What Brings You Here?

Every once and a while I look at all the information and statistics Blogger keeps regarding the BoyMommy blog.  It makes absolutely NO sense to me, but I have learned a few things. 

First, if someone links to my blog (by “sharing” it on your Facebook page, for example,) the blog gets A LOT more traffic than it does when I post it on my page or the BoyMommy Facebook page . . . because I can only reach so many people, but if you tell your friends, and they tell their friends, and they tell their friends, well, that’s a lot of people who I otherwise might not reach.  (Is everyone picking up on my subtle attempt to get you to share my blog on your page?  Huh?  Are ya?)

Second, if you type in certain search words on Google, you will be directed to my BoyMommy blog.  One would think that’s a wonderful opportunity, and it is, but I must say I am a little disturbed at the searches that are directing people to my blog.  Further, I am sure the searchers are equally as disturbed when they are directed to a blog that essentially chronicles my shortcomings as a parent, a dieter, and a general wearer of clothes.

 

You can’t make this sh*t up.  The following are ACTUAL searches that people Googled and that eventually led them to my blog.  I’m not sure if I should be more concerned with the peculiar searches or the fact that the world wide internets thinks, hmmm . . . you know what THIS person needs?  A little glimpse into BoyMommy’s life, that’s what! 

There are plenty of searches for boy mom, mom and boy, etc., and some pretty innocuous searches for various craft ideas or preppy clothing ideas.  But then there are the others . . . the searches that make me fear for the future of society. 

These are my faves:

• "Kid pooping" - whatdyawant?  a picture?
• "Midget shooting a bird" - yeah, I'd pay to see that.  I'd look it up myself if I didn't think it would direct me right back to my own blog.
• "Audrey Hepburn Leggings" - this, for some reason, is the most popular search that links people to me.
• "Dinosaur Train Sex" - um, you're a sicko, you freak.
• "Announcement for the funeral of my . . ." - of my WHAT?  You can't leave me hangin' like that!
• "Little boys pooping" - I've seen enough of this in my lifetime that I need not look it up on the world wide internets.
• "Spider trim" - like, how to give a spider a haircut?
• "How to lose 50 lbs. in 2 weeks" - if I knew the answer to this one, I wouldn't be sitting at my kitchen counter writing a blog about "Dinosaur Train Sex."
• "Didn’t even send a card" - Dude.  Sorry.  I didn't know.
• "Why do I have to do everything?" - I can pretty much guarantee that you did not find the answer you were seeking.
• "Love poem packers" - I love poems so I pack them?  I love Green Bay, so I write poems?
• "Big girl bloated beer" - okay, I kinda understand this one.
• "Boy getting bikini wax" - um, eeeeewwwwww.

Okay, so if you like this blog, please share a post (this one, or choose another favorite) on your Facebook page.  I will love you forever.

Facebook Politics Drinking Game: Fun for the Whole Family!

How to Survive Facebook During a Critical Election Year:  

a Drinking Game

Take a shot every time

. . . One of your high school classmates, who couldn’t get a D in 12^th grade Government even if he photocopied the Valedictorian’s homework, starts spouting off about his right to bare arms. . . not to be confused with his right to bear arms, which apparently he doesn’t know about.

. . . Someone whom you KNOW has made questionable employment choices in order to partake of the Welfare/Food Stamps/WIC program complains about paying taxes.

. . . Someone posts an out-of-context quotation in order to vilify a candidate, on the assumption that his/her facebook followers will take the comment at its face value.

. . . Someone who drives a behemoth automobile that takes up too much physical and environmental space blames the president for 7-11’s gas prices.  It’s called inflation.  A gallon of gas cost $.31 in 1960.  Unless Marty McFly becomes president we’re never going to see those prices again.

. . . Someone spews hate-filled, name-calling verbal vomit about ALL Democrats or ALL Republicans, ALL Liberals or ALL Conservatives.

. . . Someone makes an uneducated, ill-informed joke about Mormons and their many wives.  Please.  That’s SO two centuries ago.

. . . Someone who is not registered to vote joins the conversation.  Pipe down there, chief . . . you have waived your right to comment.

. . . Someone writes something profanity-laced, mean, and spiteful, and does it all in the name of God and/or while citing the Tao Te Ching.  That’s not Zen, man.

