Why don't they just GOOGLE it?

          “Are birds who eat eggs considered cannibals”? How the fuck am I supposed to know! Why and how do children’s minds operate? I get ask a billion silly questions every day and since they are constantly asking, I assume that I am supposed to know the answer.

          Whoever has the How to properly raise a child manual, I would ask that you please return it to the library so that some of us can peruse it for a few quick answers. I begin this blog with a certain degree of sarcasm (a HUGE amount) as apparently everyone else has the book and utilizes it quite often. I have made lots of mistakes in my parenting career and I feel as if I am alone. Maybe it’s because I never got the book.

          I never got a manual 18 years ago when I was pregnant. I don’t know if it was because I was a teenage mom having an illegitimate child or if perhaps the Health Department was out of them. I say Health Department because that is where every girl of my status would go. My status would read: teenage, pregnant, in school, no relationship with the father, and below poverty level. I was really a catch!

 I see people who have such stringent, black and white ways of dealing with their children and I often wonder if I’m doing the right thing by them. Perhaps I should be more inflexible with my decision and rule making. I just don’t see the point in potentially starting conflict when it’s not that big of a deal. I don’t know all of the answers, I don’t know why they keep asking me shit. We have internet, GOOGLE IT!

          I’m the kind of parent who let them watch TV, play video games (including ones not rated for children!), drink cokes, and I have even let them all curse at some point in their lives. Everyone has at some time lashed out with their words and I’m no one to punish my children for doing so. My only rules are: You must use it in the appropriate context (I don’t want any dumbass remarks, they have had plenty of examples from me), and it must be a slip up and no pre-planned profanity is allowed.

 I am doing the best I can and until I get access to that fucking manual, I will continue my style of raising kids. I have worked in healthcare so long that I have begun to integrate some of my nursing skills into my parenting skills. I have had some success, as I almost have one to age 18! For those of you who are interested….

          Here are some of my cross trained/modified rules:

1.     Sometimes there isn’t a reason why, but we still have to fix/do it.

2.     You can’t come in drunk.

3.     Your bowel movements and/or habits ARE my business.

4.     I hear everything but only react when I feel necessary.

5.     You can’t go out and smoke.

6.     Bathe daily.

7.     When I say “I’ll check on it”, that means I will. It may not be right now but I will do it. Don’t ask me again.

8.     Be nice. You can be direct and to the point but always be nice.

9.     Don’t go into other peoples rooms.

10.                        You can’t sleep all day.

11.                         It’s not time yet for your ___________.

12.                        There ARE set visiting hours…..

13.                        It’s probably not as bad as you think.

14.                        You will not getting your linen changed daily.

15.                        It’s hard for me to believe you are too sick to go to _____ when you are crushing candy right in front of me.

16.                        I’m not your maid, or your waitress.

17.                        Pain is part of life.

18.                        Close the door if you aren’t fully dressed.

19.                        I didn’t ask you if you wanted to, I told you we HAD to.

20.                        I care about every aspect of you and your life. If I didn’t, there would be no rules. Please help me to help you prepare for life after discharge from this facility.

I’m like every other parent in the world, except my rules may be different. We all want our children to succeed and form responsible, capable adults. All families operate differently, and I hope that my form of parenting is preparing my children for the world and preparing me for their eventual departure. I love being a mom, I just never realized how hard it is.

Right now my family is facing a very hard time in regards to one of my children. I am doing what he has ask me to do. Whatever the outcome, I still see and feel the pain that my child goes through. I would happily fix it if I could, but nonetheless I cannot. The only thing I can do is continue to love my children unconditionally, try to make the best decisions for my family, and try to stay out of jail.

