Hot Flashes of Inspiration

The SuperGal Has Moved!!

noreply@blogger.com (Emma Jayne) — Sun, 21 Nov 2010 14:41:00 +0000

Please visit my new page

The SuperGal's 2010 Top Gift List

noreply@blogger.com (Emma Jayne) — Thu, 18 Nov 2010 19:26:00 +0000

The Backtackular is a Gluteal Cleft Shield for those who wear super low rise jeans.

It has rhinestones to match any outfit.

In other words, it's a sparkly ass patch. I'm not sure this will go over well because it may interfere with the ever-popular and classy Tramp Stamp.

Poo-Pourri says "Spritz the Bowl Before You Go & No One Will Ever Know"

Unless, of course, you eat at Taco Bell. You have to check out the girl sitting on the toilet tank on their home page. She is so happy that no one knows she just took a dump. I would buy a case of this for my husband but he is very proud of his excretions and even announces them in cute sayings like "I going to take the Browns to the Super Bowl" or "I'm dropping the kids off at the pool".

The Wine Rack Bra trumps the water bra by allowing you to conceal 750 ml of your favorite boozy beverage while increasing your cup size up to a DD. The disadvantage is, of course,
the drunker you get the smaller your boobs appear.
That's a trade off I can live with!

Fat Mama's Knock You Naked Margarite Mix

Fat Mama's Tamales in Natchez, MS makes this mix and it is world famous. I want one of the T-shirts, too.

I am pretty sure no one is gonna mess with me with that shirt on! I mean, I've never been knocked naked but it's got to be an experience you'd never forget.

The Bullshit Button

Yes, I know...this is really silly but I like it and I think I would use it daily!

The Dora The Explorer AquaPet

What? This is a kid's toy? Ooohhhh...then never mind.

Happy Holiday Shopping, SuperPals!

Hey! You! Get Outta My Nest!

noreply@blogger.com (Emma Jayne) — Wed, 17 Nov 2010 13:56:00 +0000

(Title to be sung to "Hey! You! Get Off Of My Cloud" by the Rolling Stones. Sorry Mick...)

I am baffled by my strong reaction to children lately. I have been a mom now for over 18 years so I am well aware of the stages of child development and the typical behaviors which accompany these transitions.

But recently I have started to feel like this....

I have become so intolerant of children in all their snot-nosed, attention-grabbing, money-sucking glory and am bewildered when I catch myself beaming invisible stun-gun shocks to screaming babies in the grocery store. Toy ads make me want to vomit at the thought of sacrificing the purchase of cute shoes and vodka for a piece of plastic the little shits won't play with for more than an hour. I see mothers ogling $200 frilly dresses for their little girls and I think "The ingrate will spill grape juice on that frock within 5 minutes. Goodwill has perfectly good disposable clothing and you can spend the money doing something with your hair". When making plans to go out for dinner, I make sure I choose a place no parent in their right mind would ever consider taking a child. Pay $24 for a house salad? Fine with me if that means I can eat it in peace and not have to be exposed to the "short people" and their lungs of disturbia.

When did this happen and why? In my youth, I was the best babysitter in the neighborhood and even had a waiting list of parents desperate to escape their little darlings. As an adult, I was the nursery director at my church and also ran an in-home daycare so I could afford to be a stay-at-home mom. I threw my kids expensive birthday parties, carted their asses to every sport or activity in which they wanted to participate, survived sleepovers with other parent's spawns from hell, took thousands of photos of my kids' every precious move, and generally loved being a mom. Even when they both started school, I made sure my employment did not keep me from being in the carpool lane at exactly three o'clock to whisk them home from their long day of incarceration. Their needs dictated every aspect of my life and I was happy as a clam to devote myself to them.

The change started when my daughter got her driver's license. She no longer needed me to cart her around and she was even able to help schlep her little brother to and fro. Besides the occasional visit to traffic court for yet another speeding ticket, she was relatively self-sufficient. I had something I had not had in a very long while...FREE TIME!

It was just a little time at first but then, when my son started to be more independent, it became apparent to me I had a gaping hole in my day. I have always been interested in alternative healing so I went to school to become a massage therapist then went into private practice. I started playing tennis and reconnected with friends I had not talked to in a long time. My husband and I starting dating again without the worry of babysitters or being home at a certain hour. This free time stuff is awesome! I embraced it like a long lost chocolate martini.