. . . Someone who can’t balance a checkbook or pay bills on time comments about how the US should be spending its foreign aid.  Yes, let’s put you in charge of the money, shall we?

. . . Someone posts an inappropriate photo of the Muppets from Sesame Street.  Dude, Sesame Street is sacred.  Elmo doesn’t smoke cigarettes, Big Bird doesn’t carry a gun, and Cookie doesn’t drink beer.  (He likes cookies and perhaps a cup of milk, but only if it’s the weekend, he has a designated driver, and he doesn’t have to be up early the next day.)

Take a look at your Facebook feed.  You should be good and drunk in about 10 minutes. 

Chick-Fil-A, You Betrayed Me . . . OR Why the Chief Chicken Maker Should Shut His Pie-Hole

I steer away from political commentary on Facebook because, to me, it’s like listening to children argue.  I do that all day anyway; why would I want to do it while reading.  I’d rather be informed of what you ate for dinner or how many times you’ve been to the gym this week than listen to 350 of my closest “friends” explain why they’re right and everyone else is wrong. 

The thing is, we’re all right.

I’m a Democrat and Hubby is a Republican.  We vote on different issues.  I love him and he loves me, and we agree to disagree about our politics.  There’s no way I’m going to change his mind, nor he mine.  I have rational, educated reasons that support what I believe and so does he; that makes both of us right. 

Up until now I’ve kept quiet about the Chick-Fil-A debate, mostly because I wasn’t sure exactly how I feel about it.  I’m a big believer in Freedom of Speech, even if what’s being spoken isn’t something about which I agree.  I do not partake in pornography, for instance, but I support the publication of it.  It’s not my preference, so I make a conscious choice not to purchase it, but I’m not about to act all holier-than-thou and tell you that you can’t.

I understand why many people are defending Dan Cathy and his Freedom of Speech.  He certainly has that right and he has exercised it.  Chick-Fil-A has a unique business model that is rooted in Christian values, and I’m okay with that. 

But just cook the d*mn chicken.  That’s your job.  You’ve gone and started this whole sh*t-storm and now I can’t eat the chicken.

Our country is run by people who have different religious and political views - many of which are different from mine.  If a job is done well, it really isn’t any of my concern if you’re Christian or otherwise. 

I really don’t care what the man who fries my chicken thinks about marriage.

What I do care about is that we haven’t learned from our mistakes.  This photo is circulating on Facebook:

The similarities are eerie.  In our parents’ generation, some people didn’t want black children to go to public schools with white children because of the color of their skin.  It wasn’t because they were bad people; it was because of skin color.  Eventually the Supreme Court decided that every student has a fundamental right to education. 

Isn’t it conceivable that maybe it’s time for a change . . . that it’s time for us to decide that every person has a fundamental right to legally share a life with the person of his/her choosing?  Is this the photo we want running in our children’s history books?

It is ironic that Cathy stated, “I think we are inviting God’s judgment on our nation when we shake our fist at Him and say, ‘We know better than you as to what constitutes a marriage.’ I pray God’s mercy on our generation that has such a prideful, arrogant attitude to think that we have the audacity to define what marriage is about.”

Um, isn’t that exactly what YOU’re doing, Mr. Cathy . . . defining marriage as only being between a man and a woman?  Since when is the guy who runs a chicken joint the authority on right and wrong?

Perhaps I don’t have enough backbone.  I was thinking just the other day how wonderful it is that Starbucks supports fair trade.  If they were not supporters of free trade, would I stop drinking their coffee?  Doubtful.  I have told my boys, however, that we will not be eating at Chick-Fil-A. 

“Forever???” they asked.  (Insert audible gasps here. . .)

I don’t know.  I do loves the Chick-Fil-A, but at the moment, I would feel guilty if I supported their business.  I don’t care if YOU go, because in the big scheme of things, I realize that my money or lack thereof is not going to make or break their business.  But right now I just can’t spend my money there knowing that their Chief Chicken Maker was so vocal about being homophobic. 

I ask you this: what if he had said that marriage is only to occur between a white man and a white woman or a black man and a black woman?  Ludicrous.  Why does using the word “gay” make his argument socially acceptable to some people?  A man and a woman who do NOT love each other can legally share their lives/finances/benefits with each other, but two people of the same gender who are committed to one another cannot. 

