Mommy Developmental Markers: The kids are not the only thing growing

Just about every major milestone a woman can encounter in life involves vagina goo. We come into this world covered in it. Our first step into womenhood isn't a Bar Mitzvah party, no, it's our period. Losing our virginity is next. Getting knocked up for the first time, now that's life changing.  It is the circle of life we are talking about here, our vaginas are the circle of life. I don't understand why God isn't a woman, like you'd think all these savage men writing the Bible would be awe struck over our vaginal awesome, especially since we know which head they do most of their harder thinking with. I know. So much pun in one sentence. 

And with every milestone, every life altering event, follows a series of developmental phases… It's kind of like trees, where every year we drop some leaves, lay dead for a few months and resurrect with new green healthy leaves, except it's more like when a guy turns into a werewolf with the screaming and twitching and then the new him is covered in extra hairs he has no idea where they came from and it scares the ever living piss out of people, but now he can run faster and has super strength… And our growth too usually involves large quantities of goo, whether it be snot and tears, or toddler gifts.

So from that moment the goo covered pregnancy test comes out positive, growth takes on a new form.

Pregnancy  

While pregnant, we women experience the best PMS has to offer, for 9 months. Fits of rage, plots of murder, spontaneous sadness, incredible urges to eat everything, sporadic vomiting, waterfalls of tears over things like Oprah and Hallmark commercials, inappropriate joy... Through all that internal chaos, we are also coming to grips with the idea that we are going to be a mom. We have moments where we are excited about it, fearful, insecure, arrogant, at peace, worried… Like all the stages of grief except instead of it being about losing someone you love, it's about gaining someone you love. Some of us prepare like the ants in that story about the grasshopper, and we feel very confident we are ready for this baby. The money has been saved. The nursery has been painted. The bottles are in the cabinet. The diaper genie sits patiently by the changing table… Some of us don't prepare because life is not that easy where we can just shit money out of our vaginas like we can the expense… So we worry about it. We can't have this baby yet because there is no changing table to set the nonexistent diaper genie next to… Now if you are already a mom, you are laughing at this. Why? Because the next stage…

The Newborn Years

When I gave birth, I experienced all the emotions. It was like the PMS of pregnancy squashed into a matter of 4 hours. I think all women go through that, whether they opt for the epidural or not. I fully suggest the epidural if not for the awesome memory alone, but the memory will compete with holding the baby for the first time, because it is that awesome. Anyway, the developmental process doesn't happen at the hospital. That's just a vagina goo moment.

No, the newborn months of crazy is where the phases of growth hit you yet again. First you realize NOTHING can prepare you for motherhood. That's why mothers were laughing at the pregnancy stuff. The diaper genie collects dust. You end up changing diaper on the bed or something so you can sit down too for it. Why? Because your balance is way off from the sleep deprivation. The crazy of pregnancy is nothing compared to this. This is the craziest it's going to get… right? LOL. You realize your best friends, your husband, your family, useless. Nobody knows you anymore. The outside world is completely non-existent. It's just you and baby, like it's just you doing all the real work.  Everybody else is just telling you how to do it and you would do anything to shut them up, like your baby crying is a step up from everybody else's mouth. You are tired, worn out, and trying to heal on top of it. You look forward to that age where your kid sleeps all night like you are looking at the clock at a minimum wage job for the work day to end. You need a break. You need a friend. You need a shoulder to cry on. You need someone to take care of you while you take care of your baby.

The Toddler Years

If you are fortunate, by now you should be sleeping all night every night. Some parents, like myself, are not that lucky. You are finally excited that your kid is getting a little older to where he's not as needy. LOL wrong. The more your kid learns, the crazier it gets. Now they can do more than roll over and hold up their own bottle. Now they can get into things, all the things, and destroy things, all the things. The heirloom vase from your great grandmother, your favorite book, the furniture, any concept of organization… gone. GONE! Your sanity, even more gone. This is harder than the newborn years. It has to be the craziest things get. Right? So then you count down the time until we leave the terrible twos and find out there's the treacherous threes and fuck me sideways fours.

Meanwhile, you start teaching your kid the ABC's, the 123's, the circles, the squares, the color red… You as mom start doing that. You are no longer the crying newborn but a toddler figuring out the basics. You start to talk by learning to listen to your intuition and trusting your own judgment. You start to walk by figuring out how to keep the house clean enough and keep up with your child. You start to explore the world around you for what feels like the first time. You go outside once in a while and feel sunlight, and as you watch your child experience these joys, you have a new found appreciation for them. You realize what is red in your world and what is green, like the diet your family is going to eat, and how much tv you are going to let your child watch… You can read about that stuff all you want and make decisions before you have your child, but nothing is more decisive than the trial and error of experience.

