Why I'm Kinda Pissed About Dr.Oz and the Whole30

First off let me say, I am a supporter of the Whole30. I've tried it several times. Nearly made it all the way through before calling uncle. But it was enough to see the results. And I've done my Paleo dance for a few years. So this is in no way negative against the actual Whole9 program or Paleo lifestyle.

This is about selling out.

I get it. You want to reach millions more people and help them see the error of their ways. Lead them on the path to righteous eating. You've been featured on Good Morning America, Nightline, and many other news outlets and shows. You currently have the # 22 best selling health book on Amazon under Health, Fitness, & Dieting. It's a New York Times bestseller. You are making money and helping people.

But why?

Why Dr. Oz?

The man that touts everything as a miracle. A man that admitted that many of the things he promotes are scams. A man that probably never tries anything he features. A man that cares about nothing but money and success.

You are one step away from being Oprah's personal chefs while she gives this Whole30 thing a go.

I thought you were better than that. I thought you were pure. I thought Paleo and the Whole30 wouldn't be turned into some mass marketing consumerism monster.

I first read It Starts With Food in 2012. That was quite a long time before it was trendy to do a Whole30. And I've noticed recently the creators, Melissa and Dallas,  reprimanding people on social media for Paleofying foods and calling them Whole30 compliant. Well what do you think is going to happen when you take your amazing (yes I do think it is amazing) program to Dr. Oz and the like? No one is going to take you seriously anymore. I sure as heck don't. And allowing white potatoes to be Whole30? What??? I love white potatoes too but I can surely give them up for 30 days.

Don't make it easier on people.

Going on Dr. Oz just made it easier on people. Going on Dr. Oz was total SWYOP (sex with your pants on for those of you who don't know the program).

Remember what you said about drinking your coffee black? It's not that hard.

Well it isn't that hard to not let Dr. Mehmet Oz endorse your program.

Okay. Rant over.

Lucky

My husband likes to frequently point out that I live, in his opinion, a privileged life.

Like yesterday when he asked what we did. My reply was, "Well we went to the trampoline park, the plastic surgeon, and ate at Big Orange where we were spoiled by our server." His reply, "That's pretty much what you do everyday."

Ha. Ha. Ha.

Yes. I am pretty lucky. I have more freedom than most. But in my mind, I have created that freedom. I only work at our business on the weekends and only for a few hours at a time so that we are able to homeschool. Our small home based soap store doesn't require more than a few more hours a week out of me. I drive an older vehicle with no car payments so I have extra spending money. It was all part of my plan, I tell him, to be able to do what I want when I want. Which sounds selfish and spoiled and maybe it is, but 98% of my time is spent with my kids. Going and doing and learning and creating.

I didn't know how to take care of myself when I was younger. The realization that one must put on their own oxygen mask before helping others with theirs didn't hit me until recently. You have to take care of yourself. But in such a child driven world, taking care of oneself can appear selfish. What? You take time to go to the gym/go running/hiking/yoga class? Shame on you. You drove 3 hours to go to a children's program at the museum and maybe do a little shopping for yourself because you live in the middle of nowhere but still want to enrich your children and indulge in retail therapy? That is a waste of time and gas and aren't you lucky you can just take off and do those things in the middle of the day.

My children are with me constantly. And they don't realize this isn't truly normal. Not being tied down to a job or a school schedule. A supportive father and husband who doesn't mind funding our adventures with only minimal amount of ribbing. But I still need to take care of myself.

So I do small things. Go for an early morning solo run. Sneak off to an essential oils demo at a friends house. Put the kids to bed early and hide in my room with laptop, beverage, and copious amounts of Gilmore Girls on Netflix. Always pick the restaurant when we are traveling so I can pretend to be a foodie and make sure my children experience real food at every meal. That last one is important because I have realized that even when I can't get a physical break I must take charge of the things that make me happy. And food makes me happy so I always pick in order to get that mental enjoyment of an amazing plate.

And when I don't take the time to do these things I realize that I'm not being very nice. I'm on the edge of freaking out and needing a mental health day. Which is kind of hard to take when everyone is home all the time. Every single day.

