Tuesday, September 24, 2013

Today We Mourn the Passing of COMMON SENSE

Today we mourn the passing of a beloved old friend, Common Sense, who has been with us for many years.. No one knows for sure how old he was, since his birth records were long ago lost in bureaucratic red tape. He will be remembered as having cultivated such valuable lessons as: 
Knowing when to come in out of the rain; 
Why the early bird gets the worm; 
Life isn't always fair; 
Maybe it was my fault. 

Common Sense lived by simple, sound financial policies (don't spend more than you can earn) and reliable strategies (adults, not children, are in charge). 

His health began to deteriorate rapidly when well-intentioned but overbearing regulations were set in place. Reports of a 6 -year- old boy charged with sexual harassment for kissing a classmate; teens suspended from school for using mouthwash after lunch; and a teacher fired for reprimanding an unruly student, only worsened his condition. 

Common Sense lost ground when parents attacked teachers for doing the job that they themselves had failed to do in disciplining their unruly children. It declined even further when schools were required to get parental consent to administer Tylenol, sun lotion or a band-aid to a student; but could not inform parents when a student became pregnant and wanted to have an abortion. 

Common Sense lost the will to live as the Ten Commandments became contraband; churches became businesses; and criminals received better treatment than their victims. 

Common Sense took a beating when you couldn't defend yourself from a burglar in your own home and the burglar could sue you for assault. 

Common Sense finally gave up the will to live, after a woman failed to realize that a steaming cup of coffee was hot. She spilled a little in her lap, and was promptly awarded a huge settlement. Common Sense was preceded in death by his parents, Truth and Trust; his wife, Discretion; his daughter, Responsibility; and his son, Reason. 

He is survived by his 3 stepbrothers; I Know My Rights, Someone Else Is To Blame, and I'm A Victim. 

Not many attended his funeral because so few realized he was gone. If you still remember him, pass this on. If not, join the majority and do nothing.

Wednesday, September 18, 2013

The Day I Almost Threw My Baby Down the Trash Chute

Yeah, so let me explain.....before Child Services and the FBI show up at my door. Wait, there's the doorbell.......pizza's here!

So there was life before children. You know, life where you didn't worry about getting home at a certain hour, where staying out until last call was pretty much a given on the weekends, and you could go to the grocery store whenever you wanted, even a couple of times in one day if you had to. Alone. With time to browse. Actually read a label or two. Grown up stuff.

Now I don't know about most of you, but I didn't have my first child until I was over thirty. Before that, I worked in child care, retail, and as a teacher in elementary school. I've worked with kids of all ages since I was twelve.....babysitting, working with camps, at church (yes, I actually went to church), and volunteering. I'd always wanted to be a teacher, and so I put myself through college, got my degree, and worked for the public school system for several years.

For years I had the chance to observe the parents of the children I worked with. Parents of varying age, experience, backgrounds, and ideas. I would think to myself often that, "I'll do that differently", or, "Wow I'm going to have to remember that when I have kids," or, "Oh HELL no that did NOT just happen."

Kids throwing a fit in a restaurant? Oh my children would be taught to know better. Child pitching a fit in the grocery store over candy? My children will be standing quietly, hands folded behind their back, waiting patiently for me to finish checking out. Teenager in the department store arguing about why she needs a $100 pair of jeans? Oh no, my children will be taught to be respectful and to value themselves, no matter what they're wearing. I was full of judgement and self-righteousness, knowing that when I had my own children, things were going to be different.

And WOW are they different.

We all hear the saying that babies don't come with owner's manuals. There is SO MUCH that you don't get told about what it's like to all of the sudden have this tiny life literally in your hands. And you're expected to keep it alive. For like, EVER. Sure, they'll help you learn to breast feed, they'll ask you if you know how to change a diaper, they'll even help you give the baby a sponge bath in the hospital. They'll show you how to swaddle, how to support her head, the basic stuff. Then they'll send you home  like you know what you're doing. And you leave the hospital absolutely terrified.

