O100. I’m sitting on the beach at a swanky hotel drinking margaritas with my husband. We are having the most wonderful time alone and away from all the chaos. Then I hear a noise. FUCK it’s my daughter crying and I was only dreaming. I run upstairs with an 8 ounce bottle that my baby girl chugs down in a matter of seconds. I think to myself, “will she ever sleep through the night?” I guess tomorrow night I will start to Ferberize her.
0700
It’s morning time. I run upstairs to get hungry, screaming babies that I drag downstairs for breakfast and changing.
0745
Cute lazy sister shows up after I did the dishes with her starving children. More eggs to cook and more bacon to fry. If you are wondering where Party Husband is, well he is sound asleep in his throne. Are you shocked?
1000
Back inside after playing in the baby pool and sweating my face off from chasing my son, my nieces, and of course wearing the baby Bjorn that holds the baby girl in 95 degree weather. And where’s my lazy sister? She’s at the gym working on her cute figure.
1200
Lunchtime. I’m mixing baby food and preparing a sandwich for my son at the same time. My son is throwing his carrots on the wall, while my baby girl is screaming bloody murder because her teeth hurt.
1300
Run up stairs to put baby boy to sleep while my little girl is screaming her brains out cause I have left her. Run back downstairs, pick up my little girl and then of course she pukes up her sweet potatoes and bananas all over me and herself.
1330
Change little girl’s clothes and stick bottle in her mouth. Finally some calmness.
1400
Bring baby girl upstairs for a nap.
1420
Baby girl is screaming so I run back up to her room to find that she pooped in her pants. I change her again and then the sheets. Put her back in the crib and it’s back downstairs for me. I should seriously train for a fucking marathon.
1430
Clean the house, fold the laundry, change my nasty clothes, put back toys, take out trash, and go through some bills if I have time.
1600
Babies wake up. Change them, make a snack, and begin afternoon activity. Coloring (which usually ends up on my sofa and walls), throwing the ball with my son while holding my little girl. Oh, and then a surprise visit from my sister and her kids. They are back again and of course hungry.
1700
Margarita and pizza time!!! Finally a drink! Friend shows up with her son so now there are 2 kids, 3 babies, and 4 adults. Party Mom gives up for a few minutes and lets the kids run wilds through the house. And did we have time to finish the Margaritas?? ABSOFUCKINLUTLY!!!
1830
Bath time. I drag my son and daughter upstairs. By this time of day my back is in serious pain and all I can think about is a nice muscle relaxer and another margarita. I bathe both my kids together and its nuts. My daughter is flipping over while my son keeps trying to stand up.
1900
Bedtime! Throw son in the crib while my daughter is crawling all over his room. Pick her up and bring her across the hall to her room. Kiss her on the cheek and put her down.
1915
Run back upstairs cause my son won’t go to sleep and bring him back downstairs. Let him watch a segment of the Wiggles while I continue to clean.
1930
Bring baby boy back up to his room. Run back downstairs finish cleaning and of course give Party Husband his dinner and scotch.
2000
FINALLY I’m done!!! Join hubby outside for a drink.
2100
FINALLY I’m in bed, but of course my husband expects to get laid.
0100
Party Mom is with Party Hubby at the black jack table in Vegas. Damn, I’m having the time of my life. Cocktail after cocktail and winnings after winnings. The smoke, people, everything is just amazing. Then all of a sudden a loud bang went off in the casino. I think to myself, “is there a terrorist here?” FUCK, not again, it’s my baby girl and I’m only dreaming. Well I guess tomorrow night I will try to Ferberize her….
