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Cocktails and Passion, Hold the Books
Since the beginning of time, women have had diversions: bridge club, garden club, Bunko, book club, and the myriad of at-home parties – Stella and Dot, Pampered Chef, Cookie Lee, Southern Living – you get the idea. Let’s be honest: these are all excuses to get a few hours away from the kids, husbands, boyfriends, pets, whatever and enjoy some time with the girls.
These events are a time to catch up on each others’ lives, share parenting horror stories and exchange beauty tips, recipes and laughs. The theme, activity or reason for gathering is arbitrary, as long as we come together as women to blow off steam. I remember my shock the first time I attended book club, with my book in hand, to find that half of the women don’t read the book and we rarely discuss it. (I, being an avid reader, was slightly disappointed, but the second cocktail made me feel better.) In summary, our gatherings are the male equivalent of grabbing a beer after work (or so I suspect).
To my knowledge, all of these female gatherings include wine, cocktails or other appropriate alcohol (I’d go to Spanish Club if they served Sangria). Maybe that’s just my group of friends, but I remember my grandmother pulling out the terrifying jug of Chablis (that poured like maple syrup…) to offer with the iced tea for her bridge club. (Emily Post had nothing on those women who were steadfast enough to drink that with a polite smile). Depending on if the gathering is day or evening dictates how much consumption is socially acceptable. Occasionally, there is the added thrill of a gutsy gal exceeding the quota and being the entertainment for the evening.
This last Saturday night I attended a Passion Party. This is the pinnacle of the secret female gatherings. A consultant comes in to provide ideas and products to make life more interesting in the bedroom. *If you are conservative, stop reading, but may I remind you that if you’re a mom, you likely had sex to have a baby and if you’re not a mom, your parents likely had sex to have you – get over it!
Glad you’re still with me. But, lucky for you, the Grapefruit martinis make the evening just fuzzy enough not to articulate. (But I do believe we made the party consultant blush with our comments!) Therefore, if I am not going to provide details of the evening, why do I bring it up? Because it highlights all that is perfect about girls evenings. They are uninhibited, real and can bond perfect strangers. (I can now tell you – but I won’t – who has handcuffs in their homes and who is the most knowledgable about toys). As women, we openly discuss menstruation, children’s’ poop and weight; how is sex any more taboo? We are empowered to speak the alcohol induced truth and share our “wisdom”, humor and most embarrassing stories. We laugh so hard we understand the importance of Kegel’s.
After such an evening, we are rejuvenated – we have the smug smile of somebody holding a juicy secret and some of us anticipate the arrival of unmarked package, while dreading the visa bill. For me, I felt more romantical (it’s my favorite made up word) towards my husband and was more patient with my children. I feel closer to my girlfriends and somehow feel like a stronger woman in general.
So I am huge supporter of female gatherings and all the “secrets” shared there. I also like pages 6-9 of the summer catalog, but that’s another story…
The 7 Deadly Sins of Parenting
MSN did a piece yesterday about the Seven Deadly Sins . It got me to thinking about my sins as a parent:
Lust: With our busy schedules, traditional lust is not a daily occurrence around here. However, I will admit to lusting after shoes and purses. My shopping budget is about as scarce as lust, so I lust after the material things I gave up when I gave birth to the products of traditional lust.
Wrath: I have shared with you the dangers of the crazy mama bear. They say there is no greater wrath/fury than a woman scorned. Wrong! There is no greater wrath than me if you so much as look at my children in a threatening way. Only I can give them that look.
Pride: This is practically a gimme for parents. Have I told you my six-year-old and three-year old can water ski? Yes, I have, but I’m glad to have the opportunity to tell you brag again. I would post pictures of my kids to show the world how stinkin’ cute they are, but it goes back to that wrath and over-protective mama thing. So, pride – check.
Greed: If honesty compensates for greed than let me be clear: I would love to be rich, but not famous. I want enough money to choose my activities, to only work on things I am passionate about, to work less and enjoy life more. But it’s not just money, I want more time too. Time with the kids, time with my husband, time for myself, time for my friends. Call me Veruca: I want more and I want it now.
Envy: I envy moms (and dads) who appear to have more balance in their lives than me. I say “appear” because if they are anything like me, you shouldn’t look behind their curtain either.
