So, here we are at the beginning of the day, taking the picture facing the sun, so both kids are squinting, and I am forcing my eyelids open, so that I look younger and doe-eyed, because that’s our job as parents- take pictures of our kids facing the sun so that they are going blind, or covering their eyes in every one of them!

This was taken at Shouka Stadium, the Killer Whale show, where the trainer spent an extensive amount of time talking about “caring for Shouka”, and telling the audience that she’s so happy to see them that she is “dancing”, a.k.a. copying the trainer’s body movements in order to be rewarded with a slimy piece of Mackerel. Poor Shouka. Then at the dolphin show, the trainer went on and on about how dolphins are “always smiling”. No, they are NOT! Their mouth is shaped that way! They are like the Joker in Batman- they just look like they’re smiling, but really they’re pondering how they’re going to drown their trainer if she makes them spin the hoola hoop around their nose, or force them to ride her around like they’re a pair of waterskiis. Oh, how I missed when ignorance was bliss, and I watched the whale and dolphin shows in perfect belief that they were “saved and happy”.

Yes, these are my kids riding an elephant! No, we do not know the Dude or his kid riding with them. I thought it would be a rad photo-op to have my kids on an elephant, then the gal in charge of placing people onto “Tava”, stuck my kids with this other guy and his kid- oh, well. At least he was this big guy that could heroically rescue my children, should the elephant decide that he had had enough of riding bratty kids around and round on a dirt path in 90 degree weather, and decided to try to buck them off, or eat his trainer. So, it all worked out.

This was the Husband’s idea: there was this bridge that this water ride goes underneath, and as it does, it douces everyone standing on the bridge with massive amounts of water. So, he told our unsuspecting kids to go stand on the bridge to watch the boat and as it went by, it just blasted them with water! It was hilarious- fun at our kid’s expense- always a pleasure!

Thankfully, my Son has a good sense of humor, and is generally mild-mannered and easy-going (like his Mother). He takes his drenched shirt off, flashes devil horns, and smiles and says “Like a rockstar, Mom”! Uh….yeah! Like a rockstar! Whatever keeps you from crying and throwing a fit that your Dad tricked you into getting completely soaked and walking around the rest of the day in wet shoes! “You are a rockstar, Son”! I say, with lots of positive affirmation!

Alas, our day had come to an end. We had seen enough dolphins “smiling”, whales “dancing” and tigers that “loved the water” to last a while. Not to mention we had run out of cash, not figuring in the four sodas for $5.60 each, and the $46 lunch that consisted of microwaved chicken tenders, and frozen fish-sticks. But as the good ol’ Visa commercial says, a day with my family, in beautiful weather with lots of smiles: PRICELESS!

Last week, we had the priveledge of having an extended tour of a firestation. A customer of mine heard about my (Son’s) obsession with firemen and firestations, and offered for us to come visit at his. So, we took him up on it, and it was one of the funnest day trips I’ve had with my kids!

Clayton checking out the exercise equipment

"Driving" the fire engine!

Just in case you’re wondering why my kid is wearing pajamas- it was pajama day at school that day, and I was in such a rush and so excited to go to the fire station, that I forgot to bring her a change of clothes. Bad Mommy.

The kids got a ride on the golf cart- I did too! I jumped off just to take the picture!

Avery was running all around, and tripped and fell head-first into a mud puddle. She gets her gracefulness from me...

Me with my little fireman, and one mud-soaked Avery

My favorite Fireman- Fireman Dave

So, I don’t have another visit lined up to a fire station anytime soon, but in case you are thinking of coordinating one, let me know! I’d be more than happy to help chaperone…

So, I picked up my Daughter at Kindergarten yesterday, and she is so excited to see me, and gives me a big hug, and hands me this envelope. “I made mail for you, Mama! Open it!” She exclaims. I laugh as I look at the envelope, it is addressed to “Kristin” instead of “Mom”….pretty cute.

