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Next Life, NO Kids: March 2016

March 30, 2016

20 Things Moms Say That No One Should

"Relax so I can see your butt hole" is not something I ever thought I would have to say out loud. Let's be honest about the fact that if there is a list somewhere of shit no one should ever have to say, that might be number one. Motherhood has me not only searching for weird rashes on squirming little asses and removing mayonnaised cheese from our flat screen tv, but has also made these totally inappropriate things seem freakishly appropriate. 

It's insanity.

Suddenly things I never imagined even thinking about are casually flowing from my lips on the daily.

Here are some of my personal faves just from this week... 


1. "Please get your head out of the toilet before you fall in."

 
2. "Why is there poop on the wall...AGAIN?!"

3. "I know you're going to miss me when I'm dead. 
Thanks for reminding me... again"


4. "I promise to be very careful not to clip your 
testicles while cutting your finger nails this time."

via GIPHY 

5. "We do not eat ABC gum we find on the floor at Target."


6. "Please stop telling your brother you're going 
to squeeze all his blood out..."


7. "Your bedroom wall is not for boogers."

via GIPHY  

8. "The toilet is not a toy."


9. "I'm flattered, but I can't marry you... because I'm your mother." 


via GIPHY

10. "Seriously, get out of the [fucking] toilet."


via GIPHY

Here are some of my favorite quotes from your house last week...


(Courtesy of Lea Grover, Becoming SuperMommy)

via GIPHY

2. "Bologna is not wallpaper."  
 (Courtesy of Jessica Barmes)

 3. "Get the cat out of the fridge!"
(Courtesy of Angel Ybarra)
   
4. "Get your finger out of your butt."  
(Courtesy of Julie M Goodwin)

via GIPHY

5. "Holding your middle finger up and showing it to 
everyone in Great Clips is not using your words.”   
(Courtesy of Catrina Risner Hazelbaker)

via GIPHY 

6. "Stop picking your nose and wiping it on your sister's face.”  
(Courtesy of Jen Giorgi)


7. "I don't want to be licked right now." 
(Courtesy of Eliza Wagner Srestha)  


via GIPHY

8. "The toilet brush is not a magic wand.
Please stop casting spells with it."
(Courtesy of Cristina Stewart) 

via GIPHY

9. "Don't let the dog lick your butt."
(Courtesy of Joanne Hall Robertson)


via GIPHY

10. "Why are there seashells in your diaper??"
(Courtesy of Jennifer Ficken-Brown)

via GIPHY
 
Obviously this list could go on forever, but I have to get my three year old out of the toilet again.


Thanks to all who submitted! It's super nice to know I'm not the only one saying some of this awful stuff. It's also somewhat comforting to know your kids are just as disturbingly obsessed with the toilet. 

Seriously. What's so fucking magical about the toilet?!?
Nobody knows.

Just please remember, we're all in this motherhood thing together. Let's be nice to one another. We never know what ridiculousness a mom has just had to listen to or say, and we can all totes use a high-five and/or an "Attah Girl." 



If you're not into the whole mom-shaming thing, but are into the idea that a whole bunch of strong, kick-ass mamas could totally join together in imperfect harmony to support each other without judgment and shaming, click below and check out our incredible group! 

http://www.facebook.com/groups/mommitment


http://www.nextlifenokids.com/2014/03/20-things-i-learned-on-my-36th-birthday.html
25 Things I Learned on my 36th Birthday

 I Was Never A Monster
 
http://www.nextlifenokids.com/2014/07/10-hilarious-tips-for-surviving-your.html
 10 Hilarious Tips For Surviving "The Toddler Years"


http://www.nextlifenokids.com/2013/03/a-letter-to-my-sister-mother-to-be.html
 Letter to A Nervous Mother-to-Be






 

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March 02, 2016

I'm Super F*cked Up

I'm spiraling. 

I cringe just even typing that; in full projection of how many people might respond with how sorry they are to hear I'm "having a hard time." The truth is, I'm not. 

Spiraling is easy. It's what I do. 

