Packing a Parka...

I'm on a rotating schedule for work travel.  When my turn comes up, I can go, or decline and hope the next city is better.  We get a limited number of declines on each rotation so it's a gamble.

I declined Indiana because... it's Indiana.

The new cycle was just announced...

Anckorage Alaska

In January


I  might die.

Awesome Filth...

My mom has always stressed the importance of spending a little more money to buy quality items.  She'd rather spend $80 on a nice skirt than have eight $10 ones that fall apart quickly.

I drive a Kia and 90% of my wardrobe is from Target.

I'm not a good listener.

Naturally, my decision when purchasing a vacuum was no exception.  I started off the right place.  I asked her for advice on where to buy a fancy machine but as soon as I saw the $600 price tag, I reverted to my old cheap ways.

She also said, "Under NO circumstances should you buy a bagless vacuum.  They're terrible!!"

I brought home a $140 bagless vacuum.

My mom would be so proud.

I pulled my plastic sensation out of the box and started vacuuming, fully expecting the thing to start smoking.  Off it went, working my carpet into a tizzy, filling the clear plastic bin with dirt... and filling... and filling.. and filling.  Geez!  How filthy are my floors!?!?

I finally finished, the dirt and hair well above the 'MAX FILL LINE', and opened the container to put it into the trash. There was so much dirt packed in the container, I had to pull it out with my hands.  This was....

AWESOME!

Bagless versions are the Biore Pore Strips of vacuum cleaners.

Being Obsessive Compusive, I haven't felt this satisfied after vacuuming since I figured out how to make checkerboard patterns on the carpet like an MLB groundskeeper.

Well mom, I'm sorry, but you're wrong.  I can support your $200 purses but you've got vacuum cleaners all wrong.  I've got quite the love affair with my $140 vacuum...

even if I have to replace it 4 times in the next six months.

I've made the switch...

There's a time in all our lives when we move from dressing like the cool hip young adults we were to...dressing like uncool moms.  Sure, there are exceptions like my sisters (ugh. I hate them) but most of us?  Yeah.  We make the switch.

It doesn't happen overnight.  It takes years.  But you realize it's happening the moment you walk into the Juniors department at Macy's (or the rich folks who shop in Brass Plum at Nordy's) and think most of the clothes are ugly.  Then, trying to force yourself into being cool, you try on the clothes anyway and can't get them to fit because 'mom' shaped bodies can't squish into those skinny jeans.

And to all those stupid pictures on Facebook of half dressed moms with the byline, "I've had 8 kids and I'm a size 2!", I'd like to actually meet those women...

so I could punch them in the face.

Yes, I too weigh exactly what I did before my boys were born but you don't see me posting those photos.  Mostly because I can't get my flap of saggy stomach skin or my boobs, now located at my waist, to smile for the camera.

Chris and I wanted to have professional photos done for our Christmas cards this year and I was desperate to find an outfit.  This was made difficult because a) I have a disease called 'mom body' and b) I have $16 in my checking account.

I figured I'd find something in Forever 21 because a) from what I recall from shopping there prior to baby no. 1, they have cute clothes and b) because they have shirts for less than $16.

There is nothing cute in Forever 21.

I am so uncool.

I nearly went to the checkout, begged for mercy, and asked them to dress me.  I had two choices: a) ask an 18 year old with piercings to dress me or b)  spend 5 bucks at Rubio's on a burrito, breathing in the precious few child free minutes, and digging a 10 year old dress out of my closet.

The burrito was delicious.

I've totally turned into my mom.

Screw it.  I'm pulling out a glittered, puffy painted christmas sweater and calling it a day.