Tag Archives: mom blog

You Know You’re The Mom of a Girl IF …

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You Know You're the Mom of a Girl IF...

While writing a piece on translating “Momisms” into what we really mean, I realized there are some commonalities among moms of each sex that bond us together. Of course every child is different, but if you’re the mom of a girl, I’m guessing some of these will sound all too familiar.

You Know You’re the Mom of a Girl IF…

1.  You do more pretend cooking in a miniature kitchen than you do actual cooking in the full sized one (and frankly, you’re not sure which tastes better).

2.  You secretly wish there was some mommy competition involving your child’s trendy crafts because you’re a freakin’ whiz on the Rainbow Loom, you make a mean potholder, and you’re not so bad with a spool of gimp ahem, lanyard.

3.  You find yourself searching “How to Do a Fishtail Braid” on YouTube.

4.  You wonder how young is too young to start plucking her eyebrows?

5.  You have the ability to turn a field day/camp tee into an off the shoulder, bedazzled, designer dud in the time it would take a child to throw a “fashion tantrum.”

6.  You understood what I meant when I coined the term “fashion tantrum.”

7.  You find yourself playing with pretty much the same toys you played with when you were little, only the slutted-up versions. (See Polly Pocket, Rainbow Brite, and Strawberrry Shortcake.)

8.  A dance party, song fest, or drawing competition may be impromptu … but it’s never unexpected.

9.  Somehow you always get to be the ugly, ratty Barbie with the hair plugs showing from a haircut gone awry, and the one hand that’s been chewed off by the dog.

10. Your coveted jewelry, handbags, and heels have become someone else’s playthings.

11. You know from Furby and Fijit Friends.

12. There’s a creepy-ass Lalaloopsy doll staring at you with those “Coraline” button eyes that you’re pretty sure comes to life when you sleep.

13. Dealing with a monumental breakdown over the over the tag in a shirt, the seam on the sock, or the color of a pair of undies seems totally normal (see fashion tantrum).

14. You know the one rule about stuffed animals: One Can Never Have Too Many of Them!

15. That chick’s got an at-ti-tude and you know exactly where she got it from, though you won’t admit it.

16. You probably have a sticker or something shimmery stuck to you right now.

17. Your make-believe life is way more exiting than your actual life.

18. Glitter to a girl is like the Windex in My Big Fat Greek Wedding … it cures everything… at the very least it makes it more tolerable.

19. You are willing to accept a severely sub par mani-pedi or 3 (in a row) because your child has set up a salon and you’re the only one dumb enough to show up for your appointment.

20. It looks like the Disney Princesses threw up in your car.

21.  You haven’t heard your actual name the entire day, but you’ve been beckoned relentlessly.

22. You know a female wears the pants in your family (you just didn’t think they’d be a size 3T).

23.  You fear the day she gets her period because it sometimes seem like she has PMS already.

24.  Lying is always an option as in … “I’m sorry, they stopped selling Bratz dolls.” “I love the outfit you put together yourself… stripes and zig-zag look great together.” and “Yes, you do sound like Beyonce when you sing.”

25. You can’t wait until she’s old enough to watch Grease, Xanadu, Clueless, or anything by John Hughes.

26. The term rainbow-unicorn can answer almost any question. How do you want to decorate your room? What’s your favorite color? What do you want to be when you grow up?

27. ANYTHING can be over-dramatized… a trip to Target feels like a Spanish soap opera.

28. There’s a My Little Pony in your purse.

29. You hope to one day share a “Best Friends” charm.

30. You’ve made yourself an amazing companion (attitude and all) that’s redefined the magnitude of love you ever thought you had to give.

PS – I know they’re not all girly girls… If you have a daughter (like mine) who’s got a little tomboy in her too, check out  “You Know You’re the Mom of A Boy IF…”  you’ll be shocked how many ring true, as well.

BE AWESOME, SHARE THIS WITH OTHER MOMS

BE AWESOMER, TELL MY DAUGHTER TO GIVE ME ONE OF THE CUTE BARBIES SOMETIME 

Related Post: Barbie and I Can’t Get Our Skinny Jeans Over Our Thighs

25 Signs That You Are Definitely a Mom

 

You Know You’re the Mom of a Boy IF …

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You Know You're the Mom of a Boy IF...

