Hi. My Name is Morgan, and I'm a Morning Person

My eyes popped open at 6:45 this morning... on a Saturday. All it did was remind me of a recent conversation Hubby and I had- one that I think I have to finally admit as the truth.

Me: I think I'm a morning person.
Hubby: (bursts out laughing) Are you serious?
Me: What?
Hubby: Are you just now figuring that out?
Me: What's that supposed to mean?
Hubby: You've been a morning person for years now.
Me: (in complete denial, shaking my head) No I haven't been.
Hubby: (still laughing) Yes you have. And you definitely still are one.
Me: NO I'M NOT!! I HATE morning people. They're all perky and "Hello, morning! How amazing is this day?!" and shit. I am NOT a morning person. I don't want to be a morning person!
Hubby: (still laughing) Baby, you're a morning person. You wake up at the ass crack of dawn, make coffee and immediately start working. And, you can't stay up past 10 at night. You are a morning person.
Me: I just like the quiet in the morning, thank you. And I like my sleep at night.
Hubby: That makes you a morning person.
Me: Shut up!
Hubby: (still laughing) I can't believe you are just now figuring this out.
Me: Shut up!! I don't WANT to be a morning person, dammit!

I've fought it for days now, since our conversation. Every time I come up with a logical explanation,

The Great Coffee-to-Tea Experiment

A few weeks ago, I got a wild hair up my ass and decided to perform an experiment. (I seem to do that a lot in my life, can you tell?)

I switched my morning coffee for tea. Me? Mrs.Kids-Cats-Coffee-Tatts in my blog's slogan? Yeah, I know.

I completely understand that this has been done before. You can google it and 719,000 results come up, many of the posts are bloggers just like me. But, Inklingers, I haven't done it before, which means you all haven't been able to read my take on what happens.

It all started with an episode of the Good Witch TV show on the Hallmark Channel (hell of a reason to make a huge change in your life, right?). Cassie Nightingale was pushing her herbal "coffee" on everyone one episode, and when her next door neighbor (and eventual love interest- we all know it's coming) commented on how it actually did taste like coffee, she revealed that it was really roasted dandelion root, chicory root, and beet root.

I googled. The shit exists.

I decided to make a trip to my local herb store to see if they had the ingredients, and they actually had a blend already made, minus the beet root. They had it labeled as "Herbal Coffee," but then had a very peculiar thing written next to it- Caffeine Free.

What is this tomfoolery? Caffeine Free? I'm willing to perform the experiment of switching coffee to

The Evolution of a Super Mom

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My Love Affair... With a Computer

I might be having a love affair with my kids' computer.

Yes, I have my own laptop. Hell, I even got a tablet for Christmas that I carry around with me pretty religiously... so much, in fact, that at the homeschooling group last week, I went to grab my phone, thinking it was my tablet, to show another mom a book I have downloaded on my tablet. First world problem, I know.

We bought the kids a desktop computer for Christmas because The Girl wanted to play The Sims, along with 37 of its expansion packs- something I did NOT want clogging up my laptop. The Ginger wanted to edit his stop-motion videos and research how to make more realistic ones, again, something I didn't want my laptop taken hostage for.

So Hubby and I bit the bullet and bought a desktop for the kids. We figured, a computer that stayed put in the kitchen desk area would be better than one that could disappear into the abyss that is each child's room, and would also teach the kids how to share. Meanwhile, I would have my laptop back to myself, and with my laptop, the freedom to do whatever I wanted, wherever I wanted.

Only... something strange happened between Christmas and now. I seem to have taken over the kids' computer.

There's something nostalgic about sitting in front of an actual computer, the clickety-clack of the

WTF Wednesday- All My Favorite Shows are Getting Axed

I'm about done with television. I know I spend too much of my time watching it as it is, but when my favorite shows start getting cancelled, I'm thinking it's either a sign from above or a personal vendetta against me- one or the other.

"Witches of East End" RIP (Sigh)
Pic Courtesy and Article

First it was "Manhattan Love Story." Apparently this show got cancelled before I even started watching it this past weekend. I was laying in bed, recuperating from our Halloween garage walk-through, wanting to just lose myself for approximately 22 minutes. Cue "Manhattan Love Story" on Hulu.

