The Day My Kids Got Flipped Off At Wal-Mart

Tweet Let me first say- I am trying to let this go.
I am trying to open my heart and let this incident fly away like a cute little bluebird, leaving feelings of forgiveness and love behind.
It's not working. 
Instead, this is sitting on my brain like a big, fat, bald vulture, picking and picking and PICKING away.
The other day we went to Wal-Mart. As the kids and I were walking through the parking lot, a large truck backed out near us. I didn't even really think about it- the kids and I were walking as out of the way of the road as we could, and we kept walking. We were almost to the entrance when I heard someone shout something about kids- and I still didn't get it. But after a few more steps, I turned around- and this old woman driving a big ol' Chevy was flipping us off. I turned back around and kept walking. I couldn't believe my eyes. I just had to turn around again- and there she was, flipping us off some more. Can you believe it! She was flipping off a woman and her 3 young children because we happened to be walking down the road while she was backing out. We didn't even walk behind her car! We were on the opposite side of the road- but because her truck was so big, she had to stop for a second while we passed.
I'll admit it- I reacted. After my brain finally processed what was happening, I yelled something like- "How could you? There are children here! You're disgusting!" Then I jumped on the hood of her car, growling at her as I bared my teeth. She cowered in fear, but it was too late. I punched my fist through the windshield and dragged her worthless waste of a body out of the car. Then I tossed it across the parking lot like a rag doll, and ripped her truck apart with my bare hands.
Okay, I didn't. But I did yell that she was disgusting, and I just can't let it go. Why do people have to be so horrible? What happened to common decency? Who the hell flips off little kids????
And also, anyone happen to catch her license plate?

Won't You Be My Neighbor?

Tweet My dear readers, I need to ask you for a favor. 


I need you to join me in a party- a white trash lawn party.


You see, I just got an e-mail from my landlady stating that we were in violation of a neighborhood nuisance code for having "Outdoor storage and accumulation of miscellaneous junk, trash, rubbish, and debris discarded on the premises creating a public nuisance to the neighborhood". She lives in a different city, so that means one of our neighbors reported us and it got sent to her. 
Here's a picture of my house this morning:

Last week there were a few items by our garbage cans. On the side of the house, almost out of sight. So if the neighbors think that was a public nuisance, I am sure as hell ready to show them what a public nuisance really is. It's time for a white trash lawn party! Have any broken down cars we can park on the lawn? Bring your ice chests full of Blue Ribbon. Make sure to wear white t-shirts so I can spray you down with the hose in the First Annual Not Blessed Mama Wet T-Shirt Contest. Prizes include pissing off my uptight neighbors!
Actually, I should probably apologize to the "old hag" (the kids chose that nickname for her- but I must admit it fits). I'm sure it's very hard on her having someone live next door to her who is not an upper middle class snotty white couple like every one else in this damn neighborhood. Guess what, Old Hag. I am going to play outside with my kids. There are going to be bikes and screaming and popsicle sticks. It's just the way things are going to be, so get your head out of your ass and have a great day. 

