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.
I guess the real question is, would you have to look for me in the fetish section, too? May 16, 2010
#Fitness#Weght Loss and Body Image
A few weeks ago, I attended an amazing panel about our girls being “sexy too soon” by Parent Map. I was asked to tweet about the event during the discussion and received a ton of great feedback via twitter regarding the content of the session. It was well done and truly full of wonderful ideas to reach out to our girls.
As I grabbed the courage to stand and ask a question, an Asian lady stood up before me to ask hers. “It’s taken us two hours and we haven’t talked about race,” she said. The room fell silent. The all white panel stammered. “Um, yea…” The question-asker went on, “You know where my husband has to go find porn that looks like me? The FETISH section. That’s because we over-romanticize and sexualize our...
Mother’s Day 2010: Epic Awesomesauce May 10, 2010
Mother’s Day started early. Saturday night my friend Ashley picked me up in her awesome mobile to head to our favorite local restaurant.
We met Trix there and she totally smelled my hair.
It was great girl-time in which we talked about wine and sex and being a mom. Not in that order. Or maybe in that order. I forget because the wine was first.
The next morning I woke up to flowers, cards, and the Sunday Paper. I love the Sunday Paper. I love that I look studious while perusing the Target Ad.
We went for a hike near our home. The kids ran ahead because they aren’t old enough to realize you still have to actually walk BACK to the car.
Silly kids. They never learn.
This is shortly before the Two Year Old lost his mind because his feet stopped working.
I make a terrible fairy-tale princess, a crappy mormon, a shitty buddhist and a worse country wife May 07, 2010
We have mice. When I tell this to people they laugh. “Welcome to the country,” they say. They tell me to get a cat. They tell me this is part of being surrounded by all this land.
Last night we saw a mouse. Instead of being the calm, rational person “they” expect me to be, I jumped on a chair while yelling, “KILL THE FUCKER” and simultaneously pouring a glass of wine. It was not my proudest moment.
My daughter has lived with invisible mice for nearly three years. It started one night after introducing her to Cinderella. I asked her doctor about it when one cute “invisible mouse” turned in to two years, a million mice, and actual conversations between them. My daughter often draws all of her mice in her pictures, a group of small circles...
Moms, Business, Family and Pepperidge Farm May 06, 2010
I don’t always believe in Fate. I want to keep my life organized in such a way it does not possibly involve anything other than my own strength. But sometimes I have to confess that there are strong coincidences that can not, nor should be, over-looked. I had no idea this post would be one of them.
When Blog Nosh Magazine came to me with an offer to read about and reflect on the founder of Pepperidge Farm, I said yes without truly understanding the impact this would have. I did not know I would lose my job this week, nor could I have known how much I would identify with Margaret Rudkin. Truly, I did not appreciate the exact timing of such an offer.
I do now.
Sitting in my “Mommy Time Out”, reading over the tale of how Pepperidge Farm began, I found myself...
Mommy Time Out May 05, 2010
I’m sitting in mommy time out. The children are on their beds reading. Supposedly. Since my last post wherein I promise to be funny at least two more times, a lot has changed. The last few months have cumulated to this one night wherein I totally lose my shit on the children during bath time.
And now I sit in time out.
I can point to a variety of excuses, reasons, I’m feeling so… Off. So.. Depressed. So… Tired. I acknowledge my depression, my monster-in-the-closet that is mostly kept at bay 99% of the year. I recognize this huge success that only 1% of the time I find myself wanting to stay in bed, drink too much wine, sit and ignore the world. I’m living that 1% right now and I hate it.
I can blame the tumultuous housing market, our condo that is for sale...
How to not write like a douche Apr 28, 2010
#Life#Mother F.U.C.K.E.R.#Rants and Raves
Listen up, Blogosphere. This is part 1 of a 3 part series.
That’s right. What I have to say is so important, I am going to do it in three installments. This? Is number one.
Here is a short post on how to not write like a douche.
Its is possessive. The book is torn and its page is wrinkled.
It’s is a contraction of it and is. It’s about to rain.
You’re vs Your
Editors note: This one makes my tongue curl to the back of my throat and sputter strange noises only gophers understand, so listen up.
You’re is a contraction of YOU and ARE. You’re going to DIE when I tell you this!
Your is possessive. Your husband is getting you beer.
(Maybe you’re still confused? Go here.)
Their, There, They’re
Their is possessive. Their dog...
I started Weight Watchers last week possibly not a day too soon. Apr 25, 2010
#Fitness#Weght Loss and Body Image
About a week ago, I decided to join Weight Watchers. I’ve posted a lot of my weight loss struggle here, and as it turns out, I’m still at the exact.same.weight I was after having losing the Man Child’s pregnancy weight.
That very same Man Child, the apple of his Mother’s Eye, announced something last week:
It’s a good thing I started counting my “points” and started watching what I eat. “Watching” is the optimal word here. I haven’t actually made any changes this week, I just sort of called this week “Learning What Goes In To My Body” week.
Holymotherofperl people. I eat a lot of points.
And apparently, like golf, you want less points in this game.
In an odd way it’s comforting to...
Sometimes you just have to laugh Apr 24, 2010
One of the greatest joys of having children is how they “keep you young.” (And by that I mean give you gray hair and wrinkles).
My children come from a long line of silly.
Their dad and I are silly.
Their Grandpa and Grandma are silly.
Their Pappa and Oma are silly.
I sort of love that it runs in their genes.
(heh. I said “runs in their jeans.”)
Because some days, when things hit the fan, some days, it’s the only thing that can save you.
Diner: As inspired by Scrubs from Mrs. Flinger on Vimeo.
*Yes, I’m re-posting this video. I just wanted to watch it again today and figured HEY! Maybe your day sorta sucks and needs something fun to watch, too!
Flinger FAQ Apr 21, 2010
#Life#Getting to know me#The Flinger Family
It’s been a long time that I’ve been blogging in this little space. There are a lot of things you already know about me. You know more about my womanly cycle than I do most of the time and you know how to talk my engineer husband in to getting a vasectomy. You know the day I knew I would marry him and you knew the day I peed on a used pregnancy test and called the doctor sobbing because I wasn’t ready for another baby. You were with me during the miscarriage and the next pregnancy and celebrated his birth with us. You waited with us while he learned to breath and grow big enough to come home.
And yet, you still have questions.
I have answers.
Is your last name really “Flinger”?
No. But I do accept mail at that name.
Why Flinger, then?
When I first started...
I asked for a barn.. I got a barn. Apr 18, 2010
A long while back, I asked for a barn.
Today, I have a barn.
There’s something about moving to “the country.” And by “something” I mean A HECKOFA lot of work.
There’s the septic system that can be blocked by trees.
There’s the old kitchen oven that may or may not work.
Perhaps you lose a hen. Or two.
There’s the riding lawnmower that worked.. once.
There’s the weeding, the garden, the broken chicken coop.
There’s the jeep hand-me-down that has a dead battery and YET! We somehow manage to love it.
All 1.0 acres of unkempt house and yard is ours.
With our very own barn.