Being Crazy Sucks

I believe we're all crazy. Crazy comes in different types, symptoms, quirks, whatever you want to call it, but we're all a little crazy in some way. People who have been diagnosed with a particular type of mental health disorder are crazy. People who haven't been diagnosed with a particular type of mental health disorder are crazy. We're all a little crazy, and I tend to use the word "crazy" as a blanket term. It's not meant to be offensive; it's meant to make you embrace and smile about a subject that normally causes tears.

Amen!

If you don't agree with that statement above, or take offense to it, then it's probably best that you don't read further, because you won't understand my post, or how I view this sensitive subject. That's your disclaimer right there. Take it or leave it, it's up to you.

I was first officially diagnosed as crazy when I was 18 or 19. Adjustment Disorder is what the therapist called it, meaning I didn't adjust well to change. You graduate high school, get married a month later, become a military wife and move to a different state all in the process of one summer, and I'm sure you wouldn't adjust well to change, either. But, unlike most people, who can just bend and adapt to change, I had a nervous breakdown... at work... in a crowded restaurant where I was a waitress... with everyone watching. So I started my first stint in therapy (yes, stint, as in- I'm comparing it to jail... why? If you've been in therapy before, you know that some sessions feel like you were sentenced to attend), which lasted over a year.

Fast forward about 4 years or so, and I felt another breakdown coming on. I entered therapy again,

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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Fifty Shades of... Give Me a Break

(This post is an opinion piece, but does contain extremely adult material and spoilers of the book "50 Shades of Grey." So, if you haven't read it and don't want it spoiled, or you haven't put your big girl panties on today, then I advise just clicking on, my friend. ~Tatted Mom)

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I can't pull up a website, open my Kindle (yes, I have the version with the ads still on it), or watch something on TV without being reminded that the 50 Shades of Grey movie comes out this weekend.

Yippee. Can you see me doing me Excited Dance? No? That's because I'm doing the Annoyed Eye Rolling Dance instead.

I confess now- I hated the book. I can't even say I hated the books (plural) because I didn't read them all. Naturally, I have this ingrained instinct to immediately reject the popular (had it since birth, I think), so when the book went crazy, I vowed never to read it- it was a reflex, sorry. Eventually, curiosity got the best of me (and I wanted to be included in the 5,477 conversations going on about it at any given moment) so I bought the first book.

I tried, Inklingers. I really did. I read the first 40 pages or so... and then skipped through and read all of the smutty parts.

I just didn't get it. The character development was pretty shotty, the characters themselves were aloof and pretty one-dimensional. And the smutty parts weren't even really good smutty parts. I've read better erotica in the fiction section of Penthouse magazine.

Now don't go thinking I hated the book because I'm sexually frustrated and a prude. That couldn't be

Hell Week Post #3: Zombie Virus, Anyone?

It's been established that last week was one of the worst weeks in a very long time for me. Monday kicked off with Hubby and I making one of the largest decisions ever for our kids, and Tuesday will forever be known as The Day We Crushed The Ginger's Innocence.

Now, we're going to mosey on over to Wednesday. And for the record, I seriously thought these events were more spaced out; they felt more spaced out. I didn't realize until I started writing the Hell Week series that they were back-to-back-to-back days. I can't believe I'm alive.

Before I can fully get to Wednesday, I have to backtrack somewhat to Tuesday. I woke up that morning with my throat hurting... again. Since I've lived in Arizona (2 years now), I've had strep throat about half a dozen times. Then, I've had something that tested negative for strep, but they gave me the strep meds anyway, about 3-4 times. So, Arizona is trying to kill me.

Back to Tuesday. Woke up with a sore throat, which was compounded by hot flashes followed by cold spells as the day went on. I was weak, shaking and just felt like general ass (as opposed to major ass- General Ass is much bigger... ha! I made a military joke...). I had a crap load to do that day, though, so I trudged through my day, and collapsed that night in bed.

Woke up Wednesday and couldn't ignore it anymore. On top of every symptom from the previous day, I now had a raging headache and some hella sinus pain and pressure. The back of my throat looked like a zombie's face, and the lymph nodes in my neck were the size of shooter marbles, and quite tender. Time to head to the ol' doc.

Let me pause for a second to tell you about how I never really see my actual doctor. He's never seen

Friday Frenzy: I Have the Perfect Body!