I think I went a little too far with my enthusiasm, though, because now I am desperately pining for the nest to be empty.

Get your ass out!

Everything to do with kids and motherhood is becoming a huge pain. I was never much of a cook but now I try to convince my family that Pop Tarts are a viable option for dinner (actually ALL meals) but fasting is even healthier. I encourage my son to be "green" and recycle his outfits several times a week to cut back on laundry. I can tell you exactly how many times I have left to drive to and from the high school until I am released from the hell that is carpool. I drink and swear in front of my kids because I am tired of pretending I don't drink or swear.

So, I'm feeling all guilty about hating babies and shirking my mom duties until I realized emptying the nest is a process not an event. The transition has to occur over time so everyone has time to adjust to the changes. If it occurred quickly like ripping off a Band-aid, we'd all be mouth-breathing basket cases. It is harder for my kids because their responsibilities are increasing dramatically just as mine are decreasing. Sucks for you, kiddos!

Joking aside, my kids are fabulous people but now I am ready to see all my hard work and investment put into action. I know they will be fine but I will still worry myself silly. I will always be here for them...even if "here" means a phone call from a private island while I'm getting a massage from Ramon, the hot cabana boy.

The Importance of Having "Me" Time

noreply@blogger.com (Emma Jayne) — Tue, 16 Nov 2010 11:06:00 +0000

My spawlings have been super-needy lately and I am getting little to nothing done in a linear fashion. I am reposting this from my archives because I am totally feeling this today...

I never thought I would get so excited about something as simple as having a few hours to myself in my own home. As the apparent center of my family's universe, I cannot engage in any task without an interruption for money, attention, homework help, food, and the list goes on despite my instructions "Do not bother me unless you are bleeding or on fire".

It's a wonder I can get my ass in gear to accomplish anything on a daily basis. This is something everyone who is considering parenthood should know: Parenthood is not for the faint of heart or those who plan on completing a sentence in the next 20 or so years.

But today I have a blissful three hours to myself while my work-from-home husband is at a meeting and the kids are at school. What will I do? I had planned on raiding my chocolate stash but my daughter has ransacked and devoured it already. Is nothing sacred? I scrolled through some of the more popular blogs and what do they want to talk about? Children, for God's sake! Now other people's offspring are reaching through the internet to interrupt my bliss.

When I was younger, I could not stand being alone. Surely, it meant I was being excluded from some exotic fun everyone else was having. As I got older, I began to love my alone time. I used to go to movies, shopping, and even enjoyed a cocktail or four by myself. I am sure some people thought I was lonely or had a contagious disease but I had so much fun with my own flowing thoughts. Occasionally, I would see a furtive "I wish you would choke on your food" look from one spouse to another as they sat silently at their tables. These are people who need to quit being joined at the hip and fly solo a little more. Maybe their felonious thoughts would decrease.

I met a couple once who had spent their entire lives having their thoughts interrupted by children. Not only did they have children of their own but they both worked at a high school for a gazillion years. When they retired and the children finally left home, they could freely think and do whatever they wanted. So they became swingers. Yep. Every bit of creativity had been sucked from their brains by not being able to complete a thought so they just went with the first fun activity that came up. Bought an RV to travel to swing parties and had plastic surgery, too. Granted, it's a little more exciting than quilting or bridge but what is the swinger shelf-life these days? Can you use a walker at swing parties?

This is just an example of how important it is to have alone time. When I have time to just "be", I feel lighter and less irritated by the everyday tugs and pulls that come with being a parent and wife. Alone time therapy is free, non-fattening and everyone involved enjoys the benefits.

So, I am off now to enjoy my three hours of solitude so I don't end up a senior swinger who wishes a food-related accident on her husband.

SuperGals! How did we miss this National Holiday?

noreply@blogger.com (Emma Jayne) — Sun, 14 Nov 2010 11:09:00 +0000

Apparently, November 4th was National Men Make Dinner Day! Why wasn't school closed on this day? For heaven's sake, there is even greeting card for this holiday !

I am super-pissed I missed this day. This is a holiday where I could actually get something I WANT as a gift, don't have to buy anyone else a damn thing, don't have to decorate or buy teacher's gift, or see long-lost and unwanted relatives.

The only drawback may be a significant risk of food poisoning...

