It's My Vag and I'll Steam If I Want To.

I don't generally write about current events but the latest installment in asshat politics has really burned my box and got me thinking about a bigger picture....

Let me say that I know I'm way late to this "party."  And is that next? Home steaming parties? Between Pampered Chef, Tastefully Simple, and Scentsy, there's a good name in there somewhere. (Tastefully Pampered Pussies, anyone?)

This isn't the bigger picture I was talking about.

First thing's first, let me be perfectly clear--I'm not steaming my vag.  For a person whose beauty regimen consists mainly of, um, showering (and really, isn't that enough steam for anyone's vag?) going to a spa and steaming my ladybits would be like going to a Mercedes-Benz dealership to have them wash the bumper of my KIA.

Second, I could not give a shit what Gwyneth is doing.  Not. One. Fuck. Given.  The woman has absolutely no bearing on my everyday life and as such, I care not how consciously or unconsciously she chooses to do anything.  I may think she's a snob or an idiot, but I don't even waste any time proclaiming that to anyone (Until now, I guess.)  Next week she'll be saying how upcycled goat shit is all the rage and how she's eating it on organic whole grain Melba toast three times a day but will I be running out to Trader Joe's to get some?  Nope.

But even my total apathy for Gwyneth is beside the point.  Or maybe it is exactly the point. I don't care what she does with her coot and NOBODY should care what I do with mine. There are women in this world who are tortured by genital mutilation and stoned to death for adultery and we should absolutely give EVERY FUCK about these women and these issues.  Meanwhile, back in 'Murica, we're worried about which Hollywood A-lister pampered her parts.

I'm not an activist.  Most days I can't conquer anything that isn't laundry (and some days I can't even manage that.) Today was a victory.

#laundry #thenotsosuperhouse #DONE #neverDONE

A video posted by @notsosupermom on Feb 15, 2015 at 3:24pm PST

I tend to shy away from these topics, but the more I think about it and read about the myriad ways in which we are losing control of our very vajayjays and how politicians want to tell us not only what we can and cannot DO with our vag, but what we can clothe it in (but, haha, he was joking, right?) it really made me think about everyone's attack on Gwyneth and her steamy snatch.  And whatever it is I'd ever do with mine.

Which is whatever the fuck I want.

Not that that's any of YOUR business.

It's my vag and I'll steam if I want to. #myvagmybusiness @notsosupermom_

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Is This Club Med?

Took a small break today. Just had to get away. Unfortunately it involved bad chest pains and a trip to the ER. Not how I envisioned my Sunday.

I was standing in the kitchen and felt some light pressure on my chest.  My first thought was maybe gas and I didn't think to much of it. About 45 minutes later I was sitting on the couch and the pressure came stronger. It felt like someone was sitting on my chest. The Sarge asked me if I was okay and I described what I was feeling. After a minute or two it passed.

Fifteen minutes later it came back, much stronger.  The pressure was really painful.  I found myself short of breath and I definitely got scared when I realized that my left arm was feeling tingly. I told Moo to go get her dad. The Sarge went into work mode (Firefighter/EMT) and started assessing "the patient."  He had me lie down on the couch and he called 911.

I was taken to the ER,  still experiencing the pain and pressure (somewhat reduced) in the ambulance. But the thought I had most the whole ride was how ridiculous this all felt. Don't get me wrong, I was scared. The pressure was awful and to be honest I was second guessing the tingliness until it went away--then I realized how real it had been. That was scary too.

But I couldn't shake the feeling that this was all too much. We kept jokingly lamenting about how much the ambulance ride would cost, how much we would pay for the tiny spray of nitroglycerin that went under my tongue.

I was tested and poked and questioned and nothing conclusive was found. I'm sure the doctors chalked it up to some kind of stress. Maybe Moo turning 13 tomorrow was weighing more heavily than I thought. I returned home, straightened up the kitchen, bathed the toddler and my trip to Club Med was quickly fading to memory.

Took a shower and saw the hickey-like marks left from the leeches of modern day medical technology. What they didn't extract in blood and biofeedback they will make up for in cold hard cash. No small bills. (See what I did there?)

