Motherhood Uncensored

You'll shoot your eye out.

While I was away last week, my in-laws came down to watch the kids and brought with them a bevvy of gifts, including the mother lode of shitty candy, a couple of porcelain ballerina dolls for Quinlan and a Mac truck for Drew, all of which they'd sleep with if we'd let them. 

And a gun.

Okay, so it was a springloaded, foam rocket shooting gun. But still. For all intents and purposes, it's a gun.

Now I'm not completely averse to all things that shoot. Just ask my husband. (heh).

But when it comes to guns and kids, regardless of whether they're full of water, foam, or whatever else they make these days, I'm just not down with it.

Granted, my kids have stolen a teeny mini water gun from our neighborhood pool that ended up in our bathtub that ended up shooting me in the eye with water that ended up in the trash.

And I bought them animal shaped squirters on clearance from Babies R Us. Maybe I'm in denial by calling them "squirters" when they're really just guns dressed up like drunk farm animals, but since I'm really the only one who can squirt them and they have cross eyes for God sakes, I have deemed them "bath toys" and gone on my merry way.

But when I innocently loaded up this rocket gun and stupidly let my son shoot it, I was pissed. Not only because the thing took all my energy to load, but because when he shot it, the damn rocket made a mark on my ceiling.

I can only imagine how that thing would feel had it hit my thigh, or Margot's head.

So when Drew wasn't looking, I snatched up his little rocket gun, mumbled something about "fucking guns your in-laws damnit stupid ass toys" to my husband, and tossed it right in the trash.

Because guess what? In my house, there is no 2nd amendment, thank you very much.

[I realize some of you are having issues leaving comments. Please email me and I'm happy to post them. Sorry!]

Sex After Childbirth - Hot or Not?

I realize there are a bunch of moms whose husbands have circled that six-week date on the family calendar like it's some sort of holiday. Except it's not one that she wants to celebrate.

But there's also a bunch of women who are really looking forward to hopping back into the sack, thanks to a really long sex-less pregnancy, or even just the desire to feel human again after those grueling first post partum weeks.

And while iit wasn't necessarily "HOT" (or hey, maybe it is), it was way better than you thought it would be.

Today from 10:30am EST to 10:45 (that's 15 lousy minutes people!) on "Morning Sex with Mominatrix," I'll be discussing a Mominatrix dad reader who asked how to prepare for sex after childbirth, and make it a positive experience for his spouse. Apparently, she's a little worried about how it's going to feel.

And unfortunately, until that baby actually comes out, it's a bit hard to say. But perhaps you can offer your expertise in that area as well. Or in the least, cast your vote in our "hot or not" poll later this morning.

You can listen live and chat at Blog Talk Radio, call in, or catch the archived show in my side bar (top left). And if you like listening, please consider subscribing via iTunes. And telling all your friends on Twitter.

Multiple personalities

While I might be pretty damn foul-mouthed and controversial, I don't curse in front of my kids. And I don't talk about vibrators in daily conversation. Usually, at least.

But based on my "introduction" for my panel at the Mom 2.0 Summit, you just might think otherwise.

I'm struggling with identities these days, particularly as they tend to collide in real life circumstances. On one hand, I'm a mom who writes about motherhood without a filter. But on the other, I'm a business owner, professional speaker, and author.

And when the twain shall meet, it can actually be pretty awkward.

When I heard that our moderator had a surprise for us, which turned out to be an actor to dramatically interpret my V is for Vasectomy post at the beginning of my panel, I was really scared.

[To be fair, I didn't voice my fear, but I felt like I was not in a decision making position.]

And during the actual reading, I saw the faces of people laughing in the crowds. But I saw the people who looked extremely uncomfortable.

Now, I can't lie. I did laugh.

But I couldn't help it. I'm funny. (And obviously not humble or modest. Haha!).

And, I did my best to take what was a pretty odd start to a professional panel and turn it into a talking point - that mom bloggers are not these crazed women spouting off about cock rings and their son's humping at any chance they get. And that the moms marketers are trying to reach are not our mothers.

I understand that I straddle a fine line. My personal has become my professional in a way, and it's certainly afforded me great opportunities.

And I get it. I write about sex and condom lollipops and orgasms.

But I also write about other stuff too.

So when I'm introduced by my discussion about snipping my husband's testicles, I'm not sure if it gives me much street cred in a marketing conference. Or at least, the kind of cred that I think is appropriate for that particular situation.

This blog is my outlet. However, it is one note in a composition that is my fairly diverse life.

I'm fairly sure that Lindsay's life isn't all about turmoil, and I know for a fact that Mom-101 knows what she is doing.

And I know that there's a time and place for everything.

It doesn't mean I'm embarrassed by my own words. It just means that it sort of freaked me out to be introduced as the mom who talks about vasectomies, especially since I wasn't speaking at a vasectomy support meeting, or at a writing seminar on how to write about your husband's balls.

I'm glad to see that folks enjoyed it. And I've yet to hear from those people who might have wanted to run away screaming.

I'm a woman, who happens to be a mom, who happens to do a lot of other things. Some of which involve large vibrating instruments. And others which have absolutely nothing to do with my vagina.

And while I'm more than proud to be "just a mom," when you're sitting in the front of the room to share your expertise as a mom, writer AND a consultant, I think there's a big difference.

I guess this goes to the point that we're moms but there's just so much more to us than that. I think it's something that marketers need to hear and understand. I'm just not sure if that intro was the way to do it.

Mommy's New "Stamper"

 

 

 

Any guesses as to what it is and what it means? If it helps, you're looking at it upside down.

Tales from Mom 2.0 Summit Part 1 - Because I am too tired and lame to think of a better title

One of the many nice things about staying in a super swanky hotel in a ridiculously gihugic penthouse suite, other than all your friends running into celebrities (even ones with their hookers at least that's what Devra and Sarah said and Devra's a good Jew and would never lie) are the bathroom samples. I'm talking top notch high quality lotions, shampoos, and body washes that you'd otherwise pay more for than should be humanly allowed. Well at least when it comes to stuff you wash your hair with anyway.

And keeping this in mind, I didn't pack any products. It's the Four Seasons, right? I'm not going to be left with a bottle of Head and Shoulders and a teeeeeeeny bar of soap that could easily get stuck in my asscrack if I wasn't careful.

Low and behold, I was correct.

"There's BVLGARI hand lotion in the bathroom!!!!!!!!!!!" Julie screamed on the phone from the room.

There was also a walk-in closet the size of Quinlan's room, a dining room table, a chandelier, and a television monitor peephole.

Thank you, Kirtsy Girls, for treating the speakers with babies like celebrities.

The first two nights I showered with my personal favorite, L'Occitane, and tried not to drink it. But on the last night, I decided since I couldn't bring all the bottles back, I'd try the BVLGARI before Julie crammed them into the last few spaces in her suitcase.

And wouldn't you know I walk to the car after catching a 5:45am flight out of Houston to a wrinkle-nosed husband.

"Why do you smell like a men's cologne?" he asked. Yes, apparently he could smell me coming.

I rolled my eyes.

We had just made it through the front door when he asked me to take a shower.

"I think I'd rather smell my asscrack" he told me. "Why don't you just jump in a vat of Patchouli because that would be about 3000 times better?" he continued.

Like a mature adult, I shoved my head under his nose, waved my arm pits around rapidly, and told him to fuck off.

"Well, it was a Mom's conference, you know. It's not like we were having wild orgies every night," I reassured him.

Good thing he doesn't know the moms I'm dealing with.

[To be continued...]