hooey!critic

Burning Bridges

mamaneena@hotmail.com (Neena) — Wed, 28 Jul 2010 16:26:00 +0000

I think I may have unintentionally destroyed a friendship.

This past school year I was a co-leader of a very small scouting troop through my daughter's school. We were operating with very few girls and no money. After discussing the situation with my husband we've decided to transfer our daughter to another troop that operates within the county and has many of her school friends as members. I think the overall experience is going to be better for our daughter and give her many more opportunities.

Today I had to tell my co-leader I was moving troops.

And, she's very upset.

She thinks I've bailed on her and all the hard work she's put into building our troop. While I understand her reasoning I'm really trying to give my daughter the most well-rounded scouting experience possible. I emailed her and expressed how much I don't want this to destroy our friendship. Our daughters play together and we often bump into one another through school functions and what not.

I feel terrible. I'm trying to give her time to cool down before I call her to talk, but I'm really afraid I unintentionally destroyed our friendship. The interesting thing is that she could very easily transfer with me, still be a leader, and have many, many resources at her fingertips. I want us to just combine troops so that we can all still work together, but have a more optimal experience.

I'm a Libra. I don't like the waters to be muddied. I'm much more of a Can't we all just get along type of girl.

And, I just want to do what's best for my daughter.

I hate that I may lose a friendship in the process.

Time for a little whine

mamaneena@hotmail.com (Neena) — Mon, 26 Jul 2010 21:43:00 +0000

I'm sick.

Cry a river, right!?

I have finals this week, my kids have open house this week and start school a week from today, and Blogher is next week! This is not the time to be sick.

At first I thought my ickiness was just leftover from our party fun Saturday night. We were out late and a few glasses of wine were consumed. But by Sunday afternoon I knew I was about to go full battle with the creepy crud.

Thank God I worked my ass off Sunday morning to finish my final paper and presentation. That was God's way of saying 'I've got something else in store for you!"

Sadly, that something was not a pedicure and an afternoon of shopping.

Or a golden retriever.

So, here I sit all whiny and miserable. My beautiful niece came and spent the morning with us and I used any bit of wellness I had left wrangling four children and their cupcake making adventure. Once she left I crashed for a 3 hour nap.

I woke up feeling fuzzy.

Now I'm impatiently waiting for a pot of ham and bean soup to finish cooking, my husband to get home, and the start of my evening plans that include a warm bath and a couple Unisom.

Thanks for the moment of sympathy.

Don't forget about me in my time of suffering.

Goodbye forever.

Who needs to get a vasectomy when you can just stand in the Georgia heat and sweat your balls off in about an hour

mamaneena@hotmail.com (Neena) — Fri, 23 Jul 2010 22:12:00 +0000

I'm just sayin...

I think the heat is making me delirious. And I've been inside all day.

I contemplated shaving the cat just to cool things off a bit when he comes and lays with me.

I'm contemplating shaving my head for many of the same reasons.

My kids are walking around the house in their underwear because even with the air conditioning running nonstop it's too hot.

My electric bill was $395 dollars this month.

For that amount our house should be like a freaking igloo.

I think I need to stick my head in a freezer.

We were all too hot to cook tonight and too hot to really be hungry so I served cereal for dinner. I put a few marshmallows on it just to ease my own guilt.

I think I'm having a hot flash...

Yea, I'm classy.

goodbye forever.

Drift Away

mamaneena@hotmail.com (Neena) — Thu, 22 Jul 2010 22:28:00 +0000

The backpacks so meticulously chosen by little hands are hanging in the hallway. Inside them lay new and pristine supplies carefully labeled with the name of their owner. The lunch boxes sit on top the fridge waiting to be filled with all the favorite foods and snacks. And, the reusable bottles we hope will help us live a little greener are ready to be filled.

In just over a week it'll be time to return to school.

My oldest will enter the world of First Grade and my son will officially be in Kindergarten.

