Wanda Says…Jumping rope is hard.

October 22, 2014 / Wanda / 6 Comments

In my never-ending quest to bring sexy back, I’ve been trying to incorporate some oldies but goodies in my workout routine. I still haven’t mastered the jumping jack, but to be honest, after my last humiliating attempt and fail at that childhood standard, I haven’t put much effort into it.

And recently, my fellow blogger, Elizabetcetera at da Vinci Total Hysterectomy 2014, encouraged me to try jumping rope. She assured me the experience would not be at all similar to my experiences using the jump rope as a child. And she was absolutely correct.

After attempting to jump rope during my workout today, all I can say is that gravity is an asshole.

I was able to jump rope, but half the time I couldn’t get both feet up off the ground fast enough and I ended up tripping on the rope with one foot while the other cleared it. And forget the continuous jump-bouncing of the past. Now I remember why teenage girls typically lose interest in jumping rope after going through puberty. Even with a sports bra on, my boobs kept trying to spring up and slap me in the face. Not cool, girls. Not cool at all.

I’d like to be all ‘I’m not a quitter,’ and tell you that I won’t stop until I master the beast, but the truth is that I am totally quitting this. I have no interest in doing that again, ever.

Wanda Says…Have you checked your spam folder lately?

October 17, 2014October 17, 2014 / Wanda / 9 Comments

Have you ever really examined the contents of your spam folder? I have Yahoo as my personal email provider, and I’ve heard they’re the worst for spam. It’s probably true, given the high quantity of suggestive advertisements sent to me on a regular basis. I never open the emails, but I do get some entertainment from reading the email titles.

My favorite and most reoccurring spam is from the Local Sluts. I’m always getting emails from the Local Sluts, asking me to join. This is a real thing, people. I’m not making it up.

What makes me laugh about this is that I had no idea the local sluts were so organized. I also had no idea they were recruiting publicly. I always assumed that trade to be more of a back alley sort of thing. But no more! The sluts have gone public and they want your membership!

I am curious what they do at their meetings, though. Do they meet at the library? Do they have membership tiers, discuss recruitment and offer incentives for bringing in new members? Like, if you sign up four new sluts, do you get a bonus or a prize? And what does it mean to be a Local Slut? I have so many questions, but I have a feeling they make you actually show up to the meeting before they dish about the details. Just like those assholes who sell timeshares. They make you sit through two hours of property sales pitches before they give you your two free movie tickets.

And I’m the most non-slutty person there is. I’d never pass the slut test. I don’t even know how to flirt properly anymore. My idea of flirting is to waggle my eyebrows at my husband and smack him on the ass as I walk by. Also, I don’t look good in short skirts and stilettos. I’m more of a Capri pants and cardigan twin set kind of girl. I can rock a pony tail and sweat pants all day long, but a skin tight mini-dress…not so much.

I just realized I’m being very unfair to the Local Sluts. I’m making assumptions about what they wear based on the name of their group, and that’s wrong. Maybe sluts don’t even dress slutty anymore. Maybe they wear mom clothes! Oh my God! That’s why they’ve been trying to contact me so aggressively! They’ve seen me out in my yoga pants and baggy t-shirts, and I had no idea this was the new hot! I’ve been flaunting myself all over Target, and the grocery store, and the neighborhood, giving the impression that my mommy hotness was somehow up for a membership grab, and those sluts have been going crazy trying to recruit me!

Fortunately for me, I’m not looking to make any major career moves right now. Some time ago, when I was contemplating what I wanted to do with the rest of my life, I asked my daughter what she thought I would be good at. She said, “You’re good at speaking, and snuggling, and loving.” I told her I couldn’t make a career out of those things and she asked me why. So I told her that one, the only career suited to those qualities went against my moral code, and two, Daddy would have a problem with it. She had no idea what I was talking about (thank God) and looked at me like I was a few sandwiches short of a picnic.

Anyway, the bottom line is that I’m currently unavailable and uninterested in becoming a member of the Local Sluts. I would say that I’m flattered by the invitation, but that would be a lie. Thanks for all the effort folks, but please direct your emails to more interested parties. If I was single, and even a little bit slutty……nope, not even then.

Wanda Says…On my daughter’s opinion of French kissing.

October 15, 2014 / Wanda / 8 Comments

Last night my ten year old daughter came into my room to say good-night to me, and she initiated a conversation about some new and enlightening things she learned at school that day.

Although I ask her every day how school went and what fun things happened, she often waits until right before bed to share the juicier, more dramatic details, which pretty much guarantees I won’t be sleeping through the night, because I’ll be having nightmares about how she’s growing up too fast.