The outside of the card said “So Grateful”……awwwwww- so nice to be appreciated as a Mom! Here’s what the inside said:

WHAT????? “I don’t hit you!” I say to my Daughter, as my eyes dart quickly around the school play yard to see if any of the other Moms caught a glimpse of my “mail” . “You did too! You spanked me.” She is telling the truth. I know that everyone has very specific and strong opinions on corporal punishment, so save me the lecture, and the phone call to CPS. In our home,  spanking is the Granddaddy of all punishment, and is reserved for only the very worst of offenses. That particular morning, she had just been spanked for spitting at me and calling her Brother a jackass. But there is a big difference between spanking and hitting…. spanking is teaching a lesson and not done in anger, hitting is in anger, and something a parent only thinks of doing when their five-year-old spits at them when you tell them that it’s time to leave the McDonald’s Playplace. I digress…

“I do NOT hit you.” I explain to my five-year-old, whispering so that the other Moms and teachers can’t hear me. “If you are really misbehaving, you get a spanking, with an open hand, and not very hard…” I realize that I am trying to defend my actions to my five-year-old, then a horrible thought occurs to me: “ Oh, my God”, I think to myself, “who helped her write her “mail”, and saw this? They’re gonna think I’m beating my daughter- which I am TOTALLY not! How could anyone think I would hurt my kids? They’re gonna take my kids away ’cause I spanked them for saying jackass!!!!” My mind is reeling with all of the horrible possibilities….. I take a deep breath and quietly, and calmly ask, “Sooooo…..Did your teacher help you with this?” “No, I did it by myself!” She answers proudly, with a grin. A small amount of relief washes over me. “Wow- you spell really good!” I say, trying to find something encouraging to say to my kid. And ever since, I have been wondering what kind of character damage and psychological derrangment I have done to my kid by spanking. Images of Ralphie from “A Christmas Story” flicker in my mind- the part where he’s in a dream-sequence and he’s dramatically telling his mother he’s blind from the soap that she put in his mouth for saying the “F” word. I feel like the shittiest Mom ever…..

Interestingly, my Daughter made Daddy some “mail” too. His was addressed to “Daddy”, and said, “I love to play with you!” Seriously? Why do Daddies always get to be the nice ones?

Irony: an objectively sardonic style of speech or writing

You may not know me, but I want to take a sec to introduce myself.  My name is Amber, and I’ve been friends with Kris for eons.  I’ve known her for over 15 years, and I’ve championed her through some of the biggest accomplishments in her professional career–at a very young age.  I’ve danced on tables with her after one too many shots (and on stages with bands playing behind us, we were quite the show!), and I’ve howled at the moon with her on Saturday nights in our twenties.  She’s held me when I’ve cried and listened to me any time I’ve ever needed her.  We are women in our 30’s now, and we’re a little bit different, and we’re little bit the same!  I’ve probably seen her in a different light than most people have.  Long before she had two amazing, intelligent, and beautiful children to dote on–and before she married the man that would turn out to be her forever-partner in love and life, and the amazing father of those children.  I may be a little partial to those precious rug rats since I’m “Auntie Amber”, and it goes to show you–we’re all very partial and protective to what we know in our own lives.  The second someone or something threatens what we perceive to be our “domain”, we come out–arms swinging, teeth bared, and fists flying.  Because we’re just going with our gut and our God-given, natural instincts.  It’s only human nature and there’s no fault in that.

But let’s look at the word “domain” in a little different light here, and instead of thinking of the word “domain” as our homes or our families, let’s think of it as a website.  Like this one–Kicked Out of Mom’s Club.  It’s Kris’ domain.  It’s her house.  She makes the rules, she breaks the rules (and man, she does it well!), and she calls the shots.  She pays for the hosting and it’s maintenance fees, and she chooses what parts of her life she gets to bare her soul over.  Kristin doesn’t need defending, and trust me–I’m not even going there, because that girl can stand on her own two feet with the best of them!  But as someone who not only considers her a life-long friend and sister-from-another-mother, I’m also someone who works in social media on a daily basis and who owns several domains–(both personal blogs and professional websites) where I would never let a soul dictate what I do or say because they are my little snapshots of my own world!  I would never tell someone in their scrap-booking class that they couldn’t preserve the memories they want to keep how to paste them in their books, and with what captions they could write!

