The Inklings of Life

Tatted Mom's Guide to Sex Education for Teenagers

2012-05-30T07:30:00.000-04:00

No one has ever accused me of being ordinary. For those that follow Inklings pretty regularly, you know I don't do anything in a conventional manner, and my approaches to certain parenting issues can be somewhat... ~~messed up~~ ~~crazy~~ creative.

Today's vlog post is no exception.

I've been thinking about this post since I first did a vlog post a few weeks ago. Somewhere in today's '16 and Pregnant' and 'Teen Mom' tv shows, sex education has been lost. It's time to gain that back.

Keep in mind that this post could be deemed quite controversial, quite outspoken, and in the least, good for a few laughs. But, it's what's needed in this day and age. If you are conservative, this isn't the post for you.

I hope everyone enjoys, and will share with other open-minded parents and adults, too. If nothing else, it should be a wake up call that an extreme measure needs to be taken, for our youth, and be taken quickly, because nothing else seems to be working.

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Man Philosophy: Top 10 Woman Shows

2012-05-29T09:31:00.000-04:00

Another installment of Man Philosophy, and now y'all know that I married a smart ass! For the newbies to the site, we've had the intro Man Philosophy post and the cooking post, and don't forget about the Man Philosophy merch stuffs. Enjoy! ~Tatted Mom

Wait, I might have grabbed the wrong clip
art for this article... Oh, well. ~Tatted Mom
Courtesy of sheknows.com

Hello all, it's Hubby. I've been asked for weeks to write a new blog for Tatted Mom. The problem is, I haven't been inspired to write about anything in particular. So, I'm sitting here watching tv and wishing I was with the wife. Now, I'm inspired. It occured to me that guys out there need a list of tv shows that all women love that they can happily watch together for that all important "quality time". This list is in no particular order so please enjoy.

Note: Some of these shows aren't on tv anymore but are easy to download or catch on netflix.

Top 10 ~~Man~~ Woman Shows

Sopranos: This show is a classic in most wives circles. I have not idea why, but men, your women love this show. It must be the mafia, sex, and violence of it all. She'll always love cuddling on the couch to see Tony whack some wannabe wiseguy.
Spartacus: You'll notice on this list that most women love violence, blood, and insane amounts of nudity. As men, even though we don't like it, we have to try to sit through this filth to make our women happy. This show set in ancient Rome is surprisingly accurate considering all of the over the top gore. That's why I am able to sit through this when my wife wants to watch it...for the historical aspect. Be warned men, you'll have to turn away when the graphic nudity happens.
A-Team: Sometimes women like to go old school. It seems mindless to us men but women love watching a completely unbelievable group of Vietnam vets turned mercenaries. I'd rather read a good romance novel while my wife wants to catch a rerun of this show but, I'll put romance off for her.

The reason I will sit through
Sons of Anarchy. Hello,
Jax... ~Tatted Mom

Sons of Anarchy: For some reason, women think bikers are hot. Personally, I think they're scary. I sit through this on the slim chance that these outlaw bikers will finally get caught breaking the law and get sent to jail.
WWE Monday Night Raw: It seems to me that eventually, women will just grow up and let go of some of their childhood pleasures. Why my wife has me sit through the weekly, neverending pain of professional wrestling is beyond me. Being the loving, selfless husband that I am, I watch it for my baby.
Deadwood: What's shocking, men, is that most women love westerns. This is an old school HBO show that thank God isn't on anymore. I'm kinda glad my wife doesn't have the ability to make me sit through gunfights, cursing, whoring, and hangings anymore.
The Shield: Vic Mackey...He's such a scoundrel. Crooked cops in a fictional L.A. district. What self respecting man wants to watch that? More needless violence for women to get off on.
Star Wars: The Clone Wars: Women are forever crazy for some Star Wars. Give them an animated show about the prequel to the original trilogy, and they're in heaven. I never understood the whole Force thing and the laser swords...and Chewbcleaeaa...whatever his name was. How did anybody understand him?
Game of Thrones: An adaptation of some book somebody wrote one time. The first time my wife made me watch it, it reminded me of Lord of the Rings with boobs and no hobbits. That doesn't sound like something a man would want to watch but my old lady loves to cuddle to some knights battling in olden times. Whateves...Guys usually get laid after watching this with their lady.
Desperate Housewives: HAHA...sorry men. Women can't stand this show. I just thought since the rest of the post had a slightly serious tone I'd have a little bit of fun at the end. Unfortunately women don't like quality television. They have no idea what they're missing but guys, we can always enjoy it while the women are in the other room playing video games or taking 45 minute deuces.

To my wife, I can't wait to cuddle on the couch watching some of your favorite television programs. It will kill me and be almost unbearable but I'll make it through, for you. Have fun men!!

Good grief... ~Tatted Mom

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It's Okay to Do Nothing

2012-05-28T14:53:00.002-04:00

I want to start by saying Happy Memorial Day, and I hope everyone is spending the day outside, grilling, laughing, enjoying their families. For those in the military, thank you for your service. To military wives, enjoy the day too, because you have earned it, raising a family much of the time as a single parent, putting up with deployments, and standing beside your spouse as they defend our country.

Today is hard for me. Hubby is 2000 miles away, has a 3 day weekend, and is my grilling guy. I have no grilling skills at all, and don't even have a grill at the moment. 3 day weekends are meant for cooking out, which neither he nor the kids and I will be doing this weekend. Blah.

The tattoo studio is closed today and the kids have off of school, so I planned to get some moving stuff done today; head to the storage unit, grab some boxes to go through, go grocery shopping for the week, make the kids go through the boxes from the storage unit, stay busy, so tomorrow, my actual day off of work, I can relax.

Somewhere along the way, the plan changed. That somewhere would be at a point between the 4 hours I spent rearranging and cleaning out my blog this morning, The Ginger getting extremely engrossed in a Wii game (considering he hasn't played video games in forever), and The Girl starting a Nancy Drew Mysteries computer game. In other words, life happened.

That's when I realized it's okay to do nothing. It's okay to let The Ginger get his video game fix that he
hasn't had in weeks and won't have again for another week (we don't allow video games during the school week). It's okay to let The Girl solve mysteries with Nancy Drew today. It's okay for me to catch up on some episodes of "Supernatural". It's okay for all of us to stay in our pajamas today. This isn't an everyday occurrence, in fact, between school, moving, packing, running errands, family functions, and work, I don't even remember the last time the kids and I stayed in our PJs all day, relaxed, and did our own things. The storage unit will be there tomorrow, on my regular day off, as will the grocery store, and I can fit these new errands in around the errands already planned for tomorrow (like taking the cats back to the vet and getting my oil changed). I'm not sure why I thought I'd be relaxing tomorrow anyway, with 2 major things on my agenda.

It's sad in this day and age that you have to make an effort to do nothing. I wanted to fight this idea so much when it first hit me. It was 1pm, everyone was still in their PJs and I had no motivation to get dressed, much less go outside the apartment and go digging around in a storage unit or do our shopping. I actually argued with myself for a minute, about how I didn't feel like doing anything, but I couldn't not do anything. I tried to come up with reasons I had to leave the house... groceries. Nope, bought some yesterday, and we had everything we needed to get through today. Storage unit. No place to put the stuff from the storage unit until we clean out the kids' closet. Holy crap, is it possible that I really can do nothing today?

Yep, it is, and I finally made the decision, for myself and my family, to do just that.

So today, we do nothing. And by nothing I mean things that we are interested in doing, things that keep us relaxed, things that make us happy. We slow life down for a day, and just enjoy it.

Every family needs that, and I highly recommend it to anyone. It's currently almost 3pm, I'm still in my PJs, as are my kids, I've only heard laughing and 'Hey, mom, I found the secret hiding place, wooo hooo!' from my kids (playing their video games), I've revamped my blog and now written a heartfelt post. I have taken something out for dinner already, but I enjoy cooking, so making a big meal is a happy place for me. Plus, I hear Sam and Dean Winchester calling me from the bedroom...

Yeah, my true motivation; spending the rest of the day laying in bed watching 'Supernatural'. Yum.

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17 Things I'd Do If I Were President

2012-05-27T09:21:00.000-04:00

I don't get into politics much at all- not in conversation, not in my blog, not in my life. Sure, there are things I stand for, and things I oppose, but they are my things, that I generally keep to myself. My post today is not necessarily a political one. It is, like most of my other posts, a humorous one. So, enjoy, and feel free to add your own to the bottom as a comment, and share with your friends on facebook or via email (there are links for both of that) if you have the same views I do!

These are in random order, by the way, and I know now that I'm taking a huge risk with some of these. I'll either gain some mad respect, or lose some of my following. Fingers crossed for the mad respect...

17 Things I'd Do If I Were President

We would have a nationwide mandatory nap time from 2pm-3pm every day.

Stay-at-home moms would get paid by the government for their job. Not like welfare, but a legitimate paycheck. They would get raises if their kids are doing well in school, kept healthy, and well-adjusted, and get pay cuts if their kids take a gun to school, or do drugs, or are not a functioning, positive member of society. Yes, drug tests will be held for the stay-at-home moms, too, and anyone failing the hardcore drugs will be fired immediately from their position.

Women's clothing sizes below size 6 will be dropped from all clothing lines. Size 11/12 will be the new 'skinny'. If you want to have a size 0 ass, then you'll have to pay the government to have an 'I don't eat on a regular basis' card to buy special clothes.

Teachers would be given raises, and funding put back into the schools for art, music, theater, wood shop, etc. These are the courses where children find their callings, where personalities are formed, and yet they are the first to be cut from schools when money gets tight.

Coffee and cheesecake would be given complimentary at the end of every meal at a restaurant, like the rolls at the beginning of the meal. Just a small piece of cake so you still have the option to buy a bigger one.

Nationwide healthcare. Affordable. Fair. Safe. 'Nuff said.

I would legalize weed. Seriously, I would. I don't smoke weed or do drugs of any kind, but I do know that alcohol related deaths are almost in the 100,000 range per year, but the number of deaths from weed are less than 50 a year, and none of them site weed as the primary cause of death. The government could legalize weed, regulate it, and boost this economy. Hardcore, or man made drugs? Nope, they need to stay illegal, and more needs to be done about getting rid of them altogether.

Anyone found guilty of crimes against a child or woman will be given the death penalty. I don't want a nation with child molesters, child abusers, rapists, and wife beaters.

You are GONE, creepy clown doll.

Creepy clown dolls would all be burned, or placed in a museum behind super-reinforced glass and iron bars, so people that like creepy clown dolls could go see them if they wanted to, but the creepy clown dolls can't be free to eat our souls.

Fast food places would be highly regulated to where they would either have to drastically change their menus in favor of healthy meals, or shut down altogether.

Marriage would be legal... all marriage... between 2 consenting adults, regardless of race, sex, religious affiliation, etc. We need to re-teach the world what love is, and restricting it teaches hate.

Every woman gets a check, once a month, for things like chocolate, cheese, bread, ice cream, chips, wine, and tampons... if we are calmer during our monthly visitor, the world is a better place.

Raises for US military. They are risking their lives; they deserve more money for that.

Big corporations would have to donate at least 30% of their profits back to the community, or to a charity that they did not create. There's no reason for places like WalMart to be clearing billions of dollars each year in profit, and our school systems and towns are crumbling. Sheesh.

Certain aspects of photoshopping will be made illegal. Retouching and airbrushing people to look skinnier, or healthier than they really are, will be a crime. If models don't want people seeing the black circles under their eyes, they need to sleep. We need to stop lying to the youth of America with ads and pictures that are photoshopped so much they no longer look like the person in the picture, and stop sending the message that the people in those pictures are real, because they aren't.

Courtesy of TShirtBordello

Natural healing, homeopathy, nutrition and alternative medicine would be made a legitimate healthcare option, and would be made available by my new healthcare system.

Make nationwide courses on nutrition, spirituality (finding your spiritual self, not religion), nature conservation and going green, and preparing for the zombie apocalypse, readily available, and give people attending these classes a small tax break. These are all topics that need to be brought to light.

And just so y'all know, Will Smith would be my Vice President. He's saved the world from aliens, battled zombies, been a superhero, has been a cop, fought for a better life for him and his son as a salesman, and worked with robots. What better Vice President could you have?

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Get Your Own Damn Kid Outta the Street!

2012-05-25T09:48:00.000-04:00

Last week, I was traumatized. For those that are fans of the Inklings facebook page, y'all heard about my experience. Today, I tell y'all the full story, and finally share it with the world (as I think I've healed enough).

I was attacked by a bird. Not just any bird, a momma bird. Not just any momma bird, a momma bird who thought I was trying to hurt her baby.

I know how she felt...

Yeah, deep ish, right?

I'll start by saying I'm okay, physically. Emotionally and mentally... still getting there...

I was heading to work one morning, and as I approached the stop sign at the end of my street, I noticed something in the road. It was a baby mockingbird, hopping along, hurt wings. I swerved to miss it, put my car in park, turned on my hazards and got out of the car. I felt that I needed to help it get to safety on the sidewalk.

Now, I'm not an idiot. I knew not to touch it. There was no telling what momma bird would do if I touched it. So, I stood straight up, got behind the baby bird, which made it hop forward. Good, I can work with this.

Above me, I could hear the momma bird squawking at me, flying back and forth frantically, not knowing what to do. She soon figured it out...

