Kristann Monaghan's Blog, page 9

I Am Not “Just A Nurse”

I am sure you might have heard a small ripple in social media over the last 24 hours about the Miss America pageant and Miss Colorado, Kelley Johnson, who beautifully gave a monologue about being “just a nurse”.  I am also quite sure you may have heard a bigger ripple caused by the ladies on The View for making fun of her and putting down the 3.3 million men and women who call nursing their profession….I am one of them.  And I am not “just a nurse”.

I applaud Miss Johnson in coming out on a beauty pageant stage, dressed in scrubs, to talk about her talent.  While the ladies on The View might not see this as a talent, being a nurse does take quite a lot of talent.  It takes talent to put a urinary catheter in a patient that is combative…to find a vein in a chunky baby….to know what to say to a family that is losing a person close to them.  All of these things take talent.  And it took bravery for Miss Johnson to say so.  You see, we are not just nurses.  We are the people who give up weekends, holidays, birthdays, kids events at school and even sleep to be with you when you need us the most.  And we wouldn’t have it any other way.  We gladly sacrifice these things to do our job.  We are the ones who are in your hospital room probably more than you would like and we often come home feeling like we need Silkwood showers to disinfect ourselves.  While you ladies on The View are sitting around, drinking coffee, getting paid millions to be on TV with your uneducated viewpoints, nurses are getting paid to get puked on, slip in blood during a trauma, witness things that most people would feel are the horrors of the world, and hold people’s hands while they die so they know they are not alone.  I, personally, have never seen your show because I work nights.  That is right.  While you are sleeping, I am working from 7pm to 7am keeping children alive.  Some nights I don’t even have time to go potty, let alone get a cup of coffee, but that is ok by me.  Some nights the docs don’t even come on the unit, so guess who is here with all the sick kids?  The nurses. Yup.  Do you work almost 13 hours only to come back again every day? I think not.  Nurses do.  Every damn day.

I love being a nurse.  Absolutely love it.  I salute all people who want to become a nurse.  It is the hardest profession you will ever love.  You get yelled at, swore at, swung at and even spit on.  As for wearing a “doctor’s stethoscope”, well that is a tool of the trade my friends…and not just one doctor’s use.  They are used by nurses, respiratory therapists, techs, EMT’s, paramedics and doctors.  I don’t know how many doctors I have heard come into the unit and ask to borrow someone’s “ears” meaning the nurse’s stethescope because they don’t have one with them.   You might think of scrubs as a “costume” but I can guarantee you that none of us look like the Halloween version of our profession.  We are NOT “naughty nurses”.  We don’t wear shirts showing our cleavage or high-heeled shoes.  These costumes are also insulting to me.  We wear scrubs so we can squat down to empty a catheter bag full of urine and so we can sweat our butts off doing chest compressions to save a person’s life.  Nursing involves a lot of sweat.  Lifting a 300 lb person to turn them is no easy feat.  Some nights running to the ED to save a child’s life makes me sweat more than I do when I am working out.  Why?  Because my adrenaline is pumping, my heart is racing and I am praying I don’t have to hold a parent as their child dies tonight.  These are all thoughts that race through my mind as I sweat in my scrubs….my “costume” that keeps me cool as I am just a nurse. And as for wearing high heels…well one night slipping in blood, puke or feces and you would rethinking your choice of footwear rather quickly.  TV shows don’t even do our jobs justice.  Grey’s Anatomy shows all these doctor’s doing things the in reality nurses do….quit trying to steal our shit!  Quit degrading nurses and what they do.  We don’t just wipe butts and pass meds.  You know how the doctor miraculously shows up when you are having a medical crisis?  That is because the NURSE called the doc.  For reals.  Let’s quit trying to pretend it is the docs at the bedside 24/7 because it isn’t true….so TV land, try to get it right one of these days would ya?

Nurses are amazing people.  We keep our emotions in check to do our jobs.  You might not know it, but when your child dies and I am their nurse, I hurt too.  You might not ever see my tears.  They flow usually in the bathroom, my car driving home and most frequently in the shower.  Want to know why?  Because I need to be there for the family who just lost their child.  I need to hold their hands, hug them and help them decide on hard decisions like funeral homes and organ donation.  To put down a whole profession of some of the most amazing caring people I have ever known is disgusting. But I am not “just a nurse”.   As a PICU nurse, I am a singer (and not always on key) to distract an IV being placed, a comedienne to cheer up a chronically ill child, a counselor to listen to a teenager tell me why they tried to commit suicide, a cheerleader when a patient is able to take a step for the first time on their own after a major trauma, and sometimes a superhero to a 4-year-old because I can hear their “heart beeps” with my stethoscope.  These are all of what I am.  THIS is what nursing is about.  THIS is what nurses do.  If this is what you call being “just a nurse”, then I am proud to be just that….a nurse.  Fellow nurses, #showmeyourstethoscope!  We are nurses…what is your superpower?

So ladies at The View….I challenge you to follow in a nurse’s footsteps for one 12 hour shift and see what it is we really do.  I am sure then you could do it too since it isn’t a talent.  Oh wait…you need a college degree to do what we do.  My bad.

Oh yeah.  I didn’t die today.  I felt the need to defend my profession but I didn’t die.  I am Fat Girl proud to be “just a nurse” Running.  The experiment continues…

A Different Response To The Fat Shaming Video And BIG News

I have a few things to say this week so a random post it is.  I have some big news so stay tuned….I promise to get to it in a bit.  And by big, I mean HUGE!  But first, I need to just give my 2 cents about this latest YouTube video that is going around that you might have heard about….the Nicole Arbour video in which she does the worst thing possible to Fat Girls around the world. She fat shames them.  I am not going to post the link to the “Dear Fat People” video  (which she claims is comedy) but I am going to take a minute and discuss it.  There have been many rebuttals about this video, but I want to do mine in my own way so keep reading.

