Did your mom make you fat?

A recent study published in this weeks Pediatrics finds that weak emotional bonds between mothers and their girl toddlers increased the chances of the little girls becoming obese in their teens. The study concluded that those girls become emotional eaters and it encourages mothers to strengthen the bond with their daughters. While I like that the study encourages mothers to be more connected with their daughters, I just don't agree with the findings. For one thing, the study should look further into relationships those scale-tipping girls have with their grandparents, especially their grandmothers. If the mother is robbing her daughter of weekend pedicure trips and matching outfits, chances are the daughter is closer to the grandmother. The word 'grandmother' is synonymous with 'secret recipe chocolate cake', 'worlds best cassorole', 'corn muffins', and 'apple pie'. No one can leave their grandmother's house with their jeans buttoned because grandmothers will feed you and feed you more until you beg them to stop. They mean well and they are only doing it because you have been neglected by your own mother, but they can't see that the excessive gross amounts of food they are pushing is the reason cities like San Francisco are banning toys from happy meals. The bottom line is this: when mothers neglect their daughters, the daughters will seek that relationship with their grandmothers and grandmothers are food pushers.
Another reason could be that parents are afraid to tell their teen daughter that she really doesn't need to eat that burrito at ten o'clock at night for the fear of their daughter developing anorexia or having to answer 'yes' to the dreaded question of '...you think I am too fat, don't you???'
Instead of tiptoeing around the issue of obesity with teen girls, perhaps they should be reminded of the health problems associated with eating too little and eating too much. Both which can result in death. Yes, use the word 'death'. Being obese or anorexic limits choices of boyfriends as well. It means you will only be dated by men who need you for money or a greencard. It also limits your choices of clothing. Too skinny and you'll have to buy your clothes at places that sell cloth pipe covers. Too fat, well, stores are selling clothes large enough to cover a car, but they will still be stuck with that loser boyfriend.

Cats and Dogs

Why is it that women who live alone with 3 cats are considered to be loners who collect flowery things and know way too much about the history of Polka music? But woman who live alone with 3 dogs are considered to be athletic with short hair and shop at Eddie Bauer? A man who lives alone with 3 cats has mommy issues and has never had a girlfriend. A man who lives with 3 dogs probably has all his hair, but can stay in a romantic relationship for only 4 months. A woman who owns a snake also has many tattoos and piercings that get infected from time to time. She also has short black hair. A man who owns a snake probably never washes his jeans and talks too much. A woman who owns a rabbit or a hamster has been off Prozac for about a year and talks like a robot in their voice mail greeting. A man who owns a rabbit is probably a gourmet cook with anger issues. A man or a woman who owns more than 4 house animals has no sense of smell and not many friends. A man or a woman who owns a wild exotic animal will always be declined for a life insurance policy.
Anyone who owns a beta fish is lazy and probably lives in a deplorable living condition. If you own a horse, you are probably in the upper tax bracket.
These are my uneducated conclusions and if they bother you, then you need to lose your flowery trinket collection or clean your piercings with alcohol.

I Bite My Nails

If you are the 1 in 7.876 folks who has this disgusting habit then you can understand. I bite my nails when I get anxious, like when I am lost in my car or late for an appointment. But most of the time, I bite my nails for pure pleasure. To me, it's like peeling sunburned skin or popping a ripe zit. It satisfies a part of my brain that no narcotic drug can reach. It makes me feel like a dictator and my nails are little minions subjected to my constant torture and abuse. I know...my nails are part of me and I should be more compassionate. I am. When I wake up the next day and look at my disgusting, red, bitten down finger nails, I feel alot of remorse. Mostly for the innocent folks who have to look at it.
So I am happy to report that I have found a product that not only makes my nails stronger, but it also makes the polish last longer (wow...that rhymes). Basically, when my nails look good, I don't bite it. I leave it alone. Kind of like how we treat people in society. If they look good, we leave them alone. If they are ugly, we become bullies and subject them to harassment, rock throwing, and insults. We draw harsh conclusions about them just to feel good and superior about ourselves. But deep down inside our lower intestines, we know we are the ugly inferior ones. We are the ones with the abnormal issues and future felony records. We're the ones that society has a permenant middle finger held up right in front of our face. Okay, I am getting off subject, but as of now, my nails look pretty good. Now when I converse with strangers, I cross my arms but flex my fingers so they can see my manicure. I even wear green nail polish just to make sure I get noticed. I am pretty sure I am due to relapse soon, but for now, I AM WINNING!!!!

The Obligated Disney Trip

I have been wanting to write about my Disney Trip for 2 months now, but everytime the motivation strikes me, IT gets striked down by nagging chores like dinner, laundry, vaccumming, shaving legs, and having to get to bed early enough so my kids aren't the ones waking me up to get them ready for school.
We decided the time was perfect to visit Disney. The kids were tall enough to ride everything and the Gulf oil spill nixed our summer vacay plans, so the funds were sorta there to do Disney World. That and we had to cut out other optional expenses like a much-needed dental crown and bunion removal surgery.
One advice I would like to give to future Disney goers and closet alcoholics is TAKE YOUR OWN ALCOHOL. One bottle of a 16 ounce beer cost as much it's six-pack from a non-Disney store. A cocktail is a good way to wrap up a good day at Disney, which is what you should expect unless your rollercoaster falls off track or you make a bad decision on the shoe you wear that day. Some things I witnessed that made me go 'hmmm...' were:

- Couples with more than 3+ kids under the age of 4.
Where is the fun in this? First of all, most kids under the age of 4 will have hazy memories their experiences. So they can't really recall as adults the experience they had at Disney. Unless you are one of those parents that just HAS to brag to your friends the awesome time you had walking around in 100F degree weather and how Mickey made a special trip just to greet you. If that's your goal, then do it. Pack your diapers, stroller, SPF 80 lotion, juice boxes, benedryl, snacks, zanax, and wipes and be battle ready for the long line waits and the crowd.

- Much older kids waiting in lines for toddler-themed lines.
By much older I mean marrying age. Like 15 if you're from Arkansas or 29 if you're from California. The only thing I want to say to new adults with NO KIDS waiting in line to ride Dumbo is: Just say NO!

- People with weak stomachs riding on rollercoasters.
Seriously, what the hell is wrong with you? You know you're going to throw up if you just watch a someone hopping on a pogo stick. Why would you empty the contents of your gastro-intestinal system if you know you're weak sorry ass is not going to be able handle a ride tailored for fetuses? If you're too stubborn to not ride, then consider dry-heaving by not eating the entire day. Dumbass.

- Parents with toddlers getting on buses just before midnight.
The parks close at 10 pm, but that doesn't mean everyone leaves right then. So it's not unusual to see parents getting on crowded buses with kids at the height of a meltdown at around 11 pm. I don't blame those poor babies for screaming, but I do blame the parents for thinking no one else notices how stupid they are.

Still, with all that said, my opinion of Disney World in Florida is that it is the most efficient well run system I have ever seen. The food is good, the people who work there are friendly to a fault, and it truly is one of the best experiences you can give your child and yourself. It's worth every penny spent, even if it means walking in birkenstocks for the next 3 years because you couldn't get that elective foot surgery. Just know that no matter where you go, you're always going to run into folks who will verify that the bell curve is true.