3 Things You Should...

...never tell your kids to get them to try a food

1) There are starving children in ______ (Africa, China, Somalia, Mars, etc). This isn't going to mean a thing to most kids because faced with a plate of something they consider to be too gross to eat, they'll choose starvation at least temporarily. And since most kids have never come anywhere close to starvation themselves, they have no idea what you are talking about anyway. Besides, that's so 80's.

2) It's better than what they would serve you on Fear Factor.  This isn't going to work because Fear Factor isn't on anymore and even if it were, would you REALLY be letting your small child watch it? (If the answer is yes, you can stop reading now, I can't help you.) Second, Fear Factor contestants are trying to win $50,000. Unless you are willing to pony up some serious cash, this argument is now invalid. And if you are wiling to pony up the cash, you're creating way more problems than you are solving.

3) You are going to sit there until you try it. Encouraging a stand off is a sure fire way to make sure everyone loses. If you have a particularly stubborn child, prepare to be at that table with them for a while; possibly until the next meal, and possibly until the next morning. And you and I both know you have better things to do. Like watch paint dry.

5 Ways To...

deal with a temper tantrum by our resident diva. (This may or may not work on any other kid...but probably not)

1) Let her get it out of her system. Prepare yourself, this will probably take a while.  And by a while, I mean a long, long, long time. Or it could just feel that way. Depends on the day. And the tantrum cause. The trick is to maintain eye contact unless she's in a "don't LOOK at me" mood and then, for heaven's sake DON'T look at her. The only time you should ever interrupt or comment is when she is obviously waiting for you to do so. Keep it non-committal and simple. "I see" or "I hear you" or "no wonder"

2) Understand that no logic, no matter how brilliant, is going to help. Especially pointing out the obvious. Especially when pointing out the obvious obviously has something to do with the situation being caused by her actions.

3) On the other hand, disrespect is never okay. Tantrums are all about attention - at least in this house. Being tired, hungry, or not feeling well never helps, but with the diva, it really is based on wanting attention. But it is never okay to be disrespectful or mean and if she takes that turn, well...someone is going to solitary confinement (aka her room). And if she fights it, she keeps doubling the time.

4) Offer a hug, but don't insist. Sometimes, if you catch it just right,  you can avoid the escalation all together. Appreciate those moments. Also appreciate that your diva can still be comforted by a hug. Those days are about to disappear for about a decade or so.

5) Make her laugh or distract her. This can be really tricky. Sometimes whatever the issue is can be laughed off but other times it can't. Frankly, it's still a guessing game even after 6 years but when you see the corner of her mouth quirk upward against her will, break out your best material and go for it.

And don't forget to look at the bright side - you are getting tons of experience for the teenage years.

Did I catch you at a bad time?

Oh HO! The moment I saw this, I knew exactly what to write.

In different times of my life, I have spent a gracious plenty of time on the phone. Customer service, collections, as a key spouse, working with the PTO, as a Beachbody coach, even a short miserable stint as a telemarketer (I sold aluminum siding. It was horrid.)

One universal truth has come out of my years of experience - and if you know me in real life, this will make perfect sense - I am awful to talk to when I have to call someone I don't know. Especially if I don't want to call them in the first place. UGH.

The worst of the worst were my key spouse experiences. A key spouse is the go-to gal for a squadron - especially for the spouses of deployed Airmen. It's kind of like the way the FRG was portrayed in Army Wives. Kinda.

