Why Boston Is Pissa

Like many of you I imagine, I've been thinking a lot about Boston this week.  I've been here my whole life and like some, may have taken it for granted here and there.  But as I listen to everyone on TV talk about how these thugs messed with the wrong city, and how resilient Bostonians are and how we will not let this break us, I find myself appreciating Beantown again.  I mean, how can you not?

This guy is from here ....

And so is his brother ....

And his other brother opened one of my new favorite burger joints here .....

What else do I love about Boston?

The sports.  You can't beat Boston sports!

Well, I guess technically you can.

The Red Sox came in last place last season, right?

Whatever, we still love them.  My kids are yelling "Yooooouk!!!!" right now as I type this, even though Kevin Youkilis isn't even a Red Sox player anymore.  (And for the record, he called into a local radio show yesterday to tell the people of Boston that he's thinking about them.)

The Patriots, The Celtics, The Red Sox, The Bruins and the Revolution are all proud Boston teams, with the most loyal fans in the world.  Hearing that all the MLB teams who played yesterday, played Sweet Caroline during the 7th inning stretch brings tears to my eyes. Even our fiercest rivals in NY have our backs and it's heartwarming.

The history.

Our city is steeped in history.  Cool history too.  I grew up taking field trips along the Freedom Trail, learning about The Boston Tea Party, Deborah Sampson and Paul Revere.  We spend summers down the road from Plymouth Rock.  I read my kids Make Way For Ducklings and talk about riding on the Swan Boats in the summer.  My husband and I went on those very Swan Boats the day we found out we were having 2 boys.  It's Boston's history and it's MY history.

The hospitals.

Boston has the best hospitals in the world.  I know, it's not a very entertaining or funny  "fave", but I think it's a good one.  It's one you don't think about until you need and want the best medical care there is, for people you love.  I was lucky enough to be close to them when my damn water broke at 28 weeks!  Brigham and Women's Hospital took me in, kept me healthy and kept those boys of mine in for another month.  The nurses were great, the doctors were great (with the exception of one nose-picker, who also scratched his man parts as he talked to me about my impending C-section.  No thanks, I'm all set with your booger hands done in my lady parts!) and the food was great.  If I was going to be hospitalized for a month, worried sick about my unborn little guys, Boston was where I wanted to be.  I try to forget about my hospital being a teaching hospital and that my "case" was a teaching case, meaning I got all of the students at the foot of my bed every few hours, looking up in "there", "learning".  And once my little preemies arrived, we had the best doctors helping us to navigate the twin preemie experience at Children's Hospital.

These 2 hospitals are among the hospitals caring for those injured this week at the Boston Marathon.  Needless to say, they are in fantastic hands.

The beans.

OK, I'm not really that into beans, but we have Boston Baked Beans and why not be proud of them?  I mean, Philly has the Cheese Steaks, Chicago has Deep Dish Pizza, and New York has Cheesecake. Boston has Beans.  Whatever, we have it, may as well rock it and apparently, we do.

The schools.

Harvard, Boston College, Boston University, Bentley, Babson, Berkley, Emerson, MIT, Tufts. And those are a literal handful of the fantastic schools around!   I know!  We're Wicked Smaht!

The people.

I love the people here.  OK, well for the most part.  And look at all of the famous people who have come from Boston:

Matt Damon, Ben Affleck, Casey Affleck, Mark Wahlberg, Donnie Wahlberg, Steve Carrell, James Spader, Mindy Kaling, BJ Novak, Stiffler's Mom, Maura Tierney, Conan O'Brien, Steven Tyler, Tom Bergeron, Dennis Leary, Amy Pohler, Rachel Dratch, The Commish, John Krasinsky, Louie CK, Elizabeth Banks, Ellen Pompeo, Jay Leno, Bridget Moynahan and Bobby Brown.

I mean, it's a who's who of who my stalking list! Well, with the exception of Bobby Brown.  That guy is  just crazy.

