peskypippi.comBecause I have a lot to say…

If you’re needing to look thin, like now, here’s how. Thin, in 6 easy steps:

1. Go outside. Make sure it’s sunny.
2. Find your shadow.
3. Take a picture of your shadow.
4. Bam. Your legs are instantly elongated. And your head is, uh, instantly tiny too.
5. Oh, and by the way, if you have your dog in tow, might as well go for a walk or jog. It can’t hurt!

I highly recommend purchasing a disco ball. It is the must-have accessory for any family or family room.

It turns a Friday night into party Friday night.

Or Thursday. Or Tuesday, for that matter.

Turn on the disco ball, crank up the music, and you’re set. Just add attitude and dance moves.

Parenting children. It makes you do silly things. Especially if you’re kinda silly to begin with.

My seven-year-old son and I were playing in the snow. I pulled some moss off a tree and shoved it up my nose.

“Look, Hon! I’m The Lorax!”

He laughed heartily.

Exactly what I was hoping for.

I’m kinda sick of my negative body image issues.

“But, Pippi! You’ve had three children! Each baby stretched out your belly, like three feet!”

Truth. Reality.

It seems that I am running high on negative body issues and low on self-confidence. It concerns me that my less-than-robust self-confidence will mess with my ability to be a strong role model for my children. How can they grow to be self-confident if I don’t exude self-confidence?

“But, Pippi! You’re always so positive and so happy and so loving! You are a great Mom! Your kids adore you! Your husband loves you! You are surrounded by family and friends who think you’re awesome! You have a great job! And, man, what curly hair!”

Truth. Reality. I am so blessed. What am I even complaining about?

“But, Pippi, happiness is about inner beauty and needs to come from within! And not something you seek outside yourself! You know this!”

I do know this. I am my own hurdle. This. Has. Got. To. Change. I need to change this.

I read an article that brought clarity to my jumbled thoughts. It’s about finding happiness within. Gilbert Ross, the author of the How to Find Happiness, is trying to encourage people to break the negative pattern “I will be happy if…” If I lose 20 lbs…If I get a raise…Whatever the if is, it’s always something. This leaves us feeling empty and sad because we are never gonna be happy until we surpass the next hurdle. And there are always more hurdles. (I know this. I ran track and hurdles back in high school.)

As a first step, I am connecting with these negative feelings and am working to transform them. It is high time that I make peace with myself.

After all, I’m clever. I have a winning smile and personality. Golly, people like me! I have so much to be positive about and thankful for in my life.

So that I can continue to be a glass half-full person, I need to also fill my glass with self-love and self-confidence. One drip at a time.

This is something we all deserve. Fill ‘er up.

I used to know a thing or two about a thing or two. And now I know a thing or three about a thing or three.

See, I’m trying out a few new things in 2013. So far:

1. I got a new hairdo. I added bangs. Old is new again; I had this hairstyle in the 5th grade!
2. I learned how to make balloon animals with my young son. We watched clowns on YouTube. If clowns can do it, I can do it. I can now make dogs and flowers. Booyah!
3. I made my first berry cobbler. It was delicious. Then I made another. You can see where this diet is going…
4. I went through my closet and grabbed, assessed, and dumped; thus getting rid of 1/5 of my clothes. Read here for that.
5. I tried my first sweet potato fries. Yum!
6. I’m running 4x a week with my large puppy in tow (or the other way around…whatever). This is a must given all the dang cobbler and sweet potato fries I’ve eaten this year.

See? You CAN teach an old dog new tricks.

Andy Warhol once said “I think everybody should like everybody.”

Yeah…that’s not possible.

So I edited it.

“I think everybody should like everybody on Christmas.”

-Pippi

Merry Christmas!

Yeah, yeah. I’ve joked about buying granny panties.

But see, the thing is, I often swing by the juniors department and pick up some pick-me-up panties. You know the ones I’m talking about.

So sexy! And fun!

And…tiny. They ride up too high in back and sit too low at my waist.

But who cares if they’re not comfortable? That’s not the point.

I have one pair with dice all over them. Dice?! As in “maybe I’ll get lucky” if I wear these.