Until Next Time,
Party Mom
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Friday, July 9, 2010
HELP!!!! I need a vacation, from my vacation
This past weekend Party Mom packed up her entire family to head to the beach. My car was loaded with clothes, diapers, toys, formula, and every swimming raft possible. I must have made 50 trips to Target before we left. This how the chaos began…
It started off with an 8-hour drive that should have taken only 6. We drove in a torrential downpour most of the way, which caused us to miss our exit. So my mom, my daughter, my son, and I drove forty miles out of the way. It sucked! I was crammed in the back between both of their car seats trying to calm them down. Oh and you try being stuck back there for 7 hours. I was so nauseous that I convinced myself I was pregnant. When the clouds parted and sun came up, we picked-up the pace just enough to get pulled over. Yep, at the end of a 7-hour hellacious ride we were pulled over with 2 screaming kids, and right when we stopped my daughter threw up everywhere. The best part about it was when the cop almost pulled out a gun on my mother. She seemed to think it was ok to get out of the car when we were waiting for the policeman. I swear I thought she was gonna be arrested. And after an hour of sitting there while the cop ran a background check, we were sent away with an expensive speeding ticket and a stupid pin that the officer gave to my son thinking it would make him happy. Wondering where hubby was? Well, don’t worry about him. He got to take a nice, quiet, leisurely drive by himself later that day. And his 6-hour trip took only 5.
And then there’s the babysitter I hired. She wasn’t exactly a sitter. She was more like the teenager daughter that I don’t have (or want). In fact I had to babysit her, too! She was 19, adorable, obnoxious, and the daughter of a pilot who was actually the owner of a private plane company. My daughter would be crying for a bottle and she would be putting on more lip gloss. Instead of helping me wash their bathing suits, she would be reading my US Weekly. As irritated as I was, when you have 2 kids that young, you take what you can get.
Here we were staying at a beautiful new house and I spent my days making breakfast, lunch, and dinner for all of the children. I love my older sister to death, but the girl didn’t lift a finger and for some reason her kids went to me for “cheesy eggs” every morning and everything else throughout the day. She would sit there like a little doll dressed perfectly. Her hair would be combed and she’d be holding a cup of coffee, but did nothing to help. I wanted to strangle her so badly, but she just looked too damn cute for me to do that. I was constantly changing all the kids and bringing all the kids to the pool by myself. I would try to nap them, but why would they ever want to do that? Wondering where my babysitter was? She was filing her nails while I was trying to put the kids to sleep.
Then there was Party Husband and WHAT A WASTE OF SPACE he was. He really didn’t do anything. In fact I think he is helpless. He’d just stand there smiling, and what a beautiful smile he has, chatting away while my back was about to break due to children using me as their jungle gym. One day stands out in particular. After I made my gourmet breakfast for 10 and then dragged my children to the pool, he decided to show up hours later after a nice bike ride. He then informed me that he was going to jump in the pool with the kids and then head to the bar for lunch and drinks. Oh, and he also gave me his dirty shorts to take back and wash. Shocking, right? Not really.
And I don’t want to forget my pregnant cousin. Her hormones were running wild and if you put her Teflon pans in the dishwasher she would turn into the exorcist. She was cranky, bitchy, and a bit scary. And I still love her!
So I ask myself if this was a vacation. Maybe it wasn’t Vegas with the girls, but we still had a blast. I worked my butt off and as much as I wanted to kill my lazy sister, lazy husband, useless babysitter, and pour Prozac down my cousin’s throat, there is nothing better than being with my family. We laughed our faces off! Wondering where Party Mom was? Well, don’t worry about her. She enjoyed several cold cocktails while chasing the kids.
Until Next Time,
Party Mom
It started off with an 8-hour drive that should have taken only 6. We drove in a torrential downpour most of the way, which caused us to miss our exit. So my mom, my daughter, my son, and I drove forty miles out of the way. It sucked! I was crammed in the back between both of their car seats trying to calm them down. Oh and you try being stuck back there for 7 hours. I was so nauseous that I convinced myself I was pregnant. When the clouds parted and sun came up, we picked-up the pace just enough to get pulled over. Yep, at the end of a 7-hour hellacious ride we were pulled over with 2 screaming kids, and right when we stopped my daughter threw up everywhere. The best part about it was when the cop almost pulled out a gun on my mother. She seemed to think it was ok to get out of the car when we were waiting for the policeman. I swear I thought she was gonna be arrested. And after an hour of sitting there while the cop ran a background check, we were sent away with an expensive speeding ticket and a stupid pin that the officer gave to my son thinking it would make him happy. Wondering where hubby was? Well, don’t worry about him. He got to take a nice, quiet, leisurely drive by himself later that day. And his 6-hour trip took only 5.
