Family life, Paleo-ish eating and Coping with Chronic Illness

Posts tagged ‘Clothes’

Scott’s Favorite Holiday

NCAA Wrestling: Division 1 Championship

This past weekend was Scott’s favorite Holiday: NCAA Wrestling Championships. When the tournament has been as close as Iowa or Missouri, Scott will take our boys out of school and they go in person. I just know those trips are going to be at the top of our boys’ lists of best childhood memories. I still don’t know exactly why.

Scott is in charge of those trips. I’m not involved. It’s a good way for me to see how things would be run in our family in my absence. Not the way I’d like them to. Let’s get that straight.

Nary a hotel reservation is made, nor a single preemptive thought is given to what will be eaten or worn on these trips. I used to let this lack of preparation worry me, but now I have been forced to admit that sometimes you don’t have to be one bit prepared to have the time of your life.

Scott started going to the NCAA Wrestling Championships with his brothers many years ago, before we had kids. He and his two brothers(and sister) have always been in agreement on a lot of things. One of the things they agree on is that there is rarely a good reason to part with money. Wasting money on a bed, blankets and pillows seemed especially frivolous to those brothers.

The brothers would attend the tournament in Iowa City and just knock on the door of some people they vaguely knew when it was time to catch a few hours sleep. Those stories horrified me.

Scott was telling our kids the other night about the time his brothers and three other guys went to the tournament together. When they decided it was time to get some sleep one of the guys they were with said his friend “Sheila” said they could crash at her place.

They went to the apartment building and knocked on her door. They knocked and knocked. Then they started getting a little annoyed. I mean, she DID offer. Finally, a strange guy, who had obviously been sleeping, came to the door. Oops. Wrong apartment.

They eventually found the right apartment. They knocked again. Another strange guy came to the door. “Sheila’s” friend in the group said to the guy, “Sheila said we could stay here tonight.”

The guy’s like, “Whatever,” and let them in.

The six guys walked in and laid down on the carpeting (which you know for a FACT “Sheila”, the girl who lets large groups of strangers sleep at her house, keeps meticulously clean). They slept until it was time to go watch wrestling again.

I told Scott it’s funny how one person’s nightmare can be what another person considers a good time.

I’d like to post some pictures of these epic trips. Because Scott definitely always remembered a camera. He took a lot of pictures, and developed the pictures right away. The pictures he took look magical they way he displayed them in his scrapbooks. That’s not true. But, you knew that.

Scott’s to do list before these trips did not include remembering the camera. His to do list included one item: watch wrestling. The rest of the details he figured out as he went along.

Now my boys have similar fun NCAA Wrestling Tournament stories to tell. They talk about how hard they laughed, how awesome the wrestling was, and how great it was of their dad to splurge and buy them a piece of gum. To share.

They’re old enough now to be able to tease their dad for his funny ways; I sense that they are also being groomed. I would guess they’re quite likely some day to submit their own children to the same atrocities of cheapness come NCAA tournament time.

This year, the tournament was too far away for Scott and the boys to attend. Instead they hosted an NCAA Wrestling party at our house. Scott said he wanted it to be like the Super Bowl party he had this year. He called me one day in January and said, “I want to have a Super Bowl Party.”

That probably sounds like a normal comment to you. It made me stop what I was doing. I’ve known Scott a really long time. I’ve never heard him suggest having a party. Ever.

I asked, “What did you say? Did you just say you want to have a party? That is awesome. Who are we inviting?”

“Zeke,” he answered.

That’s for real. That conversation happened.

“Zeke? Zeke is the only person on your guest list?” I asked. “What about Eddie? Doesn’t he get to come?”

“He can come. He just doesn’t sit still, and always gets bored after a while.”

So, Eddie’s out. Zeke’s in. And that is what Scott calls a party.

They had their party, and it got a little crazy. I won’t give away all their secrets, but let me just say some some gum was split and some soda was had.

NCAA Party

*Eddie, some wrestlers and a giant chocolate bunny crashed Scott’s party. More proof that the best fun isn’t always planned.


What to Do About Dry Skin

My skin is an issue. The skin on my face, I mean. The rest of it doesn’t see the light of day. I don’t remember what it even looks like. But the skin on my face is troublesome. It’s so dry, it hurts!

I actually considered rubbing bacon fat on my face the other day when I was making breakfast. Then I thought how much I loved my dog and how much he loves me. He’s high strung, and he loves me when I DON’T smell like bacon. I’m not sure what would happen if he thought mom and bacon were the same thing. Could his heart explode? I didn’t want to risk it.

I have been in search of lotion and make-up that will add moisture and make me look like Heidi Klum. I’m so close! I have all the proper bone structure and coloring. If I just had softer skin, we’d be twins. If I had a nickel for every time someone told me I looked like Heidi Klum…um, well, I wouldn’t have any nickels.