I came across her video on FB where someone had posted it and I was horrified.  As a Fat Girl, this is EXACTLY the type of bullying we seek to avoid.  There is no place for bullying and Nicole Arbour is just that….a bully.  I don’t care if she thinks that was comedy because it was not.  It was bullying.  It was fat shaming (and yes, Ms. Arbour, that is a “thing”) plain and simple.  We should stand up for any type of body shaming in this world because this is what leads most young men and women to have body image issues to begin with….it doesn’t matter if you are fat, thin, short, tall, brown, white, or anything at all….your body is perfect.  Please do not use somebody’s weight as a way to judge them and Ms. Arbour did.  That is disgusting.  She claims she is trying to get people to lose weight, but if she had an ounce of intelligence in her brain, she would have done her research and found that body shaming actually produces the opposite effect and has caused many teenagers to actually kill themselves.  Ms. Arbour, I hope that no one kills themselves because you think they need to have “fat people” parking spaces in the back of the parking lot and because you called them “Jabba the Hutt”.  I only hope that they can read this:  YOU ARE LOVED.  Your body does not define you.  The numbers on a scale are just that…numbers.  They do not tell the world about your capacity to love or your ability to do greatness.  Please read this post and love yourself for one thing today.  Today I choose to love myself for my ability to write.  My ability to potentially reach all those offended and hurt by Ms. Arbour’s words and so-called comedy of body shaming.  Write this down on a post it and put it on your bathroom mirror.  YOU ARE SPECIAL.  No matter what your body looks like, do not let anyone tell you different.  Hold your head up and know that at least one person loves you for you….ME.  Words can hurt, no matter what anyone says, and they can leave a lasting impression, especially in this social media driven world we now live in.  So let’s turn this around and show her what beauty truly looks like.  Tweet or FB or Instagram (links here on the blog) me a selfie with the hashtags #dontjudge, #thefatgirlrunning #noshamingonlybodylove and let’s prove her wrong.  Let’s show Ms. Arbour that beauty comes in all shapes, sizes and colors and we are proud of who we are…no matter what!  Viva La Fat Girl Revolution!

Now that I am off my soapbox….let’s get down to the BIG news.  If you follow me on the Tweeter or FB then you might have heard (and if you don’t then you should!!) that Book 3 in The Running Experiment is due to come out probably by the end of the year!!  So gear up to start your new year off right….with laughter and plenty of adventures of me and BFF!!  I even have a cover to reveal to you.  I will let you guess who named the book….the ever funny BFF of course.  Here ya go!  Drum roll please…..

Book 3 coming soon to a store near you!!

I hope you all are as excited and thrilled as I am that InknBeans is taking yet another chance on this Fat Girl.  I also hope you like this cover as much as I do…they have one fantastic art elf over there!!

Oh yeah.  I didn’t die today.  I did however, hopefully, spread some love over this fat shaming video but I didn’t die.  I am Fat Girl who is proud, loved and has Book 3 coming out Running!  The experiment continues…

The Fat Girl And Humidity….Two Things That Should NOT Mix

There are two things that do not go well together…..The Fat Girl and heat with humidity.  Unfortunately, these two things came together on this last visit to Disneyland because we chose to go in the summer.  It was gross.  You have to remember, we come from Arizona where there is not this thing called humidity.  I swear humidity makes it feel even hotter than without it.  I mean, yes, in Phoenix it can be over 100 degrees and feel like an oven but I can’t even imagine that temperature with humidity.  I am pretty sure that people could not survive.  Anticipating this change for us, BFF and I were somewhat prepared as we packed tank tops, light weight shirts, and no dark colors.  As we hit the park, however, I realized quite quickly that I was not prepared for what humidity would do to me.  These two things really should not mix.

It literally took just a few moments for me to feel the heat as we walked into the park.  It felt so oppressive.  I am pretty sure I started to sweat not too soon after we started walking to ride our first ride.  As the day wore on, it felt hotter and hotter, which meant one thing…I sweated more and more.  There was sweat in places there should not be sweat.  There was sweat in my fat rolls.  If you do not have fat rolls, then you do not understand how miserable this can make you feel.  You see, when your sweat gets in your fat rolls, you feel as if you are swimming in a pool of your own bodily secretions in places that should not feel wet.  Then there is the problem of what then happens….your shirt sticks to you and the excreted bodily function then leaves a most unpleasant wet spot on your clothes as if to say “Look here!  This is a Fat Girl and here is her fat roll!  Just in case you could not see it, I have conveniently outlined it for your viewing pleasure!”  It is really quite embarrassing.  As if I didn’t already feel fat enough with my shirt sticking to me, now there are wet spots outlining my fat rolls.  Just great.

Do you like how I even found a Disney meme? I have some serious skills

Another thing that happens when you are sweating like a whore in church, is that eventually you have to pee because you guzzling fluids like they are going out of style.  This requires somehow peeling off your denim capris that have now formed a sort of second skin to your legs.  I mean, I could have just peed through them I guess.  No one would have been the wiser.  Or even better, I should have gone and ridden a water ride and just peed my pants because really no one would have known.  Dang…why didn’t I think of that sooner?  After slowly extricating myself from my capris enough to go pee, I then had to get them back on.  I somehow managed to shimmy the fabric back up my fat thighs and went to go wash my hands and meet BFF only to discover that the fabric was not in the right place.  How in God’s green earth did that happen?  Holy cow they felt like they were giving me wedgies both in the front and in the back at the same time while turning my unders into a twisted mess that I could not gracefully pull out of my crack.  For shits sake.  I literally had to do some creative walking and almost had to go back into a stall to fix them so I wouldn’t be walking like my unders were twisted and up my butt crack all day.  Miserable I was.

