A NON-PARTISAN BLOG POST - No, I swear, it really is.

Last January I made a resolution to blog once a week.  My passion is writing.  My passion is writing funny stuff that is based on reality.  My reality.  I have been so busy that I have forgotten how to blog - I write them in my head all the time - just never get pen to paper - or fingers to keys since it is actually almost 2013.  Next year.  Next year will be different.  I will try harder.

That said, this past election has inspired me to blog.  Because I have a damn good idea for next time.

So, take the red and blue map away and ignore the square footage of our country.  Let's pretend for a minute that an election is based on what the people want and not the electoral college (insert heavy sigh from blah blah blah we need the electoral college blah blah blah type sticks in the muds) and you find that almost every election is - for the sake of argument - split down the middle.  Some small town in rural O-H-I-O might make up the difference one way or another.  Whatever.  But here is my point.  We, as a country, are SPLIT DOWN THE MIDDLE as to what we think is the right thing for said country.  One side thinks they are right.  The other side thinks they are right.  One side thinks the other side is stupid.  The other side thinks that side is stupid.  Name calling.  BAM BAM SLAP CLICK SEND and we have a war on Facebook.

[Note:  I would NEVER get into a political argument on Facebook.  *straightens halo*]

[WHAT WAS THAT LIGHTNING BOLT?!]

[Anyhow.]

So forget trying to do away with the electoral college.  Let's do away with the entire system altogether.

Now, listen.  I never read the Hunger Games but from what I have heard, I think they might be onto something.  What if each side called up an "opponent" per se.  "I, Tami Walsh, call up you, Mitt Romney, to fight to your death for our country on the White House lawn."  Yeah, this would take place just outside the Rose Garden.  Hells yeah.  So each side calls up a guy.  And here's the thing.  They get to bring people with them that represent what they want/think is right for the country.  So, like, Republicans can bring military generals and budget guys and Democrats can bring gays (not hating, just stating - and I know a bunch of awesome gay guys that could take a military general down in a heartbeat) and Nancy Pelosi.  I know, right?  Good fight!  They also have to bring the most embarassing guy (or girl) that is in their party.  So Republicans will bring the guys that are jacking off other guys in airport bathrooms and the Democrats can choose between the Clintons.  (side note:  I saw Bill Clinton speak at a Club Trip for my husband's company and I have to admit - I like the guy.  A lot.  Kind of how I like George Bush.  A lot.  Would like to have dinner with these guys.  Nice, kind, smart.......  Hey! Stop making fun of George.)  

Dinner would be lovely.  *daydream*

Ok, back to the presidency.  So here we are on the White House lawn and these guys are standing there.  Ready, set, go.  And they fight to their death and, ultimately, we have a new president.  And a bloody mess (not the UK kind, the real kind) on the lawn but in this illusion there is staff that takes care of that.

Oh! Oh!  It would also be funny, if there were bleachers set up like a high school football stadium and one side started yelling stuff like "Tastes great!" and the other side responds with "Less filling!"  Only one side would be yelling "Stop Hate!" and the other side would be yelling "Less Spending!"  Anyhow .....

It's an interesting concept.  I don't really want anyone to die.

We need a change in the system.  We do, as a country, need to be able to work together.  I'm not going to lie - I voted for Mitt Romney because I thought he was the better choice.  The end.  And I was ticked yesterday.  But today is a new day and here is what it boils down to:  As a country we NEED to succeed.   If you are a democrat, you need to work hard to prove the republicans wrong.  They (we) want to be proven wrong because it means OUR COUNTRY will succeed.   Republicans need to keep on keeping on.  Fighting about which side is right will never work.  Let's put that effort into making our country better.  God Bless America and Goodnight.

Now, I need to be getting back to Facebook because I think there is a debate I haven't weighed in on yet.

Would You Like to See My Peacock?

For Hallie's Halloween costume 2 years ago I decided she should be a peacock. Might be the dumbest decision ever. I thought I'd share it because it was the most expAnsive costume I have ever made (and I want to pimp it out on Pinterest). I did buy the tutu dress from some site on etsy (wish I could link it here but can't remember the name!) but thought making the feathers would be the easy part.... um no. I wish I had a progress pictorial to show you how I did it. But I don't. So I'll just tell you and you will have to use your imaginations... (I am still recovering from the glue gun burns.)

First I bought a turquoise fairy wing set. And some black boa feather things. And 5 zillion peacock feathers. Who knew those were going to be SO expensive? Then I alternately glued the feathers long and short on both sides and put the boa feathers at the bottom to hide the stems....

