Archive for January, 2007

Training…

This Completely Breaks My Rule of No “A” Discussions (Please don’t make me regret it)

I still remember the day my mom came home with them. It was the fourth grade and I was overcome with embarrassment and fear of what the other kids in my class would say. I fought having to wear them and didn’t think it was all that necessary at the time. Training bras. Blah.My dad thought it was hilarious and had no end to the jokes such as, “what are you gonna train those babies to do?” My thought at the time was to train them to stay how they were because I didn’t think any of the other girls needed to wear a bra and I didn’t want to be any different. I hated. every. single. minute. of these conversations and couldn’t even imagine girls wanting? to wear a bra? why?

Now A is in fourth grade. She WANTS to wear a bra. She doesn’t NEED to wear one. Not only does she WANT to wear one, she feels compelled to make sure everyone notices her wearing one. Padding, colors that show through white shirts, the whole nine yards. I really can’t understand it. She even tells me that as far as she knows, no other girls in her class are wearing them yet. why?

I did give in and get her a few. It made for some nice girly shopping which we don’t do ever. Of course, that could be because I don’t shop usually unless it is for something I absolutely need, then it is go in grab it and pay. No browsing, no window shopping, no purchasing unnecessary items. I know, I am hardly a women. I do feel bad A won’t get that famous browsing the mall and looking for ways to throw away money. She is going to grow up so un-American.

But anyway, back to the shopping for the training items. I pick out some nice plain cotton ones. Apparently those aren’t going to give the non existing body parts enough support, because she is vying for a pink padded one. (How can you pad something that isn’t there to begin with, you ask? Well in this case, it is padding the air between, if you know what I mean.) I buy the white and the pink one remembering how uncomfortable I was with this entire thing when I was in fourth grade and lay some rules down. White under white. Pink padder must be approved before wearing and can only be worn with certain articles of clothing.

Day one and she wears one of the white ones and comes home from school disappointed. No one noticed or said anything. Great! I say. No, she says. (I am not sure what she was expecting? An announcement on the PA?)

Day two and she comes out of her room in the pink padder under a white shirt, obviously killing my 2 rules. I tell her to change and a huge temper tantrum ensues. She wants to wear the pink under white so people will notice. why?

Day three and a few more go by, nothing interesting to note until almost a week later. Pink under white popping out very strangely. (this is a fourth grader remind you) tantrum ensues again and I call the entire thing off. haha. literally. If she can’t act mature enough to wear the trainers, follow some simple rules and not throw a tantrum like a 2 year old, well, we can wait a little bit longer. Like as long as we possibly can, until they are actually needed.

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Posted in blast from the past | 4 Comments »

The Wedding…

I have had several of you inquire about THE WEDDING and for the most part, it was ok. I really didn’t find a dress that was to die for, but settled on one and made the best of it. This is why I am not going to post a world wide photo of me in it. I am definitely not thrilled with how I looked, but it was appropriate and for whats it worth covered enough of my body that I don’t like showing to the entire community.

My sitter got here early and was a life saver feeding the kids and getting them ready for bed. This was the first time that J and I went out without having the kids in bed already. I was completely worried about the kids tying the poor girl up and her never wanting to set foot in our house again, but she was excellent and had it all under control Not a small feat, especially for a 16 year old.

The ceremony was painful. The place was beautiful, the people Hollywood gorgeous, but the pastor was uncomfortably annoying. He kept trying to make small jokes regarding the groom about his line of work and was essentially putting him down and I was embarrassed for him and the groom. Not professional at all. Then he tried to put this extra ceremony in where he made a commitment to the couple individually and was a little over the top and made me feel uncomfortable on how long and how often he went on about the bride’s outward beauty. If I was the groom or the pastor’s wife I think I would of been ticked.

The reception. This was by far my favorite part. I know its vain, but when we pulled up to the spot, the streets were lined with people trying to get a glimpse of who was there and people were taking pictures and asking for autographs. I felt like I was walking the red carpet. I even had a women pull on me and told me how much she loved my dress. She must of been partially blind. The security was high and two guys managed to sneak in for a few minutes only to be hauled off by the police.

At the dessert table I met Mr. Stern and his girlfriend. They were surprisingly normal and nice. I could barely get feeble words out. We sat next to Mr. Hogan and his family. He was a riot having a little too much to drink and his girls were acting very hum. well. interesting. Their mom yelled at them and I wondered if they hung around Paris at all by the way they acted. Maybe that’s how a lot of spoiled rich girls act. I wouldn’t know. The Swinging Mooks played, which Hubby and I love, unfortunately we didn’t stay long enough to really hear them break it down. The food was pretty good and overall the entire night wasn’t as bad as I had feared. We only stayed for a few hours at the reception, and heard things really heated up after we left. Oh well. If we stayed any longer we would of had to pay our babysitter our month salary and I figured we better quit while we were ahead.

So that’s about it. Hopefully that will be our last major event with that crowd for awhile. I like small intimate gatherings with people I don’t read about in the papers or watch on tv. It was a once in a lifetime thing, so I am glad we got to experience that. Now we have a story to ramble on about to our grandkids someday.

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