I don’t fit in well in the suburbs. Actually, let me rephrase that: I don’t fit in well in the mini-van lane in the suburbs. I’m not sure I’d do much better anywhere else, but I have my sneaking suspicions that the suburbs weren’t quite prepared for the pilgrimage of one Aunt Becky and her Merry Band of Sausages. It’s not that I haven’t tried because I have, Toy With Me-ers, I have, I swear on my pan of burnt brownies, but it’s just one of those geometry theories where A is NOT equal to B. In this case Aunt Becky is NOT equal to her suburban counterparts (although I do have like two friends)(TWO!)(but we’re not like FRIENDS)(GOD, that sounds sad)(want to be my friend?)(IT MAKES THE FRIEND ON THE INTERNET OR IT GETS THE HOSE AGAIN).
They’re fine, I’m fine, we’re just not the same. It’s that old Sesame Street song, “One of these things is not like the other,” or some shit. I have to believe that somewhere, lurking in the shadows and furtively drinking whiskey from sippy cuppies at play dates, there has to be some other like-minded mommies and daddies that I could probably befriend, but they can’t advertise themselves anymore than I can. Instead, I try my best to fit in for the sake of my kids while remembering that not everyone peppers their vocabulary with “motherfucker.” It’s not easy.
Suburbanites Are Zombies
Most of the problem is that I have a sneaking suspicion that suburbanites are zombies in disguise. That’s probably faulty logic because I’m a suburbanite and I can barely choke down chicken, let alone brains, but it’s just that it’s so DULL out here. When the biggest accomplishment we can discuss is what my kid did at school, you know life has gotten L-A-M-E spells “motherfucking pathetic.” But that’s what suburbanites DO. We putter around our lawns (you should SEE my rose garden. No seriously, it’s amazing) and we fantasize about new siding for our house (yellow is NOT a good color for a house, let me TELL you from personal experience) and then we go to bed to wake up to do it all over again. You say calm, I say ZOMBIES.
I used to have a life, I promise you, and I fully intend to get it back because this rose garden shit may be kind of awesome (I am a wicked gardener), but so are crystal-studded ball gags and sex swings. Which is why I have developed a Master Plan. It’s time for a massive reinvention.
Gay Men And Leather
Starting with a convention that Your Aunt Becky is going to this weekend. A convention in the city composed of primarily gay men in my fair city (of Chicago) where my suburban counterparts would be flabbergasted by what goes on. Hell, I don’t even know what’s going to go on, but I do know that it will be full of the awesome. There will be a full leather market, lots of my gays, and oodles of debaucerous behavior that I can only dream of. I would SO bring you all if I could because OBVIOUSLY this is going to be beyond full of The Awesome.
The Wheels On The Bus Go Round And Round
I realize that as parents we sort of have to split ourselves in two pieces to retain part of ourselves and be an effective parent at the same time. I don’t know about you, but I wasn’t born to love The Wiggles and Dora the motherfucking Explorer, but I know that being all emo about it isn’t really worth it either. I think kids SHOULD be allowed to love that sort of stuff because they’re kids, and even though it sort of makes me want to stab an ice pick into my ear, it’s not all about me. I’m not a hipster parent and I can sing a MEAN version of Wheels on the Bus for four or five hours, but I can also get down (get down) to some of the raunchiest of the raunch on the next breath (when my kids are, of course, safely out of earshot. I don’t need to scar them any more than I already do by being, well, me).
Hey, I Sacrificed My Crotch
I just couldn’t possibly go through my life as one or the other: Aunt Becky OR Mom because I’m both at the same time. I’m less conflicted about it than I used to be and it’s certainly not a perfect union of the two halves because clearly, I’ve been in Mom mode for too long. It’s time to resurrect Aunt Becky from the ashes and bring her really back. Because if going away for a couple of days on my cruise has taught me anything at all, it’s this: I can be a better parent when I have the chance to really and truly get away. It certainly won’t always be possible because how often do I get a chance to go to this kind of convention? (answer: not NEARLY often enough). But when the opportunity presents itself, I will move heaven and earth to do it. My kids are worth it, and more importantly, so am I. I sacrificed my crotchal region, my body, and almost all of my time for them for so long that it’s time for me to take some of that back.
The zombies in suburbia (not the two friends I have in town, mind you) probably won’t get why would be important, and I wouldn’t tell them anyway, mostly because I don’t talk to them, because it would blow their minds. Actually, I have a feeling this might blow MY mind a little, which is good. My mind could use a little blowing these days. It’s been far too quiet for far too long.
So this is Your Aunt Becky, trying to make some motherfucking lemonade from some motherfucking lemons. I have a feeling it’s going to taste FABULOUS. Especially if I add some vodka.
