Getting old sucks!

Senility: showing the marked deterioration often accompanying old age, esp. mental impairment characterized by confusion, memory loss etc.

How on God's green earth did it happen? I'm 37 years old. Where the hell did the time go? It seems like just yesterday I was playing with a red, plastic fat bat, knocking my sisters teeth out in our front yard. Weren't Bongo jeans and big Texas hair "in" like, just last week?

Thankfully, though I am a proud child of the eighties, I've been fairly adept in adopting the current styles and fads of today's rapidly changing culture. No stirrup pants here, or bright aqua blue eyeliner for me. I grew up. I got(GASP!)...old. Gone are the days of perky boobs and a flat tummy. Never again will my ass hover perfectly above my thighs without jiggling. Three kids, a year of breastfeeding and a whole lot of fanny expanding foods have ensure that any clothing containing the slightest bit of spandex will never again grace my body. And really, as far as I'm concerned, all body hugging clothing should be deemed illegal. The offending proprietors of such clothing should be arrested on the spot as their wardrobe faux paus more often than not cause my stomach to turn and my eyes to bleed. Unless you look like Giselle, and are a size double zero, you shouldn't be wearing spandex of any kind. Case closed.

Along with the decline of my girlish figure, I've come to notice a rapid downturn in brain function. Namely my ability to remember things. I have three girls, none of whom I call by their actual names, but by an odd combination of the three or simply by a "Hey you!" I had breakfast this morning, but for the life of me can't tell you what it was. My poor, frustrated husband who's been patiently waiting for some marital service or "sexy times," as I like to call it, frequently stares at me dumbfounded when I respond to him with a," but didn't we just do it last week?" and replies with an exasperated sigh, "No. It was more like last month."

So, having established that my brain has somehow managed to ooze out my ears, and that I'm working at half capacity, I thought it might be funny to share my latest act of forgetfulness or, sheer stupidity as I like to think of it. Yesterday was the 4th of July. It was hot and I spent a better part of the day melting away underneath a rickety easy up, peddling balloons, raffle tickets and trying hard not to offend others with my sweaty, stinky self. When It was over, I rushed home to take a shower, only to throw a warm soda into the ice box thinking that by the time I got out, it would be nice and cool and therefore enjoyable. I'm sure you see where this is headed. Yep, I completely managed to forget all about the soda and proceeded to take the girls out for a night spent watching fireworks with some friends, getting home at a very late hour.

I woke this morning, parched, and ambled down the stairs with nothing but a nice cold drink on my mind. After grabbing a glass I made my way over to the refrigerator, opening the freezer door to retrieve some ice, and received a wonderful start the day present. The soda can I'd forgotten about had exploded inside my freezer, frozen shards of Squirt covering absolutely everything. Not only had I forgotten about the drink, I'd forgotten that soda will burst if left in the freezer. Sigh...Happy July 5th to me!

Boot Camp 09-10

I suppose as the title of my blog is Confessions of a California Cheer Mom, that I should at some point talk about cheer. With three daughters that participate in All Star cheerleading, the sport takes up a huge portion of our lives, and for all the complaining I do about constantly being in the car, and living at the gym, I wouldn't change it for the world. Watching my girls do something they truly love brings me a joy and sense of satisfaction that is truly fulfilling.

Once a year, in June, amidst a blistering heat wave(it's karmic, it's always hot!)the girls head down to the gym for a weeks worth of hard practice we've all come to know as Boot Camp. Appropriately named, the girls spend four hours a night running stunt drills, tumbling, jumping, and dancing while their drill Sergent's(coaches)applaud, and encourage them to push hard and rise to the occasion. It's intense, tiring and did I mention before it was hot?