I'm slowly stepping toward the sidewalk to make this baby bird hop forward. We almost get to the sidewalk and I happened to look up- there was a car sitting there, waiting for me to get out of the road. I pointed down to the ground, yelled, 'Baby bird' and ushered for them to go around me. They seemed pissed at me, but I didn't care; I was doing my good deed for the day.

We got about 6 inches from the sidewalk, I'm feeling all accomplished that I just saved a baby bird from getting run over by a car, when I feel something swoop down, dig it's claws into the back of my head, and squawk.

My first reaction is to scream and swat at my head, which I did. I turned and looked above me, and the momma bird had already retreated to a safe height. Swoop down, attack big beast, retreat. Nice, right?

At this point, I'm already hauling ass back to my car, and that's when it happened. Out in the open, in an apartment complex, I look up at the trees above me and yell at the top of my lungs,

No, this isn't me. But this is what happened.
Holy crap, apparently this is a common thing. I googled
'mockingbird attack' and this came up.
Courtesy of The Telegraph

"F*ck you, bird. I was just TRYING to help your baby. Get your own damn kid outta the street then, I'm DONE!"

I quickly got into my car and rolled up the windows, just in case she decided to go for round number two.

I don't blame her for attacking me. I'm like 100 times the size of her baby, who was injured and helpless, and she thought I was trying to hurt it. I would have done the same.

Didn't mean I wasn't pissed off.

Looking back on it, I really wished someone would have gotten that on video. It would have been hilarious. Me helping a baby bird, unsuspecting, momma bird swooping down, attacking me, and then me cussing it out. Classic.

I got to work and gave myself a once-over in the mirror, fearful that she had broken skin, because I knew, if she had, I'd be heading to the nearest emergency facility, and pronto. Birds have nasty diseases. Especially bitchy birds. The good news is, she didn't break skin. So, that was over with.

I told the story to my coworkers, and shared it on facebook. Everyone had me laughing about it in no time. Not physically hurt, and now emotionally and mentally healing. All was good (so I thought)...

Until that evening I was sitting outside the tattoo shop on the bench with the manager, and she looks up to the sky, and flying way above our heads is a momma bird and a baby bird. Not thinking, she says, 'Aww, look at the momma bird and the baby bird flying together. How sweet.' I look up, and my only reply was,

'F*ck those birds.'

Apparently I'm not as healed as I thought I was...

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My Ears are Bleeding, Thanks to Birthday Cake

2012-05-24T07:00:00.000-04:00

I don't think I can ever look at birthday cake the same way anymore. Thanks to music nowadays, I'm ruined... and shocked... and disappointed as hell... and outraged.

I was in my car the other day, radio cranked up, kids not with me (thank goodness), flipping through the radio stations, when a song with an awesome beat caught my attention. I turned the radio up, and that's when I heard:

Wait, whats going on with
that icing? Really? Awwww,
come on....

"I wanna f*ck you right now. But he wanna lick the icing off (the icing off).I know you want it in the worst way (the worst way). Cant wait to blow my candles out. He want that cake; Oh baby I like it, you're so excited, don't try to hide it; Ima make you my bitch, Cake. I know you wanna bite this, it's so enticing, Nothing else like this, Ima make you my bitch."

WTF? This crap is on the radio? My kids could have heard this! Thank you, Rihanna, but you can keep your damn birthday cake.

The bad thing is, Rihanna's 'Birthday Cake' song isn't even as bad as I've heard. We all remember Ludacris' 'What's Your Fantasy?' from a few years ago, right?

"I wanna get you in the back seat, windows up, That's the way you like to f*ck, clogged up fog alert, Rip the pants and rip the shirt, Rough sex, make it hurt."

(A small confession here, I'm sorry to say I love that Ludacris song. It's catchy. But do I let my kids listen to it? No, I don't.)

If we stray away from the sexual songs for a second, then we're bombarded with songs that make drinking, smoking, and doing drugs okay. Take Wiz Khalifa's 'Young, Wild and Free' for example:

'So what we get drunk? So what we smoke weed? We're just having fun...'

And the song is so damn catchy that, if you aren't watching your kids, they'll be singing along by the second time the chorus comes around. So what they get drunk? So what they smoke weed? So what they get an ass whooping from their mom and grounded for the rest of their lives?

Just in case you all think I'm nitpicking hip hop songs, we'll throw blonde haired, blue eyed Kesha under the
bus, too, with 'Tik Tok':

'Before I leave, brush my teeth with a bottle of Jack, 'Cause when I leave for the night, I ain't coming back...I'm talkin' about everybody getting crunk, Boys try and touch my junk, Gonna smack him if he getting too drunk, We going 'til they kick us out, Or the police shut us down...'

Amazing message there: head out, get drunk off your ass, just smack a guy if he's molesting you, and keep on partying until you get throw in jail. Definitely what I want to be teaching my kids. Sheesh.

What in the hell is wrong with music nowadays? What's this need to come out and say exactly what you are planning, or wanting, or doing to someone, or how you are planning on spending your weekend?

I couldn't help but post this picture when I saw it!

What happened to innuendo? Seriously.

I grew up in the 80s and 90s; our music was full of sexual and drug innuendo, not actually coming out and saying what you were thinking of doing to that girl this weekend, or what drugs you wanted to try. Yes, I know there was music in the 80s and 90s that was just as direct as the music nowadays, but 1- I wasn't allowed to listen to it, and 2- They didn't play it on the radio. It was a track on the CD that you didn't let your parents hear so you and your friends could giggle about it at sleepovers.

Hell, take a very controversial song (for its time) of the 90s: Color me Badd's 'I Wanna Sex You Up':

'Come inside, take off your coat, I'll make you feel at home. Now let's pour a glass of wine, 'cause now we're all alone. I've been waiting all night so just let me hold you close to me, 'Cause I've been dying for you girl to make love to me... Girl you make me feel real good, We can do it 'til we both wake up... I wanna sex you up, All night'.

Look at that... romance, emotion, and making love. So much different than getting f*cked in the back seat of a car until it hurts, like in Luda's song above (Sorry, Luda).

Let's go for another sexual song of the 90s: Salt n' Pepa's 'Push It':

'Yeah, you come here, gimme a kiss, Better make it fast or else I'm gonna get pissed, Can't you hear the music's pumpin' hard like I wish you would? Now push it, push it real good.'

My mom back in the day: 'Hey, whoa, what'd she say? What's this song about?'
A pre-teen Me: Dancing. Push it. It's a dance move.
Mom: Oh, okay, that's fine then.

See? There's no misinterpreting the lyrics of today. Back when I was growing up? Yep, there was doubt. Are they singing about sex or no? No one knew!

Now, did I have to hide Nine Inch Nails' 'Closer' from my parents? Yep, sure did. Well, actually, when I became a teenager and was pissed at my parents, I'd lock my door and turn that song up all the way on my stereo. As soon as Trent Reznor started with, 'I wanna f*ck you like an animal, I wanna feel you from the inside...' my mom was at the door, beating it down. Oops, sorry.

So, now we move onto the drinking, drugs and partying songs. What better reference could you possibly have than Stone Temple Pilots? Do we all remember 'Trippin' on a Hole in a Paper Heart':

'Fake the heat and scratch the itch, Skinned up knees and salty lips, I'll breathe your life, Vicks Vapor life, and when you binge I purge alike, Let go, it's harder holding on, One more trip and I'll be gone, So keep your head up, keep it on, Just a whisper I'll be gone'.

What in the hell did he just say? While yes, the song states 'one more trip' and says, 'All dressed up on a wedding day, keep on trippin' anyway', not too many people who listened to this song knew that this song was about LSD. Why? Because the song made no freaking sense at all... he wrote it while tripping on LSD.

Yes, there were inappropriate songs back in the day, but the abundance of them today is overwhelming. And, the fact that the recording companies promote this crap, and the radio stations play this crap has me seriously concerned for the future of music and the future of our youth. They are allowing more and more words to be left uncensored on the radio now, more and more raunchy subject matter to be sang about, and less and less to be left to the imagination.

And innuendo has been thrown out of the window, that's for sure.

I monitor what my kids listen to. I probably let a few more things slide than I should, like 'Carryout' by Timbaland and Justin Timberlake; I love that song, and used to tell my kids they could listen to it but not sing it. Again, though, the song is full of innuendo, not actual vulgarity. The songs that come out and say exactly what two people or doing, or directly talk about drinking and doing drugs, they are no goes in my house.

I just keep thinking, 'Holy crap, if this is the music of today, what does the next 10, 20, 30 years hold?' Think about how far music has come in, say, the last 30 years. I'll use Marvin Gaye's 'Sexual Healing' as an example. What, in the early 1980's was this:

'Oh baby, now let's get down tonight, Oh baby, I'm hot just like an oven, I need some lovin, And baby, I can't hold it much longer, It's getting stronger and stronger, And when I get that feeling, I want sexual healing'

would nowadays be this:

'Hey bitch, let's f*ck tonight, Hey bitch, go down on me to get me hot, I need you to f*ck me, And bitch, I'm about to explode, My d*ck's getting harder and harder, And when it gets like this, I need to f*ck you rough.'

Yeah, I just took one of the most sexy-feeling songs ever and turned it into vulgar trash.

Just as the music industry has done over the years. Thanks for that, music industry. How about coming out with some decent stuff again. Please? Is it too much to ask?

So images of 'birthday cake' for me make me happy with the thought of the fluffy goodness, the butter cream icing, the sugary goodness... not of some guy licking icing off of Rihanna. Good grief.

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"MOMumental" Book Review & Giveaway

2012-05-23T07:00:00.000-04:00

So, y'all know Inklings is not a review/giveaway blog. I must make that clear in the beginning. If something comes along that catches my attention, then I will post an honest review about it... but it has to take something pretty cool, and this does not happen very often.

I was emailed about reviewing a book entitled "MOMumental" (catchy title, isn't it?), which is a collection of stories of motherhood, written by Jennifer Grant. I received my copy in the mail (2 copies, actually, which means I get to do my first giveaway, below), and started reading it immediately.

The first thing I noticed about the book was the chapter names. 'Mommy Misdemeanors: Adventures in Messing Up' and 'There's Something About Blue French Fries: Adventures in Junk Culture'. Different, quirky... right up my alley.

I was shocked at how many of Jennifer's stories I could relate to, or seek wisdom from. In Chapter 4, 'Escape to Gordon's House: Adventures in Friendship' she tells readers how while her husband was travelling for work, she always did for her kids, and often forgot about herself. She relates that to how, on an airplane, the flight attendants tell you in case of emergency, secure your own mask then help the person next to you, but how she, like so many moms, metaphorically secured her children's masks and forgot to put on her own.

Hey, that's me... and an amazing analogy, needless to say.

The whole book is filled with little tidbits that resonated so highly with me. How she turned off her TV and urged her kids to play outside, how important family meetings can be (we are so starting those when the kids and I get to Arizona next month), how trust and faith in the family can overcome so many hurdles. She goes
into how there is no such thing as the perfect mother, and we should resist societal labels. And how dinner around the table can make a stronger child and stronger family.

Very inspiring book. Not a typical parenting book in the way of, 'do this' and 'don't do this' to raise your kids, but just a collection of stories of her own parenting journey that you find you can relate to, and learn from.

She also has an amazingly helpful appendix section which contains Five Multiple-Duty Products Busy Moms Shouldn't Be Without, as well as Signs of Mommy Burnout. I kind of wish this stuff had been thrown in throughout the book instead of added at the end, but as long as it's there, that's what counts.

I said this review (as with any review I actually do) is going to be honest, so I will say that I was thrown off at first by some of the religious references throughout the book. Then, I flipped the book over, and in the bottom right corner, the book is labeled with 'Religion/Christian Life/Women'. Something the publisher failed to mention. There wasn't anything wrong with this, I just wish I had a heads up. The religious tones of the book are undertones at best; a few Bible verses quoted here and there, and an overall message of love, which I thought was great. I just wanted to let my readers know about that before we get to the giveaway below.

Overall, Jennifer Grant's book is awesome. It's full of amazing stories that show all of us moms out there that we aren't alone, that no one has it perfect, that motherhood is learn as you go, and you need to do what's right for you and your family- that's the recipe for being a great mom.

So, with all of that said, you can head out and buy your copy of "MOMumental" at locations such as Amazon and Barnes & Noble, or you can try and win it here, from The Inklings of Life's first giveaway! Enter below, the giveaway is open from Wednesday May 23rd to Sunday May 27th. A few ways to enter, so check it out! (Thoughn y'all know I'm not a fan of blogs that do nothing but reviews and giveaways, I'm excited to be doing my first giveaway, and because it's not going to happen very often, let's make it a great one!)

A Rafflecopter giveaway

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Be the One, Not the 12.9 Million

2012-05-22T07:00:00.000-04:00

I sat down last night to ~~stalk people~~ catch up on facebook, and out of the corner of my eye was a McDonald's ad. The picture was of a woman, looking like she's making love to a cheeseburger, and there was a question about what you are craving right now, with a few options for you to choose from. None of them, in my opinion, sounded appealing. Nor did the picture of the woman molesting the cheeseburger.

Very briefly I wondered what was wrong with me. Everyone enjoys fast food every once in a while, right? The sight of that McDonald's food made me feel queasy. I realized then, that I hadn't eaten McDonald's since before Halloween... that's 7 months ago, and the reason I stopped is because that last McDonald's meal had me in the bathroom all freaking night. Not something I wanted to do again... ever.