Cute. Funny. Let you into the inner thoughts of men and women during the dating process. Unique, and I fell in love immediately.

Only to find that the 4 episodes on Hulu were the only 4 episodes that were ever going to air. That show got the ax back on October 24th. Well damn.

Then it was "A to Z," an adorable account of one couple's relationship "from a to z." It had the mom from "How I Met Your Mother" on it, so I figured it would work out and be a hit among HIMYM fans.

I was wrong. That show got the ax, too, but at least they are allowing the remaining episodes to air.

Then my friend tagged me in an article on facebook about how "Witches of East End" had been cancelled after 2 seasons.

WTF!! NOT "WITCHES OF EAST END!!" NOOOOOO....

That show is amazing. It's so cheesy, and so far fetched, that you HAVE to love it. And the cast is

WTF Wednesday: Damn You, School-Like Pizza!!

Starting this blog post today is difficult, because I'm not exactly sure how far to go back, or whether to start with the nostalgia or the present day info. So, I'll do what I'd do in conversation: Throw out random words and promise I'll connect them by the end of the post.

School Pizza
and
Weight Watchers

There you go. Now we can begin, because y'all trust that I will connect the dots (la la la la la...).

I've been on Weight Watchers for about 2 and a half months now. I started out really well, lost 12 pounds in the first 2 months or so, and then took a few weeks off from point-counting to enjoy wine, cookouts and nights out with a friend who moved back to the east coast.

Let me pause for a second (in case some Weight Watchers' rep finds my blog and want to try and take me down): you can totally enjoy wine, cookouts and nights out with a friend when you are on WW. I had just already met my goal weight that they set for me, so I decided to see what I could do without tracking food each day before I set a new goal weight for myself. The result? I gained 2 pounds back and maintained that weight just fine.

YES!! This stuff!!
Pic Courtesy

So with all of the chaos of my friend leaving behind us, I decided to get back on track with WW to try and meet the new goal I had set for myself (and lose those extra pounds I had gained).

Now I'm going to jump back and take you on a trip down memory lane...

Y'all remember school pizza, right? I'm talking about that rectangle mass of cheese and mystery meat that was available pretty much every day in high school, but only on certain days (usually Friday) in middle school.

That stuff was AMAZING!!!

And, that stuff is not available anywhere to the general public. Trust me, I've looked. A few years ago,

When Blogging Alter Egos and Secret Identities Collide

I've realized as the release for my upcoming book draws near, my two worlds are beginning to collide. Since I began blogging back in 2010, my blog posts have been signed 'Tatted Mom'. I made the decision back then to not use my real name in posts, and never my kids' names or faces. Now, 3 years later, I've held true to keeping my kids anonymous, but my alter ego is no longer a secret.

Pic courtesy of io9

Basically, I've become more of an Iron Man blogger, with the entire world knowing that I'm Tony Stark in the exoskeleton, instead of living my days as Bruce Wayne and my nights as Batman, and no one ever connecting the dots. I'm becoming okay with this. I like Tony Stark. He's quirky and sarcastic, much like me.

It really got me thinking as to what makes 'Tatted Mom' different than me, Morgan, or if there even is a difference anymore after 3 years of my two lives slowly melting together. I decided to list it all out. This post is great for the newbies to Inklings- especially those who know Morgan, but not Tatted Mom. This will be fun for y'all.

Tatted Mom

1. 32 year old mother to The Girl and The Ginger, elusive children who only ever appear in pictures with their backs facing the camera, or their faces covered.

2. Sarcastic, highly opinionated, and not afraid to speak her mind.

3. Strange sense of humor that 72% of readers don't actually get (okay, so that percentage is completely made up and is an example of her strange sense of humor). Those who get it stick around so she can make them shoot coffee out of their noses every morning by laughing at new posts. Those who don't get it either stick around because they want to get it, because they absolutely hate it and have to see what vile, wretched thing she has to say next, or they leave and never come back. She doesn't cry when those people who don't get her, leave.

4. Has a potty mouth.

5. Gives great advice in very unique, often coated in sarcasm, ways.

6. Very honest and open about the questions she's asked or the topics she writes about.

7. Married to Hubby, who is just as sarcastic and quick witted as she, so their banter leaves many readers

Dear Coffee Gods...

