Tag Archives: jessica garvin

First Blog Award – Pretty Awesome….

2 Sep

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After finding myself “Freshly Pressed” which hasn’t happened since Prom ’89…

My post about letting my almost 9 year old son use the men’s room alone earned me many new followers and some new twitter “friends” and I was thrilled… Then, a lovely unknown-to-me person named Amber over at http://amberjedwards.wordpress.com nominated me for a Liebster Award… A recognition award to up and coming bloggers with under 200 followers… DONE!

So, thank you Amber! Way to pay it forward!

Word on the Liebster street is that the pre-requisite for acceptance is to answer ten questions from the Nominator… and so, here I will do so. I worry my answers will be generic, so I will fight against the black and white quickie version that always come to me first and find my happy place in that big giant deep grey area in which I’m most comfortable…

Here we go:

1. Where is your favourite place in the world?

Should I go cheesy here and say, on the couch in the early evening as the sun departs the day and one of my kids on either side of me, smelling of chlorine from the day we spent in the pool, their finger tips tinged a slight orange from the many popsicles we ate as I notice all three of our pairs of feet have the same tiny freckle above the right pinky toe as we watch some ridiculous re-run of “Good Luck Charlie”

OR… should I tell the real truth, which isn’t to imply the above is an outright lie, but just the other side of me… For my favorite place to be is a place I’ve never gone to yet, but imagine it in my head imposed by the travel book I read in college… It’s a dark wooded benched and table topped pub, deep in Dublin, with happy men and women singing songs that I’ve never heard and could never understand, no matter how many Guiness I drink. But, I’m there and I’m happy and I’m drunk and I end up making out with some irishman that smells like Old spice and Sheep fur. And it. is. awesome.

2. What is your favourite smell?

An Irishman that smells of Old Spice and Sheep Fur.

3. If you could be someone else for the day, who would it be?

Jesus. So that I could feel pure love and also pain. So that when I returned to me, I would stop bitching about a stupid headache and feel love for the douchebag that cut me off and almost killed my kids on the highway.

4. Which celebrity do you wish you could make disappear?

Brandi and LeAnne or whatever their names are. They are the most petty, annoying, narcissistic, materialistic, sad people. Yet, I read about them on my RSS feed. If they were gone though, I’d be left to read the back of the toothpaste tube while on the toilet.

5. What is your biggest ambition?

Philanthropy.

6. What is your biggest regret?

That I didn’t do more sit ups and/or butt lift presses. Everything else is exactly as it should be.

7. What is your favourite room in the house?

I don’t have a house (yet), we have a two bedroom apartment. Most days it’s the living room area, where the light hits it just right, but sometimes it’s whatever room my children are NOT in… 🙂

8. What is your first ever memory?

I remember before I was born, watching my family play with my older sister at a park … from a tree

I don’t know if I made that shit up and just believe it now. Or I’m totes cray, cray, but I swear I was there.

9. What is your favourite song?

Sister Christian … yeah, no.. I dunno…. I am human, amazing grace, busta move, Leather and lace…? I have horrible taste in music. Horrible.

10. Tell me something really unique/strange/odd about yourself that not many people know.

I can do the Molly Ringwald lipstick feat from ‘Breakfast Club’… Which is pretty impressive cause my boobs are only A’s and that may be pushing it.

Who Knew That Letting My Son Use The Men’s Room Would Be One Of The Bigger Decisions Of My Life.

5 Aug

Never in a million, trillion, gazillion years would I have ever, EVER thought that one of the biggest decisions of my life would be when and if I should let my son use the men’s room. Without me. Alone in there. With men. It never even occurred to me that this would BE an issue. OR raise mass amounts of anxiety in me when the time came. But, it was here and he was asking and he is turning 9 in two weeks and he is starting to really, really NOT want to go into the women’s room.

The first time I allowed him to, was with resistance. I hid it well from him, as I didn’t want to give him the gamut of dangers in my head and freak him out totally… It was at Target and I told him to go in first and come back and tell me if there was anyone else in there. He did and returned and said, there was one guy, who left as we stood outside the door, so I said, “okay. I’ll wait right here.” and then I couldn’t help myself… I continued, “No one helps you in there, no one looks at your privates in there, don’t talk to anyone… do your thing, wash your hands and come right back out, yes?” and he nodded and off he went. It seemed to take forever. It was quiet. Two dudes went in there after he did and sort of stared at me oddly as I stood near the mens’ room door, but I didn’t care, I shot them the look like, “my kid’s in there, if you fuck with him in any way, I will cut you.”

