There is something about sitting under the salon lights that make your hair and makeup look horrific. Much like the lights of a dressing room when you're trying on a bathing suit.

I decided that my current colorist and stylist were way to expensive, so I broke up with them. Except they don't know. They'll find out if I have to go back and get my new do and color fixed. But, at $200 a visit I just couldn't justify it. I mean I did LOVE my color and my cuts always grew out nice. It just didn't feel right spending that kind of money with everyone cutting back.

So here I sit with new chemicals on my hair, fingers crossed.

Making an entrance

My coworker shared this with me today and I sat there only capable of saying OHMYGOD over and over again.

Wordless Wednesday with a few words

Fun in the pool, but not when you're the splashed...



Others.

Pet Peeve alert: The constant mispronunciation of Kyra's name.

Because Kyra's name is spelled with a "y" people typically pronounce it "k-i-ra" with a long i. Not like "key-ra" as it is meant to be pronounced. This makes me cringe. Every. Single. Time.

First of all people, we're white folks in our thirties. Ok? We like to make it challenging and spell our names all funky like so it's hard to pronounce. Give up your phonics teachings and expand your mind.

It actually annoys me so much that I've looked into having the spelling of her name legally changed to Keira. But I'm sure that will get garbled too. Key-I-ra. God no! Don't you people know Kyra Sedgewick? Come on!

Friends and a Boat Ride

I have known two of my oldest friends since I was 4 years old. We grew up together in Maryland until my family moved against my will to Pennsylvania. Kelly is still in Maryland, but BreAnne is much farther away in Texas. Hi Bre! I miss you!

We went down for a long overdue visit. Here's a snapshot...

Smiley faces make better kids

So, after much research and the purchase of TWO books on beating discipline for your children, I have instituted The Three Smiley Faces. By Day Two, the girls were so well behaved they were having a "Do Something Nice For Each Other" Day. And it even lasted until this morning! Can you imagine waking up and wanting to do something nice for someone? I can't.

The Three Smiley Faces is very technical and complicated, but I'll try to explain. Take a sheet of paper. Draw three smiley faces on it. When the child misbehaves, a smiley face gets crossed out. At the end of the day, if there are any smiley faces left, the child gets a small reward. If all three smiley faces are crossed out, they suffer the consequences. In our house, that means no tv for the next day. If the child gets through the day with all smiley faces, then they get a big reward.

Day One didn't go so well. All Kyra's smiley faces got crossed off. Dinner is simply not a good time for her. So, we took tv time away. EVEN THOUGH, hubby completely blew it and let Kyra watch tv in the morning until the sitter arrived. Ridiculous! No tv, means no tv, right people?

Day Two was like magic. At the end of the day, they were so excited to show me the not-crossed-off smiley faces and tell me all about their "Do Something Nice For Each Other" Day. It was like they were someone else's kids!

Today is Day Three with a promise for ice cream as a big reward.

The only obstacle I'm seeing with this technique is the daily reward system. Stickers, barrettes, treats will get boring quick. Then what?

The looming 5k?

Things are progressing. Meet my running partner!

Shut the hell up! It's the QuietRide.

Ahhhh, the train. I love my train commute into the city. Even though it's just 20 minutes, I don't have to deal with moron drivers or road-rage-inducing traffic. I can read, play a game on my iPhone, catch up on Twitter and Facebook, or stare out the window and daydream about traveling to exotic countries on photography expeditions with National Geographic. If only I got into the Peace Corps... Ok, back to reality!

The QuietRide is a relatively new concept--the first train car during morning and evening rush hour is designated "quiet"--no talking above a whisper, no chatty cellphone conversations, just silence. It's the car for the very uptight, the deep thinkers and those on the cusp of mental breakdowns. But that's just my opinion. I happen to like the quiet car when I'm by myself because people in general annoy the crap out of me. If they don't talk, than less likely I'll be annoyed. And that's never a good thing before coffee.

