The TRUTH About Motherhood

Search results for: “back school/page/34/to https:/voicesforhealthykids.org/ https:/www.target.com/c/kids-back-to-school/-/N-5xtyp”

I Love you More, A**hole

Dear sweet little girl of mine,
You steal my heart with every glance. You can be the sweetest, kindest, most loving little soul that ever lived and then you can not be just as quickly. I don’t know what it was that set you off this morning.
You had plenty of sleep.
I woke you in plenty of time.
You didn’t even have to wear a uniform today.
All you had to do was wake up, put on something you actually wanted to wear, eat breakfast, brush your teeth and go to school.
At 7:15 a.m when you finally came downstairs, you yelled at me because you couldn’t find the one pair of jeans that you wanted to wear (because the other 500 pairs are not “the One”) then you proclaimed that you wanted to take lunch.
Your hair wasn’t brushed. You were indecisive and sarcastic about your breakfast choice and you lost your mind over a pair of socks. SOCKS!
I am trying to make your lunch because you “HATE” the egg omelets that they are serving today. It’s 7:25 and in your haste and anger, you spilt a drop of milk from down your too-thin, already vetoed shirt. At which point you stomp off barefooted, yelling back to me at 7:27, “I HOPE YOU’RE HAPPY MOM!”
I’m not. I’m REALLY not.
Your sister has dressed herself, eaten breakfast and brushed her teeth today. She has also assembled both backpacks and is now looking for gloves for you both. You still don’t have on any socks, nor are your teeth brushed as you dump your breakfast down the kitchen sink. It’s 7:35, we were supposed to have left 5 minutes ago.
Beloved child of mine, I know that at the tender age of 7-years-old socks, shirts and lunch seem like BIG problems but they’re not. I lost a job, there’s a blizzard outside, I’m trying to quit sugar, I have 47 grey hairs, I can’t remember the last time I shaved my legs, I have bills to pay and it’s “that” time of the month. Please, stop tap dancing on my nerves. It’s taking every ounce of my strength not to shake you.
At 7:43, when books are being thrown about and feet are being stomped, I offer to brush your hair to which you roll your eyes at me. I roll mine too.
Your sister is standing at the front door, sweating in full winter gear, trying not to pass out while holding your backpack, violin and COLD LUNCH. As I brush your hair, I try to remember how sweet and kind you are when you cuddle deep into me every night before bedtime. I try to remember that beautiful glorious smile that lights up my life; your tiny voice whispering, “I love you, mommy” and the sticky love notes you leave me all over the house. I try to remember that you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Then you grunt and startle me back to reality. It’s 7:45, school begins in 5 minutes.
You growl and mutter something ugly under your breath, I honestly can’t even remember what it was. I tell you how very disappointed I am in your behavior this morning. I inform you that you will be grounded from all electronics for the duration of the week. You begin to sob inconsolably. I’m not sure if it’s the loss of the electronics or my disappointment that has caused this outburst.
Finally, 7:47 a.m. we are headed out the door. You are annoyed at me that you will be late. I hold my tongue. As we pull away, you yell, “I forgot my ballet shoes.” Before I can respond, you begin to sob again.
“I’ll find them. Don’t worry.” You continue to sob.
We arrive at school, 4 minutes late. Before jumping out of the car, you unbuckle yourself, jump forward and hug me tightly, “I love you, Mommy.”
“I love you more!” I say to both my girls, as the other one jumps forward and gives me a kiss and squeezes me from behind. It’s 7:54 a.m. and I am spent. Even after all of this, the saddest part of my day is watching you both walk away.
Love You More!

2015/01/14
And the Award for the world’s WORST MOM goes to…..
This is a very disturbing clip. Last year, bus driver Michael Hubbard was doing his routine night run when he came within inches of running over a baby sitting in the middle of the street. The baby, Destiny, got out of her house because it is believed the door was unlocked. Now Catherine Gonzales, Destiny’s mother, is in danger of losing her children to San Antonio, Texas Child Services
Visit msnbc.com for breaking news, world news, and news about the economy
“It could happen to anybody in the world” ???Are you freaking kidding me?? I don’t think so!!! This bitch is crazy! Baby Destiny was 14 months old, what the hell was the kid doing up that late? They said “the girls were getting ready for bed”? What 14 month old baby gets themselves ready for bed at that time of night? Shouldn’t that little girl have been sleeping for 4+ hours already? Catherine, the award winning mother, said “How could that happen”? It happened because you were sitting on your fat ass NOT watching your kids!!! Hey Cathy…you suck and I hope Child protective services does just that…protects your girls! Get a clue and pay attention to your girls! “things like this do happen”? No, things like this don’t happen! You are most deserving of the World’s Worst Mom and perhaps even warranting a special appearance on this week’s Throat Punch Thursday! 12 feet woman! That’s all that came between your baby and a bus! Think about that!
