HERstory - Not HIStory

By Tonia
"Well-behaved women rarely make history." - Laurel Thatcher Ulrich

I’m not a man-hater. (Really. I appreciate men naked in my bed as discussion partners.) But it is true that they still dominate – in the family, in law, in politics, in business, in government .... and in history. Women’s history month (March) is our opportunity to recognize women in history and to celebrate smart, gutsy and out-spoken women from the past.

When history is only told by the testosteronely-maranated half of the human race, the other side of the story is lost and the record is skewed. For example, Joan of Arc was not burned at the stake for heresy; she was burned because she wore men’s clothing. And Florence Nightengale was not known as the Lady with the Lamp; she was known as the Lady with the Hammer because she broke into supply rooms for medicines for her patients. And did you know that the owner of the Round Table was not Arthur but Guenevere? Duh. If Arthur had furnished the table he would have sat at the head and it would have been held together with duct tape.

Our current male version of prehistory gives credit to men for providing food to the tribe since they were the hunters. Hunting may have been a fun way to hang out with the guys but it was not efficient. Meat from a hunt came irregularly and could not be stored. It was women’s gathering (not men’s hunting) that sustained the tribe.

In honor of Women’s History Month, Estrofests celebrates women in history – especially the unruly, unmanageable ones - the ones who claimed their own bodies and who could not be silenced. Here are a few of our favs:

Princess Khutulun was described by Marco Polo as the greatest warrior in Kubla Khan's army. She announced that she would marry any man who could beat her at wrestling. However, if they lost they would have to give her 100 horses. She died unmarried with 10,000 horses.

Lady Godiva appealed to her husband, Earl Leofric of Mercia, over and over again to reduce his oppressive taxes on the people of Coventry. Weary of her nagging, he agreed - if she would ride naked through the streets (perv). When she did indeed ride naked, he removed all oppressive taxes.

Mae West, actress, playwright, producer, director, and sex goddess, never allowed her critics or her censors to sway her from being herself and maintaining strong artistic control over her work. When her apartment manager refused to let her African-American boyfriend enter her apartment, Mae simply bought the entire building.

So get your girlfriends together, dress up as unruly women in history, and inspire one another with the stories of smart, gutsy and out-spoken heroines! And to further inspire you, click HERE for a music video paying homage to Alice Paul and the generations of courageous women who fought to pass the 19th Amendment, women's right to vote. And tell us which women YOU admire from HERstory!

Bad Girls Badminton

by Tonia

“It’s the good girls who keep diaries; the bad girls never have the time.” – Tallulah Bankhead

I'm not much of a cook. In fact, I wanted to turn my kitchen into an extra bedroom until someone reminded me that I needed a refrigerator for martinis. So why I was in charge of making the Cherries Jubilee for Bad Girls’ Badminton is still a mystery. And why I didn’t go look up a recipe is .... well .... probably because I was more interested in creating my Lisa Novak* costume than cooking. I knew, of course, that I needed cherries and alcohol. What could be easier? So, on the evening of the party, I threw a couple cans of cherries and a bottle of rum in a pan and lit it. It burned … and it burned …. and it burned …. and it burned. Everyone was smiling and waiting …. and waiting. Someone commented on what a great fire it was and suggested we roast marshmallows. Bitch. Finally smothered the flames with a lid and served the blackened cherries with ice cream and LOTS of warm rum still left in the pan.

So what IS a Bad Girls’ Badminton party? It is a fabulous girlfriends get-together that encourages  releasing your inner Bad Girl - you know the one - she’s in there cursing, getting laid, breaking a few rules. At the party we dress up as various Bad Girls and spend an evening whacking cocks….I mean, SHUTTLEcocks. OK, OK, you can call them BIRDIES.

But an important rule in our version of badminton is whenever someone misses hitting the shuttlecock (and this will happen FREQUENTLY) she has to curse with an original curse word – nothing that anyone has heard before. Each new curse word is then written down by the Curse Word Keeper. When the matches are over, the Curse Word Keeper selects her top 10 favorite curse words and the group votes to determine the #1 winning curse. Some of our winners have been “douch fart” and “syphilis stick.” Would love to hear yours!

