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The TRUTH About Motherhood

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  • Throat Punch Thursday; Apparently Somebody’s high edition

    Well, this weeks Throat punch goes to the Mommy in Florida who thought it would be cute to post this picture.

    I am not an idiot. I am assuming this girl ( she is 19) thought this picture would be funny. I mean who hasn’t posed their 11 month old with something totally inappropriate, a thong on their head, an empty beer can, a BONG and snapped a photo for posterity. I think we are all guilty of one three a few of these ourselves. I’d say probably not drug paraphernalia. I mean, who has this stuff lying around the house when they have kids? Oh yeah, crack heads, that’s who. I forgot.My bad.
    Lets face it, most of us are guilty of taking embarrassing photos of our kids that may later mortify them . But this mental midget Mommy won the prize when she , in all of her brilliance, decided that it would be a great idea to post said picture( with illegal paraphernalia in it , no less)  on Facebook. Oh yes, she is a smart one.

    Eventually, the photo fell into the hands of the Florida Dept. of Children and Families which is now in the process of drug testing both the mother and the baby, says Sky News. Can you imagine having them test your baby for pot? I wonder how they got that little guy to pee in the cup?Maybe they coaxed him with Cheerios?NO? Maybe Goldfish? NO? Maybe crack?

    John Harrell the spokesperson for the group told Sky News, “We are alarmed that any parent would take pictures of their child next to what is obviously drug paraphernalia.” It’s like she just didn’t use her little dwarfed brain in the least.

    The unnamed mother has come forward and stated to Sky News via Facebook, “If u look at the picture u can see that there is no bowl in the TABACCO [fusion_builder_container hundred_percent=”yes” overflow=”visible”][fusion_builder_row][fusion_builder_column type=”1_1″ background_position=”left top” background_color=”” border_size=”” border_color=”” border_style=”solid” spacing=”yes” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” padding=”” margin_top=”0px” margin_bottom=”0px” class=”” id=”” animation_type=”” animation_speed=”0.3″ animation_direction=”left” hide_on_mobile=”no” center_content=”no” min_height=”none”][sic] pipe…I would never ever ever let him get high.”
    Oh, well thank God for that. Obviously its OK, since there was no weed in the pipe. I wonder, does she think that marijuana is legal? Maybe on her planet it is.

    If drugs were used by or found near the baby, she could face serious charges, including losing her 11-month-old son to the state of Florida. I think this would be a good plan. She belongs in a parenting class along with the award winning broad whose kid almost got hit by the bus in the middle of the night. Maybe next time she wants a “funny” picture she can pose him with a machete? Or perhaps a nine millimeter?

    The moral of the story is drugs are bad, they cause you to do stupid things and use bad judgment..like posting pictures of you baby on FB holding a bong; alerting an otherwise oblivious DCFS about your crack-headed ways. I don’t think this baby was actually getting high, I’m not an idiot. I am, however, sure that Mommy was. But what I am really concerned about it that his chubby little finger may get lodged in the side there and be stuck forever! What if it broke and cut the poor baby? Bad Mommy..you get the Throat Punch this week for being broken in the brains department and potentially harming that adorable little boy. Actually, I think I should give a roundhouse to that bong to keep Mommy and baby out of trouble![/fusion_builder_column][/fusion_builder_row][/fusion_builder_container]

  • Mommy Truisms; Everything You Ever Wanted to Know about Motherhood

    Mommy Truisms; Everything You Ever Wanted to Know about Motherhood

    Mommy truisms ~The truth, the whole truth and nothing but my entire truth. I wish someone would have told me the truth, but I’ m sure I wouldn’t have believed them if they had tried! But no more, I refuse to further take part in the vicious cycle of perpetuating the myth of constant Motherhood bliss by sharing my brutally honest truth about Motherhood!

