Families can be complicated. We love them, but they can drive us crazy sometimes/often/always. It’s nice to take solace in a Netflix marathon of families that make your family look relatively normal in comparison to whatever drama you’re currently dealing with. These are some great options if you are trying to get over the family get together blues:
I love to travel, but occasionally I have to stay home. When I get the travel itch and I don’t have any trips planned, I know I can always retreat to my Netflix flicks and find a new adventure. These are a few of my favourites to pass the time until I get the next stamp on my passport:
Well, hello there.
I have to say, it’s thrilling to finally meet you. More to the point: it’s thrilling to finally narrate one of these stories! I’m lucky to be getting away with it, I suppose, but then, Anastasia’s been busy lately, hasn’t she? What with the kids and the marital demands – and I do mean demands – there isn’t much time to pay attention to her once-ubiquitous Inner Goddess. Not that I’ve been bothered by my newfound freedom. On the contrary, I’ve enjoyed it quite a bit. You could say I’ve come into my own.
When I was fifteen years old I met my future husband at band camp. We were married five years later and as we approach our 20th anniversary (yes—you mommy math whizzes—that makes me 40), and I prepare to send my own kids to camp, I find myself reminiscing about that momentous summer. And being pretty freaked out about what my kids are about to do.
Like many parents, as I read about how Rio De Janeiro has been preparing for the 2016 Summer Olympic Games, I can’t help but think of my children.
Their dreams, yes. Their aspirations and opportunities, of course. But more specifically, as I find myself staring at a photo of Guanabara Bay, which bbc.com captioned a “stinking mass of sewage, household rubbish and industrial pollutants,” and depicts a Disney backpack floating among piles of fabric and filth and plastic things that I do not recognize—I see a very strong similarity to their bedrooms.
In fact, as I drink my coffee from a mug that has “World’s Gre test om” lovingly inscribed on the side, by a company that hawks them to school children at book fairs across the country, I realize that there are many crossovers between the Olympics and raising children. Except that with parenting, no-one really goes home with the gold.
So it’s National Lipstick Day, which really just means that some of the style magazines I follow on Facebook are posting pics of beautiful models with gorgeous lips done up in the decadent shades of the summer. When suddenly I realized that I haven’t worn lipstick for a really, really long time. And here’s why…
Lipstick doesn’t go with baby barf
I figure, if I don’t have time to wash chunks of baby food out of my hair, and if, let’s be honest, I haven’t even noticed that there’s a poo smudge on my forearm, I probably don’t have the wherewithal to apply lipstick on my mouth to look more beautiful.
I did not want to get up this morning. My hand shot out from under the sheets to slap my alarm with lightning fast reflexes while the rest of me grumbled and groaned, pleading with the universe for just five more minutes. I wrestled with the snooze button a few more times before I finally dragged myself out of the bed. As soon as my feet hit the floor, my dog hopped up, literally wiggling with joy, and ran to the door; ready to start her day. She ran outside and stood for a moment, breathing in the cool, crisp air. I watched her bounce through the grass, eager to do her business then come back inside. She trotted in and ran right to me, pushing her body into mine so I would scratch her behind her ear–her favourite spot. Putting breakfast into her bowl, she gulped it down, not leaving a single crumb, not worried about calories.
Suddenly I realized–she is happy all the time. She doesn’t mope if she doesn’t get her way, she doesn’t pout or whine. She isn’t constantly looking for more, she is content the way she is. It hit me: maybe dogs also figure out life seven times faster than we do.
Motherhood is a lot of things—some beautiful, some awful, and some really, really gross. So many bodily fluids that need tending to, so many smells…who knew that peeing on that little stick would be practice for all the years we’d be elbow deep in the sludge of motherhood? But moms are soldiers—we handle the grit and grim with aplomb. So let’s own it, shall we? Let’s pull back the curtain on the gross things we all do and nod our heads in solidarity.
Some time in my twenties my metabolism abandoned me. My nightly bowl of ice cream started clinging to my hips and it only got worse after having a few kids. It became obvious that my fitness regimen was failing—largely, because I didn’t have a fitness regimen. I knew that if I wanted to keep my waistline in check, I would need to get fit quick or stop eating so many cupcakes. And let’s be real—I wasn’t giving up cupcakes.