Kenmore Blogger Summit Day 2

Confession: I had an even better time than I thought I would.

I know my day 1 recap was a little on the jokey-jokey side, but I'm all about short and sweet when it comes to these things, so I'm not going to deviate too much from what I did after Day 1.
For me, Day 2 went pretty much like this:

I met a bunch of people. Okay, I met a bunch of awesome people.
A bunch of stuff happened.
And then I won THIS:

And really, I could just end this post right there. But in all seriousness (yes, I do that every once in a blue moon)...

Day 2 of Kenmore Blogger Summit took us down to the Kenmore Live Studio in beautiful Chicago. There we were treated to such wonderful things as a cooking demo with The Spicy Chef, Chef Suzy Singh of Master Chef. And then there was the whole oven winning thing.

A real live "Chopped" style, slow cooker competition amongst all of us bloggers. Congrats Fox Force Five for the big win. I'd like to say The Cool Kids (my team) was robbed, but after tasting them all, I had to admit that what they made was really good.
And then there was the whole oven winning thing.

We got a smoothie demo from The Green Grocer Chicago. We had a yummy lunch courtesy of Truffleberry Market Caterers, which curse them for being in Chicago and not New Jersey because I really wanted to marry that salad! And then of course the whole oven winning thing.

I got Jessica Gottlieb to make me an alien hat so we could film a vacuum cleaner commercial. And I am pretty sure I'm now committed to making a large turkey, possibly 2, for both Backpacking Dad and Redneck Mommy. I'm not going to mention the oven thing here. But let's just say I won something big and it rhymes with lovin'.

We heard from some execs at Kenmore who provided us with a host of information about the Kenmore brand, ideas, innovations, products, and technology. My personal fave was Kenmore's Marketing Director, Samuel Monnie. His clear passion for the brand and for seeing it continue to evolve was inspiring. Plus, totally dig the cool British accent, so, bonus. We were also treated to an excellent keynote from Wired Magazine's Editor-in-Chief, Evan Hansen. And then of course, there was the whole oven thing.

Seriously though, I have to tell you that if it was Kenmore's goal to get a group of people to use their reach to sing the praises of Kenmore's new and innovative appliance line, I would have to say: mission accomplished. I mean, I tend to think that bloggers, for the most part, are not the easiest group of people to impress. So when a man opens up a refrigerator door and 40 people squeal like giddy school girls (including the guys), you know something good is going on. I can honestly say that Kenmore impressed me this weekend. A lot. And they impressed a whole lot of other blogger's as well. And I'd say that even if it weren't for the oven. But let's not overlook the oven.

Oh and how could I forget, we got a real treat from Mark Beier of Chicago Fit Club, who, along with Rookie Mom Whitney and Tanis from Redneck Mommy performed what was supposed to be an example of how we can combine simple house cleaning tasks like vacuuming with fitness, but I think it might have actually been fodder for one of those Showtime After Dark movies.

Lastly... the winning idea for the oven! We were asked by Kenmore to write down on their white board throughout the day any ideas or innovations we might have for Kenmore appliances. The folks at Kenmore picked 10 that the loved, and then we the bloggers voted via text or tweet for our faves. My idea: having the front panel of the door on the side by side fridge be a dry erase board (and/or a chalkboard). So tell me, what are some of your ideas for innovations with Kenmore appliances?

Kenmore Blogger Summit Day 1

Confession: This whole being alone in Chicago thing isn't too bad.

I'm here. No kids. No spouse. Just me. I flew alone. Except not really alone. Made it to Chicago in the snow for Day 1 of the Kenmore Blogger Summit 2012. 
Here's a swell recap:
Morning. Stress. Coffee. Bye kids. Airport. Hey it's Rob! WTF was that noise underneath us? Snow. Oooh pretty hotel. Popcorn. Dressed. Popcorn. Cocktails. Food? Food. Cocktails. Oh hey it's Kenmore. Oh hey it's Google +. Wait, how many +1 hits does Google get every day? Cocktails. A blogger's 9 year old daughter almost makes me cry. Room. Popcorn. Check alarm. Hopefully Sara wakes me up. Check alarm. Shower. Check alarm. Sleep.
I bet you can't wait for Day 2.
And now the fine print: Actually, this is where I have to use some full sentences...
As part of our welcome bag, we got a nifty coupon that you too can use if you'd like. 

