Soapbox Dirty: April 2009 Archives

April 2009 Archives

Parents Are People

By Mad Mom on April 22, 2009 3:43 PM | 1 Comment | No TrackBacks

Why Hello There:
Some mornings, you open up the paper and read something that makes you laugh your ass off, even if it's considered in poor taste.
Have I got a humdinger for you!
Mad Mom of the Week
You know the classic threat, "If you don't quit fighting/whining/crying/bugging my ass RIGHT NOW I'm going to pull over and leave you on the side of the road?" According to the New York Daily News, this mom totally lost her shit and DID IT!
"The fedup Scarsdale mom - a partner at white-shoe firm Kaye Scholer - soon relented and let her 12-year-old daughter back in when she caught up with the family car.
The younger daughter wandered around the corner to Mamaroneck Ave., where a good Samaritan spotted her in tears about 7:30 p.m., bought her ice cream and then approached a cop in a patrol car."
And the cops arrested her ass! She was charged with a misdemeanor!
Poor thing just screwed herself royally. Like these kids won't threaten to report her to the cops every time she refuses to ante up for True Religion jeans or Jonas Brothers tickets. By losing it with her kids just this one time, she's lost hand FOR LIFE.
What's best is this woman is a LAWYER. She pays for those jeans by keeping a cool head while negotiating corporate mergers with assholes the size of your face. Note how the grating screech of two relentless, bickering 'tweens sprung from your loins can throw years of consummate professionalism down the fucking drain in mere moments.
After giggling for about a full minute, my amusement turned to pity. Then I started laughing again.
The Klumbot Strikes Again
So, I'm at the Seal show at Radio City last Thursday with my pal Susan, and Seal announces from the stage that his wifey-poo Heidi Klum is once again knocked up with his super sperm.
I don't think I've met one parent who doesn't regard this twosome with awe. First of all, they seem geniunely besotted with each other - he opened his sappiest number, "Kiss From A Rose" by announcing his kids and Heidi were there, and upon realizing the kids were asleep, saying, "Aw, the kids fell asleep. Guess it's just you and me, babe." I threw up a little in my mouth. And it wasn't because of the $15 glass of ripple they served in a commemorative plastic cup with a glowing blue swizzle stick.
Then I smiled. I've got no hate on 'em. So what if they're loaded? So what they have her mother's help at all times? So what if she drops post-natal pounds like Courtney Cox dropped the Arquette?
They seem like they are for reals. But it begs the question: Would they be AS lovey-dovey if they were scrambling for cents like we mere mortals are in this economy? And minding those three kiddies with no help whatsoever? Would you dedicate songs to each other or spit nails over how long you get to spend in the bathroom with the door closed?
Could you survive without the Cabo manse, Heidi and Seal? Hmmmm?
Have You Gotten A Load of This Stupidity? Check Out The SnotSucker!
Those crazy Swedes.
Think Ola Baby has these bad boys in stock?
I don't know about you, but I find sucking my kid's snot out through a tube quite appetizing!
This product supposedly keeps germs at bay with an antibacterial filter, so you don't actually taste the snot.
Do they also include a vial of tequila to help you overlook the immediate proximity of your darling baby's phlegm to your lips?
What up?

And finally....I bring you a blast from the past...
Parents Are People, Y'all!

Love how during the last note, Marlo Thomas is gazing up at Harry Belafonte like she can't wait to toss off her headphones and grab a stronghold of some of that.

That's it for now, kids! 'Til next time!

The Mad Mom

Continue reading Parents Are People.

No Mercy

By Mad Mom on April 7, 2009 5:53 PM | 6 Comments | No TrackBacks

Hello My Lovelies,

Oprah recently ran a "real truth about motherhood" episode, basically to pump up the network's latest baby, In The Motherhood. I have to say, most of these chicks are a bunch of whiny pussies: "I don't like early mornings," "I bathe my kids in the jacuzzi," "I cried all the way to the dealership when I bought a minivan." Shut the fuck up.

No one said that parenting is a fucking cakewalk. Yeah, it's tough. Yeah, it can suck as it can be glorious. We all feel better after a healthy bitch session with other mothers, but what does it solve? What are you going to do about it?

Take your life back. Trade childcare with a friend. Cash in your favors. Go out with your friends and leave your sitter or child-rearing partner with a beer and the remote. Drink heavily. Smoke something. Take a class. Do something you enjoy. Anything. Just do something for yourself. And shut the fuck up.

Speaking of shut the fuck up...my day went a little something like this...

Fried from five endless days sequestered at home with my two little tyrants, I gave into my primal need to make the noise stop. And told my kid, on no uncertain terms, to shut up.

Now when I was growing up, this phrase was bandied around my household with liberal gusto, as often as perfunctory phrases like, "It's time for dinner," or, "Don't be late for school." My mom did the dirty work, my dad worked, and the air was thick with derision and contempt. Berating one another was as natural as taking a piss. You gave as good as you got until you got the hell out.

I swore on a stack of Creem magazines that I'd never replicate this negativity when I had kids. Pfft. That was until today. I suffered a wicked migraine and my poor sort-of-sick five year old was trapped at home for three straight days with me and his little sister. Off-the-walls doesn't even begin to describe it. The kid ricocheted.

This meant no work for mommy. No gym for mommy. No time to shit-with-the-door-closed mommy. Not a mere moment of silence for mommy. Just chitter, chatter, boing, boing, boing. Non-fucking-stop.

So I broke. I did it. I'm now that asshole who did what I swore I'd never do. I'm not proud. But you know what? It didn't feel as bad as I thought it was going to. I totally get why my mom would crack on occasion. It's called HUMAN. And of all transgressions, telling your kid to shut up is piss in the wind. At least I didn't tell him to shut the fuck up, much as I may have felt so inclined. It's about the small victories, right?

My son? He tsked and chided me about my choice of language. I let him. I can't take it back. It's out there. And it's now somewhat of a legal retort for him, should he decide to include this in his vernacular. Maybe my grandkids will pass unscathed. Then again, I'm sure they'll find new and improved ways to instruct me to go fuck myself.

And Now For Some Perspective..

An AP report states that Ria Ramkissoon, a twenty-two year old religious cult member pleaded guilty last week to starving her one year old son to death after making an unusual deal with prosecutors: If the child is resurrected, her plea will be withdrawn.

The cult members stopped feeding the boy when he refused to say "Amen" after a meal. After the baby died, the mother sat next to his decomposing body and prayed for his resurrection. And when he started to decompose, she allowed her cult buddies to stuff the kid in a suitcase.

Uh, the kid was one. He probably couldn't talk. That's why he couldn't say "amen," you lobotomized jackass. Sad, sad, sad.

No Mercy