honest abe

warning: adult content. or maybe just WAY-TMI.

i remember when i was younger, i used to chide my mom about not regularly shaving her bikini line. growing up in sacramento where it is hot as bawlz every summer, we spent a lot of time in our swimsuits (also a lot of time in no swimsuits). i always cringed when moms strutted her "unmanicured lawn" loud and proud. especially in my teen years, i balked with embarrassment, and said something along the lines of, "like, omigod, mom, there are these things called razors?!" she assured me that, believe it or not, someday, keeping a perfectly trimmed bikini line would not be at the top of my priority list. my reply? "whatever." [insert teen eye roll here.]

of course, i also made a $50 bet with my mom that i would never, ever, under any circumstances (well, except maybe when i was pregnant) weigh more than 135 pounds. mom. wherever you are. i owe you $50, plus a shit-ton of interest. am i paying by the pound?

i'm still not brave enough to venture into public with wild bikini vegetation, but when i know the only people who are going to see it are legally obligated to love me, my standards deteriorate significantly. my girlfriend's story takes the cake though. she was already admittedly low maintenance, and has, apparently, let things slide a bit since having her first child. she recently told me about the time she and her husband were getting, ahem, "intimate" and he started to make his way down to her nether regions to do "the bizness." he pulled up short, stopping with his chin obscured by her topiary pink taco, and said "Four score and seven years ago..."

omg you guys. when she told me this story i definitely laughed and thought it was pretty funny but that was like, two months ago and i have to say at least once a week (mainly whenever i get around to trimming my own "lawn.") it pops unbidden into my head and i start snorting hysterically in the shower. so, sorry friend, that i think about your pubes on a regular basis :)

this is all reminding me of the time i went to a new waxing lady and she gave my hoohah a hitler mustache. it was not attractive.

apparently, prolific pubic hair is du jour. have you heard of the "reverse brazilian?"

i actually have a larger point here. we are busy. so busy. all of us. unless you live on an ashram in rural connecticut, in which case you are probably not reading this blog post about pubes, lucky you. but the rest of us, we are in the midst of a "time famine." not only do i not have time to keep my nether regions smooth as a baby's bottom, most days i don't have time or energy to shave both legs or make my hair not look like a homeless person's or remember to brush my teeth or actually fold the piles of laundry strewn about the house or ensure that my fridge is well-stocked with nutritional and delicious foodstuffs.

of course, the issue of time, and "free" time, is complex. the other evening i pointed out to DM that it was interesting that he had time to read my blog, but didn't have time for other quotidia. he replied that he couldn't do those other things while he was on the toilet. ew. but fair enough ;) i'm guilty of the same multi-tasking and prioritization. i spend at least 30 minutes every night reading for fun. usually more. i could be using that time to do chores, or organize my life, or exercise, but honestly, i just plain don't want to. reading in bed, while contrary to the stern advice of my sleep doctor, is one of my favorite things. it's my happy place. and i'm not willing to give it up.

another area i have really let things slide is actual human correspondence. my sister sends me threatening texts because i'll write her something but then not answer my phone when she calls 2.5 seconds later. but i can send a quick text while juggling children and dull knives and "spill proof" sippy cups. i can't say the same about an actual conversation. i can barely pay attention to what you are saying when you are two feet in front of my face. over the phone while i'm doing 19 other things? forget it. people say "oh but you have time to read and write your blog and upload 13,000 photos of your children, etc." okay, you're right. listen, if you want to talk to me at 6:01 am or 10:59 pm, or on my lunch break while i'm sitting on a curb waiting for my fancy overpriced hipster food truck burrito (these are the times i do those other things), then hey, i'm here for you. i'm all ears for the next seven minutes and twenty-eight seconds.

all of that is a really long way of saying, something's gotta give. as i recently wrote, i used to sort of kick ass at life, but that is but a distant memory. i don't know exactly when or how it happened, but i have lost control of the situation. i was talking to DM about it the other day, about what i could get rid of to pare down, simplify, get ahold of the reins again. my kids didn't come with a return policy, so that's a no-go. and honestly, as much as i bitch about the trials and tribulations of motherhood, i don't want to spend any less time with them. i'm already away from them 50 hours a week. they sleep 70 hours a week. that gives me 48 waking hours with my children. even if i want to throttle them for 3 6 12 of those 48 hours, i'm not willing to give any more of them up.