30% off all regular-price Kenmore small kitchen appliances, cookware, bakeware and kitchen gadgets! The coupon is valid from January 22, 2012 – February 4, 2012 and is valid on regular price merchandise sold by Sears on Sears.com and by Kmart on Kmart.com only.

Enter coupon code 30KENMORE 

While I'm writing in full sentences, now would be a good time to tell you that you can follow along with all the fun on Twitter too, by following the hashtag #KBS2012.

Thank you to Kenmore. Sears. Google. The Sofitel. Garrett's popcorn. The lady who made my bed. Whoever was responsible for booking my flight early enough that I got here without incident (since so many others were NOT so lucky). Oh and the creator of these showers. 

Tomorrow I'll put up pictures since it's what all the cool kids are doing.
G'night.

Realizing the Dream (and the full text of Martin Luther King's 'I Have a Dream' Speech)

Confession: I can't read this without crying. Can you?

What makes the full text of Martin Luther King's "I Have a Dream" speech fodder for a mom blog?
I have children. Chances are if your are reading this blog, you may too. It is my hope that my children will always keep the message of Dr. King close to their hearts. I hope that they will understand it- embrace it- help to realize it. Because even today, we are still not there. Not all the way. I hope that when they are my age, they will still get tears in their eyes and pains in their hearts the way I do whenever I see it. But, my hope for them is that they will read it with tear-filled eyes as a reminder of what was; of how far we have come- and not, as I have, as a reminder of all that still needs to be done.

Full text: 

I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation.

Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of their captivity.

But one hundred years later, the Negro still is not free. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still languished in the corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own land. And so we’ve come here today to dramatize a shameful condition.

In a sense we’ve come to our nation’s capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men, yes, black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed the “unalienable Rights” of “Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.” It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note, insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check, a check which has come back marked “insufficient funds.”

But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. And so, we’ve come to cash this check, a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice.

We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of Now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quicksands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God’s children.

It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment. This sweltering summer of the Negro’s legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. Nineteen sixty-three is not an end, but a beginning. And those who hope that the Negro needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual. And there will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.

But there is something that I must say to my people, who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice: In the process of gaining our rightful place, we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred. We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again, we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force.

The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to a distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny. And they have come to realize that their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom.

We cannot walk alone.

And as we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead.

We cannot turn back.

There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, “When will you be satisfied?” We can never be satisfied as long as the Negro is the victim of the unspeakable horrors of police brutality. We can never be satisfied as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. We cannot be satisfied as long as the negro’s basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto to a larger one. We can never be satisfied as long as our children are stripped of their self-hood and robbed of their dignity by signs stating: “For Whites Only.” We cannot be satisfied as long as a Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and a Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote. No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until “justice rolls down like waters, and righteousness like a mighty stream.”¹

I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow jail cells. And some of you have come from areas where your quest — quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive. Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to South Carolina, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettos of our northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed.

Let us not wallow in the valley of despair, I say to you today, my friends.

And so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.

I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal.”

I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia, the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.

I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.

I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.

I have a dream today!

I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of “interposition” and “nullification” — one day right there in Alabama little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.

I have a dream today!

I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, and every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight; “and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed and all flesh shall see it together.”2

This is our hope, and this is the faith that I go back to the South with.

With this faith, we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith, we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith, we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.

And this will be the day — this will be the day when all of God’s children will be able to sing with new meaning:

My country ’tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing.

Land where my fathers died, land of the Pilgrim’s pride,

From every mountainside, let freedom ring!

And if America is to be a great nation, this must become true.

And so let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire.

Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York.

Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania.

Let freedom ring from the snow-capped Rockies of Colorado.

Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California.

But not only that:

Let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia.

Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee.

Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi.

From every mountainside, let freedom ring.

And when this happens, when we allow freedom ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God’s children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual:

Free at last! Free at last!

Thank God Almighty, we are free at last!

More Kenmore Stuff? Will the Fun Ever End?

Confession: I'm not much of a cook. Or much of a housekeeper. Or laundress. Is that a word?

