Janie's Top Ten

One of the things I always looked forward to when planning a family was the idea that I could quit birth control.

I wasn’t one of those unlucky women who suffered pill side effects like weight gain or pizza face. I was the crazy lady in the Yaz TV commercials who confesses to being a hormonal psycho once a month.

That seemed like a marital deal breaker so I said “I do” to a loving marriage and “Adieu” to birth control.

I still stand by that decision. I can give you two beautiful examples of just how well my husband and I get along when I am not on the pill. Tyler is almost two and Addie is three-months-old.

My kids are both blessings and it’s refreshing to be able to look back on a “Janie moment” with affection.

Tyler was born nine-months after Janie convinced my husband that you can’t get pregnant on or around Christmas. Addie arrived exactly nine-months after my brother’s wedding. I have included a picture of Janie inappropriately table dancing at the reception.

At this juncture, my husband and I have decided to take a baby-making hiatus and this required a major decision. Do we practice abstinence or do I go back on contraceptives?

My husband and I both voted for contraceptives even though that meant Janie would rear her ugly head at least once a month.

I will never forget the moment we made the decision. It was ridiculously early on a Saturday morning. Both kids were up and wanting to play or eat. There had been no sleep the night before and Tyler wanted to watch the same episode of The Backyardigan’s on repeat.

I said to my husband, “I’m going on the pill.”

“Thank God,” he replied.

So this week I am hormonal and psycho. I thought I would chronicle the Top Ten people, animals, and/or things that pissed me off...

1.) Bikers. Not the cool people who ride motorcycles. The idiots who ride their stupid bicycles on busy roads. I am going to purchase a firm pool noodle and if I catch you on my road again, I am going to whack your spandex ass. I will then pull my car over and laugh at you while you cycle off into a ditch.
2.) My sister’s boyfriend. Excuse me, ex-boyfriend. You know who you are and I hope you read this. I know where you live. Be scared. Be very scared.
3.) The cover of US Weekly- “The Hills Made Me Bulimic.” Are you freaking serious Stephanie Pratt??? Quit the show and get a life. There are people in the world who have real problems.
4.) My husband speaking to me while I am watching The View on Tivo. I don’t care about your day right now honey. I went back to work for the better of our family and I am having separation anxiety from my “girlfriends.” Can’t we talk over dinner or something?
5.) Mrs. Blabber Mouth in the grocery store line. Quit yip-yapping and move your fat ass. Nobody cares that your daughter is at band camp. Didn’t you watch American Pie? That is not something to be proud of.
6.) The aggressive kiosk salesperson that followed me through the mall. My hair IS already straight and clearly so are you. Stop staring at my boobs. I only take hair advice from gay men. Piss off.
7.) The paranoid schizophrenic who nails crazy cardboard signs to the telephone pole near Frisch’s on Liberty Fairfield Rd. I want you to know that I am not taking down your signs because they are about world conventionalism and government control. I take them down because they have spelling errors and that pisses me off.
8.) My dogs. Are you serious right now Archie? The baby is screaming, Tyler is whining, and you think I want to play ball? And Scarlett, if you want a bath so bad, learn how to lick yourself clean like a cat.
9.) My memory. I went to Kroger on my lunch break to buy a Diet Coke and a frozen meal. I drove away with the meal, forgot the Diet Coke, and accidentally put the germy grocery basket in the car. Damn. I need some sleep.
10.) Controlled cold medication. Are you serious? I have to purchase Advil Cold and Sinus from behind the counter and show you my driver’s license? It’s not crack-cocaine people. It’s cold and sinus medication. Get a grip.
Oh and one more I need to get off my chest…
11.) It hasn’t happened yet, but I know it will. My husband will come home from work tonight and ask me, “what’s for dinner?” Um, I checked my paycheck and my roles are wife, mother, employee, family shopper, cleaning lady, but not chef. I wear these heels and pearls because they are business attire, not because I want to cook in my June Cleaver uniform. How about you figure out dinner. I suggest you call in a pizza to 347-1111 and stop asking me EVERY FREAKIN night “what’s for dinner?”

No Spanx + Rice Lady = Catastrophe.

Saturday started out as an amazing day. I had weighed in at Weight Watchers and in the 11 weeks since giving birth to my daughter I had starved 12.5 pounds off of my body. The tasteless food was paying off!

Both sets of grandparents had offered to take a baby overnight and my husband and I were joining our friends for dinner and drinks at a local winery. I was excited for wine. My husband was excited for what happens after I drink wine.

No kids + Wine = A Good Time.

Blissfully childless and feeling super skinny I decided it was time to bring sexy back. My weight loss had inspired me to put away the maternity clothes and squeeze into my old wardrobe. I knew this would require Spanx and a new bra. So I went shopping. Alone!

I found a bra with a shelf in each cup. This amazing contraption put the girls’ right back where they belong.

My bra was going to cost a small fortune and I didn’t want to alarm the budget Nazi (husband), so I decided to forego the girdle. After all, I WAS skinny and didn’t really need Spanx... Bad decision.

No Spanx + Rice Lady = Catastrophe.

I was standing in the buffet line, piling veggies on my plate, when she-satan came up to me and said, “You HAVE to try the rice. It’s to die for. I came back for seconds.”

I didn’t want any rice. I was saving my weekly W.W. points for alcohol and dessert, but I didn’t want to be “that girl” so I put a little rice on my plate.

