The one with the sex talk I constantly have with my teenager

The one with the sex talk I constantly have with my teenager

I am a parent of a teenager, which inherently means I don’t know anything at all. Just ask my kid. He’s 18 now and thinks he’s completely independent, although I don’t know how he figures that as he is unemployed, walking everywhere because his vehicle doesn’t run and I’m done dumping money in to it, and is staying with friends who’s parents take pity on him because **GASP** we don’t have satellite or cable TV at our house, the blu ray player quit working so he can’t even stream internet on the TV, and I expect him to clean up after himself. Clearly, he can’t stay there under such primeval conditions, so he comes home every once in a while to wash clothes, eat everything in the house and dirty every single dish I own.

He called me yesterday because his cell phone is out of minutes and needed refilled. Of course I did it. I mean, it’s $30, and the only way I have of knowing he is still alive. It’s a small price to pay, for me anyway. For him, calling to ask for more minutes for his phone means hearing “Don’t be boning anyone unless you use protection.” He knows it’s going to be said, because any time he’s gone out with friends, or he’s been on his own for a day or 2 while I’ve been out of town, it’s the last thing I tell him. “Don’t be boning anyone without protection.” It’s always met with a “Ugh…MOM! Literally nobody else’s mom talks to them like that,” (well they should), or “MOM! **eye roll** I don’t do that!” (liar)

Yesterday though…yesterday when faced with the standard “Don’t be boning anyone unless you use protection,” he countered with “My girlfriend is on birth control.” Yeah…not good enough dude. Imagine my surprise when he actually listened without the eye roll when I laid it out for him like this: My girlfriend is on birth control is not a good enough answer dude, and here’s why.

  • Girls sometimes lie about being on birth control
  • Birth control does not protect you against STDs. Do you really want to tell me that you need to go to the doctor because it burns when you pee? Because you’re still on my insurance, and I’m going to be the one paying the co-pay for you, or getting the EOB from my insurance company after you go to the doctor without telling me about it.
  • You’re not emotionally ready to be told to do the dishes, so you’re really not emotionally ready for sex, but that’s beside the point.
  • Birth control does not protect you against mothers and fathers of pretty girls.
  • Birth control is not solely your girlfriend’s responsibility, so use condoms and take some damn responsibility yourself.
  • Finally, if the birth control fails, you can not financially take care of yourself, let alone a child. Yes, I know I did it, but frankly, I did a shit job at it, and whether or not you agree, I’m a whole hell of a lot stronger than you are. Actually, I take that back. I WAS a whole hell of a lot stronger than you are. I can’t do it again. I won’t do it again. I can’t be responsible for another small human without that small human coming with a grown ass man that I get to sleep next to every night. So for the love of all things holy, and for the sake of your own future do not rely solely on “My girlfriend is on birth control” while you are doing things that I still don’t think you’re ready for.

At the end of all of that, he said “So are you going to add minutes to my phone or not?”

“Of course,” I responded.

“Thanks Mom. I love you.”

And that was all there was said. No “Whatever Mom” or any other form of “you don’t know anything” disgust, just “Thanks Mom. I love you.” Did anything sink in? I have no idea. But what I do know is “Save sex until you’re married” isn’t going to cut it. Putting my head in the sand and ignoring it is just going to create problems, so no matter how “inappropriate” the way I address the situation may be, it’s the only way he was going to listen, and he had to hear it, because even though he’s an “adult” (and I use that term loosely), I am the parent, and he’s not ready to be one.

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The accidental boudoir photos

The accidental boudoir photos

Scars

I was out of town last weekend, and yesterday was an 18 hour work day. Of course I know I need to do laundry, because Lord knows the closet, dresser, and sofa FULL of clothes didn’t have anything to choose from at all, but it simply didn’t happen last night. Cut to this morning as my alarm is telling me it’s time to wake up. I’m really not a fan of knowing there are two 4:30s in a day, and consequently hit snooze for nearly half an hour until the second alarm went off. That’s the one that says “Listen here lazy, you’re going to be late for work if you don’t get out of bed right this minute and get your butt in gear.”

