Vloggity Vlog Vlog...

Head over to The Fort to play along with this Vlog Carnival that Bubbles has going on. It's pretty simple. You get in front of a video camera and talk about an emotion you had this week. Easy Peasy! I have a couple of reasons why you should:

1. It forces you to step out of your comfort zone and show everyone your ugly mug!

2. I did it...and I'm all about peer pressure. So, come on...do it!! Please!

3. Oh...I almost forgot. There is a prize at stake. A good one. A REALLY good one. So, head on over and see for yourself.

I'll show you mine, if you show me yours!! Deal? I thought so!

A "touchy" subject...

Maturbation...THAT'S what I'm talking about. That's your fair warning...if you're offended by it, this is your chance to pack your things and head home. Thanks for stopping by!

I'm not just talking about masturbation and how I dig it the most. Uh-uh. This is on the subject of teaching kids about masturbation. Allright...another fair warning and I may have offended even more of you than before. So, thanks for trying to stick this one out with me. I appreciate the effort.

Anybody left? Oh, just you in the back...allright Pervy Perverson, let's do this thing. Shall we?

From what I have gathered...boys pretty much figure this stuff out on their own. Obviously, I have to teach them not to do it at the dinner table...and let them know that there are appropriate times and places to do the deed.

This is a-whole-nother ball game when dealing with girls.

I grew up in a home where it wasn't spoken about...AT ALL. Which led me to believe that it was wrong and that if I had anything going on down there, I was going directly to hell. Immediately. On the spot. Period. I don't want my kid to go through that. I don't want her to be ashamed of something that's natural, and normal, and healthy!!

Plus, I have a huge problem with the whole double standard on the issue. Everyone knows why teenage boys take long showers and why they have crusty socks hidden under their beds. It's what boys do, it's normal. For some reason, it's just not the same for girls.

Maybe it's an anatomy thing. Boy parts are just dangling there...easily seen and easily investigated. Girl parts are a bit more mysterious...a bit more complicated.

I think that if my girl had a healthy relationship with...uh, herself, then she would have more confidence and power. By power I mean...power to say HELL NO to the pubescent pressures of boys.

After Oprah's show on this subject, a ton of people wrote in to her that they were "appalled" that people would teach their young girls about this. That it was "wrong" and a "sin." Personally, I think these people are "appalling," but, what do I know!

So, what do you think? I guess it goes back to the big debate. Will providing this information empower our children...or, will it give them enough rope to hang themselves?

A smart girl...

A conversation with the girl, on the topic of her wanting a guinea pig...

Her: Mom, I really, really, really want one now. I don't want to wait.

Me: Well, I'm sorry. You don't quite have enough money. Keep saving and you'll get there. Or, just ask for one for your birthday.

Her: My birthday is too far. What's the next holiday that I could ask for one.

Me: Your birthday. Sorry, chica...but, the fat man already made his rounds and the bunny has hopped on by. Your fresh out of gift giving holidays until your birthday.

Her: What about Mother's Day?

Me: Dude...have you given birth?

Her: No.

Me: Mother's Day is for mother's...like me. I get presents on Mother's Day, not you. Speaking of, it's like two weeks away, so tell your dad that y'all have to get me something good, 'kay?

A few minutes of silence...

Her: I know what I'll get you.

Me: Really, what?

Her: A guinea pig.

Me: I don't want a guinea pig...thankyouverymuch!!

Her: Then, can I have it.

Me: Well played child...WELL PLAYED!!

Six word Saturday...

"It turns out...dad's CAN multi-task!"

Click the button below to check out more Six words...

I did it...

I TOTALLY DID IT!!

Now, be nice mother fuckers...

Okay...I'm waiting! Where's yours??

Let's do it...

Everybody's doing it. I think we should, too. I know you want to.

Come on, let's try it...if we don't like it, we never have to do it ever again. Deal?

Plus...

Heidi just got done doing it.

My friend Jess did it in Canada!

Bubbles does it ALL THE TIME!

I think we should take it to the next level.

I just want to get to know you even better.

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No, these are NOT the pleas of pubescent boys that I heard nearly EVERY weekend between the ages of 15 and 18, usually late at night, and almost always in the backseat of some losers' car. NO WAY...I'm not that kind of girl.

Although, I can see where you might have been confused, if you'd read this post!

This is my pitch for us to do a video post...OF OURSELVES...in all our glory...for all to see. Ya know, to put a face with a voice all at the same time. I'm gonna do it...anyone else game??

