Monday, April 28, 2008

Why People Visit Here: Sad But True

I was checking my site meter for the first time in probably a year and I found that many (too many) people are coming here via Google after searching for "barny*rd p*rn." Ew.

I have gone back to the offending post and removed the wording. I imagine my site hits are now going to plummet. Heh. But I really don't want perves looking at my mommy blog.

That said, I have a feeling that said perves are the reason I'm still getting a little teensy check from my BlogHer Ads so in the spirit of thanks, I'd like to revisit my original animal p*rn post. Plus, I have nothing better to write about (though I could tell you how my baby has excema so bad that it's not a full blown infection or that I totally lost my toddler the other day for 4 minutes in the middle of an amusement park and thought I was going to die. Fun things like that.)

But instead, I'd rather just honor my google perves today and link you over to this. Hope it brings you some laughs!

Wednesday, April 23, 2008

Rockabye Book Review

When I first started blogging over two years ago, I had a very short list of blogs that I read - mainly, because I was new at blogging so I only knew of a handful of blogs. One of the very first blogs I stumbled upon was Rebecca Woolf's blog, (This) Girl's Gone Child. I was captivated by her writing. It drew me in. So much so, that despite having since found gazillions of mommy blogs, her blog is still one of my favorite places to visit to this very day. I rarely ever comment, but I still have her on my short list of favorite reads.

So when the Parent Bloggers Network offered me an opportunity to review her new book, Rockabye, I jumped at the chance.

Rockabye is a memoir that chronicles Rebecca's unexpected pregnancy at 23 and her struggle to come to grips with a life turned upside down. In the first chapter, she poignantly relates her fear and subsequent anger at finding out that she was indeed pregnant.

I adjust the tests to control the chaos. I drag my finger cross the urine-soaked vanity table and write my name in piss and eye-shadow dust. For two hours I hide under the sink, folded up like origami, watching the clock move its rusted hands around the face of time. Everything is moving as if underwater, slowly dancing with the current that I can recognize only as fear.

I cannot imagine how scary it would be to be pregnant unexpectedly - and yet, I actually can imagine it, now having read these passages. Rebecca is so descriptive in her narrative. It's like I am right there with her in the bathroom watching her check those pregnancy tests.

As the memoir unfolds, you read how Rebecca rises from the darkness and fear of these initial chaotic moments of finding out she was pregnant and quickly takes control of her own happiness. You read about how she falls in love with her son, Archer, and then about how she struggles - like any new parent. I can relate to her description of her stay in the hospital with Archer after he was born.

We're so comfortable right here and now, in or bubble world with vending machines and a red button that brings help. There will be no red buttons tomorrow. Or the next day.

But as it turns out, Rebecca does just fine as a new mom, though it is all new and there is much to learn. As she states, "Today Archer is one week old, and in many ways I am too."

Her book is inspiring in so many ways. For example, later in the book when Archer is labeled a future "problem child" when he doesn't behave just so for all of the developmental tests, I am struck by how Rebecca refuses to accept that there is something wrong with her son just because he won't do exactly what he's told by the developmental specialist.

Aspiring for mediocrity and doing what we are told is not what we should teach our children. Conforming is not the answer to Archer's developmental "differences." Or anyone's for that matter. If our kids are the future, for god's sake, let's teach them to question and let them lead the way. Following the leader has never been a way to make any positive change.

I was also inspired by her courage and ability to do things her way, which for her was, in her words, "backward and inside out and upside down." But really, it was the perfect way for it all to happen. For their family.

And somehow, I found myself identifying with Rebecca. Not because I have tattoos (I don't) or because I was a big party girl who got pregnant unexpectedly (I wasn't), but because I'm a mother. And so much of Rebecca's book is about the universal experience of coming into new motherhood - stumbling, getting back up, finding your way, and finding yourself - a new and improved self - in the process.

Monday, April 21, 2008

Two Signs that My 2 1/2 Year Old Is Watching Too Much TV

No, mommy, I don't want to! I'm going to make you go away from me with my Mickey Mouse Mouskatool!!


