In a shock to no one I’m ranting again. My Halloween candy stash has been forcibly removed from my home. At first I thought it would be a good idea. A Pre-Halloween cleanse, if you will. Like most of my ideas it sounded excellent in theory, but was a disaster played out in real-time. During a P.M.S. sugar craze I went for the bottle of children’s Gummy Bear vitamins. One word – yummy. Two words – over dose. I didn’t know until I shared my secret shame on Facebook that all the extra iron and vitamin A are not a good thing. Think death or at least a case of chronic constipation, Now I’m back on my cleanse with a fiber chaser. It’s made me very crabby and given me a level of gas that is so intense I fear leaving my home. I have no other recourse, but to vent. So, here goes.
Facebook I thought I had seen almost every instance of T.M.I. imaginable on Facebook from a pregnant women’s comment that her “cervix is mushy and dilated to a 6.” To a dude’s “tripod” Viagra story, but nothing tops this: (Please note what I’m about to reveal is a word for word status update.)
“This morning my beautiful 13-year-old daughter’s journey to become a woman has begun. She finally started her period! When I heard her call me into the bathroom I just knew it had happened”
Yes, a mother, who I know and until now didn’t think was insane, put that on FB. What kind of mom shares that kind of personal, private information with the general public? (I feel justified in using the term general public because the mother has almost 1,000 FB friends.) This question so haunted my every waking minute that I had to message her and ask, “Aren’t you afraid your daughter is going to kill you?” She replied, “I can’t imagine she would care. We’re going shopping after school to celebrate.” Really, shopping? Is it going to be a mad cap adventure at Target for maxi pads and panty liners? Maybe even worse than the mother’s over share were her “friends” responses. Her status update received 59 likes (Why would you “like” that? What’s to like? “Yeah, you get to enjoy PMS, cramps, and basically being on restroom alert 5 to 7 days out of every month. Yippee!”) and 24 comments These were my favorite. (Once again, word for word here)
“The Lord has smiled and another girl has flowered into a beautiful woman.”
Okay, that totally creeps me out. The whole God grinning, flowering woman thing sounds beyond disturbing.
“OMG Your daughter just got her period? My Ava started hers at 11.”
Read it and weep mothers are now competitive about when their girls start menstruating? It’s the Period Olympiad folks. What does that say about us as a society? I’ll give you a hint. It says we’re, most if not all, bat shit crazy.
Do not let her use Tampons for at least 6 months it will ruin her hymen.
WTH? How can a Tampon ruin your hymen and how does 6 months play into the ruination schedule? More importantly why should we be obsessed about hymens in general? Inquiring minds what to know. I felt compelled to comment on this comment and asked those 3 questions. I got this response. “The hymen is at its most sensitive the first 6 months of a girl’s period and you want to be sure not to break it.” I commented back, “You really need to read some basic biology books and not rely solely on your “Great Granny’s Guide to the Care and Upkeep of Your Virginal Plug.” Can you believe someone deleted my comment to her comment? Jerks.
The one thing I’m certain of is this T.M.I. Mom better watch her back. I don’t know how and I don’t know when, but I’m very, very sure her daughter will seek revenge and it will be painful. At least I’m hoping it will be painful and that her daughter will share all the gory details on Facebook. In gleeful anticipation I’ve already sent her a friend request.
Kid’s names I know it’s none of my business what anyone chooses to name their child. But for all you pregnant or soon to be pregnant woman out there let me offer this advice. When thinking of a perfect moniker for your someday baby ask yourself this question: Is there anyway it will make him or her a serial killer? Remember your kids grow up and if you give them a goofy name they’ll solicit some degree of payback.
I feel the need to offer this advice because today when I was at the park walking my dogs I stopped to talk to a mom and comment on her adorable son. She told me her son’s name is “Awesome.” I replied, “Of course he’s awesome.” She corrected me. “No, he’s not just awesome that’s his name.” I said, “Really his name is Awesome? Is that a family name?” (Yeah, I said something that stupid. I was flustered.) She politely said, “No, no one else in the family is an Awesome.” I asked her how they came up “such an original name.” She smiled and said, “When he was born my husband and I both looked at him and the first word that came out of your mouths was awesome.” “Oh what a great story,” I happily replied and bid my farewell. It took everything I had to not turn around and go back to the woman and talk some sense into her. I wanted to scream, “Awesome, you named your kid Awesome!” Doesn’t she know what’s she done. One of two things is going to happen here. The kid will either grow up to indeed be Awesome (doubtful) or he’ll become the nation’s worst serial killer. F.B.I. profilers will trace back his mental unhinging and proclaim that it all begin in elementary school when Awesome was teased for being not so awesome. I can see the news headlines “Awesome Serial Killer Claims Another Victim.” I’m seriously worried for this child.
