friend and foe.

Mimosas. This mimosa is my friend.

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This mimosa?

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Taken at UALR

Not. So. Much.

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Coleman Creek, UALR

I forget that I have Mimosa Tree allergy. I love them. They’re beautiful and fragrant…and they make my eyes cry all the cries!

Years ago, when we bought our first house in Little Rock, our yard was filled with mimosa trees. And they were lovely. And I couldn’t see for almost 6 weeks. We thought I had developed an allergy to my contacts, so I stopped wearing them. My eyes were so light sensitive I actually had to wear those grandpa sunglasses that cover their glasses, even inside.

sexy.

sexy.

Yes. These. Except mine were a hideous dark green.

My eyes are so sensitive this week, I’m thinking about bringing sexy back with those bad boys.

And it’s my own freaking fault. I was checking out the sneaky snakes in Coleman Creek yesterday, enjoying the ambiance…inhaling the wonderful scent of the…OH SHIT. Mimosa tree that I was standing inches away from. Stupid Melf. You done lost your damn mind.

Oh well. It’ll clear up in a few days and if it doesn’t, I guess I’ll be getting me some prescription eye drops. Conjunctivitis is sexy. It makes my makeup run all down my face, like I was jilted on Prom Night.

Good thing I’m a natural beauty. haha

This weekend is Father’s Day and we’re having a cookout on Sunday.  El Jefe is Papa Bear and he’s fantastic with the boys, but they will be with their dad this Sunday. However, Stacey Jay and her fam will be hanging out with us! Because I cannot get enough of her. EVER. So we’ll be celebrating Big Daddy Mike Day. It’ll be awesome.

And I know there will be much laughter. Because that’s how we do at The Compound.

 

 

 

topless driving and inappropriate conversations

How is it that I waited this long to buy a convertible? I will never have anything else now. *so in love with sally sparkle*

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Seriously, I require a massive amount of sunlight to make me happy. Just driving with the top down on the way to work, starts my day off just right. No matter what mood I’m in when I wake up, I’m always happier after 20 minutes in the sun and wind.
Welcome to the bullet points of miscellany. My brain is in ADHD mode, so you have been warned:

  • My little salsa garden is doing great! I cannot wait to make my first batch of homemade salsa.
  • I was feeling kinda cranky last night and Rader was so cute trying to make me laugh. He finally managed to succeed.
  • Ian washed the dishes and watered the plants yesterday because he is awesome.
  • I have a doctor’s appointment in 10 days for a check up. Is it possible to lose 30lbs by then?
  • I am the best griller on earth. I know grilling is supposed to be a man’s job, but seriously, nobody with a penis can hold a candle to my awesome meat.
  • That makes me Queen of the Grill.
  • Eating clean is going pretty well, except for the 1 week hiccup due to my headcold…then I just ate anything that was easy. Mostly cheese and chimichangas. Apparently I needed to feed my cold Mexican food.
  • Stacey Jay is coming over again this weekend and I love her with ALL THE LOVE.
  • I don’t want her to leave me again.
  • We have fun conversations that are very inappropriate. Here’s a snippet of things you miss when you’re not with us “YOU CAN’T PUT YOUR CAT INSIDE ME!”
  • Please don’t ask me to provide the context of that quote.
  • Oh, here’s another provided by my friend Marissa: “She is little. She is mean. She is a bitch… HER NAME IS AMY.”
  • Stacey and I think that is a fantastic book title. We may have to write that story.
  • There is a mattress on my porch. We are klassy.
  • There may have been a discussion of droopy meat-curtains and shaggy rugs women who don’t landscape during swimsuit season.
  • Rader starts driver’s ed this week. He’s been rocking it with me, so I’m pretty sure he’ll pass with driving colors.
  • If I win the lottery, I’m going to fly far, far away.
  • I rewatched Game of Thrones and it wasn’t as meh for me this time. However, I still needed somebody bad to die. Mostly, I needed Joffrey to die.
  • I imagine Margeary killing Joffrey on their wedding night with the same bow he killed Roz with.
  • That will never happen, but it would be awesome.
  • He’s probably gonna die in some weaselly way…like choke on a rib bone while torturing Sansa. I would be okay with that, too, as long as nobody tries to save him and they watch him die.
  • I would like his grandpa to stand over him while he gasps for breath while choking. Grandpa would say, “I can’t hear you, did you say ‘save me, I’m your King?’ because, you’re no king.”
  • I need a swimming pool.
  • And a lake or beach in my backyard.
  • Sorry. I’m just saying things now.
  • I’ll stop bullet pointing and move on.
  • In a minute.
  • happy Tuesday y’all.
  • Bye.
  • Bye.

