Happy Mother's Day or Suck It Time Magazine

So it's happened again.  Something has caused me to stop writing fluff about fluffy stuff that doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things.  But every now and then something ruffles my Mom feathers, causing an emotional response (I hate that) and I have to open my big, fat, nationality unknown (I posted about that a long time ago) mouth and type about it on my little read blog.

You know what's coming next don't you...

This cover pisses me off.  It is meant to be titillating (pun intended) but not very meaningful...not something I would expect from Time magazine...The National Inquirer, yes...Us magazine, yes...not Time.  It also ticks me off that I had to put down my People magazine in order to download this issue of Time to my Kindle.  There had to be something in the article to justify this sort of sensationalism, right?  Wrong.  I found the article to be interesting...I learned a lot about the background of Dr. Sears and his wife.  I learned about attachment parenting and about the other camp (like Ferber) who support an entirely different style of parenting.  And you know what?  I don't care what you do with your boobs...who you feed (or not), for how long (or little) and why you think your way is the best way.  I really don't.  I am also not interested in seeing you breast feed your kid in church whether he is 2 months old, 2 years old or 12 years old...but that is my own personal issue and not a statement on breastfeeding.  I would also be quite uncomfortable on a nude beach even though it would be completely natural for people to be showing their bits and pieces. 

The thing is, parenting is hard...so freakin' hard some days that you may or may not have contemplated selling your kids to the circus or getting on the next plane to wherever.  We ALL know this even if you are afraid to say it out loud!  No offense to you Dad's out there but since you can't breast feed (lucky bastards) Imma gonna leave you out of this one.  Mom's...we make what seems like millions of decisions from the time we grow people in our belly (or not, there are many ways to make babies) in order to make sure (fingers crossed) that we send kind, generous of heart people out into the world with a good sense of self and solid foundation to turn to when they face challenges.  You would think that taking on such an enormous responsibility would make us turn to each other for support and camaraderie.  That we would find comfort hearing "I know exactly how you feel" from other Mom's.  Instead we like to beat the snot out of each other.  Rather than compassion for one another we judge each other...what's up with that?  Like you don't question what you're doing enough that you need to question what another Mom is doing too?  Shame on me (I don't live in a glass house) and shame on you.  And shame on Time magazine for throwing gasoline on the Mommy Wars that already piss all over Motherhood. 

"I'd like to be the ideal mother, but I'm too busy raising my kids." - Unknown

Happy Mother's Day!

IMHO or Andy Cohen Made Me Do It!

I do not typically talk about politics and religion but my favorite gay Andy Cohen (holla!) made me do it.  I DO typically talk about pop culture...specifically reality TV...hello Housewives!  Bravo is an addiction of mine, just about every fantastic show and Andy Cohen following them all up on "Watch What Happens Live!" five nights a week makes me just plain happy.  If you are an Andy fan, you know (and love) his Mazel and Jack hole of the day. 

 Today, Imma have to give Obama the Mazel for this statement, "...I’ve just concluded that for me personally it is important for me to go ahead and affirm that I think same sex couples should be able to get married.".

But I'm gonna have to agree with Andy on last nights Jack hole...the state of North Carolina passing Amendment One...which formally defines marriage as being between and man and a woman.  It doesn't surprise me at all but some of what people had to say about it I find reprehensible so I'm gonna throw my hat into the discussion. 

Here's what someone really bigot-y had to say about it:

Tony Perkins, President of the Family Research Council- a conservative Christian organization- released a statement applauding the vote.

“We applaud North Carolina voters for joining voters in 31 other states upholding the historic and natural definition of marriage as the union of one man and one woman” the statement said. “At every opportunity, the American people have demonstrated a deep appreciation for the unique benefits that marriage between a man and a woman brings to families and society. They recognize that marriage is the only kind of union that results in natural procreation and keeps a mother and father together to raise the children produced by their union.”

AND he's Christian (wha?!?)...claims to be Christian AND bigot-y...shocker!!!  Just because Jesus made you (stupid) and you can open your pie hole and spew intolerance doesn't a Christian make.  I prefer the chapter in Jesus' teachings where we all love one another as He loves us...but I'm that kind of Christian.

