Your Kid's Allergies are NOT my Problem

Tuesday, March 31, 2015

Get ready to hate me moms...
Okay, here it goes.....

Stop making your kid’s allergies – everyone else’s problem.

The world doesn’t need to revolve around you and your kid’s allergies.

Phwew.  That felt good to get out.

Let me guess...You think I’m a jerk?  I’m insensitive?  I’m a dick.

We’ll you’re being an ass.  An over-the top allergy asshole.

I understand awareness.  Having awareness (a big buzzword these days) is key.

Of course.  I get it.  To an extent.

But parents who demand nut-free, dairy-free, fruit-free, fish-free, gluten-free, soy-free, flower-free, animal-free, dust-free….FUCK your I NEED TO BE FREE FROM EVERY FOOD EVER MADE list. 

How about you teach your kid what to not eat, or what to stay away from?  Or how about you pack them every meal they’ll need while not in your presence?

Now, you think I’m a total bitch.

When I was a kid (oh yes, a good ‘ol back in the day story for you – but I swear it has a relevance)…. I went to a babysitter after school.  This babysitter – babysat like 20 kids at once.  She always served us a snack when we arrived after school.  It was usually PB & J.  But, sometimes it wasn’t.  Either way, when a kid wasn’t supposed to eat what she was serving – that kid would FUCKING TELL HER.  The kid knew what was okay to eat, and what wasn’t okay to eat.  And, because she was a normal babysitter – not some kid killing babysitter using allergies as a lethal weapon – she would serve the child with the allergy – a different food item.

Informing the teacher and appropriate school staff about your child’s allergies and allergy action plan is essential.  Informing care takers is necessary.  But going a step further, and requesting that all parents of kids in the class only bring in nut-free and food “not processed in a facility with nuts” – is just plain unreasonable. 

I beg of you - teach your child how to handle their own allergies.  Empower them.  Let them have the ability to save their own life.  To prevent their own sickness.

I know you're scared.  I’m scared every day my kid is going to have an asthma attack when I’m not around.  As if, I’m the only person qualified to handle her asthma attack.  I’m not.  I have to believe and trust that the people around her are informed of my action plan.  But, my kid is reminded on a very regular basis the protocol for a possible asthma attack.  SHE knows what to do.  And that makes me feel the most comfortable and have the most faith.

Too many kids with allergies are being sheltered by their parents trying to control their child’s environment.  Guess what?  The environments and situations we’re in every day are variable.  Dear parents with allergies, why are some of you trying to control other parents, and make policies that restrict everyone else – when you could just as easily teach your kid what not to eat?  Or, teach them, that if they’re unsure about a particular food item – don’t eat it.  Parents aren’t giving their kids enough credit.  Enough knowledge.  Enough practice with their potential problem.

I attended a kindergarten orientation for my daughter recently.  It’s a public school in Atlanta. When we got to the point in the presentation about school lunches and the cafeteria – several parents started huffing and puffing.  Raising their hands  - and acting a damn fool.  The orientation coordinator tried to answer all of the food concerns the best she could.  But, she got hit from every direction.  The questions  came like rapid fire bullets. 

“Is the cafeteria nut free?”


“Are the classrooms nut free?”


“Well, my son has a lot of allergies – how will I know that the food being given to him will be okay for him?”

“Ummmm, if you’re that concerned ma’am, I assume you’ll pack his lunch.”

DUUUUUUUhhhhhhhhh.  If your kid has a lot of food allergies – YOU, the PARENT, needs to help them pack their lunch and snacks with the appropriate foods.  How is that the school cafeteria’s problem?  Or responsibility?  Or my issue?  Or my child’s issue?  Your child’s dietary restrictions are your responsibility and your child’s responsibility.

If your kid is really sensitive to allergens – and could go into anaphylactic shock, all the more reason for a parent to arm their child with the knowledge of an allergy action plan.  Get them involved.  Practice possible scenarios.  You practice fire safety with your kid, right?  Same thing!  

If you have an extremely sensitive child that means, you the parent, DO INDEED need to pack every single meal and snack for your child when they attend school, birthday parties, sports functions, etc.  But, parents with allergic kids (of the less severe variety) – please don’t expect the whole school, the whole class, or a whole birthday party to cater to your child’s dietary needs.

I was allergic to cats since I was kid – guess what I didn’t do?  I didn’t go over people’s houses that had cats.  Or pet them.  And if I wasn’t sure if there was going to be a cat present in a home – I brought some Benadryl and an albuterol inhaler.  I knew how many puffs to take.  I knew how many pills to take.

I’m severely allergic to cats.  I’ve been hospitalized as a child and an adult for an allergic, asthmatic reaction to a cat.  It sucks.  It’s scary.  For gawd sakes – it’s really hard to breath.  But, I’ve been armed with the knowledge of my allergy and an action plan since I WAS A CHILD.

