People I Want to Punch in the Throat

Well Done, Angelina

2013-05-15T11:56:00.003-05:00

Like the rest of the world, I woke up yesterday morning to the news that Angelina Jolie had written an OpEd in the New York Times detailing her decision to have a double mastectomy as a precaution against cancer.

I had a lot of thoughts on this one.

I'm not a huge fan of Angelina. I've blogged about her before and I've always been Team Jennifer (Aniston) vs. Team Angelina, BUT I think that what she's done is really commendable. She took control of her body and her health and made some really important decisions. She has a truckload of kids she needs to take care of and she's putting them first and she wants to be around to see her grandkids.

Plus, she got a whole new discussion about breast cancer started and I think any discussion about breast cancer is a good one.

I was disappointed to find out that the test she took to determine she carries the BRCA gene mutation costs $3,000 and is often denied coverage by insurance companies. I know that she's speaking out about her surgery and today she allowed her doctor to share information about her medical treatment. Her doctor indicated that women with a high risk can typically get this test covered. I've been hearing some horror stories of women who have been denied though. I hope the next step is for Angelina to wield her power and take on the insurance companies and pressure them to cover this test.

I was shocked and surprised like everyone else. I'm not sure why, though. It's not like Angelina and I are tight and I see her every day. I don't know why I feel like it was any of my business what Angelina and her boobs have been up to. I was also surprised that she underwent such an invasive surgery. Especially, when she's so well known for her figure. The fact that she would do this and then share her story with the world, tells me that it was not a decision she took lightly.

And then last night, I got pissed. I was trolling around reading stuff on the 'net last night when I stumbled upon tons and tons of assholes who were RIP-ing Angelina's breasts. WTF is wrong with people? First, there were the dickheads mourning Brad's "loss" (as if Angelina's breasts were his property) and then there were the bitches coming out of the wood work blaming Angelina's karma. This sort of thing just infuriates me. It just shows that this world (or maybe it's just Twitter) is populated by idiots and douchebags.

I read today that some doctors are concerned that Angelina's story might encourage more women to have preventative mastectomies that aren't necessary in early stage breast cancers. You know what? These are my breasts and if I have cancer (even early stage) and I want to lop them off so I can sleep better at night knowing that my cancer risks are lowered, then I'll do it. They're not that important to me. My breast don't define me. I believe that Angelina really did her research and figured out a medical plan that was best suited to her. I admire her for empowering other women in the same situation. I'm not a high risk for breast or ovarian cancer, but if I was, you better believe I'd get that test done - even if I had to put it on a credit card.

At the end of all this controversy I see a mom who cares enough about herself and her family to make a life changing decision that will affect her family and career for the rest of their lives. I applaud her choice and I think she does not deserve a punch in the throat.

If you like what you read, please follow me on Facebook or Twitter!

Let's Celebrate ALL Moms This Mother's Day

2013-05-10T12:04:00.000-05:00

It's Mother's Day this weekend and I've been thinking about all of the mothers that I love to poke fun at. This is the one day of the year when I don't care how you raise your child, because for those 24 hours we are sisters in solidarity. So, I'm wishing every one out there a Happy Mother's Day and I hope you all get what you want.

If I were handing out gifts, these are the gifts that I would give:

1. Celebrity Moms - A gorgeous "impromptu" photo op of you and the kiddos frolicking in a pristine meadow and/or sharing a delicious wholesome picnic lunch that can then be sold for the cover of an upcoming issue of Hello! or People magazine where they don't mention your penchant for pre-chewing your baby's food or the fact that you're just a "normal" mom who can't pretend to live on $25,000 a year (I'm pretty sure what's what the wood burning pizza oven in back yard cost).

2. Granola Moms - A day of no one staring at you while you breast feed your preschooler, wearing your new breast milk jewelry at your friend's natural birth where you help her become a mother for the first time surrounded by the strong women in her life who will then stick around and help her sew her own lotus bag and preserve her placenta.

3. Hipster Moms - An Instagram feed full of moms and children in lots of ironic shirts, nerd glasses, chevron, mustaches, and anything else that is already "cool" that I don't know about yet, while you wear your new pair of vintage sensible shoes.

4. Overachieving Moms - An ah-may-zing day full of glue guns, glitter, elaborate tea parties in the garden with themes like Marie Antoinette or Rustic Elegance, all topped off with a visit from your Elf bringing you a new strand of pearls (you can never have too many).

5. Book Moms - A cozy chair, drinks, snacks, a fully loaded Kindle, and 24 hours to read in uninterrupted bliss and comfort.

6. Moms Who Drink and Swear - A bottle of Jack and Chore Coupons that are really rules for a drinking game.

7. Helicopter Moms - A cellphone pre-programmed with the contact information for every one of your child's teachers (even if your child is in college), doctors/specialists and nearby ERs and pharmacies, your child's friends, friends of those friends, and a GPS locator chip for your kid's head so that you can know where he is at all times, who he is with, and what they are doing/saying/thinking.

8. Free Range Moms - A visit to an unknown city where you can give your kids a Greyhound bus schedule, a ticket, and a cell phone and challenge them to a race home.

9. Sanctimommies - Unlimited wifi where you can keep all of your Facebook friends updated hourly about how sad you feel for the mommies (like me) who want to be left alone all day, because it's a real shame these mean mommies can't be just like you spending the whole time with your children reveling in the magic and beauty of these little creations that you are responsible for.

10. Tiger Moms - A full day of listening to the sweet sounds of violin and/or piano practice, geography and math quizzes, and Chinese lessons, along with plenty of left over time for public humiliation and shaming.

11. My Mom - My mom is the easiest. Years ago when I still lived at home and every day was a day spent with my brother and me bugging her for something, I know she would have loved a day to herself where she could read, watch chick flicks, and be pampered. Now that she's a grandma, I would give her a day with all of her grandchildren where she can spoil them rotten with junk food, silly movies, messy crafts, and be on the receiving end of a thousand sticky hugs and kisses.

We all may have different ideas of what makes a great Mother's Day, but I think there is one thing we can ALL agree on:

Source

Happy (Lice Free) Mother's Day to every mother out there!!

Your turn. Tell me what YOU want for Mother's Day!

If you like what you read, please follow me on Facebook or Twitter!

Abercrombie & Fitch

2013-05-07T19:13:00.002-05:00

Wow. My mind was blown today. A friend sent me this article about Abercrombie & Fitch.

Do you remember shopping there when you were in college? I sure do. (Do they still smell like a junior high dance where the boys put on waaaay too much of dad's cologne and they play the music so loud you might get permanent hearing loss?) In fact, I think I still have my classic Abercrombie sweatshirt in my closet. Well, apparently, we shopped at A&F back when they were selling "fuddy duddy" clothes. (That sounds about right for me. I have rarely been on the cutting edge of fashion.) Nowadays, A&F has this total jackhole, Mike Jeffries, running the company and he's doing a really kick ass job (stock price is up, sales are up, new stores everywhere, blah, blah, blah) and he has a secret to his success: he only hires beautiful, thin "cool kids" so that they will only attract other beautiful, thin "cool kids" to shop at his stores, because he doesn't want losers even setting a hairy, fugly foot in his hallowed halls. And just in case the message didn't get through to the uncool, the ugly, and the fat people that there is nothing here for you, Mike wants to make it clear that you're not welcome and so he has decreed that the women's clothing line will not carry clothing bigger than a size L or 10.

“In every school there are the cool and popular kids, and then there are the not-so-cool kids,” he told [Salon.com]. “Candidly, we go after the cool kids. We go after the attractive all-American kid with a great attitude and a lot of friends. A lot of people don’t belong [in our clothes], and they can’t belong. Are we exclusionary? Absolutely." - Mike Jeffries

When I first read this article, I didn't know if I was more impressed with the fact that Jeffries owns his asshole ways or if I was more disgusted that he's such a fucking dickhead who is desperately trying to hold on to his glory days of high school. (Actually, I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that Mikey was a total la-hooo-zer back in the day. Look at how hard he's fought for those bulging biceps and how much he's paid for those sun-kissed locks - and eyebrows WTF? - and bee-stung lips. He looks like a genetically engineered geriatric douchebag.) He's an absolute creeper and I don't care how much he owns his actions, they're unacceptable.

I'm a dick, duude, but I'm OK with that, because I'm a coooool dick who hates losers and fat people.

When we have young women all over this country suffering from poor body image, I am disgusted that companies like this exist and are flourishing. A size 10 is big?? And it's not just the girls either. I've spent enough summers at the public pool to know that the average teenage boy doesn't have the chiseled body featured in A&F's steamy ad campaigns. (Luckily, they do make men's XL clothes, though, mostly to cater to the beefier athletes.)

For Jeffries to come right out and say his company philosophy is to be "exclusionary" makes me want to scream and burn my (Size XL) Abercrombie sweatshirt in effigy and break things (preferably a display of polo shirts at my local A&F). I am trying to raise children in this world who have a sense of self worth (that doesn't come from their stupid fucking jeans) and he continues to do what ever he can to make children feel excluded. Yes, teenagers are still children. And when a major company tells a teenager that they're not worthy of shopping at their store because her ass is too big what does that say to her? Believe me, she's already self conscious about that ass, she doesn't need Abercrombie & Fitch telling her that she's too horrible to buy a pair of their jeans. Nice work, dickhead.

In the 1990s Jeffires took over a dying company that sold "fuddy duddy" clothes and turned it into the Mecca of Morons. Reading the articles and looking through the photos of Jeffries and his young employees, made me feel sick to my stomach. This company embodies everything I despise. Ignorant, selfish, entitled, foolish, arrogant, elitist assholes who sit around with their fellow douchey "dudes" in their perfectly (identically) ripped jeans and their stupid fucking racist/sexist t-shirts with gems like "Tig Ole Bitties" and "Two Wongs Make a White" and yuk it up about raiding mommy's medicine cabinet or maxing out daddy's credit card while their asshole parents neglect them to spend time on the slopes or at the beach.

These are the same kids who tweet racist shit and tell their sorority sisters to stop being so fucking boring when frat boys are around. These are the same kids who received Participation Awards for every fucking thing in their lives and have that shit lined up on a shelf in their room, because that reminds them that they're precious snowflakes. These are the same kids who kill referees at soccer games. I hate these people more than you know.

My children are not old enough to grace the abs-infested aisles of A&F just yet, but the first time either of my kids asks for anything from this store, I will say Hell Fucking No. I realize that won't matter much to Mr. Jeffries. After all, I'm way too old, fat, short, and ugly to be allowed in his store. (I'm surprised he doesn't have bouncers at the door to turn away people like me.) He doesn't care what I think, because I'm not his clientele. Well, that's too bad, because he should care about me and other mothers like me. I am a mother who will influence and educate my kids about shopping consciously. I will raise kids like these girls who "girlcott" places like A&F. I will explain to my kids that we don't support companies that sexualize teens or marginalize people. We will put our money where our mouths are and we will buy our perfectly distressed $100 jeans ANYWHERE else, but A&F.

A&F can kiss my fat ass!

If you have not watched this video, check it out. Greg has a great solution to dealing with AF clothes. #fitchthehomeless.

UPDATE: A Change.org Petition has been started asking Abercrombie & Fitch CEO Mike Jeffries to Stop telling teens they aren't beautiful; make clothes for teens of all sizes! You can sign it here.

Another Change.org Petition has been started asking the Board of Directors to remove Abercrombie & Fitch CEO Mike Jeffries! You can sign it here.

If you like what you read, please follow me on Facebook or Twitter!

Weekly Wrap Up 5.5.13

2013-05-05T08:19:00.002-05:00

This week has been crazy busy. In fact, I think this is just going to be my life for the next several months. If you didn't read my BIG news from last week, let me fill you in. I signed a publishing contract with Random House and I have two books coming out in a year and a half. That means it's time for Jen to get cracking. I've got my kids in school for about four more weeks so I need to hit it hard while they're gone all day and my house is empty and sort of silent (the Hubs is still here and I can hear him breathing). That means I'll probably be a bit quiet around here for a little while. Don't despair, though. I say I'll be quiet, but you know you can't shut me up even if you wanted to.

Speaking of shutting me up, I will be performing live and on stage (oh shit) next Saturday at the Unity Temple on the Plaza. That's right, it's finally time for Listen to Your Mother. We practiced today and it's going to be a great show. I can't tell you what I'm going to read, but I can promise you that you will laugh at mine. And then you'll cry a little and laugh some more and nod along in agreement and you might even shout "Amen!" (we will be in a church after all ) when my fellow cast mates get up there to read their fantastic pieces. Tickets are $12 in advance and $15 at the door. I hope you'll come and support us. It's going to be a great night.

Top Read Posts This Week:

Douchey Dads - This was an oldie, but goody. I know that DDs can be found in just about every town, city, suburb across the land, so I know you all can relate this one.

Adolpha Gives Me Advice on Love - My daughter the sage. For a girl who never wants to get married or have kids, this girl sure pays a lot of attention to relationships. (Maybe this is why she never wants to get married or have kids!) Thanks to her, I've stepped up my game.

Rebecca Martinson - The Crazy Delta Gamma - Rebecca blew her fucking top and it will probably haunt her for many years. This is a fucking cautionary tale to the youth.

Some BIG News - Yeah, I told you the news already at the beginning of this post. Still worth a read though. Thanks to everyone for their kind comments!

