Maneuvering Life and Motherhood with Twins Plus One
Late year holidays are always my favorite time of year, Thanksgiving, Christmas; I am giddy with child-like excitement for family, fellowship and togetherness. Adult life, however, exposes the harsh reality of the holiday season, family dynamics and beautiful let downs. Togetherness with family is not always about togetherness, connection, love; the events lack joy, communion and are more of a collective obligatory duty. Continue reading “Obligatory Family”
Funny how life can throw curve balls, grinders, heaters and the occasional wild pitch that make us double over in horrific shock. What I find amazing is how MLB players never consider the whole ball game in one pitch or one season, but a series of seasons. If you are a die hard Cubs fan you know this reality, still chasing the pennant, still cheering from the stands, joyous spirits flying high in the bleachers whether at Spring training or regular season at Wrigley. Somehow our fanaticism and forgiveness for our baseball teams never seem to carry over to our personal lives or those with whom we interact. Suddenly the story of their life is the whole ball game as opposed to a series of seasons. Continue reading “The Whole Ball Game?”
Many moons ago I wrote this angry post about Mother’s Day and how horribly it sucked. I was a terrible communicator back then, my writing was uber raw, so my well intentions to support mothers in an everyday fashion went awry. I have since modified that post and felt it needed a revival from the years ago about why Mothers Day sucks. Continue reading “When Mothers Day Sucks”
One morning I sat in my Jeep and sobbed, I sobbed until nothing was left as I gasped for air and felt like my chest was being wrung by a medieval rack. Emotions completely dislocated from my body and exhausted from the torment. That is the day I realized how much I hated apologies. I found myself retching in oppression because I could no longer be unapologetic. I struggled to just be myself.
The Chad watched me as I sobbed, helpless to carry my burden. The burden of sheer and total brokenness. The girl with an untamed spirit. The blond haired girl with wild ideas of making the world a better place, snake bitten wit and selflessness only assigned to saints. All broken. Continue reading “Unapologetic me”
Gripping at the final credits as the film winds through the reels, waiting patiently in the dark for the next teaser. Some trailer or scene, spoilers for a sequel. All that is the left is the on location references and music acknowledgments, bore fest. My life was turning into that same scene of musical contributions and location listings, only the equivalency was a historical ledger, best known as a resume, of career moves and an epic failure. Continue reading “Not Yet Rated”
My small readership of only the half dozen of you lovely humans know that I tout and rant and rave about a healthy diet and clean food. Organic is tantamount for consumption in my house, if I cannot buy ALL organic I seriously have a small amount of guilt that runs through my obsessive compulsive mind that wishes to negate the effects of unclean food on my children. Yes, I am a bit extreme. My husband will be so happy that I am making such strides publicly about my OCD. Oh I digress early.
So the other day I took the opportunity to have lunch with my son. I do not do this often due to my work schedule and lately his behavior has become worrisome to me. I attributed some of this to poor eating habits (high sugar or carb foods and lower protein intake), and I know I can control what he puts in his body, or at least I can influence him in an educated and informed fashion where he will listen so I used the lunch date as my opportunity to have the food talk. While I know some of his behavior is in part to only having two weeks remaining in school, I have seen a trend prior to this onset of summer fever.
Knowing full well that the school lunch menu has been upgraded with the recent flyer’s we have seen and the boasting of a “salad bar” I took the opportunity to dine with my son and his fellow classmates. When in Rome right?
Shuffling into the school cafeteria it was like a cattle call with ropes and subdivisions for eating, ordering, and keeping the herd of children in line for the assembly of a meal. My son called his name so that his account could be debited and I then ordered the full lunch; soup, salad bar, juice and the meal for the day. I had an option between a mystery meat BBQ sandwich of sorts, “Burger Buddies” which were prepackaged and resembled White Castle sliders, and chicken strips. I opted for the item that looked semi-discernible and partially edible, chicken strips. Next I was offered “cheesy mash potatoes” by the lunch staff.
I stopped in my tracks in awe of the slop of shit being offered as food and a food product not only to my child but other children. The resemblance of orange, yellowish tinged drywall mud is what I thought these tasty bites looked to be, laying lukewarm in a stainless steel commercial serving pan. Politely I declined the “carbs” for my meal and moved along in the line. Choosing the 1% milk that I was pleasantly surprised to see offered. Progressing further into the line of food offerings I come across the “soup” offering which is not published near the warming unit in order to determine what exactly is being served for the day and upon inspection, I again declined to add to my menu of items to eat. Finally I end at the salad bar. I. am. breathless.