(Today's Friday Frenzy post come from Mari over at Living in Mommywood. Her bold attitude and similar view on life had me loving her from the moment I hit her blog. She writes about motherhood, womanhood, society, and her philosophy on life: Live, Love, Laugh. I seriously adore this woman, so please check her out!! ~Tatted Mom)


I Have the Perfect Body

Wow now that's a bold title!

Really, is it?

Heck no!

In my eyes, in my mirror...I have the perfect body.

I feel comfortable in my own skin.

I eat right, I use moderation in my choices and don't deprive myself of any treats. I don't beat myself up if I have pizza, and I pat myself on the back when I pass on that piece of cake.

I workout several times a week, but you will never find me in a gym. That is not the setting for me. I practice Yoga, and walk in the park, and go up and down stairs when I can. I also opt for walking and leave my car when I am in the mood.

I take care of my skin and all around hygiene. I don't mistreat my face with products that promise

Friday Frenzy- I've Got Balls of Steel

(Today I'm very happy to welcome Mary from Outmanned here for Friday Frenzy. Being the only female in a house full of males (though she's pregnant with a girl now!), she writes her way through the hilarious happenings. Every one of her posts makes me laugh out loud, so definitely check her out!! ~Tatted Mom)

I've Got Balls Of Steel

Ever since 50 Shades of Grey took the stay at home mom market by the nipple clamps, Ben Wa balls have started popping up (hopefully not out!) everywhere. As an over-worked, under-rested, I-can't-remember-the-last-time-I-had-sex mother of two, I naturally assumed that I had about as much use for a pair of Ben Wa balls as I did an alarm clock or a bathroom door.

Surely, sex toys are for energetic sex-nymphs with delicate vaginas: the kind that should only be talked about in hushed, reverent tones, and inspire floral paintings. Mine, on the other hand, is gnarled and scarred like a war veteran. She is hard as nails. Don't get me wrong. I have the utmost respect for my vagina, but my overwhelming thought while reading 50 Shades was "Oh honey, my vagina could eat you for breakfast."

What use did I have for Ben Wa balls when the closest thing I was having to kinky sex was the time I fell asleep half-way through?

Ben Wa balls offer more than a smutty story to tell your friends. The muscles used to hold the marble-sized steel balls in your vagina are the same muscles responsible for stopping urinary

Friday Frenzy: Time to Burn My Nursing Bra

(Today I welcome Cristi from Easy Being Mom for today's Friday Frenzy post. She started her blog as a form of writing through the craziness that is being a stay-at-home-mom, so I could immediately relate to her posts. Her blog is cute, funny and full of stories that make you realize you aren't alone in this world when it comes to parenting. Definitely check her out!! ~Tatted Mom) 

Time to Burn My Nursing Bra

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It’s finally happened, after over 4 years of nursing my two boys I have moved past the nursing stage!  It really feels like forever since my boobs were my own; my littlest boy took some time to get the idea of nursing but once he started he never wanted to stop!  He’s nearly three now and the only reason he’s not still nursing is because the little bugger bit me so hard that my left breast ached for days.  He wasn’t happy about it but adjusted surprisingly quickly; it took about three days for me to be able to hold him without worrying about having my clothes ripped off and my boob mangled!

You know it’s time to stop nursing when the baby (toddler!) is able to access the food supply on his own.  No matter what shirt I wore or which bra, he was somehow able to worm himself in there.  It was only when I had a sweatshirt on that he was truly stymied (but who wants to wear a sweatshirt all summer, even when it’s the crappiest summer we’ve had in a long time!)

So now I’m free.  My husband asked me the other day if I felt less connected to my boy now that he

Change is Upon Us (Working Title: My Chocolate Boob Life)

I've spent a couple of weeks contemplating whether or not I should write this post. No, it's not about a controversial parenting topic, or my opinion on a headline-making subject.

It's simply about me, and sometimes that's scary, putting yourself out there to the world.

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I'm going through a change right now (no, not the change; I'm only 33... though I wouldn't mind not being a raging bitch having a period once a month), and it took a conversation with a friend of mine yesterday to make me realize that it was time for this post, time to word-vomit it all out and see what happened.

So let's just jump right in, feet first. I'm really good at doing that in life...

5 years ago, you all would not have recognized me. 99% of you would not have liked me. If I had a blog back then, I can probably guarantee that any readers I had were just there for the drama. I was an extremely negative person, drama-filled, addicted to causing strife in people's lives who had wronged me.

Far cry from the meditating, positive, tree-hugging, respectfully opinionated and eloquently-spoken person I am today, huh? My friend told me she couldn't picture me that way. I told her she didn't want to.

