Mom Confessions

Well, no surprise. I have my ups and downs and the last two weeks have been really, really low.

We moved to a new development in October and ever since then, I feel like this horrible mom. Two out of three of my kids hate the fact that we had to move despite that the new neighborhood is better and there are more kids to play with that are a million times nicer.

One of the issues is there are literally no girls my daughter’s age. The neighborhood is filled with boys- which is great for my sons.

And even though the neighborhood is filled with these great kids, two of my kids crave to go back to the old neighborhood, especially my daughter. Her best friend lives there and when we moved she started off seeing the other little girl a few times a month but now it seems like it doesn’t happen as much. My other son still gets invited over to the old neighborhood pretty regularly and then that leaves my daughter out.

I just can’t take the questions and the ‘reprimands,’ if you can call it that, from her. She is constantly upset that we moved and my heart breaks for her that she doesn’t have one girl to play with. She is always saying how she wished we never moved and how she just wishes that there was another little girl who wanted to play Barbies with her.

And in writing all this, I just have to say that it kills me and makes me question my decisions. I know if I don’t let my emotions get the best of me that our move was better for our family- bigger house for them to grow up in, nicer neighborhood, better people, nicer kids and no bullying like the other place. But then there is just the comments that break my heart, the, ‘I wish I had friends,’ ‘I wish that I could play with someone,’ ‘I just want a friend to play Barbies with.’ My heart literally breaks for her. When I tell her I’ll be her friend she tells me that I’m her best friend but she wants someone her age as well.

Either way, I am broken. The new house doesn’t have all the same things that the old house did. They are missing toys and friends and I just don’t know what to do.

I feel like I suck as a parent. I am just hitting the bottom of the barrel and I am hitting hard. I want to be the mom that they can depend on and one that is going to make the best decisions for them but most of the times, kids don’t see the best in the situation. And unfortunately I don’t have enough therapeutic skills not to blame myself.

Until next time,

Do any little girls want to be our neighbor? Liking Barbies is the only requirement.

Next Time, Shut the Door.

I gave my son the sex talk last summer and I don’t think I did it right because he walked in on my husband and I having sex and this was that conversation.

‘Uh, what are you doing?’ -son

‘We are wrestling’ -me

‘Oh ok! Who’s winning?’ -son

‘I am’ -my husband

Here are his top five questions he had and I would have hoped that I explained sex well enough but clearly didn’t because he was so oblivious that night.

1) So do you have to be naked?

2) Can’t you have sex through the little hole in your underwear?

3) You have three kids so you only had sex three times, right?

4) My penis goes into what?

5) That’s how babies are made?

And then his questions just progressively became panic…

6) I am never having kids!

7) I’m never going to look at daddy and you the same way ever again.

8) You CAN’T tell my brother and sister about this. Ever.

9) I’m literally scarred for life.

10) Oh my God, my eyes! I’m never going to unsee this.

Thank God the kid was so unaware because he would have had a complete mental breakdown if he realized we were having sex. And having sex for fun. I mean, it was only our fourth time having sex so…

Until next time,

I only covered the basics. I am saving oral sex for a rainy day.

I Don’t Need a Wingman…

So last weekend I went out to a bar with some neighbor friends. It was like the second time my husband, Joe, and I have been out post covid, so of course I tried to drink the whole bar because I had to make up for lost time. And when I mean tried, I really mean I did.

So I am several Jack and Cokes deep and apparently I played the claw game and kept winning random people rubber ducks. I am pretty damn good at the claw game so I won a lot and made a lot of new friends.

I happen to live in a college town and I started talking to some college girls. I won them a duck for their apartment and they offered to babysit my children. We were bonding for Godsakes.

Fast forward to my evening walk tonight with my husband. Joe starts making fun of me that I made friends with people I didn’t know. And then I said, that I was able to talk to two lovely, beautiful ladies and I got their digits, and they got mine and they texted me the next day to show me their duck on display in their apartment.

So I figured out that there is a double standard because here is Joe making fun of how I got two random girl’s numbers and if it was him, he would be bragging that he got some girl’s number.

And that’s the double standard for men and women. If I get the digits, I’m fucking weird but if my husband gets the digits, he would be the man.

So the bottom line is that I got more game than him, I am a master of the claw game and I can make friends anywhere I go.

I clearly don’t need a wingman because I’m clearly the woMAN. Lock up your ladies, boys.

Until next time,

Duck, duck, duck, I’m the shit.