And then there’s the babysitter I hired. She wasn’t exactly a sitter. She was more like the teenager daughter that I don’t have (or want). In fact I had to babysit her, too! She was 19, adorable, obnoxious, and the daughter of a pilot who was actually the owner of a private plane company. My daughter would be crying for a bottle and she would be putting on more lip gloss. Instead of helping me wash their bathing suits, she would be reading my US Weekly. As irritated as I was, when you have 2 kids that young, you take what you can get.
Here we were staying at a beautiful new house and I spent my days making breakfast, lunch, and dinner for all of the children. I love my older sister to death, but the girl didn’t lift a finger and for some reason her kids went to me for “cheesy eggs” every morning and everything else throughout the day. She would sit there like a little doll dressed perfectly. Her hair would be combed and she’d be holding a cup of coffee, but did nothing to help. I wanted to strangle her so badly, but she just looked too damn cute for me to do that. I was constantly changing all the kids and bringing all the kids to the pool by myself. I would try to nap them, but why would they ever want to do that? Wondering where my babysitter was? She was filing her nails while I was trying to put the kids to sleep.
Then there was Party Husband and WHAT A WASTE OF SPACE he was. He really didn’t do anything. In fact I think he is helpless. He’d just stand there smiling, and what a beautiful smile he has, chatting away while my back was about to break due to children using me as their jungle gym. One day stands out in particular. After I made my gourmet breakfast for 10 and then dragged my children to the pool, he decided to show up hours later after a nice bike ride. He then informed me that he was going to jump in the pool with the kids and then head to the bar for lunch and drinks. Oh, and he also gave me his dirty shorts to take back and wash. Shocking, right? Not really.
And I don’t want to forget my pregnant cousin. Her hormones were running wild and if you put her Teflon pans in the dishwasher she would turn into the exorcist. She was cranky, bitchy, and a bit scary. And I still love her!
So I ask myself if this was a vacation. Maybe it wasn’t Vegas with the girls, but we still had a blast. I worked my butt off and as much as I wanted to kill my lazy sister, lazy husband, useless babysitter, and pour Prozac down my cousin’s throat, there is nothing better than being with my family. We laughed our faces off! Wondering where Party Mom was? Well, don’t worry about her. She enjoyed several cold cocktails while chasing the kids.
Until Next Time,
Party Mom
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
From Granola to Gucci
If you had bumped into Party Mom about 10 years ago she wouldn’t be looking so good. In fact she’d be looking like a big mess. And Party Mom would not have been carrying her gorgeous Chanel bag that is attached at all times. Back then, she preferred something ripped, baggy, shapeless, and probably bought at Value Village. Her hair was a dyed shade of pinkish red and she was always decked out in her finest patchwork and designer Birkenstocks. Party Mom's somewhat sorted past goes something like this:
After college, I moved to a beautiful mountain town to take a year and ski. Oh and did I ski!!! I was up and down those mountains in every which way but skiing. I partied my brains out and became a so-called “hippie.” I worked in a low rent restaurant that my sister referred to as the Waffle House of the mountains. My roommates were tattooed from head to toe and had dozens of piercings.
When my parents came to visit on occasion you would have thought they were going to a funeral. My mom would break down crying when she would take one look at me or the guy I was dating. And my father was so freaked out that he could not even hold down his vodka. They were shocked and disgusted.
Eventually mom and dad yanked me out of the mountains with the threat of being cut off. If I were to be cut off who would pay for the ugly clothes, camping gear, concert tickets and EVERYTHING else that defined me as a hippie or in reality a “credit card hippie.”
I moved myself to the big city and I absolutely hated it. I lived across from Prada, Barneys, and every other beautiful store known. My mom made it her mission to glamorize her daughter. She would force me to sit at the makeup counter, but I would cry so hard that the mascara would wash right off. She would spend hours making me try on every shirt, shoe, and dress. She would do just about anything including bribery. But I wasn’t having it. I lived in fanciest area surrounded by the most beautiful people and I looked like a homeless person.
Now, fast forward a few years, but still several years before I became Party Mom, or even Party Wife. I had a HUGE life changing moment. It was at Saks and there it was. The MOST beautiful brown Prada bag. I thought could this be me? It’s not black. It will go with all my neutral hippie clothes, and it’s a little sophisticated. SO I BOUGHT IT!! I felt like the most beautiful hippie ever. This is all I will ever need, so I thought…
From that moment on I began to shop and shop and shop. My mom’s smile grew bigger and so did my fathers Amex bill. My clothes got a little tighter, my boobs got more visible, and within seconds I was a changed woman.