I am going to make it my mission as your SuperGal to make sure you know about such important days from now on!

Does This Tiara Make My Ego Look Big?

noreply@blogger.com (Emma Jayne) — Tue, 09 Nov 2010 12:08:00 +0000

One of the greatest joys in my life is having a daughter. Yes, it is remarkable being responsible for the upbringing of a future Wonder Woman but the real reason is I now have a legitimate reason to buy these....

TIARAS!!!!

Tiaras are the fullest of the awesome of all headgear. There is something magical that happens when you plunk one on your noggin. Can you imagine EVER having a bad day while sporting an effing TIARA? People would be all nice to you because they would assume you are the most important person in the world to be able to wear such fabulosity...

...or they would think you have escaped the home without your meds.

Regardless of the reason, I'm thinking people would be extra nice to you because they

a) Respect your authority as the apparent Queen of Everything, or

b) They are afraid of you and wish you to go away.

My daughter,Tippy, is well on her way to having a most remarkable collection of tiaras and she wears them well. I think it is a genetic trait...

Tippy

Now, if I can find a way to utilize a scepter, I will be a happy Queen Mother. Please send your suggestions for daily use!

Auti and Tippy Are Moving In!

noreply@blogger.com (Emma Jayne) — Sun, 07 Nov 2010 08:42:00 +0000

A few months ago, I started a Twitter feed about my experiences raising a child with autism (Auti) and a neurotypical child (Tippy). I used Twitter because you can only type 140 characters and, quite honestly, I was afraid to type more than that lest the floodgates of emotions surge forward.

You see, I am the master of the suppressed emotion.

It was a veritable stream of Tweetiness! Before I knew it, I had filled a page full of things I have never told anyone. And it felt really good...

So, I decided to take the jump and make a full-fledged blog about our journey with autism. I wrote five posts which is pretty darn good for me considering I have been sublimating emotions for fourteen years.

I told myself I would write about autism when I needed to and continued my frivolity here on my humor blog. I justified not incorporating autism into this blog by telling myself people want to be entertained not bummed-out by something so serious as autism.

Then I realized I was avoiding my own blog because it made me sad.

After reading other blogs by women who have special needs children, I realized I was compartmentalizing my life into happy and sad. And that is not a real life. My life is neither all happy nor all sad. It is a mixture of both, with a little elation and boredom thrown in between. To present myself as a fraction of who I am in totality is to miss out on the full range of the experience.

So, Auti and Tippy are moving in here at Hot Flashes of Inspiration. I hope you will enjoy getting to know them.

It's Pronounced "Hay-Soos", Bubblehead!

noreply@blogger.com (Emma Jayne) — Thu, 04 Nov 2010 14:12:00 +0000

This post is most guaranteed to secure my spot in hell so don't sit next to me during a lightning storm...

My friend, SuperGal Amy, told me a funny story about her uncle's bubble-headed new wife who called a waiter "Jesus". Now, that was the man's name and all but he is hispanic and there is just a SLIGHT change in the pronunciation.
I think this is a common mistake for the unwordly types who do not realize "Jesus" is a common Hispanic name and is pronounced "Hey-Soos". (By the way, she called out "Jesus" three times very loudly. You just know someone was thinking "Jesus? Here? NOW? I'm not ready! I need a new atoner for my sin printer!)

Most people steer clear of baby names deemed too sacred for daily use but check out this list of names parents were OK with...

Ophelia Balls

Pat Fenis

Luscious Bacon

Fanny Whiffer

Emma Royd

Ivana Tinkle

But what if parents DID veer from the safe and saintly names like Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John?

(~~~~~~Cue the wavy dream sequence music~~~~~~~~)

"This is Jesus. He's our sweet child. So loving and forgiving.

If we could just get him to cut that hair.

This is God, our oldest. He is the smart one and can do anything. Really. Just ask him.

Here's Satan. He's a bit of a problem child. He's in anger management therapy.

He is forever trying to piss off his brothers.

We adopted a beautiful little boy from China, Confucius. We are having a difficult time with him using third person pronouns (Confucius say...) but he is such a wonderful writer we kinda ignore it.

And here's our little Karma. She forgets nothing and always returns a favor in-kind.

She can be a bit of a bitch, though."