While writing a piece on translating “Momisms” into what we really mean, I realized there are some commonalities among moms of each sex that bond us together. Of course every child is different, but if you’re the mom of a boy, I’m guessing some of these will sound (and smell) all too familiar.

You know you’re the mom of a boy if …

  1. You find yourself holding a living creature that you would usually run away from screaming.
  2. A girl makes eyes at your son and you have this weird urge to pull her aside and call her a “slut” (whether she’s 6 or 16).
  3. You have an unhealthy knowledge of the point/gem system for Temple Run, Dragonvale, Bakugan, Plants vs. Zombies, Cube Runner …
  4. You can’t muster the brain power to recall what you ate for breakfast, yet you can inherently transform a Transformer (without the 30 pages of directions it came with).
  5. You bought a car based solely on how much equipment you could fit in the trunk.
  6. Your child asks you to marry him and you’re totally considering it.
  7. You know what a Ripstik is and you’re not afraid to use it.
  8. You spend much of your days in a fog of fart odor and some of it is proudly yours. (What? How else can you impress your male offspring?)
  9. A little penis seems to be constantly whizzing by (well, let’s hope that’s your sons).
  10. You’ve actually placed yourself under a tree with the feeling that, if that kiddo loses footing you’ll at least be there to break his fall.
  11. You know the pain of stepping on a Lego … and may in fact, have one imbedded somewhere in your body right now.
  12. There’s a finger in your eye, your ear, or up your nose and it’s not yours.
  13. You understand what I mean when I say “bleacher butt,” as in, “My sits bones are literally numb, I have bleacher butt.”
  14. There’s a rogue Bey Blade in your purse.
  15. You’ve found yourself saying things like, “No, you can’t ride the dog.” and “Yes, you do have to keep your pants on in public.”
  16. You’ve had in depth conversations about who would win in multiple variations of match-ups involving Spider-Man, Iron Man, Captain America, X-Men, Daddy …
  17. You can’t wait until he’s old enough to watch Airplane, The Naked Gun, Caddy Shack, Vacation, Fletch, The Three Amigos…
  18. Though you claim to be an absolute pacifist, you’ve had a talk that involved you urging, “Sometimes you gotta push back.”
  19. You’ve considered leashing your son at a theme park and he’s 12.
  20. You’re on a first name basis with the orderlies at the ER who provide slings, splints, casts, and those velcro boots.
  21. You may have shamefully thought, “It wouldn’t be so bad if he married an orphan.”
  22. There’s a finger in your eye, your ear, or up your nose and it’s not yours.
  23. At some point you notice the change in smell from “OMG sooo sweet” to “Get that tween some AXE.”
  24. You can use your keyboard, phone, iPad, but there’s a good chance your fingers will get stuck to it.
  25. There’s a love you feel for your son that’s too great and sometimes too scary to fully explain or even comprehend.

HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY to the women who got a gulp when their babies were born — thinking One day they might leave you for another woman!!!

XO – Jenny From the Blog (Look for the piece: “You Know You’re the Mom of A Girl If…”)

BE AWESOME, SHARE THIS WITH OTHER MOMS

BE AWESOMER, COME GET THOSE RED CLAY STAINS OUT OF MY SON’S BASEBALL PANTS

RELATED POSTS:

25 Signs You are Definitely a Mom

20 Momisms Translated

Moms of Boys Are Jealous Shrews

 

Push LIKE if You Have Skin – Plus 10 More Desperate FB Page Ideas

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So sad he had to be shamed in public that way, but they moved the sofa and this is what they found. He's one sick puppy!

So sad she had to be shamed in public that way, but they moved the sofa and this is what they found. She’s one sick puppy! (From MyDumbDogs.wordpress.com)

Yesterday, I saw an ad in the sidebar of facebook for a page called “I Love My Children.” It simply read: “Push LIKE if you love your children.” What’s crazier is that 5 of my friends had already “LIKED” said page (you know how it shows you that too?).

