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August, 2013

  • Rules Rules Rules

    You have to have rules for your kids so they don’t grow up to be douche nozzles.  You also have to have rules to protect your children from the temptations of the culture at large.  I think the influences of western luxuries are way more dangerous then a lot of the things we assume to be obvious “no no-s.” Most parents don’t let their kids play with sharp objects, but will let them devour genetically modified cupcakes frosted with high-fructose corn syrup.  Parents in Africa let their kids use machetes so I think they are a lot more capable then we give them credit for, but if you leave a bowl of M&M’s in front of a TV full of cartoons I think every kid could easily be seduced into a coma for the rest of the afternoon.

    But just because you have rules doesn’t mean your kid won’t question them or want to rebel against them.  And you have to have some sort of reasoning as to why you making these demands, because for your child it might seem arbitrary.  They want to know why you are imposing a tyranny on them.

    You can just say “because I said so” or “I make the rules” but I have taken another approach.  I have decided to not only explain my rational, but perhaps over intellectualize my thinking to the point where The Munch just gives up asking because she wants me to shut up.

    Example 1

    Munch: I want to watch a movie Mamma.

    Toni: No sweetie, you can only watch movies on special occasions.

    Munch: Why Mamma?

    Toni:  You see Munch, your brain is still a developing organ. In fact your frontal lobe won’t be fully matured until you are 25.  So when you watch movies, your mind is on idle.  It is a passive recipient for information rather than an active contributor.  Childhood is such a fragile state in your development, and I really think that the more time you spend exploring your imagination and cultivating your intelligence through actual experience the better you will be in the long run.

    Munch: Ummmm, okay.

    Example 2

    Munch: Mamma, can I have a treat?

    Toni: You know Munch, you had a treat yesterday and treats are for special occasions- so maybe tomorrow or the next day.

    Munch: But Mamma, I really want a treat!

    Toni: You see Munch, when the body has too much sugar the organs start to deteriorate and it effects how they function.  Sugar increases cholesterol, weakens your eyesight, interferes with the absorption of protein, impairs the structure of DNA, compromises your immune system, contributes to diabetes and candida / yeast infections- which trust me you really don’t want.  Sugar has a drastic impact on not only the functioning of your body, but also your emotional state of being and your mind.  It can make you cranky, unfocused, give you a sugar high and then you crash into a state of depression… it even affects your ability to learn.  Oh, and we can’t forget that sugar is also incredibly addictive so your body will crave it despite the harm it is causing, so it is really best to be moderate in your intake.

    Munch: Ummmmmm can you we go outside now?


  • Sometimes I Don’t Like People

    The other day a friend came to visit while I wasn’t feeling well.  That is a nice gesture right??  To come to the house of someone who may or may not have an infectious disease and show them love.  Oh, and I also owed her money…

    The Munch, who is usually pretty friendly and enjoys talking to my friends, was more reserved than usual.  My friend tried to engage her, but The Munch would just stare into the bowels of her being or hide underneath her umbrella.  Which she had opened in the house because she is a rebel like that!  After my friend left I decided to ask Munch about why she was so quite to see where she was coming from.

    Toni: Munch, did you like Mamma’s friend?

    Munch: Yeah.

    Toni: But you didn’t feel like talking to her, or answering her questions?

    Munch: No.  Not really.

    Toni: Were you feeling shy?

    Munch: No, not shy.

    Toni: Well what was going on?

    Munch: You know Mamma, sometimes I just don’t like being around people.

    Toni: Yeah, I hear you kid.


  • Please Distract Me From World War 3

    I think we all know that the whole Miley Cyrus debacle is mainly a distraction from the pending doom of WW3 and what is happening with the Syria crisis.  This looming chaos makes me want to scratch myself until I bleed.  There will be a lot of cascading consequences if the US attacks Syria.  When I think about this too hard I want to pick my scabs and listen to The Cure and forget any of this is even possible.

    I decided I would read a bunch of articles about Syria because it is important to keep myself abreast on these issues.  But after today I think I am more of an ass-woman. Every thing I read made me sweat and squirm in my chair.  Head lines like “U.S Attack Would Spark ‘Ball of Fire in Whole Middle East’ Syrian Official Warns” is pretty fucking terrifying.

    After an hour of “educating myself on the issues” all I wanted to do was read articles about what black lesbian dog owners with adoptive parents thought about the VMA’s.  I felt so powerless and wanted to distract myself with frivolous media.  Does anyone know if Jennifer Anniston is pregnant with a litter?

