This Is Gonna Piss A Few People Off...

I typically stay out of any discussions involving politics, religion, and sports. And for a good reason too... People tend to get far too upset when talking about these subjects. I have an uncanny ability to be able to carry on a debate/discussion of these subjects and not get all worked up and butt hurt, but most people can't, and they tend to get far too heated. I learned a long time ago to just shut my mouth, smile, and nod slightly. Rarely, and only when I feel it's absolutely necessary, will I voice my opinions or state facts related to the discussion and then leave it at that.

However, this morning, as my new boyfriend was openly stating his clear and distinct rage for our current president, with only myself as his sounding board, I had to ask him what exactly is his problem with the current Commander In Chief. He unloaded an earful, and I tried SO HARD to just do my usual smile, nod, and stay silent routine. But, given that this is my boyfriend, it's just the two of us, and there's a certain level of trust here that I've never felt before, I couldn't stop myself from defending our president. I mean, after all, I *did* vote for him. (Yes, that's right, I'll admit that I am an Alaskan who DID NOT vote for McCain/Palin! And I'm not ashamed to say it, either, thank you very much!)

During our conversation, I could feel the tension level rise, so I quickly averted the conversation by pointing out that the conversational temperature had risen rather quickly, and that I typically don't have these conversations for this very reason, and then changed the subject. (As a side note, my boyfriend is so adorable - he actually referred to our conversation as our first argument - he has *no* idea, does he?)

But, this brings me to the point of this blog post.

Our country has been an independent country for 235 years now. We have had 43 presidents during that time. (Don't forget, that while Obama is the 44th, Grover Cleveland served twice!) We've had countless Senators and Congressmen during that time. To date, we've been involved in 21 acts of war, either directly or through intervention. The first year our country came into existence, we had a national debt. Debts incurred during the American Revolutionary War were reported as $75 million. This was in 1791. In 1864, the American debt reached $2.7 billion. By the time WWI was over, the national debt was $25.5 billion. From 1980 until 1992 (Reagan and Bush eras), the gross debt quadrupled. The net public debt quintupled. From 1992 to 2000 (Clinton era), the gross debt rose and fell several times, but all in all, Clinton did an excellent job, as the debt was $3 trillion at the start of his term and had only increased to $3.4 trillion when he left office. By the time George W. Bush left office, the gross debt had increased to $10.7 trillion.

Through the history of our country, going as far back as 1775 and the start of the American Revolutionary War, our country has proven time and time again, that in times of peace, our country does a great job at paying off its debts. It's only in times of war that our country finds it's current fiscal status slumping like no other. (This is a shining example of why Clinton's term was so great, as we only had the intervention in Bosnia during his terms). During Bush's terms, we've had the Invasion of Afghanistan and the Invasion of Iraq, both of which are still on-going well into the new presidential term - simply because a sudden withdrawal of troops and support for both countries would be one way our country could commit suicide if it so wanted.

Now that I've spewed all that information at you, the whole reason is just to say that it's simply delusional to think that ANY elected president could simply step in, fix the national debt, correct everything that needs to be addressed, especially in a time of war and conflict, and to do it all in 4 short years. Our country has been in a steady and continuous downward spiral for a very long time now, despite the few terms we've had where it didn't really move much. It's never really gotten better, really, but the spiral did manage to stall a few times. So to expect this man, who has said from the very beginning of his campaign that it just wasn't going to happen overnight, to suddenly fix everything, and I mean EVERYTHING wrong with this country, is simply unrealistic by any means.

Oh, and let's not forget that this president doesn't exactly have what one would call complete power over our country. Every decision has to be made through congress. It has to pass through the great House of Misrepresentatives before it can go anywhere. To place the blame solely on the shoulders of one man is simply foolish. Remember people, this why our great country was founded to begin with... To take that kind of sovereign power away from one person and to ensure that every person was represented properly with adequate rights for all. Oh yeah, and because they didn't want to pay taxes. There's that too.

So, do you think I was right to change the subject? Dropping this kind of rebuttal during a discussion usually leaves people standing there with their jaws hanging open, eyes wide open in shock, stammering for something clever to say in response. Keep in mind, I'm the cute little girl who never says much during conversations, but can make you laugh pretty damn easily and never takes anything too serious, so when I suddenly drop these little bombs on people, I usually leave them in a complete state of shock.