Wow, ladies you LOVE your children? No way! I can’t even wrap my head around it because you totally seemed like the types to down right hate your children, but then you went and pushed that button and now I’m all, “Maybe I misjudged you.” “Maybe you’re the best moms, like ever!” “Maybe you could watch mine sometime.” Then of course it dawned on me how very many of you so called friends of mine clearly DO NOT love your children which you made abundantly clear by NOT pushing “like”!

PS – To my mom and dad (who are on FB): I knew it! Don’t expect calls on your birthdays either … a-holes.

Is it just me or has the social networking world has gone bat shit crazy! Continue reading →

Only in Florida People – Only in Florida

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We Floridians are somewhat the butt of a running joke that the random, dangerous, and ass backwards things seem to happen here. Unfortunately, we tend to live up to this stereotype by constantly proving it true. People wonder why I’m such a neurotic mother and I’m beginning to wonder if my locale doesn’t have a smidgen to do with it.

For instance, it’s tough to deny that we live among some crazy prehistoric animals. From those massive dragon flies to the gators I’ve spotted around my lake doing their best George Hamilton impressions (did that reference age me?), to the panthers, to the poisonous frogs (Florida imported to kill our insect problem, which ended up killing peoples pets -great idea, Florida).  I’ve seen mosquitos the size of a house cat and ominous turkey buzzards that make me shake in fear. Continue reading →

Schtupping Brad Pitt is Interfering With My Productivity

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The old “I’m having too much sex with Brad Pitt to get anything done” excuse.  Haven’t we all heard that one — one too many times?

PW – Parental Warning:  If you are my parents, please refrain from reading!

The other day I was telling my Mother in Law about my latest dreams in which I’m working out.  Sure, it could be the fact that I’m obsessed with The Biggest Loser, or that my new favorite pastime is finding new cellulite dimples, but whatever the reason working out is on the brain and these dreams are totally annoying. I’m waking up exhausted and I have nothing to show for it (other than sweaty sheets).  Listen, I dread workouts  in my waking world, so why would I want to waste those enjoyable “sex with Brad Pitt hours” at the “sleep” gym? Continue reading →

When Your Tween Son Pays Attention To You Act Natural

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When Your Tween Son Pays Attention to You - Act Natural

My sweet amazing baby boy is now a tween. You know, that stage where moms are not quite as smart or cool … or necessary as they once were? Sure, they want you to get them a glass of water when they’re in bed. Sometimes they’ll throw you a bone and ask you to lay with them when they’re freaked out by some scary character they saw in a trailer on YouTube. Yep, they have to settle for horror movie trailers because that same annoying overprotective mother (you) said they weren’t old enough to watch Final Destination or SAW. (Smart choice)

Actually, tween really is the perfect term, as they’re truly somewhere between “Mommy will you come in my room?” and “Mom my room is off limits to you.” They’re between, “Mom I think Katie likes me because she always says ‘Hi,’ so what do I do now?” and Mom overhearing him tell some friends he wants to date Chastity because she puts out. (This is why you should never name your child Chastity … because irony is a bitch.)

I remember when the shift into tweenishness occurred. Continue reading →

20 Momisms Translated – What We REALLY Mean

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momism 287

Recently I wrote a post for my column at TheStir about common Momisms and how they can get you into big trouble. You know Momisms, those phrases we turn to get a short reprieve, to conceal criticism, to maintain our sanity, or simply because we have no clue what our child just said and we’re trying to go with it? Since that column seemed to resonate, I thought I’d add a handy decoder to translate what we say –> what we MEAN.

Do not let this fall into the hands of your children or it’ll ruin it for the rest of us!

Maybe –> Probably not

We’ll see –> NEVER

Let’s play the quiet game. –> Stop talking, my ears are bleeding.

I love the outfit you put together. –> Please spill something on it before we leave the house.

Where did you hear that? –> Your information is completely false.

One day you’ll thank me. –> Hopefully, you’ll forget this ever happened. Continue reading →

All Moms Are Neurotic Sometimes – Right?