    This whole idea that war will end war is beyond absurd to me at this point.  Killing more people doesn’t address the root causes of why people are killing each other.  It is baffling that we spend so much money on warfare rather than saving the environment that we are destroying at an alarming speed, or distributing resources and wealth so there isn’t this massive discrepancy between nations.  I wish aliens would attack us so we would finally figure out that we are one HUMAN race on one PLANET earth and we need to protect the totality of our livelihood and home by cooperating.

    There are too many nuclear bombs and too much access to chemical warfare to be fucking around.  This isn’t the days where men battled face to face and the combat only affected those on the field.   Modern technology is fucked up and incredibly destructive to every living being on the planet.  Why do we have to wave our big dick weapons around still? Yeah, I get it… you all have big dicks and murderous weapons.  Great. Very impressive.  How about we focus on the bees dying or starving children instead?  I know when you break it down all war is motivated by money and the economy, but can’t we remember that money is just green paper? A mass illusion we introduced into the consciousness, and we are the only ones that give it value? Is this a real reason to become extinct as a species?

    As much as I want to know what is going on, I also would rather twerk my way into a mental oblivion.  What can I do that is going to do to make an impact on a system that is governed by its own agenda?    I think I am going tweet president Obama “Hey, I think chemical warfare sucks, but so does World War 3” and consider that my activism for the day and go back to watching MTV?  Sometimes I think having your head up your ass is the best approach.



    (Here are some links to make you want to vomit in your hands)


    August 28, 2013 • Current Events, Environmental Impact, Political Banter • Views: 2771

  • Twerking Boot Camp

    Miley Cryus is getting a lot of attention for her performance at the VMA’s where she was twerking in her underwear, and mock finger-banging her self with a giant Styrofoam hand.  The prevailing sentiments seem to be that Miley was being slutty, a bad role model for girls, boring, indecent, over-sexualized, immature, whorish, etc… but you know what? Everyone is talking about her and that is probably exactly what she was looking for.

    People may think that Miley Cyrus was exploiting herself, but she was also exploiting culture.  She is pandering to the fact that when girls do scandalous sexual acts people pay attention.  Wayyyyyyyyyy more so than when they do intelligent but understated ones.  Take for example how I will scroll down my Facebook feed and see a picture of a sweet teenage girl with glasses and a shy smile with a caption that reads “young high school student develops alternative fuel using only dust bunnies and scientific genius.”  Maybe 4 people will “like” it and one comment will read “nifty.”  But Miley Cyrus dry humps a grown man on stage while dancing like a stripper and it’s national news. And to be fair, no one is shitting on Robin Thick for being a pervert so the hypocrisy is evident there.

    Even if her actions were disturbing, they are still effective.  She is a sexy girl and wants people to notice her, so she does outrageous and sexy things.  It is a formula that works. Miley is not the first, and she wont be the last to use this strategy.  She wanted to shock the world with her daring activities and she knew that would keep her relevant in the media. Mission accomplished.

    But the truth is being provocative just isn’t that provocative anymore.  We have seen it all. Unless Miley Cyrus ejected a goat fetus out of her puss and then ate it, I am kind of numb to it all.  In a way we probably all are.  And thanks to the porno culture that dominates our western sexual-psychology it is easy to be jaded and unimpressed.

    The question isn’t “why the fuck did Miley do that,” because I blame her publicist and manager more than her.  They are grown ass adults who know better, and Miley (at 20 years old) is still developing her frontal lobe.  Maybe they should encourage her to work on her artistry more than her ass gyrating.  Like improving her singing and dancing capacities.  My question is more “why the fuck society doesn’t have the same fascination with smart women as they do with slutty ones?”  There are plenty of respectable and intelligent role models for girls out there, but they are not the ones being exposed to the mass public.  So what is the solution?

    And here it is.   I am going to start a non-profit called “twerking for smart chicks” where I teach those who are trying to be admired for their brains and accomplishments to learn how to twerk.  Twerking is hard on the thighs, so they will have to do a lot of training.  But through my twerking-boot camp these girls will soon get the recognition they deserve!


