In Support of Madlyn Primoff

If I could get away with shouting this, I would. I'll lay off the caps though. The Mother posted a great article 'In Support of Madlyn Primoff' yesterday. I asked her if I could link to it and post with the same title. It would be absolutely awesome if blog posts with this title started showing up everywhere.

If you are thinking - who the heck is this Primoff lady? What are you talking about? Here are some examples of the LAME-ASS headlines from the last couple of days:

Mother Dumps Kids by Roadside.... ABC7.com
Bickering kids land mother in jail... TVNZ
Mom kicks bickering daughters out of car, drives away... Dayton Daily News
Madlyn Primoff kicks her children out of car, drives off... The Star-Ledger - NJ.com
Madlyn Primoff Incident: When Parents Reach the End of Their Ropes... Wall Street Journal Blogs
Prominent lawyer busted for leaving kids... ABC7.com

Good gawd people! Really?

The Mother points out that we do not, I repeat, DO NOT, have all the details. The MEDIA has fed us whatever little nugget they think they have, blow up to whatever proportion they think will sell their papers/blogs/newscasts. Seriously, look at it as you should look at everything...what are they trying to sell me? This woman is being vilified all over the place with little to no facts released and more importantly NO STATEMENT FROM HER. Which probably won't happen because now she's a fucking criminal. ARGH.

Here is an excerpt from an article about the reaction to Ms. Primoff from Free Range Kids:
"...Naturally, I do not think that this mom handled her kids in a truly optimal way. But most of us have days when we don’t. That doesn’t make us criminal parents. It makes us human parents. And kids are built to live with humans, not Robo-Mama."

And most importantly, what I hope is addressed here is the culture of fear we are creating by listening and reacting to the media in a way that makes it near to impossible to get back to working as a community to be parents and raise independent and healthy children who know discipline and reap the benefits of parents who use it wisely.

I've a Feeling We're Not in Kansas Any More

The sky is falling! The sky is falling!!!!

No, it's just that my husband has officially become a casualty of the economy. As of Monday we are a NO income family. Yikes.

In my inane optimism I feel like it will all work out. Well, it doesn't take optimism to know that, really. I mean the sky isn't really falling, right? We will land where we land in the end.

So, this is how I handle these things. We talked to the kids on Monday. Explained that things were getting cut back ASAP. That this will probably not last long, but has the potential to hoist a lot of change upon or little land. And then, I, in my patented coping process of flinging sarcasm around freely, proceed to use every opportunity to exploit the situation. It's totally freaking husband out, but it has been entertaining me. Here's a typical exchange over the last 2 days:

One of the girls: Mom, I have to go potty.
Me: Ok, but go light on the TP we can't afford a plumber if the toilet gets clogged. [yelling at retreating child] On second thought, if you are going to wash your hands anyway, just use them.

Girls: Mom, what's for dinner?
Me: Well, in light of recent events, I think we will be catching crawdads for dinner tonight. Get your overalls on girls!

Girls: Mom, can I get a new shirt that looks like hers?
Me: Sure. Why don't you make a sign that says something along the lines of "need money for a new shirt like hers" and I'll drop you off in front of Target.

Me: [630pm] Time for bed!
Girls: What? It's still light out!
Me: Well, in an effort to conserve, and save the polar bears, I have removed all light bulbs. This means you best be in bed before sundown or you'll have to contend with the DARK.

See? I AM an optimist and in a sick and twisted way, I'm totally enjoying this.

- and just in case you are all "oh no, she'll freak the kids out..." they are totally rolling their eyes at me. My poor husband may not survive my sarcastic onslaught, but they will.

Judy Blume - Curse You!

I was negotiating or discussing or whatever, sending my 10 year old out to The Mother so she could have some pretend mother/daughter experiences. Like watching 'Mama Mia!' or painting toe nails or some estrogen filled crap like that that she totally missed out on, having birthed only boys. I mentioned that now would be a god time because she has gotten a hold of Judy Blume and is all up in my grill with questions about divorce and puberty, some of Ms. Blume's favorite topics.

The Mother was all, who's Judy Blume? I was like, hahaha. I mean, who doesn't know who Judy Blume is? Then she was like, you really aren't going to tell me, are you? Wow. I filled her in.

I told her about how she wrote books like, "Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret. " or "It's Not the End of the World " which made her really famous. How those books talk about girls hitting puberty but they also talk a lot about divorce. I think that was a huge topic that hadn't been brought down to the kids level yet. She also wrote the fun 'Super Fudge' books AND some naughty books for the big girls like, "Wifey" and "Summer Sisters."

So, I'm like totally excited that my girl, MY GIRL, is reading the books that I read as a girl. We can share. We can talk. BOND. Right. Actually, here is where my darling 10 year old, who is a MAJOR worry wort, starts reading these books that describe divorcing parents as fighting or not talking to each other and suddenly is suspicious of EVERY SINGLE MOVE my husband and I make. I'm getting grilled left and right about divorce. Then she starts in on the books about puberty. I'm fine with this line of discussion, but the kid must be thinking about it 24/7 because every single time we get a moment alone she is asking me some question..."Does it hurt to have your period?" or "How will I know when I have to wear a bra?" or "Did you use a tampon when you got your period?" Geesh kid. How about we talk about those Polar Bears you were so worried about? How about you run along and play on that swing set like a cute LITTLE GIRL?! And no, Dad and I are NOT getting a divorce. Be worried if I start digging a hole for a pool though.

