The time has come. I knew it would happen someday, but still, it seems too soon. I have turned into a full-fledged, card-carrying adult. The evidence? I have purchased a grocery-getter.*
(Dramatic pause for your gasp)
For the past month, Pete and I have been car shopping. The main criteria was that the car was all-wheel drive because if I'm driving the kids around on slippery roads, I wanted a safe car. That narrowed down the vehicle field. Initially I was drawn to the Nissan Juke, which not only has a cool name but is a super awesome little car. I was so excited - black and red interior - just what I need! Then I saw the trunk space and that's when I knew. I was old. I recoiled as I looked at the trunk and said, "I couldn't get a day's worth of groceries in that thing! There's no way that will work." We settled on the Subaru Outback - not only is it known as a safe car, it is all-wheel drive and...it has so much space! My boys have a ton of room in the back seat and I can buy a week's worth of groceries without worrying about space. That's right, I have a freaking grocery-getter and I'm stoked.
When did I start wanting to make responsible, family-friendly purchases willingly? It started slowly with the Dyson (Best. Vacuum. Ever.) But still I didn't see the signs of responsible adulthood coming and now I have a glorified station wagon. But in my defense, I'm not the only one to succumb. Just last week I was out to dinner with my two best friends. As we sipped our wine, we waxed on about the virtues of new windows and debated how to keep a basement from flooding - it would probably be worth the money to have the basement repair people check it out. Time out! How did we get here I want to know!? I met these women in my very early twenties and worked at Victoria's Secret with them - I have had such silly moments with these two and not once did they involve expensive windows or cargo space. Our worlds have evolved from perky bra to nursing bras.
And that's okay. We all have families now that we love more than we could ever describe. We want to provide safe houses and vehicles for them. It is just odd when you realize that without noticing, your priorities in life have completely shifted. In our early twenties, we were trying to figure out how to graduate college while going to class as little as possible (maybe that was just me.) In our later thirties we are trying to figure out which sports leagues to sign our kids up for and if we can make it to all of the practices. My clothing purchases have shifted from expensive bras to expensive sports shoes. Our younger years parties were BYOB; now we are organizing potlucks for soccer tournaments - and having as much if not more fun. Change is good. Eventually we'll cycle again as we go through the empty nest phase and I'll be back in my smaller cars and my friends will buy cruises instead of windows. Thank goodness for lifelong girlfriends because I'm hoping to go with them! But for now, we are too busy figuring out bus schedules to look up cruise packages.
I must confess, I was super excited to go to Costco today - how much will that trunk really hold? And my fate as an adult is sealed.
*No vans ever. Seriously. I know how much some of you love them. I have to draw the line somewhere.
Monday, August 11, 2014
Wednesday, August 6, 2014
You Liked Them When You Were Little OR There's No Such Thing as TMI
In an attempt to overcome some of my body image issues, I've been wearing a bikini to the beach. It's kind of like looking at spiders if you have arachnophobia - if you take the fear head on, you'll overcome it, right? Who knew how much this would backfire.
The Moose is 10 years old and was adamant about me wearing a one piece. "Mom, it would be so embarrassing if you wear a bikini!" Obviously this comment is disturbing. Am I such a monstrosity that wearing a two piece swimsuit would emotionally scar my child for life? God help me, get me some Slim Fast! Because I believe in completely understanding my latest annual review from my child, I dig deeper.
Me: "Okay, you have to tell me what is so awful about me wearing a bikini."
Moose, groaning: "Mom, I CAN'T tell you."
Me: "Yeah, well that's not going to work so I'll just start asking. Is it my legs?"
Moose: "No."
Me: "My tummy?"
Moose: "No."
Me: "My tattoo?"
Moose: "No."
Moose: "No."
Me: "My scar?" (I have a 7 inch vertical scar on my stomach courtesy of Rocco. Some push present.)
Moose: "No."
Me: "My belly button ring?"
Moose: "No."
(My twenties were awesome! I did a lot of cliche college student body art.)
Me: "I'm out of ideas."
Well, after more probing from my husband, it turns out my boobs are the culprit. Yes folks, my boobs. The one thing that I don't have much of was the one thing Moose found too embarrassing to be around. Unfortunately there's not much I can do about them and informed Moose as much. If boobs were the issue, he could just suck it up.
