52 Weeks Of Photos ~2016~ Week 31

13

‘Venom’ Self-Portrait

The theme for my week 31 image was ‘Smoke’.

A few things happened this month.  I turned 42 on the 10th, and also this month marks the 10th anniversary of when I quit smoking.  Prior to that I smoked for almost 19 years, if you are good with math you’ll figure out that I started when I was 13 years old, you know…because I was cool.

I’d like to go back and kick my 13 year old ass. Now that I have a 13 year old daughter I find myself doing that thing, you know the thing, the thing that all parents do, try to save your kid from making all the same mistakes you made as an adolescent.

I’d like to think I have a great relationship with my 13 year old, we joke around a lot and have an open line of communication. No topic is off limits.

Most days when she’s leaving the house I give her a hug and add, “I love you, don’t do drugs, drink, smoke, or have sex. Have a great day!”  She rolls her eyes while laughing (in my head she’s laughing, it’s mostly eye rolls), and I giggle just hoping that what I say will stick with her.

I think I’m doing alright though. To take this photo I needed to have smoke. I asked my husband to stop at the store and get me some type of E-cig, or like the cool kids call it ‘vape’, or is it ‘vaper’? Shit, I’m so not cool anymore. My daughter was with with my husband when he went to purchase some, she was worried that this would be my gateway to smoking again.  The fact that she was so disgusted with the idea of smoking brings me some comfort.  For now I’m pretty confident she’s not interested in lighting up, chances are she feels the same way about drugs too.

I’m always preaching about how drugs, drinking, and smoking can mess you up, especially at her age. Now…as for the sex part, I have nothing bad to say about sex. Sex is amazing!!! Just not when you are 13! lol

“Type hard, like you mean it!”

Advertisements

Leave me alone! The perfect Mother’s Day Gift.

mr.jpg

“Happily Ever After” Self-Portrait with my two youngest.

What do you want for Mother’s Day?

I want to be left alone. Yes, that does sound selfish, and it is… a little bit, but it’s the truth. What I need though…is a day, a day where I’m not needed. A day to myself, to do whatever I want. Even if that means sleeping until noon, not brushing my teeth, and eating cupcakes for dinner. I want to pee without having a conversation through the door, or better yet… without my kids watching me because they have to be in there with me. I want to grab a snack without having to sneak it or share it. I want to watch T.V., and not only watch it, but hear it. I don’t need to be taken out for dinner. That is not relaxing at all.

“Where’s my food?”

“I’m hungry”

“I want what she has.”

“I need to go potty.”

“She’s kicking me.”

“What’s that?”

“Can I have a bite?”

“I’m not hungry.”

Sigh……..

Please…. leave me alone! I love you all, but go!

I feel guilty saying that I want to be left alone, it sounds as if I don’t love my children, which is not the case at all.

For me, Mother’s Day has always been about the kids though. “What can we do that they’d enjoy?” I know they feel good when they make something for me, get me a gift, or take me out.  Which is why I will sit back, smile, and accept everything that comes my way on Mother’s Day like I do every year. Maybe that makes me a good mom. Maybe that makes me an idiot.

FullSizeRender(2)

Mother’s Day 2014, because ‘Rainforest Cafe’ is for me. Not!

To all the mom’s out there who make sacrifices day in and day out, you guys rock!

Happy Mother’s Day!

If you know anyone that can relate, please share this post, and give them a hug, or some wine…or Vodka. Yeah, screw the hug, wine and Vodka makes more sense.

“Type hard. Like you mean it!”

 

 

Par-ent-hood: a sexually transmitted disease

 

parenthood

Definition: Par-ent-hood  noun

A sexually transmitted disease caused by the inability to think straight during throes of passion.  An infection of sorts, causing lifelong trauma to the human psyche.