    August 27, 2013 • Current Events, Musings, Women's Business • Views: 3760

  • Little Girl, Grown Up Clothes

    The other day The Munch wanted to run through the sprinklers wearing her green-stripped bikini that my mom had bought for her.  I had never put it on her before, and noticed that the bottom was string bikini that tied on the sides.  The first thing I thought was “Jesus mom, this shit is scandalous!” But the Munch said “look Mamma, it is like a diaper the way you have to put it on me,” so already you can see we were coming from two very different places.  Her perspective was one born from total innocence, and mine through the lens of our over sexualized semi-perverted culture.

    As the Munch was running through the sprinkler, I was taking her picture because it was a precious scene.  My darling little girl was doing a classically childish act that I felt was worthy of capturing for all of eternity. But as I was looking at the pictures I couldn’t help but notice that some of her poses were sexy!  It was seriously traumatizing!

    Of course Munch wasn’t trying to be sexy, nor was she doing anything purposefully.  The idea that a child can look sexy is because an adult is attributing that quality to them.  I saw The Munch as sexy, she didn’t see herself that way.  The grown up clothes made an impact that I wasn’t prepared for.  But I was the one who let her wear the string bikini, and my observations are primarily my own projections.  It is not as if she has ever seen a Vogue magazine to emulate what sexiness is.  Munch has been incredibly sheltered and has had very little exposure to media.  But still, these classic poses where a female has her hand on a jutting-out hip has very specific connotations.

    If a man were to pose like that it wouldn’t be regarded in the same way as when a woman does it.  It is the woman’s body that betrays her.  The simple fact that she has the anatomy that she does puts her on display.    If I man were to sit on the subway with his legs apart that would be considered normal, but if a woman were to sit in the same fashion (even with pants on) it would be seen as sexual.

    Even though Munch is just a child, her femaleness is still reminiscent of the woman she will become.  Simply by being a little girl who is a shadow of her future self, the qualities that we affix on women can just as easily be applied to her.  And of course I have been on a feminist spiral of horror ever since.  It is all I can think about.  In our current cultural context a woman’s body is an object of sexuality.  And being a child doesn’t make you exempt from that.

    The only thing I can do for the Munch is delay as long as possible her seeing herself as a sexualized object, even if the world ultimately and inevitably will one day.  The longer I can protect her from this, the longer her childhood would be.

    (I really debated showing the pictures I am talking about… but I just couldn’t!! I am still too horrified! But the bikini says it all…)



    August 26, 2013 • 3 years old, Mommy Mind, Musings, Parenting, Women's Business • Views: 15526

  • The Appliance of DEATH

    Yesterday morning I was having breakfast with my dad when I saw him do the most unthinkable act.


    My Dad: WHAT?? WHAT DID I DO??

    Toni: Are you seriously going to put that in the microwave??

    My Dad: What? Yes! I am just heating up my milk for coffee so it’s warm.


    My Dad: Why not? I always use a microwave.

    Toni: Are you serious?? We need to get rid of that thing!!!!!!!

    My Dad: Oh no we are not!!!! Why, what is wrong with microwaves?


    My Dad: Jesus, Toni I would have to see how you would react to the rest of my life.

    Toni: Dad, I am not kidding, you can’t use those.  I am getting rid of it.

    My Dad: OH NO YOU ARE NOT! What is wrong with it? It gets my milk warm.

    Toni: They are dangerous!!

    My Dad: What do you mean?

    Toni: I mean I don’t know specifics but I know they aren’t good for you.

    My Dad: I think I will be okay.

    Toni: Dad, they take away all the nutritional value of what you are eating! The microwaves zap the nourishment away or something.  So you are taking this beautiful raw milk and then annihilating all the stuff that is good for you.

    My Dad: I don’t drink milk for it nutritional value, Toni, I just need it in my coffee for the taste.

    Toni: Dad, there are a lot of other things wrong with microwaves.  I just can’t tell right now because I haven’t researched it, but I know they are bad.  Lets just look on google for a minute.

    My Dad: Well, thank God the internet doesn’t work in the kitchen.

    Toni: Dad, you can’t trust anything that was popularized in the Regan years.  Just think of cocaine and Wham.  I mean you are in a time warp if you really think this is okay! Are you listening to Tears for Fears on your Walkman too?

    My Dad: Look Toni, I use the microwave everyday and that is just how it is.

    Toni: Well not any more Dad!


    Toni: Dad, it’s gone.

    Dad: Well what if I promise I won’t use it. Only for emergencies? But you can’t take it away from me!