We managed to find ways to try to keep cool which involved drinking lots of water, my favorite Dole Whip of course, a pitcher of frozen margaritas (which led to some shopping) and we even rode rides like Small World, which we normally avoid because that song gets stuck in your head the whole day (and now I have put it in yours and you are welcome) and they place all the lost children in there as dolls.  Why did we ride it?  Because it was air-conditioned.  I believe BFF and I both took a short nap on that ride, all the whole trying to cool off our armpits and offend everyone around us as our deodorant gave out hours before.  No joke.  BFF even said to me as we were standing in the cramped confined line of Peter Pan “I believe my deodorant gave out.  As did everyone else around us.  I can smell me and that is never very good.”  I just laughed because I felt the same and wasn’t sure if it was me or her or everyone else we were smelling at that point.  We even rode the roller coasters over and over as they created breezes to cool us off.  The worst was waiting in lines that didn’t have shade because that made it even hotter.  While waiting in line for the Matterhorn (which was 45 minutes), I left to go get us something to drink.  I walked over to Tomorrowland and found the best thing ever to drink when it is hot as Hades.  Frozen Lemonade.  I quickly bought 2 and walked back carrying two cups of frozen joy that would give us brain freeze but who cares.  BFF saw me and started rejoicing.  She might have squeed and jumped a little when she saw frozen lemonade.  Se even declared me a genius.  This blessedly cool drink kept us from melting and we waited in the line giving ourselves brain freeze and really wishing we could slather it on our bodies to cool off.  I think it is a reasonable thought to have!

Spoons? We don’t need no stinking spoons!

Even though it was blessed hot and sticky and we stunk by the end of the day, it was such a fun trip.  If you have a chance to go while they are celebrating the 60th Anniversary of the park, then do so….you will not be disappointed!

Oh yeah.  I didn’t die today.  I did discover that humidity and sweating do not make it easy to get your pants off to pee but I didn’t die.  I am Fat Girl who hates to be sweaty and sticky but loves Dole Whip Running.  The experiment continues….

How To Make A Mistake An EXCELLENT Experience….Thanks Disneyland!

BFF and I decided to take another trip to The Happiest Place on Earth off our normal schedule last week because they are celebrating the 60th anniversary of the park being open. We knew there was tons of special stuff being done to celebrate and we didn’t want to miss out on any of it.  Now, if you follow our exploits regularly, you will know that we usually avoid going to DL in the summer because of the crowds.  We decided to go when we knew both AZ and CA had already started school , hoping this would limit the crowds and prevent us from having some sort of Disney throw down because we got cranky.  So we packed up BFF’s car and headed out to have an adventure.  Little did we know this trip would be the craziest trip from the beginning.

We don’t usually do the drive out there in one shot because we decide to stay the first night in a cheaper hotel about an hour outside of LA.  We then get up and drive on in after rush hour knowing we can check into the Grand Californian early and they will hold our bags in bell services till our room is ready.  We were totally excited to try out the Club Level at our favorite hotel like we did at the Disneyland Hotel and couldn’t wait to check in and see their Club because we like to pretend we are fancy.  I think I secretly hope we will run into someone famous since The Grand is the hotel all the celebs stay at, but why would they even come to the Club?  I mean, if I were famous, I would just room service it up since I make a gazillion dollars.  Why would I socialize with commoners to get a free continental breakfast, snacks, desserts and watch the fireworks?  Pssssshhht….I would totally room service it up in the themed suites.  Yup…themed suites people….it is a dream of mine to stay in one of them sometime.  Sigh.  A Fat Girl can dream.

Now, let me tell you something about Disney’s customer service.  It is the best.  Hands down.  If you are in a job that requires customer service, you should take a trip to a Disney resort and see how they do it.  Never have we had a problem with the hotels we stay at there.  Ever…..until this time.  But let me preface this statement by it was NOT with the customer service and you will see why.  It was just the weirdest series of events we have ever had there.  When you pull up to the hotel, they say “Welcome home!”  and it always makes me smile.  Because they do such a good job of making you feel welcome, it is like pulling up to your home with a gazillion people to clean your room, park your car, carry your luggage and cater to your every need/want/desire.  I wish my home was like this!  We pulled up to valet, handed over our keys and the million pieces of luggage we had between us…I am shamed to say the bell hop wrote 11 on our claim ticket for the number of bags…and he was correct.  Ridiculous amount of luggage for 2 of us.  I tried to make BFF feel better when I saw another car had that much till she said “Yes and they have 2 kids with them!”  And just think…this is BEFORE we shopped at DL…..I won’t tell you how many bags we had when we left…. Don’t judge.