*Lisa Novak, as you may remember, was the astronaut that drove from Houston to Orlando to confront her rival. She wore a diaper so she would not have to stop on the way. She was charged with attempted vehicle burglary, battery, and destruction of evidence.

Mommies Gone Wild

by Rachel

I am so outdated on piercings, I’m like a school marm from the 1950s. I have one hole in my left earlobe and one hole in my right earlobe. Talk about no imagination! So a few nights ago four girlfriends and I decided to get our belly buttons pierced. I know, I know, it wasn’t our nipples, but, hey, we wanted to be able to go public.

We piled into my friend’s minivan (nothing says cool like minivan) and went to a popular tattoo parlor - not to be confused with beauty parlor, ice cream parlor, or funeral parlor. We were greeted by a seedy looking building with bright neon lights, black tinted windows and pictures of dragons, skulls and swords. As we walked in, we heard a few snickers. OK, we might have looked a bit out of place with our mom jeans, striped sweaters and purses as big as diaper bags. Mr. I-Love-Pain-So-Cover-Me-In-500-Tattoos asked where the filming crew was for the “mommy’s gone wild” group. 

It was decided that I would go 2nd (the order being based on who was most likely to chicken out - I was voted the 2nd most likely to bolt). When it was my turn, I tried to do my Lamaze breathing and squeeze my friends’ hands but I couldn’t muffle the screams. The Inflictor rolled his eyes and muttered some rude comment under his breath. 

Got home and woke my husband to show him my piercing. He said I must be having an early mid-life crisis and asked if I was going to come home after every girls’ night out with a new piercing or tattoo.  Hmmmm…. Maybe an eyebrow or nose next? Nah, I will probably just stick with the ears and navel. 

But, if you and your girlfriends are considering a Girls' Night Out for tattoos or piercings, here is a little decision-making questionnaire for you:

-  Have I wanted this for more than five minutes?

-  Am I sober?

-  Do I miss the pain of childbirth or need to cry?

-  Have I taken my anti-psychotic medication today?

If you answered "Yes" to all of these, grab those girlfriends and some Liquid Courage (straight vodka is recommended) and go for it! And tell us about it!

Gratitude Attitude

by Tonia

“Life is like a sewer... what you get out of it depends on what you put into it.”
- Tom Lehrer

“I feel a very unusual sensation - if it is not indigestion, I think it must be gratitude.” – Benjamin Disraeli

I was recently challenged by a friend to consider writing down three gratitudes each day. I guess research shows that gratitude is linked to life satisfaction, self-esteem, hope, empathy and vitality. Who couldn’t use more of that?? My friend and I decided to text our gratitudes to each other for accountability. Crap - now I really had to do it! But I’m a big believer in positive thinking – positive thinking with a big irreverent, provocative twist. Here are some of my gratitudes:

I am grateful….

…..when I’ve peed just prior to a good laugh. It saves laundry.

…..that I am at an age where I can afford good vodka instead of that fermented potato water crap.

…..that no one can read the thought bubbles in my head. It saves me from sexual harassment charges.

…..for long-lasting batteries in my vibrator because … well, sometimes it just takes awhile ...

…..for the words “Fuck” and “Shit” because “Douchfart” and “Syphilis Stick” take too long to say and “Darn” just isn’t satisfying.

…..that long shirts are back in style because my muffin top just isn’t Pillsbury Boy cute.

…..for indoor plumbing - otherwise I’d be in deep shit more than I already am.

…..that no one shows up for my pity parties. They’re not Estrofests fun.

…..for the ability to laugh at myself because I never cease to be amused and entertained.

But I really do believe in intentional gratitude. So encourage your girlfriends to take the 30 Day Gratitude Challenge. Have them keep a daily journal of personal gratitudes and  then throw a party at the end of the 30 days to talk about it.

Ask everyone to bring a dish that they are grateful for. Create a gratitude tree as a decoration. Write each girlfriends name on a leaf and what you appreciate about her. Then talk about your journals. Here are some discussion questions:

- What did you learn about yourself as you wrote down daily gratitudes?

- What were the obstacles to keeping the journal? How did you overcome them? What does that say about you?

- Did you ever reflect back on previous gratitudes once you had written them down? What was that like?

- Did you ever share your gratitidudes with anyone? Who? Why? What was the outcome?

