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Next Life, NO Kids: October 2012

October 29, 2012

My house smells like a latrine, and everyone is crying.

My latest post partum obsession is that my house smells like a dirty diaper. I don't want to have people over and when I do, my first question is usually, "Does it smell in here?" I'm a mess, lighting candles that mine as well be shit scented because it's a lost battle. My house smells like a latrine, and everyone is crying.

Jordan is crying because he's two months old and that's what babies do. He cries when he's hungry and when he's wet and when he's tired and doesn't want to sleep. He's really is a great baby and I'm REALLY lucky that he can communicate his needs and the knowledge of what each cry signifies. When he does finally give up the fight for sleep, he cries when Nicholas Jr. wakes him up, usually by stomping around or yelling directly into his face. He cries when he is startled, even when awake, by a large bang or scream, when his brother or sister hears the word "No", which lately is quite often because they're both throwing tantrums on the daily. 

I'm crying because it's all I want to do lately. I'm struggling with the feeling of utter failure as a woman, mother, and wife and cannot handle ANY criticism AT ALL. If Nick comes home and even exhales too loud I convince myself that it's due to his complete disappointment in me and that he's going to leave me. He assures me that he's just breathing and then I feel crazy which makes me cry even more. Post partum depression is amazing. 

Nicholas Jr. is crying because he has recently become hyper-fascinated with that stupid Japanese show WipeOut. He's flying off the couch, smashing his head and face off of everything, and making obstacle courses in my living room to bounce all over. He's hurting himself constantly and then, as soon as he stops crying about the injury of the moment, he's back up on the arm of the couch. I can strangely identify with this self-injurious behavior, but for entirely different reasons and I hate that fucking show with a fiery passion at this point. I feel like I've become that annoying mother of the four year old on the plane in that Bill Cosby stand up routine in "HIMSELF".  

Jeffrey is replaced with Nicholas and he is three years old. 

I say his name 900 times a day followed by "no", "don't", "please", "give me", "if you don't", "get down", "stop running/jumping/banging/drumming/ playing golf in the house/yelling"one...", "two...", "you gonna make me say three?". "NO MORE WIPEOUT". "Get out of the baby's face, he's trying to sleep, please don't yell in his face, he's sleeping." I often remember those Calgon commercials and pray to be taken away, but sadly it never works.

At the end of the day when my husband comes home I don't even want to greet him because I don't want to say Nicholas anymore. I usually start crying moments after he steps through the door on days like this. Today is a day like this. 

Corinne is crying because she's sixteen and everyone in the world is against her. No one is ever on her side and she's on to the fact that we're all conspiring to ruin her life. Nothing is ever fair, curfew is never late enough, and we NEVER give her anything she wants or needs. She does not, of course, literally cry, with tears, but rather more often whining about how the world has wronged her yet again. I am a terrible mother, her father is useless, and my husband is weak because he would rather compromise than argue. 

I imagine Nick Sr. is crying on the inside. I can't imagine that he doesn't want to cry all of the time. If not from dealing with all of the sobbing and drama, at least from the constant smell of shit.

God help us. 

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October 27, 2012

Failing Amanda Todd

Once again, we have failed our youth. 

How this shit keeps happening, I do not understand. The story of Amanda Todd is one of the saddest stories; mostly because there were so many opportunities to help this young girl. She gave us chance after chance to help her, and we failed to listen. Granted, I do not know the whole story. I wasn't there, and I don't know anyone who was, but the fact that she is STILL being cyber-bullied even after she committed suicide and it's being tolerated, is absolute bullshit
What the fuck is wrong with us? Here's a teen trying her best to cope with tremendous amounts of hate, and asking for help. We allowed her to be blasted all over Facebook and now we're allowing people to attack her memory.

There are pages on Facebook mocking Amanda's suicide. I have spoken to several people who have reported the nasty posts on her remembrance pages, and have heard that Facebook is doing NOTHING about them. I myself attempted to report a page titled "Better drink Bleach"**. In order to report "hate speech" on Facebook, you must select race, gender, etc. Then, if the hate speech "qualifies" as such, Facebook gives you the option to either send the hateful person an email (WHAT?) or block them (which, I'm sorry...does what?) Oh, so I don't have to actually see the terrible, nasty, horrible things being written about me online, but everyone else can? This is awful. Here is the response I got from Facebook: 


Thanks for your recent report of a potential violation on Facebook. After reviewing your report, we were not able to confirm that the specific page you reported violates Facebook's Statement of Rights and Responsibilities.