It's hard to believe that by the second day of August we'll be knee deep in the paperwork, projects, homework, and reading that comes with every school year. I keep wanting to shout Where did the Summer go!? The days and weeks of the season just slipped by and now I'm faced with a list of things I never quite accomplished.

The horrible and oppressive heat has kept us indoors more than we anticipated this Summer. I have all sorts of plans for afternoons in the backyard, picnics in the sun, and many bike rides in an effort to work off those training wheels. But, most afternoons we've been hunkered down inside where the air conditioning works overtime to keep us all from overheating.

I had hoped to do more swimming this Summer - which would have required us to mooch pool time from someone. Hey, the heat is exhausting - you'd be mooching, too!

I wanted to go to the park and start my running routine. There were sidewalks that begged to be filled with pictures made of chalk. My vegetable garden was supposed to be our Summer project. But, instead of accomplishing all these things we've been inside playing board games, coloring pictures, playing dress-up, and building dinosaur museums.

Sure, we've had a wonderful time - when we weren't driving each other crazy. But, our Summer is drifting away quickly...

Soon, I'll be welcoming exhausted children home in the afternoon. The heat of the school, the playground, and the bus will wear thin their normally cheerful attitudes. We'll have enough time for homework before it'll be time for dinner, baths, and beds. We'll do this routine over and over again for at least the next 15 years...

The Summers will soon be all about camps, friends, and their own agendas. They won't want to cuddle down with me on a rainy day, pretend it's cold outside, and watch The Wizard of Oz with popcorn and blankets. They'll be drifting away, too...

In the mean time I have every intention of embracing all the joys and blessings of Fall. I'll start of list of activities now so that, when the leaves and the weather begin to turn, I'll be ready to drift with my children one more good time.

I don't buy it!

mamaneena@hotmail.com (Neena) — Tue, 20 Jul 2010 00:29:00 +0000

What would you do if your spouse came home one day and announced I don't love you?

Would you separate? Would you work your hardest to save what is left of the relationship? Would you just sit in shock in an attempt to will the statement into not existing?

I sometimes wonder if something like this will ever happen to me. I don't mean that I think about this in a paranoid sort of way - more in the sense of One day he's gonna wake up and realize I'm just crazy!

Sometimes I'm so shocked that our relationship is as successful as it is that I feel like someday the other shoe will drop.

I grew up around divorce. I saw first hand the hardships of families and marriages falling apart. I saw the realities of trying to rebuild into something new and blended. It wasn't anything close to pretty - and it was about as far as one gets from a happy ending. I think that's why part of me wonders if divorce is just inevitable - even for people that love each other.

What would I do if my husband came home and announced he didn't love me? Honestly, I'd fight like hell. I'd fight with all my strength. I'd find any way possible to remind him of exactly how equally yolked we are. I'd turn to God, I'd seek help, and I'd make sure we had exhausted every possible angle before any decision was made to walk away. I'd continue to love him unconditionally.

What I wouldn't do is sit back and take it.

This is Not The Story You Think It Is by Laura Munson explores this exact situation. Faced with her husband's declaration that he no longer loves her, Munson announces that she just doesn't buy into the fact that he feels this way. She deals with the situation by passively accepting what she calls her husband's 'crisis.' Throughout the hardships Munson seems unable to take any responsibility for the fact that her marriage and her family are falling apart. She prefers to continue a materialistic existence and, even with the loss of their Montana ranch a possibility, refuses to get a job. As an unpublished writer for almost two decades, Munson honestly believes that she is entitled to an extravagant existence - and that being published would somehow be the magic wand needed.

While I appreciate the premise behind this book I felt as if something was missing. Emotion maybe? A sense of responsibility? A complete, uninterrupted thought? I'm not even sure I could say with confidence that she stood up for her marriage - her own needs maybe, but not her marriage.