Which, when I think about it, is actually quite fun. Maybe that's really why I do it.

Love Always,

Teh Best Mom Evah!!!!

*Sigh*

You know, I'm just going to come right out and say what all of us moms think to ourselves, but never really say.

Being a mom sucks. It sucks big, fat, sweaty, smelly, donkey balls. It really does.

Now, don't get me wrong, I love being a mom, and these kids are absolutely my life. My entire universe revolves around these little shit bags. But seriously, this shit sucks. The two oldest are teenagers now, and while they are still pretty damn close to me, comparatively speaking, it can really swing either way any day of the week. The 9yo is edging closer and closer to those god awful teenage years, and while she still thoroughly enjoys and adores her mother, there are times where I feel like we just have nothing, and I do mean NOTHING, in common. The 5yo, my baby, my little angel, is still just as sweet as ever, still completely innocent, and still loves his mommy more than anything in the world. I know this, because he told me so, right after he told me that I make "his heart feel good!" (How fucking cute is that shit??)

As much as being a mom sucks, being a single mother is even worse. We're expected to have all the answers, provide all the comfort, dole out all the punishment, crack all the whips, prepare all the meals, and give all the love. This can be SUCH a nightmare. One moment you're giving hugs and kisses and the next, you're spanking butts. You get all the emotional crud from the teenagers, and then have to keep the smile on your face when the younger ones walk into the room. You have to be June Cleaver at all the PTA meetings, be Elaine O'Connor Nardo when everyone needs transportation to and from events, malls, birthday parties, and whatever else. You have to be Betty Fucking Crocker when everyone is hungry, because God knows, if you feed them mac n' cheese or peanut butter sandwiches one more time, someone in this home is going to snap.

Waking up at 6 a.m., looking around the house that you were just far too worn out and too tired to clean the night before, you make a quick assessment of what needs to be done. Start with the living room, it's always the easiest, because you can watch The Today Show (or Good Morning America, depending on your taste), while you slowly finish waking up. Start a load of laundry on your way to the kitchen to start the dishes from last nights dinner, clean the floors that everyone seems to think is a trash can. Once the first child wakes up, start preparing breakfast for everyone while keeping the conscious child entertained. Then it's time to prepare for whatever appointments or errands you now have to run for the day. But don't forget to take something out for dinner, otherwise you're going to be scrambling closer to dinner time for something to make. Taking something out the freezer means you are going to spend the day running through all of your memorized recipes in the back of your mind until you finally settle on one that suits you AND won't kill you OR your budget to make AND everyone will eat without complaining. Good luck on that last one. If you make any stops at the store, be sure to remember that super duper important item that you've never purchased before that the child/teenager is throwing a temper tantrum of epic proportions to get because GOD KNOWS THEY CAN'T LIVE WITHOUT IT AND SURELY THEIR LIFE WILL BE RUINED WITHOUT IT. Make sure you spend the last of your available money to pay whatever bills you can, then rush home to start dinner, all while answering whatever inane questions get thrown at you, entertaining the youngest children, serve dinner, and then start preparing baths, fold a load of laundry from the dryer then start a new load. Argue with the children over bed time, get everyone rounded up and into pajama's and into their beds, and then finally, after all the stories have been read, prayers said, final glass of water drank, extra big hugs and kisses have been given out, then finally, FINALLY, you have time for yourself..... Only..... What do you do? You either pass out, or do more housework. Or, perhaps you have that one pet project that one of the kids sprung on you at the last moment before bed time that now you find yourself staying up all night to finish for the deadline of TOMORROW MORNING!

*Sigh* Motherhood sucks.

And then you have teenagers.

