you grew up like me, listening to Michael W. Smith and Amy Grant, you will understand my complete fascination with this amazing subculture of women who feel the need to flaunt the fact that they have chosen stripping as their career in order to attract the likes of a severely needy rocker who is obviously in need of a reality show to boost any sort of music he may want to write in the future (yes, I know that was a very long sentence).
Let me start from the beginning for those of you unfamiliar with "Rock of Love." You first need to know that Bret Michaels is (or was) the lead singer of Poison - you know, big hair band, eyeliner, drugs, etc. It is quite possible that some of you may not have been able to listen to Poison because again, like me, your parents probably thought that they were Satan worshippers (although c'mon, Every Rose Has its Thorn? One of the best rock ballads of all time - I danced to it with my 7th grade boyfriend in Kevin Crandall's basement - yes!!) Apparently Bret, who is on the road a lot and loves to party, has had a difficult time finding that one special woman to call his own. Now seriously, is this a surprise? You're in concert every night, women are throwing their underwear at you, you have an unlimited supply of vodka and whiskey and through the haze of marijuana that you have been smoking all night you can't find the woman that you want to spend the rest of your life with? Shocking.
So anyway, Bret has decided to follow in the very classy shoes of Flavor Flav (who I am proud to say, I never watched) and decided to star in a reality show similar to The Bachelor - except that he has added to the Bachelorette house an unlimited supply of vodka and beer and I'm not positive, but it seems like one of the requirements just might be that the women are required to dance around in their underwear at least once a day. So far, there have been a lot of tears over the fact that Bret has made out with all of the girls at one point or another leaving someone with hurt feelings, and there is a lot of cattiness over who has real breasts and who has fake as well as whether or not being a stripper makes you a "ho." Hmmm...good questions.
OK, so I'm making fun, but there is something completely addicting about watching tacky drunk girls cry because Bret slipped someone else the tongue and they only got a peck. Maybe, I like watching because afterward I feel so much better about myself knowing that I would never be caught dead trying to get Bret Michaels into bed - especially on TV. And then again, maybe I just like it because it makes me laugh and gives me something to watch that I don't have to think too hard about...I don't have to call in my vote or become emotionally attached to one of the contestants and then become heartbroken when they are voted off (think Daughtry or Melinda Doolittle). So OK, I confess, it's tacky, it's tasteless, it's just plain wrong...but I love to watch it - and next Sunday night, when there is another episode and two more girls go home, completely shocked that they haven't made a connection even though they've spent countless hours in a liplock with a hopeless badboy, I'll cuddle up with Chris and feel a little better about myself knowing that at least I didn't have to throw my underwear on stage to get my husband to marry me. Until next time...
Lots of Love from the Florida Chick
I cannot stop watching Bret Michaels' Rock of Love on VHI.
I know, this confession is probably less exciting than if I were to tell you that I were growing pot in the basement or something equally oh, I don't know...illegal? But seriously, if you grew up like me, listening to Michael W. Smith and Amy Grant, you will understand my complete fascination with this amazing subculture of women who feel the need to flaunt the fact that they have chosen stripping as their career in order to attract the likes of a severely needy rocker who is obviously in need of a reality show to boost any sort of music he may want to write in the future (yes, I know that was a very long sentence).
Let me start from the beginning for those of you unfamiliar with "Rock of Love." You first need to know that Bret Michaels is (or was) the lead singer of Poison - you know, big hair band, eyeliner, drugs, etc. It is quite possible that some of you may not have been able to listen to Poison because again, like me, your parents probably thought that they were Satan worshippers (although c'mon, Every Rose Has its Thorn? One of the best rock ballads of all time - I danced to it with my 7th grade boyfriend in Kevin Crandall's basement - yes!!) Apparently Bret, who is on the road a lot and loves to party, has had a difficult time finding that one special woman to call his own. Now seriously, is this a surprise? You're in concert every night, women are throwing their underwear at you, you have an unlimited supply of vodka and whiskey and through the haze of marijuana that you have been smoking all night you can't find the woman that you want to spend the rest of your life with? Shocking.