In the end we have no idea what it was. EKG's were normal. Blood tests were normal. The biggest casualties of the day will be the hit our wallet will take from whatever the insurance doesn't cover. Peace of mind is expensive, but we must believe we are worth it.

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Twist of Faith

Faith is so easy, and so complicated.  

I have faith in a lot of things--that the sun will rise daily, that my kids will grow up to be good people, that Spring will come before I freeze to death this Winter.  I am trying to have faith that I will finish this blog post before 2016 (or at least before the challenge is over this week).  None of these are tangible things, and yet I hold real faith in them.  I believe them to not only be possible, but quite probable.  What I don't have faith in, is "Faith."

Faith as a synonym for personal religion doesn't mean much to me.  I rarely talk about politics or religion--not here on my blog and not in discussion with people--and yet the word faith, for me, immediately conjures religious connotations.  

I was raised Catholic, but we weren't "hardcore" about it.  Church always seemed a tiny bit scary and forever boring and just confusing.  We stand, we sit, we kneel.  We close our eyes, we pray, we chant.  I never got it.  I still don't.

Weekly mass came in fits and spurts as I remember, though through much of elementary school years we went to weekly CCD classes (episodes in social torture) and I couldn't tell you much of anything I learned there except that if you go to a weekly CCD class in another town (because your town doesn't have a Catholic Church), it is not an especially great place to make friends with a large group of kids who know and see each other everyday in school.  

As an adult I never practiced Catholicism.   I don't ever recall feeling any particular connection to it.  Ever.  It is ritualistic and dichotomous, and it (ok, mostly church) was something to be tolerated.  I tried as an adult to seek out God in other religions.  I took my kids with me to one particular church for months, but I still never made a real leap of faith there.  It was definitely a lot lighter and freer as a religion but for me it still carried a weight. Perhaps that was residual Catholic guilt.  I don't know, but nothing makes you feel like more of an outsider than being a non-believer in a group of believers.  

I think most people want to believe in something greater than themselves because life is a lot of responsibility and sometimes it sucks and if you are all there is then, well, YOU are all there is.  With great power comes great responsibility, blah, blah, blah....   Yeah we know.

People can be disappointing and miserable, but sometimes--a lot of the time--they are beautiful and loving.  And here's the thing--faith (as in, personal religion) doesn't make you a better person.  If you believe in what is good and know and do what is right, then you are a good person.  If you think that comes from God or from raising good kids then that's your prerogative.  If you want to pray to God that your kids behave, you are free to do that too.  

I have a feeling that a good many people may pray for me after reading this, and that's fine. I have faith that many others will know exactly where I stand.  The sun will come again tomorrow, my kids will grow up, Spring will get here eventually--these things I believe.  I understand, however, that what I need most to maintain is faith in myself. 

(I did it!)

This week's words were ALMOST, RARE, and FAITH
www.the-golden-spoons.com
(I did it!)

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Blog or Baby

Ever have someone tell you how cool or great something is, and then you try it?  If you've ever had a baby or a blog, you might know where I'm going with this.... 

Work - They are both a lot of work!  You want one, you think, that looks easy.  Sure, I could do THAT!  And then you got one.

Attention - Both are real attention hogs.  Babies need to eat and be held and they cry for attention. Blogs are good in that they don't cry, and you can pretty much go weeks and weeks (and WEEKS) ignoring them, but like babies, they can kinda die if you don't pay enough attention to them.

Money - Babies are EXPENSIVE.  I mean, those suckers need diapers, food, clothes, toys, gear.  Blogs don't need too much--unless you want them to really grow in which case you can drop a decent dime on advertising, custom names, web design and more.  Basically if you want either of them to grow at all, it's probably gonna cost you.

Time - Like attention and money, the more time you spend on your blog the more it will grow.  You can write every day if you HAVE the time or you can write once a week (or less, ahem), but writing is not the only time-consuming blogging activity. Social media probably wins that one.  Babies, on the other hand, are pretty much exclusive time-sucks. You can't spend time on the baby just once a week, although like your blog, you may spend a major amount of time pimping them out on social media.

