The Christian Grey | 50 Shades Ecards are back… by popular demand. These are based on the article, What it Would REALLY be Like to be Married to Christian Grey, which takes a glimpse into what the Grey’s life might look like after years of marriage and children. But let’s face it, everything looks better in an ecard. So, here you go — Fifty Shades in the Future (insert wavy lines to imply future montage here)…
On Irony:
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On The Usual Toy Clutter: Continue reading
Before having children, I had no idea how much of a control freak I actually was. Yes, I always had the anxiety part, but even that grew 10 fold. My hubby and I lived in an apartment in NYC, where he was able to mask his inability to do simple household things like, change lightbulbs, hang pictures… use a screw driver. We had people to do that. Yes, the maintenance men were my BFFs — a small tip and they were caulking or hammering away.
Then we had kids and moved to the ‘burbs, where I realized that not only was my hubby not the type to do stuff around the house. I was not the type to delegate. My anxieties and need for perfection made his work seem incomprehensibly inferior. (The cause of many an argument)
So, Continue reading
A League Of My Own -A mom’s story of humiliation and triumph… on the little league field, duh. Nobody puts mommy in a corner! Moms are IN the Game, in every sense of the word!
Saturday was my son’s “Kids vs. Dads” Little League game. Yes, it was named that, maybe to imply that moms were not invited, maybe it was too much of a mouthful to say Kids vs. Parents. Maybe the sign makers couldn’t afford the extra letters, or worse, those 3 letters would take too much time and energy to paint. Damn those crampy handed, arthritic kids, they always recruit to make the signs. Though, I have a feeling it’s just one of those unwritten laws, “Moms are welcome to play, but we prefer you not, didn’t you not read that implication on our signage?” Continue reading
What, are familial relationships not about winning? I’m sorry, I’m an only child, I never had to compete for parental favoritism with siblings. And I must admit, my son’s essay puts him slightly ahead of his sister in the race for my love. I’m totally kidding. I love them both, but you can’t love them the same, can you?…As this is the end of the school year, all of my children’s work has slowly trickled into the house. You know, like the way Andy Dufrene releases the bits of wall in Shawshank? Tests, artwork, essays, scraps of scribble.
One of the prizes in the huge pile of things that will never make it to the circular file was a piece on who my son admires most. It started with this line, “I look up to my Dad and my Grandparents, but the person I admire most is my Mom.”
My first thought?
I won! Yep, you heard him. He admires you other people too (or maybe he just wrote that to be politically correct), but I’m in a class by myself. He said so… Continue reading
Well, any takers?
I so enjoyed Glamour’s article, 30 Things Every Woman Should Have and Should Know by the Time She’s 30. Shockingly, I could check many of those items off my to-do list. What’s more shocking is that I’m not 30 anymore, not even close.
A whole decade has passed. Where did it go? An amazing husband, multiple careers, a recession, two incredible children, and the blink of an eye later, I’m here, turning the corner on 40. There are many subtle yet life-changing differences a decade makes. (This may not be as sentimental as it’s predecessor, but hey, I’m a humor columnist):
By 40, you should have… READ ON, IT’S WORTH IT! Continue reading
This is for anyone who’s been somewhere alone and had to overcome fear of being too shy, too lame, or like my fear: turning into an awkward stand-up comic and ultimately offending people.
Yes, it’s true, like many of you, I have lot’s of virtual friends. Whether they’re old high school buddies that you communicate with mostly on FB or blog commenters, the entire twitter community, or exes you have kinky late night sexting with (I don’t judge), you’re aware that this tech bond exists.
I’ve been blogging for about 4 years, and over that time I’ve made many many many virtual friends. I don’t want to brag, but tons of people, who don’t know me, really like me.
Wait, I feel that came out wrong.
Anyhoo, I got to meet many of those people this weekend and I think some are still my friends. Though these meetings didn’t come without their share of fear and trepidation. Yes, I was in the 7th grade this weekend – a grade I categorically erased from my memory after I did a solo performance of Madonna’s “Get Into The Groove” at that year’s talent show, during which I fell to the floor and cried.
I attended my first real blog conference, MOM 2.0 Summit, which is the ultimate in upscale blog conferences, as I’m sure you already know, I mean, DUH? It was at the Ritz – obvi. The peeps were successful, the speakers were brilliant, and the liquor was filled with alcohol.
