A little over a year ago Usbandhay and I went on a week long, kid-free trip to Maui. For 7 days we did nothing but eat fatty foods, drink yummy tropical drinks with slices of pineapple as garnish and drink some more. I can justify all of the pork consumed by balancing it with all of the pineapple that was used as a garnish. In my way of thinking one pineapple molecule bonds to a fat molecule and neutralizes it into nothingness. I'm sure you'll see this on Doctor Oz soon although you'll know where this knowledge originated.
Anywho, Usbandhay and I decided one morning to take a drive. We had a convertible, sunscreen and an entire day to kill. You can't get lost on an island that small, if you hit water you go the other way! So we decided to head to the North Shore. As you are driving north you see a sign: "State Highway Ends 500 feet" then "State Highway Ends 100 feet" and then "State Highway REALLY ends in 50 feet, you jackasses" but we keep driving cause where we're going, we don't need roads! Paved ones at least. So it turns out the signs weren't just a clever use of State funds. The State road ended and we went from smooth paved 4 lane roads to a dirt 1/2 lane road that most Ugandan's would sneer at. What made this even better(read: more terrifying) was the sheer cliff that sent you on a downward spiral to the Pacific ocean after a 50 foot fall on jagged rocks and bacteria infested coral beds. Turns out you DO need roads.
Since we were still in carefree vacation mode, we traveled on! Adventure? Heck Yeah! Danger? For shizzle! "The Planet's Best Banana Bread" hand painted on the side of a tree with an arrow pointed to the only way possible? Whhaaat? Yes! That was it. That sign was a metaphor for our finish line. We were now on a path the find the World's, nay The UNIVERSE'S best banana bread and all that we had to lose was our lives as we potentially careen over the side of a cliff to our doom and have to pay the deductible on the rental car insurance!
Now remember me telling you about my theory on molecular cohesion of fat to fruit? There may be a side effect... As the the road turned and wound so did my stomach. As we climbed yet another hill I gripped the door handle like a life line and when my stomach made noises loud enough to echo though the rocky caverns we were driving next to. I laughed and turned up the music so my sweet driver would not hear the screams of revolt happening in my midriff section. Because, you see, we just had gotten engaged 2 weeks prior to this fantastic romantic vacation and he still was not allowed to know that I, a girl, had bodily functions other that wild orchid scented B.O. and peppermint morning breath. In fact, for the whole first year my kegel muscles were stronger than a bear trap from clenching while vacating my bladder so he wouldn't hear me pee!
Finally! We came across the hut(literally) in question! Banana bread (and hopefully bathroom!) we have found you! I slide gracefully out of the car and pray to the volcano gods that I don't embarrass myself. I browse the breads and dried fruits and make my purchases including a bottle of water that I know I'll need to replenish lost fluids later and nonchalantly ask if their quaint little hut had a bathroom. Not a chance. Not a honey bucket, not a hole in the ground covered with banana leaves...nothing. F@*k....
Fast forward an agonizing hour on the same road. No houses, no restaurants. No electricity and no running water. I had even considered shattering the perfect girly image and go find a bush to do my biz-ness but the only bush/tree around looked like the scene from the karate kid where Ralph Macchio tries to save the bonzai and nearly dies by (none other than) plummeting to his doom down a cliff into the ocean. I was starting to lose faith while thinking of this theme song to keep me entertained when out of NO WHERE this gorgeous mansion with a paved driveway pops up. I thought it was a mirage! An art-dealing mirage! I yelled "Turn there! I need art!" or something close to that and simultaneously hopped out of the car and my flip flop in my haste and jammed my foot in the gravel. "No time! Save yourself!" I thought as I shoved it back on my foot possibly bleeding and infecting. I made it through the front door, looked like I belonged there for about 4 seconds until I word vomited my plea for a working toilet and tropical scented air-freshener. I tried to make it sound like "Excuse me Ma'am, but may I use you facilities, please? I promise to shop afterwards and make large purchases of your very over priced art work and glass thingies." but I am sure she heard nothing since by this time my body was starting to reject it's self and I was sweating more than what is appropriate for a twenty-something in flip flops.
I hit the head, released some demons and think I might have seen Jesus. Pretty cool guy, wears Birkenstocks.... As I vacated my bowels and then vacated the premises I had that terrible feeling of guilt. I just wrecked this poor lady's bathroom. Nothing that unholy had ever come out of me before but that's what a diet of alcohol, pork bits, and 17 pineapples a day will get you. I couldn't leave here without buying something. I wandered around...and wandered. I slipped in and out of the aisles trying to find something that could be justified as a purchase AND not break the bank. JesusH! $150 for a painting of a starfish? Really? Usbandhay was watching me in wonder. Wondering why weren't leaving that is since not a single thing in the gallery appealed to either one of our tastes when I finally came across a $12 ceramic turtle. Done. I paid in cash for my guilt-turtle and we continued on our way. Dehydrated. 2 pounds lighter. And with a severe respect for the digestive system of a traveling roasted pork consuming, one-week only alcoholic.