OMG, that reminds me - we are never going on date night ever again (at least, until next week ;)) the other day, jack was looking at this lacquered tray i made one craft night with a girlfriend (an evening that resulted in said tray being lacquered to her garage floor. whoops. martha stewart i am not.) it has old hula girl postcards on it. he said, pointing to one of the hula girls: "Dis is you, Mama." and then a surfer dude: "And dat one's Daddy." me: "Oh, where are you?" jack: "I'm nowhere. I got left behind wif da babysitter." SOB. saddest. thing. EH-VERRRRR. i think my heart is still bleeding :(((

also when they play "ironing man babies," which is like a combination of house, star wars, super heroes, and "the road" by cormac mccarthy. colby calls the babies "2" and "3 1/2" and/or "little" and "big." jack has dubbed them "Braysick" and "Claysick," and their middle names are "Fat" and "Jet." ha! but i want to cry when they lie their babies down to sleep on their boogie board beds and jack says, "I'm sowwy Bwaysick-Cwaysick Fat-Zshet, I know you arwe sad and I wiwll miss you so much, but we has to go to woik! Buh Bye!" then colby echoes "Mish you sho much Big-Littow! Gotta go Littow-Big! Byeeeee!" my kids' primary interaction with their own "babies" are fire fights, loss of life and limb, and abandonment. i tell you what, i am feeling super about my influence as a parent right about now!

of course, i could completely check out, go off the grid with respect to social media. i've dialed it down on my personal facebook page and it's amazing how ... liberating it is. but, you lose something, too. for better or worse, this is how people communicate these days. i suggested just giving up blogging, because it's more work than it probably seems. but DM pointed out that blogging actually appears to be a useful way for me to get the crazy Gordian knot of thoughts out of my insane little brain. and he's right. here's the deal, though. i've been doing this almost a year (!) and i really enjoy it. but i've realized a few things. the market is completely saturated. it takes more than luck to make it work. "legit" bloggers? the ones with big faithful followings and book deals? they don't mess around. they are out there making connections, shaking hands, attending conferences, seeing and being seen. they post on a regular schedule, do product reviews, find sponsors, reach out, get it done.

this blogging thing is, or can be, serious business. but i don't have the drive, the energy, or the hours in the day. still, i find myself stressing when i haven't posted in a week, or two, because the "blogging experts" warn that if you don't post regularly, you lose followers and interest. but i can't succumb to that. for me, blogging is just free therapy. and that's all i can afford for it to be. i want to write when i have time and have something to say, and not write when i don't. i love and appreciate each and every one of you who has come along for the ride - those of you who faithfully read and "like" and "share" each and every post, and those who visit only when they have absolutely nothing better to do. family and old friends who are obligated to at least pretend they read my ramblings, and new "friends" that i've never met "in real life" but i'm half in love with anyway. i hope you'll continue to accompany me on this adventure in whatever form it takes. but for year two, i'm clarifying my purpose: blogging to blog. hopes of a million dollar book deal, fame, world domination? out. making fun of myself, whining, catharsis, distillation of my frenetic thoughts? in. i want to keep loving it. i don't want to turn it into one more "should."

so, there you have it.

and, in honor of my impending one-year blogiversary, feel free to enter the giveaway, below! first prize of a $50 gift card to my Mecca - Le Tarszhay. second and third prizes - $25 amazon gift cards. the contest ends and winners will be announced on May 31, 2014, my official one year blogiversary!

thank you, friends!

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