Remember when Michael Chiklis was the Commish?

In all seriousness, every important piece of my life has happened here.  It's a special place, filled with proud, hard working people.  And like they keep saying, this will not keep us down.

For every Curse of the Bambino, there is a World Series Win.

For every Winter Hill Gang, there is a Camelot.

For every 2-feet-of-snow-in-April snowstorm, there is a Halloween with no coat needed, and beautiful red, orange and yellow leaves on the trees.

And for this devastation at the Boston Marathon, there will be a Dick and Rick Hoyt who will still run it next year.

You can't keep Boston down.  We're wicked stubborn and we have wicked tempahs...sorry, tempers.  We'll come through this stronger than ever!

I Love Boston A Wicked Lot!

Hey.

It's me.

I am not going to pretend you remember me.

I am not going to pretend that you should remember me.

It's been a while.

A long while.

And I kept saying "I'm back!"

I wasn't back.

And I have no excuse.

I was kind of all set with blogging for a while.

Don't get me wrong, there was plenty to write about.

I'd be out and about watching some sort of ridiculousness going on, thinking the whole time, "what a great blog post this would make".

But once I got home, there was just nothing there.

Nothin.

But lately....

Lately, I've been getting this little tingle....

OK perv, not that kind of tingle.....

The kind that gets me wanting to write.

The kind that makes me want to spew share my unwanted bitchiness thoughts and opinions with you.

Here and there I would look over my blog design and get the "itch" to re-design it.

I would read an old post and laugh hysterically at how hilarious I am think about how fun it was to write.

And then someone set off 2 bombs in my fantastic city of Boston, during the Marathon.

I have some shit to say about that.

How dare they?

Cowards.

The Boston Marathon is one of the most prestigious Marathons around.

And they bombed it.

Cowards.

Runners, like myself, running.  Not hurting anyone.  Just running.

Runners running for charities.

Runners running to reach a personal goal.

Runners running for tradition.

And families, friends and supporters of runners watching, cheering and rooting from the side of the road.

Bombed.

An 8 year old boy who was running to greet his father who had just finished the race, was killed.

In my city.

Cowards.

I watched the coverage of this for 8 hours the day it happened.

I listened to 4 hours of radio coverage while I was at work the next day.

I keep crying.

I keep thinking of my best friend who was there and all of the "what ifs"....

What if she hadn't left when she did?

What if I had gone with her, with my boys?

What if it had happened when I was just at Disney World, kindergarten orientation, soccer practice?

What if it had been my son who was running to greet someone when a bomb went off?

I know. I have to stop.

I have to stop watching the non-stop coverage.

I have to stop thinking about the what ifs.

I have to stop telling myself that I will home school my kids, online shop for everything and only allow play dates in my home - essentially keeping my kids in my home, protected F O R E V E R.

I'll stop.

Maybe tomorrow.

Or the next day.

Today I am going to keep worrying.

Stay sad.

Get angry.

Remain vigilant.

Continue being thankful.

I keep reading Patton Oswald's post about how there is more good in the world than evil, and I know he's right.  If you haven't read his message it's pretty comforting.  You can read it here.

There are pictures and videos all over, showing first responders, other runners, spectators and people in general all running towards the blast to help.

Former Patriot's player, Joe Andruzzi, helping
after the explosions.

Runners who had just run 26 miles, continued running straight to the hospital to donate blood.

Strangers helped strangers.  People did whatever they could, even if it was just letting someone use their phone to let loved ones know they were safe.

This one keeps making me cry....I just read that the
Yankees will be playing Sweet Caroline at their
next game in support of Boston.

Oswald ended by saying, "So when you spot violence, or bigotry, or intolerance or fear or just garden-variety misogyny, hatred or ignorance, just look it in the eye and think, 'The good outnumber you, and we always will.'"

I'm going to try and go with that.  Believing that the world is a terrifying place is no way to live.

Anywho....that's what I have to say about that for now.

