Sunday, January 29, 2012

The usual Sunday fare.



Sunday Stealing: The 99'er Meme: Part 1

Cheers to all of us thieves!

1) Put your iTunes on shuffle. Give me the first 6 songs that pop up.
OK, I did, and I refuse to admit to you how awful my taste in music is (New Kids on the Block came up, ok?)

2) If you could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be?
Yvonne at Attracted to Shiny Things

3) Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 23, give me line 17.
"Ugly - overweight with bad skin and an" (fill in the rest)

4) What do you think about most?
gay porn?

5) What does your latest text message from someone else say?
I don't know, but it isn't as entertaining as this one:


6) Do you sleep with or without clothes on?
I sleep in a rubber suit.

7) What's your strangest talent?
I can nap like no ones business.

8) Women.... (finish the sentence); Men.... (finish the sentence)
Women will read this whole thing...Men don't usually read my blog.

9) Ever had a poem or song written about you?
yes and gross.

10) When is the last time you played the air guitar?
I only play air harpsichord.

This is just how I roll...

11) Do you have any strange phobias?
I am afraid that my mother was right.

12) Ever stuck a foreign object up your nose?
My nose?  No.

No, it's not mine.  But WTF???
13) What's your religion?
I believe that Elvis is really Jesus and Michael Jackson is still alive.  Amen.

14) If you are outside, what are you most likely doing?
Trying frantically to get back inside.

15) Do you prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it?
Now that I am not young and hot I try to avoid cameras all together.

16) Simple but extremely complex. Favorite band?
EASY - These guys:



17) What was the last lie you told?
That I liked the band pictured above.

18) Do you believe in karma?
I believe in cause and effect.  Same thing.

19) What does your URL mean?
It means I started this blog because motherhood sucks.

20) What is your greatest weakness; your greatest strength?
Weakness:  my sexy knees.  Strength:  My ability to not give a shit.

 

21) Who is your celebrity crush?

Carl Sagan - Hey, I like 'em smart.
22) Have you ever gone skinny dipping?
Yes in the bathtub.

23) How do you vent your anger?
By taking Xanax and going to bed. Or this:

 
24) Do you have a collection of anything?
I collect things to be angry about so I can take Xanax and go to bed.

25) Do you prefer talking on the phone or video chatting online?
I prefer being left alone


 

Saturday, January 28, 2012

Ok. Seriously Now.

I am terrified of something. It haunts me as I lay next to Lila during story time at night. It creeps up on me when she wakes up in the morning and wants to sit on my lap on the couch. It eats at me a song I like comes on the radio and she declares, "I LOVE THIS SONG"!!!

I am afraid that this is the most I will ever like my kid.

We're not talking about "LOVING" because I am pretty sure I would (actually do) subject myself to all manner of torture to ensure that she doesn't suffer. But LOVE is not the same as LIKE.

My profile pic says it all.


As many of you know, I started this blog because motherhood is sometimes hard and sometimes boring and sometimes frustrating and sometimes just sucks. I also had pretty severe post-partum depression and spent the first several months of Lila's life not "liking" her very much. She screamed 16 hours a day for 6 months and slept in 20 minute spurts and that meant that I slept in 10 minute spurts because it took me at least 10 minutes to fall asleep. Needless to say, I was pretty sure that my child was sent specifically to punish me for whatever the hell I did in my past life.

If I invented shit like this, I probably deserve it.


The other problem is that over the last 4 years, I have struggled with major depressive disorder and that pretty much makes you not like anyone or anything. I spent a lot of time just trying to stay sane, and having a toddler around (and then a preschooler) generally accomplished exactly the opposite of that. Although I absolutely adored her and knew that she was the most wonderful child anyone has ever had (and I'm not saying that because I am her mother, I am saying it because she totally is) and I wanted to enjoy spending time with her, kids are kind of a huge pain in the ass.

As you can see, age 3 was worse than age 2.


And then last summer, something happened. It all started with my nervous breakdown and a brief trip to a "recovery resort" (read: mental hospital). When I came home, I was still weak but something had clicked while I was away. I felt different. Suddenly I felt like I was really a mother. Perhaps it was just some delayed reaction or maybe it was the drugs they had me on, but I like to think it was because Lila had turned 4, and suddenly she was learning all these cool things and not throwing so many tantrums and actually learning that it isn't okay to scream in the house.

