I’m Sure He Will Say It’s My Fault…I Taught Her Everything She Knows

I just watched my husband spend an entire hour Wii bowling so his daughter could have the sparkly ball.

On the surface you may think “So what?” But this man was just worked over by a five-year old with long eyelashes and an adoring smile.

They crack me up

*crying* Daddy, Jack has the blue sparkly ball and I really want the blue sparkly ball but I can’t get it *sobbing heaves*

It’s the perfect set up. I know it well. She tells him her sorrows. Her horrible, heart wrenching troubles.

*crying* Daddy the blue sparkly ball is so pretty *pauses to sob harder* and I really, really want it but I’ll never get it. Never *more crying*

Then, she moves in for the kill-

*crying* Daddy will you please play my guy so I can get the blue sparkly ball because I really, really, want it *covers faces and heaves for dramatic effect*

And not three minutes later, after a full three minutes of me telling her if she wanted to work hard for the blue sparkly ball I’m sure she could earn it, just like her brother did … her father waltzes into the room.

Baby girl do you want Daddy to get that blue sparkly ball for you?

Head. Desk.

Worst Mother Ever? Video Games, Blood, and My Kids

…and here’s the part where I get dead.

I’m cutting his head off!

Dad! Remember! We were going to get new weapons today!

Serious gamer

Somehow we went from benign, educational, age-appropriate games to Castle Crashers. And I’m not sure how and when we made this leap or how I let it slip by.

My husband thinks it’s no worse than watching Star Wars. So not really paying attention I defaulted to his logic and failed to really take a look at this new game the kids and their Dad were playing.

Then I hear:

I chopped my brother’s head off! And there is blood!

Mamma ain’t happy.

But I keep defaulting to Dad. I mean, I’m supposed to do that right?

He says cartoony blood is ok. It’s not real blood. Which I get, I do. But… I dunno. I just don’t know.

Should I put my foot down and ban this game? Should I trust their father… who I know wouldn’t let them do anything inappropriate.

Sigh. Confused. This is either my biggest parent fail yet or my Mother-anxiety kicking in. I can’t decide.

Hell Froze Over

I'm the most chill pup ever

Meet St. Nicholas Hoots Toots McGee Vest- aka “Nicky”

Dear Four-Year-Old Princess: Love Is So Complicated

crossposted at BlogHer.com

My four-year-old daughter is home from school today, so naturally she’s spending her afternoon twirling in front of me in princess dress after princess dress.

Mommy, don’t I look sooooo beautiful. I know a boy will marry me.

My heart sinks. My mind races. My eyes dart all over the living room, where she’s created Valentine’s decorations. A sea of red and pink hearts drown me as I try to come up with an age-appropriate way of explaining to her the reality of love, marriage, life.

Yes, Valentine’s Day has sent my daughter into love overdrive and in her adorable mind love = marriage to a handsome boy.

She’s clearly knee-deep in the princess syndrome, and I’ve done nothing to stop the madness. In fact, I think my behavior with her father and men in general has probably made it worse.

But how do you explain to a four-year old that the prince hardly EVER comes to save you (and you don’t need him to) and despite every message around her screaming otherwise, what she looks like INSIDE is what matters … not outside with her damn dress and primped hair?

How do you explain that a partnership based on love is very hard work? That sometimes it goes horribly wrong and that the prince is a monster or that potential suitor is really going to break her heart? How do you explain that sometimes it’s so wonderful and mesmerizing and lifts you off your feet until your heart thumps from your chest and you can barely breathe? How do you explain how lovers turn to friends and friends to lovers and they come and go and leave memories and wounds and sometimes very deep scars? How do you explain how a relationship changes and morphs over time and ebbs and flows?

She sees her father and me, and she sees nothing but love. I can’t blame her for thinking that’s all there is. Its all she is shown at home, on TV and anywhere. In her mind, it is the only way love exists.

How do I teach her just how complicated love really can be … and how painful? Do I? Of course I do. I’m just not sure how.

Maybe she’s smarter than I think, and she does see it. She sees the daily routine in this house where husband and wife sit in the same room and do their own things, barely talking. But she also sees the love pecks in the kitchen as we cook and the surprise butt-pinches as I bend over to grab something off the floor. Maybe just witnessing the roller coaster and mundane drudgery that IS the cycle of love is enough?

Or perhaps I’ve done her a complete disservice by not showing her it all. The tough. The boring. The very ugly. Because of that she moons over handsome boys and dons dress after dress talking about weddings and brides and her prince.

Maybe I haven’t shown her, because I haven’t figured it out myself. I have no idea how to explain the unexplainable. How I can be committed to her father yet flirt with other men? How I can be content in the routine yet throw a tantrum over it all in one day? How I can want more and love my life all in the same hour? How I can put on the adult version of the princess dress, that little black number, and paint my face and charm and smile and notice that indeed boys are soooo handsome? How I can come home to her father and cuddle on the couch while I remove my heels and then discuss bills? How I can remain happily married to my best friend sans dress and in sweats when it’s not all flowers and romance and horses and carriages and glass slippers?