    • When receiving your epidural during transition labor (first of all, if you are  in transition labor..you’ve missed your window of escaping the ordeal pain free), you certainly do not care what the consequences are of an epidural mishap. Chronic migraines? Possibility of paralysis? Death? Bring it on, at that point anything was better than the pain of my labor!
    • Looking into the eyes of your newborn for the first time is, indeed, a Godlike moment filled with spirituality and you better believe it will change your life forever.
    • A baby changes everything is by far the most honest and underestimated advertising slogan of the century; of all time! Hell yeah; Pregnancy changes everything!
    • No penis ever blacked a fetus’ eye! I promise you, it doesn’t happen ..no matter what your husband wants to believe!
    • Sometimes giving into whining, screaming and tantrums is an absolute must. Do not feel like a failure! Do not beat yourself up over it! Let it go! Serenity now!
    • Mom’s Night out is imperative to your sanity! Do it! Everyone will be happier, your husband will get lucky, and the kids will be glad Mommy has pulled the grouchy stick out of her ass! Trust me, I learned this the hard way!
    • Alone time with your husband is an absolute necessity for the survival of your marriage! Don’t feel guilty, if it weren’t for the love that you two share, those kiddies wouldn’t be here. Love your man, love yourself, love your life and you will be capable of loving your children even more.
    • Sometimes a large glass of wine, after the kids go to bed, is what needs to be done to help you decompress enough to move past all of the chaos of the day. Don’t feel guilty! Keep that damn bottle chilled and when you really need it, uncork it, and sip it until you feel all warm and fuzzy inside and all the shit (literal and metaphorical) from the day falls off of you..like a nightie on your honeymoon.
    • Stay at Home Mom(SAHM) is the most underpaid, overworked, 24/7 job that a woman can ever undertake. It will let you know what you are really made  of. It’s the only job that will take you from the throes of hell to the gates of heaven within a 24 hour period and sometimes simultaneously.
    • Mommies who work outside of the home, they have double the work. We SAHM Mommies may be envious at times because they get to leave the house for a few hours, but then they have to deal with the guilt of leaving their children plus come home and do what we do all day…in 4 hours. So, cut each other some slack, its hard all the way around. There’s no getting around it; raising healthy, happy, intelligent,independent,  socially responsible humans is a lot of hard work! But I believe its worth it because in the end, no money can substitute for what a random “Me Love you MOMMY” feels like. That is priceless!

    What are your mommy truisms?

  • Mommy Truisms; The Trust Your Gut Edition

    It’s been awhile since I’ve posted any of my truisms so I may have went overboard. Of course, they are all true and we all need to know that we are not alone in this crazy ride we call Motherhood. So, hang on to your cute little crocheted hats ladies…it’s going to be an exciting and bumpy ride!Happy Mothering!

