Brassieres
Specifically I am going to discuss the sports bra. At some point when women begin a more active lifestyle this is something that must be considered. And oh the time you will spend, the money you will spend, unless you are an A cup or less. Sorry you guys, it is what it is. And those of you that spent some time nursing the wee ones? You will have to keep focus during the hunt as well. You will also have to base the decision process on the type of activity you are interested in. Mostly I’m getting at, are you doing anything involving motion and bouncing like activities? You will have to lock those babies down. There are serious issues that could result otherwise. 1) It hurts. 2) It hurts to watch. 3) Gravity will take hold and there is just no hope.
Most sports bras fall into the same category, from A to ???. They are the uniboob bras. It’s like a tight, ill fitting, half tank top. It smushes the girls and you have this weird lump across the chest. If you are lucky enough to find one tight enough to lock them down, you won’t be able to breath and the back fat will be squished right out the back side. The A girls here can wear any cute lil thing from the TJMaxx clearance rack. The rest of us need to keep on the hunt. I’m not gonna lie, I want a cute one, too. I want one that doesn’t look like an industrial strength straight jacket from the back. (And I’ve had a couple of those.)
Once you find one that doesn’t mush the girls, or give you the godforbidden uniboob, and it holds you up just so and still allows you to breath, well then you have to get the damn thing on. I have one that has hooks and velcro straps. It took me entirely too long to figure out what the hell I was supposed to do with it. There is nothing pretty about getting it on either. You shake and shimmy and twist and turn. And still… it isn’t where it needs to be. I swear it is a workout just to get the damn thing on. But then… You have to get it off. A little sweat and some sore muscles and you have a recipe for disaster. If you are fortunate enough to have a child willing to help you out, you are golden. Otherwise, settle in for the fight and hope you don’t end up with your elbow smushed to your ear and the 3 year old thinking you are making up a new game.
Kisses
What is a kiss? A kiss is a hello. A goodbye. It is a promise. A kiss is reassurance. A kiss soothes an ache, a hurt, a scrape. It is a moment.
Moms kiss. Dads kiss. Siblings kiss. Friends kiss. Lovers kiss. We kiss the dog. The cat. A slobbery kiss on a window pane from a toddler is artwork to cherish. If you can kiss through morning breath, that is true love. There are good morning kisses and kisses before saying sweet dreams. We blow kisses and catch them mid-air. There are tender kisses, hard kisses, stolen kisses, eskimo kisses, and butterfly kisses.
A first kiss is so sweet and new. I was in the second grade and it was a peck on my cheek. The first time a boy slipped his tongue in my mouth I was in eighth grade and I thought, “Huh, what the heck is that all about?” I’ve kissed a few people I don’t care to ever kiss again. There are a few that I plan to kiss forever. A good kiss will make you swoon. It will make your day. It will sear itself into your brain.
A world without kisses would lack color and care. A kiss puts a spring in my step and a glow to my cheek. So get out there and kiss someone.
Texas Recall: Tequila & Powdered Donuts
There are many things about a trip to Texas that are awesome. There is family and laughter. Fart jokes and tequila shots. Texas Gold-n-Cheez day glo crackers and Mrs. Baird’s powdered donuts. They are unparalleled in softness and lack of chemical aftertaste you know.
There is the requisite trip to the King Ranch Saddle Shop. As my mom and sister and I stood on the threshold to the shop we exhaled in unison. Once we crossed over into the bliss we inhaled as deeply as possible in order to properly take in the glorious scent of leather. Please do not be offended my bovine loving friends.
My brother and his fiancé had their first wedding shower hosted by my parents. They received everything from A-Z, literally. It was an ABC shower. It was an impressive haul to begin their married life.
We enjoyed dinner on the bay. The food everywhere was fantastic. I wore flip flops for a week! In February! A pedicure made it even better.
