Happy Monday. I am on vacation which is wonderful….besides the fact that my children have been SO difficult. In fact as I type, I am being screamed at by all three. So since they are out of their routine, I am out of mine. I decided that I will still give you some hotness, just a bunch of it at once. Ugh, vacation. The place where dreams live, then die……..
Today is Matt-O’s birthday. One of my favorite days of the year. A day celebrating my adorable husband. This year is extra special for few reasons. The first being that this is the first birthday celebration of his where he is my husband. Second reason being that we are in his home town at his parents lake house with all of his friends and family. It is the perfect setting for a birthday.
I don’t like to say I am obsessed with my husband, because that sounds crazy. But I kinda am. But not in a creepy, crazy way. In like a, I am so lucky I found someone so awesome to chill out with for the rest of my journey here on earth with, it kinda makes me obsessed way. He is the funniest person I know, he is my #1 cheerleader in every thing I do. He is respectful, supportive, thoughtful, great between the sheets and most importantly, beyond loyal to myself and our family.
People say you should marry your best friend. Which I do agree with. But you should also marry someone you are slightly obsessed with as well. Someone you can be as weird as you want to in front. Someone who commits to life with you, not just commits to you. Someone who makes your insides smile even when you have seen them for DAYS in a row. Someone who makes you mad but also makes you look forward to make up sex. It is for the rest of your life, and that shit is gonna be long if you are lucky, so make sure you are a little obsessed. It makes it so much more fun.
So I am saluting my main squeeze today, on his special day. He made me a mom, a wife, a shitty housewife and the luckiest gal in the world.
So as a mom I am constantly taking my kids to “play places.” Parks, pools, indoor play areas at fast food restaurants. Anywhere that allows them to run, yell, chase and pretty much just burn off energy. A place that when we leave everyone has had a release and everyone is so much happier.
I began thinking, why don’t we have places like this for adults? I am not talking about a gym, or a bar, or a party. I am talking about a non boozing, non meat market, straight up playground where we adults can climb, run, chase and cream and NOT get funny looks. A place where we can be as silly as we want, wild as we want and crazy as we want with no weird looks coming our way. A place where our imaginations can let loose and we can stop worrying about life for a few minutes. A place where we can burn off steam and release without booze, sex or work involved.
Of course a place like this would never exists, someone would sue or turn it into something freaky. Like right now when I googled “adult play places” for a picture for this post it was all porn…which of course I don’t mind but come on…..
We need a release. We really do. And not a “work out” or a “girls night out” or “climax.” Just a release, right? I would love to be surrounded by a group of strangers, on a play ground or even better, a bouncy house and just yell and scream and run. Sneak up and scare someone. Chase someone to the next slide. Get so sweaty and wild without getting a crazy look. I mean, how good would that feel?????? What an awesome natural high that would be, right?
Maybe one day I will turn my backyard into an adult play place (don’t worry, I will hide my vibrators) see how much fun we would all have. I bet everyone would be friendlier, happier, skinnier! Maybe for once shittier would not be on the agenda.
I had something else to post today, but a few days ago I experienced something pretty awesome and I wanted to write about it.
Saturday night, we were casually invited over to someone’s house for drinks, food and hanging out. We actually were NOT going to go, seeing as though we had a huge to do list. Also, I was working that day and working a 12 hour shift the next day and since we are heading out of town TODAY, lots of chores. We began our chores and went to run our errands. On the way home, all 3 kids fell asleep in the car. We knew waking them up and transporting them inside was most likely going to turn into a Saturday night asshole fest, so we thought, ‘fuck it, let’s go for an hour and let the kids sleep on the way there.’
We weren’t sure what we were going to walk into. Only knowing a couple people there, we assumed we would say some hellos, let the kids play for a bit and peace out. LITTLE DID WE KNOW….
Have you ever walked into a room full of humans you have never met and felt IMMEDIATELY like you had been old friends with everyone forever??? Like you were one of the group with the only exchange being a hello and a quick joke? Like you and your quirky family felt so at home with a group of “strangers” that we let our kids run inside and chill with people we just met? Well, all of those things were happening.
Jokes were flying! I heard “Is that The Shitty Housewife?” Kids were playing and Matt and I suddenly felt this odd sense of ‘home’ with people we did not even know. People of all walks of life. People nothing like us, but with SO much in common. People on different paths but with the same goal. Love, kindness and laughter. We talked, we laughed, we ate, then it got even better.