I refreshed the page on facebook, and another McDonald's ad popped up, a different one this time. The slogan on this one read something about getting a 'delicious, well deserved lunch'. Am I the only one who yelled out 'Bullshit!' when seeing this ad? In my opinion, McDonald's isn't 'delicious' and if a fat ass, high cholesterol, greasy skin, lethargy and heart disease are 'well deserved' then by all means, I'll take 2, right?

The ads angered me, sorry to say. Why? Because facebook, while yes, used by people of all ages, is mostly a younger-based social media site. People my age- we can think for ourselves. We can see that McDonald's ad and say, 'Whatever, that food is garbage' and continue clicking. A younger audience, however, will see that ad and say, 'Mmmmm, I want some McDonald's'.

Fast food every once in a while is okay, yes, but that's just not the case nowadays. Fast food has become an accepted meal several times a week for some families.

And people wonder why the obesity rate and diabetes rate in the US has skyrocketed, especially in children, over the last 10 years. It's partly because fast food places are allowed to market on social media sites, and have commercials that draw kids in.

Smoking ads on TV are illegal, right? Packs of cigarettes must carry a disclaimer, issued by the government,
saying that if you smoke these, you could die. Understandably so, smoking related deaths total around 450,000 a year. Alcohol ads aren't illegal on TV, but bottles of alcohol must also carry a warning, issued by the government, to say that drinking is bad for your health. Alcohol related deaths only total about 79,000 deaths a year.

Obesity, however, kills more people a year than alcohol but slightly less than cigarettes (100,000-400,000- broad range, I know, but there's a reason why, which I'll get to in a minute) and yet, the government hasn't required any fast food places to carry a disclaimer, or has even regulated any fast food or easy convenience food.

WTF?

The reason it's hard to pinpoint the number of deaths attributed to obesity, is the side effects of obesity are so vast. It causes heart disease (the number 1 killer in America at 600,000 per year), diabetes (70,000), and certain cancers (570,000).

This isn't a normal post from me, I understand that. I'm throwing out a bunch of numbers, facts, which I don't normally do, but I'll get to my typical ranting here in a second, I promise.

Here's a number for you: 12.9 million. That's the number of obese children in America. Children. Do you know who is directly to blame for that number? Whoever is raising those 12.9 million children; parents, grandparents, foster parents, whoever. Children are told what to eat, told when to eat, handed food, by adults. Children do not have the means to buy their own food, to have the knowledge to make correct food decisions. Children are taught by example, and look up to those who take care of them, to trust that their caregivers have their best interests at heart.

And you know what? 12.9 million caregivers (at least) are failing those children.

I will start my typical Inklings ranting (that you all love so much) with a short story. School had let out one day, and the kids and I were heading to WalMart to pick out a redbox movie. In front of our WalMart is an ice cream place. It's always packed, especially after school. Outside of the ice cream place sat a mom and her son. The mom had an extra large cup of ice cream, and was enjoying it. The little boy (I use the word 'little' very loosely) was probably about 6 or 7 years old, and he, too, had an extra large cup of ice cream... all to himself. The child was so fat he couldn't sit in the chair; he kept rolling forward out of it.

I wanted to stop my car, slap the shit out of the mom, grab the kid's ice cream and throw it in the trash. Seriously. I was PMSing that day, too. Surprised as hell I didn't do it.

Personally, I don't see why anyone needs an extra large helping of ice cream all to themselves period. Just because you can eat that much doesn't necessarily mean you should eat that much. My daughter, skinny as a rail, has a super fast metabolism, and could eat an extra large cup of ice cream if I let her. The thing is, I don't let her. It's irresponsible. It teaches bad eating habits. But this mother that day, had not only bought herself an extra large ice cream, but bought one for her son to consume by himself.

Kill yourself, that's all fine and dandy. Seriously. You are an adult, and you can make the decision of whether or not to consume an extra large ice cream and you know the consequences of consuming that extra large vat of ice cream. But your 7 year old kid? He doesn't know that what you are handing him will put him on the fast track to childhood diabetes, that he's already obese, that the health risks and bad eating habits down the road will kill him if he keeps eating like that. You are, in turn, killing your son. Way to go!!

I started this post bitching about the McDonald's ad on facebook, but yes, in actuality, it's not their fault that America has gotten the way it has... not entirely. Do I think fast food ads and packaging should carry disclaimers like cigarettes and alcohol? Hell yeah, I do. Do I even think fast food should be heavily regulated to where extremely calorie laden or fat laden foods should be prohibited? Yep, that I believe as well. But in the end, people decide what they are going to put into their bodies...

Except children. They are given food, taught by example of what to eat and what not to eat. If they are handed nothing but fast food by their caregivers, then that's more than likely all they will ever know. The way things are going nowadays, with the obesity rate and diabetes rate rising in kids as young as 2, there are parents who need to be held accountable; these parents, these caregivers, are killing our youth.

It takes everything in me not to smack the hell out of a mom in the grocery store that has an obese child. Seriously. Especially when the whole family is huge. I want to just say to her, 'Kill yourself, but not your kids, please.' Sounds cruel, I know, but it's how I feel.

I'm going to give you all one last number before I end this post: 1.

What's 1? That's the number of people that just got done reading this post, at this moment: you. That's the number of people it takes to make a difference in not only their life, but their children's lives. That's also the number of people, at this moment, that have the choice to say, 'Yeah, whatever, this woman is crazy,' and not make a change for the better. 1 is a pretty big number. It can be the difference between life and death, between healthy and unhealthy, between 12.9 million and 12,899,999. And that 1 can mean all the world to a child out there.

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4 Wheelers and... God's Will????

2012-05-20T09:26:00.002-04:00

I'm treading on thin water today. There are some topics I chose to not ever dive into when I started my blog, because, while I enjoy a good debate every once in a while, many people today can't debate; they have to argue, and topics that make people argue spread across the internet like herpes in a whore house. I don't want Inklings to be herpes.

Today's post borders on one of those topics. So, I have decided to tell the story of what happened yesterday, and leave it at that. I welcome any and all comments about the topic, as long as they are respectful and adult. So, let's play nice, okay?

Yesterday was a family get together of Hubby's family. I love my husband's family, I really do. When I left him years ago, they all stood beside him, as they should, but when we got back together, they welcomed me back with open arms, and made me family again. These people are truly amazing.

So, we're out there, in the boondocks (have I ever mentioned I'm from the country... like, no McDonald's or WalMart where I'm from type of country), and someone had brought a 4 wheeler- a suped up 4 wheeler that sounded like an entire group of motorcycles. They get it off the truck and start going through the field, and I think to myself, 'There is no way my son, who is a little on the fragile side, would ever get on that thing,' so, I headed inside to socialize (yes, there were adults outside with the kids and the 4 wheeler). When I went inside, my nephew (who is 7) and Hubby's cousin (his 4 wheeler, and he's like 20, I think) were on the 4 wheeler.

A few minutes later, someone looks out the window and sees that an accident has happened. We all go running outside, me coming up the back, all relaxed, because I just knew neither of my kids were on it.

Wrong. The Ginger was being escorted up the hill by his sister and his other cousins, tears streaming down his face.

Yes, panic struck, and trying to get the story of what happened from two 10 year olds and a 9 year old is
quite difficult. I checked him over, and physically, he's fine. They told me he was driving, and Hubby's cousin (the 20 year old) was on the back, told The Ginger to hit a button, The Ginger hit the button, the 4 wheeler's front wheels went straight up in the air, and the 20 year old went straight off the back, and landed on his neck.

Knowing that my son was safe (which yes, was a miracle in itself that he didn't go flying off of it, too), I wanted to go into Momma Mode and ask why in the hell they were letting the 7 year olds drive a freaking 4 wheeler that's 3 times the size of them, instead of having them sit in someone's lap. And, for those that are reading this, wondering where the helmets were... this is the south, in the boondocks, nonetheless. There's no such thing as helmets with a 4 wheeler. Seriously. Sad to say, but it's true. I chose to not go into Momma Mode in light of going to see how Hubby's cousin was doing, and being quite concerned about my son, because he had yet to speak a word at this point, and was still crying.

They decided to take Hubby's cousin to the hospital, as he was seeing stars, forgetting things and a massive lump was forming on the back of his head. I'll skip ahead in the story to let you all know that he's fine. No broken neck, no brain bleeding, no fractured skull, just a pretty nasty concussion. Thank the heavens above, right? It could have been so much worse.

So, rewind, and about 45 minutes had gone by since the accident, and my son still had not uttered a word. He was done crying, but was holding on to me for dear life and not talking to anyone at all, not even my nieces and nephews, who are all around his age. I figured he needed time to process everything.

We sit down to eat, and randomly, The Ginger finally spoke. 'I almost killed someone today,' was all he said.

My heart broke. Everyone at the table told him it wasn't his fault, it was an accident, that the 20 year old wasn't holding on and was leaning off the back, and shouldn't have had him driving in the first place. No one blamed The Ginger for anything, and everyone was quite worried about him.

He started to ease up a little after that, and ran outside to play with the other kids. That's when my mother in law came and told me something that, well, made my blood boil.

So, did God's hands come down
and push the 4 wheeler over?
Just curious...

Two of my nieces there, 10 and 9 years old, sisters, told The Girl that it was, 'God's will that he fell off the back of the 4 wheeler to teach him a lesson about not holding on.'

I will say that my mother in law spoke with the little girls about their statement, and how she didn't feel that was accurate because as a mother, she'd never want her children to get hurt to teach them a lesson, but the girls didn't seem to want to hear it.

These same little girls had my daughter in tears back at Christmas because they told her since our family doesn't go to church, that Hubby and I were going to burn in hell.

That's my story about what happened yesterday. As I said in the beginning, I'm telling the story and leaving it. I welcome any and all comments presented in a respectful way, and I will reply to each and every comment I receive. I enjoy a good debate, and if this can be done as a debate, then bring it on...

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8 Things and 'Old Mom' Does During Her Kid Free Weekend

2012-05-19T08:33:00.000-04:00

My kids have been gone for going on 2 days now. My brother in law came and picked them up Thursday afternoon, after school, and I don't go to pick them up until this afternoon.

It's been amazing.

I love my kids, please don't misunderstand that. But, as every mom out there knows, sometimes we just need a break!

Since I moved here in September, I have had 4 weekends without the kids, including this one. During the last one, Hubby took me to an amazing hotel and we had dinner at The Melting Pot. The time before that I went to the Native American sweat lodge, and the time before that, well, let's just say I had hit an extreme bump in my road, reality had finally set in, and I spent the weekend in an empty apartment with vodka to accompany me... at least, that's what I remember of that weekend (there was a blog post written that weekend. It has since been deleted. I didn't want the evidence. Sorry.)

So, when I thought about not having the kids for a few days, I got so excited. Oh, the possibilities. I could sleep in, I could go see an adult movie in theaters (well, not an adult movie, but y'all get what I'm saying), I could watch whatever food documentaries on TV I wanted to without hearing them complain, I could heavily drink... ahh, yes, endless possibilities.

Here's a list of what I actually did while the kids were gone... Man, I've gotten old.

8 Things an 'Old Mom' Does During Her Kid Free Weekend

Go pantsless. I would have walked around my apartment naked, but my sister is here, so that's a no-go. But, I did walk around in a T-shirt and underwear, no PJ pants, which, if the kids were here, I'd hear, 'Gross, Mom, go put on some pants, please. Eww, Mom's not wearing pants.' Do I do it anyway when the kids are here? Yep, sure do, and I'll do stupid dances in my underwear just to put the icing on the cake. But, I didn't hear any of that this weekend while I walked around in my scivvies. It was nice.
Go on a Date. I went to dinner and a movie with my sister. Did we have to see a PG movie? Nope. We saw 'What to Expect When You're Expecting'. Amazing movie, by the way, that I would not have taken the kids to. It's not in our range of inappropriate for the kids to watch, but not something I would take them to the theaters to see. And, my sis and I ate at Red Lobster- way too expensive if we have the kids with us. I ate my seafood stuffed shrimp in void of 'stop kicking me' or 'Mom, can I have a bite of yours?' Ahh, bliss.
Be Obnoxious in WalMart. After dinner and a movie, my sis and I decided to go shopping at WalMart without hearing, 'Mom can I have...' or 'How much longer until we leave?' It was peaceful, well, except for the fact it was WalMart. But, I decided to dance through the aisles singing, 'Afro Circus' from the Madagascar 3 trailer. To be completely honest, I would have done this even if the kids were with us. It's just how I roll in WalMart; I feel I fit in better with the WalMartians this way. (If you haven't heard 'Afro Circus' yet, I wouldn't hit the play button below. It's addictive. And hilarious.)