Of course, a trip is never complete without a few snags. It started with reserving the wrong hotel. Not a huge issue but it messed with our schedule and our trip mojo. A near huge fucking catastrophe was standing at the ticket counter the next morning at 4AM. We have traveled for years on Southwest Airlines using the military discount. Last Friday they decided that reservists didn’t deserve that privilege anymore. For shits sake, Alan travels at least once a month on this fare. I have used it multiple times. But that ticket lady wasn’t having it. I spent several tense moments on the phone with Alan and valiantly trying to hold my ground at the counter. I refused to budge. We went round and round in circles for 30 - 40 minutes. Alan is making calls. I’m trying to keep myself together.. They finally tell me I can go. I immediately burst into tears. Composure flew out the window. The agent that had been arguing with me hopped over the scale to give ma a hug and apologize . In my devolving and bewildered state, I lacked the processing power to ask WTF?
The highlight of our trip occurred the last night. Ready? Jack fell off of a stool onto a brick patio and conked his noggin. Holding him I realized he was bleeding from a lovely gash in the back of his head. Time to find a doctor. Pee, hope in the car, grab a towel, and go. Quite a few tears later we have a head with 5 staples, a mom finally exhaling, a Naner with a headache, and an overwhelming need to get the hell out of Texas and go home. Yee Haw!
Until next time…
Hello...
Hello Luvva,
I missed you so. Did you miss me? You are more beautiful than I remember. The sounds coming from you thrill me. Your scent draws me in and I am flooded with memories. You intoxicate me with strength, power, and freedom.
Touching you sends quivers through my muscles. My breath quickens, my heart beat is steady and strong. Sweat rolls down the small of my back as we reunite with passion.
The separation was sheer agony, but I’m home now. I realize it will take some work between us to get back to the way things were before, but I am certain this relationship will be better and stronger than before. I will never forsake you again.
With much love,
Your adorable little gym rat
Bouncing
If I were allowed to be bouncing off the walls I certainly would be. The sun is shining. Yes! I want to go walk, run, dilly dally in the great outdoors. My muscles are twitching in anticipation of going to the gym. Squats, dead lifts, even the evil burpees are creating a yearning from my core. My core! Sit ups and push ups and pull ups! Oh my!
Forced relaxation is something. My mind cannot slow down even though my body must. I’m almost 3 weeks out and only 3 more weeks before I can really go wild. Each day I feel more normal, more whole. I get one day on and one day on the couch.
Having not been able to exercise I can definitely appreciate it so much more now. There will be no excuses. I have missed it. It keeps me sane. It keeps me healthy. It slows the spinning wheels in my head. And of course, I do love food and being able to eat my freaking cake and have it not stick to my back end is always bonus.
February
Day 2 into February and I’m in such a better place than last February. I’m a shy a few organs and a few friends richer. I’ve had surgery and I’m missing the gym terribly right now, but I have been showered by sunshine this winter. This is the best winter on record thus far for me here in Idaho. Come spring I will be hitting it hard and living it up. I cannot wait.
Day 2 in February is also the anniversary of the first date for Alan and I. There are weddings and birthdays that will be celebrated. Trips are planned. December and January flew by with all the hustle and bustle of holidays and health. I don’t necessarily want to things to slow too much but I certainly can use more time to savor my new attitude and all the things that will bring. I’m going to kick February’s ass.
I’m hanging on to the sunshine and riding it all the way.
The Mirlys Do 2011!
Wow!
What a fantastic year 2011 has been. I do hope you are all well and looking forward to the blessings that 2012 will surely be tossing your way. But before we get underway with this new year I thought you guys might like to hear the Mirly 2011 rundown.
Alan- The man was a studying fool the first half of 2011. Between work and his studies we barely saw him. Astronaut training is apparently pretty tough. And now he is heading off for a manned mission to Mars so who the hell knows how much we will see him in 2012 either.
Rian - The girl’s flair for the dramatics is finally paying off for us. She has auditioned for several tween/teen type movies and will soon be seen on the silver screen being paid to give the stink eye that she has honed so well on her family at home. We already have plans to properly siphon off funds to keep us in the cushy lifestyle to which we have become accustomed once we hit those crotchety years.
Finn- Our little social butterfly has taken the world by storm. With his innate knack to mesmerize and hypnotize every adult that crosses his path, he has been able to build quite the social network that will only make his venture into the world of business that much easier. His vending machine business was slow to take off but has spread like wildfire now. Everyone wants in on the action.