Talk about sexy. Vegas, baby!

You know when you’re about to give a speech in front of a big crowd of people and you’re nervous? It is suggested that if you imagine the crowd in their undies, you won’t be as nervous. Yeah. So picture me in those dice undies. And have a laugh at my expense. At my lucky undies expense.

‘Tis the season to be thankful. Thankful for dirty dishes? Thankful for eye wrinkles?

Dude! It’s all in the way you look at things. I am thankful for:

1. Dirty dishes. We always have plenty of food.
2. Sand in my car. My car reliably transports us to the beach.
3. Dog fur on my clothes. My puppy loves to cuddle.
4. Expensive grocery store bills. My kids have good appetites.
5. Long work hours. I have a good job.
6. An errand to Home Depot. It’s a date with my husband.
7. Being a chauffeur. My kids have interests.
8. A noisy house. My family is thriving.
9. Dirty soccer cleats. My kids are active.
10. Gloomy, rainy days. The grass is always green.
11. Piles of dirty laundry. I am needed.
12. Stepping on Legos with bare feet. My kids are creative.
13. My mortgage. My house is my home.
14. My children yelling. They are normal.
15. My slow-ass jogging skills. I am trying.
16. Eye wrinkles. Lots of smiling and laughing going on.
17. Exhaustion. My life is full.

Life. Health. Family. Love. Abundance. To be needed. I am thankful for it all.

Mean People Suck…and I am one of them.

I have a “Mean People Suck” bumper sticker on my car. I put it on because I had wanted to make a “nice” statement. As in: “don’t be an asshole.” I don’t like when people are condescending and rude and overly-critical. I don’t like when people put me down just so they feel better.

When the sticker went on, my husband eye-rolled and thought I was being cheerleadery. Give me an N. Give me an I. Give me a C. Give me an E.

My children liked it because, well, anytime you can say “suck” is just plain fun.

I like to be nice. I treat people nicely. I teach my kids to be nice.

But who am I kidding? Lately, I haven’t been acting that nice. Here are a few examples from this week alone:

• I bought a new purse. I took it for a spin. That same evening, my Chipotle rice bowl tipped over and spilled salsa throughout my new purse. In all the nooks and crannies. Was I pissed! I wiped the purse down but the smell wouldn’t come out. So I returned the salsa-purse to Macy’s the next day. Hoping the sales clerk didn’t take a sniff. Net: mean.
• I bought groceries at Safeway. The cashier asked if I wanted to “round up” for breast cancer. I answered, “no thank you.” What??!! I said no to finding a cure for breast cancer? Net: mean.
• There was an elderly woman trying to cross the street. She was standing on the corner waiting for the traffic to ease up. I was late picking up my son from tumbling class so I didn’t stop for her. What a bitch thing to do. Net: mean.

So guess what? I took that Mean People Suck bumper sticker off my car. I didn’t want to be a hypocrite. And, really, I couldn’t stand the pressure of being nice all the time. Maybe a better bumper sticker for me is:

It’s OK for Nice People To Be Mean, Sometimes

What would your bumper sticker say?

You may see a pile of brown bananas. I see ingredients for banana bread.

You may see overgrown hair on my child’s head. I see potential for gelled sculptures.

You may see heaps of laundry that need folding. I see colorful clothes that helped us work hard and play hard.

You may see toothpaste globs on our bathroom sink. I see pretty, white teeth smiling at me.

You may see sand in my car. I remember that fantastic beach trip last month.

You may see blankets strewn on our sofas. I see cuddles in front of movies.

You may see dog hair on my wood floors. I see lots of dog-loving going on.

You may see fingerprints on my refrigerator. I see self-sufficient kids making their own snacks.

You may see bins overflowing in my attic. I see Christmas lights, Halloween costumes, Easter baskets, and camping supplies.

You may see muddy soccer cleats. I see a game well played.

You may hear a garbage disposal full of popcorn kernels. I hear the leftover fun from movie night.

You may look at me and see chaos. I look at myself and see a full life.

You may see a glass half empty. I see a glass half full…and make mine a beer, please.