Eat Cheesecake Without Hiding. Yes, Sis and I bought cheesecake while at WalMart (so, not real cheesecake, but what they call cheesecake), and when I got home, I took my pants off (see #1) and ate 2 slices... slowly... enjoying each savory bite... without hearing, 'Mom, can I have a bite?'... without faking diarrhea and hiding in the bathroom to eat it. And yes, I ate 2 slices. It was amazing.
Sleep In. Yeah, this was on my list. Did it freaking happen? No! I'm a little pissed about this one. My internal clock woke me up Friday in time to get the kids to school (no kids, no school), and this morning I woke up, checked my email and such on my phone, saw that Inklings had been knocked out of the Top 25 over at Top Mommy Blogs by a blog entitled 'PoopPeePuke' that has horrible reviews, was a little upset (who am I kidding, I was pissed, and my dignity as a mom blogger slightly shattered. Not exaggerating there, sorry to say.) and decided that coffee would make it better. Coffee, and writing (my zen moments)... writing about 'Afro Circus' apparently. Sheesh. (Please tell me you watched the video above? I know I said not to before, but now you have to. It's amazing. And, if I have this song stuck in my head, y'all should, too.) So, I didn't sleep in. But, I was able to...
Nap. Every day that I have off work or I get off early to get my kids off the bus, I get tired... right around the time the bus comes. So, I have to forgo a nap to go get them, then it's snack time, homework time, cooking dinner time, eating dinner time, shower time, family time, kids' bedtime, Mommy time, and my bedtime. As you can see, no nap time. So, yesterday when I got home from work, I was a bit tired, and out of habit I looked at the clock; time for the bus to come. Wait, no kids, no school... no bus! Hell yeah. I laid down on the couch and passed in and out of consciousness until Hubby called me.
Drink Heavily. Or not. I told my sister last night that I couldn't believe I didn't crack open a bottle of wine, get into the vodka again (maybe not to the extent of last time), or even have a drink at dinner. Man, I'm old. The last time I drank was during a #wineparty on Twitter about 2 months ago; I had 3 glasses of wine and was 3 sheets in the wind. I may have had one glass since then. Oh, well. I'm coming to terms with not being a drinker. I think.
Have a Quiet Saturday Morning. When I finally decided to get up and nurse my bruised blogging pride with coffee, I just sat for a moment before writing this post. No, 'Hey, Mom, can I play video games?' or 'Mom, can I watch TV?' or 'Mom, what's for breakfast?' Just me, my coffee, and my computer (and 3 cats, and a sister who is sleeping in the back, so I can't pull off my clothes, play 'Afro Circus' really loud and dance to it naked... damnit). This has been one of the most amazing moments so far. After I get done writing this, I can choose to play on the internet, watch some food documentaries (have I mentioned I'm nerd... a really big nerd... a few times, right?), make another cup of coffee, or go back to sleep. Not sure which I will choose, but I'll be relaxing while I do it.

I do call myself an 'Old Mom' because I don't go out and party when I don't have the kids, and I'm perfectly happy staying at home and just being lazy. I truly hope I don't offend anyone with that statement, (which is not like me; normally I don't care who I offend, but this time it's different for some reason) and that you all understand I mean it as a positive thing. I don't look down at the moms who do go out and let loose when they don't have the kids; I was definitely there a few years ago. I'm just not anymore.

What do you all do when you are kidless?

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Ken and Barbie are Freaks!

2012-05-18T07:00:00.000-04:00

Some weird stuff goes on at my house. I'm not even talking the hyper kids, the crazy cats, or me getting dive bombed by birds (for more info on that one, see Inklings' facebook page). I'm talking, weird stuff, that only occurs when no one is looking, apparently.

And just for the record, not a single person can convince me that the Toy Story movies aren't real, after what I've seen.

These 2 pictures are a few years old; I found them while going through my facebook page, and forgot that I had even taken them. My kids were 7 and 4 at the time, so the possibility of them doing any of this on purpose is slim to none. Accidentally? Sure. Or, the Toy Story movies are real, and toys come to life when no one is looking. Look at the pictures below and tell me differently.

These pictures are epic.

Please keep in mind when you view these pictures, that these dolls were not staged this way... well, not by me. I found these dolls like this at the time of taking the picture.

I'm not sure if they are a little 'off' in position,
or if they have a foot licking fetish...

This picture of Ken and Barbie was taken in my bed. I pulled back the comforter to find them like this, underneath. You can tell I caught them in the act... look at the 'I wasn't doing anything' look on Barbie's
face, and Ken is too ashamed to even look at me. Did I let them finish? Hell no. It was my bedtime, and years ago when this was taken, I was single, so if I wasn't getting any in my bed, then no one else was either, thank you.

Poor baby Krissy... she's sneaking a peek.

Just a few weeks later, I was cleaning up the kids' bathroom after their bath, picked up a wet towel off the floor, and found Ken and Barbie like this. Shameful. For one, their kid is behind them, breaking her neck to see what Daddy is doing to Mommy and why Mommy is making those funny noises. For two, Ken looks awfully uncomfortable... maybe he should try laying on his stomach or putting a pillow under her ass to raise her up a little bit. Again, Ken is too ashamed to even look up at me, but Barbie is just grinning away. Notice how, in both pictures, she's wearing a skirt for easy access. What a slut.

So, if reading the different stories I tell wasn't enough to show anyone that things are far from 'normal' in my house, now you have photographic evidence. Ken and Barbie are freaks, and pretty damn open with their freakiness.

Oh crap, have I just posted doll porn on my site? Oh well.

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Boobage in Michael J. Fox Movies? No...

2012-05-17T07:00:00.000-04:00

I think I'm getting old. Or, even worse than that, I think I'm becoming a mom... a real mom, who allows my kids to only watch good, wholesome G rated movies.

Or, the movie industry is making me think I'm going crazy.

I'm going to go ahead and go with the 3rd option (because screw the 'old' thing, and I don't know if I'm ready to be a real mom yet; I haven't been visited by a fairy godmother and a cricket that can talk).

Has the movie industry changed the ratings on older movies, or am I going crazy?

There's no need to argue the fact that what was acceptable in an R rated movie 20 years ago is now acceptable in a PG-13 movie, but have the people that assign the ratings actually gone back and changed ratings of older movies?

Easy enough to google, I guess, but I'm choosing not to at this moment, in lieu of my own personal research.

I allow my kids to watch PG-13 movies. Yes, they are 10 and 7, and no, I do not just let them watch any movie, regardless of rating. I look up the movie on IMDb first, and check out the parental guide before allowing my kids to watch it. What is allowed to be viewed in our house? Minimal cussing, drinking, some violence and gore. What is not allowed to be viewed in our house (or must wait until the kids go to bed)? Nudity, sex, extreme cussing (Pulp Fiction style), drug use, extreme violence, nasty gore, horror movies and thrillers (could cause bad dreams). Generally speaking, I do not have to check the parental guide on PG movies and PG-13 movies made in the early 90s or before. We don't even attempt R rated movies, and PG-13 movies made in the 90s or later I need to check, especially recent PG-13 movies (they show nudity, drug use, extreme cussing, sex and all kinds of other crap nowadays).

Imagine my surprise when browsing on Netflix one night to find our family movie of the evening, I see that
'Doc Hollywood' is rated PG-13. Hmmm... I could have sworn that movie was rated R back in the day, because I didn't get to see it until I was a teenager. I must be mistaken, and the kids would probably find it hilarious. Michael J. Fox, small South Carolina town, pet pig... perfectly harmless.

Until 10 minutes into the movie, a woman gets out of the lake and proceeds to have an entire conversation, butt ass naked, with Michael J. Fox's character, and yes, there is full-on boobage. The kids giggled, hid their eyes, yelled out, 'Ewwww, gross' and my daughter looks at me and says, 'Mom, what are you letting us watch?'

I'm letting them watch what I thought was a harmless PG-13 80s/early 90s movie. There was no boobage in PG-13 80s/early 90s movies, thank you. If so, I would have definitely remembered; I grew up on them. So, I paused the movie (not on the boobage part, don't worry), looked it up on IMDb, and sure enough, right there, it says there's frontal boobage in the first 10 minutes. Thank goodness that's all of the inappropriateness in the movie, so, considering there was nothing else to catch me off guard, the kids and I finished the movie... which they loved.

That led me on a hunt for more movies that I believe the movie industry has changed the ratings.

I found 'The Breakfast Club'. It was rated R back in the 80s because of the drug use, language and subject matter. I remember when I was a kid, thinking how stupid it was that the movie was rated R. But here was 'The Breakfast Club' listed on Netflix, as PG-13. IMDb still has it as R, but Netflix and my cable's 'on demand' section both have it labeled as PG-13.

So, I'm not crazy, right? Some part of the ratings or movie industry is changing the ratings on older movies now that we (as a society) accept boobage, sex, cussing and drug use in PG-13 movies, right?

Holy crap, are you serious? Changing the freaking ratings on older movies to allow my kids to see more crap? We watch 80s/early 90s movies to escape the crap, because I trust those movies; I grew up on those movies, and look at me- I turned out just fine. (Stop your snickering, I hear it.) Now they're making R rated movies into PG-13 movies? I can't trust them anymore! What the hell?

I know that I can't trust PG-13 movies of today; I have to look all of those up on IMDb before the kids and I watch them. Hell, some PG movies are on the edge of questionable nowadays. But, to go back and change the ratings on movies made 20 years ago... that's just downright wrong. What's the purpose? To try and get a bigger audience if an anniversary edition is released? To expose younger kids to things they shouldn't be exposed to? To make moms like me think we're crazy?

I know what some of you are thinking right now: if I have such a problem with it, then how about I just don't let my 10 and 7 year old kids watch PG-13 movies? Valid point. But, I veto it. Because I can. Many great movies are being given a PG-13 rating instead of a PG rating nowadays because there's one too many uses of the word 'shit' in the script. My kids hear that on a regular basis, so in my house, a movie that has 'shit' 3 times in it instead of 2 is perfectly okay.

The ratings standards, ironically enough, allow more crap to be viewed by a younger crowd, but also have stricter guidelines nowadays (tell me how that makes sense). If the 'F' bomb is dropped a certain number of times, the rating goes from PG-13 to R. But, as we learned from the whole 'Black Swan' vs. 'Blue Valentine' debate, a woman going down on a woman in a dream sequence is definitely acceptable and thus given an R rating, but a man going down on a woman as an act of sex is borderline unacceptable and may have to carry an NC-17 rating (they still have those?). So, you can see from this paragraph alone that the ratings industry is completely cracked out.

But, they need to keep their hands off of my tried-and-true 80s/early 90s wholesome movies. Seriously. I base a great deal of my parenting on those; if I could watch it when I was a kid, then my kids can watch it. Easy enough, right?

Has anyone else noticed this new phenomenon, or am I seriously going crazy? Have you noticed a different rating on one of your tried-and-true favorite movies from when you were growing up? Or, has anyone actually googled it (I still refuse to for this article; makes it too easy) to see what the movie ratings' system has to say about it?

Or am I going to continue to be shocked by boobage in Michael J. Fox movies? Good grief.

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Curiosity Kills the Military Wife

2012-05-16T07:00:00.000-04:00

There are many things about being a military wife that really suck. There are deployments that can last years sometimes, there are danger zones where we have to worry about our husbands' well beings, there is relocating every few years to a new state (or country), a new base, which always seems to come at the exact time where we finally get settled in to our current home and routine of life, there is weekend duty, long workdays with no extra pay, and so many rules and restrictions that it's hard to keep up with sometimes.

For me, one of the worst things ever is the curiosity aspect of being a military wife. I'm like Alice in Wonderland. One day, curiosity is going to kill my ass, and being a military wife does not help the situation any.

Need some explanation? I'll give you an amazing example.

Hubby texted me last night. Told me a plane diverted a few hours away from his base, and he and his guys were sent out to the site to help out this pilot. When they got out there, he found out some details about the trip that made him a little on edge.

What? What did he find out?

He couldn't tell me. I didn't need to worry, that he could tell me, and he was fine, and was going to be fine, that he could also tell me, but any details? Nope.

So, being that my curiosity won't rest until I have an answer, my options at that point were to push and push and push, knowing that if Hubby finally gave in, he could get into deep shit, or, use my active imagination to come up with a story myself, so outrageous that it had to be true, and satisfy my curiosity.

Here it goes...

Last night, Hubby got to work and was told that a plane went down in the desert and he and his guys needed to go help. Rescue workers had already been out to the scene, to help the pilot, who was okay, but there was a matter of the pilot's cargo that Hubby needed to go pick up and transport on the pilot's behalf.

So Hubby got out there, and the first thing he noticed was the amount of security at the scene. Then, he saw a huge tarp laying on the ground. They found the guy in charge, and he told them that what was under the
tarp was their cargo, and it needed to be handled with the utmost care. Whatever you do, he told them, do not look under the tarp. The cargo would be loaded on the truck Hubby and his guys came in on, and they were to simply transport it to an address programmed into this super amazing government GPS in the truck, and the people there would unload the truck and send them back to their base.

The truck was loaded, the secret address was programmed in to the government GPS system, and Hubby and his guys started their journey. Curiosity overcame one of his guys, and against orders, he lifted the tarp...

It was an alien! Hubby was transporting an alien to an undisclosed location!

Immediately, all the guys in the truck freak out, then realize that they are all Will Smith in Independence Day and started to think they were all hot shit. Hell yeah, they were transporting an alien.

The GPS told them they were near their destination after a few hours, but the guys were confused because they were even further in the middle of the desert than before. The truck slowed down as a metal fence came into view. They saw a guard's station and stopped. The guard talked to them for a few, saw they were on some super secret list, opened the gates and let them in. That's when it hit Hubby. Holy crap balls, they were at Area 51... At Area 51, to drop off a freaking alien! How awesome is that?

Unfortunately, they didn't let Hubby and his guys too far into Area 51 before a crew came out to unload the cargo (the alien). They were under orders to never share this journey with another soul.

How do I know the story then? I'm smart, that's how. Hubby had to go out to help a pilot that diverted his route and landed away from a military base for some reason, and he couldn't tell me the details of his trip. The only logical explanation is an alien. The alien must have woken up while the pilot was transporting him to Area 51, and shot out some alien laser beams from his eyes while controlling the plane's navigation system with his alien mind, and the plane had to emergency land. Seriously, what else could it possibly be?