Best. $12. Ever.
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Friday, January 20, 2012
Parenting is dirty...and full of bacteria.
I read an article recently about child rearing and how awesome it is and it inspired me to write this blog post. Having a friend who is currently pregnant, I try to hold myself back for being that woman who constantly word vomits bits of wisdom, proving that I understand the process of womb explosion and successfully raising children without going to an all women's jail. So far I am almost 7 years in and I haven't been made someones bottom yet! (Knock on wood)
Parenting is messy. You think the hardest part is bushing a bowling ball out of your vajay-jay but I guaran-goddamn-tee you that it's not. I am here to SQUASH these misconceptions and add some truth to parenting.
Hair is over rated!
So now you have had your baby. The hard part is over, right? You've endured 9 months of *cross your fingers* an easy pregnancy. It just gets better from here! Right? RIGHT?!?
Well, I hate to break it to you but your skin is going to be flappy, your boobs are going to hurt and your hair is going to freaking fall out.
How did I go through my entire pregnancy with all of the advice the was unsolicited but given to me anyway and no one told me that my hair was going to fall out??? I seriously had some 117 year old lady at a Wal-mart, whom I had never met before tell me that if my baby was constipated to stick my finger in their ass to get stuff moving. WHAT?!? We could have skipped that little tidbit of your fucked up baby raisin' and you could have told me useful information like be prepared for clumps of hair to fall out (when you finally get to shower) like a cancer patient! By the way, in my experience a belly massage does WAY more than anal raping your poor baby..still shaking my head over this 7 years later.
"Enjoy every minute, it goes so fast"
Picture me this...About 3 weeks after giving birth to my twins I was sitting on the floor of the nursery, wiping poo off of my forearm, sobbing while 2 babies screamed bloody murder on the floor next to me after being fed, changed, cuddled, changed again, snuggled, swaddled and changed. In that moment with tears streaming down my face, my unwashed hair falling out of it's glamorous scrunchy and smelling like formula and throw up...I was most definitely NOT enjoying every minute.
I started thinking about what people had said to me. All of the "Oh what a gift" "You are so fortunate, I can't have babies" and the clincher "Enjoy every moment"! This only made me sob harder. I cried because I wasn't the glowing awesomeness that I was supposed to be and everyone told me I would be. I cried because I couldn't handle functioning on 20 minutes of sleep. I cried because I forgot to send my netflix's back and I won't get the new disc of 'Gilmore Girls' for 3 more days!
The truth: It's okay to not be a beautiful glowing wonder of womb awesomeness. It's okay not to enjoy EVERY minute. You smell, your haven't actually had a full shower in 10 days, you made wheat thins a full meal because you can eat them one handed and feed the baby in the other and you're gonna make it, sister! It sucks and you don't have to enjoy every minute of it. If your son pees on you, you don't have to find it endearing. If shit is running out of a diaper, you don't have to enjoy that moment and you CAN gag while trying to get them in the bathtub before they ruin the carpet! Having babies is hard...and messy...and bacteria laden! Do you realize how far poo can fly when used as a projectile!?! Just paint your walls brown now and save yourself a step.
Anything you can do I can do better!
No one warned me about the one-upper. You are sitting there at a play date(that's what you will start calling hanging out with someone that has kids too...) and your little Timmy is coloring a dinosaur bright orange with blue spots. You beam with pride that your little genius has finally figured out to color in the lines and not eat the crayola's (By the way...that IS amusing...it's like a diaper meets tie-dye! And it is okay to laugh before calling poison control.) The one-upper will have her child, little McStupid face, come over and tell you the freaking genus, species and preferred diet of the dinosaur! She'll sit there looking amused as you stammer something about how the other day Tommy said the funniest, smartest thing EVER! Be warned though...once this happens to you, you will find yourself locating weaker prey and doing this same thing. You'll be disgusted with yourself but secretly doing the "carlton" in your head.
SO...The brutal truth?
