A Good Egg

I mentioned in my previous post that a beautiful person in my life, my Mom, was recently diagnosed with aggressive stage three breast cancer.  While I’m not going to give very much attention on here to this topic [because cancer sucks and doesn’t even deserve the single mention I just gave it] I do want to honor my Mom.  In fact, this honoring is going to continue well into May and Mother’s Day.  So Mom, sorry but you’ll just have to deal with the attention.

Things have not been easy these last several months for our family.  When one member is hurting, the entire family unit hurts.  But true to our nature we try to heal the hurt with humor.

It all began with a head shaving party lead by her son-in-law, Mr. Pavlov.

Dear Lord what am I doing?!? Remember, I’ve been a good Mother-in-law….

OY VEY! Deep breaths….

Serious work

Offering support. Don’t worry Mimi, that ear will grow back besides, you have two.

The incredibly happy look and large smile worn by Mr. Pavlov is concerning.

So who knew that there’s this whole show-your-support-and-shave-your-non-cancer-head thing that people do?  My daughter and I, who are descendants of Rapunzel (I’m convinced of this fact) began to get twitchy over the nobel notion.  Just as we were about to make the huge sacrifice of losing an inch or two (I mean  an entire inch…that counts for something!) these beautiful people decided to go full blown commando shaven.

These two are pretty super and just incase you didn’t know…this is actually the real Superman.

Two strong women

    

It seems certain members of our tribe have developed a fondness for her numerous wigs. With each new wig comes the “ooooo” and “Ahhhh” and of course the mandatory sampling of the goods. Test driving the wig starts by yanking it off of her cute, bald head, running to the nearest mirror and usually ends in front of a camera phone. Yes, we are deplorable and social media rules.

Sometimes you gotta strike a pose, vogue and steal your Mimi’s wig

The wig knows no gender….

And when she finally lost her eyebrows we, of very-little-eyebrow-drawing-on- experience, were there to hook her up with brows.  Hey, that’s what family is for right?

She’s very trusting….wonder if she prefers The Joker or Spock?

Life has a way of throwing surprise parties and when it does you want to surround yourself with people who really know you and will support you.  People who not only say, “I’m here for you during the good, the bad, the ugly” but also who back up their talk (which can be so meaningless) with hard core action.

My dad is the Arnold Schwarzenegger of action.  He has been like a mother hen caring for his chick during this nasty ordeal.  Anyone who knows my Mom quickly realizes that he has his work cut out for him.  The “chick” is strong, determined and independent.  Rest or taking it easy is not something that comes naturally to her.  She created the term “burning the candle at both ends” and goes until she can go no more.

Yet another Chemo day and Dad is never far away.

Valentine’s Day is not ruined by Chemo day and fatigue thanks to Dad.

And when she finally crashes, he is there as he said he would be.  These are the people you want in your corner when the battle rages.

Talk is cheap. Words are just words unless they are backed up.  Sadly, people disappoint.  I’ve had my share of disappointments recently and it is the sucky behavior people throw at you that causes you to truly appreciate and value the good eggs in your life.

Two of my favorite eggs. My brother always did look more like her!

And I’m holding onto mine a little tighter….

I love you Mom!

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The friendless loser and the pimps.

My daughter and I were engaging in some retail therapy recently when she asked me a weighted question.

“Mom, would you rather have a ton of friends that are insincere and secretly hate you or be a friendless loser.”

I think I recall hearing this question posed on a TV show before.  I didn’t want to brush her off with a half-hearted answer (because I could tell that she really wanted some earth shattering stuff from me) so I pondered my response for a moment.  While I was pondering away, I overheard two women talking about their blogs and I paused longer than normal for my aging brain cells.  Taking the opportunity presented to her, my daughter took off to drool over the newest item of distraction.  Earth shattering stuff from Mom could obviously wait.

Ok, now I don’t know why or how but for some reason I just stumble upon situations that expose me to entertaining episodes or conversations.  I’ve had friends laugh at my ability to attract amusing situations and I often joke about my various mutant powers.  I think bionic hearing (a.k.a. eavesdropping) is a mad mutant skill (not necessarily of the power status – yet) that I possess.  For actual reals.  Just check out The cool moms and I’m not perfect but pretty darn close.  Really.  Check them out.  It happens.

The blogging babes were discussing and comparing their various methods of blog pimping – I think “blog pimping” was even their exact phrase.  They had my full attention (although I never made eye contact) and I semi creeperishily lingered by fondling every single bottle of the 100+ display of nail polish (my engrossed shopper disguise).  Hey, a girl can never be too choosy with what she puts on her nails right? Only….one look at my nails would surely blow my cover.  They don’t exactly emit the choosy vibe but rather scream a pathetic For the love of mankind, just cover me in something woman!!

Thankfully the blogging babes were too enthralled in their pimping conversation to notice the sketchy individual molesting the bottles of polish beside them.  Because I had to hide my surprise at the information I was overhearing (I’m not like Lady Gaga and cannot pull off her P-p-p-poker Face), I reached for some aviators and a scarf.  Sketchy officially turned celebrity bad disguise weird. No, (blushing) I’m not a celebrity.  The weird is open for debate.

