RESOLUTIONS ARE FOR SISSIES

I don’t usually make New Year’s resolutions.  I have commitment issues.  Making a promise to follow through on almost anything strikes real fear into the heart of this Smart Mouth(ed) Broad.  I’ve been married for 30 years.  What more do you want?   I like to win.  And making a resolution always ends with a failure, at least in my experience, more often than not within three thirty days.

2010 has not been the best of years.  I think the economy and society’s refusal to recognize my QUEENDOM has taken its toll on all of us.  But I am nothing if not a cock-eyed optimist.  I like to hope for the best and expect the worst……so that I’m never disappointed.  Cock-eyed, I tell ya. 
So this year I’m lowering my expectations.  Baby steps.  Here are my New Year’s resolutions for 2011.

1. I resolve not to gain any weight.  For years I’ve been trying to lose the equivalent of a 4 year old child.  Here’s to hoping that 2012 doesn’t have me lugging around (= to) a six year old.
2. I will stop myself from making promises that I can’t possibly keep.  i.e, “I will blog words of wisdom every single day of my 50th year.”  You didn’t believe that, did you?
3. I will read more books.  The Bible, trashy novels, spy novels, self-help books.  I will finish reading Eat, Pray, Love.  I am lolly-gagging for sure on this one.  I absolutely adore this woman author.  I feel a strong kinship.  The problem is that a dear friend of mine told me that once you get past “eat”, It all goes downhill….or is it uphill?  Whatever…it’s not so good.  So I'm lingering.  I’m savoring every word of the “eat” section.  I might even finish in 2011 if I pick up the pace just a bit.
4. I will drink the occasional martini.  Dirty.  With 3 olives.  Shaken, not stirred.  Hey, I’m 49+1 now.  Martinis are soooooooo grown up.  But writing “soooooooo” really isn’t, is it?
5. I will wine a lot.  It makes me feel better. 
6. I will eat no less some cookies.
7. I will cherish the “little moments” and enjoy the journey.  Sometimes, I get all caught up working toward and anticipating the big stuff.  A little older, a little wiser now, I realize that it’s the little moments that make all the difference. 
8. I will spend more time doing things that give me pleasure.   Get your mind out of the gutter, people. 
9. I will spend less time worrying.   I spend a good deal of time worrying.  No more.
10. I will find time to read more of my favorite blogs.  I miss you guys.  I miss knowing what is happening with your lives.  I will not let it become my life.  Balance.  Balance.  Balance.  That is the key. 
11. In 2011, I will strive for balance.  Wish me luck.  History has proven this to be a real challenge for me. 

Ladies and Gentlemen of the blogosphere, I raise my glass to you.  You are some of the best, most interesting, caring and talented people I’ve ever (not) met. 

Happy New Year, Ya’ll!

May all your dreams come true.

Love and Kisses,
SMB

MY NEW OBSESSION

I can’t help myself.  I have a girl crush on every single one of these ladies.  I’ve never recorded a talk show on my DVR (formerly known as Tivo) before now.  Oh sure, I recorded an Oprah here or there if there was some “can’t miss” topic or guest.  I loved Regis and Kathie Lee and then Regis and Kelly even more but I have never recorded the program.


The talk is touted as a “Mom” show.  While each of these women are indeed mothers, they collectively and individually bring so much more than motherhood to the table.  They discuss things that apply to all of our lives.  They aren’t too political.  They aren’t too professional.  They are fun.  They are interesting.  They are real.


You know that old dinner conversation topic, “Who would you invite (dead or alive) to a dinner party if you could have any guest you choose?  I have my set of people who I would invite.  But now……. I want an another dinner party, Scratch that….make it a luncheon with just these gals.


