Thursday, October 15, 2009

This blog post has an NC-17 rating in my opinion, you've been warned

"We are going to have a substitute today Mommy."

"Oh yeah? How come?"

"My teacher is going to the dentist. The substitute is pretty."

"Why is she pretty?'

"She has long blonde hair like baby girl."

Baby girl turned around to smile. So I asked her what she thought was pretty, to which she stated that Hello Kitty was pretty.

This idea of pretty or beauty has been on my mind quite a bit lately. I think it started because I am making an honest effort to beautify my appearance everyday. This involves things that I thought I had a knack for but clearly I do not. I still can't figure out eye make up for the life of me. How do you people keep this stuff on all day? I put on make up and, no lie, ten minutes later it is gone. I also am wondering about beauty and society and such, not for my own insecureness, but because of baby girl. I have seen two videos this week regarding this subject matter. One is from Dove and shows what is done to "make" someone beautiful. Hair, make up, then computer imaging. The other was from the strip pole world championships. Don't worry everyone was fully clothed and while I am not a frequenter of strip clubs I have seen this advertised as a way for the suburban mom crowd to get into shape. So I am adding stripper to the ongoing list of roles that are now put out by society for women. I am only guessing now, but based on what the internets and cable tells me, it seems as though I am to wear nothing but high heels and pearls while I cook gourmet meals and cookies all day, somehow go to work naked to please the glass ceiling with my happy hour cocktail in hand, stay at home to watch the kids while exercising with the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders, have fake nails, highlights, fake D cups, a brazilian, Botox, laser hair removal, lip plumpers, and wait for it... I was just informed this evening LVR. (Or to those of you not in the know a Laser Vaginal Rejuvenation.) I so wish I was lying, but I am not.


Since I am not one to watch Dr. 90210, The Doctors, Oprah (hey spellcheck doesn't know Oprah that's weird) and Dr. Oz I was not in the Vajayjay loop. I even have a OBGYN for a mom and STILL did not know that this was a, um, thing to do. Now granted, I am sure there are post-childbirth cases out there that may need surgical intervention (don't know for sure I have an abdominal scar from my birthing of people), however, this is being advertised as "Your Most Personal Makeover."

This little makeover is performed at your local vaginal rejuvenation center. Seriously people that's all I need my daughter feeling insecure about as a young woman, her butt, thighs, chest, but her labia??? Apparently this place can make that particular body part more symmetrical. Not to mention the 87% success rate for their g-spot amplification and "designer" vaginoplasty, not just your run of the mill vaginoplasty, but DESIGNER. What the hell is a vaginoplasty?

I am really at a loss here, honestly. I can't believe my daughter is going to come of age and all this nonsense will be beating her down. This ad was posted in local magazine it is full of laser centers, some anti aging hormonal nonsense, lose inches by laser, it goes on and on...all geared to women, not a single man in the before and after pictures. The other side of this ad was for your good old fashion family run local pumpkin patch it wasn't like I was hanging out with a Maxim or anything. I want my daughter to be a secure woman, not a plastic doll with no brain and full of ideas about how not even her girly parts are off limits to plastic surgery. I try to show her a good example even at her young age, that one must eat healthy, exercise, voice her opinions, we encourage education and hard work in our family. But I too am insecure about my looks despite what some may think, I really do care about how I look. I want her to feel proud of herself and feel the power of her body and not worried about trying to look like a porn star at 16, 25, 30, 45, or 60. I'm not Catholic but she may end up in a Convent. And I didn't see one single ad for the penile enlargement spa, I guess there is Viagra for that matter.

click on the picture to see all my snarky comments and gory details (not sure this works on FB feeder)

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

Is Ambien compatible with nursing?

You've all heard the saying if you don't have anything nice to say don't say anything at all. Well as you have noticed I have not said anything for a good month. Because, really, who wants to hear what has been running through my mind. Nothing pleasant, inspiring, happy, grateful, instead of lot of poor little me. It was getting obnoxious even to me. I really have not a whole lot to complain about, I am well provided for, got my dream house this year, finally went shopping, I am going to London, the husband is going to Kenya. But the poor old me just kept returning. I am well aware it is primarily due to lack of sleep.

My kids are on top of me needing something all day long. We entered some other dimension this year with the boy starting state mandated school. I am not in charge of the schedule. He has homework, books to read, egg cartons to fill with stuff, letters to write over and over. Then there is the football which is an entirely different blog. Big fat baby is working on some upper teeth and it must be pretty painful because he howls quite a lot. Baby girl has become one of the most stubborn people on planet Earth. She now just laughs at me when she is put in a time out. Or when I get mad at her and scream...yes I am now screaming. I feel like I deserve the best mommy in the world award.

And then night falls. And our nighttime routine begins. The baby goes down first. Then the big kids get baths, jammies, stories, teeth brushing. Then we say prayers, usually multiple times because everyone wants everyone in THEIR room while prayers are said. (Then I feel guilty because I am annoyed at the whole praying thing.) The boy goes to bed. Baby girl becomes more demanding than Mariah Carey! I want water. There is a booger on my finger. Will you sleep in here all night? How about a little bit? Hold my hand (with the booger now smeared). Leave my light on! So the husband runs off to do whatever (until last night it was to watch baseball) and I sit with baby girl and hold her hand until she falls asleep. Because she will scream and scream chasing me around the house demanding all sorts of heinous things like food and water if I don't. Finally she gets to sleep....and big fat baby wakes up and wants food. So I feed him. After he is down again I make a mad rush to pick up the house because if I wake up to a mess I go nuclear, I'm not even kidding. Then I get ready for bed and lay down. Husband wanders in and turns on t.v. to watch the weather babe and Conan (even though he was watching t.v. downstairs, yes ladies men are strange creatures). I let out a large exasperated sigh put the pillow over my head and fall asleep. For an hour and then I am awoken to find baby girl fussing in my face once again about the booger. I turn off Conan because the husband is now snoring. I take baby girl back to bed screaming. Lay down in her bed to get her to sleep. Then big fat baby wakes up. He's not really hunger he just thinks he is, but his teeth actually hurt so I give him Tylenol, which I realize I should have done way earlier. Then I put him down. He get back up 20 minutes later. We do this dance for about an hour and a half. Then baby girl decides that she will sleep with mommy and daddy and brings all her own bedding. Last night we had added fun because the the boy who usually sleeps through everything was up as well. His legs hurts, his knee hurts, I'm going to sleep with you. Then at 5:45 am big fat baby wakes up and the boy declares that oops I wet your bed mom and baby girl starts fussing because she was woken up from her beauty sleep. Sometimes the dog and the cat want their needs met in the middle of then night as well. It never ends. All of this makes me very tired and look like shit. I try my best but lately it just doesn't even matter. I have little patience and am over caffeinated. Plus I am working on a very serious conundrum: is it better to have an audience of three while going to the bathroom or to deal with the chaos that occurs if I shut the door?

Then some nights (about once every two weeks) everyone sleeps and all is well in my little world. This is why I never write anymore I am tired, and I live with the fear that it will all be taken away from me and my problems really aren't even problems because if someone is going to keep me up for nights on end I am happy it is my family. Simply because they are mine.

(I typed this in 15 minutes and was only sat on once and yelled for twice...it may be a good day.)