So anyway, Bret has decided to follow in the very classy shoes of Flavor Flav (who I am proud to say, I never watched) and decided to star in a reality show similar to The Bachelor - except that he has added to the Bachelorette house an unlimited supply of vodka and beer and I'm not positive, but it seems like one of the requirements just might be that the women are required to dance around in their underwear at least once a day. So far, there have been a lot of tears over the fact that Bret has made out with all of the girls at one point or another leaving someone with hurt feelings, and there is a lot of cattiness over who has real breasts and who has fake as well as whether or not being a stripper makes you a "ho." Hmmm...good questions.
OK, so I'm making fun, but there is something completely addicting about watching tacky drunk girls cry because Bret slipped someone else the tongue and they only got a peck. Maybe, I like watching because afterward I feel so much better about myself knowing that I would never be caught dead trying to get Bret Michaels into bed - especially on TV. And then again, maybe I just like it because it makes me laugh and gives me something to watch that I don't have to think too hard about...I don't have to call in my vote or become emotionally attached to one of the contestants and then become heartbroken when they are voted off (think Daughtry or Melinda Doolittle). So OK, I confess, it's tacky, it's tasteless, it's just plain wrong...but I love to watch it - and next Sunday night, when there is another episode and two more girls go home, completely shocked that they haven't made a connection even though they've spent countless hours in a liplock with a hopeless badboy, I'll cuddle up with Chris and feel a little better about myself knowing that at least I didn't have to throw my underwear on stage to get my husband to marry me. Until next time...
Lots of Love from the Florida Chick
Florida Chick goes to the Beach
The arrival of Memorial Day seems to always announce the unofficial beginning of Summer. The calendar still says Spring, and school is not quite out, but really... watermelon, corn on the cob and the opening of seasonal ice cream stores are really what Summer is all about, so unofficially...it's here! Down here in Florida, it seems that Summer is a year round season. The temperature drifts from the low 70's in December to Hotter than Hades in the Summer... but really, it doesn't change all that much and unlike in the North, tourist season is over, so it's relatively quiet in this neck of the woods - apparently with the exception of Memorial Day - when all of the locals come out of hiding, and really, only one thing can be said..."Put some clothes on Miami!!"
I have to say that in general, Hollywood Beach is a very family friendly beach. There is South Beach to the, well, South and Fort Lauderdale to the North so Hollywood (which is right in the middle) has fallen into the laid back, friendly spot for families and senior citizens...and that's really the problem, see, I personally don't think that Senior Citizens should be wearing thongs in public. (Yes, you heard me correctly). Actually, I really don't think that anyone should wear thongs in public - remember the workout fad of the 80's with the thongs and the spandex - I'm sorry, but the public thong is just not flattering - not on a 1980's aerobics instructor, and not on a 70 year old man, no one wants to see wrinkled, pasty, buns while sunning themselves on the beach - frankly, it's an unneccessary visual that is very hard to get rid of.
I also don't think that the string bikini was designed for workouts. First of all running shoes with a swimsuit make an odd combination (followed by the combinations of swimsuits and rollerblades, swimsuits and bicycle helmets, and swimsuits and skateboards). I can understand the sturdy speedo brand swimsuit top with running shorts so as to not sweat as much while working out...but the string bikini? Please, that is just an accident waiting to happen - either by the runner (rollerblader, skater, etc.) who has an escaped body part and gives herself a black eye, or by someone watching who accidently walks into a wall while waiting for an escaped body part to cause the black eye - seriously, it's a no-win situation.
