ghetto cowboy

not my s'more or my picture

Have you ever come across a site so absolutely great and hilarious and just wanted to share it with the everyone (kinda like how you probably feel about my blog...)

well my sister sent me an email this morning with a link to a Tumblr page called, ghettohikes.  As the page describes, this 28 year old individual named Cody leads groups of urbanites into the wild on camping trips and then writes down the hilariously honest things they say.

I'm not lying when I say I had laugh tears running down my face.  One of the best internet finds in a while for me.  The "hey girl" site full of Ryan Gosling images set a high barre.

Thanks Cody, keep the laughs coming!

moms rule

i don't own this picture, just the words.  don't sue me

The following is my recent article that appeared in my local paper, The Henry County Times.  

For one day out of the year, moms from all walks of life are celebrated and showered with love, and gifts of flowers and chocolate.  We’re congratulated for our heroine like efforts of producing life.  We are given lovely hand-made cards (probably that morning by a well-meaning spouse while the pop-tarts brown in the toaster for our breakfast in bed).  It’s all very heady stuff.  However, for the rest of 364 days of the year, the world sings a very different tune. 

As mom’s we are constantly being questioned, judged, and flat out disrespected at pretty much every turn in our efforts to raise our children.  A recent Times Magazine article asking “Are you mom enough” featured a mom breastfeeding a child, many felt, was far past the acceptable age of being breastfed.  The article in short is about the concepts of attachment parenting.  This article effectively stirs two very hot pots of parenting debate; breastfeeding and the age old argument of working moms vs. stay- at- home- moms. 

Let’s tackle the first one shall we?  I do not give one single ounce of a care on how any mom decides to ensure that her child receives nutrition.  At all.  As long as the mom, does in fact, try to make sure that her child is eating on a regular basis it should not mater to anyone else if that food is coming from ta-ta’s or a bottle.  It really is just as simple as that.  There are plenty of mom’s out there that starve their children and those moms we should be concerned with.  The ones that ARE feeding their kids should not be on anyone’s radar.  If the site of a boob bothers you that much you might have a bigger issues you might want to look into.  This is, after all, why woman have them right?  I know over the years the details have gotten muddled and many feel that woman and their attached body parts are solely for the amusement of others, but that’s not actually the case. Shocking right? 

Next up we have working vs. stay- at- home.  This is a hot topic.  Having done both in the short amount of time I’ve been a parent, I can debate from the fence.  It is absolutely none of my business or anyone else for that matter why a mom decides to work or stay at home.  The grass is always greener on the other side.  One of my favorite sayings is “you might know my story, but you don’t know my journey.”  I think this applies nicely here. 

And while we’re on this topic, moms, I want to talk directly to you for a moment.  Can we cut out the fellow mom bashing between us?  Some of our harshest criticism comes from each other. Why?   The last I checked we were all soldiers in the same war.   This isn’t friendly fire we’re throwing at one another.  Maybe the next time you feel like uttering that phrase that makes even your own skin crawl,  “ well, that’s not how I do it” opt for something a little more supportive.  Because we all know how it feels to be delirious with sleep at 3 a.m with a crying a baby that will.not.sleep.  and you are praying to every god in the cosmos that if you can just maybe get like thirty minutes of sleep that you will never do another bad thing in your life.  We know how it feels to hold our children, while the scream and cry, getting shots at the doctor’s.   And your own eyes sting with tears that you cannot cry because you have to be the strong parent, but inside you feel like dying.  We all know that joy, pure and unadulterated, the first time our babies say “momma”.  Because most babies say “dada” first.  I dunno why.  I’m going to assume that every mom I know is doing their personal best.  We all should. 

So to answer the question “ Are you mom enough?”  Yeah, I am.  And so is every other mother out there making sure their kids grown up to be happy and healthy.  We moms have enough plates spinning in the air most days that really the last thing we need is someone implying that we’re not doing a good enough job.  We’re doing just fine thank you.   So can we put this tired old debate to bed once and for all.   The economy looks like it needs a little help though so maybe we should focus on that.  Or do us mom’s need to fix that too?  

i ain't sayin' she a gold digger

I read the other day that "super" model Linda Envangilista and her baby daddy, Francois-Henri Pinault,  reached a settlement in the child support case of their son.  Miss. Model was asking for a measly $46,000 (THOUSAND!) a MONTH to take care of ONE child.  Just one. 

Um, okay.  Where to start.  I have two kids and to date, I don't think they have collectively cost me anywhere  near that much money in the seven years I have been a parent.  I know Linda used to be some hot stuff once upon a time on the catwalk, but home girl is looking at doing anti-wrinkle commercials for Olay.  Forty-Six thousand a month?!   Does the child eat caviar for breakfast, lunch, and dinner?  Is his nanny the holographic image of Tupac?  I know that whole "maintaining a standard of living" nonsense they'll feed the media, but  someone might want to suggest that Linda look into couponing and budgeting.  The details of the settlement haven't been made public..yet, but i'm sure it will still be more then then average American family makes in a year. Awesome.  