Jack - Oh my, where do I begin? He’s always been a daredevil. He is fast and has such amazing core strength. If he doesn’t’ continue his studies in extreme yoga, then he has a great future in a circus side show as the amazing planking preschooler.
Jena - Throughout this year, Jena has held on to her sanity as she encourages the members of her family in their many endeavors. She gave up the bakery business soon into 2011 but has a great future as a multitasking instructor. Her seminars draw harried homemakers from near and far.
We can’t leave off the furry members of the Mirly clan. They drool and shed and generally stink up the place, but they are so well trained they scoop their own poop. That was quite a training process but we are all really proud of them. We will soon be hiring them out as well.
We have really enjoyed being able to share our amazing accomplishments with all of you. If your year was not nearly as productive and fascinating as ours, don’t worry. There is always next year.
Shameful
Most of my friends know that I have a love for cute undies- lacy, racy, or otherwise. While I don’t flaunt the actual undergarments I most certainly let my friends know they should chuck those “granny panties” and upgrade their wardrobe. I am a firm believer that the lovely under-thing is not for the man in your life but for yourself! The first time I went out and bought my first stash of pretties, I took a picture of them and sent them to my mother. She dutifully took my advice and upgraded to the pretty panty as well.
However, I am slightly heart broken as of late because I have this new puppy with quite a nasty habit. He’s an underwear snatcher. This is where the really embarrassing part comes in. He only has a penchant for mine! I have now lost seven pretty panties. I even went out and bought a new hamper with a lid! The little shit still manages to find his way to MY undies. Yesterday I found the seventh pair in the yard. I do not even know how or when he pilfered them from the lidded hamper and snuck them out there.
This is an expensive habit indeed. Therefore, I am imploring all my friends and family to consider a very worthy cause… My panty drawer. Yes, this is a wee bit bold on my part, but hey it’s Christmas. I have a birthday coming up as well. I feel it important to let you know I am not a fan of the “word butt”. My derrière is not accustomed to being called “juicy”, “hot”, “princess”, or “bad girl”. It only appreciates pretty. My dear sister sent a pair once that makes me blush. Use your imagination and stay away from those. No, I will not describe them. If you don’t want to be caught in a locker room in them, don’t send them.
I thank you from the bottom of my heart… and my bottom. ;)
Woman
When Rian was little, around 2 I’d guess, I taught her to say the thing I wished most for her. I am a strong and powerful woman. When we were driving, with friends, hanging out at home, I would ask her. What kind of woman are you? Her response was always the same. I am a strong and powerful woman. Of course, it was insanely cute to see this button of a 2 year old parroting such a phrase. But I wanted that phrase to become ingrained in her. To seep into her soul and become a defining characteristic.
For myself, I think I lost sight of this for a while. I can never hope for my daughter to have such a view of herself if I, as one of her role models, forget this truth. I am a strong and powerful woman. Strong in both the physical sense, as well as, in conviction. Powerful, meaning that deep from within she is a force to be reckoned with. She knows herself. Trusts herself.
Remembering this always leads to that inner struggle of mine. Control. Seeking to control those around me and their behaviors, the outcomes, the rules, the consequences. This is not control. This is futile. The control experienced by a strong and powerful woman comes from within. Figuring that out took a freaking long time, but thank god I did. How I react, how I view my world, how I move about my daily life, that is how I maintain control. When I find this within myself, I have control.
Because I have the control, I get to choose. I choose who gets to be part of my life. And I get to choose who stays. I can choose to walk away from a friendship that isn’t working. I can choose to allow a new friend in. I can choose to be happy. I can choose to be sad. I can also choose when to let go and free fall.
Paper or Plastic?
Rock, paper, scissors?
Paper! Always fucking paper!
Draw… where? on the paper.
Wanna give me your number? write it down… where? on the paper. (or you can text it if you are iPhone compatible)
What lands on my front porch every morning? Paper!
What do I write my grocery list on? paper
What do I write letters on? paper
What do I wrap gifts with? paper
What is my wine bottle wrapped in when I leave the store? paper
Where should markers let loose with their color? paper
Where would I like that pretty circle with squiggly lines poking out? paper
Not on the walls, the carpet, the bedding, the chair, nor the floor, the couch, or even your face….