- Did you see any themes in your gratitudes (people, abilities, objects, etc)? What do you think this says about you?

Now tell us what YOU are grateful for in the comments below!

“You need to learn how to select your thoughts just the same way you select your clothes every day. This is a power you can cultivate. If you want to control things in your life, work on the mind.” – Elizabeth Gilbert, Eat, Pray, Love

Room Motherzilla

by Rachel

I’m one of THOSE moms. The kind you love to hate. I’m a driven, obsessive-compulsive, competitive, do-it-up-big, overachieving, get-the-hell-out-of-my-way mom. If I could keep this at home I might actually get my closets cleaned but NOOOOOOOO, I have to take it public. I’m a homeroom mother.

As homeroom mother I organized the 3rd grade Valentine’s party this year. Spending weeks and weeks and weeks in preparation, my husband threatened to put valium in my coffee if I didn’t chill out. I. Couldn’t. Stop. Myself.

After all the prep work, it took me three trips to the school to unload all of the party crap items. Then I had to negotiate extra set-up time from the teacher because I had so much party crap stuff. When I actually got to the room and hurriedly started setting up, I broke out in a sweat. I then realized that, in my haste, I forgot to put on deodorant. No time now to run home. Had to improvise. I decided to use some anti-bacterial wipes.

As I was scrubbing my armpits with the vigor of an adolescent boy with his joy stick, the principal walked in. We made eye contact - followed by weeks moments of painful silence. I couldn’t think of anything to say other than “Would you like a wipe?”

The actual party was like crack sugar-addicted kids gone psychotic. That’s what happens when overachieving moms bring too many desserts. The Cupid game which was supposed to be kids shooting arrows at targets (but was modified due to the school’s no weapons policy) became the Cupid dart gun riot. Using straws to blow Q-tips, Q-tips flew flew through the air like poison darts in an African hunt!

When the party was over other parents had to load party crap gear in their cars and follow me home because, of course, it wouldn’t all fit in my car. Overachiever does NOT equal perfect mom. In fact, perfect moms are a myth – kind of like men who genuinely want to help out around the house – they don’t exist.

For your next girlfriends party, make these fabulous chocolate chip cookies and keep the Q-tips out of the kitchen:

Divine Chocolate Chip Cookies

½ cup cocoa powder

2 cups all-purpose flour

1 cup softened butter

1 teaspoon baking soda

½ teaspoon salt

¾ cup brown sugar

¾ cup white sugar

2 eggs

1.5 teaspoon vanilla extract

1 package of chocolate chips

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Mix the cocoa powder, flour, baking soda, and salt. In a separate bowl, cream the sugars, butter, eggs and vanilla. Stir in the flour mixture. Add the chocolate chips. Drop by heaped teaspoonfuls onto ungreased baking sheets. Bake 9 to 12 minutes, or until edges are golden brown. Allow to cool on the baking sheet for 1 minute prior to placing on a wire rack to cool completely.

Naked at the YMCA

Estrofests is thrilled to host guest blogger, Kerry Rossow. Kerry is a hilarious house blogger. If there is anything you want to know about houses and were too afraid to ask, she's your woman!  http://housetalkn.blogspot.com/ 

by Kerry Rossow

I've noticed some beautiful Valentine this year. Not one to be outdone, I thought I would share an ode to my mister. There are those moments in a marriage when you take that snapshot in your mind ...  the "This is why I love him" moments. Here’s mine:

We had taken our four little darlings to the YMCA for some family basketball and a quick swim. As we were winding up our nightly shenanigans visit, my mister offered, "Why don't I take the kids home and you stay here to relax in the women's hot tub?" By the time he uttered "hot tub" I was already sprinting toward the "Women Only" sign. In my rush I forgot that I had (literally) left my mister holding the bag - the bag with all of our suits - the bag with MY suit. I spent the next 37 seconds having a mental argument with myself. Here is a sampling of the thoughts that were flying through my head:

 - "It's almost closing time...I bet everyone else is gone already."
 - "I. Cannot. Get. In. There. Naked!" 
 - "Just do it, stop being a chicken!" 
 - "God is smiting me for making fun of the casually naked folks that stand around the locker room talking/drying hair/applying make-up/doing jumping jacks -while naked- as if doing these things NAKED is totally normal. Would you do these things while naked in front of house guests or in any other setting?" 

