The Best Part of Waking Up
Oct 21, 2009 All Things X, DUH, Family, P.O.E. Biz, Parenting, Wicked MOMMY Wisdoms
Lets just start off about how I am not a morning person.
Lets also mention that I became a morning person today when I was on the 9-year-old-ass-whooping-prowl bright and early at 7:30 am PST.
Oh I know you all want to know what happened. It is okay. I won’t tell anyone that the sadist in you is begging you to not feel sorry for Xavier right now and that is okay. I don’t feel sorry for him one iota.
This morning, as usual, I woke him up to get in the shower. Then, I crawled my cranky ass back into bed to make it look all normal and shit. He, of course, was unexpecting and bought it. He took his shower, and began to go about his 9 year old, getting ready for school business as usual.
Not today Xavier. Not the fuck today.
So I pop up and out, following him to his bedroom all smirky-face like.
X: (looking back at me) “What?”
Me: “What do you mean ‘what’?”
X: “Nothing.”
Me: “Oh not nothing my friend. Drop the towel.”
(God damnit I wish I had a picture of his face.)
X: “Why?!”
Me: “Really? You have to ask?”
X: (face crunching up into a omgsheisgonnawhoopmyasscryface) “Mom nooooooo!”
Me: “Xavier. Drop the towel.”
He drops the towel. I then proceed to bend his naked 9 year old self over his bed, police-elbow-in-the-back and whoop his bare ass off of his body. He wailed like no ones business, and then I went back to bed.
What a great start to my day. I gangstered the fuck out of the rest of this day. It truly was the best part of waking up … and I mean that from the bottom of my icy fucking heart.
Why are you looking at my blog with that face? Are you upset that I find sick pleasure from morning ass whoopins? If so, are you new? If you knew anything about me as a parent, this comes with a great deal of build up. Ass whoopin’s are earned. I don’t just whoop ass for the sake of doing so. I do it to make sure it means something. So yeah, you are God damned right there is pleasure there.
I am considering waking this little shit up with morning ass whoopins for the duration of his punishment.
Say I won’t.
Also, I have a TMIT (Shot out to Lilu) for you. It is not my TMIT (thank god) but I was forced to be a part of it today at lunchtime.
Wanna hear it? Hear it goes.
Today on the way to lunch, I had to stop on the 1st floor to pee. It literally hit me when we got on the elevator. So I walk into the bathroom and enter this conversation:
Random Girl: (IN THE FUCKING STALL) “Hi I would like to place an order for pick up.”
(Pause)
Random Girl: “I would like the super nacho’s please … mmmhm … chicken … uhh no … I do not want sour cream. … Mmmmhm extra cheese please ….”
And then, as if it doesn’t get any grosser, she pushed and some poop hit the water.
Random Girl: “Can I get the total?”
Me: (silently LMFAO) “FLUSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH”
Oh yes the fuck I did flush the toilet while she was on the phone. I hope they heard the echo too.
Who in the motherfuck thinks about what food they want to eat while taking a shit? Really? Like … is it just not possible to make that call before or AFTER you poop? I just do not understand the phone talking while going to the bathroom as it is, but ordering food?! REALLY?
Ugh. Bitches are nasty. N A S T Y. I washed my hands rrreeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaalllly slow too so that she had no choice but to face my Wicked self.
The end.
What is your MOST forbidden fantasy?
Do you like to cuddle after sex?
Would you rather have sex with a regular sized guy and a small dick or a midget with a big one?
Tags: ass whoopin, bed, folgers, mommy, Parenting, punishment, sleep
The Many Faces of Xavier
Sep 5, 2009 All Things X, Family, Parenting, Wicked MOMMY Wisdoms, love
Happy Sunday and Labor Day Weekend, friends!
This special weekend edition blog comes to you on the day of my little man’s birth. He turns the big fat 9 years old today.
NINE. Hey-Zeus Creest I feel old.
From conception, this one has been easy-peasy-chicken-greezy. He has always just kinda went with the flow. I would say that he is just like his dad in that sense, and his sister like me with her intensity and diva-like ways. Fitting… right?