Gluttony: Covered that with my post about Mommy’s Hierarchy of Needs. I use sweets and cocktails to achieve balance in my slightly off-balance life. When I really want to show my kids how much I care for them I say, “I love you more than chocolate” and sometimes I mean it.
Sloth: I have had 7 different posts that mention my inconsistent showering habits (really, I counted). Sloth is practically my middle name! I dare say I envy those who have more opportunities to be lazy than me. Do I get double points for a sin about a sin?
Bringing little angels into the world drives us to commit sin on a daily basis. Does that make me a great parent, a bad parent or just totally normal?
I Have Slept in the Rain, I Am Not High Maintenance
- I don’t belive in manicures. (Although I have vastly different views on pedicures)
- If there is food involved I can be ready in under three minutes to walk out the door. (But you may not want to sit across from me)
- If you’re cooking, I will eat it, no questions asked.
- I drink beer, not just wine and cocktails. The Silver Bullet suits me just fine.
- I love hand-me-downs for my kids.
- My Nieman Marcus is Marshalls.
- Filet mignon and pizza are pretty much on the same level for me.
- Days, okay I won’t lie – weeks, go by without me doing my make-up or hair.
- If I don’t leave the house, I don’t dress up, or get dressed…
- I will camp. In a tent. In the rain. And have fun.

Just like the Four Seasons!
10 Rules of Slightly Off-Balance Me
I am currently reading Bitter Is The New Black by Jen Lancaster. In her book, she has the “Jen Commandments” that basically give her boyfriend Fletch some guidelines he must adhere to. Hilarious! They inspired me to write my commandments. I am sure my husband has already figured these out, but a few might be universal – please check with your significant other!
- Skin care, hair care and supplements are not luxuries, they are necessities – I plan to grow old gracefully. Well, at least look graceful.
- If opening a bottle of wine, save the cheap stuff for someone else. I may have broken up with wine, but we still each other, and I want our reunions to be special.
- I like to cook but I do not want to be expected to do it on a regular basis.
- I have mowed a lawn once. Period.
- I am a HUGE over-communicator (I know you’re shocked), failure to communicate back to me will be taken as a sign of hostility.
- When faced with a situation I don’t know how to handle (like turning off a quad), I will throw my hands up in the air and say”What do I do?” Come running.
- Never leave the house without a hug and kiss goodbye. However, if one of us has not brushed our teeth, stick to the cheek please.
- That reminds me, morning breath is a huge inhibitor to morning sex.
- I like to pretend I am handy and love to have a reason to carry around the Makita (I say that word over and over), please don’t burst my bubble.
- I am fine with guy humor and fraternity house talk, but the toilet seat must be down.
Wow, 10 went fast and I have more to say. This might be the first installment of the rule book… I realize I may sound high maintenance, I prefer to tell my husband I am a delicate orchid, that when properly cared for provides endless beauty and enjoyment. (Then we both laugh hysterically.)
What are your rules?
10 Effects of Shopping with Kids
While my husband was on his guys trip this weekend, I stayed home with the kids. I was thrilled to have no schedule to adhere to other than one soccer game. I had planned to just relax with my kids, until I had the brilliant idea to do some shopping for my upcoming trip to New York. Here are the effects of my bright idea…
- While wearing flip-flops I had my foot run over by my insistent cart drivers SIX times
- They opened the dressing room door, exposing my semi-naked body, TWICE
- My daughter did “snow angels” on the floor of Ross – hello bath time!
- I fed my kids two chocolate milks, two LARGE cookies, hotdogs and popcorn in an undisclosed order…
- I had to bribe with a toy submarine, a Dora backpack, and two dollar-bin masks, AFTER say, I would not buy them anything
- I ran into someone I knew at the exact moment I was hissing at my kids that they had better behave or else
- I “temporarily” lost the car keys
- I was impressed by my kids creativity when they devised dressing room games including
- Different ways to wear a strapless bra and underwear (picture underwear on their heads with sunglasses over it)
- How to turn plastic hangers into weapons
- How high can they throw the tags that tell how many items I have in the dressing room
- I almost inadvertently shoplifted when I found a bracelet in my purse, as I was pulling out my wallet at the register, that my daughter had decided she wanted
- I have come up with a new mommy threat – “Be good or I will take you clothes shopping with me”
I have friends and family who would have watched the kids, but I decided I was supermom and could handle a few errands with the kids. Isn’t it great how life reminds us that we there is no such thing as supermom?