It’s not my problem that a kid in my daughter’s class has this allergy, or that allergy.  It’s not my concern.  Unless that child is in my care, or in my house, I don’t need you sending me an email about your kid’s allergies.  Please don’t request that I only pack nut-free items in MY kid’s lunch.  I pay for this food.  I’m free to pack my kid whatever I want.  

Most allergies, are not life-threatening.  Most.  If your kid immediately goes into anaphylactic shock upon breathing in air that has peanut protein particles – that’s pretty extreme.  That might mean a whole life-over-haul for you and your child.  It sucks.  It's unfair.  There's probably not a whole lot of public support or funding to build a school that is completely allergen free.  Not a single particle, atom, molecule of an allergen.  It probably sounds like a dream school for parents dealing with a severely allergic child.  But, thus far, it's not a reality.  I wish it was an option for these folks dealing with severe and scary allergies.  I wish there were whole restaurants for these folks!  But thus far, progress is slow.  People with severe allergies have to learn how to safely navigate life outside of their homes.  

My own kids have dealt with milk allergies, animal allergies, airborne allergies, fabric allergies, soap allergies, lotion allergies, sunscreen allergies, ear piercing allergies and asthma.  I get it mamas.  

I get the struggle. It’s real.  But, do us all a favor, make it a real issue with your child, your child's doctor, your child's teacher, the school nurse, etc.  Not me.  And just in case you think I haven't done my research - I have.

PS parents - it never suggests anywhere on the site - to email the parents of all of the children in your child's class. Just sayin'.

Now that you all really hate my guts - comment below.  

Or write me your thoughts on Facebook or Twitter.

Spring Break Survival Guide - What to do with your kids that doesn't involve playdates with annoying parents.

Thursday, March 26, 2015

So you're not hopping out of town for Spring Break with the kids.  No beach vacay?  No national park trip? No Caribbean?

Hopefully, you were smart enough to sign your kids up for spring break camps.  Please, tell me you signed them up for spring break camps.....

Wait, no.  You didn't.  Shit.  Things slip my mind everyday too - like forgetting to eat, pee and brush my teeth.  I totally get it.

Or maybe you're cash strapped?  Solidarity sister. Those fucking camps can get expensive.  $300 for science/tech camp.  $120 for princess dance camp.  $60 for art camp.  That shit adds up.

What do you do when you have no family around to help?  No dollar bills for the beach?  No cash for the kiddie camps?  No babysitter in sight?

You drink.

So first item on your Spring Break Sucks TO DO list is:

- Pick up a handle of vodka (or alcohol of choice).

Phwew! First thing - crossed off.

Now that your preliminary prep work is out of the way - I got you covered for the rest of your "staycation."

Side note - Whoever thought of the word "staycation" is a fucking asshole.  Staying home is NOT a vacation.  It's just a better word for a week long trip down insanity lane.

15 Things to do on Spring break if you're not going anywhere - and you don't want to commit to playdates with parents (and children) that make you feel kinda stabby.

1. Find cardboard boxes.  Buy a few from Lowes for a buck a piece, or ask your local grocery store or Wal-Mart for used boxes.  Kids can do all types of things with boxes.  They can make a lemonade stand,  A little house.  A town for Legos.  A chic beaded handbag. Rrrrrrr what did I just say? Yup, a handbag.  Believe me -    Here's some inspiration for you.  I don't think most of those cardboard box Pinterest projects are actually doable.  But, they're motivating.  You can do your own broke down, D-I- Don't version of them at home.

If you have a baby or toddler - just plop boxes all around the room.  No further action required. Babies love boxes.  AS IS.

2. Borrow FREE passes to local attractions through your local library.  Taking the kids to the zoo these days  - is a straight up bank account buster.  I think I paid $40 last time I took my kids - and that was WITH coupons.  But, check with your local library - they usually have free passes you can borrow to visit local kid museums, nature centers, aquariums, the zoo, etc.

3. Go to the gym!  A lot.  If you have a gym membership that also offers childcare as part of your membership - now's the time to maximize your membership.  Drop the kids off to exercise - or do what I do.  Drop the kids off, and read gossip magazines in the sauna.  Either way, this is 1-2 hours of NO KIDS.

4. Bake cookies or cupcakes from a box - then bring them to someone to cheer them up.  Or eat them.  All of them.  All week.  I love baking from a box with little ones because it's minimal involvement.  There's little mess (okay, relatively little mess) - and you can extend the whole process by decorating the baked masterpieces.  It eats up an hour of your day at least.

5. TVs and tablets.  Screen time, schmeen time.  Have the "experts" who claim screen time is bad for children - ever had to actually entertain children for a week straight?  I think not.

6. McDonald's.  The one with a play area maze-y thingy.  Yes, it's gross food.  I don't even wanna know what's in those mystery meat chicken nuggets.  And yes, that play area is probably caked with germs and fecal matter.  But, you probably never take your kid there.  It's fiiiinnnneeeee for a day.  My mom fed us McDonald's frequently - and we turned out okay.......I think.  Just do me a favor, bathe your kids when you get home alright?