Xavier is my little big man. He grew up with me growing up. He watched his dad and all of his uncles go through growing pains themselves … alone and with one another. He has a knack of knowing when to hug his mom just when I need an X hug the most. He manned up when D and I separated, bouncing from my house to D’s … putting up with both of our shit and games and (bigsigh) bullshit when he had no business being a part of it. Nor did he deserve it. But he did it. He smiled big and to be honest, if it weren’t for him and his happiness, D and I would probably not have made it through the rockiest time of our lives.
I love him differently than I do anyone else in this world. I am harder on him than I probably should be. I give him shit as often as possible. I yell too much and hug too little. I expect him to be everything I never was, and forget sometimes to remind him that no matter who he is, I still love him to the ends of the Earth. I think that because we all kind of grew up together … he, D, and me … I just expect him to get it and am reminded often that, just because I grew up … he is still a kid. A good kid. A loving, bright, funny kid with the biggest heart and the most handsome smile.
When I was putting together the slideshow of him growing up, I realized that he has always been the goofy-face-maker. As you can see, he has some sort of face made in all of these pics. I love that about him. (well, except for when I am paying someone to take our pics and he is fucking off with some goofy faces.) I love that he is a comedian … most of the time. I love how smart he is all of the time and smart-assy he is some of the time. He is outgoing. He is confident. He loves clothes and shoes and he is convinced he will be the next Michael Jordan or the next Tony Hawk. Or both. He is sweet. He can write a better rap verse than most grown ass men in the hip hop industry. He gets music and LOVES music. He cares about peoples feelings. He is sensitive and thoughtful. Most importantly, he is the best big brother in the history of big brothers. I couldn’t ask for a better helper.
So this year is the last year of single digits. Next year he will be freaking 10 and I will die of a heart attack thinking about how I birthed a freaking 10 year old. All I see now is his years of puberty ahead of me.
Dear God, What did I get myself into?!?!?!
Enjoy the slides … and of course leave him birthday wishes. He will love to read a blog dedicated to him with his vain behind.
Tags: big brother, birthday, dad, happy birthday, labor day, michael jordan, mommy, nine years old, Parenting, tony hawk, xavier
Born to Inspire
Aug 4, 2009 All Things Charli, Creative Writing/Poetry, Family, Parenting, Random, Ranteriffic, Relationships, This Thing Called Marriage., Wicked & D Quotables, Wicked MOMMY Wisdoms, bitch
Happy Hump Day!
DC Princess AKA Q AKA Numbah 1 AKA Sistah from anotha mistah has a pretty kick ass contest/giveaway going on over on her blog. All you have to do is click the link, read, and finish the sentence: Born to ______. She will take care of the rest. (You should follow her on Networked Blogs too. Just saying)
The title to today’s blog is what my answer was. Reading a lot of the other answers, I felt kinda cheated. I think that Q is seeking thoughtful answers. Answers that come from the persons heart. To speak to who they are individually. If I was her, I would be.
My answer is true to me. I enjoy motivating other people to do good. Be it good for themselves, or good for others.
The other day I was talking to a co-worker about my progress with South Beach. She has been looking to make a change, but wasnt sure how or if it would work for her and in her lifestyle. The thing that she worried about, I worried about: How will my family work around my dieting. When we talked about how D and the kids simply add a starch to the same meal I enjoy… and I have extra veggies, I think she was sold. I linked her… and off she went.
Another friend mentioned that my (yes I know FINALLY) publishing Submissive Confessions *cough*haveyouboughtyoursyet*cough* inspired her thinking. She might pull some of her work together and also self-publish. This makes me super duper happy.
And then, I think I helped another friend figure out what she wanted to do for her blog layout. She was experience creative blockage. That sucks more than anything… to want so badly to be creative, but be completely stuck in a rut.
Not that I am blowing smoke up my own ass or anything, which I often do I know… but it just feels really good to help people feel good about themselves. In whatever way I can. Inspiration = happiness. At least for me anyway.
In other news, Charli is the biggest brat on the planet. I am not sure if I have ever seen such a bratty display of the terrible 2’s ever. I desperately need to get her into a playgroup. She needs to learn to share. She beats and bosses the hell out of her brother, and I am not sure that it is a healthy learning progression for her. She knows that she can tell him what to do and get her way. In another environment, I think that it will be a different dynamic.