Let's take a look at a few examples of the union of man and woman that resulted in natural procreation and subsequent (debatable) raising of the children, shall we?

This one may get me into trouble with some but...

And on the flip side...

Sendak was gay and he lived with his partner, Eugene Glynn for over 50 years.

 

14 years together...they even managed to be pregnant at the same time.

And just because I can and I j'adore them so so much (yes, I know it's make believe)...

I think the person who summed things up brilliantly was Andy Cohen's Mom...Evelyn, age...maybe 80...when asked her opinion on the results of the vote.  "Did you know that you can marry your cousin in North Carolina?  I can't even speak about it."

It's true...your first cousin but not your double cousin (look it up...I had to) because THAT would be wrong.

Beating a Dead (Stick) Horse...and Porn

Because I love to beat a dead (stick) horse...today on the way to preschool...

I'm not exactly sure what this says about your family but I'm pretty sure we would have very little to talk about at a backyard BBQ.  Just for fun I would probably say, "Didn't you just LOVE Jar Jar Binks?".  Then we would probably have to get out our light sabers and be all "Oh no you di-nt!". 

And in other topical news (and by that I mean it's trending on Yahoo or I read it in People Magazine)...

 Have you jumped on the Mommy porn bandwagon yet?  If so, you are not alone.  There are even plenty of Dudes reading to see what all the hype is about.  Imma gonna give you my fifty cents on Fifty Shades.  B.O.R.I.N.G.  I know, I know, there's lots of hands fisting in hair, plenty of daily sex (now I see why the men folks are interested)...some of it quite kinky.  Spoiler Alert:  The virginal coed falls IN LOVE with the dirty, f'ed up hotty and they live happily ever after with many misadventures thrown in to make it more a novel and less a Penthouse Letter.  Is this really what any of us want in a book that's all S&M -y???  I think not.  But if you still have your heart set on seeing what all the sexy fuss is about, have at it.  I read the whole series...every tawdry bit of it.  I'm pretty sure I am not alone when I say that my Mommy Porn would be more along the lines of a two night stay at the Holiday Inn Express down the street where the room is cleaned for me, my meals are delivered to my door (I suppose this is where the man fits into the fantasy but I'm not picky, just hungry), I get the remote and it's very very quiet, I am alone in bed (rather than the usual 2+) and I get to sleep in.  Oh my...

Keep Calm and Carry a Big Stick (Family)

Martini Mom really should have done her homework.  Thank you to my fantastic sister-in-law for showing me the anti-sticker family sticker that lead me to these AWESOME options.

I knew there was quite a selection of families to choose from but this one even surprised me.  And by that mean I thought it was freakin' hillarious.  Farm Family edition...love the pig and the pitch fork kid.

This one took TMI to a new level...angels?  Seems a little sad to post on the mini, no?  If you have the one in a wheelchair do you get to park up front??  SO many options!

And by The Ass Family I mean the Martini Family.

Who hasn't gotten on the zombie band wagon...right???

Because even Mommy needs a hobby.

Finch's car...parked in front of Stifler's house.  I think this one is my favorite.

Just for fun.  Wouldn't this be fun???

The bottom line.

Thanks for entertaining and encouraging (it doesn't take much) the rants of a middle-aged, martini lovin' mother of three!!!



I Do Not Heart Stickers on Cars or Say it Don't Display it

Let me start out by stating the obvious...I'm not a fan of stickers on your car.  I'm not judging (well maybe just a little)...you do whatever you want with your own mini.  Our families all have hobbies and interests...I am just not sure why they need to be conveyed to every stranger we pass on the road.
 
