My kind of reality...

Anyone who knows me knows me, knows that I am a huge fan of reality television. I have until now been in the closet on how much I watch and exactly what it is that I devour. When I write reality tv I don’t mean the trashy kind that you find on MTV or Vh1, I mean the classy kind. (Right… like there is classy reality tv.) I only watch TWO regular series, LOST and Parenthood, and one sitcom, Modern Family, which makes me feel some better about my unhealthy consumption.

Sunday begins the vicious cycle. Amazing Race, Ruby, Celebrity Apprentice and Kirstie Alley’s Big Life… Along comes Monday which brings my dvr, Little People Big World, Dancing with the Stars, and Tori and Dean Home Sweet Hollywood… Tuesday is the only night when I actually watch the tube in real time and at 8 I must be sitting in silence as I take in every nanosecond of LOST. Wednesday, it is Top Chef Masters where I live out my dream vicariously through others of being a master chef… (Someday maybe. Right now it is Oscar Meyer wieners and Kraft macaroni and cheese. Have I mentioned, I am TIRED?) Thursday, the best night, Survivor, Heroes vs. Villains (love it), Sober House, and my favorite reality show of all time, Real Housewives of Whatever City Bravo is filming now… And I must not forget The Marriage Ref. This show in particular makes me feel a little less dysfunctional.

The “thing” about others reality is that I either can relate in some odd way, become invested in a way that may be deemed as psychotic, experience a challenge without actually making a fool out of myself, or I can sit with my mouth open gulping flies and just enjoy. Reality television can also be a great conversation piece, as I experienced recently with my OBGYN. (Seriously… Who knew that someone else was as concerned as I by the turn in Matt and Amy Roloff’s relationship?)

I have faced the harsh reality that NO ONE, absolutely NO ONE, could endure the Amazing Race with me as their partner… Maybe if they changed the name to Amazing Trip to Hell. I don’t watch Ruby to see her weight loss, no matter how significant it may be… I watch only to see if Denny comes out of the closet on the most recent episode and to listen for all the words that she mispronounces. (I promise NOT all southern girls are stupid.) Celebrity Apprentice this season has proven that Bret Michaels is smarter that the governor of one of the largest states in the union (I am not sure about the validity of half-baked Blago’s statement… and that Holly Robinson Pete is just one step away from being a mega-bitch. Oh, and I must not forget, Cyndi Lauper is certifiable.)

Kirstie Alley has single-handedly made being “fat” cool to me and also made being almost 60 look not too bad. Now as for what she calls her “religion” a big fat frown I give her and I am sorry but I can’t help but think she and Jim are a little bit more than chubby buddies. I’m just saying…

Little People Big World has proven that no matter how “little” one may be, we all have adult sized problems, and sometimes that means being married to a jackass who has an extreme compulsion to spend large quantities of money without batting a single eyelash. I would just like to say here that if my 12 year old were to run up a $2,000+ cell phone bill I would not be the only person needing crutches.

Dancing with the Stars is good for a laugh. Typically I don’t watch because I am a huge fan of any participant, but rather to laugh at someone else’s expense and this season that individual would be, Kate Gosselin. Are you kidding me Kate? I understand supporting your children with whatever amount of money ABC has paid you at your own expense, but really… I laugh at you, not with you. While Jon lays on his brothers sofa eating KFC the world watches and waits for your elimination. Which by the way I cannot believe was not week one. Even Buzz had more potential. Artificial hips and all…

MAKS, DWTS professional, you danced the tango with me recently in a G-rated pregnancy dream, and I must say you are not hot, but rather HAWT… (Please continue reading as I digress further.)

Tori and Dean, have you not heard of the reality show curse? Not that the odds were stacked in your favor from the get go… I mean the reality is your relationship is the product of deception. Nonetheless, your kids are really cute and so are the gunkles, and Tori I am always for the under dog.