Then he emerged. AS fine as when he went in. And I felt sort of silly but proud and relieved and then I cried. Not like a weird 90’s sitcom cry, but I teared up knowing that this was just the beginning of things that I was going to have to let go of a little. I’ve trained him well. He’s a good kid. A smart kid. I felt like it was some scene in a Mission Impossible Movie:

Me: Whaddaya do if someone grabs you?
My son: Scream, kick, bite, fight, NEVER get into a car.
Me: Whaddaya do if someone touches your body?
My Son: Tell them no freaking way and tell you immediately.
Me: Whaddaya you do if they threaten you and say you’ll get in trouble?
My Son: I will never be in trouble if I tell you the truth, you will always be on my side. No matter what.
Me: What happens if we get separated in a crowded area?
My Son: I sit down and stay put, you will find me.
Me: Good. Good.
My Son: Am I ready?

Then the weird blue-lit montage fades away and real life is here and my son, my boy, my first true and real love is becoming a dude and this dude wants to pee with other dudes. And I have to not only trust him and myself … I now have to trust the world a little more.

And I’m scared. 

There are times… types of restrooms (i.e. road trips/gas stations) where I’m like, Sorry man, you’re staying with me and the ladies. And he rarely fights me on it. Rarely because he knows he will lose these battles with me. He sees it in my eyes now… he’s old enough to watch me, watching our surroundings… Someone stands too close, he notices now that I will put myself between them and my children. We cross a street, he notices now that I will walk on the outside, so the traffic is closest to me. He sees these things now. He’s starting to get it.

I don’t want him to distrust the world so fast. But I do want him aware, that not everyone is looking out for him. And whether or not he agrees with me and my decisions, HIS best interest is in my heart and he’s growing to trust that.

Mom Purse

18 Jul

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What you see is not pretty. Do not judge me.

I am not proud, but I feel no shame.

I invite you to take a glimpse in to the ugly side of my mom’ness. The truth is brutal. Consider yourself warned. You may want to look away, what you see is from the parental depths of hell… It’s my purse. And I’m sorry.

My daughter handed me a small shiny rock she found at the park. She asked me to keep it safe. I put it in my purse. Later that day, she asked for it. I removed the usual purse items; wallet, sunglasses case, antibacterial wipes, keys, small make-up bag, etc and this is what I saw.  Stunned, I took a closer look… how did this happen? I JUST cleaned it out. But there it was; a few days of just being a mom was right there… staring at me… carrying possible disease. A few days worth of us being late, grabbing snacks on a whim, quarter machines at the grocery store,… and the fact that I’m handed trash and other various items all day long from my children… sometimes they don’t even look at me when they do this… and I don’t really ask them to… I just take it and shove it in my purse.

Look closely. Somewhere in there is my self-esteem. Possibly my virginity (Yeah. No that’s looonng gone.)

There WAS a green skittle in there, but I ate it. I know, I know… Ga. Ross. BUT, I was desperate. I had a garlic bagel for lunch and then I had a meeting and couldn’t find my gum (shocker) and the meeting was at a Coffee Bean and certainly going to involve some close talking, so I did what I had to do. I ate the skittle. I did have to pry it off the lego dude but it tasted fine, and I will forever tell myself that the grainy things were just sand and that sand is natural and from the earth. God made dirt and dirt don’t hurt… Sand from a park… Um.. probably has cat pee in it… but I can’t worry about that NOW!

One of the many lies I tell myself regularly so that I don’t totally lose it.

This madness BTW, is only second to my cars cup holders… I think one of those are growing polio. There’s been a quarter glued to the bottom of one for over a year and when I say glued, I mean stuck by some unknown substance; perhaps a slurpee, melted lollipop or bubbles… probably all of the above. I found a French fry between the seats once and it was so petrified that I used it to try and scrape off the quarter when I was desperate for change at a parking meter. It didn’t work. It snapped in half, I ripped a nail, dropped the F-Bomb and the quarter remains.

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