For example, today, I passed a car with a sticker in her back window...a stick person dressed as a chef and 4 little stick dogs...with bows on their little stick dog heads.  There are many options available to dress up the family SUV.  Stick people, stick people dressed with hobby accessories, stick pets, stick DISNEY people (I think we already know that EVERY kid in EVERY family likes Disney and I believe 97.8% of parents would rather get a hockey puck in the eye [see how I let you in on MY family hobbies right there...no sticker needed] than go to Disney).  You can let us know about your super smart honor student, your crappy kid who will beat up said honor student or your visit to Wall Drugs.  My personal favorite (and by that I mean I wanted to key your car) was found by Thing 1 on a Wrangler in the Red Robin parking lot in Wisconsin Dells...stick figure taking another stick figure face down over the hood of a Jeep saying "Only on a Jeep"...LOVED explaining that over our onion ring tower.  Dude, you should NOT be proud of that sticker AND you should be even less proud of your tiny stick wiener.  Tonight, it was unsettling to see "My soldier fights for freedom for your honor student"...I know there has always been a battle between smarty mcfarty kids and stupid bully kids but I'm not sure where the rift between a soldier and an honor student comes from.

So I wonder...why do people who are driving past you have to know these things about you???  And when your sticker choice involves Calvin or Hobbes peeing on a truck (ala Ford v. Chevy) all I can ask is, for the love of God, why???  I get it a little...I too am in a battle between my head and my heart and an Ice Dogs Hockey sticker.  EVERY car in the lot has one and I know it's just a matter of time...and I think it makes me less of a hockey Mom.  I mean I drive them all over, spend every moment in a cold arena and take out a second mortgage on the house every time fees are due or someone needs new pads and skates...but unless I proclaim my affiliation to the Dogs with a sticker on my Caravan so that strangers can see it when I drive down I-90 I will feel an empty hole in MY SOUL.  Or not.

If I HAD to put stickers on my mini they would likely be something along these lines...

My Book Club can totally drink your Book Club under the table...wait...there was a book???
 or
Our Family in Stick People

                   Mom with martini(s)
                   Dad with tv remote
                   Thing 1 with word bubble (for uncomfortable conversations we are inevitably starting to have as he gets older...Viagra you say???)
                   Thing 2 with Pikachu or Sharzu (what the flognot is a Sharzu!)or whatever character he is obsessed with that day    
                   The Princess dressed as a princess (which kind of looks like a homeless person wearing all their clothes at once)
                   The two pugs (no bows, I'm not allowed to dress them...peeing on someone's shoes, of course)
                   and I wouldn't waste my money on the fish stickers, they generally don't last too long at our house and my daughter likes to annouce at Sunday School that Mom killed the goldfish.

If you know where I can get either of these stickers, let me know...until then, I will keep my opinions(who am I kidding, like that's ever going to happen) and my personal information to myself.

Back to School or How Martini Mom got her Groove Back (in the driveway and not in a pervie sort of way...sorry Martini Dad)

Today the school bus showed up at 8:11am at the bottom of the Martini Family's driveway.   After schlepping 2 tired, whiny, chronically late (that may have had something to do with me) Martini Kids ALLLLLLLL the way up the street (uphill both ways in the snow) for the last two years I can only say thank you Baby Jesus and the bus transportation gods.   Once said bus pulled away but probably not far enough that I didn't embarrass Martini Kids 1 & 2, I did the Martini Mom Happy Dance all the way up the drive and into the house.   Martini Mom got her groove back...go MM, go MM, go-go-go MM!

I love all the Martini Kids but I want them out of my house...for several hours each day...so that someone else can share in the joy of motherhood and I can pee without someone asking for something before I can unzip and put the seat down (insert cursing here).

I know, I know...many Mom's dread the end of summer and all the glorious family fun ending and (dare I say it) cry...a lot...when their precious children climb aboard the bus every August. I.am.not.that.Mom.   I also think 1/2 of you are just pinching yourselves really hard somewhere really sensitive because if you don't cry you are THAT Mom.   The one dancing in the driveway...I can own it.

So however you choose to commemorate the kids heading back to fill their beautiful brains with knowledge...crying in your Cheerios or getting jiggy in the driveway...you really should do something to celebrate you...the amazing Mom (and Dad, but you know it's mostly us...wink) who kept them alive (and they LOVE to try and kill each other daily...even the precious ones) and somewhat entertained for another summer.   Hopefully the kids super smart (WAY smarter than this Martini Mom) teachers were able to recharge and enjoy their time away from the classroom so they can put up with all the shenanigans that will surely be headed their way.  And by shenanigans I mean my kids.