So now I go to the beach in a yellow bikini (go big or go home is my motto), a little happy that my boobs could actually attract notice for once. Except that backfires with the Rock.
As we are walking up to the Tropic Snow stand, I am physically accosted....by my four year old, who has taken a handful of my boob. To be honest, the first thing in my head was "what now?" Instead this conversation followed:
Me: "Rock, what are you doing?! You can't grab my boob."
Rock: "Yes I can." (Always so literal...)
Me: "Yes I see that, but you need to let go of it. You don't grab my boobs."
Rock: "But boobs are my favorite!"
This piece of enlightenment earned a solid 20 second pause from me.
Me: "Well, that's great that you like boobs, but you can't grab mine."
Rock: "I like them and those boobs are mine."
Me: "Those boobs haven't been yours in over 3 years. They are mine now."
Perfect time for my husband to overhear this conversation and join in. From this point forward, he and Rock argued over who had ownership of my boobs. I cut in to remind them that the said boobs were indeed mine, with a warning look at my husband that hopefully conveyed to end the conversation if boobs were his favorite too.
Obviously I have underestimated the power of my boobs. I breastfed both kids with them which is a pretty amazing feat of nature. (And now understanding how they feel about them, their eating habits make a lot more sense.) I never thought they would cause so much controversy for my older son or fascination with my younger son - and my husband. Being a mom, they sort of became a utilitarian feature on my body, one I don't give too much thought about anymore, especially after the breastfeeding makeover they received. While I'm not excited that they incite mortification in adolescent boys or that my youngest has already established himself as a boob man, I'm a little happy that they still are noticed. It's a wonder more superheros aren't women.
Monday, December 2, 2013
12 Hours of Chaos or Ho Ho Ho Get To Bed!
Who says we can't have the holiday spirit all year long?
In these past Twelve Hours of Chaos, my beloveds gave to me...
12 excuses for another drink of water at bedtime,
11 pleas for one more piece of candy,
10 minutes of hiding behind the sofa when I didn't know where he was,
9 attempts to pick the lock on the bathroom door when his brother was using the potty,
8 ounces of yogurt spilled on the floor,
7 smacks with toy swords,
6 shouts to stop fighting,
5 really good Cyber Monday emails I'm ignoring,
4 threats of no TV,
3 questioning looks at dinner,
2 exchanged looks when I tell them to get their pajamas on,
And 1 poop too big to flush down.
Thursday, November 14, 2013
An Exciting Reminder of the Meaning of Life or I Finally Took Oprah's Advice and Simplified!
Nothing like a little crime to end writer's block!
A few weeks ago I started a new job that I love. And a week ago, on a rainy night, all of my stuff was stolen from the parking lot of my new job. My Coach purse, work bag, brand new Ipad, identification, credit cards, pictures, books, you name it, gone. The guy ran off with everything important to me. He actually opened my car door while I was in the car and took everything. And, because I already had my seat belt on (I'm a responsible driver), I wasn't fast enough to grab him and my stuff. I stomped my feet, screamed "fucker!" at him (I'm sure this was really fun to watch on the security camera) and called 911.
According to the police and anyone with a healthy sense of survival, getting out of your car to go after someone after they've robbed you is not the best choice. I explained to Peter that I was surprised it even happened because I thought I looked like a bad ass. He informed me I look like a small blonde woman.
I was shaking as I told the cops what happened. I was shaking as Pete drove me home. I was shaking when I called the credit card companies and the credit bureau to put alerts on my accounts. I was shaking when I called Apple about the security of my Ipad. I was shaking when I told Pete to go get new locks for the house because this guy had our address and our house keys.
Then, about 2 hours after it all happened, I stopped shaking. I looked at my babies, who were trying really hard to act like things were normal, like their dad asked them to. The Moose kept trying to give me backrubs (sweet, but not normal) and The Rock was not listening and intentionally doing what I asked him not to (totally normal). And all of the injustice, anger and violation kind of swirled about and went down the drain like bathwater. Because all that really is important to me is right here. These babies are fine.
Pete went back to the scene of the crime and found my purse in a dumpster, with all my id and house keys etc. The cash and Ipad are gone for good. Some of my stuff is ruined. All in all, I've lost about $1700 worth of stuff. But you know what? It's stuff. And I really could care less. The babies are safe and honest to goodness, it is all I care about.