When you find yourself rocking back and forth at 3am and then you wake up at 3:15 standing in the same spot still rocking back and forth, know this: After all the shitty diapers, after all the sleepless nights, colic, and gas pains, it's worth it. It is SO worth every late night run to the pharmacy and sailor cuss words when running out of wipes at THE crucial moment. It's okay to cry, it's okay to be angry at the coffee pot for being 2 minutes off or the painting for being crooked. It's perfectly normal to start singing instructions to your husband/wife while you are rocking the baby so your keep a soothing rhythm. It get's better. First smiles, first steps and his first cuss word make all of the bad things so worth it. Until teens. That's when you just lock them in closet and drink your Mommy Juice, amiright?
Parenting is messy. You think the hardest part is bushing a bowling ball out of your vajay-jay but I guaran-goddamn-tee you that it's not. I am here to SQUASH these misconceptions and add some truth to parenting.
Hair is over rated!
So now you have had your baby. The hard part is over, right? You've endured 9 months of *cross your fingers* an easy pregnancy. It just gets better from here! Right? RIGHT?!?
Well, I hate to break it to you but your skin is going to be flappy, your boobs are going to hurt and your hair is going to freaking fall out.
How did I go through my entire pregnancy with all of the advice the was unsolicited but given to me anyway and no one told me that my hair was going to fall out??? I seriously had some 117 year old lady at a Wal-mart, whom I had never met before tell me that if my baby was constipated to stick my finger in their ass to get stuff moving. WHAT?!? We could have skipped that little tidbit of your fucked up baby raisin' and you could have told me useful information like be prepared for clumps of hair to fall out (when you finally get to shower) like a cancer patient! By the way, in my experience a belly massage does WAY more than anal raping your poor baby..still shaking my head over this 7 years later.
"Enjoy every minute, it goes so fast"
Picture me this...About 3 weeks after giving birth to my twins I was sitting on the floor of the nursery, wiping poo off of my forearm, sobbing while 2 babies screamed bloody murder on the floor next to me after being fed, changed, cuddled, changed again, snuggled, swaddled and changed. In that moment with tears streaming down my face, my unwashed hair falling out of it's glamorous scrunchy and smelling like formula and throw up...I was most definitely NOT enjoying every minute.
I started thinking about what people had said to me. All of the "Oh what a gift" "You are so fortunate, I can't have babies" and the clincher "Enjoy every moment"! This only made me sob harder. I cried because I wasn't the glowing awesomeness that I was supposed to be and everyone told me I would be. I cried because I couldn't handle functioning on 20 minutes of sleep. I cried because I forgot to send my netflix's back and I won't get the new disc of 'Gilmore Girls' for 3 more days!
The truth: It's okay to not be a beautiful glowing wonder of womb awesomeness. It's okay not to enjoy EVERY minute. You smell, your haven't actually had a full shower in 10 days, you made wheat thins a full meal because you can eat them one handed and feed the baby in the other and you're gonna make it, sister! It sucks and you don't have to enjoy every minute of it. If your son pees on you, you don't have to find it endearing. If shit is running out of a diaper, you don't have to enjoy that moment and you CAN gag while trying to get them in the bathtub before they ruin the carpet! Having babies is hard...and messy...and bacteria laden! Do you realize how far poo can fly when used as a projectile!?! Just paint your walls brown now and save yourself a step.
Anything you can do I can do better!
No one warned me about the one-upper. You are sitting there at a play date(that's what you will start calling hanging out with someone that has kids too...) and your little Timmy is coloring a dinosaur bright orange with blue spots. You beam with pride that your little genius has finally figured out to color in the lines and not eat the crayola's (By the way...that IS amusing...it's like a diaper meets tie-dye! And it is okay to laugh before calling poison control.) The one-upper will have her child, little McStupid face, come over and tell you the freaking genus, species and preferred diet of the dinosaur! She'll sit there looking amused as you stammer something about how the other day Tommy said the funniest, smartest thing EVER! Be warned though...once this happens to you, you will find yourself locating weaker prey and doing this same thing. You'll be disgusted with yourself but secretly doing the "carlton" in your head.
SO...The brutal truth?
When you find yourself rocking back and forth at 3am and then you wake up at 3:15 standing in the same spot still rocking back and forth, know this: After all the shitty diapers, after all the sleepless nights, colic, and gas pains, it's worth it. It is SO worth every late night run to the pharmacy and sailor cuss words when running out of wipes at THE crucial moment. It's okay to cry, it's okay to be angry at the coffee pot for being 2 minutes off or the painting for being crooked. It's perfectly normal to start singing instructions to your husband/wife while you are rocking the baby so your keep a soothing rhythm. It get's better. First smiles, first steps and his first cuss word make all of the bad things so worth it. Until teens. That's when you just lock them in closet and drink your Mommy Juice, amiright?
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