 - "Look what has happened to me! I'm afraid to get naked all by my d**n self in a women's locker room hot tub."

I finally threw caution to the wind, stripped down and climbed into the hot tub. A full 6 seconds passed before I heard the dreaded squeak of the door. I quickly positioned myself so that the intruder would not be able to see my ... er, situation.

Big mistake.

As Ms. Stepford bounced into the hot tub, in full make-up, coiffed hair and her very appropriate tankini, she was unprepared for what awaited her. Her smile quickly faded as we both stared at the wall for answers. She lasted in the hot tub for 9 seconds. She didn't even warn the young swimmer that she knocked over on her way out. 

That's right. 

Next up- a college hard body swimmer type. She also met the sneak attack. Not having the sophistication of Ms. Stepford to look away, Ms. Hard Body actually gawked. I could see that this was going to be a standoff. She was either too competitive to bolt or she was frozen with fear. I contemplated an attempt at conversation. What would I say? "Just you wait, this will happen to your body, too?" I knew that "You want a piece of this?" could be misconstrued. It was the creak of the door that put me over the edge ... sent me into naked freak out land. I couldn't take it anymore. I panicked. I bolted. As I was leaping over Ms. Hard Body Gawker, I assured myself that it couldn't get any worse.

Wrong.

The newest addition to my hell was a woman with a headscarf. The very picture of modesty had entered the YMCA locker room precisely in time to see a naked American woman flying through the air.  It took another 13 seconds to get dressed and perform the run of shame to the lobby. I was shocked to see that my family had just reached the lobby. Had all of that just happened in such a short amount of time? Was I in the Twilight Zone? 

Here is the part about why I love my husband. Besides the part about family YMCA nights, and besides the part about taking the kids home. My mister took one look at me and knew that this was no time for silly questions. He spoke the sweetest, most romantic words ever. "Kids, run for the van!" 

My gal pals and I look for any old reason to par-taay together. As the resident hillbilly, I host "Drinks in the driveway." My decorator friend hosts "Cocktails on the veranda." Our sporty friend plans "Get your game on tailgates" and now we apparently need to add "Get your clothes on!" par-taays. Here's a drink for it:

Ladies Only!

10 fresh mint leaves

1/2 lime, cut into 4 wedges

2 tablespoons sugar - or to taste

1 cup ice cubes

1 1/2 fluid ounces white rum

1/2 cup club soda

Directions:

Place mint leaves and 1 lime wedge into a sturdy glass. Use a muddler to crush the mint and lime to release the mint oils and lime juice. Add 2 more lime wedges and the sugar, and muddle again to release the lime juice. Do not strain the mixture. Fill the glass almost to the top with ice. Pour the rum over the ice and fill the glass with club soda. Stir, taste, and add more sugar if desired. Garnish with remaining lime wedge.

Kerry Rossow blogs at HouseTalkN where life's important questions are answered. Questions like, "When folks build a McMansion on a small lot, what are they compensating for?" or "Was the real estate agent drunk when they staged this house?" or "Why don't the Smiths' ever leave their drapes open when I am on a harmless walk-by?" Check out her blog HERE You'll be glad you did!

Singles Awareness Day – aka Valentines

By Tonia

“If love is blind, why is lingerie so popular?”
- Anonymous

I don't understand why Cupid is Valentine’s representative. First of all, Cupid is a GUY – and most guys are not exactly experts in romance. Second of all, when I think about falling in love, I DON’T think of a chubby, half naked toddler aiming a weapon at me. And, lastly, has anyone noticed that Cupid rhymes with Stupid?

APHRODITE should be the symbol for Valentine’s Day. She was the Greek goddess of love. Instead of flying around shooting people, she actually brought a statue to life when the sculptor, Pygmalion, fell in love with it. THAT’S a love story!

I’ve recently reentered the dating scene - not to be confused with a crime scene. If Cupids are shooting at me I’m feeling the attack and not so much the love. On one recent first date the guy got mad at me for paying half the bill, threw my coat at me and walked out of the restaurant. You’d think he’d be happy saving some money! Another guy canceled our date before we even met because I didn’t answer his text message quick enough. (And they say WOMEN are emotional! Geez.)

