Motherfu#ker

At some point in every females life she will be a mom.  It could be a cat mom, a dog mom, a fish mom, a mom to barbies, a mom to their husbands or a mom to legit kids.

There are many different parenting styles out there and I have taken the time to compile the types of mothers there are in the wild.  Below you will find facts about the different characteristics that belong to each species.

The cheerleader: Often seen in the wild wearing her child’s school colors at sporting events.  Typically this mother pushes her young into several different sports because she knows deep down that they won’t be any good at school and god knows college won’t pay for itself. When agitated by unruly referees or opposing teams, these mothers will be seen throwing furniture, using foul language or engaging in other activities to demonstrate their distaste.

The vicarious one: This species comes in both male and female.  The vicarious one has a similar origin as the cheerleader. Typically the mother will force her young into sports or activities that she, herself, was unable to achieve when she was the age of her child.  These mothers can be seen wearing sweatpants with “Cheer Mom” on the ass in metallic print accented with rhinestones.

The mommy blogger: A hybrid between a self-righteous blogger and any other mother-type listed here.  Mommy bloggers have a network that they communicate with often referred to as a cult.  Unlike ordinary cults however, the mommy blogger cult is harder to get into.  They band together to judge you and tell you the consistency of their childs bowel movements and broadcast it to the internet. Mommy bloggers often take to raising their child on their own, without the help of a male figure.

The doctor: Not medically trained but well versed in medical jargon.  The doctor prides herself in diagnosing her children with illnesses that would otherwise be over looked by any trained medical professional.  The doctor has good health coverage and is on a first name basis with her chosen pediatrician and their respective staff, radiologist, pharmacist, and all other subsequent medical staff that tend to her child on a daily, weekly or monthly basis.  When diagnosing a woman as A Doctor, please take heed, there could be an underlying diagnosis of Munchausen by proxy.  Munchausen by proxy was brought to light by internationally acclaimed trailer trash, Eminem.

The feeder: Typically an emotionally detached mother who fills her children’s bellies with baked goods instead of their hearts with love.  These children will grow to be emotional eaters, go to college for art history and rack up $20,000 in debt on credit cards going to therapy and weight watchers.

 

Bloods or Crips?

I didn’t realized I lived in the hood until today.

I always kind of suspected it but it became clear today.

On my running trail there are a lot of loiterers. Typically I am the only white person out there. All jokes aside, I really am not racist.

No matter how many times I pass the same group of young males leering at me, I never get comfortable.

So today, on my run, I was rocking out to David Guetta (don’t judge me.  I dont judge you to your face, do not judge me) having a good time when I notice a young man on a bike.  I have my little wave and smile that says “I enjoy running from nothing” prepared when I notice that he is not sharing the path. So to accommodate i shift a little further to the right, hes on a bike and probably needs more room to move around than I do. He gets closer to my side of the path.  Then I realize that he is targeting me. He flys past me within 6 inches of my left arm and calls me a bitch.

Now keep in mind, I am not bothering anyone.  I was minding my own business on the right side of the path running along listening to bad dance music. I never did anything to him that would evoke such a reaction. In fact, I was overly accommodating.

Perhaps it was the way my shoes match oh, so perfectly to my iPod nano or maybe it was the kick ass kitten I have on my shirt that pissed him off. Or maybe it was the fact that my running shoes cost more than his bike, knock off ed hardy shirt and gold plated chain combined.  Ok, that was a little bitchy.  But it’s only actually bitchy if it isn’t true.

Since I had to come to a complete halt in order to save my own life I had to get back into my rhythm when I got back on the path. Going out I passed my neighbor.  His mom is missing teeth and his dad is very tall.  He calls his momma a “fucking bitch” in the parking lot. Coming back in i was tempted to ask if they saw the assailant. But then I realized…what would I say?

So I rehearsed in my head what I would say to this troubled young man.  Would I tell him that I forgot my anti-psychotics this morning and I will find his mother? Would I tell him that I understand he is upset because I am white but I cant help it and he needs to get over it? Would I use one of the sticks on the ground and whoop his little ass? Maybe I would treat him to a trip to Barnes and Noble where he could buy a book and educate himself on the proper way to share a bike path or the acceptable ways to address a woman in public? Or would i simply engage him in a staring contest because I would be too scared to actually say something.  So I practiced my evil eye behind my mirrored aviators the whole way back in.

Now that I have my look down, I hope we meet again but this time I will Tonya Harding his ass.