Newsflash

This Site Is For You IF...

You have ever wondered why other

mothers have it all together.

And you can't find a clean pair of

underwear.

 

 
This Site Is For You IF...

Your first child listened to classical music

You read to them for hours

You kept them sugar and chemical free

And you can't remember why.

 
This Site Is For You IF...

You have read the book! Twice!

And your child STILL doesn't do it.

 
Show us a lil love...it's been a long day!
 
 
A Public Service by Dentist Advisor



The News
Hold Me PDF Print E-mail
Written by CC   
Tuesday, 20 August 2013 11:50

I dropped my son off at school this morning, the son that always runs off effortlessly to take on the next challenge life throws at him.  I always think of him, not as invincible, but as something very close to that.  He seems to be able to handle anything.  And he finds the strength to handle anything he can’t.  Let me go back.   A couple days ago I walked him up to school, and he ran off, so I quietly walked away.  I thought he must not need me there.  That night he scolded me, “Mom, you left this morning without saying good-bye!”  I couldn’t believe he had noticed.  He didn’t appear to look at all.  I mean, I know he loves me.  But sometimes you just figure when they walk off, they are fine.  He has this fabulous strut at times, like he is so sure of himself, so ready, so fine. 

 

But the next day, I saw him check me 40 times before he went in to see if I was there, even though he wouldn’t play near me.  I waved my hand like a beauty pageant contestant until he went inside.  He looked one last time before he disappeared through the door.  I felt happy I had noticed and been able to do something so simple and ridiculous-looking, to lend a little confidence to his day.  Mom cares.  She listened. 

 
Wildlife Wonders PDF Print E-mail
Written by CC   
Wednesday, 10 July 2013 12:01

My 9 year old, Mack, called me this morning.  He called me from the neighbor’s house.  I feel like that needs more explaining, so I’m trying to drag it out now.  He called me from the neighbor’s house because he was feeding their dog.  He’s a little bit of a famous pet sitter on our block.  Hey, ya got to start somewhere.  But I don’t want to miss the story here. 

He called me and said, “Mom, there’s a coyote in front of our house.  Would you check and see if it’s there before I come home?”

Well, sure, son, I said to myself.  But why the hell are you calling me now?  He’d been gone like 20 minutes?  So he had calmly seen a coyote and gone to do his pet sitting and then called me on the way out? 

Uh, kinda awesome.  I couldn’t help but grin with pride, while my mommy tummy clenched simultaneously.  You sometimes think your kids are awesome, but you wish if they were going to be so brave, maybe they could be someone else’s kids.

 
Dear Abercrombie & Fitch-Oh yah, my letter too. PDF Print E-mail
Written by CC   
Wednesday, 15 May 2013 09:31

Just because everyone feels they need to respond.  I have decided I will too.  Only no one will give a shit.  Still, it’s written.

 

Dear Abercrombie & Fitch guy (Mark Jeffries) and all his haters,

 

I couldn’t give a rat’s ass who you market to.  I really don’t even understand why other people give a rat’s ass either.  Truly, I do think you’re a freaking genius.  All you have to do in America is call someone fat or uncool or unattractive and the whole country comes unglued.  First of all, I am too old and uncool and less than model-esque to care whether some teenage rock star clothing shop markets to me.  I am almost 40 years old.  I haven’t been in A&F for like…  years.  That’s because it was too loud for a morning shopping spree.

 
Give It a Rest Already! PDF Print E-mail
Written by CC   
Friday, 19 April 2013 08:07

It’s not that I don’t like writing anymore, because I do.  It’s not that I gave my kids away---yet.  It’s not that I can’t take the pressure anymore…   Please…  I’ve got nothing but free time.  And it’s not that summer is on the way…  even though that’s definitely part of it. 

And it’s definitely not because I am passed out under the kitchen table, mid-martini sip.  That would just be tacky…  So please don’t peek in my windows.  Things are totally under control.

But it is because I need a freaking break!  I know, how difficult can it be to write a stupid story about your life?  Well, it’s not.  But I still have drinks to concoct, children to beat, friends to make fun of and interests to find.  Cause really, what’s necessary outside of Netflix and locking the kids out of the house to make interests fall by the wayside?  But I really can’t say that on the internet. 

Oh wait, you can say whatever the hell you want on the internet.  Gotta love free speech, for the most part, until someone says something stupid.  Good thing I’ve never done that.  So it’s good time to take a break before I say something, more stupider. 

I will miss you all, and here’s hoping you miss me in 2 and a half seconds, cause that’s how quickly your next twitter and facebook roll will move the fuck on to something else!  But cheers to you and yours, while I take a break with meeees and mine.  Yes, that’s a word! 

(In case my cryptic magic of writing eludes you, I’m taking a break from writing and blogging for awhile, so I can drink more and tell people how much time I’m spending with my family.  Hope you find time to do the same thing for yourself.  See you soon.)

Much love,

C freaking C

 
On Gossamer Wings PDF Print E-mail
Written by CC   
Tuesday, 09 April 2013 16:42

I like titles that may or may not have anything to do with the story.  I feel like it helps us relate better to life.  Motherhood may or may not relate to happiness and fulfillment.  Although to be fair, sometimes at the spa when reflecting on motherhood one can feel happiness and fulfillment, I am fairly certain.  And just like this little story, the motherhood part of it didn’t really make me feel happy and fulfilled, you know, at all.  And I don’t know what feeling I did feel.  But you’ll see in a moment.   Perhaps you can help me with the emotion I am unable to pin down.

 

 
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