Luckily, I rock in other areas!
And luckily, I have readers that are good at those things. 
I think.
I hope.
So here's the deal.
This whole Kenmore thing.
Not only do they want to bring me out to Chicago...
but they want to give YOU stuff too.
They seem super cool that way.


But, time is of the essence.
So, if you want a chance to win...
you'd better get cooking.
haha
No pun intended.
Okay totally intended.
They make stoves and stuff.
Get it?
Of course you do.
Anyway...
You know I don't do giveaways any more but this is a good one.
And you know since they're paying for my hotel and airfare and all that....
Here's what you can win:
$100, $50, and $25 Sears gift cards.
And
Here's what you need to do:

Submit a short video showing your most unusual, yet practical use of a common household appliance.

Submit your video via email to michellewolfson1 at yahoo.com with the subject line “Creative Uses Giveaway” on or before January 18, 2012 at 7 pm CST.  I'll select five (5) entries from those submitted and forward them to Kenmore who will determine the prize winners.

But Michelle, it's not much time.
I know dude. That's why you need to totally get on that, like right now.
Wait.
Before you go.

THE RULES:

1. Unless  the brand name of your appliance is Kenmore, it cannot be visible in the video. Cover them with tape (or anything else), or just turn it so you can't see the name- whatever. Pretty please!

2. Format: Uncompressed Quicktime files at 1920×1080 16:9 are preferred.  Any uncompressed file would be best, and the bigger the format, the better.

3.  Entries close at 7pm CST on January 18, 2012.

4.  This giveaway is for U.S. residents only.

So, um, I guess happy videoing.
If I had any creative uses for appliances myself, I might submit a video too.
But I don't.
Ooh but maybe after this summit I will!

Good luck.

Is Kenmore Going to Be Mad that I used the Word "Hell" in This Post?

Confession: I may have sold out.

Nah. not really. But....
I've been blogging for 5 years now. In the course of that 5 years I have been invited to many, many blogging events, boot camps, seminars, summits, and all facets of things blog related. And although SO many of them have been really fun and enticing offers, I have been extremely limited in what I have accepted over the years. For one thing, I never leave my kids. I know there is a mixed bag of opinions on this. That's for another time. Besides the kids, I have a whole host of other reasons why I have limited myself to a very select few local(ish) events over those 5 years.

And although the coveted invitation to Disney has continued to elude me all of these years (hey Disney if you're reading this- you should totally invite me), I have had a few very nice offers that I have had to decline. And by the way Kenmore... if you have any friends over at Disney and wanna put in a good word... just sayin'.

Call it serendipity. Call it kismet. Call it overworked mommy-itis. But, as luck would have it, an offer came in the other day that I was actually willing and able(ish) to say yes to. Kenmore has invited me to be a part of their 2012 Blogger Summit in Chicago later this month.

Kenmore. You know Kenmore. You are probably thinking of your Grandma's washing machine right now, aren't you? Well, let me ask you this- does this look like your Grandma's washer?

Didn't think so.
So yeah, I'm actually excited to go out to Chicago, meet with 43 other bloggers, and hear and see what Kenmore has to offer.

So yeah, 43 other bloggers are heading to this summit too. So allow me to spill the beans right here. There are more reasons than 3 little bundles of joy that keep me from hitting every major blogging event in the country.

I have anxiety issues. At present I am trying to bribe someone to drive me to the airport AND hold my hand until I get on the plane. I'd buy a ticket for them to hold my hand all the way to Chicago too if I could afford it!

I hate not sleeping in my own bed.

I worry the whole time I am gone about what is going on at home in my absence.

In other words, I am the life of the party!

All of this- but wait, there's more.

I drink.
I have tattoos.
I choke on everything.
I snore.
I swear like a truck driver.
and If I drank milk, I'd probably drink it right from the carton.
Basically, you're gonna love me.

**If there's a roommate situation, I apologize in advance.**

Last year I heard there was some shenanigans where they put the mommy (and daddy) bloggers up against the food bloggers in some sort of competition. Now it IS Kenmore, so presumably this could have been some type of cooking event, I am not sure. But, I will tell you this- putting me in any type of cooking event, is a potentially dangerous proposition. I'm 99% sure that show Worst Cooks in America is loosely based on my life story. Anyway...

