● Upon reading a brave young lady’s account of being sexually assaulted at a metal show,
I was reminded of the time I confessed to a past boyfriend my deep dark secret of being
assaulted myself. And how he called me a liar. Same boyfriend a few months later got
angry at me for yelling at one of his customers at the bar he worked at because the
customer grabbed my ass, and was equally handsy with other ladies at the same time.
● Taking a walk last night, I was hollered at by an SUV full of young men. Contrary to their
intentions, I was not flattered, only thankful I was on a busy street so if they tried to
physically assault me, at least I was in public and would maybe get help from passers by. Continue reading
My son is 6. I like it because he can tell me when things are wrong with him or what he wants to eat or about his favorite Avengers. I don’t like it because he can also tell fibs and ignore me and also sometimes act like a giant dick. And it’s times like those when I think, “I’m really bad at this. Like…BAD.” I’m not, say, Dina Lohan bad. But I know that he’ll be in therapy one day talking about how that one morning before school, Mom lost her shit and threw his bookbag across the room. Or dropped the f-bomb 34 times in a tirade about him not listening. Or. Or. Or. Continue reading
I know the grammar in the title is incorrect, but that’s what you get when you’re running on four hours of sleep and a beer (don’t judge me…both kids are down for a nap).
I have two kids. And life, right now, is kind of hard. It’s mostly happy, but it’s hard.
Someone once told me that going from 1-2 kids is way easier that going from 0-1. I call bullshit.
Being a new mother to a brand new baby is always hard. Especially when it’s your first. (And I bet, especially, especially, if you’re a single parent).
However, at least that’s the only other being you have to focus on.
When you have two kids, everything becomes a little fuzzier. You try to focus on the baby, while running, yes, literally, running, after the other one.
Hello all you fantastic Damn Pants friends! How are your lives going? I’m hoping better than ours. We’re all bogged down with work and kid freak outs and allergies and life in general. When I started this, my goal was to have lots of contributors so if someone was swamped there wouldn’t be a ton of pressure to post. It honestly never occurred to me that we’d all go crazy at once. Blah blah bad joke about cycles syncing blah. So, a new actual post will go up when someone gets some energy and inspiration. Until then, we love you, we miss you, we think you’re grand.
The majority of my adult life was defined by insomnia. Scratch that – the majority of my life, period. Summer vacations involved a lot of reruns at 2am – which explains my deep, eternal love for Scott Bakula. Mornings were my enemy – to the point that I worked for several years on an overnight shift. It suited me – although I did start reacting to sunlight like Gollum.
I’ve been on all of the sleeping pills, the pills that aren’t for sleeping but have that as a side effect, herbal teas, supplements. I’ve cut out caffeine, tried meditation, set up a very specific schedule, exercised, and tried drinking myself to sleep. Nothing worked for more than a week, most not at all. I’d accepted my life would be lived in an exhausted haze with plenty of nature documentaries and QVC.
Then, about a year ago, I was suddenly cured. I was going to sleep by 10 and waking up at 6 like a proper adult. The change happened when I moved in with a friend – we’ll call her Shmauren – and her very energetic son, who we’ll refer to as Optimus Prime. Living with Optimus Prime was like living with the world’s most effective alarm clock. When he was up, so were you. And it became kind of awesome. I was getting a solid 7-8 hours a night; I was productive in the morning; I was ON TIME TO WORK.