Motherhood Uncensored

How Good (or Bad) of a Mama Have You Been This Year?

C'mon, people! We can't sit around and wax religious all week long. What's mother's day without a glass dildo and a vibrator that plugs into your iPod, I say?

Giveaways (last day to win cool stuff): Click here and here for more information. *Make sure you read the directions before you just say "Me Pick Me!"

Blog Blast: We've got a special extended blast through May 8 with Johnson & Johnson's new charity site, Baby Cause. Tell us how you want to be recognized this Mother's Day -- stuff, flowers, dildos? (click the link for participation details). You could win a JnJ gift pack and PBN will donate $25 to the Global Giving charity of your choice (10 winners!). Oh, and if you want to bid on Poppy Montgomery's High Chair, check out their eBay auction. (heh).

Settle an Argument for me and the huz. Are these shoes girly or European? Added: Click this link for a pic of them on my son!

ADDED: The MOMocrats asked and Obama actually answered! Check it out.

Imposition.

If I had to guess what my daughter and mom talked about while I was gone, I could pretty much figure it out based on all the "God is Love" songs and talk about heaven that's been happening since my mom left. It's no secret to me that my mom is incredibly worried that I won't go to heaven. But now it's clear she's taken it upon herself to make sure my kids won't share my own same fate.

Hell.

Ever since I decided that fear mongering religion that marginalized specific groups of people wasn't for me (or really, when I decided I wanted to have sex without guilt), my mom has been scared for my eternal soul. She doesn't mention it as much any more, mainly because I've asked her not to do so, but she'll still indicate that she's praying for me.

It's really not that I hate religion, or don't respect folks who choose to believe in a specific faith and live it fully. It's that I don't believe religion should promote fear or hate or judgment of others. And I don't believe it should interfere with a person living a full life because God said they can't do certain things or in extreme cases, wear certain things.

I understand the role that religion plays in my own mother's life. It provided her solace after my sister died. And my father. And her boyfriend. It gives her hope, security, and peace. But I do believe that it limits her -- in her sometimes extreme interpretation, I think it stifles her experiences of life.

And that's her choice. But it doesn't need to be mine. And I don't need her to make it that way.

The truth is, I don't feel as though her dutiful prayerfulness makes God listen to her anymore than me. And I don't believe that it means that people need to worry about me, or anyone else who might be considered "a lost soul."

Is it wrong for me to feel just a little bit annoyed that she just brought "A Bible Disguised as a Storybook" to my house with her?

I have yet to figure out how religion will fit into our lives. Perhaps we will always be Easter and Christmas church goers, with our own private way of celebrating our spirituality. But I hate to think that it makes us "bad" or "wrong" or "terrible" because we're not underlining verses in our Bible, or attending church every Sunday.

I love my children with every inch of my "heathen" soul and will do everything in my power to guide them in what's good and right in the world, which may or may not include an organized religion.

Doesn't that count for something?

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On a lighter note, check out a fun round-up of my trip to San Francisco.

Edited to add: If you live in ATL and know a cool place to do a book signing, specifically a place that a) you'd come see me at and b) that doesn't sell coffee (long story...), please drop me an email.

Not Exactly the Conversation I Wanted to Have With My Mom at 5am On the Way to the Airport With Both Kids Awake in the Car

"And can I suggest that you get Drew circumcised because I never realized how many bladder infections a woman could have until I married your father and you know, you should really pee before and after intercourse and I had to take sulfate tablets all the time because I got so many bladder infections so you should really do your son's wife a favor and get him circumcised because that foreskin on his penis is a little red right now."

Or, I could teach him how to keep it clean when he gets older. PS: This pregnant mother of two thanks you for the tips on intercourse, Mom, as well as the horrible indelible images of you and dad having sex a lot. Like I needed something else to make me barf.

Peas & Carrots.

On most of my brief visits home, I don't get to see my mother much. She only lives an hour from my in-laws on the Jersey side of the city, but it's a long hour, made more tenuous on her arrival when she has to visit with my in-laws around.

I've spent the last few years pushing the grandchildren on her. Granted, it was never an issue for my mom. She's a baby whisperer and consummate grandmother -- the one who will give long baths chock full of crazy kitchen utensils that always make the best bath toys, read stories for hours and hours, and hold them in her arms all night if that what it takes to get them to sleep.

She's mentioned, in passing, when we've had our tiffs about her making an effort to see the grandchildren, that she actually would like to see me. Alone. Without the kids.

I've shrugged it off, offering her precious time with the ones that are far cuter than my old tired mug. 

But as my own daughter gets older, I realize how much I'll miss our time together. Her independence is both refreshing and sobering. And these days, I find myself admiring her from afar.

While I'm sure I'll love the moments I'll have with her children, I know there's no doubt I'll want to hold her tight in my arms, snuggle up close, and whisper "you know you're my best girl, right" softly in her ear.

Even when she's my age.

I know full well that things will change. Maybe things won't be how they are now. My own mother and I were never close. But I bet there were days when we were just like peas and carrots. Where she sat and read me long bedtime stories and stroked my hair until I fell asleep. 

And so, on those possibly infrequent visits where I'll spoil my grandchildren like any grandmother would, I know I'll still long to hold my own sweet daughter close and tell her I love her more than life itself.

I can only hope that she, unlike me, will oblige her dear old mom's request.

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Please share your portrait of mom or motherhood today on your own blog. Click this link for more details.

I Left My Fart in San Francisco

*The archives are live if you want to watch!*

I'm pregnant. So sue me.

After struggling through the day with a son who just decided to have separation anxiety (read: total and utter hate for my sweet and lovely mother), a neighbor I didn't even know drove me to the airport and I was off to San Francisco.

In first class.

Now know this. Even though the huz works for the airlines, we have never been placed in first class. EVER. Of course, anyone we give a buddy pass to does. But us, never.

Until now. When I'm pregnant. And can only sniff the vodka tonic of my seat mate.

But hey. I got to cry my way through Juno, while eating a turkey focacia sandwich. And I got to stretch my long pregnant legs out and snooze.

So, we're here, and apparently we're going to be on View From the Bay this afternoon which you can watch live on your television in you live in the Bay area, but you can also watch us live via web stream (or via the archives if you're busy) from 3-4pm PST. I have no idea when in that hour we'll be on, but for a solid seven minutes, we will be showing off our favorite Mother's Day gifts from Cool Mom Picks (many of which are made by moms!).

I'll be the tall pregnant one in black. Hopefully not farting.

[ps. If you're looking for the genius water and sand table, it's the cool Target outdoor toy brand (don't know the name). $39.95]