Vodka, anyone?

Vodka, anyone?

stron drink

I love this meme.

It’s basically the truest meme that could describe my life.

Guys, I don’t come from a line of frail little docile women.


I come from tiny, strong, independent, don’t fuck with me, kinda women going all the way back to my great grandmothers- at least! I never met my great great grandmothers, but I imagine the others came from similar strong women. And by the way, this isn’t one-sided. It runs on both side of my family. I’m like a double dose of fierce, which makes me one dose of awesome sassafras sauce. And my 7-year-old daughter…….well, she’s like a tiny Chelsea Handler with a taste of Mariah Carey. It’s frightening.

Today, we went on a play date with some friends at McDonald’s and the first thing out of her mouth when I open my purse to pay for her imitation chicken and high fructose soda nectar is, “MOM! I know what the thing is in your purse. It’s called a TAMPON!” (echo: TAMPON! TAMPON! TAMPON!).

*Um, yeah. Ok, smarty pants. You caught me. I have a tampon in my purse. (frantically throws debit card in the purse and ushers kids to the fizzy fructose fountain of diabetes.)*

Later, we find ourselves sitting at the table when she sees a little girl walk in. She walks up to me and whispers in my ear,

“Mom, I know that girl coming in. She goes to my school and she is sooooo annoying.”

So, I give her the whole kindness speech and remind her to treat her like she would a friend, and blah, blah, blah, blah….

You know what?

The girl WAS annoying as all hell! Seriously, my daughter nailed that one on the head, but she treated her kindly and I was very proud of her for including her in play.

Hours laterΒ  Shortly after, a couple of boys walked in. It took about 30 seconds for her to come running back up to me to let me know,


Of course, she would say that at the top of her lungs next to the kids dad. Of course! So, I calmly tell her to relax and that she just continue to play and not worry about it. After a few minutes, I ask my kids to gather their things and put their shoes on so we can go home.

That’s when this kid starts yelling from the equipment, “Poopy pants, butt face! Pffffffft!!”

“DO YOU SEE WHAT I MEAN! THAT KID IS RUDE!!!” *waves hands in the air

OH MY GOSH, you guys…..I had to hold in the laughter. But, I asked her to please lower her voice and get her shoes on quickly and off we went to the car. It was in those 30 seconds to the car that I started going into over-thinking drive.

There is no manual for raising kids, as you know. I feel right now like we are in this grey area of weird parenting societal rules. Weird, in that you want to show your kids how to be independent, but not too independent because they are still kids and they need guidance. You want to raise your girls to be strong, but not too strong, because then they can come across as bitchy or brass. Kids need learn how to resolve conflict on their own, unless they are bothering others, and then you need to interfere. You want your girls to be able to say what they mean, but don’t raise your voice, just use a medium firm tone, blah, blah, blah….

Then I thought about a situation when I was at a bar last year with a friend of mine. A man I had been chatting with actually walked up behind me at the bar and grabbed my ass. I very firmly let him know that it was inappropriate and unacceptable and not to touch ANYΒ woman like that ever again. Ok, I wasn’t firm, I was a bitch. And, I said those words with much less class than I am describing now. My my point is that if my daughter were in that situation, I would definitely want her to handle it exactly the way I did.

So, we got in the car and she was still complaining about this kid, and I said, “Yeah, you’re right. He was an ass.”

You know what she said? She said,

“Mom, what’s a tampon?”


2 thoughts on “Vodka, anyone?

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