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When you sh** your pants at Tiffany’s

First of all, I’d like to clarify that I wasn’t the one who did the pants shitting. It was Emma. Second, this was last year and not when she was in diapers. Third, she gave me permission to tell her story. Because she’s awesome and it’s funny.

Forgive me, but there’s some back story here. I want to give a quick run down of how I have always wanted a little something something from Tiffany’s. You know, the fancy American jeweler with the little blue box. Dammit all- they have good packaging. And marketing. Because Audrey Hepburn wasn’t in a movie called Breakfast at Ben Bridge. Or Breakfast at the Sear’s jewelry department. When there’s a movie called Breakfast at Tiffany’s, it sort of makes the place iconic. Not sort of. It does. [Read more…]

Why I deserve the greatest Mother’s Day of all. And you do too.

I know, I know. You’ve heard it before. We (moms) think were goddesses and fucking saints for pushing watermelons out of our easy bake ovens. And if you had a C-section- power to you. Because stitches through five layers of tissue makes any guy whining over a vasectomy look like the pansy ass douche he is.

Where was I? Why am I so angry? I don’t know. I mean, maybe it’s the PTSD from the pre-epidural catheter they gave me in the labor and delivery room when I went hypertonic trying to birth Emma. Hypertonic- abnormal muscle tone. Sadly, my over active uterus did not leave me with 6 pack abs.

Maybe it’s the bloody nipples I got a week after she was born because I spent those 7 days with her latching on improperly while trying to breast feed. Then cried when I was pumping milk sitting on the toilet in our cramped little bathroom because I felt like a failure.

Yeah. Moms unite! Bitches get shit done. And you know what? We get birthing done.

When I gave birth to Emma, there was a story that week in the news of some natural disaster in Africa ( I can’t remember because part of the brain that holds memory and reason comes out with the after birth. It’s true.)  that caused a woman to give birth in a tree. A GODDAMN TREE! By herself. Her and her baby were there for a good day or so before the rescue choppers got her. Did she worry about saving the placenta later because her MOPS group wanted to make smoothies out of it and then paint pretty pictures on canvases while drinking wine? NO! She did what she had to do.

And gosh darn, I was laboring in a comfortable first world hospital bed and I thought of her. HER. And she was my hero. But also, it kind of scared the shit out of me because the way things were going with Emma, I would have died in that tree and she with me. So yay, modern conveniences!

So I’m sorry if my wish for this Mother’s day is to be treated like royalty by the subjects of the house. But dude! I earned it. It’s been 15 years since all that happened. But still.

Not that you want to know this, but one of the first times I got up to go to the bathroom after I had Owen, I thought I had birthed a second child. I had been lying down in the bed for several hours. It was so scary, like, I paged the doctor  and all and told her that a pile of left over something and I think it had teeth and whatnot had just smooshed out of my cooch and did they need to weigh it or take it for a biopsy, because that twin baby looked like I was bleeding to death. It was frightening.

She laughed, sweetly, and said, you know, most moms forget that their vagina is a long tunnel that fills up with all kinds of good stuff after the baby is born. It was just waiting to come out. Sometimes the muscles contract and it doesn’t until you get up to go to the bathroom. And then I was all, “Like a JELL-O mold!” And she’s all, “YES! You’re fine!”

Oh phew! I thought I hemorrhaged. And so does every other woman who just pushed an 8 pound bag of potatoes with a 90th percentile head out of a hole the size of a golf ball.

Let’s not forget the old days when our mothers and their mothers had babies. When they gave them enemas, shaved their pubes, and knocked them out with drugs. You know. Because it’s easier for the doctor. The male doctor. Oh boo on him for dealing with female pubic hairs. Thank GOD when they changed that. Even though now everyone’s got a Brazilian, so who cares. And I’m all for drugs, but I’d rather NOT wake up two days later to find out if I actually had the baby or not.

Ugh. Men.

“Waa. Let me whine some more because my wife snores when she sleeps and insists on sleeping with a body pillow we’ve named Phil. She never wants to do it anymore. WAAA.”