If that's not bad enough, he will randomly and without warning shout out "P-B-S Kids DOT ORG!!"

It's disturbing. But at least it's PBS, right? *sigh*

Wednesday, April 09, 2008

Deep Thought for Wednesday

Ah motherhood. I loooooove being a mom. Seriously. It's the best thing I've ever done in my life!

However, it also makes me want to regularly throw back a few shots of tequila around 4pm. I know you know what I'm talkin about.

Speaking of which, I find it ironic that the time in my life that I am most in need of an adult beverage is also the only time in my life that I cannot consume said beverage (thank you breastfeeding).

Why is nature so cruel? Why?

Saturday, April 05, 2008


My husband is always asking me, "What do you do in the shower for so long??" His showers take approximately 1.5 minutes.

I know. It's not so green of me. But still, it really amazes me that he even has to ask. That he doesn't know what I'm doing. Standing still, amongst the soap slivers and half-empty bottles of shampoo, letting the water go from hot to warm to tepid.

Hearing nothing.

No crying.

No begging.

No fighting.

No tears.

No wants.

No needs.

No mommy.

Just me. And the rain.



Thursday, April 03, 2008

And the "Crappy Mother of the Year Award" Goes To...

Don't bother entering the "Fucked-up Mother of the Year" Contest because I've totally got this one. I'm winning that contest. Hands down. I'm also going to win the "Bad Wifey" and "Sucky Homemaker" Awards as well. So don't even bother competing with me.

Because based on my performance in these categories today, there is no way I won't win.

First of all, I dislocated my 2-year-old's elbow. Yeah. I'm just going to say it straight up. I friggin dislocated his elbow.

But it was an accident.

Now, I know what you're saying. That is totally something that a child abuser says. It was just an accident Johnny. You tripped down those stairs. Right? Right?

But really, it was an accident. I swear. See, Little Guy was throwing a tantrum on the ground in our living room and we were all going to be late for work so I took his hand and tried to pull him up off the ground.

Apparently, this is when I dislocated it, though I didn't realize it at the time.

No, I thought that my son's cries and wails were his continued attempts to try to get out of going to daycare. But that's what the "Crappy Mother of the Year" would do, right? Dislocate her son's elbow and then ignore his yelps of pain thinking that he's crying wolf...

Anyway, after a short car ride in which he continued to complain that his arm hurt, I started to wonder if there was really a problem. I finally realized that something was really wrong after he screamed to high heavens when I tried to take him out of his car seat.

So we went to the doctor. And sure enough, he had Nursemaid's elbow. Might as well call it "MommyF-EdUpBigTime Elbow" because that's what I know the doctor was thinking. Even though he said it was sooooo common and not to worry and then he popped it right back into place and all was well.

Kind of well. Except that I totally dislocated his elbow. WTF?? I didn't even yank it. I swear. I mean, I would tell you if I had yanked it. And I have yanked his arm before on a couple occassions. This time I merely tried to pick him up from the ground and dislocated it.

Lesson learned? Never pick a child up by the hand. Always pick up by the armpits. But I'm sure you all know that because you're not the "Sucky Mom of the Year" now are you. That's me.

Moving on to the "Crappy Wifey of the Year Award"....

I deserve this one for totally yelling at my husband 4 weeks ago when he yanked Little Guy's arm to get him to come out from behind the couch. It was no big deal but I was practically threatening to call CPS. Not that I would and not that it was warranted, but I guess I'm just bitchy like that. However, he didn't say one negative comment to me after dislocating my own son's elbow. He was really supportive and said he knew it was an accident. Go figure.

And finally, I crown myself "Sucky Homemaker of the Year" for leaving the house today and forgetting to lock the front door. No. Scratch that. I forgot to close AND lock the front door. Yep. We returned home at 8:30pm this evening to find our home completely open. The whole place could have been wiped out and it would have been all my fault.

WTF is wrong with me?

Could this be Target karma?
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