The god forsaken, punishment to all human beings, emotional roller coasters the likes of which Harry G. Traver could never imagine, hellions that they are. God bless your soul if you have now, or have ever had a teenager living under your roof. And if you are going to have a teenager in the future, prepare yourself now. RUN, WOMAN, RUN!!! GET THE HELL OUT NOW!!!! You are going to hear some of the most fucked up shit come from their mouths (if you're lucky enough to be one of the few parents that actually owns the verbal model), you are going to wonder constantly what the hell they are thinking, what the hell is wrong with them, and what the hell they are on. And you may never know the answer to ANY of these golden questions that could give you SO much damn insight into their little world.

And I do not give a flying fuck if you are a young mother and remember your teenage years so vividly because they're still "fairly" fresh in your mind, because this is STILL not going to help you. It doesn't matter if you can clearly recall all your emotional ups and downs, or what the hell YOU were thinking.... Today's generation is always going to be a little more fucked up and twisted than the previous one. Doesn't matter when you read this, it will STILL hold true. So the best you can do at times is bite your tongue, smile, nod, and give them a hug. And hope that in five minutes they'll be on to some other new drama.

Ugh. Being a mom really sucks at times.


Love Always,
Teh Best Mom Evah!!!

It's Never Going To End...

Dear Internet Publishers:

I am hereby cancelling my subscription to the interwebs. Please do not have a representative call me at home, and definitely do not send a sales rep to my home in order to persuade me to change my mind. They will be shot on site. You have been warned.

Now I'm sure you are wondering exactly what has made me come to the drastic conclusion to cancel my prepaid lifetime subscription, and yes, I fully understand that per the contract that was signed, no refund will be given. That is fine. I just simply cannot take it anymore.

The amount of stupidity I am finding on your sites, pages, and links... Well, they are driving me bat shit insane. Like "licking windows, I need a helmet, please put the straight jacket on me, where's my padded room at?" kind of insane. And I just can't take it anymore.

Somehow, one way or another (and I'm pretty damn sure that you're solely responsible for this too, but I don't know how to prove it), I keep winding up at websites or blogs belonging to these damn Militant Breast Feeding Moms. I'm pretty sure there is a conspiracy out there to convert me to their "side", to admit that there is no way I formula fed my totally awesome and kick ass children (which I so totally did, btw), or just to plain drive me crazy. I hate to admit that they are slowly winning that last battle there.

I keep coming across these bat shit crazy women, who try to convince me that formula is a product of Satan, and that all of us mother's who formula feed our children are leading the world straight into the apocalypse... like the four horsemen are going to be released at the unsealing of an Enfamil can or some shit. We're all raising a legion of devil worshipping, sickly, stupid, formula fed children.

I get completely riled up over these ignorant people with far too much time on their hands, and suddenly I find myself typing up long-winded rebuttals to these things. I find that I am wasting far too much of MY time coming up with clever come-backs and one liners to make these wretched, horrible women shut the fuck up. Time I could easily be spending shopping online or researching an ingenious cure for male pattern baldness or something.

And then I realized, oh purveyor's of the interwebs, that you could have easily prevented my mental breakdown, had you simply recognized these fellow subscribers as the bat shit crazy women that they are and simply blocked their bullshit from coming across my monitor. Had you done this simple little task that I ask of you, I would not find myself desperately trying to find a way to escape these MBFM's.

So, please cancel my subscription. I'm also cancelling my subscription to the news media as well, and as far as televised entertainment goes, I guess I'm stuck to daytime PBS which every mom should know by the time their first child is in utero, is filled with inane child programs meant to instill great knowledge (as much as ABC and 123 can be considered great knowledge) and powerful morals (such as the great wisdom of sharing) into our children... which means that my poor jelly-like brain mass is safe from the likes of your other crazy, bat shit insane subscribers.


Besides, all that bullshit filling up these tubes is bound to lead to a massive blockage that is eventually someday going to explode all over this country. You'll find me safe in my fallout shelter located securely on Sesame Street. I'll be the one hiding out with Oscar.


Love Always,
Teh Best Mom Evah!!!

We're All Sissies When The Night Falls

Something happens at night when you're going through a bad split like this. No matter how strong you are during the day, no matter how determined you are to be "okay", when you get into the bed you once shared, all alone, knowing that they're not coming back, all your defenses come crashing down. Your resolution crumbles and you're finally free to express the heartbreak that you try so hard all day long to hide. That's when the tears start to fall.