Book News:

I Just Want to Pee Alone is doing grrrrrreat. My co-authors and I are thrilled with the response. Thanks to everyone who has bought a copy - or two - or ten! If you haven't left us a review on Amazon yet, please do so. We need them so we can feel pretty. If you haven't bought the book yet, you really need to. This is a great book for Mother's Day. Especially if your mother has a sense of humor. This is also a perfect baby shower gift. I'm going to a shower next weekend and you can bet she's going to get a copy.

My Favorite Comments of the Week (and My Replies if Necessary):

Words have meanings. Rebecca Martinson knew what she was saying, and she also thought she was entitled enough to say them without experiencing a negative response. But I can't think of a person alive who would LIKE to be viciously scolded in front of and along with a house full of twenty or thirty roommates (or howevermany), and find it even less of a probability that one of those scolded wouldn't take some kind of retributive action. I do kind of feel bad for her, but not because she's been kicked out of her house and has become an internet pariah. I think she's earned that. I feel bad for her because she's got a lot of unresolved crazy-making rage issues (just read the screen shots of her (now defunct) Twitter feed), and that can't be an easy way to live. But don't worry about her! Surely in a year or so she'll be a reality TV star, happily demonstrating her knack for the cunt-punt on a national basic cable network (I'm looking at you, TLC; maybe a road show with her and Honey on Rebecca Martinson - The Crazy Delta Gamma

As sad as it sounds, I'd probably watch that show. Damn it, I'm such an idiot!

Congratufuckinglations! haha! Way to go! One question: did you have that same mouth at five? on Some BIG News

You know I did, motherclucker. Don't forget to bring the cock 'n candy next week to Listen to Your Mother!

As someone who knew you back when you were just my funny as shit wisecracking IRL friend I am couldn't be more excited and a bit proud! As women we need to support each other in our post-motherhood goals and I am happy to have been an original fan of the blog who helped get the word out! on Some BIG News

Rebecca Martinson - The Crazy Delta Gamma

2013-05-02T12:52:00.002-05:00

I've been kind of busy, so I'm a little late to the party about the sorority girl from Maryland who wrote this scathing email to her sorority sisters. WARNING! Her email makes me sound like a sweet mouthed angel. If you can't fucking handle some adult fuckity fuck fucking fuck language then you can't read her email.

OK, so have you read it? Had you heard about this one yet? Well, in case you've been on a deserted island for the past two weeks I'll bring you up to speed. So, this girl was pissed off at her fellow Delta Gamma sisters because she'd heard through the Greek grapevine they were being “so fucking boring” when they hung out with the (allegedly) amazeballs Sigma Nu so she wrote them an email that would make me blush and basically told them to stop being so fucking boring or else she'd “cunt punt” them (her words, not mine, but they're kind of brilliant, no?) across campus as well as assault them or something like that.

It was a big brouhaha, because one of her dear sisters leaked the email to the media and everyone went wild and wanted this chick's blood.

Now, I have to say when I first read the email, I laughed my ass off. It's actually kind of funny. Her rage is so out of control it's comical. Also, you can almost feel her spittle on your face when she says stuff like:

"I've not only gotten texts about people being fucking WEIRD at sports (for example, being stupid shits and saying stuff like "durr what's kickball?" is not fucking funny), but I've gotten texts about people actually cheering for the opposing team. The opposing. Fucking. Team. ARE YOU FUCKING STUPID?!! I don't give a SHIT about sportsmanship, YOU CHEER FOR OUR GODDAMN TEAM AND NOT THE OTHER ONE, HAVE YOU NEVER BEEN TO A SPORTS GAME? ARE YOU FUCKING BLIND?"

She is like a rabid toddler with a trucker's vocabulary! She probably was like this when she was a toddler, "SHARING SUCKS AND I WILL CUT THE NEXT MOTHERFUCKER WHO TRIES TO TAKE MY SNACK!! FUCK YOU, GET YOUR OWN COOKIES."

Everyone was so freaked out by this girl and her fucking craziness, but I was kind of torn on the email initially. I didn't mind the language (duh - or should I say durr) and I kind of understood where she was coming from. I've been in charge of many a group of apathetic people and there have been so many times I would have loved to send an email in a similar vein. Can you imagine being in charge of the school carnival and no one wants to work at it, because they're all “too busy” or better yet, they “want to enjoy the carnival with their kids” and meanwhile you haven't seen your family in weeks, because you've been planning the fucking thing so that they can go and have fun with their kids?? Yeah, my guess is the school carnival organizer would like to send an email much like this one and tell parents to get off their asses and help her or else the fucking carnival will be cancelled and they can call Krustee the Clown and tell him he won't be making his rent this month.

BUT, the carnival organizer never sends that email, because she realizes that as much as she'd love to go scorched earth on everyone, that is never going to accomplish anything. So instead, she just sits home and dreams of writing emails like this while she works the phones looking for more suckers to work the Dunk Tank.

Now, what I didn't like was the fact that this girl was yelling at her sisters, because a bunch of douche bag frat boys complained that they were “boring.” Uh … fuck you, frat boy, go entertain yourself. I've never been in a sorority (I know, surprise, surprise) for many reasons, but if I knew that one of the job descriptions was to keep douche bags "entertained" then I'm glad I never joined one, because I would have failed miserably. This is 2013, right? Because this complaint sounds like something right out of Mad Men. Actually, I know it's 2013, because these asshats issues their complaints via text message.

So, basically, this girl yelled at her sorority sisters, because a bunch of d-bags texted her and said her sisters were boring and then she turned around and wrote an email that ripped them all new ones, stitched them back up, and then ripped them again. Um, yeah, haven't you heard, Rebecca? Chicks before dicks. You don't ream your girls because they didn't adequately entertain a bunch of fucking morons. And the more I think about it “boring” is probably fucking douche code for “she wouldn't suck my dick, man.”

But, what sealed the deal for me and made me despise this girl, was my friend Rantsfrom Mommyland's post where she included racist and hateful text messages from our sweet sorority girl. Whoa.This shit just got real. This isn't funny anymore. This girl really IS nuts.

I just need to ask this girl: ARE YOU FUCKING RACIST AND INSANE, REBECCA?? Are you? This isn't a rhetorical question, you dumb fucking cunt. What is wrong with you? Were you dropped on your head as a baby? Were you? Because I think you might have been. You should probably make an appointment with a fucking neurologist get your fucking brain checked, because you are a complete and total twat waffle.

This bitch has offended just about every one you can. She's a spoiled, arrogant little piece of shit who really deserves all of the hate that she's received these last couple of weeks over the internet (and hopefully in person). No wonder one of her sisters leaked the email! Reading Rants from Mommyland and the girl's text messages made me realize that this bitch wasn't just some tired, overworked, and under appreciated girl like my imaginary carnival organizer. Nope, this a cunt who needs a punt.

If you want to see a hilarious reading of the post, check out Michael Shannon doing his reading.

Michael Shannon Reads the Insane Delta Gamma Sorority Letter from Michael Shannon

If you like what you read, please follow me on Facebook or Twitter!

Some BIG News

2013-04-30T08:08:00.001-05:00

So, remember when I told you it was a big week last week? I appeared on TV for the first time and I had my first book signing ever. Well, guess what? I have even BIGGER news for today. HUGE, I tell ya. HUGE.

I sold two books to Random House! Like, for real money! Not free Swiffers or a coffee mug (which is usually the currency I am offered for my writing). They are giving me American dollars! (I would have even accepted British pounds.) Crazy, right??

The first one: People I Want to Punch in the Throat: Telling It Like It Is (yeah, that's probably not what the publisher will let me call it, but a girl can dream) will be out in Spring 2014 and then, hold onto your knickers, because Spending the Holidays with People I Want to Punch in the Throat will be released in December 2014!!

Yep. They're re-releasing the Holidays book. But this time it's going to be bigger, better, faster (OK, not faster). I've got new chapters that I'm adding along with some new pictures.

Just think. If you have the current edition it's almost like having a collector's item. It could be worth fifty cents at your garage sale now instead of a quarter!

I've taken down the Holidays book from Amazon, et al. because I would feel like shit if someone bought it today and then read this and was like, "Well, I just wasted my money."

At 41 years old, the dreams and goals of a five-year-old girl are finally coming true. (Yep, I've wanted to see my book in a book store since I was five.) It took a long time, but it's finally here and I'm over the moon with excitement, joy, and gratitude. Thank you to all of YOU who have supported me, read me, left me comments, bought my books, left me reviews, referred a friend to me, shared me on Facebook, blogs, Twitter, message boards, Pinterest, and anywhere else you can share.

http://www.emilymcdowell.com

Weekly Wrap Up 4.28.13

2013-04-28T07:54:00.001-05:00

Whoa. What a week, you guys! I just finally got through all of the comments from this week. You guys are on fire!! Between Gwyneth and whether or not kids should have privacy, you had a lot to say!

I was a bit busy too. I made my television debut Friday to promote I Just Want to Pee Alone. Ack!!! Stacey from Nurse Mommy Laughs arranged for us to be on a local morning show this week. I was terrified. There is a reason why I write and I don't act. I was reading through all of the information about appearing on the show and they gave some helpful tips about what and what not to do. For instance, they recommended you wear bright colors. I just couldn't do that. Instead I chose to go with black and white, EVEN after their suggestion that black and white do not do well on TV. I'm not afraid to live on the edge like that. And when you watch the segment, you'll see that Stacey follows directions really well. She was in turquoise. Our host was in purple. Can you imagine if I'd thrown a pink in there? We would have looked like a basket of Easter eggs. I did wear a little sparkle though. I was wild!

Another suggestion that was made was to wear more makeup than usual. Well, since I don't wear much at all, I knew that meant A LOT more than usual. I was worried that I'd end up looking like a river boat madame or an escapee from clown college if I didn't get some professional help. On Thursday I spent two hours (and a hundred bucks) at the makeup counter in Macy's. The wonderfully patient and kind Karem taught me to apply just enough makeup to look a bit like a whore in person, but just right on television. It's a delicate balance, yo.

My daughter was mesmerized by my new look and couldn't get over how many products it took to look this good (not to mention the HOUR it took me to apply it). I think I've convinced her that lipgloss is good enough. My job is done.

Karem had to pull out all the stops and went for the BIG tray of eyeshadows.

When we arrived at the studio, we found out that Cindy Williams AKA "Shirley Feeney" was going to be on the show. Oh. My. God. Schlemiel schlimazel hasenpfeffer incorporated!! To a little girl of the 70s those zany broads were awesome! They empowered a whole generation with their theme song. I dare you not to sing it now. "We're gonna do it!!"

When she arrived I went all fan girl and goofy and said something like "Thank you for being funny and for empowering little girls." Basically, I just vomited sunshine and rainbows all over her, because I am an idiot. I am such an idiot that when we gave her a copy of I Just Want to Pee Alone and she asked us to sign it for her, I signed it to "Shirley." Yeah. I did that. Annnnd, it wasn't until that night when I finally watched the show and I saw the title bar come up under her picture saying "Cindy Williams" that I screamed, "Cindy???? Cindy???? Her name is is Cindy?!!! I did NOT write Cindy in that book. Oh shit. I signed it to 'Shirley'."

Soooo ... on the off chance you're reading this Ms. Williams, all I can say is, "Whoops. Sorry about that."

On Saturday (I told you it was a busy week!) I saw Stacey yet again (Are you sick of me yet, Stacey?) for my very first book signing. We were joined by Tara of You Know it Happens at Your House Too who found people kind enough and crazy enough to take her five kids for the weekend so she and Farmer Bob could trek it up to the Big City for a long weekend. It was a blast. We had a great turnout and we drank way too many mimosas.

I even bought new Lady Bic pens, because I thought they would help me come up with something more intelligent to write than, "Good stuff in here!"

GIVEAWAY WINNER!!!

I wrote a review for Moms Who Drink and Swear, Scary Mommy, and Crappy Pictures. I also promised I'd give a copy of each of their books to one lucky winner.

The winner is ::drum roll::

Shauna BApril 22, 2013 at 6:32 PM

Who wants to teach their kids how to have a stick stuck up their a$$ all their lives? Not me! You have to have a healthy sense of humor to parent because it's over in the blink of an eye and you'll be the a-hole parent who was more concerned with "proper" parenting than letting the kids have ice cream for dinner when it's 95 degrees and laughing at their arm fart noises. Besides, parenting is more fun when you laugh.
P.S. I love to read. I love moms with snarky humor and non stepford children. I love PIWTPITT. (Did that earn me enough points or should I keep going?)

Congratulations, Shauna B!!! Please email me at sweetsadiecreations@gmail.com to claim your prizes.

Top Read Posts This Week:

Why My Children Have No Right to Privacy - Parenting is hard and this right here is one of the reasons why. It's so difficult to know what is the right answer. We can just do our best.

Gwyneth Paltrow - Remember those commercials where that model would say, "Don't hate me because I'm beautiful" ? I feel like this is what Gwyneth keeps saying. I don't hate Gwyneth because she's beautiful, I can't stand her because she is an overachieving mother on crack. She raises the bar so high that NO ONE can reach it.

Ryan Lochte and his Mom - Jeah, this d-bag got his own television show this week. I haven't seen it yet, but once I do, you know there will be a review.

Lotus Birth Bags - One more way to out mom each other is to carry around your placenta in a stylish, yet functional bag!