I go and I go, and I give and I give, and then I crash. History has shown me, time and again, that I don't have the slightest idea how to stop it. I just know it's coming. 

To be fair, I have made some progress over the years. Each time it happens, I catch myself faster, find discomfort sooner, and slow the free-fall train to Total Uselessness. Although, the grace period - however shortened - is always far more painful and exhausting than the last -- because I should know better. This cycle leaves me feeling completely insane, wondering how the fuck I could have possibly let this happen again. I mean, really

I'm a fairly intelligent person. I'm super self-aware and intuitive. I've overcome alcoholism, gotten a pretty decent handle on an interesting dissociative disorder, and have survived my daughter's teen years. 

 I'm practically a goddamned super hero.


Self-care, however, is terribly baffling.

I was physically ill last week, which is a typical declaration of limits reached that even I can't ignore. Sickness seems to always proceed a bout of emotional red flags - flags I acknowledge while I jog right past (maybe even waving), making note that I definitely need to slow down a bit and learn to say the word no...tomorrow. Inevitably though, my dedication to providing comfort to complete strangers wins out, and I put off whatever it is until I'm knocked unconscious. 

Then comes the hiding, which I have mastered. I over-eat. I under-eat. I start smoking cigarettes again, hate myself for it and quit, and then start again. I crawl out from under this heavy picture of "good person," and grapple with what it might take to be a great one.

My only saving grace is that even while I'm falling to pieces, abusing and neglecting myself, people let me know I'm helping them by being open and honest about how completely fucked up I am. If anyone can find a way to make their demise some kind of public fucking service, it's me. 

Wait for the best part. I can't even take credit for anything I do. 

During a recent conversation, I was explaining all the incredible ways we help women with Sober Mommies. The woman stopped me mid-sentence and asked, "Who's we?" I paused, and then asked her to replace every "we" with "I," then realized I never say the words "I do" when discussing all that I do

You'll also never hear me talking about all the things without painting myself into a lunatic in need of immediate psychiatric intervention. It can't just be that I was built for service. It can't just mean that I might be a genuinely incredible person. The only viable conclusion for all that I put myself through to help others is UTTER INSANITY.

I know I've written about this a million times, and you might be as sick of reading about it as I am of admitting to it.  I have declared enough is enough every. single. time...just to get right back up and get myself all twisted up again. I understand that there's no fail in process, but I might be the slowest learner ever

I've almost conceded to the fact that this is how I might live out the rest of my existence. Martyring myself out like a cheap hooker, in hopes that someday I might feel worthy of the attention I show others. That idea is so warped I wonder if I might actually be certifiable. 

It makes total sense that I used to view psych wards as vacation spots, away from the driving forces that keep me from silence and solace. I like noise. I thrive in chaos, and the life I have created for myself (to be rid of it) has only allowed me the opportunity to grasp at it via other people every day. 

I've spent years trying to psychoanalyze all the fucked up reasoning behind my terrific lack of self-love. I have exhausted countless hours in soft chairs while threading sharp, invasive needles throughout every moment I can remember that might keep me stuck here. I have thrown money at expensive head shrinks who've guided me through interviews with my subconscious mind for fuck's sake. I mean, where better to get the inside scoop, right? 

I've checked all the dark spots for the reason I'm like this. Not even, sadly enough, because I don't adore the life of Mother Theresa, but simply because I know someday soon it is going to literally kill me. And after I'm gone, what if everything I've done isn't enough? What if all the people I've loved, helped, and spent my life killing myself for forget me? What then?  


I'm super fucked up.

So, I guess I'll just keep running on the insanity wheel, feeling unable to jump off, praying for it to break so I can have a few free moments of rest while I fix it. 

And I will fix it. 
I like fixing things. 

I just hope some day I won't feel obligated to give away so many pieces of myself to get her done.


http://www.nextlifenokids.com/2015/09/i-am-not-okay.html


http://www.nextlifenokids.com/2015/07/5-perfectly-good-reasons-you-are-not.html


http://www.nextlifenokids.com/2013/05/molly-ringwald-ruined-my-life.html

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