Kick Ass Mofo

In lieu of my recent mom tangent, I purposely ommitted the most important, the Big Kahuna, the Top Best, the one that have paved the way for all…america’s sweetheart Ms. Meaghan Benjamin! The first time I met Meaghan, she hosted a dinner at her home in North Beach in hopes of getting to know one of her old friend’s – Shane – new girlfriend (me). They just moved back into the states, previously running their own bike tour in the lovely town of Florence, Italy. We instantly hit it off when we exchanged childhood stories and realized we were both products of a family of ten accessorized with a hefty catholic upbringing. How can one not be catholic with a family of that grandeur? The final component that fused us forever was our vexing for “powdered milk” (part of our staple growing up) that vividly affects us to this very day.

From that day on, I had been touched by the Megstar. It is because of this beautiful woman that our network of friends have flourished into a ridiculous size. It is because of her, we’ve been enlightened by the fabulous Minniti’s. It is because of her, we have been blessed with the Grundman’s. It is because of her, that I can balance work and family life without the guilt of not being a stay at home mom. It is because of her, that Angela and I helplessly pee in our pants when we think of South Beach, Miami. Although she has left us for Chicago, the distance is a mere “skype” away.

The Benjamins



On April 11, 2008, Megstar made way for her first baby boy! That’s right a healthy Elias James Benjamin 9lb. 9 oz. After a sprint of three girls, she has broken the dash for girldom. Next to my own mom, Meagan comes pretty close to the perfect mom. Besides her bubbly and magnetic personality, one can not help but to look to her for wisdom and advice. I am overjoyed to have a friend that is uniquely rare in magnificence!

This is Shellie popping the cork to a bubbly back to you Bob at the studio!

Mother Dome

I write as if I’m the only mother in the world. In fact, I have a few gal friends that are in the process of joining the motherhood fellowship. Erin, Aussy, and Bliss (in that order) will be mothers this year. I applaud them for walking this exciting plank. Motherhood is everything and more. There’s nothing like it. It is so effen cool! Sleepless nights, dirty diapers, breast feeding, oh my! Kidding. Hunter has made my life rich with happiness. To think they count the days to meet their special little one that flourishes in the belly. Sigh.

I can’t wait to have my second, third, and so forth child. I can’t wait to have a house full of Kitchens. I’ve enjoyed Hunter so much and can’t wait for him to mentor and possibly kick around his future siblings. Time it flashes before me. He’s gone from laying on his back to flipping over to crawling to pulling himself up. His gibberish conversation crumbles my soul into little tiny pieces. It’s all a bit too much for me to take. It is overwhelming to think that it’s almost been a year. Sniffle.

I am thrilled for them as they will never know the strength these little babies have on us, until they arrive. I sit back and watch from the sidelines as they enjoy their own experience of pregnancy into motherhood. In great expectations, I wish them love, well, and joy.

This is Shellie saying, "Mother's Effen Rule!" Back to you Bob at the studio!

and the award goes to

Top 10 - 2008 Hopefuls

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1. Hopefully (fingers crossed) pregnant with number two, possibly three, weeeeee
2. Molding and watching growth spurts of Styles
3. Drop weight to fit in waif category – Surely I kid, not really
4. Shane succeeds with Hive Builds
5. Sell my useless gas guzzler and environment crusher BMW X5 in trade for another useless European auto
6. Go for a vacation, Provence or Barcelona would suffice – I can smell the foie and toe fungus cheese now
7. Knit, knit, knit, must learn to knit!
8. Mas Girls night - yummy tequila shots and shakin my hump, my hump, my hump, my hump
9. Clear out my massive wardrobe and make way for new wardrobe
10. Continue on the path of happiness. Ohm. Namaste.



Top 10 - that didn’t make it on the 2008 Hopeful list

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(mostly due to my age)
1. Take up DJ(ing)
2. Sign up for break dancing
3. Rock a mid riff
4. Short bettie page bangs
5. Braces
6. Starting a band
7. Surfing, brrrr, not in these chilly shark infested waters. I’m shriveled as it is
8. American Idol
9. Tap dancing
10. Taken seriously

This is Shellie breaking a sweat back to you Bob at the studio!

T is for "Therapy!"

I used to be this somewhat polished party girl who loved going to bars, sipping from a pint glass of cazadore margarita on the rocks, hold the salt, and dancing till the break of dawn. I should say the key words being "used to." These days, living on the edge means steeping my decaffeinated tea more than five minutes and going to bed at nine thirty which I consider way past my bed time.

“The old Shellie’s back.” Sophia had repeated what her husband was so clearly jubilant about. It was the day after Tim and Karen’s pre-wedding celebration and the day of their wedding. An offensive sour odor wafted, there next to the bed a stock pot and the waste basket lined with plastic. My organic 800 thread count Donna Karan European sham stained with last nights cosmetic debacle. My brain throbbed and my head spun. I partied like it was nineteen ninty nine the night before, throwing down shots of chilled patron one after another, regardless of my tolerance which was the immense size of a germ.

Angela entered the bedroom with frightful treats, “okay who wants an egg mcmuffin?” I was disappointed with myself. I had gone almost three years with no fast food. “Honey, you still have this from last night?” My sweet husband pointed to the brown burger king bag stale full of my blurred memory, “you didn’t touch it at all.” They both laughed. One of the many reasons why I don’t drink is my fascination for fast food. I shamefully ate my quicker picker dumper, hoping it would ease my spinning head and soak up the alcohol. The second helping of hash browns was not my saving grace.

“Okay, I gotta go get this shit to KJ,” Angela pointing to another McDonalds order, "before it gets cold." We thanked her for making a stop. I rolled over to appease my throbbing brain. It was that day in that dying moment that I realized my love for tequila and it’s fellowship had taken a back seat. This coming from a person that worshipped reposado and nothing but.

Since my pregnancy, I have grown accustomed to a glass of nice wine or glass of champagne. I enjoy the pace of grapes. Grapes never made me dance on a bar. Grapes never made me scratch my head in wonderment as to where that large bruise on my arm came from. Grapes never made me the center of a manwich or womanwich on a dance floor. Grapes is the marijuana of the alcohol phenomena. Perhaps, grapes was behind my altruism. I needed an instant demise stat.

The Carrs wedding occurred last October. Since then I’ve been the virgin mary, determined to return to my orignal weight prior to my pregnancy. My healthy life style has ruled as the tyrant overlord, dismissing any want to veer off the health kick. What have I become? I look forward to a good night's sleep so I could have a great work out the next day. Friday nights I toss and turn with excitement for Saturday's farmers market at the ferry building. I've become obsessed with finding the best sparkling mineral water on earth. A mani pedi is my pint of ice cream. I am a cardio addict looking to break my weight record. I am "that" person that weighs out my meals on an electronic scale. I have become an anal retentive cardio hog caloric counter freak magic. The thought of a shot of tequila made my waist line cringe.

Lately, I've been feeling a bit empty. I am a party girl drop out. I realized that I haven't had "obnoxious drunken" fun in almost two years! No wonder, I was feeling lost! I had lost a part of myself somewhere between pregnancy and motherhood. I concocted a date with a bunch of my chicas tomorrow night. This is the new Shellie telling the old Shellie to liven the shit up.

This is Shellie “stirred” not shaken back to you Bob at the studio.