Dear Coffee Gods,

I apologize. I apologize, from the bottom of my heart, for whatever I did to anger you all. If it's because I haven't been to Starbucks in ages, I'll go today, I promise. If it's because I quit drinking a cup of decaf at night because I ran out of decaf, I will buy some today, I promise. Just let me know why you have frowned upon me, and I will fix it.

About 2 weeks ago, my Keurig died (may it rest in peace). Only a member of our family for not even 2 years, I did everything I could to save it, including taking it apart and putting it back together, googling answers, and cleaning it out. My last hope was Keurig customer service, and Lindsay informed me that it was, indeed, time to grieve and move on. My Keurig will be missed.

Thankfully, we had my red coffee maker ready to commence its job as Head Coffee Maker. She was programmable, so Hubby and I would set her at night, and we'd have a fresh pot of coffee ready for when we woke up. Great system we had going.

Until this morning, when Hubby noticed the green light was on, but no coffee had brewed. This time, panic

The Fine Line Between Scaring Our Kids and Scarring Our Kids

This past weekend was not only the kids' first weekend of summer vacation, but also Hubby's 4 day weekend due to Memorial Day. We decided to stay at the house all weekend, grill out and have a movie marathon. What movie series did we choose? The Harry Potter movies? The Star Wars saga? Indiana Jones?

Nope. Thanks to Hubby's and my stellar parenting, we chose the Scream movies for our 11 year old and 8 year old to watch. And let me tell you now, they LOVED them!

The kids have been begging us for some time now to watch horror movies. The Girl is the ringleader of this mission, of course, but she has asked to watch everything from the Nightmare on Elm Street movies to the Chucky movies to Stephen King's IT.

We almost gave in to IT. We are very close. Hubby and I were both scarred by that movie when he was about The Girl's age and I was about The Ginger's age, so we figured it was time for our kids to be scared of creepy clowns for the rest of their lives, too. Then we remembered that it was a mini-series, and of the 3 hours of bad late 80s hair and clothing, there was only about 30 minutes of scare-factor time. That could wait for another weekend, or a random Tuesday afternoon. We needed scare moment after scare moment.

So yes, we chose the Scream trilogy (let's face it, the 4th one was crap). Many of you will see nothing wrong with our decision. The kids can see more violent things just watching the news one night or heading to Yahoo! to see the latest happenings in the world. I also understand that there are many of you who can't believe we showed a bloody, gory horror movie to our 11 and 8 year olds, much less 3 of them.

Well, we did. And like I said before, the kids loved them. For Hubby and I, we are pretty open with our kids when it comes to movies. As long as there is no nudity, sex, extremely gruesome gore and horror (think

5 Reasons (From the Past 2 Days) That I Should Not Be Allowed to Interact with the Outside World Before Coffee

Everyone who knows me knows I'm a coffeeholic. I'll have a huge jumbo cup in the morning, a midmorning

cup, an afternoon cup, and sometimes a cup of decaf at night. I don't even drink water unless it has been ran over some coffee beans at a high temperature. Yes, I know it isn't healthy, yes I know it's an addiction, but considering I don't smoke anymore, don't do drugs and drink wine on occasion, I need a vice, dammit.

With that said, I've found out, just in the past 2 days, why I need to have a coffee IV inserted and should not have interaction with the outside world until I've had at least one cup.

5 Reasons (From the Past 2 Days) That I Should Not Be Allowed to Interact with the Outside World Before Coffee

1. I ran my own credit report. Yes, before I had coffee and the brain cells functioning to tell me that would be a horrible idea. Nothing says "Good Morning" like finding out the lawyer you talked to a few years ago about the mountains of debt you are in because of a store you owned that went under, should probably retire and no longer give advice on money. He told me the statute of limitations on credit debt in South Carolina was 3 years, so I've been counting down to 2013. Come to find out, the statute of limitations on credit debt is based where the home office of the company is located, and Yay Me, they are all located in states where the statute of limitations is 6-7 years. How's that for a morning wake up? Now I have to actually do something about all of this crap, which means finding a lawyer who wasn't practicing law when Abraham Lincoln was president.