If you haven’t had a chance to check out “The Talk”, go now and set your DVR or better yet, check your local listing and watch it live.   I’ll wait………………

*****fingers tapping*****

OK, great!  Tomorrow, grab your beverage of choice and sit down a spell for a nice break with some new girlfriends. You’ll be glad that you did.  And I’m not just talking to the girls here.  My Harley Stud would never admit it, but let me tell you, when these ladies talk, he listens.  Or maybe he is just looking at cleavage but whatever… they grab his attention.

I wish that I could watch it live but that pesky thing called a job always gets in the way.  If you have the opportunity to watch live,  you can join in the interaction via facebook and/or twitter if you are so inclined.

Don’t forget.  Watch.
Hugs and Kisses,

SMB

Disclaimer:  I have in no way been compensated for my glowing review of this program.  I am not related to any person working on or in affiliation with The Talk.  I just love it.  And you will too.  Money back guaranteed!  And if you don’t love it too……What do you know anyway!

COZY TIME

 

Christmas has come and gone.  I can’t believe it.  Wasn’t it just October yesterday?  Is this a symptom of being 49+1?  Time flies when your knees pop and crack? 

As for the SMB household, we had a wonderful Christmas filled with love and laughter.  Daddy and Daisy left this morning.  I’m always sad to see them go.  The house is quiet tonight as My Harley Stud and I sit enjoying the fire, our bellies full of warm soup and good bread.  I just love the coziness of a quiet night at home.  What makes it cozy for me?  

• a fire in the fireplace
• a favorite throw over my legs
• a glass of good wine (or two)
• MHS
• lots of pillows
• a good book

What makes “cozy” for you?  Have you thought about it?  Find your cozy spot.  And enjoy it.  After all the craziness of the holiday, these are my “Words of Wisdom” for you. 

 

Enjoy!

 

Love and Kisses,

SMB

IF I WERE QUEEN

………and as it turns out, I  AM the Queen of EVERYTHING.  The problem is that not everyone acknowledges that fact. (Another problem I will have to address in the New Year)  Nevertheless if I were properly recognized as Her Royal Highness, a few things would be different around here at Christmas time:

 

1. 1.  “I have to finish my Christmas shopping.”  would be considered a legitimate excuse for a paid day off from work.
2. 2.  Christmas cookies would have no calories.
3. 3.  No cancer.  No cancer ever but cancer at Christmas is just WRONG.
4. 4.  World peace. 
5. A lack of simple common courtesy, such as “please”, “thank you” and “excuse me”, would be punishable by death….or at the very least dismemberment.   
6. Christmas traffic would part like the Red Sea to allow the Queen to pass. 
7. Santa would lend the use of all his elves so that the Queen’s shopping, cleaning, baking, packing, wrapping, shipping (Yes, thank you very much, I do know that it is now too late for much of this. Dear Sister, expect a New Years package.) would be done in time to enjoy HUGE amounts of Christmas cheer. 
8. Fireplaces in every home.  Fires make things so much more cozy.  (And so much easier for Santa.  )
9. Peppermint Mochas all around.
10. Last but certainly not least, The Queen DEMANDS that you all:

 

HAVE A VERY MERRY CHRISTMAS!

JUST WHEN I TRY TO FORGET….

                                                          …….PEOPLE KEEP REMINDING ME


My good friend, Janie, aka Midlife Slices, says that I’ve been mentioning my age a lot.  As previously stated, I’m having a bit of a hard time with this particular birthday.  Maybe it’s because I’ve always been the youngest of my friends for the most part.  In school, I hung out with older kids a lot.  I’m also the baby of the family.  My siblings were 12, 13 and 17 when I was born.  They were really more like extra parents than siblings until I was an adult.  I’m supposed to be the young one!  Combine these facts with a chronic case of PeterPanitis (I WON’T GROW UP!) and you have a 50 year old woman in denial.


So when Janie commented that I sure was mentioning my age a lot, I decided that I’m going to forget about it.  I’m going to carry on like I’m only 49.  You know, because I don’t look a day older than 49 according to my lucky she’s not dead coworker.