And then it sets in. PARENTAL PARANOIA. Come on.....you know you've had it. Situations that before seemed completely innocent are now danger-prone death traps that might harm your newborn baby. You'll conjure up these ridiculous scenarios of what MIGHT happen to the point that you'll give yourself mini panic attacks thinking they could actually come true.

Hence the trash chute. When my oldest was just barely a year old, we moved up to the Boston area. Until we found a house, we had a temporary apartment in the city. We were on the 8th floor. My husband went to work every day, leaving me, the baby and the dog to fend for ourselves in a city I knew nothing about. I do know that I am NOT an urban dweller. By any stretch. I need grass. (No, not that kind.) But I digress. Anyway, to take out your trash, you had to go down the hall, use a key to open the trash closet door, and put the trash down the chute. Most of the time, I was holding my daughter in one arm and holding the trash in the other. After doing that a few times, I told my husband that I would no longer take the trash down, he would have to do it. Why? Because I would have little panic attacks as I stood there and I would think to myself, "What if I put the wrong one down the trash chute?" I would envision this to the point where I would literally get sick to my stomach.

Now OF COURSE that wasn't going to happen. I am not a complete idiot. I do have my moments, but for the most part I'm a pretty intelligent, level-headed girl. Really I am. But having this little life that I was completely responsible for just changed my perception on so many things. Normal, every day things. Simple, common sense things. But you become so much more aware of the dangers out there, the things that can hurt you, your child, your family.........and I haven't even gotten to the dangers that include the crazy people. That's a whole other blog for a whole other day. Hell, that's a book right there.

So, parental paranoia. It's that feeling of panic when you can't see your child in the department store even though you know for a fact that he's standing on the other side of the t-shirt you're looking at. It's those ridiculous scenarios you'll create in your head when you're driving down the road about what exactly would happen if the car went into the lake.......how would you get out? How would you get the kids out? Then you realize you live in a desert. It's the wide-eyed panic you feel when your little one is eating a cracker and coughs.....and you're sure they're choking to death and you hope to God you can remember how to do the Heimlich on a toddler. It's seeing the video of the woman leaving her stroller on the train platform......and the stroller rolling off.......and the train hitting it (the baby, miraculously, was fine)......and thinking to yourself that you're going to handcuff yourself to the handle of your stroller every single time you use it from now on. It's checking on your newborn fifteen times a night during their first year because you've been staring at the video monitor for an hour and you just can't be sure they're still breathing. It's all of those things that common sense would tell you don't make sense, and yet it doesn't matter.

It's Parental Paranoia. And no one tells you about it. And it doesn't go away. But it's real. It's out there. And it's not fun.

Good grief......when my kids start driving I might just have to check myself into a mental institution.


Thursday, September 12, 2013

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Tattler Thursday Blog & Social Media Hop!!!

Re-posted from The Precious Princess's Guide to Bananaland:

The Wild and Wonderful World of Gingerssnaps

Tattler Thursday Blog & Social Media Hop!

Welcome everybody *waving frantically*! I'm so excited to be here co-hosting the Tattler Thursday Hop. Probably more excited than I should be. I'm an odd bird. Whatever. That doesn't change the fact that this is a great hop to share your all your social media links. I know stuff. I'll shut up now and you go and link up. Go head, do it. - PPB

Hiya Snappers! Welcome back to the 18th week of the Tattler Thursday Blog and Social Network Hop!

It's time to tattle and hop!

It's a share your crazy, gross, hilarious, in-the-trenches parenthood stories, kind of blog hop! We love funny kid stories and we want to hear yours!

Just leave a comment with your story, post not required! So think of your funniest, wackiest or favorite kid stories, leave a comment  with your story/tattle, follow your Hostesses and Co-Hostesses, visit and discover other blogs, and have fun!

Remember the easiest way to get a follow back is to like/follow other pages and leave a comment! So hop around, tell your friends and share, share, share! This is a hop designed for you to have fun and share! Happy Tattling!
 about the Blog Hop HERE!