2. I gave a telemarketer my consent to have other telemarketers call me. The other day I was

The Girl Whips Out the Responsibility Card on Us

Hubby and I finally got our federal tax return money. After calculating how much we'd be left with after we paid some bills, we made the tentative decision to get a new TV for the living room, as we are currently rocking a 32" one... which sucks because we have a 47" hole that it sits in, which makes it look like a baby TV.

We disagreed greatly on how to spend the no-more-than-$600 we had budgeted. I wanted a smaller TV that had the Wifi extras of being a Smart TV. Hubby wanted a non-smart larger TV. After I fell in love with a TV at the BX on base, and Hubby was leaning toward one at Target, we decided to not buy either and figure out- not while standing in the electronics aisle- what we could compromise on. As we drove away from Target, we posed the question to the kids of which TV they'd rather have.

The Ginger didn't care. The Girl's answer shocked the hell out of us:

"Why don't we not buy any TV because there isn't anything wrong with the one we have, and we leave the $600 in the bank to save it up?"

I'm sorry, what? Did the almost 11 year old just whip out the Responsibility Card on us? Did she just school us on money management?

Hubby and I sat there, speechless. We were offering the kids a brand new TV for the living room- either a big one or a smaller one with internet capabilities, and The Girl advised us to save our money.

Either Hubby and I are really good parents, or our daughter was kidnapped by aliens in the middle of the night and they replaced her with a clone that is trying to learn our human ways.

Don't get me wrong, there are times I'm an excellent parent. Teaching my kids the value of money is not one of those times. Hubby and I are horrible with money (hence the wanting to drop $600 on a TV we didn't necessarily need). I extreme coupon to be able to keep the house stocked with essentials because I never know how much money we'll blow when we get paid every few weeks (plus I love the thrill of getting crap for free).

That's when it hit me. Maybe I didn't teach the child anything about money management. Maybe she's learning from our mistakes. Maybe she's seen how Hubby and I spend money, and then end up broke, then spend more money, then end up broke, and she doesn't want to continue the cycle for herself... or us anymore, for that matter.

You know what? In this day and age of parenting, I'll take it. I'll take the lesson taught to our children based on mistakes they've watched us make. I'll tally that one as a win on the side of Hubby and I... which is why we decided to keep the money in the bank and not buy a new TV.

Fingers crossed The Girl will also learn the lessons of my mistakes when it comes to eating an entire box of brownie mix after 8pm when you are over 30, popping that second head of a pimple that's growing on your face which leaves scars, and online dating.


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I'll Trade You Candles for a Goat and Chicken

They say money is the root of all evil. I'm not sure who 'they' is, but there are days when I fully agree with them.

We filed our taxes about 2 weeks ago. This year the federal government couldn't get their crap together in time, so our taxes were put on hold until January 30th. They were accepted on the 31st, and now we are currently playing the waiting game, wondering when we'll actually get our refund check. For the past 13 years we filed, they were accepted the next day, and on Friday of the following week we got our money. If history repeats itself, that Friday is...

Today.

I keep checking our bank account, hoping and keeping my fingers crossed that it's there, and nothing so far. Normally, this would be okay. Normally, I'd just sit back and relax, not really worrying about it. Not this Friday. Not this year.

Hubby and I are horrible with money. So, if for some reason my amazing blog posts on how I smoothly handle every single parenting problem with grace and ease, and have amazing sex on a regular basis, and am always talking about how perfect my kids are, and how I'm a size 6 and eat whatever I want without exercising, and I'm always prepared for whatever life throws at me, and how I'm Super Mom and have a million friends led you to believe that I'm perfect with money, too... Sorry, that's just not the case.

Courtesy of William Stake

This tax refund is the money we need to finally get our lives back on track. Paying for a cross-country move (complete with a moving company that had their way with me and didn't use lube and 3 plane tickets with 2 pets accompanying along) in June followed by a deposit and moving to a house on base followed by The Ginger's birthday followed by Christmas followed by play catch up after Christmas has led us here: checking our bank account balance every 10 minutes to see if the IRS has satisfied their end of this deal.