 

the sungoddess enjoyed her weekend. and a recipe! also a little Game of Thrones talk. #GoT

The ex used to call me a sungoddess and this weekend, I finally rediscovered her. (Boy I miss the lakehouse…)

The sun is worshiping the goddess. Or is the goddess worshiping the sun? Tomato/ToMAHto.

The sun is worshiping the goddess. Or is the goddess worshiping the sun? Tomato/ToMAHto.

So basically, Saturday the girls and I had a fabulous brunch where I cooked the most amazing quiche (recipe to follow) and Lynne fixed the most amazing biscuits and gravy and Robyn made the most amazing mimosas. And then we went to the pool and lounged about.

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Muy delicioso!

MELF’S “SURPRISE MUTHAFUCKA” QUICHE

Pie crust
1 8 oz bar Greek Yogurt Cream Cheese
Cholula
5 eggs
5(or more) cooked slices of bacon
1/4-1/2 cup sour cream
1/2 cup milk
baby spinach (about 3/4 of a cup)
1 cup cheddar cheese
salt and pepper to taste
1 teaspoon basil

Preheat oven to 425

Put the pie crust in the pie plate. (Duh) Soften the cream cheese then spread evenly on the pie crust. Cover the cream cheese with Cholula sauce. (to taste. I use a lot.) Break up all the bacon and layer it on top of the cream cheese. Layer 3/4 of the cheddar cheese next.

Whip the eggs, sour cream, milk, salt, pepper and basil til well blended. Remove the stems from the baby spinach and add to the egg mixture. Pour into the pie. Cover with remaining cheese.

Cover the edges of your crust with foil or a pie crust protector. Bake at 425 for 15 minutes, then turn the heat to 350 and bake another 20-30 minutes.

SUPRISE MUTHAFUCKA! This is some good shit! And it’s very high in protein, especially if you use the Greek Yogurt Cream Cheese.

Now…Let’s talk about the let down that was the Game of Thrones finale…

I mean, yes, I’m glad Arya and the Hound had a moment. And that Dani had a moment. And that Sansa and Tyrion and a moment. But when you offer up a foreshadowing smack to the head with a skillet when Bran discusses the unforgivable sin of killing a guest in your home…and then the next scene is that hideous Walder Frey bragging about having done just that…and then you DON’T KILL ANYONE THAT DESERVES TO DIE in the season finale…well, it’s just anticlimactic.

The episode was just Okay. I guess I have grown to have huge expectations from this show because this season has just flown by and each episode has really been fast and fulfilling…so I expected something more from the season ender.  I am soooo looking forward to the next season. I am really gonna miss Hodor. LOL

hodorWell, at least I have Newsroom to look forward to. Oh, and that trainwreck True Blood that I can’t seem to stop watching. I blame it on the Viking Vampire.

Rader returned safely from his tournament in Decatur. They were not champions, but they finished with a win in their final game. He reported that he played well and is glad to be back in AR. I’m gonna be glad to see him tonight. The prodigal son of mine returned home last night. It was nice to see his face again. I like having my big babies all under the same roof.

Alright gang. That’s about it for this Monday report. Except I’m crying all the cries because my arms are hurting all the hurts thanks to the weed-eater. WHY MUST IT WEIGH 20BILLION POUNDS? #ouch.

parenting ain’t easy.

c9579d13b4d68148f452ece83e014311Even when your kid is an adult (legally, that is.)