    Toni: Well can I unplug it at least??

    My Dad: No!! It has a clock on it!!

    Toni: There is a clock on the oven Dad!!!

    My Dad: I need that one!

    Toni: Dad I will get you a clock and put it there!!

    My Dad: No! Every appliance needs a variation on time. The clock and oven aren’t even set on the right time, and I like it that way.

    Toni: Let me unplug it!

    My Dad: No this is a tyranny!!! You can’t make me live in a tyranny!!

    And you know what? I was right! Microwaves do take away all the nutritional value, and they create carcinogens in your food!! A cup of water that is microwaved and then used to water a plant with kill that fucking plant!!! I am taking that microwave Dad!! It is time to heat your milk on the fucking stove!



    August 23, 2013 • Eating, Environmental Impact, Family Drama, Talking and Not Talking • Views: 9707

  • My Buddy and Me

    Raising a toddler is intense.  It is an in-between phase of existence.  The Munch is not a baby, but will sure as shit will cry like one over the most trivial things.  “I want my pink sparkly shoes not my gold sparkly shoes. WWAAHHHHAAAAAAA” which makes me want to send her back to the baby factory and get a new model.  But at the same time, a 3-year old also has some capacity for reason, empathy, compassion, and intelligent conversations.  The person The Munch is going to be is starting to flower, although still speckled with the base primal impulses of her infant past.

    I don’t 100% trust her not to be a total dick at times, but now The Munch is at a stage where she is starting to be considerate.  It is like she is realizing that having a tantrum is not only boring and annoying for me, but also for her.  She gets the idea of being polite and patient.  So I like to bring The Munch with me most everywhere I go so she will be a part of my adult life and be exposed to my interests.  I can’t have her thinking all her mom is about is playing hide and seek.

    But the more adult things I bring her with me to do, the more I get to hear her understanding of the adult world.  For instance, yesterday I brought Munch to watch my dance class at the studio I own and as we were leaving all these people were smoking outside.

    “Mamma, I am so happy I love dancing with you.  And look Mamma, look!  Everybody out here is blowing stuff. Wow! Like dragons!”

    To her smoking was this mystical act where people where exhaling magic from their mouths.  It was a pretty beautiful understanding of this rather toxic and deathly habit.

    I then decided I wanted to watch the sunset and the full moon rise at the beach. So I packed up a dinner picnic and The Munch and I went on an adventure.  When we got there, it was so much more crowded than I thought it was going to be which made me irrationally irritated. Then The Munch started crying because I brought the wrong bathing suit and I kind of wanted to throw her into the woods.

    Toni: Dude, are you seriously going to cry over what bathing suit to wear.


    Toni: It is kind of embarrassing with all these gross snobby people looking at me because you are crying.  Wouldn’t it be more fun to not cry and eat our picnic and enjoy life?

    Munch: Ummm yes.

    So we ate our dinner and luckily everyone started leaving. It was just me, The Munch, and the sunset. We went for a swim, and I swam out to the raft and showed The Munch my backflips off the high-dive.  You know, because it’s important to show off to my 3-year old.

    Munch: Mamma those backflips are so cool!

    Toni: I know, right? Sometimes Munch, you got to just do.  It’s important for Mamma’s to know they still got it?

    Munch: Yeah.  When I get bigger, I will do that too.

    Toni: You sure will.

    Munch: I like watching the sunset with you Mamma.  When I get bigger, I am going to go all the way over there, and I am going to be in the sunset.

    Toni: You are going to go all the way to the sunset?

    Munch: Yup.  I am going to go far far away.  And you see where the sun is about to disappear? That is where I am going to go!

    Toni: I think that is a really good idea. If anyone can get to the horizon, it’s you.

    Munch: Look Mamma a star!

    Toni: You know, you are supposed to make a wish on the first star of the night.

    Munch: I wish that the sunset will never end.

    Toni: But you know what? We can go watch the moonrise??

    Munch: The moonrise! That is so silly!

    Toni: I know, but it’s a full moon tonight

    Munch: Where does the moon rise?

    Toni: Behind us.  The sunsets over there to the west, and the moon rises behind us to the east.

    Munch: That is so cool! The sun sets and the moon rises!

    Toni: Lets go watch!

    Munch: Look the moon!!! The moonrise is so pretty!

    Toni: Isn’t it?

    Munch: When I get bigger I am going to go to the moon!

