The Suburban Jungle

Interrupting and finishing other people’s sentences is something that many busy people do, ahhem… like myself, and it’s certainly a bad habit worth changing. I am the ultimate multitasking mom, so much so, that I can barely remember the last thought I had, as I have already moved onto 7 others. When I talk to people, I find myself wanting the pace of the conversation to fit into my packed schedule or I may have something to add that is much funnier than what you’re saying and I just can’t wait to say it. If you’re trying to explain your feelings on a subject and I already get what you’re point, I may ever so “politely” hurry you along by either responding before you’re done or telling you “I get it,” while you’re still speaking. If you’re truly lucky, I may help you get your thought across by finishing your sentence for you. I know, no thanks necessary. (more…)

Almost every magazine has its version of a “How To Have (insert saucy adjective here)” sex list, most of which make me feel like I should keep an extinguisher by the bed, along with a bucket of cold water to douse on myself and my partner when we begin to spontaneously combust from sheer passion.  “How to Keep Your Love Life Hot, and Your Sex Life in Flames.”  “10 Ways to Reignite Your Marriage.”  “How To Turn Up the Heat In the Bedroom, Without Singeing the Sheets.”  (Oh, I like that last one)

I will actually disband the relationship myths propagated by magazines, and give it to you straight. The side effect of such truth could be the shockingly unsatisfying revelation that your unsatisfying sex life is just that… unsatisfying.  If you are faint of heart or an optimist, stop reading now.

When you have babies, sex is often not so hot… or often for that matter.

Unrealistic Tip:  Time your trysts around nap time. Snarky Response: There is nothing women like more, when trying to have an orgasm, than the sense of pressure and urgency that having time constraints puts on the experience.  Nighttime is better, IF you can work in a romp around heavy eyelids.  Little babies make for long days restless nights and disinterest

Do realize that once the kids are out of the crib, the question isn’t if we get caught, but rather when? You’re just counting the days, I mean lays, until you must explain why Daddy is wrestling with Mommy… naked. “Well you see, Mommy tripped and her clothes fell off, and Daddy was trying to help her up.  Oh, and he took off his clothes so she wouldn’t be embarrassed.”  So, please have a better story than that.

Writer with No Children Tip: “Set the mood.” You know candles, aromatic massage oils, and sexy lingerie.  Brutal Honesty Response: If there is no lingering gas odor in the room and you’re in an old t-shirt without any holes, work your dimmer switch and voila… ambiance.  Better yet, realize the TV is a beautiful source of ambient light. If you can get the volume to an audible level, you can work in sex without giving up Grays Anatomy. It’s called multi-tasking, something we moms are all too familiar with.

As for a massage, I’m lucky if I don’t get one of my kids’ left over Dorito corners embedded in my thigh.  The sexy part is when I ask my husband to flick it out and slide the remaining crumbs off my tush like sand paper.  Does that count as a massage? Well, arguably, it’s more like an exfoliation, but it’s undeniably hot.

Tip From a Writer Whose Kids are Not Involved in 500 Activities: A date night once a week. Reality Check Response: I like this one, because in theory it is legitimately a good idea.  It’s definitely worth trying every week, but unfortunately, it assumes that there will be a night each week when no one is sick or has an event, that there is a babysitter available, and neither of you are too tired or worn out to go to dinner  –A meal in which most your conversation will revolve around the kids.

Writer With more Than 24hrs in Her Day Tip: (My personal fave.) Don’t forget the foreplay. Multitasking Mom Response: Really?  As it is, I have to have sex while catching up on my Tivo, reading US Weekly, having a healthy protein snack, and repeating the words, “lettuce, milk, eggs” over and over until I can get to a pen.  Now I have to add something else to my repertoire?  We forgot foreplay a long time ago. Well, my husband didn’t, he calls it brushing his teeth… which I am thankful for.

“ Are You Out of Your Cotton Pickin’ Mind?” Tip –That’s right I said cotton pickin’ and I meant it!  Start Your Day With a Bang So, you’ve had a long day and the odds that you’re going to be up for a raucous romp, or even a guilt induced one, are slim.  Set your alarm an hour earlier and have an uninterrupted top-o-the-morning.  Bitchy Unsensored Response: First of all, what ambitious magazine writers think an hour is necessary?   Six minutes would do the trick and still, I’m not down with that idea. Do you know what I like to do before I wake up in the morning?   SLEEP!