I’ve always encouraged my kids to find themselves. To find a dream and pursue it and most of all, to find happiness and keep it.

The key to happiness is always going to be from within, so for me, the most important life lesson I can teach them is to be happy. I’ve often said I don’t care how you get there, or when you get there, just get there. I remember as a teen, not knowing what I wanted to be as an adult, and feeling caught between two worlds. The world where I couldn’t disappoint my parents and the world where I couldn’t find my footing for fear of disappointing my parents.

So I did everything in my power to fulfill my parents desires. I went to school. (failed my first year of college, went to another school, graduated summa cum laude) then went back to my original school and did the same. Graduated with honors.

And I was miserable for the next 10 years because I didn’t have focus, or drive, or any idea what I wanted to be now that I was an adult.

I don’t wish that on anyone. Especially my children.

We’re at a crossroads with my oldest. He’s not working, and he needs to be. He is looking–and he’s looking hard. I’ve been helping him for months. He’s a teenager–so he makes stupid decisions sometimes. Didn’t we all? I talk to him every day. I don’t nag him or yell at him because he responds negatively to that and shuts down. He’s just oppositional enough that he will do exactly the opposite of what you want if you bark at him and chastise him. I’ve learned over the years to talk to him like an adult and try to give him the room to make mistakes and learn from them. I’ve supported him financially and emotionally. And I will continue to do so for a little while longer.

I may be making a mistake by parenting him this way, but threats don’t work. They never have! I used to call him a chameleon child. It didn’t matter the punishment you doled out, he adapted to it. We took EVERYTHING out of his room one time–he played with pennies he found in the corner. We offered to pay him for his grades; that wasn’t motivating. We yelled, spanked, tore our hair out…he didn’t change anything. He’s adaptable. He needs to do things himself. So I’m trying so hard to let him.

But damn, I sometimes just want to scream at him. Luckily for both of us, I’m smarter than that. I learned a long time ago that doesn’t work. That I had to adapt my parenting style to accommodate his personality and learning style. (I just wish others could do the same…)

He and I have a great relationship. When we talk, he’s honest as am I. He needs to get his shit together, and he knows it. He’s working on it…on his time. And I’m fighting with everything in my being to allow him to do that, because I remember being that kid. Stuck between childhood and adulthood, wanting to please my parents…wanting to do what was right…and losing myself in the end. But if I allow him to do this himself, he’ll be a better man for it.

Ugh.

Parenting ain’t easy.

ANYONE CAN BE KILLED

If you haven’t watched season 3, episode 9 of Game of Thrones yet, WHY ARE YOU EVEN ON THE INTERNET? Anyway, here’s the very unnecessary “Spoiler Alert” message.

Continue reading

Ruby Tuesday!

Welcome to Tuesday! Where I will, from now on, feature a new pitiful picture of my pug RUBY.

WHY SO SAD RUBY? Oh never mind, you just caught up on the Red Wedding, didn't you?

WHY SO SAD RUBY? Oh never mind, you just caught up on the Red Wedding, didn’t you?

Oh, Ruby. It’s so hard being you.

Sunday morning, I finally tried to pull myself out of bed and was all “It’s time to get out of bed, Ruby.” And this was her response:

pitifully shuffle on her belly to my leg, and “flump” her head down with a giant sigh, in the crook of my knee while staring at me with such a wretched stare, that I had to lie back to overcome the sadness.

the sadness--it overtakes you.

the sadness–it overtakes you.

I read this article today about a large-breasted teen who was denied entry to her prom because her boobs were too big. She was told to wear a wrap around her shoulders or she wouldn’t be allowed entrance.

I feel your pain, sister. Your back pain, that is...

I feel your pain, sister. Your back pain, that is…

Her parents are asking for a public apology because they don’t feel the “no cleavage” rule was actually being fairly enforced. As her mother said “All women are not created equal, and you can not compare a golf ball to a grapefruit. It ain’t gonna happen.”

Damn right.

That dress is very age appropriate and lovely. Shame on that school for shaming her for what she comes by naturally.