On a good note, she pooped on the potty the other day. We cheered, did the “Charli pooped on the potty dance and high 5″ and went about our business.
From then on though, she hasn’t. Whenever I ask… no matter if she has to/has gone/needs to go… the answer is always “NO” when I ask about the poop. She will tell D and X the truth, right in front of my face. But when I ask, in the same moment of a “YES” to her daddy… I get a “NO MOMMY!”
WTF?!
Speaking of business, the naked cunt-whore coffee stand that I putmyfootdownbutDstillgoestoseeanyway so the foot down was not effective at all… has a new slut. Today, she was wearing skull and crossbones pasties. Even the most avid pirate lovers should see the tacky in this display.
D: “Mia–”
Me: “does she really need to have a name? Cant you just use dumbnakedcoffeewhore? A name associated makes me want to punch you in your junk”
D: “Sorry. dumbnakedcoffeewhore was wearing skull and crossbones pasties.”
Me: “Defamation of pirate character. Did you say “Arrrrrrrgh” to her?”
D: “uhh no. But she totally put my change in her thong and stuck her ass out the window so I could … uhm … retrieve it.”
Me: Blink Blink.
D: (cracking up.)
Me: “ARE YOU KIDDING ME!?”
D: (dying)
Me: “Guess who is going to be a good wife and get you coffee tomorrow?”
D: “You are so cute when you are protective.”
Me: “If by protective you mean punch her in her ass when she hands me my change back normally tomorrow.”
D: “what?.”
Me: “I better get my change returned to me in the exact same way as you did.”
D: “What do you mean?”
Me: “The change receipt procedure should be the exact same for all customers.”
D: “She isnt gonna do it.”
Me: “I know she isnt. Wait til you see the look on her face when I ask her why you received it out of her ass crack, and I am stuck with hand to hand contact.”
D: “You wont.”
Me: “Bet.”
To be continued…
Finish the sentence! “Born to ______” (tell me AND Q)
Also…….. What was your favorite saturday morning cartoon growing up?
Tags: barista, born to smile, coffee, gap jeans, inspiration, kid, mommy, potty training, terrible 2
I Can Always Depend on My Momma.
Jul 14, 2009 Family
I wrote about my dad a couple of weeks ago. Funny story, I didn’t think to mention it to him. Not because I was hiding it or whatever … but because I just didn’t think that it really mattered to him that much. This could put our relationship in a nutshell. We both spend a great deal of our relationship fighting the fact that we adore one another. I don’t know why. We just do.
I also didn’t post a pic of him in my last blog. I bet he would shit a big fat brick if he knew I was about to post one right now. Heh.
Nah. I won’t piss him off like that. 10 years ago… maybe.
Anyway, with a dad blog comes a mom one too. I have thought a lot about what I might write about my mom. As I have gotten older, I find more similarities with her than my dad. I remember always hearing “you are just like your dad” when I was growing up. I am, but there are a great deal of things that are my mom.
1) The look. When we were growing up and we were fucking up, all my mom had to do was look at us and we knew we better shut the fuck up or it was on.
2) Road rage. Not so much anymore (for her) but I remember several times when my mom would practically fly through the window at someone.
Like this one time when we were on our way to school and this dumb bitch in a mini-van cut my mom off. There my mom was, screaming at this broad, tailgating her until we both stopped in front of “The Crash” (the smoking spot at my school) and proceeded to rush the drivers side, open the door and all you could see was my mom from the shoulders down. Her head and neck were inside the car, telling her alllllllllllllllllll about herself. Then she got in the car, smiled and asked me not to tell my father about the incident.
If I wasn’t sooooooooo stoned… I would have been mortified. Instead I was laughing my ass off.
Pretty sure I told him.
3) Sappy-ness. My mom is a crier. I am a crier. And it is worse now that I am older.
4) Lack of a filter. I think this comes from both of my parents… but specifically my mom. She will tell a bitch to fuck herself with a smile on her face.
