Remember when I called Billy Ray Cyrus a Pimp?

And I said that his daughters were his high priced hookers? And some people thought I was making a mountain out of a molehill?

Well HE’S NOTHING BUT A PIMP.

Yeah, you can explain away his allowing his 9 year old daughter to swing around stripper poles and dress in dominatrix boots and fishnets at public events, fine. But can you explain away his decision to allow her to front a ‘children’s lingerie line‘? [Edit: Apparently it's not children's lingerie, it's just tutus. The collection is fronted by Emily Grace, Noah Cyrus' best friend but is advertised by both girls.]

NO YOU CANNOT.

You stand corrected.

You can call me a lot of things, but never a prude. That just wouldn’t make any sense. I am extremely liberal, I believe that sex isn’t something to be shied away from. I have age appropriate conversations with my daughters about all topics, sexuality included. But if something is supposed to be for adults, it should be for adults – if it’s for children, it should be for children. This is why we don’t watch Hannah Montana in this house, even though I’ll let them watch Kill Bill. There is a difference between kid stuff, which they will emulate and admire much more than adult stuff, because my kids know the difference between what’s ok for them and what’s not. Miley Cyrus blurs that line and I won’t have that, so no Hannah Montana (they come as a package deal). Have you seen her outfits and actions on stage at her concerts for LITTLE GIRLS?!

Yeah, no. Not in my damn house.

Billy Ray Cyrus is a pimp. There is no excuse for little girls acting like that right under his nose. And all those business and publicity decisions are supposed to go right through him, so there’s no excuse: he’s selling their souls sexuality for money and fame. That’s disgusting.

Momspotting: a meme

For a few months now, I’ve been been a MomSpotter. It’s a BlogHer thing, officially called the Family Connections citizen journalism project. Pretty much, that means that I tweet a few times a day, with the #momspotting hashtag about how I use technology in my day-to-day parenting life. I’m quite dull really, and the other 19 or so mom’s are better at the whole deal than me, but I have to break up the monotony of my expletive filled rants and complaints with something, right? And you get to learn more about my AWESOME ADORABLE kids because of this, so you win! Anyway, look: I’m answering questions:

(If you like the meme, feel free to do one yourself and leave a link in the comments or tweet it with the #momspotting hashtag so I can come to your blog and see your answers and make fun of you in your comments.)

1.       Which expensive electronic device do you most often let your older children abuse or your baby drool on?

That would be my iPhone. Goobie doesn’t even ask anyone if she cane use it, she just picks it up and disappears. Our agreement is that she’ll never ignore a call or text, since she knows how, and she can use it whenever she likes. I’m not sure she’s living up to her end.

2.       How many take-out restaurant numbers do you have programmed into your phone?

None. Takeout is super rare, it’s either cooking at home or fast food.

3.       How many hours of television do you so totally not let your kids watch a week?

I have no idea, since our television is always on as background noise, it’s a habit I picked up from my grandparents. It’s always been that way and my kids ARE SMART AND SANE AND GREAT SO THERE.

4.       Do you think people who say “we don’t watch television” at playdates but really mean “we just watch DVDs” are lying liars from Liarville?

Playdates, haha. I don’t do those anymore, playgroups and I have a shitty history, which you know if you’ve been reading this blog for a while. My answer is no. I know a couple of parents with children that have no idea who Spongebob is and although I feel for them greatly, missing out on all the wonderfulness of that beautiful little happy sponge, I get it.

5.       How many miles have you driven with your child and not one device of electronic entertainment in a single car trip?

Hours. They have the radio. Or, and iPod or iPhone plugged into the radio. I figure that’s all the entertainment they need besides what’s out beyond the tinted window or a book.

6.       What’s your record for calls to the pediatrician or Ask-a-Nurse in a single day?

Six. My worries were well worth it, Bella had Pneumonia and had to be admitted into the hospital.

7.       What’s the sexiest thing your husband/partner could text you after a hard day?

Get naked. That’s it. I’m pretty simple. Most likely it’d read “I want to fuck your brains out.” though. That’s more Joey’s speed.

8.       What’s your favorite iPad joke?

Jim had me rolling, the first comparison to a feminine sanitary issue I saw on Twitter with this:

9.       What’s the dumbest parenting tool, gear, gadget or device you ever bought?

I’ve never bought one, as far as I can remember. A digital pregnancy test?

10.   How many years will it take for your child to become more tech-savvy than you?

NEVER. IT WILL NEVER HAPPEN. Unless they become software engineers or something, they will never know more.

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Listening to: John Mayer – Friends, Lovers or Nothing

I feel like I have to defend myself.