I love Massachusetts.  I love Boston.  It's always been good to me and if you do remember me at all, you know I fiercely protect those I love.  So this feeling of helplessness I have is bugging me.  And I hold them responsible.

Cowards.

Friday Funnies Are Back!

I totally forgot about Friday Funnies.  I don't even know how because my computer is jam packed full of funny shit I see and have to save.  So I hope everyone has a fantastic weekend!  It's our last soccer game tomorrow and the boys are devastated.  Or psyched.  It's hard to tell because they can't wait to get there, and once we're there, they cry and don't want to play.  Then they cry when the game is over because they didn't get to play.  Then when we finally force them to play, they beam ear to ear the whole time they are out there, and say they want to play it every day.  Until the next week when we get to the field and they don't want to play.  I know, it's exhausting.  TGIF!   Enjoy.

See what happens to skinny bitches on the beach?

So true.  You know who you are!

Fat cat.  (Insert Beavis and Butthead laugh)

How true?

True dat.

Anyone else find it disturbing just how close to the edge
this newborn is?

Yah....WTF do they make that out of?
It's like barbed wire!

Stick 'em up.

Awww, look at how comfy that kitty is.....

Come on, you laughed at at least one of those.  Can I ask you for a vote?

Missing Ballot Questions

So I voted.

I did my civic duty.

Exercised my right.

Which is the only exercising I have done all week.  It was exhausting, so I'm counting it.  Walking from the car, maneuvering out of the way of all the cottonheads, making sure the boys aren't sitting at the feet of the person next to me .... phew ... I need to lay down.

And while I was looking over my ballot, voting for the lesser of a few evils, I realized that they should use voting day to vote on all the important issues.

The real issues.

OK, well maybe not the real issues.

But ones that I would find useful and hilarious.

Especially for the purpose of this blog of mine.

So here are some questions I think should have been on the ballot.

Question 1.

Question 1 would make it illegal for male youth to wear their jeans, khakis, dungarees, slacks, pantaloons, shorts, shorty pants, and most of all, skinny jeans below their asses.  A yes vote, would allow law enforcement officials to slap said youth, up side the head while demanding they pull their pants up.  Furthermore, any citizen would be allowed to go up behind said youth, and pants them (meaning pull their pants down) so their pants were around their ankles, causing them to a) walk like a penguin or b) fall on their faces.  Both of which, would be hilarious.

Yah.  That looks awesome.  Great look.

Question 2.

Question 2 would make it legal for law enforcement to require a parenting degree before giving birth or adopting a child.  Potential "parents" would need to pass a parenting test, and a series of psychological exams before being allowed to have a child.  Officials could also limit the number of children you have if you are a crazy skank like Nadya Suleman, so as not to allow a crazy skank to be in charge of raising 14 human beings.

Do you think she's adding this cover to their baby books?

Question 3.

A yes vote on Question 3 would require all political candidates to be attached to a Lie Detector while campaigning.  Each candidate would have to pay for the device and as well as for a Lie Detector Technician to accompany him or her at all times.  A yes vote would also require that any time a candidate was caught lying, they would be required to either pay a fine of $100,000 to the charity or organization of their rival's choice, or be subject to a Jackass stunt on live television.

Question 4.

A yes vote on Question 4 would require all Moms to attend "Mom Workshops" one night per week.  These workshops will range in topics such as meal preparation (trading Pinterest finds), stress reduction (wine tastings), parenting tips and tricks (Bad Mom Moments contests) and self care (pedicures, massages, facials, wine and gourmet chocolate).  Workshops would be mandatory, and would require the Mom to sleep until 9am the following day.  Significant others should plan accordingly.

Week long retreats may also be required.

And here's the proposed Motivational Speaker.

Question 5.

A yes vote would bring back the Oprah show.

And make her President of the United States.

She could pay back the US debt out of her own bank account, and still have enough to start up schools in Africa.  It would be genius.  It's about time for Oprah's Favorite Things too, and who doesn't want to be a part of that?