I spent the first hour walking back and forth from my room to the registration area, as I was scared to talk to anyone – and I had nothing else to do with myself. After the woman in the sign-up suite looked at me for the 5th time and said, “Um ma’am just give us 3 more minutes.” in a Why the f@ck do you keep lollygagging and peeking in? You clearly don’t belong here and simply want to steal a DOVE gift bag – well, I’ll throw off my bifocals and beat you down to the ground – BITCH. Kinda way. What? I can tell what people are truly thinking. It’s a gift.
Hour 2 and 3 – I spent at the pool – by myself. On a lounge chair – alone. Ordering and eating my lunch – solo. Staring at my phone and pretending I had a ton of work to do on my iPad, which was in fact, dead. Yes, I was somewhere between giggling and crying as I wrote pretend emails, in reply to pretend messages.
Continue reading
Many women’s magazines have a “Mom” version of a “How To Have Better Sex,” most of which make me feel like I should keep an extinguisher by the bed, along with a bucket of cold water to douse on myself and my partner when we begin to spontaneously combust from sheer passion. “How to Keep Your Love Life Hot, and Your Sex Life in Flames.” “10 Ways to Reignite Your Marriage.” “How To Turn Up the Heat In the Bedroom, Without Singeing the Sheets.” (Oh, I like that last one)
Seriously, I’d like to disband the sex myths propagated by magazines, and have a little straight talk here? Be warned though, the side effect of discussing such truths could be a shockingly unsatisfying revelation that your unsatisfying sex life is just that… unsatisfying.
Let me break it to you (in case you haven’t figured it out already), sex after kids is often not so hot, or often for that matter. That said, here’s what I think about the most common tips given to moms about sex.
1. Tip From a Writer Who Clearly Has No Children: Don’t forget to “Set the Mood,” you know, candles, aromatic massage oils, and sexy lingerie.
Brutal Honesty Response: Are we still taking time to set the mood? I mean, isn’t that what got us here in the first place?
Listen, if there’s no lingering gas odor in the room and you’re in an old t-shirt without any holes, I say you’re as sexy as you need to get.
Work your dimmer switch and voila… ambiance. Better yet, utilize the TV as a source of beautiful ambient light. If you can get the volume to an audible level, you can work in sex without giving up The Voice. It’s called multi-tasking, something we moms are all too familiar with.
As for a massage, I’m lucky if I don’t get one of my kids’ leftover Doritos corners embedded in my thigh. Wait, when I ask my husband to flick it out and slide the remaining crumbs off my tush like sand paper, does that count as a massage? Well, arguably, it’s more like an exfoliation, but it’s undeniably hot.
2. Tip From a Writer Whose Kids are Not Involved in 500 Activities: Continue reading
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Read on for more Fifty Shades ecards, a hilarious Fifty Shades parody, and a Fifty Shades piece about Cheating with Christian Gray
Last Saturday night, on our weekly date, my husband (who is not the man in the pic on your left) pulled into a parking spot and walked around to my side of the car, (as it was on the way to the restaurant). I sat in my seat, not budging. He looked at me through the window about a foot from the door and said, “Whatcha’ waiting for, c’mon let’s go.”
Of course, I was waiting for him to open said door, but he actually yelled through it – with exaggerated mime like hand motions instead. I pulled the handle and exited with a huff.
“Why can’t you be more like Christian Grey?” I said, in the same way my daughter says things like, “Why can’t you be more like Jessie’s mom? She keeps ice cream cones in her house,” or “Why can’t we live with Julia’s? Her family has stairs.”
Yep, after having failed the many Grey tests I’d administered the last couple weeks, much to my hubby’s chagrin, Continue reading
Social Media peeps, you sooo get this!
Susan at 8AM: You have to come see this. It’s horrifying. It’s like DuckRape.
Me: I just want to make sure we’re clear. You’re asking me to come to your house so that we can watch ducks have sex? Can we not afford good porn?
Susan: You make me sound so cheap.
Me: Well, you want me to drive over to your house to watch something so horrifying you’ve termed it rape?
Susan: Yeah.
Me: Okay.
What? You people think my days are so full of work that I don’t have time to watch ducks get laid?
Me: Half hour later, (when we were able to peel our eyes away) HOLY CRAP! Continue reading