peskypippi.comBecause I have a lot to say…

I have a pretty high tolerance for the gross, bizarre, and inappropriate.

However, my conversation with Barbie raised some TMI (too much information) eyebrows.

Last weekend, Barbie groomed my eyebrows at the brow bar. I had been there before because Barbie is a pro. Except her name isn’t actually Barbie, but it might as well have been with her long blonde hair, blue eyes, tan in the winter, perfectly groomed brows, perfectly fake breasts, thin body.

While she was waxing my brows, we started chatting.

About the new recipes we tried. Barbie likes to make Chicken Cordon Bleu.

About her commute. She drives 40 minutes to work.

About her new apartment. And her boyfriend. And how he just bought her a head-to-toe laser hair removal treatment.

Whoa!

But then Barbie kept talking about the procedure. In detail. Including the Brazilian.

TMI, Barbie!

“I’ll never have to shave again!” she exclaimed.

Yeah, thanks for the visual.

Looks can be deceiving. And eye opening.

The last time I took my kids swimming, it was: Splash! Slide! Marco Polo!

“You be the dolphin, I’ll be the shark!”

It was non-stop fun!

Another Mom caught my eye. She was a total hottie and was rocking her bikini. I stared. I couldn’t help it. She had a perfect body. I was instantly jealous.

Me? I was wearing my tankini. And, yeah, appropriately named. I kinda looked like a tank. But whatever.

The other Mom? She was gripping the pool’s edge. Not splashing. Or sliding. Or Marco Polo’ing. Or playing shark-eats-dolphin.

Why not??

I continued to glance over. What was her deal? Were her eyes sad? Wistful? I could feel her eyes on me. Was she watching me splash and play?

And then.

After the kids and I changed and piled into the car, I saw the bikini woman in the parking lot. Her face had a pained look; she was hurting. I now saw that she had M.S. and walked with a cane.

Wow.

It was truly eye opening. My jealousy instantly vanished. And like the Grinch, my compassion grew three sizes that day.

I often wonder if I have enough friends. Enough of a support network. Enough pals to pal around with. Enough people to share stories with. Enough friends to connect with.

Yeah, I’ve got friends. Friends I knew since I was in school. Soccer friends. Family friends. Parents of my kids’ friends. Family. Facebook friends. Twitter friends. Neighbor friends.

But there are few friends that I can really talk to. About real stuff. When you need someone to listen. To be supportive. To share.

The other day, one of my friends and I hung out while our kids played, giving us lots of time to talk. Really talk. About raising our kids. About our spouses. About weight. About juggling and balance. About problems and challenges. About life.

It made me think, how many friends do you need?

Sometimes you just need one.

Here is one of my all-time favorite songs (I know this is not the original, but it’s the one I know):

Going bra shopping these days is like a candy shop for your boobs. Purple polka dots. Leopard. Hot pink. Aqua. Flowery. Zig-zag. Stripes. Checkered. Lacy. Silky.

• The colors!
• The choices!
• The fun!

It’s like a boobylicious party. I wrote a previous post about bra shopping here: It’s the Bra Stupid.

It’s amazing how much a new bra makes you feel so much better about yourself. With my new purchases, my boobs are now back in my peripheral vision.

You may be wooed or disgusted by the labels…Age Defying Lift…Extreme Ego Boost…Attention Thief…Over Achiever…and my favorite: Prepare to Stop Traffic.

As for me?

I may need to change my name from Pesky Pippi to Perky Pippi. #justsaying

When is it time to lose the weight you gained during pregnancy?

Well, my “baby” just turned seven years old. Tick tock.

I’ve been yo-yo’ing these past years. And now it’s time to ditch the yo-yo. And ditch the muffin top (darn those low-waisted jeans). My muffin top runneth over…

I want to BE like Buddha. Not LOOK like Buddha.

If your brows are looking a little bushy. And your upper lip is looking a little moustache-y. You might be rocking the Lorax look.

And if you live in Lorax land, you’ll fit right in. By I live in the Land of Milk and Honey. And we don’t let our women look Lorax-y.

So it might be time to waxy your Lorax-y.

Pippi visited the scary wax lady today. Scary because ya don’t really want to come out looking like Tammy Faye. But when they greeted me like Grandmother greeted the wolf, with “My what bushy eyebrows you have,” I knew I was in for a waxalicious treat.