So obviously I’m dateless on Valentines Day. But whether you’re coupled or single, celebrate your love for girlfriends by having a Girlfriends Valentines party. Use the party to -

(1) Celebrate healthy hearts by serving heart-healthy foods and disseminating information from the American Heart Association. Have everyone wear red.

OR

(2)  Revel in some naughtiness by drawing names ahead of time and doing a gift exchange of lucky red panties. Distribute playful discussion cards to keep conversations mischievous. Here are some starters:

Who is your dream lover?

If you could kiss a celebrity, who would it be?

What is your favorite romantic destination?

What is your most romantic dream?

What is your wildest sexual fantasy?

Who was your first crush?

What is the wildest thing that you have done, ever?

What is the craziest pick up line that you have ever heard?

What is the craziest pick up line that you have used?

Have you ever lied to your partner to avoid sex?

Scouting for Cookies

By Rachel

"Chocolate is an antidepressant, which is especially useful as you start to gain weight."  ~Jason Love

It’s here! The time that we harass and stalk our friends, relatives, neighbors, and any stranger that crosses our path - to buy Girl Scout cookies. My daughter LOVES being a Girl Scout, but I would rather put my hand through a meat grinder than try to hawk cookies. Here’s this year’s story:

Since I am a tax widow from Feb. 1 - April 15 (hubby is a CPA), I had to take my four year old son with us when we went door-to-door peddling the damn cookies. He was great for about the first 15 minutes (well, ALMOST 15 minutes) but then he discovered the excitement of going house-to-house ringing doorbells. He decided that HE was the only one who should ring the doorbells - which did NOT set well with his sister. So, each time we approached a house, the two of them made a mad dash to the front door, knocking over pots, yard art and anything in their way. One poor woman opened her door to a fist fight when my son punched his sister because she got there first and rang the doorbell. He was sent promptly to the wagon for “time out” but proceeded to open and sample three boxes of cookies while I wasn’t looking.

Between my kids sneaking boxes to their room and my own secret addiction to Samoas and Thin Mints, I am now out $52. My clothes don’t fit any more and I have to take afternoon naps after my sugar high. Thank God the cookies are only available once a year.

For your next girlfriends’ get-together, have a cookie party. Ask everyone to bring their favorite cookie recipe and samples. It’s a great way to get your sugar fix and gather new recipes. But wear pants with elastic waists and leave the kids with their dads.

Homestyle Thin Mints

2 1/4 cups flour

1 cup white sugar


1/4 cup cornstarch


6 tbsp unsweetened cocoa powder


1/2 tsp salt

1/3 cup milk


1/2 cup unsalted butter, room temperature


1/3 cup milk


3/4 tsp vanilla extract


1 tsp peppermint extract

10 oz. dark or semisweet chocolate


1/2 cup butter, room temperature

In a small bowl, whisk together flour, cocoa powder, cocoa powder and salt.

In a medium bowl, cream together the sugar and butter. Mix in the milk, and the vanilla and peppermint extracts. Gradually, add in the flour mixture.

Shape dough into two logs, about 1 1/2 inches in diameter, wrap in plastic wrap and freeze for at least 1-2 hours, until dough is very firm.

Preheat oven to 375F.
Slice dough into ¼ inch thick rounds and place on a parchment lined baking sheet. Bake for 13-15 minutes, until cookies are firm at the edges. Cool cookies completely on a wire rack before dipping in chocolate.

Dark Chocolate Coating: In a double broiler, combine chocolate and butter. Stir every 45 - 60 seconds, until chocolate is smooth. Dip each cookie in melted chocolate and then transfer to wax paper or parchment paper.  Wait until chocolate is set (cool and firm) before eating.

Makes 3 1/2 dozen cookies. 

Holy Smoke!

by Tonia

“The very existence of flame-throwers proves that some time, somewhere, someone said to themselves, You know, I want to set those people over there on fire, but I'm just not close enough to get the job done.” – George Carlin

For those of you who follow our blog regularly you may have noticed we only had three posts in January. I have a good excuse. My apartment burned down. Honest to God. And I wasn’t even cooking! Hell, I wasn’t even in town. Got the fire without getting to ogle sexy firemen. I totally got ripped off.

