Ch-ch-ch-CHAAARGE with myCharge!

Did you know that the average smartphone users checks their phone 110 times per day and that 2.7 hours of that is just for fun? 

Did you also know that without an available power source 77% of phone users will have a dead battery by 4 pm? (That would be me.)

Did you know that if your son has enough battery power to play Minecraft during the the long car ride to grandma's house, you don't have to listen to him talk about Minecraft the entire time?  Also that your toddler's tablet can only get through 4 viewings of Frozen on the aforementioned car ride before the battery dies? Sounds like a job for myCharge!

Whether at work or play you rely on your phone's battery, and this is where myCharge comes in! They are a leader in portable charging solutions.

myCharge devices boast built–in charging cords that emphasize portability and versatility, and powerful lithium polymer batteries that allow you to quickly charge your smartphone, tablet, eReader and other devices so that they’re ready when you need them! 

Ditch your dependency on cables and wall outlets and weak public charging stations – and let myCharge make your life a bit easier! 

For the month of February myCharge is offering the Limited Edition RazorPlus Bundle for $49.99 - in it you receive a RazorPlus with the imprint: We can charge right here right now. The RazorPlus is an ultra-thin rechargeable 3000 mAh battery crafted from anodized aluminum that delivers an extra 13 hours talk time for your smartphone.  (That's a lot of Frozen viewings!)

You'll also receive a shirt and a 22 oz. reusable/dishwasher safe stadium cup that is color-changing! The frosted cups turn green when filled with your favorite (possibly adult) beverage. 

myCharge is also giving away 20 of these Bundles FREE, so enter for your chance to win below! Good luck!
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It's My Vag and I'll Steam If I Want To.

I don't generally write about current events but the latest installment in asshat politics has really burned my box and got me thinking about a bigger picture....

Let me say that I know I'm way late to this "party."  And is that next? Home steaming parties? Between Pampered Chef, Tastefully Simple, and Scentsy, there's a good name in there somewhere. (Tastefully Pampered Pussies, anyone?)

This isn't the bigger picture I was talking about.

First thing's first, let me be perfectly clear--I'm not steaming my vag.  For a person whose beauty regimen consists mainly of, um, showering (and really, isn't that enough steam for anyone's vag?) going to a spa and steaming my ladybits would be like going to a Mercedes-Benz dealership to have them wash the bumper of my KIA.

Second, I could not give a shit what Gwyneth is doing.  Not. One. Fuck. Given.  The woman has absolutely no bearing on my everyday life and as such, I care not how consciously or unconsciously she chooses to do anything.  I may think she's a snob or an idiot, but I don't even waste any time proclaiming that to anyone (Until now, I guess.)  Next week she'll be saying how upcycled goat shit is all the rage and how she's eating it on organic whole grain Melba toast three times a day but will I be running out to Trader Joe's to get some?  Nope.

But even my total apathy for Gwyneth is beside the point.  Or maybe it is exactly the point. I don't care what she does with her coot and NOBODY should care what I do with mine. There are women in this world who are tortured by genital mutilation and stoned to death for adultery and we should absolutely give EVERY FUCK about these women and these issues.  Meanwhile, back in 'Murica, we're worried about which Hollywood A-lister pampered her parts.

I'm not an activist.  Most days I can't conquer anything that isn't laundry (and some days I can't even manage that.) Today was a victory.

#laundry #thenotsosuperhouse #DONE #neverDONE

A video posted by @notsosupermom on Feb 15, 2015 at 3:24pm PST

I tend to shy away from these topics, but the more I think about it and read about the myriad ways in which we are losing control of our very vajayjays and how politicians want to tell us not only what we can and cannot DO with our vag, but what we can clothe it in (but, haha, he was joking, right?) it really made me think about everyone's attack on Gwyneth and her steamy snatch.  And whatever it is I'd ever do with mine.

Which is whatever the fuck I want.

Not that that's any of YOUR business.

It's my vag and I'll steam if I want to. #myvagmybusiness @notsosupermom_

Is This Club Med?

Took a small break today. Just had to get away. Unfortunately it involved bad chest pains and a trip to the ER. Not how I envisioned my Sunday.

I was standing in the kitchen and felt some light pressure on my chest.  My first thought was maybe gas and I didn't think to much of it. About 45 minutes later I was sitting on the couch and the pressure came stronger. It felt like someone was sitting on my chest. The Sarge asked me if I was okay and I described what I was feeling. After a minute or two it passed.