While there is no immediate cure, studies have found that Parenthood will often come to a halt after years of pain and suffering, finally ending with ones own sweet, sweet death.  The journey to this recovery is a long drawn out process, one to which you will experience the following symptoms:

Bleeding from ears

Constant ringing sounds

Heightened sensitivity to clutter

Claustrophobia

Lack of personal space

Loss of breathe

Bouts of fury and rage

Heart palpitations

Elevated stress levels

Migraine headaches

Hair loss

Bleeding tongue

Monetary limitations

While some symptoms are more severe than others, be cautioned.  Moments of euphoria will occur from time to time, giving the illusion and false pretense that contracting the disease was well worth it.  One might notice moments of euphoria in the lives of others with this disease and be led to believe that Parenthood is in fact not as severe as it sounds.  Don’t be blinded by the hype.  For every euphoric moment, a double dose of what the fuck will immediately follow.

Please be informed and make educated decisions to prevent contracting this life debilitating disease.  Precautions that one could take to help keep Parenthood at bay, include but are not limited to:

Abstinence

Removal of libido

Masturbation as the only form of pleasure

Double bagging it

Suicide

Examples:

Sally was an active member of society until she contracted Parenthood and died a miserable death.

You seem so happy not being able to do everything you wanted to do in life, way to control your Parenthood!

PARENTHOOD:

Some days I am faced with two choices : Laugh or Cry, today I chose laugh.  I truly do love being a mother.  Believe it or not, my kids were all planned pregnancies.  That’s right, I did this to myself (well, my hubby helped), but I do question why some days.  Not in a serious “why” way, but more of a joking, ha ha, I’m losing my fucking mind kind of way.

Being a mom was my big goal, my aspiration in life.  Some people might think that’s crazy, let’s face it, just about any woman can get knocked up.  I didn’t dream of going to college and working my way up some corporate ladder though.  I had dreams of being home with kids.  Of course the home in my dreams had unicorn riding fairies that would come in and keep things neat and tidy, while the little leprechauns, wait, not leprechauns- those fuckers creep me out.  While little trolls, wizards, magicians, elves filled the house with laughter and joy.  That’s the type of stupid shit you dream of before you have kids.  I know now that it’s not fairies and elves, but more like a tutu wearing, PMS suffering Satan on a mission to reek havoc by creating loud constant shrieking.  Like the “most annoying sound in the world” from ‘Dumb and Dumber’, only more annoying and less funny.  Even with all that said, I do love being a mom.  Parenthood is one of the best things to have happened in my life.  Without it, I would probably be somewhere sipping Mimosas poolside while mute men rub me down and feed me grapes, who the fuck wants that? or I could have ended up in a dead end job, doing the same thing day in and day out, wishing for more out of life.  That would more likely have been the case.  Either way– I love my job!  I love my job! I love my job!  If you say it enough, you start to believe it.

“Type hard. Like you mean it!”

Be grateful

 

Just a message to be grateful for the time you have with your children, it could end any minute. 

This morning I was getting annoyed about a comment my daughter made while we were waiting at the bus stop.   She told me “don’t come into my class when you pick me up”, because it would embarrass her.  She usually takes the bus home, today she had a doctors appointment so I would have to go to the school to get her.  After she got on the bus and left for the day, I just started getting more and more irritated by the remark.  First of all, I’m a pretty cool mom, I mean look at the shit I talk about, right? 

I admit, I do try to embarrass her on purpose.  It’s fun and easy to do. I don’t need an excuse, I’m the mom—-that’s why.

Anyway, while I was stewing I realize that tomorrow my daughter would be 11 years old and 17 days.  I know that doesn’t sound like anything significant to you, but to me; that’s how old my brother was when he died, exactly 11 years old and 17 days.  I was young when it happened, and as much as I remember the day, I am grateful that I couldn’t comprehend what was going on at the time.  The thought brought tears to my eyes, I can’t even imagine what it would be like to lose a child.  I have no doubt that my mother would go through years of being ‘annoyed’ just to have my brother back in her life.  So I decided to just let the comment slide off my back, because if something were to happen to my daughter I wouldn’t want my last thoughts to be filled with irritation.  The remark was trivial on the scale of things.  So when I picked her up from school, I gave her a hug….but not in front of anyone like I normally would have done to embarrass her.

Choose your battles and make sure they are worth it.

“Type hard! Like you mean it!”