Was it a change for the better? Hell yeah! I managed to attract the most handsome and delicious husband in the world. I live in a great house and I have the most precious happy children in the world. Do I love nice things? ABSOLUTELY!!! But do I only buy designer clothes? Not at all! I’m Party Mom and I can make myself look good in almost any store. I shop everywhere from Wet Seal to high end stores. And yes if I have it I flaunt it! Why would you not???
So ladies and especially you single ones, take my advice. Don’t cover up what you have. Flash those boobies and your booty. Shorten those skirts and NEVER forget to wax. Take down your hair, but you may need to purchase a flat iron first. Darken that eye makeup and brighten those lips. And then take yourself out on the town. I promise when the works done it will all be worth it.
Until Next Time,
Party Mom
After college, I moved to a beautiful mountain town to take a year and ski. Oh and did I ski!!! I was up and down those mountains in every which way but skiing. I partied my brains out and became a so-called “hippie.” I worked in a low rent restaurant that my sister referred to as the Waffle House of the mountains. My roommates were tattooed from head to toe and had dozens of piercings.
When my parents came to visit on occasion you would have thought they were going to a funeral. My mom would break down crying when she would take one look at me or the guy I was dating. And my father was so freaked out that he could not even hold down his vodka. They were shocked and disgusted.
Eventually mom and dad yanked me out of the mountains with the threat of being cut off. If I were to be cut off who would pay for the ugly clothes, camping gear, concert tickets and EVERYTHING else that defined me as a hippie or in reality a “credit card hippie.”
I moved myself to the big city and I absolutely hated it. I lived across from Prada, Barneys, and every other beautiful store known. My mom made it her mission to glamorize her daughter. She would force me to sit at the makeup counter, but I would cry so hard that the mascara would wash right off. She would spend hours making me try on every shirt, shoe, and dress. She would do just about anything including bribery. But I wasn’t having it. I lived in fanciest area surrounded by the most beautiful people and I looked like a homeless person.
Now, fast forward a few years, but still several years before I became Party Mom, or even Party Wife. I had a HUGE life changing moment. It was at Saks and there it was. The MOST beautiful brown Prada bag. I thought could this be me? It’s not black. It will go with all my neutral hippie clothes, and it’s a little sophisticated. SO I BOUGHT IT!! I felt like the most beautiful hippie ever. This is all I will ever need, so I thought…
From that moment on I began to shop and shop and shop. My mom’s smile grew bigger and so did my fathers Amex bill. My clothes got a little tighter, my boobs got more visible, and within seconds I was a changed woman.
Was it a change for the better? Hell yeah! I managed to attract the most handsome and delicious husband in the world. I live in a great house and I have the most precious happy children in the world. Do I love nice things? ABSOLUTELY!!! But do I only buy designer clothes? Not at all! I’m Party Mom and I can make myself look good in almost any store. I shop everywhere from Wet Seal to high end stores. And yes if I have it I flaunt it! Why would you not???
So ladies and especially you single ones, take my advice. Don’t cover up what you have. Flash those boobies and your booty. Shorten those skirts and NEVER forget to wax. Take down your hair, but you may need to purchase a flat iron first. Darken that eye makeup and brighten those lips. And then take yourself out on the town. I promise when the works done it will all be worth it.
Until Next Time,
Party Mom
Thursday, June 24, 2010
I HATE CHEAP
To me one of the worst qualities someone can have is being cheap. It really disgusts Party Mom more than anything. I don’t care if you are rich or poor. NO EXCUSE. Be a sport, grow some balls (or Boobs), pick up the tab, and smile about it.
Whether I’m on a trip, out to lunch, or simply getting drinks with my friends everyone takes turn paying. There have been plenty of times that I’ve bought more rounds of drinks than the person sitting next to me. But that doesn’t matter. My friends and I have a very simple system. IT ALWAYS COMES OUT EVEN. I don’t care if it’s a week later or a year later. We always take turns. Just don’t be cheap.