So, curiosity kills me as a military wife. But, my overactive imagination makes up for it, so I guess that's okay.

And, I have a Hubby who just transported an alien to Area 51 on a top secret mission. How effing cool is that?

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Featured on Babble!

2012-05-15T23:49:00.001-04:00

I got the most amazing email this morning from Meredith Carroll, one of the contributors at Babble.com. She wanted to get my permission to use images and some captions of my '100 Years of Mom Style' post to use for an article for Babble. She said she'd credit me and link back to me. My answer?

Hell yeah! How do I say no to that?

When I first started blogging, I found out about Babble's top mom bloggers list, and at first had a goal of being on that list one year (and yes, I still would love for that dream to come true). My dream slowly morphed into another dream of wanting to be a contributor on Babble... A dream I still hold to this day. So, when Meredith contacted me about using my article & crediting me, I jumped on the opportunity. Baby steps, right?

So, here it is, in all it's glory, on Babble.com:

100 Years of heels, panythose and other non-functional clothing | Strollerderby

Again, a huge thanks to Meredith Carroll for spotting my post, thinking it was Babble material, and crediting me. It has made my week, my month, and has shown me that dreams can be obtained, if you just work for them!

10 Types of Idiot Drivers

2012-05-15T07:00:00.000-04:00

My drive to work in the morning, though short, is always an adventure for me. It absolutely amazes me how many idiots there are on the road. Seriously, how do these people get licenses? Find them in Cracker Jacks boxes? Good grief.

I think retesting for a driver's license should be done at least every 5 years. And I don't mean simply renewing your license, I mean retaking the written exam and possibly the driving exam.

I will probably shoot myself in the future for saying that, but really, it's gotten ridiculous.

Texting while driving has been outlawed in most places across the US, which yes, is a great thing. Does that mean everyone has completely stopped texting while driving? Hell no, it just means now we hold our phones in our laps while we reply to a text instead of holding it up for the world to see. Many cities and towns have even gone to the extent of outlawing cell phone usage while driving completely, unless you have a hands free device. Honestly I agree with that law as well. I have a pretentious Bluetooth, and I use it. I can't stand having a phone up to my ear period, especially when I'm driving.

I've been taking notes recently (while driving, of course... it's cool to have a notebook and pen in the passenger seat, writing while I'm driving to work, right?) at the different kinds of dumbass drivers there are on the road, and I think I've come up with a pretty comprehensive list.

The ironic thing? I'm one of these idiot drivers, and I can almost guarantee every one of you all reading this post today falls into at least one of these categories. Thus is life, and it doesn't mean I'm not going to ~~make fun of~~ bring to light these people. Hell, if you can't make fun of yourself, then you shouldn't make fun of other people (and I wouldn't have a blog if I couldn't make fun of other people).

10 Types of Idiot Drivers

The New Driver. Unless they are still learning and marked by a driving school car, these drivers can be identified by their use of a turn signal at every turn and when switching lanes, their ability to drive exactly the speed limit, their hands on 10 and 2 on the steering wheel, and, if by chance you were to honk your horn at them, you'd see that they jump a mile in their seats (not that I've ever done that for my own amusement... never). These aren't necessarily idiot drivers, but do they piss us seasoned veterans off? Hell yeah they do.
The Old Driver. Granny is sitting on a phone book, with blocks taped to the gas and brake pedals, is looking through the tiny slit between the dashboard and the top of the steering wheel, and all you can see as you approach her is a beehive hairdo above the seat's headrest. Her inability to even go the speed limit and how she swerves all over the place lead you to believe she was declared legally blind about 20 years ago. And, the best part of The Old Driver? Their car is a tank, made back when cars were still made out of steel, so if Granny ends up swerving into your car, you're screwed, but not a single blue hair on her head will be out of place.
The Cool Kid. Driving at least 10 miles over the speed limit, weaving in and out of traffic, chunking cigarette butts out of the window, and 9 times out of 10, their car is obnoxiously loud in the engine, muffler or music department. These idiots piss me off because they get up right on my ass and ride it like we're a couple, until they can pass. I hate these drivers so much, because I'd rather be in front of any accident they cause, not behind it or in it.
The Makeup Artist. This is the woman (or man, hell, this is an open minded society now) who is running late to wherever, so she brings along her powder, mascara or lipstick to apply while on the way. Sweetheart, if your eyes are focused on not stabbing yourself with the mascara wand, then they aren't focused on the road. It'd be better off for you to speed to work and sit in the parking lot for an extra minute and finish. Seriously. And if you run into me because you aren't paying attention, then I will personally shove that mascara wand up your... yeah. Try sitting down with that lodged up there.

The Eater. Busy life, always on the go, so take a step out of your routine and grab a bite to eat while driving, right? The idiot drivers in this category aren't necessarily the ones who are snacking while driving so much as the ones who are eating 2 burgers, fries, and an apple pie while driving. For some reason taking a bite of that burger, with the wrapper sticking up, has about a 93% rate of swerving. They don't think to put the wrapper down before they take a bite, no, they go to shovel the food in, are momentarily blinded by the greasy covering, and swerve right in my direction. While you are taking a huge bite of that burger, you want to bite my ass, too? Sheesh.
The Life on the Roader. These people can be spotted by the amount of crap they have in their car. Their dashboard is covered in papers, they have clothes (usually suits or dress shirts) hanging in the back seat, their passenger seat has a laptop set up in it, and while yes, they have a headset in their ear, they are talking 90 miles an hour about their next sale, or to a potential client, or back to their secretary at the office about not emailing that important memo. These people scare the crap out of me because they think that since their life is the road, that they can do more things while driving than a normal person can.
The Drunk. Scary period, and not too many details are needed for this one. If I see someone that is doing the drunk swerve (and it's different from any other swerve out there), I generally call the cops. Seriously, I'm that person. Call a freaking cab, or a sober friend. You obviously don't care enough about your own life to get behind the wheel drunk, but please have some courtesy for the other people on the road, and for the kids in all of those cars on the road.
The Lost One. Oh, crap, was that my exit? Let me slam on the brakes, swerve across 2 lanes to start to take the exit at the last minute, then realize that's not my exit, and swerve off of the exit ramp and back into traffic. Good gracious, seriously? Do what every other person who misses their exit does: Keep driving, cuss at the top of your lungs, take the next exit, and figure out where you are and where you need to be. Handling it the way you have so far just pisses off every car behind you, then we all inevitably speed up to pass you because we know where we're going and don't want to hit you when you slam on brakes at the next exit.
The Road Rager. These people are classic for laying on the horn behind you if you are going the speed limit or just slightly above, like that's going to make you speed up. If you are a bitch, like me, you slow down and ride directly with the car beside you, so the ass behind you can't pass. Then, watch their expression in your rear view. They'll be flipping you off, cussing, turning bright red. Then, when they go to pass you, speed up. You inevitably get screamed at, flipped off, and they say nasty things about your mother. It amuses me. Unless, of course, I'm the one with road rage that day. I don't lay on my horn, but if I'm in the right mood, and you are any of the other 9 idiot drivers listed here, I will cuss and scream and hit the steering wheel or the dashboard (like that does anything), and yes, you may get the finger when I pass you. Sometimes these people scare me, and I won't screw with them, because you never know nowadays who has a gun in the glove compartment and will try and blow your head off when they pass you. So, I pick and choose which Road Ragers I screw with.

The Mom Driver. Digging through her purse to find a pen, concentrating on the rear view mirror, which is not aimed at the back window but at the back seat so she can see which kid is pinching the other and who is hitting who, threatening to "Stop this car right now and put you out on the side of the road", figuring out what that smell is, where in the hell did she put the snacks for the kids on the ride, trying to consume her coffee, and adding things to the grocery list as she's remembering them, amongst many other things, is The Mom Driver. Guilty. I've tried over the years to perfect any trips with the kids. Bluetooth in my ear before we go, phone in the center console so I can see it, snacks given to the kids while we are sill parked at the house, pens in the cup holder up front, and I try and figure out what music we want to listen to as a family, before I even turn on the car. So far, my success rate has been pretty good. If the kids start fighting, they get a "Do you want me to wreck this car and kill us all?" rant from the front seat, which (usually) works. We mom drivers should be some of the worst, but because of our precious cargo, we seem to be able to pull it off quite safely. I wouldn't call us 'idiot drivers', per say, but I'm just saying that because I am one. I'm sure single people see us Mom Drivers and shake their heads and say something about how unsafe it is for us to be smacking our kid's leg in the back seat for making his sister cry, while we're driving. Oh well. It has to be done right now. I won't remember to punish them later.

So, there's my list of the 10 Types of Idiot Drivers. If there are some I'm forgetting, by all means, please add them in a comment below!

*Pictures in this post are courtesy of Icanhascheezburger.com

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Milk It, Moms! It's Your Day!

2012-05-13T07:00:00.000-04:00

To start off, I want to say Happy Mother's Day to everyone. We moms should pat ourselves on the back; we made it through another year of motherhood without killing anyone (or hiding the body really well so it seems like you didn't kill anyone), completely giving up and hiding in bed for a year (a day or two or week is fine), and with more knowledge and grace to tackle another year of this.

Oh good dear gracious.

As I sat back and thought about the answer to the question I was being asked over and over and over and over (and over and over and over) again by my children of, 'Moooommmm, what do you want to doooooooooooo for Mother's Day?', I found that my mind wandered a bit. What did I want to dooooooo for Mother's Day?

Sleep in would be nice. Maybe have breakfast made for me. Have a clean apartment without having to lift a finger. Be lazy all day and have the kids wait on me hand and foot for a change.

Oh my goodness, all of these options sounded, well, almost orgasmic. No picking up dirty socks off the floor for a day, getting to watch whatever I wanted to on TV, having coffee brought to me...

Yes... yes.... YES!!!!

Screw a fancy, expensive dinner out. If my kids were making dinner, PB&J was fine with me, as long as I
didn't have to put the crap back in the cabinets and wash the dishes. Screw flowers that would inevitably die in a few days and then I'd have to clean that up. Hubby did have handmade chocolates (from EH Chocolatier- absolutely freaking amazing) sent to me, after, well, a few hints here and there, so what would be better than sitting back, relaxing, and eating those chocolates while watching a movie that I want to watch, in an apartment that I didn't have to clean?

A foot rub while all of this was going on. That would be the icing on the cake, holy crap. Wonder if I can get The Girl to do that... will have to try that out!

I'm actually not a tough woman to amuse or impress. Hell, I used to tell people that a Happy Meal and a Redbox movie and I'm set for the night, better than a pig in mud. So, if I'm spending time with my kids (the whole reason I get to celebrate Mother's Day in the first place), then yes, I'm completely fine.

Well, spending time with my kids and getting treated like a queen, of course. That's all I ask on Mother's Day.

All moms deserve to be treated like a queen, and not just one day a year (two if we get to be queens on our birthdays, too). We do everything for our kids, our families, our homes, and we get 1, maybe 2 days a year to truly relax, and yes, that's if we're lucky enough to have older kids, or a significant other to help out with everything that day.

Hell, yesterday I went to the grocery store, and on the day before Mother's Day, the grocery store was packed with nothing but women. The few men I saw were either in the flower section or the bakery. So, it made me wonder if we moms had to prepare our Mother's Day for our families? Buy the food, plan the menu, buy our own presents perhaps? Sheesh, we really do it all!

Damn! Where do I sign up for this breakfast?

So, one day of being treated like a queen isn't too much to ask, is it? One day where someone else cleans, cooks, looks after the kids, and the most we have to worry about is whether we want to watch a chick flick or a family movie, if we should have another cup of coffee brought to us, and whether or not we really have to pee bad enough to get out of bed or if we can hold it a little longer.

And, if you are like me, you've already been milking Mother's Day. I started Friday night. I kid you not. We watched a movie I wanted to watch because I played the Mother's Day weekend card. Then yesterday. Oh, holy crap, I didn't get out of bed until 1:30. Yep. Had a cup of coffee and a piece of toast brought to me for breakfast, and ramen brought to me for lunch, courtesy of my oldest. And the only reason I emerged at 1:30 was because I was completely caught up on this season of How I Met Your Mother, and I needed to shower. I felt funky.

Moms, take my advice on this one (and yes, I realized I should have posted this on Friday so those who wanted to could have implemented my philosophy this year)- milk Mother's Day as long as you can. Sure, the dishwasher may not be loaded correctly or run at all, the eggs and pancakes for breakfast are more than likely going to be burnt, your coffee not sweet enough, that foot rub will feel like iron nails being dragged down the soles of your feet, and your bed will seem a little snugger, because if you refuse to get out of it, then the herd will come to you, but to me, those are absolutely the most amazing consequences ever of having beautiful kids, that you love with all of your heart, taking care of you for the day.

I wouldn't change the shoulder rubs The Girl gives me, that feel like she's attempting to figure out the Vulcan death grip near my neck, for anything. To me, they are perfect.

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Dear TIME Magazine...

2012-05-10T19:10:00.003-04:00

Photo courtesy of Time.com

Dear TIME Magazine,

Your recent cover has sparked some controversy in the world as a whole, as well as the world of mothering. Good job. Controversy means readers, readers means revenue, revenue means you all keep your jobs a little longer.

I'm a mother, yes, but I'm not here to give my opinion on breast feeding vs. bottle feeding, or to even completely comment on whether or not your cover photo is 'inappropriate', 'pornographic', 'disgusting',
'beautiful' or any of the other million adjectives, good and bad, that have been used by other people to describe it.