My mom and I are friends. But she is my mom. It isn’t the mom-daughter friendship where the line of respect fades with time. I know my role. Dont get me wrong, I push buttons. I always have and I always will. But, I respect my mom for the fact that she brought me into this world. (she may say she can ‘take me out’ but she is a damn lie) I love that she always tells me the truth. I respect that when she has advice, it not only comes from the heart… it comes from experience. I love that I can trust my mom, and that I have built this trust with her that she trusts me back. It wasn’t always that way, and I would say that the worst feeling in the world was to have my mom tell me that she didn’t believe me.
I reach to her when I need to cry.
She knows that I am a good mom, and offers advice when she thinks that I need it. NOT to simply hear herself speak.
My mom respects my choices as a parent.
I know that she would defend me if she truly believed that I was innocent, and she would still love me if she knew that I wasn’t.
My mom eats her steak well done. Like, beef jerky well done. And she smothers that shit in ketchup.
She used to eat her food on a lazy susan. none of it could mix or touch.
My mom used to model.
She falls asleep when she watches movies. 98% of the time.
She has a weird infatuation with Rod Stewart.
She L O V E S her grandkids. Like groovy kind of love styles. And her son in law.
She always calls me Charlie Brown. <-- no clue why.
My favorite memory with my mom was when she met me in San Diego and rode the carrier back up to Seattle. She roughed it (with a lot of anti-nausea medicine) just like we did, flirted with the Chiefs in the galley… and wooed them with her famous potato salad. For the next year after she rode the ship, my Chiefs bugged me about my mom, trying to get her secret recipe to either have me make the potato salad or so they could have their wives do it . (They also dug her tits I am sure). I couldn’t believe that she came and spent that time with me. Not because she was a non-engaged mom or anything, but because 1) she hates flying 2) she gets motion sickness and 3) her and my dad rarely spend more than 24 hours apart.
That is the other thing about my mom … my parents … they are the most devoted people to each other. I haven’t met another couple who truly love the way they do. They compliment each other. There weren’t always rainbows and butterflies either. They have fought to have the deep connection that they do today. That depth that people fall asleep and dream about. The same depth that I fight for on a daily basis with D.
My dad had what my parents are. My mom did not. She grew up in a broken home with several step fathers. Her example of what a healthy relationship should look like was like night and day to what my father had with my Nana and Papa. My dad really committed to what he knew was what marriage was, and held my mom accountable for it, every step of the way. She is such a strong woman, and I think that she owes a lot of that strength to my dad. Not because he controlled her or whatever… but because he didn’t give her the opportunity to walk away.
I respect their marriage a great deal because of that fact.
My mom is one of my hero’s. She is a wonderful, feisty, honest woman and if I can be half as wonderful as she is… I would be content with it. I don’t know what I would do without her.
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Oh. And. Heh. Yeah. I still love to irk his ASS at every opportunity.
Anything about my mom you would like to know more about?
Do you have a special mommy memory? (doesn’t have to be about your real mom… sudo moms are perfectly acceptable)
What flavor of ice cream would you be?
Joy of Mommyhood #6412346:
May 17, 2009 All Things Charli, All Things X, Family, I WIN!, Parenting, Wicked MOMMY Wisdoms
Just when I think that being a mom couldn’t be anymore rewarding.
Friday night, D found some dress that was given to us by one of his old co-workers a long time ago… when I was still pregnant with Charli.
It is the ugliest dress known to man.
So I convince Xavier to put it on.
Me: “Put it on. I bet it fits you!”
X: “Fine. I will put it on. But you cant post it on Myspace.”
Me: (this is too easy) “Ok. Deal. I wont post it on Myspace.”
X: (looking skeptical) “Or that one bookface thingy.”
Me: “Facebook?”
X: “Yes!”
Me: (fake sighing) “Fine. No Facebook either.”
So he puts the dress on. I come with the camera and … as I get ready to snap the picture …
X: “Oh! One more thing!”
Me: “What?”
X: “No blogging!”
Me: (fuckshithell) “What?! No! The original deal was no FB or Myspace!”
*Snap*
This is the genuine expression of someone who has just been duped. *grin*
Ugly Dress: $0
Digital Camera: $150
Laptop: Company Loaner
Seeing the look on Xavier’s face when I told him I was posting this on the internet: Priceless
Don’t think for one second that this picture is not going in the archives to put on display for every single potential girlfriend he brings home to mama.