This is all she'd need for a campaign ad.

She'd get my vote.

Unless she chose that coat-tail-riding BFF of hers, Gayle King as her running mate.  That would change everything.

So, who's with me?!?!?!?

Since it's voting season....would you mind?  Just a click and you're done!  I didn't run any negative ads, I didn't call your house right at dinner time and I don't fill your mailbox with campaign flyers!  Please?

You're A Bitch, Sandy!

We just came out of Hurricane Sandy here on the East Coast.  We had some nasty winds and lots of rain but our family came out of it very lucky and quite unscathed.  I can't even begin to imagine what those poor people in NY and NJ are going through right now.  The photos are almost unbelievable.

OK, this is obviously fake.  And maybe slightly
inappropriate.  Too soon?

But look at some of these...

The whole freakin' front of this building fell off!

I don't even know what this is, but it
scares the hell out of me.  It looks like
something out of a movie!

This is the subway.  I mean, where the hell do
you even begin?!?!

And these pics are just from New York.  This bitch, Sandy ravaged our whole eastern seaboard.  (I don't even really know what that means, but it sounds very weathery, and I kept hearing them say it on the news).

So like many of you I bet, I was home, eyes locked on the news, unable to change the channel (except to a rival station when they went to commercial).  One local Weather Woman (as I write that, I picture her  like a Super Hero, in some sort of Wonder Woman get up) said she "loves natural disasters".

Probably not the best verbiage to use as poor Mary in Apt. 2C's exterior wall just fell off as she watched you report on Sandy.  She's probably not a fan of natural disasters.

Another Wonder Weather Woman said that this was "like her Superbowl".  Really?  Did you bust out the Buffalo Chicken dip out back and have yourself a little Wind, Rain & Destruction party?  Throw back some Cheetos during commercial break?  Because Danny and his family down the street are on Day 2 of no power, so you should swing by their house and take some of their food that is probably rotting in their defrosted refrigerator.

Whatever.  I get it.  It's the adrenaline.  It's the wonder of the weather.  I have it too.  I love watching the wind bend the trees, and the rain come down sideways, and the waves crashing over rock walls.

But for like, 15 minutes.

From my electrified house, that is far away from the ocean.

Knowing everyone I love is safe somewhere.

And then I want it over.

But then there are those people you see on the news.

The ones doing all of the stupid shit you shouldn't do during a crazy storm, especially the worst storm the Atlantic Ocean has seen.  Ever.

The ones waving behind the reporter.

You may not recognize her without a face full of
rain or snow, but here's Shelby!

And you know that reporter. Around Boston when I was a kid, it used to be Shelby Scott on WBZ (remember that, Boston peeps?)  They're the reporter they send straight into the depths of hell to report on just how bad it is out there.  They are getting soaked by waves, blown to the ground by hurricane force winds and are out of breath just from trying to stay upright.

And then.... if you look behind them, you see them.

The idiots.

The guy who is 25 feet BEYOND the unsafely positioned reporter, jumping and waving and pointing at the 29 foot waves like an idiot.  And then he gets sideswiped by one.  And you're a little bit glad, because he was being dumb, but then terrified that you just watched someone get swept out to sea to their death.

But then wait....what's that?

Yup, you see him again, behind the reporter with is hands up in the air, like "Yah!  I fought the beast and won!"  He's soaking wet, missing a shoe and has salt water and snot coming out of his nose.  Fool.

Or the other fool who is out surfing in said 29 foot waves.  "But these storms produce the best waves!" {insert fake surfer drawl} they say.

OK guy.

We get it.

You're a surfer-dude.

In Boston.

Uh-huh.

If you were a real surfer, you wouldn't live in Massachusetts.

You'd be in Australia with Bodhi from Point Break, not Scituate Harbor in a hurricane.