This refund, for us, is our Wonka's Golden Ticket. It will pay off our car, our new washer and dryer and allow us to finally put money into savings- something we haven't had in... 7... no, wait, carry the two, subtract the years we were separated, add that weird tax bonus we got in September that one year, divide by the root of... yeah, I have no freaking clue. Every time we put money into savings, something would come up and we'd have to use the money in savings.

So yes, Inklingers, Hubby and I are part of the 2/3rds of Americans who live paycheck to paycheck. We've

Some Days are Meant for Sleeping

Have you ever had one of those days that you know you should have just stayed in bed? Sure, everyone has.

Have you ever had one of those days and you've only been awake for 21 minutes of it? That's my day today.

Hubby is always home to get the kids up in the morning and make their lunches. So when my alarm clock went off at 6:30 this morning, as usual, and I was quickly reminded how I had insomnia last night and stayed up until goodness knows when watching Grey's Anatomy, I turned the alarm off, thought "Hubby will handle everything" and went right back to sleep.

The Girl, panicking, woke me up at 7 with "Dad's still not home. Can you get up, please?" Good grief, of course his work would pick the day that I'm working on about 4 hours of sleep to hold him over. I laid in bed for a minute, like I do every morning, and thought about the day ahead of me.

Y'all have to understand that generally speaking, I'm an optimist. When I lay and think about my day in the morning, I'm sorting out what I need to do, what I want to do, and getting everything straight in my head so I can make the most of the day. This morning, however, I remembered something...

I have a tattoo to finish this afternoon. Woo hoo, right? WRONG! This tattoo has been a thorn in my side before I ever started it back in September. The guy works with Hubby, and he first wanted a solid black tribal sun with colored Japanese water waves under it, and guess what? He printed a picture off of the internet for me of exactly what he wanted. This guy had 3 strikes against him right then and there.

1. I don't do tribal. Tribal sucks.
2. You don't mix tribal with anything, much less traditional Japanese finger waves. That would look stupid.
3. Something printed off of the internet means 1000 other people have this stupid tattoo. I'm an artist. Let me create art, please.

At the time, we desperately needed the money, so I told Hubby to tell this guy I wasn't doing his idea, but if he wanted to tell me what the tattoo symbolized, I'd draw something custom. Come to find out, this tattoo was to represent how he grew up in California, was a surfer kid and was a lifeguard.

That I can work with. That is a piece of art I can put on this guy's arm. He just didn't think that's how a

Dear King of Television Land

Dear King of Television Land,

I'm writing you today to let you know that we have a problem- yes, 'we', as in you and me. I have been left with this void, created by you, and I feel that it is your job to fill this void. Honestly, after everything we've been through, I never really thought you would treat me this way; leave me in this state of despair. We've had an amazing relationship for what, 25 years now? To think that after all this time, this is the year our relationship might be ending? The thought is devastating to me.

This year is the first that you seem to have left me with no chick drama show to watch. For the past 8 years you entertained me with 'Desperate Housewives', and that series had its last episode a few months ago. 8 years, King of Television Land. That's older than my son. I shared every laugh, every tear, every twist and turn with those 4 women for 8 years- they were like family to me. And just like that, you all decided it had run its course and now it's gone... forever.

Before 'Desperate Housewives' (and with some overlap), you had given me 'Charmed' to watch. Like 'Desperate Housewives', 'Charmed' was 8 glorious years of my life, which began even before my marriage did. 3 gorgeous, witchy sisters who fought demons- I fought right beside them, cried every time one of them died, rejoiced every time they were brought back to life, for 8 years. And just like that, you all decided they had run their course as well, and that show was added to my DVD collection.

I can say this- you replaced 'Charmed' with 'Supernatural' and that substitution sufficed. 3 hot sister witches for 2 hot demon hunting brothers- fair trade. So, I can forgive you for letting go of the Halliwell sisters and forcing me to embrace the Winchester brothers. When you decide their time is up, though, we're going to have to have another talk. For now, you are forgiven.

The problem lies in the fact that so far, of what I have seen of the fall TV show premieres, you are doing nothing to help fill the void left by yanking 'Desperate Housewives' from my weekly viewing schedule. At the moment I still have 'Weeds', but even Nancy Botwin is in her last year, but let's face it: Yes, it will be nice

Tatted Mom's Exercise Routine

I decided to start an exercise routine this week. It is the kids' first full week of school, Hubby is working during the day, and I have approximately 5 1/2 hours a day to myself. I figured 30 minutes of that would be beneficially spent exercising.

