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Guest Post: Breaking Dawn

This guest post comes from Scott Williams. He’s a writer who was first published in his 4th grade school newspaper. He was later published in a book of poetry that was most likely a scam, but he was published none the less. Choosing to see this as a symbol of honor, he never gave up writing.

When he found out he was going to be a dad for the first time, Scott decided to start this new adventure in a way he had never attempted. He started his own blog. And thus Raising Hubigail was born.

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This happened. Click for previous part.

I honestly don’t know why I called this Breaking Dawn. Maybe my subconscious was trying to find a correlation between my frustration, angst, and pointless drama, and an equally pointless source of drama, angst, and frustration. That’s right. I just slammed the Twilight saga.

Oh, I was going to tell you the most frustrating thing my wife does. It isn’t just one thing. It is the combination of several things at any given time.

After all the human father guy has been through just in the beginning, there is a myriad of obstacles he has yet to even realize. And, they only get worse as time goes on. Lets explore a few of them, shall we? Keep in mind that many if not all of these examples are the direct result of the changes a woman goes through during the “miracle” of child birth.

We, as men, acknowledge this fact and do not blame the woman. That only makes it ten times more frustrating.

Pregnancy Brain Fog!

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I feel I should explain what I believe is the source of all of this. Here we were enjoying life. My wife and I are very much the same. We don’t enjoy shopping. Each trip is usually “an in and out as quick as we can” sort of adventure (unless it is a Walmart date). We think the same and feel the same about almost everything. Drama is the worst thing ever invented. Stupid people annoy us. Inconsiderate people annoy us even more. Unfortunately, there are so much of all of this taking over the world. Because of this, we like to stay home and enjoy each others company rather than venture out and come back irritated and frustrated.

Since my wife got pregnant, life has changed dramatically (the worst way for anything to change ever invented). Whether it be the grocery store, school, the doctor’s office, or all the other things that seem to pop up, we always need to be going somewhere. Thus, our exposure to the previously mentioned unsavory people is greatly increased.

Additionally, my wife’s pregnancy brain fog has taken a hold of her. But it comes and goes. It is very similar to watching a person in the early stages of dementia. Trust me, I have some experience with that. They have their own sort of logic and you never quite know where their mind is. Sometimes they seem completely functional and able to do everything. But, since you have been paying attention all this time, you know that this could be a trick as dementia patience are prone to hide their condition.

You have to be ready at any time to correct or complete a story. You also need to be able to add details to what they are saying as they tend to forget that the first part of the conversation was in their head or that the other person is unaware of facts they have no reason to be aware of. This is very draining.

Occasionally, they have a moment of clarity and realize exactly what is going on. This is both good and bad. It is good because I have these occasional wonderful moments with the woman I married. Bad because it makes all the other times that much worse. Unlike dementia, this pregnancy brain fog is contagious. So, now we have two mindless people on alternating schedules of clarity.

Sort of the blind leading the blind scenario. On the rare occasion that we are both clear at the same time, 99.9% of that time it is ruined by having to go somewhere and deal with people we don’t care to (see above section about stupid and inconsiderate people) rather than enjoy our time together. This is the reason that I am always running 4 levels above the normal “frustration zone”. I just want my wife back.

Walking or the inability to do so.

pregnant-on-beachYou may be thinking this is just a still shot. You would be wrong. This is a full speed video of a pregnant woman walking. I don’t know how many times my wife and I have been walking somewhere and all of a sudden she was gone. I looked back and there she was standing in the middle of the road or in any other worst possible place to stop, rubbing her belly.

Never did she utter a single word or signal to me that she was no longer by my side. Really, it was a surprise every time. She now just grabs my arm and pulls me to a stop with her. Still in the middle of the street or at the edge of a cliff that is quickly eroding. She pauses to let a contraction pass or catch her breath while I stare into the eyes of our impending death.

