Friday, July 29, 2011

Wet and Slimy


Before kids, my idea of outdoorsy was floating on a raft in a pool within an arms reach of the bar.  Actually, that is still my idea of outdoorsy, but alas, that is as likely to occur as it is to get my ass back into the 'pay the rent' shorts I wore while bartending in my 20's.

In an attempt to instill a deeper love for the outdoors in my kids without actually sleeping in a tent, I find I am constantly looking for ways to get outside other than playing at the park.

Yesterday was a dreary and rainy day. But the thought of having three kids cooped up inside the house for the entire day was about as appealing to me as, well, sleeping in a tent.  So I announced that we were going to embark on a puddle hunt, followed by the wildly popular worm hunt.

The kids were pumped to don their wellies and head outside.  We had a great time looking for puddles to splash in and closely investigating what was residing in those puddles (cue grossness, but I try to keep that to myself).  Puddle hunters these kids were.


We made a stop at some playground equipment too.  After a night of rain, all of the equipment was soaked.  This really only added to the velocity of which my kids would fly off the end of the slide.  Each time it was as if the slides spit them out, and each time the kids would yell out in pain as they hit and get back up to do it again.

On our way home, we switched from puddle hunting to worm hunting.  Again, gross, but I am hoping their love of discovery will overshadow my distaste for a lot of what nature has to offer.  They proved to be excellent worm hunters.


Dirty, wet and slimy, we headed home.  Thankfully Dirty Daddy was home to run a bath ahead of our arrival.      As we approached our front door, I was feeling pretty good about our adventure.  The kids had fun.  Clean, old fashioned fun.  No technology, no sugar, no tantrums.  I totally rock this Motherhood thing!  

As I stripped my kids down at the front door, Bug glanced over at Monkey.  Monkey has taken to wearing underwear over top of his diaper as potty training makes me want to gouge my eyes out has not yet been mastered.  Combine this with his love of Toy Story, and you will find the entire cast on his ass.  Now combine this with many turns on the slides that resulted in some pretty hard butt landings.  And add a little 3 1/2 year old logic and you get "Did you hurt your woody?  Can I put a bandaid on it?"

Pretty sure rocking Motherhood does not involve a 3 year old girl talking about woodies and bandaids in the same breath.  Meh, as if Dirty Mommy was up for the Mother of the Year Award anyways.




Tuesday, July 26, 2011

The Down Low, If You Get What I Mean


Okay, this is going to be the coles notes version because
In a nutshell (you'll see in a minute why I think that term is funny),
Dirty Daddy and I no longeragree on the number of kids we'd like to have.
He'd like to finish up our contribution to the world's population
and I'm thinking, meh, I could go again.
And not just because I'd like
to stop using the term


So, being as it is not my penis, Dirty Daddy is booked for a procedure on Friday.  But instead of 'procedure', I like to say

Needless to say, much discussion has surrounded this topic.  During one of these discussions, Dirty Daddy said he wasn't completely sure if he was done.  It was the only conversation he said this in but


 Thus, during another discussion Dirty Daddy agreed to a new deal while drunk and not entirely aware of what he was signing and that I think is win win.  We agreed to not cancel the procedure as we did previously (cue baby number 3) and to free lovin' it until then.  Let the chips fall where they may.  Or the sperm.  Or chips of sperm.  Whatever the case, I'm

feeling pretty good.  If all goes well, I will be hearing

and if it doesn't, well,







Wednesday, July 20, 2011

Dirty Gear



Outside of being dirty and making babies, what's a Mom to do?  

The Dirty Mommy Club is so excited, and by that I mean three shots of tequila and a smack on the ass excited, to introduce Dirty Mommy Club gear.

Wear it loud and wear it proud.  Because there is no shame in being dirty.

Cheers,
Stephanie aka Dirty Mommy


Sunday, July 17, 2011

In My Previous Life


In my previous life, I went to work a lot.

In my previous life, I thought the idea of a boob lift was laughable.

In my previous life, I colored my hair to cover the roots.

In my previous life, dinner was popcorn and vodka.


In my previous life, I worked out two hours each day.

In my previous life, I read magazines.

In my previous life, I had an awesome wardrobe.

In my previous life, a night out didn't start until 10pm.

In my previous life, I thought grocery stores were no place for kids.

In my previous life, I smoked. A lot. Of things.

In my previous life, my ass looked good.

In my previous life, I was up to date on world affairs.

In my previous life, my memory was a steel trap.

In my previous life, dinner was out more than in.

In my previous life, I believed in spanking.