I am the devil… and I am loving every second of it.
Did your parent humiliate you with pictures of you in compromising situations?
Do you have pics like this of your kids?
If you were a sandwich, what kind would you be?
Haaaaaaaaaappy Monday!
Winning is Everything
Mar 29, 2009 Completely Hypothetical and Generally Specific, Family, Friendship, Relationships, Wicked Wisdoms
I will preface this blog with the fact that, when dealing with difficult people who live to make your life a living hell… conscious or not… the end result is always to win. If that means I smile while cussing you out behind gritted teeth… Me being able to say “I Win!” is the only reason as to why I would.
I win. <– my mantra. My reason for doing more than half of the shit that I do not want to do.
Anyfuckingway.
I *gasp* have another completely hypothetical and generally specific friend to blog about today.
I know, I know. You were totally thrown off by this. Heh.
Anyway, this friend is not one of the 2 twitter-heads. Twitter-Dee and Twitter-Deny. We will call her Renee. She is a totally different friend with a completely and totally unrelated scenario that needs to be discussed.
She. Has. In-Laws. *insert blood-curdling scream here*
I swear to god. I have heard some stories in my day about the hell that has been created due to in-law drama. But my totally hypothetical friend’s situation is … unbearable.
It takes the cake on a daily… sometimes hourly basis.
The sad part about this generally specific situation is that for the longest time, she really tried to do right. It was all about perfection. Scheduling. Holidays. Family events to the point of nausiation. Seemingly enough, none of it was really ever good enough in any of her husbands families eyes.
The shittiest part about it is that it isn’t just her husbands parents. It is the siblings and the siblings significant others as well. No matter what she does, or what she says… there is an issue. A wrong found. A head shaken in her general direction.
I personally struggle with Renee’s daily situation. For those of you who know me, I live in a world of “Like it or fuck yourself.” My parents and in-laws have learned that I am pretty much going to say and be who I am going to be. I don’t give a flying fuck if it is acceptable. I am grown. I don’t live to anyone elses standards.
Period.
The reason I struggle is because her situation is not applicable to me. So, when we talk, hypothetically of course, it is a struggle to remain unruffled. I know that she, as much as she would like for it to be, doesn’t have the same set of in-laws that I do. Honestly, if I shared the same crazies that she did, I would have written them the fuck off a long time ago.
Where am I going with this? Glad you asked.
Renee is consistently forced into making the decision in whether or not to be the bigger person. It seems as if, though, no matter what she does… the fault falls back on to her shoulders. The heads still shake in her general direction. Noses are turned up and whispers behind backs.
For example, her sister-in-law may or may not have done something totally unspeakable to her for no reason. She may or may not have, without any regard for her totally hypothetical niece and nephew, lied to a government agency about the terms of her job, said some awful lies and almost caused her to not get her unemployment benefits.
Riiiiiight.
My completely hypothetical friend had to make the decision on whether or not to be the bigger person. Why? Because she may or may not have known about dirty little sister-in-law secrets.Things that may or may not totally fuck her over. Things that the S I L probably forgot she allowed out into shared air with my friend.
However, she needed to win. Spreading gossip usually doesn’t guarantee a win. Begrudgingly, and with many swear words, she chose to be the bigger person.
A round of applause is in order, because frankly, I don’t know if I could have been the bigger person. You fuck with my kids livelihood…. we got a problem. Mommy gangsta comes out in full affect.
So recently, for the hubs b-day, Renee coordinated a grown n sexy outing. Like it or not, she had to invite the totally hypothetical siblings. An idea was tossed out about ‘accidentally mistyping’ the email address. Whoops!
Genius, right? (Don’t even start with the notion that it was my idea.)
So it was tossed back and forth. I may or may not have encouraged it, but bottom line was that if she left the S I L out, she would never ever hear the end of it.
The bigger person emails the right one, and prays of a conflicting in schedules.
The beeyotch plain doesnt fucking invite her. And smiles about it.
