ihaveanopinionidliketoshare

thoughts on life, parenting, news, and crazy shit

Month: December, 2016

It’s Ok To Remember Carrie Fisher As Beautiful Too.

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Wikimedia Commons

2016 has been a sad year in terms of iconic people we have lost.  *We* as in the world.

Entertainers, philanthropists, activists, artists, good people who not only used their talents to make us laugh and cry, or sing and dance, but who used the fame from that to try and make this world less shitty.

This week we have all been shocked by the unexpected death of everyone’s favourite princess. Carrie Fisher was one of those unforgettable faces and actresses who were timeless.

So, this morning while reading the news online, I came across this article on msn.com  about how New York magazine got their tits in a knot when Steve Martin commented how Carrie Fisher was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen when he was young.

They went on to comment about how she would rather be remembered for her talents blah blah blah blah.

I call bullshit.

Is that what feminism is?  Disallowing any comment about a woman’s beauty?   What a bunch of double standard, hypocritical crap.   How many beauty ads are gracing the pages of every single magazine, online article or newspaper?

Look.  I agree.  Carrie Fisher’s contribution to this world far exceeds the iconic image of her kicking Jabba the Hut’s ass while wearing that gold bikini, but it doesn’t mean that isn’t a part of who she was.  Steve Martin was commenting on how that image of her was imprinted on him as a young man.  It’s one of the most recognizable images of movie history.  Just because he acknowledges that it made an impression on him doesn’t take anything away from her.   It’s his memory, and he just shared it.

For God’s sake people.  Has feminism come so far that to call a woman beautiful and to say that it is memorable is insulting?

Give me a fucking break.

For good or bad, that image of Carrie is part of who she is, and part of what allowed her to become the advocate for addiction and mental health that she did.  I’d like to think that she would like to be remembered for all of that.  I’d like to think that she would want to be remembered as a woman who was able to embrace this world, that likely emphasizes too much on physical beauty and use it for great things.   She WAS beautiful.  It’s not insulting or taking anything else away from her to say so.

Calm the fuck down.

 

What Kind Of Mom Are You At The Playground?

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Pixabay

Yesterday I decided to do the dumbest thing in the world and take both of my tiny humans to the mall in the post Christmas sales blitz.

But the mall has a play area you see.   And we were on the second day after a blizzard, it was fucking cold outside and Husband was sleeping after a night shift.

The mall was my only hope.

So we went.  I found some fabulous boots on sale, the monsters didn’t monster too bad in the shoe stores and I rewarded them with a lengthy run in the overcrowded, germ infested insanity of the mall play area.

It was ridiculously busy, so I didn’t dare even take a “mom-out” to look at my phone for fear that Buddy would fuck off on me just for a special Christmastime treat.

Instead, I watched.  And I found it super interesting to watch the other parents out there.  Their style.   Their involvement.  The way they speak to their kids.

There’s a lot of different types of moms out there.

Myself, I’m a stay out of it but watching the whole time kind of mom.  I like to see the kids play and figure out how to interact with other personalities without much coaching from me.  I like to see them react or not react to what the other kids do, and especially love to see how kids just play with other kids without hesitation.  I am always ready to jump in if they can’t figure something out, but I figure they won’t learn how to push their boundaries and physical limitations if I always step in.   I like to let kids be kids, so to speak.

Also, I like to sit the fuck down for a few minutes sometimes, and let my children be entertained by other children.

There was this one mom who actually called her child over and told him not to play with my child because Buddy at one point had his finger up his nose.  “Don’t go over there and touch where he touched”.  

Lady, while I appreciate your effort to rid the world of communicable diseases, I can assure you that every surface in a crowded mall play area contain some type of booger or spit or tears or something equally gross.   He’s three.  He pretty much has a finger in his nose or down his pants 75% of the time, regardless of efforts on my part to get him to leave his orifices alone. Give it up.

There was another poor mom who had a baby on her hip, and spent the entire time chasing her two-ish year old back into the playground.  She was the mom who was constantly redirecting her kid, and got no rest at all.

God I remember those days.  Mall people:  Can you get a brain and put a gate across the exit so this poor woman can sit down and have a coffee while her kid runs free for a few minutes?

Then there’s the dads.  They tend to not ever say anything to their kids.  No nagging, no calling for them, no baby talking them.  They just physically alter their kid’s course by picking them up, twirling them upside down a few times, and setting them down in a different place.  An ultimate disorientation and redirection plan.  I like it.  I like it A LOT.

Then there’s the regular parents that just sit there.  Sometimes they chat with you.  These are my favourite kind.  Nobody trying to out-parent you.  Not trying to tell you how to do a better job.  Just normal parents.

What kind of Mom are you at the mall, Bitches?

 

 

Motherhood: Limiting Or Limitless?

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Pinterest

Over a Sunday morning coffee while watching our not so tiny humans play, I caught myself saying the words “It can be really limiting”.

The “It”  was motherhood.   The “It” was irregular work hours.  The “It” was financial obligations and a need and desire to provide all the things I could for my kids.