My blogs are my way of releasing my feelings whether they are positive, negative, funny, or sad. I intend by no means anyone to become angry or feel as if anything that I write is pointed or directed at any specific person(s).

farrahjoe.blogspot.com is my place. Please don’t read it if you don’t want to know how I feel or if you could potentially be offended. If my opinion isn’t valid to you, stay off my page. It really is that simple. For all of the readers who continue to read and give feedback, food for thought, and encouragement, I thank you. You have given me more than I could ever ask for. I get to express my opinion and make myself giggle. I’m so glad we are friends…..return the fucking child raising manual please!!

I'm too sexy.....

          

Another weekend down and everyone is still alive. I calculated per the school calendar that my children have received 2 days of education in the last 36….really? I hope they get a curve on their grades if you know what I mean. Jeremy and I have turned the other direction on the snow days shit. I hope it continues to snow and they have to go to school all summer.

          Cooper has decided that we need another child. He told me he wants a baby brother. I ask him and he said that moms and dads who are awesome get babies. Well, that’s kind of true….wink, wink. Although I’d like to think that I’ve been awesome MORE than 4 times in my adult life.

 Good luck with that Cooper, if I end up pregnant one of two things will happen. Either Dr. Moore will receive a visit or I will have some explaining to do, either way it won’t be a “happy” time for the Neville’s. Social services would be here before we even arrived home from the hospital as we have too many people in a small space. I would need them to install cameras just for the safety of the children. You know how sometimes when you get too many animals in a cage and they begin to eat each other? I’ve got some hungry looking folks here.

          I’m sorry about the negativity of my last post. Sometimes I can’t smile through the anger. Sometimes I just want to kick someone’s windshield out of their car or ride them to the ground like sea biscuit. I can’t and sometimes I just get mad. I thought that this post should have some humor to offset the last:

1.     I can poop in public (not in like the aisle or anything, just in a public restroom), it doesn’t bother me.

2.    I think I’m an awesome dancer, especially when I’m drinking.

3.    I have a full length fur coat, and I’ve worn it.

4.   I hate when people eat one thing at a time. What is the difference?

5.    I was born without a waist…it’s a disability

6.   Bitches who squat and piss all over the toilet are going to Hell.

7.   I am secretly jealous of crafty Pinterest people

8.    Deep down, I miss the perm…

9.    I wish I had a bubble butt.

10.                       And finally, I sleep with 5 pillows. I’m propped up like a nursing home patient and I like it…

I’m back on track and feeling good. Work, school, kids, whatever, bring it on because I’m ready. I can poop in public, I’m an awesome dancer, and deep down I know how sexy I really am.

How great thou art...

The emotional turmoil that is on the surface is too raw to talk about. Eventually I will explain all of the odd conversations and statuses. I am ready to be tried and found innocent, and I expect my apologies to be heard loud and clear from my accusers.

Not just the ones directly related, but the ones who have long thought and whispered behind my back. The ones that are no better than me. I may be crude and less eloquent, but right is right. I cannot wait for my name to be synonymous with the truth.

GO ahead, and think what you will, I want you to second guess and weigh your options and see how far you want to push. What if you are wrong? How will YOU look? How will YOUR FAMILIY AND FRIENDS perceive you? In short, what if the table were turned and it just so happens you are the one who judged? The very one propped up on the pew at church, keeping up appearances but not living the word.

Consider exactly how that will feel when your world comes crashing down. You may not be as special as you think you are, and perhaps you will be subject to the same judgments you have so easily lain at my feet.

Go ahead, I’m ready. 

My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard, and damn right its better than yours.....

Oh my goodness, what a week. I have had one of those stressful weeks. You know, the kind that air on EVERY soap opera still airing…I’ve had a blast from the past come back into the show, a stressful week at work, Wyatt’s 11^th birthday, and school has been out for snow.

 That last little element has caused me to have to remove all of the pills, belts, and shoe laces from the house as Jeremy is officially on suicide precautions. I have made him contract for safety but this time it’s for real. All of this shit has to happen to me in the middle of an actual diet attempt…WTF?