How can I talk to her about love as the restless mother who can’t seem to get a handle on her own role in love well into a now almost 10-year marriage? Because in that little girl I see myself, wide-eyed and hopeful and willing to give away her heart with an intense passion that will sting, suffocate and be spectacular.

So many conflicting images and moments for her young, female mind to absorb. Resulting in twirling in front of me today, showing me how beautiful she looks.

I want my daughter to be strong, confident, and to not rely on a prince or even love this Valentine’s Day or the next 100 … but I’m afraid teaching her that lesson may be in watching her mother fail at it. Miserably. Happily. Having given myself to the princess syndrome long ago, unable to shake off it’s chains, and content with where, what and who it’s given me.

More Valentine’s Day thoughts:

Valentine’s Day For Feminists Lovers
For Those of Us in Long-Term Relationships, Valentine’s Is Really Happy-Sticking-It-Out Together Day
Half-assed Valentine’s Day
My heart says: “Flobbada-Flop”
Surviving Valentines Day

Politics & News Contributing Editor Erin Kotecki Vest

6-year old Gets Some. Mom Mortified. News at 11

My 6-year old got his first piece of ass today.

Jack's first Gar burger

Yes, my baby boy thought it was appropriate to swim underwater right on over to Megan and pinch her butt.

That’s right, an adult he’s never met. A guest in my home. And my son thinks its just fine to grab her ass.

I blame his father.

Alright not really, but I do blame the casual …ummm…atmosphere at our home. My son thought it was totally fine to pinch Megan’s ass because he’s pinched mine. And his Dad has pinched mine. And when we’re swimming in the pool they are the ‘sharks’ and they come get Mom. They get me by going underwater and pinching my butt. I squeal, they laugh…and life goes on.

Never in my wildest dreams did it occur to me my little guy would think this was fine to do this to other people.

Imagine, if you will, being a guest in my home and swimming in my pool. Suddenly, out of nowhere, you feel a pinch on your ass and turn to find a 1st grader underwater by your butt.

Of course I’d like to say, as the Mom, I handled the situation well. But as it turns out just moments before said pinching, I had been stung by a bee and was far from able to give the situation the attention it deserved.

Megan was a gracious guest and laughed it off…but what else could she do? My son had just got himself some and giggled  about it. What sort of hedonistic home had she brought herself and her children to?


Parenting fail.

But now he can say he’s grabbed Megan’s butt.

Going to the Chapel

I’m not going to lie.

My brain still fuzzy after the 4th’s fireworks and libations, I had to rub my eyes and go get my glasses upon reading this morning’s headlines.

Obama: Mental distress can’t justify late abortion

My heart sank.

Then I had to clear the cobwebs from my brain and process what was being said before I cried into my Women for Obama t-shirt.

Here is the short version, and what went on in my head as I read:

Senator Obama did an interview with some Christian magazine and said

Obama said prohibitions on late-term abortions must contain “a strict, well defined exception for the health of the mother.”

Obama then added: “Now, I don’t think that ‘mental distress’ qualifies as the health of the mother. I think it has to be a serious physical issue that arises in pregnancy, where there are real, significant problems to the mother carrying that child to term.”

In my head:

oh holy hell, is he pandering to the right with this crap? are you kidding me? why would he even talk about limits and and definitions when the women’s vote is being so heavily courted by Senator McCain…is he talking about limits on just late term or could this carry over into ‘mental distress’ in any termination of pregnancy and what exactly qualifies as ‘mental distress’ and who gets to decide and why is the government even INVOLVED in this and why on earth wold he say some like that to a Christian magazine and would he have said the same to planned parenthood and what in the hell is going on with my candidate because I realize this whole ‘move to the center’ thing is really just people educating themselves on where he has ALWAYS stood but has he always stood against mental distress/late term abortion stuff….crap I need coffee.

I then hinted to fellow Huffington Post contributor Lee Stranahan that he was welcome to drive the extra 20 minutes to deliver me a latte, since he was already out getting one for his wife. Lee politely mentioned something about gas prices and I begrudgingly made myself a pot.

I’m now two cups in and ready to break this down a bit so no one gets hysterical and suffers the same caffeine-free heart failure I did a few hours ago.

NARAL endorsed Obama. They believe “A health exception must also account for the mental health problems that may occur in pregnancy. Severe fetal anomalies, for example, can exact a tremendous emotional toll on a pregnant woman and her family.”

If Obama acts on his position, he’d be going against NARAL and other pro-choice entities.

However, Obama spokespeople stress “Obviously, as he stated in the interview, he has consistently believed those exceptions should be clear and limited enough to ensure that they don’t undermine the prohibition on late-term abortions.”

Which I HOPE means he’s not going to push that provision because it would undermine.

We will need clarification on that before we all go crazy here.

I’ll be the first to admit late-term abortion is where my very staunch support of all reproductive rights gets clouded. It’s uncomfortable to think about, to grapple with, to imagine. However I always default to the position of NOT knowing every woman’s situation.