2010/05/25
Postponing Motherhood and the Consequence I Never Considered
I never thought of the possible consequences of postponing motherhood but lately, I’ve been missing that new baby smell. It’s crazy that I am saying this out loud because it feels a little like something I should be keeping to myself but what they hell, I figure when I go through these difficult times, I’m not usually the only one feeling this way. I can’t be the only one who has regretted not having more kids or wishing they’d started having babies earlier. (more…)
2016/10/06
A Mom’s Guide to Surviving Daylight Savings Time DST
As someone who has a broken internal clock, I never understood what the big deal about surviving daylight savings time (DST) was all about. It had no effect on me. I function on 4 hours of sleep, doesn’t matter when I get that sleep. I had myself convinced that Daylight savings time was a myth and my husband was just being dramatic. Then, I tried to get healthy.
This year, I decided that I was going to get healthy. Sitting on your rump for 4 months with a broken leg will do that to a person. I did what everyone does on the first of the year, I promised to myself that this would be the year that I got “healthy” not skinny, just healthy; no longer obese with a BMI of 33 or something like that. I’d look it up for you but, honestly, I’m just too tired today. Daylight Savings Time, you are killing me Smalls!
See, part of my get healthy scheme included seeing my physician for a physical, to rule out any medical issues, moving more, making better food choices more often and eating in appropriate quantities for my size and stature. It wasn’t a scheme at all; it was a plan to live healthier. No more putting my faith and health in the hands of a diet. I need to do this for myself, the right way.Guess what happened? I lost some weight. Not a lot but enough to get out of my dreaded fat pants and into the regular size section.
But all that working out (I enjoyed it so much that I actually developed tendonitis from working out every day and had to pull back to every other day…that hasn’t happened to me in years) and eating more conscientiously had an added benefit of me actually falling to sleep…by 11 p.m. every night, without any sleep aid. I’ve been a diagnosed insomniac for all of my adult life so this was HUGE.
So there I was thinking I was hot shit with my lower BMI, smaller pants, working out to my CIZE dvd and eating healthier; feeling like a boss with almost 8-hours of sleep every single night. OMG…it changed my life, for real. Life just seemed easier and more palatable. The stressors were not as stressful and I found myself not being a super b*tch and hangry hasn’t hit in a couple months. Then DST came and jacked me all up.
Sunday morning, I slept in until 10 a.m. and I only woke up because my mom and sister were visiting and they wanted to head home and got tired of waiting for me to wake up, but at least I slept in. By the time Monday rolled around, after staying up until midnight because I wasn’t sleepy at my regular 11 p.m. (because it was only 10 p.m.) when my alarm went off at 6 a.m. I could not move, exhaustion had set in. I literally could not wake up and neither could my kids. All bets were off and snooze was on full blast.
I had finally gotten my body to a healthy place of rest, eating and working out and now it was having none of this not enough sleep B.S.! This morning, it was even worse. I lay in bed until 7 a.m. and I still felt like I had been up drinking all night long with none of the great stories to accompany it. Is this what being a healthy grown up is all about? Because if it is, it kind of stinks.
Enough is enough already. I did some research and this is what I found.
Tips and tricks to surviving daylight savings time.
- Preparation is the ounce of prevention you need!
Make the time change incrementally beforehand. Set all alarm clocks in the house 15 minutes earlier and earlier for five days or so. This way by the time Monday rolls around, you and the kids can actually wake up and it avoids a lot of morning arguments because, really, who has time for that, especially during the DST transition. Not me.
Begin on Saturday:
- Around midday, get some exercise. Exercise and sunshine helps advance the body clock, just as bright light exposure does so go outside and play with the kids, go for a walk or do some yard work. Your body will thank you on Monday.