Someone call the whambulance, because I’m sick and tired of men complaining. I’m sick and tired of men complaining about their vasectomies and that their wife doesn’t want to have sex. Oh, and then newsflash. She’s not going to want to have sex with you after because, well. You’ve seen the Hindenburg disaster. Who wants to fly after that? We need some time. And by time, I mean at least, at LEAST 6 months post partum. And lube. Lots and lots of lube. And probably booze. And the promise of a nap afterwards without a baby attached to my body.

And again, sorry for the graphic nature of this- but if you had hemorrhoids, you don’t want your man down in your crotchal region with anything other than some nice cotton or microfiber breathable underpants. Stuff changes. It’s not the same.

Did you have an episiotomy? Or how about a 4th degree tear? Do the words ‘transvaginal mesh’ send you into flashbacks of trauma similar to a combat veteran’s? You didn’t know what a ‘taint was before, but now you do.

Yeah. So lay off dudes. We deserve pie, and croissants. We should have long leisurely baths alone without people asking to climb in the tub with us. That goes for little kids AND husbands. STAHP. If I wanted a bath with you, I would have said so.

Plus sex in bathwater leads to UTIs and nobody got time for that.

Happy Mother’s day mamas! May you get all the worldly goods you deserve. And peace.

 

Frugalista Blog in the Pee Alone Trilogy

Buy the books on Amazon!

Mother’s Day Gift Ideas

It’s that time fellas, daughters, sons- mom needs a gift. Sure, you can go buy her a box of chocolates at Rite-Aid that you picked up on your way home from work, be sure to include the inflatable foot bath. Or you can get something a little more awesomer and then she’ll know you appreciate all the work she does washing your socks and wiping the toilet seat.

These items are my own personal favorites. I have experienced these products for myself or found out about them and want them in my life. In the end, if you want to make a macaroni necklace with a hand print and call it good- I’m fine with that too.

Jord Wood Watches

It’s a watch made out of wood. Yep. And it’s lightweight, comfortable and completely handsome for both a Mother’s day gift, anniversary or birthday gift. You want something that’s treasured, smart and wears beautifully? It’s a Jord watch.

When my Jord watch came and I unwrapped it, McSweetie said, “oh, I’m jealous.”  The best part- they sized it for me before they sent it!

Jord Wood Watches Sully Timepiece in Cherry

Jord Wood Watch Sully Timepiece in Cherry

I recommend this for Father’s day too- especially for the guy who has everything. Why not something really unique?

What about the woman who likes to be pampered? Hmm, well if you have a hard to please matriarch in your family, how about Spoil?

https://www.spoil.io/

https://www.spoil.io/

You’ve seen subscription boxes all over the place. You can get meals, you can get pet supplies, makeup, period boxes (yes, that’s right) and snacks delivered every month. But, what about a gift box for Mother’s day delivered with exquisite items beautifully tucked in a package and sent to your mom like she is the Duchess Cate Middleton, herself? Yeah.  It’s called Spoil. If you need a fabulous gift for a different occasion, they have that too. Plus they have a discount for my readers! Enter “FRUGIE” at checkout.

Spoil Box for Mother's Day

Spoil Box for Mother’s Day

 

In the interest of doing for others, isn’t that what our moms always taught us? I want to share the company Women for Women International. If it is too much for your budget to sponsor a ‘sister’ each month, there’s an opportunity to purchase much needed supplies for a mother in Rwanda, the Congo and Afghanistan to name a few. If your own mom has enough tchotchkes and scarves or jewelry but has a calling to do something good and better in this world- think of what a baking basket or seeds could do for a woman providing an income for her family in a developing nation. From goats to seed packets, you can shop for a mother across the world and share it in honor of your own mother. She’ll be so proud.

Bakery Basket on womenforwomen.org

Bakery Basket on womenforwomen.org

 

Vegetable seeds for 30 acres womenforwomen.org

Vegetable seeds for 30 acres
womenforwomen.org

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And of course, for the sassy and funny mom in your life, who wouldn’t want the anthology I Still Just Want To Pee Alone?

 

Buy her all three! I Just Want To Pee Alone (a NYT best seller!), I Just Want To Be Alone, and I Still Just Want To Pee Alone.

Look how pretty! Thanks letmestartbysaying.com for the awesome graphic

Look how pretty!
Thanks letmestartbysayingblog.com for the awesome graphic

And then actually give mom a few hours peace!

