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6 Reasons My Husband and I Probably Won’t Make Your Event, and Why We Don’t Want You to Take it Personal…

Look at this asshole.

So basically, you have financial issues, you have trust issues and you have kids.

Number one reason you wouldn’t be going to my event, is because anyone who would write a list like this is ego-maniacal, attention-seeking and the one who is “drama filled.”

No one is THAT pressed to have you and your hubby at their shin dig. And any one who WAS probably isn’t now.

She Speaks

MomNDad

I was trying to figure out which blog this topic should go under, and decided that it fell more so into the “parental/family” category, so here goes!

Over the past weekend, we unfortunately missed at least two pretty important celebrations of life events for some of our closest friends (and Thankfully they are the type of people who understood the reasoning for our absence, and they’re ok…Everybody isn’t though). These were occasions that we were actually invited to, RSVPd for, and expected to attend. Then a little thing called LIFE happened, and our fun-filled weekend was replaced with a killer sinus headache, an exhausted Mommy, a sneezing/stuffy Daddy, trying to get a car battery replaced, a coloring book marathon with my 4-year old, and a massive poop explosion from the 11-month old tyrant! So…in all things typical of a writer, I decided to turn this experience into a special…

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Parent Groups: Hell on the Internet

From a Parent who knows

For almost 3 years, I’ve been a mom to a little girl. I had a few close calls. Not in that way, but yea, maybe in that way, too. There was the time a girlfriend dropped off a 2wk old baby to me and never came back when I was 21. There’s the time in 1999, I met a pregnant girl in the unemployment line and 24 hours later, I was delivering her baby at St Vincent’s hospital in NYC. I had the pleasure of watching a single dad and a single mom raise each of those kids and figure it out through trial and error. Sure, they made some missteps along the way, but both of those girls are still alive and breathing. I’d even go as far to say, those girls, now young women, are doing well.

Because it’s now 2013, I did what a lot of parents do, I joined online parenting groups. Correction. I joined online MOM groups, because dads certainly don’t need to crowd source raising children like moms do. In that two years, it’s amazed me how women have completely rejected the idea of listening to their gut and getting to know their kids in favour of asking a bunch of strangers who have never met you or your child at all and most importantly, are not professionals.

I do internet for a living. I love you, internet. You feed my family. But the internet has given mere mortals the power to dole out information to the general populations in attempt to pass off personal experience as proven scientific theory. Quite often, it’s been a frustrating but interesting ride, this online motherhood thing. I write off belonging to these groups as a virtual “it takes a village to raise a child” but when cultures and parenting styles clash, it doesn’t take much to make the trolls rear their ugly heads. THE SHADE of these groups. THE DRAMA. If someone is doing it different than you, you’re just wrong. The end. Pro-Tip: Every mom should be an expert in her own children, and not try to project her expertise on a child that is not hers. Can that just be a rule?

Can another rule be, if your child is an asshole, please don’t try to give me any parenting tips? #kthxbai

It really baffles me how moms opt to forego advice from doctors and elaborate scientific research and choose instead to put the life of their child in the hands of these communities who neither have the time (as mothers,) nor the background to digest and analyse the complex studies. Or defer to a few fear-based YouTube videos or even worse, celebrities. (I’m talking to you Jenny McCarthy.)

Lastly, these groups as therapy. So much complaining. So much, my “DH didn’t do this.” “My MIL did that.” “Some stranger questioned this about my parenting.” COMMISERATE WITH ME. I stand by and watch women enable each other and say “YOU GO GIRL! FUCK ALL OF THEM. US AGAINST THEM!” Instead of saying, “How about this? Give yourself a break. This is your kid, you’re doing it the way you want to. What someone else says doesn’t really matter. And when someone says something dumb to you. Laugh. It’s worked for me.”

So, moms. Ease up on the key board and the internet. Raise your kids the way our parents raised us. Without over-analysing every little thing and start listening to our kids and our doctors. Get off Youtube and go to a park. It’s a lot more fun to play with our kids IRL than chat with a bunch of moms online. Promise.

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Mixed up

Love for Leni

Today is day 7 of Leni “the fighter” Hsiao’s chemo treatment and by all accounts, she is continuing to respond well. Once this phase of treatment is complete, the wheels will begin to be put in motion for her to get a bone marrow transplant – but getting a bone marrow donation to save her life will be much harder for her than it would be for most people.

Good friends of the Hsiaos put together this amazing website that provides background info about mixed race donorship and how to join the bone marrow registry:

View story at Medium.com

Stay tuned for further updates about swab drives and further info about Leni’s situation.

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My Boobs: For Your Viewing Pleasure

When I realised that my 34F’s were not feeding my 4mo daughter, I laughed through my tears and said to myself, “Well, I guess God DID make my boobs just for people to look at.” I felt like an abject failure. I wanted to make it to at least 6mo. I sent out an email to my mom gfs begging “What do I do? What am I doing wrong? Am I a bad mom?” Most of my friends were super supportive but one friend was downright abrasive, and 100% right. She told me that no one should care if I BF or give my child formula. Do what I need to do and chin up. “Ouch!” was my first reaction but “OK!” was my next. I found a friend who donated milk to me and that helped with the part of me that felt like she was missing out on some magic that Breast Fed children were getting.

You know, breast feeding is the most unintuitive things I’ve ever had to experience. It was confusing and cumbersome and frustrating.

  • What do I do with my arms?
  • Why did the nurse just SMASH my child’s entire face into my breast?
  • Can she breathe like this?
  • Is she eating enough? Continue reading
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Can I Haz Sleep Now?

I can’t put it any better than this.

Listen. You’re tired. I GET IT. But eventually, they’ll sleep. You can try everything or you can try nothing, they’ll do whatever they’re going to do. Some babies are good sleepers, some will torture you for as long as they can. One thing is for sure, as soon as you think you have the hang of it, some milestone, or growth spurt, or tooth, or new baby is going to come and F*CK. YOUR. SH*T. UP. So learn how to make good coffee at home and sleep when they sleep. It’s going to be a bumpy road. You’ll be amazed how well you can function on little to no sleep. I don’t know how or why, but it was so much easier to pull these all nighters when I was slut bagging it around NY in my 20s. Good luck. We’re all going to need it.

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A Reluctant Birth Story

I thought it would be a really great idea to take a month long vacation in three European Countries while I was 7 months pregnant. I was right. It was a great idea! When I returned to LA, I was ready to take “Birthing Classes.” But because of my vacation, I couldn’t find a birthing class to join, surely that meant I would not be able to give birth, right? My friend and father of a 5yo boy told me, “I have a birthing class for you. Go into labor. Go to the hospital. The doctors will take care of everything. Now give ME $300.” Ah…jokes. He expects me to just go in and to trust trained professionals. I did the one thing I shouldn’t have done. I over-informed myself. I watched this movie called “The Business of Being Born” which I fondly refer to as “Birth Propaganda.” I read books. Consulted the internets. Listened to my friends who had home births or labored at home and had zero interventions.

Equipped with all of the knowledge (!) I had my birth plan. Labor at home. Walk the mile to the hospital (HA!) and have a beautiful natural birth at the hospital. (I wasn’t crazy enough to have a home birth. My home is neither equipped for such an undertaking, nor am I THAT crunchy.)

MEANWHILE – IRL

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