See, maybe if we own stuff that we feel is irreplaceable, perhaps that means that we place too much emphasis on our stuff. If we can't let it go, maybe we shouldn't own it in the first place. I'm not saying I don't want my Coach purse or my Ipad back - I really do. I bought the Ipad for Max so it really sucks that he doesn't have it now. And I might have an unhealthy relationship with my purse and I might have even had a conversations with it. But if I decided to be upset about the stuff rather than focus on the fact that the people who ARE irreplaceable are home and safe (although they make me crazy because they won't go to bed), I'd really be missing the whole point of life. And this whole thing reminds me to kiss and hug my babies every day because life is just plain weird. No matter what happens, they will know I love them to the core.
At the end of the day, I didn't really lose much. I did gain a great story however. And on a Sunshine-kind of day, I'd like to think the thief used my money for fruits and vegetables and some whole grain bread for his family. And that the Ipad is going to be a birthday gift for his kid, if he can just figure out how to reset it. I'd like to think that my "charitable donation" to the community went to some good.
A few weeks ago I started a new job that I love. And a week ago, on a rainy night, all of my stuff was stolen from the parking lot of my new job. My Coach purse, work bag, brand new Ipad, identification, credit cards, pictures, books, you name it, gone. The guy ran off with everything important to me. He actually opened my car door while I was in the car and took everything. And, because I already had my seat belt on (I'm a responsible driver), I wasn't fast enough to grab him and my stuff. I stomped my feet, screamed "fucker!" at him (I'm sure this was really fun to watch on the security camera) and called 911.
According to the police and anyone with a healthy sense of survival, getting out of your car to go after someone after they've robbed you is not the best choice. I explained to Peter that I was surprised it even happened because I thought I looked like a bad ass. He informed me I look like a small blonde woman.
What I feel like
What Peter says I look like
I was shaking as I told the cops what happened. I was shaking as Pete drove me home. I was shaking when I called the credit card companies and the credit bureau to put alerts on my accounts. I was shaking when I called Apple about the security of my Ipad. I was shaking when I told Pete to go get new locks for the house because this guy had our address and our house keys.
Then, about 2 hours after it all happened, I stopped shaking. I looked at my babies, who were trying really hard to act like things were normal, like their dad asked them to. The Moose kept trying to give me backrubs (sweet, but not normal) and The Rock was not listening and intentionally doing what I asked him not to (totally normal). And all of the injustice, anger and violation kind of swirled about and went down the drain like bathwater. Because all that really is important to me is right here. These babies are fine.
Pete went back to the scene of the crime and found my purse in a dumpster, with all my id and house keys etc. The cash and Ipad are gone for good. Some of my stuff is ruined. All in all, I've lost about $1700 worth of stuff. But you know what? It's stuff. And I really could care less. The babies are safe and honest to goodness, it is all I care about.
See, maybe if we own stuff that we feel is irreplaceable, perhaps that means that we place too much emphasis on our stuff. If we can't let it go, maybe we shouldn't own it in the first place. I'm not saying I don't want my Coach purse or my Ipad back - I really do. I bought the Ipad for Max so it really sucks that he doesn't have it now. And I might have an unhealthy relationship with my purse and I might have even had a conversations with it. But if I decided to be upset about the stuff rather than focus on the fact that the people who ARE irreplaceable are home and safe (although they make me crazy because they won't go to bed), I'd really be missing the whole point of life. And this whole thing reminds me to kiss and hug my babies every day because life is just plain weird. No matter what happens, they will know I love them to the core.
At the end of the day, I didn't really lose much. I did gain a great story however. And on a Sunshine-kind of day, I'd like to think the thief used my money for fruits and vegetables and some whole grain bread for his family. And that the Ipad is going to be a birthday gift for his kid, if he can just figure out how to reset it. I'd like to think that my "charitable donation" to the community went to some good.
Wednesday, June 26, 2013
Deep Thoughts By Yours Truly
Well, these aren't quite deep thoughts. But since I've been too busy to actually write a real post, I decided to leave you with a few random thoughts instead.
1. What the hell AutoCorrect? Have you never done AutoCorrect for a parent before? When I say poopy, I do not mean popping. Who says popping more than poopy? And poppy instead of puke? Seriously? I would like to submit the following words to AutoCorrect: poopy, barf, puke, and losingmyfuckingmind. Clearly my texting is not sexy.