What’s worse is that any time we go anywhere it takes forever to do anything. Everything is sssslllloooowwww mmmmoooottttiiiioooonnnn. Walking through Walmart is equally as frustrating as getting stuck behind a car going 25 mph on a road where it is absolutely impossible to pass. You are not in a hurry. You are not going to be late for anything. No big deal. You can wait.

But, what if you drove this road every day? What if every day you get stuck behind this car? What if every day there is a line of cars building up behind you and you know they think you are the one who is driving slow even though you have veered off to the right side several times to let them see that there is a car in front of you?

And, what if said line of cars has had enough and they drive as close to you as they can without actually touching your bumper while honking and alternating between flipping the bird and loading their firearm? Multiply that feeling by ten. Oh the humanity.

*Read the full post here.

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Guest Post: How A Mom Enjoys Her Coffee In 97 Steps

I gave Rachael from Three Boys And A Mom some blog love last week and linked a particular post as well. I love it so much and asked her if I can feature it as a guest post, especially for those who may have missed it. If I could, I would make this post my sister-wife. It’s hysterical and so relatable.

Rachael is a 29 year-old mom of 3 boys; identical twin 2 year-old’s and a 10 month old. She has a master’s degree in social work but is currently home with her boys. She loves and writes about all things motherhood, as well as the struggles and pains of divorce. Rachael hopes to write a book or two in the near future but until then you can follow her on her blog.

You can also find her here:

Facebook: https://m.facebook.com/rachaelplus3
Twitter: Check out Three Boys and a Mom (@rachaelplus3): https://twitter.com/rachaelplus3
Google+: https://plus.google.com/101219958454784459593
DivorcedMoms.com profile: http://divorcedmoms.com/authors/1366

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I’ve never been a, “I have to have my coffee or I can’t function” type person. Thank God. I do enjoy coffee though, and have learned it certainly helps as a sleep deprived mom of 3. It’s a rare day I get to actually drink the coffee though, and I usually have about 4 half empty, or half full if you want to be an optimist, cups of coffee spread throughout the house.

Here’s how drinking coffee typically goes in this house. (Mind you, MANY steps of the day are missing. This is just a generalized run down of the coffee drinking process.)

1. Wake up to a crying baby confused and disoriented because, didn’t you just lay that little booger down 5 minutes ago!?

2. Wipe the sleep from your eyes, grab him and try nursing him back to sleep.

3. After 35 minutes of half sleep with a person attached to you, wake up abruptly to a chomp on your nipple. Ouch!

4. Try wrestling him back to sleep. This goes on for at least 30 minutes.

5. Give up.

6. Try to shake off your exhaustion and compose yourself before going down the stairs lest you fall and kill yourself and your precious peanut.

7. Put him somewhere safe like an exersaucer and find the coffee.

8. Pour it.

9. Heat it up because it’s left over from yesterday’s pot of coffee.

10. Take a sip standing in the kitchen and try to muster up some energy for the day, thankful at least for now only 1 of the 3 are awake.

11. Take another sip…

12. What’s that noise!?

13. Oh it’s the twins jumping up and down in their bed yelling, “Mooooooommmmm!”

14. Go get the twins.

15. Do the assembly of diapers, milks, breakfast, and morning cartoon choices…try to choose something that stimulates their brain and is educational, while also not driving you insane.

16. Where’s the coffee?

17. Once everyone is settled for a few minutes, sip your coffee.

18. It’s cold.

19. Heat it up again.

20. Take another sip.

21. Someone pooped. Change the diaper.

22. Take another sip…it’s lukewarm but you’ll take it.

23. Now you have to pee… go to the bathroom, with the door opened of course, and at least 2 people watching saying, “MOM! What are you doing!!?? I need some more milky! What are you doing in there!!?”

24. Answer the questions with as much of a smile as you can find.

25. Heat the coffee up again.

26. Tend to the children. Clean up some spills, trip over a toy, take a deep breath.

27. Breastfeed the little guy.

28. Where did your coffee go!?

29. It’s still in the microwave. Heat it up a few more seconds because it got cold again sitting there.

30. Enjoy a sip.

31. Fish this out of your 10 month old’s mouth.

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32. Smell it, scared, anticipating if it’s poop or dirt. You can’t tell.