The world spins only forward...

Do you ever think about the moments in your life that change you. That have made you into what you are. I'm not necessarily talking about weddings, or births, or even deaths. I'm talking about those random times, maybe it was just a Tuesday, no different from any other...and you had a realization, or a moment of clarity. Something in your head even...when you learned something about life, and it changed you.

This is one of the more momentous ones in my life...

It was the day after The One I Miss died. The One and I were on our way to buy clothes we did not want, for a funeral we never imagined attending. I remember feeling numb...maybe it was hollow. Either way, it wasn't human.

We walked into the mall and it was shiny...and sunny...and fresh. It pissed me off. We meandered through lanes of people...happy people. I saw smiles, heard laughter, and smelled Cinnabons for fuck's sake. It infuriated me.

I remember perilously searching the faces of strangers...looking for sympathy, compassion, understanding...something. Anything.

I thought to myself...

What the hell are these people doing? Why don't these people understand? Why can't they see my pain? They're shopping for sunglasses and sipping on their fucking Jamba Juices, while I am looking for an outfit to bury my boy in.

I was appalled.

The more I searched, the more frantic I became. In that moment, I hated these people and their callous countenances. I hated my life and the shitty hand I'd been dealt. I hated the world and it's relentless rotation. I hated it all.

Then, it came. My moment. My realization.

Life goes on. It seems so simple and so obvious as I type it...almost silly. But, when tragedy hits you, in any way, shape, or form...it's easy to get lost in it. To feel sorry for yourself and to give up on ever finding a way out.

Walking through the mall, I realized that these people...and my family...and my friends...and the world wasn't going to stop and wait for me to "get over" the loss of my son. They would all move on...with, or without me.

Contemplating motherhood?

Lindsay at The Musings of the Mrs. was asking for opinions about motherhood, and pregnancy, and babies...and when is the right time to do it all. So, this...is a letter to a fellow blogger who asked for an HONEST opinion...

Dear Lindsay,

This letter isn't in any way meant to deter you from becoming a mom. I'm all for procreating...obviously. I would just like to share with you a few tidbits that no one tells you about motherhood.

Speaking from a primal, animalistic, perspective...I feel that babies are born kinda cute and cuddly so that we won't kill them. Because if they were ugly and nasty...AND woke us up every two hours, cried all the time and shit in our beds...we would never keep them, and most likely would not let them survive. From an evolutionary standpoint, I feel the human race would have died out long ago if babies were ugly.

So, when you tell people that you are "trying." They immediately think of that pink, delicious smelling, peacefully sleeping, precious little bundle of a baby. They get all gushy and gooey and tell you how wonderful it is. They aren't lying to you. When they are freshly bathed, content, and sleeping peacefully...motherhood is fucking AWESOME!!

People also say that motherhood is "rewarding." They aren't lying to you, but do you know what else is "rewarding?" Surviving a plane crash. Enduring the death of a loved one. Failing, but being able to persevere. Trials and tribulations are rewarding in life...you get where I'm going with this? It's gonna suck sometimes, but it's gonna not suck just enough to keep you in the game.

I recently overheard this bit of advice from one deluded mother to a newbie, "Remember, the first 6 weeks is the hardest. Once you make it past that, it's so much fun." BULL-FUCKING-SHIT, man. This is a BOLD-FACED LIE. I'd like to rip that woman's tongue from her head for spreading such a farse. I've been at it for 12+ years...and it ain't gettin' any easier. It's just getting...different. Just when you think you have it down...have mastered a phase...the kid moves on to the next. The game changes, new rules, new players...back to square one.

Having said all that, there is nothing in the WORLD like watching your husband melt, as his baby girl is placed in his arms. You'll see a whole new side of him, and fall in love with him in a way you didn't know was possible. There is also nothing in the WORLD like watching your little boy talk, and act, and dress like his daddy...out of pure and utter admiration.

My honest opinion...go for it. You will feel new depths of love, pride, heartache, pain, sacrifice, vulnerability, joy, and satisfaction. Motherhood is "wonderful", and "rewarding", and absolutely "worth it."

All the best to you,
Nikki

A story only a mother could listen to...

I just wanted to share a snippet of the torture I go through on a daily basis. On average, I hear about ten stories just like this, each and every day. Sometimes, it's actually the SAME story over and over again!! Makes you kinda feel sorry for me, doesn't it?