Learn more about what we do and don't allow by reviewing the Facebook Community Standards: https://www.facebook.com/communitystandards.


Give us feedback to let us know how we are doing: https://www.facebook.com/survey/take.php?survey_id=242477152482072&cid=414464338619360"

This is crazy. How can an entire page, clearly aimed at mocking a 15 year old girl's suicide attempt NOT be a violation of even under the most lenient standards? I am so embarrassed for my generation. We're raising monsters. How does one hear that another human being drank bleach to end her life and then encourage her to try a different brand next time? I don't want to understand the thought process that goes into treating another person like this, but what are we doing about it? I'm fired up about this, and know that something needs to be done. I do not pretend to know what that thing is, or even where to start, but I have to believe we can change this.

Dear Amanda,

I'm so sorry the we failed you. Please look upon others here on Earth being tortured by bullies, and give them strength. Please bless us with some direction, and fill our heads with ideas that can help them. 

Be with God, Sweet Girl, and know that neither your life or death were in vain. 

The Facebook page "Better drink Bleach" was FINALLY removed.

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Feeling Great All The Time Is For Pussies.

I did an hour of yoga this morning and feel fantastic. I have been suffering for three weeks straight with pain in my hip flexor every single time any pressure was placed on my left foot. This pain is now completely gone after one simple hour of laying on a mat in my living room, with a towel, chair, and pillow watching Fios On Demand. I always feel great after taking positive action and/or doing something for me. So, the question is why didn't I do this weeks ago? 

It is always after an experience like this one that I wonder why I don't do more of this "stuff" and feel great all the time. The only answer I have been able to come up with is that feeling great all the time is for pussies. Feeling superb constantly would be no fun. What on Earth would I complain about during social interactions? How could I possibly relate to another human being if I felt great all the time? How dreadful.

Taking action on a daily basis to feel fantastic would be a silly waste of time. Tough guys suffer through the muck and come out on the other side better people right? I have heard the word "suffer" many times in my life shined in a positive light, during moments of pain that made me feel like I was contributing something to my life BECAUSE of it. My mother used to comb through my ass length hair every night when I was a girl. She would place the skinny teeth of the comb at the top of my head and pull downward without mercy. Any and all complaints during this ritual was met with the phrase "Beauty must suffer". Got it. In order to be beautiful, I must suffer. Nietzsche said that "To live is to suffer, to survive is to find some meaning in the suffering". Okay, so if I wish to survive I must suffer and make some sense of this suffering, got it. If I want my life to mean anything, if I want to be a person of substance, I must suffer. This idea is stupid and I could not disagree more after an hour of yoga stretches, but why can't I get there before? Could it be the recovering Catholic in me? I must suffer the agonies of every day because I'm a wicked sinner? Maybe, but probably not.

Perhaps I'm simply a tough guy. I'm so tough that I can withstand three weeks of complete torture with every step even though I know it could be rectified in an hour.  Perhaps my character was strengthened over those weeks while I limped and hobbled around like a 95 year old pirate with a peg leg. Who knows? Truth be told, I have learned from this experience and I suppose it was worth it. I have learned that I am a lazy glutton for punishment, a complainer, and a drag. I have also made the decision that just for today, I am willing to change this ridiculous behavior and be more open to feeling great. Obviously, I'm not ready to feel great all of the time, but maybe in small doses at first. This I'm sure will be followed up by an inevitable slip or ten, but I will also allow myself to be a work in progress. 

Besides, feeling great all the time is for pussies.

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October 26, 2012

Teen-aged Girls Are Like The Devil In Human Form

I am the mother of a teenage girl. I wake up almost every morning in disbelief. Like, when in the fuck did that happen?? Surely there's been a mistake. For the past few years I've spent a great deal of time wishing her real mother would come and get her.

I understand the ridiculous dynamics that accompany mother/daughter relationships because this is my second, but sadly this knowledge and experience does not arm me with the necessary skills to maneuver it. I put my poor mother through the wringer when I was a teenager, and said the most terrible things directly to her face. I hated her guts and was 100% certain she was definitely to blame for everything wrong in my life.

I was so awful, my mother cursed me very early on with some sort of hex; something about hoping one day I would have a daughter just like me. The words "just... like... you" still ring in my head like as if they were spoken over a cauldron or some shit.  