This feeling has been a constant since then. Lila is a really good kid. She is smart and funny and loving and well behaved (when she isn't at Grandma's). I find myself excited to spend the day alone with her where before the idea of it terrified me (seriously, I would have panic attacks). I love doing bedtime with her because she talks about the things she loves and always includes me. She likes whatever I like, wants to do whatever I do, and I know everything about her.

And that's when the fear kicks in. What happens when she goes to school all day? She will learn about things that I can't control. She'll make new friends and those friends will begin to teach her things that I don't want her to know and she'll start realizing that the things that I like are actually really awful and lame and she'll tell me so. What if I just don't like the person she becomes?

What if she thinks this ass basket is cool?

YES, YES, I know this is probably not going to happen like that. That I am ignoring all the incredible things that she will be doing and that in all likelihood, I will grow to enjoy her even more. But this isn't about being rational. This is about realizing that I lost time during my darkest periods and fearing that this happiness will be fleeting (by the way, I totally got all teary-eyed typing that last sentence and that is why I am would rather just complain all the time).

This is when I need to be assured that it isn't just my medication (because I don't trust that at all) and that at some point I will realize that it isn't just a fluke (at least until she hits the awful teen years).

Sunday, January 22, 2012

Plenty of liquor and a bathroom fetish.

This is part 3 of a 3-part Meme.  The first 2 parts were okay, but this last one is a little...ummm.....depressing.

Sunday Stealing: The Never Ending Meme, Ends

Cheers to all of us thieves!

36. Have you watched American Horror Story?
I don't need to.  I lived through the terrible twos...and threes, and one and a halfs.  Oh did I mention my kid didn't stop crying for the first 6 months of her life?

Lila - 6 days old.

37. Baseball hat or toque?
Fuck off.

38. Do you shampoo or soap up first in the shower?
Usually I just stand there and savor the fact that I am in the bathroom and alone.

39. Wet the toothbrush or brush dry with the toothpaste?
Can we get out of the bathroom now?

Seriously.  Get me the fuck out of this bathroom now!
40. Pen or pencil?
I enjoy using pens, but I think pencils are better for jamming into my eyes when Lila insists on watching Aladdin for the 4700th time.

41. Have you ever gambled at a casino?
I am the unluckiest person alive.  Seriously.  I've gone, I've tried.  It has never ended well.

42. Have you thrown up on a plane?
um...surprisingly, no.

43. Have you thrown up in a car?
No. but I have cleaned a kid's puke from all over a car.  Three different times.

44. Have you thrown up at work?
NO!  Does this asshole have a throw up fetish?

45. Do you scream on roller coasters?
I do not believe in roller coasters.

Yeah, this looks like a TON of fun.
And I chose it because of all the throw up questins.

46. How many shoes do you have?
7.  7 individual shoes.

47. Who was your first roommate?
Well, technically that would be my parents.  But after that, Ben and his crackhead friend Rick.

48. What alcoholic beverage did you drink when you got drunk for the first time?
Zima?  Cysco? MD 20/20?  Boon's Farm?  I have no idea but it was the early 90's so it was definitely one of those.

As 'Lil Jon would say:
YEEE-AAY-AH
The best part is that for some reason, I searched
Google and found this on Runnersworld.com (?)
49. What was your first job?
Chasing boys

50. What was your first car?
1989 Dodge Omni.  It had no heat and didn't have an oil change in the entire 3 years I owned it, but that bitch always started. 

51. When did you go to your first funeral?
Wow.  This sure is an uncomfortable mix of questions.  I was 7.

Well, if there's going to be kids there...

52. How old were you when you first moved away from your hometown?
I got paroled at 24.  5 years later I was back.

53. Who was your first grade teacher?
Mrs Cleary.  She had a cleft palate and was 107 years old.

54. Where did you go on your first airplane ride?
New York City.  On a tiny 12 seat commuter plane.  Terrifying.

55. When you snuck out of your house for the first time, who was it with?
Me and my friend (who we called Pippi) snuck out to hang out with these 2 boys, one of which died in a car accident like 6 months later.

This is my friend Christina, aka Pippi

56. Who was your first best friend and are you still friends with them?
First?  Jessica.  And isn't everyone still friends with everyone they ever knew on the Facebook?

57. Where did you live the first time you moved out of your parents’ house?
Danforth Street.  Or as we liked to call it - The Cathouse.

58. Who is the first person you call when you have a bad day?
No one.  I go hide on the interwebs and pretend I am someone else.

59. Whose wedding were you in the first time you were a bridesmaid or a groomsmen?
I am going to be in my first one next month.  Awful.