This week's featured blogger of the week is, Literally Vague from Chaos With A Curve! Go check their site out! It is a conglomeration of 4 women bloggers who blog together because they want to be heard. Because they have something to say, whether you want to read it or not.  Thanks for commenting last week Literally Vague ! You are now entered to be featured on The tattler's Studio next month!

To be picked as next week's featured blogger of the week, and to be eligible for September's Tattler's Studio featured post on W3G, all about you and your blog, simply comment on one of the three Hostesses blogs with a funny, silly, gross, scary, wacky, or crazy kid story!

The Rules are:
1- Follow Your Host and Co-Hostesses
2- Grab the button and display it on your blog or hop page/section
3- Leave a comment with a funny, wacky, or gross kid story/tattle

*Be Sure to Hop over to other blogs and visit/network and share the Hop

*Have fun Hopping! (and come back next week!)

Your Hostesses
The Wild and Wonderful World of GingerssnapsComfytown Chronicles

The Co-Hostesses
    Complete Bliss Blog
BabyForScale    New Mama Diaries

(Submissions close in 5d 4h 48m)
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***If you are interested in co-hosting the blog hop or would like more information, you can reach us at tattlerthursday@gmail.com***

Wednesday, September 11, 2013

Remembering 9/11

I was teaching fifth grade. My kids were taking a test. My mom called, which was pretty unusual for her to call during school. I pulled up the news on the news on the Internet, and just stared. My co-teachers across the hall were hysterical. Our principal, who was useless, went around to each classroom warning all of the teachers not to say anything. Parents started picking up their kids. In the meantime, the front office had their tv on the entire time and they were all crying, so any students who had to go up there for any reason came back knowing something was wrong. After lunch, the rumors of the president's death and bombing of the White House got to be a little much, so I explained to my kids in very basic terms what had happened. I explained as much as I could without trying to terrify them. My principal tried to write me up for it, but I reminded her about the TV in the office and one of my parents had my back and told my principal off, pretty much. I left that school the next year. 

The hubs, who was my boyfriend at the time, couldn't get through to his sister, who was working in one of the WTC buildings. We found out later that she was not in one of the two towers, but she did see the second plane hit the second tower. The stories that came out of NYC were heartbreaking. Firefighters talked about hearing the bodies hit the ground.....that people were deciding it was better to jump from 100 stories than endure the horrors of what was happening inside the building. I've been to Ground Zero....before the new construction started. It is a somber, sacred place. 

And yet we still take for granted the fact that we live in a relatively safe country, living in our little bubbles in our safe towns and communities. We try not to think about those in other countries who fear suicide bombers every time they go to the market, or bombs dropping at random hours of the day, or being hit, God forbid, by chemical weapons. We feel confident that we can walk down a street and not be hit by sniper fire. We can let our kids go out no play without worrying about land mines. It's easy to take our freedoms for granted when we have never known the horrors of what oppression does to a population.

Yes, we will never forget. We will hold those people who died needlessly in our hearts and thoughts forever. What we cannot do is use this tragic event as a catalyst to become more intolerant, more racist, more biased, and more hateful. 

Love to you all.

Thursday, September 5, 2013

You're Expecting Twins? Congrats! Wait, WHAT?!?!?!

Ok, so here's my take. You've seen this, right?

I don't have twins. I have two kids, almost 5 years apart. I am extremely lucky in that I was able to conceive without any help from fertility treatments, as I have PCOS (Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome). Anyone else who has that knows how difficult it is to deal with. 

I have many, many friends with twins. One of my friends has two sets of twins that are three years apart. So yeah, for a while she had TWO sets of twins under the age of five. Think about that for a second. Her husband went to work every day (and that man is a SAINT, let me tell you), and she was home with two toddlers and two infants. There were days when she would say she wanted to pull her hair out and days when she would post the cutest picture or note one of them had written, and I know that beyond all of her frustration and exhaustion, she was truly grateful for her children. On those days when I would be ridiculously frustrated with my own two, I would think of R, take a deep breath, and realize it could be worse.