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pull out hair stress frustrated

Here’s the thing, I’m not saying you’re neurotic, but we’ve all had those moments that totally defy all logic and reasoning. It’s just that some of us have more than others. I have these moments almost daily, hourly. I know… you’re jealous.

You too can have them, just develop a hearty case of OCD or throw all rational reasoning out the window and start to believe your thoughts can control the world (they’re the same thing).  


My please-don’t-have-me-committed moment du jour was focused on a prescription of antibiotics for my daughter’s double ear infection.  Please note, the child’s never had an ear infection and for her first, she’s decided to have two. Let me tell you, that kid NEVER does anything half-assed, which is something I usually marvel at.

Anyhoo, after 4 days of diligently doling out her meds, twice a day (No easy task, as any mom will tell you), I accidentally knocked the bottle over onto the counter.

I felt the way an alcoholic would watching interventionists pour the last bit of liquor down the drain, or worse, the way EVERY breastfeeding mom feels when a bottle of pumped milk AKA “liquid gold” is spilled – sob worthy.

I watched as the pink milky blob spread across the counter and did what any other self respecting mom would do. I grabbed a medicine syringe and started siphoning the remains. But, I couldn’t put it back into the bottle, why? I mean, there were 6 days left and at least 4 were staring at me in a blob on the counter. Instead I filled a separate glass with everything I could suck up, and stared at it.

Now, a new mom would probably Continue reading →

Wanna Look Like a Supermodel on Your Vacation? Hit a Water Park

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Living is South Florida has taught me this: If you want to feel really crappy about yourself and guilt yourself into a starvation diet, you should simply go to South Beach, but if you wanna feel like Giselle, go to a water park.

Look, the beaches here are filled with hot, svelte, uber-tan, scantily clad, could-be models who do things you would normally see in cheesy 80s spring break movies or the making of the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition, like whip their hair out of the water in a single choreographed move in slow motion.

For this reason, I always have a cover-up no more than an arm’s distance away as I sit under an umbrella and wonder, “When did I stop being that young, hot, frolicy, slow-motion girl? Wait, was I ever her? Shit, I don’t know if I was ever her, and now I’ll never be her again or for the first time…”

This is why I rarely go to the beach. Buuuuuut, I’ve also learned that to combat this feeling, one does not need to spend Thanksgiving or Christmas break in an Alaska-esque climate where she can bundle up and hide under a trendy puffer jacket.

Nope, one simply needs to take herself and her beach attire to a water park. Though water parks and beaches seem similar on the surface, they’re at their core polar opposites, like Walmart and Target.

Frankly, any park will do because here is a water park truth: No matter how much cellulite, varicose veins, stretch marks, regrettable tattoos or unsightly moles you have, there is someone within a 10-foot radius of you who has more… and she is wearing a bikini.

…a string bikini.

…a string bikini that Continue reading →

We Swore We Would be Fun Parents | What Happened?

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I am EXACTLY the parent I swore I would never be.  Are you?

I’ve journaled all my life and I very distinctly remember writing things that sounded somewhat like this: When you’re a mom always be fun. NEVER make your kids eat vegetables. Let them have soda whenever they want, stay up until Johnny Carson is over, and stay home from school to play Atari, Mr. Mouth, and Parcheesi, at least once a week.

As I hit high school… Continue reading →

How Well Do You Know Your Vagina

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Why do we need to “know our vaginas,” anyway? I’m happy keeping mine at arms length. Yet, I’m told we should be more acquainted. I have to be honest, I think we’re good, me any my hoo-hoo, that is. I’d definitely miss her if she wasn’t around, but we’re not conversing during long walks on the beach, though we do like to take them (so we have that in common — which is nice).

Could you pick your va-jay-jay out of a va-gyne-up?

Recently, in the pediatrician’s office, I was reading a pamphlet on puberty. Please, it’s better reading than an outdated TIME, or a Highlights where all the hidden pictures are already circled (and they always are). Anyhoo, it suggested that ‘tweens (I’m assuming that’s who it was for) should and I quote, “GET TO KNOW YOUR VAGINA.”

If there are any preteens reading this just know, you shouldn’t be — now, go google One Direction and stop reading my columns.