Social Media - Social media can be a wonderful way to share your baby and your blog with the world. I often shared photos and updates about my baby with family and friends through social media. Similarly, my family and friends are frequently bombarded updated with my blog on social media. Now if they would just get the word out, I'd have tons of other people to bother and I'd hardly notice when they stop paying attention.

Pride - Of course everyone is proud of their baby. Even ugly babies have proud parents. Just like giving birth, writing can involve much pacing, sweating, cursing and pushing. And ultimately when we are proud of what we wrote, it is scary to put it out there and risk our blog-baby being called "ugly"--even if it is only by some anonymous internet troll.

So whether you planned to have a baby, or start a blog, or just sort of stumbled into one or the other, they can both be a lot of work but both are very rewarding.

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Dear Blog,

Dear Blog,

Sincerely,  The NotsoSuperMom

I've been thinking a lot about us lately and I've come to the conclusion that things just aren't right between us.  And I have to admit that it's not you, it's me.

I have not been the blogger that I set out to be.

It's been over four years and although things have never been outrageous, they've been slow (or sometimes at a complete standstill) and (sorta) steady. You've always been here for me whenever I need a place to vent, but I have not held up my end of the bargain.

I made promises I never kept.  I didn't commit to you the way I should have.  I didn't give you the time and attention you needed and I never made you a priority.  I cast you aside to fold clothes, to tend to sick kids, to cut coupons, to sleep.  I have never been as dedicated as I intended.

I try to put on a good face.  I post things on your facebook page.  I have tried to make things look good in the social media, but it's just not the same since I haven't been with you like I should be.  I have been a neglectful and lazy mistress.

And the ugly truth is, I've cheated.

I've have seen a few other blogs.  It's nothing serious, but there have been a few quickies here and there.  A funny story, a heartfelt letter, maybe a poem.  And a lot of memes--just too many to say. And I feel SO GUILTY that I spent time with them when I can't even make time for my own blog. WHAT KIND OF BLOGGER AM I?!?

So the big question is: where do we stand?  I don't want to make more promises that I won't can't keep, but I really think we need to try.  I think we need to spend some time and get to know each other again.

I love you SO much and I want to make this right.  I want to be better.  How can I make this up to you?

Sincerely,

The NotsoSuperMom

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I Got You Covered. Period.

If you are a mother of sons, you can read this and appreciate that you are spared this ultra special bonding experience between you, your precious princess, and Aunt Flo. 

If you are a mother of daughters, you may want to be sure you've got ALL your bases covered in the feminine hygiene department. 

Because "here's the thing: in all of the knowledge you may impart about ovaries and uteri, blood and babies, pads and tampons, no one ever tells you the really IMPORTANT stuff about having your period. Until now...."

http://inthepowderroom.com/just-the-facts-period/

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Three Cheers for #myChargeCheer

No coincidence that my last post (let's not discuss that it was THREE months ago, shall we?) was for a myCharge giveaway.  For being involved in the giveaway, I was able to get a myCharge Energy Shot portable charger.  The Sarge used it on a recent trip to California and he was impressed.  It charged his phone WAY faster than the airport charging station.  myCharge is no joke  when it comes to portable power and they want to keep you going for the holidays (and all the days)!

 

This holiday season myCharge is spreading some serious cheer – and portable power – by offering to send one of their awesome portable charging devices to their Twitter followers--FOR FREE--just for RT’ing a tweet for their  #myChargeCheer campaign!  That's it!  Just visit their Twitter page, RT THIS tweet and myCharge will send you a totally free, no strings attached portable charger!  HOW COOL IS THAT?!?

Tell your friends and spread the #myChargeCheer this holiday season!  They'll think you (and myCharge) are totally awesome!  And they'd be right!

_________________________________

myCharge Red RazorPlus

If you're not on twitter, there is another way you can experience the power of myCharge.  I have teamed up with myCharge to offer you a Red RazorPlus.  This is a portable charger worth $49.99 that delivers an additional 13 hours of talk time for your smartphone! 

And if you still haven't found that perfect gift, myCharge is offering 25% off all chargers with the code JOLLY.  Don't be caught dead without a myCharge charger this season!  

myCharge Red RazorPlus Givveaway

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