And then today, I get not one but two reminders that I am indeed 49+1:

1. My brother, Smitty, called and left me a message.  He wanted me to know that he just got his first social security check.   He could have left it at that.  He could have left me feeling all young and smug because I’m AGES away from collecting social security.  But NO, he couldn’t leave well enough alone.  He added, “And WOW!  You’re fifty now.  I remember when you were in diapers!” 
2. Then my cousin called to see if I had any more grey hair!  Stupid, stupid man!  I pay good money to make sure that NEVER happens!  PS.  Dear, stupid cousin is two years older than I am and has no room to poke fun. 

My WORDS OF WISDOM for they day:  Never tell a fifty year old woman how old she is.  She spends a good deal of her day finding ways to convince herself otherwise which may or may not involve multiple glasses of wine. 

Lie to me.  Tell me I’m young and beautiful.  Never mention my age.  Bring dark chocolate and good red wine and no one gets hurt. 

Sorry, I’m a little P(M)iSsy today.

Hugs and Kisses,

SMB

FIVE MORE SHOPPING DAYS

 

We’ve discussed the importance of spending quality time with our loved ones and not getting caught up in the hustle and bustle of the season.  Well forget that crap!  There’s only 5 more shopping days ‘til Christmas.  Now get out there and boost the economy!

If you need me, I’ll be at the mall.

 

Love and Kisses,

SMB

A TIMELY SHOPPING TIP

 

Here’s a great shopping tip for your Holiday Mega Savings.  And who doesn’t like to save?

Before all the hustle and bustle, the guzzling of peppermint mochas and trips to the ATM, it is WISE to sit for a minute and make a plan.  I’m the absolute WORST when it comes to making a plan.  Really.  I’m a total fly by the seat of your pants kind of girl.  So if I can do this, anyone can. 

1. Think about what stores you will shop today.
2. Google “*insert store name* coupon.”
3. Print the coupons.
4. And off you go. 
5. Don’t forget the peppermint mocha.

I printed two of the same coupon this morning before leaving home.  Not only was I able to double my savings by using the same coupon twice but I even called Daughter #2 to email me another one and used it again.  I simply showed the clerk the coupon on my phone and VOILA:  Another $30 savings.  By simply googling for a coupon before my shopping trip, I saved $90 more than I would have if I were couponless.  And couponless is no place to be. 

Have a merry Christmas and Happy shopping!

 

Love and Kisses,

SMB

DROP EVERYTHING

I  was cleaning the kitchen this morning when I received a text message from a good friend who lives about an hour South of me.  She said that she had a doctor appointment in my neck of the woods and asked if I wanted to meet for breakfast when she finished at approximately 9.  It was 8:30.  I was still in my jams, neither hair nor teeth were brushed and no make-up.  I had a long list of to-dos to get ready for Christmas.  My tree has been up for over a week and still isn’t decorated.  My house is in serious need of a visit from the cleaning fairy.  I have White Trash, Cinnamon Pecans and cookies to make.  I haven’t really begun to shop for gifts.  I have a pile of laundry to do after being away last weekend.  And I had this blog post to write.  (I did promise hope to write something every single day of this year.)
 
So of course I begged off stating that I had too much to do and promised to make sure that we get together soon, right?   NO WAY!  I quickly thanked her for the “heads up” (Where is my sarcasm font?) and said I’m on my way.


Fortunately, I showered before bed last night.  I pulled a pair of jeans out of the dirty clothes hamper (Don’t judge, people.  It’s not like I slopped hogs in them.) and put them in the dryer with a damp towel for 10 minutes.  While the jeans were de-wrinkling, I brushed my teeth, ran a curling iron over the ends of my hair and slapped on some make-up. I managed to find a clean sweater and the required Christmas necklace.   I retrieved my jeans, looking good as new by the way, put them on and was out the door. 