Now, I am trying to erase the mental images of us walking to the pre-trick-or-treat party at my neighbor Pam's house when she said she wasn't going to wear the feathers and I sent the boys on ahead of me so I could, through gritted teeth, tell her oh-yes-she-was-bless-her-heart.

In my opinion, the cutest part of the costume were the chucks on her feet. Now I am stuck with a 3 foot wide set of feathers and no where to store them. And I can't get myself to sell them.

Here is a close up of the back:

And of the front:

And, of Darth Vadar. Note the feathers. Oh right. Sometimes arguing with a toddler is SO not worth it.

Happy Halloween - just a couple months early. ;o)

Am I Turning into My Mother? Part 1. {Nike is Driving Me to the Poor House.}

Let me set the scene.... it was 1985-ish... Michael Jackson was going to be my husband [Billie Jean was NOT his lover], my spiral perm was fresh [my hair is thick.... spiral perm was awesome], my preppy handbook said my name was Tiffy, and I really wanted Guess jeans. I can remember wanting them so bad. I can still picture how they were hung on the rack against the white wall at Marshall Fields that backed up to the escalator. Facing forward. Lit up like heaven had shined upon them.

ME: Mom, I like totally really want this one pair of jeans...

MOM: What jeans?

ME: Guess. They are totally rad.

MOM: Jordache? Sergio Valente?

ME: No. Guess jeans.

MOM: Levis?

ME: Levis? Gag me with a spoon.

This is kind of how it went with my mother. So I took her to Marshall Fields and showed her the jeans. I could pretty much talk my mom into most things over time so I was sure I would go home with those jeans. I had the outfit for school on Monday picked out in my head - I had this super cute purple Forenza sweater I planned to wear with them. I can, to this day, remember how it felt to want those jeans so bad. And I can remember, to this day, how it felt to go home without that $50 pair of jeans.

MOM: $50 for a pair of jeans?

ME: *tears well in eyes*

MOM: No way.

My mom was the mom who bought the IZOD shirts at garage sales and took the alligator off and sewed it on my polo shirts from JC Penneys. You know your mom did that, too. Oh she didn't? Whatever. But I knew, deep in my heart, she was planning on buying those jeans that way and taking the triangle patch off the back and sewing it on my jeans from Kohls or wherever.

I never did get the Guess jeans that year.

So here we are, like 15 (*cough25cough*) years later, and I actually said these words. Out loud. To my totally rad pre-teenager.

"$12.00 for one pair of socks? That you will put a hole in in a month?"

These socks.

There is no way to fake these socks but I'm not going to lie. I did think about it. And I have some pretty strong feelings on this sock look the boys are going for these days.

This is the look I am referring to:

And here are my thoughts:

1. Boys. Socks pulled halfway up to your knees with slides [people over 40: slides are the current day version of the flip flops the soccer players used to wear so they didn't ruin their cleats] or tennis shoes [people from the south: tennis shoes are sneakers] is a look you will regret in 20 years. Your future children will make fun of you the way we make fun of my dad for wearing socks with his sandals.

Sidenote: There are no looks I regret.

*slowly creeps out of room*

2. I am already getting ripped off by Nike when I pay $19 for a 3 pack of black socks. That are the wrong socks. (Refer to above picture for wrong socks)

(2 1/2. I know you are still thinking about my big hair and, well, yeah, that's Bill Rancic and me at a date party. We were married. Watch out Giuliana.)

3. How are socks sick? "These socks are sick, mom." Do they have anything contagious I wonder?

[Here I am going to digress. I like to think of myself as a pretty cool and hip mom. Saying I am a hip mom does not make me cool OR hip. It makes me old. I don't get why things are sick or phat or beast. I mean, I *get* it ..... I just think it's stupid. I got swag, I am phat but not fat, my jeans are sick (now that I pay for them myself) and my personality is beast. Word.]

4. Who decided these socks were cool? The ones you had to have. Did some 12 year old mother f-er walk into Dick's Sporting Goods and find the most expensive pair of socks and say these are the socks that are cool and I will tell the world (probably via Twitter because I don't twitter and wouldn't know if this happened) that they are the only socks that are cool and if you don't wear these specific socks, you are a total douche. (Douche is a cool word for dork. For realz yo.)

5. TRUTH: I am going to buy these socks. And I am going to go broke buying these socks. The younger two will have to forgo braces because I will have spent all that money on socks.