Like Breastfeeding? Then Un-like Regretsy

Tweet Not Blessed Mama is always tardy to the party. I was late to Myspace, Facebook, Sons of Anarchy, blogging, Twitter, iPhones, True Blood.... I guess I'm just too busy traumatizing the Spawn for life trying to be a loving mother and wife. So when I finally stumbled upon Regretsy, it was already wildly popular- and hilarious. I was hooked, and it took me about 3 nights of staying up until the wee hours of the morning to read every single entry. You see, Regretsy takes funky crafts and whatnot from Etsy, and mocks them mercilessly. April Winchell, the site's author, has a sharp tongue and a dirty mouth- the results are hysterical. I love her kind of humor- similar to Lisa Lampanelli, my favorite comedian. A kind of no-holds-barred, everything is fair game attitude. I consider myself to be in that category- I'm definitely an equal opportunity mocker. 
I was quite thrilled to find Regretsy on Facebook, as I was developing a secret girl crush on April. Until...... dun dun dun (ominous music playing).... the day of the Milky Milky Necklace. Some well-meaning mother crafted a necklace made to look like a set of boobs, to comfort her daughter who was weaning. I must confess to you before I continue- I have been producing milk for the past 9+ years. I've nursed 3 gorgeous, healthy Spawn, and it is something that is quite important to me. But I'm not up-tight. I can take a joke- and I had no qualms about people mocking this nursing/weaning necklace. Because, let's be real, giving a small child a set of silver knockers to wear around her neck is..... uhh... possibly just a little itty bitty tiny bit bizarre. 
Unfortunately, the mocking did not stop at the necklace, as I had expected might happen. Many people were making deregatory remarks about "lactards"- a horrible term that I think is pretty self explanatory. April (and most of her minions) think that breastfeeding is so normal and natural, it's like pooping. Seriously, it was compared to defecation. It's just a natural bodily function no one should be proud of. Unfortunately this line of thinking doesn't make sense- per the CDC,  in 2007 33% of babies were exclusively breastfed through 3 months of age, and approximately 13% were exclusively breastfed through 6 months. Those are pretty dismal numbers. If breastfeeding was as easy as going to the bathroom, don't you think that a lot more women would be doing it? Let's face facts- nursing is not always easy. You constantly need to be physically available to your baby, or pump milk in preparation of any separation. You must watch your diet, and avoid foods that bother your child- as well as caffeine and alcohol. You must sacrifice your body for your child's well being- and it is such a totally awesome, wonderful and glorious thing, mothers do it all the time. It is well worth the price. 


Regretsy 

And by the way, my feelings about the lactation police have NOTHING to do with breastfeeding.

It's when you start taking yourself and your body so seriously that you think you're a fucking superhero for feeding your kid that it turns a corner.

August 7 at 11:30pm

This is a quote from April Winchell on the FB discussion. April, I invite you to ask your mother if she nursed you. If she did, please tell her that the 9 months that she lovingly carried you inside her body and then nourished you with milk from her bosom are nothing special- they're akin to taking a crap. Giving you life and nourishment solely from the power of her own body is like eating a burrito and then dropping the kids off at the pool- it's not serious, it's not special and anyone could do it without a second thought. Wrong, Wrong, and Wrong again. It's hard work, but it is mind-blowingly insane the amazing things that a woman's body can do, and the sacrifices she will make for her child. And breastfeeding women  are fucking superheros, thankyouverymuch.
End rant. 

Husbands

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Are you married, my dear mama friends? Do you have a partner, or significant other? I do. It has almost been ten years that we've enjoyed our wedded bliss. But I'm really sorry to say, I don't think we'll make it to ten. I think that my wonderful, adoring husband is going to have a very terrible accident before then. I think it might happen on a sunny Saturday, maybe one just like today. I think that I may attempt to drag him to Ikea, where he agreed to go, and I imagine that he will be the hugest pain in the ass possible. I'm thinking he might even be worse than dragging all three Spawn along. I think I might even regret leaving the Spawn with Grandma, and wasting my babysitting time dragging my crabby husband around Ikea where he complains and gripes about everything. I'm guessing that even though I threaten him with domestic violence in the store, he still won't quit being a creep. I don't know, this is all purely theoretical, you know. I'm just thinking that finally out of desperation I may just grab my purse out of my full basket and attempt to leave him in the store. I wonder if on the way home he might recline his seat and complain about walking around the store with his sore back, and I wonder if steam might blow out of my ears at the murderous rage I'm feeling. I wonder if he might be so self-centered that he won't even notice the charming shade of purple that my face is turning. I wonder if he could even guess how I might start thinking that if I speed up and turn sharp enough, maybe I can get his side of the car to hit a tree, and eject him into outer space. Or Mexico. Mind you, I don't even know if any of this could ever happen. I'm just thinking that maybe, after drinking a Mike's Hard Pomegranate Lemonade, I might start hatching up a plan that involves rope, the wee hours of the morning, and the trunk of a car. I don't know, I'm just saying I'm wondering......