Interview With A Mother

The chick who is putting together THE Mother's Handbook. Who has survived medical school AND raising 4 boys. Who's site, The Mother's Handbook, can offer you sound advice about anyone in your life who is making you miserable. Has sent me an interview that will either make you love me more or send you scurrying off never to be heard from again...

She called it, Interview With A Mother.

What is the weirdest thing you have ever done with duct tape?
You know it makes good handcuffs, right? But maybe the weirdest was when, being a flat chested Betty, I needed some good cleavage for a costume and I vaguely remembered reading that beauty pageant gals use duct tape for lift. Indeed, I took a long piece and taped my cute little tatas (this was before children when they were less platypus like) together. Let's just say that direct contact with sensitive skin and duct tape is not recommended.

10 year old says it was when I patched up her shoe where her big toe was hanging out and made her wear them forever because I couldn't get to a store. Which is surprising because she always tells the 5 year old the story about how I once duct taped her fork to her hand for the rest of our meal after she had dropped it 10 times in 2 minutes - with food on it!

If you could have one superpower, which one would you choose, and why? (and you can't cheat and use Sylar powers, either)
I should probably choose something like - to heal the wounded. But, man, would I like to fly.

What talent or skill do have that you would have to hide from the PTA (if you indeed belonged to the PTA)?
That I know anything, ANYTHING about tech support or web development. Heck, I keep that from most of my neighbors.

How did you meet your husband?
We met at Kmart. Technically we were both working at Kmart - in Humboldt County. Let me tell you, there is NOTHING worse than a discount store in a depressed community. Seriously, people just pop in to use the deodorant and then put it BACK ON THE SHELVES. Also, the boss liked to tell the story about a very large Samoan woman trying to shop lift a TELEVISION by hiding it BETWEEN HER THIGHS. She almost got out the door. True story. Yikes.

Anyway, I walked into the break room one day to get something out of my locker only to find my EX-boyfriend had left his shit in there AGAIN. His shit included a can of pringles. I picked up the can and dropped it and then proceeded to kick it all around the break room and gingerly replace it back into MY locker. I didn't know husband at the time so I didn't even acknowledge that he was sitting there during the whole thing just watching me. I walked out and the ex walked in to retrieve his pringles and was all, WTF? Darling husband never said a word. When I was introduced to him later on he said, "Nice work with the pringles."

Tell us one fact about him that explains why you haven't divorced his ass.
He looks hot on his motorcycle and can debate philosophical shit that I can't even wrap my brain around.

You have girls, which is a total trip for me. What career path would you just DIE if they chose?
Okay, you might think I'd say pole dancer, but really, I don't know if I'd have as much of a problem with that as I would if they decided to become corporate money grubbers who didn't give a shit about anyone or anything but themselves and their own bankroll. Really, they could do anything else and I'd be able to handle it - as long as they were happy.

If we follow the rules, I get to interview any of my readers that dare to ask. Muwahahaha...

Leave a comment telling me that you’re into the interview. I’ll email you the questions, you post the answers on your blog, and then you have to offer to interview YOUR readers.

Let's get to it.

P.S. Here is The Mother's interview - good stuff!

Food For Thought

I'm ripping off someone else's hard work today. Mostly because my comment was practically a blog post in and of itself. I feel bad about that.

So here is an exceptionally eloquent post about simply being aware of the consequences of our food choices from Brian at Eat Me California.

Now, I don't really know these guys, but I like their blog. In fact, they might not even have kids. For all I know they could be selling small children on the side to pay for their very extravagant, eating out 3 times a day, lifestyles. Also, I think Brian might have been intoxicated when he wrote this because it was supposed to be a post about his visit to the pinnacle of steak excellence, Ruth's Chris, but it really doesn't matter as his passion shines through. Though I still want that review...

And don't let this post fool you, normally they are macking down on good stuff like Mexican food or omlettes and giving us all the gory details. And when I say gory, think - long gray hair, in your breakfast.

If you care, my ramblings can be found somewhere in the comments.

Pictures of Us

One baby with a huge, bruised goose egg on her forehead from throwing her unstable body at the corner of the bathtub. Repeatedly.

A week camping trip with an infant and a 6 year old and the following supplies: one crazy mom, a flat of top ramen, instant oatmeal, a tent, 3 styrofoam cups, a couple of sleeping bags, one burner, one pot, two plastic spoons and one bag of clothes.

Wet, naked baby running down the hallway screaming super sonic screams, dripping everywhere, jiggling like jello the whole way.

10 year old walking down the street with baby in duct taped stroller, 5 year old trailing behind looking like a true hussy in black go-go boots and short denim skirt. Five bucks in her hot little 10 year old hands for the candy store.

The slapping sound of naked baby trying, and failing, to stand up on the wood floor - in her pee. Repeatedly.

5 year old falling backwards off the swing with a deep thud while trying to heft baby more than half her size onto her skinny little lap.

In the middle of a crowded parade route, stalking complete strangers with strollers, begging for a diaper to replace fully loaded and very aromatic piece wrapped around 10 month old baby.

3 girls crazy dancing and singing with total abandon to the Mama Mia! sing-a-long for the millionth time. And 5 year old asking why Sophie has 3 dads for the billionth time.

9 year old writing a poem about colors that goes on and on for page after torturous page but almost makes you cry with the metaphorical illustration and the innocent optimism.

Mom and Dad, grey haired and tired, rumpled and crumpled, rolling around in bed at 6am with screaming, laughing baby, 5 year old and 10 year old. Until someone falls off the side...