It's all about perspective I suppose. What ones life looks like to outsiders is usually entirely different than the reality. My blessings might be your problems. The things that make you happy could drive me crazy. Not everyone could deal with the absolute un-scheduledness of our days. Or the constant togetherness. Or the fact that my only traveling companions are both under 4 foot.

But they are pretty cool companions. They even get their own hashtags at restaurants. I don't have much to complain about. I lead a pretty privileged life.

#stellaapproved

Funny. And True.

Slow Life

 

What in the world are we doing?

Sometimes I wonder. Sometimes I look at the ways of our family, and how they can be so drastically different from that of our neighbors, and I wonder. Are we slowing down, just to stand out? We say we are setting an example for our children, but are we also maybe trying to set one for our community?

I know our slow it down mindset kicked off when Cash was four and we began to view food in a different way. He is now eight. I say four because that appears to be the last picture I have of a brightly dyed birthday cake. And that is what it began with. Food dyes, artificial colors, and other various petroleum preservatives. We banned it all. Began to make everything at home, from scratch most of the time. It was time consuming yes, but I like to cook and everyone was healthier and had much more pleasant attitudes. So win-win right? So I thought.

That whole foods diet began to set us apart. I was suddenly the mom that wouldn’t let her kid eat the party food. I was the one looking like a crazy person for not allowing my son to eat the donuts that were brought for the soccer game half-time. After the initial period of having to just get over it, I began to wear that badge with pride. It was easier for me to look down on those less enlightened folks who were still stuffing their kids full of petroleum than to try and inform them. Sure, I’ll stand out! My family is healthier because we questioned the Standard American Diet. See?!? Don’t you people see?!? Thankfully, my ego eventually quieted down enough for me to just go on about our lives without judging what everyone put in their mouth. I mean it was exhausting and  unfair to those around me. The vast majority of our citizens really don’t know what’s in their food and what it is truly doing to their body and mind.

“LET FOOD BE THY MEDICINE AND MEDICINE BE THY FOOD.” – HIPPOCRATES

That little quote that hangs above my kitchen bar has become my answer to just about every food related question. Easy and done.

And then…well, then came Paleo.

I jumped on the Paleo train with gusto and threw out all the grains. Save for quinoa. I really love quinoa. And yes, amazingly I felt even better than I did before! How was it possible? Did people know this? That grain type foodstuffs could be the cause of most of our health issues and daily well being? My husband scoffed. Sure he had been on board with the all natural, whole foods lifestyle. But no bread? I mean, the hell?

Then he tried it. Over a year ago. And he will now testify to its greatness.

But in true disclosure we are a Primal (not fully Paleo) eating clan. We love some dairy, and we get crazy and eat some rice or corn about once a week or more depending on the busyness level around here. And we let our kids eat gluten all they want, as long as its whole foods based. We figure when they are teens they can make that decision to abstain from grains if they want.

So all this talk about food…it was actually leading up to something. Somewhere along the way, after fighting with outsiders (mainly school issues) regarding our diet, homeschool came across my radar. (Let me quickly point out, that our middle son absolutely cannot have anything with artificial ingredients in it due to allergies, and he was repeatedly being exposed to this at school despite my careful planning and packing.) Obviously I knew what homeschooling was, or I thought I did. But after being a devout reader of Pioneer Woman, I started to see it in a different light. What is this togetherness? This willingness to learn? This, shall we say, coolness of not going to actual school? I was intrigued, but content to just read about it from the sidelines.

Like with anything I get hooked on, my reading soon became obsessive on the subject. And then I threw the pitch. “Honey? I think I want to homeschool the kids.”

And like with anything I get hooked on, he voiced his views, and then gave me the reins.

If you’ve been a reader here for any amount of time, you will know that I think homeschooling has been wonderful for our family. And it has led to a multitude of other things. A multitude of ways to slow down.

Before I was the stressed public school room-mom (for two classrooms!) who said yes to everything, drove 60+ miles a day just to take the kids to school, coached two soccer teams, baked and cooked and packed three meals a day for three kids, planned parties and hated the waste the whole time I was planning them, worried incessantly about my kids education, among a whole slew of other “issues”.