7. Go to the local park.  I guarantee there will be other sad schmucks there too - who didn't plan anything for spring break.  Voila! Instant entertainment for your kids.  And bring a book, magazine or newspaper for yourself.  Catch up on current events.  Catch up on Fifty Shades.  No judgement.  Better yet, bring ear buds too.  Listen to a podcast, or some music.

Are you drinking yet???  You should be.  Oh yes, yes, for my sober sistas - if you don't drink please meditate...or prraaaayyyyyy.

8. Make sandwiches for the homeless.  A lot of churches or homeless shelters welcome sandwiches.  And sandwiches are easy for kids to make.  Form an assembly line in your kitchen.  Ham, turkey, cheese, or peanut butter and jelly.  Don't add condiments - they make the sandwiches mushy.  And most homeless shelters will tell you to hold the mayo and mustard anyways.  If you don't want to go to a homeless shelter - you can simply set up shop in an area of town where a lot of homeless people congregate.  Encourage your kids to talk to the homeless- THEY ARE PEOPLE TOO.  It will be a feel good activity for all.

9. Spring Cleaning - CHECK! Put your kids to work.  Chores.  YES, chores.  Make a list.  Assign names.  Get it done.  Blast some kidz bop music or Justin Beiber - your kids will get it done.  Did you know toddlers are uniquely qualified to clean baseboards?  Yes!  I wouldn't tease a mama.  A toddler's short stature and proximity to the ground - makes them excellent baseboard cleaners.  Also - use this time to discard old toys, broken crayons and puzzles that are missing pieces. (important note - smuggle the broken crayons out of the house like a drug lord.  If caught by a kid, a meltdown could ensue.)

10. Buy a painter's drop cloth from Lowes or Home Depot - give the kids some paint - and let them go at it in the yard.  Let them splatter the paint.  Throw the paint.  Put handprints on the canvas.  WHATEVER.   The freer you let them be, the less hassle for you.  All you have to do is hose them off before they come into the house.  If you don't have a yard - any greenspace will do.  Or do some chalk on sidewalks.  That's right.  Kick it old school with hopscotch.  Or challenge your kids to do a chalk drawing contest.  Or jump rump!  You remember those?  They're like $1 at Wal-Mart.

11. Visit a pet shop.  Instant zoo.  Just don't let your kids talk you into going home with a "zoo" animal.

12. Collect flowers.  Collect bugs.  In old tupperware or jars, or zip lock bags.  Don't forget to poke holes. I don't know what you do with your nature-findings after the collecting part is over- but kids like collecting shit.  That's all I know.

13. Storytime.  There must be one at your local library.  The librarian will also add music (and sometimes crafts!!) for little ones.  It's worth some research if you have little ones.  And there's no rule that says you can't attend every storytime within a 20 mile radius from your home.

14. Don't skimp on "Quiet Time" or naptime.  Everyone needs one hour at least of down time, sleeping time, or "quiet time" during the day.  Make it happen.  Quiet time activities include: coloring, reading, puzzles, etc.  All done QUIETLY.  AND ALONE.

15. Oh fuck, put a mayday call out for one pitiful playdate.  Let's not get too crazy.  I said one lousy playdate.  By, DAY 5 of said Spring Break - a playdate is lookin' reeeeaalllll good.  Even if it's with the mom that judges you and tells you everything you're doing is wrong (who also has kids that are bad behaved, asshole monster, snot bags).  Yeah, call her.  Just don't have her over your house.

Ohhh, and if this list runs out.  Rinse and repeat.  I hope you're drunk now.  Or at least loving your Spring Break, No Break buzz.

What do you do to keep your kids entertained for hours on end?  We're in this together mamas! Share your tips in the comment section.  Or share them on the Missguided Mama Facebook page or TWEET me!

Stand with Me

Tuesday, March 24, 2015

The cool spring air, blew through my bedroom window. The sun rays streamed in, glowing through the window slats, and poured onto the white bed.  Birds were singing.  The kids were still asleep.

I'm pretty sure I'm experiencing Mom Nirvana. Minus a coffee, or a spa, or being on an international retreat.  But, you know these days - it's the little things mamas, amiright?

Nothing is better than a sunny spring Sunday, with a slight cool breeze.  Our family doesn't go to church like most of the southern folk we live around.  So it's really quiet in our neighborhood on Sundays.

We usually make a huge breakfast and bump old 90's rock tunes on Sunday mornings.  But, this Sunday I was determined to explore, get out into nature and share it with my kids.

It was my idea to visit a local mountain.  It's called Stone Mountain in Georgia.  I heard about the beautiful hiking trails through a friend on Facebook (naturally - where else do you hear about anything these days?)