    • No matter how much you spin, Turbo Jam,  or Zumba your body will never go back exactly the way it was before babies. It may be just as good but it is changed forever.
    • If you’ve given birth, you WILL pee just a little if you sneeze or laugh too hard. Expect it. If you don’t like it…Kegel it and/or get yourself some Mommy type pantie liners.You can not prevent this from happening, no more than you can prevent your stomach getting large when pregnant.
    • Once you have a child, you will NEVER get enough sleep again…ever..for the rest of your life!
    • Children can live on cheeze-its, string cheese and apples alone. I call it the connoisseur in training program. Add some grape juice to that combo and you are raising a child with a discerning palette.
    • Stretch marks are not sexy…to anybody.Anybody who tells you they are is either a) a liar b) a liar or c) really desperate for sex and totally in love with you for giving birth to their big headed child:)
    • If you ask your child a question and they a)smile…just a little bit ( more of a grin really) b)look away and say “I don’t know” or “No” c) if they blush even the slightest whilst avoiding eye contact and  grinning; they are lying to you.
    • Kids can be unintentionally cruel because half the time they know not the meaning of the words they are using, so always remember to take any insults they hurl at you with a grain salt.I realize it still hurts your heart but they DON’T mean it! If they did, I would have already thrown myself in the river as many times as my 3 year old has told me “Mommy, me hate you!”, today alone.
    • There is NOTHING, absolutely nothing, in the entire world that is sweeter than a two little arms hugging your neck and telling you “Mommy, you are the best Mommy in the whole wide world!”Of course, their world usually only includes your house…but hey, its nice to be queen:)
    • NEVER underestimate the power of a good Mommy friend, no Mommy is an island. You need her more than you know. When you find a real one, put yourself into her loving hands. She could possibly save your life.
    • When your little girl has her first crush and the little boy’s Mom informs you that they will be attending the Nutcracker solely to see your daughter perform ( because the little boy has demanded it) try not to flash forward to her wedding and tear up.They really do grow up too fast, don’t relinquish one moment of their childhood..in your head or otherwise.
    • Some days, you may feel isolated, overwhelmed, exhausted and like you have completely lost your mind..you probably have but take solace in the fact that there are many more of us out there like you than you think or could possibly know.
    • There will be a time in your Mommy life when you are on the fence whether you want another baby or not, when that happens and your ovaries start twitching and your uterus begging for a tenant, take a minute and think it over honestly. Remember, all the long sleepless nights, breastfeeding issues, explosive diarrhea diapers and then ask yourself… do I still want to go through that again?If the answer is yes or I don’t mind…Go for it!  ( well, after consulting your spouse of course:)
    • There is nothing more cute than a 5 year old and a 3 year old in their new dresses at a tea party, and nothing as lovely as the excitement and wonderment in their eyes when they watch the Nutcracker ( or anything to do with Christmas for that matter) ballet for the first time.
    • As a mother, sometimes you will have to say, do things, be friends with people you don’t like for your children’s best interest..learn it, live it, love it!
    • It is your right as the Mommy to refuse to let your child go on a field trip that has no chaperones, two teachers and 47 kids.Do not buckle under peer pressure. It’s your child; it’s your decision..final answer!
    • In all things concerning your child’s well being, trust your gut.It’ s not just there for show, its there for a reason.
    • There is something unresistably precious about a half asleep baby stumbling out of bed and climbing up into your life( Freudian slip) lap and cuddling (even if it is 10:30 and you’re trying to write a post) let them. Savor the moment. Kiss the top of their head and bask in their cuddles.Soon, they will outgrow your lap.