You try so hard to properly convey pain your feeling, hoping, praying that somehow, they'll know what they're doing to you, what you're going though. Then you hear a song that says it all.

For me, that song was "Slow Dancing In A Burning Room" by John Mayer.



It's not a silly little moment
It's not the storm before the calm
This is the deep and dying breath of
This love we've been working on

Can't seem to hold you like I want to
So I can feel you in my arms
Nobody's gonna come and save you
We've pulled too many false alarms

We're going down
And you can see it too
We're going down
And you know that we're doomed
My dear
We're slow dancing in a burning room

I was the one you always dreamed of,
You were the one I tried to draw
How dare you say it's nothing to me
Baby, you're the only light I ever saw

I'll make the most of all the sadness
You'll be a bitch because you can
You'll try to hit me just to hurt me
So you leave me feeling dirty
Because you can't understand

We're going down
And you can see it too
We're going down
And you know that we're doomed
My dear
We're slow dancing in a burning room

Go cry about it - Why don't you?
Go cry about it - Why don't you?
Go cry about it - Why don't you?

My dear, we're slow dancing in a burning room

Don't you think we oughta know by now?
Don't you think we shoulda learned somehow?

We Are Worth So Much More Than This!!!

Four was the perfect age for me. Life was really, really good. I was still innocent, had my best friend, didn't have to go to school yet, and everything was perfect.

I hadn't learned that sometimes mommies do something "bad" with other guys and that you're not supposed to tell daddy. I hadn't discovered how cruel other children could be yet. I hadn't been molested yet. And I most certainly hadn't learned about heartbreak yet.

I wasn't afraid of the world or the people in it yet. I was not shy, yet. I was very outgoing, rambunctious, full of life.

Sometimes I can't help but wonder what kind of person I would have become if my life had taken different turns at certain points in my life.

What if I never caught my mom with my dad's brother? I wouldn't have had to live with the guilt that I was responsible for putting a man behind bars for so long. Of course, when I grew older, I realized that if my uncle hadn't robbed that store in Florida and hurt those people, and if he hadn't fled to his brother's home in the Pacific North West, and if he hadn't slept with his brother's wife.... And if my mother hadn't decided to sleep with her husband's brother right around the time of day when I was due home from my first day of school... I still don't blame my dad for calling the authorities and turning his brother in as punishment for what he did. I probably would have done the same thing. But, if that hadn't been placed on me at such a young age, I wouldn't have carried that guilt around for as long as I did. I probably would have been a different person.

What if I were never molested? Christmas would have remained a wonderful, magical day for me, and never would have become the nightmare that I hid for 20+ years. I would have maintained my innocence for a while longer. I wouldn't have had that "secret" that I had to keep to myself because the other kids "wouldn't understand". I wouldn't have developed the opinion on sex and physical contact with other people that would later come to destroy so many relationships. I probably would have been a different person.

What if I didn't have to sneak out of the house to run away with my mom when she tried to leave my dad. What if I never had to deal with the pain of not understanding why my mom was making me hide behind dumpsters and keep my voice low so he wouldn't see us sneaking away? If I never had to witness the fights, the yelling, the threats? Maybe I would have developed a healthier view of relationships. Maybe I would have understood what a good, solid, strong relationship was supposed to be like. Maybe I would have understood love a little better. Maybe I would have been able to recognize an abusive, controlling, jealous man a lot sooner than 4 years and 2 kids into a bad marriage. I probably would have been a different person.

What kind of person would I have turned into if my life was "normal"? What would I be like if I didn't have all these experiences? Who would I be right now if I didn't have all this pain and all these dark memories plaguing my past? Would I be a successful woman now? Would I have married someone nice? Would I have waited longer to have sex? Would I have children now? And if so, how many? Would I be living "the dream" right now? I would probably be a different person.

Whoever that other person is out there, I envy her for not having to fight the nightmares. I envy her for not having to constantly reminder herself "It's not your fault. None of it was your fault." I am jealous that she never has to pretend to be "normal". She's probably never had to hold a crying child and try to explain death and why it means daddy isn't coming home anymore. She's probably never understood the absolute pain that comes with you have to rip your heart out of your chest so you can explain to a child that daddy walked out and why he doesn't want to see her anymore. She's definitely a different person than I am.