She again chose the adult route. And she prayed to the heavens that the bitch had previously scheduled cunt work to do. (I may or may not have prayed too. Not gonna lie.) Of course she showed. And my hypothetical friend smiled appropriately. But I knew what the truth was. It was written in her eyes like the stars in the sky. (and she sent me a text about it. HAHA)
I am proud of her patience and awesome ability to juggle personalities. I say personalities only because the real Renee is the person that I see… and she screams at her when dealing with such events of chaotic drama to lash out and tell a bitch clean about herself… but the other Renee… the bigger one if you will, restrains her inner gangster.
I have learned from her daily in-law drama that you really have to be grateful for the things you have in your life. Because some people, like my hypothetical friend Renee, don’t have the same blessings that you do.
I bet if you asked her how she does it so flawlessly (and I wont put effortless here because a bitch knows for a fact how much effort is exuded), Renee would tell you that she hasnt a motherfucking clue.
Wicked Wisdom of the Day: At the end of the day, no matter what the cliche saying is used to describe how you did it… (i.e. killing them with kindness) being able to say “I WIN!” is worth every ounce of effort spent doing it.
Advice for Renee? (Keep in mind that this is 5+ years of dealings)
Do you have an in-law horror story to share? (This includes the siblings)
Tags: adult, bigger person, choices, decisions, drama, Family, Friendship, gossip, husband, in laws, love, marriage, mommy, morals, take the cake, win
The Bank of Payback
Mar 22, 2009 All Things Charli, All Things X, Family, Parenting, Ranteriffic, Wicked MOMMY Wisdoms
When Xavier gets to the point to where he is talking on the phone… I am going to interrupt his conversations at every opportunity. For absolutely no reason what-so-ever.Especially when he is on an important call. To tell him things like how next year I am going to try to remember to cleanse my colon as often as possible. Just to be safe. I am gonna tap into the call and remind him that I need to make an appointment to get a Brazilian wax. Heh.
Payback’s a bitch. And so am I.
When Charli grows up, I am going to march around her room on the weekends at the ass crack of dawn, banging pots and pans around while I sing made-up songs about how I didn’t get to sleep in on the weekends when she was a baby just long enough to make her really really mad at me. Just long enough to where she cannot fall back asleep. Just long enough to leave the mark.
D and I were talking about the other things that we could do to get her cute little brown butt back. He was dancin’ around the kitchen while free-styling ‘betcha aint sleepin now’ lyrics.
I want to wake her ass up at 3 AM when she is like… 15 and make her do push-ups. Only 25, but push-ups nonetheless.
I think that it would be really funny to fall out in a tantrum in front of her friends. Or in public. Or anywhere other than the privacy of our own home that would simply mortify her… Just randomly spazz out in a scream-fest for no reason. Or, no reason to her… but a serious reason to me.
I would also like to keep embarrassing photos of her. Both of my kids actually. Blown up. Framed. And when they have friends over, replace the normal pictures on the walls with the ones of them in mortify poses with hilarious outfits or facial expressions.
Oooh. Or even, when she is at that age where she hates me soooooooooo much… and wants me to be as far away from her as humanly possible…. insist on sitting RIGHT next to her. Touching her arm, or my leg to her leg. Poking her eyes, and shoving my fingers in her mouth… preferrably in front of her friends.
Now I know what my mom was talking about when she said that I was gonna have one just like me. Only, this time… I am not going to forget the times that all I wanted to do was sleep a couple of extra hours, or just have a little bit of personal space. Just a little. I love my kids, but for fucks sake, I do not like to have them both sitting practically on top of me at every opportunity.
Payback’s a bitch. And so am I.
The Bank of Payback is collecting a shit ton of interest as we speak. I have a seperate account there for payback on actual adults that deserve a little bit of it too. But that is for an entirely different blog.
And, as I end this ha-ha funny blog, Charli sits at her door… knocking and yelling because her stubborn ass doesnt feel like it is her bedtime. The fun never stops in the Wicked household. It never stops.
Do you have an account at TBoPB?
Anything you would ‘like’ to withdraw from the bank and use on them?
Get some.
Tags: account, bank, bitch, drill seargent, mommy, Parenting, payback, payback's a bitch, tantrum, teenager, wish, withdrawl
Saying Good-Bye to the ‘B’…
Mar 11, 2009 All Things Charli, Family, Parenting, Wicked MOMMY Wisdoms
God I am a sucka.
