Kiss the Curb

LADIES! I cannot preach this enough. Having a man around: dad, brother, uncle, boyfriend, baby-daddy, you get it — is all sweet n’ dandy. But what about when you have a flat tire and all the boys are away because they are working and you get to play? Or, what if you don’t have someone to help you with little things like checking your oil — do you have the funds to pay a mechanic each time your ‘check engine’ light goes off? You have to be able to take care of yourself in bad situations!

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Okay lets get this straight: I have learned this far too late in life & I am still trying to learn new things now, but better late than never. By the way, my mother did try & teach me, I just didn’t pay attention. She had to buy AAA so they could save my ass all the time. I’m sorry for being a little shit mom. Actually, I apologize for in the future, too. If I can do that then that would be cool. Don’t follow the leader in this story okay? Actually, always be your own leader in your own story. Okay so…

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I had a flat tire while running errands around this big ole’ town and Andy was at work. I was in my Sunday best — a vintage dress of my mums, bangles n’ sandals. My tire was FLAT as a damn pancake okay. I am not even kidding I felt like I was leaning to the side like a gangster (bwaha) because it was so low. I couldn’t drive any further on it because it would mess up my dope hubcaps. Can’t have that. Those things are wayyy too clean … (one has yellow paint on it from kissing a curb in the parking garage at work…so fresh)

Andy showed me how to check the tire pressure (PSI) so that it doesn’t blow up & ruin everything (including um, me/my skin/anyone around)

Just carry a handy lil’ tire gage & make sure you know what level they need to be at. And, anyone that is laughing their asses off at this post saying I’m a dumbass for JUST learning how to do this, well I just want to help anyone (um, if you’re out there…) that doesn’t know this. I didn’t.

Anyway, I’m outta here. My point is more than made, as usual.. Roll on.

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A Mothers Prayer

Tina Fey is good but I didn’t know she was this good. She wrote this “mothers prayer” for her 5-year-old daughter Alice in her memoir BossypantsIt’s the perfect mixture of sweet, silly, and sappy — how could I not share? This sheds light on what a mother’s love, worries & undeniable understanding of her daughter looks like. Plus we all know I’m a sucker for mother-daughter themed things. It’s okay, you’re allowed to laugh your ass off AND cry… yes, even if you’re at your desk at work. Blame it on the allergie, works like a charm every time.

“First, Lord: No tattoos. May neither Chinese symbol for truth nor Winnie-the-Pooh holding the FSU logo stain her tender haunches.

May she be Beautiful but not Damaged, for it’s the Damage that draws the creepy soccer coach’s eye, not the Beauty.

When the Crystal Meth is offered, May she remember the parents who cut her grapes in half And stick with Beer.

Guide her, protect her

When crossing the street, stepping onto boats, swimming in the ocean, swimming in pools, walking near pools, standing on the subway platform, crossing 86th Street, stepping off of boats, using mall restrooms, getting on and off escalators, driving on country roads while arguing, leaning on large windows, walking in parking lots, riding Ferris wheels, roller-coasters, log flumes, or anything called “Hell Drop,” “Tower of Torture,” or “The Death Spiral Rock ‘N Zero G Roll featuring Aerosmith,” and standing on any kind of balcony ever, anywhere, at any age.

Lead her away from Acting but not all the way to Finance. Something where she can make her own hours but still feel intellectually fulfilled and get outside sometimes and not have to wear high heels.

What would that be, Lord? Architecture? Midwifery? Golf course design? I’m asking You, because if I knew, I’d be doing it, Youdammit.

May she play the Drums to the fiery rhythm of her Own Heart with the sinewy strength of her Own Arms, so she need Not Lie With Drummers.

Grant her a Rough Patch from twelve to seventeen. Let her draw horses and be interested in Barbies for much too long, For childhood is short – a Tiger Flower blooming Magenta for one day – And adulthood is long and dry-humping in cars will wait.

O Lord, break the Internet forever, That she may be spared the misspelled invective of her peers And the online marketing campaign for Rape Hostel V: Girls Just Wanna Get Stabbed.

And when she one day turns on me and calls me a Bitch in front of Hollister, Give me the strength, Lord, to yank her directly into a cab in front of her friends, For I will not have that Shit. I will not have it. (my personal favorite)

And should she choose to be a Mother one day, be my eyes, Lord, that I may see her, lying on a blanket on the floor at 4:50 A.M., all-at-once exhausted, bored, and in love with the little creature whose poop is leaking up its back. 

“My mother did this for me once,” she will realize as she cleans feces off her baby’s neck. “My mother did this for me.” And the delayed gratitude will wash over her as it does each generation and she will make a Mental Note to call me. And she will forget. But I’ll know, because I peeped it with Your God eyes.”
― Tina Fey, Bossypants

Sweet boys with good habits

Something that makes me happy:

The eight-year-old twin boys that walk their two wiener dogs past my house every single day. I’m convinced their mum wont let them out of the house until their dragon ball-z t-shirts are tucked into their jeans that don’t quite reach their ankles because they sit an inch or four above their belly buttons. And their matching velcroe tennis shoes are a must, because they pull everything together like a perfectly tied bow.

(this lovely woman took this photo of Dexter the Wiener dog)

The not-so-sentimental thing that makes me happy:

Closing my eyes while I quietly inhale pink, exhale grey, & pretend that this is my closet.

Also, when I play make believe these are my wooden kitchen utensils too. (they will be mine in real life next time I have arts & crafts time)

What makes you happy?

All my love, Bee

There once was a bag

Once upon a time mom planned on cleaning the litterbox but her ADHD got the best of her & she got distracted. An hour later, Roman crawled inside of the bags she was going to use & decided it was his new favorite place –– a little place for a little guy. Mom reacted as if he had just levitated off of the ground, which resulted in copious amounts of photos.

So irritated with me right now.

Then they snuggled & decided they had just had the best day ever. The end

Don’t Forget To Love Her

Dear 16 year old me,

you don’t know it yet, but your mum will be one of the best friends you’ve ever had & will ever need. Don’t forget to love her.