In my previous life, I could leave the house without a bra.

In my previous life, a pedicure was a necessity.

In my previous life, I thought I knew what love was.

In my previous life, I wanted to be a CEO.

In my previous life, I never had tan lines.

In my previous life, I wore heels all the time.

In my previous life, I had no clue.


Stephanie aka Dirty Mommy


Thursday, July 14, 2011

Story Time

One of my very favorite sites has proven again why they are one of my very favorite sites.  Petit Eco Kids has introduced Story Time.  Story Time is a chance to share and learn about kids books we love.

I have long been a believer that readers are born in the laps of their parents.  Before I was Dirty Mommy, I was an English major who went on to become an English teacher.  Needless to say, I am a huge lover of books.  And I have tried to instill this in my kids as well.

A long time favorite of ours is Bark George.  A wonderfully illustrated fun story about a pup and his Mom.  It has simple language, making it great for toddlers, pre schoolers and first time readers.  This silly little story makes my kids giggle every time.  


Check out Bark George at your local library or book store.  And while you're there, see if you can pick a new favorite to share.  

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

Blasphemy and Other Funnies


Bug starts school in September.  She'll be 3 1/2 on her first day.  Such a momentous occasion for both a parent and a child.  Bug is my oldest babe, the one who made me a Mommy.  And now she'll be spending 3 days a week somewhere else.  Weird.  

We live within walking distance of 3 schools.  A Catholic elementary school, a public elementary school, and a French immersion elementary school. Bug will be attending the Catholic school, primarily for 3 reasons.  One, both Dirty Daddy and myself were raised Catholic, so we know what her education will entail. Two, the public school close by sucks.  And three, other than 'Voulez-vous coucher avec moi ce soir?', I don't know any other French.

Dirty Daddy and I aren't what you would call 'practicing' Catholics.  We use the Lord's name in vain, we covet most of what we see, we don't attend mass very often, and we may have had sex once that did not result in a child.  But with Bug starting school, I figured we better pull our socks up and start leading by example.  

One of the first things we did was introduce bedtime prayers.  Bug has pretty much mastered 'When I Lay Me Down to Sleep' and 'Hail Mary'.  I love this time with her each night as it's usually just the two of us, and she radiates such pride when she finishes saying her prayers without my help.  That and when we get to the God bless part, she always picks me.

Improving on my vocabulary choices has proven to be more difficult.  As my friend Nicole at The Mombshelter once said, my kids think Jesus Christ is some guy in traffic.  It has been difficult explaining to a 3 year old that Jesus Christ isn't a bad word in and of itself, only in certain contexts.  On more than one occasion I have heard Bug say to her 2 year old brother "Jesus Monkey, look at that mess".  Out of the mouth of babes.

On Sunday morning, after a leisurely breakfast mass, Dirty Daddy was working outside preparing our yard for the concrete patio we will be having poured.  I was cleaning up the kitchen when both the kids ran to the garden door to peer outside. Monkey started laughing and jumping, so I figured Dirty Daddy was making some funny faces at him, when Bug said "Holy Mother of God, Grandpa's here!".  I was stunned.  Her vocal expression, tone and context were immaculate (makes a certified English teacher proud).

I figure better to hear that than "Jesus Christ, Grandpa's here".

Cheers dirties,


Stephanie aka Dirty Mommy




Sunday, July 10, 2011

Boys Will Be...

I have two daughters and one son.  My daughters, Bug and Bean, are 3 1/2 and 4 months respectively. My son, Monkey, is 2. Monkey in the middle.

My oldest daughter is already head strong, opinionated, and adventurous.  She seems to have this inherent sense of confidence that I adore.  I much rather lock horns with her than have her be unsure of herself.

My youngest daughter is the happiest and easiest going of babies.  While all my babies were delights, Bean truly is the epitome of relaxed.  This child has had 3 crying fits in the 4 months she has been alive.  (Please, no hate mail from parents of collickly babes)  My daughters are on either end of the spectrum, but I have no worries that they will navigate the world according to their own terms.  I know that they will be smart, beautiful and strong women.

My son is inquisitive and loving with the most infectious laugh you have ever heard. He is a beautiful tow headed boy with eyes as blue as the ocean.  His dimpled smile will crack the hardest facade and I know it will serve him well in his life, getting him out of (and into) whatever he wants.

Why yes, all my children are remarkable (what, me biased?). And they have changed me and my perspectives forever.  When my first daughter was born, I remember thinking of all women as someone's daughter.  All of a sudden, every stripper, porn star, center fold, and call girl were no longer just girls making a living. These were daughters! Did their Mom's know?  Did their Dad's?  What about men their Dad's ages looking at them?  Men were dirty, dirty, dirty.  