Finally, and I know this is a sensitive issue, but please, a two piece should not be worn, if your stomach hangs so far over your bottoms, that people don't know you are wearing any...find a one-piece. There are millions of magazine articles every year that give various flattering swimsuits for all body types...and not one of them has ever said that the itsy bitsy, teeny weeny, yellow polka dot bikini should be worn by someone who can hide their suit underneath their belly - no! It shouldn't happen - and really, I have to wonder, which clothing company actually decided to make their bikini in a size 52?
I know, I know...I'm being judgmental. But the truth is, I know I'm not perfect so I try my hardest to cover it up. I wouldn't be caught dead in a public thong because no one really needs to know what my rear end looks like. I definately don't want anyone watching me closely when I work out just in case my swimsuit loses control (also because I tend to stop to walk when I'm supposed to be running) and while I do wear a two piece to the beach, at this point everyone can still see both halves and it pretty much covers up most of the dimples and flappies that need to remain hidden. So, in an effort to make Hollywood Beach a better place for the community, I once again offer this advice... Put some clothes on, Miami!!
Lots of Love from the Florida Chick...welcome to Summer!
I have to say that in general, Hollywood Beach is a very family friendly beach. There is South Beach to the, well, South and Fort Lauderdale to the North so Hollywood (which is right in the middle) has fallen into the laid back, friendly spot for families and senior citizens...and that's really the problem, see, I personally don't think that Senior Citizens should be wearing thongs in public. (Yes, you heard me correctly). Actually, I really don't think that anyone should wear thongs in public - remember the workout fad of the 80's with the thongs and the spandex - I'm sorry, but the public thong is just not flattering - not on a 1980's aerobics instructor, and not on a 70 year old man, no one wants to see wrinkled, pasty, buns while sunning themselves on the beach - frankly, it's an unneccessary visual that is very hard to get rid of.
I also don't think that the string bikini was designed for workouts. First of all running shoes with a swimsuit make an odd combination (followed by the combinations of swimsuits and rollerblades, swimsuits and bicycle helmets, and swimsuits and skateboards). I can understand the sturdy speedo brand swimsuit top with running shorts so as to not sweat as much while working out...but the string bikini? Please, that is just an accident waiting to happen - either by the runner (rollerblader, skater, etc.) who has an escaped body part and gives herself a black eye, or by someone watching who accidently walks into a wall while waiting for an escaped body part to cause the black eye - seriously, it's a no-win situation.
Finally, and I know this is a sensitive issue, but please, a two piece should not be worn, if your stomach hangs so far over your bottoms, that people don't know you are wearing any...find a one-piece. There are millions of magazine articles every year that give various flattering swimsuits for all body types...and not one of them has ever said that the itsy bitsy, teeny weeny, yellow polka dot bikini should be worn by someone who can hide their suit underneath their belly - no! It shouldn't happen - and really, I have to wonder, which clothing company actually decided to make their bikini in a size 52?
I know, I know...I'm being judgmental. But the truth is, I know I'm not perfect so I try my hardest to cover it up. I wouldn't be caught dead in a public thong because no one really needs to know what my rear end looks like. I definately don't want anyone watching me closely when I work out just in case my swimsuit loses control (also because I tend to stop to walk when I'm supposed to be running) and while I do wear a two piece to the beach, at this point everyone can still see both halves and it pretty much covers up most of the dimples and flappies that need to remain hidden. So, in an effort to make Hollywood Beach a better place for the community, I once again offer this advice... Put some clothes on, Miami!!
Lots of Love from the Florida Chick...welcome to Summer!
Florida Chick in Love
Well, it's official - 10 years ago today I was a stressed out bag of nerves getting ready for my rehearsal dinner and wondering if I was really ready to spend the rest of my life with one person. I'm not sure whether or not I was really ready, but here we are, three cities, two kids and a whole lot of craziness later.
Most of you know that I'm always up for a celebration, and since I'm not able to throw an anniversary sleepover (my personal choice for celebrating anything!) I thought I'd just let you in on all that has changed (and all that really hasn't) in the past 10 years.