I don’t watch bad tv. I mean, I don’t watch what is usually considered bad television, I think. I don’t do any reality tv – at all – the last reality show I watched was I Love New York and how many years ago was that? Many years ago. Like before my kids could speak in complete sentences.

I don’t want much comedy because I’m of the opinion that most of it sucks. I stick with drama and I’m picky about what networks I’ll watch my dramas on – because of my stuffiness with networks, I missed out on the treasure that is Supernatural for these past few years and I feel like I’ve not lived because I just watched all 4 1/2 seasons in the span of a week – oh yes I did, 5 years of a show in ONE WEEK because I was that in love.

I just finished listening to my boyfriend and his best friend’s podcast, and he had my lovely love Miss on as a guest this week. And she totally shot down Jersey Shore and said I was going to get her for it. I will not. I totally understand. I hate how people watch these shitty shows and keep them on the air. I’m like, ugh, this is why GOOD shows get canceled – because you dumbfucks watch these crappy reality programs because you’re IDIOTS. You assholes and your stupid scripted reality have cost me Pushing Daises, Journeyman, and a slew of other stellar programs. And why the fuck doesn’t MTV play music videos anymore?!

It pisses my guts, I swear.

BUT

I love Jersey Shore. Okay? Okay.

I didn’t start watching Jersey Shore until 4 episodes in. I could not get rid of it, it was everywhere, so I tweeted about it, asking if I should check it out. The response was overwhelmingly YES. So I did. And OhmygodYES.

It’s amazing. It’s just amazing. The fact that these people exist, in real life, and these things happen, and these situations – and The Situation – are real, are actually real, it’s breathtaking. I’m allowed to have a guilty pleasure. This is it.

Jersey Shore is amazing. It’s as simple as that. I’m ready for Season Two.

P.S. I’m with Conan. See you in September, buddy.

P.P.S. There’s a photo of me in my underwear on BlogHer. Who’s RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS?!

Fat Acceptance.

Although I have not and will never do the same, I don’t have a problem with people who have accepted their larger shapes and have decided not to beat themselves up over it. More power to you, but I don’t believe in the Fat Acceptance movement. I don’t believe that we should let our children believe that it’s fine to be overweight or obese. The obesity rate in children here in the states is ridiculously high. They learn that at home. It’s not okay – we are jeopardizing the lives of those we swear to love the most with the examples we set and the standards we’re attempting to lower.

Is it alright to teach a young girl that it’s okay to be comfortable in her own skin, no matter her shape or size? Of course, definitely so. It is not alright to teach a young girl that it’s okay to be comfortable being overweight or obese, be out of shape, eat nothing but McDonald’s, to put her health at risk for sake of being alright with who she is. There’s a fine line there, but I’d rather cross it than not approach it.

We teach them to strive to be the very best that they can with everything they do, right? School, social relationships, extra-curricular activities. That should also extend their outward appearance. Not solely for the sake of vanity, but for their quality of life as a whole. We should tell them to strive to be healthy, not thin or skinny, but to be healthy. It they are healthy at an above average weight, fine. If they are not, we should not coddle them. It does them no good, and much harm.

My younger sister is fat. She’s 13 years old and weighs a significant amount. She’s at high risk for diabetes, and her pediatrician has suggested to her and my mom that she lose weight. Neither of them take heed. She eats nothing that doesn’t come from a microwave or a paper bag. The most walking she does is getting from class to class in school. She is growing, every day, width wise more so than in height, and my mother is so concerned with not making her feel self concious about it that she won’t address it.

That’s not what my sister needs – people tiptoeing around the topic of her weight. She shouldn’t like herself the way she is. She is unhealthy. She should be aware, if some rude child at school hasn’t already taken care of that for her, that she’s too big. How is she being taught to love herself if she’s not being taught to take care of herself? Those two things seem to go hand in hand, if we’re talking about teaching them to a child. I don’t want her to be huge and happy. She should be average, normal, healthy and happy. If that means that she can’t have anymore Hot Pockets and Toaster Strudels, and that she’s miserably riding her bike around the neighborhood, so be it.

She’s about to enter high school. High school is hard enough without being the fat girl. Soon, there will be boys. I’d hate to see her crushes crush her because of her size. Yeah, sure, that makes the boys assholes and shallow and all of that, but they’re teenage boys. That’s what they are. She’s going to be in the thick of it, and I don’t understand why my mom is willing to send her into that den of hyenas with a bullseye on her front. People don’t want to accept or acknowledge it, but the truth is that looks matter. They shouldn’t – sure – but they do.