It just doesn’t make any sense, and I can’t see the God that I choose to believe in penalizing people for qualities such as skin color, sexual orientation, or gender.  The Power in which I believe wants us to be kind to one another, to accept one another with ALL of our faults and shortcomings, and to be good people . . . not to interpret the Bible in ways that will benefit our own agendas.

So, for now, I’m not eating at Chick-Fil-A, and I explained to my boys that the Chief Chicken Maker went public with some comments that were not very nice and that excluded boys who love boys and girls who love girls, and in our family, that ain’t right. 

Mr. Cathy, make it right so I can enjoy the delectable chicken.  And waffle fries.  And milk shakes.  Issue a statement that indicates that you are firm in your own beliefs (which I respect) but that you are not the Decider of What is Right and What is Wrong and you shoulda kept your pie-hole shut. 

Pinterest Peer Pressure

Motherhood is like being a hamster on a wheel; you're running as fast as you can but you're getting NOWHERE.  Hubby and I were talking last night about how frustrated and restless I feel, partly because there's no end-product to show for the work I do during the day.  The "product" will be adult children who are contributing members of society.  Or at least not in jail.  Is it revealing that I feel that I don't need to have my children attend Harvard, but I teach them at an early age that they are NEVER to ride in the back of a police car?  Perhaps my expectations are too low . . .

I've been increasingly frustrated lately with the Facebook/Pinterest phenomenon.  It's a given that Mark Zuckerberg invented stole the idea for Facebook in order to make me feel inferior to 391 of my closest friends.  Pinterest is like Facebook on crack.  Apparently every other mother in the universe has time to make "busy books" for their toddlers using leftover scraps of fabric, no doubt from the adorable ruffled pajama bottoms they made yesterday.  Then she makes a delicious, nutritious meal from THE best (!!!) Mac & Cheese recipe ever.  And finally she makes teacher appreciation gifts using nothing but vinyl, burlap, and an old egg carton.

I am a complete failure.  THIS is what I could add to Pinterest:

Board:  FOR THE HOME

Decorate your countertop with homework papers, mail, and board books that are being aired out after your toddler climbs on the kitchen table and spills Mommy's Precious coffee on them.

Board:  PARENTING IDEAS

Go ahead.  Play ball in the house.  See what happens.  Can't reach the top of the fridge?  Well then I guess you don't play ball in the house anymore, now do you?

Board:  STORAGE

Add a three-hook shelf (one for each child) by the door, where your children will hang their coats and backpacks and neatly line up their shoes.  Just like at my house.

Board:  FOR THE HOME

Decorate your Laundry Room.  With laundry.  Piles and piles of laundry.

Board:  STORAGE

Need a convenient location to store those pesky door stops?  How about the bathroom sink?  Notice 5 toothbrushes for 2 boys, an accident waiting to happen the cap off the mouthwash, and toilet paper still on the roll because they don't use toilet paper.

Board:  PARENTING IDEAS

Help me out mommies.  I know YOU, of all people, know what this is.  Is this or is this not the universal signal for take your sh*t upstairs?  It's simple.  You need not make a special trip; just grab your stuff on your way up.  I took this photo on day 3, folks.

I realize I have done you a disservice, mommies, because now you feel the added pressure to run your household as efficiently as I do, and for this I apologize.

*Click those ads and tell your friends to "like" my Facebook page!

New Year's List o' Things I Probably Won't Accomplish

I am not a huge fan of New Year’s Resolutions, mostly because I hate setting myself up for failure.  Don’t you think if I really thought I could lose 10 lbs. by simply resolving to do so starting January 1^st I would have done so by now? 

Nevertheless, I am going to attempt to hold myself accountable by putting some goals (NOT resolutions) out there in the universe.  And by universe I mean the World Wide Internets.  I must admit that I do not have high hopes.  Actually I foresee a post on December 31, 2012 that includes a video of the honey badger and which is titled "Guess Who Else Doesn’t Give a Sh*t?"  

Karma, if you’re out there, please help me out a little.  I try to be a good person.  (Relax, I didn’t say nice person, I said good.  There’s a difference.  This is how I earned the nickname Sweet B*tch in college.)