6. These socks better not disappear in the washer/dryer like all the other socks do. Or, for $12 per pair, they better come with some sort of tracking device. Like a find my iSock™ app or something. (I don't think iSock™ is trademarked but if it's not, I'm going to invent it so I put that there to protect me. What?)

All I know is that raising kids in today's age really socks. It's really hard to draw the line (onthebackofthesock) in what they can or cannot have. I guess socks are the least of my problem and I should be thankful ..... he'll probably be asking for a corvette when he turns 16.

Um, no.

I Have the Fever & I Hope it's Not Contagious! {A blog about Motherhood and Justin Bieber}

So let me set the scene. The family, decked out in our Packer gear, is holding our breath as we watch the Packers "play football" against the New York Giants on Sunday night for the chance to advance to the NFC Championship game and eventually the Superbowl. I got a lot of flack for looking past this game with the Giants and onto next week with the 49ers. Truth is .... it is my job to anticipate who we will play, if we win, and wish for one team or another team to win/lose and it is the players responsibility to worry about the current week. Apparently we all were looking ahead. But I digress as this is not a post about how bitter I am that the Packers lost last night. Or depressed. Or just in a funk. It's not about my Pack Fever at all.

It's about my BIEBER FEVER!

*cough* *sneeze* Sorry. Hope you don't catch it.

So last night (*coughafterthePackerschokedandwelostasupercriticalgameagainstthenewyorkgiantscongratseliandteamcough*) we flipped on netflix because really? Who wants to watch the Giants celebrate? In Green Bay? And what better of a way to take our minds off of The Green Bay Packers than a movie entitled Never Say Never - the Justin Bieber Story. (This might not be the real title - but it's the one I'm going with because it's damn close and I'm too lazy to do a google search)

The boys? Not happy. NOOOOO! NOT JUSTIN BIEBER!!!! DAD!!!! MOM!!!!!! Even Hallie (THREE YEARS OLD) was saying "I hate JUSTIN BIEBEH!" Um yeah ... sure you do copycat. So in an effort to get them to watch this movie with us we threw in a card game.

OK, now, being a 40 something woman with 3 kids - none of whom are girls between 7-13 who adore the Biebs - I really did not know much about this kid. I did admit this past Christmas that I think he has a very nice voice - even after he [allegedly] went through puberty. I also think he was blessed with some very good looks..... *swoon* (Kidding ... sort of)

But the story of this kid ..... his talent so young, his relationship with his family and friends .... the way he pursued his dreams and his mom was skeptical. This is a regular old kid whose mom just supported his dream. And let me tell you about the crazies I know.... I know a few people who will go to any lengths to get their kid noticed - modeling, traveling to Disney tryouts, etc etc .... these are also the people who *think* their kids are perfect and brag about them all. the. time. You know who they are.

But the Biebs? This movie - with the videos of him as a toddler - and the backstage stuff - really got to me. At one point Justin is so sick he can't sing and has to cancel one performance and literally looks like he is going to cry. And he tweets about it and a gazillion (it's a number, look it up) girls are all like awwwww ... feel better .... and then he tweets that he is sorry and he doesn't want to let anyone down. And then shoot to him the next week running around a park playing football with his buddies.... I mean really? This is a Good. Kid. Period.

[disclaimer: Now that he is successful and almost an adult, I am sure we may see him shave his head and go crazy like Britney Spears did, but, as a mother, I hope not.]

I'm not going to lie. At one point I was in tears. Literal tears for Justin Bieber.

So it got me to thinking - do I have the fever? Do I have the BIEBER. FEVERRRRR? *cold compress to head*

And if I do, how did I catch it? (the movie is the obvious answer here) And why do I have it? Well, I'll tell you why. Because I am a mom. And Justin Bieber represents every single one of our kids. The ones who sing and dance and the ones who don't. The smart ones who get straight A's and the ones who need ritalin to get through a day. (side note: Justin's 7th grade teacher described him as a kid who had energy all day..... LOL ..... perky in the morning and still perky by last period)

Justin Bieber represents our kids - Justin Bieber represents, to me, that my kid can do what he/she wants if he/she puts his/her mind to it. We all want our kids to succeed .... to find happiness in whatever they do .... and Justin Bieber proves they can, and sometimes, even though you are living your dream and making money and having fun, you still miss your family in Canada and want to go home. No matter who you are or what you do.

So, if you have netflx or are so inclined to rent it, see if you can get through it without catching the fever. Good luck! :)

(And as far as my Pack Fever? I've retired the Rodgers jersey until next year - you know ... when we will still be better than the Bears and that's all that matters.)