You can reach my fantasy family at:

666 Blasphemy Lane

Los Angeles, CA

(Yes, Virginia, Hell is in California)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Just to deflect a little of the fire and brimstone that is being hurled my way, check out Scott Adams' "Dilbert" comic strip about Hay-Soos. http://search.dilbert.com/comic/Hay-soos

It's the Most Obsessive Time of The Year

noreply@blogger.com (Emma Jayne) — Thu, 04 Nov 2010 11:35:00 +0000

Because I am taking an extended nap today, I am posting this from my blog about raising a child with autism...

I never look forward to the beginning of the school year. Auti is doing great in school and really looks forward to going back after a long summer of boredom and loneliness so it's not school that is the problem. It's Christmas. Auti starts making his Christmas list in August because that is time video game manufacturers start promoting the new games that will be out for the season.

Auti spends countless hours researching which games he will put on his list. He is given a budget and agonizes over how to best allocate the funds for maximum enjoyment. He also keeps track of release dates so I will have sufficient time to get to the store and purchase said games in time to "surprise" him on Christmas morning. He gives me detailed instructions of how to plan my day on the release date so I will be sure to procure the object of his obsession. Auti worries I will forget so he reminds me DAILY of his plan.
He is driving me nuts.

It is October and we have been at this for almost two months. Christmas is still two months away. That is a quarter of the year we deal with Auti's obsessiveness over Christmas presents. I am numb to talk about video games and get a glazed over look on my face when he brings it up. I allow him to talk to me about presents two times a day because I know he needs to express himself. After that, he has to write it down in journal and is allowed to bring up things he's written down during his allotted time. At this rate, he needs ten years of chats to cover all his thoughts.

To make matters worse, the release dates keep changing. This makes video game makers my "Public Enemy Number One". Do they have any idea the turmoil this causes in my household? Auti has to re-create the whole scenario and it upsets him beyond belief. Worse yet, I have to hear about the new plan several times before he feels comfortable enough with it to stop the endless chatter.

I feel guilty about not wanting to hear Auti talk about video games. I waited 6 years before he said "Mama" for the first time and every word he speaks now is truly a miracle to me. I know I am the one person he can tell exactly what's on his mind no matter how random or silly it seems. This is a role I take very seriously. Because autism is a communication-based disorder, Auti struggles to find the right words and does not speak to others as much as he does with me. He knows I will not judge or ridicule him but will help him find his voice.

So, when he starts talking about "Total Destruction Warlords of Hell-Fire Robot Ninjas" (or something like that), I just smile, look interested, and enjoy the feeling of his words filling my heart.

Special Shout-Out to my HomeGirl Tommy..

noreply@blogger.com (Emma Jayne) — Wed, 03 Nov 2010 01:43:00 +0000

This one's for you, you silly Beeatch!

I Need to Borrow Some Kids

noreply@blogger.com (Emma Jayne) — Tue, 02 Nov 2010 15:37:00 +0000

I love reading other mommy blogs. Although my spawnlings are now teenagers, I can relate to the funny situations and things kiddies do and say. I must admit, though, I am jealous. I cannot write about my kids hi-jinks now without permanently scarring them or making them social outcasts. I miss the days when it was good clean fun to publicly make fun of your children.

The Good Old Days..

The Now Scary Days...

I am not sure when my little darlings turned into the ADDAMS FAMILY but these people are frightening. And they know where I live...

Bob Ross Has Issues

noreply@blogger.com (Emma Jayne) — Fri, 29 Oct 2010 13:41:00 +0000

So My Mother Called...Part 1

noreply@blogger.com (Emma Jayne) — Tue, 19 Oct 2010 00:26:00 +0000

My mother called me today. I noticed the call was coming from her cell phone at 4:00pm and the hair immediately went up on my neck. Something must be wrong for her to call me before her free minutes start at 7:00pm.
She is an elderly person on a limited income, as she is wont to tell me, and she does not throw her Social Security away for nothing.

I usually keep up with Mom via email but her computer has been down for about a month now. I encouraged her to call for tech help but I think she has been trying to guilt the computer into working instead (see my previous post about her super-guilting powers.)

I can just see her now sitting in front of the blank screen:
"Because of you, everyone probably thinks I'm dead because I have not answered their emails."
Apparently, her super-powers do not work on anything not genetically tied to her. Or electronics. Gotta give her credit for trying, though.