What I should have done, was post my intentions here on Inklings on Sunday night, so you all could talk me out of it. I have been in so much pain the last 2 days, it's not funny. The lunges and squats I did on Day 1 of my exercise routine have rendered my legs pretty useless. I'm thinking now of just covering myself in fake blood and growling so people think my slow, awkward, dragging-my-legs walk I have going on is because I'm a zombie.

It made me think about all of the times in my past that I started an exercise routine, and what happened to all of those times. I'm hoping this time is different, but only time will tell as to whether or not history repeats itself.

Tatted Mom's Exercise Routine

1. Wake up Monday morning ready to go, excited to be finally getting off my ass, and motivated to do whatever it takes to get my 18 year old body back. I've decided that because I'm working out and I'm going to eat healthy, I can reach my goal weight loss of 20 pounds in one month. I understand that it's not recommended to lose more than 2 pounds a week, but how hard can 5 pounds a week really be? I go ahead and weigh myself, so I have a starting point, and as I look at the number on the scale, I vow that this is the last time I ever see that number on the scale. From this point on, the numbers will get lower and lower.
2. I get dressed into my workout clothes, lace up my tennis shoes, and pop in a 30 minute workout video, because that's all I need each day to be able to lose 5 pounds a week, right? I have a towel for when I sweat, and a bottle of water next to me, ready to go. I'm pumped, still motivated, and very excited as I hit 'play' on the DVD.
3. Getting through the warm up is easy as pie. Man, I'm going to be hott in one month. Hell, I'm rocking this workout so much, that I'm sure I'll look like a supermodel after a week.
4. 9 minutes into the workout video, I'm sweating bullets and ready to die.
5. 11 minutes into the workout video, the instructor finally mentions that if you aren't able to keep up with the video, it's okay, and to just march in place until you get your breath back and can join back in.
6. 12 minutes into the workout video, I take the instructor's advice, start walking in place and grab my bottle of water.
7. 14 minutes into the workout video, I attempt to jump right back into the routine. Apparently during my break they switched to the super hard workout that only Olympic athletes can complete.
8. 15 minutes into the workout video, I'm screaming, 'Eff that. Real people can't do that move. Of

Scratching That Itch (Watch Out, it Could Be Contagious)

Inspiration comes from weird sources; any artist, writer, or musician knows that. I have gotten inspiration from some doozies of places before- meditations, dreams, necessity, boredom.

This one may top it off, though.

Hubby got me addicted to the show 'Weeds'. For those that aren't familiar, it's about a suburban mom who sells weed to keep up her lap of luxury after her husband suddenly drops dead. That's how it starts, and slowly Nancy finds herself dealing with gangsters and mafia, growing weed, making deals with the DEA, all kinds of crazy stuff.

When I say I'm addicted, Hubby got me to watch an episode this past weekend, and I'm already half way through season 5... that's a lot of 'Weeds' watching.

It's in this show that I've found some inspiration. No, I'm not going to be turning into a suburban mom who makes weed the family business, don't worry. But, it's made me want to do something. What that something is, I haven't quite figured out yet, but the itch has started.

This type of thing happens to me every so often, and while I love it and ride the inspiration wave until it ends, Hubby hates it. No, no, not even hates, I'm sure Hubby loathes it. We've been through this so much in the last 10 years, separated or not, that when I say, 'I have an itch', he knows there's no telling what will come out of my mouth next.

It started about 8 years ago when we lived in England and well, I got bored. I was going to craft fairs

8 Things an 'Old Mom' Does During Her Kid Free Weekend

My kids have been gone for going on 2 days now. My brother in law came and picked them up Thursday afternoon, after school, and I don't go to pick them up until this afternoon.

It's been amazing.

I love my kids, please don't misunderstand that. But, as every mom out there knows, sometimes we just need a break!

