One of the most notable things about the state of Oklahoma is our weather. If you were to listen in on any one of a dozen conversations, at any one of a dozen places around here, you will hear at least 11 of them commenting in some way on the weather. ;) A common saying is "if you don't like the weather, just wait 5 minutes". Two weeks ago I was watching loads of sports wrapped up in 10 layers of clothes with a blanket on top! Today I spent the day watching the big one play tennis in shorts and a tank top. Apparently I sweated all of my dutifully applied sunscreen off in about the first 30 minutes. I know this because I am now sporting some sweet new tan lines. ;) This off color shade of pink I have on my arms and legs is much better than the offensive shade of orange I had two days ago.
On Wednesday of this week I went against all that is good and holy in the world and gave the old sunless self tanner one more shot. This is not my first foray into the world of sunless tanners, no, not even close to the first. I have been thru no less than 17 different brands of new wonder products that promise the perfect shade of tan in a short amount of time without any sun exposure at all. The previous 16 times were a complete failure resulting in my skin turning out every conceivable shade of orange. Why I thought this new product would be "the one" is beyond my current comprehension. What was I thinking? I mean really...what. was. i. thinking. But alas, the promise of golden bronze skin while the weather is still waffling between frigid and sweat lured me in once again. This one is a gel! Oh yes, a gel...that HAS to be better than those old stinky lotions. I am confident this will make me a sun goddess without the sun. They have certainly concocted the perfect formula of chemicals that will rub on smoothly without the appearance of bruise like spots on my knees and ankles. Uh huh...sure thing. First I shower and carefully (ie..painfully) exfoliate my skin down to some sort of sub dermis level which I fear is very close to the bone. I'm sure my previous failures have been the lack of a good scrub before application. Right. Then I apply the gel exactly as directed on the packaging. I am meticulous about following the instructions this time because if it wasn't the lack of exfoliation in previous orange debacles, it was me not following instructions. I admit, I have been known to "skim" things I read and then guess at all the details that I supposedly just went thru thourghoughly. ;) When I am finished with the application, taking special care to not over apply to the knees and ankles, I wash my hands diligently. Orange palms are a dead giveaway that you've been experimenting with the self tanners. ;) Then I wait. I'm pretty excited about this because I've heard at least 11 people say it will be in the 90's by Friday, and I want to be bronzed up and ready to go by then! About 6 hours later I'm ready to check out these gorgeous gams of mine. As I gaze down at my legs a feeling of complete horror comes over me. Panic is tightening my throat and clenching my stomach. I feel sick. My legs are orange...Oh yes they are...orange. I look like an orangutang from the waist down. Upon further inspection I notice that one of my knees looks like it belongs to a 5 year old boy who has just received his first scooter. I'm thinking this can't get much worse...then I turn the lights on. ;) My left foot is completely brown, like really tan beautiful brown. Well fabulous, the new wonder gel worked...on one 3 inch square patch of skin. ;) Awesome. Btw, did you know that you can exfoliate those self tanners right off? It might take a stiff piece of sand paper, but it will come off leaving some surprisingly soft skin. Best be careful because that baby soft skin is pretty sensitive to sun if you were to be outside for a long period of time, say watching your big kid play 3 tennis matches. ;)
This afternoon the boys decided it would be a great idea to take a swim. First swim of the season...always a big deal! Didn't seem to bother them one bit that the pool looks like it should be sitting in the parking lot of a Motel 6. Blech. Did no one notice that the water is a greenish color and you can't really see the bottom in the deep end? That didn't cause any one of the three of you some concern? They informed me that it was "all good cuz they weren't opening their eyes in there." Instead of starting a big harry argument with the three of them I decided on another strategy to get them out of there. Gazing down at the nasty water I casually threw out, "Hmmm, I can't really see too good in there, wonder what kind of critters might be enjoying a swim too, may even be a little snake down there swimming around. Huh." Mission accomplished, everyone out of the pool in T minus 2 seconds. The big one gave me a big eye roll like he was on to my trickery, but he still dried off and went inside real quick. ;) Looks like Bud has a busy weekend of baseball and pool chemicals in his future!
The wine of the day is Three Blind Moose chardonnay. I love to sip on a nice crisp chardonnay lounging by the pool on a beautiful evening. Feels like I'm on a vacation...at the Motel 6. I wonder if this would make the list of "you know you're a redneck when"... you are drinking wine from a dixie cup by your green pool with orange legs. :)) Just kidding on the dixie cup, of course. ;)
The W(h)ine Hour..
Every household has one…the whine hour. It’s those bewitching hours between approximately 5 and 8pm in the evening when the kids go crazy and moms across the world lose their minds completely. It doesn’t matter if you have babies, toddlers, kids, tweens, or teens; those hours of dinner/homework/bath time/ bedtime can just about do a momma in. What is a girl to do? It’s simple and brilliant actually, just slip in a little wine of your own! Now, I’m not suggesting anyone down a bottle of whiskey everyday between the hours of 5 and 8, in fact if you do that you will have a few whine hours of your own the next morning. Basically, a little wine during the whine hours will keep you out of the padded cell at the local cookoo house where people will walk by and peek in your little window and say things like “aww, poor mom has lost her marbles” and “hmmm, now that’s a crazy one right there, sits in there all day and hits herself over the head with a Barbie and a hotwheel”. Don’t smirk, it can happen.
So, enjoy the tales of my whine hour, and how I survive each and everyone of one of them with a sense of humor and a good bottle of wine! After all, the whine hour comes around every single day, a girl has to be prepared!