UGH. It feels dirty. And also it worked. 

My daughter is just. like. meOf course she's been blessed with my favorite qualities, holy shitstorm... she also possess some of my worst. She's like the hybrid version of the wretched human I was at her age.

Naturally, our house is no stranger to Hatred, Cruelty, and Sarcasm. There are dirty basketball socks, bras, trash, and half empty water bottles hidden all over the place, and they all belong to "not mine." No one seems to be responsible.

I hear things like "Shut your mouth/the hell up" and/or, "You should kill yourself" on a pretty regular basis. I have learned not take much of it personally. I get that I am the enemy of fun and coolness, and literally everything about me is lame. Apparently, there is absolutely nothing good about me, and to top it all off, I am also stupid. 

I used to think that I was pretty smart, funny, and terribly witty, but I was wrong. It is obnoxiously clear to my daughter that am I none of these things, and I'm extremely annoying.

I suppose having to deal with me on a daily basis is stressful enough for the poor kid, so I try to cut her some slack. After all, the world has gone straight to Hell, and I cannot imagine having to be seventeen in today's society. I would rather play leapfrog with a unicorn than step foot into her high school as a grown-ass woman, never mind as a teen. The air is polluted with pressure and judgment and I'm sure if the walls could talk they'd beg to be relocated somewhere less horrifying.

Let's face it, if being a teenage girl was easier, I probably wouldn't be 35 with a seventeen-year-old daughter. I remember the deafening noise; the disgusting amount of demands for perfection and popularity. I wore fake, bright red, Sally Jessie Raphael glasses in 7th grade for God's sake, and was beyond devastated when the perfect Monique called me out in front of the entire class for pretending to be blind. I will not pretend to have any idea what possessed me to think that was a good idea, but I most certainly did. Those glasses were going to be my "in" with Monique, because she wore glasses.  She was supposed to love them and they were meant to bond us. Not so much. That, and the reasoning behind super-gluing the backs of earrings to my teeth and running a paper clip through them (to look like braces), is what keeps me in therapy to this day.

Being a teenage girl sucks. PERIOD.

It takes my daughter a year to figure out what she's going to wear in the morning, and as much as I want to tell her that it won't matter in five years, I know it matters now. I would love for her to understand that the only reason people are so judgmental is because they are themselves full of self-doubt and insecurity. My high school career would have been A LOT easier if I had been able to understand that. I probably wouldn't have assaulted as many people.  :o/

The most amazing part of all of this is that she can't possibly comprehend it any more than I could have at her age. How unfair is it that during the most difficult, frustrating, confusing, gut wrenching, scary as shit time in our lives, our brains are not developed enough to deal with anything? WTF?! Who was ever in charge of those decisions? FIRED. Someone should really set out to find a cure for teenagism. That might be a bazillion dollar discovery. Let's work on an earlier development of the frontal lobe instead of all of these weight loss and hard on pills. I'd much rather have the gift of logic than an erection any day, but that's just me.

So, the truth is that I am afraid for and of my beautiful daughter. She has everything I did when I was her age; although I fear she's much smarter than I ever was. We have long talks (when she's not possessed) about the poor choices she sees so many other girls making and how sad is can be to watch. You see, I have been blessed to have had a daughter that is quite a lot like me AND the unique opportunity to have raised her with all of my life experience. She is like the hybrid version of me at seventeen with the same amount of ambition (zero). It baffles my mind that I was already her mother when I was her age and how awfully grown up I felt. It's insane! If it's true that most teen mothers raise teen mothers, I have successfully broken that cycle and for that I am proud of both of us. 

I know that I'm a good mother, which is one of the reasons she hates me so much, but there is definitely nothing easy about it. I know it's normal to want more for my kids than I had or did. It is also quite normal to find it difficult to step back and hope I've done enough. Normal however is a very stupid word that means nothing when I'm up to our eyeballs in it. That's the word I hear most often when in discussion about this topic.  Crazy teens are "normal"; how comforting. What I also hear, which is a bit more helpful, is that "this too shall pass."

I'm not holding my breath.

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October 25, 2012

It's Official...Next Life, NO Kids

I was in the bathroom yesterday blow drying my hair when my gorgeous little preschooler came in to keep me company. I had just plugged in the straightener and put it up to the ridiculous setting I use keep my fro in check, when he looked up with his cute little face and said, "What's that?"