- Never exercise at night. Exercise raises your body temperature but people fall asleep as temperatures lower so be cool. No exercise at night.
Sunday morning:
- Get up at your regularly scheduled time— whether you had a good night’s sleep or not. This is tough love for your body.
- Spend some time outside, preferably in the sunshine to help advance your body clock.
- Take a morning walk. After a short night, taking a family walk is an easy exercise to help advance your body clock. If your kids are anything like mine, they will jump at the chance because they no all walks lead to the neighborhood park.
Have a bedtime routine for everyone:
- Don’t eat a heavy meal after 6 pm. Don’t eat more than 3 hours before your bedtime.
- Don’t drink a lot of caffeine or alcohol.
- Don’t nap during the day.
- Stop working on your laptop/computer/phone an hour before bedtime to turn your brain off.
- Make sure your sleep environment is comfortable.
- Don’t turn bright lights on at night.
- Take a warm, not hot, shower.
- Turn off all electronics and read a relaxing book, no Tom Clancy books at bedtime.
What’s your tricks and tips for surviving daylight savings time?
2016/03/15
It’s Not Selfish to Look After Yourself, Mom
Estimated reading time: 4 minutes
Being a mom means that often you have to give up the things that you want to do in favor of the things that you need to do. It blows, if I’m being honest. It means that your children have to come first, and you have to come second more often than not. However, this does not mean that you should not be looking after yourself also. You are still a person, and you still need to look out for yourself, make sure that you’re healthy mentally and physically.
If you feel as though you’re reaching your breaking point, but you don’t want to do anything about it as you feel “selfish”, you need to understand that it’s not selfish to look after yourself. I can relate to this more today than I ever have in my life. I just took 3 jobs and to say that I’m ”tired” is an understatement. Remember how tired you were in those first few weeks of being a mom? Back in the days when you were cluster feeding around the clock until your milk came in, you were terrified the baby would stop breathing while you were sleeping so you never did and you were still recovering physically and emotionally from becoming a new mom? Yeah, I feel like that times 3.
In fact, for the first time in my life, I ACTUALLY understand the term “bone-tired” because ladies and gentlemen, even my frigging bones are begging for a nap. Don’t be like me. I’m overwhelmed, exhausted and feeling utterly guilty from how much I’m working. Did I mention that I am also finishing up my Master’s program and planning my daughters’ quinceañera, all while doing digital marketing for 2 companies and writing daily news and educational articles for parents?
Keep reading for more tips on how to take care of yourself, to be happier. And yes, I’m planning on taking my own advice, just as soon as I get through this week of quinceañera prep.
You Don’t Want to Burn Out
First, you need to make sure that you do not burn out. If you get to a point where you are completely burned out, then you are not going to be able to help anyone, not even your kids. All you’re going to want to do at this point is sleep for days, and then you’re not spending this time with your kids anyway. These are hard facts ladies but ones you need to hear. As such, why is it not okay to take the time that you need to collect yourself and feel better, but it’s okay to sleep when you reach the point that your body physically cannot take it anymore?
Burnout is scary when it happens to everyone involved. Avoiding this as much as you can, should be one of your top priorities. BTW, I think I am hitting the burnout phase as I’ve been doing this 3 job thing for 3 weeks now.
Take A Break to Be You Again
It’s okay to take a break from your children. You do not need to be with them all the time to be a good parent. You do not need to deny yourself things that are perfectly reasonable to want in order to be a good parent. You do not need to stay at home all the time with the endless piles of things to do to be a good parent. You can go out. You can do the things that you love to do. You can go and see your friends, drink a paloma cocktail and dance and still be a good parent. You can take a bath for more than 5 minutes, you can read a book, or watch a movie without your kids just to give yourself some time to be you.
At the end of the day, you are still a person and you need to be treated as such. Find someone to look after the kids for a little while, and just be you, the real you; the woman you were before you became their mom.
I hope that you’ve found this article helpful, and now see some of the things that you need to know when you feel guilty for taking a break from your kids. It’s not a bad thing to do, and it’s not as though you are a superhero who can do everything all the time. You are a human and you’re allowed to need some time for yourself, and I promise that this is okay. And now, I’m off to take my own advice and go take a long, hot shower, crawl in bed and binge-watch my favorite K-drama.