Though there is a fairly positive ending to this memoir, I never actually felt a connection to the author or her plight. I felt like she kept me at a distance - just like the obese people eating junk food at the water park she refused to visit with her children. I was somehow below her - not a friend or an appreciated reader.

But, who cares! She's finally published now and that's all that matters.

Sorry, I don't buy it.

That is why I'm glad I didn't actually pay for my copy of the book. As part of the From Left to Write Book Club, formally Silicon Valley Moms Book Club, I received a copy of this book as a participatory member of the program.

Spinbrush: A review

mamaneena@hotmail.com (Neena) — Sun, 18 Jul 2010 23:35:00 +0000

Like most parents I have struggled to help my kids learn to brush their teeth thoroughly. Most often they brush for about 30 seconds and I come behind them and actually brush their teeth well.

We've tried all different ways of making the whole process easier - fun toothpaste, timers, toothbrushes of their choice. But, it's still a challenge.

Until recently...

I was offered a chance to review the Kids Spin Brush and jumped at the chance. Anything to help the kids brush better, right!?

I had originally thought about giving the toothbrush to my 6 year old, but ultimately decided to allow my 2 year old the chance to use it. I figure I still have a pretty good shot with helping her establish good oral hygiene habits.

The toothbrush is battery powered and comes with over 140 stickers so that each can be decorated to a child's interests and preferences. My daughter loved this! While I helped apply the water-safe stickers to spell out her name, she has a blast putting on a multitude of different designs. Flowers, cats, rainbows - you name it and she slapped it on there!

When it came time to actually brush her teeth I was amazed at the sudden need to be independent. She loves brushing her teeth and seems to do quite a bit better than she did before - especially for being only two years old!

Two weeks later she still loves the toothbrush! We've had a couple stickers fall off, but I think it was caused by our lack of applying them well. I'm now hoping to buy my older two children each one these toothbrushes - maybe we'll actually start the school year with better oral hygiene. Plus, with the ability to put their names on the brush there is no chance they'll get mixed up!

The Spin Brush My way retails for under $7 with a coupon available on the website. In full disclosure I was given a free Spin Brush as part of this review.

Apparently foreigners frequent patios!

mamaneena@hotmail.com (Neena) — Sat, 17 Jul 2010 04:57:00 +0000

I've only been in California for two days, but I've had some of my most memorable experiences sitting on the patio outside this swanky hotel.

The first afternoon I was here I was approached by an older Russian man who accused me of trying to photograph and record whatever business meeting he was having outside.

Yes, me with my giant camera and its inconspicuous lime green strap.

There's nothing like being accused by a thick Russian accent to make a blogger take action on the Internet. Hey Crazy Russian Guy, if you're that concerned about having your business meeting recorded by a mother then you are a) way too old school and paranoid or b) doing something you probably shouldn't in the first place, and frankly, may very well deserve a time out.

Or the Feds to investigate.

Asshole.

The next day I was approached by two lovely gentlemen from England. Now, I'm not very worldly, but trying to explain mommy blogging to two single men pretending to be gay is rather entertaining They were here on business and were fascinated by the fact that the hotel had been taken over by a bunch of mothers.

I told them about my husband, blog, and children.

They told me about black swim trunks that apparently vacuum seal all their manly bits in place when submerged in water.

They had a theory that these 'mom conferences' are just an excuse we give our husbands to frolic freely for a few days.

I found this humorous.

But, us mommy bloggers are not the types to kiss and tell...

Unless you're a Crazy Russian Man.

Then we just take our story to the Internet and hope that you get caught doing whatever it is that had you freaked enough to harass a mom.

Asshole.

Away, Away

mamaneena@hotmail.com (Neena) — Wed, 14 Jul 2010 19:55:00 +0000

Tomorrow morning I'm leaving for California!

I am heading to the Palo Alto area for a few busy, but fun filled days of learning, friendship, and probably a little trouble! There will be cocktails, dinners, and fancy hotel rooms that my husband assures me are NOT part of a typical business trip.

