uncensored

Sh*t My Mom Says

Most Some of the time I’m pretty good decent-ish at censoring myself in front of my children. Try as I may, there’s the occasional time or five I slip up when I enter Adultland and speak to another human being over the age of 9:

“Did you hear about that man who had his penis bitten by a snake that came over the toilet?”

Thank God I don’t have boys or I could have been dealing with some major bathroom phobias. Lucky for me it merely triggered a conversation about penile reconstructive surgery, which led to a conversation about transgender folks, which led to a conversation about sexual orientation, which led to a conversation about acceptance and non-judgement.

“I only needed 3 stitches!”

When it comes to childbirth my kids are pretty educated. They know proper anatomical terms, the stages of labor, and that most women poop while birthing. When my 3 year old heard me say I had stiches, but couldn’t see any marks on my body I knew I had some ‘splaining to do. The look on her face when I explained perineum tearing made me realize that if I ever want grandchildren I should probably keep some parts of childbirth unspoken.

“She looked like a hooker…”

KIDS: “What does a hooker look like?”

ME: “Well….Ummmm…I dunno…lots of make up, tight shirts, short skirts. They usually look really done up.”

KIDS (looking at me up and down): “You DEFINITELY don’t look like a hooker then…

“We should do ___________”

Any verbal outpouring of thought is considered to be gospel by these people. Before I’ve explained that it was a mere thought they’re upstairs packing their bags for the weekend getaway that “Mom said we were going on”.  Unfortunately, this only applies to kid-approved activities; We should clean your room” is not picked up by their radar.

“Mommy has her period.”

Ok. This is less of a thing I’ve said in front of my kids, but rather TO my kids. They’re learning that “Mommy has her period” actually means: “STAY OUT OF MY WAY AND DON’T ASK ME TO SHARE MY CHOCOLATE.”.

They’re slowing getting it…

 

To avoid misinterpretation I always make sure to clarify what I’ve said so their active imaginations don’t go too wild. I also explain to them that they are never to repeat anything Mommy says outside of the house…it’s better for everyone  that way.

 

sisterhood, motherhood

Motherhood NEEDS sisterhood. Here’s how we make that happen…

Mothering is a tough bitch.

Some of us are having a hard time.  Some of us feel like we’re going to lose our minds on a daily hourly basis. Some of us try so damn hard day in and day out, yet still feel endless guilt about the way we dealt with our 2-year-old’s tantrum over not being able to eat all the cookies in the box (calling her an asshole behind her back wasn’t the best strategy but it sure made us feel good). Some of us have a hard time trying to maintain composure when we’re at our wits end. Some of us have a hard time keeping up with basic hygiene, let alone get ourselves looking put together every day. Some of us are doing the best job that we can do.

Some of you don’t seem to have this problem. Some of you seem to know exactly how to handle every situation. Some of your children never seem to misbehave. Some of you can seem to manage your children while keeping a perfect house. Some of you never seem to have any challenges. Some of you never seem to make mistakes. Some of you seem to be 100% perfect.

Some of you don’t seem to know how to keep opinions about some of our parenting to yourselves…

Guess what?

Some of US don’t want to hear it.

Mothering is exhausting. We are tirelessly trying to find out what works best for our children and our family. No matter what we decide to do, it’s wrong according to someone, and it’s extremely challenging to come to any sort of conclusion. That’s why, when we do finally reach a decision, it’s SO ANNOYING to receive unsolicited advice from some of you.

It’s not hard to get out of the “Some Of You” club. All you have to do is follow this one simple rule: Keep It To Yourself (K.I.T.Y). Seriously, unless you’re asked for your opinion it’s probably not necessary to give it. Unless you’re commending us on our attempts to be good parents or expressing solidarity during these tricky times…SOME OF US DON’T WANT TO HEAR IT.

Children are a powerful force. We will never be able to conserve enough energy to properly raise them to the best of our abilities if we are wasting our time and strength working against one another. If we help boost each other’s confidence rather than deflate it we WILL help give each other the tools to create a more productive generation. We have a choice. Do we choose to show empathy with a smile to another Mom who just yelled at her her screaming toddler because it’s probably her fifth fight of the morning and they’re both exhausted? Do we show nurturing by offering a seat to a Mom who needs to give their baby a bottle because it’s none of our business how anyone chooses to feed their child?  Or are we judgemental with dirty looks and off-hand remarks towards the Mom who is on her phone while her kids play at the park regardless of what she’s looking at?

