Mrs. Flinger: Based on a True Story

Layoffs 18/Aug/2009

#Family Life

I’m handing out pink slips.

Tiny pink slips to parts of the list, the giant list of “things I do.”

Tiny pink slips to excuses.

Tiny pink slips to not setting expectations.

Tiny pink slips to missing out on field trips.

Tiny pink slips to quick dinners and faster bed times.

Tiny pink slips to the constant glow of the computer screen.

At the end of the day I often hear, “but you’re your own boss,” and I puzzle. I am?

No.

I have people, clients, friends, websites. I have a husband who enjoys seeing me and children who need me.

I am my own boss but I share the load.

And these people don’t let me lose focus.

Read more

Stage 2: Inspiration 16/Aug/2009

#The Liberal Years

The continued story of how I decided to live barefoot:
Prefix: The Acorn and Me
Stage 1: Stage 1: Realization

Through the year and a half I was in Texas, a dynamic shift occurred in both my physical self, my group of friends, and my relationship with God. I began the year teaching preschool at a non-denominational church with every intention to get a master’s degree in Elementary Education. The experiences I had that year led to my rebellion. “Rebellion” that is.

As I processed the difference between my home in Bellingham, the mountains and parks, and my new home in... Read more

Thirty Days is a really really really long time 15/Aug/2009

#Side Notes

It’s hard enough to hit a goal of “doing pilates/yoga for thirty days” without other stuff getting in the way. It’s hard enough to tell yourself that on this lunch break you will spend the first 45 minutes of that hour in downward dog watching your arms shake while you hold your tummy in tight and will yourself to be stronger, leaner, meaner. It’s hard enough to choose to twist your body and flex your ab muscles (wait, ARE those ab muscles?) instead of grabbing a coffee and working.

image

So when my ovaries grew to the size of a small state and began to ache, I mean, explode, I knew my plans were for not. Of course, I... Read more

The Brand of Me 13/Aug/2009

#Family Life

It’s been coming to this for a long time, this merging of me vs me. I’ve pretended to be different: Professional Me and Personal Me. But honestly? I am only one person, not two threaded halves.

I am a multitude of rolls, but I am just me. I am as transparent and as open as anyone can be, equally giving way to hurt and laughter and insecurities and strength. I’m open to accepting new ideas, I love my family and my work and I give people the benefit of the doubt to an almost gullible level.

I am what I am and that’s all that I am. (Picture me giving you the pop-eye here. Or, in my case a “Pirate Eye.”)

Eaaeyyyyyy

It sounds old and cliche, but it’s taken me six years of Internet Identity to figure out that I’m... Read more

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

#Family Life

Hidden (Or not so much) Messages from Mrs. Flinger on Vimeo.

(Read more

Ellis 09/Aug/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.

Us_June97_2
(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... Read more

In the quest of the perfect eyebrow 08/Aug/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... Read more

Words We Aren’t Allowed to Say 05/Aug/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. “Read more

My snatch got stuck 03/Aug/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... Read more

Community 02/Aug/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... Read more