In the year or so that I was a key spouse, I don't think I had more than three non-awkward conversations with a deployed spouse. In general, the conversation went like this:


Spouse: Hello?
Me: Hi. Is this Mrs. Spouse? (I am SO original)
Spouse: (cautiously) um...yes...
Me: My name is Brooke and I'm one of the key spouses for the Comm Squadron. I wanted to take a moment and call and introduce myself.
::crickets::
Me: I know your husband has been gone for a couple days. Have you been able to talk to him since he left?
Spouse: uh, sure.
Me: Okay, that's good. I'm here to help you in any way I can during this deployment and to keep you informed of stuff going on around base and within the squadron.
Spouse: okay.
Me: Is there anything you need? Is everything going okay so far?
Spouse: I'm fine.
Me: Do you have any questions I can answer or is there any information I can give you?
Spouse: no.
Me: I'd like to make sure that I stay in touch with you. I'd like to call you about once a week or so. Would that be okay?
Spouse: Why?
Me: Just to touch base and make sure you are doing okay.
Spouse: oh.
Me: When is the best time to call?
Spouse: I don't know. Whenever.
Me: Is there a time that I shouldn't call - for example, if you have younger kids who nap...
Spouse: not really
Me: Alright. If you don't mind, I'd like to just confirm I have all the correct contact information for you.
Spouse: you called me so you have my number
Me: yes, but I'd also like to get your email address and your cell number if you have one, just in case.
Spouse: Just in case what?
Me: just in case I am not able to reach you at this number for some reason.
Spouse: Oh. No. I don't want to give you my cell phone number.
Me: Okay, that's fine. How about an email address?
Spouse: No. I'm not giving you my email address.
Me: Alright. Would you like to receive our newsletter? It comes out monthly.
Spouse: no.
Me: okay. Is there anything in particular you might be interested in? Maybe the deployed spouse dinners or some of the activities on base?
Spouse: Not really.
Me: Well, I really appreciate your time today. I'll give you a call next week around this time and see how you're doing.
::crickets::
Me: I hope you have a good day. Let me give you my contact information in case there's anything you need.
Spouse: I don't want it.
Me: But...
click

Cringe. worthy.

Well, this is weird...

Welp...I made it 12 days out of the 31 blog prompt challenge days last month. If I played baseball, I'd be golden. But I don't. So I'm trying again. I did, however, manage to complete the January Ab Challenge created by the amazing Doreen Warfield on Facebook AND..AND this month I'm actually running a Facebook ab challenge of my own. Interested in joining? Comment below or email me. We have a lot of fun in these challenges. I make up goofy lyrics to awesome songs. What can I say? I was inspired by the Christmas Jammies video.

Anywho...I'm glad to be back and writing. Okay, I'm glad to be back and attempting to write. Again.

ahem.

Yesterday's prompt was 'Well, this is weird...' Since I decided sleep was more important last night, I went to bed without writing or posting. So, lucky readers, you'll get two posts today.

You're welcome. :)

Yesterday I went to get my hair done. And by done, I mean overhauled. And by overhauled, I mean cut, color, and highlighted. If I were in a hair addicts anonymous group (which I should be) my introduction would go like this:

Hi. I'm Brooke and I'm a hair addict. To me, being a hair addict means I spend an obscene amount of money on my hair and on hair product. I'm a huge fan of Pureology, for example. I also have all sorts of shampoo, conditioner, deep conditioner, leave-in conditioner, hair masque (which is worth every doggone cent), mousse, volumizer, color protectant, heat styling serum, hair spray, root lifter, shine spray. I have hair dryers (yes, plural), a flat iron, a curling iron or three, an electric hot air brush, and multiple combs and brushes. I am out of control.

But Brooke, lots of people have lots of hair product. Why is that weird?

It's weird because I rarely use it. I love the idea of product and what it's supposed to do. But I hate the feel of product in my hair. I don't like having to wash my hair every day. I really, really don't like spending more than 10 minutes drying and styling my hair to have it look great when I leave the bathroom but look like all I did was roll out of bed and not shower two hours later. That's just depressing. Maybe I used all my hair styling time in the 80's. Cause in the 80's, my hair regularly looked like this:

I know, right?!?!!?

Plus, these days, there's no real reason to make the effort. No I'm not depressed. No I'm not too lazy. And yes, to a degree I care about my appearance. Part of the problem is that my hair is thinning by the day and it's very fine and limp. Another problem is that I have a bit of an attitude about the whole outward appearance thing. I know I shouldn't, but I do. I'm a genuinely good person. Why do I need to product up and slap on make-up to earn the chance for someone else to see that. Petulant, right? I know. I'm not proud of it. But there you go.