I'm here to say, quite frankly, Screw You. Your title of 'Are You MOM ENOUGH?' is what offended me, and let me tell you, it takes a lot to offend me. To me, the picture itself was not offensive, but the implication that because I didn't breast feed my children until they were 3, that I am in some way inferior to those women who did breast feed their children that long. How dare you, being a national iconic magazine, here to report the news in an unbiased fashion, title an article on your front cover in a way that is completely full of bias, and insults more than half of the mothers out there that see it. How dare you, a magazine that has withstood the test of time as a respectful piece of media, title an article in a way that causes some mothers to feel guilt, remorse, or that they are not 'mom enough' for their children. How dare you say that a mother's strength is measured by how long she breast fed her children.

We mothers have social, environmental and internal struggles every single day, and live in constant worry that we are going to mess our kids up, or wonder if we're doing what's best for our children. Then, you, TIME Magazine, come along and print this article, which is fine. A nice debate is healthy for society. But, downright insulting a majority of mothers in the process with the offensive title? Not fine. Not fine at all.

This cover photo just posted on the internet today, and has already gone viral, starting debates, fights, and has brought out the worst in people, especially moms. I've seen several sites already where mothers have been attacked by other mothers for either supporting this article or not supporting this article. Everyone is entitled to their opinion, yes, but your article did not just state an opinion; it insulted people in the process, which is something I would expect of the Hollywood rag mags, not a leader in news magazines.

So, TIME Magazine, Screw You. Seriously. From now on, when I want to read a news article, and I mean a real news article, I won't be turning toward you like I used to. Your choice to not title this article in a more tactful way has lost you a reader, and I can guarantee that I'm not the only one. And, I just hope that you can see the damage that you have done to society today, to motherhood itself, and to moms everywhere.

Screw You,

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100 Years of Mom Style

2012-05-09T07:00:00.000-04:00

In the last 100 years, we have come a long way in the fields of medicine, science, technology...

And clothing style. Especially for moms.

A friend of mine mentioned 'mom jeans' while we were on the phone the other day. Yes, I remember 'mom jeans' and how, thank goodness, I was a child at the time that 'mom jeans' were fashionable. It got me thinking, though. How has Mom Style changed over the last 100 years?

Now, this post is not about the general fashion trends of each decade; you won't see side ponytails and MC Hammer pants in the 80s section. I'm concentrating on mothers of each time frame, and what they were wearing while performing their jobs as cook, housekeeper, teacher, doctor, referee, and all of the things that being a mother entails. I chose to represent each decade with actual media ads. This post took some time, Inklingers; lots of research, and I can say that it was one of the funnest to write. Very eye opening, indeed.

So, without further ado, here it is:

100 Years of Mom Style

1910s

Ahh, the joys of bouncing your baby girl on your leg... in a dress... with panty hose... and high heels. Good grief. And, is that a sheer apron? What exactly would be the purpose of a sheer apron, which isn't going to be made of easy-to-clean plastic or vinyl? Sad to say, this dress, panty hose, and heels look for moms isn't a short-lived thing.

1910s

1920s

Yes, the dress, hose, and heels continues, only in this decade, the heels are bigger and have a strap over the top of your foot. So, there's no flipping these bad boys off when you walk in the door from the grocery store. Not that a woman in the 1920s would have been flipping anything off when she came in the door.

1920s

At least the clothing started to become a little more fashionable; streamlined, bag, shapeless comfy clothes. I could wear the one in the bottom picture. Large, oversized shirt, sweet hat, and the shoes look a little more comfortable. One thing to be thankful for with this style- no need for corsets. Amen to that.

1920s

1930s

First off, how many kids does this woman have? 6 girls? Oh no, wait. That's 3 girls and 3 creepy dolls. Or, are 2 of them real kids? Hmm. Something has to be said for the fact that you can't tell children from dolls in this age. But, we are focusing on the mom in this post... who seems very happy to be wearing a puke green ensemble, complete with an apron in the bottom right corner, so she doesn't splash water on her outfit while she's doing laundry. Dress, strappy high heels, hair perfect, jewelry on, and apron. Guess we now know in which decade the 50s actually started. While doing research for this post, it was with the 1930s that the ads with the best Mom Style outfits in them were household ads, not fashion ads like in the 1910s and 1920s (and we'll see the trend again in the 1960s). I found it to be quite interesting that the family, and mother, started being the center of the home in the 1930s.

1930s

1940s

Do you mean, with Vitality high heel shoes, I can go dancing with my husband and water the garden outside while the children play? Yippee! Again, we have the dress (seems to be a tad bit shorter now, though), the high heels, perfect hair, and the apron. When does this madness end?

1940s

What's this? Pants? You mean, I can wear pants now, and not have to do my gardening in a dress? Oh, wait. These are Blue Bell Work and Play Clothes. I'm going to have to take these off as soon as I get inside to make my man his dinner, aren't I, and put on my dress, panty hose, high heels and apron? Wow, society, thanks!

1940s

1950s

Here it is, the iconic 50s (which, now you know, really started in the 30s). Is that a woman doing the dishes in a dress, matching apron, sexy pantyhose with the seam up the back leg, strapless high heels, her hair done perfectly and jewelry on? Why, yes, it is. (With her matching step stool, of course) The best part of her wardrobe? Her amazing smile.

1950s

And ladies, don't forget your crown when your hubby treats you like a queen by buying you the brand new 'pull n' clean' oven. Now, with all of that extra time you have on your hands since you won't be slaving over cleaning the oven, I'm sure hubby can find something else he wants you to 'pull n' clean'.

1950s

1960s

Shorts! Yay! And comfortable flats on the feet. Thank goodness the 60s have arrived. This is where the household ads with Mom Style in them took a huge plummet. I managed to find this one household ad, and that was it for the 1960s. The focus wasn't on the family and home anymore; it was back on fashion and world events. Hell, even Bissell was doing their part to get women off of their knees... but still waxing floors.

1960s

1970s

Hmmm... I'm thinking of maybe trying this new denim thing. No, it'll never stick around. Good grief, right? Denim skirts, denim jeans, denim shirts, denim shoes. I'm sure the models are wearing denim bras and undies, too. Hey, at least it's comfortable, and I'm no longer cooking in an outfit Cinderella wore to the ball.

1970s

So, we moms went from owning the house and the kitchen in the 30s-50s, to not being in the house at all in the 60s, to being reintroduced back to the home in the 70s, with more gender-bending roles, of course. Like, torching snow outside the house with a Flame Gun. I want a freaking Flame Gun! And only $17.98. Hells yeah! I can't imagine why this gadget didn't stick around. I don't see kids playing with it at all, no. But, look at the mom. Comfort is definitely taking precedence in the 70s; she's wearing comfy slacks, a fashionable sweater, and a do rag. Looks good to me!

1970s

Don't forget your mink jacket when going out in the snow to play with your kids, though ladies. Because, 'Life is too short, and winter's too long to go without mink.' Man, PETA would tear this up nowadays.

1970s

1980s

YES! We have reached the 'mom jeans' decade. Tapered leg, the waist starts right up under your bra line; how amazing were those jeans, huh? And everyone tucked their shirt in them, too. But seriously, look how rockin' her ass looks while she's kickin' dad's ass at pool on their couple's date night? Pool sticks, balls, and her rockin' ass in those jeans; this ad isn't full of sexual innuendo at all, noooo......

1980s

And these moms were just heading to the PTA meeting at the school. There's so much going on here, I don't even know where to begin. Vests over shirts that aren't tucked in, the tuxedo-looking shirt, the mom pants, flats on their feet, and the backwards-looking shirt- all classic mom looks in the 80s.

1980s

1990s

What's this? Comfortable oversized sweater, leggings and flats? Virtually no product in the hair? Minimal makeup? Are the nineties... gasp... comfortable? Oh, thank goodness. I noticed that the media ads began to center more around the family again starting with the 90s. Hmmm... 30s, 40s, 50s- centered around the family, 60s, 70s, 80s- not so much centered around the family, 90s-the center is back on the family. Does this mean we get the 90s, 00s, and 10s, and in 2020 we're back to having the family not be the center of things again? We'll have to see, I guess.

1990s

Apparently in the 90s, moms used to breastfeed, out in public, in stylish designer dresses, with nothing underneath. I remember the 90s, but I was a teenager, so, I must have blocked this part out.

1990s

One more piece of evidence that the 90s were really focused around comfort. I am completely digging the long skirt with sweater look on the second page, and she's picking out fresh veggies to cook for dinner. Awesome! The look seemed to be low maintenance, natural, casual, and absolutely beautiful, if you ask me.

1990s

2000s

What better way to see what the Mom Style was in the 2000s than to recall a movie where a family comes together and has like a bazillion kids? Rene Russo's style in this movie was awesome. She was an artsy, free spirit, but her comfortable jeans, button up shirt and stylish platforms helped make her look good in her mother role. The 2000s began to bridge the gap between comfortable mom style, and trendy mom style, and I think it did a pretty good job at combining the two.

2000s

JC Penney began to emerge as the family headquarters for clothes in the 2000s, and they really began catering to moms. This 2009 catalog shows a stylish yet comfy mom, in jeans and a sweater. Carrying over from the 90s, her look is very natural, with minimal makeup and hair product. The 2000s were when I became a mom, and let me tell you, I was all about comfort and minimalism.

2000s

2010s

Present day. I chose to represent the 2010s with JC Penney's amazing ad depicting a lesbian couple and their kids. First, I applaud JC Penney on documenting history for our country. 100 years down the road, another mom blogger may be writing a piece on the last 100 years of Mom Style, and I hope she chooses this ad to represent our decade. It shows us that the definition of a family is always changing. The Mom Style of this decade seems to be even more on the comfortable and minimal side, back to natural beauty, to focusing on the family itself. Fine by me, that's what I'm doing with my kids. Give us jeans and t-shirts and we're happy as can be.

2010s

What will the next 100 years hold for Mom Style? A more natural look, minimal, with maximum comfort is my prediction. Maybe the reemergence of the 1920s shapeless, bag look, because that looks comfy as hell. Hopefully this 30 year cycle of having family focus thrown to the wayside will not reoccur. Fingers crossed on that one.

Pictures are courtesy of www.vintageadbrowser.com, except for the 2012 JC Penney ad, courtesy of www.jcpenney.com

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My Dream is Slowly Getting Squashed

2012-05-08T07:00:00.000-04:00

I had a realization today (not an epiphany; damn, I've had too many of those lately) that the door to one of my dreams is slowly closing, and once this door is closed, I don't think it will ever be open again. Let me paint my dream for you...

It's a beautiful spring day. The kids are at school, but there's some kind of class event coming up for which I need to run to the store to pick up some things. I have a best friend who is a homemaker during the day like me, who I can call up and head to the store with me, because they too are waiting for the time to start cooking dinner, or for their kids to get off of the bus, or for their hubby to get home from work. So I call up my friend, we head to the local Wal-Mart if we're wanting to talk crap about the people there, or Target if we just want to get our shopping done without talking smack, get home, and drink mimosas on the porch until our kids get home from school, and our hubbies get home from work, gossiping or just sharing stories or advice from our lives in general. Our husbands are great friends, and we spend extended weekends grilling out and laughing, our kids playing in the yard.

I bet you are wondering why I think the door to this dream is slowly closing. Sounds completely reasonable, right?

In my dream, my best friend is a married gay guy, but the feminine one, in the "wife's" role. Seriously.

I'm not going to go all political with this post about how gay marriage isn't legal (yet), or even completely
dive into my opinion on the subject itself (though it's clear by my post at least what stand I take on the issue), but instead I want to whine. Yep, whine. Have a pity party, in a way. Hell, this is my blog afterall, right?

You all know that Hubby is in the military. While yes, there's no more "Don't Ask, Don't Tell", the government also doesn't recognize gay military couples. Once the kids and I move out to Arizona, we're planning on taking it easy for a little while, with as little stress as possible, by moving on base into base housing. There aren't going to be gay couples in base housing, damnit. This is why I'm sure that the door to my dream is slowly closing.

What if Hubby and I end up staying in Arizona for the remainder of his enlistment, in base housing? I will probably never have a gay neighbor. The most I could possibly hope for is a couple where the wife is a lesbian, and the husband is gay, and the marriage is a sham to get more money out of the government, or for benefits, or to please one of their sides of the family.

I've come across quite a few of those in my time as a military wife.

But, I don't see the possibility of living next door to an openly gay couple, who is military, who have adopted a child or two; not for at least, what, another 10 years, if ever? Hubby will be out in 6, damnit.

Lee and Bob, Desperate Houswives

What I wouldn't give for base housing to be like Wisteria Lane on Desperate Housewives. Oh... my... gosh... that would be amazing. I would never get bored during the day, and I'd have my very own Lee (the 'wife' of the gay couple on the show) to sit back, drink wine with, and just watch the craziness going on, while talking smack about it all.

Sigh.

So, I can either sit here and keep my fingers crossed that the government understands that I have a dream, and that in order to fulfill that dream, they need to legalize gay marriage and accept it in the military, so I can have a gay neighbor... or accept the fact that my dream is being slowly squashed, and if I ever have my dream fulfilled, it will be after Hubby gets out of the military.

I don't like this one bit. I have a dream, damnit, and that's what America is made of, right? Dreams? The right to fulfill those dreams? Isn't that what this country was founded on? Then I want base housing with a cute gay couple living next door, who have kids, who I am best friends with the stay-at-home-dad half of the couple. What part of that is hard to understand?