This stupid head cold of mine is trying to kick my ass. And now, I’ve spread my germs to Jefe. We are THE HOUSE OF THE INFECTED. Enter at your own risk.

My mom called from Down Under yesterday. She’s having a great time! They were just at The Ayers Rock and were heading to Queensland. She’s going to New Zealand soon. All-in-all she will be Down Under for almost a month! I’m so happy that she’s fulfilling her dream! Let’s hope that when I’m 74, I’ll be able to rock life like she does. IF THIS STUPID COLD LET’S ME LIVE THAT LONG.

 

feeling swell

First off, thank you for all the wonderful comments about yesterday’s post. Many of us had a nice discussion on Facebook and I also received a couple of private messages that meant the world to me.  We all have stuff that lingers from our past, and we all have different ways to cope. In high school, my coping mechanism was to be happy no matter what in public. I ignored all the ugly remarks about the size of my butt, BUT, they never went away.

“She’s so chunky, you have to eat her with a fork.”

“Chunky, chunky 2 by 4, can’t get through the kitchen door.”

I made myself believe the people who said those things to me were just ‘ribbing’ me. Like they would one of the guys. And so then, I became one of the guys. Because THAT was the safest thing to do. If you’re one of the guys, then you don’t expect to get a boyfriend. You’re not going to, anyway. Boys don’t like curvy girls. So I threw a football better than most dudes, I played all the sports and became better friends with the boys than I did with most of the girls. I also threw myself into every extracurricular activity I could, from Student Senate to Class Officer. I was the most unpopular popular kid in high school.

It’s funny, our perceptions of each other growing up. I felt like nobody knew me, like I was just so-n-so’s sidekick, I was the fat friend with a good personality, the pity date, the third wheel.  So when I went to college, I still had this weird, self-perception.

But now, 30 years later, even though I fight those old feelings, I actually feel pretty fucking swell. I’ve got some amazing friends, a super amazing boyfriend and my kids–I survived high school so I could be the kind of mom I am today. And I wake up happy everyday (even when I don’t want to get out of bed because the sleep won’t leave my face!) It’s nice, this swellness I have on my inside parts.

I think that’s why I get so bent out of shape about bullying these days. And I’m not even talking about mean kids being mean. That sucks and it needs to be stopped. I’m talking about adult bullying kids but calling it ‘parenting.’ If your kid goes through life feeling worthless because you called her a whore for wearing too much makeup to a party or an inappropriate dress or you tell her girls with those size thighs can’t wear those skirts…or girls with no boobs shouldn’t put on boob dresses….then you’re being a bully. You’re not parenting, you’re shaming. My parents are amazing grandparents, but when I had the boys, I made it very clear to them… they were never to feel shame for asking questions or wearing something that looked horrible but they picked it out themselves. They were never to be called names EVER. Because shaming is not good parenting. Luckily, I broke free of that pattern, but a lot of kids grow up to be the same kind of parents… It’s not fair to their kids.

/soap box for the day

Have I shown y’all my summer look? Or what I PLAN to be my summer look?

b565857d7fcc88210771ed351333ced1I’m gonna rock this look all summer long, and sparkle while I’m doing it…

This picture inspired me… :

480900_451243814958361_1530752660_nHow to get a bikini body: PUT A BIKINI ON YOUR BODY. Yeah yeah, that’s actually a 2-piece not a bikini. I’m confident but not THAT confident. LOL

Anyway, y’all do something kind for yourself today. And smile. You know smiling is contagious…right?

When Thin was In…

This is not a “bagging on the skinny chicks” post, so please, don’t take it that way. If you do, then you probably ought to do a little self examination of your own. Everyone needs love themselves for who they are…and to help myself with that,  I’m endeavoring to write more honestly, to use my blog in a way that will help me on my path to physical health. And part of good physical health is emotional health, and writing is very good for me emotionally.

And I need to explore my past to improve my future. Please excuse me while I slice open a vein…

I am an 80s girl through and through. And, if you were an 80s kid with me, you know that decade was not made for curvy people.

