The Greatest Gift on Mother's Day: To Be Left Alone

sleepdeprived.jpg

What does your perfect Mother's Day look like? If you could have any gift you want, what would it be? I'm sure I could list a bunch of materialistic shit like that Navy Chanel I believe belongs on my arm. Or those way overpriced but equally hot Aquazurra red Wild Thing sandals that would just look amazeballs on my pedicured feet. And what about that pave diamond owl necklace perfect for layering that my neck is just screaming for to symbolize what a wise woman and mommy I am? A girl can never have too much jewelry or bags or shoes and I am one of those girls. I own it. I know I can be spoiled and materialistic, but it's okay because I'm a nice, thoughtful person too and there is so much more to me than the stuff I like to wear. And I really don't want any of that stuff anyway. Do you know what I really want on Mother's Day? To be alone! I love you husband and son, but if you want to give me the best Mother's Day gift you could possibly think of, then go away--just for part of the day--together. Or send me away somewhere--like the spa. Sometimes this mommy just wants to, okay needs to be left alone. Does that make me a bitch? Maybe. Do I care? Absolutely not.

I've always thought that Mother's Day should be about what the mother wants to do. A few months back, I was talking to another mom friend about this upcoming Mother's Day and she was saying how she loves to be with her kids all day long. And I'm sitting across from her thinking about how I want to be away from mine and what's wrong with me that I don't have this deep desire to spend every waking minute that Sunday with my child. I mean, I get that on Mother's day you should spend time with the people you love and who have contributed to you becoming a mother. For me that would be my husband who put that baby inside me, thus making me a mother, and my son, because without him I wouldn't have anyone to be a mother to in the first place.

I'm not saying I don't want to spend anytime with these two important males in my life. Of course I do. I just don't want to spend the whole day with them. I want to spend a few hours with just me. I like me and I like spending time with her without interruption.

Don't tell me the thought of having a few hours to yourself with no one nagging you or needing you doesn't sound orgasmic? The things you could get done or even not get done--the nothing at all you could accomplish, the amount of times you could pee without anyone opening the door on you, the wine or beer you could drink in peace, the book you could curl up with and even finish, the tv show your spouse hates that you could binge watch, the new vibrator you could test (if that's your thing), the celebrity gossip you secretly indulge in that you could catch up on, the amount of Facebook or Instagram stalking you could do, or the sleep you could make up for. The possibilities are endless and amazing.

And they should all be available to us on Mother's Day because we put the Mother in Mother's Day. This day is about us and what we want to do or don't want to do. It's about celebrating motherhood from the times we get to snuggle and laugh with our little ones to the times we are stuck wiping their asses full of shit or stripping and putting them to bed while we are mostly naked because they just threw up all over us and we can't leave them sitting in vomit to go put our own fresh change of clothes on. It's about spending time with the people we love including just ourselves, and being allowed to tell our husbands we have a headache or are just too tired when they try to roll over on top of us at the end of the day (after we have made them feed, bathe, and put our kids to bed) because of course we did...it's Mother's day!

The Stages of Date Night for Parents of a 3 Year-Old Boy

Image-3-300x298-1.jpg
The Morning of Date Night: 
Mommy just has to make it through the morning routine--get tiny human dressed, fed, and dropped off at school. Then it's just pick up from school, nap time, and movie in Mommy's bed while she gets ready.  Should be easy and smooth sailing until tiny human's uncle picks up him up for a sleepover.
Mommy thinks maybe she will have the energy for some post-date night sex. Mommy makes mental note to remember to shave her legs and moisturize.
The Afternoon of Date Night:
4:00PM - Wake up from light nap
4:15PM - Slightly panic as I walk to get son from nap/quiet time because monitor shows
                he is not in his bed anymore.
4:16PM - Open door to see quiet time was not so quiet.
4:17PM - Silently scream and curse because son looks like a mime as his arms, face and
                hair are covered in white from a mix of cream from the sunscreen tube and
                moisturizer pump he took off his dresser.