She posted great pictures of her young daughter climbing.  It looked totally doable for my five and three-year old.  It looked totally doable for me.  I hate heights.  I hate flying in planes.  I hate being in tall buildings.  Skyrise patios. If I get a hotel room at a massive hotel – I want to be no higher than 15 floors up.  I hate being up high.  But this mountain, I can do.

We dressed in our hiking best.  Aka…exercise clothes cuz that’s all we got.

I packed some Nutella sandwiches (because all things lead back to Nutella), fruit and waters and we piled into the car.  My kids were excited - which made me excited.

We arrived at the entrance – there were brochures boasting this experience, and that experience and different ticket packages being offered at every inflated price point imaginable.

Apparently, Stone Mountain is a souped up state park.

I turned to my husband, "Listen, we're here for the mountain.  Not for the rides and the cotton candy and the Dippin' Dots.  We're here for the naturey-hikey trail thing I saw on Facebook.  Where the fuck is it on this map? Ugh, I can't read a fuckin' map.  You drive and read it. I can't."

The mountain was simply the backdrop to this state park production.  Rolling, paved trails lined the main roads throughout the park.  There were small lakes to fish in, picnic tables, charcoal grills, and some historical buildings.  Just the type of park to take the family for a day of nature and relaxation.  But, it also had a full-fledged theme park and attractions.  Just the type of day for tourists in the Atlanta area.  If the Niagra Falls state park is on steroids, than this park is on Creatine.

After a bit of a detour through narrow and tree-lined roads (thanks to my fabulous sense of fucked up direction)…AKA we got lost.  We found the correct parking lot for the mountain hiking trails. We had the kids pee before we made our climb. The kids did some yoga stretches before they got onto the mountain.  Which was cute and slightly mortifying at the same time.  I mean, my three and five-year old girls are displaying downward facing dog in front of the public restrooms.  

Like we’re some sort of yogi, new age, juicing, crunchy parents or something.  We kinda are.  We shop at Whole Foods after all.

After a good stretch, and possible OoooooOOOOOOOOooommmmmmmssss, my kids were ready to climb.

Stone Mountain, is in fact stoney.  I mean, I've never climbed a mountain before.  So I don’t have much to compare it to.  I've hiked a bit.  But the mountain had Stone Age terrain.  The mountain is a pale, tan color.  It has lots of divits with little pools of water – and large boulders.  Boulders, that at any moment, look like they could come tumbling down to knock you down like a bowling pin. 

The first 500 feet, went by in a breeze.  The air was fresh, and the adrenaline was full speed ahead.  We were getting’ high off of climbin’ high (that should be in a Snoop Doggy Dog rap or something).  Anyways, the kids are climbing, skipping and jumping up the rocks.  To which I reminded them more than once – to stop hopping from one boulder to the next, “You’re going to crack your head open.”

I stayed behind my three-year old as she used her mighty, meaty legs to climb.  She has amazing thighs.  Nice chunky ones.  Unlike her sister – who has sticks for legs.

Roots from trees stuck out – tempting to trip us.  Large beige rocks stood defiantly as obstacles.  The incline, getting steeper.


It felt like I was afraid for my child the whole time.  I didn’t want her to fall and hit her head.  I didn’t want her to fall and tumble down a ways.  I didn’t want her to twist her ankle.  But, my three-year old climbed this mountain like she had done it a hundred times.  Like she had enough energy for two mountains. 

We reached 1,000 feet or so.  The views were gorgeous.  You could see the whole city of Atlanta from 1,000 feet. 

It was a good stopping point.  I took in several gulps of the fresh, crisp mountain air.  I could see 15 miles out from the mountain.  I shamelessly took pictures with the kids.  Okay, okay selfies.

I looked up – and realized we had a little more to go.  I look back out to the horizon.  We’re really high.
Nausea starts to set in.  I get gurgles in my throat.  I feel a little dizzy.
Just deep breaths, yoga breaths iiiiiinnnnn annnddddd ouuuuuuuutttt.
And you wonder where my kids get the yoga from?
I’m telling myself to remain calm.
I suggest we all take a lunch break under a tree and look at the views.
We drink our water, eat our food and talk about the beautiful day.

But, I’m dizzied.  Physically dizzied.  How the hell am I going to climb to the top? 

After we eat, I tell my husband and five-year old to go ahead without me and the younger one.  My older daughter was so excited to make it to the top.  I couldn’t deny her. 

The little one was feeling hesitant.  Or tired?  I’m not sure which one.  Maybe both.  Maybe she could feel what I was feeling.

My husband and older daughter went ahead.  I was looking at them the whole time.  Climbing.  Please stay behind her, please stay behind her. Don’t let her fall. Don’t let her go near the edge.

Little one seems content to lie on a rock for a bit and soak up the shade.  We sit and chat for a bit.

Suddenly, just as my husband and older daughter are going out of sight, little one says she’d like to go to the top.