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{ 34 comments… read them below or add one }
The problem I've noticed as many of my friends have moved into this stage of their life is that the urge to let your 'freak flag fly' can get pretty intense. This isn't relegated to suburban life either. Young professionals moving in to the work force have to shut that part of themselves down as well.
As for solutions… maybe some variation on the hanky code? Red bandana means you like to swear a lot while yellow means you're fond of drunkenly groping scantily clad gay men.
Better hand me a rainbow bandana then….
Yeah, I think I should take one of those too!
I'll bring the rainbow bandanna and let it FLY, baby. The old me has got to let the new one let her freak flag fly.
On a completely unrelated note… I must say I totally <3 the "it gets the hose" reference… My status on FB this morning:
it puts the coffee in an IV and hooks it to my veins… it puts the coffee in my veins or it gets the hose again…
I really, really need a coffee IV. Or a Vicodin one. WHATEVER.
I just went to a strip tease class this weekend. And although I cannot talk about that with the other moms at my daughter's school, it did change my life.
After almost four years as "Mom", I was "hot mamma", and I liked it. I kind of justified it saying it was for my husband (Valentine's day is in 10 days, as I live in Brazil), but it was for me. I lost 17kg in 6 months, and I just had to see how my new body would look like shaking in sexy ways in a room full of mirrors. The fact that I was surrounded by really good looking woman (some pros too), surprisingly helped creating a great effect. There was a lot of beautiful flesh exposed, and some of it was mine. It was wonderful. I can go back to being myself after this first step. Hope everyone can have this chance.
Congrats on the new you!! What a awesome way to celebrate yourself, sounds like something all mom's should take part in. Perfect way to remind us that we are women as well as mom's.
I like you, Hot Momm.
Now there's a convention all bloggers should attend – content for months once you're done. P.S. I would love a very large pitcher of your motherfucking vodka spiked lemonade.
I remember, not in the terribly distant past, feeling very repressed and like an outsider who must be the only one thinking this place was some sort of restricted zone and I was a freak caught in it. When I finally couldn't take any more and just unleashed the Wicked, deciding I am the girl I am, they can like me or avoid me, but either way, what the hell difference does it make, I don't care much for them, ya know??!! So, I just speak my mind. Say whatever I think, sometimes maybe not so edited, but not around kids, because I do have some common sense, tyvm. I quickly learned a few things. 1)Suburbia is full of us. They just need someone to step out of the shadows. 2)It's also full of judgemental douchebags, you most likely already figured out who they are anyway 3)None of it matters as long as your happy
Yes. Yes. Yes. The more I think about it, the more I realize that I've got to be me, no matter what. Period.
You nailed it Shawn! #1 – I could not agree with more, so very true. I think a lot of my suburban friends like me because I am who I am. I'm not afraid to be myself and say what I feel. Also true, there are some douchebags. Usually they are the ones who are most miserable and make themselves feel better by judging others, what a waste of time. #3 – Perfect!! Thanks for sharing
stay away from those that bear the puffy vest. THIS is *exactly* the shit i'm talking about!
Bwahahaha!
Zombies! Yes. That’s totally it. When trying to relay park and playdate outings to childless friends I can never think of a good way to describe the other parents. Usually I call them Stepford Wives. It’s like a whole boring secret club that I can’t join. Good thing I don’t particularly want to. One of my childless friends tells me I should be careful not to drink the kool-aid. Perhaps I should bring some of my own lemonade and share.
I've really tried to fit in because I'm kinda lonely and I like people. I'm not so much a hermit (it would be WAY easier if I was) and I don't have an outside-the-house job I can go to that fulfills my human interaction quotient. I mean, The Internet is great, but I don't SEE you people. I want PEOPLE.
BRAAAIIIINNNNSSS.
Truth be told I kind of have that urge to try to fit in. I think it’s human nature. To want to belong. I don’t work outside the home either. So I have very little human interaction outside of going to the park etc. Thankfully I do have a handful of friends from my pre-kid days that didn’t disappear when I had my kids. I think the thing that keeps me from trying too hard to “assimilate” is I lost myself once and now that I’ve found me again I refuse to let go. But as my kids get a little older, and their need to fit in becomes more of an issue, I can see that changing too. Obviously the other parents are going to be reluctant to let their kids come home from school with the kid whose mom listens to Disturbed in the pickup lane at school and openly admits dear god she wants a margarita at childrens birthday parties, etc. I agree with the others. There are probably way more of us “outsiders” than it seems, they are just way better at blending in than I am.
I think if I could go to a IML convention, I would be so happy that I would cry tears of joy. Although there are gay men in my town, as far as I know there are no IML conventions here and even if there were I don’t think my husband would understand. The only gay man I know personally is my teen-age son, and I am not even going to think about that possibility. I don’t think he is into leather, since he is a college student and currently unemployed. Wouldn’t that would be freaky if I found him there? I am an older, currently unemployed mommy who has been hiding her Darker (Fun) side for a long time. There is no one that I can discuss my love of horror movies with. Last year I used to go to meditation class and then come home to watch Dexter. As my dark passenger started to take over, I thought this is just too weird. So I quit meditation class.