This year I had the privilege of being able to hang around and watch the magic that happens during camp, which is closed to parents and curious onlookers. Too much is going on, and extra bodies only serve as a distraction for the girls. I, on the other hand, was lucky enough to have acquired the job of videographer, and official photographer for the season, and had a birds eye view of all the cool stuff that went down. All I can say is that the girls from Athletic Perfection completely blow my mind. Whether is was the five year old that was doing multiple back handsprings, the sixteen year old who has her two to a full, or the flyers who so fearlessly let their bases toss them into the air, I found myself on more than one occasion, awestruck and thoroughly impressed. Rock on girls! You are sooo the shizz!

Lest you think I'm completely biased, I'll let the highlight video I made for the week prove my point. Enjoy :)

Camping 101

As I look back to my childhood, believe it or not, some of the fondest memories I have are of when my family went camping. Lazy weekends spent hiking alongside a creek looking for the perfect rock, snuggling in a warm sleeping bag, and having to hide our food from masked bandits who thought it was funny to toss our Tupperware into the bushes are just a few of those memories.

As I grew up, our camping trips became few and far between, yet somehow I retained my love of the outdoors. To anyone who knows me well, the above statement may seem far fetched and unbelievable. Yes, I'm high maintenance. Yes, I enjoy the creature comforts that come along with electricity. However, for me, there is just something magical about being surrounded by Redwood trees as far as the eye can see. The sounds of the forest, the fresh smell, the serenity; it's priceless. Even for a sissy girl like me.

Back when Ryan and I were dating we went camping quite a bit. It was a cheap way to spend the weekend together, and was even more fun with a group of friends. Then we had a baby, and the camping trips stopped. Life happened, and we were too busy to trek out into the wild. Our idea of what a fun vacation was changed, and we started doing things like going on cruises, and staying in hotels. We got soft. It's been fifteen long years since we've slept in a tent. Long enough to declare us camping virgins once more.

This past weekend we loaded up the truck and took our three girls on their very first camping expedition. Below are a few of the things I suggest you NOT do when venturing out into the wild.

1. Don't assume that because it's June and the weather is SUPPOSED to be warm, that it actually will be. Be smart. Pack more than shorts and capri's. Pack a thick sweatshirt and maybe a lightweight jacket, not just a paper thin Victoria's Secret Pink jacket. Also pack sweats to sleep in or be prepared to freeze your ass off!
2. Bring flip flops for the shower, but DON'T lay them on your husbands truck to dry. He might feel the urge to drive to the store in the morning in search of warmer clothing so his balls won't freeze off in the night, and those shoes might end up lying on the highway somewhere in the back forty.
3. Do make sure your camp barbecue works before you leave. Or at the very least, make sure you read the instructions for said appliance so that you understand the mechanics of it, and know that it doesn't have to make the loud whirring sound the entire time it's in use. Repeated lighting of said appliance is unnecessary and will only serve to annoy the crap out of the chef. This knowledge will also deem it unnecessary to have to trek out to the store first thing in the morning to buy a new camp stove so that you can eat, losing your daughters flip flops in the process.
4. If you want to take your children horseback riding, make sure you do the proper research. Don't assume you need to drive an hour and a half out into the woop woop just to find a horse. There might be stables closer to your campground. Check the yellow pages.
5. Lastly, if you are terrified of horses, don't feel the need to prove your bravery by riding one. This will only weigh you down with anxiety and annoy the demon beast you are riding on. Crying while on the horse is also not a good idea. The demonic equine you are sitting on will deem it irritating, and will try to buck you off. If for some idiotic reason you remain on the horse as it's attempt to throw you off was unsuccessful, it will run at top speed in the hopes that you will fall off, relieving it of it's heavy and whiny burden.

If you follow the above suggestions, it stands to reason you will have an enjoyable time in the wilderness. If not, well, can't say I didn't warn you :)

Tooting my own horn and general pimpage

Yes, yes, I know, three posts in three days, what is she thinking? This woman must be crazy!

The truth is, my posting will probably drop down to once or twice a week, but I was just too darn excited not to post this morning. Gotta say, I'm happier than a pig in...well, um yeah, you know what pigs are happy rolling around in. Ha!