I took Wyatt to Cookeville today to celebrate his birthday and we started out at IHOP. I was good and only at ½ of an omelet. I was so jealous of all the others around me who were eating “all you can eat pancakes” and just for a second, I wished them all a sudden bout of explosive diarrhea. That is an honest statement, do not judge me.

I took him with me to the doctor where I received a steroid shot in my shoulder. When did I get so old? I guess I should ask “Tim” as he apparently noticed. I don’t remember passing that sign, I’m just worried about what comes next. You know, constantly worrying about my bowels and trying to run everyone’s life? Isn’t that what a great majority of middle aged women do?

Our birthday shopping led us to a good haul at Kohl’s. I had a 30% off coupon and we loaded up. Even the cashier double checked his numbers and complimented me on my savings. I’m really good at crap like that. Too bad no one needs a personal shopper. I would definitely be your girl for that. After Kohl’s, we went to Old Navy and then to TJ Maxx where I was found the most peculiar candle.

The candle was scented tobacco and oak and the very thought of it turned my stomach. For some reason I opened the lid and was stunned at the calming aroma that emanated from that jar. I have no idea why that scent was so soothing, so familiar, but it was in my shopping cart before I left the aisle.  

I was unable to procure Wyatt any jeans anywhere. I guess I will have to go online, again. Wyatt is endowed in the rear end area. Baby got BACK, for real. He has an ass that make strippers jealous, randomly people throw dollar bills at him. He knows about making it rain. It did not come from me. I have the dominant no-ass-at-all gene and my other children have it as well. Wyatt is the only one who doesn’t need a belt to hold up his pants. I will have to go online and get the birthday boy some apple bottoms or something like that.

Hobby lobby was full of crafty folk and Wyatt spent plenty of time perusing their model plane and model car selection while I panted to keep cool and tried not to lay down in the floor. I’m not the woman I used to be, one day of shopping and I need to rest. I was so tired, it was almost as if I had taken cold medication or something. The steroid shot was certainly not systemic.

He finally made his selections and I picked out a pattern to make Charleigh Joe some outfits. I’m sure that they will not look like the picture but at least I tried, right? When we got home my first order of business was to take a nap and when I awoke it was time to get busy again.

I did the normal house things like the dishwasher and wipe the counters off. I sent the dogs out to potty in the snow and the little bitches were gone for 20 minutes! I was overwrought with worry. I just knew I was going to Hell for freezing those puppies to death. I went outside and called for them and looked everywhere. I followed tracks in the snow and finally had to come back in as Cooper was here by himself….Not a good thing at all.

When the dogs showed back up on the porch, I was so happy and so upset that they had caused me to worry like I had been, apparently they didn’t realize I was on a diet either. But, on a lighter note the doctor’s office scales weighed me 13 lbs lighter than I was the last time I was there. I have successfully expelled a few pounds, I just hope I can keep this up with all the drama in my life right now.

We have a huge day scheduled at work tomorrow…at least that is what my pager indicates. I’m going to go to bed extra early so I can get up extra early, around 3am. Jeremy who is also a part time weather man informed me that it would be 18-19 degrees in the morning when I left for work. I don’t know why he felt he needed to tell me that, I didn’t expect it to be 60 or anything. I shouldn’t bitch as I love the man, and his weather reports.

With this last paragraph, I say adieu. I am going to bed and hopefully to sleep quickly so I can be rested and ready for a big day tomorrow at work. I will put on some extra wrinkle cream just in case “Tim” is there. I ask him to bring me some hard candy and I vow to write him a 7 dollar check for his birthday. Obviously I am still upset over the age thing. 

How to successfully remove vaseline from hair...please tell me.

For the second time in 6 months, my daughter has caused me pain and distress over her hair. I say that only twice she has worried me but of all my children, she has the worst hair. I have boys with the most gorgeous thick locks that could ever be wished for, that kind that effortlessly fall perfectly into place…and then there is her hair.