  • It’s the First Annual #HoHoHoHolidayswap 2010

    Today I have the pleasure of being a part of the #HoHoHoHolidayswap ( every single time I say that , I hear the lyrics..hotel, motel, holiday inn…streaming through my head.What’s that say about me?) . Anyways, these are a great bunch of bloggers who will blow your socks off.
    But  it is my pleasure to introduce to you one of my favorite people in the world ( bloggy, real and otherwise) Naomi de la Torre the talented and beautiful author of Organic Motherhood with Coolwhip.She can also be found these days writing her velour covered ass off at SheKnows and also as the voice behind baby Lucha @ Baby Banter.
    She is a talented writer, a fabulous friend, and can be found on twitter hanging out with the cool kids! Make sure to check out her blog and leave her some love here, as well! Now, let’s give a big Truth About Motherhood welcome to the sweetest, mojito drinking, fallopian tube crossing, salsa dancing, baby wrangling, organic ,baby loving blog bestie of mine…..Naomi!
    Today, I can be found spreading my holiday mayhem at A Belle, a Bean and a Chicago Dog.
    Stop by and show me some love!
    Please stop by as many of the blogs as you can. These ladies are all great writers and you will be in for a treat.
    The Bad Sister’s Favorite Christmas
    I’m a good sister. Usually. Mostly.
    But, according to my little sister Aliza, when we were young, I was bad. Very bad. Very bad indeed. My various crimes include:
    1. Tricking her into eating cat food to impress a babysitter.
    2. Excluding her from plans to move to New York City and live in a super fabulous loft and write encyclopedias for a living with our same-age cousin Hillary.
    3. Not taking her to the bathroom and causing her to have various accidents that could have been avoided. (More on this later.)
    4. Sending her out onto a small pond in our backyard on a raft that didn’t float. (Yes, she sank.)
    5. Not playing Barbie Dolls with her. Even when she asked nicely.
    I must admit, I did all those things. And more. But the worst of all my childhood crimes is probably one that occurred on Christmas one year.
    This was during the era when neon clothes, shoulder pads, knee-length sweaters, and Cindy Lauper-inspired stirrup pants were all the rage and my sister had just received a brand-new pair of hot-pink jean stirrups. She was over the moon for her new outfit, which also came with a handful of jelly bracelets and a matching Mickey Mouse shirt. Just as we were trying on all our Christmas loot, my sister said, “Uh-oh! I have to pee!”
    For whatever reason (I simply cannot explain my motives) I raced in front of her, dashed into the bathroom and stood on top of the toilet. She came in and pleaded with me to get off. She begged me to get down. She told me that it wasn’t funny. She told me it wasn’t nice. But apparently, I found the whole situation quite hilarious and I stood there on top of the toilet laughing hysterically. That is, until she became very quiet , turned bright red, and stood motionless while a big wet circle grew on the front of her brand new hot pink stirrup pants.
    After that, I felt bad.
    But apparently not bad enough to avoid the many other crimes that I’ve been accused of during the rest of my childhood.
    Is this really my favorite Christmas?
    No, of course not. There was also the Christmas during which I got my period for the first time and my mother felt the need to shout this information at top-volume throughout my Grandma’s house in front of a whole slew of male relatives. Which caused me such intense mortification that I considered taking up residence in the bathroom and never coming out again.
    But that was probably my sister’s favorite Christmas. Not mine.
    In truth, my sister and I are the best of friends. But when we were kids, we fought as often as we got along. My two boys are the same age difference apart as us and their daily squabbles send me over the edge. Regularly. They tease each other incessantly. They fight over toys. They tell tales on each other. Sometimes, I just want to scream, “Why can’t you just get along!!??” But I guess, considering my sordid past, I really don’t have the right to say this.
    Christmas, for me, above all else, is a

    time for family. And family is love. I love my family with an intensity that sometimes crushes me to bits and makes it hard to breathe. I can’t imagine my existence without them. And I adore this time of year because it gives us all a reason to come together. With a family like mine that is spread halfway across the globe, our times together are infrequent, but they are wonderful.

    And yes, though we are now grown, we still tease each other. We argue. We play favorites. We tell stories on each other. We throw each other under the bus. Even as adults. No one is perfect.
    And though you won’t find me standing atop any toilets when my friends or family are desperate anymore,  I can’t claim that I don’t do something equally irritating and juvenile, just maybe something a little more fitting for my age range.

    [/fusion_builder_column][/fusion_builder_row][/fusion_builder_container]

  • Selfies, Sleeping Babies & the Decline of Civilization

    Selfies, Sleeping Babies & the Decline of Civilization

    Selfies, photos of babies and babies with pets have officially over saturated social media.

    I know this post will probably not get me any friends and I am honestly not trying to be an asshole. I am a sucker for a cute baby photo as much as the next person but honestly, is anyone else getting tired of seeing babies (other than their own) sleeping? I currently have over 100,000 photos that I have taken of my girls since they were born. I took them for my own enjoyment. Sure they are adorable but you don’t want to see every photo of my daughters, every moment captured. I mean its babies in baskets, babies with puppies, babies with daddies, babies with other babies and babies as part of art while they sleep. Babies with painted on mustaches, wearing fedoras and roller skates. Gatsby baby sipping an old fashioned and astronaut baby planting a flag on the moon while baby Mike Tyson and baby Evander Holyfield chew on one another’s ears.

    When my kids are asleep, especially when they were asleep as babies, there was no way in the world I was going to be using them as props with animals or amidst the backdrop of a cityscape or flying through space or taming a lion or whatever the hell else they are doing these days. Also, where are you guys finding the time?

    baby as art, Sioin Queenie Liao, selfie
    The more I look at these adorable photos done by Sioin Queenie Liao, I am reconsidering babies as art because OMG, my ovaries are twitching from the cute

    Are these only children? Do you have a nanny? Is this your job? When my kids were babies and slept, I let them sleep because an overtired baby or child woken out of a nap before it ran its course was certainly not worth a photo op! My sanity is worth more than a potentially viral photo op. I always let sleeping babies lie.Sure, I think the photos are awesome but I don’t want to see every.single.one. you take. When did this happen? Do we keep nothing for ourselves anymore?