You'll get the gist of the clip very soon after it begins. So, feel free to quit watching after the fifth, or tenth, or 700th, "um." I kept trying to stop recording, for the protection of your sanity...but, the kid kept saying, "Wait, my story wasn't over yet." Then we had to start over, and I almost wished I was the naked girl in the bathtub, and that some knife wielding man would come and put me out of my misery!!

P.S. I showed the kid the video...you know, tried to give him a taste of his own medicine...and this is what he said:

TOWGAWM: "Mom...um...you know that part in the video...when you...um...asked me if, um, that girl was naked?"

Me: *OMG...are we seriously doing this? Way to go, Nikki, now look what you've gone and done!*"Yeah??"

Him: "Well, um, I almost said a bad word on the video."

Me: "What were you gonna say?"

Him: "Well, um, when you asked me if she was naked...I was gonna say...HECK YEAH SHE WAS NAKED!" *maniacal laughter ensued*

He's such a freakin' perv!!

Six word Saturday...

"How Dad dresses her for school!"


Note to self: ALWAYS help the child lay her clothes out the night before school...OR, wake your lazy ass up early in the morning for wardrobe approval!

Friday Flashback...

Lately, I can't get this song out of my EFFING head! But, I ain't mad at it.

I love this mashup so much it's ridiculous.

Cuz sometimes, I just feel like a pimp!

My ink...and shit

These are my prized possessions.
You've seen this one, but I always forget to show you the coolest part. For our tenth anniversary, we got these bad boys. They are ambigrams, so they read the same upside down as they do right side up. This is my fave!!


This one is a Celtic Motherhood knot. It represents my heart intertwined with my kids' hearts. The dots represent each of my four offspring.


Last, but not least, is my tat honoring The One I Miss So Terribly on the outside of my ankle underneath the bone. The heart represents the part of him that still lives, and his angel wings.


I'll be adding one more, soon. I will get a Japanese Cherryblossom branch or tree on my back. It's gonna be a big one...I'm still trying to find the perfect depiction.

Anything you've permanently scarred your body with??

Tuesdays with Cletus...

WARNING
This post contains graphic images!!
Cletus sprung dissection on us last night. Not because the lab made an unannounced delivery of preserved fetal pigs...uh-uh!

Meet Fluffy. He once brought joy and purpose to someone's life. Until he became gravely ill and was euthanized by Cletus. Then, she lied and said she'd bury him, threw him in a cooler in the back of her truck, and brought him to class to dissect.


This, is a baby opossum. A baby opossum orphaned by his mother, who forgot to look both ways before crossing the street. What does one do with a litter of abandoned baby opossums? Why, you put them to sleep, then throw them in the cooler in the back of the truck, and bring them to class to cut up. Along with Fluffy!


At least we didn't have to deal with the overpowering smell of formaldehyde!!

You can call me...

the Anti-MckMama!!!

It seems, that someone has found my blog by searching for "anti-mckmama" on Google. How awesome is that?? It may be one of the highest compliments I have EVER been paid!!!

So, for all of you MckMama lovers...this is my tribute to, well, myself really. A tribute to everything I am, that she, most definitely, is NOT!!!

I used to think I was defined by my baby making, non-praying, temper flaring, constant swaring, Texas dwelling, often yelling, Happy Meal eating, redneck speaking, photograph taking, kidless travelling, tattoo addicted, television worshipping, Dr.Pepper drinking, deep thinking, late sleeping, nurturing the independence of my children - ways.

I may choose to still do those things, but, I will simply be the Anti-MckMama, a sinner trying to save face, wife to The One, mother of three HELLACIOUS children.

Aspirations...

We don't cuss in front of the kids. YES...you heard me right. It might surprise you, but, I control my potty mouth in front of my children. In front of you, notsomuch...in front of the kids...most definitely!

However, some of the music we listen to is not so child friendly. Our kids are getting older though, and they know what they can and cannot say. They know what words will get their mouths washed out with soap.

We were listening to this song in the car the other day...

and had the following conversation...

This songs' lyric: It takes more than fucking someone you don't know...

The One Who Gets Away With Murder: "OOOOOOO...when I grow up, I'm gonna say the F-word and the S-word!"

Me: "Well, when you grow up...you can say whatever you want. But, you can't when you're a kid."

The One: "Yeah, when you're 16, you can say those words."

TOWGAWM: "I can?"

The One: "Yeah, if you can drive, then you can cuss."

More lyrics: Did you really think that a fuck at half speed, you'll find your love in a hole...