Here we are trying our dresses on.
60. What is the first thing you do in the morning?
Take my happy pills and get some coffee.

61. What was the first concert you attended?
I used to go to punk rock and hardcore shows when I was like 12.  I have no idea who was first but probably some lame local band.

62. First tattoo or piercing?
No and no...you would think that with all the cheap liquor and punk shows...

63. First celebrity crush?
I was obsessed with Prince when I was like 5.  What girl wouldn't love a 3 foot tall mixed-race elf who wears high heels?

What little girl doesn't dream of this?

 One last thing.  In searching for random pics on the google (God, I hope SOPA and PIPA don't pass) I found this:

Can someone please tell me what the hell is
wrong with the Japanese? 

Saturday, January 21, 2012

New Addition to my Shit List.

I am sure this is going to make me seem bigoted and narrow-minded, but for some reason this really infuriated me when I read it.

Listen, I am all for gender equality and all that shit, but this couple should probably have been sterilized before they had the chance to ruin this kid's life. 

Couple Finally Reveals Child's Gender, Five Years After Birth
It's a boy! And he's five. Beck Laxton, 46, and partner Kieran Cooper, 44, have spent half the decade concealing the gender of their son, Sasha.
"I wanted to avoid all that stereotyping," Laxton said in an interview with the Cambridge News. "Stereotypes seem fundamentally stupid. Why would you want to slot people into boxes?"
Laxton, a UK-based web editor, and her partner, Cooper, decided to keep Sasha's sex a secret when he was still in the womb. The birth announcement stated the name of the gender-neutral name of their child, but skipped the big reveal. Up until recently, the couple only told a few close friends and family members that Sasha was a boy and managed to keep the rest of the world in the dark. But now that he's starting school the secret's out."
(courtesy Yahoo! News)

Sasha better get used to that attitude...


There are about a thousand things wrong with this but I will start with some of the most obvious:

First I want to answer this asshole's question about why you would want to assign someone a gender or ("slot people into boxes").  Here it is:  Because I am pretty sure that throughout the history of the earth, this system has seemed to work pretty well for nature FOR MILLIONS OF YEARS.  There are boy bees and girl bees, and they have different tendencies.  There are even male and female parts on plants.  Who the fuck are you to thwart your little experiment in defying nature on some innocent kid who just wants to be a kid? 

Do I understand that the way we act and the things we do in life are sometimes dictated by our genders?  Yes.  Do I know that some people feel that they are not made to be the gender their sexy parts tell them to be?  Yes, and I have seen that first hand.  Do I agree that the male and female roles are something that is entirely based on a man-made construct? Well, mostly.

You see, although I know that much of gender is psychological, I also realize that men and women are physically different.  Not just because of their puzzle pieces but also because of hormones, brain construct, muscle and fat distribution and a myriad of other traits that have been more or less consistent throughout the history of the species.  It is true that there are many exceptions to this and it is true (to a point) that we are all individuals and genetically have an endless array of variations.  But I can acknowledge that perhaps the roles reflect the inherent strengths and weakness of each sex.  No matter how bad Ben wants it, he will never carry a baby (and have all the hormonal and emotional havoc associated with it) and no matter how hard I try, I will never thoughtlessly leave my socks in random places because that's where I needed to take them off at that moment.

Hey, it makes him feel beautiful, okay?

But to me, it seems there is something more questionable about this.  These parents are not celebrities.  Beck is a web editor and apparently Kiernan is a stay at home parent who likes to think of fun ways to force children into a lifetime of therapy.  That being said, who the hell is this "rest of the world" that they care enough to "conceal" his gender from?  Sasha?  The mailman?  The pedophile down the street?  It stands to reason that perhaps they were just looking for their 15 minutes (5 years) of fame because who the fuck cares about your kid and what genitals it has?  We aren't talking about simply giving a kid all the gender-neutral options here.  We are talking about purposely refusing to tell anyone (I am assuming the kid as well, because 3 year olds CANNOT keep a secret) because they have some bizarre fetish with androgeny.
But there's more to this story:

For years, Becks has been referring to her child, the youngest of three, as "the infant" on her personal blog. But guarding the public from her son's gender was only part of her quest to let her kid just be a kid.

