So, it is that time of year when I start to fill my head with pinterest projects that I will never complete. This year, Tony De promised me $1000 for completing my fabric ceiling, and another $1000 for paiting my ceiling fan. Although I know damn well my husband will not pay up as promised, I am one of those people that when you tell me I won't or can't do something, I am going to make damn sure that I do it. So, my pinterest-y friends, I need help. I am reposting my reasons why, but seriously, someone help me prove my husband wrong.

As you may have heard, I am attempting some home improvements. Since I do not possess one iota of creativity, I am perfectly content to steal other people's ideas. As I plagerize home remodeling ideas on Pinterest, I am struck by a few things:
1. These people have way to much free time. I am not sure how they are able to make a patio complete with an outdoor kitchen by using only sea glass found in the Northern Himalayas. These pins make me really question my time management abilities. "Sorry Macy, Mom can't drive you to swim as the new family car made from pipecleaners running off the remnants of the cat litter box is almost complete". The irony of the situation is not lost on me as I spend an enourmous amount of time on Pinterest wondering where these people get all of this free time...
2. The sole purpose of Pinterest is to make moms like me feel inferior. Sorry, but as much as I love my children, I am not making tangerine graduates for snack the last day of school. I need to make sure my children have something to talk about in therapy. Consider it my contribution towards keeping mental health workers employed.
3. Pinterest also makes me feel like a crappy housekeeper. I read these pins about cleaning hacks while realize that my refrigerator is growing mold similar to something out of Creepshow. How about a hack on destroying killer radioactive mold, or better yet, how about a maid people? That's my cleaning hack.
4. Now that we have mother and house keeper covered, my ability to produce creative and thoughtful gifts for grandparents is limited. I have tried a couple of the Pinterest projects for gifts, and they somehow always resemble a project that a detoxing crack addict produced in rehab during art therapy. I am sure my family appreciates my thoughtful gift cards.
5. According to Pinterest, in order to keep my marriage strong, my house should somehow resemble a suite at the Sybaris complete with a set date night and matching undergarments. In all reality, we have 5 minutes before the kids get into a fist fight or hot wax the dog again. Throw the laundry off the bed while I change into my sexy workout clothes.
6. Pinterest highlights my ADHD. My house is full of projects that I have started, but then deemed too difficult. The painters tape on the baseboards that has been there for 5 years is now considered decoration. This just proves that I am managerial material as opposed to a laborer.
7. The meals on this site are ridiculous. I do not own a hot dog slicer, it is called a knife in my house. Nor do I own an oreo dipper, that would be your hand. I also must admit that even with my frequent trips to Whole Foods and Marianos, I have yet to find this EVOO cold pressed by 15 virgin girls in the Swiss Alps that most of these recipes call for.
8. Seriously, I do not need a hack for sewing on a button in three easy steps. Jose at the dry cleaners will do it for $5.
9. I am still not sure why Pinterest feels the need to post my Pins on facebook. It is almost mocking me, announcing to the world "Ummm...look at how f'ing stupid Jess is being. She actually thinks she is going to do this. Let's all point and laugh".
10. Pinterest is like that perfect girl in high school that could do no wrong. It is a love hate relationship. As much as I enjoy admiring from afar, I am scared if I get too close, I will start to see the faults. Therefore, I should keep my relationship with Pinterest as a idealized one, and walk away while I still have an ounce of sanity.