I fantasize about Dora going down the wrong path one day and getting bitten by the motherfucking snakes…
I always try to picture people I meet at the playground wearing gimp outfits. It makes playdates way, way more entertaining.
Try it.
Ward, don't you think you were a little tough on the Beaver last night? (The dirtiest thing said on TV in the 60s)
I'm sorry do I know where you live? WHY YES I DO! I am surrounded by sage green mini vans and hedge clippers. HEDGE CLIPPERS. I get little packets of TIDE with my sunday paper. I'm sure the TIDE is to clean out the blood from the zombies feast on Saturday nights. I'm sure of it.
A favorite comedian quote – "Ladies, if blood stains are a major concern, LAUNDRY may not be your biggest problem."
I always thought about kids scraping their knees and then a female friend mentioned the bloody gash connection… that joke wasn't as funny… ok, maybe a little.
While I may not have kids yet, I can assure you I will be the same type of mom. My friend and I always joke about how I will be getting phone calls from the school principal about how my child used profanity again, to which my retort will be, "Well, you know– shit happens."
The mums in my sons year are 50% zombies, 2% normal and 48% evil ancient bitch Slags from hell. For some reason the average age of the kids in his year is 38ish, with a good portion of the bitch slags from hell being waaayy into their 40′s. Nothing wrong with being an older parent apart from the fact the bitch slags from hate me, lol. I’ve been nice, didn’t work. I’m 25 with a 5yr old and a 4yr old. My children are lovely so they’re not the problem. I feed my children organic, they have never eaten mcdonalds and we buy fair trade so values is not a problem. I am clever, going back to uni soon so intelligence isn’t the problem, I’m married so am not going to steal their husbands (although for some reason all but one of them are devorced), and my husband earns a really good wage so class by income is not a problem
they certainly make pickups less terrifying
either. No matter what I’ve tried the bitch slags still hate me. This past year I’ve learnt to say fuck em. The only issue I’ve seen is that I’m young and hot and they’re… Not. School mothers are a world unto their own… Let’s raise a glass two the two normal pleasant mums in every playground
I'll drink to that – cheers!
i've always been a misfit in the burbs. i just live by a different code: one where adult fun, games, sex toys, and some nasty language all remind me that I'M ALIVE. with a strong pulse. i'm not hurting or judging anyone. to me that's being a damn good human being. all of the other stuff, means nothing.
i think my daughter is better for it, too. she sees that her mom is vibrant, passionate and full of life. she knows that i am responsible and our home and family needs are met. she knows that being conventional and/or uptight aren't the only ways to accomplish that or to raise a good kid. she knows that i believe no matter what music you listen to, or video games you play, or tv you watch that you're not going to hell in a hand basket or becoming morally bankrupt. she knows that being loved is a gajillion times more important than any of that.
i love the internet because i've met so many like-minded people. but i'm with you, i need them to exist in my real life too! i know they're out there and they would appreciate my wackedness if they could just take their veils off, too.
Maybe it's different in America, but the suburbs in Australia appear to be filled with dirty, dirty people.
).
For instance, over the last ten years or so, there's been a huge surge in sex 'super stores' that are very deliberately (as in, they state it themselves) marketed to married couples. The headquarters of one chain of these stores is located almost exactly between where I grew up and what appears to be the epitome of the type of suburb your conservative 'well-bred' family would live in. Because it's their HQ, it's got all their products – this thing is a supermarket of sex toys, lingerie and porn (Which made the weekly trip to my parents for dinner so much more enjoyable.
My point is: maybe there's some wonderfully like-minded mums in your own suburb, hiding their wickedness, just like you are? I'm not sure how you'd find them, though. (I'm wondering if you could use some sort of trained sniffer dog? They spend half their time with their nose in your crotch, they might as well be useful while they're there and figure out if it's recently held a sex toy….oh, I'm a sick, sick person.)
there are ABSOLUTELY people just like that in EVERY suburb… they're just too scared to be judged to come out about it.
fucking repressive american puritanism!
erg! you're describing my life in the 'burbs (or at least the school pick up times of it)
feeling waaaaaaaaaay out of touch with my 'fellow' mothers
You should host on of those sex toy parties… with lot's of martinis.
Sure the ladies may point and whisper as you walk by, but it will be the most interesting thing they talk about for the next 2 years.
I stumbled across your fine blog yesterday and have wasted many hours trying to catch up. The June Cleaver quoting Frank Zappa put it over the top for me…I love you…
Welcome and I'm glad you found me