But I love, love, love the idea of good hair. I love it when the weather, humidity level and my hair cooperate and I feel like my outside matches my inside. Those are good days. And to get those few good days, I'm willing to try any product once. What I'm not willing to do is throw it away if I don't like it because one morning I might magically wake up and BOOM! I'll have good hair again. Every. Day.

It could happen. It could!

So with all that considered, I have a particular fondness for the amazing hair stylists I've met in my life. There are three of them. Each one has been able with the wrap of the cape, a layer or two or three of color, and some really sharp scissors, to make me feel really beautiful.

You are wondering who they are, right? And you're wondering if one lives near you so you can maybe try them out, right?!? I think that's a great idea. Here you go:

Wayne Tuggle at 40 Vol. Hair in Winston-Salem. The man is magic. MAGIC. Plus, he's just a really cool guy. He's been doing my hair on and off for over 10 years. If you've ever used Big Sexy Hair Product (of course I have and yes, it's great), he and the guy behind Big Sexy Hair have created a new line of product called Rock Your Hair. So far, everything I've tried in that line has been pretty great too.

Amy Unthank. I went to several people in the Scott Air Force Base before finding Amy. And while some of them were good, no one even came close to how great she is. She's also fabulous with cuts and color. And she's a genius with eyebrows. Amy works at Nirvana Salon in O'Fallon, Illinois. She is Talented (with an intentional capital T). Plus, she's one of the nicest people on the planet. And if you feel like pampering yourself even further, check out Monika Ruzicka. Monika is a gal of many talents - make-up, facials, waxing, etc.

Jennifer Temple. Anyone who's ever gone to Jen knows how amazing she is with color. And I mean amazing. She's a fellow Air Force Wife and right now she's stationed in England. She used to work out of her house, but she had her second beautiful child within the last year and she may not be accepting clients. Which is understandable, but sad since she's brilliant. And sweet. I really miss her. ::sad face::

So yesterday, as I left Wayne's salon (and I have to give a shout out to Courtney for stylin' my new improved 'do) I fell back in love with my hair. How in love, you are wondering? So in love that I actually did my hair today and we weren't planning on going anywhere or seeing anyone. And when I came out of the bathroom, Tucker said, "WOW, Mom! You look great!" and Sara said, "Pretty, Mommy! Why don't you do that every day?" and Robert widened his eyes in surprise, which with anyone else would be the same as saying 'Day-um, girl! You look gooooooood!' AND - it only took 15 minutes.

I'm even planning to do my hair tomorrow. I may even use some product in it.

Well, this is weird!

Can I just get my...

...fake award speech out of the way tonight?

It's Golden Globe night, you guys! Award season is in full swing!

Normally, I'm not a big one for awards shows, but obviously someone has hit me on the head and slightly altered/partially replaced my personality.

OR - I'm just so bereft at the fact that The Walking Dead isn't back for another month that I'll watch anything else on Sunday night.

I was kind of hoping they were nominated, but I was way too lazy to even check on that. (They weren't.)

Plus, I love Tina Fey and Amy Poehler and they were hosting. So, there you go.

When I was little, I wanted to be famous. I didn't really know famous for what, I just wanted to be onstage in a beautiful dress with hair and make up done thanking people for helping me get to where I was. But, recognizing that I didn't possess that caliber of talent, that little fantasy has always remained just that.

Well, until tonight!

Tonight I'd like to thank all of you who read this blog, who comment on it, who share it with your friends, who email me. I'd like to accept the generous, generous gift of your time and attention. Even those out there who read this and use my words to make fun of me. Thank you too, because 1) you are still reading, 2) it helps me not to take myself too seriously, and 3) it helps me not to take non-constructive criticism to heart anymore. (That's HUGE!).

