“Twitter? What is that?”

“It’s social media.  Like Facebook”

Considering I wasn’t on Facebook, that didn’t really help me.  Twitter just sounded cooler than Facebook, so that night I set up an account.

Hmm.  I wonder if he regrets suggesting that to me?

It was love at the first 140.

For the first year, I tweeted to myself.

I didn’t know what the @ button was.  I never checked it.  I just kept plugging away with my 140 thoughts and noticed that I had a few followers.

One day I decided to click that “@” thing and noticed that people were tweeting TO me.  Like conversation.

OH!  NOW IT GET IT.

Through new found conversation, people on twitter kept asking where my blog was.

This was hilarious to me.  A)  I don’t write.  B) I got a C in college English 103.

That combo didn’t exactly scream “Put paragraphs together!”

After some encouragement from people, many listed here, I would try this blog thing.

And that brings me to today.

Tonight I will stand on a stage to read words that I put together.

Words that would have never been put together without her.

Words that didn’t exist before my rambling daily 140’s.

Words that continued on this blog of mine that you may read.

Words that are possible for me to share because Ann Imig created the Listen to your Mother show.

Three years ago, there was no way I would have seen this in my future.

The love, support, and words of encouragement have been overwhelming.

And it’s amazing.

Thank You.

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And a special thank you to the producers Melisa, Tracey, and the cast who each are beyond amazing.

My show spotlight here

I’m not those either.

I just don’t care.    This isn’t to say that I dress in rags.  I buy what I wear and not more.  I have one pair of jeans.  I have one pair of shoes that I wear daily.  I have one purse, and it’s not a designer one.

I’m sort of minimalist when it comes to clothes.

This is great until I have an event where I need to have something more than a t-shirt and jeans.

This scenario led me to the mall.

On a Saturday.

Now, I’m no professional writer, but I can tell you that if you are lacking in blogging material?  Head to your nearest mall on the weekend.

First up was something to wear.  If I’m not a clothes shopper first?  You should know I’m not a dress wearer second.

I don’t know if it’s because I’m tall but the only dresses I like on myself are full length.  Anything shorter and I feel like a troll.

So I found a pants, shirt, and cardigan combo.  Up next?  A bra.

Mine had become, let’s say, unsupportive of my decision to have them higher than my navel.

I head to Victoria’s secret.

As I walk in, I notice it’s crowded.

I make my way through the crowds to the wall where the bras are hanging.

I notice that only 32 B’s are hanging in every style.

I also notice that they have names such as “The Showstopper” the “Bombshell” and “Incredible.”

I briefly look down and wonder which category I need.  I’m thinking “The Showstopper” means something different than me taking off my shirt and the curtain falls.

I turn and notice the long line to try on the bras.  As I do, a young 20-ish woman asks if I need help.

My first thoughts are “well, there’s no way SHE’s going to measure what I’ve got going on in here, and it’s a Bombsomething, all right. “

Me: Um..I’m not sure.  The line looks really long.

Her: Oh, it’s not really that long.  A lot of girls bring their friends to try bras on with so the line is probably only half girls trying on.

Me: You mean like a boob buddy?

I can safely say that that young woman was not prepared for my remarks.

She replied with silence and backed away slowly.

I look around a little more but was unable to find the bra called “Miracles Can Happen” or “Almost a Boob Lift.”

I decide that Victoria has let the secret out and the secret is that my boobs are no longer in the same category as most of their child free clientele looking to buy pretty bra’s with clementines on them.

I leave.

I stop at the mall directory and see a Cacique.  I decide to try there.

I walk in and it’s empty.

I’m greeted by two women with a “Hi”

“Oh, hi, I just left Victoria’s secret because my boobs are now old, saggy, and lopsided and I don’t think they can address those issues for me anymore”

One girl walks away to hide. (Probably not because of me)

The other girl says “And it’s nice to meet you too”

Her name was Amy.  Amy asks to measure me.

“Lift” she says.

“It’s that obvious huh?”

We make some small talk and then remarks that she thought I was 34.

“And THAT’S HOW YOU SELL 5 BRA’S AMY”

She gives me the size and we go to their wall.  Though this time the names are different.