Now, it’s time for me to practice what I preach. I’m not going on any weight loss journey, but I’ve got set a better examples for my girls. I know that I’m not going to sit idly by while they get fat. It’s never going to happen. We have some serious genes in this family to combat, and when they’re old enough to know/do better, I’m going to encourage them to be their best, both inside and out. People may think that’s a bad thing, but I think it’s a wonderful thing. I think it’s bad to do the opposite, and I realize that if I’m pushing them to join the volleyball team or not eat a triple whopper with cheese while sitting here 80 pounds overweight, unable to resist that last donut, that they’re not going to take me seriously and they probably shouldn’t. How am I supposed to tell them to take care of themselves mind, body and soul if I don’t do the same? ‘Do as I say, not as I do‘? Yeah, no. I know my daughters, and that is not going to fly.

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Listening to: John Mayer – In Repair

My 2009.

I had my hair cut. I was tattooed by a super cute I think Irish guy with red hair. I got straight A’s. I stopped blogging so much and started twittering more. I kept reading everyone else, but quit trying to weasel out extra time in my days to comment.I found out that I’m not the only woman in the world that deduces exactly why celebrity men are hot. I discovered Supernatural. I battled an addiction to Chester’s Flaming Hot Fries. I saw Death Cab For Cutie live and it made me respect and like them so much more. I struggled with some demons and conquered them.

*

I met the most awesome-st, sweetest, best guy in the whole world who thinks I hung the moon (his words, not mine) and happens to be so cute I can barely stand it (WIN.). In less than a month it’ll be a whole year we’ve been together. We had some ups and downs, and they were all my fault (no like seriously, every single issue we’ve had, big or small, was my fault). He’s not really done one thing wrong the entire time I’ve known him and I’m pretty confident that he’ll never hurt me. It feels really good to feel like that. When you’re in a bad relationship for so long, you start to expect bullshit and harsh treatment, from everyone all of the time. It makes you bitter and defensive and just an overall pain in the ass.Well, it made me like that. In the back of my head, I knew that Joey and I would end or that it would turn ugly, and I went on my usual self destructing path and tried to sabotage it, even though I knew I didn’t want to lose it. I broke up with him at one point, pretty much convinced that I didn’t love him. Know why? Because I believed that if I loved him, I’d have the passion for him that I had for my ex. Where passion equals hatred.

I was in this…mindset. I needed sporadic friction. I needed to push and be pushed to breaking points and then build things back up (to tear them down again later). That’s how I expressed love and that’s how it was expressed to me. “Hey, let me really fuck with you, say and do some hurtful, unforgivable shit. Let me make you feel like complete crap and then let’s be okay again, because no matter how mad we make each other, we can always kiss and makeup.” What the fuck? … J. and I were really messed up. It took moving on to see that. Joey stuck by me while I worked all of that out. He believed in us, even when I didn’t, and it has made all the difference.

Anyway, yeah, I’m not like that anymore. I’m not having those inner struggles, I’m totally happy with this boy that I love and my girls love and who loves us back. But enough about Joey, I don’t want him to get a big head.

*

One of the true highlights of the year was BlogHer ‘09, and not the conference. I mean the conference was wonderful, as usual, and I got to hang out with some really awesome people but the real joy was traversing all over Chicago with my makeshift band of sisters. They’re all amazing, and I can’t wait to see them again in 6 8 months.

These two are physical proof that the internet is the best place to make friends. That the relationships we form through blogging are real and just as valid and marvelous as those nurtured in person. They’re not just beautiful, but they have hearts made of gold and primrose. They helped me get through tough times with sound advice and open arms and I love them. Also, all three of us went from competing for BIGGEST DOUCHEBAG EX to BEST BOYFRIEND IN THE UNIVERSE. Happily? There’s really been no clear cut winner in the latter category and probably never will be. I’m jealous that they live much closer to each other than they probably ever will to me, but you know. It’s ok. Makes me more special since I’m seen so much less. Heh.

*

My baby started school ohmygod and she’s doing wonderfully. She loves it. My other baby stopped sucking her thumb, simply because I told her to which I hear is pretty awesome. They grew and  flourished and turned 6 and 4 years old. They challenged me and made me a better person, again and again. They showed how resilient they are, how smart and calculated they can be. They made strides towards becoming the young women I hope they will be, tough and beautiful and intelligent and loving. For the first time we celebrated holidays and birthdays a new family, and they didn’t miss a beat.

They also have like THE best fashion sense in the world – especially The Bella. That girl can throw together an outfit. Did you know she wants to be a dentist that moonlights as a clothing or interior designer? She’s currently drawing designs for her new t-shirt collection as I type. Seems like a unique aspiration for a Kindergartner, and I completely support it. Goobie wants to be a Dr. Princess, which is totally average,  but still totally awesome.

*

So yeah, my year was wonderful. Except I gained 15 pounds. Small price to pay for bliss, I guess. How was yours?

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Listening to: James Morrison – If The Rain Must Fall