On Monday we were forced into binkie weaning. I have been fighting this happening. I have been because Charli is my baby. She loves her binkie like some people like nicotine. Or chocolate. It has been her source of comfort for going on 2 years. I had this all planned out too. Since she absolutely MUST say “Buh-Bye” to everything… (i.e. “buh-bye bubbles!” “buh-bye frush!(toothbrush)”) I thought it would be appropriate for her to tell her ‘B’ buh-bye too! No. So when I frantically called D to bring home a new B… he refused. REFUSED!
His response?”Hell no. I have been trying to take that god damn binkie away from her for months!”
My response? Nothing. What can I say? He is right. Fucker.
Is it wrong that I am going through the grieving process with her? Last night, when I was sitting by her bed comforting her while she cried, my heart broke for her. I feel guilty for just taking it away like that, so abruptly. She was not mad about it. She was sad. She had real tears… like her little heart was breaking over it. Re-reading that statement, it sounds so stupid. Whatever. It is how I feel. When I was rubbing her back, trying to help her get to sleep without it, I flashed forward to when she is 15-16 and she goes through her first real heartbreak.
Will she look for me to comfort her?
Will she wake up when I try to sneak away, offended that I am not still there, next to her bed… ?
Will she allow me in, to seek not only comfort, but support and strength?
God I hope so. It would kill me if she shut me out. Years and years from now, just like I have been for the last 2 nights, I will always be there to wipe her little tears away when she needs me to. 19 months, 9 years old… even 29 years old.
In all of this I realized that, as small of a growth as it is, it is a step toward her growing up from a baby into a little person. I know she doesn’t need it. I know she can live with out it. I just hope that her next steps in growing from toddler to tween… tween to teen… that she readily accepts my comfort.
Because, no matter what… I will always always always be there to give it to her.
Do you remember your first big breakup?
Did you shut your mommy out, or let her in?
Any words of wisdom? I feel like a total retard for being so affected by what has turned out to be an event.
Tags: binkie, broken heart, Charli, mommy, Parenting, toddler, weaning
Lost In MommyHood
Jan 4, 2009 Family, Parenting, Relationships, Thoughts and Perceptions
Does it happen? Losing yourself in your most important role ever? Absolutely.
When I first had X and stayed at home, I lost myself. I became angry and resentful of anyone and everyone who had more of a life than I did. Especially other moms who had regained their independence. It made me sad that I had lost my sense of independence and self confidence that was a huge part of my existence prior to conception.
It probably took me 2-3 years before I figured it out. It also took a defining point in my marriage before D realized how important it was for me to regain my independence and feeling of self worth again.
Many times we as mommies forget the fact that we are neglecting the simplest of needs because when the switch is flipped on… there is no turning it off again. (Don’t believe me? Ask anyone who knows me. I worry about many of my single friends as if they were my own kids. I cant help it. It just is what it is.) As I was saying, it is like something within us turns off when the internal mommy switch is turned on. I don’t think that the switch is a bad thing, it is just that it is hard to find the balance between our beautiful 2nd (sometimes 3rd) jobs as moms and our original awesome, independent selves.
Sometimes we just need to shut it off.
If you are in a committed relationship with someone, this is a huge part of staying healthy with one another. They need to know when you need to go. Even if ‘go’ means in the bathroom with a good book and a hot bath for 45 minutes, or if it means hopping in the car and finding a consignment store to blow $20. Whatever it is that mommy needs to do to regain her sense of self… is what mommy does.
A ‘woo-saw’ moment, if you will.
This requires the right amount of communication and middle ground possible with your partner. If they are unable to figure it out, and give you what it is that you need… especially if you are offering to give them the time that they need… (and probably already get, given the fact that they are men and do not have the same kind of switch mommies have.) If they are not able to give you that… there are deeper issues than this that need to be resolved.
If you are a single mommy… or if you feel as if you might as well be one… (which unfortunately is more often than not…) I suggest adjusting your mommy time to when your kids pass out or before they open their eyes and start their days. Plan for 30 minutes where you are not packing lunches or paying bills. Where you aren’t worrying about getting Brat 1 to soccer in time to drop Brat 2 at piano lessons. Set an alarm to remind yourself that this is “Anne” time. Not mommy time. Or, try to find another mommy in your similar predicament to swap duties with. Even if it is meeting the other mommy somewhere near the nail salon, and taking turns getting pedis while the other takes the kids to the park.
