|DIARY OF AN URBAN MILKMAID|
|The chickens have come home to roost. On more than one front, it seems...
First, as I write this - there is a "Past Due" notice on my desk, from one of my company's vendors. The notice is my fault, because last month, I was too afraid to call down to the accounting department - to make sure I'd paid the freakin' thing. Now it's PAST DUE in big, red letters. Fuck.Me.
Second, the kidlet has recently discovered and embraced her inner-Pamela Anders0n. She decided to wear her special, low cut, spaghetti-strap, black velveteen top to school this morning. As she stood before me, boobs akimbo - I realized I didn't have the intestinal fortitude to do the whole screaming match. It was only 7:30 in the morning. I let her go, wearing that damned top, with an 0ld Navy sweatshirt over it.
Of course, we discussed self-esteem issues, and how they related to boob size, all the way to school. She felt that size related to power. I offered that size related to fat...
By the time we got to school, she was certain that my only purpose in life, was to tear down her self-image. But she had the zipper of the sweatshirt all the way up to her neck. Good job mom!
I believe the secret to good parenting, is to understand that as soon as our kids realize we actually don't have any control over them - that's when we've lost. If we can continue to keep the lie going - for as many years as possible - we'll be okay.
|Buh Bye! |
October 05, 2008
Be Afraid, People.... Really Afraid
One Last Bitchfest for the Road
Get the Popcorn Ready
I'm a Rich Ho-Bag
|Marriage is love.|