2. Why can't all public bathrooms have big stalls? Have you ever tried to maneuver a small child onto a toilet seat in what is the equivalent of a 18 inch x 18 inch box? I just want to give the middle finger to whoever designed these types of restrooms whenever I take my youngest to the bathroom, which means three times per meal at a restaurant because you put up those damned hanging beads on the hall to the restroom and they are SO FUN to go through. DO NOT GET ME STARTED ON PORTA POTTIES OR I WILL POPPY!
3. Is there a rule about not serving cereal for dinner? Because breakfast didn't get picked up this morning and the box of cereal sitting on the counter looks way more appealing than actually cooking something nutritious. If I throw on some gummy vitamins, that makes it a well balanced meal, right?
4. And what about ice cream for dinner? That seems like an adult choice to me.
5. I am going to write the Rock's future teachers apology notes at the beginning of the school year, apologizing for all future behavior. Because yes, I am the parent that laughs when he acts up. He is hilarious.
6. Kissing my 9 year-old in public is the worst possible punishment I can inflict on him that is legal. I have pointed out to him that while this does not embarrass me in the least, I know it mortifies him so he better stop rolling his eyes at me.
7. Apparently beauty cream is a hoax. I told my 3 year-old that it makes Mommy pretty and then I made the mistake of asking him if it worked. After a critical assessment, the answer is no. Screw you Oil of Olay. Side note, he is the one I will rely on to dress me for my funeral because I know he will pick out the most flattering outfit.
8. When I look at my dear children now, it freaks me out that I ever birthed something so large. Now I know what elephants feel like. And not just because I wear a lot of neutral colors and have saggy skin too.
9. What is the line between explicit and REALLY explicit music? Somehow one or two F-bombs are okay, but not straight cussing in rap. How did we ever decide upon this justification?
10. I am more concerned when I hear my children swearing inappropriately than when I hear them drop a justified cuss word. I have accepted that they will know how to swear - I just don't want them sounding like idiots doing it.
11. How did I ever live without these two little beasts in my life?
And that's all for now folks! Have a great night and tip your servers!
1. What the hell AutoCorrect? Have you never done AutoCorrect for a parent before? When I say poopy, I do not mean popping. Who says popping more than poopy? And poppy instead of puke? Seriously? I would like to submit the following words to AutoCorrect: poopy, barf, puke, and losingmyfuckingmind. Clearly my texting is not sexy.
2. Why can't all public bathrooms have big stalls? Have you ever tried to maneuver a small child onto a toilet seat in what is the equivalent of a 18 inch x 18 inch box? I just want to give the middle finger to whoever designed these types of restrooms whenever I take my youngest to the bathroom, which means three times per meal at a restaurant because you put up those damned hanging beads on the hall to the restroom and they are SO FUN to go through. DO NOT GET ME STARTED ON PORTA POTTIES OR I WILL POPPY!
3. Is there a rule about not serving cereal for dinner? Because breakfast didn't get picked up this morning and the box of cereal sitting on the counter looks way more appealing than actually cooking something nutritious. If I throw on some gummy vitamins, that makes it a well balanced meal, right?
4. And what about ice cream for dinner? That seems like an adult choice to me.
5. I am going to write the Rock's future teachers apology notes at the beginning of the school year, apologizing for all future behavior. Because yes, I am the parent that laughs when he acts up. He is hilarious.
6. Kissing my 9 year-old in public is the worst possible punishment I can inflict on him that is legal. I have pointed out to him that while this does not embarrass me in the least, I know it mortifies him so he better stop rolling his eyes at me.
7. Apparently beauty cream is a hoax. I told my 3 year-old that it makes Mommy pretty and then I made the mistake of asking him if it worked. After a critical assessment, the answer is no. Screw you Oil of Olay. Side note, he is the one I will rely on to dress me for my funeral because I know he will pick out the most flattering outfit.
8. When I look at my dear children now, it freaks me out that I ever birthed something so large. Now I know what elephants feel like. And not just because I wear a lot of neutral colors and have saggy skin too.
9. What is the line between explicit and REALLY explicit music? Somehow one or two F-bombs are okay, but not straight cussing in rap. How did we ever decide upon this justification?
