No mu mus for Momma. Cabo, and bust.

In this extraordinary year, I've vowed to celebrate with style and aplomb, moderately. Also to laugh a lot, dance like nobody's watching and make sure my friends and family know how much I love them. Big Momma has always been a party to my verve and great friend. She also gave me my latest mix CD which I am playing into the ground (those poor neighbors). Big Momma wants to go to Cabo sans kids and hubby, she feels no guilt as she goes above and beyond for her family and their needs. But Big Momma is on to changing her frame and her name. She met with a trainer today who kicked her ass seventeen different ways from Sunday. The Nazi's name eludes me but it lit a fire under my friend. She declared when we go to Cabo, and we will go to Cabo, there will be no mu mus for momma. She scared me with her intensity. So much so that I grabbed my jumprope, my Madonna-packed mp3 player and gave my calfs a lift. No mu mus.