Fifteen minutes later it came back, much stronger.  The pressure was really painful.  I found myself short of breath and I definitely got scared when I realized that my left arm was feeling tingly. I told Moo to go get her dad. The Sarge went into work mode (Firefighter/EMT) and started assessing "the patient."  He had me lie down on the couch and he called 911.

I was taken to the ER,  still experiencing the pain and pressure (somewhat reduced) in the ambulance. But the thought I had most the whole ride was how ridiculous this all felt. Don't get me wrong, I was scared. The pressure was awful and to be honest I was second guessing the tingliness until it went away--then I realized how real it had been. That was scary too.

But I couldn't shake the feeling that this was all too much. We kept jokingly lamenting about how much the ambulance ride would cost, how much we would pay for the tiny spray of nitroglycerin that went under my tongue.

I was tested and poked and questioned and nothing conclusive was found. I'm sure the doctors chalked it up to some kind of stress. Maybe Moo turning 13 tomorrow was weighing more heavily than I thought. I returned home, straightened up the kitchen, bathed the toddler and my trip to Club Med was quickly fading to memory.

Took a shower and saw the hickey-like marks left from the leeches of modern day medical technology. What they didn't extract in blood and biofeedback they will make up for in cold hard cash. No small bills. (See what I did there?)

In the end we have no idea what it was. EKG's were normal. Blood tests were normal. The biggest casualties of the day will be the hit our wallet will take from whatever the insurance doesn't cover. Peace of mind is expensive, but we must believe we are worth it.

Twist of Faith

Faith is so easy, and so complicated.  

I have faith in a lot of things--that the sun will rise daily, that my kids will grow up to be good people, that Spring will come before I freeze to death this Winter.  I am trying to have faith that I will finish this blog post before 2016 (or at least before the challenge is over this week).  None of these are tangible things, and yet I hold real faith in them.  I believe them to not only be possible, but quite probable.  What I don't have faith in, is "Faith."

Faith as a synonym for personal religion doesn't mean much to me.  I rarely talk about politics or religion--not here on my blog and not in discussion with people--and yet the word faith, for me, immediately conjures religious connotations.  

I was raised Catholic, but we weren't "hardcore" about it.  Church always seemed a tiny bit scary and forever boring and just confusing.  We stand, we sit, we kneel.  We close our eyes, we pray, we chant.  I never got it.  I still don't.

Weekly mass came in fits and spurts as I remember, though through much of elementary school years we went to weekly CCD classes (episodes in social torture) and I couldn't tell you much of anything I learned there except that if you go to a weekly CCD class in another town (because your town doesn't have a Catholic Church), it is not an especially great place to make friends with a large group of kids who know and see each other everyday in school.  

As an adult I never practiced Catholicism.   I don't ever recall feeling any particular connection to it.  Ever.  It is ritualistic and dichotomous, and it (ok, mostly church) was something to be tolerated.  I tried as an adult to seek out God in other religions.  I took my kids with me to one particular church for months, but I still never made a real leap of faith there.  It was definitely a lot lighter and freer as a religion but for me it still carried a weight. Perhaps that was residual Catholic guilt.  I don't know, but nothing makes you feel like more of an outsider than being a non-believer in a group of believers.  

I think most people want to believe in something greater than themselves because life is a lot of responsibility and sometimes it sucks and if you are all there is then, well, YOU are all there is.  With great power comes great responsibility, blah, blah, blah....   Yeah we know.

People can be disappointing and miserable, but sometimes--a lot of the time--they are beautiful and loving.  And here's the thing--faith (as in, personal religion) doesn't make you a better person.  If you believe in what is good and know and do what is right, then you are a good person.  If you think that comes from God or from raising good kids then that's your prerogative.  If you want to pray to God that your kids behave, you are free to do that too.  

I have a feeling that a good many people may pray for me after reading this, and that's fine. I have faith that many others will know exactly where I stand.  The sun will come again tomorrow, my kids will grow up, Spring will get here eventually--these things I believe.  I understand, however, that what I need most to maintain is faith in myself. 

(I did it!)

This week's words were ALMOST, RARE, and FAITH
www.the-golden-spoons.com
(I did it!)