 4:18PM - Look around to see that son has ripped the CD player out from the wall,
                dumped his books and CDs out of their bins, opened his child-proofed closet to
                take his cowboy boots out, and his expensive Stark rug is now grey check with
                large white patches from same combination of sunscreen and moisturizer.
4:18PM - Smell poop and glance left at changing table to notice a full diaper of shit that
                son has taken off his body. He is still wearing sweatpants and now cowboy
                boots.
4:19PM - Look over at son to see him smiling and wonder if I am raising a sociopath.
4:20PM - Wishing I could engage in the fun kind of 4-20 activities but realize I might not
                have time to shower and shave my legs for date night because I need to bathe
                my son and get all the shit and cream off his body.
4:21PM - Son makes sure to tell me not to forget to clean his cowboy boot covered in
                cream.
4:22PM - Son reminds me he is supposed  to watch a movie in my bed after his bath is
                done.
4:25PM - Get son in bath and decide that getting him cleaned up and having time to
                shower, shave, and get dressed in non-work out clothes is more important than
                cleaning the mess in son's room.
4:45PM - Place clean son in bed, put a movie on, and finally shower.
5:15PM - Change four times because nothing looks right. Son instructs me to close the
                bathroom door when I dry my hair so he can hear the movie.
Right before Date Night:
6:15PM - Answer phone call from Husband who is late. "Where are you? I need to leave
                NOW. Do you want to know what your son did this afternoon? Good, I'll tell you.
                I need to drink wine...NOW."
6:30PM - The dog starts barking which means Husband and Uncle are here. "Finally!
                Hallelujah!"
6:32PM - Tell Husband he needs to hurry up and change and welcome Uncle inside. "He's
                all yours!"
6:34PM - Son reminds Uncle he needs more toys at his house before they get there.
6:40PM - Look for but can't find son's favorite sippy cup of water to send with him.
6:50PM - Son leaves for the toy store with Uncle.
6:55PM - Mommy and Daddy leave for long anticipated date night.
Date Night:
Mommy and Daddy see Kevin Smith at The Comedy Zone.  He is fucking awesome and Mommy feels like his talk about creating and honest self-expression is meant specifically for her. Mommy has a glass of wine due to her son's earlier behavior but sticks to Whole30 eating and considers this a win.
Post Date Night Arrival at Home:
10:30PM - Do not cross go, do not go straight to the bedroom and rip each other's
                  clothes off.
10:32PM - Clean dog's three different puddles of pee in the kitchen.
10:35PM - Tag team son's room with husband and clean all poop, change his sheets and
                  changing table cover which are covered in poop, strip chair of slip cover also
                  covered in poop, and throw everything in washing machine.
10:50PM - Look at each other and immediately and mutually agree to pay someone to
                  clean the cream off the rug because we are too tired and have no idea where
                  to even begin.
10:52PM - Remember the cowboy boot covered in cream and clean it with baby wipes.
10:57PM - Force myself to remove eye make up and wash face before getting into bed.
11:05PM - Finally about to get into bed and find the missing sippy cup...in the bed
                  emptied of water and responsible for the currently soaked sheets and duvet
                  cover.
11:10PM - The only thing getting blown tonight are the wet sheets and duvet cover.
11:30PM - Lights off. Sleep is the new sex on this date night.
Last night was a bonus date night. Tuesday is our regular date night. Let's try this again...

If Campowerment Were the Oscars...I Would Like to Thank My Husband

177077_340-jpg.jpg

When I first launched my blog back in January, I made an agreement with my husband.  He knew I was writing but he wouldn’t try to find my blog or read any posts until I told him I was ready. I had always planned to talk to him about everything right before I decided to go public. He fully supported this. He wasn’t concerned. He didn’t ask questions. My close friends and sister? Not so much. If you know me, you know that there is no bullshit. No sugar-coating. Just open, honest truth. I’m not afraid to share, tell you how I feel, and I own my shit and who I am.  I always planned to bring this to my blog. As I started writing my truth about motherhood, marriage, and sex, in came the frantic text messages and phone calls from various friends and family members.

Does my husband know what I’m writing about? Does he know how I feel about our sex life? Do I talk to him about what I write for the world to read? Jen, are you okay? Jen, are you going to do something impulsive like have an affair or run away? Jen, should we be concerned? Jen, do we need to come down to the South for an intervention?

This is what I love about my friends and sister . They are real. They call me out on my stuff and they make me talk to them even if I don’t want to hear what they have to say because they are probably right. I’ve said it before—real friends talk shit to your face and say the good stuff behind your back.

And to answer those questions, no, my husband didn’t know what I was writing about, not at first. I am okay—great in fact, which I attribute to having this space to write my truth and express who I am with no apologies.  And I’m not going to have an affair or run away. I love my husband and our life even if I’m not in love with where we live.

But the fact still remained, I needed to come clean to my husband about the name of my blog, the meaning behind it, and that there were and would be posts that discussed private aspects of our relationship and lives.  And after almost two months of writing, I did talk to him and it was a relief.