2022/06/18
Every Time I Sneeze I Pee My Pants
Today was the anniversary of the day I fell and dislocated my elbow last year. I know that because my amazon photos wanted to taunt me today. It also happens to be the 21^st anniversary of the night the Big Guy asked me to marry him. Weird, right?
All day today I was dreading going outside for fear that I might slip on the ice (because the kids had no school today because of icy roads). I stayed inside with the kids most of the day, just waiting for the clock to run out on this day. Then, I went outside because I had to run an errand and ironically enough, not only was there ice everywhere but there I was wearing UGGS again. UGGS the exact kind of shoe I was wearing when I bit it in the wet yard last year. God, I can actually feel the crunch of my elbow dislocating if I close my eyes. But I’m fine. No slips and falls today.
ALSO READ: Beware the Slick Spots
Tonight we were planning our Disney vacation for this fall because we are those people who like to return to the scene of the crime. Since our first trip to WDW was on our honeymoon, we have to go back this year. Right in the midst of the joy of surviving the day and celebrating our engagement anniversary, I sneezed and peed my pants. My kids, keeping me humble since 2005.
This day just reminded me that life can be simultaneously amazing and shitty in the same 24 hours. It’s all in our perspective, although, I’m pretty sure falling and dislocating your elbow constitutes a bad day any way you slice it. However, I’m just thankful that my elbow kept me from hitting my head on the cement. And who cares if I pee my pants when I sneeze sometimes, that’s what panty liners are for. Also, would I ever trade my kids with their big heads for a non– stress incontinent existence? NO, I wouldn’t.
ALSO READ: Everything New at Walt Disney World
I guess all this to say, I’m going to Disney World! But mostly to say, we don’t always know what life is going to throw at us, or on top of us or beneath us but we know that even if it hits us square in the face sometimes, we’re going to be fine. It’s going to hurt for a while and maybe there will be permanent damage but we will figure it out.
That’s what I’m doing, I’m figuring it out; motherhood, being a wife, being a good friend, living on my own terms, surviving the shittiest of days and embracing the little profound moments of complete bliss. I have no clue how I’m going to make it all work. I never have but I do it. I do it because that’s life. Failure really isn’t an option.
So the next time you’re laughing and you start to pee a little, look around, is there any place else that you’d rather be? Probably not. Not really. Not when it’s all said and done and the kids are asleep and your husband is beside you watching your favorite show. Laugh on, laugh hard, laugh loud and then change those panties and live to laugh another day.

2019/01/23
How to Keep Your Shit Together
Estimated reading time: 7 minutes
These past few weeks of motherhood have been thus far some of the hardest ever. Shit has happened that no one teaches you about in the parenting books. I’ve studied the whole of the DSM and I still couldn’t have been prepared, as a mother, for the kind of emotional toll that has been taken on me. That’s why I’m realizing how to protect your mental health while taking care of everyone else is so important for parents.
You know there are things you expect, in the back of your head, in the bottom of your heart and right there in the pit of your stomach. Things that you know can happen, like all those terrible side effects they warn you of when you are taking the drugs that will save your life. You take them anyways because living is more important than having the shakes. Well, my friends, this shit was not on the warning label when I got pregnant. Or maybe it was and I chose not to believe it.
I have been struggling with mental illness since the teen years. There is a whole list of disorders and illnesses that I can speak of at length and in-depth. That should have been a red flag to me that maybe I needed to be a little more prepared for what could happen if the girls got triggered. But, I thought, I’ve got this. I found my way out of the darkness. It’ll be fine. And it was until it wasn’t anymore.
In my teen years, my mind was held hostage in a dark abyss. I couldn’t find my way out or at least it felt like I couldn’t but, true to Debi fashion, one step at a time, one moment at a time, I survived. Barely. Even though there were days when it was so painful to be alive that I prayed something or someone would kill me because I couldn’t do it myself and hurt my mom. She was my savior and she had no idea of the dark thoughts that were infiltrating my brain. It’s probably better that way. But I know.
In those days, it hurt to breathe because it felt counterintuitive and I cried more tears than I thought were even possible. But, my childhood was tumultuous to put it nicely. A lot of bad shit happened to me and when you’re a kid, you can only take so much before you break. Or so I thought. I’m more resilient than I ever imagined because I never actually broke, I just bent as far as my child mind and body could.