During these years, you are actually crazy. You qualify for insanity under just about every criteria out there. It shows with your relationships. You think you found your real friends. The people who matter the most because they are the only people in your life. Your crazy has scared away everyone else. It's not really that you are crazy but your life is. It's actually normal to have hallucinations and an award winning bad personality when you haven't slept for 3 days. It's normal to get confused when you are distracted by kids. It's normal to put the dirty clothes in the toilet because it does have a lid like your hamper when your brain is tired. It's totally normal to forget you haven't showered in 3 days and put on a tank top on a hot day and showcase your armpit hairs to the world oblivious to your smell, when you are using all the hot water 24/7 to do laundry, dishes and keep your kids clean. Now you have decided it gets easier when they are in school…

The Grade School Years

The crazy just yet gets crazier, but by now, you are much stronger and it does get easier for that reason alone: you are getting stronger.  By now, you don't just walk, you can run and do cartwheels, metaphorically speaking. You have mastered telling people off, and you are now learning how to do it with grace as you deal with the school system. You have mastered cleaning and organizing toys (well you might, I have a learning disability when it comes to that part), and now you are learning how to organize a backpack, more specifically, the spelling words, the homework, the fundraiser papers, the party invites, the poorly written parenting magazines and nutrition articles… You got promoted from scheduling doctor appointments to scheduling after school activities.

You are now at the point where you join cliques like your children, like you can be June Cleaver popular mom who shows up with makeup and the expensive handbag bragging about how your kid pooped in the potty when he was 6 months old (no he was actually 2 but go ahead and brag away, people will fake believe you just as you fake believe their stories). Or you can be the rebel outcast mom who rocks the sweatpants and flicks your kid's booger you found on your shoulder onto the popular moms when they aren't looking. Or you could be healthnut mom discussing gluten free options for your kids and how vaccinations are destroying everyone… They are all cliques. It's not that one is wrong and the other right. They are just cliques like high school.

You also encounter playground bullying among the parents. This is when the other moms are telling you how you are doing it wrong, or how their life is harder than yours, and you back to them. The nicer ones do it in back handed compliments.  This is when you realize the schools hate you more as a parent than they ever did as a student, and you discover administrative bullying, especially if you got a kid with special needs. You are no longer alone. You are surrounded by frienemies. The wrong move could send your playground paradise packing to a new location. The queens of the slide monkey bars jungle gym rotate and some days, you are up there with them, and others you are in the sandbox playing with cat turds by yourself.

Meanwhile at home, you are still just as overwhelmed as you were with a newborn. We have replaced wiping asses with daily homework. We have replaced trying to figure out what your child's cry means with arguing with your child about what to wear to school. We have replaced folding the 7 onesies your baby went through in one day to folding the 7 princess outfits your child sported in dress up in one hour. Now, the kids don't nap, but they get hyper tired just the same, and school makes it worse, much worse. You know, the cracked out kid who found sugary pixie dust and is literally climbing the walls like a bad scene out of the exorcist. Yes. Yes that happens daily in this world. Your child still depends on you for entertainment and amusement. You have to now schedule in ACTIVE activities, even in the winter months when it's too cold to play outside, because if you don't, the house becomes the jungle gym and your cleaning becomes a much more active activity.

The Older Years

My oldest is 6. I'm not sure what to expect from the later years, but I will say this. I do know it gets harder. I know the crazy is going to get crazier. I hear parents of teens all the time say the toddler years were a breeze compared to the teenage ones.  I remember my tween years being the hardest of my childhood. Puberty definitely sounds like it's going to suck… And beyond the teenage years, I've seen parents of adults go crazy. Their kids moved out, and they are still losing their minds as parents.  So I definitely think the pregnancy equates a life sentence of insanity, one that is well worth it. 

I also have noticed with parents of older kids… the growth… we regress at some point… You know how when you were a baby and you came into this world? You remember it don't you? It was the biggest most important thing to happen to you in this life. You can't tell me you forgot? Yeah, it's like that. You will probably remember your baby coming into this world, but all the developmental shit you did during that time in your life, you will totally forget. It has to be true or women are bitches because I find it very hard to find parents whose kids are adults to empathize with parents like me whose kids are young. Only the ones who had more than 3 kids seem to remember enough to feel some sympathy. The consensus is still pretty much fuck you. So someday, I will be that woman. I will be chilling at a coffee house with my iced coffee sipping it out of a straw, and a woman is going to walk by with her 3 screaming insane toddlers, and I am going to be annoyed. I am going to jump on my high horse and be like, "I don't understand why you can't control your kids. I mean, it's not that hard. Everyone has kids and does it. You really should have just stayed home until they are not monsters like I did. I did it all. I cleaned and cooked and controlled my kids singlehandedly with zero problems, zero despair, zero depression..." Something I would never say at this point in my life. I'm sure I will be stupid and embarrass the me of now in the future. I'm sure I'll feel entitled to it as someone with seniority. All humans do this. There is such thing as selective forgetting, and I believe in selective memory just the same. We decide to our convenience what we remember to some point. In some people, it's more fairy tale than others, and in others, it's more accurate than fairy tale, but none of us remember with precision of reality.