To everyone who thinks my kid is an asshole-
Since Joe turned two, I have endured numerous complaints about my child as well as my parenting. Family and friends felt completely entitled to give me medical and parenting advice, "if you would just make him listen", "he is too wild, you need to tell him no", "or "he needs medication". We knew that Joe was hyperactive, we did not need anyone to point that out, we lived with it daily. As Joe got older, people felt more entitled to give medical and parenting advice, but our pediatrician felt that he was within the normal range and development. When I asked the pediatrician if he could use a dose of ritalin, she just laughed and said "If he has trouble in school, we will explore it". Joe started preschool at three, and his teachers loved him. I would get glowing reports, and Joe couldn't wait to get to school. It was around this time that we noticed that Joe was starting to get migraines. His enuresis had improved, but still occurred a couple of times a week. Joe would frequently have night terrors, sleep walk, and grind his teeth. He would wake in the middle of the night with growing pains so severe that he would lay in bed screaming until the motrin kicked in. When Joe started kindergarten, he teacher loved him. She would write notes home about how he would make her laugh daily. As a mom, those notes felt good. Finally, someone was able to see what Joe had to offer. He really is a funny kid. In first grade, his migraines increased. His migraines were so severe, he would lay on the floor holding his head screaming, until the medicine would kick in. Sometimes, he would vomit, and/or fall asleep immediately following an attack. During this time, his hyperactivity increased. The idea of ADHD was broached by the school, so I requested a 504 plan. His teacher said that the first grade work was too easy, and suggested moving his curriculum and giving him a done folder for differentiated work. We also provided sensory strategies for Joe to access at school. Around this time, I took Joe back to the pediatrician to discuss the migraines and hyperactivity. I really felt that all of the symptoms such as the enuresis, migraines, sleepwalking, etc. were all connected. I did not feel that Joe had ADHD, but that something else was going on. The pediatrician agreed, and ran some preliminary tests on Joe, nothing. This led to a plethora of medical appointments and testing with doctors. We saw a psychologist, neurologist, pulmonologist, allergist, developmental pediatrician, ENT and the list goes on. All had the same diagnosis after talking with my son for 5 minutes, ADHD. I started a strict regimen of supplements to see if the gaba, htp, omega 3, probiotic, cocktail that I created made a difference, but no. I then purchased supplements such as focus-saurus, no luck either. The issue was not his focus as he was performing extremely high academically, but the hyperactivity and impulsively were ever present. The start of second grade started out well, but we were still struggling. Joe's anxiety was increasing as he heard all of these negative comments about him. He became extremely clingy, and bed time was a nightmare. Putting Joe to bed has always been difficult. We would take a bath, read, and then I would lay in bed with him until he fell asleep. This bedtime routine would sometimes last 2 hours, leaving both Joe and myself extremely frustrated. While lying in bed, Joe would not stop moving. He couldn't get comfortable. I dreaded bedtime. This was compounded by the fact that he still had enuresis, night terrors, growing pains, teeth grinding, and sleep walking. Since I heard Joe wake up in the night most often, I was usually the one dragging my overtired, caffeine fueled ass to work the next day. During this time, Joe's migraines increased significantly as did his behavioral issues. I continued to hear comments about how I needed to parent better, or at least get that kid on meds. In October of 2014, I removed Joe's tonsils to see if sleep apnea was the cause of his symptoms (once sleep apnea is addressed the symptoms of ADHD decrease significantly). After putting him through such a painful experience, I was dismayed that the surgery did not impact his ADHD symptoms, but was relieved that the surgeon and staff noticed sleep apnea issues during surgery. At least, it was not done in vain. In November 2014, parent teacher conferences were held. When I arrived, his teacher informed me that According to his teacher, Joe was performing significantly higher than all of the kids in her class. She followed this up with the dreaded words " but your child's behavior is impacting his learning and the learning of others. I would talk to the doctor about medication". When I got home, I was sobbing, devastated that they day I had hoped to prevent has arrived. I did not want to medicate my child, nor did I feel that he had ADHD. I had trouble coming to terms with the fact that no one appreciated Joe's gentle nature, his eagerness to please, his creativity, or his amazing sense if humor. He was labeled ADHD, and that us how he would be viewed from now on. I was frustrated because none of the doctors would listen to me. They had their minds made up as soon as we walked in, and would become very upset that I declined the adderall, concerta, or ritalin prescriptions that they had written out. I still felt like I was missing something regarding all of this, but I put my big girl educator panties on and marched into school and demanded an IEP. I would be damned if a teacher would tell me how to medically treat my child. Once calm, the staff was able to convince me that an updated 504 plan would be best. We updated the 504 plan to include very specific sensory activities and a differentiated curriculum to match his skills. The teacher immediately started him in a 4th grade curriculum, and the OT was in the next day to do a sensory diet. The behavior improved, but not enough. It was in December 2014 that I finally decided to go to a child psychiatrist, Dr. Gutierrez from Loyola. I explained that I did not feel that he had ADHD, but he has been showing signs of anxiety. We did a trial of zoloft, it was horrible. Next we trialed Strattera which is an SSRI. He became Linda Blair on steroids. I was just waiting for his head to spin. Finally, after or 3rd visit, Dr. G said, "I think the migraines, enuresus, night terrors, growing pains, sleep walking, teeth grinding may all be connected. OMFG! I felt like I hit the jackpot. Finally, someone gets it. She then said "I think he has restless leg syndrome". She them moved on to how rls symptoms appear in kids, and how we could address it. She suggested a half tablet of Topamax daily. This would address the migraines as well as help him sleep at night. 6 weeks later, Joe has gone from 4 migraines migraines a week, to one in the past month. Every day he is coming home excited that he reached to top level of the class behavior system. His teacher reports that all of his hyperactive behaviors have dissipated. Knowing what I know now, pediatric migraines often have symptoms 24-48 hours befor the onset, including hyperactivity. Researching RLS, I learned that it is usually genetic. When reading the symptoms, I knew Joe inherited it from me. I have issues sleeping. I take ambien nightly just so I can get comfortable enough to sleep. I had severe growing pains and migraines as as a kid. I. Still grind my teeth, and will sleep walk without the ambien. I cannot sit through a movie because I have this constant itch to move. Guess what, Joe is just like me. To all of the people who feel I should be a better parent, or set a sleep hygiene schedule, medicate my kid for a disorder he does not have, or feel the need to tell my kid he is unlovable, annoying, or any if the above, f*c you, you are the asshole, not my child with a neurological condition. On a side note, always trust your maternal instincts. They are there for for a reason.