33. Wash it down the sink and wipe off your child.

34. Now it’s play time. Go enjoy some dedicated time with your boys.

35. Forget about the coffee for a few hours. It’s probably unsafe and radioactive by now anyway.

36. Start to feel tired and remember, “Oh, I have coffee!!”

37. Heat it up and drink a sip.

38. Everyone needs something.

39. Tend to all the needs with a 21 pounder dangling from your boob.

40. Give hugs, kisses and snuggles. Or time outs, whatever the case may be that 5 minutes.

41. Nap time! Hallelujah!

42. Get the twins down and pray fervently the little one will do the same.

43. A miracle has occurred and they’re all 3 asleep.

44. Sneak away quietly, holding your breath so no one smells you’re trying to get a 5 minute break and wakes up.

45. Heat the coffee and take a breath.

46. Take a few sips.

47. What’s that noise!? Oh the baby is awake! Of course, because he doesn’t believe in sleep.

48. Go get him.

49. Forget about the coffee and try to accomplish something while you only a have 1/3 of the chaos to tend to.

50. Clean, write, eat, study, etc as much as possible in between breastfeeding and entertaining a 10 month old.

51. Sit down for a few minutes and remember you still have coffee.

52. Heat it up.

53. Take a sip.

54. What’s that noise!?

55. The twins are awake! Go get them.

56. Do the diaper assembly (or going to the potty since you’re half potty training these big boys), get milks, tend to demands, etc.

57. Playtime.

58. Go outside, go for a walk, find something fun and entertaining, as well as educational, to feel like a good mom.

59. Check pinterest for ideas if necessary.

60. Love on your boys. Enjoy the moment.

61. Break up a fight, kiss a boo boo, do a timeout.

62. Inside for dinner.

63. Make dinner for everyone after tending to ALL the needs.

64. Ask children to come sit at the table and eat.

65. Endure the time it takes to get everyone’s listening ears on and working.

66. Breathe.

67. Bribe them with something that motivates them to eat their dinner.

68. Give lots of encouragement and praise as they make it through their meal one painstakingly slow bite at a time.

69. Clean up a spill, or five.

70. Fish the baby out of the dog bowl.

71. Clean him up.

72. Change diapers again and get more milk.

73. Follow through with whatever the bribe was to get everyone to eat.

74. Play some more.

75. Bath time. (Too many details to add them all in here…that’s a whole other post entirely.)

76. Get everyone out of the bathtub, brush teeth, diaper and dress every one. (Also another post entirely.)

77. Clean up toys and encourage boys to help you. Take some breaths after your toddler throws the toys and screams “no” at your face.

78. Do a timeout.

79. Finish cleaning and praise them for listening and cleaning so well.

80. Gather every one up for their bedtime story.

81. Slow down. Breathe. Read the story and enjoy the final moments of the day, excited it’s about to end.

82. Feel guilty for being excited.

83. Say prayers.

84. Give lots of hugs, kisses and snuggles.

85. Tuck every one in, dodge the the final requests and stall tactics, close the door.

86. 2 of 3 down.

87. Nurse the other one, praying he will drift to sleep soon.

88. Eventually he does. Sweet victory!

89. Lay him down ever so gently…

90. He pops back up. Nurse him again and start over.

91. He’s finally down.

92. Take a breath.

93. You made it!

94. Everyone survived another day.

95. Remember you never finished your coffee. (Yesterday’s or today’s.)

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96. Realize it’s midnight and who drinks coffee at midnight!?

97. Try again tomorrow!

So, there you have it. 97 simple steps to drinking coffee as a mom!

Do you ever get to actually enjoy your coffee hot? Do you give up and make it an ice coffee? Do you give up altogether?