Now that they’re gone…

I began to think about how WE were schooled on puberty. Oh, those awful videos that hadn’t been updated since the 60’s and 70’s, so the people still had combs in their back pockets, bell-bottoms, and afros. I don’t remember the exact details, but I know most were grainy, some slightly resembled School House Rock, and I’m pretty sure one of them convinced me that you could get pregnant from dry humping — if the guy came — which I’m pretty sure no cool guy ever did.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m certainly no “dry hump” virgin. Nope, I know more than a thing or two about the friction caused by two pairs of button fly jeans rubbing uncomfortably against each other, on a waterbed, the bucket seats of a Nissan 300ZX, or the ultra-suede of a basement sofa. Look, I’m a Gen X-er, that’s what we had. Also, I was a good girl (who liked to fool around), which means I was forced to be a “dry hump” slut.

For years, I was convinced that sperm, being so powerful and microscopic, could travel through a guys boxers and Z Cavaricci’s and past my Guess jeans and little Bloomies straight into my cervix. This may be a sign that I didn’t know much about sex… but at least I was on trend.

See, we weren’t told to get to know our vaginas. In fact, I’m a bit concerned that at nearly 40 I don’t know my vagina at all. Frankly, I couldn’t pick her out of a line-up. Seriously, could you? I mean, I could probably narrow it down, like they taught you to do in SAT prep, but any vagina with the same grooming, coloring, and general size — could be mine. How sad is that? I don’t even know if my vagina has any defining marks, characteristics, or other traits that make it uniquely my own.

To make matters worse, the pamphlet may have mentioned that each vagina has a distinct personality. WTF is that all about? She has a personality? Maybe we should be conversing more, I haven’t the foggiest idea what she’s all about. Is she saucy, shy, extroverted? I don’t freakin’ know. I mean, I know she’s obstinate, yet easily swayed. That counts, no? She’s highbrow, well groomed, extremely particular, and yet, I like to think she’s adventurous.

Oh, the contradictions.

My vagina is a flippin’ onion, so many layers. How could anyone claim to truly know her? They, you, I… we couldn’t, so stop trying.

Do you hear me people? I’m saying back off — give my vagina some space. (If I had a nickel for every time I used that phrase…)

And you pamphlet writers, who are either men making a ridiculously misguided attempt at feminism or clueless guidance counselors disconnected from modern ‘tween society, could you work on being a bit more creative? Telling teens to get to know their vaginas and expecting them to take it seriously, REALLY? That’s fodder for parodies. In fact, all I could think of, while perusing your literature, was the SNL skit “You and Your Uvula,” which I’m sure dates me even more than the School House Rock reference. If you must tell girls to get to know themselves, at a bare minimum, slap a picture of Justin Bieber on the cover.

http://img.metro.co.uk/i/pix/2012/07/13/article-1342181591190-140C03F8000005DC-366763_466x310.jpg

YOU, should get to know your vagina!

Most importantly, after pondering this piece and spending some QT with my vag — you know, dinner and a movie, non fat no foam lattes at Starbucks, a raucous round of kegals, panty shopping… I’ve found vaginas, like their owners, are complex creatures, who deserve the right to be themselves, to roam free, to explore. That’s right, we not only deserve better pamphlets, but free range va-jay-jay’s as well.

Ones, who don’t need to be pigeonholed into one personality trait, but can be all things at once (just like us): Happy, sad, elated, shy, giddy, self conscious, confident, and insane.

Have you never seen a woman simultaneously laugh and cry during an orgasm?

I rest my case.

PS – Take a good hard look at your va-jay today, it would be really embarrassing if she ever got arrested!

Magic Mike Makes me Realize I’m Hard Up and My Hubby is Shameless

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Umm, just tell me you saw it too. Oh, and that you had similar eye-opening epiphanies…

On my way to see the Magic Mike with my besties, all I could think was,  Are we the only ones rushing out to see this peep show… and how hard up does this make us?

Hard up enough to go on opening night and see it with a theater full of gawking teenagers.  Wait, did I say teenagers?  Because I meant 30-50 year olds.  Continue reading →