Category Archives: Parenthood

A First

I have this friend who sends me a Happy Mothers Day text message every year even though he knows that I don’t have any kids. I was never sure if he just didn’t pay attention to who he was sending out his mass texts to, or if he just did it…well…because he is a moron. I wouldn’t have been surprised if he had sent it to MB too, actually. Anyway, this morning, I rolled over and before my eyes were even open, I heard my phone vibrate and then I heard MB whisper, “Happy Mother’s Day, baby. You’re the prettiest mommy ever.”  And then I melted into a heap of goo on my side of the bed. Because seriously, you guys, like, within days, I’m gonna be someone’s mommy. And not in that figurative way that happens when your friends call you mom at parties because you hold their hair when they puke. No. Like an actual mommy.

I’m planning to spend today just like I spent yesterday: floating in my own mommy’s pool and wishing I could have some sort of delicious alcoholic concoction to take the edge off all of this waiting and hoping that, by the end of my swim, I am in labor. (Just as an aside, though, can I just tell you how wonderful the water feels when you feel as though you are the size of a house? If you haven’t yet taken advantage of a swimming pool or other body of water, you should get on that. I felt like myself. Almost.) But I wanted to come by here and wish all of you mommies and soon-to-be mommies a Happy Mother’s Day. I hope that you all get to spend it doing something that makes you happy.

An Open Letter to My Daughter (Just Minutes Before Her Birth)

Dear Baby L,

I want to start by being honest with you hear and telling you that you will not be born in mere minutes. You are perfectly content to continue to reside in my uterus and according to the doctor that I saw this morning, will remain there for several more days. The title of this post is mainly just to send a signal to the universe (and you, I suppose, letting you know that IT IS TIME, and lets get this show on the ROAD.) But before you do grace us with your presence, I wanted for us to have a little talk, you know, our first mother/daughter.

If you have ever read this blog, then you are well aware that I was not really totally excited about becoming a parent. I didn’t really trust myself to be someone’s mom. And, to be honest, I am still not so sure I know what the hell I am getting myself into. I was pretty open about how crazy and horrible and beautiful making you was and you might be offended about the fact that I sometimes cussed at you here or called you a parasite. But seriously? Let’s face it, girlie, you kind of WERE a parasite. (Just sayin’.) You’ll understand all that when you have kids. But I want you to know, nonetheless, that even though I may not have been ready for all of this crazy that has happened or to become your mom, I am pretty sure I am ready now. And I am going to do the best damn job I can. But if I do happen to put your diaper on backwards or forget to put those weirdo mitten things on your hands and you scratch yourself in the face, it is NOT because I don’t love you. It is because I am a completely incompetent parent and am totally learning. I swear, it will get better. (Until I have to talk to you about boys and/or puberty. Then I just might totally fuck you up. And yes, your mother just said “fuck” because you aren’t born yet and cannot repeat everything I say like a parrot.)

Secondly, we should talk about your father. You may notice that he is a complete softie for you. And you may also have noticed that if you bat your eyelashes enough, you can pretty much attain anything your little heart desires. (This works for me too, by the way, and I rather like it. Don’t screw it up.) You should know that he already loves you more than anything in the entire universe. And your father has the biggest, purest, most amazing heart anyone could possess and you should treat him with respect. Because he is moral and loving and generous and will give of himself in ways that most people cannot. He is a gift to the universe and his kindness is rare. And he helped make you. And I have NO doubt that he will someday embarrass the bejesus out of you, and you will want to run and hide from him, but that’s normal. Just try and remember how special he is and be kind to him (and to others) because if not, you will break his heart.

I would like to explain the rest of the family to you here, but I just don’t have that kind of time. You will encounter some really interesting characters and some of them you will totally adore and some of them will make you want to shove sharp things into your eardrums. And that’s okay. I will warn you about those ones on a private and individual level.

Just know that, in these final days of your hostile takeover of my body gestation, your entire family is looking so forward to meeting you. Your father and I have everything set up for you, including 47 potential places for you to sleep, as we were not sure where you would be most content once removed from my body. We love you infinitely and we will do our best to avoid turning you into a psychopath or a douche canoe.

Love and kisses,

Mom

 

 

I haven’t even HAD my baby girl yet and this already stresses me out!

Forty Ounce's avatarmilk & honey ~ geeks & gangstas

If you haven’t figured it out already, your role as a parent includes keeping your daughter off the pole, which requires setting standards of how she should expect to be treated by others, as well as explaining her anatomy to her.  As much of a free spirit as I am about sexuality and femininity, I found the latter to be one of the more difficult lessons for me to relay to my 4-year-old.  It all started when she was 3, and stopped wearing diapers. I was so proud of myself.  Potty-training– DONE. The next thing I know, we’re watching cartoons and I see her chubby little toddler fingers exploring her nether regions. I mean, you can’t blame her– she’d never had access to that part of her body back in diaper-land.  Undies offer a freedom that I had to teach her to respect.

“What are you doing, pumpkin?” “I’m touching my privacy,” she says matter-of-factly in her…

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Resolutions and Battling Impropriety

Flavor of Love

Flavor of Love (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I don’t usually make New Year’s resolutions because I find that…well…they are a joke. I fool myself into thinking that because the calendar changes, so will I. Well, that’s just unrealistic. But now that I am growing up (at 32) and becoming a mom (pretty reluctantly, at first, I might add), I’ve decided to make up for all those missed resolutions and start changing for the better. Because this time, it isn’t for me, but for my new Baby L.  So, totally worth it.

1. Stop talking like a sailor. I say “fuck” a lot. I have to stop that because I most definitely do NOT want a toddler running around, dropping the “f-bomb” in grocery stores and churches and stuff. I am a civilized person, for fuck’s sake! I should talk like one!

2. Stop referring to my old roommate as “c*ck juggling thunder c*nt” (at least outloud). That is not her name. And even though I rarely speak of her, I have to remember that this phrase is most definitely worse than the f-bomb. Toddlers should not say either of these c-words. Ever. (And really, neither should I…they kind of gross me out, but so does my old roommate.)

3. I will no longer partake in “liquid dinner”. I will have to recognize that moms should eat actually food. Not wine. Wine is not a food and does not constitute as dinner. (Dammit.)

4. I will try and curb my trash TV addiction. This shouldn’t be as hard as one might think. I mean, let’s face it, internet, without “Rock of Love” and “Flavor of Love“, reality TV just isn’t the same anyway…(I miss you Flav and Bret…I do…)

5. I will clean the bathroom more. I hate scrubbing the bathtub. I HATE IT. It hurts my back and makes me cranky. But, because I love my daughter and don’t want her to develop some sort of fungus, I will do it. Weekly, even. (The things we do for love…)

There are a few more things that I need to work on, like continuing to be a non-smoker and shielding my kid from people who will make up stupid nicknames for her or teach her phrases like, “Talk to the hand…” (I swear to JEEBUS, that was never funny, not even when little kids did it! And it was like 20 years ago, people! Just let it GO…) But I think these listed were the big ones for the time being. And it is good to start small, I think. Right?

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