Do yourself a favor, throw out those, “spice it up” manuals and top 10 lists.  Don’t be too concerned about the quantity of the sex you’re having.  You have to figure out what works for you. I recall a friend asking, “Do you ever wake up to your husband having sex with you?”  I remember thinking, “No, in my house, we call that rape.”  Now I’m thinking, “Hey, whatever works.”  If you can have a roll in the hay while hitting the hay, consider yourself a professional multi-tasker.

Question of the Day: What’s the best “Spice up Your Sex Life” tactic you’ve learned since you had children?  Please Comment and leave your twitter handle (I’ll be sure to follow:))

It has recently dawned on me that somewhere along the way, my sense of accomplishment became a product of my ability to be a good homemaker.  The creative energies I once used to design jewelry and dress celebs are now spent trying to build intricate forts and streamline the laundry process.  For instance, I’ve found that by rolling towels one can save considerable folding time, while providing the added benefit of a spa-like appearance.

When did this happen?  When did I accept the job as Master of the Mundane?  I remember the ad, it read:  Seeking highly motivated person, who requires little sleep, to cook, clean, wipe tushies, noses, and countertops… oh, and provide occasional sex to employer.  Person will be overworked and underappreciated.  It is preferred that you have no prior experience or references.  Always on duty.  Will pay nothing. (more…)

Okay, so the title isn’t exactly PC.  Sure, they tell you not to make-out with your kids, but sometimes it’s a fine line between so cute and ummm, scary.  What parent doesn’t secretly love it when their child says they want to marry them?  I mean for how many years are they going to want to make-out with, hug, snuggle, or hold your hand?

This morning my daughter came in to wish me a happy Valentine’s Day, to give me a stunning hand-made card, and to neck.  “Oh, this card is awesome.  Come give Mommy a kiss,”  I said in a very innocent non-incestuous way.  My daughter, maybe wanting to show me the magnitude of the holiday, grabbed my face with both hands and planted the biggest smooch on me, I almost started to giggle mid-peck.  But, she wasn’t done; she started turning her head from side to side in her best iCarly imitation.  “Ummm, okay cutie,”  I said feeling partly amused and partly violated. (more…)

As a child, I too encountered the dreaded “Because I Said So.” It was usually yelled in frustration or hissed between clenched teeth. No matter what the method of delivery, it signified the end of the discussion. I remember wondering, what exactly does that mean and why is that a remotely valid argument? It was a parental trap; there was no way to fight it, and yet I felt unsatisfied in conceding.

Now, at 30 something I finally know what it means. It means the adult is losing the battle with a child. Yep, “Because I Said So” is the phrase used when you are being outsmarted or out-debated by an 8 year old. The truth is, sometimes their reasoning makes sense… a lot of sense. Sometimes, I listen and say, “okay, let’s do it your way.” Usually, I’ve made my point and I have to stick by it to be consistent.  And the rest of the time, I’m just another stubborn adult standing on ceremony.  If I had only known as a child what I know now.  My self esteem would have had a real boost.  I guess that’s part of parenting; pretending you know what you’re doing and using incongruous phrases when all else fails.

I never imagined that I would be losing arguments to 8 year olds or even 5 year olds, for that matter. Their smart little buggers, aren’t they? After 10 minutes of verbal “ping pong,” I’m spent.  They’re still going and I am ready to play the, “let’s see who can be quite the longest game.”

The Great Debater: “Why can’t I have another candy?”

Me:  “You had enough.”

TGD:  “But, they’re small, so 10 equals one regular candy.”

Me:  “Nope, you’re done, they’re bad for your teeth. Enough.”

TGD:  “Why, they’re chocolate? The dentist said to choose chocolate over chewy candies, so they’re not really candy.”

Me:  “They are still candy, it’s just less harmful to your teeth.”v(Why do I keep explaining? WHY?)

TGD:  “But, So and So’s mom said they have nuts in ‘em which is good for you.”

Me:  “Fine, you can go live with So and So’s mom. I’ll drop you off with your candy.”