We then went in to check in, anticipating the Club Level check in we had gotten at the DL Hotel.  As we started the check in process, the gal started checking us in like normal and BFF and I looked at each other curiously having had a different experience before with Club Level.  Then she made the statement that we had a premium view room…ummmmm….nope.  We never do that because why pay to see the park when all you are gonna do is sleep there?  Confused, I asked her if that room was Club Level and got the confused look back from her and she asked if it was supposed to be.  I explained that I had asked for Club Level when I called and booked the room and immediately she apologized profusely.  She told us to hang on a minute and she would see if she could get that for us and went to the back.  As she went to try to clear up our reservation, which by the way, indeed was even wrong in our email and I didn’t catch it, BFF and I started talking about how it was weird that passholders weren’t being given a special fast pass this time like always.  We then overheard the people next to us checking in and getting those fast passes as passholders….huh. Now we are truly confused as to what happened to our reservation as I know I told the agent we were passholders.  The registration gal comes back, apologizing again for the wait, and tells us she can get us Club Level service but it would be on the 4th floor and not a premium room if that was ok.  BFF and I both assured her that we didn’t care about the room just about the Club Level so she started making adjustments to our rate.  Poor girl….I then asked her about passholders rate/special and she again was confused as to why that was not on our reservation.  Apparently, our reservation had been changed several times in the computer, but quickly, our little gal changed it all and got us what we wanted all with a smile on her face and telling us how wonderful we were to work with and pleasant we were because we weren’t yelling or mad…I guess we didn’t have Resting Bitch Faces on this time. All said and done, she bent over backwards and fixed everything on our reservation (including the special fast passes), even making a special trip back to the back to get the concierge to take us to the Club (bet she got her steps in on her Fitbit).  We knew checking in so early that our room wouldn’t be ready and as she was stating that they would text me with a room number, my phone went off with a room number…..on the 6th floor….a premium room.  Even she was surprised as the concierge came over and told us she upgraded us because we were so patient and pleasant.  All the gals who helped us were AMAZING and really went out of their way to fix everything so we headed up to get into our room and see the Club after asking for comment cards so we could praise our registration gal.

The view from our 6th floor room….hells yes

After a tour of the Club, which was gorgeous,and grabbing a couple of complimentary Diet Cokes and bottles of water, we walked over to where our room was located.  It was next to a HUGE themed suite and in a corner….nobody on either side of us and right around the corner from the elevators.  I desperately wanted to break into the themed suite and see what it looked like in there. I really had to resist not trying to see if my key might work on that door like magic. I then called bell services for our luggage. 10 minutes later and I opened the door to the bell services guy with an empty cart. Hmmmmm.  He looked at us and our clearly made up room and said “You aren’t checking out?” Ummmmm…nope.  WTH was happening with this trip?  Are we in the Twilight Zone?  Are we being punked?  Do they know I am The Fat Girl?  I smiled and showed him our claim ticket.  He apologized profusely and said he would be right back with our bags.  10 minutes later, he knocked and I opened the door to a cart full of luggage….somebody else’s luggage.  I quickly said that it wasn’t ours and he was so embarrassed and kept apologizing and ran back down to hopefully return with our bags this time.  10 more minutes later and he returns sheepishly with a cart full of…OUR bags!  Yippee!!  He quickly unloaded them, apologizing for the wait and mistakes.  We assured him it was ok and I went to hand him the tip I had ready.  Immediately he pushed it away and said he couldn’t take it because he had messed up and walked away.  I even practically ran after him, insisting he take our tip as he was so upset at making us wait and I finally tucked it into the pocket of his vest…I almost felt like I was intruding on his private space….like I mean I know you are not a bell hop stripper but here is your $20 tip.  Please do not break out into bad porn music and give us something else with our “Club Level” service please.  I wanted to hug him because he was so visibly upset about the wait and mistakes made with our bags.  Never have I had a bell hop refuse a tip and not just once…he kept refusing it until I tucked it into his vest.  I really hope he didn’t get fired…I mean that could have been totally a horrid situation for him if it wasn’t us.  Luckily, BFF and I can laugh about all the mistakes to the start of our adventure (because we knew a good blog would happen).  Plus it really hard to have a bad time when I am with BFF.  I mean look at this:

THIS is what I get when I travel with her….I adore her

Oh yeah.  I didn’t die today.  I did discover what excellent customer service looks like when everything seems to be starting off wrong but I didn’t die.  I am Fat Girl who hopes the bell hop didn’t get fired and is super glad I stuck that tip in his vest Running.  The experiment continues….

Elk Are Assholes

As I previously wrote, I love to spoil The Reds when they come to visit me, so BFF and I decided a trip to Bearizona was for sure in order.  I mean, what is not to love about wild animals that you can drive past slowly?  That doesn’t scream danger at all in any shape or form.  The girls love going there and I have a year pass, so we loaded us all in my car and took off to get up close and personal with some wildebeests.  Little did I know that this trip would be quite the up close and personal adventure with an asshole elk.

Let me first tell you that I have this little obsession with Disney antenna toppers for my car.  I am religious about changing them out for every holiday and any time I feel like it.  I have them for just about any occasion.  At the time of our trip to Bearizona, I had a Disney castle on my antenna because we are about to go there in 2 weeks.  This particular topper was a gift and was brand new….and it is no longer in my possession after this trip thanks to a certain asshole elk.  For real…an elk.  And for the record, elk are assholes.

I know that animals can come up to your car while driving through Bearizona….remember the bear that tried to climb on Bubby’s car?  So there we are, minding our own business just driving along making noises, talking to animals (you can have your windows down except where there are bears and wolves), commenting on them and we drive into a new part of the park which contains deer and elk.  The girls get all excited because there are a bunch of deer all around us and they are from the city.  Then we see him….the asshole elk.  He is up against the car in front of us, possibly peeing on it, we weren’t sure, but he was definitely curious about the SUV.  Now, if you don’t know anything about elk, well, they are GINORMOUS.  You for sure don’t wanna hit one of these creatures with your car, because you will be seriously fucked up.  I have seen some gnarly accidents from elk.  And I don’t even think this asshole was fully grown.