In other moms, I have noticed they get a lot of things I would kill to have right now. A good night's rest. Naps, home alone with the kids and they get a nap. They get pissed if they have to tell their kids again not to bother them unless it's an emergency. I. Wish. They get to watch movies, with the kids, and the kids are quiet through the movie not asking them for juice every 5 seconds. They get dates with their kids, where they can go to restaurants and movie theaters. They can safely take their kids in public. They get manicures, and their nails don't turn to shit in one load of dishes because the kids did the dishes, sort of, last night. You would think with all those luxuries, they would have their sanity back. They don't.

I think the learning and stress on our "muscles" at this point become more spiritual and psychological, just like what our kids are facing as teens and young adults. They start off developing on a highly physical standpoint, and those years are highly physical on us moms. But as they mature, the developing takes on a new form, an abstract form, and as moms, so do ours. Now we have to deal with things like, "I hate you. I don't ever want to speak to you again." Now, instead of worrying about a kid falling from the top of a bookshelf or playing with knives, we worry about them running away or using drugs. Now, instead of worrying about them getting a boo boo from a bully like kid, we worry about their self esteems. Right now, I want to prepare for it. I want to read books. But I already know, it's impossible to prepare for parenting, no matter where you are with it.

I think we as moms are born again when we give birth, and we often take our new found childhood for granted. We can't wait to grow up, again. And we wonder again, what the hell were we thinking? Don't take this, wherever you are at, for granted. Embrace the learning process. Take comfort in knowing this is probably easier than what is coming. Don't let that scare you. Find comfort in the present. 

With that, very important side note, we see other moms in different phases of this development, and some of us expect them to be on our level, whether they are older or younger. It's really easy for a mom of a teen to have zero empathy for a mom of toddlers. It's just as easy for the mom of toddlers to have zero empathy for the mom of teens. We have to learn to respect each other's learning process no different than we respect the fact that some kids pee in the potty at an earlier age than others. Mom on mom bullying is a big subject now. It has to end. 

Fuck Bad Words, and the R-word it rode in on

I guess people are blogging about the R-word, and I had this in my notes as a blog to do eventually, so I guess now is a good time. I haven't read other people's blogs about the R-word because it usually pisses me off on many different levels.

Speaking

Notice I call it the R-word? That's because things like the R-word, the N-word, and the homosexual slurs are disrespectful to a lot of people. I prefer not to use them out of respect. If I were to use those words, I wouldn't be using them to piss people off. I'd be using them to communicate or try to be funny, and since there are people who lose the point when one of those words are used, or they lose all humor if one of those words are used, it would totally be anti-productive for my purpose to use those words. The purpose of language is to communicate, and that purpose is lost when certain words are used. If I did want to offend people, I really prefer my point I'm making offend them than my vocabulary, though I do use the fuck word a lot because it's fun to do. That's a different fucking blog post.

Anyway, I do believe in bad words, but differently than most people. You know how there's a difference between truth and the norm (majority rules)? For example, the earth is round. That's a truth. For many years, the fact is the earth was flat because that was the common belief. It was wrong, but it was right because everyone all agreed. 

To me, words are words. They have no soul, so they can't be good or bad. It's not the words, it's how you use them. That's the fact truth part. Then there's the part where the majority has decided otherwise on a somewhat ignorant level, but at least they usually have good intentions. Anyway, the majority has decided fuck is a bad word. Words like that, fuck shit ass… those are not bad words to me. They are naughty words, like farts. It's bad etiquette to use them in certain places at certain times. But now, because of this majority thing, there are words that are bad words. They are only used to demean people, like there isn't a good way to use those words because of the history of their use locked them in. At least fuck can be used as a good thing. I can say, "Mother fucker" to insult someone, but I can say, "Motherfucking awesome" to compliment someone.

There is no way to compliment someone when you use the following words…
 

Any racial slurs

Any homosexual slurs

The R-word
Fat

Listening

But, that whole concept is a double edged sword. Now, I may offend some people and for that I'm not sorry. Part of communicating is speaking, and I just discussed that. The other half of communication is listening. So how do you handle when someone else uses the R-word? Or any bad word for that matter?