He should know. He's traveled a lot.

There is something called Korean Karaoke happening one night. And, with enough margaritas I'll be checking that off my bucket list by the end of the weekend.

There is a Crafts and Pajama party one night in the room of one of the girls. I'm not much for crafty stuff so I'll probably be the weird tattoo mom hanging out at the lobby bar until it doesn't seem too pathetically early to retire to my room, climb in the big bed, and munch on a frozen snickers.

I was even told that there would be a driver meeting me at baggage claim tomorrow holding a sign with my name on it. Fancy!

Well, probably not for California. But, for this Georgia girl it's pretty freaking cool!!

So, I'm off to finish packing and preparing the house and kids for a few days of Mama's absence.

Hey, California! I'd prefer you resist seducing me with your pretty scenery, wine, and whatever else it is you have out there. I can't be tempted too much - eventually I'll have to come home!

Self doubt

mamaneena@hotmail.com (Neena) — Mon, 12 Jul 2010 00:00:00 +0000

Every once in a while I feel like a fraud - especially when it comes to being back in school.

I absolutely love it - don't get me wrong. But, every so often I'm hit with this overwhelming sense that I can't do this. I finished the first year of my PhD pretty strong. I made some amazing friends and discovered a renewed love of learning. But, I'm getting closer to the really hard stuff.

And, I'm scared.

Can I really get a PhD while trying to be wholly available for my children? Do I really even know what the hell I'm doing as I try to labor through Comps and a dissertation? Is it possible to balance all the balls in the air and still come out on the other side saying it was all worth it?

I'm taking a course this Summer that has really made me doubt myself - not my beliefs, but my ability to be an intellectual.

An academic.

I hear folks discuss things in class and it sounds like their spewing intellectual nonsense from some hoity-toity academic journal. Most of the time I'm sitting there thinking 'What!?' or 'I don't get it!' I end up feeling displaced, shy, and frankly, pretty damn stupid.

I think part of this comes from the fact that this Summer I'm without my cohort - my buds - my super cool leisure party people. We'll all be reunited this Fall, but without having that sense of community and support I feel kind of lost.

And it sucks.

My dear friend once described getting a PhD like going through child labor. Just when you think you can't do it you'll push through and it will all be over.

I'm hoping that ends up being the case. But, right now I'm not sure I'm smart enough for all this academic stuff. Right now I'm missing the time when I could stay in my yoga pants, nap during quiet time, and cook a homemade meal every night.

Right now I miss my kids when I'm away from them.

I miss the time when Sundays were filled with family togetherness and not an attempt to find a quiet corner to create an annotated bibliography.

Right now I'm just doubting...

All of it.

How do you fall in love?

mamaneena@hotmail.com (Neena) — Thu, 08 Jul 2010 00:21:00 +0000

We were running errands this morning when, out of the blue, my daughter asked me a question...

Mama, how do you fall in love?

Well, someday you'll meet someone, spend time together, date for a while, and, when you're ready for a commitment, you'll decide to get married.

How old will I be when I date?

Probably not until you're 16 or 17.

How old were you when you met Daddy?

I was 19, baby.

I think I'll wait until I'm 19 to date, too. How long until you loved him?

Oh, pretty quickly.

Will I have someone to love someday?

Yes, baby. Someday you'll meet someone you love very much.

Until then I'll just love my family.

She went back to singing songs and giggling with her brother and sister. I sat quietly in the front seat saying a silent prayer - thankful for these small conversations that truly are wonderful gifts...

Weekend of Independence

mamaneena@hotmail.com (Neena) — Tue, 06 Jul 2010 01:48:00 +0000

I'd write more about our wonderful weekend of fun and family, but we just spent all day helping friends move into their new house and then proceeded to meet family for a gigantic pasta dinner. Pictures are all I can muster.

But, it was a good, good weekend.