I enjoyed a wonderful breakfast with a dear friend that lasted 3 1/2 hours.  (We had a lot to catch up on.)  On my way home, I decided to get my pedicure out of the way.  My Harley Stud called in the middle of my pedicure and asked if I wanted to ride along to Vero Beach where he had to visit a customer.  I finally made it back home at 7pm.   And so the to-do list crashed and burned.


One of my favorite Bible stories (because balancing priorities seems to be a problem for me) is the one where Jesus comes to visit Lazarus’ two sisters, Mary and Martha.  While Martha is busy preparing food, cleaning up and making sure that her distinguished guest has the best of every THING they have to offer, Mary sits with Jesus and visits with him.  She listens to his stories and enjoys his company all while Martha is slaving away in the kitchen (none too happy that she isn’t getting help from her sister.)  The moral of the story, of course, is that it is much more important to fellowship and love one another.  Who cares if the house is clean!
 
This year I’m going to have a merry Mary Christmas.  And I hope that you do too. Whether you celebrate Christmas or not, the lesson should not be lost.  Shouldn’t we all be sure to make time to make time with our loved ones at Christmas and all throughout the year?
 
How crazy is your holiday?  Will you have  a Mary Christmas or a Martha Christmas? 

LIE TO ME…….DAMMICK!

Dear Young Chickie that Works under my Supervision and has no Idea that a Woman who just turned 50 is a little on edge and this one in particular owns a GUN:

Next time you decide to attempt to lavish me with compliments; dig a little deeper.  Use your imagination for pity sake. 


Respectfully,
Your loving and gracious office manager.

Now get the hell out of my office before I ………. I ………well, I oughtta …..


(Fifty + 4 days)

Allow me to paint the picture for you:


Yesterday before leaving the office, I got out my paint palate, a brush and some hairspray and headed for the ladies room.  I explained that I was meeting Daughter #1 at the mall and that you never know who you might run into at the mall.  “I don’t want anyone to think I’ve let myself go.”


Young Oblivious Coworker says, “It’s not like you’re Fif……..ty.”   She tried to stop in time but it was too late.  It was already out there. 


OH.YES.SHE.DID!


The left eyebrow was raised in her direction.  The sneer became impossible to conceal.  The hair was standing up at the back of my neck.  There was some gnashing of teeth.




1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10.   Deep breathes. Deep breathes.


I finally stopped hyperventilating and continued on to the ladies room.  That's when I heard:


"If it makes you feel any better, I still think you look 49."


NO!  IT DOESN'T!


There's a good reason I leave my gun at home locked in a safe.

THE PEE WORD

 

(Fifty+3 days)

There is a disturbing trend that has reared its ugly head in the last few decades or so.  I’m no parenting expert nor do I hold a psychology degree but with almost twenty six years of parenting experience, I do have something to say on the topic.  It is merely my opinion but I think we can all agree:  ……I’m right.

Some parents believe it’s acceptable and even wise to teach their little darlings to call private parts of the body by their real, anatomical names.  Big mistake. HUGE! 

There’s a very good reason why I disagree with this practice:  I never wanted to hear Daughter #1 or #2 tell a woman in the supermarket, “I have a v_______.  Do you have one too?”  And I can guarantee you, that phrase or something equally mortifying would have come out of their cute little mouths. 

Personally, at 50 years old, I’m still not comfortable using the “p” word referring to a man’s (what my mother taught us was a) “fella”.  So if I can’t say it myself, I sure don’t want to hear it out of the mouth of a four year old. 

So what did I use instead?  Not really the creative sort, I stuck with “pee pee” for both a girl’s and a boy’s …….well….. pee pee.  I couldn’t bring myself to use my mother’s “fella" because every time I heard someone say they were bringing their “fella” home to meet the parents, I got a completely different mental picture.  Sometimes I refer to it as the ever-popular “thing”.   And then of course there are the bottom and the boobies. 

