Mrs. Flinger: A work in progress

Fixing Mrs. Flinger Feb 20, 2015

I'm currently working on this website. I want to add back the links to blogs I love, some ways to find content easier, and put in archive, at last, some of the ancient articles. Come back to see updates.

Hidden (or not so much) messages of Motherhood Aug 10, 2009

#Family Life

Hidden (Or not so much) Messages from Mrs. Flinger on Vimeo. (Sometimes I just can’t help myself) Read more

Ellis Aug 09, 2009

#The College Angsty Years

I have a sound clip from 1997 that features my college roommates and I interviewing each other on “what we wanted to be doing in five years.” I’ve stumbled across that clip a few times since graduation, always giggling to myself and wondering if any of the other girls thought about those goals. (1997) “I’ll probably be teaching” G stated, matter of fact. (She was.) “I’ll be hiking or something,” Nicole mused. (She was.) “I’ll be servicing humans,” (insert fits of laughter here for our Human Service Major friend wasn’t kidding) Paige giggled. “I’ll be… um…” I offered. And this is how my young adult life started. (1997) (1999) We’ve since gone on to graduate school,... Read more

In the quest of the perfect eyebrow Aug 08, 2009

#Side Notes

I only started plucking my eyebrows in my late twenties. As in VERY late twenties. As in, I was already a mom and labeled thus, “mother plucker” my Mr. Flinger. When it comes to beauty, I’m at a loss. Makeup? Learning how to apply that still. Hair? Well. I can blow dry! But as my friend Michelle stated in exasperation, “You don’t even have the RIGHT kind of flat iron.” I didn’t realize they went out of style. And apparently, I have an old style, the big one? With the FLAT IRON? :: shrugs :: Since 2004 when I started the quest for the perfect eyebrow I have done a lot of research. I’ve polled readers. I’ve goggled “how to pluck your eyebrows you stupid later bloomer.” I’ve even started a PhD in Plucking hairs (for)... Read more

Words We Aren’t Allowed to Say Aug 05, 2009

#Family Life

Words. They can be powerful. They can be meaningless. They can send chills down your spine. They can go in one ear and out the other. Perplexing, yes? Or is that just me getting all giddy to use a word like “PERPLEXING.” Probably. So why is it that we have all these “RULES” about words? They’re just… words. Meaningless until someone attaches a feeling around it. We’ve called my daughter, “Stinker” her whole life. We’ve called her “Pooper” “Pooper scooper” (honestly, I have no idea why, but it’s a term of endearment, I swear) and “Stinker Butt.” We rarely call each other our real names in this house at all, actually. “Man Baby!” “Buddy” “Babe”... Read more

My snatch got stuck Aug 03, 2009

#Family Life

So I was talking to some good friends and one mentioned, “You know what I miss? Sneezing without having to tense up my cooter before hand.” And I joined in, “Oh, I KNOW!” But! BUT (There is always a but in there somewhere) “YOU didn’t even have to blow out your snatch.” I reply, “I know, dude. I know. My snatch got stuck.” We all have these wonderful visions of labor and delivery when we’re huge pregnant for the first time because it’s LOVELY! And NATURAL! and HOLY MOTHER JUST GET THE BABY OUTTA MY UTERUS. So we think of the wonderfulness of pushing, just like in the movies, a brand new four month old baby outta our snatch. And then reality. I labored for nearly 24 hours with my first. Her head got so jammed in to my... Read more

Community Aug 02, 2009

#Family Life

I watch the clock. 12:24. 12:25. ... My daughter rambles on in the back-seat about her hair and her dress. “AnnaBella is going to LOVE my dress, Mommy!” She has no idea what a failure I am. She chats on and on about her invisible mice and her dress and her school friends and whose birthday it was today and whose birthday is next. I can barely hear her beneath my own self talk, “Great Big Parenting Fail. Can’t get child to a single thing on time, let alone a birthday party within two hours of the start. Well done, loser.” I grab my iPhone, shaking the GPS one more time. I know where I’m going. I thought I did, at least. But the streets aren’t looking familiar. We arrive, at last, as the sound of “Happy Birthday” pours out the open... Read more