    And the selfies? Holy fuck am I sick of the close up, Zoolander faces, #nakedselfies in the shower, at the gym, in the bathroom, in the ER getting stitches, giving birth breastfeeding and ass wiping. Is there nothing sacred anymore? Look I enjoy a good fly on the wall moment as much as everybody else too but suddenly, it’s just too damned much. People, pump your social media brakes. You’re telling us all too much. If a picture’s worth a thousand words than you just told me what a raging douche bag you are, in 15 languages, 67 different ways.

    selfies, babies sleeping, babies and pets, photos, social media
    Credit: Instagram & Danielle Lloyd

    Selfies have their place. We’ve all taken them. Hell, as moms we are the photographers in most cases so, sure, we have to slip a selfie in here and there just to commemorate that we are here. That we lived. That’s fine. I’ve taken selfies. We all need avatar photos for FB and Twitter, etc but for grown ups to be taking selfies every day or in some cases multiple times a day, you might have an addiction. Take as many selfies as you want for your private collection but I don’t think the entire world needs to see you chew your food, kiss your kid’s booboo, your outfit of the hour or how your eye make-up looks and we certainly don’t need to see you in the shower with your baby, your backside or your stomach after eating; those are moments that you should keep and cherish for yourself. Nobody needs to see your post-coital selfie unless you are a hooker for hire.

    Looks like just like with food, we all need to learn some social media selfie portion control; everything in moderation my friends. Take as many selfies and kitschy, cute and creative photos of your children and your pets as you like but how about we exercise some self-control and and only upload a chosen few to FB and  Twitter. If you must photo dump to satiate some need to document every image, why not keep it to Instagram?

    P.S. NONE of this applies to newborns. Bring on the newborn photos, I can look at them all day:) Just don’t pair them with the family pet or use them as a prop in an elaborate creative purge every hour on the hour.

    What are your thoughts of this time we live in of constant selfies, sleeping babies and their exciting lives with their pets?

     

    Photo credit: If you can’t get enough of these cute kid photos, check out Sioin Queenie Liao slideshow on Today Moms bit I’ll never budge on selfies.

  • Election, Election What’s Your Function

    Election, Election What’s Your Function

    election day, democracy, Romney, Obama, Presidency

    Tomorrow is Election Day. This year is no joke. I am frightened. History hangs in the balance. This is a history making  election. I’ve been seeing a lot of tweets about how close the race is and how we should all stop bullying one another in this election. I agree, it is way too close. I also agree that no election should be about bullying. We should respect one anothers decision to cast our vote in any direction we see fit. I also feel that is our duty, as voters, to know the facts, weigh the options and vote for what is best for us and elect the candidate that we most strongly agree with on the most issues. It’s a process of intense elimination and employees a lot of common sense and interest. (more…)

  • They Said til Death Do Us Part

    They Said til Death Do Us Part

    There was one thing that scared me a bit in 2013; Divorce. There sure were a lot of people getting divorced. Even people who you thought were perfect for one another and had great marriages, suddenly they were done. Next thing you know that they’re already having deeper issues because of parental alienation syndrome. What is parental alienation syndrome, you ask? Go to kabirfamilylaw.co.uk for more details.  I started to believe that maybe marriage had a shelf life even after you made it past the dreaded 7-year-itch and the expiration date was somewhere between the 11-18 year mark. We’re about to hit 15 years, so we are right smack dab in the middle of the likely to divorce session of marriage.I guess it makes sense, those are the years when people find themselves getting bored. Babies are born and life has become predictable and maybe you miss the excitement of when it was all new. You’ve both changed and maybe instead of growing together, you’ve grown apart. I get it. People grow up and perspectives and beliefs change and evolve. What’s important to you at 23, might not be important at all when you are 33.

