Mom FAIL

By Tonia

"If evolution really works, how come mothers only have two hands?" – Milton Berle

I never duct taped my kids to the wall, put them on leashes, or held them upside down off a balcony, but I certainly had my share of Mom Fails. I mean, I really tried to be a good mother, but there were THREE of them and only ONE of me. Something had to give.

So I may have let one of them eat cat food; and I may have let another one eat dirt.......and I can't bring myself to say what the third one ate.

I might have run out of cloth diapers and used my ex-husband’s shirt as a baby pee-pee absorber. I might have been in my nightgown when I took them to school and ran out of gas on the way. And I might have forgotten to pick one of them up after school once ….. uh, OK, twice.

And, yes, I may have let Anna believe that some of Rachel’s baby pictures were hers. And I might have laughed when Josh used the Barbie dolls for BB practice. And I could have told one of them that I only gave birth to her to be my personal slave. And ….. well, I may have said that I took up gardening to hide the dead bodies of my other disobedient children. Geez. Everyone is such a critic!

I made sacrifices, you know! All those nights with a sleeping baby on my chest when I soooo needed to pee. All those shopping trips with teenage girls who wouldn’t make up their minds which swim suit to buy. And all those years of body fluids. OMG, the body fluids. You know the ones – pee, poop, snot, vomit, breast milk. I’ve worn them all  – in both genders!

So, as Mothers Day approaches, I wanted to come clean – and give other mothers permission to let go of perfection. The parenting literature talks about the "good enough mother" - not the "do-it-all-perfectly-or-your-kids-will-be-fucked-up-forever mother." And I can attest to that. Despite me, all three of my kids turned out to be delightful adults. Two of them are even on this blog. 

SO, for your next girlfriends’ get together, those of you who are moms may want to play our Bad Mom Bingo. It'll make you feel better! Happy Mom's Day!

Who Arted

By Tonia

Three girlfriends and I recently attended a Vino van Gogh evening of wine and painting. I knew I had no artistic abilities when I made the reservation but, hey, there was wine! And I hoped that the more I drank the better my painting would look.

You see, my artistic ineptitude began a long time ago…..

MY MOM, “Honey, that is the most beautiful house I’ve ever seen!”
ME: “It’s a blueberry pancake.”

            and

MY MOM, “Oh, Sweetie, your doggie is adorable!”
ME: “It’s another blueberry pancake, Mom.”

My only other art experiences have been painting by numbers, finger writing on dirty cars, penciling in mustaches on photos, and drawing dirty pictures inside bathroom stalls. The public graffiti I’m not admitting to.

So our evening began with our friendly resident artist assuring us that there were no mistakes (ahhahaha!). She patiently (did I say how patient she was?) led us step by step through a water lily painting. And, despite her excellent warning to be sure to dip our paint brushes in our water glasses and not our wine glasses, my unruly paintbrush found its way into my wine glass. Bastard brush!

So we drank and painted away and I was amazed that my water lilies didn’t turn out looking like blueberry pancakes! We had a fabulous time and I highly recommend Vino van Gogh for your next girlfriends’ outing. (Click HERE for their website.) In fact, I’m feeling so confident now in my artistic abilities that I think I’ll go draw myself a boyfriend……

Posing on the Pole

By Tonia

I’ve been hearing how pole dancing is such great exercise. It’s endorsed as a performing art and there’s been talk about adding it to the Olympics. It's also a popular stage performance at….uh….a certain kind of club.

So I decided to try it. Why not? Ya gotta’ love a sport where the gym shoes are high heels! Besides, I needed some new blog material.So I invited twelve girlfriends and booked a pole dancing party at Tulsa’s Studio 7.

But first, let me say, I am NOT a coordinated person. Bruises mysteriously pop up on my body like zits on a teenager’s face. I walk into door frames; I fall walking on flat surfaces; I break things by simply carrying them. Growing up, sports were out of the question for me. My high school couldn’t afford the liability payments. And PE was my own personal hell - detention was less of a punishment.