So, fully expecting to get the death-march obituary report or the "I could be dead. You haven't called" spiel, I answer the phone.

Me: "Hi Mom!"
Mother: "Your mother needs a new cellular phone".
Me: " Is there something wrong with yours?"
Mother: "No. I just need a change. I want a purple one."
Me: "Is your computer working now?"
Mother: "No. It is too much for me to handle. If you hadn't moved away, you would be here to fix it for me. The least you can do is help your mother get a purple cellular phone".
Me: "So you can call me and tell me you could be dead and I wouldn't know because I have not called you...and do it stylishly?"
Mother: "Exactly."

Now, I'm sure she expected me to jump in the car and dash the eight hours down to get her a blasted purple cellular phone but, being the techno-savvy person I am, I suggested we sign on to her account to get her an upgrade. I got as far as the password before we hit a snag. My dad, who passed away five years ago, had signed her up for the phone and set up the online account but she did not know the password.

Me: "You are going to need to change the password and contact email on this account so we can sign on to your account."
Mother: "I think you would do it better. Your phone voice is so much more pleasant." (Translation: I'm not going to call.)

Miraculously, AT&T lets me change the information without donating an organ. They send the new password to her EMAIL but she can't get to it because her ungrateful computer is denying her access to the outside world. With a few tooth extractions, I get the sign-in information from her.

Mother: "While you're nosing around my inbox, tell me what's there."

So, I'm reading off a few emails and nothing seems important...until I see the one from one of our relatives. Oh shit, here it comes.

Me: (Bracing myself) "It seems Aunt Agnes died two weeks ago."
Mother: "Oh. I had heard she wasn't doing well. She's from your father's side of the family. They all die of strokes. You know you have their genes don't you? You might die of a stroke. She was two years younger than me and I am not dead, yet. I have good genes but you probably have your father's so you better go to the doctor."

(Good idea. I am feeling sick right now.)

Next, setting up a new password.

Me: "What would you like to use as your password?"

Mother: " I like 'Queen Mother'. I always loved that card you sent me with the Queen Mother sitting with her glass of wine. You know, I have always felt that just was so like me. Do you remember sending me that card? I think it was for my 74th birthday. You know...the one I spent without you because you were too busy to come visit me."

Me: "Oy vay. 'Queen Mother' it is."

Me: "You need to answer two security questions. What country do you want to visit?"

Mother: "England. No Spain. I have always wanted to visit Spain. But they speak Spanish and your mother is too old to learn Spanish at this point in her life. If you lived here, Emily (my daughter who is darn near fluent) could teach me but you took her away from me. So, England."

(Pause for me to make myself a strong cocktail)

Me: "Question 2: What is your favorite hobby? I know this one, Mom. It's Mah Jong, right?"

Mother: "No. It's reading. You really don't know your mother at all, do you? I know you are too busy with your life to keep up with how your mother spends her last days."

(Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. I'm dying here.)

THREE HOURS into this conversation, she has a new cell phone on the way. But it's not purple. I'm not going to tell her. I can't take anymore.

Me: "Mom, your cell phone will be there in about two days. I will help you set it up when it comes."
Mother: "Thank you, darling! You were always the smart one. Now, I need you to do one more thing for me."
Me: "What's that, Mom?"
Mother: "I want you to help me buy a new computer."

I told her I would call her back in a few days. I need a chance to buy a case of Vodka and get a prescription for Valium.

I'll keep you posted...

Charlie bit my finger - again !

noreply@blogger.com (Emma Jayne) — Fri, 15 Oct 2010 10:46:00 +0000

Ten Things a Man Can Do to Turn on His SuperGal

noreply@blogger.com (Emma Jayne) — Wed, 13 Oct 2010 13:20:00 +0000

If you have been in a relationship for more than five minutes, you have come to the conclusion that men and women really don't understand each other. We have completely different views of how to express our love and desire for one another yet we expect our partner to know our needs without uttering a word.
I don't know how many times a woman has said to me "If he REALLY loved me, he would know what to do without me having to tell him". Now, I adore men but I know you guys are not all psychic mind-readers and would really love some guidance although you are as likely to ask for it as you are to ask for directions.

So here, out of the kindness of my heart, are a few things you can do to really turn on your very own SuperGal. My perspective is from a married person's view but these can be applied at any time during the mating cycle.