Let’s get a cup of coffee and talk about it! :)

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Guest Post: This Is Motherhood

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This guest post comes from the fabulous Toni who you can find at Toni Hammer and she’s also a contributor at What The Flicka? Make sure to check out What I Say Vs. What My Kids Hear, 10 Ways To Annoy A New Mom, and What Toddlers Think Before Falling Asleep.

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Motherhood is changing your clothes seven times a day because your newborn won the silver medal in spitting up.

Motherhood is changing your clothes four times a day because your outfit is considered a giant kleenex.

Motherhood is throwing caution to the wind and just heading out into the world with stained clothes.

Motherhood is your coffee being spilled onto the carpet every day for a week until you rein in your mommy brain and remember to keep it out of reach of Tommy Touch Everything.

Motherhood is waking up at 1am (and 2 and 3 and 4) to hold and rock and cuddle a sick or teething baby.

Motherhood is waking up at 1am (or 2 or 3 or 4) to convince your toddler that it’s not time to be awake yet.

Motherhood is stepping on Cheerios a week after the box was empty and you’ve vacuumed roughly 72 times.

Motherhood is discovering cream cheese fingerprints on the top shelf of the DVD rack without any idea where they came from.

Motherhood is poop 24/7.

Motherhood is lying awake at night worrying your children won’t have anyone to eat lunch with at school… when they’re barely toddler age.

Motherhood is considering two showers a week a huge victory.

Motherhood is regretting teaching your daughter to call her pacifier a “suck” because she’s way too good at the “uck” sound.

Motherhood is screaming right along with your kids when you’re all having a bad day.

Motherhood is applauding your son when he takes his first steps.

Motherhood is realizing your world is over now that your son has taken his first steps.

Motherhood is stopping in the middle of a crosswalk to retrieve the doll your kid chucked out of the stroller.

Motherhood is giving your son a cookie at 10am because it’s adorable when he says “peeeease.”

Motherhood is eating your kid’s leftovers and calling it dinner.

Motherhood is dozing off on the couch and waking up to a toddler finger up your nose.

Motherhood is going to Target by yourself and feeling like you’re on a week long vacation.

Motherhood is misty eyes when your child says “love you, Mom” for the first time.

Motherhood is bawling your eyes out because this job is hard.

Motherhood is bawling your eyes out because this job is the best.

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Toni Hammer never planned on having kids, but she’s now a stay-at-home mom to Lily and Levi born 355 days apart. She chronicles her mommy misadventures at tonihammer.com, on Twitter and her Facebook page because she’s a social media addict. She contrinutes to Scary Mommy and What the Flicka and when her children are finally asleep, she works on her first book “Is It Bedtime Yet? Stories from a Mom Who Never Wanted the Job,praying a publisher will, ya know, buy it. She loves food she doesn’t have to cook or clean up and believes her out of control coffee consumption should be studied by science.

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Guest Post: I’ve Got Skills

This guest post comes from Mack who blogs at Is There Cheese In It? Also check out these posts; Wanted: Mom Friends Who Don’t Suck, As If Feeding The Kids Wasn’t Hard Enough, and I Wear “The Pants”, But Everyone In My Family Wears Pants… Sometimes. You can also find her on Twitter @cheeseinit.

skills

skills

New skills honed by motherhood:

* cooking meals with one arm, and one or more large, loud, hungry koala bears latched to my person

* driving with one arm in the back seat of my car (they think texting and driving is dangerous – they should outlaw driving with toddlers in the car)

* yeah, actually, just doing anything and everything with one arm, while lugging 25-50lb weights (i’m considering a second career in body building

* turning any meal into a smorgasbord of 1/4 inch toddler snacks

* peeing, pooping and showering with an audience

* defining “shower” as the cleansing of my face and armpits

* wearing maternity jeans well after the baby vacated the premises

* making shit up ALL the time on the fly, in response to the constant barrage of complex questioning (if you drink bath water, bugs will grow in your belly; if you stick your arm out the car window, a bee might fly into your palm and become embedded; if you are mean to your little sister, santa will not bring you presents; you have to brush your teeth two times a day, or else they will turn green and rot out of your mouth and no one will want to be your friend; yes, i just went pee in the toilet and that is why i am stuffing my face with M&Ms; when you grow up, you can __________ [chew gum/drink soda/drive/wipe your own ass/be the boss/ride a motorcycle, etc.])