Favorite Comments (and My Replies if Necessary):

Well... I think she's pretty, and I think she does a good job acting usually. That's about where my thinking of her ends. If she was my friend and did all that is claimed, I would force margaritas down her throat until she snapped out it. How bout the earrings on goop for $1250? One is a safety pin and one is the word "love"-they're both 18k - you'd think for $1250 they could've manage to eek out 2 "love" earrings. on Gwyneth Paltrow

I finally stopped reading those magazines because they are horseshit. I only like that one section they all have - "Stars: Just Like Us". It makes me laugh. Because apparently giving the nanny the day off and taking their own kid to the park makes them just like us peasants. I feel like it's worth noting that my husband doesn't think Gwynnie is pretty. But he tells me that I am all the time. So, he's pretty awesome. Or blind. I'm kind of torn on this one. on Gwyneth Paltrow

Exactly! I hate those sections! "Look at Halle Berry. She chews gum! She is just like us!" or "Look at Hugh Jackman. He swims in the ocean with his kids sometimes! Wow, what a fantastic dad! Just like us!"

I am sorry, but I have a total soft spot for Sliding Doors. John Hannah is adorable in that movie and I love the whole premise. In fact, my junior and senior years in college, it was on near constantly in my dorm. That being said, she does sound like a total douche, but she grew up in the biz, so I'm sure that contributed to it. on Gwyneth Paltrow

I do too! I think this is why I feel so betrayed by crazy Gwyneth. Between Sliding Doors and Emma I was a fan big time. I loved those two movies and I loved her in them.

This actually just reads as a jealous, close-minded, ignorant asshole. You many pass judgement but God forbid anyone point that mirror back to you. In reality this is just one step above mean girl status; actually it is mean girl status. You are downing someone who lives differently from you solely because you don't understand their lifestyle? Does it make you feel better about your life? I hope you're proud. And no, I'm not a GP fan. on Gwyneth Paltrow

Meow. Saucer of milk, table for two? You just devoted so much anger and bitterness towards a decision People magazine made. Don't call someone out for their pathetic "first world problems" without admitting you've got them, too. I do love reading your blog, but this one seems unnecessarily...something. I'm not a huge Gwen fan, but speculating on her when I don't have any idea about who she really, truly is feels like a waste of time. on Gwyneth Paltrow

These were two of my favorite negative comments. I'm always "jealous." It can never be anything but jealousy. I'm just a jealous, jealous harpy of a woman. I sit around all day just being jealous.

That's bullshit. I am not jealous of Gwyneth's life. I do not have any desire to work out for two hours a day with nothing for sustenance except a muffin made from tree bark and gravel. I have no desire to be married to a rock star who constantly tours and has panties thrown at him. I do not want to hang out with Beyonce and Jay-Z. I will admit, to a TINY twinge of jealousy when she gets to kiss Robert Downey, Jr. That little hunky fella has been on my list since middle school!

I didn't even need to address these comments, because I have awesome readers who "get" me and always defend me so much better than I could defend myself:

Of course Jen is happy to hear alternating viewpoints. But you don't seem to have one. Your viewpoint appears to be that b/c Jen wrote the article disagreeing with the pick and explaining her reasons why, in true PIWTPITT fashion, she is bitter and angry. She is angry, I guess, that People would choose someone who seems out of touch with the readership of the magazine. Jen very clearly makes fun of herself throughout this article (in fact, in most of her posts), she never acts like she doesn't have 'first-world problems.' By all means, disagree. But at least offer up an opinion on the topic, as opposed to just being upset or offended that a snarky blog is actually snarky. on Gwyneth Paltrow

I don't know why people think your blog is so funny. I find it just downright mean and very judgemental. Guess it's not for everyone. on Douchey Dads

It certainly isn't. Glad you figured that out before you wasted any more of your precious time on me and my blog. Thanks for letting me know too that I'm mean and judgmental. It was really kind of you. Not at ALL mean and/or judgmental. Just, y'know, friendly and helpful. Thanks. I needed that honest and open communication from you so that I can go ahead and tell you to go fuck yourself.

Bra-vo, Jen, bra-vo! This is so right on. What if the Columbine parents had gone into their sons' rooms? Would all of those kids have died? I am raising four boys. Boys give you a one word answer which is usually "fine" or "nothing." You better believe if I feel more information is needed I will seek it myself. I am not their friend - I am their mom. It is my job to raise them as decent human beings and to keep them safe. I will go to any means necessary to do that. As a person who struggled with depression in high school and who would never open up to my parents, I WISH my mom would have read my diary. Then I could have gotten the help I was too afraid to ask for. on Why My Children Have No Right to Privacy

While I normally come to this blog for your sarcastic sense of humor. This entry was very serious, but also the best one I have read yet. I am single full time Dad of 3 and I agree with EVERY WORD you wrote. on Why My Children Have No Right to Privacy

I don't agree at all that by monitoring your kids' internet and cell phone usage or by reading their diaries that you're teaching them to snoop. There's a hell of a big difference between a parent checking up on their kids, and a kid just being nosy. Part of teaching your kid respect is teaching them what behavior is acceptable of what people and under what circumstances. As a kid I heard my parents swearing, and my dad would have the occasional after-work beer. That in no way meant that I, a child, felt that I should be knocking back a beer after a rough day on the playground, cussing, or digging through my mom's dresser drawers (not that I wanted to do that...bras, terrifying!). As long as I'm fully liable for the actions of the small person living in my home, guess what kid? Your shit, which is actually MY shit that I let you use, is all fair game. Deal with it. on Why My Children Have No Right to Privacy

Well this is a tough one indeed. I think the reality is that most people will find a balance for their families. A person's thoughts are their own and I would not be able to express myself honestly if I knew I was being monitored and I wouldn't want to take that creative impulse away from someone else. However, online communication changes things and situations can get out of hand quickly. The final question remains for me - what happens when we are no longer watching the children? We can't monitor their behavior forever. Are they only good because they fear we will find out? on Why My Children Have No Right to Privacy

Yours are the types of questions that keep me up at night. I'm just trying to do this right and not screw it up. Thanks for your comment.

I completely understand and respect where you're coming from, but I have to disagree with you -- at least partially. I'm 17, and I have a very good relationship with my parents. They let me have a great deal of privacy, and trust me to come to them if I need help with something. I trust both of my parents, and they trust me. And because they trust me, I am very open with them -- I have nothing to hide. And I actually ENJOY coming to them with stuff, they give good advice! :P What I'm trying to say is this: there's something to be said about raising your kids to be comfortable sharing things with you, the parent. A child/parent relationship built on mutual respect and trust is a pretty great thing -- and it's something that never would have developed if I caught my mom reading my text messages or journal. And take it from me, being super nosey and controlling won't get you anywhere; your kids will just get sneakier. on Why My Children Have No Right to Privacy

I love that I have so many young, articulate, and amazing young women who read this blog and who love to disagree with me. This is the second comment from a teenager I've featured this month who told me they thought I was wrong. These girls are badass! It sounds like you have your shit together and you've got a great relationship with your parents. Good for you! I want to meet your mom and dad!

The one time my husband peeped my stepdaughter's diary, she was about 7. She had written a whole entry about how much she looked up to her stepmom, the liar. She said she might want to be a liar herself one day, because of my example. My husband about pissed himself laughing. Gratified as I was that she thought so highly of me, we did find a way to subtly let her know that it is l-a-w-y-e-r. onWhy My Children Have No Right to Privacy

This made me laugh so hard. I just had to include it this week. What a great story to tell her someday.

Gwyneth Paltrow

2013-04-25T09:45:00.001-05:00

Did you hear the news? Gwyneth Paltrow has been named People magazine's Most Beautiful Woman in All the Land or something like that. Ugh, please. Anyone but her.

First, let me get the obvious out of the way. Yes, yes, yes, she's gorgeous. It is nearly impossible to believe that we are the same age. I swear she's got a portrait in a closet somewhere that looks like a dried out fish monger's wife. (Dorian Gray, anyone?? Or is the only gray you read 50 Shades??)

Let's just compare me and Gwyneth: her skin is ah-may-zing compared to my skin which defies nature as it is both chalky and sun damaged. Gwyneth's (presumably, since she's never let me get close enough to touch it) soft and wrinkle-free face actually gives me a visual aid for when magazines describe "glowing" and "dewy" complexions. I understand what those words means now. Gwyneth's long, silken tresses beg to be touched, while my mousy graying hair actually looks sharp to the touch and is currently so short, my daughter accused me of being a man the other day. Gwyneth's body. Do I even have to say it? When you're 5'9" like Gwynnie, you're already leaps and bounds ahead of the average woman. Her legs are as long as my entire body.

I suppose we could all look like Gwyneth if we bought her number one selling cookbook (who the hell is buying this thing??) that dishes up recipes completely devoid of: meat, soy, wheat, gluten, coffee, dairy, alcohol, sugar, shellfish, potatoes, tomatoes, bell peppers, eggplant, corn, or anything processed. I'm not sure what that leaves? Raw leafy greens washed down with coconut water (she didn't expressly forbid tap water, but I'm assuming that's a big no no when you're on a "clean diet")? Actually, in her cookbook she mentions a salad she enjoys: arugula with maple syrup because the syrup adds an "another layer of autumnal yum!"

Mmm .. autumnal yum! Just needs a little more maple syrup!

When you break down her daily menus in her book, it's been estimated that a day's worth of "Gwynnie Food" will cost you $300 and you'll still go to bed hungry. A small price to pay, I guess, to be named Most Beautiful.

OK, so she's beautiful and if we're just judging on looks alone, then I guess she wins. BUT, come on, People. She's so faux, her behavior actually forced me to write the word "faux." She used to be normal back in the day and then it's like the lack the of sugar and alcohol drained her of all her normal human personality traits and now she's some bizarro vegan Stepford Wife who spouts nonsense like, "I am who I am. I can't pretend to be somebody who makes $25,000 a year" when she doesn't even behave like somebody who makes $250,000 a year. She brags about making films that "... will be interesting and that have integrity. I hate those tacky, pointless, big, fluffy, unimportant movies" and then she makes movies like Iron Man 1, 2, and 3 and The Avengers. (All super important movies.)

How could you choose her, People? Do you know your audience? Your audience is people like me: wrinkled people with easy hairdos who have barely heard of Veganaise, let alone eaten it. I'm never going to drink Gwyneth's green morning energy drink. I just read a review that described it as tasting like "the water from your salad spinner" and that was the kindest review I could find. A quick glance at her asinine website Goop, proves that she is so out of touch with reality she is like a modern day Marie Antoinette living in her palatial London spread saying ridiculous things like everyone should have a wood burning pizza oven in their garden. (BTW, what sort of pizza is she making without wheat, tomatoes, or peppers? Answer: Pizza that tastes like ass.) She lives in such a bubble where she she really believes she is just a normal "mum" who would "die" if she let her kids eat Cup-a-Soup. She is a normal mum who is married to a rock star, who eats nothing but tree bark and salad spinner water while living in her multi, multi, multi-million dollar properties and selling shit online like a like a must-have $298 robe that she touts is perfect for "lazy days."

Of course she does. This is someone who has been besties with Madonna (who also fancies herself a Brit and was once caught on tape saying she "absolutely loathes hydrangeas" just after a devoted fan gave her hydrangeas) and now Beyonce ("Queen B" as I'm sure Bey prefers Gwynnie call her) has assumed the BFF role. Poor Gwyneth doesn't have a chance to be normal when she surrounds herself with people like Beyonce who is so upset about the unflattering, snarling photos taken of her fierce performance at the Super Bowl that now all professional photographers except for the one she's hired are banned from her current tour. Gwyneth is a woman whose first world problems include asshole concierges in Paris hotels who don't give her the real skinny on the good organic wine bars and the best place to get a Brazilian. (Who is in Paris long enough to need a Brazilian while you are still on vacation???)

No, People magazine, I think you missed the mark on this one. You've actually created a monster. The humble bragging has already begun. Gwyneth said, "I honestly thought someone was playing a joke on me."

Yes, Gwyneth, I thought the same thing when I heard the news.

If you like what you read, please follow me on Facebook orTwitter!

Why My Children Have No Right to Privacy

2013-04-23T11:58:00.001-05:00

A few days ago, my friend Kim at Let Me Start By Saying wrote an essay that was featured on the Huffington Post. It was about reading her five-year-old daughter's diary. Kim knew her daughter had been writing in her diary and Kim wondered what was going on in her daughter's head. She took the key and opened the book. She was apprehensive. She was worried she might find out that her daughter was sad or angry or hiding something. Instead, she found that her daughter was happy and loved her life. Kim wrote a sweet and endearing post about this experience and her relief to find her daughter happy and healthy.

Now, it's known that the Huffington Post has some of the meanest, angriest, trolliest commenters around. I always imagine many of them living in vans down by the river or licking Cheetos residue from their fingers while typing their raging opus in their mother's dark basements. Well, Kim struck a nerve with her post and got those vans and basements rattling with anger.

So many people came out screaming at Kim for "violating her daughter's privacy," for "betraying her trust," and flat out calling Kim a terrible mother.

All of the comments got me thinking.

If they thought Kim was a terrible mother, then I must be a HORRIBLE mother. I saw nothing wrong with what Kim did. A few people made the distinction that her daughter is only five, but if she were 15 then it would a be a violation, blah, blah. But I disagree.

I have been very clear in making sure my children have never even gotten the idea that they have a right to privacy in my home. Sure, my kids can bathe in private or close the doors to their bedrooms, but they cannot keep diaries locked away or drawers in their dressers off limits from me and the Hubs.

Why do we think that children deserve privacy? Why do we think that some how we're betraying our precious snowflake's trust by reading her text messages or his emails? I'm not betraying their trust, I'm parenting. They don't get to keep secrets from me. They don't get to leave this house without telling me where they're going, who they're going with, and when they will be back.

They can have an opinion and they can tell me my rules suck, but I really don't care. I have a job to do. My job is to raise them and to keep them safe and to make sure they're not entitled assholes.