Me, I look at their intentions. The context. Why?

A lot of times, people's definitions of the word is different than what it is, or what you think it is. For example, the n-bomb. It's a racial slur. A very bad one. Probably the worst word ever invented in the history of man. Look it up in the dictionary and it means ignorant. So some people use it to mean ignorant, which that's irony for you. Some subcultures have decided that it means trashy people of any race. They call white people the n-bomb, and they will point to a black man and say he is NOT the n-bomb in the same sentence. There are some people who use it as a way to take back the power, mainly black people (and white posers). Do I think they should be using that word? No, not in this world with that word's history. On another planet where it has no history, maybe, depending on the definition you give it.

But am I going to ostracize and criticize them for it's use? Depends, the intention. I do believe in God, and it's about what's in our hearts. Gotta look at the spirit and soul. Nothing physical can define morality. People try to. They try to make it tangible, and they lose a lot of the point of it in the process… The only black and white is in our hearts, not in our words or actions like most people believe (again truth vs fact).

What pisses me off with the r-word specifically… A, if you call a special needs person an R-word as a way to belittle or demean them, I'm going to be really pissed and I will hurt you one way or the other, whether it's your physical self or psychological self depending on how far you are from my reach. B, now the complicated part.

I have autism. My child has autism. We are both high functioning, which I hate that term, but anyway, that's us. People have called me the R-word because I'm weird. But I'm not an idiot. I know most of the population who uses the R-word use it to mean really stupid, low IQ that can result even with no diagnosis, and it generally has nothing to do with special needs or autism. I do not get offended when someone says, "That woman was so r-worded because she forgot the mayo." That has nothing to do with me or my autism.

What pisses me off is when people hide behind people like me to be mean to a stranger. I'm talking those situations where you are talking about the price of tea in China and someone says, "Wow, your husband did what with the tea? That is so r-word." Then out of the blue, Susie McJudgerson is on there clutching pearls damning someone to hell because they called my husband the r-word and somehow, with that, insulted Susie's kid, every special needs child, and all these people who were never part of the conversation or a subject in the conversation. It's like saying, "Fuck the man who was insulted, fuck his wife who is special needs. This is about me and my kid." I guess it's okay to call someone with autism an asshole as your means to advocate autism. See, that is DEFINITELY stupid and illogical and selfish.

Some of them then take it to the next step. They play the pity card. I mean we are talking a good cause here, and anyone who disagrees is insensitive, heartless and against the cause.
  

Criticizing people for shit they didn't actually mean is bullying. What happens is the social herding instinct comes into play with low attention spans and poor reading comprehension skills, and some level of laziness. If you criticize someone for insulting kids with special needs, everyone assumes that person just insulted someone with special needs, and the wolf pack preys on someone who never said anything about special needs.

Here's an EXTREME example to show how it works…

Erica: So I was thinking, now that Duke is dead, I have all this left over dog food. The humane society might take it. They could always use some extra food.

Susie: That is so fucked up Erica. How dare you? Do you know what the Humane Society does to these animals? They kill them, and that's after they torture them by putting them in these cages all day long. Sometimes the animals are actually abused beyond the regular neglect. That's just fucked up you'd donate to them.

Erica: Actually, I know someone at the Humane Society who is really good with animals, and they really do try to find homes for the animals so they don't have to euthanize them.

Susie: I can't believe you. Enabling that is the same as abuse. You are a dog abuser. I can't believe you don't care how they kill all those puppies with sad puppy faces. What did those dogs ever do to you?

Mildred: Hi guys. I'm too lazy to read all the comments, but wow. Erica really? You can go to hell and suck Satan's dick. The world would be a better place without animal abusers like you. You deserve ass fucked with a pitchfork fuck you. You are such an idiot. I'm going to punch you in the face if I ever see you.

Erica: Mildred really? Because I want to donate to the humane society. I miss my dead dog. I want to do something good for them. And Susie? You are insane. I don't enable dog abuse. I love dogs.

Mildred: So you killed your own dog? You are so fucked up.

Beatrice: Who killed their dog?

Mildred: Erica did. She is pro dog death. She's trying to say she's a good person because she donates to the humane society. Like that makes it okay.

Susie: Wow, Erica you are a real piece of work. Calling me insane after everything you just said. Look again hun. You are the insane one.

Mildred: She's fucked up is what she is.

In addition, the r-word doesn't refer to your kid or to me unless someone is calling us that word directly. To associate us to the r-word as a way to defend us is calling us the r-word. I don't think anyone realizes that when they do it, but seriously, how would you feel if every time someone used the word "idiot" I jumped them in how it insults all the mothers of special needs people. The parents of special needs people within an ear shot of that would be insulted if I did such a thing.  Same thing follows with the r-word. Unless they are talking about your kid, to make it about your kid is calling your kid the r-word. It's insulting.