Sometimes you just have to talk yourself (or family members) out of name. My dad (the accountant) wanted me to name my son Cash. I told my Dad that unless he wanted to pay me lots of cash for naming rights there was no way that was going to happen. I also have always loved the name Grace. But, me Klutzy Cankle Doofus couldn’t name my daughter that. What if she inherited my total lack of coordination? How grossly unfair to be named Grace when you have problems walking and talking on your cell phone. Never mind that it took me years to master climbing stairs in flip-flops. It was imperative that I select another name. The good news here is that my daughter turned out to be very graceful, but I’m certain that if I had tempted fate and named her Grace she’d be a mini-me still learning how to keep clogs on her feet. (It’s all in the toes.) Trust me no one wants that for any child.
Adult Halloween Costumes My number one Halloween rule is I will not wear any costume that requires Spanx or a bra that through an intricate system of ropes, pulleys and under-wire elevates my breast to the higher altitude of my clavicle. When did Halloween leave Scary Town and relocated to Slutburbs? Have you been to a Halloween costume store? They should rename them Skanks R Us. It’s all thigh high tights, garters, cleavage and stripper shoes. The worst is they’ve taken sweet, innocent children’s characters like Minnie Mouse and Alice in Wonderland and turned them into (non Magic Kingdom licensed, of course) hooker outfits. What happened did Minnie cheat on Mickey with Goofy? (Bad choice Minnie. I would have picked Scrooge McDuck over Goofy. Sure, Scrooge is old, but he’s loaded and I think he looks cute in his top hat.) Did Mickey throw her out of the House of Mouse? Did Minnie find herself short on cash? Was she forced to relocate to Tramp Toon Town and work the pole at Donald Duck’s Gentleman’s Club “A quack establishment featuring the no pants dance”? I’m pretty sure that’s what went down because Minnie’s outfit doesn’t say Disney it says Do Me.
While I’ve got your attention I’d like to add that few things are more pathetic than middle-aged women using Halloween as an opportunity to strut around in honeymoon lingerie masquerading as a costume. I went to a Halloween party last weekend and I hadn’t seen that many almost exposed boobs since I attended a La Leche League breast-feeding class 15 years ago. There was the sexy sailor, the foxy firefighter, the slutty Cinderella, the voluptuous vampire all way past their nublie years . I hope they all caught a horrible chest cold or at the very least extreme chapped nipples.
Nerd/Geek Days During the week before Halloween many schools have spirit days that consist of kids dressing up in a different outfits each day. For example, there’s a Western Day, Pajama Day etc. Some schools even have a Nerd and/or Geek days where kids come to school with goofy glasses with tape on them, too short pants pulled way past their belly button, pocket protectors – you get the picture. I’m a one woman wrecking ball when it comes to Nerd/Geek days sanctioned by schools, places that allegedly celebrate knowledge. Why don’t the schools just have a day that proclaims “We Hate Math and Science!” or “We Never Want to Find A Cure for Cancer!”
A Geek is many splendor thing and these kids need some love. They’ve been picked on post womb. As the proud mother of a super geek I was appalled several years ago when my son’s school had a Nerd/Geek day. I had him embrace his geek by dressing up for school in a coat and tie. I then took those fake $1,000 bills you can find at the Dollar Store and stuffed them in his suit coat pocket and put one of those “Hello My Name is” labels on him that read, “Hello, I’m your boss in 20 years.” Well, guess what happened next? I got a call from the principal expressing “concern” about my son’s costume. He felt it was “uppity.” I was up at that school faster than you can say, “Stanford Graduating Class of 2018.”I ever so politely pointed out to the principal that the Geek day was a form of bullying. (Yes, many years ago I learned any variation of the word bully is a parental trump card.) I then gently suggested that instead of mocking geeks the school embrace their thirst for educational enrichment or at the very least get the costume right. Goofy glasses and high water pants – please. I don’t think Steve Jobs, the Google Guys, or any Nobel prize-winning scientist I’ve ever seen looks (looked) like that, especially not the girl geeks. The principal attempted to blow me off, pat me on the head or whatever by saying, “You need to take off your mom hat. You’re over thinking this.” Oh my, that poor, poor man. I hope someday soon a Dr. Geek/Nerd will invent a 3 part robotic prosthesis for male genitalia because there’s an elementary school principal in Texas walking around without any of his manhood left. I ripped it right off, stomped on it and then tossed it the trash on my way out of his office. Screw “Don’t Mess With Texas” what you really need to do is “Don’t Mess With a Mom of a Super Geek.” We’re lethal and our kids know how to crash your computer system.
Lord, that felt good to rant. I’m not even craving high fructose corn syrup. Now, there’s a Halloween miracle for you. Well, off I go to venture forth and find something else to irritate me. I’m sure it won’t take long.
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Snarky in the Suburbs 