The only items of food I could clearly identify as edible, clean, and in pristine condition and something I would serve to my children and eat in mass quantities myself. Chopped romaine, iceberg lettuce, baby spinach, broccoli florets, slices of celery, slices of oranges, sliced heirloom tomatoes, all gleaming and shiny, brightly colored, but not wilty, and all screaming EAT ME. I then did what any right minded human would do is load up on this in mass quantities, untainted by salad dressing. I could not damage these beauties in their natural state and was as I said, breathless, and beside myself that this is the only food items that could be identified without question.
Sadly, there was plenty to go around and my fear was that this food was going to be thrown out, while the mystery meat food items would be saved to serve at a later date, even more worrisome. What was even more pathetic was the lack of the education staff eating these same foods being served to the children. I watched closely as they all retreated to the “lounge” to circle amongst their kin or retreat to eat something other than what was being served to the very children they educate each and every week day. Adding injury to insult were those who were the overseers in the cafeteria sipping on their Starbucks branded lattes and what not.
I continued to eat and enjoyed what I thought to be a safe choice for a school lunch option and I watched my son dig into his “burger buddies” and then we had a conversation about how it tastes good but the food was not really good for him. A prepackaged burger “meal” which after some research I found were HUGE in the 80s as a Burger King spin-off product in public schools, still being offered today.
DEPLORABLE.
My son’s lunch mate and loosed lipped little girl who had rather quite a bit to say for saying nothing at all tapped my shoulder and said, “LOOK! See all that grease…” As she squeezed her mystery meat BBQ sandwich that oozed levels of grease and oil that could lube any anal tract before a good colonoscopy. I wanted to vomit, giggle like this little girl at the sight of the filth permeating from the mystery meat, and scream and throw a tantrum and ask everyone what the fuck they were thinking that the food these children were eating was acceptable. Moreover I could not fathom that any EDUCATOR and those fit to oversee the education and mental growth and capacity of my children did not have enough where with all and knowledge to know that the “food” these children were consuming was basically a candy coated version of fast food.
But we all know that soda machines and lack of physical education is the reason for obesity right?
Let me further add this to the mix. Lunch begins at 11:50 for my second grader, of which they do not always arrive right at 11:50 to eat, thus he is shorted time to eat. At about 8 minutes after 12 the lights went dark in the cafeteria and the aids put up two fingers as if to signal the kids. I leaned over to my son and asked what this was about and he said, “We have to be quiet and finish our lunch and go outside to recess so we have to hurry.”
WHAT!?
Since when did the elementary school lunch system become similar to the military where these kids were commanded to shovel their food before running drills. I mean seriously, I wasn’t even done eating and by the looks of my plate I really did not have much on my plate, but yet had to shovel. Not to mention I didn’t even drink much of my milk, so I chugged that and moved along with the second grade cattle. But not before catching a glimpse at the other children who were forced to hurry themselves with their beverage and rather than being afforded the opportunity to drink it they had to pour their remaining milk box into a giant bucket. Again I said WHAT THE FUCK. Gallons upon gallons of milk in this bucket, only to be wasted by being washed down a sewer trap or drain. The silver lining here…..they recycle the milk cartons.
Are you angry yet? Shaking your head? Needless to say, I am typing this post to share my disdain. To share in the fact that we need to make a difference with our schools and our educators and those who make decisions on behalf of our children’s futures because this does not just include the classroom but the entire educational experience. I for one will be making sure to pack his lunches to not only save extra money each month but to also control what my child eats and that I know he is getting a nutritional lunch based on common sense standards and not some bogus food pyramid where supporting fast food is accepted and widely hidden to the parents the true details of what is really in our kids school lunch program. How about some transparency Mesa Schools? How about some real change in spite of cut backs, let’s cut the butterfly releases, growing meal worms, and bullshit education and institute health education at it’s finest starting with basic foods and not over-processed, grease injected byproducts passed off as a protein source.
What are your kids eating for school lunch?
Sweating profusely and panting I watched the closed captioning for the evening news on Fox while riding the bike at the gym. Wholeheartedly giggling at the headline, “Stay at home mom wars.” You have to be kidding me? Now the media and political genre has picked up on the stay at home plight to discredit these women. Here I thought this was only reserved for those bitches who own blogs, yet work outside of the home and have yet been afforded the opportunity to be an in home caregiver for their own spawn.