 

Disclaimer: The opinions in this post are all mine and I wasn’t paid for any of it.

 

 

Want to go to MamaCon for 1/2 price? Bring a friend!

First of all, you’re wondering what the heck is MamaCon.  Well it’s this, right here- MamaCon.
Sci Fi nerds, Comic book junkies and Star Trek geeks have their conventions- now moms do too! Yes, complete with spa treats, wine and free swag. They know what we like!
The weekend of May 18th in Bellevue, WA is MamaCon.
I realize that doesn’t include most of you since you’re not near Seattle. I understand.
But if you are reading this and near Seattle, then please consider this awesome FRIDAY ONLY deal.
And to put the cherry on the sundae, the icing on the cake, the butter on the bread- I’m going to be there hosting the evening’s comedy show- Honey I Shrunk My Libido. I can’t wait!! The show includes the fabulous Nikki Knepper of Moms Who Drink and Swear. I think we will be drinking, swearing, and laughing till our mascara runs!!
Tickets are available even if you’re not able to attend the day at MamaCon. http://libidosea2013.eventbrite.com/#
A message from Amy & Kim – MamaCon’s co-founders:
An amazing mom who attended last year’s MamaCon believes so strongly in what the event can do for moms like you that she wants to make it possible for more moms to come this year. Wahoo!
This awesome anonymous mom is making it possible for 25 other moms to attend for FREE. Be one of the first 25 to use the code BOGO24 when you register this Friday and you can bring a friend for FREE! (If you think MamaCon is fun on your own, just wait til you come with a friend.)
Here’s how to make it happen:
1) Find your buddy – post on Facebook or send an email telling your friends the first to get back to you can join you at MamaCon for FREE! (You can, of course, split the cost of one ticket making this a super duper affordable day of relaxing and refueling. Just a thought!)
2) Deal with your kids – enlist your baby daddy, significant sidekick, mom, neighbor, whoever to wrangle the kids for a day. Arrange an “extendo-playdate” and promise to return the favor – you’ll be so re-energized after MamaCon that you’ll be up for hosting multiple playdates!
3) Register for MamaCon this FRIDAY, May 10 starting at 5:00 AM for 24 hours only!
1) Register yourself. Use code BOGO24 and put your buddy’s name in the “How did you hear about us” section. 
2) Register your buddy. Use code BOGO24 and put your name in the “How did you hear about us” section. 
3) You must pay for each ticket via PayPal or credit card or it won’t work!
4) Your buddy’s name must be on your registration form or both tickets will be rejected.
There’s a limited amount and time so act fast! Mark your calendar and be ready to register at 5:00 AM on Friday.
Love,
Amy & Kim
PS If you join us at MamaCon and you have a horrible experience, we will give you your money back. Seriously.

Scary Mommy book review and a Mother’s Day Giveaway

 

Hey it’s Mother’s Day next week. You know what that means? Macaroni necklaces and handprint pictures that you will treasure forever. Or not.

Don’t think I’m a bitch for saying this- but sometimes for Mother’s Day, I would actually like a present that isn’t an outline of my child’s hand, or I don’t know, a shower head fixture. Now that the kids are older, I don’t get many egg crate jewelry boxes or seashell decoupages. And not to say I didn’t enjoy the ones I did get in my past. I did. I remember vividly tearing up at the hand print poem Owen gave me the Mother’s day he was in Kindergarten. It was precious. And I understand that McSweetie doesn’t really know what to do with Mother’s day anyway. Do I get a simple bouquet of flowers and call it good? Or do I need a giant diamond pendant that signifies all the fabulous things I do each and every day?

Well, neither.

I think flowers are a rip-off at Mother’s Day. They jack up the prices. And a giant diamond pendant is a little ridiculous. Just a little. A medium-sized diamond pendant wouldn’t be that ridiculous though…

So let’s be real here. We want to share all the real things we love and hate about Mother’s Day. You know there are those things that suck about it! And I thought what would be more perfect than a review of an awesome new book. Recently, I got the privilege of a copy of the new book Scary Mommy; Motherhood Comes Naturally  (and Other Vicious Lies) by Jill Smokler. I was tickled that I got a preview of the book from her publisher and I couldn’t wait to share my book review with you. It does not disappoint.