So, about the 43 other blogs that will be represented in Chi-town- Is it okay to call it Chi-Town? Or do people in Chicago hate that as much as people in San Francisco hate it when people call it Frisco?
Ugh... train of thought.... train of thought. Right. The blogs... Some I've read. Some I had heard of but had never read. And some are brand new to me. But after this, I will know them all. And I am sure in just a few weeks, we can all call ourselves old friends. Or maybe we can all call each other terrible names behind each other's backs. We'll see how it pans out.

You Want 55 Bucks to Do WHAT?

Confession: I don’t really get into all the high-maintenance girly stuff.

I’ve tried. I’ve tried to be into fashion; to keep up on what’s in style. I’ve tried to get with the latest beauty tips and trends and try to keep up. But, who has time? Or money? Or TIME? 

I’ve frequented some really good beauty on a budget sites. I’ve scoured over some of the better blogs about how to stay fashionable and stylish after the frumpy mommy syndrome has set in. Truth is, I just don't think I have it in me. Never have. Well, maybe not NEVER. But the last time I was genuinely concerned about something like matching my purse to my shoes, or if I was wearing the right lipstick shade for my skin tone, I was probably about 15. No lie. 

Sure, if I’m going out I’ll ditch the sweat pants I’ve probably been wearing for 3 days in a row. I might even fix my hair and throw on a little make-up. But most likely, it’s going to be simply throwing on a pair of jeans and boots. And a quick bun and a little mascara and lipstick are probably all you’re going to coax from me. Because really, at the end of the day, I just don’t need it. I don’t need the extra work, the extra effort, the doing and undoing, and all the extra expense, to feel good about myself. I am a low-maintenance girl.

There it is. It’s out in the open. My husband would likely argue this fact all day. He would likely tell you that I am most definitely NOT a low maintenance girl. In fact, he believes me to be rather high maintenance. However, I believe this stems from the fact that he has never actually had any long term interaction with a truly high maintenance chick. Plus, his view of what constitutes high maintenance and mine probably differ greatly, I’d like to think I will still win this argument. 

Case in point, I still shave my legs- and other “stuff” too. Now, how many high maintenance mommas still shave? Probably few. Chins don’t count. They are all waxed or lasered or electrolifyed, or somehow otherwise professionally groomed. Hubs needs to have the full appreciation that I still use a $5 pack of pink disposable razors to get the job done, just like I did when I was 16. 

And he should be glad of it. I mean, not that he wouldn't appreciate the smooth and silky results of one of those other high maintenance approaches- I think he would. But I don’t  think he would be thrilled by my spending half a week’s grocery money to have a veritable stranger assault these gams with a hot wax bath, in what can only be likened to what they must use to get stoic captive spies to give up secret intelligence. And I know that I wouldn't be thrilled having Svetlanana, the barely intelligible hot waxer, elbow deep in my hoo-ha with her wax strips to do monthly maintenance. Sorry, but no frackin’ way! And yes, I know there are options that don’t have to be considered assault and battery in 12 states, but I venture to guess that they cost even more!

So yes, this is one reason I consider myself low maintenance. I mean, don’t even get me started on my $7 box of hair color from Target. Or my do-it-at-home for free manicure. 

So, he can call me high maintenance allll he wants to. But at the end of the day when I go out, I feel fine about how I look. And hopefully so does he. And I didn’t have to spend 200 bucks like some of my more well-groomed counterparts. 

**200 bucks is a guesstimate based on a leg and bikini wax, hair color, and manicure. I have no idea how much any of these things *actually* cost since I don’t do them. Could be higher. Could be lower, Though based on the sad faces of my male friends whose wives spend a lot of money on this stuff, I am guessing it is *not* lower.**

Love ya honey. Now, you better recognize. 

If You Give a Mom a Laundry Basket...

Confession: Some days it is just plain hard to get things done.

Am I the only one who sometimes feels like my days are like the book If you Give a Mouse a Cookie?