The conversation went like this:

Bryn: Oh my gosh, Mom! I forgot to tell you what I learned at school today!

Me: What was that?

Bryn: Well, during recess, my friends and I were talking, and you’re never going to believe this! My friend said that there’s this thing called French kissing, and that means that two people kiss with their tongues! Like lizards, Mom! They wrap their tongues together like lizards! And guess what?! It’s true!! People really do that!

Me: (starting to sweat)

Bryn: And guess what else! In France, there are beaches where people don’t wear their clothes! They go to the beach naked, Mom!!! Can you believe that? (she dissolves into hysterical giggles and laughter) Have you ever heard of these things?

Me: (sigh) Bryn, I promised you I would always be honest with you, so yes, I have heard of these things and they are all true. Except nude beaches aren’t limited to France. Many countries have beaches where clothing is optional. I also have to tell you that I’m not sure I’m ready for you to know about this stuff yet. I’m not ready for you to know about French kissing and nude beaches.

Bryn: I know, Mom. (she kisses me on the cheek to console me)

Me: What did you think when your friend told you about this stuff?

Bryn: I think French kissing sounds disgusting! (she makes a sour face, a gagging noise and then pretends like she is throwing up)

Me: (Laughing) That’s the right attitude, sister! (she laughs with me and leaves the room)

I realize this is just the beginning. She will continue to grow up and discover new and exciting, and sometimes gross things about life, and people and relationships. Soon, in her health education classes, she will learn about sex and reproduction and how her body works. She will also learn about boys, and it won’t matter that I want to freeze time and keep her my little girl forever.

I also realize that this means raising children is going to turn me into an alcoholic, and I need to join a wine club so I can stock the house and get a discount on that shit, because I’m going to need a lot of it.

Wanda Says…Losing weight is hard.

October 11, 2014 / Wanda / Leave a comment

In a recent post (Move your ass, sister!) I talked about some of my challenges with physical fitness and weight loss over the years. I also discussed how in recent months I’ve overcome some of my motivational barriers and begun working out regularly.

I’m still working out six days a week and surprisingly, I’m enjoying it. I like the way I look after a workout, all covered in sweat and red in the face. It’s validation that I worked hard. I feel my body getting stronger in some ways, especially through my arms, and I am definitely less fatigued throughout the day and have more energy. However, I’m losing weight at a snail’s pace, and it’s incredibly frustrating.

When I first started increasing my workouts, in the first two weeks I gained four pounds. Four fucking pounds! Everyone said, “Oh, don’t worry, you’re probably just gaining muscle. This happens.” Despite the fact that I was calorie counting and working out daily, these four pounds just sat there, shaming me every time I got on the scale. After a couple of weeks the scale began to slowly eek its way down, a half-pound at a time. To date, I’ve lost those four pounds, but only those four pounds over a nine week period. At this pace, I need to change Operation Hot by 40 to Operation-Hot-By-The- Time-You-Stop-Giving-A- Fuck-About-Being-Hot.

I talked to my doctor and she didn’t have answers for me. I’m very healthy and my bloodwork is always great. The logical answer is for me to look at my diet, and admittedly, I could be making some better choices. But I will never be that girl who can survive on salad and lemon water. I enjoy food, and while I understand calorie counting and calorie quality is important, I believe in moderation versus elimination. I know from experience that if I’m too extreme in my diet or calorie reduction, it will just set me up for failure. I start to feel sick and lethargic for days, and then ultimately throw the diet out the window out of frustration and physical misery.

More importantly, I get cranky and snappish when I’m hungry. Have you spent time with super thin people who don’t eat? They’re assholes! And they should be crabby because they’re starving! Living in LA, you hear about this stuff all the time. It’s really popular for people to take appetite suppressants or other drugs to help control their weight, because God forbid, if your thigh is wider than your arm, California may just kick you out for not conforming to the standard. If there’s some actress or model throwing a fit on set because her imported bottled water isn’t the right temperature, I guarantee you she probably isn’t really a bitch as much as she just needs a sandwich.

I know liquid diets are really popular these days, too. That’s one thing I will never be able to wrap my head around. I don’t know about you, but when I’m hungry I want to feel like I really ate something. I want to chew my food. I love the flavor and texture and aroma of good food. I can’t just choke down a green shake made from ten kinds of lettuce that tastes like horse piss and feel even remotely satisfied. Can you?

A girlfriend of mine tried this diet where she had a list of all these different drinks she had to rotate through in a day. It was so complicated everything had to be written down to keep track, and there was a different mix or shake you had to take every hour or two. And then for dinner she could have a small salad with an ounce of chicken. An ounce of chicken! That’s like two bites! But I would call her to offer support and encouragement because that’s what friends do. She can usually make it to day three or four before she goes crazy and eats an entire pizza by herself out of desperation, and honestly, who could blame her?

