IMG_20141126_212612I’m no lyrical gangsta. Seriously.  I used to be.  I used to know every word to every song I loved and then somewhere along the way it all went to pieces.  I think I just got distracted and a bit deaf.    I love to sing along.  I pick up most words pretty quickly so that I can at least mumble/hum through it until I get it right.  I am in the car alone a lot so most of the time there is no audience for my inaccurate sing-alongs.  A lot of the time I ride with my girl, who if not singing along with me, will often mid-song, look at me and just sadly shake her head.  She corrects me occasionally, but I think she also enjoys my crazy adlibs and leaves me to my own devices for her own entertainment.  Two of my latest lyrical mishaps are as follows:

Jealous – Nick Jonas

He says: I turn my chin music up, and I’m puffing my chest, I’m getting red in the face, you can call me obsessed.

I sing: I turn my cheap music up, and I’m puffing my chest, I’m getting ready to face you, can call me obsessed.

I think my version is better.  What the heck is chin music anyway?  Seriously? If you know, please leave me an answer in the comments.

Break Free – Ariana Grande

She says: This is the part where I say I don’t want ya, I’m stronger than I’ve been before. This is the part where I break free, cause I can’t resist it no more.

I sing:  This is the part where I say I don’t wanna, I’m stronger than I’ve been before.  This is the part where I play it sweet, cause I can’t resist him no more.

Obviously, I would have been in better shape for getting the lyrics right if I had known the name of the song.  Insert red-faced emoji here.  Also, Ariana, while having a very beautiful voice, is not much of an enunciator.  😉

All of this to say, if you hear me singing along, and it sounds like I am singing a different song, I probably am, and I’m okay with it.  So if you aren’t, just move along or put your earbuds in.


Getting our Zumba on

My 15 year old daughter just got a gym membership at the same gym my husband and I belong to. We took a look at the group exercise classes and picked a few that we thought might be fun to try out together. The first one that jumped out at us was Zumba. For those of you that haven’t tried it yet, Zumba is a latin dance inspired workout. Or as I like to call it, the perfect way to embarrass your teenage daugther.

This morning we tried out our first class. We had a bit of a debate about what to wear, and decided on lululemon t-shirts and she wore leggings and I wore shorts. We got to the gym and had to ask where the class was held and someone even walked us right there so we had no opportunities for backing out or running away. A body pump class was just finishing and they had so many things to put away that we both decided to skip that one. Seemed like a lot of work.

We told our Zumba instructor that we were new to the class and had no clue. She was super nice, gorgeous, ebullient, and welcoming. We were off to a good start.

I have three things going for me, where Zumba is concerned:
– I have great cardio from all the running
– I love latin music
– I am very enthusiastic.

Things I do NOT have going for me that it turns out are quite critical to the Zumba experience:
– Any latin dance experience
– rhythm
– the ability to move my legs in one direction, swivel my hips, and shake my arms around, ALL AT THE SAME TIME.

We laughed so much during the class. Whenever I met my girl’s eyes, we dissolved into giggles at my lack of coordination. Everytime I felt like I mastered a step, we moved to a new step. Usually while I was still doing the first step with large amounts of enthusiasm. Our instructor was lovely and kept seeing us be a disaster and then saying “Okay, let’s break this one down” and explaining it slowly.

Overall, we survived the class, definitely enjoyed the music and atmosphere. We’ll definitely go back and try to get better at this. We think the best plan of attack is to watch a couple of youtube videos on basic Zumba steps before next Saturday. And let’s be honest, whenever no one was looking and I couldn’t figure out the steps, I just jumped around and shimmied and hoped for the best!

Wordless Wednesday

Big news in our house this Monday…my 12 year old finally grew out of his egg allergy. This is a shot of him eating his first doughnut EVER from Tim Horton’s. The shot is blurry as I couldn’t get him to stop eating it long enough to get a good picture…Do you remember your first bite of doughnut ever?

First donut ever...

First doughnut ever…

The Fitted Sheet Club

Would someone please invite me to join The Fitted Sheet Club?  I know there is one.  I so desperately want to be a part of it too.  Let me be one of the cool kids!  Some of you are wondering what the heck I am talking about.  You are obviously not part of the club.  Let me explain.

Late at night, while most of us have passed out from the exhaustion of spending hours trying to fold a freaking fitted sheet, there exists a very select club of people who are laughing their asses off at the rest of us.  They quickly work their sheet folding magic and then recline on silken throws, while mythical creatures feed them grapes.

We all know who the members of this club are. They’re the women who knowingly nod sympathetically at you when you complain yet again about never figuring out how to fold a fitted sheet properly.  “I’ll show you later,” they say.  “Later” never quite comes does it?  “I’ll send you a link to a youtube video,” they say.  The link either doesn’t work, or leaves you more confused than before you watched it.  It is all part of the secret code of the club.  They aren’t allowed to let the rest of us mere mortals in on the secret, so we are left with our faces pressed against the crack of their linen closet door trying to decipher how they have achieved such perfection.

So, again, I beg, I plead, please let me into the club?