TGD:  “AWESOME!”

Now, I’m officially losing the battle. I’m frustrated, flustered, and worn out. The only argument I haven’t used is “If So and So told you jump off a bridge, would you?” And that’s only because I know it would be met with a resounding YES!

TGD:   “So, why can’t I have one more? Just one more, only one healthy nut filled chocolate non-candy? Please please please?”

Me:  “BECAUSE I SAID SO! That’s WHY! Now go to bed.”

TGD:  “What? Why do I have to go to bed, it’s only 8 o’clock??? So and So’s mom lets him stay up till 9.”

So, the holidays are upon us.   Christmas has just passed and visitors are abundant, but their welcome is wearing thin.  I know, we all look forward to this time of year, but often in the midst of it, we realize the heavy meals have expanded our waist lines and our relatives have stretched our patience.

In-laws can be the toughest during the holiday season.  I’m not talking about mine; they’re amazingly wonderful and never bothersome, NEVER.  Mine aren’t even in this season, but I have heard tales of other in-laws who cause stress and frustration.  The way they handle a turkey, as if it is not a breeding ground for salmonella, or the way they screw with the table settings that you took a painful amount of time arranging to look haphazard and shabby chic.  I know, my “friends” sound like a joy to be around over the holidays, right?  I am simply relaying their stories, I am in no way referring to specific incidences that may have happened in the past, which have caused me anxiety or to count to 10 by the medicine cabinet, while searching for Zanex .

Let’s face it, it’s harder to have tolerance for those who didn’t raise us: friends and non-immediate family included.   We have a certain forgivability factor for our blood relatives; they can get away with more and feel the wrath less.  We also tend to offend them less as they too have a forgivablity factor, towards us.  Thank goodness.

So, while you count the hours till your guests get on their merry way, I suggest heavy drinking.  Use the holiday traditions to mask your quick bout with alcoholism:  Manischewitz on Chanukah, egg nog on X-mas, and champagne on New Year’s.

Remind yourself that you’re probably getting on their nerves as well.  This is also not a problem I have, as I am always filled with an almost addictive amount of holiday cheer, but logic says:  If they’re annoying you, you’re most likely annoying them.  (Or did I read that on a fortune cookie?)  Well logic or Confucius says that.

Grandparents, especially in-laws, really aren’t there for you in the first place.  They’re there for your children.  You’re just an obstacle.  You and “Your Way” are hurdles to be tip-toed around, not jumped over.  They don’t agree with your techniques, your rules, and your methods of punishment — or lack thereof.   Though this is a point of un-verbalized contention between you and them, look at the positive.  They would love for you to get out of the house, so that they can do and say what they please without feeling like you’re critiquing and judging there every movement – which, by the way, you are.

Don’t over think this one!  Go out and let them babysit!!!  And while you’re out, drink heavily.

Disclaimer: No in-laws, parents, or guests were harmed in the writing of this article!

I have added a Tip o’ the Mornin’ to my regular repertoire of hilariously funny, thought provoking and possibly award winning articles.

RealSelf.com

Well in answer to the question, Do I need microdermabrasion?  Yes. yes you do.  I don’t know exactly who you are but your skin is probably dull and the elasticity is probably slack.  Okay, I may be projecting, but along with suffering from dull slack skin, I selfishly envy fresh faced youth. It always makes me feel good to drive by a highschool, hang my head out the window and scream at the cheerleaders.  Things like. “Your pores may be small, but your such a slut and everyone knows it.” or “So what if you don’t have any wrinkles now, one day your kids will stretch your nether regions beyond recognition and your HS sweetheart will be a cheater working a dead end job, and your face will show it all.    I know what your thinking, Can I come?

If you think there’s a better way, then maybe you should try microdermabrasion.  First it sandblasts your skin with an abrasive material or ultrasound, then it vacuums your pores clean like a shag rug in the bathroom and last it stimulates new collagen production.  I have been trying to coax my collagen into regenerate for months now, so if this works, I can stop begging!  It costs $100-$200 a blast and should be done by a licensed professional –it can cause damage in the wrong hands.