Sidenote: Have I ever mentioned how I began to abhor waste? All those treat bags full of junk that would get thrown away? Why did we have to have that stuff? There are so many alternatives. The mounds of paperwork sent home? Everything that was unnecessary began to really bother me. I would go off on rants upon receiving something else I deemed waste or having to pick up after another bag filled with plastic junk. I kept the rants internal when it was something my kids brought home that was supposed to be a treat for behaving well or earning a academic award, but felt their could be alternatives to those things as well.

My kids were exhasuted daily upon school pick-up. Falling asleep on the 20 minute drive home. Learning but not really growing. Learning to fit in. Learning things that had nothing to do with real academics. Fighting and fighting and fighting during the few evening hours we had together as a family.

So we began to slow down. And it was lovely. We had more time for each other, more time to just be and just play. I said no to anything and everything that would stress me out. Of course there would be times I slipped and forgot. Like last year when I volunteered to teach two classes at our homeschool co-op and coach my daughter’s soccer team because no one else would and the head of the soccer association asked me very nicely. Luckily, I see that those obligations were not good for me or our family so this year I will be politely declining.

What comes next?

Small things, I suppose. We switched to raw milk for our health. We added a few goats to our Tiny Farm this year. Increased our flock of chickens. We plan on implementing some permaculture techniques in our garden due to us not being the most awesome gardeners. (Although, I do still have butternut squash in my kitchen from late last summer so we must not be all that bad.) We are learning to take care of our fruit trees and we added some berry bushes. All this to help bring our food a bit closer to home. Which is ironic since we own a grocery store. But you know, we’ve done things there to help the movement. Adding an organic/gluten free section and trying to buy produce from local farmers to name a few.

In the making it for yourself department, my husband has become quite skilled at brewing craft beer over the past few year. The man spent months chopping and stacking wood to ensure we wouldn’t be having to buy any this Winter. He received beekeeping equipment for Christmas and we will have new winged friends in our backyard in a few months. He seems more interested in helping the honeybees thrive than harvesting actual honey but I’m sure his tune will change. Just the other evening, I caught him making soap.

I do my part thru my cooking and gardening and animal tending. I picked up knitting as another slow hobby and a way to take back a bit of control of our accessories. $10 for a cheap scarf? No thank you. I’ll make it myself and know whose hands it came from. Not to mention that fiber arts are just beautiful.

And the road to simple just keeps on going. I love this road. It’s not smooth by any means, and a lot of the time it means hard work. But hard work is something our society has begun to greatly undervalue. Hard work can make you stand out. Authenticity can make you stand out. I guess in teaching my children the value of both of these things, I am teaching them to stand out. I’m quite alright with that.

Primal Yuppies

So we have been plodding along with this Paleo/Primal way of life for over 8 months now. Warren still feels terrific. I am still at a plateau but otherwise feel pretty great. But there are times when we both feel kind of stuck up. Like, oh we are too good for any food that doesn't fit into our daily diet. Grains? Nah. Legumes? No way. Sugar? Only the kind found in maple syrup, honey, fruit, and the occasional coconut nectar.

As I have said before this has carried over into all areas of our life. We are more conscious about all the products we use. Whether its body care, our house, our clothing. So the other day Warren was presented with the problem of a squeaky door. I guess he wasn't interested in breathing in WD-40 so he Primalized the situation. What do most health conscious cooks own? A Misto of course. Ours was out of oil so he filled it up with avocado oil and greased that door down. No more squeaking. No harsh fumes. That's how Paleo folks tackle home maintenance.

Now I really feel like a yuppie.

Sushi

My mother used to bring home copious amounts of Chinese food when we lived in L.A. (Lower Arkansas). Rare trips to Texarkana meant a visit to a very special chinese restaurant where we ordered double of everything and breathed in the amazing smell of their egg drop soup. The best shrimp fried rice, and sweet and sour broccoli, lovely peanut chicken. We crunched on icy Diet Cokes while we waited for our huge order. They gave us little plates of eggrolls and rangoon.

Now I am the one carting home a ton of foreign food. Enough so we have leftovers for days. But... I bring home sushi.

Wine or Whine?

Loveliness floods my mouth,

instant relaxation from the days stresses.

Sad that it takes fermentation

to loosen the anger,

shake down

the frustration,

transform a screaming banshee

into a role model TV show mother.