Not familiar? Let me run it down for you. Basically it is a series of cute kids books that describe a whimsical and funny chain of events that occur when you try to do one thing, but each of the things that you do, leads you into a continuing chain of events that actually preclude you from doing the very thing that you wanted to originally do.... sort of... well, that's how I'm telling it any way.

My husband sometimes wonders why it takes me an entire day to fold a basket of laundry. Yes, one basket. Maybe because what transpires usually goes a little something like this:

Pull clothes from dryer and put in basket. Place basket down on my bed for a second to go help yelling son wipe his butt. Come back to get basket. Notice on the way back to basket that dog has chewed up contents on trash can and strewn them throughout the family room. Start to clean up mess. Phone rings. Answer phone and converse briefly with sister-in-law on other end. What was I doing again? Oh right, folding the clean laundry. Have to finish picking up that mess the dog made first. Go to grab a trash bag. Notice while getting a trash bag from the cabinet that I am out of dish soap. Go to write dish soap on my grocery list. Where is my grocery list? Note that middle child has taken grocery list and turned it into an art project. Follow trail of crayons and markers to her room. Pick up crayons and markers from floor. While picking stuff up from floor notice seven pair of underwear underneath her bed. Remove said underwear and place in hamper (Is it dirty? Probably not, but I'm not taking any chances). What was I doing again? Oh right, folding the clean laundry. Back track down the hall, putting grocery list back, and finishing picking up dog's mess on the way back to where I left that darn laundry basket. Begin to fold laundry. Fold two shirts. Doorbell rings. It's a package. Put package aside. Walk back towards laundry. Here the calls of my son. He wants me to open the box. Spend 5 minutes explaining why I can't open the package it's not addressed to me. Listen to 10 minutes of how he needs said box to complete his fort masterpiece he has been working on for the Fort Olympics. Agree to help him find another box. Locate another box in garage. Oh hey there's more dish soap! Come back to the laundry basket, fold two more shirts... that's 4 if you're playing along at home.  What was I doing again? Hear the bus... here come the other two.  Time for after school snack... homework... dentist appointment.... dinner.... showers.... dishes . Gotta get back to that laundry. Stop to pick up the wet towels. Get everyone ready for bed. Distribute drinks of water to the parched masses. Collapse in a heap on my... oh hey what's that?... the laundry basket!
Better luck tomorrow!
So, which kids book is most like your life?


*Lovingly dedicated to Donna. Why? Well, because she liked it, and I'm that easy, that's why*

Mission Accomplished

Confession: I'm not afraid of as much as I thought I was.

I've always felt afraid. I couldn't really put my finger on what I was afraid of, but I knew I was afraid.
It's funny, when Megan said that you don't even realize it but every day you are faced with confronting your fears- some that you didn't even know that you had- she was so right. Every day facing your fears isn't necessarily about staring down a tarantula or climbing to the top of the Empire State Building. Facing your fears could be as simple (or as complicated) as putting yourself out there, oh say, maybe writing a blog?
I've been trying to think of what I have done in the past few weeks to make myself worthy of Operation Eleanor. I've been racking my brain trying to figure out what my biggest fears are. And I realized that this right here, is right up there. I'm talking real close to the top. Putting myself out there each and every day. The fact that I opened myself up, let my guard down, and put my life out there for anyone and everyone to see, is mind boggling. The fact that I've been doing it for 5 years, astounding.

For me, today, facing one of my fears meant nothing more than posting a blog post.

A life full of Eleanor...

Confession: I am really bad at facing my fears. I'm talking really bad. Really, really, really, horribly, miserably, almightily bad.

Did I mention bad yet? It seems to be a recurring theme. Another recurring theme for me? Eleanors. So let me explain how my fear of fear, and my love of Eleanors mesh.
It's all about facing your fears. I've mentioned how much I love to face my fears, right? And as I found in a visit to Megan's blog the other day, I am not the only one who lacks in the whole confronting your fears head-on department. As a matter of fact, their is a whole slew of us. A big, scardey-cat slew of non fear-facers. And then their is one blogger, who is trying to stare down her fears, and drag us all kicking and screaming with her. Now mind you, this was supposed to be a 30 day endeavor. You know, like tackle a fear that you have every day this month. Even if I had arrived on time, I don't know that I would have the stones to face down 30 fears in 30 days. But, since I came to the party 35 days after it started, I reeeealy didn't have a prayer.