The host comes out with a guitar and everyone….LIKE EVERYONE began to sing. Old songs, new songs, good voices, bad voices. Singing classics at the top of their lungs. With no judgement, no hate, just pure love filling the room. Kids were dancing, smiles were large and hearts were full. And I believe it or not…..I WAS TOTALLY SOBER. It was one of the most beautiful nights I have experienced in a long time.
On the way home Matt and I held hands. Something we never do. He put on one of my favorite songs. He told me he loved me and that he could not imagine a more better life, even with all the craziness. With tears of happiness in my eyes, I completely agreed. We were both moved by the evening and have been swimming in it ever since.
Living in this world full of SO MUCH shit, moments like these are just fucking incredible. We are swarmed by bull shit, hate and worry all the time. The media blasts it and judgement of certain groups in society are the new norm. But it does not have to be our reality. There is so much joy and love and acceptance out there. It is up to us to find it and own it and SHARE it. People want to love one another. People want to tell a joke to a stranger and make them laugh (or is that just me?) People want to listen to music and sing and let their guard down. We just need others to help guide us there.
So thank you to that amazing group of people on Saturday night for doing that for us. For showing us there is still light and hope and love and laughter outside of our little home. I can not wait to return the favor and to pay it forward to someone else. Love always guys….ALWAYS!
Um, yeah, I am going here. I decided these two didn’t need their real names as the tag lines, because although David Boreanez and Sarah Michelle Geller are dreamy as shit, Buffy and Angel are even dreamier….and scarier, kinda???? Well maybe more intimidating. Remember how they used to kick ass? And how fucking cool they were? Well think about them now, since you are all grown up. Buffy could slay me anyday, and Angel, well he can suck my neck and draw some blood anytime.
I know that nowadays they are both married and have kids of their own and they have moved on from this series, but they killed it in the dark romance for teens. I MEAN KILLED IT! Both sexy and bad ass as hell. They were the Romeo and Juliet of the WB. They were way cooler than Bella and Edward and probably just as raunchy as Bill and Sookie behind the scenes. The OGs of teenage vamp-mance….(did I just make up a word?????) So this Monday as you get your “quiet time” think about the early 90’s and the sexy blood shed on network TV. And be thankful that this series is now on Netflix again. So now we can all replace the word “chill” in Netflix and Chill to Masturbate. Slay on friends.
Ok guys, I think we all need to take this hatin thing on social media down a notch. Look, I know now that we all have some sort of social media account, we all have a platform, but lets just relax. So much bashing, so much criminalizing, and so much HATE. It is so easy to sit behind our laptops and phones and type our opnions away. Sit back and share, like, unfriend, unfollow without confrontation. Being a hater is TOO easy. You can voice your hate and not be face to face….so simple right? But it really is just the worst. Just remember this, we are all adults, whether we act like it or not. You probably are not going to change some random adults opinions with your status update. That shit ain’t gonna happen. So lets slow it down, think before we type and stop being such assholes. We are in this crazy game of life together. We are all trying to survive and be a little bit happy while surviving. Lets fucking act a little be friendly and quit being so nasty to each other. F-U hate!!!
Today I want to give a big shout out to all the LOVE on social media. When I see sweet posts, and happiness through pictures and kind words, it really does lift my spirits. Social media has become a big part of our daily lives, whether we like it our not. So when I am scrolling through my feed and I see a cute photo of two people kissing, or someone saying something compassionate, I truly perk up. Love is so important and if we could all just approach life with nothing but love, well I think we all know what a better world this would be. So cheers to you lovers out there making my day. I really do apprecaite ya!
So every once in awhile I like to know I am not the only Shitty Housewife out there. And today is one of those days. Sure, this week I have had some moments. A terrible hangover on Sunday that made me sneak off to bed at 7:30. Another week of an messy house. That moment when my daughter told my son he was being an asshole……oops. So yeah, it’s been a normal week in our house. But today, I want to hear about you and your shittiest moment. Lay them on me. Make me laugh, cringe. smile and feel a little less shitty! Tag yourself, tell me your shittiest move and then tag a friend to do the same. I will repost the SHITTIEST move later on tonight and you will be crowned the Shittiest of the Shitties!!!!
Do we as parents raise rapist? Of course we don’t. Never intentionally. Ever. We do our best to raise strong, kind, open minded, hardworking, caring men. But what happens when we do that and they rape someone?
