Motherhood Uncensored

This week has been brought to you by the letter "W"

Here's what I've been up to this week:

*Wicked new tattoos!

*Whining children!

*Waxed vaginas!

What's going on with you?

Missoni baloney

If you haven't heard, Target just launched a huge collection of products -- women and kids clothes, housewares, and accessories -- from the fashion house of Missoni, who are well-known for their signature striped and geometric patterns.

Or as my friend said "Whoa, that's busy!"

I'm not an overwhelming fan of their stuff, however I did score an actual Missoni a couple of years ago at TJ Maxx's Runway section that I love.

Awesomely unflattering photo stolen from Mom-101 and Mainline Mom

I was more curious to see the line from a Cool Mom Picks perspective, and because I think Target has done something so brilliant by bringing in big, well-known designers to create more affordable pieces.

That being said, I'd probably be more inclined to buy something for myself rather than my girls, who don't need a $20 pair of leggings from Target.

$5 - yes. But I'll take my $20 to a place where I know the leggings will last longer than a few wears and washes.

Then again, I'd rather spend $50 on something from Banana Republic or J. Crew where I know it's not going to be trashed after a couple of weeks, which has been my sadly consistent track record with Target clothes.

But alas, we attempted to feature the line on our site but couldn't even get onto the Target website because it had crashed. And apparently the same had happened in stores as well: people waiting in line and clearing the racks, not for themselves, of course, but rather to put all the items on eBay and make a buck. 

Now I'm not against capitalism or eBay, but when I see people who don't necessarily need the extra however-much money selling tons of items for way higher than the purchase price, I have to raise my eyebrow.

Aside from the sheer trouble of buying, photographing, and then shipping the items (mom of 4 kids talking here, I guess), I just can't really imagine taking such advantage of peoples' crazed desire to get their hands on something especially when I wasn't as equally desperate myself for the cash.

Are people dumb to pay $100 (or more) for a $50 dress -- from Target, no less? Yes.

Are people equally as crappy to try to make money off other peoples' desperation and stupidity? Yes.

I get that money is money, but to me, it looks a little different and doesn't quite smell the same, when you scored it by trying to take advantage of someone else. Even if they knowingly and willingly spend it.

Not the Duggars

I never thought I'd be the one to say that parenting four kids was different than parenting two because whoa, parenting two kids was pretty challenging.

Though truth be told, I was living at my in-laws at the time so that could have been a part of it.

But I've quickly learned that parenting four kids is so much different than parenting one, two, yes, even three, so much so that I have been desperately seeking the support of other moms who are in the same boat.

A very large, rocky, sometimes extremely hard to paddle, boat.

But since I couldn't really find anything, I decided that I would start something of my own. You know, in my free time.

So yesterday, along with Meagan Francis (one of my favorite people and the amazing woman behind The Happiest Mom), I launched 4 Kids or More, a blog that focuses specifically on parenting larger families. Especially modern larger families.

AKA NOT THE DUGGARS.

Thankfully, I'm not alone in this endeavor, because along with Meagan, I've enlisted the help of a few amazing women, like Molly from Mommy Coddle, Lylah from Write Edit Repeat, and Stephanie from Adventures in Babywearing.

We hope that 4 Kids or More will be a community for all moms (and dads) of many kids who are looking for support, ideas, and tips, as well as a place to share their own experiences and expertise.

I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one who can use a little help.

If you have a spare moment, I hope you'll stop by and say "hello." I think you'll find it to be a lovely place, with lots of wisdom. 

And if you don't have four kids, it might just be the inspiration, or, well, birth control you were looking for.

Nuts about peanut butter

This week, we featured a post at Cool Mom Picks about peanut butter alternatives for parents who might have kids in peanut-free classrooms. Little did we know that we were opening Pandora's Box.

Or Pandora's peanut shell.

To me, having to use something other than peanut butter or no nut butters at all is an extremely minor inconvenience compared to the possible result.

A dead kid.