I promised myself that I would never allow that to be my daughters’ stories. They would live a “normal” life. As if I even know what that looks like. I promised myself they would never be triggered and I thought I could protect them from my same fate. But I was wrong. There are some things we can’t actually stop from happening, no matter how hard we try or how ‘good’ we are at this parenting thing. Maybe this is why I feel like such a fraud when people compliment me. I know the truth. There are simply some things that are beyond our control. That’s a hard and bitter pill for this recovering smother mother to swallow.
How to protect your mental health while taking care of everyone else is a hard, but imperative, balance to find
Today, I took my daughter to her first adolescent group therapy session. Never expected that to be a milestone. She almost cried when I left her. I almost cried when I left her in a room full of strange kids in their own turmoil. Is this a good idea? Is she going to get ideas or learn bad habits? But isn’t this supposed to help her live? All that matters is that she makes it through, by any means possible. She is the most important thing in my life. She and her sister are truly my entire reason why.
A couple of weeks ago, her depressive episode got so bad that I could see her slipping into that same dark abyss that I used to live in. I lived there for years. I honestly thought I’d never escape. I resigned myself to living there alone with my pain until it killed me. For me, it started at 12-years-old with body dysmorphia, then the major depression and suicidal ideations started around freshman year of high school, onto eating disorders beginning around 17 ( bulimia then anorexia with extreme exercising), and ultimately a diagnosis of bipolar 1 when I spent most of my college years and my mid 20’s manic AF. I didn’t have my first panic attack until I was 35-years-old but according to my psychiatrist, anxiety was there first.
As a child, I was prone to terrible stomach aches that landed me in the emergency room on more than one occasion. That’s how little Debi’s anxiety from living with an abusive, alcoholic father first manifested. But I learned quickly, around 7-years-old, how to develop my coping mechanisms. I’m a counter. It worked for years until my husband lost his job when I was 35. #mommysfirstpanicattack Yep, if I’m anxious and talking to people (pushing through my anxiety) I’m probably counting every word you are saying and all the letters in the words. I know I’m an extrovert but I also have my limits. I didn’t even realize I counted or what it meant until about a year into my therapy. Did I mention now ADHD is on the table? Aye aye aye. Like seriously, what the actual fuck?
Anyways, most if not all of these things are in control ( save for a little mania that gets triggered when I’m under duress…you know like when you’re dealing with the guilt and pressure of passing along your fucked up brain chemistry to your children). You have not had mom guilt of this level if you haven’t genetically fucked your kids up. It is a special kind of hell because it is in fact my fault. I’ve been crying about this a lot lately.
Right now, I’m trying to keep my shit together while putting out a seemingly unlimited amount of mental health trash fires over here daily. It’s a lot. I’m overwhelmed. I’m triggered and I’m trying my best to do what’s best for everyone, especially my girls. I thought I was holding it together. I mean I know that on the inside, I’m falling apart but I thought on the outside, I was taking care of business. I think I am for the most part but I’m neglecting myself. I know this because the other days while I was sobbing about my daughter’s mental health crisis, I could hear my pressured speech and feel my pressured thoughts machine-gunning out of my head and my husband gave me a hug and said, “But Debi, you haven’t looked happy for a while.” And he’s not wrong. I’m too overwhelmed and exhausted and scared to be happy because what right do I have when my children are in pain?
That’s how I know that I need to step back, take inventory and do whatever I need to do to get my own mental health in order. Because skipping myself isn’t doing any favors for my children or my husband. In fact, I’m adding to the pile of neverending trash fires currently going on. Look, I’m not complaining. This is me processing. I write, that’s how I survive.
If you’ve ever wondered why my feeds are not perfectly curated, it’s not because I don’t know that it’s what people want its because I refuse to live a lie. My battle with eating disorders made me a liar for about 8 solid years. You have to lie to hide the fact that you are slowly killing yourself from the people who love you. If not, they will stop you from your slow suicide. And I preferred to exile myself from everyone than to let them know how truly vulnerable and pathetic I was.
I spent so many years striving for perfection and I’m still a fucking relentless overachiever. It’s just who I am. If I stop moving I die. But now, with years of therapy and doing the work to not only understand my disease but myself, I will never silently suffer again and I don’t want that for my daughters either. I never want them to feel that alone and afraid to live.
