Sign Me Up for SPAM! NOT!

Image by brizzle born and bred via FlickrI am an admitted "sign me up now" junkie.

It's sad really. I can't help it.

Evidently there is some sort of camera on my computer that allows internet businesses to hone in on the "SUCKER" stamped across my forehead. I'm minding my own business, browsing through the internet, (usually late at night when I'm drowsy and my common sense is snoozing) when I see some ad that promises youth, wealth, beauty, brilliance, creativity-- "and all for FREE". Wow! All that for FREE??? Sign me up!

And in goes my email address. And I'm signed up. For life.

Despite the fact that all these great offers promise you they "won't share your private information" and that "you can unsubscribe at any time," I have the sneaky feeling that they might be LYING!

Not only do I get solicited via email for stuff I would NEVER, EVER sign up for, when I try to unsubscribe, I usually end up jumping through a series of hoops which never get to that magical "Thank you. You are now unsubscribed." In fact, I'm pretty sure that when I try to unsubscribe, it is actually just subscribing me to additional lists.

The worst part? It's my own fault!

But really- Who doesn't want to lose 35 pounds in 14 days by following one simple tip? Who doesn't want to get free designer hand bags and shoes you get to test and keep, and only have to fill out a short survey to help the manufacturer? Who wouldn't want to clip coupons so valuable that the supermarket will have to pay you to take the groceries? Of course I want a free iPad, iMac, iPhone and iPod for simply completing offers from two sponsors.

I am a glutton for punishment and an advertiser's dream come true.

The result of all these impulse mouse clicks is an email inbox stuffed to over-flowing every time I turn on my computer.

I almost need a little shock system installed in my computer keyboard that zaps me when I initiate a certain series of key strokes that are required for almost every smoozy deal out there.

What is your name?

Key Stroke: K-R-I  **ZAP**

See? Sign up aborted; Junk email avoided.

*sigh*

If it were only that easy....

For now, I guess I'll continue to get email offers: for diapers, although my youngest child is 9; for AARP membership, even though I'm not even 45 yet; and for everything in between...

You know, maybe there's a course or a self-help book that would help curb my impulse clicking. I think I'll see if I can sign up for a blog or free offer...

Related articles

• How To Stop Spam Emails If Your Address Got Stolen This Weekend (businessinsider.com)
• Get off the Mailing Lists with Unsubscribe (devicemag.com)
• Spam, and the death of the Unsubscribe button (dudegalea.com)

Beauty & the Beast

I tell stories about my children so often, because they are such good subjects for material! But this post is dedicated to one of my greatest goof-ups of all time. (Just so you can feel a little good about yourself today.)

I have dark hair and dark eyes, which I got from my mom. I feel very blessed to have gotten her beauty- both inside and out.

CAUTION: MommyBarbie Waxing!

However, as the saying goes, "No good deed goes unpunished." Dark hair on my head also means dark hair on my legs. (ew) Not the best look for bathing suit season.

For years I have shaved. And shaved. And shaved. Only to have to shave again, lest we have a "five o'clock shadow" on the beach or at the pool.

This year, I decided, would be different: I would somehow resolve my "beastly" problem in a way that involved me being in the shower less and on the beach more! My conclusion? WAX!

I checked out the local prices for waxing. Yikes! To actually achieve a smooth, hair-free body from head-to-toe we were talking major bucks! Suddenly, I was having to choose between a hair-free vacation at home, or a somewhat less hairy vacation. Of course, I'm a sucker for that golden sand, so I determined I would just wear a wet suit and be done with it.

But then- wait! Sally's Beauty Supply sells all of the "stuff" needed to wax like a professional- in my own home! Eureka! And the cost of all the supplies was about 1/3 of what it would cost to go in for that head-to-toe intensive follicle rip. I'm in!!!

Fast forward to Friday night. (Yes, my life has come to waxing on a Friday night. *sigh*)

I prepared the wax in the special warmer, read the instructions, decided to be "dangerous" and NOT watch the enclosed video (how hard could this be?), and went for it!

My legs were not too bad. One big rip like a band-aid and my hair was gone! This rocks!

Then I got to the back of my knees & upper legs. Oh how I wish I had been a fly on the wall to watch the gymnastics and contortions of trying to reach the backs of my knees & upper legs. They are not easy to reach even when I shave without some interesting positions. But add in the extra "wow" factor of hot wax and waxing strips, and we had ourselves a show! (Thank goodness no one was watching!) Finally, I believed I had at least scared most of the hair into deciding not to grow any further, even if I hadn't gotten it off. So it was time to move on to...

The bikini area!  Okay- let me just say: OUCH! This is one area I can totally say would be worth any amount of money not to have to self-inflict. But once I was half-way in, I could not bring myself to stop and go to a "professional," to whom I would have to explain myself. I could only imagine the conversation: "So, I got this waxing kit..." No... I couldn't imagine the conversation. So I had to move (proverbially) onward and upward.