But even though Megan's month-long Operation Eleanor endeavor is technically over, I still feel like I need to face down at least one of my fears. ONE. One, I can surely do. And maybe one will turn into 2. Perhaps 2 into 3.... I mean it's the holiday season- that itself is chock full of fear-facing opportunities, right?

I have to do it. I have to do it because I like and admire Megan. I have to do it because I am an asshole, who despite being a friend of hers on Facebook, a follower on Twitter, and a fairly regular blog reader of hers, did not know until like 3 weeks ago that she was getting a divorce (as of like a YEAR ago).

And I had to do it for Eleanor. For all the Eleanors. Because, I knew as soon as I heard the name of this endeavor that it was right up my alley. Eleanor was my Grandmother, my heart's, name. Eleanor is the middle name of my famous daughter #2. And Eleanor's Angles is our brain tumor Race for Hope team.
So it seems only fitting that I would have to be a part of Operation Eleanor.

So now I will start my own 30 day Operation Eleanor endeavor. I can't promise that you'll hear from me every day, or even every week. What I can promise is that in the next 30 days, I will face at least one of my fears, stare down one of my demons, or do something that makes me otherwise ridiculously uncomfortable.

Stay tuned.....

A Smart Girls Guide to the First Mammogran

Confession: I was so nervous about my first mammogram that I actually dreamt that I got stuck in the machine.
But, you need not experience the same panic. I am here to tell you that it will all be okay.

This will undoubtedly be, hands nips-down the best boobie squishing story you will ever see see today get in the next 3 minutes! Guaranteed or your money back.

You may already know that I had my first mammogram yesterday. I blogged a few weeks back about preparing for my appointment, but turns out I had to postpone that appointment because my son had a cold I'm a big fat chicken! But, yesterday I could put it off no longer.

Really, it wasn't awful. You know I will always give it to you straight. It was weird. It was awkward. It was a little embarrassing and mildly uncomfortable. But, it wasn't painful and I survived. Truthfully, the worst part was the fact that I was old enough to need one.

Of course it helps that I had a nice mammographer (I have no clue if that's what they are called)- and I am pretty good at breaking the ice with people. When I walked into the room she told me that she had to ask me a few questions. I naturally asked her if the first one was, "why are you here since you're clearly too young to be having this procedure?" She laughed, promised to go easy on me, and the rest was history- really, really fast history. The whole thing takes about 3 -5 minutes. And here I give you the a play by play of my visit. It will likely take you longer to read this than it took me to have the whole procedure done.

This is where it all begins. Looks innocent enough.

Presumably this is an exit map so that you can plot your get away. Notice all the lines and arrows drawn on. Obviously they make it look all complicated so that you can't escape. I'm pretty sure there is teeeeny tiiiiny print at the bottom that reads: You're not going anywhere sister!

This rule is obviously made up so you can not call for help!

Look what I get to put on! Ralph Lauren's got nothing on the guy who designed these things, baby. Well, as long as my doctor cares....

In the dressing room.... perhaps a kindly gesture for those who must bring their infants with them? Nope. This is for all the newbies who don't know that you're not supposed to come with deodorant on. Me? I didn't need these because I m smart like that. That and my sister in law asked me if I remembered not to wear deodorant when I dropped my son off to her. Naturally I said, deodorant? Me? Of course not. Then I quickly proceeded to scrub my pits off in the bathroom. 

Uh.... what?

 Wait. You want me to throw my what up on that tray?

At this point, I told the nice woman that she'd better back up if she didn't want to get hurt....

The rest of the procedure is censored for your own protection. Suffice to say that there was no screaming, no yelling, and no mammographers were injured in the process. 

That little clear tray you see? It gets lowered down on top of your girls, one a a time, and gives it a gentle squish. 

A few seconds, a turn here, a turn there, and some funny noises on each side, and ta-da.... done!

I must admit I had no idea they did it one at a time. I thought you just threw those babies up and they lowered the boom! 

What? You didn't think I was actually going to post pictures of my actual mammogram on here did you? Sorry to disappoint. But trust me, it is nothing to worry over. 

It's over and done until next time...