Not Fair!

Dear Children of Mine:

Every day you whine and cry abou how UNFAIR your lives are. How UNFAIR it is that you have to _____________________ (go to school/clean the bathroom/eat your vegetables) and you are driving me batty with it all. You know what, dear children? You have no idea what UNFAIR really is so I've created this handy dandy field guide. When you're feeling a little put upon and like your cushy life is so UNFAIR - pull this bad boy out and see if the situation qualifies. If not? Then shut it and be grateful.

Unfair is the little girl whose dad died fighting in Iraq.

Unfair is NOT that you have to clean the bathroom that you pee in every day.

Unfair is the little boy with one arm in Africa because rebels chopped it off to send a message.

Unfair is NOT that you have to go to bed by 9pm on school nights.

Unfair is the family that has no place to live but their car and they don't even have enough money for gas to run the heater at night.

Unfair is NOT that you have to share a room with your sister.

Unfair is little boys and girls that are abandoned at orphanages in other countries simply because of their sex or a birth defect.

Unfair is NOT that you have to eat your broccoli.

Unfair is the kid down the road whose dad frequently uses him as a punching bag.

Unfair is NOT that you get grounded for misbehaving or disobeying based on a decision you made with your own free will.

Unfair is the kid that is kidnapped and sold into slavery.

Unfair is NOT that I won't let you watch a rated R movie or listen to some rap star with a "Grill".

Again, if you're feeling like life is unfair for you - please refer back to this list. If it doesn't qualify then don't come whining to me about how unfair it all is.

With Kindest Regards,
Your fair and loving Mother.

If They Ask, I Tell.

I've always had an "Open Door" policy with the girls and some of their friends. I figure it's better for them to have the correct information and have me help them process it than to learn it on the bus or in the halls at school and have it just be completely wrong. This summer I had The Talk with Girl the Second while we were on a family walk. Don't know why but she just started asking some very pointed and specific questions, so I answered them. Most of them. Some of them she was just too young to know about.

She's had a few other questions here and there but, for the most part, seemed ok with her new knowledge. Then the other day she popped off with a question that I knew was coming but hoped wasn't coming any time soon. I hemmed and hawed and delayed for as long as I could and then I found this on my keyboard, a few weeks later:



Yep. That's what it says. What would YOU have said?! I stayed true to my policy and explained things to the best of my knowledge. I would have been concerned about the urgency of this question had I not known the circumstances.

Our across the street neighbors are gay - but not partners. Just roommates. They cross dress and pride week wasn't so long ago. One Sabbath we're all buckling into the car to go to church when out walks three men dressed as women. One of them was a really pretty woman, too! The other two? Eh...not so much. A mustache does NOT go with a studded bra and fishnets (note to you, neighbor guy), and the man that was in full drag minus the wig? Disturbing. Put the wig ON, man!

Anyway - so there's been quite a few questions about what Gay is and why some men dress like women, etc. Hopefully I handled it ok and didn't mess it all up too badly. As it was, I peed myself a bit when I saw the note! (But thought to take a picture for this blog entry. Yay me.)

I think, for me AND Cara, the worst part was when she asked if Daddy and I had ever had 'Oral Sex' and I fumbled a bit pretty much confirming that we had.

*sigh* Another topic for future therapy.

Have you ever....

Surely I can't be the only person that manages to somehow pee between the toilet seat and bowl, spraying urine all over my legs and jeans?

How in the world does that happen, anyway?

Hee Hee, Hoo Ha and Wee Wee

I always knew that teaching my kids the anatomically correct words for their private areas was risky. Most of my friends refer to these areas with cutesy names like "Hee Hee", "Hoo Ha" and "Wee Wee". Not me. Nope. I'm all about teaching them the correct names and the correct functions. Makes me a better parent, no? HA!

I've been embarrassed countless times by little ones that like to flaunt their new knowledge around in public areas. Sharing our privates in public. "Mommy, is dat your bagina?" "Mommy, I hab a penith and you hab a bagina, wight?" Dressing rooms and public restrooms are super fun. And heaven forbid the area gets hurt..."Ow! Mom! I hurt my bagina!!!" "OOoooooh....my testercalers!"

But at least they're using it all correctly, right? The terminology, I mean. Well...until today, that is.

My boys like to wrestle and fight because, well, they're boys. They play bad guys and monsters. They are expert at make-believe role play in which they triumph over the offending attacker. Guns! Swords! Shields! Magnetic fields! Today a new monster made an appearance while I was tryign tp pick out a baby shower present at the store. My bored boys were getting a little rowdy and just as I was about to reign them in I hear...

"The giant Vagina Monster is going to EAT YOU!"

*sigh*

"Boys, vaginas are private areas and not monsters. Mostly. Play something else please."

Another fine parenting moment brought to you by the Potters.