I just can’t live like that, but I know that I have to find a balance between my diet and exercise if I’m going to make this work, and I feel like if I don’t get this right, all the hard work I’ve done so far will be for nothing. I’ve recently started a new diet I found floating around Facebook. It requires me to eat five small meals a day with a lot of protein, vegetables and whole foods only. I’m on day four and so far I’m not starving and I don’t have the urge to kill people. In my book, that’s a win!

PS–If it goes well, I’ll do a follow up post to share the details of the program. 🙂

Wanda Says…What happens on the island, stays on the island. Mostly.

October 9, 2014 / Wanda / 5 Comments

Last weekend my husband and I went to Catalina Island for a wedding. Yeah, it wasn’t rough.

One of Dan’s fraternity brothers from college was getting married, and although it was a small wedding, the list of people invited ensured that the weekend would involve three days of organized hilarity and madness, which is just what this newly-turned 40 year old, sometimes depressed stay-home mom needed.

The weekend was fantastic! You have to take a boat or helicopter from one of the ports in and around southern California to reach the island. It’s about an hour and twenty minute trip by boat. On our trip out there, our boat was escorted by a large school of dolphins. It was incredible! The dolphins played and danced in the waves alongside the boat, and stayed with us for several miles. There were baby dolphins as well, and my husband was hanging off the side of the boat to capture these pictures.

The island is very small, so cars are a rarity and you either walk everywhere or rent golf carts. We stayed at a beautiful hotel located on the main street, ate fresh seafood at restaurants overlooking the bay, and the Catalina Air Show provided some very exciting entertainment. Planes of all varieties were swooping and diving, skimming the water as the pilots showed off their mad skills. The most exciting moments though were when an F-18 fighter jet practiced maneuvers over the island as part of the show. I can honestly tell you, that was some sexy shit. When that jet flew overhead, the noise was deafening, the walls of the restaurant rattled and every cell in my body jumped to attention. I kept looking around, waiting for Maverick and Goose to stroll into the bar so I could buy them a beer.

It was a Sunday wedding, and Mimosas were served on the lawn overlooking the bay with palm trees and blue skies as far as the eye could see. It was truly an incredible place to get married.

I had planned to write a very detailed blog post, sharing all the bad behavior and drama that ensued over the weekend. Then I realized some of our friends might not appreciate that, because you know, what happens on the island….

So out of respect for our friends, I will refrain from posting any embarrassing stories or moments that could be traced back to the not-so-innocent. But I will share this one tiny little bit of detail…while partying at the bar after the wedding, SOMEONE licked the chest, and chest hair, of the guy who officiated the wedding. After observing this icky display of drunken madness, I looked at my husband and said, “That dude is not a man of God.”

Wanda Says…Do these wrinkles make me look wrinkly?

September 30, 2014September 30, 2014 / Wanda / 2 Comments

Lately I’ve been having a lot of facial skin issues and it’s stressing me out. I’m a firm believer in rocking what you’ve got, and my good skin has always been an asset that I don’t mess around with. I buy good skin care products, wash my face every day and moisturize.

I don’t know if it’s my hormones, but the texture of my face right now is similar to that of a 13-year old girl. I haven’t had to buy Clearasil since I was a freshman in college. Last week, I had to go buy a tube of that shit, and guess what? It doesn’t work! It’s like I have mutated, zit cream resistant acne. I had to go through puberty once to become a woman, and now I have to go through it twice to become an older woman? WTF?

Now let’s talk about all the wrinkles and lines that have appeared on my face in the past month or so. It’s like I just woke up one morning with crow’s feet and saggy eyelids.

I’m pretty conservative with makeup during the week since I’m usually home with my kids. If my husband and I have a date or plans to go out with friends, I will wear more makeup, depending on the occasion. But I’ve noticed lately that even my makeup is aging me. For example, any eye-shadow with a shimmer to it makes me look like an old hooker. And despite the fact that I don’t wear a ton of makeup, when I do it’s like it just settles into all the lines in my face, making me look like one of those Shar Pei dogs. (And if you’ve been reading my blog from its inception, you know how I feel about being compared to dogs!)

So today I went to Sephora seeking the advice and support from cosmetic and skin care professionals. I’m typically leery of asking for help in that store, because it’s so easy for them to ply you with over-priced makeup and products, convincing you that you need all this crazy stuff if you want to be beautiful. It can be overwhelming, and I’m already vulnerable and feeling insecure about my appearance. Today, I was their perfect customer. It went like this:

Me: Hi. I need help (cringe) picking out some new foundation. The one I’ve been using is a powder and it’s making my fine lines appear worse.