For now I'll have to settle for a woman, military wife, stay-at-home-mom best friend, I guess. I don't get along with women, believe it or not. Any woman I have extremely clicked with in my life generally doesn't get along with other women, either. We bond over the fact that we aren't 'normal' women. Most women think I'm a bitch, so if you can make it past that, or be a bitch back to me, then more than likely we'll get along great.

Which is why I'd prefer my best friend to not have a vagina, but not be attracted to vaginas either. That way, I can be a huge bitch, and they'll just bitch it right back to me. The thought makes me all warm and fuzzy inside.

A girl can dream, huh?

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Do the Wet Pants Thing...

2012-05-07T07:00:00.000-04:00

Hubby: You know, between your blog, facebook, youtube channel, pinterest and twitter, you are probably the worst ninja assassin ever. People can find you anywhere.

Me: Good, then they'll suspect me even less as a ninja assassin, thank you.

This is typical banter between Hubby and I. Well, typical G-rated banter between Hubby and I, which honestly only makes up about 15% of our banter; the rest is most definitely PG-13 or above... way above.

That's me!

This smart ass back and forth that we do is one of the reasons we couldn't figure out why we were still separated. We stayed really good friends for those 3 years we were apart- so good in fact, that people each of us were seeing had major problems with it at one point or another. But, we didn't give a crap. We'd known each other 15 years; screw what every else deemed as an 'acceptable' or 'unacceptable' way for exes to act.

So, we removed our heads from our asses and decided to make this marriage work. There are many things we're having to start over new, or relearn about each other.

Our smart assedness (yeah, I just made that word up, but it's pretty epic) isn't one of them. That part of us, well, we just picked up where we had left off years ago.

Today, I wanted to share with you all some classics examples of Hubby and I. Some of them are G rated, most of them are not. So, if you are under the age of 18, easily offended, or have a certain mindset of how husband and wife should act toward each other, then I wouldn't continue reading if I were you. Seriously. Go now.

Okay, you've been warned. Choosing to stick around past this point could cause eye rollings, thoughts of 'Oh my gosh I can't believe they are like that', maybe some disgust, and very possibly peeing your pants.

Keep in mind that Hubby and I are still 2000 miles apart, so this banter is being pulled from texts... yes, I keep the evidence around, for just this purpose. I have over 1800 texts between us at the moment, that I have been saving... for something like this...

(Out shopping for the kids' Easter egg hunt, and Hubby decides he wants me to get big eggs for all the kids. I'm trying to describe these eggs I found, and finally get so aggravated that I took this picture and sent it to him so he could see how big the eggs were that I was talking about.)

Hubby: I like how you look with balls next to your face!!! Hahahaha!!!
Me: It's an egg, gooberface, not balls.

Hubby: What is my slut doin?

Me: Watching Funny Farm. It only has like 20 minutes left.

Hubby: Hmmm...

Me: Hmmm what?

Hubby: You were supposed to have dinner and call me back. Not dinner and a movie... You're being mean today.

Me: You're being stupid.

Hubby: Your mama is being stupid. I want brownies.

Me: Then go make brownies.

Hubby: That's what you are for. I'll wait.

Me: You'll be waiting about 2 months, lol.

Hubby: Funny, I just bought your ticket for Monday.

Me: All for brownies?? Damn, you must really want some browines, lol.

Hubby: Brownies and pie... cooter pie.

Hubby: When I get there, and we do it, can we try the 'Buzzer beater'?

Me: What the hell is that??

Hubby: Well, ok, it's where we're doin it, and when I get ready to... I punch you in the kidney and try and ... in your mouth before it closes. It's a game we can play and we both have a chance at winning. So, is it game on?

Me: That's a no... And quit either googling weird shit at work or talking to flightline guys, lol.

Hubby: Lmao, we were all sitting here at work waiting for your response. It was classic!!

Me: Was my response sufficient?

Hubby: Lol, yes. Definitely.

Me: So I'm still the cool wife??

Hubby: Lol, yes you are. You're my cool wife.

Hubby: Stop playing on pinterest.

(I was shocked at first that 2000 miles away, he knew I was on pinterest, but then it hit me that my pinterest is linked to my facebook, and lets people know when I've pinned stuff.

Me: Stop stalking me on facebook... =)

Hubby: Stop fantasizing about doing freaky things to me.

Me: Wha???

Hubby: I thought we were reading each other's minds.

Me: Ummm... You are just stalking me on facebook. If we're reading each other's minds, though, then stop fantasizing about butt sex... it's not gonna happen

Hubby: Oh snap!!! You are good!

Me: I know I'm psychic, you don't have to confirm it, lol.

And to show y'all it never ends...

Me: Baby, I'm writing a blog post about us. I need one more piece of our type of banter. Help me!
Hubby: I don't know, do the wet pants thing...
Me: What wet pants thing?
Hubby: When we were first married, and my pants were in the dryer, you told me that in 20 minutes we were leaving the house whether my pants were wet or dry.
Me: That's not banter. That's just an example of you being whipped.
Hubby: Ooooohhh... that's not how I see it.
Me: That's how all of your friends saw it...

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Reprogramming Myself

2012-05-05T11:49:00.001-04:00

There comes a time in every humor blogger's life to get serious.

It doesn't happen much, y'all, and there will still be my sassy ass commentary thrown in here and there, I promise, but this post is quite emotional for me.

Source: Uploaded by user via Annie on Pinterest

I had an epiphany last night (yes, another one. I seem to be full of them lately, but they are helping me make amazing, positive life decisions.) I was on pinterest (don't we all have our epiphanies while on pinterest?), and I came across this pin with pictures of a super skinny, stick figure woman, and a curvy, vivacious woman. This pin (pictured to the right) was on a board entitled 'Healthy & Positive Body Image'... so I clicked on it.

An hour later, I had added a new board, Reprogramming Myself, and was on the verge of crying. I had spent an hour on this woman's board, clicking on articles and reading comments, repinning pictures and sayings that resonated with me, and wondering what in the hell was wrong with me.

A short time ago, I was slowly killing my body. Seriously, that's not an exaggeration. I had gained some weight while Hubby was here, and had convinced myself it needed to go... and quickly. I had started working out at the gym, and was well within a healthy exercise schedule (30 minutes a day, 5 days a week, plus an hour walk at night, 3 days a week), but I had it in my head that this easy workout schedule needed to be paired with a fat-burning, weight loss diet. I started my research and convinced myself that carbs like pasta and bread were horrible demons, as well as all sugar. So, I'd wake up in the morning, have my cup of coffee (now with sugar free creamer), make a protein smoothie with fruit (because while yes, the body can process fruit as a carb, fruit was still good for you, and I knew the dangers of eliminating all carbs from your diet) for breakfast, snacked on nuts and fruit during the day, and lunch and dinner consisted of a salad, protein and some kind of cooked veggies.

A day or two in, I was bloated as hell, which, for someone like me, is problematic. See, I don't... um... pass gas in front of people. So this diet, which was making me full of it, had me in some pain, let me tell you. And my jeans, which already didn't fit because of the weight gain while Hubby was here, now absolutely did not even button.

Wtf, seriously? I'm working out every morning, doing cardio, lifting weights, eating healthy, and my 'fat clothes' don't even fit anymore? Talk about frustrating.

After a few days of being uncomfortable, I was at work, in the middle of doing a tattoo, when I felt like I was being stabbed in the gut. I finished the guy's outline, made up some excuse of having him stretch his legs and break for a second, and ran to the bathroom, where everything I had eaten that day (my fruit smoothie, coffee, a veggie omelet, and more fruit) came out quickly and violently. I pulled myself together, finished the guy's tattoo, then ran back to the bathroom for round #2. The manager told me to head home early, so I did, where round #3 seemed to have been waiting for me when I walked through my apartment door.

Food poisoning, had to be, I convinced myself. And yet, whenever I stood up, I was on the verge of passing out and felt like someone was stabbing me in the gut. The only relief I had was sitting down or laying down.

This went on for 2 more days; not so much the violently expelling of my daily food content (though every evening I did seem to do this), but the pain. If I was standing, I was doubled over in pain. If I was sitting or laying down, I was fine. I couldn't even make it through cooking dinner for my kids one night, I was in so much pain. Our nightly walks were cut short because I felt like some demon had inhabited my stomach and was trying to make a home.

On what should have been the 4th day of this, I performed an experiment. I woke up that morning and had a bowl of oatmeal before my workout. Came home and had my smoothie, but for lunch that day, I had a sub sandwich, with whole wheat bread. For dinner that night, I had a side of whole wheat pasta with my meal. Honestly, I was scared to death of this experiment. I had brainwashed myself into thinking I would wake up the next morning and gained 5 pounds back because of the carbs. But, I had to do this, to see.

I stayed pain free all day, and the next morning, I hadn't gained any weight at all. I was extremely shocked. I had been killing myself; my pain and failure of my entire digestive track was directly linked to my diet. I added carbs back, healthy, whole wheat and whole grain carbs, yes, in moderation, and no more pain.

That little mini-epiphany was so freeing.

(I'm getting to my big epiphany, I promise. It's right around the corner.)

So, I have been eating healthy, with carbs, and enjoying not being doubled over in pain. The scale, however, didn't move at all in a week (I do a weekly weigh in, only having broken it that first day after introducing carbs to see if there was a change). I started to get very frustrated. I had a number in my head that I wanted that scale to reach, and a limited amount of time to do it in, and not losing any weight in a week wasn't going to help me get there. Sure, my daily workouts gave me energy to make it through my day, and sure I was in a much better mood overall, and sure, I didn't feel like a shapeless lazy blob anymore, but damnit, the scale said I wasn't making any progress.

I had read about plateaus, and how some people say you have to shake your routine up to get past them, and other people say that, if the plateau is near your goal weight, then that plateau occurs at your healthy body weight, even if it's not what you think your healthy body weight is. Seriously? I've been working out for 2 weeks... I can't have plateaued already. I'll just have to work harder, maybe throw in a workout before bed or something, push myself harder while I'm in the gym, restrict my eating a little bit more, something.

Fast forward to last night. I'm on pinterest, on this woman's healthy body image board, and it hits me...

I have body image perception problems. I don't need to lose weight, I need to reprogram the way I see myself, because apparently, what I saw in the mirror wasn't what everyone around me sees.

I'm 5'5" and currently 140 pounds, a size 9/10 or 11/12 depending on the brand. There is nothing wrong with that. And yes, I have cellulite and stretch marks, but what 30-something year old doesn't? Hell, what healthy 20-something year old doesn't? If a picture shows no cellulite or stretch marks, it's been photoshopped (another eye-opener from that board I found on pinterest).

Source: tsutpen.blogspot.com via Morgan on Pinterest

This time last year, due to stress, I was 120 pounds. My family hadn't seen me in over 6 months, and when they first laid eyes on me, all I heard was, 'Holy crap, you need to eat a cheeseburger' and 'Honey, you are skin and bones.' Sure, I was on the skinny side, I'll admit that, but I thought I looked good.

I have 1 picture from a year ago, and when I look at it now, I tear up. I was a skeleton with skin. And, for whatever reason, I thought I was amazing looking, and was trying to get back to that. What the hell is wrong with me? Why would I ever want to get back to that? I never ate, smoked a pack of cigarettes a day, never had energy, and was unhappy.

And yet now, with an ass that I've never had before that actually fills out jeans, and curvy hips, I'm exercising and dieting to lose it, to reach some number that I have set in my head as being my 'ideal weight'. What the hell? All the while, Hubby is telling me he loves my ass and my extra weight at it turns him on. But, I guess all I heard was 'Blah blah blah, extra weight means I'm fat.'

I thought back to the last few weeks, to interactions with my daughter, and started crying. 'Mom, do I have a fat stomach?' 'Mom, am I going to get fat if I eat this ice cream? Because you never eat ice cream.' 'Mom, do I need to go to the gym with you?'

She's 10. What in the hell have I done? I've allowed her to see me freaking out about my weight, when I don't have a fucking weight problem in the first place. My daughter is skinny- healthy skinny. She's athletic as hell and has the metabolism of, well, an active 10 year old. And she's beautiful- strangers tell me that (and yes, we walk away from them as quickly as possible with a 'Thanks' and an awkward 'I'm-getting-my-kid-away-from-you-in-case-you-are-a-perv' smile). Yet, because she's watching me view myself in such an unhealthy manner, she's now viewing herself that way.

I can't have it. I can't live my life by a number on a scale. I can't have the line of thinking anymore that, 'Well, I don't fit into my jeans that I did a year ago, so I need to diet and exercise to get into them'. A year ago I was probably the most unhealthiest I had ever been in my life... smoking, drinking, not eating, and extremely unhappy. Now I'm smoke free, don't drink, exercising, eating healthy, and have realized that my husband is my best friend and we're putting our family back together, which makes me the happiest woman alive. Why would I want to do anything the way I did a year ago, be anything that I was a year ago? Fuck this.

It's time to take those size 6 jeans to Goodwill. It's time to buy some clothes that fit me, that make my rockin' ass look even better (considering I've never had an ass in my life, seriously, I had that flat-ass syndrome, and jeans have always just hung off of me), that accentuate my curvy hips, that make me look, on the outside, as amazing as I feel on the inside.

Source: healthyfitandtoned.tumblr.com via Morgan on Pinterest

Will I continue my workouts each morning after the kids go to school? Yes, I will, because I like that 30 minutes of me-time. I like the way (an easy) workout makes me feel, the energy it gives me, and I like the idea of being more healthy. But my workouts will no longer be focused on how many calories I can burn or how hard I can push myself to reach that unhealthy number on the scale.