1. Bathe and groom yourself on a regular basis. You are more likely to get some if you don't smell like a homeless person who has just completed a marathon.

2. Ask how her day was and pretend to really listen. Throw in an appropriate facial expression and a few comments to show you are in-tune with what she is saying. Don't, however, get so involved that you attempt to solve her problems. We really don't want your advice. We just want you to agree with us and tell us how wonderfully we handled the situation. Supportive is sexy.

3. If you are caught staring at an attractive female, tell your gal you were just awe-struck at how much the babe looks like her.

4. Wait till your gal is looking her worst then tell her she is the most beautiful creature in the world. Be strong. A suppressed gag will ruin the moment.

5. Wash the dishes without being asked. I mean the full-fledged clean here: wipe down the counters, sweep, actually dry and put the dishes where they belong....if you know. Helpful is hot.

6. Give her gifts. All the time. It does not matter how small or silly it may seem. Gals dig getting gifts especially if it is not a divorce-avoiding mandated holiday gift. Do not, however, buy her lingerie. This gift reeks of selfishness on your part and, let's face it, it really is for you anyway, isn't it?

7. Plan a date. I don't mean tell her you'd like to take her out and then leave the details to her. I mean tell her to go buy a sexy dress (that you pay for, of course), make a reservation at a grown-up restaurant, hire a babysitter if you need one, and iron your own effing shirt. Be sure to allow at least five minutes for fawning over her dazzling appearance before you have to leave. Insisting on a photo is a nice touch.

8. Kiss her like it's your first date. If your first date was a disaster, better skip this one.

9. Hold hands in public. Be sure to follow advice #1 before attempting this as no woman wants to be physically attached to a smelly troll-man.

10. Brag about her while she is in ear-shot of your phone conversations. You can go back to talking football, video games, or how awesome you are when she leaves.

This advice may not seem relevant to those of you attempting to sexy things up with your Supergal but they work 100% of the time. Trust me. I'm an inside source.

How to Deal with Crisis Like a Big Girl

noreply@blogger.com (Emma Jayne) — Fri, 08 Oct 2010 10:19:00 +0000

My 18-year old daughter is going through a really rough time these days and my heart is just breaking for her. I do not know how to fix her troubles but I did share with her these traditional ways of dealing with a crisis situation. They have helped me deal with numerous crises in my life and it is my duty as a mother to share them with her.

1. Remove all undergarments and makeup, put hair up in a lopsided ponytail, and put on sweats (preferably one with stains or tears). If you are going to be pathetic you must look the part first.

2. Cry like a banshee. If the neighbors do not think there is a squadron of cats in heat in your house then you are doing it wrong.

3. Eat an entire pint of Ben & Jerry's Phish Food. I have tried other flavors but they do not have the same soothing effect. Chase with a super-sized bag of potato chips.

4. Shop for something outrageously expensive online. In my past troubled times, I have (almost) purchased a entire set of Louis Vuitton luggage, a Hawaiian vacation, diamonds, and a small island.

5. Watch several hours of reality TV. Nothing will make you say "I'm really OK" quicker than watching self-destructing trainwrecks wallow in their misery.

6. Plot your revenge. I'm not going to give any tips here because it may incriminate me.

7. Plan your getaway. Now that you have exacted your revenge, you will need to skip town. Spend several hours investigating housing prices, commute times, and the ability of fugitives to blend in with society.

8. Take several naps. Being a hot mess takes alot out of you and I find I deal best with annoying situations when I am unconscious.

9. Avoid alchohol. I know this is strange advice coming from the martini queen but, trust me, nothing is worse than being pathetic than being drunk and pathetic. It may also lead to having "make me feel better" sex with an unattractive person which will make you more miserable than ever. Trust me on this one. And "D"...stop calling me.

10. Tell your friends they are, under no circumstances, to tell you anything happy that is happening in their lives. That new baby can be celebrated when you are good and damned ready to be happy about it.

I sincerely hope this is helpful to my little one. I hate to see her suffer. If I could, I would take the pain myself but I know she has to learn to deal with life's ups and downs. While she does, I'll be by her side with tissues, hugs, and a spoon.