Can you see how big this asshole is? We couldn’t decide if he was trying to pee on that SUV or not….and look….he brought friends

After a few minutes, this asshole elk decides he is gonna check out the next car….ours.  I thought I could maybe avid this by slowly pulling forward, ut no.  His asshole friends, the deer, surrounded us and I could do nothing but sit there and witness the carnage that was about to happen.  First, the elk walked all around my car, sniffing, peeing, who knows what he was doing, but he for sure pushed it several times with his head.  I am not gonna lie.  It was slightly terrifying to me.  All I could think was to please don’t turn over my car.  I don’t wanna call Bestie and tell her that we got into an accident because some asshole elk decided to push my car over and injure her babies.  There was lots of screaming (I am not sure if it was scary or funny to everyone else) and excited talking going on as the asshole elk rounded the passenger side of the car.  Then it happened.  Carnage.  Destruction.  The asshole elk spied my castle antenna topper and thought it would make a good snack.  He literally put my whole car antenna in his mouth, plucked off the castle and started chewing it…all the while looking at me like “What?  You gonna do something about it?  Fuck your castle.  It tastes like fucking pixie dust and I like it.”  We sat there, still unable to move, with more screaming from the Reds and watched the asshole elk chew on the castle and stare at us.  A few minutes later, he decided it was inedible and spit it on the ground as if to say “That is what I think of your fucking inedible castle. Why am I not in Neverland?”  As I was lamenting over the loss of my castle, Big Red stated “Well, it is just right there Nina but it looks a little covered in elk slime.”  There was no way in hell I was gonna get out of my car to get it so we all just looked at the slimy version of my castle in the dirt.  I then cursed asshole elk for taking my new antenna topper to which he replied by blowing snot all over the side window and started licking the back one.  This is where BFF pointed out that his asshole deer friends had left and we pulled away slowly, leaving the asshole elk to torture the truck behind us.  The castle had fallen and was left behind in ruins and elk slime.  Ew.  Asshole.

Asshole elk right after he nudged my car and started walking around it to get to what he thought was a tasty treat
“Tastes like fucking pixie dust”

After leaving the asshole elk behind, the rest of the day was filled with the adventure of discovering new things like how one of the badgers does not like polka-dotted umbrellas and they make a hissing sound when pissed off (don’t ask how we know this…).  It also ended with a trip to our favorite pie place in town where we gorged ourselves on giant slices of pie.  Because pie.  Do we need another reason?  I will be sad someday if my Reds ever tell me they don’t want to go to Bearizona because I love going there and spending time with them.  They are my favorite Reds of all times….and we have grand adventures.

Does it get any cuter than this? Pretty sure it does not

Oh yeah.  I didn’t die today.  I did discover that elk are assholes and I really should make sure my antenna topper is off my car next time I go to Bearizona, but I didn’t die.  I am Fat Girl with a close encounter with an asshole elk who thought my castle would taste like fucking pixie dust Running.  The experiment continues….

One Does Not Simply Hike to Mt. Doom or The Quest for the Secret Swing

This past week I was lucky enough to have a visit from my two god daughters, the Reds, for several nights.  Per usual, they were spoiled rotten the entire time they were here.  I also love thinking of new things to do with them while they are visiting, so they don’t get too bored and this time was no exception.  You see, I had heard about this special Secret Swing located up on the mountain behind my house and I was determined to find it.  Just the thought of their being a Secret Swing up on the mountain was intriguing.  Why was it there?  Who built it?  Why keep it a secret?  Is it magic?  Is it protected by faeries?  Is there just one ring to rule them all?  All these questions kept nagging at me and so I got some directions from a couple of co-workers and with the girls in tow, Bubby, Pocket GF and I started out on our Quest for the Secret Swing.  Why?  Because we believe in magic. And in quests.

I wish I could say that we had special weapons with us, magic or even a dragon, but alas we had none of them.  Just water bottles, our cell phones and a cute little doggie named Lola to accompany us.  The Reds were super excited and we made short work of finding our way to the main path into the woods that would take us to Mt. Doom and the Secret Swing.  We accidentally went the wrong way at first but quickly realized our error and turned around.  We got to where one co-worker told us she hikes straight up the mountain we have now nicknamed Mt. Doom to get to our destiny.  We stood there for a few minutes and thought….ummmmmm…..nope.  Not gonna hike up the side of what sure to be certain death with two children in tow just to find a swing.  Nope  Not happening.  I mean, this was straight up a steep hike up the side of Mt. Doom.  Especially with me being asthmatic, the Reds being from sea level and Bubby being a smoker.  Nope.  Luckily, I knew my other co-worker who lived in my hood was up and called her getting the most odd set of directions involving a bed of rocks, several paths and then a hike up to the top of Mt. Doom.  Hmmmm.  We doubted we would be able to find it although Big Red did say maybe we would discover the door to Narnia in our quest and Mr. Tumnus would come out to greet us all.  I must admit, that would be cool. So we continued our trek, finding the directions, once we saw what we were looking for, to be quite accurate in a descriptive way.

The quest to possibly find the entrance to Narnia

After a short steep trek upwards on a much gentler trail than the side of Mt. Doom, we reached the top and the search began in earnest.  We were quickly realizing that this quest might not come to the end that we had hoped.  The mythical pile of rocks that marked the Secret Swing had yet to be found and we were getting discouraged.  All of a sudden, I see something that could only be described as  pile of rocks in front of a tree and I called out to our group.  Although I had yet to spot the swing, which I am sure was cloaked in magic, we all started running the best you can in the woods towards the rocks.  Bubby yells he sees it and there it is…in all it’s gloriousness.  The object of all our desires…the Secret Swing.  In the middle of the woods, up on top of Mt. Doom, someone had indeed constructed the perfect swing to swing out over the side of the mountain.  It was beautiful.