So dear readers, if you have young children in your life, please restrain yourself from using the “proper” body part names.  There’s plenty of time for them to learn those words.  For now, let’s all be cute and fun and say words like “hoohah” and “fella”. 

Let’s all agree to agree with SMB.  Nothing good can come of doing otherwise.  Listen to me and the world will be a kinder, gentler place. 

 

Love and Kisses,

SMB

I’M TOO OLD FOR THIS CRAP

(F+2)

I worked 12 1/2 hours today so we’re going to keep this short and sweet.  Today’s life lesson is:
Never skip your dentist appointment, your mammogram or your pedicure.  Great teeth, healthy boobs and pretty feet should be priority in life.  Make it happen.

Love and Kisses,
SMB

MIRROR, MIRROR IN MY PURSE

F+1  Tip:  Always carry a mirror.  And use it.

I was thirteen when my grandfather died and my grandmother came to live with us.  After sharing several meals with my dear grandma, it became quite apparent that she had no feeling in her chin.  The woman always had food on her face.  As a young Smart Mouth Broad, I had plenty of comments on the subject.  All of said comments were kept to myself so as to keep my teeth intact. (She had a cane and knew how to use it.)  I would sit and wonder at how in the world she could have that big glop of gravy on her chin and not seem to notice.  Was there an age when it suddenly became acceptable to have mustard on your face?  A geriatric fashion statement, perhaps? 

A few decades later, my mother starting exhibiting signs of loss of sensation of her chin.  Always a stickler for proper etiquette, a napkin was always at the ready and eventually she would wipe her mouth and remove the goo from her face.  But still I marveled at how she didn’t seen to notice there was anything there.   After all, I could always feel when excess mayonnaise escaped from my sandwich onto my chin.  Sometimes I put it there just to be sure.

Recently my own children, who never hesitate to notify me of anything that could cause potential embarrassment….for them, have started gesturing to me to wipe my chin.  Fifty FLIPPIN’ years old and already I’ve lost all feeling in my chin!  I haven’t even gone through menopause yet! 

There appears to be an elephant in the room that no one wants to mention.  We hear all about loss of hearing, memory and eyesight.  We know that we lose the hair we want and grow it back in places we don’t.  You can’t turn on the television without hearing about arthritis pain, bone loss and high blood pressure.  But no one and I mean NO ONE is talking about chin sensory loss. 

To my knowledge, there is no pill, no lotion, no potion, no 12 step program to avoid, repair or cure Mayonnaise on the Chin Syndrome.  Therefore my words of wisdom today are:  Carry a mirror.  Never leave home without it. 

 

Love and Kisses,

SMB

HAPPY “@#$%&*” BIRTHDAY

The big day has finally arrived and as you read this, I’m probably still in bed with the covers pulled over my head, curled into a fetal position saying, “I don’t want to grow up!  I don’t want to grow up!”  But grow up, I must, or so they tell me. 

For the sake of humanity and the smell of Peppermint Mocha, I will crawl out of bed.  I will put on my big girl panties and suck it up.  I will soldier on armed with fuzzy socks and a very large glass of wine.  And I will do this for you.  Yes, YOU! 

It occurred to me over the past few weeks while searching for meaning and purpose in my life that the title of this blog promises “words of  wisdom” and it’s high time I start delivering the merchandise.  And so a plan started to develop:

As the self-appointed QUEEN OF EVERYTHING, I am quite certain that I do……know it ALL!  And what I don’t know, I am more than happy to make up.  It is in this spirit that I wish for you to benefit from my wisdom, my experience and my general knowitalliness.  I hereby  swear   promise   plan   hope to post a tidbit of wisdom here every day of my 50th year. (And before someone smarty points it out, I already know that it is technically my 51st year.  GEESH, you are pushing my buttons!”)  It is my hope that you will come to rely on these pages as your go-to source for life rules.  It will be a sacrifice, sure.  My family will once again grow accustomed to being ignored while I compose little pearls of wisdom for the “masses”.  Not to worry.  I live only to serve. 