I am honored that my words can touch you in some way, that you think I'm a good story teller, and that you can relate to what I put out there. I write for me, but it's the most amazing feeling to know that people who aren't your teachers and who haven't assigned this piece of writing are reading your words. So thanks! Thanks for sharing  your lives back with me. Just...thanks!

We spent months...

...planning our last move. There were checklists, schedules, lists of possible issues and solutions. (Yes, I'm THAT person). Research was done, I bugged the crap out of my friend Tina about what neighborhoods would be potentially good choices for us to live in. We did a drive-through when we headed to see family for Christmas last year. (By the way, driving through didn't give us a single, accurate impression.)

Being a military family, we have moved a fair amount of times. It does get easier in some ways the more you do it. In others, it stinks just as mightily as the first time. Do we have it down to a science? Um, no. Not even. Every time we PCS Robert and I start to question why exactly it is we thought the other one would be a good life partner choice.

Thank goodness the military moves us
or this is how we'd do it!

But after the carpal tunnel recedes from my wrists from all the scrubbing and the skin grows back; after I have militantly decided how the new kitchen should be arranged (and no it's not open for discussion); after the last box has been unpacked and broken down; after we've made seven trips to Goodwill or the Salvation Army to donate all the things we don't have space for or it turns out we can, indeed, live without; things settle down and we realize that all things considered, it's not so bad. And, eventually, Robert and I like each other again. He likes me after I get the kitchen unpacked and cook for him and allow him to have more of the closet than I get (without complaining (thankyouverymuch), and I like him after he helps me move things eighteen different places until I'm satisfied (and he doesn't complain about that).


So now, here we are in one of the most beautiful places on the planet, living in a great house. While nothing is exactly how I pictured it in my mind, for the most part, we are pretty happy here. Well, at least until we have to drive somewhere and end up trying to read the minds of other drivers (turn signals and working brake lights, people. That is all.).

So was it worth all the planning? Meh. Maybe. But I'd rather over plan than under plan. Kind of like over thinking versus under thinking.

I never received an answer

When I saw this prompt, I had two choices (post wise, anyway). I could talk about all the times I've asked a question and never gotten an answer - OR - I could take this topic in a more spiritual direction.

Decisions, decisions.

But since I've listed this as a 'humor blog' in a place or two, I decided to go with the option a.

First up, why (and I'm guilty of doing this too) is it that when people don't want to tell you no, that they just don't answer you. For example:

Me - Hey! Let's do ______ sometime.
Pause.
Person I'm talking to ::crickets::
Me - So...that's a no?
Person I'm talking to - I'll let you know.

Or!

Me: Kids - have you done _______ yet?
Kids: scatter like rats deserting a ship.

Or!

Me: (before I met Robert) I had a good time tonight.
Random date: uh huh
Pause
Me: So, thanks...
Random date: I'll...uh...call you.
Me: Oooookay.

Or you get invited to some sort of event where you are ideally expected to attend, bring a friend, and spend money (the more the better). I don't have a problem with this unless I have attended events for someone else who never, ever reciprocates. Then I start avoiding a response myself. And the reason I avoid a response is basically twofold. One, I'm really honored to be invited to anything. Ever. Two, because I can be guilted into things fairly easily.

However I secretly have a little scoreboard in my head that appears ::poof!:: before my eyes when I get these invitations. Oh lets see...I've attended or ordered from five or six different things for you, and I've invited you to several things for me, and not only do you not come or order, but you never acknowledge me in general unless you want me to buy something. But giddy invitation glow and easy guilt aside, even I have my limits. I don't ever want to hurt anyone's feelings, but there is no way I'm going to show up for some sort of Tupperware/jewelry/home goods show and not spend money. I just can't. I haven't decided if that's a flaw or a personality bonus. I know I need to let stuff like roll off my back, but speaking for myself only, I really would rather hear a negative response -- and by that I mean no/I don't want to do that/can't come/think that sounds horrible/would rather pull my toenails out with rusty nails licked by rabid raccoons than for it to be pretended that I don't warrant/deserve/rate a response. But maybe that's just me.