peskypippi.comBecause I have a lot to say…

Whether you have breasts like nectarines, onions, or butternut squash (no judgement here)–or somewhere in between–experts recommend getting a mammogram starting at age 40. Or earlier if you have a family history of breast cancer.

Here’s a good link with facts about how mammograms save lives.

Even Pippi had a mammogram just the other day.

Let me tell you, it was fun!

Well, maybe not fun fun, as in let’s-go-have-some-margaritas fun, but definitely not bad. Here’s what happens:

1. You take off your clothes on top, wipe off your deodorant, and put on a lovely gown with a snap (oh and openings on the side, so you really hang out).

2. In the imaging room, the mammogram technician helps place one of your breasts onto the platter. And you grab onto the handle while this machine smashes your breast flat as a pita, while the technician clicks an image (maybe to put on Facebook?) and tells you to hold your breath for like 3 seconds. Easy peasy.

3. Repeat on the other side. You don’t want that breast to feel left out.

4. Then you do a side breast smash for each breast. Click (say cheese).

5. Then you’re done.

6. It takes about 8 minutes for the procedure altogether. And you have the chance to chit-chat with the technician while you’re standing there with your snap unsnapped and your breasts are hanging out. #awkward

But no pain, just a little pressure. You can handle it! Schedule your mammogram today. And when you do, tell them Pippi sent you.

I made three babies. And I have had five unexpected body changes as a result:

1. Bigger feet. Yep, they grew a half a size. Time to go shoe shopping!
2. Belly roll. Gotta tuck it into my jeans.
3. Jaw that clicks. Giving birth to one of my children resulted in my jaw clicking and popping. Permanently.
4. Breasts. Breasts permanently increased a full cup size. Woohoo! But now they require a fork lift.
5. Heart bursting with love. Enough said.

Change is good.

Is that spinach in your smoothie, or are you happy to see me?

I wrote about the ease and nutrition of protein breakfast smoothies awhile back. Check that here. My newest ingredient? Spinach. Yeah, you heard me. They are officially renamed to Pippi’s Peppy Popeye Smoothies. These nutrition-packed suckers are perfect for when I am running late. Getting the kids out the door for school. And oops, I forgot one of my earrings. And my navy tights don’t match my black outfit. And where is my phone and where are my keys? Time to go. NOW.

But wait! Don’t forget to eat your salad for breakfast! (Seriously, you can’t even taste it. It just looks a teensy bit gaggy.) You, too, can buzz up the smoothie while yelling “Hurry! Time to go! Finish your breakfast! Brush your teeth! Shoes on! Jackets! Backpacks!”

Just talk to my friend Sara, who also sneaks in vegetables. She’s on Twitter @Sar_Wah and her blog is http://www.tisthelife.com/. She’s a super healthy Mum who tries to eat right and have a fulfilling life. Go Sara!

Pippi’s Peppy Popeye Smoothies

• a blender
• a cup or so of nonfat milk
• a banana
• big scoop or 2 Tbs. protein powder (preferably plain)
• handful of frozen blueberries
• two ginormous handfuls of washed, fresh spinach

Check out the jumbo bag of spinach. I don’t know whether to eat it. Or sleep on it.

Breakfast is important. Partake! And maybe, with the added spinach, you can kick some ass today.

I took my kids to the indoor community pool yesterday. It was eye opening. I saw:

• More crack than a DEA agent
• Bodies more doughy than a doughnut shop
• Sizes resembling Fat Bastard in Austin Powers

I also saw:

• Hairy men proudly holding bald, laughing babies
• Old women in swim skirts doing power laps
• Parents testing out their newly-acquired waterproof cameras on their newly-aquatic infants

What did people think when they took a peek at me–with my unshaven legs (whoopsidaisy) and chipped toenail polish–acting loony as ever? There I was, playing dolphins with my daughter: squeaking and begging for fish. And bolting down the water slide with my youngest son on my fleshy lap. Woohoo!

Whatever.

We were all just people. All sizes and shapes. All ages. All styles. All behaviors. And we were going for it! Exercising. Splashing. Laughing.

Better than the losers simply watching from the viewing deck. Pools are for getting wet. Boo on merely spectating.

Uh, no, today it’s a blueberry. I drink protein-packed blueberry smoothies for breakfast, ya know. Recipe here.

So how about those pesky food particles that get stuck in your teeth? Blueberry skins, black beans, broccoli, spinach… Are you rocking the hillbilly look?

Take my friend Jen (@buriedwithkids and http://www.buriedwithchildren.com/) and her recent Tweet:

Nothing like walking around for a couple hours with a big black bean skin in your teeth. #classy #thanksguys

Common courtesy, y’all. Tell a woman (even a stranger) if she has something in her teeth.

Or if her dress is tucked into her tights, exposing her butt.