Then again, she probably wouldn't be nearly as strong as I am today. She would probably stumble over some small problem, whereas I can look at the impossible and say "that's easy!" She probably wouldn't have half the faith I have built up. She more than likely wouldn't know in the slightest how to have a truly close relationship with her children. She definitely wouldn't have the children I have today!! She wouldn't have the courage to face the coming days without a partner. The uncertainty of the future would probably terrify her.

Yes, I wonder what kind of person I would be if things had been different. But thankfully I also have the wisdom to know that I am right where I am meant to be, that every moment in my life has led to this one right here, right now, and will lead me further into the future where I will see my children succeed in the areas where I failed. And you know what? That is worth every single tear shed, every single stumble, and worth every last failure in my life. My children absolutely make every bad moment seem so insignificant when compared to the triumph that is their lives.


So yes, my husband may be leaving me tomorrow, he may be just another man to show that he's not nearly strong enough to handle this family. He may have tried to show us that we're just not worth the effort, but really, he just showed me even more that we're worth every single struggle and anyone who doesn't have the ability to see us as that shining achievement in this fight called life, simply is no longer worth our time.

So go ahead UH, walk out that door. You're only making room for someone who WILL give us their all. Hope you have a good flight.

Sincerely,
Teh Best Mom Evah!!!

Disney Needs A More Realistic Princess And I Vote For Me!

Just as pretty much every other woman in the U.S. of A. today, I grew up watching Disney Movies and playing with Barbie dolls. Needless to say, Sleeping Beauty and Barbie didn't exactly impart the healthiest of body images into my young, impressionable mind. So, is it no wonder I always had this mental image of myself that never matched what I saw in the mirror? I think not.

I've read quite a few blogs today that focused on body image. I did have some hot button topic in mind to blog about, but thanks to my mid-day nap, I completely forgot what the hell it was. And I mean COMPLETELY forgot! I don't even have the vaguest idea what the hell it was. Oh well. This seems like as good a topic as any, and I have quite a bit to say on the subject, so why the hell not?

One of my all-time favorite bloggers, this goddess, recently posted a blog in which she reveals that her and I are the same height and the same weight. I love her even more now. Seriously, I want to birth her babies!

I've struggled with my body image over the years of my life, so much so that when I WAS a size 3 (yes, hate me, I was at one point in my life a size 3), I didn't REALIZE I was a size 3 and thought I was fat. Go ahead, you can shoot me for this, I totally understand your hate right now. I have always had this thing where I never look at size labels on clothes. Imagine my recent depression when I went clothes shopping and discovered to my dismay that I am know fluctuating between a size 14 and a 16. Of course this totally depends on my current water content, which obviously has a LOT to do with what time of the month it is (hopefully these damn birth control pills will start taking effect and I won't have to worry about it anymore, but that's a whole other post for a completely different time!) but I'm fluctuating between these sizes nonetheless.

Realizing my current clothing size made me wonder what my current weight was sitting at. I'm now stuck in between 220 and 225, with that fucking little white scale of excitement and/or depression sometimes raising my hopes by revealing the occasional 215, only to completely screw me over by going back up to the usual 220-225. Little fucker. If there weren't people living below me, I'd shoot the damn thing. How smug can it be with a bullet sitting in it? Not very, I'm assuming.

Back to my realization. It dawned on me that I am currently the heaviest I have ever been in my life. And I've shot 4 kids from my cooter. One of which was fucking HUGE (an ounce shy of 10 full pounds people, an OUNCE) and caused me to be so big, my doc was absolutely CONVINCED I was having twins and that they had simply missed it on the sonogram. Imagine her disappointment when only one came out!! (An image of a doctor standing there eagerly awaiting the birth of a second child only to let a disappointed "Oh." when the placenta suddenly makes it appearance just ran through my head - and now I've totally disgusted my readers, GO ME!) And yet, NOW I'm the heaviest I have ever been.