Now I don't mean to be greedy, but tonight I may say a prayer tonight to Baby Jesus and the transportation gods that they may change the bus stop DROP off to the Scoreboard...a fine establishment a few blocks from the Martini abode where there is vodka a plenty and I can avoid the dreaded question of "what's for dinner?" and wish it would just freakin' make itself...but I digress.

Cheers to school!!!

My "Whole" Story or Why I Won't Ever be on Oprah

Hold on to your cocktails my dear 6 readers…Martini Mom is going to stray from the usual banter and self deprecating humor in favor of something a bit more serious. Rest assured, this will not happen often and I will resume blogging about nonsense in no time.


This week Oprah (whom I heart dearly) introduced us to her newly found half sister. They share a Mother who gave Patricia (the new sister) up for adoption in the 60’s when Oprah was 9. Now that Patricia's found her family, she says she feels connected, a sense of wholeness. Where am I going with this? I have seen many shows about families reunited after adoption and hear adoptees talk about needing to find what they have been missing and while this does create a much more sensational TV show there is always another side to everything.

I am adopted. It is not a secret; I cannot remember a moment of my life when I did not know this. When I was 4 days old I was adopted by my Mom and Dad and became a part of my family, complete with two older brothers (whom I heart dearly; way more than Oprah even). I have never felt abandoned or rejected and have only gratitude for the person who gave birth to me and had enough love for me to recognize that I would have many opportunities and blessings in my life, without her. I admire her fortitude to carry through on her decision knowing that she had other options. I did not think much of her sacrifice until the day I gave birth to my first child and realized that while she surely doubted her ability to care for me, she should never doubt her own strength because her decision required more than I could ever imagine.

I have never felt compelled to find the woman who gave birth to me, or see if there are any half siblings walking the same earth as me. I do not consider her my Mother; my Mom has been with me every day, good and bad for the last 39 years. Like every adoptee, my birth certificate has my Mom and Dad on it. I was adopted in the 70’s and like most adoptions during that time, it was a closed adoption. My parents purposely went through the process learning as little about who I came from because they didn’t see the need to know those details and I think given the situation that was a wise choice. People were not always tactful, asking my beautiful fair skinned, blond Mom how she got such a dark baby. I found people just as rude when I toted my own fair skinned, blond, biologically born daughter around; and so it came full circle.

I do not know my nationality. I am Middle European and who the heck knows what that is? This has never bothered me, although the elementary teacher who didn’t believe me when I was asked to do a report on my nationality certainly got an earful from my Mom. As an adult, someone once told me that I would never amount to anything because I didn’t know where I come from. But I do know where I come from. When I was adopted, I was adopted into a family, with roots and all and they became mine. It makes no difference to me if you want to think I am Italian, Greek or Middle Eastern. Sure, maybe I am.

As I get older and face the toll aging has on my health, I am reminded that I am a genetic crap shoot with no medical history. I am not overly concerned but I am diligent. Now that I have my own children this matters to me a bit more but not enough to sour me. When I was pregnant, I joked with my husband that who knows what we’ll get. And sure enough, my blond haired blue eyed beautiful daughter was a bit of a surprise, in such a very good way! I have never looked like anyone in my family and admittedly hollered “I’m not supposed to!” at many who commented on how I didn’t look anything like my older brothers. When I had children of my own, wouldn’t you know, all three look just like their Daddy and the dark little girl I envisioned while she grew in my belly turned out just the opposite of the picture in my mind. God has a way of giving us a good laugh when we think we know his plans. So I am super blessed and still one of a kind.

I have always felt wanted, chosen and deeply loved. My whole life I have felt special because I was adopted. Being adopted is not something that is on the forefront of my mind and I often forget and say things like “when you had me” or “I get that from you” to my parents. Although I have been known to point out to my Mom that unlike my brothers, I never put her through labor…and then she reminds me that I made up for that during my teen years. And then I think how comments like that sound just like any other family, which is exactly what we are and why I have been fortunate to feel connected and “whole” my entire life.