The legendary swing exists! We made it to the top of Mt Doom and we are rewarded! Now who has the ring?

Happy Dances of Joy were done, virgins sacrificed, and great fun was had by all.  You really could not ask for a more beautiful setting for a swing.  My fat butt even got upon the swing and I had a turn.  It really was a little scarier than it looks if you looked down while you were swinging.  I even called upon my mad selfies kills and managed to take some pics while swinging.  It really is harder than it looks.  Go ahead and try it someday.  If the vertigo you get from trying to take a selfie while swinging doesn’t get to you, you might drop your phone and it might die.  I have mad skills though.

Mad skills I tell you. Why is Bubby a creeper?
Me attempting to swing….My face though

After everyone had fulfilled their heart’s desire of swinging, we hiked back down off of Mt. Doom to go eat some burgers cuz we deserved it.  I mean we had just hiked to Mt. Doom to discover its treasure of a Secret Swing.  And no, I won’t tell you how to get there.  No matter how much you beg.  Why?  Because my friends, one does not simply hike to Mt. Doom and discover the Secret Swing.  It is a treasure we shall keep to ourselves…and you can see why….

Beauty…Big Red swinging to her heart’s desire.
My secret little daredevil…take my breath away

Quest completed.  Until our next adventure.

Oh yeah.  I didn’t die today.  I did survive the Quest for the Secret Swing and completed the hike to Mt. Doom to still not find the answer if one ring truly rules them all but I didn’t die.  I am Fat Girl believing in the powers of magic and secrets Running.  The experiment continues…

That One Time Bubby Went to Jazzercise to Try and Prove His Sisters Wrong

Have I ever mentioned what a great Bubby I have?  I am pretty sure nobody else has such a great Bubby of their own.  This is a guy who will do anything for his sisters.  And I mean just about anything.  Once, we even convinced him to go to a Jazzercise class with us after he ribbed us that it could not be THAT hard and what was the big deal anyways.  Bubby used to call it our “little workout class” and make feminine dancy moves to go along with it.  Seester and I looked at each other and challenged him to go with us to a class and so he did.  We had been taking classes for quite some time and knew what a great workout it was, but he was convinced it was not hard.  So we bet him that we were right about it being a hard workout and he accepted the challenge. I can hear my inner laugh bubbling up even now thinking about it.  It was one of the best family adventures ever.  Epic even.

First off, we made him get up early to go work out with us and my Bubby is not a morning person.  Actually, none of us are to be honest, but we wanted to get our workout done for the day so we made him get up early and go with us.  Plus, BFF wanted to join us to see Bubby take a class so there we were bright and early.  Our instructor was excited to have a boy in class besides her hubby, so we took our places to start class.  He was a little intimidated by having to sign the waiver stating the center was not responsible if he died but he didn’t let it phase him.  There is my Bubby, tall skinny white boy, in a class filled with women and taking it all in stride.  We start warming up and Bubby hangs on just fine even sticking his tongue out at the 3 of us as if to prove that it isn’t that hard.  Then the aerobic dancing starts.  Oh my poor Bubby really had no idea what he was in for when we started truly Jazzercising.

A few songs in and I snuck a peek at my Bubby.  Poor guy was keeping up pretty decent but was soaked with sweat and red-faced as we all get in my family.  He was not doing too bad with the dance steps though cuz we all seem to have rhythm in my family but his gangly tall nature did make it seem a little like Spazzercize.  Bubby might have made up his own moves at one point which made us start giggling.  At times, he might have resembled Chandler Bing from Friends dancing but God love him, he never gave up.  He was covered in sweat and by this I mean he looked like he had been dipped in the pool of his own bodily secretions, that is how much he was sweating.  I felt so bad for him as it was obvious that his smoking habit was catching up with him by the way he was heavy breathing.  Then we started the leg/butt/abs portion of class.  He literally started swearing under his breath as we did leg lift after leg lift.  Seester, BFF and I were cracking up now as we knew the pain that we were getting into and listening to him constantly swearing was the best.  At one point, he gave up and collapsed onto his mat, breathing hard and swearing softly about his butt being on fire.  He bravely got up and continued after a few minutes, muttering under his breath and groaning with pain.  The look on his face a bit later when we were doing arms with weights was just as priceless and I believe he said to me “Is she trying to fucking kill us?” as we went into the third arm routine.  I don’t think he believed me when I said it was harder than it looks.  His choice of an 8 lb weight was probably also not the wisest as he grunted and groaned through the rest of the routine.

After cooling down, my poor bright red-faced soaked in his own sweat Bubby turned to us and said “You guys actually pay her to torture you like this?  This is fucking insanity!”.  He freely admitted that it was harder than he thought and we all smiled smugly.  Actually, I think BFF might have done what could only be described as a type of end-zone dance about winning that bet.  Bubby even said he almost felt like throwing up at one point when it got hard and was grateful he was under a fan.  His hat he had worn was drenched in sweat…you could have wrung it out.  It truly was the best experience ever watching him Spazzercise.  He never again ribbed us about our “little workout class” ever again.  In fact, if I remember correctly, he complained about his arms and butt hurting for several days afterwards.

