Misadventures of a 20-Something Mom: January 2016   

Thursday, January 28, 2016

Wildly Inappropriate Children's Book Reviews: Volume I

Let me address the elephant in the room and go out of my way to state that "wildly inappropriate" will include the random, and often explicit stream of rubbish that is perpetually running through my mind. It does not imply that your little Sophia should try to reference this for her second grade book report. Unless Sophia's teacher is a total fireball and doesn't flinch at words like twatwaffle and cuntmuffin, in which case, reference away Sophia. (But make sure to cite your source because otherwise that shit is plagiarism and I will cut you.) I'm totally, mostly kidding about that last bit, but not about the explicit nature of these reviews. Because they'll include everything I always wanted to say in second grade, but those Baptist teachers would never have gone for. But I digress.

Alright, great. The rest of you have been warned.

First up, is a book (If I Built A Car) that has become a staple in our house, and for good reason. The main character Jack is an imaginative, pioneering badass who is way ahead of his time. Jack won't just settle for the mediocrity of his suburban existence. He has plans. Big plans.

And those plans don't include some lame ass, newly engineered, eco-friendly Wagoneer. HIS car will be a mother fucking marvel of engineering ingenuity and decorum.

Pimp My Ride has nothing on the kinds of next level innovative shit that Jack has added. Complete with a couch, fireplace,snack bar, butler robot, and Jacuzzi tub his car is sure to perform at optimal swagger levels. It could be argued that the snack service (squeeze cheese) could use a little fine tuning, but to each their own.

The car also doubles as a boat, submarine, and rocket. Considering our last minivan, which had ONE fucking job, ON LAND, couldn't even manage that half the time, this is a pretty impressive feat. I know what some of you are thinking: Jack is a spoiled little asshat who needs to shut his pie hole about his parents' lackluster existence and piece of shit car and just be glad he's not walking. And, initially I'd be inclined to agree with you. But this book's message transcends that one ungrateful asshat. It teaches us to dream. To reach for the mother fucking stars and never settle. At the very least, it might give you some ideas for your own car.

Frankly, I'd just be happy with one of those divider windows they have in limos, with the sound-proof glass. That way I can drown out the sounds of my own asshole kids complaining about our mediocre existence too.

Wednesday, January 6, 2016

New Years Resolution Ramblings: On Making Them Count

 

Today, my girl friend and I were discussing the influx of New Years resolutions, gym selfies, and tuna salad pics that have taken up residence in our newsfeeds this week. Seems that everyone and their dog is on the "new year, new you" bandwagon and apparently that equates to all of us losing ten or more pounds, voracious de-cluttering, and simultaneously spending more time with family.

(Because everyone knows that first depriving ourselves from coffee, carbs, and wine and then locking ourselves in a room with our families, whilst also running around like a little organizational Tasmanian devil, is a recipe for lifelong success! But I digress...)

Don't get me wrong. This is a totally judgment free zone. To each their own. In fact, I'd live in a glass house if I preached against this annual metamorphosis that we all attempt. I typically have a New Years resolution list a mile long...and most of them have fallen to the wayside long before my New Year's Eve hangover has even subsided.

But this year is different. Maybe it's a lack of willpower. Maybe I'm just a shitty goal setter. Maybe I'm totally overwhelmed by the prospect of changing anything but a diaper these days.

But Perhaps, it's the hard realization after 28 years on this earth, that a tidier home and a smaller dress size won't really make me that much happier in the end. (Just skinnier, hangrier, and more likely to have a meltdown because during to de-cluttering process I threw away something I hadn't used in 10 years and now desperately need.)

So instead of resolving to shed the last of my baby err..burrito weight...or spending our life savings at IKEA and the container store obsessively organizing, I resolved to look inward.

This year, I want to become a kind person.

I know what you're thinking. "Stop the presses! Did this chick just actually admit that she's NOT a good person already? What does that even mean? Like 'steal candy from babies' kind of mean or 'end up on a dateline murder mystery' kind of mean? Should we be concerned? Oh. My. God. Am I a bad person for following her blog? Like guilty by association?"

Settle down. Don't get your panties in a wad just yet. I'm not a closet serial killer or anything. And I promise, I don't have a single fur coat in my closet made of Dalmatian puppies.
I imagine most people deem themselves as a "good person." And I guess that's true of me too, generally speaking. But when you get down to it, what really makes a "good" person? Depends on the criteria I guess.

I mean...I don't recycle. If I clog a public toilet, I'm also way too embarrassed to report it to anyone and just leave the atrocious scene for the next poor, unsuspecting soul to find.
I ignore people's phone calls. I'm infamous for snapping at my husband when I'm stressed or hormonal. I lie to the kids and tell them that Chuck E. Cheese is only open for birthday parties and that I don't know what happened to all the good candy that was in their Halloween/Valentines/Christmas stash the night before.  I don't visit my grandma enough. And I sometimes avert my eyes when I see homeless people and their homeless dogs.
By those standards,  I'm kind of an asshole.

But, raging against my self-deprecating fashion,  I'll admit to also being a loyal friend, a loving wife and mom, a caring sister and daughter.
I am a true  paradox. Proof that these opposing traits can and do coexist in people. The yin to the yang and what not. But they can also get out of whack.

So, in short, this year, I'd like to find a better balance. Work on being kinder and more understanding, more often.

To everyone.
Myself, strangers, family, friends, fellow assholes, even in-laws. (I've heard there can be some overlap in those last two categories. Definitely not for me! Virtually Waves to mother in law following this blog. Nothing to see here.)

The good news is, there's no chance of failing this. There's no finish line, and If I find myself falling back into my typical asshattery, I won't dwell on it. I'll give myself some much needed grace and keep moving forward. I'll be kind, make amends if necessary, and simply try harder the next day.

No "random" acts of kindness here. Nor short-term, self-absorbed goals that I'd likely fall painfully short of.

Instead, a resolution to purposefully try to see the best in others and be the kindest version of myself that I can, all year round. This is the year I can make it count.

I challenge you to do the same. This year, instead of looking outward, look inward instead. Give it some serious thought, blaze your own trail. and make a resolution that will truly make you happier.


(And feel free to share your resolutions in the comments!)