Gene Autry was known to wear Easter bonnets.

Okay not Gene Autry.  But you get where I am going with this.  We have decided to boycott the Bunny since 13 year old is still dragging out Santa and my pocketbook refuses to buy anymore crap.  Seriously, my wallet bitch-slapped me at Wal-Mart and told me "NO MORE CRAP!"  It was thrilling.

Wishing you and yours a Happy Easter.  My frig smells like hard boiled eggs and Ladies and Gentleman, that's not a good thing.  Farts and green grass to you.  Right now, it's snowing!  Ugh, oy, and you gotta be f__ing kiddin' me!

Our "staycation" has turned into a "suckation."

It's Spring Break here in Park City.  Most of our friends have headed to warmer, more tropical locales.  We are stuck here.  As part of my Snowmama gig, I am given a 5 day stay at the Park City Mountain Resort.  So for Spring Break, we decided on a "staycation."  The resort has extended it's season by a week so we are skiing for our break.  Well, only 4 of are skiing.

We arrived on Monday afternoon, very excited.  We are staying at the Silver Star condos.  They are luxurious.  There is a ski lift right out the door, pool, hot tub, gorgeous kitchen and condo accomodations.  Well, it turns out the lift out the door is not running anymore and the pool is closed too.  Uh, not a great way to start.


The boys were totally excited about the bunkbeds in their room.  Ladycakes has her own king size bed and private bathroom.  Awesome.  The kitchen has high end appliances that Mr. Handsome couldn't wait to get cooking on.  I must admit, I felt quite proud I could provide this mini-getaway for my family.

We had a lovely dinner on Monday evening and the kids hot tubbed and watched a movie.  Mr. Handsome and I hung out by the fireplace watching t.v.  Bedtime came along and I went in to tuck pj'd and teethbrushed boys.  I climbed up the bunkbed ladder to tuck Elvis in and in a matter of seconds the ladder was no longer under my feet.  I could feel myself falling backwards and grabbing for the rail but not making a connection.

Suddenly I felt myself crashing into the other bunk bed's ladder with my back and then bouncing from there to edge of the lower bunk.  All the while yelling, "HELP!"  I landed on my side on the floor with a horrible sharp pain in my lower back.  I couldn't move.   Mr. Handsome came running.  The boys, both shocked, were staring down at me from the top bunks.  I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.  It felt like I had broken my pelvis.

I spent yesterday at the ER being X-rayed and questioned.  No breaks, just really bad bruising, some muscle damage and some pain meds and muscle relaxers in hand.  Great friends came to our rescue to watch children while Mr. Handsome and I racked up charges at the hospital.  Then they came for dinner and provide the entertainment that we needed.  Even though I'm not very fun when I can't really move, they hung out.  We love our friends.

I can't ski.  I'm pissed.  My staycation sucks.  I'm sad.  I sent the family out today, to ski.  I am sitting in my luxury condo questioning it all.

Ugh.

PUMP. Please Understand My Pituation.

I mentioned that I wanted to discuss "stuff."  The accumulation of goods,  from clothing to toys to lamps to craft supplies.  Just stuff.  Here at the hive, we have a lot of stuff.  It seems to grow.  Stuffed animals are procreating in closets.  The sock draw is a hot bed of sock love.  A virtual swingers club for socks where I am noticing most couples end up single.

When I had the realization that a lot of my stuff is bringing me down, we had a sign.  A sign from the heavens.  Actually a sign from our gutters.  As Mr. Handsome headed down into our crawlspace to store just a little more "stuff,"  he stepped into 3 inches of water.  3 inches of water that is sitting atop plastic sheeting and then good old fashioned mud.  It's ugly.  It's messy.  It's not life threatening, but it's super annoying.




So this minor inconvenience got me thinking even more about stuff.  As I am pulling up pillows that I have been saving (why?)  frames that I've been saving (why?)  gift boxes I've been saving (why?)  I wonder why is it so hard to let go of stuff and why do we accumulate it?  I know there are reality shows out there that look into this.  I am not a hoarder.  But I am an average American.  There are 3 families (ours included) on our street that have a garage sale EVERY summer.  That is not okay.

I  have decided to work on what I purchase.  I am sick of buying junk.  I am going more high brow.  I want to buy things that I plan on having for a long time.  If I can't afford it now, I will wait until I can.  No longer substituting with something crappy just to fill a void, in other words stop hanging out at TJ Maxx or Walmart.   I think it will make my body feel lighter.  It will make my brain feel clearer.  It will make my house feel happier.  It will make my world feel healthier.



Now, off to use the pump I just bought from Home Depot.  Luckily this purchase is something we will have for a long time, hopefully we will only have to store it in the crawlspace with only a little  other stuff and it will be one of those purchases we never use but are so glad we made it.





Add "Pump up the Jam" by Technotronics to my Life Soundtrack because according to my friend Cal  "That's so you!"  Wow. and I know.

Change is what keeps us constantly striving to be more than we were before. Gettin' deep and not by going off the deep-end.

It's Spring here and I know because it's continuing to snow.  I have Spring Fever for sure and at the same time feel very stuck.  I've been feeling this way for awhile now.  And that rut, it just keeps getting deeper or I keep getting shorter and therefore it feels like there is no way out.  I do the same thing EVERY DAY.  Seriously, it really doesn't change.  I love routine but this has become torture.  I've decided to put it out there and maybe it will force me to make a change.

So with change in mind, I'd like to discuss a few things with you.  One topic at a time.  The first change I intend to make is regarding my body.  You guessed it,


I'M GETTING A BOOB JOB!

kidding.

As a person who is considered a cancer survivor, you would think I would have a real interest in my body.  Sheryl Crow wrote a cookbook because, as a cancer survivor, she realized she needed to consider how everything affects your body and your health.  People on a daily basis make lifestyle changes (green cleaning products for example)  for the sake of their health and well being.  I'm not like most people,  I instead have been secretly and subconsciously conducting my own form of warfare on the very body that I should be treating like a temple.

I eat poorly.  Not that I have twinkies for breakfast and McDonald's for lunch and then popcorn and beer for dinner, but I don't give a lot of thought to what it is I am shoving into my mouth.  I rarely consider portions, where my food came from, trying new things or eliminating things that probably aren't making me feel my best.

I do not speak kindly to or about my body.  Of course, a lot of the time I am just looking for a laugh.  But, if you say something enough you start to believe it.  I have a 13 year old daughter.  The LAST thing I should be doing is judging my body and only talking about what I feel is "wrong" with it.  Isn't that basic parenting 101?

I don't treat my body nicely.  I do take it out for a walk in the morning but that's only because the dogs can't walk themselves.  I do get out and enjoy the great outdoors but only if I'm guaranteed a beer afterwards.  I need to find something I like to do that gets my heart rate up and make it a part of my daily life.

Now, I know this can't happen overnight.  And, I know that I am only human and I won't always make the right choices.  But, thinking about it, saying it and then giving it the ol' college try can't hurt.

Another day we will be discussing "stuff."  Yes, "stuff."  The keeping, buying, storing, constant rearranging of and general downer that it brings.

Til then I'm off to eat a bowl of ice-cream and down it with a margarita.   Again, kidding.