"That's Mommy's," I said. "Don't touch it because it's very hot." 

You're probably wondering what he did next. 

Exactly. He pointed his chubby little index finger out and landed it right on the straightener. Luckily, I had just turned it on so it did not result in a horrible burn, but it was at that very moment I made the decision. 

Next life, NO kids. 

Please don't get me wrong. I love all of my children more than life, but let's be super honest. Being a mother is not an easy job, and sometimes it really sucks. For the first few years it is a thankless job including, but not limited to, being covered in someone else's shit and vomit

I do not regret having children, nor do I regret the devotion of my entire life to being a mother, milk supply, cook, cleaning and laundry lady, ass wiper, fashion consultant, therapist, chauffeur, and sometimes door mat. 

I really do love my life and all of the blessings that God has bestowed upon me and my amazing family. I would just like to know what it feels like to not have a care in the world for a minute...and take a shit by myself.

That being said, I am devoting my next life to being selfish. 

I am going to live like an empty grocery bag in the wind. I will enjoy the freedoms to skip town to join Sigourney Weaver in the fucking jungle to chat it up with gorillas, or spend a month with Julia Roberts in an ashram if I want to. 

In my next life, it will not be my first instinct to put my hands out when someone is about to throw up. I will not ever use my saliva to remove a mark on someone's face, and I will not think that using my sleeve to wipe a snotty nose is a viable option. I will eat cake and refuse to share. I will take a ton of naps, baths, and shits; and I will do so ALONE

Going to the bathroom will not be a social event in my next life. I will not elect to watch anyone else take a dump or offer to wipe their ass when they are finished. 

I will commit to dropping everything at least once a year, pointing to a map with my eyes closed, and allowing fate to decide where I land. I will be less ignorant about other people and cultures and I will experience what life is like in others' shoes.

Yes, that's right, in my next life I will be a fat, independently wealthy, well traveled, educated, humble, selfish person. 

It's going to be fucking awesome.

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October 12, 2012

Dear Oprah, The world has gone to Hell.

It's amazing how much television has gone to shit. Did The Today Show really just dedicate seven whole minutes whether Rhiana is banging Chris Brown again? Did they then fall further into the trash heap gossiping about the Nikki Minaj/Mariah Carey "scandal'? Holy shit. With the election a month away, it is shocking the amount of ridiculousness being blasted all over television. Granted, I think we can all agree that a break from the political shit slinging/pissing contests is much needed, but seriously?


While walking through the mall yesterday, I actually saw a Jersey Shore trivia game on sale. If that just got your excited, I'm sorry to be the one to break this to you, but you're an asshole. Can someone PLEASE explain to me why I would want to spend an evening answering questions for points about a house full of attention whores? That in itself is "The Situation"...a serious one. Look, I just made up a question for the game.

Q: If I just bought this game, should I question all of the decisions I've ever made in my life leading up to its purchase?

A: Definitely. Here's a list of good therapists in your area. Call immediately.

What is wrong with us? 

Are we so insecure and in need of distraction that we've become this desperate for "entertainment"? Why is a little girl named Honey Boo Boo working her chubby little butt into adult conversations? Do we not all understand that this poor girl is a victim? Hi Sweetie, the world is laughing at you and nobody cares enough to stop it. 


I welcome taking a break between questions regarding whether Elizabeth Warren ever danced around a fire with a peace pipe, and/or wondering if Grandma will fall into the 47% that Romney doesn't give a shit about. 

I just wish we could find a better way.

Why is it that no one is thinking about how many teenaged girls are trying to get themselves pregnant in time to audition for the 20th season of Teen Mom?  WTF! 

Arnold Schwarzenegger just wrote a book about his life? Fascinating.

Hulk Hogan made a sex tape that somehow went viral? That's fucking gross.

News flash people, these stories are NOT scandalous, they're sad. Let us feel sorry for the mothers of Honey Boo Boos and washed up actors "leaking" videos of themselves just to get their names in the "news". Wow, we almost forgot about you because everyone and their grandmother is fighting for 15 minutes of fame/infamy, but thank goodness you reminded us that you're still hungry for more. Let us pray for these people; that they might find some peace and acceptance of their commonness. Scandalous is no longer scandalous and folks are needing to raise the bar in order to make a splash. 

Being proud to be an American is challenging lately. Freedom is awesome, but unfortunately it comes along with the right to be a douche bag. :(

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