Sasha dresses in clothes he likes -- be it a hand-me-downs from his sister or his brother. The big no-no's are hyper-masculine outfits like skull-print shirts. In one photo, sent to friends and family, Sasha's dressed in a shiny pink girl's swimsuit. "Children like sparkly things," says Beck. "And if someone thought Sasha was a girl because he was wearing a pink swimming costume, then what effect would that have? "
Ooooooh I can't WAIT to go and link over to her blog! I bet it is filled with all kinds of fun stories about the dog really wanting to play with catnip and the cat trying to fly like a bird.

Sasha can only dress in clothes he likes if those clothes are either gender-neutral or super girly.  No cargo pants (even though they make them for women) and no skulls or "masculine" things?  But sparkly skirts?  YES!  WONDERFUL!  That seems a little shady to me.  As if they are trying to force the issue that he select opposite-gender things.  What if he really LOVED skulls and lightening bolts and monsters?  I bet that would be a HUGE dissappointment to these dicks.

A big ass is not the kind of "cargo" these
pants are made for.

But there is something else. There are more kids in the house...who know what parts they have. So although little Sasha probably is too little to be aware of what ass hats his parents are, the older children have been in school and have likely been sworn to secrecy by their parents and been harrassed and teased for the he/she brother/sister they have. And kids LOVE having to lie and keep secrets from their friends. Nothing could be more fun for a kid than to have a dark secret to keep.

Sasha's also not short on dolls, though Barbie is also off limits. "She's banned because she's horrible," Laxton says in Cambridge interview.

On a macro level she hopes her son sets an example for other parents and makes them reconsider buying their sons trucks or forcing their daughters into tights. She's seen how those consumer trappings affect how and who kids play with in the sandbox.

Ohhhhhh. BARBIE is horrible. She may have porno boobs and weird feet, but at least she isn't running a social experiment on her kids.



And I believe that her dreams of setting an example is lost on me. I am pretty sure that you can just tell people "she is a girl" but still allow her to dress and play however the hell she wants.   Or you could just do what other parents do and name your kid something totally unisex like Pat or Terry or Beck or Kiernan.  

My point is that there are plenty of ways to encourage a kid to like and do non-gender specific things without sending him/her out into the world totally unprepared for the very realistic and extremely likely possibility that he WILL be put into a hundred different categories throughout his life and people WILL have different expectations of him based on those things.  Boo hoo hoo.  That's the way it is.

But the sandbox is just a precursor to the classroom. When Sasha turned five and headed to school, Laxton was forced to make her son's sex public. That meant Sasha would have to get used to being a boy in the eyes of his peers. Still, his mom is intervening. While the school requires different uniforms for boys and girls, Sasha wears a girl's blouse with his pants. (emphasis mine)


Oh Jesus Christ.  I am going to go see if anyone has set up a place to send donations for this kid's lifetime of therapy costs.

Read the full article here:

http://shine.yahoo.com/parenting/couple-finally-reveals-childs-gender-five-years-birth-180300388.html

Thursday, January 19, 2012

Needs Work.

Ben is a General Contractor.

I know what you're thinking:  Well, that sure does explain his shitty attitude and unreliability.  But actually, he really is one of the only honest contractors I have ever met. In fact, he has a problem because he is too nice and generous and has a habit of doing extra work for no charge and because of that we are always broke.

But I don't want to talk about his (lack of) business sense.  I want to tell you about my house.

Whenever Ben finishes a big job like a kitchen remodel or building a new porch, he likes to take pictures so that he can use them in a portfolio to show potential clients.  These projects are always flawless, and clean and beautiful. 

Like this.  Although this is not actually one of his..
This is a random internet pic.
We bought an abandoned house last year really cheap.  Because Ben is a contractor, he did all the work on it to make it livable.  In fact, since our lease was running out and our landlord REFUSED to give us another month, he did all the work on the house in about 5 weeks.  He worked morning until night, 7 days a week and when we moved in, the house was ALMOST done.  There were just a bunch of little things that needed to be finished up.  Things like moulding along the floor, touch-up paint, doors needing door knobs - things like that.  And because he had essentially BUILT a house from rubble, I ignored it and figured it would get done.

The thing is, none of that shit is done, 15 months later.  Do you know why?  Because for some infuriating reason, whenever Ben does work around OUR house, he leaves it half done. 

OK.  At least I DO have countertops...But still.
Three months ago, he put a transition piece along the border between the bathroom tile floor and the slightly lower hardwood floor of the hallway.  It took him about 20 minutes to measure, cut and position the piece.  He set it there....and left it.  Now every time I walk out of the bathroom, I kick the thing and it goes flying out into the hallway.  He never bothered to nail it down.  I asked him how much time it takes to nail a piece of wood in place and he told me, "About 30 seconds...a minute if you do it right".  I told him I was getting the hammer and he assured me that he would take care of it because "you don't want the nail to stick up at all."  THIS WAS THREE MONTHS AGO!!!!!

