Independent Women

March 26, 2015

hadley swing

Success!

Whenever my friends tell me they’re pregnant I always tell them the same thing – don’t waste your time teaching your baby useless things like learning how to walk or how to poop on the toilet.  Things like that will only make your life harder.

When your kids are born you need to focus every effort teaching your baby three things:

1.  How to hold their own bottle

2.  How to swing their own swing

3.  How to change a DVD

No one ever believes me until they get the flu.

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Every Day I’m Shuffling

3.24.15

When my kids are sick, my first indication they’re feeling better is that they turn into little turds.  I can’t blame them – they are a monster of my own creation.  When they’re not feeling well my motherly instinct kicks in and nothing else matters but getting them well.  Everything stops – my world revolves around them. “You want more saltines?  Bigger blanket?  Smaller blanket?  Want me to turn the channel?  Rub your back?  Is your broth the perfect degree of tempid?  Would you be more comfortable throwing up outside, next to the garden hose?” For the most part they just lay there pale and glassy eyed, my offers to cater to their every whim go unheard because they feel like death’s ass.  But, inevitably, they’ll feel better and I hear the sweet words of wellness, “MOM!  MORE JUICE!  AND NOT THE KIND WITH THOSE LITTLE THINGIES THIS TIME, GOT IT?” This is my cue to throw back the covers and hustle them out the back door to ‘air out’, as my Mom says. Unfortunately, the rotten apples don’t fall far from the tree. “MINT!  I told you like five times I want the MINT FLOSS!”  I hollered to Nick from the couch, tossing the bullshit floss to the floor.  “We’ve known each other for like, ten years, and I’ve always used the exact same […]

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Postpartum Poop… Your Bowels Don’t Give A Shit

3.18.15

You may remember my friend Rita from her hilarious guest post about her righteous beard, or this bomb of hilarity that broke the internet.  Literally.  It single handedly took down a site equipped to handle millions of people a day.  All this talent AND she manages to crush stereotypes left and right as one of the country’s first female ice road truckers.   I am excited to publish another instant classic today – a thought provoking piece sure to become required reading in high schools across the country.  If you want more where this came from, check out her blog, Fighting off Frumpy, and while you’re at it follow her on Facebook and Twitter. So, without further adieu… here’s Rita! When you’re pregnant, you worry about hemorrhoids and constipation. Then as the pregnancy progresses, you agonize about emptying your bowels all over the birthing table in front of horrified bystanders. (I’ve done that. Twice. “And the turd was, like, star-shaped,” my husband enjoys reminding me, in a tone that’s both disgusted and amazed.) Once you cross all those hurdles, you feel relieved. Now that there’s no behemoth baby bearing down on your intestinal tract, you think your pooping problems are over – that everything will return to blissful regularity. You think you can stop your fecal fretting. You’re wrong. I hate to be the bearer […]

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Sans Comic

3.16.15

I break easily, apparently. Which is funny because I always thought that if faced with a seemingly insurmountable challenge I would have enough inner strength to be the poster girl for enviable courage.  Pollyanna smiling and waving to her teary-eyed masses, telling them to look on the bright side even as she’s carted away on a gurney to undergo an experimental surgery that will most likely result in a gnarly infection and eventual death because penicillin was still thirty years away.  Digging deep, continuing to claw forward with all my might despite a long road to an unsure recovery. Where this imaginary well of bravery would spring from I have no idea; I tear up with the news that I have a cavity. I am not Pollyanna.  I am Pollyanna’s hopeless, resentful, frustrated, angry little sister who lays around writing blog posts that are “scaring people and all my friends are calling because they think you are unstable so can you please take it down”, according to my husband. Therefore, in an attempt to think positively, I will tell you that at least it’s good to discover this little tidbit about myself.  It’s actually a huge weight off my shoulders to take out the guesswork; I know for a fact that I will just crumble into a little ball of pitiful despair begging people to […]

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I Made A Huge Mistake And Ruined My Entire Life… The Answer No One Wants To Hear When They Ask How Your Surgery Went

3.12.15

I apologize in advance if none of this makes sense.  I just took a very large dose of some big girl pain killers and my finger tips and eyelids are starting to feel all swimmy as my brain turns to delicious warm melty butter watching the pain flutter away from the 2-inch incision along my spine that has been screaming for attention since 3am. Let’s rewind to last week.  The cortisone shot didn’t work.  In fact, two days after the shot my numbness actually got worse and then the toes on my right foot stopped working.  Not all of them – my big toe and pinky toe jumped like obedient little soldiers when I wiggled them.  But my middle three just clung together and looked at me with blank stares when I told them it was time to move now. I met with the neurosurgeon on Friday – a discectomy was scheduled for Tuesday.  I didn’t look back.  After three years of dealing with random lightning bolts shooting down my legs, never knowing when I took my first few steps out of bed if the wrench would work its way out or if I would be hobbling around scaring little children all day, or even worse laying flat on the floor flanked in ice, I was ready to get this show on the road.  Last […]

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Two Fer

3.03.15

“What kind of music do you like to listen to?” “Huh?” “We have to put headphones on you to cancel out the noise anyway so we pipe music into them; what do you like?” Of course my answer was ’90s throwback gangster rap, but I didn’t want the MRI tech to think I was a big weirdo.  I racked my brain.  What is appropriate music for when you are trying not to freak the fuck out because you’re trapped in a very small tube for what your brain assures you will be all of eternity? I was so nervous.  Not about the MRI, or what they might find was wrong with my back.  No, I was nervous about what they wouldn’t find.  That I was just being a huge weenie, and the mountain of help I had been getting from my family, friends and neighbors was an unnecessary burden I had placed on them.  I have an unusually low threshold for pain, as was evidenced with both my tattoo and child bearing experiences, and I had a horrible feeling that this was all in my head. “Wow… it’s just a tiny little pulled muscle,”  The doctor would tell me, rolling her eyes at the nurse.  “I mean… wow.  What a waste of everyone’s time.” “Ummm… I like Katy Perry?  Or just whatever you have is […]

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Two Fingers And A Straight Pin… Who Else Wants To Put Something Up My Butt

3.02.15

Thursday started out like any other day.  Woke up, weighed myself, decided I’m never eating again. Two hours later, when my hunger overtook me and I was browsing the meat aisle, I noticed the back of my leg was numb.  Which is an interesting new development in the ongoing saga that is my back.  As the day went on, more and more of me became numb, including my right butt cheek and right side of my netherlands.  Like, it felt like I had an epidural just on the right side.  And frankly, it made me crave hospital food. Panic set in as I wondered if I would ever regain feeling in my hoo ha.  This could be bad.  I immediately consulted the experts – my Scary Mommy blogger friends.  Who understand the importance of my vagina and told me to get my numb ass to the doctor, stat.  My doctor wanted to see me right away, and with my Mother-In-Law at the dentist having her tooth pulled, my options were:  1.  Bring three little kids with me to the doctor, or 2.  Turn on Despicable Me, toss a ham in the middle of the playroom and hurry back. Sitting in her office I described my symptoms. “This is very serious,” she said. “Who you tellin’?  I got a lotta mileage left in this thing!” “I’m […]

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