Only entitled assholes demand a right to privacy. They're kids. They're not adults. Not even adults have complete freedom. I know I've had to pee in many a cup to get a job and I know that my emails were read and my phone conversations were monitored. That's just life.

My children will never have privacy. I am their mother. This is my house. I am determined to know everything that goes on under this roof. I'm not stupid enough to think that I will always know what's happening, there will be secrets they'll manage to keep, but I'm also not stupid enough to think my kids will just tell me everything that's going on in their lives. I have to be an active parent. I can't be lazy or complacent and just think my kids are good kids because they have decent grades and their friends seem OK.

You know why not? Because kids lie. All the time.

When my kids are teenagers, they will know that at any moment I can ask them to hand over their cell phones, laptops, whatever equipment they'll be carrying by then, so that I can see who they're talking to and what they're talking about. Can you imagine if those boys in Steubenville had parents who enforced this rule? Can you imagine getting your son's phone and seeing pictures of a girl being violated by him and his friends? Do you think those boys would have taken those pictures if they suspected their parents might see them? Do you think they would have uploaded videos to Youtube laughing at the victim and calling her names if they thought for a second their parents would access their Youtube accounts? I don't think they would. But I'm not surprised the Steubenville boys didn't have rules like these. Those kids were dicks and they had parents who enabled them and let them be dicks. My guess is, those kids had privacy. Those kids had parents who didn't want to betray their trust or invade their personal space. That's bullshit.

(Of course I'm not saying that every kid who is allowed privacy is going to be a rapist or an asshole, but your chances are pretty high. Good for you if you've raised a good kid who was also afforded privacy!)

A few weeks ago I had lunch with a friend who has a teenage daughter. My friend was upset because her freshman daughter had been caught sending inappropriate photos to a senior boy. The mother of the boy was doing her usual random search through her son's phone and came across the photos of a scantily clad young girl. She demanded to know who the girl was and her son told her. She tracked down my friend and told her about the photos of her daughter. The mothers agreed to delete the photos and punish the kids.

Can you imagine if the boy's mom didn't find that photo? Can you imagine if the boy decided for some reason to share the picture with the rest of their school? Girls are killing themselves because of photos like these.

Kids make dumb choices. They are not equipped to think about consequences. That's why we need to parent them. We need to be there guiding them and helping them and supervising them. And to me, that means no privacy.

What about their diaries? I will read their diaries and their journals and anything else they write. Too many kids struggle with depression, addiction, low self esteem, and more and a good place to find out about it is through their writings. I would rather violate their trust and read my child's journal and get them help than stand by with my head in the clouds hoping they'll tell me what's bothering them while they're contemplating their suicide.

Too many kids are hurting themselves and others because they're in pain and they need help. I can't stand by and just hope my kids will tell me what's bothering them.

So, their journals and texts and emails will be ours to read. Their drawers will be ours to search.

I do this, not because I'm running a police state or because I wrote the Patriot Act (as a brilliant HP commenter accused me of), but because I am responsible for them and I love them and I want guide them and help them.

I am all for kids learning through their mistakes, but I want those mistakes to be flunking a math test or getting a detention for too many tardies. I don't want the mistake to be sending a text message while driving and accidentally killing a child walking home from school. I don't want the mistake to be emailing naked photos to the captain of the football team and hoping he keeps those to himself. I don't want the mistake to be a child who is so depressed he hurts himself and/or his classmates. I love my children fiercely and I don't want to be that parent who says, "We had no idea she felt this way."

Maybe you think I am a terrible mother, but I really don't care.

If you like what you read, please follow me on Facebook or Twitter!

A (Good) PIWTPITT Book Review

2013-04-22T14:25:00.002-05:00

Did you notice that April was new book release month? I noticed this last year when it seemed like everyone and their mother had a new book coming out. Last year I was kind of bummed because I didn't have my book ready. I wasn't even sure what my book would be about. Wah wah (that's my sad trombone sound).

This year I'm not bummed, I'm so excited, because several of the new April best seller's are my friends! (OK, so I've never actually sat down and had a cup of coffee with any of these women, but that's only because Kansas isn't close to anyone! Wah wah. The beauty of the internet is I don't need to have coffee once a week with these girls to feel like we're friends.) I'm so excited for all of them and I just know their books are going to be big successes!

Have you read these books yet? NO? What are you waiting for? My review? OK, well, here's a quick look at them:

Moms Who Drink and Swear by Nicole Knepper - If you ever thought you were the only mom who drops the f-bomb while making a new friend in the McDonald's Playland in your pajamas, you'd be wrong. I'm going to start hanging out in my local McDonald's in my pajamas hoping Nikki will pick me up. This funny and heartwarming book will make you feel like you're not alone in this crazy world.

Nikki may have a fierce sounding name and she might like to call her kids "crotchfruit," but let me tell you a secret: Nikki is a big ole' softy. This girl loves those crotchfruit like no one else. She adores her husband and idolizes her parents. She can be funny and witty and then turn around and make you cry with her honesty and her poignancy! This book is a love story to her family and we're so lucky that she's letting us read it.

Parenting: Illustrated with Crappy Pictures by Amber Dusick - Have you ever seen a crappy drawing of chewed up bubble gum stuck in a little girl's undies or a disgusting public toilet where you're trying to potty train little boys or a harried woman mesmerized by the Target "eye"? No? Well, then you're missing out.

Amber is one of my favorite artists. I would frame some of her crappy pictures and put them on my wall if I had a color printer. This book is full of hilarious and adorable stories about Amber and her kids. Yes, her kids are cute and funny, no she does not think they're ah-may-zing. Amber is real and has no qualms telling you that her kids won't eat their veggies because they're "too fucking hot" or give her some time on the throne.

Motherhood Comes Naturally and Other Vicious Lies by Jill Smokler - I don't know about you, but I have noooo trouble being a mother. I love what pregnancy did to my body (let's face it, it wasn't that great to start with), I enjoy bathing with an audience of two, I live for middle of the night wake ups when kids are crying, and I plan to get tons of sleep once they go off to college. Sleep is over rated. (Says the woman writing this at 4:30 in the morning.) You disagree with me? Good! Then this is the book for you. Jill shares the biggest lies you'll ever hear like going from two kids to three kids is a breeze and Mother's Day is all about you.

Do these books sound like your cup of tea? Want to win a copy of them? I've got a free copy with your name on it. All you have to do is leave me a comment on the blog between now and April 26th telling me why you think it's important to have a sense of humor when you're parenting. I'll pick a winner and announce it Friday on my Facebook page, so make sure you're following me there if you want to win.

Psst .. Hey husbands, if you don't win these would all make great gifts for Mother's Day. You know what else would? I Just Want to Pee Alone!

Disclaimer: Yeah, I got these books for free. See? I told you guys I was friends with these writers. They didn't even make me pay or anything. That's like 50 bucks worth of free books! You know me well enough by now that if I didn't like these books I'd tell you, so you can trust me when I say these books are awesome.

If you like what you read, please follow me on Facebook orTwitter!

Lotus Birth Bags

2013-04-18T09:36:00.001-05:00

Alright, so I thought the placenta pills were horrible and the placenta bear revolting, but now there is something worse.

Apparently, it's a thing to carry your days old placenta around in an adorable sack. WTF, placenta lovers?? Can't you people just discard it as medical waste like the rest of us??? Actually, I don't know if this is a placenta lover thing ("The placenta is special and should be kept for all time!") or if this is just one more way to accessorize and/or decorate everything in our lives ("Oh my God, how cute! An ah-may-zing bag for our placenta, honey!!") or if this is a competimom thing:

"I gave birth in a bath tub in my living room surrounded by friends, family, neighbors, three midwives, a Druid Priest, and an astrologer, during a full moon. I delivered in complete silence except for the sounds of the musicians we'd hired to play the pan flute while using only acupuncture to control my pain."

"Yes, I did all of those things too, but then I carried Azriella's placenta for 10 days in a hand made bag we got from an old woman we met and bonded with on our cross country journey through Guatemala when I was seven months pregnant with her."

"Son of a bitch!"

Look, I get the whole waiting a few extra minutes before cutting the cord so the baby can get those last drops of cord blood, but once you reach the one hour mark, you are just carrying around a rotting organ.

And once again a Ziploc bag or a Tupperware bowl just will not do! Apparently that plastic shit makes your placenta smell and rot. Yeah, that's what's doing it. So instead, if you've got some money left over after buying your ah-dor-able birth wreath, you need to fork over some dough and get yourself a Lotus Bag.

A Lotus Bag is a gorgeous cotton-lined bag with drawstrings and usually some sort of I Am Earth Mother Hear Me Roar picture on the front like a hearty oak tree or a dove or something like that. So instead of cutting the cord, you wrap your placenta in absorbent cloths and place it in the bag. Oh, did I mention that it's a good idea to bathe your placenta in a salt bath too? It helps cut down on odor and it speeds up the drying process. Within a few days (around 3 to 10!!!) the cord will naturally detach from your baby and then you use the included herbs and salt to dry out the placenta (still in your gorj Lotus Bag) and then you save it for all eternity to pass down to family members or something like that. Just what you want to show his first girlfriend some day. "Would you like to see Gomer's dried out placenta?"

Oh, and let me just say something to those who say the placenta only smells a bit "musky." Bullshit. I got up close and personal with Gomer's placenta and let me tell you, that was one of the funkiest things I've ever smelled. And I have smelled a lot of funky things, including but not limited to: a hole in the floor where the entire female population of a university does its business, a freezer that quit working in the dead of summer loaded with beef, and a house that had a water leak that no one discovered for a week. All of those were better than the placenta!

OK, let me just wrap my head around this for a minute. I give birth to my baby. My doctor says, "Do you have your bag?" Of course! She wraps the placenta in absorbent cloths and drops it in the bag. Plop. I get home with my newborn that I'm trying to carry around and I have to sling his placenta over my shoulder everywhere I go. (Luckily, the makers of the Lotus Bag got smarter as they went along and made longer handles. The first ones were a nightmare!) Now it's time to bathe my baby. Careful, Hubs! You almost kneeled on his placenta! Baby's done, but what is that smell?? Right. The placenta. It hasn't been bathed in a day or so. Here, Hubs, hold the baby while I bathe our placenta, because I didn't want a shower today, I'd rather spend my extra 10 minutes on this shit. Meanwhile, it seems like the placenta has been hanging around a long time. What day are we on? Day seven?? I thought this was only supposed to be a three day thing. Of course, I really need to get to Target, but I can't go with my baby's cord swinging. What is that smell?? Shit, I think I need to bathe the placenta again!!

If you like what you read, please follow me on Facebook orTwitter!

picture source

Anyone Who Would Try and Give Me a Birth Wreath

2013-04-15T07:53:00.001-05:00

It was recently brought to my attention that there is yet another event that needs to be memorialized and decorated to the nth degree: giving birth.

I know what you're thinking. But Jen, when I gave birth I got flowers and cards and balloons and some meals. What more could I need?

Well, girl, you missed out. Your birth experience wasn't perfect enough, because your ugly, drab hospital room door was completely and totally unadorned without a Birth Wreath. (I would have put a picture of a birth wreath in here, but shocker, no one would give me permission to use their pic. It was like they thought I might make fun of them or something. Click the link above and you'll see a picture there.) Yup. You needed some bling on that brown, (probably faux) wood thing that just stood there sneering at your guests when they arrived to see your little miracle. How embarrassing for you! Is that how you want your friends, family, and hospital staff to remember your birth experience? What about you? Do you want to remember your friends and family turning up their noses at your horrible hospital-issue (probably handwritten - the horror!!) signage? Baby Boy Jones. Ugh. You should be ashamed!

Now, I'm done having kids. My baby factory has shuttered the doors and locked all of the windows, but there is still some hope for those of you who are still in the baby making business. Lucky for you, birth wreaths have been invented.

You won't have to suffer through hours of seeing that dreary door opening and closing. Now you can order your own handmade birth wreath to announce the blessed event.

Here's how the birth wreath works: you order one in your favorite traditional gender color, or match the baby's nursery palette so that everyone around you can see the horrific color scheme you chose (peach and lime green), or go that extra douchebag step and get your favorite college team colors (Go Big Yellow!). Blech. There is a plaque on the wreath where you fill in all of the vitals once your bundle of joy is dropped off by the stork. The best part of this wreath though, is the personalization with your future child's name.

Names like:

Tensli - I'm so glad they went with the traditional spelling, instead of the weird ones: Tenzlee, Tensly, Tenzlie.

Rhealynn - Alternate spellings? No clue, because I don't even know how to pronounce this name.

Eden Alivia - I see what you did there to a perfectly good name like Olivia. You're so original!

Brantley - This would be the best if that was his middle name and his first name was "Lord."

Britten - Britten? As in the place? I bet her sister's name is Londyn.

Bodey - Surely this is a dog name?

Emersyn Bailee - Pat, I'd like to buy a proper vowel.

Carsyn Adelle - The "y" clearly feminizes the name Carson.

Maverick - Goose and Ice Man called. They think your parents are douches.

Slayde - This kid should hang out with Maverick.

Gracen Alene - We can never be friends again if you name your daughter Gracen.

Izabelle - I feel like this is the text message version of this name. It should have just been Izabl.

Full disclosure - I found these ACTUAL names on a birth wreath site on Etsy. It's days like these that I am thankful I am not a substitute teacher five years in the future trying to call roll. WTF? Apparently birth wreaths are only purchased by people who think it's OK to spend $75 on tulle and ribbon and think vowels in names are interchangeable and/or they can't spell.