Or if her lipstick is smudged or her mascara is smeared.

Or if her hair is sticking straight up, giving her that crazed look. (Whoopsidaisy. Maybe that’s just me.)

But for goodness sake, just don’t tell a woman that she looks tired. Chances are, this, she knows.

Remember that old commercial? You don’t? Well, I do. It’s from Pantene shampoo, you Silly Goose. Here it is on YouTube to jog your memory:

Well, the other day, I was a bitch. Straight out. Of all places, at Nordstrom. At the Clinique make-up counter, where all things are supposed to be beautiful. My bad attitude was, uh, not beautiful.

Mean to a salesperson on purpose. Sorry. I just felt like it.

So, it was pretty stupid, really. I was there to return some cream. OK, it was anti-wrinkle cream. It was expensive. And they sold me the wrong kind for the wrong skin type. It’s hard for me to find the time to drive to the mall where they sell Clinique, so when I had gotten home and realized they sold me the wrong product and that I would have to go back to make a return, I was perturbed. And THEN, when I went back, they were out of the product I needed and said they could mail it to me. In about 10 days. Meanwhile, I could feel the lines on my face emerging. Like red cracking clay in Australia. You get the picture.

So I threw a little hissy fit right on the spot. Saying how this was unacceptable. That they should not be out of stock. And that it was their mistake in the first place. And that they should mail me the right anti-wrinkle cream pronto. And that they need to give me enough samples to last me until the package arrived.

Well, they listened. And I felt great for my throwing my tantrum. For a little while.

Then on my drive home, I felt guilty. Is it worth being a bitch in the first place if you’re gonna just feel guilty about it? I have enough Mother Guilt going on, thank you very much.

A friend once said to me, “You’re always soooo nice.” And I’m like, “I’m not as nice as you think.” But the reality is, yeah I am usually pretty nice. But that’s exactly the reason why we nice people need to blurt out things once in awhile and be not-so-nice once in awhile. Because things piss me off. And I don’t want to hold them in. Every time. For example: When I’m driving. When someone puts me or my family down. When my kids bicker and won’t shut up. When people create hassles for me and I have to go out of my way to fix things. When people are righteous and condescending and they think they are better than me. (Righteous people suck, by the way.) Or, maybe when people look down at me (ala the movie Pretty Woman) when I am shopping for clothes or make-up. And maybe I’m-simply-stopping-in-real-quick-after-soccer-or-football-whatever-you-want-to-call-it-and-maybe-I’m-looking-like-a-sweaty-hag-but-does-that-give-others-a-right-to-look-down-on-me-and-treat-me-like-I-am-not-worthy?

I sometimes don’t want to be nice all the time. And I am worthy (sweat and soccer/football shin guards on and all). And so are you. Except if you are condescending to others. I don’t think those people are as worthy because people who put down others just to pump themselves up? No like.

Oh, and about being beautiful, don’t bother looking for me when you type “most beautiful women” into Google. I may not be the first page when you search. But if you keep scrolling and hit “next page,” I think we all are there somewhere.

If I am driving in traffic. Or shuttling my kids. And they are already bickering in the back seat. The last thing I want is to hear Barney singing.

I know that Barney delivers a positive message. He is kind and loving and teaches kids to share. But I am actually a Barney hater.

But here are four children’s CDs I love to play in the car with the kids. Over and over.

• Free to Be You and Me is a classic. I loved it as a child, growing up in feminism-power times, and still love it. My kids and I love to sing this song in particular, at the top of our lungs: “Parents Are People.” The messages are still powerful: be yourself, gender equality, and breaking through stereotypes. Although some of the lyrics are a little dated about job equality because today, women are Secretary of State and men work at the MAC make-up counter. Talk about role reversal.

• Really Rosie is another classic from my childhood. Even though it was a vinyl record then. (Nostalgia, right?) The song we love love love to sing loudly is “Alligators All Around.” It’s snappy and it teaches the alphabet. I still clearly remember that  “H” is for “Having Headaches.” Maybe from listening to this song so many times. Play it. Over and over. And trust me, your young children will learn their letters and get an intro to phonics.

• Picnic Playground is by Putumayo and has upbeat songs in different languages. It exposes children to global traditions. And maybe your kids will pick up a few new words in other languages. I like the “Arroz con Pollo” song. Who doesn’t like chicken and rice for dinner? And the South African song “Beautiful Day” is simply beautiful and happy.

• Animal Playground, another CD in the global children’s collection by Putumayo. Every song is a winner. From “The Littlest Birds” to “Don’t Ever Step on a Snake.” And my favorite one that always gets a little tear from me is “Eagles.” About how Mothers need to let their children fly (roots and wings).

But until my children are ready to leave the nest, we will sing these songs at the top of our lungs as we fly down the freeway, late for something.