Let me also explain that if you shop at Kmart or the Dollar Store that is not being cheap. Or not buying something if you can’t afford it. That’s being smart. Whether you pick up the tab at McDonalds or The Palm it does not matter. Well maybe a little, but I think you get my point.
See cheapness is one of the biggest flaws a person can have. You don’t want to be that person who never picks up a tab or won’t split the meal down the middle due to a $5 or $10 appetizer. It’s just gross! And men listen up us women do not like cheap guys. Cheap men are pussies, sissies, or any other word that denounces their manly hood. We like men who want to spend a little more and take care of the people around them. Believe me it’s an ego booster for them too! Take Tony Soprano for example. He’s always got the bill and he always has the cash. He is the first one to reach in his pocket and he is the most respected. And I actually find him sexy!! I really really do. I know most women reading this are shocked, but there’s just something about him I love.
So readers take Party Moms advice and next time when you’re waiting for the table and sitting at a bar it’s YOUR turn pay. And honestly I don’t care if it isn’t! Put up a fight for it if you have to. The one who ends up paying is the winner in my eyes. If you think about it generous people are usually more fun, have more friends, and provide great energy. Trust me you don’t want Party Mom to see you out in a bar sitting on your fat butt while your friend picks up the tab and you say NOTHING. Believe me I will embarrass the hell out of you! And if you aren’t sure what to do, just think to yourself, what would Tony do?
Until Next Time,
Party Mom
Whether I’m on a trip, out to lunch, or simply getting drinks with my friends everyone takes turn paying. There have been plenty of times that I’ve bought more rounds of drinks than the person sitting next to me. But that doesn’t matter. My friends and I have a very simple system. IT ALWAYS COMES OUT EVEN. I don’t care if it’s a week later or a year later. We always take turns. Just don’t be cheap.
Let me also explain that if you shop at Kmart or the Dollar Store that is not being cheap. Or not buying something if you can’t afford it. That’s being smart. Whether you pick up the tab at McDonalds or The Palm it does not matter. Well maybe a little, but I think you get my point.
See cheapness is one of the biggest flaws a person can have. You don’t want to be that person who never picks up a tab or won’t split the meal down the middle due to a $5 or $10 appetizer. It’s just gross! And men listen up us women do not like cheap guys. Cheap men are pussies, sissies, or any other word that denounces their manly hood. We like men who want to spend a little more and take care of the people around them. Believe me it’s an ego booster for them too! Take Tony Soprano for example. He’s always got the bill and he always has the cash. He is the first one to reach in his pocket and he is the most respected. And I actually find him sexy!! I really really do. I know most women reading this are shocked, but there’s just something about him I love.
So readers take Party Moms advice and next time when you’re waiting for the table and sitting at a bar it’s YOUR turn pay. And honestly I don’t care if it isn’t! Put up a fight for it if you have to. The one who ends up paying is the winner in my eyes. If you think about it generous people are usually more fun, have more friends, and provide great energy. Trust me you don’t want Party Mom to see you out in a bar sitting on your fat butt while your friend picks up the tab and you say NOTHING. Believe me I will embarrass the hell out of you! And if you aren’t sure what to do, just think to yourself, what would Tony do?
Until Next Time,
Party Mom
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
I'm the REAL Housewife
According to the dictionary, the definition of a housewife is “a woman who manages the household while her husband goes out and earns the family income.” So after watching all the episodes of “Real Housives” of Orange County, New York, New Jersey, and, of course, Atlanta, it occurred to me that not all, but most of these women are NOT housewives.
Half the women on the show have jobs and some don’t have kids. Quite a few don’t even have husbands! And I’m certain I’ve never seen any of them managing a house. In the show, the women are seen mostly working, socializing, and of course fighting. Except for Teresa. You go, girl! 4 kids, a 12,000 square foot house, dinner on the table by 5, and no maid or nanny! You are a real housewife!!! Maybe a little crazy, but I give you big props!