But what could go wrong with pole dancing? I mean, you’ve got a pole to hang onto, right? Kind of like the safety bar in the bathtub. Just hang on and step safely.

The first part of our lesson wasn’t even on a pole – it was a lesson in lap dancing. Seriously? I love my girlfriends but this took on a whole new meaning.

Some places in the US enforce a minimum distance between lap dancer and lap dance-receiver but, with my coordination, I was bumping and jarring my partner the entire time. If penalty flags had been dropped, there would have been no floor space.

So we moved quickly to the poles. Some of the moves we learned were:

THE BODY WAVE. You straddle the pole and push your chest forward onto the pole and your hips away from the pole; then you move your chest back and your hips forward in one fluid motion. Uh, my back and forth movements pretty much looked like I was trying to dry hump the pole.

THE BACKWARDS WIGGLE. You stand with your back against the pole and reach up behind your head to grab the pole with your hand. You slide down the pole with a sexy wiggle until you are crouching with your knees apart. Then you’re supposed to go back up the pole. Getting down worked OK but getting back up was a NO GO. I finally just decided to have a seat on the floor and do my nails while the others were wiggling up and down their damn poles.

THE FIREMAN SPIN* (*no firemen were harmed in the performing of this move). You wrap your legs around the pole and give yourself a spin. And, if you’re lucky, you don’t throw up on your way around.

At the end of our evening, our instructor did a fabulous demonstration of her skills and then let me copy her upside down move. I think I nailed it (see pic).

So, for your next girlfriends’ get together I highly recommend a pole dancing party. It's great exercise and good for some laughs. I think I'm going to go back (if they'll let me)!

Just Say NO

by Tonia

"The Ukraine girls really knock me out..." - Beatles (Back in the USSR)

In the news: Ukrainian women are just saying “No” (or “Nyet”) to doing the deed with Russian men. It’s a protest to Russia’s takeover of Crimea. Several Russian journalists have wondered what’s gotten into these women. Uh ….. not YOU! Ukrainian women have decided that Russians are big dicks - and not the lucky kind. So, like the Smurfs, some Russian men are singing’ The Blue Ball Blues.

The story reminds me of the ancient Greek play about Lysistrata who persuades the women of Athens to withhold sex from their partners to force an end to the Peloponnesian War. This play has everything, by the way: erections, gender politics, more erections, old guys in dresses. It’s the Animal House of ancient Greece. In one scene the old men bring fire to burn down the city’s gates but the old women soak them with water – kind of a reverse wet tee-shirt contest.

But the women soon start to feel desperate for sex (I know THAT feeling!) and begin to make excuses to return to their beds – “Uh, I need to wash my sheets,” “Uh, I need to air out my comforter.” But Lysistrata whips them back into shape (well, not literally – see blog on Fifty Shades of Grey if you’re interested in THAT sort of thing) and they stay strong for the cause.

Meanwhile, all of the men are burdened with enormous erections. (On stage this scene looks like a Viagra festival – my favorite part.) They finally agree to peace talks. There’s a huge celebration in a hybrid May Day Parade/Orgy scene. Everyone gets laid and lives happily ever after.

So I hope that the Ukrainian women have the same success. Recently on Facebook they wrote, “Russian women, care to join us?” and “Our men are all still at home, but yours appear to be going to war.” How do you say, “Hold out there, Bitches!! We’re with you!!” in Ukrainian?

And, for your next girlfriends' get together, consider finding a cause to protest or support. Solidarity! 

Moaning Over Myths

By Tonia

March is Women’s History Month and, while I could certainly acknowledge many brave, intelligent, pioneering women here, its more my style to look at the ridiculous. So, for Women’s History Month, I’ve decided to take a look at some of the bizarre historical myths about women. Here they are:

Too much “female semen” turns women into demonic shrews. Supposedly “female semen” accumulated and festered in a woman’s body. I wonder if there was a bulge somewhere – you know, like pregnancy or zits. This terrible condition, this amassed female semen, was diagnosed as “female hysteria,” and its cure required women to orgasm. Hey! I got no trouble with that! And, truth be told, I probably DO feel a little bitchy if I haven’t had my whoopee in awhile. 