          After 5 washings with Dawn dishwashing liquid, she still looks like she lives in a bus. I have no other ideas and washing it again would be the equivalent of washing ducks in the gulf after the spill. She will just have to wear it off. Her poor hair. She has such a challenge to overcome.

          I don’t know why she got the short end of the stick. Only recently have strangers been referring to her as a girl. For 2 years I endured the “look at the cute little man” shit. Now, that was despite the fact that she has pierced ears, was wearing a dress, and squeaky gold shoes. They still believed she was a boy because she had really short, fine hair. These are the times in my life that I have held back. I did not attack these half-wits. They have obviously been punished enough.

 I do find it funny how hair tends to label us all through life. As infants and toddlers, girls have long hair and boys have short. As we grow older, when a woman has short hair, she is obviously a lesbian. I don’t know how that got started but if she has short hair and drives a truck, it has to be true. You don’t know how many free coffees that little piece of knowledge has gotten me. I have more than once been approached by a lesbian. Unfortunately, I am a heterosexual woman with short hair. Myth busted.

          When a man has long hair, it is he is obviously a left wing democrat who believes the government should be questioned constantly. I don’t put much stock in stereotypes…they have often left me juggling for words to fix my presumptuous mistakes. Examples such as talking to a family member that you presume is the daughter and slip up and it’s his wife…that’s hard to back track.

          Oh well, if getting the Vaseline out of Charleigh Joe’s hair is all the excitement I have this weekend then I’m going to be ok. Since this is the second time in 6 months, I guess we will not replace the huge tub of Vaseline. Our lives will not be changed that much by that decision. In the end, we will potentially come out ahead of the game.

          

In case you don't know what a Pannus is.

          

On the eve of an actual scheduled school day, the light begins to shine in my dear husbands eyes. I can see the life slowly returning to him as each hour ticks by. Soon it will be bedtime, and when the sun comes up I have no doubt he will be the first parent in line to drop off our children. He can spend all day doing exactly what he wants to.

          This past Friday, we were all chatting about how close in age that we all are on our team. I keep my age quiet. I do not discuss it. I am one of those people who do not want to compare. One of my friends, we will call him “Tim” randomly guessed my age at 5 years older than what I really am….and then went on to say that I looked my age. Everyone knows when guessing a woman’s age, you guess under what you really think by at least 7-10 years. The fact that he thinks I look 5 years older than what I am makes the situation worse.

          So now I am old...I’ll add that to the list of crap that I have to feel bad about. I immediately let him know that if any cases came up he would need to let me know ahead of time as I was not supposed to drive after dark. My son would have to bring me. I know now that he ask my mother my true age when he saw her. I’m sure he feels bad. I am devastated.

          Now with my aged face, I return to work tomorrow…I hope that “Tim” and I can resolve this issue or I can at least forgive him for the hurt he has caused me. I’m gonna need to have my ass kissed just for a while over this one.  I really think what he did would be the equivalent of me guessing he was impotent. That was very ugly of me, I’m sorry.  Just saying that it REALLY hurt my feelings. I don’t have anything against aging, I just want to stay on schedule and not ahead of schedule.

          Ike and Tina have been involved in a 2 day long domestic dispute. I feel as if it is has something to do with the mating box as it appears he keeps trying to force her into it. If I spoke bird I think he would be saying, “Just the tip, just for a second, just to see how it feels”. She has whipped his ass more time than I care to count.  He doesn’t seem to be getting the message. He’s not a quitter, I can tell that for sure.

          In light of my advanced aging, I am considering a diet….I am at the biggest weight I have ever been except while I was gestating. I am miserable. I just realized that I have a free gym membership at the University that I attend. I did not realize that all full-time students have a free membership. I don’t think just having the membership will help one to lose weight. I remember 100lbs ago thinking how fat I was. Little did I know, I was a hottie!