Hell, I hated myself back then. But you fall into these destructive patterns, and it's like a huge, negative snowball rolling after you, that you have to feed with fire and rage to stay 1 step ahead of it or else it will crush you. I chose to stay ahead of the snowball by trying to make everyone around me just as miserable as I was.

Then I woke up one morning and I had no idea who I was. I had no idea who my kids were, and I saw my life for the crumbling heap that it was. I didn't want to be that person anymore; not for my sanity, not for my kids, not for my future.

So I ran away. Most people would say that's not a healthy option, that you need to stay and face your demons. Not for me. For me, running away allowed me to clear my head from the negativity in my

If Only My Period Was a Super Power...

I'm normally not an overly sensitive person. It takes a lot to get my blood boiling or to incite anger from me.

Period Woman- My custom Super Hero
created by the Hero Machine.
This was too much fun!!!

Unless, of course, I'm PMSing or actually on my period. Then, a simple look can set me off on an angry onslaught of pure emotional babble.

So, how awesome is it that my monthly visitor has chosen its time to grace me with its presence when my kids are on Fall Break from school for a week, which also happens to be the same week I told Hubby I'd help him lose 5 pounds in a week (by fixing all of his meals and helping him with portion control) to get ready for his upcoming PT (physical training) test with waist measurement?

F*cking awesome, that's right.

In my defense (before I even get started, yes, that's how I roll), I think my family knows I'm highly sensitive and purposefully chooses that time to screw with me. I think it's a fun game of Mom's PMSing, How Close to Making Her Head Explode Can We Get?

Pretty damn close, that's for sure.

My kids aren't even the culprit this particular month- unless you count constantly asking me stupid questions from some poll app- seriously, I don't give a crap to think about whether I'd rather live with snakes under my bed or spiders on my ceiling, so stop asking (snakes... no, spiders... dammit! I've wasted too much brain power already...)

It's Hubby.

This morning's conversation is a prime example:

Me: You know I love rain, and yesterday it was awesome. Today, I really wish it wasn't raining.
Hubby: Why? You can live in rain.
Me: I understand I can, but I have stuff I need to do today.
Hubby: We lived in England for 3 years; you know how to do anything in rain that you could do

Creating a Magical Life Part 1: Be Yourself

A few months ago I really started thinking about sharing my life philosophy with people. I tend to look at the world in a unique way, which helps me live a happy, minimally-stressed, productive life.

A Magical Life.

It's definitely something I wanted to share with others, to try and help them start creating, and living, their own magical lives.

This is a web series, 5 parts in all, and this first video covers my introduction, why I wanted to do this web series, and my first personal life philosophy: Be Yourself.

I hope you all enjoy it, and be sure to like it and subscribe so you get the next video in the series delivered right to your inbox when I publish it!

Have an amazing, magical day!! ;)





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WTF Wednesday: Ryan Gosling- The Newest DILF on the Block

Now *that's* the dream- Ryan
bringing me coffee. Yes, please...

I've never kept my love for Ryan Gosling a secret.

He's only been mentioned a mere 13 times in various posts on my blog. That's not overkill, is it? (You can read my favorite posts mentioning Ryan Gosling here, here and here.)

So, imagine my surprise today when I found out that he is now a father!!

Yep, Eva Mendes hid her pregnancy for the last 9 months and gave birth to a baby girl Gosling last Friday.

I'm happy for the couple, I am. And excited to see how beautiful that baby has to be.

But I have to admit, my heart is a little broken today.

Thanks, sweetheart...

My blog has had ups, downs, reinvented itself several times over, has gained readers, lost readers, gone viral, sat dormant, been shared like a $2 whore, and has been a home to people who enjoy finding the craziness in motherhood, just like me.

Through all of that, Ryan Gosling has been an Inklings constant.

And now he's a father; one of the largest changes a person can go through. I fully welcome him into the craziness that is parenthood, and now label him as a DILF.

Yep, I just went there.

Ryan Gosling is now a father, and I'm not his baby's mama...

Definitely my biggest WTF moment of this week...



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Dependa, My Ass!

Every now and then, a topic comes along that just makes my blood boil.

Dependas are one of those topics.

No idea what a Dependa is? I'll fill you in, don't worry.

Today's vlog post: Dependa Awareness: Not All Military Wives are Dependas, Thank You!

Enjoy!!