So how do I protect my mental health while taking care of everyone else? I have to be vigilant that I take care of myself first or I won’t be able to take care of anyone else. I know from a mom’s perspective, it sounds very selfish but it’s not. It is giving myself permission to heal so that I can help the people I love the most heal and get the help they need with my full support.
Give Yourself a Time-Out (But Actually Take It)
We’re all great at putting the kids in time-out when they need a breather, but how often do we do that for ourselves? Next time you feel the storm brewing – whether it’s a panic attack on the horizon or just a gnawing sense that you’re about to lose your sh*t – actually take a damn time-out for yourself. Lock yourself in the bathroom if you have to. Light a scented candle, hydrate, breathe deeply, and reconnect with yourself for a few sacred minutes.
Shamelessly Indulge in Your Vices Within reason, of course.
We all need small reprieves that are entirely our own – tiny pit stops of peace along this relentless race of motherhood. Maybe it’s those cigarettes you promised you’d quit, or a generous pour of red wine after the kids are in bed. Maybe it’s zoning out to trashy reality TV or snacking on the kids’ hidden stash of Halloween candy. Whatever your vice may be, indulge in it shamelessly and without guilt. You’re doing important work. You’ve earned it.
Outsource Your Overwhelm
Listen, you superwoman – there’s no award for doing it all yourself. Our villages have disbanded and the weight of everything has fallen on our overburdened mom-shoulders. So pay someone to clean your house for a few hours every week. Order meal delivery kits. Hire a college kid to mow the lawn. Get a damn robot vacuum, for Christ’s sake. Shed. That. Overwhelm. You’re a mom, not a martyr.
Reclaim Your Identity
When you became a mom, you were first reborn. Now it’s time to rediscover the human behind the caretaker. Schedule monthly mani/pedis or weekend trips with your girlfriends. Sign up for a painting or dance class for absolutely no reason other than you think it might be fun. Read books unrelated to parenting. Reminding yourself of the person you were before babies can be a balm for the soul.
Schedule Some “Me Time”
When you’re taking care of everyone and everything else, this can definitely seem like a long shot, right? But at the end of the day, you’re living your life, and that means you still have to take care of yourself. Something that might even mean putting everyone and everything else on the back burner for a bit so you can take care of yourself. After all, if you can’t take care of yourself, how can you take care of others?
But self-care means taking time to do what you want, Me Time- the time that moms almost never seem to get. Honestly, it can be whatever you want at whatever pace you want to. For example, if you want something intense like tennis, go for it; if you want something more relaxing like a digital crossword puzzle, then by all means, go for that!
You deserve to define your ‘me time” however you want. But you can’t neglect this either. You can only get yourself together if you let yourself have a break, your body and your mind needs this.
And a final word to all you fierce mamas out there: Put on your own oxygen mask first. Your mental health is precious cargo – without it, you can’t fully show up for those you love most. So prioritize your self-care. I’ll say it louder for the martyr moms in the back: You must prioritize your self-care! This isn’t just a friendly reminder, it’s an order from your resident Truth-Telling Mom. Now, share the hell out of this thing and tag a few mom friends who need to hear it!
2022/05/12
Zara Designs Holocaust Fashion for Kids & Sees Nothing Wrong with It
Throat Punch Thursday is back just for International Clothing designer ZARA from Spain. They are selling a “sheriff” shirt with stripes and a star of David that very closely resembles the shirts worn in concentration caps in Nazi Germany. Talk about low rent behavior.
Look, the world is a cesspool of shit right now. Isis is beheading Christians, African-Americans are being shot dead in the street like animals, mental illness is the silent killer like cancer of the brain chemicals and anti-Semitism is alive and well. See, I learned a very important lesson as a child, those who do not know history are destined to repeat it. Well, not trying to be captain obvious but haven’t we all been here before?
The ZARA shirt is just a reminder of what a group of assholes we can be when we try or just don’t give a shit about other people at all. I’m not going to go on a rant about what a rotten state the world is in because truth be told it’s probably always been in various states of shit depending on who you are and what your perspective is.