So I am at the age where I try to buy most things second hand because I have come to the realization that my kids are destructive little assholes. No matter what I buy, it will be trashed in a month, and the blame will be put on the dogs, the cat, or the invisible guinea pig that frequents our home (because the cat decided that hot waxing the dog was a good idea, and the guinea pig cut the screen and put my granny panties on the roof waving in the breeze like the frumpy suburban mom flag that they are). Because of my new found frugal way of life (or maybe just the fact that I have waved the white flag and surrendered), I frequently browse the resale groups on Facebook. Since I am a south side girl, I started joining Southside resale groups, only to broaden my searches to the southwestern suburbs, and then moving up to the western suburbs (let’s face it, anything north of 95th street is really the north side), and only to find that there is a huge cultural divide between Riverdale/South Holland, New Lenox and Hinsdale. I really do need to take a moment to extrapolate on these differences-
1. In the Hinsdale group on Friday, I noticed that someone was selling four (?!?!) pairs of dog boots, size 2. Ummm, where do I start with this? Why in the f* does your dog need shoes, let alone four pairs of designer boots. I have to say that I was somewhat jealous of this dog’s wardrobe. I am not sure if I even have four pairs of boots. Honestly, why does your dog need boots? Are you taking him hiking in the Himalayas, and are worried about frost bite, or is it just easier to give a dog a pedi if the feet are pampered? On a side note, I think I have washed my dogs (or at least sprayed them with the hose in the past 6 months) yay me!
2. Another item that I am completely confused by is a dog stroller. Unless your dog has a disability, you are an asshole if you put your dog in the stroller. At that point, you might as well find an outfit that matches the boots. Seriously, I kicked my kids out of the stroller at 12 months; there is no way in hell I am pushing a damn dog in a yuppie status symbol, just saying…
3. I also saw a dog house that I was seriously contemplating buying and making my summer home. This thing was huge, and really, we don’t need that much room…
4. What is with the birdhouses that are better decorated than my house? I guess in the western suburbs, the birds need a beach house complete with Adirondack chairs. In my next life, I am coming back as a Western Springs bird.
5. Regular objects take on different names in the western suburbs. What I refer to as a couch, now becomes a sofa. An oversized cabinet becomes a credenza. A pool chair becomes a lounger. You know you are straight ghetto when you need to look up the definition of a credenza.
6. Why Tory Burch? I see 50 pairs of Tory Burch flip flops for $150 each. Really people, Costco has flip flops for $12.99.
7. I see kids’ toys, jungle gyms, and slides in perfect condition. How is that possible? Is that how things work in the magical Western suburbs? Let me tell you, the plastic slide in our yard had the word “butthole” carved into it, and probably stained by the blood of most of the neighborhood kids. Maybe there is some west suburban trick for erasing blood stains that I am unaware of…..
8. I frequently see kids clothes listed as “worn five times, perfect condition, and no stains”. Really? That should earn you some type of motherhood award because I am sure that wrapping your kid in bubble wrap to keep them clean and safe must be exhausting. My kids on the other hand, “Mom, this is new? Let me roll in the mud with strawberries, and 5 sharpies to break it in”.
9. OK, why does a two year old have nine pair of pink frilly shoes? I am happy if my kid arrives at our destination with two shoes, they don’t even need to match. Most of the time, we get to the store only to realize he has no shoes, but if he had nine choices, maybe we would not need to make a Costco run in one work boot and one high heel, just sayin’…
10. OK, my last thing because I could probably go on forever. Why are people buying reselling expensive patio furniture? I see ads such as “purchased for $23,000 last year, lightly used. Asking $10, 000. If I had to represent my patio furniture in a for sale ad, it would say “purchased on Craigslist for cheap as hell last year, and just looking to get some of my money back. It has been set on fire only once, the fire department responded before any real injuries or physical damage. In an attempt to put out the fire, my son catapulted the chair into the pool. As of now, he is tied to the chair. Please call before you come so we can make sure we can loosen Joe’s chair straps 
11. No drugs or knock-offs in Hinsdale. Playing “real or knockoff” is the great American pastime, and we should really continue this tradition.