The Brock Turner case is horrendous. And the more that unfolds the worse it becomes. It is a complete injustice. The survivor deserves accolades beyond any we can give her, because the one thing she truly deserves is a do over of that night in which this never happened. And sadly, it is the one thing we as a society can not give her. We can never give her that moment back when Brock helps her instead of rapes her. And as a woman, a wife, a daughter, a sister, a girlfriend and a mom I feel like I have disappointed her. I should have somehow not allowed this to happen to her. He should have been punished and he was not. And somehow it is my fault. Our fault. We should not get off the hook for our inexcusable actions because we are young, white, rich and male. And now, this female sits, forever changed and there is simply nothing we can do about it.
Or is there?
The survivors parents……can you imagine? The sadness. The worry. The anger. I know her father wants to violently punish Brock and the Judge. And he deserves to feel that way. And her mom. Oh god….she probably never wants her daughter to leave her sight again. She wants to hold her, cuddle her, tell her it will all be alright, although she knows, as a mom, it won’t. As a mother with a daughter I would look at my daughter, god forbid she was in this nightmare, and my heart would break and ache for the rest of her life. Knowing how much was ahead of her and how much work needed to be done. Knowing that when she closes her eyes she envisions waking up in a hospital having a nurse pull out a rape kit. Knowing that she will have to tell her future partner “I’ve been raped. Intimacy will not be easy.” The worse thing for her mom is knowing she can’t take any of this away from her daughter. This survivor, her daughter, has to live this and there is nothing she can do to change that.
What about Brock’s parents? Well, we have heard from his dad and it was utterly disgusting. But what about his mom? I imagine she has locked herself in her room, laying in her bed, crying her eyes out. How could her son do this? How could her son rape someone? How is her son a MONSTER? She probably can’t believe it. She probably doesn’t want to believe it. She is now seeing his future in a completely different view. He is no longer a handsome, smart, Stanford swimmer. He is a RAPIST. Her baby boy whom she devoted her life too. Who she raised the best she could showing him all the love and comfort a mama could give. Her child, whom she has loved unconditionally since the moment he was a heartbeat inside of her body. This baby is a rapist. She wakes up everyday now and for the rest of her life blaming HERSELF (because that is what moms do.) The man she raised got intoxicated, and raped a young girl behind a dumpster and left her there. HER SON. How, as a parent do you process that? How do you support? How do you still love? How do you know envision his future now? Probably not turning into a successful, married, family man. That vision is gone. Everything as Brock’s mom sees it is gone. Her son is a rapist. Forever and always.
I have sons. I can not even complete the sentence “What if they….” They won’t. They will not. But I am sure Brock’s mom thought the same thing.
And Brock probably never saw himself as a rapist. This particular evening he was probably getting his pre game on for this party. Trying to look good and thinking about hooking up with someone. A situation every single one of us has been through. We have all gone to a party and had too much to drink. We have all had too much to drink that when we wake up we don’t remember. But Brock had something inside of him this night that wasn’t normal “drunk behavior.” He wanted to have a sexual encounter and nothing was going to stop him. He did not control himself. He felt entitled. He felt like he would get away with it (which he has) and he raped someone who was unconscious. I am sure Brock did not wake up that morning and think “tonight’s the night I will rape.” I am sure he did not plan this out. But when the time came he did not stop. He raped, got caught and blamed it on booze. No Brock it wasn’t intoxication, it was entitlement. You had it that night and you also had some booze as your backup.
As parents, one of our jobs is to teach our children the word no. They need to hear it. Often. And they need to understand it, fully. We are living in a world, as parents, where saying no to you kid is a BAD thing. But it isn’t. If we as parents create for them a world full of yes’ then we are creating entitlement. We are creating rapist. WE ARE CREATING BROCK. I did not grow up in Brock’s house, but I am sure he was not told no a lot. He got things he wanted, whenever he wanted them. I see this every single day as a mom. Kids wanting something, once they are told no, they tantrum and parents give in. They are quickly told yes. I see this ALL THE TIME. Telling your child NO does not make you a bad parent. It makes you an excellent parent who is teaching your child boundaries. Kids like Brock have no boundaries, therefore, when this situation arose, he took it. It is our job to say no. It is our job to tell them to be done at no. It is our job to make sure our children are not entitled.
And besides entitlement, we must teach them about ownership. You make a decision, good or bad, you own it and face the consequences. Don’t sugarcoat their punishment. Don’t reward for falsifying. They need to learn this early. My kids lie and they get in trouble. They own up or they get in trouble. Man up, always. These kids must know that.