          So now the journey will begin. First in my head until I get the nerve to actually go to the gym. I hate new shit that isn’t fun. It puts me at a disadvantage, both physically and psychologically to go to the gym. I feel as if I am on display, I am the newest exhibit. Just being the new kid is hard. Now I’m the fat new kid.

 I have successfully lost a large amount of weight before. I did it through diet and exercise. I actually was pretty fit for my size. I clocked a 9 minute mile once or twice. I would love to just be fit again. I just hate the perceived stares and getting the nerve to start. I am engulfed in routines, this would be just another addition.

          When a fat person goes to the gym, the indecision starts at home. What to wear…. Do you wear shorts and potentially be embarrassed at your legs (mine are horribly scarred and blindingly white) or do you wear pants and sweat even more? We have all seen that fat person at the gym who is wearing pants and from the back it appears as if their ass is eating their pants? No one wants to be that guy. What kind of shirt? One that is big enough to not be clingy and long enough to cover your pannus, but not too long as to appear to be a gown. These are things that thin people do not even consider.

          Then comes the actual workout part. As deconditioned as I am, I may as well start out with the senior citizens (as “Tim” guesses me about their age) except that they are probably more fit than I am. I hope that I can at least keep up appearances while they are looking at me. I actually enjoy working out, but dread the stares and awkwardness of it all. It just takes some getting used to.

          Diet is another problem that I battle. I am a HUGE Mountain Dew fan. I drink a fair amount of product, and that alone contributes to my size. I hate when you modify your diet, and someone points it out. I don’t need for anyone to be counting the calories on my plate and verbalizing the change. I HATE THAT!  I know exactly what will happen, I will go into work tomorrow and get something different than I normally eat and someone will remark about it. I don’t need a fucking nutrition lesson, I know what I should and should not do. Being fat, I should obviously avoid my previous diet.

          The moral of the story is when dealing with people, never guess a woman’s age unless you give her at least 7-10 years under. You should avoid eye contact with any fat person in the gym as they stressed to the max. We are embarrassed enough just showing up and hoping our shirt is long enough, and finally don’t remark about what is on someone’s plate. These tips will help everyone to live a much longer and happier life. It is hard enough in this world to exist, let alone do it with the guilt of over-guessing a friends age….”Tim”, you really hurt my feelings.

Snow days: Cruel and unusual punishment...

          Day 21:

          The idea that if they ran out of ready to eat food that perhaps they might leave, failed. We are out of ideas to force them to leave. I don’t know how much longer we can take this. Our home was not meant for all 6 inhabitants to coexist for stretches of time such as we are currently experiencing. Jeremy thinks we should just leave and let them have it to themselves. He says that it will be just like a mattress fire, no one will know what happened.

 As it stands now, bearing good weather our next possible window to remove the children from our home is Monday. That will have been 24 days….the cold hard facts are more than a bit hard to swallow. That is a long time to spend with your 4children locked inside 900 square feet….

          These %$^$$^&@ snow days have come close to ruining my life this year. Children are not meant to be with their parents ALL the time…the royal families may have had it right when they used nannies and boarding schools to help with the upbringing of their children. I could do the same thing, IF I were wealthy and a part of the world’s elite…I think I could sneak into this group even if I had a Williams Sonoma Cheese Hamper. I could talk my way through the rest of the requirements, I do really well under pressure.

          My husband Jeremy doesn’t even look like himself…He looks worn down and frayed. As if the next moment could be the “one thing” that sends him into a full downward spiral. He dreads this time off in the winter more so than the summer. At least in the summer you threaten to send them outside into the land of no air conditioning and no video games and they pipe down for a while. We like to refer to this place as “outside”.

          Unfortunately if the children are out of school for Christmas break and then the full allotment of snow days, it’s often too cold for the neighbors to see you send the children out. I really don’t have time for a DHS interview right now. Who knows what I might say just to get a break. A slight slip of the tongue, and all the sudden my house is quiet…sounds too tempting.