snow day...expectation vs. reality....
Expectation-everyone staying in matching pajamas all day, mom drinking a steaming cup of organic free trade coffee, kids sipping on homemake hot chocolate with gluten free marshmallows, cuddled up in blankets, watching movies with cookies in the oven (organic, paleo), while peacefully deciding which board game to play next.
Reality-
Child #2"What would happen if I cut off Macy's head?" Me "Can you wait until your father is home to do that? I don't want to clean up any more messes. Wtf, I'm tired of cleaning".

Child #1 &2 "You can't play that, it's mine." Me "Guess what, now it belongs to Goodwill. Didn't you learn anything about sharing over the holidays? Wtf?"

Child #1 "Mom, my stomach hurts. I think I am going to puke." Me "Wtf, shouldn't you be in the bathroom then?"

Child#2 "There is nothing to eat." Me "How about an apple? Banana? Applesauce? Protein shake? Veggies? A salad? Nuts? Other various paleo snack? Fine, f*ck it. Here is some bread and butter. Seriously, wtf?"

Child 1&2 "I'm bored". Me "I have chore I can assign. Bored, really wtf?"

Child #1"I need to go to 5 Below". Me "Great, let me just warm up my broomstick for a joyful ride to Orland in sub-artic temps because I have nothing else to do, wtf?"

Child #1 "Will you drive me and my friend to go meet some boys at school which is closed in sub zero temps?" Me "Ummm..sure, because I want to be a Grandmother at the ripe old age of 37. Do I look stupid. Wtf?"

Child #2 "Will you drive me to my friend's house that is a half a block away, to see if he can play? I don't like to walk." Me "WTF, just WTF?!?!".

Child #2 "My sister told me I look like a butthole?" Me "Well, do you look like a butthole? Wtf?"

There are only so many times that I can say WTF before I start drinking.