What prompted the possibly weird need for masking of the facial expressions?  The blogging duo communicated a well thought out, systematic (ahem, manipulative) approach to blogging.  They even mentioned articles that they read on how to pimp your blog.  I’m only listing 10 of the cold hard facts that they discussed.  Here we go:

1. Troll other blogs and leave comments whether you feel it (as in the blog and blogger) or not in the hopes of baiting them into visiting your blog.
2. Obtain a religious following by inferior (their exact word) bloggers  who took the bait and now are drinking your blog’s Kool-Aid. But remember, Pimps don’t drink the Kool-Aid.
3. Routinely leave comments on the blogs of individuals who have the potential to scratch your back.
4. Be willing to sing blog praises to the scratching back bloggers whether you mean them or not.
5. Seldom leave comments or acknowledge a blogger (who may write decently but doesn’t have much to offer you) – Yes they said this – remember they are going for inferior Kool-Aid drinkers or high power back scratchers.
6. Be a butt kisser.  Whatever it takes cuz after all, they’re pimping (their words).
7. Laugh at other blogs and not in a “haha, hahah that cracked me up YouAreSoooFUNNY” way.  But in an “omigosh you are so pitiful that it is laughable” way.
8. Don’t read the entire blog entry but just skim out enough to make it seem like you did.  How?  They just happened to discuss this. Comment on certain points and even copy and past from the original entry (that you only skimmed) to appear as if you read the entire entry.
9. Establish an inner blog sanctum or clique and keep outsiders out unless of course, they are Kool-Aid drinkers, butt kissers or have something to offer.
10. Crush the competition…appearently there is blogger competition.

Ok.  I am still at a loss for words and have a bad taste in my blogging mouth.  Do bloggers really do this?  Was I that naive to think they didn’t?  Mmmhmm, I was.

I am guilty of some of their above 10 pimping points.  You see, I visit sites (that I enjoy).  I leave comments (that I mean).  I copy and paste (from entries that I actually read).  That’s where it stops.  I never look at visits to other blogs as a way to boost my own blog’s stats.  I write what I write and if other bloggers stop by well then I am happy to meet them!  I truly love people stopping by but I do not use them for my own gain.  There are no hidden motives or agendas here.

I don’t kiss butt.  I never cared much for the emotional aftertaste.  Insincerity causes me to hurl – chunks.  If I leave a comment or make repeat visits it’s because I really feel a connection with the blog/writer.  I’d even subscribe to my favorites if I knew how (yep, imma loser with a Capital L). And while we’re on it….what is RSS feed??!? Many days around here my nostrils are barely above the rising waters of life.  My time is limited and pimp is not one of the hats I wear.

I thought about asking them their suggestions of how a social blogger like myself (with all of my 50ish twitter followers) could sincerely promote other bloggers. But then I realized that I would most definitely fall into their pitiful, back scratcher challenged, laughable category and they would laugh.  Right there. In my face. And offer me a glass of Kool-Aid while they scratched each others back.

Competition?  What’s that?

Blog clique?  Really?  I already graduated from highschool.  All characters are welcome here.

Kool-Aid? Grape is my favorite so if you’re serving I just may have a sip, but only one.

Inferior?  Puhleeze!  We are all inferior.

Scratch my back?  Well, that’s not why I stopped by but, if you insist.  A little to the left, up, down, over, right…..ahhhh, thanks.

Laugh at other bloggers?  Yes I do – when they write something super funny.  I have been known to spew tea (I’m a tea addict) across my computer and urinary dribble (not on the computer) on multiple ocasions.  Laugh because they are pitiful? Who defines pitiful?  What is pitiful? We are all pitiful…I was molesting nail polish while exercising cranial nerve VII (pulling off some great auditory stalking) in an aviators and scarf disguise.  Pitiful.  Go ahead, laugh. It’s ok.

Seriously.  I am beyond disappointed with this newly discovered information.  So tell me, how do you guys feel?  I think it safe to assume that those of you who stop by do so because you kinda like it here.  I mean, I’m not serving Kool-Aid (not even grape) and I don’t own a back scratcher.

Please tell me these pimps were high on their own scratch-and-sniff and that this behavior is NOT the blogging norm. It isn’t…right?!?

My daughter returned and said “Cool scarf and aviators.  And I like the black polish. Can we get them all?”

Without blinking, pausing or brain cell stalling I replied to her (in earth shattering decibles), “FRIENDLESS LOSER! ”  

I’d rather be a sincere friendless loser any day and it hasn’t hurt my daily blog stats that much either….all 12 of them.

It’s ok.  You can laugh.

Motherhood: it’s spelled that way for a reason

My son, dos, recently watched a show about gangs, their history and the hand signs they use.  This, of course, caused a fascination with gang hand signs and he began to throw down the bloods, crips and west side like a true gang member.  The throw down occurred in the privacy of our four walls so I did not feel any need to prevent the charades.  Plus it doesn’t help matters that certain family members appear to amuse themselves with gang signs.

Mr. Pavlov and my cuz throwin' down some version of West Side.

Of course dos’s throw down preoccupation did not escape the all observing eye of tres.  Like the sponge that he is, he utilized his super absorbent powers to perfect each sign.

The next day while uno, dos, tres and I were waking through a city parking lot, tres decided he would throw down to random people.  He began with the sign for the bloods and continued with whatever signs for who knows how long before uno spotted the finger action.  Then the scenario went something like this:

Uno “Stop that you’re going to get us killed!”

Tres ignores the request  and continues throwing down

Uno “MOM, make him stop!  You can’t throw signs in public!  You will get us shot! They kill over those signs”

Tres persists with the [now] over exaggerated hand signs while giggling and effectively dodging her grasp   

Uno: a slew of insulting adjectives then “MAAAUUM, he won’t stop!  Stop it NOW!” looking at dos “See what you did…help me get him!”

Screaming and wails ensue as dos joins in pursuit of tres, who is quickly caught and overpowered. 

Tres “waaaaha, oowww, let me go!  MOM, help me….pleeeeasee, oh pleeaase…for the love of God, help me!”

Tres agrees (in the spirit of anatomical preservation) to stop throwing down and the older two release him from the death grip.  They prolong the event longer than my distracted nerves permit and argue back and forth…each one trying to get in the final word.  I believe there was blame, anger, insults, shoving and maybe a death threat or two….

Welcome to my hood.