1. Then: I was coaching gymnastics and taking classes at Grand Valley State. Now: I am coaching gymnastics and studying for a State Certification Exam at Broward Community College.
2. Then: We lived with 2 dogs and 2 cats with the names Alex, Haley, Katie & Tommy. Now: We live with a mixture of kids and animals with the names Alex, Haley, Kaitlyn & Tommy. (Carson seems to be the only child not named after a pet - sorry kids!)
3. Then: We lived in my parent's house while they were in Europe and rented out ours. Now: We live in my parent's house and are looking for renters for ours.
4. Then: We laughed a lot, cried a lot and loved to make up. Now: I laughed this morning, cried yesterday afternoon, and am definitely looking forward to making up tonight.
A lot of things have stayed the same but the best thing about growing older together is that every year gets better than the one before. I have a husband who buys the worst gifts imaginable, holds his spoon like a caveman, and forgets to balance the checkbook - but the one thing I know for sure is that I wouldn't want to be anywhere else but in his arms. Tomorrow, I'm celebrating 10 years with him, and the truth is, I can't wait to celebrate 10 more! Happy Anniversary to me! (And for all of you Michiganders - I'll hold a celebration sleepover when I get home - yay!)
Lots of Love from a somewhat mushy Florida Chick!
Most of you know that I'm always up for a celebration, and since I'm not able to throw an anniversary sleepover (my personal choice for celebrating anything!) I thought I'd just let you in on all that has changed (and all that really hasn't) in the past 10 years.
1. Then: I was coaching gymnastics and taking classes at Grand Valley State. Now: I am coaching gymnastics and studying for a State Certification Exam at Broward Community College.
2. Then: We lived with 2 dogs and 2 cats with the names Alex, Haley, Katie & Tommy. Now: We live with a mixture of kids and animals with the names Alex, Haley, Kaitlyn & Tommy. (Carson seems to be the only child not named after a pet - sorry kids!)
3. Then: We lived in my parent's house while they were in Europe and rented out ours. Now: We live in my parent's house and are looking for renters for ours.
4. Then: We laughed a lot, cried a lot and loved to make up. Now: I laughed this morning, cried yesterday afternoon, and am definitely looking forward to making up tonight.
A lot of things have stayed the same but the best thing about growing older together is that every year gets better than the one before. I have a husband who buys the worst gifts imaginable, holds his spoon like a caveman, and forgets to balance the checkbook - but the one thing I know for sure is that I wouldn't want to be anywhere else but in his arms. Tomorrow, I'm celebrating 10 years with him, and the truth is, I can't wait to celebrate 10 more! Happy Anniversary to me! (And for all of you Michiganders - I'll hold a celebration sleepover when I get home - yay!)
Lots of Love from a somewhat mushy Florida Chick!
Florida Chick Celebrates Mother's Day
I'm going to be honest here...and it's going to get ugly...but honestly, I hate Mother's Day. OK, there, I said it. Fortunately I didn't get hit by lightning or attacked by a Hallmark employee by giving this confession, but honestly, I just really, really hate it.
I'm going to blame this holiday aversion on the media. No matter that I have never, and don't plan on ever, wearing the Starburst Sparkle Pendant from Kay Jeweler, there is something slightly disappointing about waking up on Mother's Day and realizing that there is no velvet jewelry box with a giant bow calling your name. The local news is no better. I woke on Mother's Day to the smiling face of our local news anchor Jackie Nespral who declared that she hoped each and every mother out there was watching her while eating breakfast in bed. "No Jackie!" I wanted to yell, "I'm actually making breakfast for my kids at the moment!" And seriously, have you ever tried to eat breakfast in bed? It is not only difficult but slightly boring if your family makes you breakfast and then runs out of the room to go watch cartoons. I know, I know, I'm being fiesty - selfish and narcissistic even, but really, if you are going to call it Mother's Day, then mothers around the world (or 1246 Madison St. as it were) have the right to hold on to certain expectations. Anyway, in an effort to create a better holiday in the future I am implementing a few rules for my husband - here they are:
1. Do not, ever, buy me a card that you a)haven't first read OR b)don't really mean. For example, the card with the fuzzy mouse on the front that asks for more cuddle time (true story) was not a good choice. First of all, fuzzy mice belong on cards for children under the age of 10 and second, cuddle time has never been something that anyone (i.e. husband) has wanted more of, causing this mother to exclaim, "This was obviously the last card available" before throwing it away.