So I tried crossfit yoga the other day (which is like regular yoga, just a little more f'ed up), and here are my thoughts:
1. They really did find the whitest male narrator is the whole crossfit nation. It was kinda like listening to Casey Kasem explain how s&m works. 
 2. As I am holding these contortionist holds, Casey Kasem kept telling me to relax. Ummm...ok, my spine is being pulled out of my anus, but let me take a few moments to appreciate how relaxing this is, wtf?
3. Why do all of the poses have majestic sounding animal names likes soaring eagle and bearded dragon (or some shit like that)? How about naming these poses after what they really look like "drunken elephant falls into the watering hole" or "turtle knocked on his ass"? These name changes would really capture the whole yoga experience more effectively.
4. Why in the hell are we holding poses for 6 minutes?!?! I can't do anything for 6 minutes. I can't even sustain attention while driving on the expressway at 80 mph for six minutes, yet you want me to "relax" into the "smooshed cockroach" for 6 minutes?!?! What the hell is wrong with you people? I need some ritalin if I am going to do this shit again...
7. I think I pulled a vagina muscle.
8. During this freak show called crossfit yoga, the girl next to me said "you are so quiet, I thought you snuck out and left". Really ?!?! Trust me, if I could to get out of the "alley cat in heat pose" without assistance, I probably would have, but it would have sounded like a pissed off herd of water buffalo. There would be nothing silent or graceful about my exit.
9. What is with the music? I was waiting for Indiana Jones to burst through the door and rescue me from the Temple of F'ed Up Yoga.
10. I will say that the quasi "spa with a happy ending " music this week was way more relaxing then the "Cinemax at 3 am" sound track last week.
11. As Casey Kasum is telling me to relax into these 6 minutes Spanish Inquisition poses, he felt the need to say "it is ok if you fall asleep for a couple of minutes during these poses", ummm... yeah...that is like telling me to fall asleep during child birth. It would take an obscene amount of alcohol to "fall asleep" in the "possum hit by a train" pose. Seriously, I am not narcoleptic...
12. The narrator talked entirely too much. Obviously, by the sound of him, he would be the type of guy to talk all the way through a movie. Seriously dude, just shut up. I am trying not to die here, and if I do, I would rather have Tommy Chong narrate my death.
13. It really did take a ton of energy not to fall over. Everyone else is stretching peacefully into the "roly poly", and I am in my corner hoping not to fall on my face, and if I do, a plastic surgeon only.
14. Seriously, I am still sore. I can deadlift 265 pounds without pain, but I can't hold "the flying squirrel" for 30 seconds? 
 Needless to say, the next time I will be doing yoga is when my husband stuffs my dead body into a suitcase to dispose of it in Wolf Lake, just sayin'....

Because of a swim parent meeting, I had to miss crossfit, and instead have to run. Those of you who know me well, know I hate running. Here are 10 reasons why:

1. Running make everything jiggle. I do not need exercise to let me know that I need to firm up. That is what swimsuits are for.

2. Running makes everything hurt. When I run, my body hurts. My abs hurt. My butt hurts. My knees hurt. My feet hurt. My toes hurt. My pinky finger is starting to hurt just thinking about running.

3. Running is boring a hell. I think I would rather watch paint dry, or watch the Golden Girls, or watch the Golden Girls watching paint dry.

4. Running leaves me with my thoughts which causes me to realize how deranged, sick, and twisted I am really am. It is not a good feeling when your carefully constructed self concept is shattered by an idiotic masochistic past time such as running.

5. Clothes are not cute when you run. They run up, dig in, and become wet in places that were loosely covered when you left the house.

6. Running does not burn as many calories as one might think. Really, as sweaty as I am after running even for 20 minutes, I expect my jeans to slip right on, but no, they are as tight as ever. Seriously, what is the point? If I want to do something repeatedly for 20 minutes without an immediate payoff, I will just ask my kids to clean their room.

7. At 38 year old, I have learned to stop doing things I am not good at including running, baking, cleaning, and parenting. Seriously, at this stage of the game, what are the chances that I will improve upon these skills? I may as well give up and continue on with things I know I am good at such as sarcasm, giving orders, and looking busy.

8. Running makes your lungs feel like they are on fire. The only other time my lungs have felt that way was a life or death situation, so this must be Mother Nature's way of giving me a sign that running is just not healthy.

9. I can honestly say I have never seen anyone smile while running. Biking, swimming, sprinting, lifting, and jumping yes, running no, therefore I have decided that the sport is only for crabby people. Since I have decided to follow the road to happiness in my life, I cannot engage in such a negative and unhappy activity ; )

10. Running is dangerous for people with limited attention spans such as myself. Sprinting is great for us, running, not so much. I am distracted by a rock, a bird, a worm, a car, a jogger, hell, an airplane is enough for me to lose focus. I am not even sure that there is enough ritalin to keep me on task during a run, or if there is, if that would be safe for other runners.

Needless to say, I would rather gnaw off my own foot than run. Fml...