I have another friend who makes having twins look incredibly easy. She’s so easy-going and has such a great “roll with it” attitude.  Yet another friend with twins makes it look really, really difficult. It’s just her personality, but again, I have no doubts that she loves her children. All of them are amazing moms. (And dads.) 

I don't know how I would have handled twins had I found out I was pregnant with them. I probably would have gone through the same terror, the same sleepless nights, the same anxiety, and the same questioning as these people. My husband travels a LOT for work, and so I would be contemplating all of those nights alone with TWO babies and only TWO hands. Honestly I would be downright terrified. 

What I would NOT do? I wouldn’t go on the internet telling people how much I hated my children before I had them. Children I wanted. Children I wished, dreamed, and hoped for. Children I fought for, as these people apparently did, with infertility treatments, humiliating procedures in a doctor’s office where everyone knows what you’re doing and why you’re there, scheduled sex dates where the only goal is making a baby, and the general overwhelming stress of trying to conceive.

I would NOT complain that my spouse and I were “wishing the pregnancy away” and worried more about ourselves than the babies we worked so hard to conceive. I would absolutely NOT refer to my older child as the “free one”. That statement right there made my heart sink. What a horrible, heartless thing to say. I would never, in a million years, tell anyone that having twins was a “nightmare”, that I was “pissed”, that I wished my babies were the opposite sex......and I most definitely would not say that “we’re counting down - not like expected parents but like cancer patients with only months to live.” That one I can’t even wrap my head around. 

Here’s the deal, Daddy-of-One-With-Two-on-the-Way:

You CHOSE to become pregnant again. You CHOSE to try to have another baby. When you couldn’t get pregnant on your own, you CHOSE to use fertility treatments. You CHOSE to spend thousands of dollars on procedures, all the while complaining that you live in a one-bedroom apartment and have no room for the family you already have. When the time came for IVF, knowing the risks, you CHOSE to go ahead with it. When your wife was asked about the embryos, she CHOSE to implant two, again.....knowing the risks.  Do you see a pattern here? The only CHOICE you didn’t make was abortion, which might have been the right call, in your case. Yes, I just said that. 

For reasons I cannot comprehend, because your post pretty clearly states that you and your wife didn’t want another child, you wanted a sibling for your existing child. Why? Your son would have been just fine. Did HE ask for another baby? Do you always give him everything he wants? I’ve never heard such a ridiculous, narcissistic reason in all of my life. Most people say that they had another baby because they had always wanted a house full of kids, or they just loved children so much, or that babies were such a blessing, stuff like that. I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone say, “Oh, we didn’t really want him, we only had him so our son could have a brother.” Holy crap.

Your “OH WOE IS ME” post is literally sickening. Here’s an idea.....go to an elementary school and ask to sit in on a special education class. Go to a hospital and sit for while in the children’s cancer ward. Take a trip to St. Jude’s Hospital and just walk around. When you’re out in public, notice the moms and dads whose children are forever confined to wheelchairs, who cannot talk, eat, move, or poop without help and probably never will. And look at the love in their faces. They don’t hate their children because they weren’t perfect......THEY LOVE THEM BECAUSE THEY”RE THEIRS. Because they were wanted, no matter what. 

Get up off of your pathetic, whining ass, figure out how to provide for your family (because yes, that is your JOB), and be grateful for what you have. Pregnancy is not a buffet.....you can't pick and choose what you want, and you certainly can't look at the desserts and pick the best looking pie.


OH HOLY HELL, I just found your wife’s post in response to yours. 

This line tells me everything I need to know about the both of you: 

Yet despite these challenges, we still wanted another child — a sibling for our son, mind you, not so much for us.”

I really, sincerely hope that therapist can get through to you, for the sake of your children. In the meantime, I will say again that I have never seen such narcissism, such ridiculous ungratefulness, such immaturity, and such selfishness in one post. You both need to get over yourselves and realize that once you made the decision to have ONE child, much less another, it stopped being all about you. 

GOOD GRIEF. And you have to have a license to catch a fish........

One Blunt Mom