He also insists that there is a right way to put on the toilet paper roll, and I disagree, but you know what? It doesn’t matter if you can’t even put the toilet paper roll on the roller because the toddler is like a cat and will unroll it all and throw it in the toilet, so ha! We will settle this one when our son acts more like a human than a cat.
The stories we tell ourselves are powerful. They aren’t just daydreams or fantasies, they are a reflection of what is in our hearts.
I named my grandma “Mamo” when I was two. The way my parents tell it, I called her up on the phone and started addressing her as such from that day on. My sister and cousins followed suit.
When my twin and I were little, she’d watch us while my parents were gone. She had a drawer full of candy that we tag teamed to wiggle open as toddlers. There was always fruit roll ups, huge lollipops and Ritz crackers for us to eat.
We went out to her house every Sunday after church. She cooked mashed potatoes and gravy for us and also kept cans of black olives for us to stick on our fingers and run around the house before eating.
Mamo gave us different types of candy that we used for medicine to play doctor (the innocent kind) with upstairs in my aunt’s room with her stethoscope. We had play syringes, thermometers and other instruments we’d occasionally insist on using on her.
When I was older, she’d come play outside with us. We’d sit on a blanket and eat baloney and mayonnaise sandwiches and play with puzzles. Sometimes she’d bring her extra wrist watch out with us and time me as I raced to and from the grain bin. She was still able to walk then and sometimes she’d race with me.
We spent the night with her and in the morning she’d make scrambled eggs and fried spam. She’d always tell us the same story about how she and her brothers slept on opposite directions on the bed and would constantly kick each other in the head.Continue Reading
When I was growing up, we were not allowed to talk about the fact that my family participated in Halloween. This is a video addressing why.
I take my husband lunch on occasion since he can’t just go buy some due to food allergies. It is a great way to get our toddler out of the house and spend a little more time together. But this time, things didn’t go as planned.
Back when I was in some popular “crunchy” mom groups on social media, Nurse-Ins were (and I’m sure still are) all the rage. Usually a Nurse-In was set up when a business had asked a breastfeeding mom to cover up while nursing, and a group of mothers would go to that business and sit outside of it nursing any way they deemed fit (however demure or flamboyantly that ended up being), claiming they were window shopping so they wouldn’t get in legal trouble. A lot of the mothers would get excited, ecstatic even, when there was a possibility of a Nurse-In. Even some of the mothers I had a great deal of respect for participated wholeheartedly. They thrived on talking about breastfeeding rights, and regularly invited me to join them.
I never did. I didn’t want to. But that alone would never be a good enough reason for them (and when put to the test, wasn’t), because many acted as if a person who didn’t physically show up at a business to feed their baby because another breastfeeding mom had been wronged there was worthy of the highest form of social justice warrioring to “educate” on why it is a necessity to keep our breastfeeding rights.
Instead of telling them I simply didn’t want to go, I made up excuses, saying I had prior plans or was busy. The truth is, I just don’t want to insert myself in the business of other people. Now that I’ve gotten away from the enraged, oppressed motherhood culture, I have realized that I had other reasons that I hadn’t yet fleshed out for myself for not wanting to go. It was mere “gut instinct” at the time, not something I could articulate while constantly being asked to tax my adrenals and sacrifice my decent blood pressure to be angry on behalf of someone else solely based on one side of the situation.
After a while, I removed their ability to invite me to these protests, because they could not take a hint and I wanted to avoid being lampooned as an unsupportive disgrace to the breastfeeding community. I decided that I’ve already disgraced the breastfeeding community enough (which other mothers vocally told me after I started breastfeeding covered, refused to post breastfeeding pictures online and wrote an honest list about things I wish I knew before breastfeeding), so what could one more post really hurt?
Here are some of my reasons for refusing to attend a Nurse-In (besides that I really just don’t want to)Continue Reading
Age gaps are controversial in relationships these days, and sometimes for good reason.
With age gaps, you run the risk of predatory behavior or tendencies to be abusive or controlling. Other, less nefarious baggage that can cause men to go after younger women is them not being able to find good women their own age, or having emotional trauma/damage.
My husband and I have an age gap in our relationship, he is older than me by a bit, for the last two reasons I stated (trouble with people our own age and emotional damage from past relationships). Neither of us ever felt our relationship was unusual, especially considering many family members and fellow church attendees had the same age gap that we did.
Perhaps for young people who have been indoctrinated to believe it is their God-given right to have an extended period of immaturity in order to experience “childhood” and party in their young years because “LOL YOLO” an age gap would be a problem, but my husband and I were both homeschooled. This meant we were raised without that expectation of extended adolescence, and also meant that we were well versed in interacting with people of all ages, treating people within a decade of our own age as if we could be best friends. There was no pressure to conform to people in our own “grade” or class, and that gave us the freedom to be open-minded when the time came for us to consider each other as potential partners.Continue Reading