Embrace you every evening,

whilst cooking nourishment,

bathing the small children,

falling down the technology hole.

Miss you when you are gone,

every morning curse your aftertaste,

i like you better in your organic all natural state,

red is my favorite color in a glass.

4 Days Later

Life has come down hard upon this head.

So hard that Sunday was our anniversary and neither Warren or I bothered to remember. Funny thing...neither of us minded.

We are standing on the edge of what appears to be a whirlwind of activity. School starts in two weeks. The Monster's birthday is Thursday. Training new employees at work. Our secretary resigned. Which means a metric ton more work for me. Football practice? Already? I registered for college classes. Yes, yes I did. Another employee put in their notice. Must hire more. Soccer starts soon. Piano lessons continue on. Yoga, oh my sweet sweet yoga I will make time for you. All the while still eating healthy. Back to packing lunches 5 days a week. Back to driving 60+ miles 5 days a week. Running two businesses. Still finding time to run. Just barely. Can you count a mile on the treadmill as a run, when you used to only count anything over 5m?

Exhaustion. You are becoming my middle name.

I am happy to say that although life is beating me up with all its...."stuff", I have not eaten wheat in a week. Crazy. Not sure how I feel. Cause really I have just felt crappy and run down. I read somewhere that the first week was the hardest, almost withdrawal like. So maybe next week I will feel better?

On another note, I had the most vivid dream about my Bloggy BFF last night. She moved to my town. She was fabulous and funny and we forgot to pick up all the kids from school. Plus she was living in a super stylish townhouse (which we don't have where I live in the sticks) that was decorated for Christmas. About the time we are cracking up over two or three bottles of wine, our respective husbands walk in the door looking very pissed, hauling all our children behind them. Then they begin demolition and remodeling all around us.

Weird....

But...she does have an amazing cookie recipe on her blog today. So you should go visit.

Maybe I just need some cookies to feel better.

This Is Why They Prescribe Xanax

Detoxing off alcohol, sugar, dairy, red meat, white flour + PMS = not such a good day.

I'll be the momma curled up in the corner rocking back and forth.

Regular eating to resume on Monday. Must get this junk out of my system.

(I even did Jillian's Shred this morning. I must be desperate)

A Bathtime Visitor

I'm really tired.

And whiny.

My house is not magically becoming clean no matter how many times or how hard I wish.

Work is getting just a bit more stressful. Did I mention we are buying this business at the first of the year? Lots to learn and learning it from my spouse. I told him I feel like we are starting our marriage all over from scratch. It's not easy working together.

The other evening I turned on the tub for Sugarbaby and was startled by this little dude.

I totally jumped and was just glad he didn't follow suit. So I called in my bug and reptile and amphibian remover.

He got em'!

The little froggy dude was released to safety and Sugarbaby continued her bath.

She likes to bathe like a rockstar.

Things and Stuff

I miss you my friends!

I have pictures, oh so many pictures, but my computer is telling me I don't have enough disk space to get them from my camera to my screen. Can someone help?

A few things we've been doing: County Fair, Chalkboard Construction, Feingold Program (this will involve its own post), Soccer Preparedness, Homework Finishing, Fall Cleaning, Food Consuming, and Mommy Running.

I am exhausted. This is the first time I have set down in two days.

I really have so much to tell you. I can't wait to share. I just need a nap first.

P.S. If you know what the Feingold Program is, please leave me a comment!

It Can't Get Here Soon Enough

I have the urge to write about Fall.

Did you know it is my very absolute most favorite season?

Well. It is.

Every time I step outside into the sweltering heat I make a silent wish for gusty winds, rustling leaves, and that telltale chill in the air.

I miss drinking hot coffee on my porch in the mornings.

I miss hoodies and cute boot cut jeans.

I miss kiddos in new school clothes so cute you could eat them.

The things I am longing for could take up an entire college ruled sheet of notebook paper.