How does one little careless cigarette butt start a huge fire when I can’t get a whole box of matches to start a friggin’ flame in my fireplace? The universe is not right.

After I saw the remains of my belongings and recovered from my psychotic break, I decided to use my tried-and-true coping skills: humor and Facebook. I posted what happened and forbid my friends from making any sweet, sentimental “I’m so sorry” comments. Instead I asked them to give me party suggestions for a FIRED UP party. So, if you are FIRED UP about something (a philanthropy project, a political cause, long lines at the post office...), here are some of my friends' fabulous party ideas:

REFRESHMENT SUGGESTIONS:

(1) Serve flaming drinks or martinis with red hot candies

(2) Serve Cherries Jubilee, Baked Alaska or Bananas Foster

(3) Roast weenies and call it a Man Roast

ENTERTAINMENT IDEAS:

(1) Bring in a fire eater who doubles as a stripper

(2) Burn your bras

(3) Create games with fire extinguishers

MUSIC RECOMMENDATIONS:

(1) Light my Fire by the Doors

(2) Smoke on the Water by Deep Purple

(3) Ring of Fire by Johnny Cash

(4) Through the Fire by Chaka Khan

(5) We Didn't Start the Fire by Billy Joel

(6) Fire and Ice by Pat Benetar

(7) Great Balls of Fire by Jerry Lee Lewis

(8) Old Flames Can't Hold a Candle to You by Dolly Parton

And, by the way, if you’ve ever had thoughts of burning your house down, I don’t recommend it. But, if you have other FIRED UP party ideas, be sure to list them here!

Looking Cool = Epic Fail

by Tonia

"There is something liberating about not pretending. Dare to embarrass yourself. Risk." - Drew Barrymore

I live in Tulsa but love to spend as much time as I can in Santa Fe. There are definitely differences between these two cities – in altitude AND attitude. 

When I am in Santa Fe I try to look cool by eating organic and being green (environmentally friendly – not sick from a hang-over). Recently when I was in Santa Fe, I purchased some groceries at Whole Foods and had forgotten my canvas bags to carry them in. Well, to be honest, I didn’t exactly know WHERE my canvas bags were but that’s not cool. The clerk gave me a disgusted look and disapprovingly said, “You don’t have your bags?” Not wanting to seem uncool, I told her that I would just carry my items without a (God forbid) paper sack. After all, I only had about 10 items. No problem, right?

 

I walked across the parking lot with my arms full of groceries, looking like an organic shoplifter. As I opened my car door, I dropped my 6-pack of root beer (hey, it was Blue Sky). Enjoying their new-found freedom, all six cans rolled off independently across the parking lot. I tossed my other groceries in the car and went after the run-away root beer. As I picked up one of the cans, I stood up and smashed my eye into the corner of the car door. I heard someone say “OUCH!” Holding my eye I gathered the rest of the root beer and got into my car. Still hurting, I thought I would comfort myself with a drink. So I opened a can of root beer and, you guessed it, it exploded all over me and the car. Looking cool = epic fail.

In honor of my run-away root beer, here is a Root Beertini recipe for your next girlfriends’ get-together. But drink it; don’t wear it.

Root Beertini

2 oz Three Olives Root Beer Vodka

1 oz amaretto liqueur

One scoop of vanilla ice cream

Shake the vodka and amaretto with ice. Strain the ice and pour into a martini glass. Float a scoop of vanilla ice cream in the center of it. Enjoy!

Mountain Sized Tantrums

By Rachel

“If your kids are giving you a headache, follow the directions on the aspirin bottle, especially the part that says ‘keep away from children.’" ~ Susan Savannah

Every year my mother takes all of us (kids and grandkids) on a ski trip. We really look forward to this and typically have a fabulous time. However, after this year's trip, I may leave one of my brats children at home next time.
   