The really funny thing about this? I am pretty much the happiest I have ever been in my life. Granted, I'm currently going through a financial crisis that would make the Secretary of The Treasury feel a LOT better about the American Debt, I'm currently unemployed and DESPERATELY seeking a new job, as is the UH (although not nearly as desperately as I am - again, another post) and I'm considering changing all of my phone numbers so the debt collectors can't call for a few weeks until they find the new number.... Despite that, I am honestly the happiest I have been... Ever! I'm in a secure marriage, in which I know dear old UH loves me dearly (although he could use a good lesson in showing it a little more - grunting doesn't count sweetie - but what husband couldn't?) My kids are simply fabulous, I have an awesome vehicle now (thanks to a miraculous Craigslist post I found), and thankfully, we have a landlord who is totally cool with the fact that it's now the 16th of the month and we're not going to be able to pay rent until the 28th. I know we'll pull out of this financial thing, so I'm not going to let it bother me.

Back to the happiness thing. I admit I have my moments. Like last week when I went to the mall with my teens. I left the house feeling pretty decent about the way I looked, but shortly after arriving at the mall, I caught a sideways glance at my reflection and realized that my normally hidden pooch was out for everyone to see. Now, I don't mean skin showing or anything, if that was the case, I would have turned and walked out and immediately come home to hide in my closet for a few days. No, I mean my sweater wasn't hanging low enough to cover my jean "bump". The one that makes people wonder if I'm pregnant or if I'm just a "chub". Upon noticing this, I immediately became embarrassed and had to fight the urge to suddenly dash into a store and find a loose fitting, low hanging XXL shirt. I rushed through my task at hand - turning in the 20 million job applications I had spent a weekend filling out - and rushed out of the mall all sweaty and ready to go home and cry into my ice cream. Why can't I lose this weight? It's not like I want to be super-model thin, I just want to be in the recommended "healthy" range! For once!!

So, with teenagers securely in the momvan and wondering what the hell just happened, we drove to McDonald's for a $.50 ice cream cone and then drove home. Then something weird happened. I got angry. I was SOOO pissed at myself. Who gives a flying fuck if you have a "pooch"?? You DID, after all, spit 4 giant kids from your crotch!! You're currently on your 3rd marriage! You're about to turn 30, and you've lived shit that most people only read about or see in movies!!! (No, seriously, I've done and seen some shit. All for later posts, trust me!) That's when I had a serious conversation with myself, which almost never happens because I'm usually more of a bullshitter with myself than I am with anyone else... which I admit, is a little weird.

I have curves that half the women in this country spend tons of cash trying to create. I have a husband who dearly, and I do mean DEARLY, loves my curves (I'm lucky if I can get him to keep his hands off of me for 5 minutes - he's like a teenage boy when it comes to that). I'm talented, I'm charming, I'm super duper sickeningly nice to the point that it's hard to dislike me. I'm an annoyingly loyal and great friend. Like drive over to my best friends house and leave a picture of a sammich on her front door for her to find in the morning all because of an on-going joke about MAKING HER A DAMN SAMMICH WOMAN!! (The best part was that she knew SOMETHING was coming, but didn't know what!) I'm charitable to the point of putting myself in some serious debt to help a fellow human-being out. I'm a devout Christian, but nowhere even close to those Westboro fuckwads and won't ever try to convert you or shove a bible down your throat or up your ass... depending on what you're into, that is. I'm a fucking awesome mother to these kids. The world is a fucking lucky place to have me as a part of it, plain and simple. All 220-225 pounds of me!!

The only sad part about all of this, is that it took me 29 and three quarters years to come to this conclusion. I wish more girls today could realize that no matter what their body type is, they're all simply beautiful because of the unique and wonderful people they are on the inside, no matter what Cosmo magazine or Vogue or Hollywood tells them. I can only hope that I can impart that mentality into my two girls, and teach my boys that beauty is about more than what's on the outside. Hopefully, I can raise a whole new generation of girls that love themselves no matter what their label or scale say, and boys who love women because they're strong, confident, opinionated, beautiful women and not because of the media has told them is beauty. I think I'm well on my way to achieving that goal.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go find some ice cream, because it's effin' hot in this house!

Sincerely,
Teh Best Mom Evah!!!