Oh yeah.  I didn’t die today.  I did however have respect for my Bubby for actually going to a Jazzercise class even if it was to try to prove his sisters wrong but I didn’t die.  I am Fat Girl with quite possibly is the best Bubby in the whole world even when he does look like he is drenched in his own secretions Running.  The experiment continues…

Just a Day in the Life of The Fat Girl

Sometimes I have a hard time figuring out what to write about when I blog.  Mainly because I feel like my life is pretty boring.  However, I recently asked my fan group…wait did you know I had a fan group?  It’s true.  I have a fun fan group called Fat Girl Nation:  Revenge of the Fans on Facebook.  You should look it up and join in because it is lots of fun.  You might even get to meet some of the crazy people who allow me to write about them on a regular basis.  For reals though I asked the crazy fans what I should write about.  Pocket GF suggested I blog about what a typical day in my life is like so here goes nothing.

I kind of feel like those gossip magazines that show celebrities doing real things like “Look! Julia Roberts goes grocery shopping!” or “Channing Tatum goes to the dentist!”.  I am sure that some paparazzi is gonna snap a pic of me and BFF shopping at target or me shoving Chick -Fil-A n my gob or me binge watching Friends on Netflix because that is what normally happens in my life.  Of course, the shoving Chick-Fil-A in my gob usually is sans pants as well and nobody wants to see that.  I mean, SOTL Man might wanna see that but really nobody else does.  Would that be considered Fat Girl porn or food porn or both?  Huh.

So, what do I normally do on my days off?  Well, normally BFF and I have the same days off (or pretty similar) so that we can hang out.  Let me describe to you my last day off so you have some idea.  It starts with breakfast. I mean, let’s face it, BFF and I love to eat so breakfast is a must and I loves me some waffles so we went and got waffles.  After shoving food in our gobs at our favorite diner, we went to drop off BFF’s car for an oil change.  Of course, this meant we had to pick up my car from my house (since she picked me up for breakfast) and I follow her out to the dealership by the mall.  I got in my car and noticed I had no gas, which is a source of contention for BFF.  She never lets hers go below half a tank….something I am frequently reminded of when I drive her car to California and back.  I, on the other hand, let mine go till the light comes on like a normal person and sometimes lower.  Because I live on the edge like that.  BFF repeatedly reminds me that if the zombie apocalypse happens, I will be grateful for her half a tank of gas because we will be able to drive somewhere on that half of a tank.  I think we will have bigger problems than that if the zombie horde comes through town, but hey…what do I know?  I stopped for gas and drove out to the mall to find BFF walking down the street cuz she didn’t want to wait for me at the dealership.  Silly BFF.

After dropping off her car, BFF and I proceeded to the mall. Why?  Because it was there and we love to shop.  A lot.  So in we went to spend money and buy stuff we didn’t need.  To be honest, we really only wanted to go into VS because we had coupons, but we of course had to stop in Hot Topic because I was desperate for Harry Potter Pop! figures, which of course I found 3 of the 4 I needed to complete my collection.  Not like I don’t have a wall of these figures in my office.  BFF proceeded to talk herself out of everything she was gonna buy and then ended up in line with 3 things to get that she didn’t need.  It is a vicious cycle.  After we fulfilled our buying need and picked up her car, we decided to head back to my house to watch some episodes of So You Think You Can Dance I had on my dvr.  We are obsessed with this show.  Legit obsessed.  Fun fact you might not know about me:  I am a classically Russian trained ballet dancer.  For serious.  Hence why I love to dance.  There we are watching an episode and we are discussing how one dancer is going to pull out of the competition and BFF says “If he pulls out, she can still get pregnant.”  My BFF ladies and gents.  While we are watching, my housekeeper shows up.  Now, before you start in on me having a housekeeper, I am gonna say this. I am the world’s WORST housekeeper.  If left to my own devices, my house would be piles of crap everywhere, food wrappers surrounding the couch and my friends would turn me into the show Hoarders.  Sometimes, I do watch that show to really prove to myself that my house is not as dirty as those houses.  So, I hired a housekeeper….use your genius my friends….house cleaning is not mine.  Let me pay other people to do things that I am not good at is how I think.  We continued to watch SYTYCD with our own running commentary that is similar to MST3000.  BFF was admittedly a little freaked out by sitting there on the couch while someone cleans my house, but I am so used to it that it doesn’t bother me.

After BFF and my housekeeper leave, I am left to my own devices.  This is where it can get quite scary.  First off, pants almost always come off.  No pants are the best pants.  Once the pants have come off, then you might think I am limited to activities inside my house….and you would be quite wrong.  I have been known to drive to Chick-Fil-A without pants to get some grub.  But mostly I stay inside for the sake of the children.  This where the couch usually eats me.  I might take the time to contemplate unpacking the boxes sitting in my office from when I had my floors done in December, but then I turn on Netflix or open a book and it is all forgotten.  The rest of my day is usually spent trolling the internet, eating, reading, eating, watching tv, eating, or sometimes eating.  This is my life.  It isn’t that exciting but there you have it.  Now let’s see hte papparazzi find something to publish about me!  “Look!  The Fat Girl doesn’t wear pants when she goes to Chick-Fil-A just like us!”

Oh yeah.  I didn’t die today.  I did however realize how much I do in a day and how much time I spend eating but I didn’t die.  I am Fat Girl who hates to wear pants and hopes some papparazzi don’t capture me in without them Running.  The experiment continues….