If you come from the point of view that motherhood isn’t all baby powder freshness and cooing lullabies, you will love Jill’s book. This is a second installment of her Scary Mommy tales. All I can say is, where was this woman when Emma was a baby?

Some Scary Mommy Confessions you can probably relate to:

“I beat my kids at Super Mario Bros. and proceeded to do a victory dance that made them all cry. Whoops.”

“For Mother’s Day, I will trim my pubes. And then I’ll pleasure myself while fantasizing about child-free days, endless bottles of wine, and the time when my husband was actually sexy.”

And my favorite-

“For years we’ve been assuming our daughter is just in an annoying phase. Turns out, she’s actually just really annoying.”

 

So for all you hard working, (every mom is a working mom) tireless, selfless mothers out there- I’m doing something special.

Enter for a chance to win a copy of Motherhood Comes Naturally (and Other Vicious Lies) by Jill Smokler, and I will throw in a copy of I Just Want To Pee Alone! As a bonus giveaway- if you prove in the comments with a link to a social media site that you told your friends about Scary Mommy’s book, I will randomly select a winner for something special by ME! No macaroni necklaces here, this will be a great load of loot, I promise.

Jill has been crazy busy promoting her book on the Today show and is starting a book tour- Find her cities here. 

I want to help her sell a ton of books. She has three kids to put through college people- or pay for therapy, either way.

So enter and share!
a Rafflecopter giveaway

It’s all fun and games until somebody pukes.

Saturday was a day Owen and I were looking forward to.  Ever since our last high tea excursion in the city, we wanted to do it again and bring my mom- this would be my Mother’s day with her. We decided to use this weekend for it instead of actually going on Mother’s Day weekend since we wanted to avoid any crowds – you know how crowded those High Teas can get! (rolls eyes) and also, we have other plans Mother’s day weekend. So this weekend it was.

Owen woke me up at 7 am on Saturday morning. He whispers- ‘I’m excited for High Tea, I can’t sleep’. Okay buddy, I’ll get up. 7 is not too early, and honestly, I like getting up and having time to catch up on emails, harvest my crops in WeTopia, you know, the usual stuff.

When it was time to go to the city to the fancy schmancy hotel, Owen had his nice shirt on and his good sweater on. Off we went in the stylin’ minivan (dear heavens this vehicle hasn’t seen a sponge or soap in months). Y’all know how much I love my minivan.

The doorman greeted us in his smart coat and hat, and I had Owen take my picture next to the Daniel Craig ad at the Omega store (duh, of course!) as the doorman looked on and laughed telling us a story of another group taking their picture next to the same picture. I guess everyone admires Mr. Bond.

Hold that thought! (Screeching tire sounds) Wait just a minute!! I forgot one important thing!!

The night before, while I was tucking Owen in, he asks me- “Mom, is being a kid going to be the best years of my life? Because I get to spend all this time with you.”

Lump in throat, eyes watery. Oh. My. Goodness. THIS is what parenting is all about. Geeze. OOOH I just hugged him to bits that night.

Okay, fast forward, back to High Tea.

Owen ordered his own pot of their signature black tea blend. He got his own tower of little sandwiches, petit fors and scones. There’s little things of cream and marmalade on the table. So. Cute.

My mom and I shared a tower of little cucumber sandwiches, curried chicken sandwiches, tarts, cream puffs and scones. We’re like, “gosh, this seems so small, is there enough food?” We even had one of the waitresses sneak us some extra sandwiches. Not kidding!!

Did we get full on our second scone and third cucumber sandwich? You bet your sweet tea pots we did! We even took home some leftovers. Silly little nitties we are! After a whole pot of tea filling your belly and those little lemon tarts with the cream, you fill up a lot faster than you think! WE learned our lesson!

Owen started to complain he didn’t feel good. Hmm, he said he didn’t feel good when he got out of the car. Let’s see here, (scratches head and thinks hard)  I’m going to make the assumption he’s just full. Funny, how when your kid complains of a stomach ache, you reason with yourself all the things it probably is. Heaven forbid, there’s ACTUALLY something wrong with them. The last thing we want is puking. I don’t just jump to the conclusion of, “oh my goodness, you’ve got the flu, quick, you need a bowl, you might vomit everywhere”. (This is called foreshadowing folks.)