Tell me, did you have one of these on your hospital room door?

Big Bags of Crap

2013-04-09T10:13:00.000-05:00

On Sunday afternoon I went crazy.

I went in my walk in closet to find a particular shirt and I couldn't even find my hand. My closet has become the Bermuda Triangle of our house. Twice a month the cleaning lady comes to our house and twice a month I shove laundry baskets of crap into my closet. I shove bags of shit (OK, not real shit, but you get my drift) into my closet: art projects from school, dirty clothes, clean clothes that I haven't had time to put away, books, sheets and towels. Stuff goes in there and never comes back out. Besides all of this crap that really doesn't belong in a closet I have clothes in there that haven't been worn outside since 1990.

I tried to push into my closet and when I couldn't get the door open all the way, something inside of me snapped. "That's it!" I screamed. I stomped into the kitchen and grabbed the box of garbage bags and stomped back to my room. I logged into my computer (Yes, I wanted to check Facebook just one more time before I started my journey. This was going to be hard and I needed some virtual ((hugs)) to keep me going!) and scheduled an appointment with my favorite donation center to come and pick up the good stuff I was bound to find in there. (Plus, I needed a deadline to work towards if this was gonna get done!) Someone will be there on Tuesday! the donation center's site told me. Shit. That's quick. Better log off Facebook. One more look ... Yum! Trisha's lunch looks delicious!

I started pulling piles of junk out of my closet and organizing it into two piles: TOSS/RAGS (Q: How many t-shirts can a person own that are misshapen and pit-stained? A: 30. Upside: New Rags!) and DONATE.

It was quickly apparent that I have a problem. Remember a while ago when I thought Adolpha might be a hoarder? If she is, it's my fault.

I had a pile of jeans on my bed ready to donate. Jeans that haven't been worn since 1990. Light denim jeans with high waists and no stretch in them. I don't know about you, but I haven't worn jeans without a bit of stretch in them for at least 10 years. Plus, do you remember how HEAVY jeans used to be? I bet this pile of jeans weighed 25 pounds. Despite all of these drawbacks, this pile of jeans kept calling me back. Maybe you'll need to do some messy yardwork, I told myself. You won't want to wreck your good stretchy jeans. You should keep some of those for messy yardwork days. Yeah. Guess how many times I've done "messy yardwork" since 1990? If you guessed "none" you'd be right.

I took a deep breath, said a quick goodbye to my old friends, jammed the jeans into a garbage bag, and turned my attention to a pile of power suits circa 1994. The shoulder pads! The pin stripes (yeah, I had a real affinity for pin striped jackets)! The modest, knee skimming skirts! The matching sensible pumps!

The suits were easier to bag up than the jeans. I hope there is never an instance in my life that I am required to wear a suit. Or if there is I'll just buy a new one that isn't so ... what's the word I'm looking for? Matronly. Seriously, who wears a matronly suit at 25? This girl did.

The final piles were more Eddie Bauer, Lands End, and J. Crew sweaters than a person should be allowed to own. I think at one point in my life I must have thought every day was a catalog shoot for these brands. It didn't matter what the occasion, I had the perfect sweater for it!

Going boating? Let me just grab my cable knit fisherman sweater!

I ended up keeping this one. I might go boating again and it will come in handy.

Berry picking? How about this jaunty, cozy fall cardigan?

Yeah, I guess I never went berry picking, because this one still has a tag on it. According to the tag I bought this on clearance for $40. Ahh, the days before I had kids and I could spend money willy-nilly!

Christmas party? At a cabin? In the woods? No worries, I got it covered.

Really funny story about this sweater. I'm writing it right now for my new book, but let's just say imagine me going to lunch at Le Cirque in Manhattan wearing this sweater paired with a prairie skirt and meeting Ivana Trump.

I worked tirelessly all day yesterday finishing up before my deadline and I am ready for the pick up this morning. I have 16 trash bags full of clothes, shoes, and accessories.

I am rarely embarrassed, but this morning I am embarrassed by my front hall. No one should have over two decades worth of clothing sitting in their front hall.

No one should have ever bought half of this stuff to begin with. Did you see that Christmas sweater? Believe it or not, it was a favorite!! Let's just say, Ivana was not impressed.

I've been told that the 90s styles are coming back. Ugh. Well, I have some good news for any short, plus-sized hipster who will be shopping at my local thrift store in the next week or so. Go get it, girl!

Weekly Wrap Up 4.6.13

2013-04-06T10:58:00.000-05:00

Let's see. What's been going on since we wrapped up last?

I turned 41, which wasn't nearly as painful as 40. I guess the closer you get to 50, the more numb you become?? No, you didn't miss a huge party or anything. I celebrated at Red Robin, because the birthday person gets a free sundae that my kid like to eat for me. The Hubs ordered me a new Kindle last night, so I'm guessing that will count as my present. Thanks, Hubs!

I Just Want to Pee Alone is killing it. The reviews are fantastic and my co-contributors and I are fielding so many press calls left and right from small, regional news sources that we feel like rockstars. I mean, how many of you can say you were interviewed by The Shepherdstown Chronicle? Besides West Virginia, I've made the leap to international stardom. It's ironic, really, that I can't get the Kansas City Star to notice me, but I've been interviewed on the radio in Ireland and if Google's translation skills are to be believed, this site in Brazil called me a "negative bastard." Why doesn't the Kansas City Star want to interview this negative bastard? Oh well, their loss.

Because I Just Want to Pee Alone is going so well, I've started a new site. Why? Because I hate sleep, that's why. Actually, the Hubs is doing the bulk of this site, because I love sleep. The new site is called - wait for it - ijustwanttopeealone.com. Catchy, right? So this site is going to be cool. I know that there are lots and lots of you out there who have something to say. I've heard from many people who already want to submit for IJWTPA Volume 2. Well, Volume 2 is a ways off, so that's why I started the site. This way I can showcase all of the amazing talent that's out there and help you find your audience. The site is up and live and ready for submissions, so check it out. Do me a favor, would you? Please let all of your writer friends know so they can submit too. There is also a Facebook page for the site, so be sure to follow it too. It won't be all book promo stuff, I promise.

Do you live in Minnesota? I know it's a big state, but maybe you live near Wayzata? If you do, then you should go and meet Michelle Newman of You're My Favorite Today at her booksigning!

If you're in Kansas City, don't forget that you have two opportunities to come and see me. I'll be doing a live reading with some other amazing bloggers at the Kansas City Listen to Your Mother show and I'll be signing books at the Mommy Shop in Overland Park.

Top Read Posts This Week:

Holy Cow, Target! You Think I'm a Cow! - Attention Target shoppers! Target thinks you're a sea cow.

The Lady at the Self Checkout - This is a reminder why it is never wise to risk the self-checkout the day before a holiday.

My Retirement Plan Sucks - Pssst! Looking for a good investment tip? I've got a hot one for you! Check it out.

The Costume Designers at Mad Men Need to Keep Their Hands Off Jon's Family Jewels - If you've got 'em, flaunt 'em.

Victoria's Secret - Vicky wants to sell your tween panties that you would be embarrassed to wear.

My Favorite Comments (and My Replies if Necessary):

How about Piggy Pink? on Holy Cow, Target! You Think I'm a Cow!

I'm kinda partial to the Retaining Water Blue. on Holy Cow, Target! You Think I'm a Cow!

Don't forget the Junk in the Trunk Jewel Tones Collection for Fall. on Holy Cow, Target! You Think I'm a Cow!

I dont think I have laughed that hard at anything in long time. Your beluga - Oh God, My Eyes - White had me snorting while I was laughing so hard I was crying. To top it off, Im at work which made things even more hysterical. Thanks for that. You have made my day, weekend, week, and month!!! on Holy Cow, Target! You Think I'm a Cow!

I always thought it would be fun to name the colors in a seasonal line, but after ten seasons of renaming grey, I would probably be the fuck up that made almost all women hate Target. A feat that before this week seemed impossible. on Holy Cow, Target! You Think I'm a Cow!

Coming next season: fat ass fusia, lardass lavender, obese orange and drop the donut damask. assholes. on Holy Cow, Target! You Think I'm a Cow!

I love you. My kids are still in day-care, so most of the "other moms" are also harried working moms who barely have time to get the laundry done, and probably used their finger to get the last of the PB out of the jar this morning because they haven't been to the grocery store in 2 weeks. Also, my kids go to Jewish day-care, ergo no secular holidays… which is basically a giant bonus "mom pass" on all the shit you mentioned above, plus Halloween costumes. However, I realize this time is precious, because soon I will have to interact with (compete with? be compared to? be shamed by? be judged by?) the OAMs since they will have kids in kindergarten/first grade. (Presumably, they are too overachieving to allow “strangers to raise their children” as I have oh so regrettably done.) Anyway, I'm about to enter a land of women who are planning to hit yoga and grab a latte and possibly get a mani-pedi after drop off, as opposed to rushing to the office and spending their lunch hour at on The Over Achievers Are at it Again

I dunno, with global warming, coats may become obsolete. Maybe you should start stockpiling sandals just in case. ;) on My Retirement Plan Sucks

I thought about that too, and luckily we've got a good start on sandals and flip flops, so I think we'll be good.

A friend told me recently that there are scholarships and tuition discounts for Eagle Scouts so I have decided all that camping and scouting crap that my hubby and the boy do together might pay off after all. Hubby went to a 3 day "leader training" a few weeks ago that involved camping in snow because evidently when the boy graduates from webelos they start camping 12 months out of the year! So I figure we won't need dorm expenses in college, he can just get a camping space close to campus and live in a tent. The girl is like me and won't go near a tent but all this gymnastics might qualify her as a pole dancer or something so I am definitely investing in skills of sustainability for them both! on My Retirement Plan Sucks

Don't you lie - you saw this magnificent wreck of a woman and parked it right behind her, knowing FULL WELL that the line beside you was moving right along. "It's okay," you told the nice man who tapped you on the shoulder and pointed at the available self check stand, "I have a blog post due, and this will make for a good one." on The Lady at the Self-Checkout

PIWTPITT, me and my mom read your blog constantly, and I usually agree with what you have to say. But today, I disagree. Coming from me (a modest 17 year old girl), I have never bought any of the "call me" underwear. I honestly go right past it and to the regular people underwear. My mom takes me to VS because they're great at figuring out your exact bra size and finding the right bra for your body. If i had picked up a neon-zebra print thong, she would say "What the heck, D." I have friends that wear that type of underwear, and it doesn't make them racy. It's a personal preference and whatever they think is comfortable. Yes, I had a VS bra in middle school, because of ridiculous puberty, but that doesn't make me slutty. It just means I wanted a bra that would last longer than one from Target. Besides, it seems to me that this is towards college age girls. VS may claim everything to be "Very Sexy", but that doesn't make them a bad company. Young girls (middle school - college) can on Victoria's Secret

Hey Girl, Thank you for your comment. You are an articulate young woman who leaves grammatically correct dissensions. Thank you for that. I completely understand needing a bra in middle school. I was right there with you, getting some horrible contraption before everyone else. In my day, we didn't have any choices for young girls, so I ended up with some granny looking thing. But that's beside the point. What I wanted to say to you was: I think you made my point when you said if you ever picked up a neon zebra print thong, your mother would say, "What the heck, D?" Your mother is watching you. She is guiding you. Your mother is there helping you pick appropriate clothing for you. That's all I'm asking for. I'm asking for more mothers to get involved. If your friends want to wear these types of clothing, I just want to make sure their mothers are aware. I'm so over the top about this kind of stuff that if a teenager emails me and tells me she reads my blog, I tell her to go show the blog to her mother and get her permission. Parents need to know what their kids are wearing, reading, watching, etc. There are many parents out there who would not find me appropriate reading material and I'm OK with that. It's easy for me right now, because my daughter is six, but someday the marketing will work and she will be drawn to panties that say "Let's Get It On" or something equally brazen and I will want to know "Why??" Why does she need these panties. What does she really get from these panties instead of a pair that says nothing? That is my concern with this sort of clothing. You don't need to wear sexy panties to feel confident or beautiful or sexy.

Holy Cow, Target! You Think I'm a Cow!

2013-04-05T09:29:00.001-05:00

This morning I woke up and found out that Target kind of hates plus-sized women.

So, there's this Mossimo maxi dress that comes in standard sizes and plus sizes. The standard size comes in a grey color Target calls "Dark Heather Grey" and the plus size version is called "Manatee Grey."

I blew my tea out of my blow hole when I read that.

Manatee Grey?? How is this an attractive color name to begin with? How did they come up with Manatee Grey? I would love to hear the names that didn't make the cut. Was "Saggy Elephant Trunk Grey" taken? No one liked "Water Buffalo Grey?" Maybe they were going to offer this dress in different colors, but they couldn't come up with equally offensive names. What about "Big Blue Whale?" How about "Brown Cow?" Did they even consider "Beluga - Oh God, My Eyes! - White?"

Hey Girl, when you're done wearing your Manatee Grey maxi dress, can I borrow it? Because Target thinks we look about the same size.

Target swears this was not an intentional slight towards women with a little more cushion for the pushin' and the color "Manatee Grey" is one of their new colors for spring on many products in the company such as towels, rain boots, and t-shirts.

Yeah, I'm guessing only the beach towels are called Manatee Grey (because Beached Whale Grey didn't make the cut) and the hand towels are Dark Heather Grey.