I am a firm believer that criticism is a person not calling someone else out on something, but projecting their own insecurities, worries and fears (some valid and some not so valid)… Parents of special needs who insult people for using the r-word I think are insecure about their child's special needs, in a way they probably don't even notice. They worry so much about their child being called names for their situation...  It's common. It's natural. I know. I too am a parent of a kid with special needs. You don't think I don't do the same thing? 

I am probably most guilty with this over the word fat. Every time someone belittles a person for their weight, I see my child getting belittled, and all the sudden I'm holding her feelings right there in the palm of my hands and this person is spitting on them. To steal Insane in the Mom-brain's concept, it makes me sporky. But that's my issue. It's in my head, and it haunts me even when people don't insult people for their weight. And my issue is, I have to get over the fact that my daughter is a little overweight, and yes some people are going to call her fat, just like people call me fat. Anorexic people get called fat. Everybody gets called fat. Just because I worry it might be true for one of my kids doesn't make it about her every time someone talks about fat. This is my issue. It's my fears. It's my worries. 

So I don't ask you guys to just remove the R-word from your vocabulary, but remove it from communication. If someone uses it in a way to demean, have at it. Tear them a new one. I'll be cheering you on. But demeaning people for using the word who wasn't trying to demean anyone is using the word to demean. Reread that one slower, and then try to say it real fast five times. But it's true. If you are demeaning people, you are demeaning people. I don't care whose name you do it in, whether it's autism or God. If you want to help, if you want to advocate, uplift people. Promote acceptance and understanding when you see it lacking. Save the insults for people who are actually insulting and deserve it. 

I don't expect you to be Jesus Christ and approach everything with love. I'm just saying, don't use autism or any "disorder" to hate people on our behalf. Don't use us to call someone an idiot on our behalf. You are not doing us any service with that, not at all. Autism is not the R-word. SPECIAL NEEDS IS NOT THE R-WORD. Quit telling people we are on our behalf.

And if you are a parent of a child with special needs, go find yourself a therapist. It's a tough gig. You need a place to vent. The stress, the anxiety, the lack of time for yourself, the lack of sleep, the lack of any idea of decent hygiene.... shoot all parents should go see a therapist. I never felt like I had any special needs until I became a parent. 

 

A True Love Letter

Dear Prince Charming True Love Soul Mate guy:

I was waiting for you. I waited and waited and waited. Then my biological clock started ticking and I really was sick of being in a position where I might catch an STD just because I needed something to cuddle up to that night. I needed to settle down and do the family making thing. You were no where to be found outside of my dreams.

So, I married some guy. He was the best possible option made available to me in the history of my options. Deep down inside, he's a good guy. His parents are fucking crazy and I now have the worst possible scenario for in-laws, and his culture raised him to expect 1950's gender roles bull shit, but he lets me blog and blow copious amounts of money on Diet Coke. The best part is, we reproduced. We now have little spawns who never would have existed had I not settled for Adele's "Someone Like You."

So here I am trying to enjoy my "This will do" ever after, but I can't. Nope. Destiny. Soul Mates. Blah blah blah. I keep diving down that hole chasing a white rabbit with a clock bitching about being late. The problem is, that world may or may not exist. That world might be my own insanity. That world, things don't make sense. Meanwhile, I'm sleeping through this world who will never measure up to Wonderland.

I am having dreams about you, all the time. I can't forget you. My sleep won't let me. Then I wake up and try to make sense of things like most people do. Between God, astrological charts, dream interpretation, The Magic 8 Ball, and so forth, everything tells me to have faith, leaving me wishing and hoping you will come swoop me off my feet out of this life I settled for and give me the life I dreamed of, the one we were "destined" for... I've decided to drop the faith.

I decided that you are nothing more than an illusion fabricated by my insanity and needs and wants and desires and Freudian stuff. You don't exist. You never have. Real romance is not Disney's Cinderella. It's Voltaire's Candide. It's a story about a young optimistic person who endures reality. Life broke his dreams. He didn't get to enjoy his true love until after she was old, ugly, and scarred from her life, and by then, there was nothing left to enjoy. All they could do is find peace in boring life things and the company.

That's where I'm at. I'm not with that true love dream I had. I'm with this husband guy instead. Life did a number to him much like it did with me, and we are at the part of the fairy tale where we just learn to be content with mundane tasks like the dishes.