I watched as the news was delivered, the debates about a certain journalist vomiting of her mouth about how a political game players wife should not be any authority of business decisions and current economic policy because she has never worked a day in her life. Further I giggled that these deplorably, over-educated, imbeciles rattled and spouted off about scenarios they themselves have yet to encounter in their lifetime. Highly entertaining news television for my evening workout as I peddled even more fervently to their idiocy. Women who have not struggled financially, personally in the job and role of motherhood, and who never stayed home a day in their life with their children without “hired help.”
You see I laugh because I have worked in both jobs as a mom, stay at home and work outside the home mom.
My eldest son was the ripe age of seven weeks when I enrolled him into a child care facility while I returned to work. My first week was heart wrenching as I cried each morning as I left him in the care of another woman. Only two and a half years later was I able to have the opportunity to stay at home with him, and soon after,conceive and birth my twins, care for them, see them reach the age of two before again returning to the workforce. My return was not one that was taken lightly and I still struggle.
Viewing myself more now as a provider and not a care giver I am not always feeling the job of mom. The struggling feeling that you are more of the hired help, yielding income to support your family; weekends, week night evenings, and just about any spare time is filled with the maintenance of keeping up a home as well as trying to ensure some form of maternal parenting is provided to our children as a strong foundation into their upbringing. It’s lifestyles like this that have encouraged many stay at home parents to pursue an education from one of the many online accredited colleges. no way am I discrediting my husband for his strong paternal role with our children which is monumental where most households experience the opposite, dad at work and mom at home with the kids. He is a phenomenal father, patient, kind, and a strong force for our sons and our daughter. Something I did not have in my home, and am ever pleased that they have such a loving man in their life.
Being a mom is not easy because we are so universal in our children’s foundation. We are initially the delivery vehicle for birth, to be brought into this world, a food source with the milk of our breasts, we provide comfort, security, love to our crying babes with our soothing delicate voices, our touch, arms to bear, hug, and embrace them. We also make sure to promote our children’s independence, despite our innate sense to always protect our children from harm, we push for them to learn on their own in spite of the struggles we know they will face. A mother should be loving and assertive as to stand her ground on what is right so as to encourage just actions and a moral compass for the future of these young individuals.
Motherhood aside, a “mom” is also a wife, lover, friend, co-worker, employee, woman, girl, child, daughter, sister. So we must learn to balance the motherhood role in life in addition to those roles we have taken on or assumed. I struggle on being a mom, wife, friend, lover, and woman. Not knowing when I can “treat” myself to those moments that were predefined in my life prior to the conception of my children. When can I revisit being a woman. A wife. A lover. If you scoff at this notion, clearly you are unaware of the actions of lumping a husband into the children pool, often emasculating him and issuing forms of discipline and condescension that we inflict because we are so often in “mommy mode.” We forget to be a lover, and embrace our femininity. By doing so does not make us selfish but well rounded, healthy, and aware of who we are and not losing our sense of self.
No matter if the job of mom is staying at home or working outside of the home, we are a mother nonetheless. We just, however, juggle the various roles that accompany our number one job which is being a mom. Loving those unconditionally that we bore of our own flesh and blood, safeguarding in their present and future, and yet pedagogical to foster learnings.
What do you struggle with in the job of mom? Do you sometimes feel a disconnect because you work outside the home? Do you feel a disconnect or lack of appreciation for being a stay at home mom?
Funny how life turns on her axis. While sitting at my desk today pondering my spreadsheets, making a difference in people’s lives by saving one home at a time, and pilfering through my emails I made the decision to be distracted by my personal email. A reprieve from the sometimes mundane. I received a friendly giggly email from my blog pal Tanya and couldn’t resist not reading what she had to say. Voldermort clearly struck again in the hearts of the wizards of blog land as they bewitched their readers with their words, Voldermort was back at her evil work again.
So I took sides in the battle of good versus the developmentally challenged. I cannot help myself, I am like a moth to a flame when it comes to this sort of juicy bits. You see a good mom who goes about with her wit and snark is in this cool little contest for a little well known Detroit car company. I couldn’t help but to root for these deserving moms, I always favor someone who lacks a reputation for drama, bullshit, and coercion. She mentions the wrong doings of Voldermort, which I cannot deny is not out of her character by any stretch of the imagination. No one needs to know her personally that her repertoire for being a spoiled rotten bitch crying wolf is par for the course. Oh I digress. But I comment to root her on that she was wronged and I commend her for standing up, taking the high road, and not lying down with the event.