*note: to the person that dares to point out the fact that i have ended many a sentence with a preposition… send me a memo… on paper.*
what a difference a hormone makes
Yesterday the world was full of possibility. My children were adorable and well behaved. My husband was witty and charming. The furry babies were sweet and docile creatures lying by my feet.
Today the polka dots and roses are gone. All of the above is canceled out by the moaninghores. At first I just felt like I woke on the wrong side of the bed. Then the fact that the coffee did not perk me up, and everyone and everything continued to irritate the ever lovin’ shit out of me, I checked the calendar.
Bingo..
holy moly
I started 3 different entries… a sarcastic poem, another emotional diatribe, a recitation of the daily ins and outs of life in the Mirly household. Which is most exciting for you to hear? eh? Or I can leave it at this.
I have great kids, married to my best friend, making new friends, feeling more useful to the community at large, and I haven’t completely lost my mind… yet.
Slowly but surely I can just be me.
Rollin' Along
Time, it heals, or so they say. I had been feeling sorry for myself thinking I had lost my entire support system when I finally came to the conclusion that I have a pretty awesome support system. It certainly isn’t traditional, but it cannot discounted. I have people scattered far and wide across this country that I have known for YEARS. We may only communicate via the computer, but they are there. There are other folks I only get to talk to on the phone once in a while. They listen and love me as well. I know people that are only a text away and are there for me when I need them. I have met people that I want to get to know more. I might not ever have noticed those people if my eyes weren’t forced open. And to be super sappy… When it rains, it pours. But damn, it sure helps things to grow.
For now, my book is cracked. If only because I think it deserves to be shared.
Seizing a Moment
At soccer practice with Jack today I enjoyed watching his swagger. And boy does that kid have some swagger. He can strut his stuff. He is filled with awesome. He sauntered over to the ball, looked back over his shoulder, (I swear he winked at me) and then he kicked the ball down the field. He ran back to me, grabs my face in his hands, and says, “Mom, watch this!” And then he threw the ball hard overhead to his teammate. About 5 minutes after that he was done, hiding behind me and crying to go home. There is only so much sauntering about a 3 year old can do before it’s time to sit in Mom’s lap and cry. 
The really great part of the evening was when we were driving away and I pointed out the hundreds of birds congregating on the baseball fields. Jack thought they were pretty cool. When I asked him if he wanted to go chase them, he was ready. We parked. Ever so stealthily we crept toward the field. Some of those birds were a bit suspicious I am sure. And then I hollered, “RUN!” Hand in hand we ran screeching at the birds and they all took off overhead. Jack was squealing. I was laughing. It was a great moment.
Run Birdies Run (Please note: At the time these pictures were taken the birds had taken off and were giving us the stink eye from afar. However, Jack continued to run and holler at them. Atta boy!)
Finding My Awesome
I want to find the sense of awesome this lady describes in her blog. I want to make sure my kids feel that and continue to feel it every day. They will still have to scoop the poop, and I will continue to do the laundry. But I think we can find time for all sorts of good in between. The small step I take today is taking my sweet Finn out for lunch. He’s been asking for a date with me for a while now. We will be headed to McDonald’s of course. And I will be wearing my pearls. 
Seriously, is this not a happy kid? 
PS... on the way home he was letting me know how much he wanted a transformer. I thought he was referring to a Happy Meal transformer. Oh boy was I wrong. And it wrecked his day. And he was not so nice. And then I let him know you do not treat people you just went on a date with in such a manner. He quickly apologized for his error and let me know how much he loved me. cute little kiss-ass. I'll keep him a bit longer.
AGH
I cannot quite decide what to do with myself. It is almost like mourning the loss of a relationship that is not unlike the stereotypical “boy/girl” relationship. I can’t help it. I am fucking sad. (Mom, this is all you get. Do not ask any other questions. But I do love ya more than my shoes.)