10. I am more concerned when I hear my children swearing inappropriately than when I hear them drop a justified cuss word. I have accepted that they will know how to swear - I just don't want them sounding like idiots doing it.
11. How did I ever live without these two little beasts in my life?
And that's all for now folks! Have a great night and tip your servers!
Monday, May 13, 2013
The Age Old Parenting Debate or To Spanx or Not to Spanx, That Is the Question
Moms, are you ready to discuss one of the most heated debates of parenting? Yes, even I am going to address it on my blog. I don't do it, don't believe in it and don't think it helps to raise my children to be the kind of adults I want them to be. I don't Spanx. Of course I'm not going to talk about spanking. First of all, I don't want to know if you do or not and I don't really feel like discussing it. Besides, the issue of spanxing is way more near and dear to my heart.
What brings this important topic up today? I had too much time in an airport and spent that time looking like a ditz, reading Cosmo magazine. To my defense, Oprah also discusses it, but in hindsight, that also makes me look ditzy. Crap. Anyway...it's spanx this, spanx that. Here's the thing. I don't do it and I'm going to tell you why.
1. False Advertising: Look, I'm a perfectionist. As a FORMER size 4-6, I feel as though it is my responsibility to once again get into that size by my own accord. Using any other method to look svelte is just plain cheating and no one likes a cheater. If I want to look like I have an awesome body, I personally feel that I better work for it. And work for it. And work for it. And until then, well, the mirror is just a good reminder that 1. I should get to the gym more often and 2. I should buy clothes that look better on me now. And for goodness sake, my husband knows what I really look like anyway.
2. Pretty Undergarments: You all know that I worked at Victoria's Secret for a couple of years during college. I made some of my best friends there and I also developed a certain standard for my undergarments there as well. I only want to wear pretty bras and panties. As a mom, I might be covered in puke or finger paint on the outside, but underneath, I can still look pretty. (Side note, pretty bras do not make up for smelling like puke however.) And Cosmo kept addressing how do you hide your Spanx when you are hooking up on a booty call. Well, I say, I'll never be put in that situation! I just won't wear ugly panties. Or, it goes without saying, have a booty call with a stranger.
3. Standards: Let me get all Woman-Power on you and say, Ladies, it's time we stand up to this standard of having to be a size 2 after having 2 kids, working full-time and eating a diet of chicken nuggets and turkey sandwiches. Aren't we all supposed to be above this by now? We are supposed to look healthy, not like super models. We are supposed to be secure with our body image and teach our children to love themselves just the way they are! To hell with Spanx! Let's wear flowing skirts, eat organic fruit snacks (oh the irony) and make our own crafts out of leftover egg cartons. I am woman, hear me roar! (This dichotomy is what happens when I read Parents magazine and Cosmo at the same time.)
So whether you Spanx or not is really up to you - it's your personal decision and one each parent needs to make for herself. But now you know where I stand on this very important subject. I'm just going to head to the gym now, then shower, throw on some super cute bra and panty set and a long flowy skirt.
What brings this important topic up today? I had too much time in an airport and spent that time looking like a ditz, reading Cosmo magazine. To my defense, Oprah also discusses it, but in hindsight, that also makes me look ditzy. Crap. Anyway...it's spanx this, spanx that. Here's the thing. I don't do it and I'm going to tell you why.
1. False Advertising: Look, I'm a perfectionist. As a FORMER size 4-6, I feel as though it is my responsibility to once again get into that size by my own accord. Using any other method to look svelte is just plain cheating and no one likes a cheater. If I want to look like I have an awesome body, I personally feel that I better work for it. And work for it. And work for it. And until then, well, the mirror is just a good reminder that 1. I should get to the gym more often and 2. I should buy clothes that look better on me now. And for goodness sake, my husband knows what I really look like anyway.
2. Pretty Undergarments: You all know that I worked at Victoria's Secret for a couple of years during college. I made some of my best friends there and I also developed a certain standard for my undergarments there as well. I only want to wear pretty bras and panties. As a mom, I might be covered in puke or finger paint on the outside, but underneath, I can still look pretty. (Side note, pretty bras do not make up for smelling like puke however.) And Cosmo kept addressing how do you hide your Spanx when you are hooking up on a booty call. Well, I say, I'll never be put in that situation! I just won't wear ugly panties. Or, it goes without saying, have a booty call with a stranger.