* public displays of affection

* acting like it’s totally normal to go an entire day with someone else’s bodily fluids on my clothes

* plane travel while wrestling an angry octopus (don’t try this at home)

* changing the diaper of a moving target

* bathing two soapy, slippery little suckers simultaneously, rarely dropping either one

* carrying on telephone conversations with screaming hyenas in the background, and/or when said hyenas are trying to divest me of my communication device

* surviving sustained sleep deprivation and still appearing (to most) as a functioning adult human

* letting go of my OCD (a little) and learning to be okay with persistent, low-level filth

* embracing chaos (it’s a reluctant embrace, like when you’re cornered at a family reunion by your creepy uncle wally, who’s not actually your uncle (i don’t think), and who thinks you are your mother (who passed away over a decade ago) but hey, baby steps)

* being okay with not knowing everything, and being wrong (every once in a while ;))

* being a lot less judgy and a lot more understanding

* mastery of the 15 minute target shopping trip

* tempering my gag reflex

* whispering in a menacing manner and its corollary, Mom Voice

* i am really, REALLY good at counting to three

* bat ears/supersonic hearing

* reading books upside-down, otherwise they “CAN’T SEEEEEE IIIIIIIT!!!”

* amateur pediatrics and child psychology degrees at University of Google

* stealth, speedy ninja sex

* purchasing supremely embarrassing items from the drug store with a straight face (Gas X, Korbel, condoms, super-duper tampons and a jumbo-pack of pregnancy tests (either way i’m gonna need at least three out of five!))

 

Things that i am completely incapable of doing since i became a mom:

* holding an adult conversation when there are children in the vicinity

* remembering that thing i was just thinking about/looking for

* leaving the house with less than 37 pounds of baggage (and that’s not even counting my kids)

* arriving anywhere on time

* driving past a firetruck, ambulance, garbage truck or any manner of construction vehicle without getting really excited by proxy and pointing and exclaiming “LOOK!”

* basic math

* keeping the house, car and dog clean

* putting laundry away where it belongs

* maintaining normal adult human obligations such as regular medical check ups and dental care

* shaving (both, entire legs) on a regular basis … bikini… fuhgeddaboudit…

* finishing a thought or a sentence

* staying up late

* “partying”

* sleeping through the night

* giving a shit what other people think/say about my parenting and lifestyle

* giving a shit about other peoples’ parenting and lifestyles

* foreplay

* achieving my pre-baby weight

* wearing uncomfortable/matching underwear

* sneezing or laughing really hard without peeing a little bit

* remembering what my life was like “before” (what on earth did we DO with all that free time?!?)

* relaxing

* feeling shame

 

Things i pretend i don’t know how to do anymore when my husband is around (shhhh, don’t tell my women’s studies professors ;))

* use any and all household electronics, including remote controls and the DVR

* open a wine bottle

* reach things from tall shelves

* mix a pitcher of crystal light

* go grocery shopping (except vons.com and target, those i can handle)

* pick up dog poop

* take out the garbage

* blowjobs (i mysteriously manage to refresh my recollection at opportune times, e.g., in cases of emergency and/or as a bribery negotiating tactic ;))

Things my husband pretends he doesn’t know how to do anymore when i’m around: 

* pee IN the toilet

* hold in gas

* surreptitiously rearrange his junk

* basic table manners

* romance, including those long lost sweet serenades on his gee-tar

* hear certain frequencies of baby tears between the hours of 2 and 6am

What skills have YOU learned/lost?