Oh the joy of Friday...

mamaneena@hotmail.com (Neena) — Fri, 02 Jul 2010 18:57:00 +0000

I have apparently managed to piss off all my children. Every. Single. One. Of. Them. And not just a little.

Like, a whole lot.

Here's proof of my mother of the year status...

My son's head is completely wrapped up in a blanket and I'm not sure if he's sleeping or suffocated. I'm blogging instead of checking.
My oldest daughter keeps moving back and forth from the reclining chair to her bedroom as she mumbles the vast lament she feels for me. I told her not to touch the dog's bone and apparently that destroyed her world.
My youngest daughter keeps screaming at me that she needs a wedding dress. She's been yelling about it for two days and even managed to tell her brother's karate instructor that she really needs one! He just said 'Good for you for planning ahead!' She's two.
We are currently dog sitting for a friend. The result? My cats are pissed and I haven't seen them since Tuesday.

I'm sure somewhere in the midst of all this I've managed to piss off my husband, too. That might have something to do with the 47 dog adoption links I sent him while watching Animal Cops during quiet time.

But, to end on a happier note...

I am very thankful for the bottle of wine I bought at the grocery store today.

Goodbye.

p.s. there are only a few more days to go vote for me for Nickelodeon's Parent's Pick Award. I'd really appreciate some love. I mean, come one! Mother of the year right here <-------- Kthxbai.

A recent shopping trip...

mamaneena@hotmail.com (Neena) — Wed, 30 Jun 2010 13:51:00 +0000

I went to Nordstrom the other day looking for a pair of Crocs for my son. Now, I don't normally shop at Nordstrom because I tend to leave feeling like I'm the crazy, unkempt woman with no makeup and unwashed children. But, the Crocs kiosk in the mall was having a sale which meant they were sold out of every color and size my son was interested in wearing.

So off to Nordstrom we went.

As we were perusing the shoe section to find his color a woman came in with her 4 children - all of whom were washed, matching, and looked like the stepped out of a J. Crew ad. She looked like the epitome of everything I am not. She was unbelievably skinny, wore the cutest outfit, had her nails done, a designer purse on her arm, a big fat ring on her finger, and apparently all the secrets to invisible makeup.

Yes, I hated her.

But, in the midst of hating her for looking so good with four children, I caught a whiff of her perfume. It smelled amazing!!! I can't even describe the smell - it was just wonderful. I whispered to my husband that I wish I had the nerve to ask her what she was wearing, but that I was too intimidated.

"Oh, who cares! She's just a person!" he said to me.

So I walked over, tapped her on the arm and politely asked her what perfume she was wearing.

"It's called Omega," she said, "But it doesn't smell like this on everyone - only me. I get a lot of people that ask me, but I always have to tell them that it doesn't smell like this for everyone."

She told me they sold it there at Nordstrom and continued on her adventure of picking out silver high heels for her 8 year old.

Of course I had to Google this perfume as soon as I got home. I knew that I wanted to give it a try since I've been wearing Pleasures since my late teens and should probably update that part of my nonexistent beauty routine.

I kept clicking on links until I found the site with the most thorough information on this mystery scent.

Turns out it's not a perfume. Nope.

It's a man cologne.

This perfect woman in the shoe department had squirted herself down with smelly man juice.

And for that moment I felt slightly better about myself.

Monday Morning, 7:21 am

mamaneena@hotmail.com (Neena) — Mon, 28 Jun 2010 14:39:00 +0000

Me: (sitting quietly on the couch attempting to subdue my morning coma with coffee)

Hubby: Can I ask you a heavy question?

Me: -----

Hubby: Do you know what an archetype is?

Me: -----

Hubby: Name a archetype that you would consider to be one of the cornerstones of society. If you strip it all down to just the basics of what you need for a functioning society, if you will, what would it be?

Me: Why are you being so heavy, man!? It's 7:00 in the morning!

Hubby: Well, I warned you it was heavy.