Will it minimize wrinkles?  Probably not, but it can help with fine lines,  sun worshipers with skin damage and those who went through that awkward teen acne.  Who am I kidding, I still break out at “that time of the month.”  That’s when I go to an old age home, hang my head out the window and scream, “I may have a zit or two, but at least I still get my period.”

If you have an experience with microdermabrasion, please share.

As many of  you know, I am addicted to the Twilight series.  This was one of my favorite articles to write.  Unfortunately, I can’t repost it on my site.  So please check it out and send it to your Twilight lovin’ friends!!! BABBLE READERS:  If you came from babble.com, check out my latest article, I Slept with Tiger Woods. OR more Twilight: I Vant to Bite Jour Neck, Blaaah & Twilight Obsession or Midlife Crisis.

New Moon, the second installment of the Twilight series, earned a record breaking $72.7 million at the box office on opening day. Were the moviegoers all screaming teenagers there to drool over Taylor Lautner’s new bulging biceps, or swoon over Robert Pattinson’s sexy pallor?  Nope. Many of these fans were moms.  ”Twi-moms,” as they — we — are often called, came out in droves to experience Bella’s love triangle between Edward, her vampire boyfriend and Jacob, her werewolf pal.  MORE

OMG, I have to tell you guys something.  I often turn to my iCarly diary with my darkest secrets, but this one is just too juicy.   Here goes…  I slept with Tiger Woods.  You guys are probably freaking out, as Tiger’s reputation has been sooo perfect up until now.   Let me be the first to tell you, he’s not the squeaky clean Jonas Brother, he pretends to be.

Our affair was rather recent.  I must confess, he was passed out when I met him.  Sadly, that’s not the first time I started an affair with an unconscious man.  The other time was when this guy was hit by a subway car and I went to visit him in the hospital.  His family showed up and took me for his fiancé.  I went along with it because I was lonely and it was the holidays.  Eventually, he woke up and I married his brother.  Oh wait, that wasn’t me.  DUH.

Anywho, with Tiger it was different.  He was admitted to the hospital (where I am a candy striper) after a rather harsh battle with a fire hydrant.  –See, it’s different already.  It appears he and his wife play late night golf and he took his car to search for a stray ball, when the confrontation occurred.  I can only imagine how far one of Tiger’s balls can fly (well, I don’t have to imagine anymore).  –That was a sex joke, in case you didn’t catch on, LOL.

As it turns out, it was lucky that his wife was caddying for him, as she was able to use his iron to pull him from the wreck and beat off the fire hydrant.   I didn’t even know fire hydrants could come to life, but I saw this movie about a car named Christine and she came to life.  So, I guess anything’s possible.

Tiger  even promised me a signed Fat Head of his best friend MJ.  I can’t believe he can get in touch with Michael Jackson, but after the stint with the fire hydrant, I can see Tiger’s special.  Other people can see it too.   He also had sex with my friend Luanne who mops the floors.   And then Gertie, who resides in the nursing home area.   Oh, and Becky who was in the pediatric unit to have her tonsils out.  I ran into him wandering around the Nursery.  He says looking at the babies calms him.  I get it, they’re so sweet and innocent.

I confronted him about all those other girls, but he said, “don’t worry honey, you’re my hole in one.”  He said if we do it enough I can be his “double bogey.”  I don’t know anything about the golf but the nicknames sure are cute.  Oh yeah, he made me swear I’d never tell… Shit.

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When I was a child, watching the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade with my family was tradition. We would wake up bright and early, drag ourselves into the family room, rub our tired little eyes, and gather around the television. Mom would offer coffee and hot cocoa, depending on your age. We’d snuggle together, ready to critique the bands and cheer for our favorite floats. To us, the T-Day Parade was the official kick off of the holiday season. It was tradition, and it was spectacular. Read More…

One of my biggest pet peeves in Disney movies is the killing off of moms. It truly irks me that when I go to a “kid flick,” I have to worry that it will reinforce the innate fear that children have about confronting their parents’ mortality. Yes, I am aware that some Disney movies are based on fairytales which date back hundreds of years. Most of these stories involve the loss of the mother prior to the beginning of the story, hence the existence of the wicked stepmother. With this said, what about Disney movies that exterminate the moms with scenes that could give Steel Magnolias a run for its money? I haven’t even let my children see Disney tearjerker’s like  MORE…