TOWGAWM: "WOOHOOOOO...did you hear that? YEAH...THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT!!! I'm gonna say THAT word when I grow up!!"

Me: "Allright, allright...when you're 16 and NOT in front of your grandmothers, capiche??"

The first of many...

The One Who Gets Away With Murder got an office referral!!

Yeah, I'm not really that surprised either. It just sucks that he's only in Pre-K...he's not even supposed to be in the public school system yet, and the kid already has a record!!

In case you can't read it, the teacher noted that...

"During large group time, TOWGAWM was kissing the sky and making noises."

Dammit...the kid must have found my stash and dropped some acid for breakfast before school. I'm gonna be pissed if the little stoner took it all!!

God, sup? It's me again, Nikki...

For some reason, when I argue evolution and creationism in my head, I always end up thinking about sex. Like I did in this post.

I believe in a higher power, but I'm still always looking for proof. So, I ponder it a lot and it seems to me, that procreation and everything involved contains the most physical "proof" of intelligent design.

These are my latest thoughts on the subjects of divinity and reproduction...

In order to "Be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the earth" (Gen 1:28...look at me quoting scripture and all!), we have to have sex. To ensure that these two selfish, wandering, naked man and woman would actually do as commanded, God made orgasms delightful for his pleasure seeking creations!

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Since orgasms are delightful, indeed, the conversation must've gone something like this:

Adam: "WOOHOOO...OMG, that was AWESOME. That was AMAZING...we have to do that EVERY.SINGLE.DAY. Deal? Do you think it's possible to do it more than once a day...we should try that!!"

Eve: "It was amazing...I felt so close to you and that one part...was INCREDIBLE. I just wish it lasted a little longer...do you think you could make that happen?"

Adam, mouth agape and spent, is snoring...

Eve: "Adam...ADAM...DUDE...would you wake up. I wanna cuddle and talk."

Nine months later, when Cain ripped forth from Eve's loins wet, and bloody, and screaming...

Eve: "I hope you enjoyed yourself...because we are NEVER doing that again...EVER!! If you ever come near me with that thing again, so help me God...I will bite it off!!"

Adam: "But, baby...don't you remember how good it felt in the beginning. Remember how fun that was?"

Eve: "Yeah, it was good, wasn't it! Allright, yeah...maybe we should do some more of that!"

And blinded by their own self-gratification...generations of humans were created for thousands of years.

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Now, let's say that orgasms hurt like a sonofabitch. The conversation:

Adam: "HOLY SHIT! WTF was that?? OMG...I thought it was going to fall off for a second! Damn, baby...let's not do that again. EVER!"

Eve: "AAAAAAAAAAAAGH...OMG...are we gonna die? Is this how it ends?

9 months later...out pops Cain...lots of blood, tears, sweat, and screaming...

Eve: "AAAAAAAAAAAAGH...OMG...am I gonna die? Is this how it ends?"

A few years of parenthood later...

Adam: "Fuck this...not only did that shit hurt like hell to do, but now we have this helpless, crying, peeing and pooping little brat taking our food and tying us down. Let's NEVER do that again...EVER. Deal??"

Eve: "I'm so glad you feel the same way...this sucks. I'm stressed, I'm tired, I just want some "me" time. You have a deal, baby!"

Thirty years later, Adam and Eve die. Thirty after that, their one and only son...the only human on earth dies, too. The End.

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To sum up...chalk one more up for intelligent design. Because, somebody up there knew EXACTLY what he was doing!!

Mutiny...

When The One Who Knows Everything gets in trouble at school...it's shame on him!!

Later in the week, when The One Who Gets Away With Murder gets in trouble at school...it's shame on him, AND shame on the cosmos for giving me two little brats to deal with.

Then, when very soon after the first two do, The One Who Doesn't Say Much lands herself in trouble at school...it's shame on me. Aaaaaand shame on the cosmos just a little, because I'm not going down alone...eh-eh. That's not how I roll!!

All three of my brood acting up at school can only mean one of two things:

1. I'm not doing my job very well at all...and my offspring are trying to tell the world, "Hey, my mom sucks...I can act like an asshole and there is nothing anyone can do about it!"

or,

2. I've done my job extremely well, and using their above average intelligence to realize that they outnumber good ole mom and dad, they have formed a coup d'etat...and the little shits plan to take over the house.

To protect my dignity and reputation, I'm leaning toward #2.

The corners of my mind...