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5 Products that Have Helped Me Redeem My Womanhood

Another vlog post? Why, yes! I'm seriously enjoying shooting them.
This one is not sponsored, meaning no companies sent me anything to review; I don't do the sponsored posts anymore. These are 5 products I found on my own (most of them through couponing) that I feel have helped me reclaim my feminine side and wanted to share with other moms and women who feel they may have lost their sexy womanhood somewhere along the way. Some are makeup, some aren't, and they are all reviewed with my quirkiness. 
If you like the video, don't forget to hit the thumbs up, and if you subscribe, you'll get my newest videos directly in your inbox. 
I hope y'all like it! ;) 



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Oh, Pardon Me... I Just Vlogged...

I'm pretty sure Youtube quickly goes through the video, picks out the 3 most embarrassing facial expressions to freeze on, and gives me those 3 moments as the only thumbnails to choose from for my videos.
Le sigh.
It's up, Inklingers! The introduction vlog post, first of many on The Inklings of Life channel on Youtube!! You'll get my introduction, what my goals are for the Youtube channel and a short little question and answer session at the end (yes, the Zombie Apocalypse is brought up).
Thanks to everyone who said they'd watch my crazy ass on video. Don't forget to share, thumbs up the video and subscribe, if you want me right in your inbox each time I upload a video. Fingers crossed, I'll be doing one each week or so!
I hope y'all enjoy it!!


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You Might Be a Southern Mom If...

1. You ever shouted, "Stop your wallerin' out there and get inside before you get your clothes dirty; we're gettin' ready to go out!" For those who don't speak Southern, wallerin' is the same as wallowing and describes when animals roll around in the mud to keep cool. We Southern Moms also use it to describe what our kids are doing out in the yard when they play.

2. You ever had to explain US history past the Civil War to your kids because the school systems didn't seem to cover that. Seriously. Learning history in the South stops with the Civil War. When I was in 10th grade, we watched "Forrest Gump" to cover what happened in US history after the Civil War, because we had 2 weeks of school left in order to learn the last 130 years.

3. Slapping some breading on a vegetable and frying it is an acceptable way to get kids to eat their veggies. We Southerners make fried green beans, fried asparagus, fried squash, fried zucchini and even fried pickles- those'll make your mouth water!!

4. You tell a kid to go outside and find a switch, and all of the color rushes from their face in dread. A switch is a branch off a tree used on your backside if you've been bad. When you are a kid, you think it's smart to stay away from the big ones, because they'll hurt more, right? WRONG! Those skinny

WTF Wednesday: Sweeping and Mopping Isn't Cleaning the House??

I'm one of those people who has to have a cleaning schedule. Why? So I make sure it gets done. I straighten my house each day, but as far as deeper cleaning is concerned, I need to know that Mondays I mop, Wednesdays I do the bathrooms, and so forth. My memory sucks sometimes, too.

But, according to Hubby, what I do each day doesn't constitute "cleaning the house."

Oh yes, I will definitely explain.

Here's a rough outline of my weekly cleaning schedule:

Monday- Straighten entire house (pick up big things, clear off counters/tables/flat spaces), sweep, vacuum and mop the floors.

Tuesday- Dust (though this usually gets done every other Tuesday).

Wednesday- Bathrooms

Thursday- Deeper cleaning of kitchen counters, bedroom, vacuum stairs (again, usually every other week on that one).

Friday- Touch up for the weekend.

Each day I do a general straightening, just so things don't pile up. On the weekends I relax, and as a result, come Monday morning again, our house looks like a hurricane hit

Ending a Mom Friendship Because of Their Kids: Taboo or Understandable?

Mom Friendships.

We moms need them just as much as our kids need social interaction with other children. We need friends to talk to, to share advice with, to bond with, and to make motherhood just a little easier.

So, what happens when someone you become Mom Friends with has nightmare children?

Do you speak up? Do you keep your mouth shut in the name of having a Mom Friend? Is it wrong if you want to end the friendship; does that make you a bad person?

The subject of Mom Friendships has come up quite a bit for me lately, and with each conversation I'm a part of, the same problem is posed, and the same question follows:

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"I like her, but her kids are absolutely horrible. I just don't know if I can handle being around them anymore, but I can't end a friendship with someone because of their kids, can I? That's really wrong of me, isn't it?"

Because of what I learned from my past, I now answer this with, "Why is that wrong of you?"

I was once in a Mom Friendship that I wasn't sure about. The Mom herself was great; we had a lot in common as individuals, shared the same interests, and laughed (a lot) when we were together.

But her toddler was a whole different story.