    It felt like everyone I knew was going through an early midlife crisis and their spouse had suddenly become as obsolete to them as condoms. No one gets married thinking this will be nice for 10 years or so but no one should stay in a bad marriage but I also think we should work hard to try to salvage a good one. Sometimes just talking, really talking and listening to one another can make all the difference because maybe your partner is having all the same questions and fears about the marriage. I have also seen first hand that hurts done without sincerely apology can kill love dead. Together maybe you can work towards fixing it but if one person is oblivious to the turmoil the marriage is in or content with the way things are and the other is miserable, things build up and people part ways. It made me think. It made me wonder what the fuck would I do if I found myself suddenly single at 41?

    I mean 41 is not old but it’s also not prime husband shopping years. I’ve given birth, gained weight and have a lot more baggage than I did at 25. I have kids for God’s sake. It’s not just my life a relationship would effect, it’s my girls’ lives too and who could I ever trust to care for them and love them like their own father because they’d be marrying all 3 of us; we’re a package deal. Not to mention, and I hate to admit it, I don’t tan or pluck and shave and workout like I once did. My unibrow is just about got the band back together and my mustache, well, I swear that sonofabitch is trying to join forces with this sudden onset middle age chin fuzz. My boobs, they are further south than I knew was possible for women under 80 and every single bone in my body pops and cracks when I walk. I swear, I am 1 duct taping away from falling completely apart. Attractive, right? You’re probably wondering why the hell my husband’s still around with all that going on in the first place? I can only guess its because crazy turns him on.

    The Big Guy and I got married agreeing that we don’t believe in divorce. There is only one way out of this marriage and that is death. Now, you can go by natural causes like old age two days after I die or you can break one of the deadly sins of marriage like abusing a wife or a child in any way or cheating, having extramarital relations. We’ve joked about it and I’ve warned him of how if we ever divorce he will keep me in the lifestyle I am accustomed to and he will have the children and pets every weekend (because you know I’ll have to be on the prowl for a wealthy man. Yep, I married for love once, next go around I need financial stability and botox and such. ) But really, we both know, there is only ONE way out of this marriage and it involves death and us parting.  It’s all just a matter of how, why and when you go.

    I’d just assume skip the whole homicidal thing plus I really quite like being married to the Big Guy so I’ve decided maybe I’d like to spice up the marriage we have. What we have works but I know we are boring. At the end of the day, he is still my favorite person in the world, my best friend and when he grabs my hand to hold it, it still takes my breath away. We’re both older, heavier and we know all of each others old stories. We know what the other is thinking before they ever say it. It may sound boring if you are on the outside looking in but we still surprise one another with a flirty glance or a thoughtful gesture. Through it all; ups and downs, good and bad, rich and poor there is one constant; unconditional love and everyone knows that trumps that new relationship feeling.

    The girls are getting a little older so maybe it’s time to focus a little more time on the marriage now that we can spend a little less time trying to keep the kids alive. At 6 and 8 they are pretty good about walking up stairs, keeping keys out of electrical outlets and averting danger and they’ve gotten really good at breathing through the night…I know, I still check. So maybe a little 15 year spice is just the preventative measure we need to insure marital bliss for years to come. Plus, really, nobody wants to die anytime soon.

    What do you do to keep your marriage new and exciting? OR if you have gotten a divorce, what do you wish you would have done differently?

  • Zya, The Ultimate Music Game

    Zya, The Ultimate Music Game

    Have you heard of the Zya App? Neither had I. But then again, I don’t usually play many games online unless it’s Candy Crush or online casino games on 메리트카지노. Most of my game playing these days is limited to checkers and Rock Band marathons. We love music so when I heard about Zya, it sounded perfect for my girls.

    girlszya

    Zya is a revolutionary new music game that allows anyone to create hit songs on their iPhones and iPads.

    I particularly love it if we’re traveling with little ones. Give them a pair of headphones and let them go crazy. Give them the headphones or you will be the crazy one by the end of the trip.