Now I'm not saying that ol' Franc shouldn't be paying up.  Last I heard it takes two to tango.  I did sorta pay attention in sex ed. back in middle school.  And while we are on that topic someone might want to explain where babies come from to Mr. Pinault.  Aside from the very expensive trophy from nailing a one time hot piece of ass he is also the father to two children from a previous marriage and shares a daughter with baby mama ( and now wive) Selma Hayek.  At least that feisty little siren from south of the border has the good sense to make him put a ring on it.  Kudos sista! 

Looking at pictures of Francois you'd be hard pressed to try to tell me that these children were the product of love.  Maybe he's really charming or smells good, I dunno.  He probably just showed these "ladies" his bank statement and their panties combusted.  At least that's how I imagine it in my head.  

If i'm being honest, a small part of me is probably a little jealous.  Sure, Mr. Pinault isn't my usual type, but if he called me up I would drop it like it's hot and hope to God I was ovulating.  Cha-Ching!  

pink eye

Being a mom has a lot of really awesome moments.  Like when you hear your child say he loves you for the first time, how they run and leap into your arms and the such.

Sometimes though it's not all fun and games.  Like when they share with you their pink eye germs.  Yup, that's not so awesome.  I could have done without them sharing their butt scratching doo-doo finger germs with me.  I know it originated from B and S because they're just getting over their own conjunctivitis.  Trying to type out a blog post with one functioning eye kinda sucks.  My right eye is pretty much swollen shut right now.  Turns out you really do need both eyes for silly things like depth perception. Pouring the kids juice this morning was a real laugh (not really)

On top of all this fun I have a math test tomorrow.  So it's off to the drug store for a doo-doo eye walk of shame...
 
p.s.  I was going to add a picture of a pink eye infected eye...but upon googling it I changed my mind.  ugh.  some things can't be unseen.

troubled waters

http://youtu.be/o7BmJM_9RUM   (click on that because I can't figure out how to embed the link, but read the following first)

So that above scene, that I in no way own and apologize for it's horrible quality, pretty much sums up my evening with Seth.  Something he ate decided to wage a war in his tiny tummy tonight before bed and he found himself battling a case of "muddy water" as he calls it.  And I, as his very lucky mom, had the privilege of sitting with him in the bathroom while a scene very much like the above one, played out.  That is just one of the many perks of being a parent.  You never know if your kids are going to want mommy or daddy in their times of need.  So when I got called into the bathroom tonight to ride out the storm with my ailing four year old, I went.  I think such situations are listed in the fine print of rights you waive when you leave the hospital with your bundle of joy.  Along with things like ever soundly sleeping again, hot meals for at least the first five years, showers that last longer than fifteen minutes, ect.

One thing to know about Seth is that he NEVER stops talking.  He's even been known to talk in his sleep.  So while he violently evacuated his lower intestines he kept up a steady stream of conversation like we were sitting on the couch having a normal conversation.  And if you know anything about me,  I have the maturity level of a  twelve year old boy when it comes to bathroom jokes so it takes every fiber of my being not to collapse into a fit of giggles and keep a straight face.  My favorite line from Seth was when he looked down at his tummy and exclaimed, "tummy, what's wrong with you!!".

I am glad to report that by the time he drifted off to dream land he seemed fine and hopefully that will be the case through the night.  Although I won't hold my breath for that since that whole no sleep thing was in the fine print.  Well, I take that back, I will be holding my breath but for a different reason.

random thoughts

not my actual egg, duh.  

I partially read a story earlier that, in short, was something about the emotional downfall of donating eggs for strangers to use in IVF.  It got me thinking though...I will never be able to donate my eggs.  Ever.  Not because  I am morally against such things, but because I have a kid with autism.

Having a child on the spectrum nobody is ever going to want a part of my genetic code.  Even though autism hasn't been linked to be genetic, they'll turn their noses up at my ovaries offerings.  They won't care that my son is one of the funniest, smartest, caring, insightful, adorable ( adjective etc) kid on the face of the planet.  That they should be honored to have a child that is 1/4 of his awesome.  They won't even care that we have son that isn't on the spectrum and he's just as equally amazing as his brother in his own way.  

and to that I say..it's their lose.  They probably couldn't handle such an amazing kid anyways.  It's an honor and a privilege to raise such a child and I thank the universe daily for choosing me to accept the challenge.  

I'll leave you with a gem brady shared with me today

"a hungry person never passes up the chance to lick the beaters" -brady, age 7.  Autistic and more awesome than your genetically engineered kid.  

just a little reminder

Just a reminder that if you want to keep up with the two crazy kids for which the blog is named after then clicky over to the side on my Facebook link and then subscribe.  How easy is that?!  And you'll probably end up with a daily dose of funny on your news feed.  It's a win-win situation!