I recently entered a short story contest held by a message board I frequent. A contest that I... wait for it...wait for it...finaled in! I am so tooting my own horn here. The top five finalists entries were sent to Best Selling Author Catherine Spangler, who read and chose her favorite. While my entry wasn't her absolute fav, she did like it and wrote a spectacular blurb for it. Woot! Hell to the yes!

Being the complete geek that I am, and because I've already compared myself to a happy bovine covered in excrement, I figured I might as well go ahead and post her blurb right here on my blog for all to see. Yay! Someone other than my mother and close friends likes my writing!

Here it is in all it's wonderful glory:

‘D’ Day, by Lisa Sanchez is a fast-moving and very funny story about a woman who has the day from hell and makes two startling discoveries: monsters do exist, and the sexy guy from her office is a superhero in disguise. Sanchez’s sharp-witted humor and snappy writing keep the action moving, while the hot love scene heats up the very satisfying ending.
~ Catherine Spangler, National Bestselling Author of Touched by Light

Now for the gushing. I simply cannot say enough about Catherine. She spent a few weeks of her very precious time chatting, and going over GMC's (Goals, motivation and conflict), first lines, and different writing styles with the women on my message board. This gal is not only super successful, she's super sweet as well!

On to the pimpage. I cannot, in good conscience, end this post without urging you to buy Catherine's books, Touched by Fire, Touched by Darkness and her third installment, Touched by Light, in stores now. This woman is special, let's all go out and support her!

Carbohydrates are the DEVIL!

It's no secret that I am a huge fan of Adam Sandler Movies. 50 First Dates, Big Daddy, The Water Boy; these are just a few of my favorites. So I suppose it also shouldn't come as any surprise that on occasion, I can be found spouting random quotes from said favorites; one in particular.


In The Water Boy, Adam Sandler plays Bobby Boucher, a bumbling, back woods idiot that wants to play football for his local University. His "Mama,"played by Cathy Bates, is equally dim-witted and believes pretty much everything under the sun is "The Devil."


Young Bobby: "Mama, when did Ben Franklin invent electricity?"
Mama Boucher: "That's nonsense! I invented electricity. Ben Franklin is the devil!"


So, in the spirit of Mama Boucher, I declare all carbohydrates to be "The Devil." White flour, white rice, refined sugar, juice, soda, and pretty much anything that tastes remotely good sports a high glycemic load. What does this mean, you ask? Very simply put, it means if you ingest anything containing the aforementioned substances, your ass will expand.

I happen to be one of the many unlucky citizens of these United States that also has the privilege of suffering from lower abdominal bloating along with ass expansion. If I so much as look at a piece of bread I blow up like a Macy's day parade float, and take on the very obvious characteristics of a pregnant woman well into her second trimester.

I attended a RWA meeting yesterday which began early in the morning. The location of the meeting was about an hour away from my home, which forced me to leave my house at an early hour if I wanted to arrive on time. This of course meant that I wasn't able to eat a proper breakfast of non ass expanding foods. Upon arriving at the meeting I was famished, and much to my dismay, found an entire table full of fanny inflating foods. Donuts, bagels, orange juice...a veritable smorgasbord of the devils delights, taunting and tempting me with their deliciously evil goodness. Unable to exercise any semblance of control, I loaded up my plate with a pile of donuts that would put a policeman to shame, inhaling the sugary confections as though they were the last bits of food on earth. Subsequently, I am unable to fit into any of my pants and am forced to wear a shower curtain as that's all I can fit around my bloated self.

So go ahead all you skinny people with high metabolisms; go and eat your ice cream and cake, your sourdough bread slathered with butter. Enjoy your glass of wine and your alcoholic spirits. Gorge yourself on fried potatoes, greasy hamburgers and soda. As for me, well, I'll be sitting in the corner drinking water and chewing on Tic Tacs so I can fit my bodonkadonk butt into a swimsuit this summer. Donuts are the devil!