Friday, April 26, 2013

Raising Boys


I like to call this series of photos “Raising Boys”:

 







My youngest son has eczema, but he’s found a much better use for the tubs of Vaseline that we use to help treat it.  He was actually mad at me after he did this because, well, because his train, patient, and rescue worker were stuck in tubs of Vaseline, and obviously it was my fault.

 

But don’t worry, my peeps, because I’ve got this raising boys thing totally covered.  I don’t know if you know this, but from the time I was 14, my 4 siblings and I were raised by only my dad—who just so happens to be a boy, and who taught me many lessons that I can pass on to my own boys.

 

I know what you’re thinking (Mom):  Fourteen years old?  Why, that’s only 4 years away from being an adult.  That’s not THAT long to be raised by just your father.  How much could you have possibly learned?

 

A ton, my peeps.  A TON.

 

For example, have you ever wondered which surfaces best amplify the sound of your farts?  Well, I hadn’t either, actually, but my dad—he knew that someday I’d want to know.  So he taught me. 

 

The winner?  Wood. 


It’s a great party trick anytime you’re at an apartment, house, or a bar with wooden barstools.  Granted, it won’t gain you any friends—in fact, it’ll strip you of any dignity or self-respect you might have had, along with any chance of making new friends.  But what it will earn you is a gentleman caller—if you’re not choosy.

 

You’ll also keep all of your old friends, not because they’re loyal, but because there’s got to be a dumbass in every group to make the others look better.  And guess what? After this party trick—you’ll be that dumbass.

 

LESSON LEARNED FROM DAD THAT I CAN PASS ALONG TO MY BOYS:  If you see someone you’re interested in across the room, fart really hard on a wooden barstool.  It won’t get you the girl, but you might pull the one next to her holding the French horn.

 

The next lesson wasn’t necessarily passed on to me by my dad, but it was an indirect result of him being a single father, so I’m going to pin it on him.

 

I was a late bloomer in many things, including the proper methods to use—methods that do not include farting on barstools—to pick up guys.  (Thanks a lot, Dad…assclown.) 

 

Anyhoo, by the time I got my period at age 14, Mom had already hightailed it the eff out of our house with a new boyfriend in a tiny white Rabbit.  On a side note, I’m not even sure how they both fit into that little clown car, what with his humongous girth and that plastic Christmas tree he insisted on hauling from one-bedroom apartment to one-bedroom apartment.  (No Christmas Tree Left Behind, bitches.)  But they managed.

 

Please don’t mistake that last paragraph for bitterness, because I’m totally not bitter. Mom actually took one for the team by hooking up with her new mister and getting the eff out of town for a little while.  At least she didn’t line the five of us kids up to smack our faces in one fell swoop, which is a dream she told me about later that she figured signaled the beginnings of a mental breakdown if she didn't act fast enough.  Is that not hilarious?  I mean, in a 20-years-later kind of way.

 

But seriously, I was mad for about five minutes (C’mon, I could have five minutes, right?  He carried around a Christmas tree in a Rabbit!), but my whole family has a great relationship now.  In fact, we’re pretty sure Mom and Dad—who have been divorced since the Rabbit incident almost 22 years ago—still do it on birthdays and most major holidays.  Of course, that hasn’t been proven, thank the Good Lord in Heaven for the sweet blessings He pours upon us from above…because we certainly don’t need that image boring a hole in our brains, now do we?

 

Anyway, by the time I got my periodista (which is reporter in Spanish, but not on this blog), I was like 32 (or 14) and Dad was at work.  I had to turn to my older sister, who was a total snatch, for help.

 

I remember it well:  With a huge smirk as she explained the problem over the phone to her boyfriend who also went to our high school, had a huge mouth, and was on the football team (See??  Snatch!), she threw me a dishrag, a rubber band, and a pair of flowered granny panties and told me to figure it out.

 

I wore rag diapers until I was 23 years old and my roommate caught me stealing all of the dishrags from the kitchen drawer and made me ‘fess up.  Sometimes God just sends angels your way to make everything alright. 

 

My angel?  She was a boisterous redhead named Christy who showed me the beauty of a tampon.

 

LESSON LEARNED SORT OF FROM  MY DAD THAT I CAN PASS ALONG TO MY BOYS:  Be happy you don’t have an older sister or a period.  They’re awful.

 

I do believe, my peeps, that I’m all set. 

24 comments:

  1. Yay for Christy! The other women in this story don't fair so well in my book. But it sounds like it all worked out in the end. I love a happy ending!

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    1. Oh, yes, it all worked out. I exaggerate how awful my sister was. We fought like any siblings do, but in my last blog, I exaggerated so much from my point of view that her character took on a life of its own, and family, friends, and readers really responded to that. It got a lot of laughs. :) She doesn't mind, even though when people read, they're like, "WHAT?!" But I love her to death, and she might have been a little softer and more understanding than what I portrayed here--even though she DID tell her boyfriend when I came to ask her for help. :) And my mom--we had some rough years, but we all came through alive and more understanding of each other, and she's more than made up for hightailing it the eff out of town. She didn't get far--only moved about 10 minutes away, and we saw her quite a bit, actually. And now she is such a great grandma to her grandbabies. All part of life is the way we see it--stuff happens; it's just how you choose to react to it, and we all chose to move on and love each other despite it all.