2. The kids' school Mother's Day cards/projects should not be the only gift given on Mother's Day morning. This is to be considered a gift from the children's teacher (probably also a mother) to the children's mother and not a suitable replacement for a gift from the children's father to their mother.
3. Mother's Day is a day for celebrating mothers and (especially for stay at home moms) does not mean that mom should spend one-on-one time with kids for 12 hours - otherwise it would be called Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday or Friday - and it's not...it's called Mother's Day!
I know, I know. Harsh, mean, selfish, blah, blah, blah. But truth be told, I'm fed up with Hallmark making the Mother's Day rules and so I'm taking them into my own hands. After my seventh Mother's Day, I'm finally laying down the rules - and next year, I'm going to follow in my sister's footsteps who celebrated Mother's Day by heading out to the spa for a pedicure and followed it with a shopping spree for new shoes, how perfect is that - add me a Starbucks latte and let's celebrate!
Lots of Love From the Florida Chick - Happy Mother's Day!!
I'm going to blame this holiday aversion on the media. No matter that I have never, and don't plan on ever, wearing the Starburst Sparkle Pendant from Kay Jeweler, there is something slightly disappointing about waking up on Mother's Day and realizing that there is no velvet jewelry box with a giant bow calling your name. The local news is no better. I woke on Mother's Day to the smiling face of our local news anchor Jackie Nespral who declared that she hoped each and every mother out there was watching her while eating breakfast in bed. "No Jackie!" I wanted to yell, "I'm actually making breakfast for my kids at the moment!" And seriously, have you ever tried to eat breakfast in bed? It is not only difficult but slightly boring if your family makes you breakfast and then runs out of the room to go watch cartoons. I know, I know, I'm being fiesty - selfish and narcissistic even, but really, if you are going to call it Mother's Day, then mothers around the world (or 1246 Madison St. as it were) have the right to hold on to certain expectations. Anyway, in an effort to create a better holiday in the future I am implementing a few rules for my husband - here they are:
1. Do not, ever, buy me a card that you a)haven't first read OR b)don't really mean. For example, the card with the fuzzy mouse on the front that asks for more cuddle time (true story) was not a good choice. First of all, fuzzy mice belong on cards for children under the age of 10 and second, cuddle time has never been something that anyone (i.e. husband) has wanted more of, causing this mother to exclaim, "This was obviously the last card available" before throwing it away.
2. The kids' school Mother's Day cards/projects should not be the only gift given on Mother's Day morning. This is to be considered a gift from the children's teacher (probably also a mother) to the children's mother and not a suitable replacement for a gift from the children's father to their mother.
3. Mother's Day is a day for celebrating mothers and (especially for stay at home moms) does not mean that mom should spend one-on-one time with kids for 12 hours - otherwise it would be called Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday or Friday - and it's not...it's called Mother's Day!
I know, I know. Harsh, mean, selfish, blah, blah, blah. But truth be told, I'm fed up with Hallmark making the Mother's Day rules and so I'm taking them into my own hands. After my seventh Mother's Day, I'm finally laying down the rules - and next year, I'm going to follow in my sister's footsteps who celebrated Mother's Day by heading out to the spa for a pedicure and followed it with a shopping spree for new shoes, how perfect is that - add me a Starbucks latte and let's celebrate!
Lots of Love From the Florida Chick - Happy Mother's Day!!