But what was I limiting?

We were talking about work, career, and furthering our education.   We were talking about giving ourselves a little bit of consideration after spending time at home with our children.

And then it dawned on me.  The only thing that I’ve been  limiting was my career, and perhaps due to guilt by association, my ego. 

Because you know what wasn’t being limited one bit?   The privilege of getting to see the first steps of both of my kids.  The privilege of hearing their first words, and soothing their first face plant. I was the one to make my daughter feel better when she got stung by a wasp, and make her first sandcastle, and print her name for the first time.

I’ve been there all along.

I’ve had the privilege of letting my kids drive me up the fucking wall and around some asshole’s bend every single day since they were born.  I’ve been blessed to spend so much time with them that I need a break and fantasize about a 24 hours alone in my house.

So you know what hasn’t been limited?  The opportunity to raise decent kids in a world full of greed and assholery and downright nastiness.   My chance to make the world a wee bit better has not been limited because my ego said that I should be more than what I am.  I have been gifted this chance to have such a huge impact on their lives and the people that they become.  Isn’t that more important than feeling like I am keeping up with my friends who have high paying, highly successful careers?  Is it ok to put my family first and catch up later?  Or not catch up later because really, who gives a fuck about what I do anyway?  When did I decide that my children are limiting my life?  Because I want a better job?  Because I want a PHD added to my name?  When did I decide that being a mom isn’t enough for me?

I’ve decided that at least for now, I am ok with my primary description as “mother”. 

Because that’s not limiting.   It’s limitless.

The time will come when they’ll need me less, or at least differently then they do now.   When that time comes I will answer that quiet nagging to continue to feed my ego’s needs for career and change and education and success and whatever that entails.  In the meantime, I’m going to try to transform what I’ve been seeing as limitations into limitless opportunities of memory making and moments that I will never get back again.  And appreciating that so many of us don’t have that chance.

Kudos to all those women who work hard every day and sacrifice so much time with their kids.  Kudos to those moms who are able to seize an opportunity for education or travel or whatever makes them feel good.   Kudos for being able to balance it all.

But for me right now, it’s ok not to be the best at everything all the time, as long as I’m the best at what is most important to me.   I’m going to allow myself the luxury of being ok with who and what I am in this moment, not because I am limited by my current situation, but because I am blessed by it.

 

 

Motherhood Isn’t For Everyone, And That’s Ok.

I read this article over tea this morning and I have to say it struck a bit of a nerve.  It’s a bit long, but it describes how many moms ( and dads too) secretly resent and hate motherhood.

And I don’t blame them one little bit.

Here’s the raw truth, no Facebook filters or sneak peeks into how amazing our days are.

Motherhood is the shits a lot of the time.

It actually really fucking sucks a good chunk of the time.

I can see how so many women are just not interested in participating in something that literally sucks the life force out of you and spits you back out in an effort to still be a moderately well functioning member of society.

Your whole life now revolves around managing unreasonable, moody, nonsensical tiny humans and keeping them alive every day.   You are blessed with the task of trying to take these maniacal little dictators who push you to the very limit of your humanity every 90 seconds and turn them into someone who will not end up contributing to the general assholery of the world.

It complicates everything.   You can’t just take a class, or go back to school, or volunteer your time, or make yourself a better human in any way without having to figure out who is going to step in and do your mom job for you while you are out making yourself less of a shit.

All while not sleeping, managing household tasks, cleaning, managing what’s left of your career and generally just trying not to fucking explode into one of the 17 directions you are being pulled in on a daily basis.

It’s not for everyone.

And like anything else, sometimes you don’t know that until it’s too late.  And I can understand why some women just can’t.

Some days I feel like that too.

And yes.   I know I wanted this.   I know that I CHOSE this.   I know that so many women can’t have children and probably hate everything about what I am saying.   But Bitches.

Motherhood is really hard.   And just because it was my decision to make this my life doesn’t make it go away and doesn’t take away my right to say so.

BUT.

There is this nagging thing for me that makes it all ok.   And that nagging thing is a love so strong that not only would I step in front of oncoming traffic to save my babies, but I would do so repeatedly, every goddamn day  for the rest of my existence.   I would sacrifice my own growth for them a thousand times over so that they can become twice the person I am.

And yeah.   Sometimes it’s hard to see women around me doing all these amazing things professionally and socially and fucking just generally while I am at home trying to convince my three year old to eat his lunch and that licking ketchup off his fingers doesn’t count.

But I don’t care.   I count my successes in smiles and hugs and successful trips to the potty.  I can’t do it all and won’t try to anymore.

But for some of you out there that feel like you’re drowning and you wish that your life was something other than what it is……I see you.   I get you.   I could be you.

It’s not for everyone.   But hang on if you can, and hopefully one day that will change.

And for the rest of us……find your people.   Support your people.   Don’t mom alone….there is strength in numbers!

 

 

AfterOtis

Written by Natalie Oldham

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