“T-Shirt Bra”  “Passion” and “Balconette”

Balconette is a polite way of saying “We know your boobs are in the basement and we’re here to put them back on the balcony”

Helpful bras.

Not bra’s trying to get me to second base.   Cause honey?  It’s not that exciting.

She hands me two different styles and I try them on.

The first one was a lower cut one.  I try it on and it was like OH HELLO THERE.

Except my right boob was all sorts of spilling out of it.

The left was fine.

I show her and she says, um, yeah.  I can see it  popping up.

I said “Yeah, it’s like a turtle head coming out for a snack”

She agrees and I try on the next style.

And it works.

No turtle head, no side bulge, no chin rests.   So I buy 3 and thank Amy for her help.

And if you come see me in the show next weekend?

Try not to stare.

They look fantastic.

That’s half my life people.

When we met we were both in college.  I had a job, he didn’t.  He was in the army so while he was in (public) school, he got his tuition paid and received a monthly stipend for expenses.

On our first date, I insisted on paying my part of the bill.  No man was going to try and “buy me” with a dinner.  As we continued dating, I paid, he paid, and we split paying for things.  The money, though not plentiful, just worked out.

Once he went to a private college, his tuition was NOT paid for.  I continued to work and would pitch in when he needed stuff.  I remember going to the grocery store with my nightly earnings (wow that makes me sound like I worked the pole) and buying him food.

Fast forward a few years and we were moving in together.  We decided the only way we were going to be able to make it work was pooling our money together.   He put my credit card debt on his credit card (he had a better interest rate) and I contributed my meager savings with his.  We were doing this.  Together.  Teamwork Mothereffers.

Wow, that year sucked.  We were dirt poor.  I remember our rent being $545 for a 2 bedroom place.  I worked in a restaurant and he tutored.  Some months when my tips were lower or he had many cancellations, we would have to put groceries on a credit card.   But together, we did it.

(Insert years of getting better jobs, a new cockroach free apartment, paying for our own wedding and finally buying a house together)

When I became pregnant, there was no plan.  Besides the obvious.  We KNEW there was going to be a baby in 9 months but preparing for it?  We did none.  I guess we both assumed that I would go back to work.  We never once even talked about what would happen with the baby while I was at work.  We didn’t once even look into options or costs.  Denial River was wide.

And then he was born.

I enjoyed being home with my new baby.  I was breastfeeding and didn’t realize how that might affect me going back to work.

I guess I’ll go back once he weans, I thought.

And then my husband started traveling more for work.

I guess I’ll go back once my husband’s schedule isn’t so all over the country, I thought.

And NINE years and another child later?  I’m still here.

Um, people?   What the hell happened?

I’ve been home for 9 years not making a damn cent and I have the social security statements laughing at me to prove it.

But do I feel guilty?  Hell no.

Does this extra responsibility on my husband cause stress?  Well.  Yes.

In our house, we’ve always HAD to have our money together.  I’ve helped him out, or he’s helped me out.  But it was US supporting each other.

Ok. But none of that is my point really.   So stay with me for a moment.

I was at a school fundraiser event last night and struck up a conversation with a woman (A) who also happens to be a stay at home mom.   At some point she mentioned how since her husband makes the money she would feel guilty spending it on X or Y.

My mind?  Blown.

Now, on the other hand, I have friends (B) who work, are married with families, and who keep separate accounts.  They have the bills divided between them.

Again, WOW.

I am NOT judging what might work for family A or B.

But here’s my thing.

Woman A feels guilty because she stays home and doesn’t make the money of the household.  She may really debate buying something because it’s not her money.  She may also NOT buy things because of this guilt too.

Does woman B feel that way?  Do working moms ever have the guilt of spending money even though they work?  Do they feel MORE justified to spend money because they DO work?

Just because I’m home with children doesn’t give me free reign to spend OUR on anything I want.  But am I going to debate whether or not I buy that 6 foot skeleton for Halloween?

SNORT.

::Grabs 2::

Who cares right?  Well.  I do.  Consider this my online garden journal.

Besides, you might see something you like so I’m going to go ahead and provide links to them as well.   That’s for you.  Because I care about your garden.  Unless it’s full of weeds, then I’m out.