My Retirement Plan Sucks

2013-04-03T08:42:00.000-05:00

Last night I went with some friends to hear a financial planner tell me that I'm never going to have enough money to send my kids to college or retire. No big deal, I'm sure my kids will get scholarships (because they're ah-may-zing at everything they do - there are scholarships for personality plus as well as academics, right??) and I'll die at my computer slogging away on a tell-all book about my grandchildren.

I can't remember how it came up (probably when I said I was going to curb my spending and save more money this year and everyone laughed at me), but someone asked me how my New Year's coat resolution was going.

"Huh?" I asked.

"You know. The one where you're supposed to be hanging up your coat every day. The easy one. Much easier than giving up your Target card."

Shit. I had completely forgotten about that little promise.

"Umm . . . yeah, I've kind of sucked at that this winter. I'll do better this summer - and stop shopping at Target so much so I can save for my kids' education!"

Everyone laughed at me again, because they know I can never stop shopping. They know I have an addiction. I'm so addicted to shopping that I have SIX coats thrown over my dining room chairs. SIX! Who has six coats and probably four more that are actually hung up?

Six coats and a pashmina that I wore to a wedding this weekend. Along with copies of I Just Want to Pee Alone. Let me know if you need a copy, because I just saw a coat I'd like to get and I could use the cash.

You know what? The financial planner warned us that the markets are so nuts and everything is volatile that you just can't guarantee any returns on your investments, but I figure I'm investing in the right place. There will always be a need for coats. As long as there is winter, coats will always be a strong commodity. So go ahead and invest in stocks and gold and bitcoins (why the hell didn't I invent these things??) and I'll keep investing in coats.

The Lady at the Self-Checkout

2013-04-01T09:13:00.000-05:00

On Friday I realized that I had been assigned a fruit salad for Easter Sunday lunch at my mother's and all I had in the house was an over ripe banana and canned peaches. I realized I was going to have to brave the store on the Friday before a holiday. Ugh.

I grabbed my keys and my phone and told the Hubs to send reinforcements if I didn't return in an hour and I headed out the door.

I arrived at Sam's Club and was greeted by a scene that can only be described as Apocalyptic. People were throwing 20 and 30 pound hams into their carts two at a time, the bakery section was ransacked and only some random birthday cakes were left, the old ladies fighting over the few remaining bags of potatoes looked like they might pull knife, and the butter - oh God, the butter - it was gone. All gone. Not a stick left.

I quickly grabbed what I needed and tried to keep a low profile. There didn't seem to be much hoarding going on in the fresh fruit aisle, but you never know when the mob might turn on you.

I made my way to the checkout only to find the lines at every register 10 or 12 people deep. The self-checkout lines caught my eye. Those tend to move a bit faster, because the people in those lines don't usually have a shit ton that they're buying - the only danger is getting stuck behind a novice. I decided to take my chances with the self-checkout.

Almost immediately I realized I'd made a mistake.

The woman in front of me was more than a novice. She was a numb skull. She had five items in her cart: milk, ham, flowers, butter (where did she find that??), and bread. It took her a solid 10 minutes to check out. She swiped her membership card to start and then read every instruction on the screen:

"Remove the scanning device and begin scanning your purchases."

"Hmm ... where is the device? What do they mean? This thing? How does it work? Do I just pull the trigger? Ack, my eyes! That laser beam kind of hurts!"

"Just scan the barcodes with it," I tried.

"Just hang on, I don't want to mess this up," she said. She started scanning. After each "beep" she would look at the screen and trace the item line with her finger: "Milk ... OK. There it is. Yeah, I think that price is right."

"Beep!!"

"Ham ... twenty pounds. Whoa! That is kind of high! I wonder if I will need that much ham? Maybe I should have gotten a smaller one. Oh well, we'll have leftovers for lunches. OK, what's next?"

"Beep!!"

"Bouquet of flowers ... Mmm ... Those smell so good! Did I scan the milk?"

"Beep!!"

"Butter ... salted ... five pounds. I should have gotten more butter. That's not going to be enough."

And then it was time for the bread. The bread is a little tricky. You must get two loaves and you scan a barcode on a picture on the counter. Even an experienced self-checker-outer can screw up the bread.

You would think that maybe I would help her out at this point. That maybe I was anxious to be on my way and I'd politely help her figure out the bread situation. But remember, she snapped at me earlier when I tried to tell her how to use the scanner.

So, nope. I've got nowhere to be. I'll just watch. I just wish I had some popcorn.

She started scanning her one loaf of bread. It would "beep," but when she'd check the display it would show an error. She'd look around sort of confused and helpless, but never once did she look to me or ask me for help. Fine, be that way!

She tried scanning about five more times before an employee finally came to check on her. "Everything OK, ma'am?" he asked.

"No. I can't get my bread to scan."

"Well, you need to do it here," he pointed to the picture of the bread. "Oh, and you need two loaves."

Wait for it ...

"I don't want to two loaves."

Boom.

"Yeah, well, you get two loaves."

"I don't want two loaves."

"I don't know what to tell you, ma'am. We sell it in a two-pack."

"Can't you just charge me for one loaf?"

"No, but you can pay for two and only take one."

"I don't want two loaves and I don't want to pay for two loaves."

"Then don't buy the bread ma'am. I'll put it back for you."

"But I need bread."

"Then go to another store."

And that's when she got mad. "I came here for groceries! I don't want to go to another store."

"I understand your frustration. We sell everything in larger sizes, ma'am. I'd be happy to run back and get you another loaf or return this one. It's your choice, but I need you to choose. There is a long line behind you."

"Forget it! I will get bread somewhere else!"

The employee swiped her loaf of bread and took off.

Now it was time to pay. "Swipe credit card or choose cash."

"Debit," she said.

"Just swipe it," I said. I was finally ready to go.

"Hold on. I need to push the 'debit' button first." She slowly and deliberately pushed the touch screen.

She swiped her card. "Bad swipe. Please swipe again." She swiped again. And again. And again. "Beep!" Finally! Success!

We waited a few seconds and nothing happened. A few more.

"Where is the receipt?" she asked. We both know they won't let you out the doors without your receipt.

"It comes out below," I said. "Is the machine out of paper?"

She looked at the screen, "Please replace scanning device correctly for receipt to print."

She hadn't hung up the scanning gun thing properly and now the receipt wouldn't print. Who knew the machine did that? I didn't. Know why? Because I've never not hung up the scanning gun properly. How does that even happen? My kids can hang it up without issue!

She jostled the scanner around a few times until it finally clicked into place and her receipt printed out and she slowly wheeled her cart out into the melee to get out the doors before someone jacked her for her butter.

I was so busy watching her show that I didn't keep track around me, but I'm guessing at least three people made it through the self-checkout line next to me while this train wreck tried to buy her five - no, now it was four - items.

I should have known better than to venture out on a day like that. Next time I will plan ahead or I will offer to bring canned peaches for lunch. I always have those on hand.

Victoria's Secret

2013-03-28T11:32:00.000-05:00

Oh hell no! Victoria's Secret is out of control! Did you notice a few months ago when they did their big televised fashion show that they had Justin Bieber on there? At first it was like, Ew. What's that little girl doing on stage singing Justin Bieber songs? Isn't that kind of weird? And then I realized it was the Biebs and I thought it was still strange to have him there, because he's like barely legal. I guess maybe that's why Victoria's Secret went with an obvious homage to CandyLand. Maybe they thought it would make him feel more comfortable?

Well, now it's clear why they invited the Biebs to come. Vicky's Secret has decided that they'd like to launch a line of bras and undies aimed at the middle school crowd. Y'know, the girls trying to attract Bieber's attention. OK, actually, VS says they are aiming their marketing dollars at high school girls. (But if they catch some middle schoolers in their nets, so be it, right?) I'm sure Biebs signed on, because he's tired of getting hit on stage with cotton full-coverage panties printed with the days of the week on them.

Victoria's Secret can say all they want about how they're trying to get these products out to 16-year-olds, but I'm not buying it. And even if they were, from what I've seen, this crap isn't even appropriate for a 30-year-old.

Of course, I think the middle schoolers would like more choices than rainbows and My Little Ponies, but this is the same company that enjoys branding our daughter's slouchy sweatpants with the PINK logo across their asses. Why am I not reassured that their bras and panties for young girls are going to be any better than this shit?

Oh I know what's better: a lace trimmed thong with the words "Call Me" emblazoned across her cooch. Are you fucking kidding me?? For my kid? Sorry, kid. Looks like it's cotton grannies with unicorns and snowflakes for you still.

As much as I'd like to, I really can't blame Victoria's Secret though. That's just what they do. They're in the business to make money and find more and more consumers for their cheeksters and thongs - even if their new consumers barely have enough cheeks yet to fill them. I blame the parents of the young girls who are buying this shit. Where are the parents when these girls are buying "Wild" panties? Updating their Facebook status? ("Shopping for some new undies for Ahlyssah. Cheetah print thong or zebra cheeksters. Decisions, decisions! She's growing up so fast!") Or are the moms getting a matching pair too? ("Call Me" for Kassidee and "Wild" for Mommy.)

WTF, young ladies?? No self-respecting young woman should have "I Dare You" on her ass. (Or is that the front? Who can tell??) What exactly are you daring us to do? What about "Too Hot" on her crotch? That sounds like a medical condition you should get checked out, because it's definitely not the amount of material in those panties that's making you hot.

I could rant and rave all day long about this, but instead, I'll let Baby Sideburns do the talking for me, she sums up my feelings perfectly:

I am so tired of manufacturers making products that make my daughter look like a skank. Why do parents keep buying this stuff? It is hard enough raising a daughter in this world without hooker heels for elementary school girls and padded bras for middle schoolers and thongs that say "Feeling Lucky" for high schoolers. We don't do it to our sons. There isn't a marble sack we can buy for him that says "Text Me" or boxer briefs that say "Up For Fun."

Ugh. These manufacturers get bolder every year. By the time Adolpha is in high school, I'm guessing Victoria's Secret will have panties that say, "Poke Me."

New Zealand Mum Who Left Her Baby in the Car

2013-03-26T10:11:00.001-05:00

Did you hear about the mother in New Zealand who left her sleeping newborn alone in the car while she ran errands? Yeah. She really did that. She left a note on the baby's chest that said, "My mum's in doing the shopping, call her if I need anything," (it also listed the mom's cell number). Several people noticed the baby snoozing in the car and rather than calling the police, they waited a bit and when the mother didn't return right away, they called her and told her to come back.

Apparently they felt sorry for the mom and thought she must have made a bad decision due to her exhaustion from having a newborn.

Umm ... wow. Really?

Hey, I don't even have a newborn and I'm tired, but as much as I would love a break, I still can't leave my kids locked in the car with a note (written all cutesy from their perspective) while I take my time browsing the aisles of Target. Actually, my kids are old enough to write that note for me and I still can't leave them alone. Nope, I have to drag my kids into the store and subject everyone around us to their whines for food and their pleas for toys. If I'm not in the mood to tackle shopping with and extra 90 lbs of annoying kids hanging on me, then I pawn them off on the Hubs. I plan my shopping for when he's home and he can watch them. I call my mom or a friend and ask them to keep them for a bit. I don't tape a note to the window of my car that says, "We ate everything in the house and so our mom is getting the groceries. Please call her if you see that she didn't crack the window enough or if we're being stolen by a creeper. Thanks!"

WTH, lady?? Even though I'm wiped out, I always make sure that my kids are safe. That's what parents do. We signed up for this. We chose this life. We're all tired and we're all begging for a moment of peace and quiet, but we know it can't be at the expense of our kids' safety. We are responsible for these little people. We're raising human beings, not puppies! When you go out, you can't leave them locked in the car, or home in a crate. You can't feed them scraps from the table, or tie them to a tree when they pee on your floor or chew something up.

I don't think for a minute this woman did this because she was exhausted or whatever. That note is way too cute to be written in a moment of desperation. It's almost like something totes adorbs she found on Pinterest. No, a worn out mom would have written, "Need milk. Baby's asleep. You wake it, you take it."

Nah, I'm not buying it. She just didn't want to lug that giant baby carrier and all the other crap a baby requires around the store.

I'm not saying this mom ranks up with there with the mom who abandoned her kid in the cart after she ran from security when she tried to steal a bathing suit from Wal-Mart and then was caught later that night partying at a night club while her kid was in emergency foster care. That mom is a terrible mom. This mom is just a dumb one who was lucky I didn't see her kid in the car.

The Costume Designers at Mad Men Need to Keep Their Hands Off Jon's Family Jewels

2013-03-25T07:00:00.000-05:00

So, it has come to my attention that Jon Hamm is a bit famous for going . . . uh . . . commando.

That almost looks uncomfortable. Does stick to his leg when it's hot out?

How did I miss this memo up until now? I am a huuuuuge fan of Mad Men and Jonny, in particular. In case you didn't know, he's on my List. Y'know, my List. (For the slower folks at home, my List is the list of celebrities the Hubs has given me a free pass for in the event I can actually get them drunk enough to hook up with me.)

Doesn't everyone have a List? I know the Hubs does. But the Hubs isn't very bright. He puts women like Salma Hayek and Charlize Theron on his list. These are girls who have never once even been to our neck of the woods, nor could they find it on a map! But when you pick someone like Jon Hamm, you have a fighting chance:

1. He's from St. Louis. Hellooo, I just went to St. Louis. I could have totally bumped into him at the Arch while he was there visiting with family and we could have shared a space aged pod together.

2. St. Louis is so close to Kansas City that he's bonded with several of our local break out stars like Paul Rudd and now he comes to KC every once in a while for charity gigs and such. I could easily buy a thousand dollar ticket to one of these events and bump into him in the coat closet. Repeatedly.