After a private ski lesson, I decided I could handle my 3 year old on the slopes. While going up the chair lift he decided to throw the tantrum of a lifetime. Because he was flinging himself from side to side on the lift, I couldn’t pull down the safety bar. By the time we got to the end of the lift, I was holding him by one arm as his entire body was hanging off the chair. Because we couldn’t just hop off, the chair swung around and started to take us back DOWN the mountain – still with the screaming 3 year old dangling below the chair. Fortunately, the operator stopped the lift and assisted us. <Note to self for next year: send kids to all-day ski school. Check to see if they offer after hours care through the evening and maybe overnight.>

But that is not the end of the story. Because the operator had to remove my son’s skis to get us untangled from the chair lift, my son then started screaming to put his skis back on. I tried to tell him I would put them on once he calmed down. But, by this time, he was completely out of control. He threw himself in the snow, screaming and flailing so that everyone getting off the lift looked at me as some kind of child abuser. I tried to tell them I had no idea who this poor child was and that I was looking for his mother. But he kept looking at me screaming, “MOMMY, put my skis on!” So much for peace in the mountains. We could hear his screams echoing for miles. One of the ski instructors asked if we wanted ski patrol to take my son down the mountain. I told him I wanted ski patrol all right - but for ME as I was about to pound my head against the nearest tree.

My mom stayed with us during the entire ordeal encouraging me to just ignore the screams. My husband, on the other hand, took off like a teenage boy with a promise of getting laid. Still plotting my revenge. Finally, after what seemed like centuries, my son calmed down and we skiied down the mountain for lunch. When I finally found my husband I told him it was HIS turn to watch the screamer kid. Handling lunch line crowds would be a breeze after what I had just been through. But I ended up changing lines because a group of people were talking about the “out of control kid” on the mountain. Hoping we’re not banned from the resort next year.

Invite your girlfriends over for a “Tantrum Party.” Take turns telling stories about your kids’ worst tantrums. Have everyone vote on which one is truly the worst and give a prize. Drink heavily and call a cab to get home. Here is a fabulous “snow” drink that we borrowed (OK, stole) from The Sweetest Temptations website. They have fabulous recipes so take a look HERE

Snowman Martini

2 ounces Pinnacle Whipped Vodka

1 ounce vanilla vodka

1 ounce Godiva White Chocolate liqueur (you can sub white creme de cacoa)

2 scoops of very melty vanilla ice cream— almost pourable

Instructions:

Put ice into martini glass to chill. Put a handful of ice and all of your ingredients into a cocktail shaker. Shake well. Remove the ice from the glass and pour. Garnish with a snowman “Peep” or a dollop of whipped cream.

Grandma’s Butt Cream for Your Face

by Anna

As a teenager I used Noxzema as my skin care plan. Then, in my 20s, I got a Clinique upgrade. After college and my first job I invested in Shiseido and, oh, my skin days were GOOD. Then came...The Lay Off. I was hoping that I could show my pink slip for a discount on skin care products but that seemed just to be part of The Lay Off psychosis.

Being out of a job for almost a year had me microwaving old coffee, using the heels of bread loaves and turning out lights (even with people still in the room).  As part of that scrimp and scrimp some more lifestyle, I tried various Wal-Mart and Dollar Store skin care crap and my skin has never looked worse. In fact, I actually ended up with a chemical burn and had to hibernate for a week without makeup. (This was NOT good for the job search.) The rest of the time I just looked like I had been exfoliating with a Brillo pad. I was drinking lots of water, hoping that would hydrate me and make my skin glow, but that only made me have to pee every 15 minutes. (Again, NOT good for the job search.) I bought a cheap bronzer to hide the red and peeley skin but it just made me look like a greasy oompa loompa.

But I finally found an inexpensive skin care plan - Cetaphil Antibacterial Gentle Cleansing Bar for Dry, Sensitive Skin (say that 5x’s fast) and Cetaphil Ultra Hydrating Lotion for Dry, Sensitive Skin (memorize all this because there will be a quiz later).

My friend, Beth, and I like to call the moisturizer, “Grandma’s Butt Cream.” But, in all seriousness, it works. It saved my face - it no longer looks like mistreated cow hyde. You all can thank me later.

For your next girlfriends' get together, give each other facials, share skin care tips and sip on this:

The Fountain of Youth

3 Cucumber slices

1.5 oz. Gin

2.5 oz. White Cranberry Juice

1 tsp. Pimm’s No.1

0.5 tsp. Fresh Lime Juice

Grab your shaker and throw in 2 of the cucumber slices with two handfuls of ice. Add the rest of the ingredients and shake vigorously. Strain into a frosted martini glass and garnish with the remaining slice of cucumber.