Where am I going on this post, well and that’s the beauty of my ramblings; is being called a bully. I laugh at someone who is at the achievement level of an eighth grader and dares to call me a bully for supporting a mom who won’t tolerate the same shit I refuse to tolerate, but this less than an eighth grader educated, rambles on with his hate, for everything.  I mean to read the Twitter stream I need to smoke a bowl just to relax because this dolt of a human being spews vomit and rehash of mutton. Nothing spoken is an original thought…and I truly pity that the lack of genuine thought for any person to not be a true individual. Oh my digression again…
But I have been called a bully…not once. Not Twice. Over a dozen times, so far as this fuckhead went to call me a racist. I wanted to come unglued on that hammering from him and just did…using vile terms does not make me a racist. Being a racist makes you a racist. Me, just a biggot at best to fuck-tards, morons, idiots, cocksuckers, oxygen thieves and the like. Albeit you could call me an equal opportunity individual with the lack of patience for the mentally developed. In basic terms for those who lack logic and reason:
I am bold, honest, and do not deal with bullshit well. I call shots where shots need to be called. I speak truths that often make people very, very uncomfortable. These truths are often the thoughts of the weak of heart and mind, because God for fucking bid we all have an honest, straightforward, no question in what the hell is happening conversation.
I am fierce.
And so I intimidate people with my intelligence, my ability to be forthright, be honest, in not sugar coating anything nor blowing smoke up your ass. If that makes me a bully then they need to add to their definition my goddamn name and the fact that I am pretty stinking awesome for not letting anyone walk on and or drive a bus over me.
Please explain how the above even correlate to “bully” or being a bully.
Because I hold myself to a high standard of communication and transparency as not to stab people in the back and act childish? That makes me a bully? Because I do not tolerate the rantings of someone of the male gender that doesn’t understand basic second grade grammar of to, too, there, their, and they’re? Because I am not afraid to use the word wetback? If that makes me a bully for being bold, rich with my words and colorful with my slang then you deserve to be weak, lack virtue, morality, standards and honesty. Never for one minute will I dote on anyone in a fashion that is passive aggressive and is not direct with my actions or words and if you don’t like me for it…oh, fucking, well. At least I do not exsanguinate on my wife for her “blog earnings & success” like a pimp…aka bully.
So this last week I was sent to Atlanta, Georgia for work.
You can see the details and ME here.
But what I can tell you is how you can avoid food poisoning which is by avoiding the famed Taco Mac restaurant. Curse you Taco Mac and your 130 beers on tap and your buffalo wings. But those cursed wings are what made me ill. Next time I am in Atlanta, I will be avoiding Taco Mac, sad….they were so good going down.
Yes the title of this blog is a direct reference to a movie surrounding zombies. The Chad and I are huge fans of horror flicks and zombie movies are some of the best (*cough…worst) movies around. I mean anyone who is anyone has seen a B rated zombie movie and laughed, or you got hooked on the A&E series, or maybe your kids talk about zombies with their video games (*cough…not my house).
But there is one thing that I will attest to with zombies, despite their total non-existence, is that I know they are attracted to noise. Lots of loud, obnoxious, even just muffled noise, zombies are attracted to noise like a moth to a flame. So I am going to ask you of a large favor in the event that one day our world were to ever become overrun with brain eating, flesh munching, scavenging zombies.
But let’s look at this noise issue. Seriously my kids are prime zombie dinner. I kid you not, from the moment my Seth-en-stein is awake his lips are a running and he is on his way to verbally vamoosing you, honestly the words leave his mouth so fast you can hardly answer the first question he vomited your way let alone the next. Up next is Little Bitty who is the house manager and has a shrilling scream that would break the most finest of crystal if the right pitch allowed, so come on zombies….we are just sitting ducks waiting for you just on these two alone. Finally we have The Boy and The Dog….mind you the dog snores worse than any human. In fact someone asked me what the rumble was….I had to confess it was my English Bulldog snoring…no rumble. I am left now with the boy who if you asked him to be quiet would argue the art of being quiet just for sake of debate.
In the event of a world zombie domination
AVOID MY HOUSE!
Yes, avoid my house because my family will be the first victims because my children cannot shut the fuck up for more than one point one milliseconds. The fighting, screaming, whining, crying, carrying on is going to be a zombie magnet and we can guarantee to be zombie dinner. Thank you and best wishes.