“Oh look at you all cute and pregnant in your dress,” she said, now eyeing my Spanx-less stomach.

“I’m skinny, not pregnant, you horrible bitch!” Janie screamed in my head.

Everything went black. I couldn’t breathe and it was all I could do to not curl up in the fetal position and cry.

“How far along are you? Wait let me guess,” she gushed before I could even respond. “Six months?”

Oh god, now Janie was conjuring up criminal visions in my head. I pictured shoving pounds of rice in her fat mouth until she choked and died.

While she continued on about pregnancy and babies, I somehow managed to utter, “I’m NOT pregnant. I just had a baby. This is my first night away from her.”

The rice lady turned as red as her ugly lipstick and began apologizing profusely. Luckily for her, my friend grabbed my arm and led me out of the room. She sat me down next to my husband. I began to drink. Not eat.

My friend was angrier and drunker than I had ever seen her. “Don’t worry!" she yelled loud enough for rice lady to hear. "She looks two years pregnant with a WHALE."

“What happened?” my husband asked. And as my friend filled him in, I could see his heart sink. Not because he felt bad for me, because his whole night had just been ruined.

Rice Lady + Wine = Drunk, Crying, No Libido.

Saturday started as an amazing day. It didn’t end that way- not even with the kids being at grandmas overnight.

The next day I was hung over and trying to think if I had ever known of a pregnant person going to a winery. Nope.

I tried to find the silver lining and I came up with this- my amazing belly had incubated each of my beautiful children for nine months. They entered this world happy and healthy.

“Oh what a nice thought,” I heard Janie say. “You’re still fat.”

I’m definitely sticking to Weight Watchers this week. I would rather eat tasteless food than rice.

Love US Weekly. Hate Heidi Klum.

I love Thursdays. The world’s best source for news arrives in my mailbox- US Weekly.

This fine example of a magazine gets a bad rap for being a tabloid and I think that is total horseshit. I earned a journalism degree from The Ohio State University and I know a great publication when I see one.

US Weekly has all the qualifying pieces of a solid newspaper.

• National News- while Kate from John and Kate Plus Eight is on a NATIONAL book tour, her husband is exploring a new idea for their show- John and Kate Date. ***Disclaimer- title for the new show has been trademarked and copyrighted by Janie.***
• Sports- Alex Rodriguez and Madonna were hooking up, but now Kate Hudson is getting some A-Rod action.
• Politics- Ben Affleck told The New York Times that he almost ran for Congress in 2004, but decided against it because his good friend told him it was a terrible idea. Um…. no worse than starring in Gigli. Where was his “friend” then?
• Finance- Ed McMahon foreclosed on his house.

There is however, one section that I would add to US Weekly- Letters to the Editor.

Here’s what I would write:

Dr. US Weekly:
Your publication is the absolute shit. Reading your fabulous articles is the only time when I feel it is totally appropriate to ignore my husband and children. Their little cries for attention sometimes become so annoying that I fake a stomach issue, lock myself in the bathroom, turn on the fan, and read your magazine from cover to cover.

While I may be your biggest fan, I want you to know that I have a serious issue with one of your subjects- Heidi Klum.

She may be climbing America’s #1 Darling list, but I’m on to that bitch. First of all, her stupid little German accent is fake. That’s right, Heidi Klum is an imposter. There is no way she is German because everyone knows that Germans eat Weiner schnitzel, sauerkraut, and potato salad. In fact, I don’t think she is even human. She may be an alien. I have included a photo of Ms. Klum, EIGHT WEEKS POST-PARTUM with her third child, at the Victoria’s Secret fashion show to prove this point.

In the May 4th issue, the “She Devil” reveals to US Weekly that she and husband, Seal, are expecting their fourth child.

Heidi tells the clearly gullible reporter, “I honestly don’t think, ‘Oh, my God, when I get bigger, what am I going to do with the weight after?’ People write crazy things about me, like I put vinegar on salad leaves so I have no appetite. It’s not true! I trust my body. My stomach can stretch out to the most enormous place, then it goes back with exercise and eating right.”

Come on US Weekly! Do you expect your readers to find this reporting credible? Ms. Klum is clearly a liar and needs to be exposed. So I, being a good reporter, do a little expose’ of my own.

Two weeks after having my second child I joined Weight Watchers. The editor should note that I AM of German heritage, but I followed the plan and banished all things resembling real food. No shout outs to beer or big doughy pretzels.

Ten weeks post-partum with my second child, I try to replicate Heidi’s outfit at the Victoria Secret show. I bedazzle one of my old thongs and put on my best push up bra. Unable to secure a pair of Angel Wings, I accessorize with a pair of high heels because that is supposed to make you look sexier in your skivvies.

I was going to send a picture for publication, but Holy Shit, it was too offensive! So here is my conclusion. Heidi may be a Supermodel, but she is NOT a Supermom. She has two nannies, a sick metabolism, alien genes, and a great plastic surgeon.

In future issues I would like your reporters to cut the crap about Heidi’s growing family and how amazing her relationship is with Seal. Who cares that they get remarried every year? I think it would be more relevant to report on how her boobs don’t sag to her hips (see Heidi’s picture in the attached Jordache ad- also at 8 weeks post-partum).

In these tough economic times, everyone enjoys a good joke. But myself and women across the world, look to your publication for factual news and trust that you report the truth.

Anyway, I love, love, love, love your magazine outside of the reporting on Heidi. Please keep up the great work!

Your biggest fan,
Janie