Leave my mullet allone!

     In every ones life there inevitably comes the day when you ask yourself, "When did I stop being cool?". You will do this regardless of whether you were ever cool or not (cool was never a word commonly associated with teenage or young adult Fee). And this day is devastating for all of us, nobody ever sets out to lose that which they think makes them young! I came up with a few indicators of losing your "cool". If any of these apply to you, don't worry. You can get some of your cool back and I will go into that later, after we review some of my (and a few borrowed from friends) moments of sadness.

-You walk into a store and you find out that whatever your favorite style of shoe or jeans have been discontinued to keep up with the time, or as the sales associate calls, "getting rid of last decades horrors".

-The hairstyle you are sporting is also being sported on TV, on the flash backs to when the characters where younger!

-The infomercials on late night TV for the music of the best time in your life is described as "music that meant something, songs that told a story..." and, "they don't make music like that anymore..." What is wrong with "Once, twice, three times a lady..."???

-All the dance moves that you know are featured on spoof movies. (Running man anyone?)

last but certainly not least,

-All the shows about dating (Bachelorett) rub you wrong, simply because well, you looked hotter than that so many years ago! (I know in my mind I did!) I have a blurry, out of focus picture taken at dusk from a 1000ft away to prove it!!!

     So say that you have reached this moment...what do I do Fee? you ask, well the answer lies in you my friend. Do you really want to toss everything that you own every season and buy all new to look like you stepped out of the glossy magazines? Do you want to spend everyday trying to learn new lingo, new dance moves and look like an idiot showing off your moves trying to impress others? The truth is that I have no experience with losing what makes me cool. HAHAHAHA!! I jest! I don't have the answer or one size fits all fix. I try not to let my hairstyle get too far out of date, I try not to look like a goofball when I get dressed for the day...but if I fail at it, I forgive myself because God really only cares about what we look like on the inside and I remind myself that ultimately that is what is more important. I can look like a reject from Napoleon Dynamite and still get to heaven...thankfully we still have hope!!

Btw- I love all three people that read my blog faithfully! You all rock!!

Everyman for himself.

     As a mom, I always worry about what will happen if I were to get too sick to care for my family. Would they survive a day, a week? Now, the hubbers, he would survive- a debit card and a drive thru, yup, he would make it. What about Setti? Well, she would probably use my debit card to order pizza everyday, yup, she would survive. (Until the money ran out that is!) But what about the boys?

     Those poor, sweet, adorable, innocent, helpless boys... Okay, lets be real. They may be three and four, but they are not helpless! Today I feel a little under the weather, so I'm camped out on the couch trying to get some much needed rest and sipping on tea. It got very quiet in the house, and I heard the boys discussing why mommy left toast on the counter for them. (I didn't leave it for them, I simply forgot to eat my toast.) At some point I dosed off and in true mommy fashion, kept my ears open. I heard noises in the kitchen and for the most part, ignored it because my children would never do anything bad, right?? Hmmm...

     I woke up when I heard, "Get the knife Adam, get the biggest one that you can find. This is going to take work." WAIT- WHAT??? So Adam has a butter knife (that's the only knives that they are allowed to touch), and both are trying to cut their sandwich in half. Sure, it had so much peanut butter that it made my cholesterol go up just by looking at it and the jelly was more on their shirts than on the sandwich, but it could only be called a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I was actually impressed! I am a little ashamed that I did not make it for them, after all, aren't moms supposed super women who make pb&j sandwiches and cutoff the crust to make them easier to eat? I suppose that I can take a day off and let them help themselves.

     Now if I could only teach them to bring me a snack...and a Rockstar.