So here’ goes:

1.  Lose weight

I know everyone says this, but I really need to lose weight.  I remember joining Weight Watchers once . . . yes, I’ve joined MANY times . . . and hearing a woman say her goal was to lose 9 lbs.  NINE lbs.?  I don’t mean to undermine her goal, but to someone who needs to lose, um, more than 9 lbs., that sounds like a good night at Outback, not a goal weight. 

The thing is, diabetes runs in my family.  I don’t want my kids to have the fat mom, and I currently weigh more than I did when I was pregnant.       

Prom, 1991
Although looking at it now, maybe my
Big Hair just made the rest of my
body look smaller . . . 

I have many reasons why I need to lose weight, but the primary reason is that I am getting fat.  Not just “fluffy” like I was before; I mean I’m getting FAT.  I use food as comfort, and I need to remember that food is sustenance, not a hug from the pantry.  I also realize that I have had a distorted body image for a looooong time, meaning I thought I was fat way before I really was.  Now I really am.  (And for those of you who read my previous blog entry about people who post needy messages on Facebook in order to elicit sympathetic responses, this is NOT one of those times.  I don’t need sympathy; I need a life change.)

2.  Prepare and Eat Well-Balanced Meals

It’s no secret that I don’t like to cook.  I like to eat.  Cooking takes too long.  Since Hubby often works late or has evening meetings, I usually make something quick for the boys.  Then I end up eating remnants of grilled cheese or cold spaghetti.  I have turned my kitchen into a restaurant where each diner places his own order.  Since no one likes the same thing, I make grilled cheese for one, macaroni and cheese for another, etc.  Notice there are no requests for vegetables.  I have created these monsters, and I need to put an end to my family’s poor eating habits because I am the main culprit.  

3.  Spend less time on Facebook

Facebook is such a timesuck.  Because I’m so nosy curious, I spend way too much time snooping around in other people’s business.  When I think of all the creative things I could be doing with what little free time I have, it makes me cringe to know that I waste it by cyber-stalking people I barely know.  Plus, I have a bad habit of believing things I read on Facebook, like how happy/fulfilled/successful everybody is.  I need to work on my own happiness, and Facebook makes NO contribution to my overall well-being. 

4.  Stop saying “I’m sorry”

I don’t mean that I need to stop apologizing when/if I’m wrong.  I mean when someone backs into me in the aisle at the grocery store, why is my first instinct to apologize?  I feel like I’m apologizing for taking up space, and that ain’t right.                

5.  Start putting more effort into my appearance

Perhaps this sounds shallow, but I feel so much better when I look better.  I am not the kind of woman who can roll out of bed and look all fresh and eager to begin my day.  Just ask any of my neighbors who have bus stop duty in the morning.  I am aging, just like everyone else, (even though I have a firm plan in place in which I will remain 39 forever.  Not that I’m 39.  Because I’m not.  I’m 38.)  Anyhoo . . . I need to keep up with my hair, my skin, and my style.  (And perhaps shave my legs a little more often.)  There’s no reason for me to be wearing pastel-colored elasticized pants and embroidered blouses just yet.  I remember thinking my mom looked so pretty when she got dressed up and wore makeup, which she didn’t do often because she stayed at home with us kids.  I don’t want my kids to look at me and think, man, Mom cleans up real nice, when she washes her hair.  I mean I'm never going to be a Ginger; I'll always be a MaryAnne.  But right now I look as if MaryAnne got trapped on Gilligan's Island with a keg full o' beer and a never-ending supply of Doritos.

So there ya have it.  My goals probably aren’t much different from anyone else’s.  If I decide not to run the Honeybadger post next year, I can probably re-post this one.  It will probably be just as relevant then as it is today.  Maybe I'm having a mid-life crisis . . .                                                       

Facebook Archetypes, part II

I’ve discovered some new Facebook Archetypes to add to my previous post, called Facebook, I Wish I Could Quit You.  I find them to be equally as annoying as the first 10.

1.  What is commonly known as the Vaguebooker.  She posts things like “Why does it have to be so hard?!”  This, of course, prompts replies like, “what’s wrong?” and “call me!” and “hang in there!”  and it leaves me perplexed because I am nosy curious and I want to know what the heck is going on?  It's the Facebook equivalent of the following conversation:

Person A:  "What's wrong?"