      Is that WAY too sappy for this blog?? ;)

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  2. Always funny - all of it! ...but the Spanish translation comment was my favorite. Haha. I'm laughing like an idiot and I'm sure that wasn't even supposed to be the funniest part of your post!

    Ever tried farting on a closed bedroom door? No??? I'm sure if you ask nicely, my older brothers will show you how it's done. That's a pretty nice party trick, too - as long as you don't mind leaving that party by yourself with less friends than you had at the beginning of the night...

    Try it!

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    1. Katie, I am seriously DYING over here. I called Dad and read him your comment and could hardly get through the "farting on a closed bedroom door" part. I'm shaking with laughter while trying to even type that phrase! I can SO see your stupid brothers doing that. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE guest post for me one of these days--they'll never even know. I'll bet they're like my little sister and don't even know HOW to read. Haha

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  3. Looks like you survived just fine- and your own boys probably love you more because of it!

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  4. Bahahaha! I did not know that about farts and wood. And while I'm thrilled I have a girl and get to skip out on these life lessons, I will not envy my husband when our cycles synch and we are mega bitches together. Then again, it'll be kind of fun to watch. HA!

    Thanks for the laughs!!!!

    xo

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    1. Hey, I'm always here to teach you new things that are TOTALLY useful in life, Dani...haha. I was just over at your place commenting! Don't you wish we could just "stop by" in real life? With wine, of course. :)

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  5. Hi :) Just stopping by to let you know that I nominated you for a Liebster Award :) Have a great weekend!

    Celena
    http://mystayathomemamalife.blogspot.com/2013/04/i-was-nominated-for-liebster-award.html

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    1. Aw, thank you so much!! I will be sure to top by your blog this weekend to read your Liebster post!

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  6. Sometimes I think I'm that Dumbass. Let's bond over that too, k?

    Ha! I love that James is all lubed for the shed!

    Oh man, I've got a little tampon story but damn it, I have to save it for a post next week...a TMI post which will humiliate my mother. Can't wait for that phone call.

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    1. I always tune in, but now I'll be even more excited! Although I'm not sure what could top origami penises (peni?). But whatever it is, I know it'll be funny if it's written by you!

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  7. LOL! I was such a tomboy growing up (still am). The only "girl" thing I learned from my mom was the whole period thing. My school friends taught me about make up and shaving my legs (UGH). I'd rather be fishing. Great post and I love your way of telling a story! I had to steal your button. :D

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    1. Oh my gosh, thank you SO much!! I'll be following your blog, too!

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  8. Holy shit I had to come down here to say that I was raised by my dad with 2 brothers at 14. Ok going back up to read the rest. Did your brothers teach you to hold a fart in your hand and release it later????
    And OMG to the freaking tampon thing. Me? I was too embarrassed to ask my dad to buy me tampons so I made my own out of toilet paper and dental floss. For real. I did that. I'm a stupid asshole.
    And I should write a blog post about that shit already. So thanks. Maybe.

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    1. No way, Kristi!! I love having been raised by my dad. Dads just have a way of making everything seem manageable, like, big deal, dude, get over it! That's not to say he didn't care about our feelings, because he did. He was just teaching us how to deal with life in a much more manageable way, a way that worked so well for my siblings and me. Much less drama!
      Yes--write a post about those things! I'd love to read it! It seems like we have a lot in common, which means you must be really awesome, too. :)

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    2. Um which means YOU must be really awesome. And my dad is WAY better than my mom about teaching us to deal with life. My mom? Taught me to deal with the fact that she dated dudes who were friends with my high school boyfriends. Because hello same age.
      And wow. I found my soul sister.

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    3. Aw, soul sistas!! I love it!

      Do you read Kim's blog at www.oneclassymotha.com and Dani's blog at www.cloudywithachanceofwine.com? You would love them, too. I'm going to have to give them your link unless they've already been checking in with you. I just love all of my cyberpeeps--you girls are such a freaking blast!

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  9. I am dying over the Vaseline pics! The worst mess we've ever had was centered around Vaseline--THE BANE OF MY EXISTENCE!

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  10. I live in a house with 2 males now that the girls moved out and the oldest son is on his own. What the hell is up with the long pooping sessions? I never got that. My own Dad didn't even indulge in that shit (lame joke). We have 2 bathrooms and they hog both of them--leaving the house smelling like a woolly mammoth died in it weeks ago. Despite your mom leaving, it sounds as if your dad did a great job. Funny ass post as always---left me with a big ol' smile!

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    1. Thank you! The same happens with all of your posts. You just make me smile! I would love to blame the woolly mammoth on the boys of my house, but dammit, Meno Mama, I am GASSY, so I'm at fault there, too. Haha!

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