We also need to teach them about sex and sexual abuse. They need to know words like penis and vagina and not give them nicknames. My 4, 3 and 15 month old know zero other names for their body parts besides their actual names. Empower them with these words, do not shame them for having a penis or vagina. We need to talk to them about who is allowed to touch them and how powerful sex is. We need to have open communication as they grow and teach them about birth control and condoms. It is our responsibility to take this generation and change them for the better. My kids hear the word no every day all day. They also know about their bodies and what is appropriate and what isn’t. Yes, they are toddlers, but they also are growing up in this fucked up world. We have chosen to have children and we have chosen to give them skills to make them good people. Not entitled ones who shoot up schools, cause harm or rape just because they are told no and they feel like they should have power.
I am not blaming Brock’s actions on his parents. I actually feel just as bad for the Brock’s mom as do the survivors mom. Her daughter was raped. Her son is a rapist. There is no greener grass for this situation. Brock is old enough to know right from wrong. He is fully capable of understanding a good situation from a bad situation. And he also is man enough to know that his penis carries power and he used that power against an innocent, undeserving, beautiful soul that night. That power is now gone. He will always be known as a rapist. He will always know the truth of that horrible moment. He will always see the pain he has caused behind his mom’s eyes. And hopefully now he will know what the word no means.
The survivor has a different life to adjust too. A life of fear, doubt and questioning….why me? And who knows why her. I am sure Brock doesn’t even know. But she is a survivor and he is a rapist. Moving forward we all know whose future is brighter. And she has us. The women, the wives, the daughters, the sisters, the girlfriends and moms who have her back. We are here for her fully. And so many men who are not like Brock. We are all here for her and as a society, she deserves at least that from us.
And why not listening to them doesn’t make you shitty.
I want to start by saying that I truly do appreciate and respect all the medical professionals and other “experts” in my life. I take great comfort in knowing I have a nurse’s hotline to call, doctors available for my babies’ needs, and other “rock star” mom friends I can call when I need advice. That being said, the most important expert in your child’s life, is you, sweet mama, and nothing anyone says trumps what you know about your own little person. I think that sometimes we don’t always put as much value and trust in our “mama gut instincts” and default to someone who “knows better” than we do. Well I’m here to tell you, that shit just isn’t true!!!
My mom gave me an invaluable piece of advice right after I had my first baby and she said, “Sweetie, no matter what anyone tells you. Always trust your ‘momsense”. I really had no idea what that meant until I started getting into situations where “experts” were trying to tell me what I should be doing. These things didn’t always align with what I wanted or felt was best and stubborn and strong willed as I am, with hormones raging and emotions through the roof, I began to question my “momsense”.
For example, during the first few days with my daughter in the hospital, nurses told me, “Don’t let your baby sleep too long on you; or she won’t sleep in a crib.” When actually, feeling her sweet little body snuggled up on mine was probably the most “right” thing that I had ever felt in my life. I can’t count the number of times I heard “seasoned” mothers say, “If you sleep in bed with your baby they will never sleep in bed by themselves.” I absolutely fell asleep in our guest bed with my daughter during nighttime feeding sessions more times than I can count, and guess what? My now 3 year old sleeps every night in her toddler bed without any problems at all! And I have cherished memories of waking up and seeing her angel face fast asleep.
When my second baby was born, his blood sugar was low, when they did those “first few moments of life tests”. So, they gave him a bottle of formula. Now, there is absolutely nothing wrong with formula if you have chosen that route for you and your baby, but for me breastfeeding is my path; and I am fairly passionate about that. The nurses told me that I was welcome to pump some breastmilk if I wanted, but that because he was only hours old my body most likely would not be able to produce enough to keep his blood sugar where they wanted it to be. They strongly suggested I just go ahead with formula for the first 24 hours. I had felt my milk come in and historically had never had any issues in the milk production department and so when I smugly handed over 4 ounces that I had hand expressed, they were in shock. They used what I pumped to feed him and he was nursing within the next couple hours. Looking back do I blame them? Absolutely not, they were doing what they thought was right based on their experiences and the past situations they had been in. They didn’t know me or what my body could do and if I hadn’t been as vocal as I was about my wants, then how were they to know?
Are we going to know what to do all the time? Are you kidding? Raising children is at times like trying to make it through a maze blindfolded and hammered. We do need “experts” in our life to help guide and encourage us along. But, at the end of the day, you don’t have to be a doctor or have been a mom for a decade to know exactly what that precious babe needs. It’s okay to voice your opinion and *gasp* go against what an expert or doctor has to say. Only you know that the pitiful wail coming out of your baby means that she has an ear infection; or the glint in your toddler’s eye that means you have about 3.2 minutes to get out of the grocery store before a meltdown ensues. You know your child more deeply than anyone in the world, and that makes you the most important expert they have!
Contributing Writer
Ellen Mason