When a trust is betrayed, what does one do to “get over it” and find their happy place again? Personally, I am fine with being away from the shitstorm, but I am so far from being fine when I realize my best friend, my confidant, is gone. They are AWOL, and I am SOL. (Nothing Mom. That goes for you, too Sis. I mean it.) I waffle from so freaking pissed off I could spit to sniffly and miserable. Then I get pissed at myself. Why? BECAUASE.I DO.NOT.LET.PEOPLE.IN.EVER! And this is just the kick in my ass that I needed to remind myself why.
Tomorrow I will get up. I will do my morning routine. I will go on the field work excursion. I will put on my goddamned happy face. I will continue on with my day. However, don’t expect me to do fucking cartwheels of joy.
Friends
Making friends is a part of life. It begins in preschool. Some people forge lifelong friendships from the very beginning. Others have friendships for certain seasons. There is the kid you were best friends with in second grade homeroom. But the next year, you have gone your separate ways. There are the friendships formed through a commonality. Mommies go to playgroups and meet other moms. There are people that form friendships because they work in the same office. But how many of these people are people you will still be talking to decades from now? How many of these people will get to that next level with you? Sure you can bitch about crazy kids, or the latest celebrity gossip, or get excited together about a new pair of shoes. But how many of those people make it that next level where you might share that you are having a bad day, as well as, why?
Trust is a huge part of any friendship. You trust that they are telling you the truth, that they are keeping your secrets, that they have your back. How do you make the leap from “just a friend” to a deeper relationship? How do you begin to trust someone? Is it slowly and over time? Is it something you are supposed to feel in your gut? There might be people I feel more drawn to than others, but that still doesn’t mean I’m ready to open more than a couple pages in my book for them.
And then sometimes it appears to just all line up. You just know. It feels right. You finally make that leap and decide to say fuck it and throw caution to the wind. Open yourself up and let them in to witness all the inner bits, those personal moments, the parts of you that are only shared with a handful of people, the good, the bad, and the really ugly. Maybe in an odd way it feels liberating. Such a bond with another person that isn’t your spouse, your parent, or a sibling. It can be amazing.
...Nevermind.
Still Alive
A few people have sent messages wondering why I haven’t written anything lately. Some have asked if I blocked them. Some ask if I am ok. Some just pester me, but in a nice way. I am still here. I am alive. I just have had so much on my mind lately. Some good. Some not so good. Sometimes when my brain gets so full it is easier to just keep it there than pop that cork.
I’ve had an ok summer. As usual, I didn’t get everything I wanted to get done accomplished. I’ve had some great fun. And some things that were not so fun. I’ve had ups and downs with friends. I’m working on some great fitness goals, and I have patted myself on the back for that. I bought new purple wedges. Gotta love a great shoe. I am that girl.
We have a new addition to the family. His name is Bob. He’s a labradoodle. He’s flipping cute and amazingly mild mannered where in the past I have only had experiences with psychotic fur balls from hell.
I’ll try not to be a stranger. Note: I can’t promise I won’t be a little strange though.
Love you all. Most of the time. ;)
Daddy's Shampoo
Often times, one of the things I do to save my sanity and some time is to toss both boys into my shower at the same time. It has an actual door that prevents water going everywhere and it is relatively cheap entertainment for them that rinses all the dirt off as well.
On more than one occasion the little trouble makers have emptied Alan’s shampoo. Tons of bubble fun for them. I have chastised and complained. Unfortunately, sometimes you just have to learn by natural consequences.
I overheard Finn say to his brother, “We need to be quiet so Mom doesn’t know. “ Uhh... this got my attention pretty quick. I ducked my head in there to see them covered from head to toe with Daddy’s shampoo. There were three reasons I didn’t want them messing with his shampoo. 1) Waste of money. 2) Because I said so. 3) Grown up shampoo burns the eyes like a sonofabitch.
In a matter of seconds, they figured this last bit out for themselves. Is it wrong that I laughed? I held them under the spray of the water, which only served to increase their screams and howls. But as quickly as I could, I rinsed the copious amounts of shampoo. I held their heads under the spray and wiped at their eyes.
They sure smelled good as I bundled them in their towels. Will they mess with Daddy’s shampoo again? I’m sure they will, but I doubt they will pour it all over their heads though.
Out of Shampoo
Note to self: Hide the shaving cream and the razors.