I don’t want to discourage her bravery.  So, I say, “Okay, let’s go.  But you don’t have to.  And if you need to stop and take a break, just let mommy know.”

She climbs, then gets distracted by some big cool rocks that she wants to knock over.  And she stops.  Little one needs a break and wants to sit.

I am hoping that she wants to just stay here the whole time.

Within 20 seconds, she’s ready again.

“I wanna go up and see Daddy and sissy.”

Ahhhwwwww heeeellllll.

“Okay, we’ll go higher, but if you need a break, tell mommy.”

We climb about 10 more steps.

Little one stops.  And seems unsure.  She sits down.  I sit with her.

I tell her, “You know it’s okay if you don’t want to go up.  We can see Daddy and sissy in a little while, when they come back down.”

As if she senses that I said those words more for my own comfort, than hers, she replies, “No, it’s okay mommy, we can do it.  We can go to the top of the mountain.”
I look up.  I get dizzier. 

Dear gawd woman -get it the fuck together.  Don’t look back down.  You’ll effing puke or pass out right on the side of this thing.

I take her by the hand, and we go up.  At this point it’s pretty steep so I have to hold her hand to help push her.

It was thirty or so steps to the top.  And we were up.  A flat, rocky, top of a mountain.  I felt like I was standing on dinosaur land.  Desert-ish.  Dry.  Even some of the huge craters looked like giant T-rex foot prints.  Great, I'm in the freakin' Land Before Time and it's freaking me out!!

  I stood in the middle.  I didn’t want to get close to the edge like the other people taking selfies.  I just looked for my husband.  I kept looking.  I couldn’t look at the view, it would made me sick.  I get sick writing about it right now.  I just kept an eye on my kid, and another eye out for my husband.  A minute passes – and I start to panic.  I’m thinking the worst.  If my kid fell off this mountain, would anybody know?  Would they notice?  Wouldn’t someone be screaming?  Wouldn’t my husband be screaming?  I would never forgive him.  Where are they?! They better not be close to an edge.

Out of the “Stone Mountain Summit Shop” (cheesy gift shop on top of a mountain?) – runs my daughter towards us.  There is my husband.


My older daughter is so happy that we made it up – that she’s shouting.  She’s jumping.  She’s hugging her sister.  They’re acting like a reunion of long lost buddies.


My husband looks genuinely shocked to see me.  He knows, I don’t do heights.  The kids are ecstatic.  They’re playing and jumping all over.  They’re letting their imaginations immediately run wild.  And their legs.

I scream with panic, “Stay close to us!”  I am clearly, freaking the fuck out.

My husband says, calmly, “Mommy is freaking out. She doesn’t like being up high.  Just stay close to her so she doesn’t get scared.”

I sit down.  They sit down next to me.  And that’s when I take in the view.  I have to sit to soak it in.  It’s too dizzying to stand up.  When I feel grounded in my surroundings,  I stand.  

And then I ask my daughters to stand with me.

To The Mom Who Brought Her Kids to the Hair Salon

Thursday, March 19, 2015

Dear mom who brought her kids to the hair salon,

I see you with your blonde hi-lites, talking to the hair stylist in the big mirror.  You've got some root showing.  So it's probably time for a re-touch.  You're explaining to your colorist what you want.  You're running your fingers through your hair, pointing out certain areas on the sides of your head.  No doubt, the grey has started to come in.  You're telling your stylist what you think might look good, what you saw in a magazine (that you forgot to bring cuz you have a bazillion things on your to-do list today).  You're telling her what you think will make you feel beautiful again.  You don't want to look in your bathroom mirror anymore, lift up a section of hair, and proclaim "Ugggggckkkk" to the face in the mirror.

Your two kids are with you.  Maybe one is toddler age.  The other one a bit older, maybe 7 or 8-years old.  They're sitting next to you in two swively, salon leather chairs.  They've just realized, that the chairs swivel.  They're spinning and turning, all while you're trying to get a thought out to your stylist.  You're giving them the side eye, while you try to stay focused.  You are so desperately trying to have eye contact with your stylist.  But, it's hard.

Once the color is decided on, your stylist leaves you to mix up the color.

You turn to your girls, probably telling them to not spin on the chair (because they abruptly stop).  And you hand the little one a coloring book, and the older one her tablet.  This settles them a bit.  The constant movement stops.

It's 7:00PM.  Past dinnertime I imagine.  And getting close to the ritualistic bedtime routine.  My husband is probably helping my own kids into the bath right now. Thank fucking gggaawwddd.

I'm getting my hair washed.  Watching you.  You catch me looking at you.  I flash a smile, so you know, I get it.  Can you see the scarlet "M" on my chest?  I'm one of you!  I'm a mom!! I hope you know I'm not judging you - even though it looks like I am.  It's exactly the opposite.  I'm admiring you.  I'm thinking you're great.  And brave.