Florida Chick on Lockdown
Seriously, I swear that stuff like this only happens in South Florida. I know that ever since Columbine all teachers, schools, and administation have rules and regulations, drills, and such for emergency situations - but I still can't imagine sweet little Grand Haven schools ever really being in lockdown - that's when I start to wonder what on Earth compelled me to taking a teaching job in Broward County, Florida.
It happened last Tuesday. There we were, minding our own buisiness, reading A Wrinkle in Time, when the intercom calmly but firmly advises us that we are under a lockdown...this is not a test. It's interesting to be in a classroom with 15 12-year olds who are all expecting you to be the calm one. It is also interesting to realize that if there happens to be a madman on campus you probably won't be in the newspapers as a hero...more like the headline would read, "Teacher breaks leg as she pushes students out of the way and jumps out a second story window trying to reach safety." I know you've seen the George Costanza/Fire episode...really, who here isn't a little bit like George but doesn't want to admit it.
Anyway...I was in lockdown. Fortunately I'm a rule breaker and I have my cell phone on at all times in my classroom. Chris called me to let me know that there was an escaped convict/police killer/armed and extremely dangerous running around Fort Lauderdale (oh, is that all?!) and his van had been left near our school. I wasn't really worried until the helicopters began circling our school and my students, who I forced to continue reading their sweet little novel, kept running to the windows to see what was going on. At one point one of my students yelled, "Ms. V...there's a guy in the yard next door...he's looking at us...maybe it's him...maybe he's going to get in and shoot us." Turns out, it was just the neighbor outside on a cigarette break.
ANYWAY, the guy was finally caught (thank goodness) but not before I played 532 games of hangman, answered 38 emails from concerned family members, the 6th graders graffittied my whiteboards with "I love Ms. V." in all the colors of the rainbow, and I allowed one game of tag (which was quickly ended when I realized someone might need first aid and wouldn't be able to leave the room.)
Teaching certainly is not what it used to be, but in the end, I'm grateful we are all safe...and this experience did in fact give me the opportunity to pick out the window, which I will push my students out of the way to get to, just in case it happens again...
Lots of Love!
It happened last Tuesday. There we were, minding our own buisiness, reading A Wrinkle in Time, when the intercom calmly but firmly advises us that we are under a lockdown...this is not a test. It's interesting to be in a classroom with 15 12-year olds who are all expecting you to be the calm one. It is also interesting to realize that if there happens to be a madman on campus you probably won't be in the newspapers as a hero...more like the headline would read, "Teacher breaks leg as she pushes students out of the way and jumps out a second story window trying to reach safety." I know you've seen the George Costanza/Fire episode...really, who here isn't a little bit like George but doesn't want to admit it.
Anyway...I was in lockdown. Fortunately I'm a rule breaker and I have my cell phone on at all times in my classroom. Chris called me to let me know that there was an escaped convict/police killer/armed and extremely dangerous running around Fort Lauderdale (oh, is that all?!) and his van had been left near our school. I wasn't really worried until the helicopters began circling our school and my students, who I forced to continue reading their sweet little novel, kept running to the windows to see what was going on. At one point one of my students yelled, "Ms. V...there's a guy in the yard next door...he's looking at us...maybe it's him...maybe he's going to get in and shoot us." Turns out, it was just the neighbor outside on a cigarette break.
ANYWAY, the guy was finally caught (thank goodness) but not before I played 532 games of hangman, answered 38 emails from concerned family members, the 6th graders graffittied my whiteboards with "I love Ms. V." in all the colors of the rainbow, and I allowed one game of tag (which was quickly ended when I realized someone might need first aid and wouldn't be able to leave the room.)
Teaching certainly is not what it used to be, but in the end, I'm grateful we are all safe...and this experience did in fact give me the opportunity to pick out the window, which I will push my students out of the way to get to, just in case it happens again...
Lots of Love!
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