Aunt Becky Bitch Slaps the Internets for Neural Tube Defects

noreply@blogger.com (Emma Jayne) — Tue, 28 Sep 2010 22:32:00 +0000

I recently met a woman on Twitter named Aunt Becky. Aunt Becky writes a blog called Mommy Wants Vodka and I absolutely adore her snarky humor. I also follow her on Twitter and, whilst cyber-stalking her posts, I saw she was having a conversation about the lack of information on the web about a cause near to her heart, babies born with an encephalocele.

Because I experienced the same anguish 16 years ago while searching for something..anything...on the web about my son's autism, I tweeted her and told her that, even though autism is the "rock-star" disability of the moment, it was not so 16 years ago. My intention was to show support and say "Hey, I've been there and I understand". The 140 characters Twitter allows, however, is not quite enough to express how much I can relate to this feeling.

Today, I read her post about how angry she was this weekend over the lack of support and information on the internet for those dealing with an encephalocene and other neural tube defects. If you, by the grace of God, have never experienced the panic and anguish of receiving a horrifying diagnosis for your child, then you will understand after reading her post. Imagine sitting in front of your computer, full of bullshit about worthless excuses for human beings like Lindsey Lohan and Paris Hilton, desperately looking for a kernel of hope and finding nothing. You are on your own, buster.

Aunt Becky has devised an ingenious super-power plan to raise awareness for encephalocenes and others suffering from neural tube defects. Not only did she start the Band Back Together website as a resource for parents, she started a prank campaign to trick the Google algorithm. You'll have to read the link to get the details. The genius is just too much for me to try to explain to you here. Basically, posts are stuffed with celebrity names which gets the awareness posts to the top of the search engine results. Her first venture into this do-wonders subterfuge got her to #1 on the results for "John C. Mayer". She has enlisted the help of her trusty band of Pranksters and they are "John C. Mayer"-ing it all over cyber-space in the name of NTD awareness.

Awesome beyond belief. I wish someone like you had been around 16 years ago, Aunt Becky.

My Mommy Won't Cook Anymore

noreply@blogger.com (Emma Jayne) — Wed, 22 Sep 2010 08:26:00 +0000

After 18 years, I am giving up the sport of cooking. The thrill is gone and I can no longer muster the enthusiasm for it. I am seeking ideas for meals that require no utensils or firing up of appliances....like the perfect food, POP TARTS. They are full of the awesome.

Dear Tequila

noreply@blogger.com (Emma Jayne) — Sat, 18 Sep 2010 09:19:00 +0000

Dear Tequila,

Even though I had a great time with you last night, my head is telling me this morning we should not see each other for a while.
We'll always have the good times...even though I may have to look at the pictures to the remember them. I am sure I will be back once the pain I feel subsides but, quite frankly, the thought of us together makes me extremely uncomfortable right now.

Take care.

P.S. You left you underwear on the chandelier...again.

Caught Between the Secret-Keepers & the Super-Sharers

noreply@blogger.com (Emma Jayne) — Sun, 12 Sep 2010 18:29:00 +0000

I have recently become more active on Facebook, reconnected with some dear old friends and made connections with new ones. My friends' ages range from 18-65 and it is striking to me how different the two generations communicate.
Like me, most of my friends are middle-aged which puts us smack in the middle of two diametrically opposed styles of communicating.

Our parents were of the generation I call the "Secret-Keepers". Everything was rosy in Family-ville on the outside but most families, if not all, had at least one White Elephant in the den. Some things should just be discussed openly for the mental health of all family members:

"Mom, why is there an ax-murderer behind the TV?".
"SHHHH! You'll disturb your father. He's reading the paper".

Of course, this is an extreme example but you get my point.

Our children, on the other hand, are "Super-Sharers". They will tell anybody everything that happens in their lives, your life, the neighbor's lives, and so on. Don't try pulling what our parents did with the White Elephant ruse....it will be all over Facebook and countless text messages before you can say " We're ruined. Cancel the club membership".

So here we middle-agers are in the midst of a hyper-communicative world with the imprint of the "Secret-Keepers" on our brains. Every time I post something on my page, I spend at least five minutes rethinking that commitment:
Am I offending anyone?
Is my post bland enough to not have anything seem mean or ill-spirited?
Have I been sufficiently rosy and happy?

Whereas my child has no problem firing off "I hate my mother! She drank all the vodka and ate pop tarts for dinner! I want to be emancipated!" Definitely things I would not normally share in polite conversation.