I grew up with a dairy allergy now turned sensitivity and dealt with the similar with Quinlan, but I can't imagine how frightening it must be to have such a severe allergy to a nut. A teeny tiny not really that tasty nut.

But what frightens me more is the anger that people have about having to compromise.

Now I get that there might be a kid that only eats peanut butter and jelly and absolutely nothing else.

And to that I say "Oh well. What a great opportunity to get him to try a bologna sandwich and teach him compassion and empathy."

Heck, you could even leave off the compassion and empathy.

But the anger, the vitriole even, is shocking to me. And I think it speaks to bigger attitudes that some parents have - a sense of entitlement. An "I don't care what anybody thinks" belief system. Even when it comes to a kid possibly dying.

And more pervasive, I think, this idea that food allergies are somehow made up. Or not as bad. That these parents are coddling their children. 

Enter the long string of bullshit "We never had so many food allergies when I was a kid" comments that, well, make me break out in hives because really it's judging these parents for being overprotective, overreactive helicopters.

It can't really be true. They can't really die from being in the same room with a peanut. How absurd!

And yeah, I get the annoyance about helicopter parents whose tendencies stem from all sorts of things that I totally understand though can identify less with thanks to four kids who just don't give me as much time or energy to hover.

But to me, comparing helicopter parents to parents of kids with diagnosed food allergies is like comparing apples and oranges.

Or walnuts and cashews.

And then I have to wonder how people could have so much time and energy to care, to be angry even, about a teeny tiny not really that tasty nut.

It's nuts.

He's just not that into you

I'm quite certain had the book "He's Just Not That Into You" been around back when I was in college, it would have saved me a helluva lot of time, hand jobs, and awkward answering machine messages.

Aw. Remember those? When people used to give hand jobs?

The idea of two Sex and the City writers turned book turned really bad movie that could not even be saved with a shirtless Bradley Cooper wasn't some stroke of genius.

We women tend to overanalyze everything and believe that life actually happens the way we see it in our minds which in my case scarily resembles a romance novel or episode of "All My Children" from 1998. You know, where men who really like me don't actually express this so when they don't want to come up for a drink because they've got an early meeting or they don't call me when they say they will because they've had a "busy week," it's because they really do have a meeting or they were really busy.

Or they were taken by alien hookers and held against their will. 

We give men way too much credit when we think they're somehow not saying or doing something because they're playing games.

Case in point, look at the games they do play: A dude throwing a ball at another dude with a wooden stick who is trying to hit it and then run around in a circle.

That's some tricky stuff right there.

Of course, these days, I don't really care if my husband is not into me because I have a legally binding piece of paper from the Mayor of Landsdowne, Pennsylvania that says he has to be into me.

Or, at least pretend to be anyway.

But after thinking about this for awhile, I realized that this principle can be applied to a lot of male behavior.

{And if these happen to become movies with no plot starring a bunch of A-listers and Ron Howard's brother, you know who thought of them first}

He's just not that into clean clothes

Clearly, he knows how to put stuff in the right hole, so it must mean that he just doesn't care if his clothes stink, especially when they're combined with day old wet towels.

He's just not that into dresser drawers

It must be due to the enormous effort it takes for him to open and close them. 

He's just not that into empty kitchen sinks 

He seems to think that they're better filled with half of last night's dishes or still perfectly good, full sippy cups.

He's just not that into toilet paper holders

It's much more fun trying to balance the new roll on top of the old roll, like some sort of indoor bathroom log rolling.

He's just not that into key racks

There must just be something about the thrill of the chase that he can't live without.

And so, like when the light went off for me after I thought about all the times it was clear those dudes were just not into me, when I put the quirky things my husband does this way, it makes so much more sense now.

He's not purposely leaving dishes for me to clean, clothes for me to pick up, or keys for me to find. He's just not into that stuff.

Understanding is the first step to acceptance, after all, which is why I'm creating a manifesto for wives and mothers everywhere.

I'm calling it: "She's just not that into giving blow jobs."