I begrudgingly dragged myself out of bed while simultaneously considering throwing my phone at the wall to shut the alarm off, but quickly realized that would result in a $700 bill for its replacement. As I went through the morning routine as quickly as humanly possible, I realized I never did do laundry last night, and all I really want to wear is everything that’s dirty. Ooh….except in the trunk of my car there’s a shirt that remains unworn from the weekend. That would do, but I really didn’t have time to find a hoodie to throw on while running outside, and then back in to change. Seriously, it would have taken minutes, but adulting wasn’t my strong point this morning at all.

It took all of 30 seconds to realize that while I have neighbors, it was 5:30am, and I have never seen any of them that early EVER. I can count on one hand how many times I’ve seen a car drive by my house at that time of morning, so I figured I was safe. I grabbed my keys, shut off all the lights, and walked out of my door in my distressed denim and yellow bra. It took all of 3 seconds to arrive at the area near my garage where the motion light kicks on at the exact moment 3 cars pass right by my freaking driveway, as I’m out there topless and right under that damn light. Perhaps I should have been a little embarrassed, but instead, I just waved and then grabbed my shirt from the trunk and went on my merry way. I mean, just because I didn’t have a shirt on, doesn’t mean there’s any reason to be rude on the off chance that they were awake enough to even be looking to the right as they were driving by.

A year or so ago this wouldn’t have even been a possibility. A year or so ago, I would have found a hoodie, ran outside to grab the shirt, went right back in my house to change, and just have been 2 minutes or so later for work than usual. A lot has changed in this last year though, and instead of worrying about the insignificant and stupid things, instead of picking myself apart for every single imperfection, I’m ever so slowly learning to appreciate those things. I’m learning that instead of hating my imperfections, it’s probably better to just embrace them, and what they can do, and the insane amount of struggle they’ve carried me through.

So this probably won’t be the last time I have problems adulting that send me to my car in search of a clean shirt or pair of pants, and it definitely won’t be my last boudoir photo opportunity. I have one in the works later this year with a ridiculously talented photographer, because as my favorite level 12 friend says, “There’s nothing more liberating than prancing around in your chonies while someone takes your picture.”

Adventures in Tinderland part 1

Adventures in Tinderland part 1

A year or so ago, I decided playing around on Tinder would be a fun thing to do. Don’t judge me. When you’re old and everyone you know is married, you’ve gotta do something to find other single people. With the exception of one absolutely amazing person I met through that stupid little app (there’s a whole other post about this one in the future), it’s been a colossal failure as far as actually finding someone to do anything with ever, but it’s been an absolute delight as far as entertainment value goes.

First of all, did you realize there’s a difference between Utah Tinder and Tinder in the rest of the world? Well there is. You see, in Utah, there are people who actually believe they are going to find the love of their life on Tinder. In the rest of the world, unless you’ve been living under a rock, you realize Tinder is less looking for the love of your life and more looking for the clothing completely optional love of a couple of hours at most. I mean, I’m not knocking the whole Utah Tinder thing. I know people who have literally met the love of their lives on Utah Tinder. More power to them. I’d probably know  more people that met and married from Utah Tinder if they weren’t the “let’s tell everyone we met at a BYU game” type. I mean, what’s wrong with embracing the fact that you met on a dating app? It’s the way of the world anymore afterall.

But I digress. Tinder. Oh silly Tinder. Let me tell you how seriously I take Tinder. There’s a few decently acceptable pictures of me on my profile, followed by this bio: I’m a solid 2. Maybe a 2 1/2, 3 with the right lighting and instagram filter. You could definitely do better, and with a little effort you could do worse.

It’s fairly obvious that IDGAF at all about this. Truthfully, 90% of the time I spend on this is simply looking for the biggest creeps, so I can screenshot their profile and send it to a friend of mine who ALWAYS manages to outdo me with the female version of the biggest creeps on Tinder. Douchebags of Tinder we like to call it, and it’s fun as hell. Screenshot, swipe left, and repeat.

Those right swipes though….Do you know how flattering it is to have someone decide they want to maybe get to know you a little bit (Utah Tinder style) based on 6 or less picutres and about 30 words about yourself? It’s pretty damn flattering, especially for the girl who always hears “Can you hook me up with your friend? She’s hot!” So I right swipe every once in a while, and sometimes the winds of fate are shifted in the right direction and that guy has happened to swipe right on me as well. “You have a Match” Tinder says, and then the weirdness really begins.