Me: -----

Hubby: Are you gonna blog this?

The end.

eight

mamaneena@hotmail.com (Neena) — Fri, 25 Jun 2010 10:00:00 +0000

Eight years ago this man was crazy enough to say yes.

He said yes to forever.

He promised me the world and he delivered the universe.

To say I love him doesn't even being to explain what I feel...

But, it's a start...

I love you, Andy. It's been an amazing journey and I can't wait to see where it takes us.

Happy Anniversary, Baby.

Who's reading?

mamaneena@hotmail.com (Neena) — Thu, 24 Jun 2010 23:42:00 +0000

When I first began blogging a few years ago I made a promise to myself. I promised that I would never censor my blog based on those that were reading it. I always wanted this to be my space and I never wanted the audience to influence that.

It can be intimidating at times knowing that my in-laws might be reading my personal vagina monologues, but hey, that comes with the territory. Hell, even my professors drop by on occasion (Hi, Peggy!) I've shared my own array of embarassment, talked about my kids and their, um, endearing qualities, and I've even dropped the F-Bomb on occassion.

Fuck.

Sorry. Just making a point.

The other day I was reading updates on facebook and I came across an update from a dear friend of mine who also happens to blog:

My mother-in-law doesn't like when I use self-deprecating humor or point out my children's misbehavior in my posts. Since my posts have been fairly serious for the past few weeks, this one is long overdue! Sorry, C! :)

I immediately responded with a humorous note about how much this poor woman would hate my blog, but told my friend I adored her post. But, the more I thought about this the more I was troubled.

My friend is fairly new to blogging and she's quite amazing. She has a way of looking at the world that she can capture with words like nobody I've ever read. Some of the stories she shares are laughable antics about the craziness of raising her three babies. Some of her stories are extremely insightful about the world around her. Bottom line: she's brilliant and I'm glad she's found an outlet.

But, all I could picture was her mother-in-law almost coaching her on what she should and should not share with the world. I could picture chatting on the phone or over dinner and hearing "Honey, I think you should really not share those types of things about your kids. They're beautiful and you should only share the positive aspects."

And that is appalling!

One of the most appealing aspects of blogging is the freedom - the ability to share the good and the bad. Having this outlet is something so many of us treasure. It's our safe haven, our home in a sense. When someone questions or suggests we share certain things they are inflicting their own type of censorship. That removes the power and the bond that comes with writing in this manner.

As mothers we NEED to share the stories that aren't always wrapped in a pretty bow. We need to embrace those moments that are chaotic, loud, and full of doubt and tears. We expose ourselves in a way that allows us to have a sense of virtual solidarity with an audience that accepts us for who we are, faults and all.

We need to be that radical with our words and our space.

Without the ability to do so we've squashed what it is we're trying to do here. And, by censoring ourselves in any way we don't choose for ourselves is, I believe, irreversibly damaging.

I was thrilled to know that she went ahead and published the post she knew her mother-in-law would rather not see. She may have made light of the whole situation, but the bottom line was that she didn't allow her mother-in-law's feelings influence her ability to hit 'publish.'

And that is deserves a virtual high five.

Out of respect for my friend I did ask if I could link to her blog before publishing this, but with or without her permission my words stayed the same.

Not the big kid

mamaneena@hotmail.com (Neena) — Wed, 23 Jun 2010 19:52:00 +0000

Last night Hubby took the older two kids to see Toy Story 3. I stayed home with our baby girl.

Sometimes it hard to be the littlest one. Sometimes it would just be easier to be big. Sometimes getting left out is enough to break a little heart.

If only this was the worst heartbreak she'd ever face...

I think my heart might need a band aid, too.

This is like a triple dog dare

mamaneena@hotmail.com (Neena) — Mon, 21 Jun 2010 18:20:00 +0000

5 bucks to anyone that can tell me what the hell this stuff is...

10 bucks to anyone that sends me a picture of them eating it...