We also know our right to control our own reproduction is constantly under attack. The anti-choice movement takes every inch they can get on any issue on the table to tries and ‘undermine’ current laws and legislation.

The issues are varied and the debate is large and overwhelming.

Even in my own family, the discussion and debate causes problems. My husband and I disagree over parental consent and continue to go around-and-around on the topic.

I respect my husband’s opinion, but I think he’s wrong.

I respect Senator Obama’s opinion, but I think he’s wrong.

I still married my husband, and we continue to debate the issue.

I’m still voting for Obama, and expect we will continue to debate the issue.

Maybe voting is a bit like marriage.

My husband has core values that I agree with and we compromise and fight and respect each other on some of the details.

Senator Obama has a core values that I agree with…I’m guessing between FISA and this, the compromise and fight and respect on those details will also emerge.

So long as those core values remain, I’m guessing we can stay out of divorce proceedings.

So long as those core values remain, I’m guessing we can stay out of third-party candidate, write-in vote proceedings.

The Senator, like my husband, remains the best person for the job.

Although I wish they were both a bit more like Mrs. Stranahan’s husband and would bring me some coffee.

Erin Kotecki Vest is Political Director at BlogHer.com and thinks she’s Queen of the World on her own blog Queen of Spain blog. She also contributes over at MOMocrats where even her non-coffee bringing husband has guest posted so the entire family can Rage Against the McCain.

Happy Father’s Day

I have a wonderful father. I know many wonderful fathers.

Happy Father’s Day to all the Dads.

…and some pics for you…

He is my baby daddy, after all. 😉


Daddy and kiddos

Can't say we're ever at a loss for entertainment around here

John McCain Inspired My Husband to Blog

*crossposted at MOMocrats.com

How did he do it? By allegedly calling his wife a cunt.

Please don’t be surprised that an ex-POW would be ‘mean’ to a woman or have some temper issues.

As for Cindy McCain…other than looking like the perfect Stepford wife while standing next to him on stage, I don’t know much about her. Maybe she likes being called a cunt? Maybe under all that hairspray and makeup she’s some sex freak who gets off on being berated in public? Maybe she’s secretly plotting to publicly call her husband an asshole during his next big speech? Either way, I’m going to guess husband and wife name-calling occurs on SOME level in the McCain household. Maybe it doesn’t. All I know is the whole story had my husband writing.

MOMocrats, meet DADocrat Aaron Vest:

There’s a new dust up on the campaign trail for the McCain camp. You’ve probably already heard about the new book by Cliff Schecter, “The Real McCain”. In the book Schecter writes:

“Three reporters from Arizona, on the condition of anonymity, also let me in on another incident involving McCain’s intemperateness. In his 1992 Senate bid, McCain was joined on the campaign trail by his wife, Cindy, as well as campaign aide Doug Cole and consultant Wes Gullett. At one point, Cindy playfully twirled McCain’s hair and said, “You’re getting a little thin up there.” McCain’s face reddened, and he responded, “At least I don’t plaster on the makeup like a trollop, you cunt.” McCain’s excuse was that it had been a long day. If elected president of the United States, McCain would have many long days.”

And the outrage ensues.

Feminists are outraged by the use of the word cunt. The Morally Correct simply don’t like curse words at all, especially words like cunt. And many other people are just scared that McCain could take his notorious temper into White House and start hammering away at the button with his fist, red faced jowels flapping around wildly in the wind, while screaming “Ahmadinejad is a cunt!” People believe this could happen. They do. They really really do. And they are outraged. As a side note, I think it’s rather ironic that people would be “outraged” by his temper. But anyway…

I, for one, think that we should take a step back and give McCain the benefit of the doubt on this one. We may know about his voting record. We may know about his policies. We do know all about his heroics as POW. But what we don’t know very much about is Cindy McCain. It’s quite possible that she really is a cunt. And a big one at that. Have you ever spent a really long hard day with a really big cunt? It’d piss you off too. Especially if the cunt started making fun of your male pattern baldness.

This raises a serious question, how could he have not known she was a cunt before committing to her? Did he just assume that heck, he can just easily make her stop being a cunt just because he married her? Was his best man telling him he’d be able to do it in less than a year at almost no cost? Did McCain know the history of her family? I bet he’d feel pretty silly to find out now that there is a long history of being a cunt in her family. After he discovered he couldn’t get her to stop being a cunt he probably wished he had an exit strategy for the marriage. Or at least a pre-nup. Maybe he just planned on being married to her for 100 more years, or however long it took. Who knows really?

So while I’m perfectly willing to accept John McCain’s assessment that he married a cunt, I think that says more about his judgment than anything else. Honestly, I think the last thing we need right now is another cunt in the White House.

…Oh stop it Hillary supporters, I wasn’t talking to you.

Erin Kotecki Vest writes at Queenofspainblog.com her husband usually doesn’t write anywhere