Since the gardens are still pretty scarce you’re getting individual flowers this week.  As the season progresses, I’ll take more full garden pictures.

1) Tulip- Don Quichotte  2) Ajuga- Chocolate Chip  3) Perennial Geranium- Crainsbill  4) Grape Hyacinth  5) Daffodil- tete a tete  6) Iris  7) Pulmonaria- Raspberry Splash  8) Lilac bush

Painting tips

Cooking tips

Decorating tips

It got me thinking.  Hey, I GOT TIPS.

Tip one, if you don’t garden or like to garden, use the back arrow right about now.

Here are some of my gardening tips for you.  These are the only ones I could think of today.  Let’s try not to be blown away by my creativity and genius.  It’s still early in the season.

 I Clean in Spring

If you’re like me, you’re way too busy in the fall to be cleaning up your garden.  Priorities people.  So I leave it until the spring time.  I’m itching to enjoy the weather anyways so it’s fine with me.  Until I have to deal with these beasts.  No fear though.  I grab my electric hedge clippers and I’ve got those suckers down in no time.

First, I tie a string around the whole thing.  I tie it pretty snug.  Next using my electric hedge clippers, I cut along the bottom.  Voila.  Now the whole thing can be taken away and it’s already bundled for you.

Rabbits are A**holes

If there’s one thing that really annoys me, it’s paying $10 for a plant just to feed thumper (s) lunch.  For the past few years I have been trying to figure out how I can get the coyotes to come to my yard to take care of them.  It only worked once.   And even then they left many parts laying around.  Messy eaters, those coyotes are.

So I put up my next defense, barriers.   I have learned that there are a few plants that rabbits will eat no matter what you do.  I stopped planting them years ago.  Sorry, daisy, liatris and dianthus.  I have also learned that rabbits will sometimes just eat the new growth in the spring but once the plants grow some, they leave them alone.  The baby stage, let’s say.  So, like any good mother I’ve come up with many ways to protect my babies until they are big enough to fend for themselves.

From Left I’m protecting:

1) Fragrant Bouquet Hosta shoots

2) Coral Bells, Frosted Violet

3) Coral Bells, Purple palace

You can see here how I used natural materials as a barrier.  I do all my garden clean up in the spring.  As I cut down the debris, I’ll use branches to lay over neighboring flowers that the rabbits tend to eat as they grow out of the ground.  The branches allow air, sun, and water to get through while being just annoying enough to the rabbits that they don’t bother even trying.

From Left:

1) Coral Bells, Creme brulee

2) Phlox

3) Coral Bells, Creme brulee

Sense a trend here?  Yeah. Me too.  Rabbits love the spring coral bells but as soon as they’re fully leafed out, they don’t bother them.  In these photos, I am using other methods of protecting my plants.  In the left, you might have to look closely, but I use bird netting.  I have a row of 10 coral bells that I cut a length of the netting and lay it over the whole row.   In the 2nd photo I have a thicker netting in the background and I used a trellis over a plant in front.  In the last photo, I actually used the frame of a hanging basket from last year over the plant.  That plant is almost fully leafed out and then I can remove the barrier.

What the Mulch

Last year I ordered 9 yards of loose mulch.  You probably have no idea what that means, but people?  It’s a lot.  Some people use a wheel barrel to move it all and I have done that too.  I have a sloped backyard so it gets awkward to handle a wheel barrel back there.  I use this instead:

Yes, that’s a snow sled.  I get about a good 4 shovel fulls onto that and just slide my sled all over the yard.  I have also used it for bags of mulch.  Using the sleds also allows the kids to help.  As they should.

But that’s not the only thing I use the sleds for.  I buy a lot of flowers every year.  Once I get them home, I have a mix of pots large and small, flats, and single flowers.  I plant on all 4 sides of my house.  Flowers not only need to be carried to their final destination but they also need to be watered in the interim time until they get to their home.

Not only do the flower filled sleds work perfectly for getting them around the yard, if I don’t get to planting them that day?  I just fill the sled up with an inch or two of water and they can sit there until I am ready to plant them.

So there.  Those are my tips.   Now, get gardening.

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I tweet gardening at @HoeInTheGarden during this time of year.  Just like me but with more Hoes and Dirt.