Tag Archives: Bitchin’

No Bitchin’ For One Day

26 Aug

I tried not bitchin’ for one full day.  And by mid-morning I felt like I was on some type of sabbatical quest to unearth a lost treasure.  It just seemed impossible.  At days end my blood pressure was categorically high, my fuse was short and my patience was worn thin; holding my tongue all day was like eating soup with a fork.  Here’s the background on what inspired my ambitious journey:  I can be seen as an aggressive person, an attribute I actually take pride in.  It’s a great way to weed out the simple-minded people who try to bring weakness into your life.  I consider myself  strong not feeble; mouthy not timid, assertive not passive, confident not self-loathing. So when it was brought to my attention that I push people away with my “hard-to-swallow” personality, I decided to test myself.  Be a tad docile for a day and see where it gets me.  So basically no bitchin’.  (xanax time)

Ok, great here we go:  The morning started off well.  Nothing too overwhelming happened…I mean I could have griped about the toothpaste residue in the bathroom sink, or his drawers on the bathroom floor, or the wet foot prints in front of the shower door– but I didn’t.  I just cleaned up the mess and threw his dirty laundry in the basket.  I could have got started when sweetness demanded I cut the crust off her sandwich–a grievance I guess she’d harbored since the afternoon before when she had to peel off  her own damn crust—*gasps* oh so earth shattering, but I replied with a “yes sweetie”.    Then in my downtime I got on the computer to check out my social networks.  And while I wanted to honestly and bluntly comment on some of the fuckery that I was seeing online, I knew I had an ultimate goal in mind and people who I don’t even care about weren’t going to take my eye off the prize.

And at the end of the day….I wish I could say I felt enlightened, relaxed, overcome with joy, but I didn’t… I felt the effin’ same.  In fact I felt worse, because I couldn’t be who I truly wanted to be.  All of the suppressed bitchin’ created a negative energy field for me.  There’s a reason women like me can’t hold their tongue, we will  freaking stroke out if we did.  I, personally don’t bitch just to bitch, my goal is to make everything better ( isn’t this such a distorted way of thinking).  So much to the dismay of my husband I’m back to the old me and the “no bitchin'” me is long gone.  I’m sure the hubs thought this little experiment was going to last a few days maybe even weeks to which I reply “chilllle please!!”

June Cleaver Who?

4 Jun

It seems like everyone has become a professional blogger.  You know how it goes. “This blog is just a platform for me to share my thought-provoking and enlightening experiences”—NOT! My mind works in mysterious ways.  Seriously, sometimes I question the way the synapses synapse to make me think of the things that my brain conjures up.  First let me say, I am a critic of conventional wisdom.  I am the antithesis of June Cleaver.  I will probably offend some but many will fall in love with me. I read parenting books and magazines just to refute the bs they propagate.  My kids eat Kid Cuisine’s, Swedish Fish and watch well over the recommended dose of TV; yet my 6-year-old was the smartest in her class with benchmarks off the charts and my twins are not your average toddlers  (their genius seriously scares me—more about that in later posts).

Think of me as that little nuisance on your shoulder, but are too ashamed/embarrassed/reserved to acknowledge (aloud).  I have no filter and I don’t proclaim to know it all.  I once thought an Atari was a musical instrument and often mistake a screwdriver with a monkey wrench.  But here’s what I do know:  I am a wife to a man who was created just for me.  Seriously he just gets me, no questions asked.  Our relationship just works.  And I am the mother of three of the most adorable little divas-in-trainings, but I’m not afraid to admit they’re bad very adventurous! They’re smart, rambunctious and keep me on my toes.  The four of them are the reasons why Bitchin’ is my first language.

It’s funny because they know when I’m about to get started–even the 20-month-olds.  My nose flares, I pop my gum , huff and puff.  My already soprano voice raises an octave and my Jersey accent mysteriously returns.  Then all of a sudden I speak like a mob boss and the commands begin to spew and everyone scatters.  Well,  scatter is an exaggeration, but they do look at me as if I’m some crazy, possessed person from a Yo Gabba Gabba episode gone bad.  Sometimes my tactics work, and most times it doesn’t.  But I’m no longer in denial.  I bitch, nag and complain and surprisingly, everything stays the same.  Rule of Life #1208 Bitchin’ Ain’t Easy, but look good while doing it.

Photos Courtesy of HWillMama