Every pant was high-waisted and tapered. No hips allowed. And for those of us with an hour-glass figure, we had to buy pants a size too big and then have our MeMa dart the waist by at least an inch. (what? Only me?) No wonder everyone thought I was fat. I was relegated to Chic and Lee Jeans. UGH. The horror.

il_fullxfull.452142843_dewy il_224xN.447391093_jv5g

Yes, I was told weekly by my basketball coach that I was fat and needed to get to a goal weight of 118-125. I weighed 135-140, was 5’6 and played 2 hours + of basketball a day.

But I was “fat” because I had tits, hips and thighs.

Mel 8th Grade BBall

Please ignore the mullet.

Look at “Fat Mel” from 8th grade. Yeah. I know. Ridiculous.

But think about what kind of damage hearing how fat you are when you weigh 135-140 lbs when you’re 14 years old. That number is always my “fat” number, mentally. So imagine how bad I felt about myself several years ago when I was 100 lbs over my “fat” number? Talk about self-esteem issues!

The other problem with the 80s’ idea of the perfect physical shape was the clothing.

I wanted to be the girl who could wear the White Patch Levis. You know the ones I’m talking about, right? The ones only the hot girls could wear? (At least, in my mind those were the only girls who could wear them. The skinny girls with no hips.)

il_fullxfull.297862858And I wanted to be in the club. I wanted to be a broomstick, not a brick house. Because in those days, girls were shamed into believing they needed to change their bodies to fit in. Coaches snatched our candy bars from our hands and told us we needed to eat more salads–NO DRESSING. Daddies told us we’d never find a boy if we didn’t lose weight and compared us to our friends. “Why can’t you be more like them?” It didn’t matter if the friend they were comparing you to was having sex, doing drugs, boozing it up, smoking cigarettes, or failing school… it mattered that they looked good in their basketball, softball, cheerleader, you name it Uniform. And of course, in their White Patch Levis.

I spent a lot of time covering myself up, trying to hide my body. I wore sweat pants and t-shirts almost everyday. I used the excuse of having only 5 minutes between the end of school and the beginning of basketball practice to change, but the reality was, my clothes became my wall. I developed a witty sense of humor and had friends from every walk of life (which I’m grateful for, to this day) and I pretended to not care what anyone thought about me. I got good at feigning confidence. But at night, when I was alone, I would flip through the Spiegel and Esprit  catalogs and pray that my hips would go away. Those magazine pages (especially the swimsuit ones) were tear-stained and ruined by the end of the 80s.

What a horrible thing to do to a child. To put such unrealistic ideals in their heads and to make them ashamed of their body shape. To try to force them into being just like everyone else. Those expectations are hard to overcome, even as an adult.

I’m 44 years old. I’m 60 lbs over my current ideal weight and I have never loved myself more, nor have I ever felt sexier.

But it has taken a LONG time for me to get here, and trust me when I tell you, I still struggle everyday with loving myself for who I am. Not because I’m not awesome (I’m totally awesome) but because in the back of my mind, I’m still the 14 year old girl who just wants to be skinny so people will approve of her.

I think we have come a long way in the fat-shaming world, BUT we’re not fully there yet. If we were, things like Mike Jeffries saying “fat chicks” can’t be one of the “cool kids” wouldn’t happen. Shaming children in any way is wrong. One of the things I swore I’d do as a parent was to build my kids up for who they are and teach them to celebrate their individuality and revel in the differences of others. And they both do that, rather well, thankfully.

I tell you all of this to let you know the reason I still struggle with my weight. Not because I’m worried about being “fat” because I’m not. I’m sexy. The dudes dig me (and the chicks, too, tyvm) and frankly, I dig myself. I struggle with my weight because ultimately, I want to be healthier. I’m a very fit fat girl. What I want to be is just fit. There’s always going to be someone who thinks of me as the “fat girl” and that’s okay. They can label me however they want, that’s their problem, not mine. I’ve spent 30 years overcoming trying to live up to everyone else’s expectations, but I’ve finally given up trying to please anyone but myself. That is so freeing.