3. He's been on 30 Rock several times now and so I know he's tight with my BFF Tina Fey and all I'd have to do is casually mention over our deli sandwich lunch that I'd love some one on one time with Jon, and she could be like, "Oh hey, he's crashing at my apartment this week, because he's the guest host on SNL. Here's the key, knock yourself out, girl! By the way, he's a sloppy kisser, but who cares, amiright?"

OK, so as you can see, I know a lot about Jon. That's why I was so surprised to find out he likes to go free balling. I found several articles about his package and how this season on Mad Men the costumes are getting tighter and they've asked Jon to rein in his twig and berries so that the ladies at home can be thoroughly disappointed - I mean, won't be distracted - and can follow the plot line.

Twig and berries?? More like baby arm and bocce balls.

This is so unfair Mad Men. Release the Hamm bone! Unless you're going to put a smock on Christina Hendrix, I demand you leave Jon's junk just where it is - practically slapping against his knee!

So, you now know this meaty man is on my List, who's on yours?

Weekly Wrap Up 3.24.13

2013-03-24T11:15:00.000-05:00

I'm suffering from deja vu. In February we had a long break from school and then just when it was time to go back BAM! we got hit with a snowstorm and the kids had a bunch more days off from school. This week was Spring Break. The kids are supposed to go back to school tomorrow. Guess what came last night?? Yup. Lots and lots of snow and still more on the way. I did not get enough milk!

I know, I know. For those of you in Minnesota and Upstate New York and Canada and Russia, this seems silly, but this is Kansas. We don't do a whole lot of snow. We do tornadoes.

This week I received an email from someone claiming to be my friend who had a little "constructive criticism" for me. Then she went on for several paragraphs about how I'm "losing her," because I've become a shameless self promoter who talks about nothing except my books and that my posts are getting dark because I blogged so much about my phobias this week. And, oh yeah, my blog is ugly and it would be great if I could take all of that book money I'm earning and redesign it so it's pretty to look at. And she ended it with the fact that I could "take" or "leave" her advice, because she was "just sayin'." Ugh. Just sayin' is the absolute worst.

When I read this email, I went through a range of emotions. The first was, "Are you for real?" to "Wow, that was harsh and a bit undeserved" to "OK, really? Now, I'm just irritated."

I'm irritated, because this is not how a "friend" acts. This kind of behavior is exactly the sort of rudeness I rail against. We are not "friends" if you tell me I suck. This is not what a friend does. A friend supports another friend - even when you think I suck. A friend would send me an email that said:

Hey Jen, congratulations on your new book. Wow. A best seller in less than two weeks, huh? Fucking amazing. I'm so happy for you and so proud of what you and your friends have accomplished. This just proves to me that when women get together and support one another they can really do anything! I can't wait to get my copy and share the word with my friends who could use a good laugh. Also, I was wondering. Is everything OK with you lately? It seems like that trip to St. Louis kind of screwed with you. Who knew you were so afraid of small, dark spaces? If you need to talk, I'm here for you. I know your birthday and your two year blogging anniversary are coming up and I was wondering if you had anything special planned for the blog? Wouldn't it be cool if you did a whole re-design of it? I have lots of friends who are affordable web designers that could probably help you if you ever decided to change it. Just let me know. That's what friends are for!

See how much better that was? That's how you treat a friend. You don't tell a friend, "Your ass looks big in those leggings, just sayin'." Because that is basically what this person did. No. You say, "Hey friend, I loved how great your ass looked the other day when you wore those cute jeans. Why don't you wear those tonight instead of those leggings?"

I don't know if I've made it clear or not, but I enjoy writing on my crappy looking blog (I think that the fact that it's ugly is part of its charm). I write about whatever comes to mind. Sometimes it's small, dark passages in a kids' "museum," sometimes it's celebrities who eat their own placentas, sometimes it's men who want to control my reproductive rights, sometimes it's overachievers ruining Valentine's Day, and sometimes it's me being an idiot. I will continue to write on this blog about whatever catches my eye and I will continue to write books.

I try to walk a very fine line between tooting my own horn and looking like an asshole, but let's face it, I'm kind of an asshole. I have been from day one. I've never tried to pretend like I'm not. If I don't promote myself, who will? I've never been a humble bragger. I am just straight up braggadocious. And you know what? I'm excited! I have had two books now that have been best sellers. That's a big damn deal to someone who is trying to call herself a writer. Of course I'm going to talk about them! Why wouldn't I? Anyone would. I wonder if this woman has a best selling book? Just sayin'.

Now. Let's forget her and move on to some more shameless self promotion to really piss her off:

If you live in the Kansas City area then you have two opportunities to come out and see me! I've created two Events on the Facebook page where you can RSVP and get the details.

Book Signing at Mommy Shop - April 27 from 10 am to 12 pm I will be signing copies of I Just Want to Pee Alone at the Mommy Shop in Overland Park with my Bic Lady Pen. I will be joined by my co-authors, Tara of You Know it Happens at Your House Too and Stacey of Nurse Mommy Laughs. Mommy Shop is putting on a bit of a to-do. They'll have mimosas and muffins and swag bags if you're one of the first to arrive. Please come and see us so that we're not sitting there all alone getting drunk on all of those mimosas. Please RSVP so we know how many to expect.

Listen to Your Mother - May 11 from 7 pm to 9 pm I will be appearing live and on stage at the Unity Temple on the Plaza in a fancy new pair of Crocs. There are several writers who will be reading that night and I'm not sure what they have in store, but I will be reading something hilarious and funny, so be sure to wear your Depends. I will be terrified, so I'll probably wear Depends too, just in case. I'm also thinking that if there is any interest, I'll plan an after the performance get together on the Plaza. Like another Friend's Night thing. You can buy your tickets to LTYM here.

I Just Want to Pee Alone is still available for sale (nope, I didn't stop selling it after my friend told me I talked about it too much). Do you have your copy yet? Still on the fence? Here are a couple of reviews to check out to help you make up your mind:

Crappy Pictures

When Crazy Meets Exhaustion

The Sweet Chick's book review

And this happened this week:

Swoon.

I met The Bloggess and gushed like a freaking fan girl. I practically cried. I waited for three hours to get her signature (but it was fine, because I was kid-free and I brought a book to read - bliss). She is a rock star and an inspiration to funny women everywhere. I also managed to slip a copy of I Just Want to Pee Alone into her hands for a little light reading for her plane ride home.

Top Read Posts This Week:

This Museum Should be Called Phobias "R" Us - I can't decide if this place is fun or a torture chamber.

Just in Case I Wasn't Feeling Crazy Enough, We Decided to Go to the Arch - The next time a troll tells me I don't love my kids, I will refer them to this post.

Why I Don't Want Another Baby - I love babies, but I love them more when they're someone else's.

Companies Who Think Women are Dolts - First there were lady pens and now toy companies think women don't know how to play with cars.

My Favorite Comments (and My Replies if Necessary):

I went up with me husband, our 4 month old, and some random other couple. We JUST get in and my son messes his diaper- big time, to this day it was still the worst diaper blowout ever. Trapped in a pod...my hubs says oh gonna change him? How is that going to work, we are shoved in here T2A with complete strangers...excuse me we haven't met, is it okay if I stretch my sons poop smeared legs across your lap while I clean him up? Oh no? We sat there in silence as we SLOWWWWLY crept up the arch and the smell crept crept up our nostrils. When the door opened the other couple busted out of there like there was a fire. Welcome to St. Louis ya'll! on Just in Case I Wasn't Feeling Crazy Enough, We Decided to Go to the Arch

I think that you've got the theme for your next book started! "Move Over - I Think I'm Gonna Hurl!: Stories of Family Trips in America" Should be a best seller, based on this start! on Just in Case I Wasn't Feeling Crazy Enough, We Decided to Go to the Arch

You know when you look out those windows on the way up and there is that rickety staircase just in case of power failure or whatever? Well, about 20 years ago, I had to get OUT of one of those stupid cars about 2/3 of the way up and WALK DOWN. I was sure that I was going to die - fireman help or not. (Power outage - they let us out after nearly 45 minutes of sitting there in the dark). Never. ever. again. on Just in Case I Wasn't Feeling Crazy Enough, We Decided to Go to the Arch

That sounds like a place I could say to my husband - "Hey - I heard about this awesome thing in St. Louis. Maybe you and the little man should have a guys' weekend." Then I would do nothing. Absolutely nothing. Hmmmmm on This Museum Should be Called Phobias "R" Us

While I can relate to the phobia's, I LOVE the City Museum and so do my kids. It is one of the coolest places in the world. You will never see anything like it again. And please tell me you found 10 story slide...and the bar. You know they sell booze there, right?!? on This Museum Should be Called Phobias "R" Us

Sadly, I did not know this. This is why they need a damn map!!

Jesus, sounds and looks like something from the set of "Escape From New York." on This Museum Should be Called Phobias "R" Us

Thanks for the review, now I know where to take my husband when I'm ready for him to die. That would definitely kill him "naturally." on This Museum Should be Called Phobias "R" Us

It doesn't come pre-loaded with the Period Tracker app? Assholes. And, if I had been invited to the Hot Wheels Training Whateverthefeck Thing, I would've just sat there, running the cars into my head and asking them why they have to make things so complicated. Assholes. on Companies Who Think Women are Dolts

If I had been a blogger and been invited, I might have gone. Just to embarrass them (and myself, probably). I'd have the car wheels-up, then look to the closest man "Mine's broken. Could a big strong man like you help widdle biddy ol' me? What? Those round things go on the ground? That's so smart. Are you a doctor?" on Companies Who Think Women are Dolts

Barbara the Builder! She would have a spatula and a glue gun. Also a mirror b/c a lady should look her best. on Companies Who Think Women are Dolts

I would love to get down on the floor with little Nathan Jr. to play vroom vroom but I'm wearing my ePad Femme. It's highly absorbent but makes it hard to sit down. on Companies Who Think Women are Dolts

Oh man! Her Wheelz? Don't just give away those golden ideas for nuttin' yo! that shit is brilliant! onCompanies Who Think Women are Dolts

The trademark is in the works!

Just in Case I Wasn't Feeling Crazy Enough, We Decided to Go to the Arch

2013-03-20T10:31:00.000-05:00

As if crawling through small, dark spaces wasn't enough, the next day of our St. Louis Spring Break Extravaganza was spent touring the Arch.

What is the deal with St. Louis and tiny spaces?!

I remember touring the Arch when I was probably 10 or so. My family was doing that whole Griswold drive across America thing and we stopped at the Arch. That was when I first realized that I'm a bit claustrophobic. I can ride in a crowded elevator no problem, but put me in a space-aged pod that I can't even stand up in and send me up sideways to the top of the Arch and I just might freak the hell out.

I was so traumatized by that trip that when the Hubs suggested we take the kids up to the top of the Arch this weekend, I refused to go. "Hell no!" I said.

He reminded me that the day before he had graciously wedged himself into biohazard areas while I remained a safe distance at all times. "You owe me," he said. "I can't do that one by myself."

That's when I wished the Hubs was a doctor and could write me a 'script for Xanax. I don't take drugs, but I think Xanax or Valium would have been a tremendous help on our trip. Instead, I gulped down a Power Bar and psyched myself up for a 2 minute ride in a tin can.

I have to say, that in the 30 years since I last visited the Arch, they've done some improvements for the scaredy-cats like myself. There is now an elevator car in the lobby that you can climb into and see how you'll fit. (We all tried it out and even with our heavy winter coats it was still roomy - thank goodness, I've been working out!) They've added glass panels to the doors so that can see out. This doesn't sound like much, but it's so much more reassuring when you're bumping along to see the bend of the Arch and know that's why you're swinging and clunking. They've painted the interior white. I'm not sure what color it was before, for some reason I want to say yellow, but whatever it was, I remember feeling closed in. The white helps it feel much more open.

We bought our tickets and we were waiting on line when I almost puked from terror. I had been doing so well up until that point. The kids and I were exploring the museum part and reading the want ads from the 1800s for cattle wranglers and solicitors when the elevators arrived. We were reminded to stay to the right so the people exiting could get off. We moved over and the doors opened and a woman who was not a small woman burst through the opening and exclaimed, "Oh my God that was tight! Get me outta here." I thought, Hmm, she's a little bigger than me. Was it really that bad? And then four more adults who were bigger than her exited the car behind her!

Who loads up a car like that?? What is wrong with the people who work at the Arch?? I could feel my Power Bar threatening to come back up.

Just then a worker came up to us and asked how many were in our party. "Four," the Hubs replied.

"The car holds five," she replied and then called out, "Any singles? Any single riders?"

Shut up, woman!! Shut up!! We practiced getting into the elevator with the four of us, we never planned for a fifth! Shut up!

Luckily most people were in twos so we were able to ride up just the four us. Because the kids are still so small, we fit pretty well and it wasn't so bad.

Then we got to the top. Crap. I'd forgotten about the top. How hot and stale it is up there. How crowded it is and itsy bitsy windows. I'd forgotten how the floor is on a slant and you can feel the monument swaying in the wind.

Source

The Hubs went off on his own to look out the windows and take pictures while the kids and I sort of hovered near the exit with wild eyes. I could see that my fear was being projected on them and I couldn't scar them for life the same way I'd been scarred. "Let's look out a window!" I said, trying to sound excited. "I bet we can see far!" The kids calmed down and I pushed my Power Bar back into my stomach and we looked out the windows. After ten minutes of looking out windows and feeling the breeze move us, the kids and I were ready to go back down. The Hubs wanted to stay longer and take more pictures (he is Asian, after all). "Suit yourself, we'll see you at the bottom!" I yelled as I herded the kids to the elevators.