I Really Can't Believe This Is Even A Hot Topic!!!

Fucking God Damned Christ In Hell Stupid People Piss Me Off!!!!!

Okay, so now that I got THAT out of my system, onto today's post. I'm a little earlier tonight than I was previously, mainly because everyone else went to bed earlier too. And yes, I'm so totally listening to the scanner right now too!!

I'm a little pissed off because I had several topics I wanted to blog about tonight, but now I can't remember a single one of them because of the stupid drama that unfolded today that is now going to take up my whole post.

Probably.

Sooooo, and yes I will admit, that this is turning into a much more sensitive debate than any political or religious debate could ever HOPE to be, and honestly, it's just plain stupid. The debate? Breastfeeding vs. formula feeding. *Ducks as random objects are hurled at her head* Damn people, I haven't said what side I'm on yet!!! See what I mean??

Here's my take on the whole damn thing:
It's a fucking personal choice!! That's really ALL it is. You're neither a bad mother or a good mother for choosing EITHER side!! I can list a TON of pro's and a TON of con's for BOTH sides, and you know what? They come out just about even. You throw any argument at me, and I will throw one right back to counter what you just said to me. Go on, I dare you. I actually DID my research on this one today, as this little dramafest unfolded before my very eyes. You see, I'm a Libra true and true. You know, "The Diplomat", "The Scales". We're born debaters, able to see BOTH sides of an argument, and we do our research so we can present the best, most logical argument for a case. (I wouldn't be surprised to hear that most of the great lawyers and judges in this country are in fact Libras. Someone look that information up for me, will you? I'm too lazy right now.)

What basically happened was one of the many militant breastfeeding mother's on my friend's list (yes, on FB. I'm totally ashamed. But whatev) got her maxi pad all in a bunch because she read on a mutual new mother's FB that she had stopped breastfeeding and had switched to formula. To say that this mother got her maxi pad in a bunch is a bit of an understatement. It's more like she got it all doubled over, twisted around, and somehow shoved up her ass. She totally flipped out about a mother of a newborn (not exactly newborn, the baby is now just over 2 months old) dares to feed her child formula (someone please queue the over dramatic DUHDUHDUH music)!!! How dare her do this atrocity to her child!!! So, this militant mom goes on her blog which EVERYONE has access to, mainly because she constantly pushes it on everyone via FB - Hey, I'm all for blogging, obviously, duh! But I do not push my blog onto my friends and family. Hell, they don't even know this shit exists!! That's the wonder of anonymity - no self editing to protect my inner circle of friends/family feelings!! Anyway, she goes on her blog and publicly blasts the other mother and says things like "I don't care what your reasons are, you're just wrong... Formula feeding is just wrong, no excuses!" and "you formula feeding parents have screwed our future". She goes on and on and not in exactly these words, but pretty much calls the other mom lazy and then blasts her for being a bad mother to that poor helpless defenseless child who is too young to know the difference between breast milk and formula!! (Now I need someone to queue the sad violin music!)

I have to say that this exchange really REALLY rubbed me the wrong way. Like sandpaper on the cooch wrong. I was fucking FURIOUS over this. All because this was simply the straw that broke this camel's toe. Wait, that's not right. Broke it's back. Yeah that's it.

I don't know why, but I have a a good handful of these damn militant breastfeeding moms on my FB. All of them know me well, most of them have known me for a very long time. One in particular has known me for over 10 years now, knew me when I was preggo with my 10yo girl, was around after her birth and for fucks sake, should honestly know I formula fed. But for WHATEVER reason, these women seem to forget what kind of mother I am, and automatically assume I'm going to take up their cause simply because I have honestly raised 4 of the best god damned kids you'll ever be lucky enough to meet. I'm not shitting you, my kids are fucking fantastic, and I'm not just saying that because I'm their mother and could possibly be a little biased. I'll admit, the 13yo boy could use a lot of work, but it's nothing that my recently returned home little brother can't help. The boy just needs a good strong positive male role model in life to help him through some of his awkwardness. But all in all, he's still a damn good kid. They all make me super duper proud, and yes, I am one of those annoying as fuck parent's that constantly brag about their kids and how cool they are, so fuck off about it already!!