After the stars in my eyes began to clear and I stopped weeping openly (My gracious, the things we do in the name of beauty!) I figured it may not look great, but it was decidedly better than before. So on to the arm pits...

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

First of all, the wax is HOT! And somehow every nerve ending in my body was concentrated in my left arm pit. Talk about "no pain, no gain." Geesh!

Then, just as I was reaching for the strip to put over the wax, so that I could then rip away the hair...

...my middle daughter came in the bathroom totally distraught, having gotten ill with the stomach virus.

Without thinking, I turned to her to check on her...

and put my arm down...

with the hot wax...

and no strip.

By the time I realized it, it was too late.

My left arm pit was waxed shut.

So then, I was dealing with my daughter and getting her cleaned up with the equivalent of a broken left wing. But with the extra excitement of having movement cause intense, blinding pain.

Finally having gotten her settled, I returned back to my poor, sad left arm pit. "At least," I reasoned, "the hair will be gone once I get my arm pit un-stuck."

Um, no.

After prying it open enough to put in warm water & the special spa stuff that takes off the extra wax (Thank you, God, for making me buy that on impulse!), I realized that not a single hair was pulled out.

I spent a good twenty minutes trying to get the gooey, sticky wax out of my arm pit.

Then I jumped in the shower and went back to the trusty razor for both Arm Pit One, and Arm Pit Two.

On the whole, I would say my waxing experience was a success. And I will probably stick to some waxing- particularly from my knees down.

However, it will be quite some time (and perhaps a hefty dose of some sedatives) before I venture into the arm pit waxing business again.

But, on the plus side, I am beach-ready... Well, at least I'm (body) hair-free...

Now I just need to lose some weight, find "the" bathing suit and wait for June to get here!

Related articles

• The Basics of Hair Removal (everydayhealth.com)
• Gigi Honee Wax (hairremoval.org)
• Home Waxing Tips (makeuptipz.wordpress.com)
• Supermodel's Don't Shave Their Legs (hudabeauty.com)

Is Lent That Stuff You Find in Your BellyButton?

Image via WikipediaNo.

That's Lint.

I'm talking about Lent.

It is a tradition in my church that to help learn discipline, we "give up" something for Lent each year. There is something comforting in sharing each others' misery as we bemoan whatever we're missing.

My father gives up sweets every single year. In the past, I've given up sweets; I've traded my time for bible study; I've given up going out to eat, and various other things.

This year my family has decided to give up television as a family. I expected a lot of resistance and much weeping and gnashing of teeth. However, they have been particularly good about it. (Especially since Sundays are not included in Lent, so we can watch television those days as a family.)

Prior to their Spring Break, we took a trip to Wal-Mart and bought out all their board games and craft supplies. We came home and compiled a list of alllll the things they could do that did not require television.

As a result, my kids are talking to each other more than fighting with each other (which I assure you is no small feat). They have enjoyed numerous board games and craft projects, and rarely even mention television at all.

Obviously, I am very proud of their faithfulness and discipline. I wish I had half of what they have.

I have given up more than just television. I decided I needed to get healthier so that I could be a better steward of my time, money and body. So to help jump start this process, I also gave up soda, FaceBook and fried foods. And I have chosen not to take the "day off" on Sundays, but rather plow on ahead (being the black & white kind of girl I am).

I have managed to not break down into tears in public as my kids order their McDonald's french fries and coke. And I have pulled myself away physically from the computer to keep from checking FaceBook. And every time, I think to myself, "Whose stupid idea was this, anyway?"... "Oh yeah, mine..."

When Easter comes, I will go back to my beloved FaceBook. However, I am choosing to permanently delete soda and fried foods from my diet (with the rare occasion of a treat).

My kids will get to watch television again. I hope that we can keep the drooling-zombie-inducing practice to a minimum. Perhaps a schedule that outlines the few times during the week we will watch it. Or maybe just watching it one day a week.

Either way, this experience is proving to be much more of a blessing than a chore. And we are all more appreciative of the things we once took for granted on a daily basis.

I guess that's the real reason for Lent.