We can choose to be divided or we can choose to be unified.

We should be in this together. We HAVE to be in this together. Motherhood needs Sisterhood.

It won’t take much to keep the peace. Simply relax, have a glass of wine (because you deserve it, Mama) and  if you don’t have anything nice to say: K.I.T.Y.

 

shield-1020318_1920

New Job Posting: Full-time MOM! Suckers, I mean, applicants apply within.

 

It generally doesn’t take much to become a parent.

There’s no formal education necessary, no required skills, and no application process.

Imagine, though, if there was. Here’s what the top applicant would look like:

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Name: Mama, Mommy, Ma, Hey You, MOOOOOOOM…just not ma’am. Never call me ma’am (it makes me feel old).

Age: 29….forever.

Address: No idea. I’ve never seen outside the laundry room.

 

Credentials:

-PhD in Reverse Psychology

-Bathroom Kit First Aid certified

 

Relevant Work Experience:

-Poop Scooper at the zoo

-Negotiator in hospital Psychiatric Ward

-Custodian at LegoLand

-Chef at “Nobody’s Gonna Eat This Anyway” restaurant

-Chauffeur for drunken fraternity

 

Relevant Skills and Strengths:

-Strong ability to dismiss irritating, repetitive noise

-Hold daytime liquor well (I almost never slur)

-Comprehensive knowledge of suitable profanity for any given situation

-Zero modesty; I can pee in front of an audience

 

Availability:

24/7/365. I also function on limited sleep, can eat standing up, and hold my urine for hours (unless I sneeze), so few breaks are necessary.

 

Desired Pay:

Loving hugs and kisses are all I need.

Just kidding.

I’ll accept wine.

 

Personal References:

Ahriya: CEO of Energysucker inc.

Talia: President of the Association of Tiny Dictators

Kaia: Facilitator of Attituders Annonymous

Nevaeh: Professor of Moody Preteens 101 at Mom’s-In-For-It University

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Oh snap. I think this bitch is hired!!

parenting-artcles-youll-want-to-read

Parenting articles you’ll WANT to read!

We’ve all encountered parenting articles.

They’re on social media, on the news, in magazines and the newspaper:

“THIS IS THE ONLY WAY TO PARENT” articles, written by Dr. Iknoweverythingaboutkidsbutdontactuallyhaveany.

They are filled with “current and updated” information that contradicts everything you currently do as a parent and make you feel like the shittiest parent on earth.

I used to read these parenting articles until one day I clicked on a link to the “50 things NEVER to say to your child”.  By the time I reached #38 I realized I had said every single one of those things at some point or another. I then proceeded to spend the next 2 weeks feeling guilty over the inevitable irreversible damage that I’d done to my children’s psyches.

I now avoid these articles like they’re alcohol-free playdates. Instead, I focus on my attention looking for articles that I would WANT to read, such as:

“TOP 10 WAYS TO DISCREETLY DAY DRINK”

From stainless “coffee mugs” to a flask in your nursing bra that you’ve been wearing since you stopped breastfeeding 4 years ago. As long as you can maintain a consistent, healthy buzz and not slur your profanities no one will ever think booze is your preferred method of keeping your shit together.

“STEPS TO GET YOUR KIDS TO HAPPILY EAT A HEALTHY MEAL”

Forgetting threatening and fighting with them. All you need to do is bribe them with bacon and a little candy!

“SANCTIMOMMY AWARENESS”

Sure fire ways to spot these bitches before they make it within a 1 kilometer radius of you and your little angels. You know, the ones you’re currently screaming at while feeding them fast food and non-organic powdered sugar donuts while they sit in front of the t.v. watching “Orange is the New Black” for the sixth hour in a row.

“WHICH WINE SHOULD YOU CHOOSE TONIGHT?”

Life’s full of tough decisions. This handy quiz will help with those extra challenging choices.

”BEST HIDING SPOTS IN THE HOUSE FOR YOUR CHOCOLATE STASH”

A list of Mom-approved spots that your little mooches wouldn’t even think to look, like the cleaning supply drawer or anywhere near the washing machine. *Bonus–these spots are also husband proof!