Top Chef, you educated me as to what exactly squab is… Thank you kindly… I will remember to never order pigeon as long as I eat. Survivor, thanks for casting the devil, Russell… Because of you we will never have to debate if anyone else is satan. I mean it is quite possible that CBS has enlisted the anti-christ for ratings. As of today Colby, eye candy from season 2, is still standing and I can rest a little easier knowing that just maybe in the world of reality television good will triumph over evil.

Real Housewives of New York, oh how I love each and every one of you. Yes, even you Kelly. You make all of us “real housewives” look so much better. I mean seriously what straight man could ever watch this show and not thank the good lord above that he is married to the Old Navy dressed, bad dye job, not well manicured, chubby girl from the sticks. Jill and Bethenney you have made Ramona look sane. Jill seriously, if I did not know any better, I would think that you were one of the uptight women, from the FBC in my home town.

Sober House gives me the weekly chance to see my celebrity crush, Dr. Drew. (Hey, I have contemplated naming the baby in my belly after this man.) The unreal thing about this show is that it is reality and I cry every single time I watch. Although, watching is sort of like sinning.

Marriage Ref. creator Jerry Seinfeld, you have settled no arguments within my home, but you have given some of my craziness validity. Especially the episode with the “stuffed” dog. Now the husband does not think that I am completely insensitive.


Yes, you have read correctly. Yes, I am this invested to where I feel the need to type quick notes to people and let them know how I really feel. Now I think I will go and create a group on FACEBOOK that is dedicated to all of us who have no life and watch ten hours or more of television or more per week.

And the boy screamed, Martin Luther King!

What do you do when your three year old child begins to scream in the checkout line at the grocery store? I personally opened a package of M&M’s and began shoving them in his mouth hoping that he would not continue to scream, “Martin Luther King”… and then I began to threaten him when he asked the bagger, a small Asian woman to in his words, “stop looking at me, you are making me nervous.”

One may ask, several already have, to include his own dad, “Why Martin Luther King?” To which I have sheepishly replied, “I don’t know. Too much History Channel?” However, upon further investigation I have learned that when your older brother is beating the crap out of you, “Martin Luther King”, is what you scream to get attention so he will stop.

I know that this may not be funny to some and I must admit it is not politically correct, however it is my life.

Uh Oh...

I always questioned the judgment of the woman teaching the “Preparing For & Welcoming Baby Class” when we were expecting our oldest child in the fall of 1997. She said, “Baby blues, the crying, save it for later. You will know what the blues are when you have a teenager.” I sat catching flies as these words left her mouth and I thought to myself, just another hormonal, angry, middle-age woman.

Now that I find myself quickly approaching middle-aged, continuously hormonal, and quite often angry and on the brink of having my very own teenager I realize that woman knew what she was talking about and unfortunately this phase for me as a mother is just beginning.

Yesterday, our oldest son attended what we thought was his first boy/girl party. Joke was on him. He ended up being the only boy! However, he did not seem to mind the “joke”. Imagine my horror…

Beforehand, he had borrowed my toothpaste with breath strips, made a request that I buy him mouthwash, and was well groomed, two hours before the party. Uh oh… When I asked him why he was now so concerned with his “breath”, he jokingly replied, “You have to be prepared for the ladies.” I laughed, more out of a deep fear than joy…

As I enter into this new phase in motherhood I cringe and fear the unknown. As much as my heart aches and breaks I know that in the end, after this time has passed, I will want to do it all again. (Well, maybe.)

Don't Bite Your Friends...

I learned a valuable lesson today while watching, N*ck Jr.‘s Yo Gabba Gabba, with the little boys… The lyrics to the song read, “Don’t bite your friends…” Of course smartass me said aloud, “Really?” Yes, really. It is good to be reminded ever so often of what we should and should not do. I guess that is why some of us go to church and then there are those of us who are backslidden and rely upon preschool programming for reinforcement.

There are times when I have figuratively bit a friend and I will be the first to admit that sometimes it has been on purpose. Whether it be to prove a point or *sigh* out of spite. However, I never felt good for long, maybe momentarily, but never long-lasting.

I am learning still… Which fortunately means I am still growing. It is important to remember if you don’t like to be bit, then don’t bite…