We have a couple of spots on the drywall that were damaged somehow and are going to need touch-up paint.  Last JULY I asked him to get the paint out (because his work area is a labirynth of crap that only he has the magic map to) and I would paint it.  He told me he would take care of it.  Later that day, he applied that plaster crap to it to patch it.  He let it dry and sanded it down.  I had a pile of white dust on the floor for 4 days before I finally gave in and swept it up.  The white patch is still there.  He told me it still needs another layer...WHAT THE FUCK!!!!

I have attempted to explain to him that it offends me that when he does jobs at other people's houses he actually finishes up, then cleans and leaves the place looking like something from an HGTV room makeover show, but our house looks like someone randomly pieced it together and then forgot about it.

Another (visual) example:

We have plans to get siding in the spring.  The house is an ugly green and looks as if it hasn't been painted in at least 20 years.  Also, we kind of have to because the house is drafty and cold even with new windows and weatherproofing.  There are gaps in the old wood slats and that makes the walls super cold and covering it will make it better (or at least I am told).  While I was out the other day, Ben decided that he was going to fill in some of the worst gaps with "a little caulk".  This is what the side of our house looks like now:

Yes,I ran outside in the cold to take this picture just now.
  And we live on a corner.  This side faces the street.

SERIOUSLY, BEN?  REALLY???

"Would you EVER do that to someone else's house?"  He shrugged.

"Then WHY THE HELL WOULD YOU DO IT TO OUR HOUSE?  Don't you care AT ALL what this house looks like?" 

"Not really."  He admitted.  "It's going to get sided and then it will look really nice.  EVENTUALLY it will look good." 

Did I mention that the house was SUPPOSED to be sided and have a new roof put on over the past summer but (and I am quoting here) Ben "just didn't get around to it."  Now, maybe it's just me but I would think that a job as large as siding a house is something you PLAN, in advance.  And maybe schedule.  With some help.  (Now that I am typing this, I am concerned that my house will he half sided for the next 10 years.)

That's awesome.  Because I love having a hillbilly shack to be proud of.  Don't even get me started about the shit he keeps in our yard.

We're just one boat and a missing roof tile away from this...
And it isn't that I don't try to help or do the work myself.  He won't let me.  He says I don't know what I am doing.  Because CLEARLY, it takes a professional to stick a door knob on.

Am I over-reacting?  What do you think?

Sunday, January 15, 2012

Two parts Sunday Stealing, one part Other Shit.

First, let me say that I love my blog time.  For me it is unwind time, and when I have had a rough day, sometimes it's just what I need.

About 2 hours ago, I was upstairs putting away laundry and Ben was vacuuming.  Suddenly I hear this awful "frhhoooonnnnk" sound followed immediately by a crash and Ben yelling OH NO!  Lila starts screaming and I sprint downstairs to find Ben holding her and Lila holding her head.  It seems that Lila was looking for something under the couch AT THE SAME TIME that Ben was vacuuming under the couch (!!!!???!!!!).  Her hair got caught in the vacuum (as any sane and remotely sensible parent would assume would happen if a girls head gets close to the vacuum cleaner)and she was completely traumatized (as would be expected from a 4 year old that pretty much hates the vacuum because it attempted to eat her head).   Needless to say, I didn't have to demand that he apologize for that one.  Why is safety never a consideration for some fathers?

Ours is not nearly as friendly as the Noo Noo.

Aaaanywhooo....Everyone is alright but there was a HUGE chunk of hair pulled out and it was all tangled into her hair and she screamed while I tried to untangle it because she was afraid she was going to be bald. 

Subsequently, the meatloaf Ben was cooking spilled in the oven and the smoke detectors went off for like 15 minutes (because there's literally one in every single room of our small (small) house, they're all wired to go off at the same time, and they're electrical and you can't just pull a battery out of one and be done with it).  Lila screamed all through that as well.  And since it's like 4 degrees outside, we couldn't just step out on the porch to avoid it all. 

And before you all point out the obvious, yes, I realize that he vacuumed AND cooked on the same day.  But seriously?  You let your kid and the vacuum get that close?  Jesus.

FUN FUN!!

