Category Archives: happiness

Whatever Wednesday: Top 10 Veg-out movies

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When I’m sick, stressed, or just plain need to veg out, I have certain go to movies. Everyone does, right? In no particular order are my top 5 10 12 go to flicks for vegging out when my brain just can’t take any more reality:

1) Pretty Woman – C’mon. Did you really expect this to NOT be on the list? It’s Richard Gere.

2) Nothing to Lose – Martin Lawrence and Tim Robbins crack me up. My favorite scene? “There’s a spider on your head, man.” Or maybe it’s “Please don’t kill me freaky Jason. I said PLEASE don’t kill me freaky Jason!”

3) Star Trek 2009 – I’m a huge Star Trek fan. No, I don’t dress up and go to conventions. I watch the shows from the safety of my couch. Away from the Klingons and Romulans. Plus, how can you NOT love a movie that opens after the title scene with a car chase scene like this one?A Badass little kid, a vintage corvette, Sabatoge by the Beastie Boys and a tough ass RoboCop? C’mon. What’s NOT to love?

4) The Italian Job – Robbery, Mark Wahlberg, boat chases, Mark Wahlberg, gold, Mark Wahlberg, Austin Mini Coopers, Mark Wahlberg, Ed Norton, Mark Wahlberg, oh, and Charlize Theron. And Mark Wahlberg. Not to mention the kick arse opening of the movie – the opening robbery and subsequent boat race make me drool.

5) PCU – It’s Jeremy friggin Piven. Need I say more? I think not.

6) Funny Farm – Yellow Dog. Ducks. Snakes. Payphone in the house. Bones in the garden. Drunk mailman. Lamb Fries. I think we can stop at Lamb Fries.

7) Blazing Saddles – Farting Cowboys. Yes, Farting Cowboys.

8) Robin Hood Men in Tights – Cary Elwes & Dave Chappelle rock it in this flick. Plus Men in Tights + Mel Brooks? Instantly funny. Plus there’s the bonus of rapping men in tights.

9) Hitch – Quite possibly one of the best romantic comedies I’ve ever seen. I love Will Smith. I love Kevin James. His dancing cracks me up. CLASSIC. Making the Pizza. Q-tip. Moving the feet. Working it.

10) Dirty Dancing – Did you really think I’d not put this on the list? One of the BEST veg out movies of all time. ALL TIME. I miss Patrick Swayze. My favorite scene by far is when Jennifer & Patrick head to the woods & the lake to practice lifts and balance.

11) The Princess Bride – Filled with highly inconceivable ROUS’s, dedicated to the soon to come mawwiage of a Man and Wife not in the grips of “True Love” as well as to the noble profession of revenge, this movie is worth repeating as much as the name of Inigo Montoya. Beware if you killed his father. You will die. It was VERY difficult to pick a clip for this one. However, the clip I chose is one that is not often cited yet hilarious nonetheless. Anybody want a peanut?

12) Spaceballs – If you’ve not seen this movie, go watch it now. Seriously. Why the hell are you still here? Combing the desert, reading scripts on camera, spoofs on the Alien movie, Star Wars, Darth Vader, Pizza the Hut, Jamming the Radar, Going plaid, grown men playing with dolls, Joan Rivers as a virginity alerting robot, this movie has it all. It’s enough to make your head spin. When will when then be now? We’re at now now. Make your now now watching this movie.

We are ALL Mother Superiors

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According to Wikipedia, a mother superior is an abbess or other nun in charge of a Christian religious order or congregation, a convent or house of women under vows.

She is not defined as a particular ethnicity.

She is not defined by her language.

She is not defined by her skin.

She is, however, defined by her beliefs.

She is defined by her practice of those beliefs.

A Mother Superior is in charge of a household.

She rules the roost. Expects things to run in a particular order. HER order.

HER order may be perfection.

It may be defined by acts.

It may be defined by compassion.

It may be defined by dedication.

It may be defined by achievement.

It may be defined by satisfaction.

It may be defined by mood.

But ultimately, it is HER decision to decide how to rule her roost.

Not the decision of any other Mother Superior. But HERS.

As Mothers, in a home, we are all our own MOTHER SUPERIORS. We rule the roost. We call the shots. We ensure our philosophies, ingrained within us by our own Mother Superiors and HER Mother Superior and her Mother Superior and her Mother Superior and so on, are also ingrained within our offspring. Or not.

In each of our own private Abbeys, we rule.

Our children gather together at schools, at churches, at public events, at parties, play dates, and museums.

Enter the beauty of Chaos.

Our children play together. They learn together. No matter what our practice or beliefs, they play and learn together.

Or not. They play together IF they are allowed to play.

They will grow up to rule their own roosts one day.

Do we want them to grow up to do this as judgmental cynical women?

Do we want to encourage them to judge every move they make by the achievements of others? Should we do this? Should they?

Why is it in our nature to compare ourselves to the Mom down the block? The overachieving Betty Crocker? The PTA Mom who works tireless nights? The ultimate attachment, co-sleeping, EC training, breastfeeding, home birth mom who has done everything perfectly compared to us? Are we ready to send our own daughters helplessly down that same road? Are we?