Person B:  Sigh.  "Nothing."  (please keep asking me because I need you to know how needy I am.)

The End.

2.  The Self-Portrait Taker.  Now you know I LOVES a good self-portrait, but seriously?  You’ve got 326 “friends.”  You can’t find ONE to take a photo of you?  And since when did the bathroom become a photography studio? 

This IS my sexy face . . . 

3.  The Bra Bragger.  This status update is posted ostensibly to make a point about whatever the cause du jour is, although how posting your bra color is going to cure cancer is questionable.  In reality, this is a means for women to give the illusion that they are still young, vibrant, and sexy.  Because who, (besides me of course,) is REALLY going to post that their bra color is used to be white but is now grey from years of wash?

4.  The Hacker.  He gets into his girlfriend’s account and starts gushing about how in luuuuuve they are.  “My boyfriend is the BEST thing that’s ever happened to me!!!!”  For future reference, if you ever see elaborate PDA posted on my account, you can be pretty sure I didn’t post it.  I love my husband, so I tell HIM.   

5.  The Over-Friender.  This is your cousin’s neighbor’s hair-dresser’s little sister.  You bumped into her at the 7-11 ONCE and now she thinks you’re BFFs and need to be “friends.”  She has 1000+ friends.  Oh mah gah, she is SO popular!

Friend Request, Friend Request, Friend Request . . . 

6.  The Former Teacher.  I will admit I am “friends” with some former students with whom I worked closely when I was employed.  These are girls I coached and worked with for several years.  But it creeps me out when I see former teachers make remarks like “you’re just as beautiful as you were 20 years ago” and “hang in there, you’ll find someone!”  Ooops, I’m sorry!  You must have stumbled across Facebook when you were searching for the Sex Offender Registry.

7.  The Repeat Friend Requester.  Remember the last two times when I didn’t accept your friend request?  It’s not happenin’ this time either.  I have my reasons.  Accept it and be on your way.

8.  The Photo Tagger.  I don’t mind being tagged in a photo in which I look smokin’ and lord knows I love to have my picture taken.  But if I’m stuffing pie in my mouth, (hypothetically, of course,) and you just happened to click at that moment, PLEASE don’t tag me in that photo.  Or else the next time you’re picking your nose, I’ll be watching.  With my camera. 

9.  The TMI Poster.  Recently we lost a member of our graduating class and most of us found out because of an ALL CAPS POST posted by his grieving wife.  I certainly understand the need to disseminate information quickly, but I about had a heart attack when I read the post.  I need to be eased into these things.  I liked being able to share stories and contact info afterwards, but I was wierded out by the whole facebook thing, mostly because I was scrolling through, delightfully learning what so-and-so was making for dinner and what whatsername was buying at Walmart . . . and BAM! 

10.  The Inspiration.  I am all about self-discovery and improvement, but the cheesy inspirational it’s-all-about-the-journey posts on a canvas of beautiful scenery?  I call bull-sh*t.  You know you’re sitting on your couch in your jammies just like I am, so don’t tell me you’re all zen now.

I am the first to fall into that trap of believing everyone else’s life is more glamorous, exciting, and fulfilling than mine.  Trust me.  Please remember to put it all in perspective.  People post what they want you to see.  Facebook is an excellent way to manipulate people’s perception of you.  This is why, from now on, I will be posting portraits

of myself,

my home, 

  

and my children's accomplishments

in order to make you all jealous.

Facebook: A Sarcastic B*tch's Best Friend.

A few months ago, I blogged about how I wish I could quit Facebook.  It was cleverly titled Facebook: I Wish I Could Quit You.  I was looking through my Notes section on Facebook.  Hubby says I'm the only one who laughs at my jokes and that I'm the only one who thinks I'm funny.  Perhaps he's right, but I get a huge kick out of being sarcastic.  And kind of a b*tch.


Here are my responses to one of those Virtual Slam Books.  (Remember Slam Books???)  I changed some of my responses because I came up with cleverererer answers, and I deleted some of the lame questions, but you get the drift . . . 

I could totally pull this off.  Right?

1. What's the last thing you put in your mouth? I can pretty much guarantee you it wasn't vegetables.

2. Have you ever kissed anyone named Matthew? I can't remember. I went on a date with a guy named Matthew, but can't remember if I kissed him. He took me to see one of those Chuckie movies, so I'm thinking NO.