You probably suffered through enough snarky, judgey eyes the minute you walked into those salon doors with your two kids in tow.  I bet other moms in here are thinking how dare she bring in her kids to mess up my salon experience! I'm tryyyiiinnnggg to relax.

Fuck 'em.  You know what's not relaxing?  Listening to someone else's cell phone conversation while you're getting pampered.  Thaaaattt's fucking annoying.

It's probably not your dream, to get your hair done, with your kids.  Maybe you didn't have any other time to do it?  Maybe you couldn't line up childcare? Maybe the babysitter cancelled last minute?  Maybe you're a single mom?  Maybe you don't give a fuck, and think it's perfectly okay to bring your kids with you to get your hair colored?

Whatever it is - I get it.  Why should you skip getting your hair done, by a high-end salon, just because you have children in tow?   You shouldn't.  I don't even think I would've cared if you're kids were running all over the salon.  I can block out obnoxious kids.  It's my super talent at home with my own kids.  Kids are antsy.  Babies cry.  If a fellow patron doesn't like it- they should start going to a salon that has a NO KID policy.  Or to a spa - where you get individual rooms.

In the past, I've cancelled hair appointments because my husband was running late from work - not being able to relieve me of children.  It was awful.  I screwed myself with ugly hair.  And I screwed the stylist by cancelling.  I should've just giddy-upped and brought my kids with me.  No shame in my mom game.

So, mom who brought her kid in the hair salon.  You've inspired me.  Next time, I really need a hair cut to feel human again.  Or hair color before a big meeting.  Or a wax before a nice vacation.  Next time I feel I can't lean on anyone else to help me out with my kids.  I'm bringin' them.


The mom that was staring at you.

PS - let's start a salon that has a childcare room.

I need to hear your thoughts mamas AND childfree women!  Should moms bring their kids to hair salons and nail salons?  Do you think it's okay?  Do you despise moms that do this?

Comment below or tell me on my Facebook page, or TWEET me.

15 Things New Moms and March Madness Basketball Players Have in Common

Tuesday, March 17, 2015

Motherhood is a lot like March Madness.  Here's what March Madness basketball players have in common with new moms.

1. Everyone's cheering you on - but you don't know if you can do it.

2. You're really tired from bein' in the game so much.  Your body really hurts.  But, mental state is all you got.  And after awhile - that starts to wane.

3. A lot of gear is required anytime you leave the house.

4.  There's a Sweet Sixteen in your future.

5. Extreme sleep deprivation.  You're tired, but you have so much adrenaline that you can't sleep.

6. You gotta deal with haters everyday (sportscasters, opposing team fans, know-it-all people, your own mother, your mother-in-law, other judgey moms).

7. You sweat, a lot.

8. You have to eat well to keep your energy level up.

9. The camera is in your face a lot.  Photos snapped, videos recorded constantly to capture every single moment.

10. You really want to sit in a sauna or an ice bath.

11. You're always lookin' at the clock. To the second.

12. You pray no one gets hurt.

13. Sometimes you just want to sit on the bench.

14. You wear basketball shorts and a jersey a lot- because that's all that's clean.

15. You really want to win.

How else is new momhood like March Madness?

Comment below or tell me on my Facebook page, or TWEET me.

Why Every Kid Should go to a Gyno Appointment with their Mom

Wednesday, March 11, 2015

Going to the gynecologist is a really great thing to do with the whole family.  It's almost like a field trip!

Besides, it's the only doctor I really see anymore since having kids.  I don't have time to be sick.  And I really don't have time to be going to the doctor.

I mean, we all know doctors are really good at keeping their appointment times.  There's hardly any waiting. EVER.

The gynecologist is a necessity for all women, especially moi. We gotta make sure things are still workin' down there after two years of pregnancy and childbirth.  I am like humpty-dumpty - everyone's trying to figure out how to put me back together again.

Here's what it sounds like in my appointment.

Doctor: "Are you in pain?"

Me: "Everywhere."

Doctor: "How often?

Me: "Every day."

Doctor: "Are you urinating normally?"

Me: "Ummm,, well, I pee accidentally when I do jumping jacks, or mid-sneeze.  But, when I go to sit on the toilet - thinking I have to pee - well, nothing happens."

Doctor: "Mmmhmm, mhhmmm totally normal for mothers.  Are you having bowel movements?"

Me: "I'm pretty sure I am, but I'm currently recording how many times a day my kid takes a shit - because that's apparently, paramount to parenting.  So yes, I think bowels are moving."

Anyhoo - gyno appointments will happen at least every year - if not more.  And if you're like most women, it's more because there are about a thousand things that can go wrong in your vagina.  And when shit ain't right in your vag, your life is thrown off course.  #vagproblems are the worst.

I always try to schedule the appointments for days and times that my children are in school.  But, it's a mystery to me - that those scheduled appointments never actually happen.  Usually, about a week before my scheduled appointment, a receptionist from the gyno office will call and say they need to re-schedule me.  The only days/times that are now available - are all while my children are NOT in school.