    Toni: I know you are Munch.

    Sigh…. I didn’t have the heart to tell her the moon landing was a hoax.


  • Isn’t Keeping You Alive Enough?

    When you invite an animal into your home, you are also inviting the swarm of responsibilities that goes along with it.  Once you “own” a pet, you also have to own up to taking care of them.  Of course, there is a certain satisfaction in tending to another being.  When I feed my dog and cat, I know that no matter what, I accomplished something that day. I kept my animal alive with the two seconds it took to bend over and pour some pebbles into a bowl.  I am a good person and I do stuff.

    But there are also complex parts of owning an animal that you must deal with – like their shit.  Chances are that if you have a pet, you are going to have to negotiate their feces from time to time.

    My dog Mona is 12; so on most occasions her bowels are her own private business.  I always have a door to my house open, so she can come and go as she pleases and open her asshole to expel its contents at her leisure.  But sometimes, every once in a while, shit goes down.

    Example 1: I was sitting on the couch watching “Curb Your Enthusiasm” when I smelled something – the unmistakable scent of defecation.  I looked down, and Mona was lying by my feet innocently… but I knew she wasn’t.  I looked at her asshole and there it was.  A hanger – a piece of shit that had not been pushed out fully, and was just hanging on for the ride.  I ran to the kitchen to get a paper towel because I knew what I was in for.  I was going to have to pull this shit out.  This has happened before, however, and I figured it was only slightly stuck.  But then I started to pull, and pull, and pull, and pull, for a disturbing amount of time.  I pulled a 6-inch string of shit out of my dog’s butt before it was over, and I am still having nightmares about it.

    Example 2: I woke up this morning with the aroma of caca wafting into my face. The stench was so putrid I had to gag.  I looked over and right by my door was a trail of wet crap. I then saw Mona cowering in the corner and knew that she was the obvious culprit, and I was not to blame for this atrocity.

    Beyond the fact that I was dry heaving, there were the problems that complicated this scenario.  It was early so my eyes were hardly opened, my mind was bleary from the medication for my shingles, and the shit was right in front of the door. Meaning there was no way to get out.  If I opened the door too far I would scrape the shit and smear it everywhere, not to mention have shit on the bottom edge of my door, which would be really hard to clean.

    There was also a table in my way making it even more difficult to get out and not step in doo-doo.  I could open the door the barely 5 inches before it made contact. So I had to Cirque du Soleil over the bum-paste, pass the table, and then slide out the door like I was Casper the Friendly Ghost just barely grazing the door with the first mound of droppings.  Then of course I had to slink back in, and pick up enough butt-stuff where I could open the door wide enough to dispose of it.

    You are lucky I was too tired to get out my phone do document this event


    August 21, 2013 • Family Drama, Pee & Poop • Views: 1260

  • Popping Bottles With My Dad

    The other day I was playing with The Munch outside my parent’s house, and noticed my dad in the porch.  I figured he should come outside and keep me company….

    Toni: Dad, come outside and talk to us.

    My Dad: I am just opening the wine in the porch. Be right out.

    Toni: Well why don’t you do it out here?

    My Dad: You are right, and I can get Munch to help me.  She likes popping the corks out of wine bottles.

    Toni: Wait what?  You have been “popping bottles” with my 3 year old before? Enough to know she likes it.

    My Dad: Yeah why?

    Toni: Nothing.

    Munch: Babba, I want to play hide and seek with you!

    My Dad: Okay.

    Toni: Awwwww, that is sweet.  You have played hide and seek with her before?

    My Dad: This is my strategy.  I tell her, ‘I am going to sit right here, in the same place.  Then, you go hide somewhere, close your eyes, count to 20, and come find me!’

    Toni: That is seriously how you play hide and seek?

    My Dad: Yeah! That way I never have to get up! I just say ‘where is Adelia,’ and she comes and finds me!

    Munch: Okay Babba lets play! 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10,11,12,13,16,17,18,19,20!!

    My Dad: Where is Adelia? I can’t find her anywhere? Where is she?

    Munch: Here I am!!!

    My Dad: There you are! Now do you want to help me open this wine? I will let you pop the bottles!

    (I have to say, even thought my Dad’s strategy of playing hide and seek is totally lame, it actually totally works.  Click munch hide and seek to watch.




    August 20, 2013 • 3 years old, Family Drama, Talking and Not Talking • Views: 1357