Believe me, I mean no offense to any real Massachusetts surfers out there.  I know you're out there.  But you also know there about these other "surfers" I'm talking about, who are used to surfing the small, Atlantic Ocean waves, who all of a sudden want to conquer a hurricane.  Go home. Come back Memorial Day.

We've seen a lot of footage around here, of the people who try to drive through the flooded streets, through 4 feet of water.

Really?

Even if you know nothing about cars, wouldn't you assume that that much water could possibly harm some sort of wire, valve, or electronic device in your vehicle?

No?

How about the battery?  I mean, you aren't supposed to get AA batteries wet, right?  So how about your GIANT car battery?  Keep it dry, maybe?

That's right, Lady.  Try going really fast, that might help!

Be smart people.

When the "officials" are telling you to stay away....stay away.

There you go....did you get the shot?

When they say to evacuate...evacuate. (And this means you, people who are stranded in their attics after refusing to evacuate.)

I am quite sure they aren't calling for mass evacuations just for the fun of it.

I'm fairly certain that all sorts of panicked people involved in a mass exodus at the same time is a complete nightmare for them.  And that they would only do that to themselves if they absolutely thought it was necessary TO SAVE YOUR LIFE.

But saving the lives of people who do dumb shit, puts the rescuers' lives in danger.  And I know if I had to go save your ass out in the ocean because you wanted to be on TV in your wet clothes, with your missing shoe, with boogers all over your face, I'd be pissed.

I mean, why should I save your ass, when there are so many other real emergencies to respond to.  Such as......

I mean...Holy Hell.  Talk about Natural Disaster.

For the record, this picture was taken during Hurricane Sandy.  Someone took this photo.  Not of the flooding, not of the Queens fires, but of this mess.  What the hell kind of world do we live in?  Seriously?

I HONESTLY don't mean to make light of this storm, or the horror that ANYONE is going through right now.  I wish nothing but the best to all of those out there affected by this bitch, Sandy.  But when I'm stressed, or nervous or sad, I make jokes.  It's a "thing".  A defense mechanism.  I'm worried about all of you out there.

So please take a moment away from the horrific pictures, the devastating news and the super sad stories and have a laugh.  It will help.  I mean...how can you not laugh at Donald Trump's hair?

My thoughts and prayers are with all of those who have been affected by Sandy.  Sending good thoughts your way!  

AND IF ANYONE WOULD LIKE TO HELP, HERE IS A GREAT LINK THAT TELLS YOU HOW.  Click on any of the links throughout this post to find out more about helping.

I Am Soccer Mom

I'm a Soccer Mom now.

I know, it's awesome, right?  I can go out and get that soccer ball decal that goes on the back of my SUV, right?

I think this one is more "me".

I mean, I already have the Soccer Mom "uniform".  The UGGS, the furry North Face jacket (or shiny patent leather Dansko's depending on how muddy the fields are) and the trendy duffel filled with shin pads, cleats and water bottles.

I'm rocking the Soccer Mom role.

Now, soccer for 5 year olds in our town, is on Saturdays at noon (yes, RIGHT in the middle of the day, so it completely interrupts anything you may have planned).  They have a 20 minute practice followed by a half hour game.  It's 4 on 4, co-ed, small net, no score-keeping.  So, totally like professional soccer.

My kids were (and still are) a bit slow to warm up to it.  We have been such perfect parents done such a bang up job at raising our kids so far, that the thought of taking the ball from the other team is naughty to them.  Kudos to us for rocking the whole raising-good-kids thing, but this does not bode well for raising future Beckhams.  Little Miss Bad-ass steals the ball from one of my kids, and they just let her do it (awww, what gentlemen!)  They have the opportunity to steal the ball from someone else, and don't.  And forget it if someone falls down, the game stops, and everyone stares at the poor kid who fell down, wondering if they were at fault and if they are OK.  It's adorable.

Action shot!  How cute?
And don't be fooled by that net in the background.
Ours is about as big as my kid.