Welcome to my world, folks. I’m a little damaged, but I’m not broken. My extra padding has protected me.

smoooove

So, I’ve been on an eternal quest for a healthier lifestyle…for oh, let’s say, eternity.

In March, I added a new skin care regime, because as I lose weight, it is highly possibly that I’ll get wrinkles. And as a woman of 44 years, who still gets carded on a regular basis, the last thing I need or want is to get wrinkles. At least, not yet.

I’ve been using Meaningful Beauty for 3 full months now, and this is me today, without any makeup on and no filters.

Today: No makeup. Fewer laugh lines and crows feet

Today: No makeup. Fewer laugh lines and crows feet

Not too bad for a 44 year old broad, huh? I was trying to find a good comparison picture. I found 1 that would work, but I have full makeup and glasses on so it was difficult to see the difference around the eyes. However the difference around the mouth is pretty significant.

Now, I purchased this product, so MB isn’t paying me anything to review it. Here’s what I have to say.

Yes, my skin looks fantastic and feels SMOOOOOOVE like a baby’s bottom. I’ve noticed a definite fading of crow’s feet and my laugh lines (which I actually love) are noticeably less prominent. I have no issues going without makeup (even though I need new lashes ASAP. Has anyone seen my eyes? Yeah, me either.)

I’m not a huge fan of the cleansing lotion. It doesn’t foam or bubble up, and I feel like I’m having to use more of it than I should. The kit doesn’t come with a night cream, so I use the day cream at night. That’s a huge disappointment. You have the option to ‘customize’ your kit and can add the night cream that way.

I also do not like the “club” set up, however, I have my automatic delivery for 20 weeks, which I can change at any time if I run low. That’s a nice option. Most “clubs” force your into a 90 Day /12 week automatic delivery.

The price point isn’t bad, especially if you set up your delivery for 4 months or more. I don’t need to use a lot of product, one little dab will do ya… or at least it does me. I’ve decided to keep using the product for at least one more round.

In Eating Cleaner news:

I fired up the grill and loaded it with some awesome locally grown veggies this weekend. Sweet potatoes, asparagus, okra, squash, green beans, tomatoes. I also grilled some pineapple, which was oh so yummy. We ate very well this weekend, let me tell ya.

I walked every day for an hour. Monday was hard because Sunday I had some girlfriends over and we enjoyed muy wine. I’ll have you know, I still did not go over my calories for the day, thankyouverymuch.

In OMG how awesome news, I met Ian’s friend-girl this week. (OMG, she’s adorbs). I’m not sure if they’re going to officially ‘date’ or not, it’s really not my business yet (it won’t be until it’s her birthday or Christmas, and then I’ll need to know if I need to buy her a present or not. Haha) But anyway, we were all hanging out on Wednesday and we were talking about parents and parenting styles etc., and I made a comment that sometimes parents have really high expectations of their kids and no matter what they accomplish, it won’t be enough because they expect more. (this is a concept I don’t understand as a parent, but I understand as a kid of those parents.) I said, “for example, I’ve published two young adult novels with a very prestigious publisher, and sometimes I think my mom still thinks I could do better.” She stopped and looked at me and said, “Wait. You’re Melissa Francis? As in BITE ME AND LOVE SUCKS Melissa Francis?”

Me: Yep.

Friend-Girl: OMG I LOVE YOUR BOOKS!! I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU’RE THAT MELISSA FRANCIS.

Me: Happy happy joy joy can’t stop smiling.

And in other O517I1Qi7nnL._SY300_MG Awesome News…I got to see my Stacey Jay this weekend! Have you pre-ordered her latest book yet? WHY NOT?

OF BEAST AND BEAUTY

order it. devour it. review it. and email Stacey and tell her she is made of awesome. (because she totes is).

Find Stacey on Facebook

Stacey on the web

Stacey on Twitter: @stacey_jay

Okay, there’s my weekend recap. It was a great weekend. The boys enjoyed Riverfest. Jefe and I enjoyed each other and the beautiful weather, and I also enjoyed my girl time with some of my besties. Life doesn’t suck.