“HOW TO KINDLY RESPOND TO COMMENTS ON YOUR HOUSEKEEPING”

Telling Judgy McJudgy Face to “fuck off” while slapping a nice big smile on your face is no longer your only option!

“SEX AFTER KIDS: CLEAN THE HOUSE, PACK LUNCHES, SHOWER, CHECK YOUR E-MAILS, FEED THE DOG, LOCK THE DOOR AND THEN FOLLOW THESE TIPS FOR A WILDLY QUIET, POSSIBLY INTERRUPTED SHAG”

Rekindling a faded sex life has never been easier than now! Following these simple tips could lead to THREE sexy encounters, which is double what you got last month!

 

Parenting articles like these are hard to find. Please join me at the park so we can scour the internet for them on our phones and ignore our children while they play.

 

 

fourth and final pregnancy

The part of me that died when my fourth baby was born

I was 19 when I got “knocked up” with our first daughter.

I barely knew how to take care of myself, let alone support the life of another being.

When she was born, a part of me ceased to exist any longer.  I was no longer just “Me”. Freedom in it’s entirety would cease to exist for me.  I was no longer my number one priority. My goals and aspirations no longer involved only what I wanted for myself; they now considered what was right for this tiny being. I was a mother; and while my former self had come to be no more a new definition of who I was developed.

When our second and third daughters were born I didn’t experience the monumental shift in identity that I did with my first. I had already made the transition into motherhood and still felt the desire to continue having children. However, the pregnancy and birth of our fourth daughter extinguished a part of me that I had never considered before.  My childbearing journey had drawn a close when my youngest entered the world. I had made this realization during the time she grew inside of me but the finale surfaced mixed emotions within me. I am capable of bearing more children but  have chosen to not regard it as an option any longer. I have chosen to enter a new phase in my life; a phase that will allow the “Me” part of myself to gradually integrate back into my life. A phase that will allow me to merge my independence and what I want out of life with what is right for my family.  A phase that will allow me to take the experiences that I’ve gained through my journey of pregnancy, childbirth, infancy, and toddlerhood-the experiences that have allowed me to grow into the person that I am today- and apply those invaluable lessons to the rest of my life as a Mother, and as a professional.

I know there will be days where I will mourn the death of my childbearing years. These are the days I will celebrate my four beautiful daughters and I will remind myself that I am content.

My years of growing life inside my body have drawn to a close.

They will forever be gone…but will never be forgotten.

 

A Good Enough Mom

We all have our aspirations. At one point in time I wanted to be in an executive position in a huge corporation, wearing fancy suits, drive a fancy car, and have people reporting to me.

That changed when I got pregnant with my first daughter.  My fancy suit turned into sweat pants, my fancy car turned into a minivan, and I was the one reporting to a tiny boss.

Just like that my goals changed. I no longer wanted a prestigious job and nice things. I just wanted to be a good mom.

When I got pregnant with my third daughter my goals changed once again. I was exhausted by trying so hard to be a good mom: homemade everything, countless arts and crafts, endless educational activities, ongoing kids music, daily trips to the park, and the forever feeling that what I was doing just wasn’t good enough.

That’s when I realized; instead of being a “good” mom I needed to strive to be a “good enough” mom.

“Good enough” moms are capable of doing everything that a “good” mom does. However, “good enough” moms are content knowing that if only the basics were provided for that day (food, exercise, love), that’s enough.  Anything offered beyond that is a bonus, but is not expected. There are no glorious goals to strive to meet and no looming feelings of failure when they aren’t accomplished. Satisfaction is accomplished daily when expectations are realistically achievable.

Being a “good enough” mom allows me to make it through to the end of those days that I just can’t wait to be over. Being a “good enough” mom gives my children the chance to learn to entertain themselves and gain understanding on how to be capable and independent. Being a “good enough” mom gives me peace of mind that my children get what they need and I still get to maintain my sanity.

I have days where I’m a “good” mom and days when I’m even a “great” mom (that means a trip to the park without yelling or having repetitive profanities circulating in my brain), but life is happiest when I’m a “good enough” mom.

My children may not always have a “great” mom or even a “good” mom, but they do have a “good enough” mom that they’re happy to call “Mom”.