Since I moved here in September, I have had 4 weekends without the kids, including this one. During the last one, Hubby took me to an amazing hotel and we had dinner at The Melting Pot. The time before that I went to the Native American sweat lodge, and the time before that, well, let's just say I had hit an extreme bump in my road, reality had finally set in, and I spent the weekend in an empty apartment with vodka to accompany me... at least, that's what I remember of that weekend (there was a blog post written that weekend. It has since been deleted. I didn't want the evidence. Sorry.)

So, when I thought about not having the kids for a few days, I got so excited. Oh, the possibilities. I could sleep in, I could go see an adult movie in theaters (well, not an adult movie, but y'all get what I'm saying), I could watch whatever food documentaries on TV I wanted to without hearing them complain, I could heavily drink... ahh, yes, endless possibilities.

Here's a list of what I actually did while the kids were gone... Man, I've gotten old.

8 Things an 'Old Mom' Does During Her Kid Free Weekend

1. Go pantsless. I would have walked around my apartment naked, but my sister is here, so that's a no-go. But, I did walk around in a T-shirt and underwear, no PJ pants, which, if the kids were here, I'd hear, 'Gross, Mom, go put on some pants, please. Eww, Mom's not wearing pants.' Do I do it anyway when the kids are here? Yep, sure do, and I'll do stupid dances in my underwear just to put the icing on the cake. But, I didn't hear any of that this weekend while I walked around in my scivvies. It was nice.
2. Go on a Date. I went to dinner and a movie with my sister. Did we have to see a PG movie? Nope. We saw 'What to Expect When You're Expecting'. Amazing movie, by the way, that I would not have taken the kids to. It's not in our range of inappropriate for the kids to watch, but not something I would take them to the theaters to see. And, my sis and I ate at Red Lobster- way too expensive if we have the kids with us. I ate my seafood stuffed shrimp in void of 'stop kicking me' or 'Mom, can I have a bite of yours?' Ahh, bliss.
3. Be Obnoxious in WalMart. After dinner and a movie, my sis and I decided to go shopping at WalMart without hearing, 'Mom can I have...' or 'How much longer until we leave?' It was peaceful, well, except for the fact it was WalMart. But, I decided to dance through the aisles singing, 'Afro Circus' from the Madagascar 3 trailer. To be completely honest, I would have done this even if the

Reprogramming Myself

There comes a time in every humor blogger's life to get serious.

It doesn't happen much, y'all, and there will still be my sassy ass commentary thrown in here and there, I promise, but this post is quite emotional for me.

Source: Uploaded by user via Annie on Pinterest

I had an epiphany last night (yes, another one. I seem to be full of them lately, but they are helping me make amazing, positive life decisions.) I was on pinterest (don't we all have our epiphanies while on pinterest?), and I came across this pin with pictures of a super skinny, stick figure woman, and a curvy, vivacious woman. This pin (pictured to the right) was on a board entitled 'Healthy & Positive Body Image'... so I clicked on it.

An hour later, I had added a new board, Reprogramming Myself, and was on the verge of crying. I had spent an hour on this woman's board, clicking on articles and reading comments, repinning pictures and sayings that resonated with me, and wondering what in the hell was wrong with me.

A short time ago, I was slowly killing my body. Seriously, that's not an exaggeration. I had gained some weight while Hubby was here, and had convinced myself it needed to go... and quickly. I had started working out at the gym, and was well within a healthy exercise schedule (30 minutes a day, 5 days a week, plus an hour walk at night, 3 days a week), but I had it in my head that this easy workout schedule needed to be paired with a fat-burning, weight loss diet. I started my research and convinced myself that carbs like pasta and bread were horrible demons, as well as all sugar. So, I'd wake up in the morning, have my cup of coffee (now with sugar free creamer), make a protein smoothie with fruit (because while yes, the body can process fruit as a carb, fruit was still good for you, and I knew the dangers of eliminating all carbs from your diet) for breakfast, snacked on nuts and fruit during the day, and lunch and dinner consisted of a salad, protein and some kind of cooked veggies.

A day or two in, I was bloated as hell, which, for someone like me, is problematic. See, I don't... um... pass gas in front of people. So this diet, which was making me full of it, had me in some pain, let me tell you. And my jeans, which already didn't fit because of the weight gain while Hubby was here, now absolutely did not even button.

Wtf, seriously? I'm working out every morning, doing cardio, lifting weights, eating healthy, and my 'fat clothes' don't even fit  anymore? Talk about frustrating.