The reason this ZARA shirt is so offensive to me is that aside from being blatantly anti-Semitic it lets adults dress unsuspecting children in a sick and offensive garment that is reminiscent of one of the darkest days in history and then send them out into the world like a big Fuck You to the entire Jewish population. Maybe someone thought this was funny but I think it’s sad, hurtful and dangerous. What’s next, swastika print on Bermuda shorts? What are we teaching our children? Isn’t the world messed up enough without reopening old wounds?
Global warming, racism, bigotry, anti-Semitism, the objectification of women, the never ending misunderstanding and stigmatization of mental illness, gun Control, the economy, the hungry homeless on our own doorsteps and just a general lack of empathy and compassion in the world are just a few things going so wrong right now that have all happened before. Were we not paying attention the first 100 times these things have happened?
I’m a pragmatist, I know that the world will never be a perfect place. I don’t believe in unicorns and Utopia. I know that not everyone will always be accepting or tolerant of others. But wouldn’t it be nice if for a change, the assholes were in the minority instead of the majority. My eyes have begun to twitch from the news lately.
Today , I read about a male pediatric nurse who molested the 2-month old preemie baby boy who he was fostering and then video taped and took photos of the whole thing. It went on for weeks. In one video, the authorities said that they could audibly hear the baby crying. What makes a person able to stomach doing something like that to a newborn, or anyone for that matter?
What are your thoughts on this “Sheriff” shirt by Zara?
2014/08/28
Happy Halloween~ No Treat for You Fatty! Throat Punch Thursday
Tonight is Halloween. Kids wait for this one day the other 364 days of the year. What would you do if tomorrow night your sweet little girl went up to a neighbor’s house trick or treating and instead of getting a treat, she got sized up by the neighbor and the neighbor handed her a letter explaining that she has surmised your child to be obese and you are a shitty parent for letting her get that way? NO.TREAT.FOR.YOU.FATTY! I’ll tell you what I’d do. I’d march up to her house and stick my boot up her condescending ass and show her just how much I appreciate her advice.
Tomorrow night my girls are going trick-or-treating. They love Halloween, as does the Big Guy and myself. I love the whole season; the horror movies and the costumes and decorating our yard. It’s a fun holiday. There are no deep religious meanings that I need to worry about and the girls look forward to walking around the neighborhood showing off their costumes and getting treats from our neighbors.
My girls get about a bucket full of candy. They are allowed a couple pieces of candy per day for about two weeks and then the bucket gets taken into my husband’s office and made available to all the adults who need their sugary fix. I don’t see this kind of candy consumption as a problem. It is only once a year. My children aren’t diabetic, nor are they morbidly obese , they are healthy and active kids. A few pieces of candy is perfectly okay to me. Some people disagree and feel it is their personal moral obligation to stop overweight kids from themselves by refusing to give them treats.
Look, I think a child’s weight is the business of the child, their parent and their pediatrician. I am not a pediatrician nor am I a nutritionist so I would ever tell another parent what they should or shouldn’t feed their child and I would never punish a child who is heavy by telling them, “No, you’re too fat. You don’t need it!” because it’s cruel.
Her reasoning?
“I just want to send a message to the parents of kids that are really overweight,” she said. “I think it’s just really irresponsible of parents to send them out looking for free candy just ’cause all the other kids are doing it.”
This woman has no idea what is going on in these children’s lives. Maybe they have a glandular issue or are puffy from chemotherapy. Maybe this kid’s mom just died and he’s been eating his feelings. Maybe this little girl had eating disorders and has just recently been on a road to recovery. Or maybe it’s just none of her damn business. If she wants to be the part of the village that doesn’t contribute to the childhood obesity epidemic, maybe she should just turn off her damn light and not pass out candy to anyone. If she feels morally opposed to contributing to the obesification of our children, why not pass out healthy snacks? Pass out something other than candy? Or just don’t participate. But taking it upon yourself to withhold candy and dole out punishment for being overweight, seems like just going out of your way to be mean.
What do you think? What would you do if your child came back from someone’s door on Halloween with a note telling you that your kid is fat, she’s not getting a treat and you’re a sucky mom?

Happy Halloween!
2013/10/31
Book Club anyone?