    My girls love it. It’s like their very own Rock Band game and they don’t have to wait for Mommy and Daddy to play guitar and drums because they can select their very own band. My girls love that they can sing duets with their famous artists and their hit songs like Blurred Lines, She Will Be Loved, Poker Face, and many others. They choose the songs, their band mates, instruments and what they want them to sound like. My girls are at the age where they really enjoy those games that allow you to style Barbie, so being able to choose what their avatars look like and how they sound is right up their alley.

    photo 4 photo 3 zya

    It’ super simple to use and your kids, even the 4-year-olds will be able to figure out how to create music in a few easy steps. With autotune available no one will ever sound tone deaf ever again. It’s cool because it gives the kids a tangible outcome that they can show off to Grandma and Grandpa.

    zya

    My girls are both musically inclined and love to sing and perform so this game is perfect for them. It gives them a creative outlet to play with and develop new music and sounds. They love the choices and different versions of favorite songs they can create. Here is a one of their creations.

    Have you used the Zya app?

     

    Disclaimer: I was compensated for reviewing this product but all opinions are my own.

  • People Without Children Should STFU about Parenting

    People Without Children Should STFU about Parenting

    I love British humor and this comedian, Michael McIntyre, has wrapped up parenthood about as well as anyone ever has. He says what we’ve all thought at one time or another, people who don’t have kids have no idea what they are talking about when they discuss parenting or offer their advice on how you, in your sleep deprived, baby brain, overwhelmed self, can be a better parent if you would only just stop making it so damn hard.

    My daughters are 6 & 8, so I have been doing this parenting thing for quite a while now. I love it almost every single moment but there are moments like when my 6-year-old wakes up in the middle of the night, goes to the potty ( in my bathroom after turning on the light in the hallway in my room) sits down and when I go to check on her, promptly develops the worst case of potty rage, I have ever seen. “Get.OUT.MOMMY@!!! I don’t want you in here!” This usually continues for about 30 minutes until I give up and my husband comes in to help at which point she screams at the top of her lungs that she now hates him and wants me.Then she walks past us both and gets in our bed and hogs all of the covers.

    Or what about every morning when the same said 6-year-old, who is a complete sweetheart between the hours of 8 am and 7 pm, wakes up shouting that she doesn’t want to get up. She’s tired. I’m mean and her stomach/eye/nose/butt/and/or ankle are all hurting her and I don’t care.You know why? Because it’s hard to care when she does it every day and she spent the previous night waking you up to yell at you that she hates you in her potty rage. Then she stares at her food for 30 minutes, only to complain that it is cold when she takes her first bite. When she does finally make it upstairs, she dawdles around for another 20 minutes which ends in a fast and furious mad dash for the front door with hair being brushed out the door, shirts not tucked, forgetting water/snack/book or homework and usually, her yelling, “Why do you always rush me?” Let’s not even get started on her sister who has mastered the art of the eye roll and walkaway.

    Anyways, this comedian has mastered the toddler/preschool years. I know, I’ve been there. Some days we still have to beg the 6-year-old to put on her damn shoes and walk out the door. It’s fun to watch if you’re not in the middle of it and he is so right, people without kids have no idea because they have nothing to compare it to. Just like you can’t explain labor to a person who’s never given birth because they can listen but they can not understand the all consuming pain that comes with evicting an unwilling dweller from your body.

    So, 25-year-old lady at the grocery store with the perfectly manicured nails, clean clothes, bright eyed and bushy-tailed because she got laid before her 10 hours of sleep, stop giving me dirty looks when I hand my kid my phone to keep her occupied so I can get the groceries I need to feed her before she decides to go off like a nuclear bomb in this joint because she missed nap time. And never, ever, if you value your life, give parenting advice to a parent if you don’t have children of your own because you might think you know what it’s like but you have no fucking idea of the things we’ve seen and done since giving birth. You should be afraid, be very afraid!