This is her, "How's Monday at 3PM sound?  Or Thursday at 4PM?  Or, we could make you the first appointment of the day at 7:30AM?"

Me, "Mmkkkayyy lady, do you know what 7:30AM looks like for me?  It looks impossible.  I'll take the freakin' Monday at 3PM."

Receptionist, "Okay great! We've got you down, make sure you come 15 minutes early to check in and give a pee sample."

Me: *Hangs up phone and thinks to self, OMG, fuck off lady, I'm not coming in 15 minutes early, so I can sit in your waiting room, with my pain in the ass kids, for 15 minutes longer.  Get some fucking legos or somethin', then we'll talk early arrival times.

We all arrive at the appointment.  ON TIME.  Our backpacks are filled with toys.  My purse is packed with snacks.  We sit down in the waiting room.  It's me, the kids, the old lady in front of me and the TV that is looping some medical advertisement.

3-year old: "I want a snnnaaackkkkkkk."

5-Year Old: "Me tooooooooo."

Me: "Hi, we've been here for 5 seconds, and you're asking for snacks.  Ugh, fine, but don't ask me for another one while we're here, cuz I ain't got one."

20 minutes later, still in waiting room.

3-Year Old: "I'm boooooorrrrreeddd."

5-Year Old: "Me toooooooooo."

Me: "Holy fuck, you brought toys, play with them."

5-Year Old: "We already played with them in the car, we're sick of them. I want something else."

Me: "Not my problem -  I already toooollllddd you to not do that.  Here, read this magazine, Katy Perry's on the cover."

I am now sweating with rage.  My jaw is clamped.  I'm glaring at the receptionist.  How dare this motherfuckin' doctor make me wait out here with my damn kids?! They oughta serve wine.  Get us drunk before the appointment.  The experience is such an unpleasant one to begin with.  Yes, note to self - write about drunk gyno appointments. Or shit - they oughta serve coffee.  Or at least put on some bullshit daytime talk show.  OMG, Fuck My LIFE!

10 minutes later, the nurse comes out to get us.

I have to get on the scale.  It's like adding insult to injury.  Fuck.

We go into "THE ROOM."

The nurse comments about how cute my kids are.  I passive-aggressively remind her that they get really monstrous when they get bored or impatient.

Nurse, "Oh I bet."

Oh no bitch, you have no idea about the hell that will be raised if I have to wait another g.d. minute.

Nurse, "The doctor will be right in." Closes door.

Suuuuuuuurrrrrrre they will..........

Me and my kids are now in a 4 X 4 holding cell with a bed, a chair, some lube and latex gloves.  There is not a window.  We're all freaking out.  They start looking around.  I can already feel the impromptu anatomy lesson creep up on me.

5-Year Old: "What's that?"

Me: "It's a picture of a woo-hoo. Um, er vagina."

5-Year Old: "Mine doesn't look like that!"

3-Year Old: "Eeeeewwwwwwwwww."

Me: "But it does inside."

5-Year Old: " What's the circle at the top?"

Me: "Ovaries, they hold all of the woman's eggs."

5-Year Old: "We have eggs inside our bodies?"

3-Year Old: "Bbbawwwkkk, bawk, bawk, bawk, BAAAAAAWWWWKKKK.. like a chicken."

Me: "Yes we have eggs - the eggs turn into babies."

5-Year Old: "But, hooowwwwww do the eggs turn into babies?"

Me: "Holy fuck, so many questions.  They just do.  They get something that turns the eggs into babies, and they grow in the mommy's belly."

5-Year Old: "I'm never having babies, just dogs."

Me: "Super, fabulous."

3-year old: "Me tooooooo."

More "why's" and "what's that" ensues.  For like, 30 more minutes.   I am forced to give an anatomy lesson, a biology hypothesis and a medical dissertation on the spot. To KIDS.

The doctor sachets in.

Doctor: "I hope you haven't been waiting too long.  Sorry to keep you waiting."

Oh wait, I'm supposed to give you the obligatory response now......

Me: "No problem."

I slightly want to gouge your eyes out with the speculum, but whatevsss, let's DO THIS.

The doctor instructs me to scoot my butt down all the way to the bottom of the table, and put my legs in the stirrups.  At which point, my kids are getting a full frontal.  They look entralled and slightly disturbed at the same time. Like they're watching a scary movie.

The doctor is inside me with the speculum.

3-Year Old: "Why are your pants off mommy?"

Me: "Umm, the doctor has to check things in mommy's belly."

I am tense head to toe, I have one eye winked closed - because I'm wincing from the acute pain that this metal object is causing in between my legs.

5-Year Old: "But, THAAATT'S not your belly, it's your woo-hoo."

Me: "Right, it's hard to explain, but the doctor has to go in there, to look at things in the belly.  Just play with your toys or something."