Moving on...I skipped last week's Sunday Stealing and since this was a two parter, you get double the fun.  Plus I know you just LOOOOVE hearing my stupid answers. 
Sunday Stealing: The Never Ending Meme, Part One

Cheers to all of us thieves!

1. Song that always makes you sad?
Anything by Justin Bieber.  It isn't sadness, exactly...more of a murderous rage that makes me feel like I need to kill small animals...

2. Last thing you bought?
Prescription sedatives.  Ahhhh....sweet relief.

3. Last person you argued with?
There are only 2 possibilities.  Ben or Lila.  And Lila had a rough day.  So you do the math.

4. Do you put butter before putting the peanut butter on?
WHAT???  I am not into food mixing like that.  Everyone knows that there is only one thing you are allowed to spread on bread with peanut butter.  Chocolate sauce.

5. One of your stuffed animals’ names as a kid?
Like I remember that shit.  (actually I had a monkey that my mom tells me was called Mahnu, because I couldn't say monkey.  And that I used to refer to any older man with a beard as Mahnu too.) 

6. Did you ever at one time own a Barenaked Ladies CD?
Do I look like an asshole?  Actually they are from these parts and I think it's hilarious that they have a children's cd out. 

7. Favorite day of the week?
Tuesday.  I have the day off work, and Lila goes to the sitter.

8. Favorite sundae topping?
Peanut Butter and Hot Fudge.  Together. 

9. Did you take piano lessons?
I wanted to but since my mother was insane, that never happened.  Instead I learned to play terrible 80s ballads on my Casio keyboard.
Go on, act like you didn't have one...

10. Most frequent song played?
Since I am not going to go look at itunes to figure this out, I will take a wild guess and say "Rump Shaker" by Wrecks N Effect (ahhhhh Snap!)

11. T.V. show you secretly enjoy?
Secretly?  Dr Phil.  His guests make me feel well adjusted.

12. Would you rather play basketball or hockey?
I would rather slit my wrists.

13. Date someone older or younger?
At this point, if I could score a 24 year old, that would be awesome.

14. One place you could travel right now?
To the bathroom.

15. Do you use umbrellas?
Sure.  I also use toilet paper.  I am not sure get why this is a question.

16. Do you know all the words to the Canadian national anthem?
OH CANADA! OH CANADA!  Blah blah blah blah something or other....

17. Favorite cheese?
Any kind that won't make me feel like I have an alien growing in my bowels.

18. The Smith’s or The Cure?
Neither.  That was my generation's version of Emo.

19. Do you prefer blondes or brunettes?
I prefer well hung.


20. Best job you ever had?
Working at the used bookstore.  Until I realized that my boss was extremely unstable and weird.

Sunday Stealing: The Never Ending Meme, Part Two

Cheers to all of us thieves!

21. Did you go to your high school prom?
No.  I barely showed up at school.

22. Perfect time to wake up?
4pm.

23. Perfect time to go to bed?
4 pm.

24. Do you use your queen right away in chess?
I only use my queen to get into the gay bar.

25. Ever been in a car accident?
Yes.  Totally not my fault.  He should have seen that I wasn't paying the least bit of attention.

26. Closer to mom or dad…or neither?
Used to be my dad.  But then he turned into a miserable old man so now it's my mom.

27. What age is this exciting life over for you?
22 (I'm 34).

28. What decade during the 20th century would you have chosen to be a teenager?
1975-1985.  If I was of the age of sexual consent during the hair metal days, I would have been the trashiest, most aggressive groupie the world has ever seen.

I totally don't understand why the girly look was sexy back then
but for some reason, it totally was.

29. Favorite shoes you have EVER owned?
When I was a kid I had these awful white shoes that had a row of safety pins side by side.  My mother hated them which meant I thought they were fucking incredible.

30. Do you have an article of clothing you have had since you were in high school?
I burned pretty much any mementos from high school on purpose.

31. Were you in track and field?
Hahahahahahahahahaha!  I only run if I am being chased.  And that doesn't ever happen anymore.

32. Were you ever in a school talent show?
If being slutty was considered a talent, then yes.

33. Have you ever written in a library book?
BLASPHEMY!!!!

34. Allergic to?
Motherhood, manual labor, heartfelt sentimental-type conversation, emotional intimacy, and cockroaches (the last one is true.  I was actually allergy tested as a kid and that is the only one I really remember).

35. Favorite fruit?
Gay Shawn...Oh and this banana:


HOLY SHIT!!! I forgot to add the link to where I stole it from!  You totally cannot trust a thief!