3.  Do you believe exes can be friends? Nope, especially if they've seen me naked.

4.   How do you feel about Diet Dr Pepper?  Does "Diet Dr." mean he got his PhD from one of those on-line colleges?

5.  When was the last time you cried really hard?  when I tried to button my jeans.

6.  Where is your biological father right now? if it's the guy I think it is, at home - probably snoring in his chair, sudoku on his lap, geriatric cat (who refuses to die) at his feet, and the tv on some British mystery show.

7.  Where are you sitting right now? on my behiney.

8.  What bed did you sleep in last night? mine.

9.   Was yesterday better than today? NO, and both days involved vomit that was not my own.

10. Can you live a day without TV? Yes, but I choose not to.  I can totally quit anytime I want . . . 

11. Are you a bad influence? With most of the people I hang out with, no.  

12. What items could you not go without during the day? email/facebook. I have a problem.

13. Would you share a drink with a stranger? I'd give it before I'd share it.  Unless I was drunk, then probably.

14.  How many times have you been pulled over by the police? twice.  Recently, a cop stopped me for having expired stickers.  When I blamed it on Hubby (naturally) he accused me of throwing my husband under the bus.  He told me to change the stickers immediately and NOT to leave it for Hubby to do, to which I responded, "Of course not.  I'm not even going to tell him we met tonight!"
15.  Has anyone ever called you perfect before? not on purpose.  

16.  What song is stuck in your head? the theme song from Dallas, because that's where Hubby is at the moment.  I'm hoping he's busy buying me a giant belt buckle.

17.  Someone knocks on your window at 2 am, who do you want it to be? Someone knocking at the wrong window.

18.  Can you handle the truth? not if it's gonna hurt my feelings.

19.  Is there something you always wear? underwear. Almost every day. And my wedding ring.

20.  What would you hope to call your future daughter? an accident.

Email Etiquette - another Cautionary Tale

The following has nothing to do with being a mommy.  It has nothing to do with having boys.  It has everything to do with me being an a$$ in the workplace. 

In my former life, pre-children, I was a high school English teacher.  (I’m sure you can tell, given my many references to classic literature and my mad skillz with the words.)  On the administrative of "teachering," I had a major flaw:

It's the evil known as The Reply All.

For example, (you knew I’d have an example, right?) my department head received an email from a former colleague of mine in which he expressed interest in working in our department.  Since my department head knew that I had worked with “Paul” before, she asked me for my opinion.  It was all very professional on her part – what was it like working with him, is he a team player, what’s his relationship like with the kids, etc.  MY part?  Not so professional.

Obviously NOT BoyMommy.

I read her email, which included Paul’s email, and responded, “He seems like a nice guy, but I think he has some issues.”

And then I hit Reply All.

Oops.

I’m such a jackass.  Sure enough, I get a WTF email from Paul.  Um, he was NOT happy with me.  (So sensitive, that guy!)  All I could do was apologize, admit I was an a$$, and put my tail between my legs.

Anyway, he did not get the job and I don’t think he even stayed in the county much longer after that; not because of anything that I did, but because he just moved on.

Fast forward 10 years.  

Guess who’s in jail for a series of crimes, including attempted murder, malicious wounding, and abduction?  It seems he DOES have some issues.  Of course, according to him, he’s the good guy who made many personal sacrifices and he’s been wrongfully accused.  He’s the misunderstood criminal, rotting away in jail for a crime he didn’t commit.  He’s a literary archetype!

I’m a firm believer in trusting your gut about people.  Yes, I’ve been surprised before, but I think our instincts are usually correct.  When that little voice inside you keeps telling you that somethin’ ain’t right, listen!  Back then, I felt that Paul was a tad narcissistic and, to use the technical term, skeevy.  I should NOT have hit reply all, and perhaps it was out of line to insinuate that he might not be a good match for our department, but I gotta say, I’m feeling a little smug vindicated.

There’s a lesson to be learned, kids.  Only slander people on email behind their backs.  Trust your instincts.

* a little disclaimer – the stuff about Paul being in jail I learned via word of mouth, so I don’t have any actual facts.  But it sure makes a good story.