*No Doubt

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Guest Post: Let’s Talk About Sex

This guest post comes from the wonderful and very sweet, Karen, who blogs at The Heart’s Inner Workings. You can also find her on Twitter @KarenPilarski. Make sure to give her some blog love! xx

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Boys will be boys who sniff their armpits to evaluate if a shower is in order. Dudes who put empty milk carton back in the fridge. For kicks they kill ants with a magnifying glass. Over time these boys grow into young men on the verge of adulthood. They are no longer interested in Star Wars figures or watching Disney flicks. Having lived my whole life as a girl I may not be totally educated on what is a boy. I do know the difference between a boy and a man.

I comprehend the curiosity about sex. Everyone can recall the first time those thoughts started to bang around in brains. The naked statue in the art store resulted in pointing and giggling. An older kid using a sexual term sends a jolt to boy’s innocence.

My brothers as youngsters would huddle in a corner of the local library and peruse at that book called ‘the joy of sex.’ Do we as parents spend too much time worrying about girls and their body and self esteem issues? Are boys being neglected? Pornography gives an unrealistic idea to boys as to what sex is. Am I an expert? No! To be candid, I can still count the number of people I have been around the block with on one hand. As a woman, I feel compelled to give an education lesson to these poor misguided young boys.

1. Sex isn’t really that random- In these adult movies, the scenario is usually the same. Some mailman, doctor, manager, flight attendant, etc  are chilling out when some busty and frisky chick happens on by. Usually there is little conversation that doesn’t involve obscenities. Funky, cheesy music starts playing and it is ON. Realistically it takes more than a smile and a hunky guy to get women in the mood. I certainly don’t reward my mailman in that fashion! While there is something called instant attraction, it takes more conversation to make it all the way. Women adore a guy that makes her laugh and wants to know about her. Like for starters her name.

2. Sex isn’t always earth shattering- Elaine from Seinfeld said it best “fake, fake ,fake.” I’m sorry to crush the notion that women climax during every time she has intercourse. Honestly, it takes understanding each other’s bodies and asking questions as to what feels good. All women ‘fake it’ at one point or another. It is about time management. We have things to do and places to be. We have to get up early in the morning. I’d put money on it that Crystal Glass (the name I made up), the blonde nurse in the adult movies, is faking. As a serious ‘actress’ she probably tired of screaming the oh’s and oh my gods.

3. Women are not contortionists- Some women who have been in the ‘business’ a long time are very uh..bendy. They appear to love having their body manipulated like that. Truth be told, the women probably don’t like it (see number 2). While it is fun to be open to new things, and healthy to experiment, women know what they will not do. No matter how much a man begs. Unless women are similar to Gumby, who is green and has a horse name pokey (insert obvious joke). I don’t predict scenes from adult movies being tried out. Sorry fellas.

I’m not trying to make the male species feel bad about pornography. It can be a good way to spice up a relationship or get through a lonely period. I just want young men to realize what they see in adult films or on regular films is not realistic. How would they feel if women held men to those standards? We as women know not every man is hot and well endowed. It takes getting to know someone to feel a spark of interest. What one person labels as not good looking is good looking to someone else. Love and sex takes time. Knowing this and respecting women is what makes a boy transform into a man.

*Pomplamoose

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Guest Post: Bippity, Bobbity, Boobies!

This guest post comes from a very awesome writer who blogs over at Times Like These and who’s a mom to such an adorable daughter, Charley. I’ve kinda become in awe of this great writer. She writes real, true, and honest…. the best way. Some great posts to check out: There’s no swagger in my wagon, but can I offer you a seashell? (best title evah), Sweet Dream Are Made Of… Irony, and Miniature Disasters and Tiny Catastrophes.

