A friend of mine just called me from a restroom at a Jumpy House place, fuming. She had arrived with her daughter for a 6 year old's birthday party when she was told at the checkin that it was $10 for her child AND $10 for her if she was planning jumping. Also, though she was informed that her daughter needed socks, she was NOT informed that she would need some as well, but she could buy some for $8. She paid the fee and took her daughter in and then excused herself to call me from the restroom. I agreed with her, on all counts. Who the fuck charges you to come to a birthday party AND bring a present??? But fine. Fine. She paid the fee, not everyone is going to do things the way we expect them to. We move on.

Then we both get an e-vite to a mutual friends child's Birthday party and at the bottom there is a sign-up sheet, to bring an item, ranging from chips, apples, drink boxes, etc. So, we sign up for drinks and I think, well that's weird. But, Birthday parties are expensive, maybe they need help and I totally get that, so we get our Costco case of drinks and move on. I like this family. THEN we get an e-vite reminder and a Gift request that instead of the usual Target Toys if we would all go to his favorite Sports store and purchase a gift card for him from there. 

For some reason, out of all the other stuff, THIS offended me. I thought it was sort of ... well... Tacky. I'm pretty easy going and throwing a birthday party in your home can cost hundreds of dollars, so I didn't have a problem bringing something to contribute, in fact, I probably would have offered, but the present thing... this kinda bugged me.. Why? I mean, no big secret that we were bringing a gift... it's a freakin' birthday, but something about being told what he wanted specifically just rubbed me the wrong way. 

Maybe I'm a bad person, but we got him what we wanted to get him and totally ignored the request... just because. In all fairness, I COULD have gone to that sport store and gotten him a gift card and I might have in the first place, since I know them pretty well, but being asked to... I don't know... More Here...

The recent headline I saw this morning about Beverly Hills moms outing themselves as pot smokers and edible Chefs was really interesting to me.

Read here: http://scallywagandvagabond.com/2013/06/have-you-met-the-marijuana-moms-of-beverly-hills-getting-high-makes-for-better-parenting/

This story made me happy. I don't know why, maybe I should have felt outrage and anger and go all judgy on these doobie lovin' moms, but the only thing that really bothered my about this story was her choice of a yellow top. Blondes should not wear banana yellow. And it clashed with her bong. 

I read this story and a number of things crossed my mind; First and foremost, that it's just a matter of time when we see the newest Bravo show previews for "Bored Beverly Hills Housewives meets Weeds", and I would probably watch... Not with commercials of course, I would DVR it and watch only when nothing else is on.

Secondly, I thought look. Who CARES? Are they raising a new generation of kids who will also love them some Mary Jane or will they ground break with a new strain of Indica and call it, Purple Nurple or something like that. Where is the harm? Unless they are your neighbors or trying to sell to your kids or back over your kids toys when all stony to the boney, right?

I'm not taking this seriously. I know. I can't though. We are a nation of pill poppers and mommy "juice" and herbs and things that can help us manage and get through the day. Parenting is hard, and on top of that, you have all the other regular, daily stresses of life; bills, relationships, jobs, etc. Why SHOULDN'T we do what we can to take the edge off? To disconnect just enough that it's manageable? I know that when I'm stressed about things, my general mood is low and my patience and tolerance for my kids is a lot shorter than normal, why wouldn't I take something that could ease all that and wouldn't it make me a better parent?? 

What is the REAL difference from taking an anti-depressant so you don't feel awful all day or a Vicodin if your back hurts chronically. Chronic, daily pain is horrific. Yes. I agree with taking what you need to take in order to make your life better. Is that that what these particular women are doing though? Are they in chronic pain? Or do they just like to not feel real life? Because let's be honest, not everyone thinks that reality is all that awesome. More Here...

This is not a topic that I personally know so much about as I do not speak from personal experience: reproductive coercion. Reproductive coercion, according to NYmag.com's article Reproductive Coercion: When Men Sabotage Birth Control collectively defines what exactly reproductive coercion is, as per a survey that was conducted on the issue:

Surveying 641 women who received routine ob-gyn care at Providence’s Women and Infants Hospital, Clark [researcher] found that 16 percent had received unwelcome pressure to get pregnant. Their boyfriends and partners made it hard for them to use birth control — poking holes in condoms or hiding their pills — or threatened to leave or harm them if they didn’t get pregnant. More Here...

When my son was in Kindergarten, he grew curious about me. I think around 5 is when kids start to realize that their parents are people and that they were kids too once. I'm no expert, but my daughter started to make inquiries around that time too. They would ask me what my room looked like and if played with Legos and if I fought with my sister. You would see in their faces, trying to imagine me as a little kid doing the things I shared with them; jumping rope for hours, bugging my older sister, making mud pies, getting in trouble. Then my son asked me, where my dad was. I told him simply, that my dad died when I was 9. 

I've always dreaded and looked forward to this conversation with him. I wanted to tell him of his Grandpa that he will never know and I only knew for a short while. I wanted to tell him that my dad was a jokester and a brilliant writer and Ad man. How he made bad jokes and snorted when in a good laugh and was adored by everyone and anyone that crossed paths with him during his life. I wanted to tell him that he shared his middle name with my dad and his penchant for sarcasm. 

But, I also knew that by me telling him my dad died when I was young, would put in his young mind the knowledge that, something like that could happen. That losing a parent was possible. And I didn't want him to know that yet. I feel that a part of my childhood was stolen, not for the loss of my father, but for the fear after, that I could also lose my mother. 

I spoke of my dad's death in a matter-of-fact kind of way. I built it up that he ate a lot of red meat, drank his share of booze, smoked cigarettes and didn't exercise. And then I casually reminded him, that's why we have well-checks and eat fruit and I go to the gym. And even though, he never straight out asked, could that happen to you, I knew it was in there somewhere, and I wanted to answer the question before he could ask it. More Here...

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