          I see on  some social media sites that everyone is making fun of how some people, I took it to be areas that did not receive a lot of snow, seemed to freak out and buy up all the bread and milk. I felt like to depict my demographic better is to show a woman with a house full of children fighting over the same fucking item. It could be the toothpaste or it could be the TV, same difference as far as a parent is concerned. They are both “shared items”. This woman, if depicted correctly, would appear unkempt and be wearing a nightgown sans brassiere. She would have appeared to be sleep deprived and possible crying. She would look a lot like me.

          Our “Home Sweet Home” has become its own version of a 3^rd world country with an unstable government. There are back door dealings, alliances, and unconstitutional searches and seizures. There is no Geneva Convention to monitor and mandate procedures. This is MY HOUSE, and I make up the rules as I go along.

          Now, I’m sure that there are some of you who have NO idea what I’m talking about…Your children are very well behaved and never argue, let alone get physical with each other. Your house is probably perpetually clean and well maintained. If this is you congratulations, everyone hates you. You are abnormal and frankly we are scared of you. Please stay away or we will get out our Duck Dynasty guns and shoot you. This is your warning.

Forecast: 1-3 inches of snow.

         

 Things that bother me: drivers that come to a complete stop before turning, people who do not feel comfortable driving in inclement weather and yet still do so, and finally people who run out and buy every loaf of bread and jug of milk with the mention of winter weather. This week I have dealt with all of these people.

          We have experienced some colder than normal temperatures these past few days and even had some precipitation. Needless to say everyone turns into a child when they see those fluffy flakes start to turn the yard white. Something about a good snow that makes us wish adults had snow days as well….alas we do not and I, like everyone else, begins to lay out the plan for the next morning.

          I get up a little earlier than normal (03:10am) to allow for any added problems that could occur due to the temperature/snow. I (Jeremy) will start my car and had it warm and toasty, and I will leave the house with a warm jacket, hot coffee, and my fully charged cell phone. I feel as if being prepared is the way to go.

          All of my planning goes to Hell when you get behind someone who wants to drive at a maximum speed of 15 mph. I was traveling without any issues at all and I nearly rear ended a slow poke who was obviously not a confident snow driver. Because I live on a rural road, I was forced to drive at a low rate of speed for half of my trip to work. The trip that I had planned out to be without problems, the trip that I got up for at 3:10 AM!

          When we finally came to a place where there was a place to turn off, the turtle driving in front of me came to a complete stop in the middle of the road to turn….this was almost enough to enrage me. I wanted to ram my car into his and push him out of the way, I felt as if I was almost entitled to do so as he had ruined my morning.  I had planned and prepared for almost everything, except for slowpoke, which I had already decided was a 14 y/o boy or a 90 y/o man. Why must you get on my road, on a snowy morning, at 3am? Now I have to SPEED to get to work ON TIME….

          Once I got to work, and barely on time, things began to look up. Only 2 cases, and I was in the long one. I like those better for some reason. The cases started well and ended well. I saw that Jeremy had posted a pic of Cooper and Charleigh lying in bed with him. She looked so sick, I text him to take her to the doctor. I made her an appointment with our facilities employee health.

 Our hospital is awesome as the employee health facility is not just for the employees, it also services the families of the employee. When I say that its services are wonderful, I could not speak any higher of them. Dana and Tonya at the front desk, Chris, Machelle, and Ronda in the back and the wonderful nurse practitioners Kelly and Monica, they truly care and treat you as if you were  there kin. Kudos, I really do appreciate everything you do.

Lastly on my list,  I would like to address the milk and bread Nazi’s. I hope you are on your game as we are expecting snow again this weekend. From what the forecast is currently calling for, it should be anywhere from 1-3 inches in my area. This is considered to be a “big snow” around here. It is big enough that It will prevent the children from returning to school, great….My poor husband, I’ll have to put him on suicide precautions. I’ll have to take all the pills and belts from the house.