1 Fun Week = 3 Months of Being Grounded

Hubby has gone and done it again, only this time... a hell of a lot worse.

Last time he visited, I gained 10 pounds in 2 weeks, amongst other things that fall under what I called, "The Aftermath of Hurricane Hubby".

This time? I gained 7 pounds in 8 days. Can someone tell me how that's even f*cking possible??? Seriously.

I'm going to confess something real quick before I continue on with my post. I watch those shows... you know, the weight loss ones. Not the "normal" weight loss ones, but like the 600 lb man weight loss ones. My favorite is "Heavy" because the people get sent to a weight rehab center and work their asses off... literally. But one of the trainers in an episode of "Heavy" was barking at the people who signed up for the show, trying to get them motivated and said, 'It wasn't easy getting the weight on, so it's not going to be easy getting the weight off.'

Um, I beg to differ, there, personal trainer, sir. I just gained 7 pounds in 8 days, and that was easy as pie... and oreo dirt cake... and Golden Corral buffet... and sausage, egg and cheese biscuits for breakfast... yeah, pretty damn easy.

Even with the increased eating I did, I still don't understand how I gained that much weight in that amount of time. I'm actually a petite person, so for me to consume 3500 calories over what I burn in a day, in order to gain almost a pound a day, should be statistically impossible.

And yet, I accomplished it. What's even more sad, is one day, we spent the entire day touring various spots downtown, and I walked, and hiked up hills, for a total of 6 hours that day, burning over 2500 calories... and I still gained weight.

So, currently, I'm at the highest weight I've been at since I had my son 7 years ago and came down from my baby weight (depressing). I'm still not saying I'm 'fat', but what I am saying is that I'm not comfortable at the weight I'm currently at, and I only have 1 pair of pants that fits me. Either I need to lose the weight to fit back into my clothes, or I need to buy an entire new wardrobe... I'm going with option A, as much as it sucks.

What's my plan of attack? I'm grounding myself. Seriously. I'm removing the 'fun' of last week (oreo dirt cake... I keep mentioning that, but it was good. I added blackberries to the center of each cup as an attempt to make it healthier, despite the fact it had oreos and cool whip in it, but it was amazing... sorry for the tangent, the heavy girl inside me just got excited again... buttery popcorn, fast food breakfasts, Easter candy, sodas, etc) and becoming a responsible adult with healthy eating habits... suck ass grounding, if you ask me.

I'm also going to incorporate fresh fruit juice smoothies into my diet...

The Hunt for My Vice

For those that follow Inklings' facebook page, you know that almost a month ago, I quit smoking, which left me with virtually no vices.

Yay for me, getting my health in check and all, and setting a good example for my kids, but honestly, I'm upset about not having a vice anymore.

Vices make you feel naughty, feel alive, feel like you have a secret that only you and a few close to you know about, feel like an adult. And I'm talking 'acceptable' vices, not the type that can get you put in jail or put on a list for the rest of your life.

So, I kid you not, I set out to find my vice.

I started by looking up the actual, legit definition of the word (I wanted to make sure I had it correct, so my search would be successful, and, well, I'm a nerd):

vice: (n) An immoral, wicked or evil habit or practice.

Okay, great starting point. Let's consider the obvious...

I didn't smoke anymore, so that was off my list. Drinking for me consisted of 1 glass of wine every month maybe, so I'm pretty sure that couldn't count as a vice. I don't pop pills, don't smoke, snort or inject any other type of drug, so those are out. I've watched porn in my life, but considering I have a Hubby 2000 miles away and share a room with my sister, that's not really an option. Hell, sex isn't even a vice on my list in my current situation.

I cuss. Does that count? I cuss a lot, actually. Moreso than the average woman, because, well, I work in a male dominated industry. I've had to hold my own over the years, and with that comes the ability to grow a thick skin and speak their language.

I started to get a little happier. Cussing. Cussing is my vice.


Damn, that's a lame vice. Seriously.

So, my brain shifted to things that are 'normal', but because of the manner in which they are performed, could make them a vice. (Did I mention before that I'm a nerd... and a hell of a debater... I can argue just about anything, quite logically if I do say so myself.)