It Isn’t a Family Reunion Without Hatchet Throwing

As you read last time, my family reunions are always one that bring the unexpected and some hilarious moments.  Most of our activities are unplanned, like 15 of us taking up an entire row at the movies to see Jurassic World, or the epic Cards Against Humanity game.  I am always amazed that we can find the most bizarre and often country things to do.  My family is always what I describe as “country” and for those who don’t know, yes there IS a difference between “country” and “redneck”.  BFF didn’t believe me till she looked online and found out I (for once) was right.  Go ahead and GTS that and see for yourself.  So being we were out near my Aunty T’s farm, I knew things might get a little crazy and sure enough, one night there was a wholesome family activity of hatchet throwing.  Yup.  You read that right…hatchet throwing.  What?  Your family doesn’t do this at their family reunion?  Apparently ours does…

I am not sure how the subject even came up but all of a sudden, my Daddy is pulling out a homemade target in the outline of a human for people to throw the hatchet at…wait…..are we preparing for the zombie apocalypse or training a bunch of murderers?  Either way, this skill might prove handy someday.  I mean, you never know during the zombie outbreak when throwing a hatchet might come in handy.  It is quiet, and would take the head shot needed to kill a zombie without attracting other zombies.  So, I was all for watching and learning how to throw the hatchet.  The enthusiasm with which my family embraced this activity without any qualms was a little frightening.  Maybe they all want to be prepared for when the zombie plague happens as well.  Either that or there will soon be a rash outbreak of murder by hatchets in Iowa and we will know who is to blame.  Despite my thoughts of what might possibly be wrong with my family, I proceeded to watch and join in on the hatchet throwing.

My Daddy showing the rest of us how to get the perfect head shot on a zombie…I mean hit the target

Now, this hatchet throwing was not just for the older generation.  We even decided to let the little ones give it a go and throw the hatchet at the human target.  Hey…they need to learn how to defend themselves too ya know.  I mean, I don’t want my little cousins not knowing how to get out of a zombie jam if they can’t help it.  It is a vital concern.  The kids were surprisingly good, each hitting the target quite violently with their first try.  I was not so lucky….I finally hit the target the 3rd time, but not nearly with the anger or velocity as my baby cousins.  Guess I need to channel some of their energy into my throwing.  I was surprised, actually, at how hard it was to hit the target so I need to obviously practice on my head shots so I can survive.

My sweet baby cousin (also my mini-me) showing us all how it is done with one throw. I want her on my apocalypse team….

Pretty soon, this happened.  I will just leave it there.  The pic really speaks for itself.  Prepared family I tell ya.

I have no words….I love the boys in our family

Oh yeah.  I didn’t die today.  I did however contemplate planning future family activities vs letting us come up with our own since we do things like train our children to be dead shots with a hatchet.  I am Fat Girl with a hatchet throwing, gun-toting kind of family reunion Running.  The experiment continues…

Games NOT to Play With Your Family

Last month I enjoyed the biannual family reunion in Iowa and had a great time with those crazy people, despite the hot and humid weather.  We had an all day event where we loaded down tables full of food, enjoyed each other’s company, went for walks, played with the kiddos and eventually a group of us played a game together.  This game left us sore from laughing, shocked at some of our relatives and needing some therapy.  What game did we play?  Cards Against Humanity of course.  Not every family should play this game together, but boy am I glad we did….I learned so much about my cousins and really I think I might need some therapy after playing it with them.

Now I must tell you something about my family,  We are not only loud and obnoxious, but we also hold nothing back and there aren’t too many secrets we keep from each other.  I am sure there are a few but we pretty much acknowledge everyone and love them for who they are so really there is no need to have them.  That being said, if your family is not as open as mine, then you really shouldn’t play Cards Against Humanity with them.  One of the older kids had purchased the game ad brought it to the reunion hoping we would play it,  My Seester, BIL and I were all game so we sat down and proceeded to play.  It started out with all of us being hesitant but took no time at all to develop into a full force laugh a minute game.

My crazy cousins. Something tells me we should play this more often

We all know my past experiences with this game have brought some rather hilarious results but some of the ones my cousins threw down…what in the world are they eating in Iowa?  Especially some of the teenagers!  At some points, we were laughing so hard that we could not even read the cards.  Seester had one of the best rounds when she pulled the card “During his midlife crisis, my Dad got really into ____”.  Mind you, our Daddy is all of the cousin’s Uncle so to see the responses put Seester into a fit of laughing so hard, that she needed her inhaler.  Also, we might need some serious counseling thinking of our Daddy doing some of these….ew.  Who thinks of these things anyways and what exactly are Backwards Knees?

Ummmmm….what? I need some therapy. I cannot look at my Daddy the same way ever again

But the best round was one that we will never stop laughing at…like ever.  My cousin (hmmmm…they all are so let’s call him Big D since he is one of the tallest of the boys) Big D pulls his card, shakes his head and says “What killed my boner?”  We all immediately burst into laughter and a few smart ass remarks were made as people looked at their cards and decided what to play.  As we all turned over our cards, Big D’s daughter #2 turns to him and matter of fact says “So Dad.  What did kill your boner?” Big D immediately burst into laughter and I almost peed my pants.  Shocked looks went all around as we all doubled over with laughter that she actually asked her dad that question.  Things you never thought you would hear your teenage daughter ask you, huh Big D?  Yup.  That really did happen.  Also the term “Reverse Cowgirl” will now forever be tied to one of those crazy cousins….I swear this is not a game for those who are easily offended.  Good thing none of us ever are.

Oh yeah.  I didn’t die today.  I almost died from laughter as I played one of the most inappropriate games with a group of the most inappropriate group of people around who I am proud to say are my family.  I am Fat Girl who wonders if there are games you should not play with your family Running.  The experiment continues…