Tuesday, October 28, 2014

Toddler-to-teenager Contract

My kids love the shit out of me right now. They think I am thebomb.com. They think I am the smartest, prettiest, funniest person they have ever met. I am their hero, their provider, and their earth, sun and moon at the moment. But I know that someday that will change.

Hormones, peer pressure and life will soon cloud their vision of their mommy. There will be times when they hate me for my mere existence. And it is not their fault. Or mine. But I know it will happen, no matter how good of a mom I am.

So I decided to do something about it. Now. I made them sign a contract to like me and acknowledge my existence even when they become overly-hormonal jerks. And I am going to lock it in the safe and pull it out whenever they start acting like assholes just because they're teenagers. Because what kind of mother would I be if I didn't manipulate my toddlers into signing a legally binding contract to love me? Wait...don't answer that.


If you click on The Quiet Contemplator's contract, you can download your own for your kiddos to fill out. Be sure to let me know if you forced had your little pumpkins put pen to paper to protect your future relationship.

If you share this post, I will buy you a pony. I suck at Twitter. I am OK at Facebook. Pinterest is my bitch. I am also on Bloglovin' and Instagram.

Monday, October 27, 2014

I’m so (not) fancy.

So as you may have gathered by reading my blog, following me on social media or, god forbid, knowing me in person, I am about as fancy and high falutin’ as they come. Wait for it…wait for it…NOT!

Note the missing screen and home button. Oops...

I have had the same iPhone through about 14 upgraded generations and only finally bit the bullet and upgraded to the 6 when mine started literally cutting a bitch: me. Since my track record has not been so great with dropping it face-down on hard surfaces multiple times a day, I decided I might need to add a bit of a protective layer to my new phone—more like I should just cover myself in bubble wrap on the daily because I am a complete and total accident-prone idiot.

I also recently received an iPad mini as a gift and wanted it to last longer than our last iPad, which died a swift death at the hands of me and one-too-many glasses of wine during a Project Runway marathon. Oops. But I made that shit work for three more years by covering the shattered glass with clear packing tape. Take that, Tim Gunn!

I like things that are a bit different so I searched Zazzle since I have used them in the past and am super happy with their style and quality. I was not disappointed. If anything, I was overwhelmed. Holy fucking selection, Batman!

A little upgrade. The bottom reads: I'm so (not) fancy.

If you need to keep your electronics under wraps and want to be a little sassy or pick something personalized, check out Zazzle. Use the code URCUSTOMCASE to get 30% off through November 26, 2014! 

And to my new electronics: you’re WELCOME!

If you share this post, I will buy you a pony. I suck at Twitter. I am OK at Facebook. Pinterest is my bitch. I am also on Bloglovin' and Instagram.

This post was sponsored by Zazzle but they didn't break my iPhone nor my arm to force me to use one of their cases. They know I was trained by Chuck Norris and would big the pain if they ever forced anything on me.

Friday, October 17, 2014

Marital Sex Negotiators FTW

Because, well...yes. Just so much yes. You're welcome.



If you share this post, I will buy you a pony. I suck at Twitter. I am OK at Facebook. Pinterest is my bitch. I am also on Bloglovin' and Instagram.

Thursday, October 16, 2014

If I turn up dead, you'll know where to look...

You guys, I did it. I know this story is going to become an urban legend, but I swear to God it is true. It happened to me. Not a friend of my friend’s cousin’s brother’s ex-girlfriend. Me. 

You probably won't believe me but I promise it is the truth. So, here it is: I went to Target and only bought the things on my list—AND spent under $100. I know this sounds crazy but it is real.

I know I am putting my life on the line admitting something like this. There will be people looking for me to erase the truth. But I am willing to sacrifice myself to help others. You really don't have to go through the dollar aisle. Or browse the kids’ clothes. Or peruse the clearance end caps. It is all just part of the man's master plan. Don't fall for it.

Needless to say, I am really scared right now. I plan to go into hiding until things calm down a bit. If for some reason I go missing without a trace, you will know where to look. Follow the red bull's-eye to my killer.