Here are some suggestions for regaining some of that individual energy:
Yoga/Meditation
Go for a walk.
Read.
Pick up an old hobby, or find a new one.
Take a class.
Take a long hot bath.
Join the gym
Pedis/Manis (if you are cash strapped, they sell fairly cheap pedi kits that are reusable.)
Call and catch up with friends.
See a movie.
Take a nap.
Go for a drive.
Have lunch with yourself or friends.
Masturbate.
GIRLS NIGHT!
The bottom line is that this time is uninterrupted time. Unless the house is burning to the ground or a child is on their way to the ER… they can be without you for a couple of hours.You need to train them to accept it. Mold their little brains (partner’s included) to just roll with the punches. Life goes on when you are not present and at the beck and call of those who think that they need you.
My last piece of mommy advice is that this needs to be consistant. You need to not wait until mommy melt-down to escape. Preventing the melt-down is key. The entire household dynamic will drastically improve. Sex life, mood, sleep, all of it will improve.
Even if you arent a mommy:
Have you ever felt lost from yourself?
What do you do to deflate and regain YOU again when you feel lost?
Tags: children, communication, hobby, indepenance, mommy, Parenting, role
My Sugar-Plums, or Theirs?
Dec 15, 2008 Parenting, Thoughts and Perceptions
Today, as I was buying pretty lingerie for the first time in 7 years I realized that Christmas is like a week and a half away. Yikes. I haven’t purchased a single present.
I will get back to the lingerie comment in a sec. I promise. Gawd.
Anyway.
We have been decorating and talking endlessly about Christmas… what to get the kids… budgeting… blah.
This year, X brought me his letter to Santa. He prided himself on the fact that he didn’t ask for too much this year. When we looked at the list, there were no toys! No freaking toys! What 8 year old leaves toys off of his Christmas list?!?
I am bent over this. B.E.N.T.
D finally got it out of me why I was so stressed out about his gifts. He asked for clothes and shoes. Nothing else! I want to see him open Leggos and G.I Joes, God damnit!The sappy mommy in me is crying out for her baby boy to stay a baby! But he is growing. So fast. Too fast. Too fast for me anyway.
Charli is an easy buy this year. She has discovered the love of all things crayola. So she will get an easel and an aquadoodle. And some blocks. Maybe a collector Barbie. Done. Soon though, she will have her own personalized letter to Santa, filled with all of her sugar plum wishes.
Of course I will pick out a couple of cute outfits for them and such, but really… I can go and buy them an outfit every payday if I wanted to. Those presents are fillers. The ones that count are the big gifts. The ones that make their eyes sparkle and do backflips around the living room.
Barbie’s DreamHouse and Easy Bake Oven’s.
Power Wheels and Hot Wheel Race Tracks.
That Red Ryder BB Gun!!!!!
Are toys becoming obsolete? Are our kids being brainwashed with portable video game consoles and DVD’s? What about board games? Puzzles? BOOKS!? I dont want to not get my kids what they ask for, but isnt it my duty as a parent to keep them grounded? To remind them that, as amazing as technology is… that there is more to life than the Nintendo DS?
It sucks being a parent sometimes. In no way am I out of touch with my kids’ and their growing generation, but sometimes I feel old fashioned. Like my expectations for what they should want totally overshadows the reality.
It is hard to find that balance. To not fully disappoint them, but not give them everything that they want either.
Thanks for listening.
What was the most memorable gift you ever recieved as a kid?
What was the one thing you asked for, and didnt get?
What is your Christmas shopping status to date? Done? Not even close?
Where do you stand on the shoulds and should nots when it comes to giving kids what they are asking for? How do you, or someone you know find that balance???
Oh. To hear more about the lingerie, I suppose you should read my blog tomorrow. *evil laugh* 
Tags: barbie, christmas shopping, easy bake oven, hot wheels, Leggos, letter, mommy, power wheels, presents, red ryder BB gun, santa, sugar-plum, toys