Sales Girl: Are you wearing a primer?

Me: No. What’s a primer?

SG: Well, that is part of your problem! (She parks me in front of the makeup mirror and hands me a makeup remover towel). Clean all the makeup off your face and we will start from scratch!

Me: (thinking, “Oh Fuck! I’m in for it now!”)

SG: We are going to start with something called a Truth Serum! This is a fantastic product that has Vitamin C and it’s essential for hydration, brightening the skin, anti-aging and protection. You will love this, and the small bottle is only $48.00! Don’t you just love that citrus scent? It’s so refreshing! Now I am going to apply this moisturizer, and then some makeup primer. The primer fills in all the lines and wrinkles. It’s basically like spackle for your face! Isn’t that fantastic! Oh, look how much better you look already! Now we will apply some foundation…whah, whah, whah, whah, whah, whah (to be read like the adult voices in all the Charlie Brown shows.)

And what’s sad is that I’m so desperate to resolve these skin issues and get back to normal, I allowed myself to drink the Kool-Aid. I allowed myself to be worn down emotionally by a barely 22 year old girl with no wrinkles wearing enough makeup to make her look like a clown, or an extra in an 80’s Robert Palmer video. I’m not proud.

I walked out of there with a whole new skin care system (including the Truth Serum), Mark Jacobs foundation, fancy makeup primer (spackle) and new mascara for just under $200.00. My silver lining is that Sephora has a great return policy. If it doesn’t work or you don’t like it, and you’ve used less than 50% of the product and have your receipt, you can return anything. It sort of takes the sting out of buying a $30.00 tube of spackle. 🙂

Wanda Says…On my daughter’s opinion of chest hair.

September 26, 2014 / Wanda / 6 Comments

I took the kids to their swim lesson this afternoon, and on the way there I explained to them that they have a new swim instructor. The conversation went like this:

Bryn: Who’s the new teacher?

Me: His name is Stephen.

Bryn: A boy?! Will he be wearing a shirt in the pool?

Me: I don’t know. Why do you ask?

Bryn: Ugh, Mom! (eye roll) Chest hair! Blech!!!!!!!!!!

Me: (laughing my ass off)

Bryn: I don’t want to touch his chest hair! That is so gross!

Me: (still laughing) 🙂

Wanda Says…Birthdays can be dangerous, I guess.

September 17, 2014 / Wanda / Leave a comment

My birthday is on Friday, and the customary cards have started rolling in from family and friends. I had to share this because it was funny, and I would rather think about funny shit than the fact that I will be 40 on Friday.

A card came yesterday from one of my grandmothers, and she inserted this little gem into the card.

I’m guessing she accidentally sent this instead of the customary check for $10.00. Well, knowledge is power, so I guess having nine months advanced warning of National Safety Month is a gift, in and of itself.

Thanks Grandma! 🙂

Wanda Says…The Hormone Guide–How To Speak To Women

September 15, 2014September 23, 2014 / Wanda / 4 Comments

My neighbor and dear friend sent me this funny chart today. We laughed, and then we added a few of our own “safest” comments. They went like this…

That whole dirty, un-showered look you’ve got going on? You rock that shit, baby.

Is that new perfume, or do I just love the way you smell after you haven’t washed your hair in two days?

It’s perfectly fine that you’ve been wearing the same yoga pants for three days. I know, they are so versatile!

Oh, don’t worry about not having time to do my laundry this week. I’ll just go buy new underwear on my way to work tomorrow. It’s no big deal!

That spit-up on your shirt doesn’t smell offensive at all. It smells really organic and fresh.

You look great with your hair up in that messy knot everyday. I don’t miss your clean, untangled hair, at all.

If you say so, then it must be hot as hell in here. Let me go put on a sweater and then I’ll crank up the AC.

You don’t need to shave your legs. Chewbacca is my favorite Star Wars character for a reason!

You’re right, honey! Chocolate goes with everything! 🙂

Wanda Says…I love coffee.

September 14, 2014 / Wanda / Leave a comment

I love my coffee in the morning. I’m addicted to it. The first thing I think of when I wake up each morning is that it’s time to have my coffee. It’s like a reward for getting out of bed.

This is the second morning in a row my kids have slept in and let me enjoy my coffee in peace. It’s heaven. The house is quiet. There’s just me and the dog, listening to the birds singing outside, while I stalk Facebook and contemplate my next blog post. This is a sign that God loves me and wants me to be happy.

Wait…..shit. They’re up. Never mind. 🙂