Until we meet again, stay strong and put down that damn Red Card! 

xoxo

The Beer Bitch

If you share this post, I will buy you a pony. I suck at Twitter. I am OK at Facebook. Pinterest is my bitch. I am also on Bloglovin' and Instagram.

Wednesday, October 15, 2014

Because someday you might need someone to help you bury a body.

I’ve written about friendship before. About how to be a good friend. 

One of the main ways I stay in touch with my friends nowadays is by having movie night. Every Wednesday night. At my house. Crazy, I know, but it is so easy to fall out of touch with the people that you care about, yet so easy to stay in touch with them if you just try a little.

So every Wednesday, my closest group of friends come over and we all make a meal together, share a few drinks and watch a movie. Usually we stream something horrible on Netflix, like Sharknado, Cockneys vs Zombies or Strippers vs werewolves (seriously, those last two movies exist and are freaking hilarious). But no matter what is on the TV or our plates, we all get to spend some quality time hanging out. 

As parents, we rarely find time to do things like this for ourselves. We are so focused on our children’s lives and friends, that we rarely take a minute to care about our own.

One night, instead of watching a movie, we all worked together to build a fort. And then we got drunk in that fort. And, god damn it, THAT was awesome. Because our kids don’t have to be awake for us to have fun. 

The Fort

I have even played Play-Doh with my friends before. Granted, there were a lot of dicks molded out of my kids’ clay, but they were colorful and AWESOME dicks.

Sorry, kids...

So gather your friends. Make time for them. Watch a game, make some dicks or play some Cards Against Humanity (LOVE that game and Rush Limbaugh's soft, shitty body). Just be sure to stop being the perfect parent and have fun with your adult friends every once in a while. I promise it won’t hurt.

If you share this post, I will buy you a pony. I suck at Twitter. I am OK at Facebook. Pinterest is my bitch. I am also on Bloglovin' and Instagram.

Thursday, October 2, 2014

Raising independent children isn’t child abuse.


Lately, I have noticed a startling trend: children who are wholly dependent upon others to meet their own needs. Not babies, mind you, but preschoolers and even adult children. In our efforts to become the perfect mothers in our Pinterest-centric generation, we have started coddling the crap out of our kids. Not just providing our kids with what they need to survive and thrive, but providing them with every single thing they could possibly imagine, from iPads to tantrum-induced food choices. Our kids are losing the ability to think and do for themselves.

This child-centric way of living is a far cry from the parent-centric world that most of us grew up in. We listen to Yo Gabba Gabba in the car, watch Caillou on the TV, make dinners around what our children will eat, schedule our every waking moment around our children. This is insanity. Just think what your dad would have said growing up if you had demanded all of this. My dad would have laughed his ass off and told me to get my over-privileged butt outside and rake the leaves.

But we are often left feeling like if we don’t do everything we can to make our kids as happy as possible, we are a shitty parent. The opposite is true. When we coddle and handhold our children through every step of life, we are setting them up for failure. Our children need to grow up with a realistic view of the world. Everything will not always be handed to them. Everything will not always go their way. Some day, they will need to fight for what they want. And we need to give them the strength and confidence to be able to do that.

People often act like I am abusing my children when I make them clean up after themselves or keep trying something that is hard and frustrating. Or they will say, “Well, it’s just easier and takes less time if I just do it for them.” Sure it is, but you won’t be there to do it for them forever. Or at least I sure as hell hope I’m not! Children need to learn to do for themselves. To explore. To learn. To grow. And now is as good a time as any to start giving your child the power to change things. Even if it is something as simple as putting an empty wrapper in the trash.

What we need is balance. To raise children who know that we will be there for them whenever they fall, but that it is OK to try and fly. We need to give our children the opportunity to make decisions and do things on their own. Because right now we are raising a generation of children who won’t even be able to tie their own shoes when they go to their first job interview.

But we are awesome parents. And we can change that. We can empower our children. We can give them the chance to fall. But also the chance to dust themselves off and keep going. 