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From the moment my family saw the movie preview for Oz the Great and Powerful, plans for a movie night were made. The Wizard of Oz is one of my all time favorites. I still like it even after Charley Anne has watched it 1000 times and dressed like Dorothy this past Halloween and always demands I play the part of Wicked Witch when she acts out the movie. Yes, I am fully aware of the door I am leaving open by freely admitting to ‘acting’ the part of the witch. What can I say – the kid has great intuition. The movie proved to be fabulous. It was awesome and lived up to our expectations. Granted, our expectations are set pretty low by overexposure to all those stupid Barbie and the _____ movies (fill in the blank with any adjective-noun combination: Wicked Unicorn, Happy Hamster, Deadly Virus). Initially, my husband and I feared that Charley would be disappointed, or even worse – BORED, when she discovered it was not full of her familiar, favorite characters.

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My maternal instinct even kicked in (delayed  as usual) sometime during the previews as I considered how insanely horrifying modern cinematography and computer graphics could really make the those flying monkeys. This would obviously lead to my kid having some wicked nightmares (that would ultimately, and most importantly, affect my future sleep cycle). However, the kid never flinched. She was completely mesmerized and sat through the whole movie in complete awe. I was so impressed with her attention span as we chatted about the movie. We even held hands as we discussed characters and plot points. This beat the hell out of the last time we watched a movie together and it ended in sobbing as Charley flipped her shit when one of the Santa Buddies was temporarily paralyzed and the spirit of Christmas was compromised.

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Who the hell thinks of these kids’ films? As delighted as I was with Charley’s behavior, I was floored when, with one small question, a teachable moment presented itself. A night of entertainment and a life lesson with my kid? Pinch me, the teacher-person in me was dreaming. With wondrous innocence Charley asked, “Why did the witch with the red hat became so ugly and mean?” [She is referencing Theodora’s transformation from the innocent, kind sister into the classic wicked witch that we know from the originalWizard of Oz film]. A simple question to most people, but you need to first understand some background to know why I suddenly felt, for a small moment, I was starring in my very own Lifetime Original movie. For several months now we have had the overwhelming task of explaining inner vs. outer beauty to Charley.

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Last Spring she sat on the table in her gymnastics leotard, smacked her belly and asked me if she was fat -like the girl at school said she was. Shit. Shit. Shit. It’s way too soon for this. I suppressed my gut reaction to teach Charley to just start saying, “Your mom is fat” when she was confronted by rude, little demons. However, I decided to not screw up this moment – mostly because I teach middle school and have witnessed too many little girls with unnecessary body issues. Not to mention, there is no way I can afford the therapy later on if I really blow this. After a long sigh, deep breath and quick prayer – the best I could come up with was a small explanation about the meaning of the word “fat.  I ended up just emphasizing that, above all else, what counts is how beautiful a person’s heart is. Hokey and cliche, but she got it. We’ve since had many talks and reminders about the measure of beauty being in our hearts – with no help from Barbie, Bratz and all those damn princesses!

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OK, back to the Lifetime movie… I stood poised and ready to carefully guide Charley through this very real and timely connection to a really tough topic. While lights shone down from heaven and a piano played somewhere in the background, I squatted down with Charley and explained how Theodora lost her beauty and kindness only when her heart became evil and full of hate. With brilliance I effortlessly transitioned into addressing Glinda’s role and how caring and loving she was.

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The moment was glorious. It was the stuff mother-of-the-year awards are based on. My heart was full and I was already planning my outfit for the Parents magazine photo shoot. I brought our conversation to a close by asking Charley to recall what made Glinda so beautiful. I gently placed my hand on Charley’s heart and softly whispered, “So kiddo, what did Glinda have right here [tapping her heart] that made her such a beautiful person?” With no hesitation, my daughter raised her hands to her chest and replied with her sweet voice, “Her boobies hung out.” Dammit. You win again, Disney. *Music pick… Grace Potter And The Nocturnels… very cool.

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Guest Post: Five ways your weekend is different now that you have kids.

This guest post comes from Lori from Once Upon A Product… Stories of life, love, and makeup. I love when I come across a blog that’s so funny and original. No matter what Lori writes about, she keeps you smiling. Some other posts to check out…

Who Are You Wearing?!?! – School in the 80’s, gotta love the clothes… and wearing the boys. Frenemies – What do Nutella, Crunchy Cookie Butter, and Vodka have in common? Those bastards are so damn tempting! In Sync – When music and hot pink corsets collide.