What?  You don’t think you can take life advice from a woman who whispers to goats and will believe in Santa Claus until the day she dies?  SHUT UP!  I CANNOT handle turning fifty and rejection too! You just keep those thoughts to yourself and I will continue to live in the dream.  Listen!  I need purpose here, people!  This is the deal:  I post the gems that are truly words to live by and you continue to pretend to follow my advice and nobody gets hurt.  OK?


Stay tuned for the first life lesson tomorrow.  What?  You thought I was going to give you a tip today?  Forget that.  It’s my birthday.  I’m taking the day off. 

Love and Kisses,
SMB

Technical Difficulties

I can't seem to get my banner photograph to stretch across the entire page.   I've done this a thousand times but those same steps aren't working today,  Any suggestions?

FIFTY AND FABULOUS…..

…….OR BITE ME – (You choose.)

I’m about to “celebrate” a big birthday.  Yeah….THAT one.  And so far, I’m not dealing with the idea very well.  I’ve never been one to be bothered by the passing of another age milestone: 

Thirty?  I was THRIVING.  Didn’t phase me.

Forty?  Lordy, this is fun.  Bring it on.

But FIFTY?  In the last few months, the decline in my physical, mental and emotional well-being is snow-balling at a break-my flippin’-neck pace.  The eye-sight is going fast.  Everything hurts.  And I hear they are planning to give my arse its own zip code soon.

I guess part of the problem is that as Martina McBride would say, “Every morning when I drink my coffee, I can’t believe my life has turned out this way.”  That’s not to say that I’m not blessed.  Certainly I am.  And by contrast, when I compare my life to some, I admit that I feel a little ashamed of myself for whining.  But whining and/or wining makes me feel better, Dammick! 

As the self-appointed Queen of Everything, one might think that I would be above such triviality.  It’s really just a number after all.  But it’s  a really BIG number.   Waaaaaaaa.

I’ve never been one to make a plan.  In fact, bad things happen when I make plans, so I just don’t make them. I choose to live my life by the seat of my pants.  I play it by ear.  I go with the flow.  Whichever way the wind blows me.  I really hope you get the idea here because I seem to be out of clichés.  (And I never thought that could happen.)

I’m afraid that my lack of planning has left me feeling that I have lived without purpose.  Could it be that I was meant to do more than spread good cheer and nonsense wherever I go?  Is this it?  I mean after half a century, I should be able to look back and say, “WOW!  Look at all I’ve accomplished!”   Is it too late to take stock?  Perhaps a nice midlife crisis would do the trick but I don’t have time for that!   

I have to do something……even if it’s wrong.  Surely there is something I can do that will put me on the path to self fulfillment and enlightenment.  I’ve listed some possibilities:

• I could run away and join the circus.  I’m pretty sure I would make a really great trapeze artist.  (Do those costumes come in extra large?)
• I could join the Peace Corps.  (Except I heard they send you to countries that have no cheese!)
• I’ve given serious consideration to becoming an alcoholic but I keep forgetting to keep drinking after one glass of wine. 
• I could move to the beach and sell velvet Elvis paintings by the shore.  (a life-long dream of mine)
• CIA?  Covert Operative?  I AM an excellent markswoman.   I could do great things with a sniper rifle and work out my midlife frustrations at the same time.  Nah, I can never keep a secret.  *sigh* 

Will SMB survive the BIG ONE?  Stay tuned. 

THE MORE THINGS CHANGE……

I’ve been absent from these pages for far too long.  The simple truth is that I didn’t feel that I had anything of any interest to say.  That’s about to change.  If there is anyone still out there, stay tuned.  If I don’t get hit by a bus between now and two weeks  ten days  awhile from now, you’re going to be seeing a lot more of me. 

I miss you.  And besides that, I just got a new laptop and feel the need to get my money's worth.  *wink*