Pumpkins. Earlier evenings. Boots. The urge to drink hot tea while watching movies after the kids go to sleep at a decent hour. Sweeping leaves. Holiday decorating. Halloween. Thanksgiving. Christmas. Duh. Making Gingered Sweet Potato and Carrot soup. Cooking in the crockpot and dutch oven all the dang time.Orange and brown. Football. School, sweet blessed school with its sweet blessed teachers. Frosty windows. Mums. Pumpkin pie. Scarves. Baking cookies with my babes. Leaves leaves leaves everywhere. Wood smoke & wet mornings. Cool weather running.

And just to put a visual with my supreme love of all things Fall, I present you with a mixed bag of my favorite shots from posts labeled Fall in the SugarBritches archives.

He's Probably Right

Me: You're ornery.
Cashman: No I'm not ornery, I'm just a boy. Boys are not ornerys. Ornerys are just people.

This Is Not Funny

So I had kind of promised Michelle and maybe a few others that I would most definitely have a video walk thru of the remodel posted today.

But...um well.

We had a carbon monoxide leak in our house and instead spent the better part of the day at the ER.

This now explains my three day long headache, inability to run 3 miles without stopping (like I usually can), and everyone's lethargy.

Video tomorrow. Once I fully recover. I swear.

Not That I Would Ever Be On Death Row.

I'm cameraless. Being that the Nikon bit the dust, is taking a dirt nap, will no longer be with us anymore. Surely its not that bad. Nothing that a grand couldn't fix, except the little sucker keeps corrupting memory cards. Anyways...its humble replacement should be here tomorrow as long as the impending doom of the ice storm doesn't stop the UPS man. I do love the UPS man. Or men. As I have several. They deliver lots of packages to me. Oh yes...they do.

Being without proper photo fodder to blog about, I'm stealing an idea from another blog today. Now this has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that I'm on a strict "eat no more than 1200 calories a day" diet, because HEY! I'm down to 150lbs and that is totally worth all the self deprivation I'm putting myself through. I swear. Except ya know, losing weight is expensive. I need new clothes. Don't hate.

So here goes. What would you eat as your last meal on death row?

Here is my fantasy meal. Doesn't matter if I had hours to live or years. I would consume all of this without a morsel of shame.

Medium rare ribeye. Yummy juicy meaty goodness.

Loaded baked potato. Bacon and sour cream? Better than milk and honey.

Stuffed portobello mushroom. I prefer mine without tomatoes. I don't do tomatoes. Please include sausage and brie.


Dozen after dozen after dozen oysters. With lots of horseradish. And cold beer.

Fried crawfish tails. I could eat numerous baskets of these with that yummy roumalade dipping sauce from Cafe Rue Orleans.

Boiled shrimp. I will pretty much founder myself on boiled shrimp and crawfish.

Eggs Benedict. The BEST BREAKFAST EVER hands down. No arguments. I make a mean EB.

Cheesecake. If you don't like cheesecake I'm not sure we can be friends.

Chocolate cake. If you don't like chocolate cake there is something very very wrong with you.

And finally, chocolate milkshakes. Refer to the cheesecake and chocolate cake disclaimers.

And you dear readers?

It's A Mess

Folks, I need a housekeeper.

I've come to this conclusion after several years of cleaning up messes that I did not make, and realizing that there are people who get paid to clean up messes they didn't make. So why shouldn't I be paying someone to deal with this filth? Someone that isn't me, ya know. Cause really?

It's just getting old.

Laundry sucks. Like the actual washing is kind of fun because it smells good and the machine sounds cool and I kind of get hypnotized by the spinning and sloshing and whooshing. The dryer, not so cool, because I'm not a fan of heat. I hate opening the dryer door and its all hot in my face. Ugh. And don't get me started on the folding and putting away. So redundant.

I can deal with the dishes. That's pretty easy. Load. Unload. Wash a pan or two. Done. I'm even getting the Monster trained to do this one. Dusting also falls in the not so bad area, especially since I don't do it often.

But other things that fall in to the sucky category would be: vacuuming, mopping, toilet cleaning, sweeping, bed making, sink scrubbing, and window washing. Seriously, someone else should be doing this stuff. I don't have time. I can keep it surface clean but lord keeping a house really clean like actually disinfected and smelling good is tough.

Then I think I'm way too weird about people to have someone clean my house. I'm not good with people I don't know, not very trusting you see. Am I just supposed to leave the cleaning person alone in my house? And why did I just say cleaning person? I might as well forgo being PC and say cleaning lady cause c'mon! Who's going to pay a man to clean their house? That would be a complete waste of money.