She used so much wax, I thought it was it was Hanukkah.

We are days away from Valentine’s Day. Do you have Valentine’s Day expectations?

Jewelry stores tell us we need diamonds. Florists tell us we need oversized bouquets. Grocery stores tell us we need heart balloons. Chocolate shops tell us we need heart-shaped boxes with chocolates. Lingerie shops tell us we need red bustiers and up-your-crack thongs. Drugstores tell us we need stuffed gorillas with hearts that say “Wild Thing.”

Do we need any of this crap on February 14? Yeah, we do. If our significant others come home Valentine’s Day night with nothing, we be pissed.

We need something.

• I don’t need diamonds; I prefer costume jewelry.
• I don’t need oversized bouquets; I like carnations just fine.
• I don’t need balloons; my kids will fight over them.
• I do need chocolate; but I buy my own and hide it.
• I don’t need red lingerie; I prefer jammy pants and t-shirts (sexy, I know).
• And I certainly don’t need a stuffed gorilla for my husband to proclaim his love for me.

If my husband comes home Valentine’s Day night with some carnations and several boxes full of Thai take-out dinner for our family, that’s the “something” I would love on Valentine’s Day. Pad Thai anyone?

So, I go to the Lancome make-up counter during my lunch break to buy some new eyeshadow.

The make-up girl was unhelpful and a little rude. She boldly suggests that I try the intense anti-wrinkle serum…for extreme wrinkles. Extreme wrinkles?! “Maybe you should try the intense anti-wrinkle serum,” she suggests.

Dude! I know I’ve got some wrinkles around the eyes. Don’t you think I see them every day? Dude! I have big cheeks that go up when I smile and laugh. Too much LOLing, I guess.

I don’t need an orangey-tanned make-up sales tot reminding me. Uh, maybe you should try a college education?

I am reminded of the classic scene in Fried Green Tomatoes when Kathy Bates gets “Towanda” power and bashes into the young woman’s car in the parking lot, exclaiming “I’m older and I have more insurance.” Ugh. Have I turned into Kathy Bates?

Maybe next time, I’ll just visit my gesties (gay besties) at the MAC make-up counter. At least they don’t say mean things to my wrinkled face.

I high-fived a stranger. And it kinda made my day. And maybe hers.

I went to the craft store to buy a heart wreath for the front door–Shut The Front Door, Valentine’s Day is around the corner!

This older woman–looking a bit lonely–was also picking out a heart wreath. I struck up a conversation with her, in typical Pippi fashion. Because I talk to strangers. All the time.

Which wreath did she want to buy? Did she like pink or red best? Or maybe the glittery magenta would be fun.

She couldn’t decide. She thought a small one would be nice because she lives in a condo. Then I asked her which one I should buy. She thought magenta would be fun.

Turns out we both decided on a magenta/hot pink glittery wreath. I was so excited, I high-fived her.

I caught her a little off guard (at first). Then she smiled. I made my purchase, then skipped to my car with a smile on my face.

Two strangers made a connection at a craft store. Spread the joy!

Do you ever hear people say, “Twitter?? I don’t have time for Twitter. How do YOU find time for Twitter?!” (And they say it all condescending like.)

What?!

You don’t HAVE time for Twitter? Or you don’t MAKE time for Twitter?

In our crazy-busy-complicated lives, we need connections. We need friends. I make time for Twitter because:

• I make friends all over the world. Literally. United States, Canada, Ireland, England, France, Malaysia, Australia.
• I connect with people with similar interests and have real conversations (short ones) about family life chaos, poop talk, motherhood juggling and jiggling, and stuff.
• I can be myself. Others don’t judge, but instead, offer support and give validation.
• I LOL every single day.

I have found that my Twitter friends say the nicest things. Check out some Tweets:

@samminicho: How is my favourite American lady this evening.  I adore your smile, it always brightens my day. XXX

@LulyShahabudin: I think ur a fantastic mom.

@TheBernieBrand: I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again…PIPPI IS A LEGEND!!!

@donovanshaw: #youmakemesmileeveryday

@thatgirl815 I think you’re just the greatest!!!

Gosh, with nice Tweeps like those, how can you go wrong?

So if you don’t have time for Twitter, well, it #suckstobeyou.