This is what I find when I delve into the corners of my mind...

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This movie, Time Bandits, that I used to watch when I was a kid...really scared the shit out of me. I was always terrified, but would watch it over and over...and I don't know why. WTF?? What's worse...I got the movie for my kids, and made them watch it. I can't tell if they, too, were frightened...but, I sure as hell didn't watch it with them.

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Why can't Phillipa, the British bitch on my GPS, just do her job? When I need her most...like to circumnavigate a traffic jam...she thinks I'm in some other part of the state.

And I'm all, "Phillipa, WTF? I need you right now!"

And she's all, "Enta Mota-way in threehundred feet..." in her hoity toity accent.

And I'm all, "Eff it, Phillipa, I don't need you!! I'll find my own way!!"

Then I turn her ass off!! Effing foreigners!!!

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Say, you lost a finger. Then, had one of your toes surgically transplanted onto your hand to replace it, because for argument's sake...let's say it was one of the better fingers...like the thumb, or the index finger...or, my personal fave, 'Tall Man.' Well, in order to get your new finger (that used to be a toe) to wiggle, would your brain have to send the "wiggle my toe" command...or the "wiggle my finger" command??

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I don't know why we bought a four bedroom house, with 2200 square feet...because all five of us are always within three feet of each other. For example, all 5 of us, plus the dog, on the 3 seater couch watching TV...all 5 of us in the 10 x 10 bathroom while I'm trying to evacuate my colon...four of us lurking over the shoulder of the one person who is on the computer, waiting for our turn...it's RIDICULOUS! We're like a family of goddamn rattlesnakes!!

The taste of victory...

I'm playing along with Six Word Saturday this week...

To my boy...

"May they all be this sweet!!"

A first...

Let me get one more mushy post out of my system.

This is the first and only picture I have of all four of my kids together....

When we knew Joey was gone, and we were waiting on the transplant team to arrive...a nurse got his handprints and footprints for me to keep.

The sweetest thing...

This is the sign posted on the outside
of The One Who Doesn't Say Much's bedroom door:



I hope it NEVER changes!!

Sarcasm...

...rhymes with orgasm...

AND ORGASMS ARE FUCKING AWESOME!!!
Aaaaaaaaand there's your orgasm post!! Cuz I hate to disappoint!!

Orgasm...

...rhymes with sarcasm, which happens to be my thing.

I knew that title would get your attention, ya sick bastards!!

Sarcasm pours from me. Really it does...all the time. I can't turn it off. It gets me into trouble every time I turn around. Especially with people who don't know me. To a stranger, my sarcasm is often translated into me just being a bitch...aaaaaaand sometimes that shoe fits, too.

I stick my foot in my mouth a lot...I do a ton of back-peddling in conversations...I have to explain myself so often. Mostly to people who don't know me. Believe it or not, there are a handful of people that have decided that they could put up with my mouth and call me their friend.

Yeeeeeeeeah, it's actually only one person and I married him so that he would be contractually bound to stick around...and reproduced with him so that he'd have to pay me lots of money if he ever decides tries to run!

Anywho...

There have been a lot of prayer requests going on in the blogosphere lately. Awful pictures of sick kids and dying babies and pleas from everyone and their dog to drop to your knees to pray. Well, we've already talked about that.

But, it's so hard for me to turn off the sarcasm. Like yesterday, I was chit-chatting with my friend, Bubbles, on the topic of prayer. And I said:

"No way, pray away, my friend...tell the big guy I said hello."

Now, I know people take their praying quite seriously...and that's awesome. The thing is, I wasn't mocking prayer...it's just this damned satirical part of my brain that just spits this shit out of my mouth or fingertips before I can even blink.

Another example...I was reading a blog today about an answered prayer. I wanted my bloggy friend to know that I read her post and was thinking about her, so I typed:

"Yay Jesus!"

I did stop myself on this one...I backspaced and ended up not commenting at all. Since I have posted about my personal beliefs, I thought this one might come across as nothing but smug. It was most def not intended that way.

I guess what I'm saying...is that with all these "Please pray for ________" buttons and posts, I'm at a loss as to how to comment. So, if you find a "Yay Jesus" on your comment page of a prayer request...I swear to Jahosephat that it was not meant to offend.

It's just my "I-get-stupidly-satirical-when-I-don't-know-what-else-to-say" way of saying "I'm thinking about you." Deal??

Sorry about "crying wolf" on the whole orgasm thing...we still cool?