Women who think too much become sterile. Dr. Edward Clarke of Harvard University announced that women should not be exposed to higher education because thinking drew blood to their brains and away from their reproductive organs. Maybe women who think don’t WANT 12 kids! But the association of brains and genitalia is an interesting one – men thinking with their dicks?

Menstruation is poisonous. It was once believed that food exposed to a woman on her period would putrefy. Fruits and vegetables would rot; butter wouldn’t set; and meats would get moldy. Hey! Great excuse not to cook! Get me some red dye for my underwear…..

The body heat of young women could reverse aging in old men.  Apparently there are still men who think this but, sorry, guys, it’s a myth. But it was believed, even in the medical profession, that young women’s heat and moisture would revitalize wrinkly old bodies. Hell, if that’s all it takes, I’m spending WAY too much money on Botox and moisturizers!

Some vaginas have teeth. Yep. A whole set. Supposedly women who had these could castrate any man with a single bite. Instead of “eat me,” I guess those va-jay-jays were more the “eat you” type. Too bad the young girls who were made to sleep with those dirty old men didn’t have a set! I wonder if a set of dentures would fit in my……..

And, on that happy note, Happy Women’s History Month. Celebrate with your closest girlfriends playing the game Cards Against Humanity. It’s every kind of wrong but you’ll laugh your ass off (which is always a perk, in my opinion).

Date Night with GLORIA

by Tonia

"Is sex dirty? Only if it's done right." – Woody Allen

I recently went with a date to see GLORIA, a Chilean film (yes, with subtitles) about a late 50ish woman who has a love affair with a slightly older man. I was fascinated because I’m a late 50ish woman and I wanted to see how my love affairs sized up against hers. Well, that, and I heard there was a penis in the nude scenes….. 

So, yes, there was sex. And despite the typical big screen's gorgeous young bodies boning it up, Gloria and her partner look like real middle-aged people – with sag jiggling right there in bed with them. But, even with that, their sex is lusty and passionate and seemingly quite gratifying! I started to stand up and cheer for them but my date reminded me that it wasn't an Olympic event. It was just sex. Hollywood may be making a few movies about mature lovers (i.e. It’s Complicated, Hope Springs and Something’s Gotta Give) but they’re certainly not showing mature sexual encounters. THANK YOU, Chilean film makers! 

And, while the idea of mature sex probably horrifies young people (including – uh, ESPECIALLY - my children), research shows that sex is still important to us even into our 80s. If we have less sex as we age its because partners become less available – it’s not because we don’t want it. Personally I’m enjoying sex more now than I ever have. And that’s because:

(1) I feel sexier. I’m less inhibited and more confident now; I'm comfortable in my own skin. In my 20s I was pushing out babies; in my 30s I was trying to look smart in graduate school; and I don’t know WHAT the hell was wrong with me in my 40s!

(2) Sex is funnier now. When I was younger I thought sex was supposed to be romantic and serious. Now I’m just having fun. My partners and I are dealing with farting and leg cramps and clumsy position shifts (sometime I'll blog about a Reverse Cowgirl situation!) - and laughing about it - which is kind of sexy. 

(3) I’m more financially stable. I can afford those sexy little outfits and sex toys! I've just got to figure out a way to stay stocked in batteries!

(4) I have a gratitude attitude. As my dating pool dwindles, I’m truly thankful that I’m still getting laid. Seriously. It’s in the top 5 of My Things to Be Grateful For.

So guess what my date and I did after the movie……yep, we let the flab and sag go crazy!   :)

At your next girlfriends’ get together, go see GLORIA. She’s inspiring (and not just because of the sex)!