  • Why No Woman Will Ever Be Good Enough

    Why No Woman Will Ever Be Good Enough

    I read a post written recently by Petra Collins titled Why Instagram Censored My Body. You need to read it. Petra’s instagram account was for the crime of posting a photo of herself from the waist down in a pair of bikini bottoms. She had not had a bikini wax. There was no Borat like tactics with rogue pubic hairs escaping at alarming rates but there was a definite shadow at her bikini line. I was not offended. Hair grows naturally; it’s supposed to be there. Grown women are not supposed to have pubic areas that mimic small children. Even though I’d never have the balls to grow in my pubic hair never mind snap a photo and post it to Instagram, I respect Collins for doing so.

    We live in a world where women are expected to look, act, be and do things a very specific way. The manual for how to be a woman was obviously not written by a woman. It is very meticulous in the wish list for the perfect woman. Perhaps a teen boy wrote it at the beginning of time. It’s nearly ridiculous enough that I could believe it.

    We all live by these imaginary, unwritten rules, whether we intend to or want to or not. We may wish we did not or pretend that we don’t care but every single woman who has ever lived has known that these rules for how to be the perfect woman exist. We either chose to embrace it, hate it, fight it or pretend to adhere while hiding who we really are and live with the shame of not being good enough. That is where most of us live, in the shame and unhappiness of not being good enough to meet these crazy unreachable expectations. If we are beautiful enough, we don’t feel smart enough. If we are smart enough, we don’t feel attractive enough. If we are thin enough, we don’t feel interesting enough. If we are interesting enough, we don’t feel exciting enough. If we are exciting enough, we don’t feel responsible enough. We never feel completely satisfied with who we are in the world. Do men?

    Too much sex; we’re sluts. No sex: we’re frigid. The assumption is that men want to date sluts but marry virgins but no one wants to date a virgin. It’s a woman’s personal choice why can’t we all just have a preference without being labeled? An average sized body is considered too fat. Fat is considered disgusting. Malnourished and eating disordered is considered beautiful, no one cares the toll it takes on that woman to get there. Small breasts are not big enough. Big is never big enough. Damn your back and the fact that you look like a cartoon character. If you work, you should be home. If you stay home, you should be barefoot and pregnant. If you don’t work, you are useless. If you don’t want kids, there is something wrong with you. If you can’t handle your kids, something is wrong with you. If you’re succeeding at your career, you must be shirking your responsibilities as a woman elsewhere; unhappy husband, neglected children or bad hair. The expectation is that the house is supposed to be clean at all times and a home cooked meal is supposed to be on the table no matter what else is going on.

    You are supposed to be beautiful, thin, patient and love motherhood. You’re never supposed to rest or complain. You’re always supposed to be happy. If you have an opinion, you are overbearing. If you don’t, you’re an dumb. If you’re smart, you’ve got a good personality but no dates. If you speak up for yourself, you are bossy. If you take a stand, you are a bitch. The world is a masochistic, ironic murderer of the woman’s self. The dichotomy of who women are and who they are expected to be is enough to make the sanest of our heads spin but then if we complain, we must be bipolar, PMSing or just bitter. How sad is it that we live in a world where women commonly use fat as a protection against their sexuality or the sexual advances from others? How fucked up is it that the worst thing a woman believes she can be is ugly or unattractive in any way to men? How sad is it that we live in a world where women still confuse sex as love?

    We’ve been forced to stoamch women being treated as less than for so long that we accept it as the state of affairs. The unspeakable is status quo. We have been beaten down for so long that we no longer fight. We are too weak from the fury of fighting just to be treated as equal human beings.

    I’m here to tell you that you are….
    More beautiful than you can see. Special in your own way. Smarter than you will ever believe. Stronger than you think. Talented in ways you never expected. Perfect just the way you are. Better than enough. You set the rules. This is your life. You deserve to be happy. Fuck other people’s expectations. The only one you answer to is yourself. Choose to be happy. Shave. Pluck and wax if you want. If you don’t, let your bush flag fly but never let someone else dictate your happiness. To truly be perfect, we need to be free to be ourselves all the time without consequence of backlash for being scrutinized for every choice we make.

    What is the one thing that You love about YOU?

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