3. Standards: Let me get all Woman-Power on you and say, Ladies, it's time we stand up to this standard of having to be a size 2 after having 2 kids, working full-time and eating a diet of chicken nuggets and turkey sandwiches. Aren't we all supposed to be above this by now? We are supposed to look healthy, not like super models. We are supposed to be secure with our body image and teach our children to love themselves just the way they are! To hell with Spanx! Let's wear flowing skirts, eat organic fruit snacks (oh the irony) and make our own crafts out of leftover egg cartons. I am woman, hear me roar! (This dichotomy is what happens when I read Parents magazine and Cosmo at the same time.)
So whether you Spanx or not is really up to you - it's your personal decision and one each parent needs to make for herself. But now you know where I stand on this very important subject. I'm just going to head to the gym now, then shower, throw on some super cute bra and panty set and a long flowy skirt.
Tuesday, April 30, 2013
My Four Golden Rules (Because One Is Not Enough and Five Is Too Many)
Rocking the Moose when he was three months old, I would coo at him and gaze into his eyes. I would tell him how smart and funny he is, how perfect he is, and how he should always wear condoms. I believed it was never too early to lay the right foundation of my expectations for him.
After I had the Moose, I gave considerable thought to what I call My Golden Rules. If my boys follow these four simple rules, they really should avoid most of life's disasters. Most other trouble they get into pales in comparison to the trouble they will get into if they break one of these rules. I accept that my kiddos will screw up and screw up often. And I will love them through it. All I ask is that they follow these four simple rules and I promise to forgive them for pretty much everything else.
1. No Smoking: Seriously, if I catch one of my boys with a cigarette (or chewing tobacco) in their mouth, I will slap it right out, even if they are thirty years old. Sure sure, you might argue that they can make their own choices when they are an adult. No, I say, not if they are fucking up. And smoking will fuck them up. Do you know how much prenatal care I followed to have healthy babies? I gave up lunch meat BEFORE I got pregnant, in the anticipation of GETTING pregnant. I gave up caffeine, which is my life blood, for them both for two years - one during each of their pregnancies and one for the year I nursed them - that's four years total! And let's not even get into the permanent damage they did to my boobs during the breast feeding. Hell if I'm going to let them mess up their lungs after all I did to give them healthy ones in the first place.
2. No Drugs/Drinking: Okay, part of this is unrealistic, I know. The drugs part, I'm holding strong. I've gotten through life this far without doing drugs, and I expect the same from them. Nothing good comes from doing drugs. They are addicting, damaging, ruin your career/life, and can kill you. I'm done sounding like the Reagan Administration. Just don't do drugs. As for the drinking, just be responsible. Get a DD. Call me if you mess up. Don't drive drunk. Nuff said.
3. Always Respect Women: I just won't tolerate disrespecting women, and this includes their children. When I thought up these rules, I thought "what offenses could I just not forgive if my children committed them?" And rape or any form of sexual, physical, domestic abuse comes to mind. I just won't have it. So don't do it. Respect any woman in your life, including teachers, parents, girlfriends, coworkers, wives. By respecting women, you in turn respect their children because any woman can tell you that their children are simply an extension of themselves. If I hear of you disrespecting women, I will come down on you like a fury and you will remember that Mom is the Boss. Again, your age is meaningless. I will always be your mom and if you are really fucking up, I will set you straight.
4. Practice Safe Sex: There are too many consequences that come from ignoring this rule. For God's sake and mine, wear a condom! I rocked my boys to sleep reviewing my Golden Rules, including this one. I'm hoping it sticks a little subconsciously because we have a few years before we can have the sex talk and I really need them to remember this rule. STDs and babies last forever. They only need a condom for 20 minutes. I promise to grow a pair and teach them all about condoms when they get a little older if they promise to follow rule number four. And I don't care if she's on the pill. HIV could care less too. And this one ties nicely into Rule Number Three!