He is their daddy...

mamaneena@hotmail.com (Neena) — Sun, 20 Jun 2010 02:08:00 +0000

I never considered Father's Day to be a big a deal until I watched this man become one...

From the first moment he ever held his baby girl...
To the countless times he's wrapped them in his arms to comfort them...
This man was meant to be a daddy.

He does it with such ease and grace and humility.
He makes wounds and tears and frustrations disappear...
He's the source of so much of their laughter and joy.

He reads them books and helps them seek out answers to their questions...
His curiosity has translated to each of them...
His sweet heart transplanted to three.

I love you, Andy. You are the reason we celebrate. You are the reason they are here. You are all that is good and positive. You're a big deal...

Someone should have told me today's theme was my ass

mamaneena@hotmail.com (Neena) — Wed, 16 Jun 2010 16:41:00 +0000

I woke up in the middle of the night last night completely on fire. As a reward for finishing all the laundry (yahoo!) I broke out in a horrible rash thanks to a new fabric softener.

Snuggle, my ass!

My hands were covered in welts the size of dimes and my thighs looked like I was having a severe allergic reaction or a delayed STD from my pre-married days. As I searched the bathroom for some benedryl and cortisone cream I was forced to rush to the toilet in a mass effort to relieve the obvious revenge of something I ate the day before.

Timing is a bitch!

Once I figured it was safe to return to bed I attempted to wake up Hubby.

Are you asleep?

Are you asleep?

HONEY! Are you asleep?

Obviously he couldn't do much, but I needed a sympathetic audience at that point. Plus, I couldn't find the benedryl.

Being the loving husband he is, he found the baby benedryl and said here, chug this before immediately going back to sleep.

Thanks, Honey. Really.

By this morning everything was worse. I made an appointment at the doctor hoping they could do something. As I attempted to wrangle the kids into the car so we could get to the doctor on time I had an experience.

A slow motion, bug-eyed experience.

For a single moment I relaxed just a bit.

And the result was me. Shitting my pants. In the garage.

Apparently revenge was not yet reached.

Mortified, I ran inside and changed, the whole time thinking Even my potty training 2 year old doesn't shit her pants! The kids are shouting Mama, you're walking funny! as I try to keep from, um, dripping on my way to the safety of the bathroom.

We then hurried to the doctor where I was taken back rather quickly considering I looked like I had Hulk hands. The doctor came in and examined my rash in all its numerous places (because yes, it's spreading) and decided a steroid shot would do for today followed by a prescription for the next 6.

Okay. I can handle a shot.

The nurse come back with the shot and informs me that my buttocks is the only place "strong enough" to take that much medicine. All three of my kids jump out of their chairs and start cheering.

Cheering!

Mommy's getting a shot in her booty! Cool!

They rush over to the table I'm asked to bend over and watch as the nurse administers the shot. I hear one of them ask Can I help put the bandaid on!? As if it's as cool as licking the spoon when baking.

The nurse lets them.

She's lets my children put a bandaid on my ass as I bend over the table. They're laughing. I'm trying to keep them from dying from humiliation while my ass is in the air only to turn around and notice the big, giant mirror on that was that has magnified my bare ass for all to see in its florescent light glory. Charlotte starts making her anatomically correct pig toy dance around my ass and the older two are shouting Give her another one!

I swear they'd sell me up the river if the price was right. Or someone offered them sugar.

Besides they saw me shit my pants and flash my ass all before noon on a Wednesday.

I think my work here is done.

*On a side note this is my Six hundredth and sixty sixth post - 666 - isn't that evil!*

It's Virtually Safe

mamaneena@hotmail.com (Neena) — Sun, 13 Jun 2010 22:32:00 +0000

While I'm sure its existence predates my memory, my first experience with the Internet didn't come until the mid to late 90's. I was in high school at the time and the Internet was still something you were charged for by the hour.