So why wouldn’t Bravo want me? After all, I am the ultimate housewife. I have absolutely NO income coming in. In fact, some may call me a parasite. I suck my husband dry as much I can. I live in the suburbs. I drive a Volvo. Most of my days are spent organizing, planning meals, crying from exhaustion, signing up for activities, cleaning, smiling, then crying again, planning play dates, driving here, driving there, and basically managing the chaos in the Party Mom household. Oh, and how could I forget taking picture after picture on my phone and sending them out to everyone? (I really don’t know why I do that, since I actually can’t stand when people send pictures over and over of their kids.)
So, Bravo Network, if you’re looking for a Real Housewife who really is real, then cast me!!! I can get just as trashy, loud, obnoxious, rude, crude, and annoying as any of the women on your show. I can down just as much champagne and wine as they do. I’m a socialite with tons of friends. And whenever this Party Mom is out on the town, it’s an episode that shouldn’t be missed!
Until Next Time,
Party Mom
Half the women on the show have jobs and some don’t have kids. Quite a few don’t even have husbands! And I’m certain I’ve never seen any of them managing a house. In the show, the women are seen mostly working, socializing, and of course fighting. Except for Teresa. You go, girl! 4 kids, a 12,000 square foot house, dinner on the table by 5, and no maid or nanny! You are a real housewife!!! Maybe a little crazy, but I give you big props!
So why wouldn’t Bravo want me? After all, I am the ultimate housewife. I have absolutely NO income coming in. In fact, some may call me a parasite. I suck my husband dry as much I can. I live in the suburbs. I drive a Volvo. Most of my days are spent organizing, planning meals, crying from exhaustion, signing up for activities, cleaning, smiling, then crying again, planning play dates, driving here, driving there, and basically managing the chaos in the Party Mom household. Oh, and how could I forget taking picture after picture on my phone and sending them out to everyone? (I really don’t know why I do that, since I actually can’t stand when people send pictures over and over of their kids.)
So, Bravo Network, if you’re looking for a Real Housewife who really is real, then cast me!!! I can get just as trashy, loud, obnoxious, rude, crude, and annoying as any of the women on your show. I can down just as much champagne and wine as they do. I’m a socialite with tons of friends. And whenever this Party Mom is out on the town, it’s an episode that shouldn’t be missed!
Until Next Time,
Party Mom
Thursday, June 10, 2010
I'M BACK IN MY SKINNY JEANS!!!!!
Two years, two babies, and a hundred pounds later Party Mom is back in a size two!! Yep I did it and believe me it SUCKED!!!
I hate dieting!!! I love everything about food too much: the smell, the taste, the consistency. There’s pretty much not a food that I don’t like. But hey I’m a woman and we all want to look and feel our best! Almost every single one of us is watching our weight in some way or another. But let’s be honest, it’s not fun. And whoever says that they don’t like delicious chocolate cake or a cheesy pizza is lying or just plain crazy.
I have a real problem with all these diet books. Unless you live by everything it tells you for the rest of your life you will never stay skinny. Take the Atkins diet for example. If you don’t eat carbs for the rest of your life then you may stay thin, but who can do that? And that stupid raw fish diet! So damn unhealthy and not realistic! Then there’s Weight Watchers. Who has time to count all those damn points. I have enough trouble during the day keeping track of what time my daughter had her last bottle.
To me it’s pretty simple. The heavier the food is the heavier you are! You can have the biggest cheeseburger ever, but you better only eat a quarter of it. If your side item is fries then you better only eat two! And that desert you want, go ahead and get it! Don’t deprive yourself. But remember you can only have one bite. The more you put in your body the more you put on! Try eating some watermelon. It’s basically flavored water. By the time you’re stuffed from it you will have already peed it out.
So take my advice and don’t read those expensive books. Just eat healthy and do not eat a lot. Don’t munch on a million appetizers at a party before dinner is served. If you do then you better pick, and I mean pick, at dinner. Crash diet if you need to fit into that dress. Pick up some bad habits temporarily. Diet coke, red bull, Adderall, Ritalin, and anything else that will make your jaw go WITHOUT putting food in it! Eat whatever you want, but keep in mind that the more bites you take the bigger your butt will get!
And remember ladies, if your stomach is growling your new diet is definitely working. Oh and if you’re feeling faint, you’ve for sure reached your goal weight!