I know what it’s like to unintentionally offend people and I pay the price for it dearly–if you could only see the hate-mail I receive on a weekly basis.  And let me tell you, I’m not even openly writing about my personal life experiences with friends or family most of the time.  I’m writing about consumer-related experiences of products you use in your very own households on a daily basis, among other things that just don’t even warrant the kind of hateful “passion” I am bombarded with!  I GET IT, people are that passionate.  About EVERYTHING.  It’s our right!  But it’s also our right to turn the page, turn the channel, and just tune out.  It’s America, and as long as we aren’t defaming anyone’s character or slandering their name we are entitled and empowered to say whatever, whenever we want.  You say tomato, I say tom-ah-to, and the world will still turn.  The sun will STILL rise tomorrow, I promise you.

If anyone chooses to feel so offended about something that was meant to be a shared snapshot or perception, maybe they might be better served to pursue a way to express themselves that doesn’t try to control, threaten, or domineer someone else into doing or saying what they wanted to read.  Express yourself in any manner you see fit and tell the world about how YOU want to be seen, it’s your right.  Kristin does it, and she’s honest and true to herself, anyone who isn’t doing that in their own lives is really missing out on living.  Ironically, she is often the person she’s talking about!  She’s got the blonde bob, the Juicy Couture tracksuit, and Lancome Juicy Tubes to prove it.  She’s a card-carrying member of the same planet everyone else is on.  Kristin is not a conventional mother, and has never aspired to be one.  She’s not a bad person for speaking her mind or not “going with the flow”.  If anyone thinks any less of her as a mother or a human being for that matter–SO BE IT.  She will still live.  Her children will still be raised to the best of her abilities, she’ll continue to enjoy her life, she’ll still smile and laugh, and dance and sing her ass off any time she pleases–only to write about it without censor!  She’ll always be the tongue-in-cheek, painfully honest, often outrageous, unconditionally caring, and fun-loving person I’ve known for a very long time.  Sometimes even I don’t see eye-to-eye with her, and I love her and respect her all the same.

In closing, I want it to be known that I have actually encouraged Kristin to continue doing what she wants to do on Kicked Out of Mom’s Club–regardless of who becomes offended and who chooses to shrug it off like a good sport and take it for what it’s worth–FUN.  I’ve also encouraged her to replace any photos she’s taken down and blur out the faces of people who have made a choice to be offended.  You have a right not to want to be identifiable, I agree!  But you don’t have a right to dictate how Kristin chooses to preserve her memories, or what captions she decides to put in her public “scrapbook”, if you will.  She’s never been intentionally mean-spirited, or cruel, and she’s not out to get you–I promise!  If you feel that strongly about it, the chances are you might be reading a little too much into things.  I say that with the utmost respect for you.  Please don’t read into things that really don’t even exist, consider it coincidental if anything.

And honestly–(this comes from my mouth, not Kristin’s),  if any one person has that much of a problem with someone’s personal blog, you’re going to be extremely unhappy with how new media is taking precedence over traditional print media.  It’s not really a question of “if”, it’s really a question of “when”.  You’re not going to be happy at all then with just about anything you see online!  Long gone are the days when we were catered to and things were said so safely as not to offend a soul.  So don’t expect it from a blog– that’s for sure!  I merely ask you to take Kristin’s site for what it is: irony.  Nothing more, nothing less.  Please know, my feelings won’t be hurt if you don’t agree with me, because if you don’t–I probably don’t agree with you yet I still understand your plight.  But I wouldn’t tell you how to write your own biography, either!

(For even more offensive Mommy-blogging that will probably make your blood boil, I implore you to read Dooce.com!  It’s possible you might even get a new perspective on–oh…things like irony.)

Respectfully,
Amber
girlrunswithscissors@gmail.com

PS– I’m the person who encouraged Kristin to find her voice on KOMC last year, I even built the website. I’m also a card-carrying member of the same planet everyone else is on. Let’s move on and have fun!