Just because I am rejecting True Love Faith and have decided you are an illusion, that doesn't mean I'm totally rejecting you. If you really are out there, when you decide to grace my life with your presence, I'm all about happily ever after. I'll be your down ass bitch then. But until then, I have to exchange some of the intangibles for the tangible.

No matter the Destiny, free will is a bitch, and we both married the bitch. May God protect you and may you live, laugh and love and all that jive. Peace out I'm doing laundry.

Sincerely,

Alice Not In Wonderland

Roundhouse Bitch

Why Sylvester Stallone should choose me to play the role of his girlfriend in the next Expendables if they do another one, which they should:

1.  My father raised me to watch movies like Rocky, Rambo, Cobra, Tango and Cash... as well as Invasion USA, Delta Force, Missing in Action... and the Die Hards (and everything Bruce Willis was in including Breakfast of Champions which I didn't understand at all because I don't smoke crack), and whatever movies Van Damme was in including Bloodsport. I've probably seen all those movies at least 100 times.

Here we are about to kiss... look at the chemistry!!!

2.  I keep having a recurring dream where I'm the love object of the next Expendables, and my dreams are usually psychic.

3.  I also had a dream where I was on a date with Sylvester Stallone. I was like, "You want to watch a movie?" and he was like, "Anything but Rocky," and I was like, "How about Rambo?" He was like, "I'm going to the kitchen." So I go in to the kitchen with him, we both grab for the same knife at the same time and we kiss. It was awkward because I thought I was too inexperienced for him, so now I have to kiss him in real life to prove to him I am not too inexperienced, I know what I'm doing, and it's the best gotdammed kiss he'll ever have in his whole freaking life.

4.  I'm funny. In the dream I just had, Sylvester was like, "Honey, this might get dangerous," and I was like, "Please, I have children, nothing scares me." And, there was a part where Bruce Willis was like, "If you fuck up this job, I'm going to find you, beat you to death, and then I'm going to resuscitate you back to life so I can kill you again." And I was like, "Or even worse, I'll have you babysit my kids and I'll send them to YOUR place with legos, whistles, glitter and silly string right after feeding them Cajun food with beans and fun dip." We could even use one of my kids' dirty diapers as a weapon.

5.  I'll surprise dry hump Bruce Willis when he isn't looking.

6.  My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard. I have nice boobs. I mean that's important considering the target market. Apparently, these puppies were famous in high school. I had no idea until dudes 20 years later started telling me about them on Facebook (as well as some random dudes at the grocery store). I stare at them a lot in the mirror, but for many years, I thought that was just me being vain.

7.  I kind of look like Adrian. Not really, but I have brown hair and can be a total hottie nerd.

8.  I am an Air Force veteran (cough cough like Chuck Norris). I don't have to fake the PTSD part of my character, and I can do my owns stun... well I can aggressively file paperwork. There's a script isn't there? That's paperwork. I'll rock it.

9.  I'm double jointed, meaning I can do some cool kicks and splits and stuff. Wait a minute, this is me trying to be a girlfriend in a movie, not real life, well disregard.

10.  I cried during Rambo II (the speech at the end) and Chuck Norris's Delta Force 1 (the part with the cheesy music, wait, should be more specific huh, where the Jews get called to the front of the plane, the concentration camp tattoo, the woman who reminds me of my grandma, the cabbage patch doll, the priest...) Rambo II, tears. Uncontrollable tears. Especially when I was pregnant. BUT I didn't cry during the Titanic or the Notebook. I did cry over an episode of Oprah once, but in my defense, I was pregnant and ate an entire pie in one sitting.

11.  My father might actually come back from the grave to see it.

12.  I took down a Marine once, and it's quite possible I'm the only Air Force chick that has managed to do such a thing. I actually did some Jet Li moves I think when I did, like I flipped off this table and everything. All the other Marines were calling me Devil Dog. Basically, I'm a bad ass in real life too. Just don't ask me to do it again because I don't think I can.

13.  I have Rocky's theme song and Eye of the Tiger as top plays when working out.

14.  I am a rebel type, but in a mainstream sheeple sort of way, like in high school, people thought I was kissing a teacher's ass all morning during announcements, but really what happened was the teacher caught me and my friend sneaking liquor in our coffee and instead of being all "you are expelled," he was all, "let me have some." Then somehow, it accidentally became a morning ritual for us. I listen to Metallica and Ice Cube. That's rebel.