"How many?" the attendant asked.

"Three," I said.

"Go down to that elevator and join that party of two," she said.

I looked to where she was pointing. Two full sized adults looking to gobble my air supply and encroach into my personal area. They sized me up with equal apprehension. "Uhhh. . . we'd like to be in our own car," I said.

"Sorry, ma'am. We're very full up here and we need to keep the elevators full doing down."

"OK," I said. We joined the party of two.

Suddenly, the Hubs saved me. "Ma'am, you didn't tell me there was fourth," the attendant said. The Hubs was standing beside her.

"Yes! My husband!"

"OK, well now you get your own elevator."

"Thank you, Hubs!" I said to him.

"I didn't want you to go alone," he said.

Aww. The Hubs loves me even when I'm crazy. (OK, now I really am going to throw up that Power Bar!)

This Museum Should be Called Phobias "R" Us

2013-03-19T13:46:00.002-05:00

This week is Spring Break. We didn't plan to go anywhere this year. I thought we could stay home and relax and just hang out without the pressures of packing and traveling. It seemed like a good idea the first day. By the second day, I was begging the Hubs to take us somewhere - anywhere.

I had some criteria though:

Less than a 5 hour drive (I go batty on road trips and we couldn't afford to fly anywhere since I didn't get my act together.)
Someplace with kid-friendly activities.
A hotel with a separate bedroom for the kids, free wifi, free breakfast, and an indoor pool.

The Hubs came back with the following:

St. Louis – just a few hours down the road. The kids had never been and from what he could find online, there seemed to be a lot of stuff for them to do. He searched for a hotel and came back with one that met one out of my four criteria: indoor pool. “But it's a such a good deal!” he argued. Uh huh. With the Hubs he always sacrifices my wants for the sake of the "good deal."

It was the Hilton next to the airport and Gomer couldn't have been happier. He thought this was the “fanciest” hotel he's ever been in because it had a piano bar in the lobby with a real live person playing the piano. (He's used to staying in those places with the do-it-yourself waffle maker and all the Nutrigrain bars you can steal in the lobby.) Also he was thrilled to be so close to airplanes. “Look at that one! It's landing right beside us!” Apparently, I need to take my kid to the airport a bit more often.

After an uneventful drive (thank goodness) we headed to the City Museum. Whenever I mentioned to friends we were going to St. Louis, everyone said, “You must go to the City Museum. But . . .”

But what?

“It's a little . . . crazy,” they'd say. “You have to be able to let go.”

“Let go?” I'd ask.

“You'll see. It's not for everyone.”

I'd seen a few pictures online and I knew there was a huge outdoor playscape that the kids could climb through. Maybe they meant that. It didn't seem that bad in the pictures.

When we finally arrived and I got up close and personal with the playscape, I took a closer look at what my children were going to climb through.

Oh. My. God.

Miles of rebar, metal fencing, platforms, and salvaged shards of iron welded together to form a giant human hamster run with some sharp, rusted edges, and spots that were so small, they literally had to slide through on their backs in a few places. That was just the outside. The inside was 600,000 square feet and had much of the same, only the runs disappeared into the walls and ceilings and suddenly my kids would pop up out of the floor – literally. It was insane.

I'm not quite sure why this place is called a "museum," because there isn't much there except human ant colonies. There are no maps ("Just explore!" ie, get lost). There are no signs (it took me 10 minutes to find a freaking bathroom). There are very few official looking people who look like they might be in charge.

My kids had a blast and I slowly went crazy. I've said before that I'm not a helicopter parent, but holy shit, this place was terrifying. I would put my child down a rabbit hole and have no idea where he was going to pop back out. I watched kids (and adults) crawl through cages and all I could think about was, Where are the fire exits and how would I get my kids out of here if I had to? The only thing that reassured me was that almost everything was made of metal or concrete, so there wasn't much that would burn, but still.

Adolpha was a genius at finding hidden holes and disappearing underground before I could tell her I loved her one more time.

When you arrive at the Museum, you get a wristband that says something to the effect that they are not responsible for any injuries or your death and oh by the way, please put a phone number on here where we can reach you in the event that your child gets lost. The Hubs had to stop me from putting three phone numbers on their bracelets.

As soon as we walked in the door, the kids found a little hole to disappear down. The Hubs followed them. I took five steps into the pitch black and the quickly narrowing tunnel and I started to have a panic attack. Or at least I think it was a panic attack. I don't know. I've never actually had one. I'm not one to get nervous by much, but small, dark spaces or high, wide open spaces pretty much do me in. I yelled into the tunnel, “I can't do it, Hubs! I'll see you guys at the end!” and I backtracked before more people came along and wedged me in there.

Yup. I bailed on the Hubs. It was like Sophie's Choice, only there wasn't a choice. I sacrificed the Hubs. I figured he'd be better without me freaking out.

I wandered around for a while trying to find the end of the tunnel they went down. Finally, I asked a worker where they'd pop out. She told me it might be the second or the third floor, she couldn't remember. I went up to the third floor and found two excited kids and a slightly woozy Hubs. "That was rough," he exclaimed. "It's a good thing you backed out when you did. I tried a few times, but I had people right behind me. Twice I got stuck and I wasn't sure I'd ever make it out! Oh my God, Jen!"

Oh my God is right. I think I would probably still be stuck in a dark hole somewhere in the bowels of that building if I'd gone down the hole with them. I can't imagine going to that museum if you had any sort of phobias, because this place has something for everyone:

Afraid of crowds? This place is jam-packed with people and there is no place you can go to find a quiet spot for yourself.

Afraid of losing your kids? Send them down a chute and then try to figure out where they'll pop out.

Afraid of small spaces? Crawl through this hole under the floor that warns you it gets down to only 18 inches wide.

Afraid of the dark? Jump on this pitch black slide.

Afraid of heights? Climb out on the wing of this reclaimed airplane that's several stories above the concrete ground.

Those are my kids crawling through rebar tunnels 4 stories off the ground!

Just throw a few snakes and rats down those holes and I think that will cover every fear a person might have!

This is the greatest museum ever and we can't wait to go back again when the roof deck is open this summer. Yeah, you can climb through more twisted metal on the roof - just make sure your tetanus shots are up to date!

You're Going to Want this Shit

2013-03-15T12:12:00.002-05:00

So today is a day of catching you up on all sorts of fun things that have been going on around here. I'll just warn you right now, there is a lot of bragging going on and it ain't humble, so put on your waders so you can get through this.

OK, here we go:

1. I don't know if you've heard or not, but I'm in a new book. We're kind of a big deal (in our own minds at least) and according to Amazon. Check this out:

That's not even Photoshopped! That's for real! Now, don't ask me what my house looks like this week or if my children have eaten anything besides Pirate Booty and protein bars, and I might not have showered since Monday, but I can't remember. Who cares? We're number one!!

Did you get a copy yet? You can do it here. Have you left me a review? I neeeed those. They make me feel pretty. Please think about stroking my hair in the form of a review. If you need an idea of what to say, this is a good example:

5.0 out of 5 stars Laughed so hard I peed!, March 14, 2013

leeat evenary medina - See all my reviews

This review is from: I Just Want to Pee Alone (Kindle Edition)

Hilarious, real accounts of the wondrous ride called motherhood!! The stories in the book capture the moments that are hilarious in retrospect, but at the time drove even the best mommy to drink so as not to do or say anything they'd regret! It's so wonderful to read about other moms going through the same experiences as you and handling it with humor and realism!

2. I've been nominated for a Bloggie Award. These are really important to bloggers, because they give you a house or something. Oh wait, they don't. Money? Yup. I get lots of money if I win!! Oh wait, if I win this sucker I get $20.13 in pennies.

But! I also get a huge boost to my ego and an enormous sense of personal satisfaction and I can tell that girl who picked on me in third grade to "Suck it." The voting is kind of intense, but luckily, my friend Crappy Pictures has a whole easy to follow along illustrated post to show you how to vote. Please check it out and then vote for me for WEBLOG OF THE YEAR (imagine that with the whole echo-effect) and then vote for Crappy for BEST PARENTING OR FAMILY WEBLOG. If I win, then I can use the money buy Crappy's new book.

3. I've been chosen to join the cast of Listen to Your Mother Kansas City, because I'm bossy. I will be appearing live and on stage (ack, I just threw up thinking about it) reading something really funny. Please come and see me so I'm not reading to an empty room. Here are the deets:

Listen to Your Mother Kansas City
Saturday, May 11, 2013
7-9 PM
Unity Temple the Plaza
The show is PG-13 (duh, 'cause I'll be there) so leave the little ones at home.

Tickets are $12 in advance and $15 the day of and 10% of ticket proceeds benefit the Rose Brooks Center. I am working for free. You can buy your tickets here.

If you're unfamiliar with what Listen to Your Mother is, you can read all about it here. There will be performances in many other cities, so check out your local show.

4. I am getting ready to get my read on!! I love this time of year, because it seems like everyone and their mother has a book coming out in March or April. This year I am crazy excited, because so many of my friends have books coming out. Yeah, I'm totally going to be able to brag to everyone I know that these soon-to-be best selling authors are my "friends."

Don't be jelly. These girls are bitchin (I totally think "bitchin" needs to come back and I'm making sure it does) and they can be your friends too. All you have to do is buy their books, leave them a fabulous review on Amazon, and then follow their blogs and then through the magical powers of the Internet they're your bitchin friends too!

So, go grab these books. They haven't dropped yet, but they're all available on pre-order:

Moms Who Drink and Swear: True Tales of Loving My Kids While Losing My Mind by Nicole Knepper (Moms Who Drink and Swear blog)

Motherhood Comes Naturally (and Other Vicious Lies) by Jill Smokler (Scary Mommy blog)

Parenting: Illustrated with Crappy Pictures by Amber Dusick (Crappy Pictures blog)

Companies Who Think Women are Dolts

2013-03-14T09:57:00.000-05:00

This week it has been brought to my attention that more and more companies think women are morons. It started with that stupid Bic for Her pen that comes in the adorable feminine colors: pink and purple and without a cap, because women just lose pen caps all day long.

Today I've heard about two different companies that are making a name for themselves by treating us like idiots.

The first one is the ePad Femme. What is the ePad Femme, you ask? I know it sounds like some new amazing feminine hygiene product ("Now with wings and micro-weave fibers!"), but no, it's better than that. It's a tablet designed just for our tiny hands and brains. This tablet comes with a lovely pink background and pre-loaded apps, because downloading apps is hard, yo. The pre-loaded apps are helpful ones that cover topics like grocery lists, yoga, and weight loss. You know, the important stuff. I'm surprised it doesn't come with house keeping and scrapbooking apps too. The makers of ePad Femme really dropped the ball on that one! However, I bet our husbands could help us find some sort of toilet cleaning schedule app. Now, if he could just find one to track my menstrual cycle and then this miracle device could sort of live up to its unfortunate name.

I can't remember where the "ON" button is!

Unless this tablet can make the food on my grocery list and melt inches off of my ass all while doing laundry and satisfying the Hubs in the sack, then I'm not buying it. I guess I'll just have to stick with my icky masculine tablet with all of those jumbly letters. The Hubs calls them "words," I just call them "pretty."

In case the makers of the ePad Femme didn't insult women enough, Mattel decided to tell us how inferior we are too. Mattel recently hosted a brunch in Manhattan for mommy bloggers so they could teach those dumb cows how to play with Hot Wheels cars.

See, Mattel has this theory that their sales suck, because MOMS don't know how to play with CARS with their kids.

OK, my head just exploded.

Let me say that slower so that the women who don't have a man close by to read this to them can understand: Mattel ... thinks ... Hot Wheels cars ... aren't ... selling ... because ... moms ... don't know how ... to play cars (those vroom vroom things) ... with their kids.

Yeah, those cars are so damn complicated. Yikes. What do you do with them? You can't just play with them willy-nilly. You've got to do something manly and purposeful when you play with Hot Wheels! You need to pretend to drive them to the office or to the oil rig. It's not like you can drive them to a grocery store or to pick up the kids at school.

Also, Mattel wanted to take this opportunity to teach moms about what their kids are thinking when they play with Hot Wheels cars. One mom actually said, “If there’s a company that’ll help me understand my kids better and share their content and research, I’ll give it a chance. I don’t always understand why my 2-year-old is maniacally throwing cars and then squeals with glee.” Yeah. Mattel doesn't know why your kid does that either, other than 2-year-olds like to throw stuff and squeal a lot.

Wow. Those are some big ass truck nutz you got there, Mattel. You guys suck at selling crappy little cars and then you blame moms, because we're the ones who buy the bulk of the toys?

You're right. I buy a lot of toys. Some might even say a shit ton of toys. I buy the toys my kids ask for. They ask me for all sorts of toys: building blocks, puzzles, electronic games, coloring books, ponies, and more.

Want to know what they never ask for: Hot Wheels.

Hey, Mattel, I'll give you a hint why your product doesn't sell: it's boring as hell.

Oooh, I know a way to revive your flat-lining profits! Maybe you guys should make a whole line of totes adorbs hot pink and purple cars for the girls and call them Her Wheelz and then teach the dads how to drive them to the salon and the mall!

Shameless plug alert - Have you heard that I'm in a new anthology, I Just Want to Pee Alone? Do you have a copy of it yet? You do? Great! Have you left a review for the book on Amazon yet? Still not sure this book is for you? Maybe you should read this review and then decide.

photo: free digital photo