The fact is, writing about all of this helps me, which in turn helps our relationship because I can make sense of my feelings in writing before I articulate them in conversation. Most times I talk to him about what these posts. Sometimes I don’t. He is allowed to read the blog anytime he wants to. It’s his choice and a decision we are both comfortable with.

And I’m pretty sure it helps others—because I know I’m not the only wife who sometimes wants to throat punch her husband after he does something stupid.  I'm not the only wife who has a different definition of foreplay than her husband. And I’m definitely not the only mom who has a love-hate relationship with being a mom or misses her life before children.  I just have the balls to say it. And I'm saying it because I want you to know you are perfectly normal and not alone.

Marriage is hard work. It’s not always perfect and needs to be nurtured and cared for. There will be dry spells, some days you’ll want rip your husband’s pants off and other days you’ll want to punch him in the face. If you tell me you are madly in love with your spouse all day every day and life is always perfect, well then I’m just going to say it---you are lying and full of shit. The same goes for motherhood. And it's okay!

I know my husband get this. He supports me and believes in my writing and I love him for it. I’m sure the lack of privacy makes him slightly uncomfortable, but I know he is looking the other way on it for me—because he sees what writing has done for my mind, body, and spirit. Writing is helping me forge my identity, which I have been so desperately in search of. And most importantly, he supports my desire to honestly put myself and my shit out there to help others who might not have the courage to, even if it’s at the expense of a little bit of privacy.

I did not start this blog to bash my husband. Will he annoy me and piss me off sometimes? Of course. Will I write about it? Hell yeah! But while I might complain about the dumb shit he does as a man, he is still an incredible husband and father.  It’s important for me to make that distinction here. We might need to spice up our sex life, but I know my husband would lay the world at my feet if he could.

I love and appreciate my husband, the man who had no issues with me leaving him for five days to go back to sleepaway camp. The man who wanted to discuss me signing up for camp, but didn’t get angry or upset when I informed him there would be no discussion—the credit card was charged and flights were booked! The man who already knew without me telling him that I would be going back to Campowerment this September and probably every time after that.

The man who when I texted from camp to tell him that I won color war and my apache relay activity was bug juice flip cup, he responded by saying, “I expect no less.”  The man who put me up in a luxury hotel after camp so I could reflect and decompress and unpack all my emotions before returning to reality as a mom and wife. The man who I know will do whatever he can to help me be me, the person I revealed myself to be this past weekend at camp. The man who loves our son, cared for him and held down the fort while I was away. The man I can’t wait to share with all I learned, and did, and became while I away at camp.

So husband, I can’t say thank you enough—for your love and support and belief in me. And for letting me do what I need to do to be my best self—as they called me at camp—a  ROCKSTAR!

And just as an added bonus, there will be a large box of goodies from Freda’s Campowerment Passion Party waiting for you when you get home from your business trip. As for what’s inside? I will leave that to all of your imaginations. And if you’re really lucky, maybe there will be a toy review on the blog in the near future. I’ll need some liquid courage before I post that one!

Make sure you check back in the next couple of days for my upcoming post about the magic that is Campowerment and why you should run, not walk to this incredible, life-changing place.

Thoughts on Valentines Day...

MjAxNC03NWQ3MjA3ZDEyYjkwYTJk.png

Valentines Day is so different when you have been with the same man for over 12 years (married for seven). I remember the first time I went to visit him at school. We were newly dating and it happened to be Valentines Day. Oh the pressure! Do I get him a gift? Do we even acknowledge it's Valentines Day? Is he going to get me anything? If he does, is he into this more than I am? If he doesn't maybe he’s not into this at all? It turned out to be the perfect Valentines Day for a new couple. We had dinner as if it was any other night, but when we got back to his apartment, he surprised me with homemade molten chocolate cakes. Um, a guy who not only cooks, but can make his own molten lava cake? I probably knew I was going to marry him right then.

I’ve always hated Valentines Day. I never had a proper Valentine. I swear I was jinxed by my 8th grade boyfriend. We will just call him asshole. Asshole dumped me the night before Vday when I was in 8th grade. And to make it even worse, my so-called best friend knew it was going to happen, went with me to buy him cards and a gift, and didn't tell me. What a bitch! And what an asshole! Who dumps his girlfriend the night before Valentines Day? I had already picked out my outfit. It was going to be my first real Valentines Day. Of course my life was over. I couldn't show my face at school the next day. My mom made me go anyway and I hated her for 48 hours.