Here’s a selfie I took when I was out with my friends. It’s easier to see the Heidi Klum resemblance from this angle and with this lighting. I’ll admit, I get a little shy about all the attention.


One of my friend’s husbands asked me if that selfie was a picture of a face or a butt. That was not nice. And it’s pretty easy to tell when people are jealous of you. They make comments like that.

heidi Klum

I am looking for foundation too. I’ve tried all the cheap brands from Walgreens. My face hates these products. I put it on and an hour later I can hear my face scream, “Blaach! Get this crap off of me!” I’m itchy and I can feel my skin burn. The other day I got it in my head that I needed go to the mall and splurge on some higher end department store brand.

I ran this errand on my lunch hour. I go to the mall so infrequently. I got side tracked when I walked by all the clothes. I thought, “Oh, so this is what the young kids are wearing these days. Well, aren’t they a bunch of little tramps!” No, you know I wouldn’t say that. I said, “Well, aren’t they a confident bunch a little gals. Bless their hearts.” You know that old joke about being able to throw out any wicked insult you like, as long as you follow it up with “Bless their heart.” You should try it. It works. Especially if you’re with your kids and you want to reassure them that you’re still nice mom and not mean mom.

You know, like if a guy blows through a stop sign when it was your turn and then flips you off, you can say, “I’m gonna kill that big, fat, crusty, hairy ape! Bless his heart.” Then you can drop the kids off, and go find him so you can run him over.

But, we were talking about the mall, and the mall is crazy. You wouldn’t believe it. I don’t know why I don’t go more often. There’s gobs of clothes just sitting there, waiting to be bought. It’s way easier than I thought.

You see how I get side tracked? We were talking about my errand, and I really wish for once you could just stay on task. I started running a little late, so when I saw a make-up store called, “Bare Minerals”, I decided that was my skin miracle. It was a WHOLE store dedicated to make up. You just knew it HAD to be good, or they wouldn’t have a whole store devoted to it, right? Plus, the name of it is “BARE Minerals”. That means there must not be many chemicals in their make-up, or they couldn’t call it “Bare”, and they couldn’t say “Minerals”. Hello! That’s just a little something I learned when I was earning my LAW Degree. Or, maybe it was a Communications Degree. We’re not splitting hairs here today. That is just how I shop. I research stuff to death.

I thought I’d run in and buy a bottle and be on my way. Well, no, silly. You have to sit down and have someone show you how to apply it. It’s about an 18 hour tutorial. And, let me tell you the truth, you need that tutorial. Assembling a transmission would involve fewer steps than what I learned there that day. There’s moisturizing, illuminizing, priming, neutralizing, buffing and highlighting; plus, a few other steps that I forget. It’s a serious program.

One of the demonstrators told me that it’s super easy. See, buffing is the key to the whole thing. You have GOT to buff. This demonstrator said she just buffs her face while she makes her coffee in the morning. I got excited. I’m like, “That DOES sound easy. I’ll just bring my buffer and buff when I am buying groceries on my lunch hour, or when I’m watching my kids play sports. I have never really heard of anything so simple.”

They’re all like, “See? Now you get it.”

Because I’m not big on telling people no, and because I really, really liked having someone else do my make up, I bought the starter kit. It was $75, but my face looked so soft and smooth. I thought it would certainly be worth the money and the extra effort.

bare essentials

It was fun for the first couple of days. You know, like I lived in L.A.. I felt like I was doing my make up for my next photo shoot. I laid out all my brushes and powders, and I had the instruction book near by, in case I had a question and needed to look something up. I thought I could really get into this. It could be the start of a whole new lifestyle for me. I thought I might call later to set up some Pilates classes for myself, and it was definitely time to start up some weekly pedicures.

By the third day, when I was running late and fishing around my make-up bag to find all seven of my new tools buried under broken eye brow pencils and eye shadows with missing covers, I remembered that I forgot something. I’m a practical mom from Wisconsin with three kids, a full time career and 13 seconds to put her make up on each morning. I do NOT have time for this. But, moms like me are not in the habit of wasting money either. I knew that meant I was stuck with buffing, priming and illumizing until every last drop or that crap is gone.

I looked over at Scott’s side of the vanity and I saw what he used to get ready that morning: deodorant and toothpaste. Then I thought about the bar of Irish Spring in the shower that he uses to wash his face every day. The soap that would give me third degree burns if I tried to use it. I was sad.

It’s not like I cursed or cried or anything like that. I just took a moment to breath, a calm cleansing breath. I inhaled deeply and assumed a posture of gratitude. Then I looked at myself in the mirror and I said gently and with forgiveness, “You stupid idiot, you could have tried bacon grease! Bless your heart.”

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