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Before I had kids (two boys ages five and eight) a typical weekend was jammed packed full of parties/events/gatherings/things. Remember Friday afternoon happy hour? Remember concerts? What about brunch after rolling out of bed at 1:00 on Sunday afternoon? Remember brunch???

Yeah, that doesn’t really happen anymore. Because now, things are different.

Dining out is different.

I live in Portland Oregon, America’s foodie capital. In my twenties you would never find me at a chain restaurant – why would I go to Applebee’s or Chili’s when I could support one of the zillions of local, farm to table, delicious, organic restaurants available to me?

Now, on most Saturday nights you will find me out with my clan at Red Robin complaining like an old lady about how loud it is (why would you go there if you didn’t have kids? I see people on dates there and it’s so confusing) how nothing on the menu has any flavor, and how a chicken sandwich is a chicken sandwich, not a chicken burger. Jesus.

So. Not. A. Burger.

So. Not. A. Burger.

Sleeping in is different.

Saturday and Sunday morning used to mean waking up between ten and noon and as previously mentioned, going out to that brunch. My signature dish was a giant plate of biscuits and gravy, because I was all into my health and stuff.

Tomorrow, by seven at the latest, I will be bleary eyed sipping my coffee while constantly being told to “LOOK Mommy LOOK” at SpongeBob doing something funny, Fairly Odd Parents doing something annoying or talking to Dora (because nobody else in the room will do it) answering her question regarding what my favorite part of today is.
Answer: NOTHING.

'Eff you, Dora!

‘Eff you, Dora!

Drinking is different.

I used to love going out for a fancy drink. Give me the most foo-foo girly thing you got, with lots of cherries, pineapples and tiny umbrellas with extra sugar on the rim. I want a work of sweet, syrupy art going down my gullet. Bonus points to the bartender who has the pretentious giant square ice cubes or the little plastic monkeys.

Tonight, I will settle for some old airplane booze bottles that have been sitting in my freezer since the year of the flood. Either over ice or mixed with some grape Juicy Juice, garnished with an actual grape – if I can find one that’s not furry.

ouap-33

Date night is different.

On the off chance my husband and I do get out for a date night it always ends the same way. I know what you’re thinking, but you’re wrong. Yes we go out to dinner and have a few drinks. Then, we end up buzzed at where else, the worlds most romantic spot – TARGET.

We call it “Drunk Target” or “Tipsy Target” depending on how loopy we are. Because nothing caps off a special evening like stumbling down aisles under fluorescent light with a big red plastic cart to hold you up. I try on clothes, he looks at books and toys and we leave with Ziploc Bags and giant plastic Rubbermaid containers.

Plastic tub and a purple sweater with unicorns on it. STOP ME.

Plastic tub and a purple sweater with unicorns on it. STOP ME.

Movies are different.
I am an actor. I used to see every single movie that was up for an academy award religiously every year. Last year I saw one, Les Misérables. Oh wait, and BraveWreck It Ralph, and ParaNorman. That’s it. Lately I keep talking about how I’d like to see that “new movie” Silver Linings Playbook which I’m beginning to think isn’t ever going to happen.And yesterday I saw Snoop Dogg as a snail in Turbo, which made me pretty damn misérable.

Fo Shizzle.

Fo Shizzle.

And of course as cliché as it sounds, I wouldn’t change any of it for the world.
Well, maybe some of it. I mean, “for the world?”
I’d get out of eating bland chicken sandwiches and forced early morning conversation with Dora.
My airplane booze and my Drunk Target – I’m keeping those.
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~ Lori Ferraro is an actor, writer and author of the blog onceuponaproduct.com where she writes about her lifelong obsessions with make up, Mick Jagger and the 80’s, and her past obsessions with big hair and boys.
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