Owen originally wanted to go to the University of Washington’s bookstore. That kid loves books. He was looking forward to looking at and showing books to Oma. They have a great kid’s section and lots of young adult fiction and classics. It’s really awesome.

You know it’s bad when your kid gives up the equivalent of a trip to the toy store, and asks to go home.

Ruh Roh.

“Hmm, here- hold this (hands him the paper bag the left over scones were packed in. YES I took them out first, duh!), just in case buddy ‘kay? Not that you are going to throw up (wipes his little brow comfortingly), but just in case.”

Sure enough- he moaned the entire 20 minute ride home, as soon as we pull in to the neighborhood entrance, HURL sounds come from the back seat! (Gag reflex on mom- engage, blech)

Within seconds the sour, stenchy, biley smell starts filling up the car. I roll the windows down and speed the heck home.

We get on the driveway, I jump out, help him out. Well, the bag was helpful. But not 100%. He’s covered in it. He’s sitting in it. It’s in the seat belt. On his face.

OH GOOD LORD!!

He gets on the driveway and kneels down and takes a Tebow. I see that it has covered the back of his pants. While I get a roll of paper towels and start on the car, he is making sure he is done puking for the time. Poor buddy.

My mom is just chill and being there for Owen, and I’m not letting her help.  I jump in fight or flight mode- which in this case is fight- cuz running down the street screaming isn’t going to get my van clean. And by fight I mean- grabbing every paper towel product and spray cleaner/carpet spray/ Febreze product in sight. Mom goes inside and waits for Owen to change. Once he does- I strip him inside the garage and then throw his clothes in the washing machine immediately- he snuggles on the couch with ‘The Bowl’ and chats with Oma. She gets him some water and he seems pretty good actually.

I have NO IDEA what the heck it was. He says there was a kid that puked at school and went home. I tell you, there’s been at least 4 kids that have puked in his classroom this year. His teacher must have a steel clad stomach. That’s just the worst. (shiver)

My mom and I hug and laugh on the irony of the day. Oh well. I guess this is what ‘Mother’s Day’ is all about right?? It’s never just about us- someone has to go and puke and ruin the fun! I’m just kidding! Owen felt so awful, not just in the bellyache kind, but in his heart. He was so sweet and thanked me for taking him to tea. We three promised we would do it again another time AND the book store so that we could make up for the crappy end to such a fine start to the day.

That whole afternoon we snuggled- well, I snuggled on the armchair NEXT to the couch- I’m not stupid- I think I washed my hands like, 12 times and I gave him ginger ale and he watched Harry Potter. And yes, I made myself a cup of tea. I know, I know, it’s like I need an intervention. But after all that cleaning up and chaos with the car pukeness, I needed a relaxing cup of tea.

The coast was clear for the next 12 hours and he was able to go see the Avengers movie with his buddy like he planned on Sunday. That’s his birthday party this year. Just to see a movie with a friend and go out to eat afterwards. I LOVE kids getting older and I don’t have to plan stuff!! Yay me!

And yes- the car STILL smells. I’m working on it. And yes, I’m trying every remedy known to Googlekind. So if it’s on the internet, I’ve tried it. It’s about 85% vomit-smell free now.

Happy Mother’s Day alls y’alls.

Me and Daniel- OKAY, fine- Me and a picture of Daniel.

Look at him pour his milk in his tea cup like a good English lad!! See all the cute, little fancy accoutrements on the table??

What I REALLY want for Mother’s Day. Really.

Peace.

Not world peace. That would be nice.  Just peace. And quiet. It’s not hard really. Is it?

I will admit, my children are older now. They are very good at entertaining themselves. They usually are off at a friend’s house, stuck in a book, watching a show, at school, whatever. So I have it good. But sometimes on weekends when the whole family is together, it gets a little dicey. There’s bickering. Snide remarks. Insults under the breath (ARGH, I hate that!) and sometimes tears. Usually by the boy after the girl tells him he’s a stupid boy that needs to go away. She can get a little nasty sometimes. She’s in training to be the perfect mercurial moody woman. But there’s also times when they are the best little angels. I mean really. They can be so sweet to each other. Mostly on my special days- like birthdays and Mother’s day, they know to be nice. They have even written a contract some years. I’ll be pulling out the contract again this year.