Every so often someone gets on the Quiet Car without realizing it's the QUIETRIDE--the dead silence, of course, doesn't give it away, plus the posters are hard to find--and that someone starts yakking on their cellphone or having a conversation mere decibels over a whisper. Oh my.

Today, it was my neighbor. Turned around in his seat talking to me and Jeff. Trying to catch up on life and the kids and work. The fact that I was whispering didn't clue him in. And he couldn't see the 3 people nearby squirming in their seats, turning around obnoxiously and glaring in hopes that he would just figure it out. I would have told him but he didn't stop talking long enough for me to cut in. So Jeff and I simply ignored them. Mostly because it was funny to watch them squirm; and we were curious to see what they would do. They were Uptight.

The woman on the cusp of a mental breakdown, however, nearly fell over her seat trying to get our attention. She asked the man in front of her, this is the quiet car, right? She searched desperately up and down the aisle for the conductor. She vigorously turned around again and again, hoping we'd look at her wondering why she was hopping around so much. Finally, she caught my eye and mouthed to me that it was the quiet car, or something like that. I'm not up on lip reading. I just smiled and nodded. All while my neighbor chatted away.

All hell broke lose when my neighbor spotted a colleague sitting across the aisle. Hey! very-smart-guy-who-heads-up-the-honors-department-at-a local-university. These are my neighbors, Jeff and Steph! People love to make our names rhyme. The colleague jumped over, endured a round of introductions, and lady on the cusp of a mental breakdown reached her breaking point.

She whispered--of course--to my neighbor that it was the quiet car, lest she be accused of doing exactly what she's complaining about. After she turned back around we had a childish, stifled giggle over the whole thing. And we rode the rest of the way into work, without another a peep.

Discipline or a beating? I'm tempted.

I am this close to giving Kyra away to someone else who can deal with her. THIS close! That child has an instant tantrum the second she doesn't get her way. For days now, the mornings have started off with tears and screaming demands. Screaming!

While Jeff and I get ready for work in the morning the girls wake up, have some cereal to munch on, watch a movie or play and wait for our sitter to arrive. If I have time, I get their breakfast started. Today, the cereal wasn't cutting it. The bag went flying across the room and was immediately followed with I WANT DONUTS NOWWWWWWW! Are you fucking kidding me?! Clearly, I haven't scared the bejesus out of her for her to act that way. For a good 20 minutes, the screaming went on. At one point she sat on the step just screaming. Screaming. And I haven't even had coffee! Anyone want her? Anyone? Any takers out there?

It's obvious that whatever pitiful discipline we're attempting with her is not effective. Or maybe I just don't understand the 5-year-old mentality. That's very possible. So, I go online and start researching because I simply can't take it anymore. Plus, I see my future with this child without intervention and she's destined to become a crappy teenager. So, I come across all the typical directions: make sure they're getting enough to eat and sleep, make sure they have a routine and structure, don't get frustrated, it'll take forever for consequence to sink in, bla, bla, bla.

The problem is nothing seems to phase her. We take away some of her favorite toys, the tv and computer. Put her on the step. Nothing works. Then, she says she can't calm down and stop crying until she gets a hug. And, at that point, I'm so angry, it's the last thing I want to do.

Now I'm on supernanny.com because I desperately need Super Nanny. Finally, some real advice. But, really? I've turned to a tv show for parenting help? What has this world come to?

Friending people on FB

Today, running sucks, and I want to know what's up with friending people on Facebook. I have found that if you send a Friend Request to someone and they accept it, they don't say anything. It's like they wait for you to say something first. I guess because you sent the request. But, if you accept a Friend Request, wouldn't you then say Hey, thanks! It's great to see you, bla, bla, bla? What's up with that? Is there some Facebook etiquette that I'm unaware of? And how about the people that connect, but don't say anything at all? I don't understand how that's possible. You haven't seen each other in 10, 15, maybe even 20 years, and you've got nothing to say?! Come on!

