Yours, Mine and Theirs

Yours, Mine and Theirs: What Autism Looks Like… Really

I read through the test results, which may as well have been written in Japanese, for all I got out of the therapy-speak and scoring, but there… under “Conclusion”… there was what I’ve known, all along.

My daughter, Curlytop, is one of many, many people in the world who reside within the Autism Spectrum.

God, I was so relieved to finally have an accurate diagnosis! I was so ready to fax off the results to the misdiagnosis-giving-ADHD-zealots, and reiterate my desire that their bunk label find a home where the sun doesn’t shine! I mean, I’m no proctologist, but I’m pretty sure I know where to put that faulty diagnosis. I was so grateful to be on the road to accessing more services, and getting more answers! I was Supermom, on a quad-shot mocha, ready to rock that shit!

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Yours, Mine and Theirs: Motherhood Ruined my Jams

My new car has satellite radio, y’all. This is a new, exciting, grown-up thing for me.

Initially, I was in love with the idea of “all 80s, all the time,” just one click away from “badass hits of the 90s,” but reviving the music of my youth isn’t the walk down memory lane I’d hoped for.

How the hell did this filth become the anthems of my youth?! Looking back on my fave songs from adolescence and teendom, I don’t know how my mother restrained herself from burning my Walkman. Is it possible becoming a mother, myself, has made me *gasp* scrutinize the lyrics of songs I once belted out, with abandon?

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Yours, Mine and Theirs: Fifty Shades of ‘Meh’

So, there’s a movie coming out this weekend. 50 Shades of Something? A lot of my clients are really excited about it, and as a sexual health educator and purveyor of intimacy-enhancing items, I won’t say it’s been bad for business. What I will say is… I don’t see the point.

As you may know, the movie is based upon a trilogy of books which are — literarily speaking — a shining example of mediocrity. As a writer, they were painful to read. As a busy mommy, frankly, I found them yawn-worthy.

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Yours, Mine and Theirs: Sorry I’m Not Sorry My Kid Didn’t Get Her Homework Done

Dear Third Grade Classroom Teacher:

Sorry I’m not sorry Curlytop didn’t get her homework packet done. I know your weekly schedule is probably very busy, and finding time to make sure my daughter is completing her assigned work is probably pretty stressful. To add to your chaos level, you happen have the distinct misfortune of having me as one of your classroom parents.

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Yours, Mine & Theirs: Caution, Slippery When Wet

In my professional role as a sexual health educator, I’m perhaps most notoriously known for being a lubricant Nazi. I’ve been known to take women from protests of, “Girl, I don’t need lube! I’m telling you, a river runs through it, if you know what I’m saying,” to paranoid exclamations of, “My God… Everything I thought I knew has been a lie!”

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Yours, Mine and Theirs: Pimp My Mom Ride

Dear Pimp My Mom Ride:

You may have seen me driving around town. That 20-year-old SUV with “WASH ME” etched into the quarter-inch of dirt and caked mud (thanks, kids)? Yeah, that was me.

Should any of my friends contact you to say my vehicle needs an overhaul (it does!), I’d appreciate it if you don’t let them know we’ve been in touch. I know loved ones always have suggestions as to what they think the vehicle owner would like, but I have some very specific needs, so if your producers could sort of nudge my peeps in the right direction, that would be awesome.

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Yours, Mine and Theirs: My Summer F*&# It List

School is ready to release for the summer, and Pinterest tells me all the good mothers of the world are looking forward to accomplishing five hundred things on their “Summer Bucket Lists” while enrolling their precious progeny in day camps, sports clinics, adventure learning sessions, and spending invaluable “quality downtime” as a family.

Um… yeah. That’s not exactly my plan for the summer. I’ve had to abandon the idea of a Summer Bucket List for something a little more attainable, thereby minimizing opportunities for my children to point out my abject failure.

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Yours, Mine and Theirs: I’m Ready… Or Not!

I had the good fortune to see my 39th birthday last month. Yep. This year will be the last time I’ll be able to say, with a smile and straight face, “I’m only 39!”

Am I ready to turn 40? Not really. I don’t feel 40. Except my feet. My feet feel every single day of 60. They’ve logged a lot of miles, hops and bounces — walking down to the old swimming hole every day of every summer (I’m almost certain it was uphill, both ways) between the ages of nine and 13, running cross country and track at 14 and 15, cheering on a winning high school football team at 16 and 17, waiting tables at 18, walking the floors in the middle of the night with an inconsolable newborn at 19, waiting more tables from 21 to 26, pushing strollers and holding hands with seven different children for so, so many years… My feet are old.

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Yours, Mine and Theirs: How I’m Already #Winning2014

Ah, 2013… Just when I started to really get to know you, you cut loose, leaving me with only memories.

Remember all the promises we made to each other? What did you call them… Resolutions? Remember how my promise to be more organized burned into a crispy mess, like a French fry stuck in the bottom of the deep-fryer? Remember how Christmas Eve came, and I still didn’t have the tree up?

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Yours, Mine and Theirs: 10 Things I Learned on Vacation with My Family

We’ve returned from Oahu to the freezing wasteland — er, make that wonderland — that is home. Thank goodness, because all that disgusting sunshine and private beach time is enough to get on anyone’s nerves. I came back with annoyingly tanned skin, too, and was forced to create romantic memories with Mr. Wright. The horror.

The trip wasn’t a total waste, though. I did pick up some very valuable information between torturous strolls in the sand and sampling delicious exotic foods.

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