If you share this post, I will buy you a pony. I suck at Twitter. I am OK at Facebook. Pinterest is my bitch. I am also on Bloglovin' and Instagram.

Thursday, September 25, 2014

#startseeingyourselfie



I have noticed a growing trend lately. In a world filled with narcissistic selfies that promote perfection, those of us that are less-than-perfect are becoming invisible. That sucks. 

Just because we don’t work out 24-7, sport the latest trends and can’t afford $30 mascara, doesn’t mean we don’t exist. We can take pictures outside of the gym or the salon. We can snap a selfie when we don’t have any makeup on. And it doesn’t have to make us sport a goofy face.

Because our kids are going to want to look back and see that we were there with them. That we were young once. That we were present. And we are going to want to look back and know that we were part of our own lives. 

So I propose a challenge. Take a picture of yourself. No makeup. No goofy faces. No filter. Just you. Smiling. Post it to InstagramTwitter or Facebook. Tag me and add the hashtag #startseeingyourselfie. 

Then search the tag and compliment someone else who has been brave enough to take the challenge. Tell them they have beautiful eyes, great hair, healthy skin or dimples that make you smile. Tell them something positive. Help them see the beauty in themselves. I will add the pictures to a future post to show people how beautiful my readers are, inside and out. 

This isn’t a contest. I won’t crown someone the “most beautiful”. Because we are all beautiful. We are all winners. We just might need a little help from others to see it for ourselves. 


If you share this post, I will buy you a pony. I suck at Twitter. I am OK at Facebook. Pinterest is my bitch. I am also on Bloglovin' and Instagram.

Tuesday, September 16, 2014

29 Things Only a New Mother Would Understand

Ah, new motherhood. Now that the hard part is over, the really difficult part begins. Even though being a new mom is one of life’s greatest challenges, it’s also one of the most rewarding. Read on for a few things that only a new mother can understand.

1. The complete joy of a warm sitz bath.


2. Being so afraid to poop that you avoid the bathroom at all costs.


3. Having incredible boobs … that hurt so badly you’ll kill anyone who so much as brushes up against them.


4. That taking a shower is a luxury, not a necessity.


5. The isolation of being alone with a tiny, helpless human. All. Day. LONG.


6. Celebrating your new eau de parfum: slightly spoiled milk, cabbage, and A+D ointment.


7. The fear that every other mother in the world is doing a better job than you.


8. What a dairy cow feels like.


9. Loving your other half for giving you such an amazing gift.


10. Hating your other half for the way they eat/sleep/breathe.


11. What it feels like to have no shame about whipping out a boob in public.


12. Crying. All the time. For no reason.


13. The feeling of victory that fitting into your pre-pregnancy clothes awards you (no matter how much muffin is left on top).


14. Using the baby as a legitimate excuse to get out of absolutely anything.


15. Wearing granny panties that are made out of mesh and come up to your eyeballs.


16. Why you can no longer do jumping jacks. Ever again.


17. Watching a horror movie and sympathizing with the zombies.


18. Going so crazy with fatigue you find yourself mindlessly rocking a jug of milk to sleep at the grocery store.


19. That “mother’s intuition” is real. And it is powerful.


20. The pure joy that is a first glass of wine after nine LONG months of sobriety.


21. The joy/embarrassment that are Preparation H pads.


22. Being so in tune with someone that your body actually produces food for them on demand.


23. That whoever came up with the cutesy term “baby blues” had never actually suffered from postpartum depression.


24. Accidental shoplifting.


25. Leaking through your shirt during an important presentation at work.


26. Waking up in a cold sweat, convinced you rolled over on the baby — only to find them sleeping soundly in their crib.


27. That “sleep when the baby sleeps” is the stupidest phrase anyone has ever uttered.


28. Being proud of the fact that your stomach looks like it was attacked by a tiger.


29. The amazing feeling of being the one who created this unique human being.

image


This post was written by me and originally appeared on Healthline.

If you share this post, I will buy you a pony. I suck at Twitter. I am OK at Facebook. Pinterest is my bitch. I am also on Bloglovin' and Instagram.
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