This child was spoiled (to say the least). She dictated which restaurants the family ate at, where they shopped at, and even which car they drove when they went out, and the parents just gave in to the child to prevent a temper tantrum. It was their story that the child's temper tantrums were so violent that she threw up during them, due to her acid reflux, so it was just easier for them to give in to whatever the child wanted, because if they said no, they'd have a huge mess to clean up.

I shook my head at this when I was first explained it all, but I gave them the benefit of the doubt... until I saw it in person one day...

WTF Wednesday: The "Cool" Mom

Tonight was The Girl's last orchestra concert for the year. She's in the Cadet Orchestra, which consists of all 6th graders, and there's a glee club and then the Concert Orchestra, which consists of 7th and 8th graders. We stay and watch all of the performances, even though the Cadet Orchestra plays first.

As I was sitting there, watching the cafeteria fill with parents, I noticed one of the 7th grade glee club members had changed her look from the last concert... in the form of having dyed her hair lavender.

My first reaction was, "What mother lets her 13 year old dye their hair purple?" (Please spare me the comments of how judgmental I was being- that thought would cross anyone's mind if they say a kid under high school age with permanently dyed crazy colored hair.) I watched the purple-haired minor walk across the room, curious to see if her mom was there.

Emma Stone looked
hella cool with lavender hair.

She was. And it caused an inward spiraling in me that I never saw coming...

The mom was around my age, covered in tattoos (complete with some small stars on her face), long bright green finger nails, tattoos on her fingers, and wearing a Star Wars hoodie.

Most people in society would glance at her, covered in her tattoos, see her daughter with the bright lavender hair, and crinkle their nose and huff in disgust, muttering, "That's what's wrong with the world today."

Me? I suddenly began to question my Cool Mom status.

I'm known as Tatted Mom. I pride myself on individuality, on my bright red hair, on my colorfully tattooed

WTF Wednesday: Sally McCrossShakeProteinTireson

I sat back and watched as these new trends in fitness started about 2 years ago. I observed, even decided to try some of them a year ago- they weren't for me. But I watched my facebook newsfeed grow and grow with pictures of before and afters that showed little change, and advertisements for various programs and nutritional supplements, and because I'm an outside observer, I seriously scratch my head at all of it.

NONE of that sounds like a good time to me...

For today's post, I've decided to combine everything that I've actually seen or heard (or been a part of, first hand), that causes me to raise an eyebrow on this subject, and have a hypothetical conversation with a person who embodies all of these new trends in fitness.

And yes, because I understand this will show up in search engines under certain key words, I do feel a disclaimer is needed for those who newly find my blog, so here goes: Disclaimer: This is a HUMOR blog. My post today is one of my opinion, and it is meant to be funny. Yes, I understand the basic concepts in nutrition, exercise, and have studied these new fitness trends of recent years, which is why I can confidently express my confusion for them in a humorous way. If you lack a sense of humor, please move on and keep your comments to yourself. Thanks.


Hypothetical Conversation with Sally McCrossShakeProteinTireson

Me: Hey, Sally. How was your workout today?
Sally: It was awesome. I flipped a tire today!
Me: You flipped a tire?
Sally: Yep. I've been working up to this for weeks, and today I finally flipped it, all by myself.
Me: You seem happy about that, so rock on! I'm glad you flipped the tire!
Sally: Me too. I never thought I'd get to today!
Me: So, you've been building up to flipping a tire?
Sally: Well, yes and no. My personal trainer has had me on this awesome muscle building routine, and our first goal was for me to flip the tire. Woo hoo!
Me: That's cool.
Sally: Yeah, I'm just glad we skipped the burpees today. The last few times I've done them, I've thrown up afterwards. Cool, huh?
Me: Not really. Throwing up isn't cool.
Sally: My personal trainer says it's perfectly fine to throw up after working out. It shows that you are pushing your body to its limits, which is the only way change will occur.
Me: So, you are doing burpees until you vomit and flipping a tire? That doesn't sound like a good time to me, sorry.
Sally: All in the name of change, baby, and building muscle.
Me: Wait, I'm confused. I thought we had a conversation months ago about you wanting to hire a personal trainer to help you lose weight?
Sally: Yeah, we did. That's when I hired my personal trainer.
Me: Are they helping you lose weight?
Sally: Well, not yet, but my personal trainer says losing weight correctly takes time.
Me: Really? I've never heard of that. How much time?
Sally: A few months, I think. Weight loss only comes after I build muscle, which will then speed up my