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Have you seen or heard anything about the latest blogging rage called "Mommy Confessions"? I actually saw some of the bloggers and contributors on Oprah a few weeks ago who, thank F_*#%ing God, have finally convinced me I'm not the only mom around here that doesn't claim perfection.
And I'm sure as hell not about to link you up to it either, because my confessions are as good as theirs. And anyway, I've been admitting my faults for some time now, unlike others.
Got it?
So then it hit me... I think my entire blog is one F_%#ed Up Confession in general. I mean seriously, all day I've been asking myself, what the hell compels me to write about my husband's smelly taint?
But I've also never claimed to be a writer, especially one of substance. So what better else to do than steal the theme for my own personal blog content? Right?
A few personal confessions this week:
1. One of the hot dogs I was preparing for the kids dinner this weekend rolled across our entire kitchen floor, but because we had so many neighborhood brats over to eat, my husband gave me the look of approval and I swiftly lunged and grabbed that dog of dogs while quickly blowing lint off before serving.
2. I chose to serve the linty dog to my own child because I feared that in the small chance it rolled over an invisible pile of killer bacteria, I should have at least ensured it was my own kid that got sick. Right?
3. I'm embarrassed writing this because I think some of the people in my personal life now who read this will never trust in eating at my home again. But in all honesty, an "invisible pile of killer bacteria" could easily exist on our kitchen floor.
4. My daughters had their first experimentation with googling "bad" words. And let's just say that the conversation involved thorough explanation of why a woman shouldn't allow anyone else to straddle, lick or touch their own body parts because such behavior is not "respecting your own body".
5. My girls then decided to mimic certain contorted positions they seemed to have witnessed online while asking me what "respecting your own body" means.
6. I decided to give them a fudgsicle if we could just change the subject. And to be honest, I'm wondering if they learned those contorted positions online or if they actually just woke up late one night and we simply didn't hear them.
7. This story actually happened last year, but I'm confessing it today because my 6 year old typed "sex" in the search bar at my Moms office last week while she had them for a few hours. This obviously brought back memories.
8. Main reminder is the fact that I have still not loaded software to block inappropriate searches and sites, even though I swore I would last year after thinking my kids were traumatized forever.
9. My kids aren't traumatized. These little shits are just exposed to way more than we ever were growing up.
10. Through all this, I've learned the best way to stay on top of things is actively play truth or dare on the front porch with the my 2 daughters & the neighborgood girls when asked, probing about kissing boys, going out, and who's cute in the world of elementary school. Makeyla, I'm calling your Mom.
Peace Out.