Tuesday, January 10, 2012

Sorry is (apparently) the Hardest Word to Say

Ben is really bad at apologizing.  It isn't that he is a bad person. He tries really hard to do the right thing and I don't know that he has EVER intentionally hurt anyone.  I don't even think he has it in him.  But he just doesn't think he is ever wrong (or at least he can't admit when he is).  It doesn't matter how glaringly obvious the emotional injury is or how many times I try to explain it, he just doesn't get that even though it wouldn't bother him, it really bothers me.  So when he just gives in and apologizes just to shut me up (usually while rolling his eyes and saying "there, you happy now?'), we all know that it was only issued out of annoyance and/or pity.


Imagine the example this sets for a 4 year old.

A couple of days ago, Lila was climbing on/beating up Ben on the couch (as usual) and he moved the wrong way and accidentally pulled her hair (or hit her with an elbow, or something).  She started crying and was very upset because she thought he had done it on purpose. 

As mothers, we all know that there is no use in trying to explain to a 4 year old that it was not done on purpose and that there is no reason to be upset unless you really want to drag the tears out for 45 minutes.  It's best just to say sorry and give a kiss to make it better and move on with your day.

It isn't a game.
Daddy doesn't see it this way.  He simply told her to stop.  That she wasn't really hurt.  You can imagine how this went over.  Naturally, she cried even harder.

"Say you're sorry, Daddy."  I told him.  "That's what you do when you hurt someone."

You might want to sit down when I tell you his response.

"I didn't hurt her.  She did it herself.  What should I apologize for?"

Go ahead.  Let that sink in for a minute.

You should note that THESE boys are about
8 years old.

Obviously shocked that he would even need to be told to apologize, let alone debate the issue with me, I went on.  "Ben, she needs to know that when you hurt someone, the right thing to do is apologize.  You don't claim you didn't do it.  You don't tell them to get over it.  YOU SAY YOU'RE SORRY.  BECAUSE THAT'S WHAT PEOPLE DO WHEN THEY HURT SOMEONE WHETHER THEY MEAN IT OR NOT...."

"Yeah, but I didn't do anything.  She did it."  I suddenly realized that I am teaching morality to not one, but TWO children.

"Ben," I said. "When she accidentally knocks someone over in school even if they bump into HER, should she turn to them and say 'I didn't do anything.  I don't know what to tell you,' or should she instinctively say, 'Sorry, let me help you up?'"

Eyes rolling, and with a dramatic sigh that I mostly recognize from my 4 year old drama queen, he belts out, "FINE!  Sorry."

This is what he was really saying.
Lila continued to cry.

"She isn't even REALLY crying!" REALLY BEN???  This is what you are going with?  "She is only making a big deal of this because YOU are."

"Um...No.  If you had just apologized and rubbed her head where it hurt this would have been over, but since you are acting like a bratty child, she still feels bad because you clearly don't care that you hurt her."

"I DIDN'T HURT HER!!!!" He is still sticking to his story.  "Plus, I just said I was sorry and she's still crying."

What the hell kind of person did I get involved with?  Am I going to find the bodies of mutilated squirrels in the basement?  What kind of animal doesn't just try to make their 4 year old feel better?

This song is stuck in my head now.
Then I realized that this wasn't about him and her.  It was about me and him.

"Ben, you need to realize that you are showing her how to treat people.  If you don't want her to be a total asshole when she gets older, you need to do a better job of not showing her what an asshole acts like."

At this I went over to Lila and tried to change the subject.

He walked out of the room pissed off. 

We haven't talked about it since.

Saturday, January 7, 2012

Not a resolution...Just total bullshit.



I started drinking coffee when I was about 4 years old.  Not regularly of course, but my Grandmother used to see nothing wrong with handing me a lukewarm cup loaded with sugar and milk as a treat.  She was also always yelling at me to "knock it off" and "quiet down" and "sit the fuck down you goddamned lunatic."  For some reason she was always worn out when I left and constantly threatened my parents that she would not babysit me anymore because I was too wild (?).



Coffee is my one vice.  I don't really drink.  I can't handle drugs (pot turns me paranoid).  I don't have the money or the credit to shop.  So I drink like 6 cups of coffee a day.  I love it.  I love trying new flavors and roasts.  I buy the good stuff because I am going to spend all day with it so it should be awesome. 

I am pretty sure it is.

Then about a month ago, I started noticing something strange.  I was getting nauseous around 4:00 every day.  I was having heartburn for several days in a row.  I talked to my mother about it and she said something that shook me to my core.  "It's the coffee."