So we have had issues with one son getting out there to play.  He gets nervous, which why wouldn't he?  He's never played a team sport before, and now here are 8 kids all jammed around a little ball, kicking each other, trying to steal it from each other while some crazy-ass Soccer Mom is screaming cheering on the sidelines (yah, you can read that as, I am screaming on the sidelines).

But I can't help it.  It's so exciting.  My little boys, out there in their way-too-big uniforms, playing a real sport.  One has it nailed (except that he is easily distracted and is usually looking around, wondering what the wooden thing is up in that tree, wondering where his classmate Julian is, wondering what's for lunch), and I know the other one likes it when he isn't all up in his head, thinking about how scary it is.

So this past Saturday started out as they normally do.  One son starts out nervous, but then gets into it and is fine.  The other son clings to Daddy, crying that he doesn't want to play.  (And did I mention that Chris has to run up and down with Nervous Son to get him to play.  Yup.  True Story)  The coach (who is a freakin' Saint, by the way.  I can't think of anything more frustrating than "coaching" 4 and 5 years olds in soccer.  During one game, my son and another little girl refused to play, and one kid was literally laying in the middle of the field) tries to get him involved by letting him lead drills, use the special ball, paying him one million dollars - anything.  Nervous Son isn't fooled.

But then....

Nervous Son gets out there and starts having fun.  He's smiling. He's running. He's kicking. It's awesome.  "Practice" ends, and the "game" begins.  And guess who turns into David Freakin' Beckham?

Yup, Nervous Son.

He breaks away and scores the first goal.

Hot Diggity.

So as this breakaway is happening, this crazy ass Soccer Mom is jumping up and down, (along with Crazy Soccer Nana) on the sidelines, screaming like it's the Patriots in the Super Bowl and I'm Gisele (sorry, I don't even know what the soccer equivalent to the Super Bowl is...I'm a new Soccer Mom).  I will admit, I am tearing up behind my sunglasses, because 15 minutes ago, my son was crying that he didn't want to play, and now he's the hero, and will probably end up the biggest soccer star in the world.

OK, maybe I'm getting ahead of myself, but you get my drift.

Fast forward through the game, and here is Nervous Son, scoring his 4th goal.  Yup.  That's my boy.  My other son scored one too.  And even though we don't "keep score", we totally kicked the other teams' ass. And not for nothing, but my kiddos can run!  They're fast!  So I'm thinking track, football, soccer scholarships....I mean, how the hell else will I be able to afford 2 college tuitions at once?

Now....the fact that Crazy Ass Nana and I are the only ones cheering, is not lost on me.  I mean, I know these are little ones, but does that mean we don't cheer?  My kids loved it!  My thought is, I have to cheer like a fool now, while they aren't totally embarrassed by me (which, for the record, won't stop me in the future).

I would be writing a post about this annoying Soccer Mom, and her loud, cheering self.  I know.  I am probably so annoying.  I really don't mean to be, I just honestly get wrapped up in it.  And in my defense, I cheer for all the kids, both teams.  How can you not?  They're little peanuts out there, with little tiny peanut cleats, and a number on their back.  It's the cutest thing ever.

I mean, c'mon.  How cute are these kiddos?

I'm sure many of the other parents have older kids who have already played some sport.  They're probably a bit "over" the whole competitive pre-school sport thing.  I get it.   I even get why they were staring at me while I jumped up and down like someone who just spun $1.00 on the Showcase Showdown on the Price Is Right.  But whatever.  My shy guys are scoring goals and I'm happy about it. Chris and I keep talking about what lunatics we will be when they're older and there's more at stake during games.

Yah, it won't be pretty.

Sorry, boys.

It's just how it's going to be.  Once a cheerleader, always a cheerleader.  Don't make me bust out my uniform.  I'll climb right up onto Auntie Beckie's shoulders, just like back in the day.

I'm just sayin'.....

You guys have cheered me on...right up to number 50 on Top Mommy Blogs!  You rock!  Can I bother you for another click please?  You're the best!  GO NEUTRONS!!!!