So do I leave the housekeeper here or do I just move my person and Sugarbaby from room to room trying to stay out of her way, while watching to see if she steals anything? Not that there is anything to steal. All you crazies out there on the Internetz, I have nothing of value. Just way too many toys and clothes I can't fit into.

Readers, have you ever paid someone to do something you could do yourself, just because it was easier to hire it out? What are the rules of etiquette in this situation? And can you recommend someone?

Poster Child for Abstinence

My little step-brother just called me. It's his week at his Dad's and my Mom's house. And of course he has homework.

He's a good kid. Handsome and kind, with the beginning of a hint of a dry sense of humor. Which he needs in order to survive in our family.

He'll turn 13 next week.

When he called I was taken off guard because he immediately said he had a few questions about abstinence. I offered him a babysitting gig and told him that spending some quality alone time with his niece and nephews should answer any questions about whether or not abstinence is a good choice.

But he stopped me and explained that it was an assignment for a class and he needed help answering the questions.

And so it began.

I was drilled with sex-ed questions by a not yet 13 year old. BOY! Thirteen year old BOY!

"If a teenage couple uses a condom can they still get pregnant?"
"If a condom slips off and breaks is there a risk of pregnancy or contracting a STD?"
"Can some types of STD be transmitted through skin to skin contact?"

Those were just a few of the questions. I alternated between turning forty-eleven shades of red and laughing hysterically like a hyena. I kept accusing my mother of putting him up to this and demanding to know if I was on speakerphone. He swore up and down he wasn't messing with me and really needed help because our parents had told him they were tired of answering questions about sex and to just call me.

Yeah. Cause I'm the poster child for abstinence.

His last question was a fill in the blank list. List three things that changes for a teenage couple who get pregnant.

My answers: 1. You have a baby.
2. You have a baby.
3. You have a baby.

Those weren't good enough for him so I had to come up with: You're broke. You don't have a life. You have no friends. You have a baby.

I'm just going to stop answering my phone.

Dear Fellow Parent Driving Big Red Truck,

I thought I might make a suggestion as to the parking job you do on a daily basis at pick up time.

In the mornings I don't give you a second's thought, because blissfully, I am able to take advantage of the wonderful car door opener ladies in the drop off line. This enables me to unload my children without leaving the comfort and warmth of my truck and my cup of coffee. And also, I don't have to put on a bra. That is a major advantage to said drop off line.

But, seeing as how I have a pre-schooler, I can't take advantage of the pick up line in the afternoons. I actually have to park, unload my 17 month old daughter, and walk into the school, sign my life away, retrieve my sons, and walk back to the car. Truly this doesn't bother me. By that time I'm awake, I've usually put on all my undergarments, and if you're lucky I've managed a shower. I enjoy talking with my son's teachers should I see them as I'm waiting for the bell to ring. I even like to park at the end of the lot and haul Sugarbaby those extra steps just to fit in a little bit more exercise in my day. But enough about me, this letter is about you.

You obviously don't see the advantage in parking in the back of the lot and walking a bit. Actually, you don't even seem to know what parking is. See, everyday you pull your giant truck up to the very front of the school and park right in the middle of the lane. So if one is unlucky enough to have parked in that row, when they try to leave, they have to squeeze by your big truck. I had to do this one day and nearly took off the bumper of your big truck. That would have been a shame.

I've noticed that on occasion, other people have parked in such a manner. But that doesn't seem to deter you in the least. You just pull in right beside them, completely blocking the lane where not even a Mini-Cooper could fit behind you. I'm wondering if you missed the day in Driver's Ed where they explained that all those white intersecting lines on the blacktop outside of a building are spaces where you park a car. Or maybe you're just that inconsiderate as to block the flow of traffic at an elementary school at pick up time. All I know is I'm tired of it.

But whatever. I've learned that if I park on the very last row I won't get blocked in by your big truck and made to wait while you retrieve your kid. You blocked me in twice and after that I got smart. Block me once, block me twice, the third time I'm telling the cops. I'm not exactly sure that it is illegal to not use the parking spaces in a parking lot but I'm thinking of just filing it under Public Nuisance.