And then I had a son.  A beautiful, bouncing baby boy.  Now, not being a man myself, the entire Mothering experience was different from the get go.  Circumcise, not circumcise?  How do you clean a penis covered in poop?  Do you aim the penis up or down when diapering?  How do you protect yourself from getting shot with pee?  I expected these questions when Monkey was born.  But there have been some changes I didn't expect.

We recently renovated our house.  When the renovation finished, our landscaping was a mess.  We have spent the past month designing and prepping our outside (okay, not really 'we', more Dirty Daddy prepping and me throwing in my 2 cents). What we couldn't do ourselves, we've hired out.  That mostly involves excavation and concrete.  So last week I had young, tanned, and toned shirtless men in my yard working and sweating.  Being Dirty Mommy, you'd think I would have locked the kids in their rooms, poured myself a cocktail and pulled up a seat to the window to watch the show.  And you'd be right, if this was 2008.  But sadly, and I mean sadly, this is no longer the case.

Because now I have a son, which means that these sweaty, strong guys are, you got it - someone's son!  I couldn't for the life of me muster up one tingling, one little pulse of sex.  But you know what I did muster up?
Thoughts like, his Mom must be so proud that he started his own company so young.  Wow, his manners are fantastic.  His Momma must be proud.  I should make them some lunch, they've been working so hard.

Yup, that's what I thought.  Pathetic I know.  No cat calls, booty comments, pec adoration.  Nothing!  All I could think is that these were someone's sons.  And that took the sexy part right out of it.

Dirty Mommy is so sad.  
Monday, July 4, 2011

A Public Service Announcement


Spending the majority of my life trying not to get knocked up, I was not schooled in much of what would happen to me during my pregnancy, labour, and delivery.  Of course, the minute I found out I was pregnant, I spent hours upon hours on the internet, in the book store, chatting with my girlfriends and at the library reading everything I could about the upcoming destruction of my body adventure.  

But when push came to shove (and push, and push, and push), there were some things that I didn't know.  Not that these things were a secret.  Everyone who has had a baby knows them.  But for some reason (okay, I know the reason, but I can't tell you yet), no one told me.  

So, as president of the Dirty Mommy Club, I have taken it upon myself to let you know about some of the events of childbirth and newborns that no one has probably told you.  Consider it a public service announcement.

1.  A pain in the ass.  This was my first big surprise during pregnancy.  Yup, hemorrhoids.  Not only will you gain 30+ pounds, have trouble bending over to pick up something you dropped, and drink Gaviscon right from the bottle (I liked mine chilled, shaken, not stirred), your ass will hurt.  

2.  Plug it up.  While you fight the physics of gravity off daily in your third trimester, its good to know that your mucus plug is in tact.  I'm sorry what?!  A plug of mucus? When I think of the word plug, I think of what holds the water in in my bath tub.  And when I think of the word mucus, I think of fat hairy men horking on the sidewalk.  Put them together and I'm officially grossed out.

3.  Au naturelle.  Every woman, upon finding out she's pregnant, has an idea of how she would like her delivery to go.  This is often called a birth plan.  When I was pregnant, I had a wonderful birth plan written up.  I had a copy to take to the hospital with me, a copy for my OB and a copy as a souvenir (as if the baby wasn't enough). These pages of course were shredded the moment labour actually started.  Many women wear the "I gave birth naturally" badge proudly (I was in labour for 427 hours, accepted no drugs, suffered fifty degree tears, and competed in a quadathalon 2 days later).  I quickly discovered this was not going to be me.  New birth plan - get this effing baby out of me asap with as little discomfort (aka epidural) as possible!

4.  Physical labour.  When I asked about what labour felt like when I was pregnant, I received a variety of answers.  Some stated they couldn't remember because they were overjoyed to welcome their new baby.  Some said they didn't remember because it was all such a blur.  Some said it was like really bad menstrual cramps. Well, I'm here to tell you it is the. most. painful. thing. you. will. ever. experience. Focus on my breathing?  Get the hell out of my face!  Rub my back?  Get your freaking hands off of me!  We're in this together baby?  Eff you!  You were in me and now I am stuck doing the work.  Imagine the most painful experience you can, multiply it by 84, then put it to the power of 3.  That's how much it hurts.  And maybe even a little more.

5.  After pains.  What a lovely way to end labour and delivery.  With more pain.  Fan-fucking-tastic!

Now you know.



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