"HA!" I said.  No way.  Coffee is my friend.  We're close.  Coffee would never hurt me.  But deep down inside, I knew it was true.  I was going to have to dramatically cut down on my coffee consumption. 



I stocked up on a few different kinds of tea (TEA!  An abomination). I knew that when you are used to having that much caffeine it isn't smart to just stop.  The plan was simple.  I would have ONE cup of coffee in the morning, then I would switch to tea for the rest of the day.

I need to have this right now.


I have been doing this for about 10 days (why wait until the new year.  It's a necessity, not a resolution) and I have noticed a difference where I am feeling less pukey throughout the day.  But here's the thing.  Now I am waking up with heartburn.  And although it is uncomfortable, I am not ready to walk away from my coffee completely.  I take a few Tums and knock one back.  Usually that does the trick.



Getting old is total bullshit.


Sunday, January 1, 2012

2011 Wrap Up.

Sunday Stealing: The 2011 Year End Meme


Thanks to the Mayans, assholes everywhere will be
looking forward to this...


1. What did you do in 2011 that you’d never done before?
Had a nervous breakdown (Who am I kidding?  It wasn't the first, just the worst).

2. Did you keep your new year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
I don't make resolutions.  The day after Christmas after a spectacularly bad pig-out and subsequent stomach ache, I decided to cut dairy out for a while to see how I feel.  I didn't wait until the 1st.  I just fucking did it.  And I am going with it for now.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
Um no.  Lila's too young and Ben can't actually do that.

4. Did anyone close to you die?
AAAAHHHHHHH NOOOOOOOO!

5. What countries did you visit?
CrazyLand and Psychozykstan

6. What would you like to have in 2012 that you lacked in 2011?
Money, patience, a sex drive and superpowers.  Is that asking so much?

7. What dates from 2011 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
October 25th.  Just picked that one.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
Having over 200 followers on Facebook.  If you aim low, you won't be disappointed. 

I hope to have this option on the Because Motherhood Sucks
Facebook page soon.

9. What was your biggest failure?
I am pretty much in the same place I was last year at this time.  That sucks.

10. What was the best thing you bought?
HANDS DOWN, my Kindle Fire.  I LOVE it.

11. Whose behavior merited celebration?
Listen, I didn't strangle anyone or abuse anyone or drop anyone (you know who you are) off at the orphanage.  I deserve SOME kind of acknowledgement for that.

12. Whose behavior made you appalled and disgusted?
Mine?  Lilas at times.  Bens.  Also Congress, Bank CEOs, and as always, the cast of Jersey Shore.

LOOK, Italy!  It's a DOUCHE PARADE!!!

13. What song will always remind you of 2011?
That god-damned "Moves Like Jagger" abomination.  DAMMIT!  Just thinking of it got it stuck in my head for the next 12 hours.

14. What do you wish you’d done more of?
Sex.  Getting blackout drunk.  Destroying my enemies.  Blogging. 

15. What do you wish you’d done less of?
Yelling at my kid.  My throat was sore a lot.  But seriously, she practically begs me to do it.  Not literally, of course.  But by being a dick half of the time.

16. Did you fall in love in 2011?
Yes, with my happy pills.


17. What was your favorite new TV program?
Well, I decided to watch Fringe from the beginning this year.  HOLY SHIT why didn't anyone tell me it was so f**king awesome?  So although it's old, it's new to me. 

18. What was the best book you read?
The Illumination by Kevin Brockmeier.  I was hoping it would be Escape from Intimacy, but I realized a few chapters in that it WAS NOT a "how-to".



9. What one thing would have made your year measurably more satisfying?
See # 14.  That and a lobotomy.

20. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2011?
Frumpy.  And old lady-ish.  I am working on that though.

21. What kept you sane?
Hahahahahaha.  Nothing.  That's why I was in the nut house.

22. Who did you miss?
A certain ex boyfriend who I always miss.  Sorry but it's true.

23. Who was the best new person you met?
There's this hot new security guard at work.  He's my pretend work husband.

24. Tell us a valuable lesson you learned in 2011?
If you start to believe you are going crazy, check yourself into the psych ward.  It will give you perspective.  Also, there's nothing pharmaceuticals can't fix.

25. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year.

"Nobody told me there'd be days like these
Nobody told me there'd be days like these
Nobody told me there'd be days like these
Strange days indeed
most peculiar Mama."