When I say my kids are awesome, they truly fucking are. They're exceptionally brilliant, with all of them pulling top grades at a constant rate, they're all musical geniuses (hell, the oldest has been asked and asked and begged to play for our city's youth symphony - yes, she's that damn good at what she does!! And the only reason the other's haven't yet is because they don't meet the minimum age requirements yet!) But on top of being super smart and super musically talented, they're also some of the most polite children you will ever meet today too. "Yes, Ma'am", "No, Ma'am", "Please", "Thank you!" "May I..." are all a constant part of their vocabulary. They're all involved with one of the youth groups at our church (yes, this foul mouthed FUCK YOU mother attends church on a regular basis!!) On top of all of that, they are also some of the funniest damn kids I have ever been around. They're not stuffy, they're not stuck up, they accept everyone as they are, no questions asked. My kids are super polite in social and public situations, but at home they are free to be who they want to be, and they're totally comfortable telling fart jokes, blond jokes, you name it, and honestly, some of the funniest shit I've ever heard has come from banter between them!! This is how I've raised my kids. With a firm but loving hand. They knew their limits at a very early age and they've known their whole lives not to push them, because while mom is their best friend, she is also mom. And for a vast majority of their lives, I've been a single mom too. To say that I am very proud of these kids is to put it as a mild statement. These kids are single handedly my life, and I have put them above and before literally EVERYTHING else in my life!! I'm currently unemployed because my previous employer had the AUDACITY to tell me that I needed to get my priorities in order because I had requested to leave early for one of my children's functions. I simply told them that I DID have my shit straight, and that perhaps one of the biggest problems with today's society is that there are too many people like him that DON'T have their shit straight. Needless to say, he didn't agree with me. Shame for his wife and kids though. Maybe I shouldn't have said that either. Oh well! More time for these fucking fabulous kids of mine!

Back to the offense at hand. These damn Militant Breast Feeding Moms (MBFM's), always seem to forget that I formula fed my kids. Perhaps it's because they see the awesome that is my children and think to themselves "there's no way they came from a can!!" so they go on these marches, parades, rants, public bashings calling formula mothers "lazy" and "bad" and "stupid" and then, while they are standing there on their soap boxes, have the audacity to reach out and elbow me and say "ISN'T THAT RIGHT, BEST MOM EVAH??"

Ummm. No. I formula fed my kids you cunt. Fuck off.

And it's not even JUST the fact that they are basically calling me lazy, bad, and stupid that really pisses me off. And I mean that does a good number to my temper levels, but honestly, I don't give a shit what people think of my parenting skills, because really, all they have to do is look at my kids and that's enough to shut the mouth of even my toughest critic (which honestly, more often than not, is me anyway. You wouldn't believe how often I have to tell that annoying bitch in my head to shut the fuck up!)

What REALLY gets me going on this WHOLE FUCKING TOPIC, is that great parents are being bashed for a simple choice, when there are god awful parents out there who could give a fuck less about what their child eats, and treat their children worse than scum at the bottom of a nasty dumpster behind that greasy spoon down the street. There are children out there in the world today who have never heard a kind word or even understood what the REAL concept of love honestly is. There are children out there in the world RIGHT NOW that are being beaten, raped, burned, and starved to death, and yet... YOU WANT TO BLAST SOMEONE BECAUSE THEY FORMULA FEED????? For fucking Christ's sake people, if the WORST thing a mother ever does to her child is feed them formula, than that right there folks is one seriously blessed child!!! Get the fuck over this dumb ass debate, turn your hatred and anger into something useful and go volunteer to be a Court Appointed Special Advocate. Make a change in one of these abused and/or neglected children's lives. Show these special children that someone, somewhere out there honestly gives 2 shits about them!! Maybe then you'll see that this god damned debate is about the dumbest fucking thing you've ever heard in your life!!

And if you can't see that, then fuck off anyway you miserable pig!!

Love Always,
Teh Best Mom Evah!!

P.S. ~ I would just like to let everyone here know that my bestie kicked her way out of her mom's cooter and demanded Taco Bell. She told me this, and I totally believe her. And you should too!