Why are they staring at me????!! OMG, stop staaarrring!! Okay, they are still staring.  They are fucking staaaaarring at my wide open vagina - and now they're seeing this male doctor put his hand in there.  They're traumatized.  I know it. I know it!!  Get this overrrrrrrrr!!

Finally, we are free to go home.

And this is why every kid should go to the gynecologist with their mother.

What's your favorite part about bringing your kid to a gyno appointment?  Comment below.

Or tell me on my Facebook page, or TWEET me.

Kiddie Birthday Gift Registries. 5 Reasons to get over it.

Monday, March 9, 2015

Parents are taking on the trend of registering for their kids' birthday gifts.  If you haven't heard about this trend yet, here's a good article from the New York Post, "Registries for kids' parties are a thing now."  And of course, kiddie gift registries have been met with controversy.  Some calling our kids "over-indulgent" and "entitled".  Parents against the registries are calling the trend presumptuous, rude and tacky.  Other parents are hailing it as convenient and hassle-free.

Hello? We are a society of crazy consumerism? Amiright? It's out of control.  So why would this be any different?

All I'm sayin' is if our society throws moms-to-be baby showers, and we do it for engagement parties, and we register for weddings - how is a kid's birthday party any different?  And may I point out, just because you have a registry - that doesn't mean everyone will use it.  I can't tell you how many gifts I received  at my baby shower - that weren't on my registry.  Ahem, lots of blankets.  Ahem, five-million fucking bibs.

So just because you have a registry - doesn't mean people have to use it.  It's a choice.

Frankly, a kiddie birthday registry is the same as a damn Christmas list.  I can't count how many phone calls and e-mails I get from friends and families around the holidays asking me what my kids want.  Do they like Barbies? Do they like crafts? What about this? What about that?

Holy shit, peeps. I ain't got time for all this.

The same family and friends call me with the SAME questions around birthdays. So why not just make it easier and do a gift registry?

Honestly, I don't think it's that big of a deal.  I think it's fucking awesome.

Here's why:

1. It cuts down on kiddie clutter.  Who doesn't have bins and toy boxes overflowing with toys?  And more so, bins overflowing with toys that your kids don't even play with?! We're talking about gifts my kids didn't want, gifts that aren't age appropriate and duplicate gifts. Just straight up waste in general.

2. Less returns.  I can't tell you how many times I've received clothing for my child that A) they can't wear because of sensitive skin - 100% cotton only is necessary for them B) a size that is waaayyyyy off - all because Aunt whoever is really good at eye-balling sizes (no, she's not), C) clothes that I'd never let my kids wear in public - namely, Disney character shirts and bikinis.

Or, I've had to return toys because we already have them.  How many Frozen dolls can one family accumulate? How many "Make Way for Duckling" books?

PS - If I'm not returning the unwanted gifts, the gifts will be re-gifted, or they'll be donated, or the gifts will make a stunning debut in next spring's garage sale.

3. It's easier for parents hosting the parties.  It's convenient.  I don't have to keep track of what gift ideas I told this person, and that person.  I don't have to spend countless hours on the phone and computer answering questions about gift ideas.  I'm too busy putting on a Pinterest-perfect birthday party. Here's the registry - BOOM. DONE.

4. If I'm invited to a party - it cuts down on the time I need to spend to look for the damn gift.  I ain't got time for all that shit, ya hurd me? I appreciate the fact that another parent is guiding me in the gift-buying direction.  I consider that in itself, a gift to the guest.  I mean for real, I don't know what the hell a 12-year old boy likes!  Do they like Playboy?  Cuz that's what they're gettin' if you don't give me some concrete gift ideas.  I have 2 girls.  Any guidance is appreciated for sure.

5. Your kid actually gets what they want! Holy shit! Why is that so bad?  I hate surprises - I hate surprises even more, if it's something I never wanted in the first place! Does that make me an ungrateful brat?! No.  It just makes me picky and hard to buy for.  Just ask my husband when he so lovingly tried to buy me a pair of diamond stud earrings.  I was like, ummmmm, nooooo, bye.  So disappointing.  Disappointing because that's not my style.  And disappointing because I hadn't expressed the desire for them.

So, to expect your kid to put on a happy, polite, fake excited face when they open a toy they could give two shits about.  Ugh.  Kids very rarely nail this fake reaction I speak of.  And it's just embarrassing for all involved.  Just give the damn kid something they want.

The kiddie gift registry phenomenon isn't without some limitations.  I think everyone can still adhere to some sort of etiquette guidelines.  For example, I wouldn't put the kid's gift registry on an invitation.  I think the registry should only be given to people that ask about gift ideas.  Also, I'd cap the dollar amount of items on the registry to no more than $50.

I wanna know what you think!

What do you think of kiddie birthday registries?  Obnoxious, rude, tacky, or genius, easy, convenient?

Please comment below.

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