But back to Mother’s Day. MY Mother’s Day. I will not let myself feel guilty for wanting a real Mother’s Day. Why not?? I deserve it dammit!

I’ve learned over the years how to play the Mother’s Day game. I am so blessed and lucky to have my mom. I have my mother in law nearby as well. So in the years of early motherhood, I was the pleaser. I tried to please them and try to have it all but in the end, just got frustrated. Mother’s Day sucked. So now, I spread it out. I have the ability to have time with my mom on one day. And then usually the Saturday before Mother’s Day Sunday, we can all go down to my in-laws and do the grandma thing where she can revel in the children, they can make her feel special, and everyone’s happy.

So I’ve come up with some Mother’s Day options to pick from for myself:

There’s the Fantasy Mother’s Day; Daniel Craig brings me tea on a tray while he’s wearing Speedos and tells me I’m the new Bond girl and he needs to take me to the set in Istanbul the next morning on the studio’s private jet. Hmmm, not sure about this one. That would confuse the children greatly why James Bond is barely clothed in our house and daddy’s scooping the cat box. They might need therapy.  Maybe scratch that idea.

There’s the I’m Tired of Being Around My Kids Mother’s Day; You spend the whole day at a spa and don’t come home until they are tucked in bed. As great as this sounds,  this is hard since it’s on a Sunday and I don’t know many spas around with those hours. Also- very confusing to the children. It is, after all, the day I’m celebrating my motherhood which only is because of their existence. Probably another reason for therapy in their adult years.

There’s the I’m Such A Wonderful Mommy I Want To Spend The Whole Day With My Kids Making Flower Pots and Ceramic Tiles and Go to A Petting Farm Mother’s Day. Well, this just wouldn’t do because it would drive me batshit crazy and I would be exhausted and one of us (me) will end up in tears.

Then there the balance of the second and third choice. The Please Just Pick Up Your Shit, Be Nice, Let Me Sit And Drink A Cup of Tea Without It Getting Cold and Make Me A Meal Mother’s Day. YES!! Ding ding ding ding. We have a winner!

This is the Mother’s Day I want.

It’s not that hard. It just takes a little pre-planning.

It will go something like this-

Wake up to smiling faces and a hot cup of tea brought to me in bed. I don’t even need a gift- just the hand made cards will do. Oh wait- I already took the kids to Target to buy my Mother’s Day cards, so all they have to do is sign them. How easy is that?? I didn’t look at the cards, in case you are wondering. Just for that fabulous gesture on my part, my husband should really buy me a yellow diamond pendant. Because when I say I don’t want a gift I am totally lying. I always want gifts. Who am I, a monk?? Gifts. Please!

We will get ready and go to church. On time. No fighting. No whining about shoes that don’t feel right. No rolling eyes because church is boring. Just get in the car, keep your mouth shut and sit in church dammit!

We will then go somewhere to dine. It doesn’t have to be a fancy schmancy four course brunch or super uber expensive brunch buffet. Which I never eat my money’s worth anyway. It just needs to be someplace that isn’t IHOP or Applebees. If they wanted to cook, I would be okay with that. (Again, another lie. I would SO not be okay with this)  My husband doesn’t cook and then I would end up doing the cleaning up or getting annoyed with how he’s using the wrong spatula on the non-stick skillet. You know what I mean? So just getting out of the house is probably best for all.

After we’ve dined, I might just read a book for the rest of the afternoon. Curl up and watch James Bond DVDs with the boy. Maybe it will be sunny and I can lounge out on the deck.

There will be no last minute scramble to get homework done, PE uniforms in the wash, rushing out to buy poster board at the office supply store, scrambling to make a video for math class that needs to be uploaded to YouTube or any other hasty hurried spur of the moment thing forgotten by either offspring.

Dishes will be put in the dishwasher. Toilet paper will be replaced on the roll- squares going OVER, not under. Towels will be hung up on towel racks after showers not to be found later in a mildewy damp pile. Socks will be put in the hampers.

This isn’t too much to ask. It can be done. The other 363 days (my birthday is the other ME day) I will handle the chaos, messes and emergencies. But not Mother’s Day. It’s just one day. One day. That’s all I ask.

Thank you.