It was the days of AOL. America's online, people! Come experience all the wonders of chat rooms, websites, and cyberspace.

Me, being the naive girl that I was, honestly assumed that anyone and everyone I ran across online was genuine. If someone said they were a 17 year old boy from Michigan looking for a pen pal I believed them. If a chat room was labeled "I love books" I figured everyone inside was talking about, well, books.

What I quickly discovered, though, was the unmistakable connection between the Internet and Sex. Almost immediately after being introduced to a chat room or instant message I was asked about my boobs, my cup size, or if I was interested in seeing *Insert Screen Name Here's* johnson.

Um, no thank you, "sir." I'm underage.

It wasn't until many year later when I became a parent that I realized how scary the Internet can be for children. Stories appeared regularly in the news about the horrors happening online - teens live streaming their suicides, men attempting to harm young girls, the extreme effects of cyberbullying. It's enough to make any parent person sick to their stomach! It's becoming a scary place that requires parents, schools, and lawmakers to establish rules for safety, security, and awareness.

I'm lucky that my children are still young enough that their Internet usage is limited to a small amount of time that is always supervised! They know the Internet as a place to play educational games, a spot to find cool coloring pages, and a way to Skype with Grandma. They have no concept of the bad that exists and I'd like to keep it that way.

For now.

But, as they grow older and realize there is an entire world out there beyond what we've exposed them to, it's our job as parents to arm them with the tools they need to deal with such environments. It is our job as parents to say No, you don't need to be on Facebook at 12 year old! or You're too young to have a computer in your room! It is our job to not allow them unlimited access to a world they can't even comprehend or control.

We have that right as parents.

And we have that power.

For the safety of our children we must exercise it!

We'd be stupid not to!

This post was inspired by National Internet Safety Month and Yahoo! Motherboard's topic of the month: Internet Safety and Cyberbullying. For more information on Internet Safety please check out Yahoo! Safety.

Pure Awesomeness, Indeed!

mamaneena@hotmail.com (Neena) — Thu, 10 Jun 2010 21:55:00 +0000

I was twittering around yesterday when I cam across a tweet from the lovely MammaMania. I clicked the link for no other reason than I was fascinated by her words:

Don't think I'm a Nerd, just because I have like, noticed this

It led me to a video featuring a poem by Taylor Mali...

Typography from Ronnie Bruce on Vimeo.

And it led me to realize that the world is still full of great minds.

Great Artists.

And, powerful creative voices.

Hats off, Taylor.

Wordless Wednesday: The Chicks in my Women's Studies Class Would Probably Find These Uber-Offensive. I, On The Other Hand, Think They Are Hilarous.

mamaneena@hotmail.com (Neena) — Wed, 09 Jun 2010 13:10:00 +0000

this might be why they don't like me...

or perhaps it's because I use the word 'chicks'

The Dorky Kids

mamaneena@hotmail.com (Neena) — Sun, 06 Jun 2010 23:25:00 +0000

Subtitled: So you slip then you slide? I don't get it!

They're my dorky kids.

And I love them to bits!

Dude, where's my pants?

mamaneena@hotmail.com (Neena) — Fri, 04 Jun 2010 01:41:00 +0000

Before we went on our little family vacation I had to run a bunch of errands. Since I had to drag the kids with me from place to place I decided to let them look through the toy section at Target once we were done with our shopping.

It was my good mom moment.

Hey kids, here's a bunch of toys you can look at that Mama's not going to buy you! Good times!

It wasn't long after we started looking when I ran across this toy:

I whipped out my phone in the middle of Target and started yelling Where are his pants!?!

Seriously, though, what's wrong with this toy? I find myself so disturbed by the fact that Plastic Man has no pants.

And apparently trouble closing his backwards corset.

How on Earth can you be a superhero and a role model for kids with no pants, a lady-shirt that won't cinch, and no shoes???

Perhaps if they want to learn about cross dressing.

Or looking slightly emo.