Do we want them to grow up thinking that they have failed at Motherhood simply because they are the wrong ethnicity, the wrong class, the wrong everything?

Do we want our daughters growing up to think they have failed at Motherhood because all they can manage to put on that day is the same pajamas they have had on for two days?

Or do we want them to realize that a LOT of moms are exactly like that? That life happens. And sometimes? Life is depressing. Sometimes life requires we work harder at it to be successful.

I am not ready to sell my daughters down Keeping Up with the Joneses Lane. Not ready to ship them off to Just Keep Smiling Circle or Snap Out of It Drive.

I’m ready to send them soaring down Robert Frost’s Road in a Yellow Wood – urging them to discover the path not taken and make all the difference in the world. I want them to be Free to be themselves, not the vision I have for them. I want them to amaze me. To blow me away with their own dreams, their own passions, their own realized wisdom and growth. I want them to be happy. Happy and Free.

I want them to know that some of the best things in life don’t require awesome grades. They don’t require the bank account of Donald Trump. I want my children to value life. To value family. To realize that the best things in life cannot be bought. For any price.

I tell my daughters on a consistent basis that they can be anything they want to be IF they work hard enough at it.

I also tell them I will always love them as long as they are working to the fulfill their potential. If they are slacking, yes, I will chide them. But not to the point of derision. Not to the point of sleepless nights. Not to the point of bordering on abuse.

I will love them when they get a B.

I will love them when they decide to skip college.

I will love them.

I will love them because they are my children.

I will love them and hug them and squeeze them forever, successful or not, I will love them with all my heart.

If that makes me a Slacker mom, then so be it.

My kids, I think, are okay with that.

Postpartum Voice of the Week: Allison from O My Family

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I did not have a clue Wednesday morning who/what to choose for my Postpartum Voice of the week today.

Then Allison from O My Family tweeted an amazing post, “Proof that I am in a better place.”

And I knew.

In her post, Allison thoroughly enjoys cuddling with her son as he sleeps on her chest.

Sure, it sounds innocent and as normal as could be for any mother and child. But for a mom with a Postpartum Mood Disorder, the ability to enjoy a “normal” moment with our babies is often beyond our reach. It fell beyond my own reach for the longest time. Then one day, as I sat watching all three of my children play together peacefully, normal slammed into me.

I wish this moment for every woman struggling with a Postpartum Mood Disorder. We fight so hard against the darkness which envelops us after we give birth. The sunshine is always so much sweeter once the fog has lifted.

As Allison so eloquently closes her post: “By the end I was in tears as the joy flowed over me and I was hit like a brick wall with the realization that this is who I am. This is me, this is my son, this is reality.

And it is so, so good.”

It IS good.

I wish you so many more moments like this in the months and years to come. You will certainly have earned them!

P.S. Allison, grab the graphic above and slap it up on your blog, linking back to this post. Brag about your status as the Postpartum Voice of the Week! You deserve it!

What are you grateful for today?

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I’ll admit this post is more for me.

It’s been a rough few days with the kids – lots of testing of boundaries and what not. But kids are like that. I’m slap worn out. Things are looking up but I still could use a pick me up.

Plus the kids are busy having fun of their own right now which means mommy is having a hard time thinking straight enough to blog about anything too terribly serious.

So as I struggled to think about what I could blog about as they shrieked and screamed, I settled on typing in three things for which I am grateful. It’s an exercise I suggest to most postpartum women who contact me and I could really use it today to help me focus on the positive.

Here goes:

I am grateful for:

1) Three happy, playful children

2) My ability to hear their shrieks, screams, and all the other little endearing sounds they make throughout the day.

3) My husband’s warm hugs

What are YOU grateful for today?

Just Talkin’ Tuesday 11.17.09: When did your fog lift?

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base photo credit "water droplet with fall reflection" by mahalie @ flickr

All the cliches you hear about not being happy are profoundly true. The grass is a dull shade of green – khaki almost, for me at least. The trees filled with sorrow, the birds didn’t chirp as cheerily, the leaves waved as if mourning, the air filled with the weight of the entire world as the clouds swooped down and swarmed around my mind, fogging my vision of anything in front of me. My grandfather called those infamous fogs “pea souppers.”

I remember the day my Pea Soupper existance finally lifted. It was a bright spring day. The trees stood ready to burst forth brand new leaves still wrapped tightly in buds, rain had rushed through – not drenched us but rather left just enough behind for everything to sparkle a bit. I can still smell the rain of that day if I close my eyes and think long enough. THIS is the day I want to hold close to my heart forever when I think of my PPD.

Sure, I remember the bad stuff. I remember the cold sleep room where I first checked out. I remember all too well the smell of the soap from the NICU. I remember the cold hard plastic and mechanical whirring of my breast pump, the flat pillow at the psych ward. But when I think of my PPD, I want to remember that spring day. The day that not only Mother Nature birthed yet another child of spring but I found myself reborn as a complete person – myself and motherhood all rolled into one – ready to take on the very world which waited at my feet. Had it still been raining I may have pulled over and danced a little jig.

So tell us – when did your fog lift?

Let’s get to just talkin’.