Until Next Time,
Party Mom
I hate dieting!!! I love everything about food too much: the smell, the taste, the consistency. There’s pretty much not a food that I don’t like. But hey I’m a woman and we all want to look and feel our best! Almost every single one of us is watching our weight in some way or another. But let’s be honest, it’s not fun. And whoever says that they don’t like delicious chocolate cake or a cheesy pizza is lying or just plain crazy.
I have a real problem with all these diet books. Unless you live by everything it tells you for the rest of your life you will never stay skinny. Take the Atkins diet for example. If you don’t eat carbs for the rest of your life then you may stay thin, but who can do that? And that stupid raw fish diet! So damn unhealthy and not realistic! Then there’s Weight Watchers. Who has time to count all those damn points. I have enough trouble during the day keeping track of what time my daughter had her last bottle.
To me it’s pretty simple. The heavier the food is the heavier you are! You can have the biggest cheeseburger ever, but you better only eat a quarter of it. If your side item is fries then you better only eat two! And that desert you want, go ahead and get it! Don’t deprive yourself. But remember you can only have one bite. The more you put in your body the more you put on! Try eating some watermelon. It’s basically flavored water. By the time you’re stuffed from it you will have already peed it out.
So take my advice and don’t read those expensive books. Just eat healthy and do not eat a lot. Don’t munch on a million appetizers at a party before dinner is served. If you do then you better pick, and I mean pick, at dinner. Crash diet if you need to fit into that dress. Pick up some bad habits temporarily. Diet coke, red bull, Adderall, Ritalin, and anything else that will make your jaw go WITHOUT putting food in it! Eat whatever you want, but keep in mind that the more bites you take the bigger your butt will get!
And remember ladies, if your stomach is growling your new diet is definitely working. Oh and if you’re feeling faint, you’ve for sure reached your goal weight!
Until Next Time,
Party Mom
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Like Mother Like Daughter
If you know anything about me I absolutely despise and have no patience while looking through sale racks. There is usually so much crap that’s so unorganized and unless your shoe size in gigantic its slim pickens.
The other day my daughter and I ran inside Neimans to look for a specific pair of shoes. After not finding them, and believe me Party Mom is still looking, I decide to check out the sale racks. Of course I saw nothing. But my eyes did catch a pair of shoes not because I liked them, but because they were so damn ugly! Probably the ugliest color orange I have ever seen!
Anyways, I touched them and said quietly to myself, “THESE ARE UGLY.” In less than a second after saying that my beautiful, delicious, perfect little girl spit up all over them, the rack, and a BEAUTIFUL PAIR of MANOLOS. I thought holy shit, WTF!!!
So what did I do? Well I almost threw up too!!! I was so embarrassed. I looked around took my daughters blanket and wiped off the shoe, the rack, and SCRUBBED the Manolos at the same time praying that nobody saw or smelled it. Then quietly bolted out of Neimans!!!
So they say the apple doesn’t fall from the tree. Or like mother like daughter. And this totally proves it! Sometimes when I see all those shoes piled up like trash and everyone hovering around them I get sick, but I just try to keep it to myself. Leave it to my baby girl and she will say and do as I feel!
Until Next Time,
Party Mom
The other day my daughter and I ran inside Neimans to look for a specific pair of shoes. After not finding them, and believe me Party Mom is still looking, I decide to check out the sale racks. Of course I saw nothing. But my eyes did catch a pair of shoes not because I liked them, but because they were so damn ugly! Probably the ugliest color orange I have ever seen!
Anyways, I touched them and said quietly to myself, “THESE ARE UGLY.” In less than a second after saying that my beautiful, delicious, perfect little girl spit up all over them, the rack, and a BEAUTIFUL PAIR of MANOLOS. I thought holy shit, WTF!!!
So what did I do? Well I almost threw up too!!! I was so embarrassed. I looked around took my daughters blanket and wiped off the shoe, the rack, and SCRUBBED the Manolos at the same time praying that nobody saw or smelled it. Then quietly bolted out of Neimans!!!
So they say the apple doesn’t fall from the tree. Or like mother like daughter. And this totally proves it! Sometimes when I see all those shoes piled up like trash and everyone hovering around them I get sick, but I just try to keep it to myself. Leave it to my baby girl and she will say and do as I feel!
Until Next Time,
Party Mom
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