Yours Truly,
SugarBritches

Sunday Evening Service

This evening I was cruising along down the highway, headed into town to swoop up the Monster. I was doing about 60mph. 5 over the limit you know. And I'll admit....I was talking on my phone.

I do my best talking while driving. It's pretty much the only time I get to talk with a little bit of peace and quiet. I know, I know. I shouldn't be talking and driving. It's dangerous...blah blah blah. At least I don't text and drive.

So I'm talking to my GG, and I notice in my rearview that someone is right on my bumper. Tailgating me real bad. And a big FYI, I hate tailgaters. I don't do it myself. I don't let my husband do it and yes....I will stomp my breaks if you are too close to me. Dangerous behavior again, I know. I know.

Anyways, this tailgating car behind me appeared to be a granny car. Ironic since I was talking to my granny at the time (but she doesn't drive a car like that). But you know what I mean. Something big and long and in the family of an Oldsmobile or Cadillac. We get to a passing zone and Mr. Tailgater zooms around me and cuts back in merely inches from my front bumper. My jaw dropped when I realized that Mr. Tailgater had to be at least 80. Wearing a suit and tie and driving like a bat out of hell. Then... he throws up the bird in his back window. Dude flipped me off! I was flabbergasted.

So I replayed what had just happened to my GG and she said "Well, I bet that made you mad."

I replied, "No, not really. I'm shocked that it was an old man who did it. I guess he was just late for church."

You've got to understand where I live to get it. But believe you me...it's funny.

They Are Much Cuter In Person

So I had this fancy schmancy bar graph all done up just to illustrate my point. But I couldn't transfer it over here so instead you'll just get to deal with my ramblings about how effed up school pictures are.

Both the boys came home with school picture order forms this week.

I vaguely remember my mother muttering under her breath about school pictures twice a year. Twice a year folks! Fall and Spring. Two chances each and every school year to swindle you out of your money. At least I think that is what she was muttering about. Either that or someone hadn't refilled the ice trays. Which I now understand is just as irritating as the school picture scam. Seriously. I didn't get it then....but boy do I now.

So as I was saying, both the boys came home with these forms. I sat down with my checkbook, pen in hand, and scanned the options. Holy freakin shit! You've got to be kidding me! You really get next to nothing for the major dough you're putting down for these school photos. And c'mon, let's admit it, what are school photos anyways? Thirty minutes out of your kid's day where he stands in line, then sits down, then has directions barked at him on how to put his arm just like this and wait, tilt your head this way, and then your chin this way, and he has no clue who this dude is behind the camera, and oh hey! say cheese little guy! He is nervous and sweaty and if he is anything like either of my children, he can't take a decent posed photo to save his life.

While I'm sitting there, contemplating selling a kidney to pay for the school portraits, it occurs to me that this whole deal of buying before you see them....sucks. Yeah. It sucks. When the Monster was in preschool, the small local photo gal gave us proofs and then let us pick the package we wanted. And you know what? Her pictures were awesome! Yeah I'm talking about you Holli! Since then I haven't had the choice of seeing what I'm paying for and its really starting to tick me off. Not only are they screwing us on the prices but they are also sticking it to us on the quality. And 16 wallets!!!! Who needs 16 wallets besides Middle School love birds and Seniors? Not me. Not my kids.

You know what I want? I want a photographer that takes a decent photo. That sends home a proof and then lets me pick and choose what I want in a package. I want someone that doesn't charge $18 for an 8X10. I want someone to respect me and the fact that I am getting roped into buying school pictures twice a year for 13 years and start adding multiple kids into the situation and that means I'll be buying 6 packages a year for 13 years and you know I never claimed to be so good with math but that equals a whole effen lot of school pictures. Half of which are going to suck. Oh lets be honest, probably more than half are going to suck. Because you know what....they're school pictures! If I want good pictures of my kids, I'll call Aunt Gayla, or take them myself.

Just stop it with the freakin school pictures. And while you're at it, don't make me sell wrapping paper, cookie dough, and overpriced candles. The only thing I'm cool with is the Scholastic book forms. Those you can keep sending home. Everything else....I'm boycotting.