So that sums up my main rules. Everything else is really minor compared to these Golden Four. I've had them in place for almost 9 years now and haven't seen any circumstances that would cause me to change them. I can handle swearing, slamming doors, and rolling eyes (personally guilty of all three!) I will yell at them and send them to their rooms, but I will know, those offenses aren't deal breakers. Of course I have created other rules over the years, but they are really level two rules, like "Never wear those awful school color overalls, even if you are drunk and tailgating, because I will take a pair of scissors and cut them off - walking around in your boxers is less embarrassing than those overalls." But the overalls do not have life changing consequences - they just make you look like an idiot and would probably eliminate the need for Rule Number Four. The Golden Four can change your world if you don't follow them. As a mom, I can only do so much to guide my boys and so far, I've noticed that boys can only remember about 4 things at a time (note - if the topic is Skylanders or Pokemon, the memory becomes infinite). Feel free to steal my rules if you want - as you can see, I don't have stealing listed above. I'm hoping the Ten Commandments covers that one.
After I had the Moose, I gave considerable thought to what I call My Golden Rules. If my boys follow these four simple rules, they really should avoid most of life's disasters. Most other trouble they get into pales in comparison to the trouble they will get into if they break one of these rules. I accept that my kiddos will screw up and screw up often. And I will love them through it. All I ask is that they follow these four simple rules and I promise to forgive them for pretty much everything else.
1. No Smoking: Seriously, if I catch one of my boys with a cigarette (or chewing tobacco) in their mouth, I will slap it right out, even if they are thirty years old. Sure sure, you might argue that they can make their own choices when they are an adult. No, I say, not if they are fucking up. And smoking will fuck them up. Do you know how much prenatal care I followed to have healthy babies? I gave up lunch meat BEFORE I got pregnant, in the anticipation of GETTING pregnant. I gave up caffeine, which is my life blood, for them both for two years - one during each of their pregnancies and one for the year I nursed them - that's four years total! And let's not even get into the permanent damage they did to my boobs during the breast feeding. Hell if I'm going to let them mess up their lungs after all I did to give them healthy ones in the first place.
2. No Drugs/Drinking: Okay, part of this is unrealistic, I know. The drugs part, I'm holding strong. I've gotten through life this far without doing drugs, and I expect the same from them. Nothing good comes from doing drugs. They are addicting, damaging, ruin your career/life, and can kill you. I'm done sounding like the Reagan Administration. Just don't do drugs. As for the drinking, just be responsible. Get a DD. Call me if you mess up. Don't drive drunk. Nuff said.
3. Always Respect Women: I just won't tolerate disrespecting women, and this includes their children. When I thought up these rules, I thought "what offenses could I just not forgive if my children committed them?" And rape or any form of sexual, physical, domestic abuse comes to mind. I just won't have it. So don't do it. Respect any woman in your life, including teachers, parents, girlfriends, coworkers, wives. By respecting women, you in turn respect their children because any woman can tell you that their children are simply an extension of themselves. If I hear of you disrespecting women, I will come down on you like a fury and you will remember that Mom is the Boss. Again, your age is meaningless. I will always be your mom and if you are really fucking up, I will set you straight.
4. Practice Safe Sex: There are too many consequences that come from ignoring this rule. For God's sake and mine, wear a condom! I rocked my boys to sleep reviewing my Golden Rules, including this one. I'm hoping it sticks a little subconsciously because we have a few years before we can have the sex talk and I really need them to remember this rule. STDs and babies last forever. They only need a condom for 20 minutes. I promise to grow a pair and teach them all about condoms when they get a little older if they promise to follow rule number four. And I don't care if she's on the pill. HIV could care less too. And this one ties nicely into Rule Number Three!
So that sums up my main rules. Everything else is really minor compared to these Golden Four. I've had them in place for almost 9 years now and haven't seen any circumstances that would cause me to change them. I can handle swearing, slamming doors, and rolling eyes (personally guilty of all three!) I will yell at them and send them to their rooms, but I will know, those offenses aren't deal breakers. Of course I have created other rules over the years, but they are really level two rules, like "Never wear those awful school color overalls, even if you are drunk and tailgating, because I will take a pair of scissors and cut them off - walking around in your boxers is less embarrassing than those overalls." But the overalls do not have life changing consequences - they just make you look like an idiot and would probably eliminate the need for Rule Number Four. The Golden Four can change your world if you don't follow them. As a mom, I can only do so much to guide my boys and so far, I've noticed that boys can only remember about 4 things at a time (note - if the topic is Skylanders or Pokemon, the memory becomes infinite). Feel free to steal my rules if you want - as you can see, I don't have stealing listed above. I'm hoping the Ten Commandments covers that one.
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