Once I got to college, Valentines Day became Galentines Day. There was the year my single girlfriends and I bought 10 pints of ice cream and 10 spoons, passed them around and watched chick flicks all night. And lets not forget the year my sorority sisters and I made pot brownies at the house using the toaster oven in the basement. Good times! Amazing times!

Once I started dating my husband, I loved Valentines Day. I finally had a Valentine! What fabulous place would he be taking me for dinner? What creative gift would he get me? What sexy gift could I give him?

Now, Vday is just like any other day. We always do cards, but don't always do gifts. Sometimes we set a $25 limit to see how creative we can be at that budget. We've stopped going out to dinner. All the restaurants here do a set menu and jack up the prices. These are all restaurants we go to regularly and it makes us angry. What can I say, we are food snobs!

When you're a mom, what you want for Valentines Day completely changes. My toddler stayed quiet in his room until 7:45 this morning...the best gift he could have given me. I actually had the time to shower and dry my hair in peace. We went food shopping which I’m so happy about because it means I don't have any errands to do tomorrow. I got to binge watch three episodes of a show while my husband entertained our toddler. And our toddler went to bed without a fight and without any tears. No “one more book.” No screaming. No negotiating. A perfect day!

I wasn't planning on blogging today. But I've been thinking a lot about my week and I just had to write my thoughts down. When I posted my last blog, four of my closest friends freaked out. They all agreed I need to communicate my feelings to my husband. I agree. And I will…in my own time. That time is coming very soon. I promised them and I meant it. They wanted to make sure I wasn't going to do anything impulsive or stupid like run away or have an affair. I reassured them that while yes, I'm going through a bit of a midlife crisis, I won't do either of those things. They worried about my husband's feelings and what he would think about the fact that I put our sex life out there for the masses to read. Well, I think I only have about 10 readers and I think he will have to learn to be okay with it...because writing my truth has become my everything, my life line. I think he will understand, eventually.

Earlier this week, my husband and I attended the funeral of a close friend's father. He had been sick for a long time, but that doesn't make losing a loved one any easier. At the funeral, crying while our friend broke down reading a eulogy for his dad, my husband held my hand. He held my hand when we left temple, arrived at the cemetery, and watched as they lowered the coffin into the ground. He held my hand the next night when we went back to temple for Shiva. He always holds my hand.

The next night he made me hard-boiled eggs, steak, and chicken so I could have a few protein days. He was in the kitchen way past our bed time. Yesterday afternoon, he let me nap for two hours because he knew I was crashing. While I slept, he emptied the dishwasher and put all the groceries away. Last night he made my dinner smoothie. I didn't ask him to do any of this. The point is, he is a good man and even though I'm going through a mid life crisis about motherhood, marriage, and sex, I'm not going anywhere. I do plan to talk to him honestly and openly about all of this when I'm ready and I'm getting more and more ready by the day. And I'm hopeful that this experience will just help us grow together as I figure all my shit out.

And maybe that's why Valentines Day isn't a big deal when you have been with your person for years. Because in a way, it's just like any other day. My husband doesn't need a holiday to do the things he does everyday. He did get me two beautiful orchids and lots of cards and I'm pretty sure he ordered the pajamas I've been wanting. He told me not to get him a gift. But I did anyway. A tin of heart shaped Nestle crunch bars (his favorite chocolate)...and a blow job. Okay, maybe Vday isn't necessarily like every other day. He doesn't get a blowjob everyday!

Happy Valentines Day to all!

New 2016 Goal: Be Jenna Dewan Tatum

OMG! Holy fuck! You need to watch the above clip from Celebrity Lip Sync Battle where Jenna Dewan-Tatum competes against her gorgeous husband, Channing Tatum. She performs Pony, as in Channing’s beyond sexy, stripper dance routine from MAGIC MIKE XXL. Holy hotness! I think she might be hotter than him! I have a new girl crush and it’s Jenna and her abs and her moves. Um why can’t I dance like that? Don’t you think that Jenna and Tatum have the hottest, craziest sex? Well that’s what I would like to think! And if I’m being honest, I’m incredibly jealous. So my new 2016 goal? Be Jenna Dewan-Tatum! Here is a list of everything I will need to do to accomplish this goal.

1. Lose a shit-ton of weight 2. Stop eating food 3. Stop drinking wine or alcohol of any kind 4. Move into the gym 5. Take A LOT of Pilates 6. Sign up for hip hop lessons 7. Sign up for stripper lessons 8. Sign up for pole dancing classes 9. Stop eating food 10. Have more sex

As the mom of an almost three-year-old, it shouldn’t be too difficult. I will keep you updated on my progress!