15.  I am a bitch. This makes for a great character who kills people. The meanest people I have ever in my life encountered, I mean meaner than drill sergeants and high-maintenance girl bullies, meaner than the 1976 Steeler's Defense, the meanest people I have ever had the pleasure to do business with, the public school administration and the PTA. Let's just say, they fear me. Like one time, there was a "fundraiser," which is a word the PTA uses for whoring out children into selling overpriced junk and compete like used car salesmen for time at the bouncy party. My child's PTA had it set up, you had to sell one item to get a half hour at the party, 10 items to attend the entire party. We are talking 600 children sharing one bouncy thing. I objected to it. Called it child abuse. Told them my kid will be at Chuck E. Cheese that day and the absence will be excused without a doctor's or parent's note. So, they decided to let my child's class have a couple hours on the bouncy thing when nobody else was using it, the whole class, including those who didn't sell one item... all because I'm not just a bitch, but I'm queen bitch. You should see me own the parking lot during the after school cluster fuck of chaos.

16.  I have a thing for pilots. Sylvester is a pilot in the movie. eHarmony couldn't do a better job.

17.  I know the age thing might be an issue, but the important thing is Sylvester Stallone aged well, and I haven't, so we look the same age. He's also younger than my father, barely, and that's what matters.

This is a picture of the first time
I never met him.

18.  I'm a libra. Nuff said.

19.  I know how to get my own coffee, so that's like money saved on assistants and shit.

20.  I will do it for almost free, like almost free means paying for the travel and partial living expenses (a nanny) and Chuck Norris shows me how to do the roundhouse kick, without killing me in the process. Ok, Chuck doesn't have to show me any secrets. I really just want a kissing scene with Sylvester (I have something to prove, see #3).

21.  I'm not an actress and I have stage fright.

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I'd also like to request that my character spits on people's foreheads before she kills them like the Outlaw Jose Wales, but since I can't spit without dribbling all over myself, we'll have to get a stunt double for the spitting.

I also require Peanut Butter to be present in my trailer because the Beach Boys require such a thing in theirs, and the Beach Boys are awesome. And how do I know this about the peanut butter? Play the video...

Rumor Has It...

I'm probably one of the very few people who really enjoy listening to rumors about myself. I really do, and the more negative it is, the funnier it is. I really find it amusing. Now in my Darth Vader voice, I do find the lack of creativity disturbing. While sleeping with the entire College I attended football team was pretty creative, as if that many men really want to sleep with me, I haven't seen that level of creativity since 1997.

Actually, instead, I've heard the stuff I list first here. Most of the time, the rumors aren't worded so nicely, but since I'm not a fan of racial slurs, I'll translate into non-asshole. 

Distinguishing fact from fiction...

Whore -- False
Slut, maybe.
Porn star... there you go.

Is a bad parent -- False
Neglects and Abuses her children -- VERY FUCKING FALSE
Sold her children to the Lollipop Guild for 2 Hershey Kisses... There you go.

Smokes crack -- False
Dyes her crack green for St. Paddy's Day, hmmm, that was actually someone else and trying to claim it would infringe on that girl's intellectual property.
Married into the Mexican Drug Cartel and is now the new Godfather... there you go.

Loves black people --- True
Will only sleep with black people, ummm I really don't care what color you are.
Is black and has applied 27 times to be Obama's "intern"... there you go.

Loves gay people --- True
Is gay, doubt it.
Slept with the entire college cheerleading squad taking away the virginity of 5 chipper blond girls and is the reason Ellen now likes women and inspired the song, "I kissed a girl and I liked it."... there you go.

Quick to fly off the handle -- True
Gets into a lot of bar fights, debatable.
Interned with the CIA as an assassin and retired to be a mercenary after taking out Jason Bourne... there you go.

Is crazy-- True.
Is psychotically dangerous, probably not.
Was kidnapped by science and became a subject for what was later known as Experiment 626 where brain surgery was involved and then was abducted by aliens and formed an emotional bond with the alien sociopath (Bob) completely responsible for 90% of our earthly conspiracy theories... there you go.

Is a broke ass bitch -- Depends on the day.
Never had a job and always depended on the system -- Sorry, very wrong. Actually I have a better resume than all the people who came up with this one, which is actually very sad on their part.
Used so much welfare that it knocked the American Economy into one of the biggest recessions ever and then got elected into Congress... there you go.

Don't forget to lie through your teeth and tell everyone I look fabulous.

BTW, these are all things I was thinking about telling people I did for a living at my High School reunion had we actually had one, except I was going to say that I interned with Bill Clinton and Monica was my scapegoat for that scenario had I gone with it, but I probably would have gone with the assassin one.

Secrets to my Sexy

I think the sexiest thing about me is me. I know me. I love me. I am very comfortable with who I am and how I look. I wish this for all women. So here's some things I do that helps me do this, and I do these things religiously, like daily, like they are all parts of my life because they are things I do to maintain a healthy relationship with my self.

