New Year's Disillusion

The presents have been opened, toys have been played with, new shoes have been worn, and the positive Christmas energy has been taken out to the curb along with the tree. Enter your worst enemy, the New Year’s resolution. For centuries we have celebrated the beginning of a new year by setting a goal for ourselves, and for centuries we have failed to meet that goal. There are a few people out there, who set a specific goal and achieve it, and those people are called assholes, but I digress.

F.M. Knowles said, "He who breaks a resolution is a weakling; He who makes one is a fool." Setting a daunting and unrealistic goal will only serve as a reminder of what a loser you are. So, instead of resolving to lose fifty pounds and stop drinking in 2011, try setting an easily attainable, or vague goal. If you aspire to wake up before noon most of the time, work ~40 hours a week, or change your underwear daily, you will find a feeling of accomplishment when you achieve, and even surpass your goal. Before long you will be drunk, overweight, and unsuccessful, but with a confidence level usually reserved for the captain of the football team. My point is, if we strive for mediocrity, we can all be winners.

This year I resolved to accept the things I could not change, rite bettur, and stay foxy. I accomplished all three January 1^st, 2010. Take that, world! But, what if I had failed? True, I wouldn’t have had that “king of the world” feeling for the remaining 364 ¼ days of the year, but I wouldn’t have let my failures define me or dictate whether I had a good 2010.

I’ve yet to determine my New Year’s resolution for 2011, but rest assured they will rival last year’s in quality and importance. Hopefully, I will achieve them by next December, but if I don’t, that’s ok too. My only plans are to be a little older, a little braver, a little happier, and still none the wiser.

Crappy Christmas

The joke was on me this year when I opened a beautifully wrapped package from a dear friend, only to discover THIS lying within. Despite my shock, I can always appreciate a good poop joke. This was definitely one of my favorite Christmas gifts. Here's to wishing you and yours a crappy 2011!

Just Say "No" to Irony

Bobby Brown and Whitney Houston laid down their crack pipes and sobered up just in time to hold an intervention for their seventeen year old daughter, Bobbi Kristina, last week. This came after picture evidence of her partying hit the World Wide Web leaving many to speculate that the apple didn't fall far from the addiction tree. However, after experiencing their own pitfalls with drugs and alcohol, who better than the Whitney and Bobby to warn their daughter of what she’s in for, lest she change her ways? There is no match for firsthand experience, after all.

If you are a parent who is struggling with talking to your teen about drugs and alcohol, try this Whitney Houston quote as a conversation starter.

“Let’s get one thing straight. Crack is cheap. I make too much money to ever smoke crack. Crack is whack.”

Why Are You So Forward? A lesson in dealing with the nosy and aggressive

You go about your happy life while enjoying almost every moment. The sun is shining, the birds are singing, your lip gloss is popping, and your hair has just the right amount of volume. And, that’s when it happens. Out of nowhere you are blindsided by a rude individual and their prying, need-to-know information. You...

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Seeing the World Through Mr. Potato Head Glasses

This is how Luke (2.5 yrs old) thinks our Nativity scene should be set up. Notice Mary and Joseph are back to back, most likely not speaking to each other. Was it an argument over sending baby Jesus to public vs. private school? I can’t be sure. Poor baby Jesus is out in the cold with the animals, wearing nothing but swaddling clothes. Shame on Mary and Joseph. It would take Child Protective Services awhile to get there because they too, were following the star. My favorite part of the scene, however, would have to be the creepy wise man that is lying on his side, peering in at Mary through the window.
This is not how I imagine things happened after the birth of baby Jesus, but then again who’s to say. Life is always a lot more interesting when you’re seeing the world through Mr. Potato Head glasses.

16 and Pregnant

Leave it to MTV to create a series centered around what is known in the south as, “early onset parenthood.” Not everyone considers sixteen an unusual age to become a parent. In fact, some areas of Georgia consider sixteen to be two years passed marrying age. It’s true. Look it up. (Don’t look it up.)


The show 16 and Pregnant is truly an eye opener for many teens regarding the symptoms of pregnancy for some, and the telltale signs of an impending birth for others. I haven’t actually seen any statistics, but let’s hope that it has prevented at least a couple of toilet births and would-be appearances on TLC’s, I Didn’t Know I was Pregnant.


My super intelligent and attractive friend, Tara, makes her two teenage sons frequently watch 16 and Pregnant. Her goal is for them to realize that babies are forever, and that babies are a never ending tether to that skanky girl (even when she doesn’t lose the baby weight).
Congratulations, Tara! You are the winner of the first ever Loripalooza Mom of the Month award. Your prize is bragging rights AND I’ll take you to Milo’s next time I’m in town. *

(*Mom of the Month prize is non-transferrable and may not be redeemed for cash.)

Luke-isms

My wet flip flops squeaked across the floor as Luke and I exited the indoor pool area at the Y and walked into the locker room. Careful measures were taken in packing and would be taken again in the drying off/clothes changing process to ensure bare feet never touched the nasty floor. I decided to get Luke dressed first. After all, he was more likely to commit a hygienic error.

I got him dressed and stood him on the bench next to me. Now, it was my turn to get dressed. Against my wishes Luke began walking along the bench and opening various vacant lockers. He stopped at one in particular and stuck his head inside. After a deep inhale, he replied, “Oh, Mommy! It smells dewiscious!” Somehow I doubted that. Nothing in the YMCA locker room ever smells dewiscious.

I thought back to the evening before when we sat down for dinner. I placed a plate of pot roast in front of Luke as he exclaimed, “It smells dewiscious.” At the time I thought it was a sweet complement, but in the wake of the locker room incident, I’m not so sure.