Seriously, I need something else to do with my time. This really is quite ridiculous. Look for pictures of knitting projects in the near future.

My Favorite Subjects

Wordless Wednesday

Annual Zaniness

The annual Phillies with our friends never disappoints. The weather was beautiful and the game was good.

We had good seats and a great view.A rare blimp made an appearance. I think I watched the blimp blow around in the wind more than the game. And, of course, crack.

Then the craziness ensued. After a Phillies game, you must head to McFadden's. But only if you've been drinking. Otherwise you won't be able to tolerate it.

A calm moment.

Not so calm.

Rose met some other friends. She'll dance with anyone. Slut.

Afterwards, we landed at the Oyster House. I have no idea why. But it led to the oyster shooter.

Lots of fun. Laughs. Zaniness. And the first time someone inhaled vodka. Really. I should be too old for this.

The perfect weather blues

The weather here is gorgeous. Perfect. Low humidity, clear blue skies, low 80s. Perfect. My motivation to be indoors, under fluorescent lighting, staring at a computer, feeling my ass go numb from sitting all day is null. It's days like these that I really envy the stay-at-home-mom. Even more so today because our nanny started today. She gets to have all the summer fun with the girls. They go on field trips, do arts and crafts, play outside, go to the pool. A life of leisure. It's my goal. I just haven't figured out what it's going to take to get there.

Anyway, I don't want to be repetitive so go here for a quickie update. We had our annual Phillies game with our friends, The Hattons. I did not want to schwart my get-in-shape efforts from the week so I was a little unmotivated to indulge in a game/beer/food/hangover. I'll upload pictures tonight. It'll be apparent that I got motivated.

I love summer

Summer means playing outside. And it also means -- crab season! I love crab season. It reminds me of when I was young, growing up in Maryland. We would have huge crab feasts with all our neighbors. We'd put all the picnic tables together, cover them with newspaper and bring the bushels of steamed blue crabs in. Usually we did this on the Fourth of July. When it would start to get dark, we'd run around trying to catch fireflies or writing our names with Sparklers. And, when it got really dark, one of the dad's would set off fireworks. It was so much fun.

We just had our first crab feast, on a much smaller scale. Here, Ella is checking out the live crabs.

We've had a few crabs get lose or put a death grip on an unsuspecting finger, but Rose, our resident crab steamer, takes on the challenge.

The first batch of crabs. Always males. Always large or bigger. Always, always, always with Old Bay... and beer, of course.

The secret to getting to the claw meat is to NOT crush the shell. Marc has not mastered the technique. He's not from Maryland.

This guy's not from Maryland either. In fact, we're still not sure who he is. He just showed up.

The best part of a crab feast is getting together with friends.

I'm not afraid of change. I just need some serious motivation.

It's July. Not one of my favorite months. It's hot. Humid. My hair usually looks like shit. I have to wear less clothing, even get into a bathing suit. EEEEK! A frightful sight for many, I know.

So I'm sure you noticed the obnoxious ticker up there. I've decided to take certain matters into my own hands (because, quite frankly, who else would?). I'm on a lose-20-pounds, get-my-fat-ass-in-shape, shrink-the-boobage mission. Sure, mid-summer isn't the best time to get motivated. These things should happen in winter. So when the warm weather arrives, you can unveil a beautifully trim body like it was always there, just hidden under turtlenecks. Well, that didn't happen for me. So, matters are in my hands and I've signed up for a 5K to make sure I don't slip up. Once committed I follow through. At least that's what I'm banking on.

To keep all the gory details out of this fun, always-family-friendly space, I started a new blog called The Thinning Chronicles. I need to be held accountable for my actions. I can't explain why that works for me. It's just does. So check in there every once in while, or not. Things like how much I weigh and pictures of cellulite (ha, just kidding) may cause you to like me less, so if that's the case, I'd advice you to avoid it all costs. I need to be liked.