Dance

I dance all the time, especially nekkid in front of the mirror. There's just something empowering about it, but also it's like you release a lot of negative vibes with dance. I shake my booty in front of public cameras, and sometimes my boobs which I usually refer to as a milk shake, not to be confused with MY milk shake which is more like my sexy/my swag/my ambiance. When I walk around the house nekkid for any reason, I often do a milk shake in front of windows, just in case there's a stalker you never know. The husband, he gets free random lap dances, and most of the time, they are no where near normal expectations of sexy, yet somehow I'm still sexy through it all. The kids, we break out into dance all the time. It's important they learn how to dance anyway. Driving, best believe I'm dancing, and if the radio is broke, I'm probably singing badly and dancing to it or rapping badly and dancing to it (like I end up sounding less like Tupac and more like Dr. Seuss when I try to rap). If you don't believe me about dance, ELLEN. I'm no where near a lesbian, but I think Ellen is sexy because of the way she carries herself, like I would enjoy dry humping her and the enjoyment would probably be more awkward to me than actually dry humping her.

Mirror Talk/Real Talk

This is important. It really is. You can stare at yourself naked in the mirror thinking, "oh, I'm fat. Look at those wrinkles. My hair is limp. Stretchmarks. Eww what the hell is that? A new mole?" OR you can stare at yourself nekkid and say, "Watch me make my fat jiggle when I move my ass like this. Ha ha, it's kind of sexy when it does that. I wonder if I can make my booty clap. Hmm, need to work on that. Let's try this move... oooh, my boobs are flying. If they were any bigger, that might hurt. Now that I think about it, they are kind of perky. Gotta touch the nipples. Oooh new song. I don't want anybody else. When I think about me I touch myself... Oh that's not a bad move. Drop it like it's hot. Can't touch this. STOP, yeah, I'm a sexy beast." Doing this every time you shower, in a month, you will be so comfortable with your own body as well as increase your awesome dance moves because now you know how you really look and was able to tweak some shit, and watch out world, now you have been practicing.

Music

Music is an art, an expression, and a way to brainwash yourself. You listen to depressing shit when you are depressed right? Well I get depressed when I listen to depressing shit just the same. I tend to try to listen to more positive, empowering soul food type stuff just because I find it inspirational and it does play a role in molding me into a person I want to be. See this post for the type of stuff I make sure is in every play list, and you can shake your booty to it. Watch the women in the videos to see how.

Talk to Yourself

I not only talk to myself, but I argue with myself, and sometimes we just have meetings, which is cool because I ALWAYS get to be leader. Yes people think I'm crazy, but they will think whatever they think regardless. But really, I get to know myself. I communicate with myself. They say communication is important in any relationship, well that includes the relationship you have with yourself. Sometimes I look in the mirror to talk to myself and establish eye contact and stuff. Kind of weird sometimes because I get distracted by my sexy eyes and then I go down that path where I wish I could so clone myself. But I talk about things from what I'm doing right now to help me concentrate, what I need to do to help me focus, and things like where I delve into the meaning of life, my purpose in this life, my role as a mom, what I want to start working on or improving, my goals, my dreams, my problems, people I think are hot... Things you talk about with anyone important in your life.

Prayer

This goes with talking to myself, but adding God to the conversation means you shut the hell up once in a while and listen. That's easier said than done. God is one of the hardest people/entities to listen to because He doesn't  use words. He requires us to open parts of ourselves that we don't open for anyone else. The easiest way to know God is to do the right thing, and as you do that, you can more easily recognize Him when He's speaking to you, and with that, learn how to open yourself up more to Him. This goes for anyone of any religion, and you have to legitimately do the right thing, not pretend to. There are atheists out there who probably speak to God daily and have no idea. They've just labeled Him as something else other than God.

Think of Yourself during Foreplay

Or when you masturbate... I had to put this after Prayer just for the juxtaposition. Anyway, when you are getting hot and heavy sexually, don't think about other men or women, or porn... Think about your body. Look at your body. Watch the lady parts bloom, you know what I mean. Get a mirror involved. You notice how some people in the more adult groups/forums/social networking tend to really enjoy posting pics of their own privates? There's a reason for that. They are embarking upon finding themselves sexy, sometimes looking for someone to agree with them. You don't need people to agree with you. If you can turn yourself on with yourself, there's no need for any confirmation or reaffirmation. Posting your pics somewhere is then a charity. You can take it to the next level and really enjoy pleasing your lover with your sexy. Don't make it a job. Strike a pose when doing the nasty, and watch them enjoy you, all of you, while laid bare. You can knock this mentality all you want, but this is one subject I'm actually very good at. If only it could be a career without it being illegal or deadly... Now I'm back down that disturbing, disappointing path of wanting to clone myself.