So, summer reading programs are in full swing. I sign my girls up every year, since Bella’s first summer when she was 3 months old. I am sure that the librarian though I was a completely overkill new Mommy. That was OK, I didn’t mind. I’d walk into the library dressed all cute, with my super cute little baby dressed in some incredibly adorable outfit with her hair pulled up in the most incredible little bows ( yes, even if I had to use toothpaste to keep those bitches in..they were in)I pranced my blissfully happy ass across the library like I was hot stuff as people oohed and ahhed over my baby. Then I’d pick out about 20 of the cutest little books I could find, trip over my platform sandals and maneuver my way back to the front to check out. Where the librarians would tell me just how awesome a Mommy I was to be reading to my baby and instilling such great literary practices in her little baby brain. I got a little bibliophile gold star. And every time I’d walk in, the same thing would happen. Now, I am sure behind my back they were giggling thinking poor, stupid girl. None the less, I would log the books I read to her and she would pick out some trinket..sticker, board book, pencil ( yes, a pencil for a 3month old..that should have been my first hint…duh) Of course, I too would take part. I had to be a good example for my 3 MONTH OLD!( like she was keeping track..shit,I’m not even sure she could completely see me at that point).
The following summer, pretty much like the first , just as adorable as ever. By this point the librarians know me by name. They smile and coo and know all my general business. Again, Mommy and daughter..prancing our sweet asses in their doing our thing, Me being the best Mommy ever! I was a model library connoisseur. Hell, my favorite librarian even used to set aside new release movies on Tuesday and hold them for me and Bella.What a rocking Librarian.
Fast forward, the next year I have a newborn. More OOhs and AWWWS, because now there is two of them. Dressed just alike with rhyming names, those big blue eyes, and crazy smiles.Of course, Mommy wasn’t sporting platform sandals or kitten heels anymore. No, Mommy was wearing flip flops and a pony tail, looking ever so slightly rough around the edges, That’s what a toddler and a newborn do to a Mommy. That summer,when they asked if I ‘d be participating in the summer reading program I gave a little grumble..put forth an effort and squeezed out 2 books that I may or may not have actually finished reading. I’m leaning towards probably not, but when they know you on a first name basis…you gotta at least make the effort to pretend. But I still read to the girls. Bedtime can really rack up those books when you have a toddler who fights sleep!
Fast forward to this year, I have a 3 and 5 year old who run into the library like they own the place. I guess they kinda feel like they do. They walk in and all the librarians flock to them like they are their long last Grammys. Hell, we moved away for 7 months, moved back and all the librarians were celebrating that we were back.It’s really sweet, I think they missed their entertainment. But these days, the girls run in..make a mad dash for the children’s DVD rack, then head for the Macs, and then the music. I’m too tired to even argue. It never fails, even at the self check out counters, one ( or more) of the librarians make their way over to say hi to the girls. I always feel a little guilty when they eyeball my 10 dvds, 10 cds, and my The tired Mommy’s guide to passionate sex book that I have checked out 7 times and never get around to reading because I am so DAMN TIRED! But there are seldom any kids books this summer. So, I reassure them that we do, in fact, have a library in our home..chalked full of kids books ( Which we do) but of course most of the time the kids are running past it to get to the media room…. to watch the aforementioned DVDs ……from the library.
This year when they ambushed me to sign up for the kids reading program, I readily did, as I always do. I even signed up to get their Library email newsletters so they can update me when there’s new books. I also told the girls that we were going to start reading chapter books and once we finished the entire book…I’d rent the movie. It’s been a week, and we are almost through with Charlotte’s Web. Brilliant, why didn’t I think of this sooner? Of course there is another problem, with all those DVDs, somehow…the Wiggles have gone missing. You know the Wiggles DVD that we already owned but my 3 year old had to check out. The Wiggles DVD that will probably cost me $100 to replace. Yeah, that Wiggles DVD ( apparently the one dipped in gold).Then it dawned on me why the librarians really love me and my children so much, all the money I have paid them for lost and misplaced DVD’s and CD’s ( never books). I’m probably part owner of that place as much money as I have put into it. The moral of the story….Read a book. Skip the DVD. A book cost $15 to replace, a DVD dipped in gold quite a bit more. Having the librarians still ooh and awww, even when you come in wearing tennis shoes, a crooked ponytail, a spit up t-shirt and yoga pants ( though the kids are still dressed cute) PRICELESS!
2010/06/24