Related articles

• Season of Lent (randomcarole.wordpress.com)
• Tim Suttle: Why Evangelicals Need Lent (huffingtonpost.com)
• To Lent or not to Lent? (laurenlizallen.wordpress.com)
• Lent: Giving Up Coffee or My Life - A reflection by Eugene Cho (godspace.wordpress.com)
• Lent for everyone? (1minionsopinion.wordpress.com)
• Lent: A Time of Renewal (michaelelynch.wordpress.com)
• 40 Days of Lent (friendedbychrist.com)
• ReLENTless Acts of Justice: An Introduction (rocksinajar.wordpress.com)
• What is Lent Anyway, Besides Strange? (logicandimagination.wordpress.com)
• Local Christians feast in days before Lent's fasting (dispatch.com)
• My Lent Prayer (bryanmarvel.com)
• Lenten Disciplines (christiandifferent.wordpress.com)
• Lent for Dummies (chicagonow.com)

Slumber Party is an Oxymoron

Image via WikipediaSo, what began as a "lazy, relaxing evening," quickly turned into a sociology experiment run amok. I planned on me and my kids having a do-it-yourself dinner, then playing board games for the evening.
Ha! And I say "Ha!" again!
Dear son invited three (3) other 14 year old boys over. Dear older daughter invited one friend over. And dear younger daughter invited one friend over. I should also mention that we are watching my brother's dog, too. So there was a total of: four boys, four girls, two dogs, a cat and me.
I'll give you three guesses as to what dinner was like. The boys plowed through the pizzas like it was their job. I've never actually seen two slices of pizza eaten in three bites- until tonight.
The girls giggled and carried on, while primly sitting at the table and eating their miniature pizza slices with a pinky in the air. However, they found the candy bars- and hid them from the boys, even feigning ignorance when questioned by said boys.
Then there were cell phones. Wow. I was in invisible parental heaven. While I sat quietly in my room, I eves-dropped on the boys calling girls from their class and asking them, "So, if you HAD to like one of us, which of us would it be?" And I listened to the girls giggling madly as they texted back and forth with a particularly "cute" boy from their class.
If I ever asked them point-blank about these things, I would likely get no more response than a hair toss and a shoulder shrug. But in their ego-centric world, where they can't believe that anything happens unless they witness it, I was a fly on the wall, soaking in every word.
I was pleasantly surprised at how appreciative and polite all of the kids were. Typically, kids have a bad reputation of being snarky, disrespectful and generally feeling like the world should cater to their every whim. However, these kids thanked me for the pizza, in between snarfing it down in large gulps. They made sure the dogs didn't eat extra food lying around. And, they were respectful of my (very generous) curfew times.
Yes, it was very loud. Yes, I felt considerably old and quite out-numbered. But, over all it was a very nice experience. And my kids had a blast.
And the best part? I'll bet we can all go to bed early tomorrow night. :)

Related articles

• Tips for surviving a slumber party (parentcentral.ca)
• Ensuring domestic tranquillity during sleepovers (seattletimes.nwsource.com)
• Junk Food Makes Kids Stupid (friendseat.com)

Ooma

Image via WikipediaRecently I had the privilege of helping my grandmother, whom we call Ooma, as she had an extended stay in a residential facility while my parents were out of town. She usually lives with my parents in her own little apartment off of their house. However, while mom and dad were out of town, she decided she might like to try staying in a place where she could talk to other folks her age.

Every day she was there, she appeared to have as many, if not more, visitors than the Pope. There was a constant stream of family and friends visiting with her. And she, being the ultra-extravert that she is, delighted in every moment of her visits.

In the evenings I had the unique blessing of going to help her as she prepared for bed. At 95, she is exceptionally spry mentally. However, her osteoarthritis has given her lots of physical ailments that make her occasionally need some assistance. And even though the facility staffed people to help her, I was honored to be asked to go in to provide a familiar touch.

It is beyond amazing to imagine what she has seen and been through in the last 95 years. She has been through The Great Depression, World Wars, and too many presidents to count. And she remembers it all.

I think that is one of the things I marvel at the most. I can barely remember where I parked my car when I come out of the grocery store. She can remember making root beer with her five brothers and sisters when they were young, how she and my grandfather courted, the way my father was as a boy, and my childhood and adult years.

She is so very gracious about any little thing you do for her. I would sometimes put her toothpaste back in its holder for her since it was a bit hard for her to reach. She would thank me profusely, as though I had invented toothpaste and named it after her.

My whole family got to take part in our visits. And my brother's family did, too. We even got an "adopted" member of the family in on the fun!

She is now back home with mom and dad. I know she is much more comfortable, since there is no place quite like home. But part of me will miss spending those hours with her in the evenings, as the moon was high in the sky, listening to her tell me about her day. And then, on occasion, she would delve back into time and tell me the stories of her youth. And stories about my father as he was a boy.

I know I will see her frequently at her home with mom and dad. However, I will forever cherish that time I had with her. We talked about the way the world is, and how it was. She told me about growing up and growing old. She voiced sadness over bad times. But we also laughed- a lot. 

She is a very, very special lady. And I am so honored to call her my Ooma. And I feel blessed to have my children know her, too.

I love you, Ooma.

Love,
K
xoxoxo

Related articles

• Decisions & Sacrifices That We Make... (caregiving.com)
• How I Hired a Caregiver (caregiving.com)
• Defining Caregiving (caregiving.com)