I attempt to be true to myself on my page without over-censorship but still maintain a smidgen of decorum. I want my friends to be entertained and engage in delightful and often silly exchanges. I cannot imagine anyone, even my mother, would want to see 5,000 photos of my children ("Oh look! He changed facial expressions. Get the camera!"). And don't even get me started on the whole Farmville evil dynasty. Whatever social skills these people had before they started playing have been totally depleted.

Overall, Facebook has been great so far. My only wish is that my peers would let their hair down a little and show us more of what you are really about. I bet it's really wonderful!

My Non-Jewish "Jewish Mother"

noreply@blogger.com (Emma Jayne) — Sat, 11 Sep 2010 11:10:00 +0000

My darling mother is as picture perfect as you can imagine: high school beauty queen who married her childhood sweetheart, stayed at home raising kids and volunteering, then later in life went back to school to become a teacher and deal with everyone else's children. A virtual saint.

But, by God, the woman can wield the guilt like nobody's business! Here is an example of one of our exchanges...

Mom: "I haven't heard from you. I was worried."

Me: "I'm sorry, Mom. Things have been hectic lately."

Mom: "Oh, I understand. There are so many more important things in life than your MOTHER."

Me: "That's not true! How have you been?"

Mom: "Wracked with worry. I missed mah-jong last week I was in such a state."

Me: "Please don't worry about me! I will call you more often, I promise."

Mom: "I could be dead and you'd never know."

Me: "Mom, you're not dead, dying, or otherwise incapacitated."

Mom: "But I could be and you would not know because you are too busy to call me."

Me: "You wouldn't have answered if you were dead unless you plan on taking your cell phone with you."

Mom: " Can I do that? Doesn't matter anyway. No one would call me there either."

Me: "Otherwise, how are you? What have you been doing?"

Mom: "Had lunch one day with my sorority sisters, then with my former co-workers the next day, went to the gym five times last week, Bible study on Wednesday, missed mah-jong because of you, went to your nephew's ballgame, and substituted at the elementary school a few days.

Me: "That's great! You are so busy these days."

Mom: "I have to do something to take my mind off the worry!"

Oy....

What I Really Think about Plastic Surgery

noreply@blogger.com (Emma Jayne) — Sat, 11 Sep 2010 09:36:00 +0000

I joke alot about needing and getting plastic surgery but the truth of the matter is I would never do it for the following reasons:

1. There is pain involved. I have spent much time avoiding pain and I am not about to take out a second mortage to get some.

2. I really don't look in the mirror much besides getting ready in the mornings and, if I avert my eyes just right, I really don't even have to do that. It's like the tree in the forest thing..."If a crevice appears between your eyebrows and you don't see it, does it really exist?"

3.There is alot of money involved and, since I am avoiding the mirror now, the benefit is for others and not me. I think the ones who look at me most should take up a collection and pay for the surgery as it will enhance their Emma Jayne-viewing experience.

4. I could use that money to buy the Louis Vuitton Speedy 35 I have lusted over for years.

5. I am afraid I will be one of the rare people who die during plastic surgery and have to explain my selfishness at the pearly gates: "You mean you took your children's inheritance and spent it on maiming yourself? You could have set up your mother in a nice condo for that price!" (Apparently, in my mind, the pearly gates are guarded by a guilt-wielding Jewish mother.)

6.And lastly, it is not the message I want to give to my daughter. I love being my age and would not go back to being younger for anything. This is a happy time in my life and if wrinkles and other disturbing physical changes are part of the deal, then so be it.

The Most Heinous Curse Ever

noreply@blogger.com (Emma Jayne) — Fri, 10 Sep 2010 14:03:00 +0000

I recently heard the most awful thing you could wish on a woman: "I hope your Aunt Martha and her 19 cats move in with you and steals your "back massager" to work out the kinks in her neck."

I'm not sure which side of this scenario disturbs me more.

Plastic Surgery for the Budget-Conscious

noreply@blogger.com (Emma Jayne) — Sun, 18 Oct 2009 14:02:00 +0000

Study Reveals Sperm Has Surprising Anti-aging Effects

noreply@blogger.com (Emma Jayne) — Sun, 18 Oct 2009 13:26:00 +0000

This was totally conceived by some guy who plays World of Warcraft all day and searches free porn sites all night.