My personal goal is to spend what time and money I have left filling my shopping cart with bread and milk, not because I need it; just because I can. I will walk around the store with it until the milk starts to sweat, just in hopes of seeing their envious eyes following me.

Around here, if the forecast calls for a hard freeze, the bread and milk Nazi’s visit every grocery store in town stocking up on bread and milk thus leaving people like me without either to feed their poor children. If I beat them to the store then perhaps this group will realize what they are doing to the rest of us.

 We are  just trying to keep from having dry cereal on a cold morning without a cow in sight…..children don’t understand the obsessions of those who are convinced that they will starve to death with 3 inches of snow on the ground and yet I’m the one that has to explain this phenomenon to them. Bring on the snow and I’m going to get the shopping cart.

#milkandbread , #snowdrivers

          

A brand new year and I'm still just me

     

 New Year’s day, another year has passed and we are still here. We are still trying, perhaps not as hard as Andrew Frev http://www.huffingtonpost.co.uk/2013/12/30/andrew-frey-meth-masturbating_n_4518225.html. He is the gentleman arrested in Oregon after getting high on meth and fighting off 15 police officers, all while masturbating. That is dedication. I don’t know if I have that kind of dedication in me, even if it is the New Year and everyone should be hopeful about the possibilities that lie before us.

       Everyone I know makes New Year’s resolutions. I have never been the kind of person who believes that just because the calendar changes, so will I. Nothing changes except the date and yet the gyms will all be filled with people who have resolved to lose weight or get into shape. Weight Watchers meetings will be packed with hopeful chubby people.

       I wish I could at least try….I’m afraid the thought of me trying is blasphemy. I have tried lots of times (at different months and years. I even tried New Year’s) to get into shape and lose weight, thus prompting the guilt eating that happens when I cave and fall off the wagon. I am a disappointment.

       I know there is a skinny bitch in me, I probably ate her. I just wish that I did have the will power to turn down unhealthy foods and get up a little earlier to exercise. I am at the point where it is not a want anymore, it is a need. I simply cannot bear to get any bigger.

       I remember 100lbs ago thinking that I was so fat. I can only dream of being that fat again. My life is so inconvenienced by my weight and yet I have not “had enough” and made a life change. I guess smothering while sitting at restaurant booths and shopping in the tiny corner of the back of clothing stores hasn’t been humiliating enough. I have never figured out why we are in the back of the store, it’s like even THEY are ashamed of us…

       Even to shop for things like underwear is humiliating. If you are over a size 18, you WILL be wearing a pair of black or nude granny panties. Now factor in the fact that I have enormous breasts and my bras are practically government issued, I cannot believe my husband is still interested in me. He must have Stockholm syndrome.

       Normally I can stave off the negative feeling but every once in a while I succumb to the thoughts of granny panties and Winnie the Pooh shirts. There are only a few categories of clothing that are generally available to those women of size.

       First you have the Winnie the Pooh T-shirt. It is a second runner up of the Tasmanian Devil T-shirt. For the older plus sized crowd, there are 2 standard T-shirts available: the cat playing with the ball of yarn, and the birdhouse T-shirt.

       A good portion of plus sized clothes are elastic waisted and come up to your nipples (it’s as if they KNOW we will get bigger), or where your nipples are supposed to be. So imagine this: granny panties paired with a government issued matching nude brassiere, a T shirt with Winnie the Pooh stirring his honey pot paired with a pair of elastic waisted pants…..You are doomed.

       You have officially entered the point of no return. You will be living with your parents until they pass and then you will begin take over ownership of the 20 or so cats you will eventually amassed over the years. It is a sad prognosis.

       Perhaps I will buy into this New Year’s resolution stuff before I get so large that they have to take a wall out to get me out of the house(wearing my Winnie the Pooh T-shirt and granny panties) while TLC films the whole thing.

       My resolution is to try harder at everything that I do, or I will end up like a TLC show. I hope I can complete this without fail. I will try.