With the exception of when I see friends of mine on Tinder I never send the first message to a match, because #introvert. Seriously though…that’s led to some interesting conversations, matching with friends on Tinder. Anyway…this weekend I was in the city, and though my phone decided I didn’t need any of the pictures I had saved to it to last long enough to post them, fortunately my brain does not forget so easily, and here’s a sample of this weekend’s adventures in Tinderland.

  • My wife is out of town for the next week for work. We have an open marriage, she just doesn’t know it. (And swipe left)
  • Looking for my eternal companion. (Best of luck my friend…best of luck.)
  • There was a dude who was naked in a bed with his motorcycle. That was entertaining A.F.
  • How about this message from a match who boasts fluency in sarcasm: “So, is low self esteem a problem for you or what? Like you’re definitely better than a 3, but I can’t date a girl with self esteem issues.” (Aww buddy…you looked so promising until you lied about the sarcasm thing. #unmatch)
  • And this: “So, does the carpet match the curtains?” My hair is green, and I don’t know why someone thinks this is even a question one can ask, but then the way I responded isn’t exactly acceptable either. My “Do you measure 8 inches like a real person or is it really 5 tops” response earned me an instant unmatch. Hey, if you can’t play with the big kids, don’t start that game with me.
  • I love curvy girls. Please tell me your location so I can come show you the time of your life. (Um…yeah, no….pretty sure calling me fat to get in my pants isn’t going to work to your advantage.)
  • Then I found yet another friend on Tinder again. That’s cool and all, but I think I’ll just be a big girl and ask him to grab a drink with me next time I’m in the area. We’re actually friends, so I don’t need a dating app to talk to him. We have Facebook for that.

There will be more Tinder fails in the future, that’s inevitable. With any luck they won’t be accompanied by a phone failure, because it’s truly so much more fun in picture form. Until then, I’ll just keep looking for a happy medium between Tinder Tinder, and Utah Tinder. I mean, I don’t think it exists, but what’s a single girl to do when she’s surrounded by married people?

So you think casual drinks are a thing

So you think casual drinks are a thing

coffeeCall me crazy (you wouldn’t be the first), but I was under the impression one could go grab a drink (caffeinated, alcoholic, or otherwise) with a friend without it being a big deal. Holy crap, was I ever wrong about that one. Turns out if your friends don’t have the same parts in their pants as you do, it’s more complicated than that. I don’t get it. I’ve literally known some of these people for years, decades even, and we can text, tweet, instagram, facebook, and snapchat to our heart’s content and it’s not a problem at all, but suggest chatting IRL, and something like this unfolds.

  • Me: Hey, let’s go grab a drink and chat. Wanna get a coffee later?
  • Them: I’m kind of in a relationship right now.
  • Me: Um…Ok, so am I….with coffee…and I was just wondering if you wanted to get together for a quick threesome.

Ok, maybe I don’t really throw that coffee threesome line out every single time, but I have used it before, and I still don’t get it. Since when did “Let’s go have a drink” become “I think you’re the love of my life and we should be together forever”? It’s a drink…with a friend. Is this just a Utah thing? Perhaps. I mean I know people who live here that are capable of understanding that drinks among friends aren’t an undying declaration of love, but as it turns out, those people have ventured outside of Utah as well.

So you think casual drinks are a thing? Well they are, unless you’ve spent a little too much time in the Beehive State. Eventually we’ll catch up with the times, but until then, apparently casual drinks are only for same sex friends, and other “outsiders” who realize that you can have coffee without commitment.

So you want to start a blog….again.

So you want to start a blog….again.

Confession time: I used to have one of those ever popular “mommy blogs” and I was horrible at keeping up with it. Why? Well, because life, that’s why. Recently though, I’ve discovered that I’m getting old (Oh the horror!), and I REALLY need an outlet for my crazy, for my ridiculous failures at adulting, and for the sometimes funny things I do. Will it be in any sort of order? Not likely. Will it always be funny? I highly doubt it. Will it contain things that make me (and sometimes other people) uncomfortable? Undoubtedly so. Could the format be better? You bet your sweet ass it could. Seriously, I’ve changed my mind on this several times in the last month since I decided I wanted to do it, and then there’s the fact that I really have no idea what I’m doing as far as the website design goes too. Stick around and try to be entertained. Sometimes I’m funny, and sometimes I’ll drag my friends in to post and add some class to this thing.