Will I continue to eat healthy? Of course. I don't want to have to re-buy a wardrobe in a larger size in 2 months because I sat around and ate cupcakes and chips all day. Eating healthy gives me energy, too, makes me feel good. But will I have cotton candy with the kids or take them out for ice cream? Hell yes I will.

I have been cussing Hubby since he left; whenever he visits, I gain weight. I've thought, this whole time, that it was a bad thing. I'm thinking now it was a blessing, that it was the universe saying, 'Hey, hooker, you are too freaking skinny. We're sending your husband to you for a little while- eat, have fun, laugh, cook together, relax, and just be happy... that's the way we're helping you get one step closer to being yourself again. Forget the last year of your life, and start over new... with 20 pounds of healthy weight on you. We're giving you curves, now rock them.'

And I will. Oh yes, I will rock the hell out of my new curves, because they are me, they are healthy, and they teach my daughter to love her body, no matter what shape it takes. This isn't all about me; it's about her, too. If I'm happy in my body, that teaches her to have a healthy body image, and I don't want her, 20 years down the road, to be healthy, skinny, and be looking in the mirror and seeing fat rolls here and squishy thighs there, like I do. It's ridiculous.

Like my ass. Seriously, it's ridiculous, in a good way. This epiphany has made me see it in a whole new light, like, a 'holy shit, I have an ass' light. It's time to show it off... no, not by mooning people... not entirely, at least.

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Moving Requires Lots of Lube... Part 2

2012-05-04T08:19:00.000-04:00

I'm a military wife. You'd think by now I'd be used to this ish.

Moving sucks. Really sucks. And no matter how many times I go through this, it doesn't seem to get any easier. I mean hell, the kids and I moved 5 times in one calendar year. 85% of my stuff is still packed in boxes in a storage unit, and this move isn't any easier than any of them before.

Flying = Money

When I made the cross country move over a year ago, my interaction with the moving companies prompted me to write Moving Requires Lots of Lube. This year so far, the moving company situation is being kind to us, though Hubby is handling that part of it. Plus, we haven't gotten too far in that process yet, so there might be a part 3 to this post for all I know, later on.

No, this year, the airlines are having their way with us. (And for the record, I'm glad that the airlines are taking advantage of 'us' this year, and not just 'me'. Moving cross country as a single mom sucked, but having Hubby involved now, even 2000 miles away, means that I'm not alone this time around. The need for lube is being divided between the both of us.)

When the kids and I moved a year and a half ago, 4 one way tickets (we had Z with us) plus insurance and fees ran $800. This year, each one way ticket is $350, meaning we're up to $1050 for 3 people, and that doesn't include insurance or any fees.

No hugs, no kisses, no nothing. The airlines certainly aren't reaching for any lube to make this easier.

Of course I googled why in the hell the tickets have more than doubled in price in just a little over a year.
For one, fuel prices have skyrocketed. Secondly, we're traveling in June instead of February like last time. Apparently the airlines assume we're going on vacation instead of trying to put our family back together.

Don't get me wrong... on the other side of this move are endless foot rubs, back massages, hugs, kisses, getting laid again (thank goodness, I'm becoming a serious bitch), help with the kids on a regular basis, a pool in the apartment complex, a steady income, more time with my kids, and a whole family unit for the first time in years... so yeah, I guess the airlines could say that's a vacation, dammit. But, it's my life, a life I want to get to as soon as possible, as painlessly as possible, and not at what will probably be $1200 or $1300 to obtain.

Most definitely without the airlines trying to take advantage of my fragile being.

Hubby and I are already stressed beyond belief, pinching every penny we can to make sure we can make this move in 6 weeks, and that was with the estimate of $800 for flight tickets. This new estimate has sent me curled up in the corner, sucking on my thumb, feeling violated as hell.

Have I mentioned yet that it's $125 for each cat, too, and we're taking 2 cats? No? Oh, sorry. I'm begging the airlines to just make this quick. I'm a big girl, I can take it.

So, moving never gets easier. Maybe after I've gone through the storage unit, figured out the movers situation, and secured the lube-needed airline tickets I will have a different opinion. Then again, by the time that's all done, I'll practically be in Arizona.

Sheesh. If I had known I was going to be moving this much, I seriously would have bought stock in lube. Then I'd have the money we need to move. Hmph, irony's a bitch.

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Where Are the Mothers? The Inklings First Vlog Post!

2012-05-03T07:48:00.000-04:00

It took some time, but it's finally done. I promised you all a Vlog post if we reached the top 25 over at Top Mommy Blogs, and here it is. It's my first ever vlog post, so go easy on me!

The topic I chose was Where Are the Mothers?

I had fun with this one. So without further ado, here it is... me, real, live, unscripted... did I mention nervous as hell shooting this? Yeah, I was. Holy crap I was. But, that's just for you all to know!

I went ahead and started The Inklings of Life Youtube Page, but if anything goes on it, I will make sure to post it here.

I hope you all enjoy! Thanks to all of my readers who vote daily, and got us into the Top 25. Votes count each day, so keep it up (we're at 23 today)! I want to be able to do a vlog post again, a little more refined or with more gadgets next time! Should be interesting!

If you enjoy Inklings, please take a second to just click the banner below. Each click = 1 vote, and you can vote once per 24 hours. We finally made it to the Top 25, so please help to keep us there!

Becoming a 'Screw You' Mom

2012-05-01T11:09:00.001-04:00

I'm on the internet this morning, researching for what I thought was going to be my next blog post, and I got up to make a cup of coffee. There on the counter is The Ginger's lunch. Yeah, the kids left for school an hour ago. What am I doing about it?

Nothing.

I put it back in the fridge, and continued making my cup of coffee. I have the day off from work, and nothing planned except dying my hair, laundry and reading more of the book I was sent to review.

I know some of you moms reading this are like, 'Oh my gosh, you have to go take him his lunch.'

No, I don't. By law, the state has to feed him a lunch. It will be peanut butter and jelly, milk, and a piece of fruit, but it's lunch. And yes, I will owe $1.20 for that sandwich tomorrow, which I will pay for. My son plays in the morning. 'Ginger, get your socks on; Ginger, get your shoes; Ginger, put your homework folder in your book bag; Ginger, get your lunch.' That's a typical morning for me. So, The Ginger knows what he has to do every morning. He knows he shouldn't walk out of the house without his lunch, and yet, this morning he was so distracted by his Legos that he forgot it. There are consequences to his actions, and he needs to learn that.

Mothering styles are just as diverse as mothers themselves.

Suddenly, a lightbulb came on, and I ran to my computer and started typing. (Crap, my coffee is still sitting below the Keurig... need to get that...). This book that I'm reviewing brings up different types of moms, and so many articles on the internet are written about the same thing. Some articles say there are 5 mom types, some say 6, some say 11.

When I saw my son's lunch sitting there and decided to do nothing about it, I briefly wondered what type of mom that made me. Then it hit me:

Why the hell are we moms put into categories?

Various articles said there are Helicopter Moms who hover over their every children's move, Lazy Moms who let the kids pretty much do whatever, Tiger Moms who are all about pushing their kids to be successful, Hippy Moms who are all about creating a loving, peaceful environment to raise their kids, Best Friend Moms who would rather be pals with their kids than moms, Super Moms who think of everything, prepare for it, and handle it with grace, Hypothetical Moms who make their kids think for themselves and learn consequences for their actions, and the list goes on and on.

Um, yeah, that's me. All of those. It all depends on the situation, my mood, how much my kids have annoyed me that day... Yeah.

The articles seemed to have forgotten the Bitch Mom who says no to everything and just needs to be grounded to her room with cheesecake and wine (usually happens at the same time every month), and the Yes Mom who is scared to death of her kids growing up to hate her, so she says yes to everything. Some days I'm those moms, too.

And none of the articles at all included a Happy Mom who doesn't necessarily fit into any category because she's doing the best she possibly can, and as long as her kids are happy and well adjusted, she really doesn't give a crap what type of mom she is. On the flip side of that, I didn't see on any lists a Worry Mom who is constantly in a state of panic that she's screwing her kids up, so she over thinks every mom move she's ever made and will ever make.

Hey, good to know Madonna is a
Screw You Mom, too!

Damn, I'm those two moms on any given day, too.

So, what do we moms do about society trying to nitpick our mothering techniques and categorize us? We become a Screw You Mom. Screw You for trying to judge me, for trying to say that one mothering technique is any better than another, for trying to analyze my kids based on what mothering technique you think I have, for trying to take everything I do as a mother and put it into one nice, neat, little category, for comparing me to other moms, for trying to make me doubt or question how I have chosen to raise my kids.

If I want to hover over my child's every move one day, and let them spread their wings and fly the next, I will. If I want to drive my kid's lunch to him one day, and refuse to do so to teach him a lesson in responsibility the next time, I will. I will do what I feel is best for my kids at that time, and as we all know, times change. So for me, what's good one day isn't necessarily good for the next. And no one is going to tell me differently.

So that's me, a Screw You Mom. I'm doing my best here, and so far my kids are well adjusted. Hell, my techniques haven't killed them, so I'm doing something right. But, any given day I'm any of the moms listed above, so don't try and put me into a box. I don't like boxes. Boxes turn me into Angry Mom and no one wants to deal with her, I promise, because there's a chance she can turn into Burying Bodies Mom.

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Big Decision Made... Let the Kegels Begin!

2012-04-30T07:00:00.000-04:00

Wish it was that simple.

In all of the hustle and bustle of Hubby coming home, The Ginger's surgery, and just life in general, I realized I have forgotten to update you Inklingers on what Hubby and I finally decided for, well, our future together.

As a quick recap, for those that have just joined us, Hubby lives 2000 miles away (we were separated, then we decided to get our heads out of our asses and make this marriage and family work), we had a tentative plan of him moving here with us, then My Epiphany and How Badly it Sucks happened, and we decided to wait until he came to visit for The Ginger's surgery and kids' spring break to make our major life decision.

The kids and I are moving to Arizona. Yep, I'm quitting my tattoo artist day job (but not my ninja assassin night job- that's needed out west, too), and going back to being a stay at home mom. You know what that means?

All craziness and hell is going to break loose on Inklings. Oh yeah, it's going to be AWESOME! Hella fun stories about me and the PTA, and volunteering in my kids' classrooms, and having to walk 3 flights of stairs to do laundry in Hubby's apartment complex, and my first ever summer with the kids where I haven't worked, and how effing hot it is in Arizona, and how one adjusts to repairing their marriage after 3 years of being separated, and becoming a military wife again. I can't wait!

This is all going down in about 7 weeks... holy shit, right? I have to pack up an apartment, go through storage items, have it all shipped, ship my car, make sure the cats are up to date on their shots and get them fixed, and so much more, in just 7 weeks. All while working for the next 6 weeks and saving all of the money we can to move cross country.

Do you know how much it costs to move cross country? An ass load. Especially when you factor in the cost of lube. What? Lube? Yeah, that's from an old post... Moving Requires Lots of Lube.

Anyway, then, once the day actually comes, I have to fly, solo this time, with 2 kids. I normally take valium
when I fly, but it's kinda hard to be drugged up on anti-mom-panic-attack pills and take care of 2 kids for a cross country flight, which I know will have a layover somewhere. So, it will be time, once again, to buck up and be a woman with a vagina of steel.

All of the stress, the worry, everything, will all be worth it, because on the other side of this journey is my Hubby and putting our family back together. Having help disciplining the kids, being able to cuddle on the couch and watch movies, foot rubs, spooning while we sleep, being able to storm off into the bedroom, slam the door and say, 'You deal with the kids right now or else I'm killing someone!', cooking together, laughing, joking, kissing, family outings, everything. And Hubby and I starting the new beginning to the rest of our lives.

Because let me tell you, I'm not going through this again. I'll kill him before I go through this moving cross country with the kids bullshit another time. And, I watch a lot of crime shows; I know how to make it look like an accident.

I'm sure it won't come to that extreme, though. Hubby and I have been doing great. Sure, we're 2000 miles away from each other at the moment, but any mom who has a husband that has to travel for work knows that a lot of the times, the miles and time apart cause friction and arguments. I'm not saying Hubby and I don't bite at each other every now and then, but it's nowhere near the way it used to be.

My family, back together

So yes, we decided to take the route that has the kids and I moving to Arizona, and if you read the pros and cons in the Epiphany post above, you'll see that means being away from extended family, doing 6 more years in the military and putting up with all that military life entails. But, we'll be financially secure, with benefits, not worrying about income from a commission job, the kids will have their mom around 24/7, and in just a few years we'll have a retirement check to help us out. The decision we made settles me to my inner core.

I just wonder what I'm going to do with myself while the kids are in school. I've toyed with the idea of taking some online classes or going to a community college. Maybe I'll write... who wouldn't want to read a book about the crazy ass stuff I post? Ha! That's pretty humorous in itself...

Honestly, it doesn't really matter right now. I'm concentrating on doing what I need to do to get my family back together again, which is a lot. Like, a shit ton lot. Almost overwhelming lot.

Time to put my big girl panties on and start turning this vagina into steel.

Can that be done with kegels? Just curious...

If you enjoy Inklings, please take a second to just click the banner below. Each click = 1 vote, and you can vote once per 24 hours. Please help Inklings get into the top 25 (we're in the 30s right now) and a vlog post has been promised!