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July 18, 2013 By Lauren Bonk

Truth Sandwich, Mayo on the Side

It’s been awhile since I’ve ranted.

This is because I would just sit down, FLAMING PISSED, write out a blog post, and then post it right away. What I’ve found is that this practice of “ranting without letting it sit” usually results in either me being misunderstood, or people I really like being offended by something I wrote.

Well, this one’s been simmering for a few years now, and I promise I’ll read it at least one more time before I post it.

I feel that it’s time to post a reminder:

I am still an actual human being. In case anyone is concerned that the fact that I have had children makes me . . . what? An alien? Stupid? Boring? Trivial? A weird shell of who I used to be? I can assure you that my thoughts are just as legitimate as they were before those crazy ole lady hormones took over my brain.

I always tell myself to just walk away when someone’s Facebook status makes me angry. I mean, really, a Facebook status is usually just a little snip of the offhanded part of someone’s brain; they probably didn’t put too much thought into it when they posted it. The fact that I see so many offhanded remarks in a particular vein, however, shows me that there is a trend in people’s thinking. A trend I don’t much appreciate.

It seems that a mom is regarded as . . . someone different. Someone not quite part of society. Someone who has opinions and interests, but they’re just mom opinions and interests.

A few years ago, someone posted a link to a DIY project, saying “Hey, this looks cool, but ignore the mombloggery writing.”

So, basically, the information is valuable, but the person writing it is not, because she’s a mother? Who blogs? Did you ever consider that maybe she just has an annoying writing style? And happens to be a mom? Who blogs? Trust me, there are plenty of blogs out there, written by moms, that are not cutesy and obnoxious-sounding.

Next, and this is much more recently, someone posted a status in rebuttal to all of the parents annoyed by fireworks keeping their children awake. This person stated that “listening to someone’s screaming child in a grocery store (for 20 minutes out of their day) is much higher on the annoyance scale compared to a few nights of bangs and booms (that will turn into 7 or 8 days of complete schedule screwery that results in a higher potential for more screaming at more stores).” This, of course, led to a discussion about whether people are good parents or not, based on whether their kids are “behaving” in a store.

Parenting. The one profession in which you get dismissed as something trivial while simultaneously having all of your decisions actively judged by society.

The part of this status that really made me want to flip out was that the person tried to placate the inevitably offended parents in his friend-base by saying that “Someday, you and your kids are going to look cute as heck lighting off fireworks blah blah blah.” Paraphrasing again. But not on the “cute as heck” part.

Here’s the deal: I do not care about whether or not my kids and I will look cute someday launching off mini war-heads. You know what I care about? Cultivating kids who are decent human beings. See, that’s what people forget. I know that social media makes it seem like moms are really just out there to take cute Instagrammed photos of small people making macaroni necklaces, but we’re actually trying to do legitimate things over here in Parent Land. We’re working our butts off every day, doing our best to keep the world from being swarmed by douchebags in the future. (I’m sorry everyone, I really tried to pick a better word than douchebag, but it was the one that really felt good here.) I don’t care if you think we’re doing a good job or not; that’s for another discussion. The fact is, we’re trying, and we’re trying hard.

I just saw a post today that (even though I KNOW it was a completely harmless, well-intended one) seemed to suggest that one of my mom friends wouldn’t enjoy the things she used to enjoy. You know, back in the day, before she turned into a crazy parent-doppleganger of her old self? Did my friend take offense at this? Probably not . . . but I don’t think she’s quite as bitter about this as I am.

So, in review:

1. Parenthood has made me different, however, I am still essentially the same person I was before I created ankle-biters with my body.

2. Be aware that under the photo-filtering, crust-cutting, sunscreen-rubbing veneer, there is a person with legitimate knowledge and opinions that pertain to things other than Blue’s Clues and baby shampoo. We are people with degrees, and/or with years of real-world experience in different areas, and you might be surprised that we can contribute to conversations that people have in the real world.

Listen, I know that most, maybe all of the people reading this are going to be like, “Duh, Lauren. We know this. Stop inadvertently yelling at us.” But, ohmygosh, there are some people out there who need to eat a giant truth sandwich when it comes to the act of child-rearing. Most likely they’ll have decided to eat at the Jumping to Conclusions Java Joint across the street, but trust me guys, I’m whipping them up over here and I’m open 24 hours.

That last sentence was ridiculous, but I like it so I’m keeping it anyway.

Filed Under: Ranting and Raving

July 15, 2013 By Lauren Bonk

Fricking Food Coloring

My high school self would be laughing/rolling her eyes at me right now.

My high school self was also bitter, naïve, and pretty holier-than-thou, so , hey whatever.

I remember I would see girls get so mad at their boyfriends (or sports or something) that they’d throw their cell phones against a wall, or dudes would get so mad about . . . well dude things . . . that they’d punch their lockers. I always laughed at this, because the result was always either A) a broken cell phone or B)a broken hand.

Well, folks, turns out I’m not immune to those temper tantrums.

Things started out innocently enough. We’ve been pretty bad about Charlie zoning out on cartoons almost immediately after he wakes up, so I thought, “Hey, let’s have a fun activity planned for tomorrow morning!” I had just bought some new boxes of food coloring and decided that an impromptu bath with shaving cream paint would be just the ticket.

The problem was that Lucy had woken up earlier than Charlie, and she was starting to show signs of wanting a nap. I thought I could get some breakfast in Charlie, mix up the shaving cream paint, and get the bath going while she played with a few toys on the floor.

Nope.

Turns out Lucy was much more ready for a nap than I thought. Sometimes Lucy’s screaming rubs Charlie the wrong way, so he started to get a little whiny. So, here I am, trying to get this fun activity all ready so that I could feed Lucy, get her to sleep, and then try to actively participate with Charlie . . . except that Lucy was screaming like a 20 year old college theatre student helping her buddy out with his indie horror film, Residence Hall of Horror.

Finally, I just gave up and let her scream on the floor while I got the bath ready. I get Charlie stripped and in the bath, gather up the screaming lump on the rug, and go in to tell the three year old that “I’m going to feed Lucy, so you play for a few minutes and I’ll be right in.”

This is when Charlie sticks his finger in one of the paint cups, disinterestedly wipes it on his leg, and says, “I want to get ourra the bath, Mom.” (“Ourra” means “out of,” and it’s usually terribly cute.)

You guys, I’m serious, my face almost exploded. I just turned around, laid Lucy down on the bed, walked into the kitchen, and threw the box of food coloring against the wall so hard it made my shoulder hurt.

Did I feel better after that? Oh, you betcha.

I was lucky. I could have ended up with a wall covered in instantly-staining food dye, effectively giving myself more work than I already had.

So. Dear High School Self,

You should probably wipe that smug look off of your face. Your time is coming, lady.

Sincerely,
A much squishier, more exhausted, totally wiser version of yourself.

Filed Under: General Brain Exercise

June 30, 2013 By Lauren Bonk

Lightning Bugs and Stuff and Things

Whew. These past few weeks have been jam-packed with stuff going on. I’ve seriously got to get better at chronicling the adventures of the Bonk clan! I’d like to do some more frequent “Stuff and Things” posts, as well as some more “picture only” posts, but we’ll see, eh? Anyway, Summer has hit us head-on, and we’re doing our best to make the most of it. I’m so happy to be living in Omaha! There are family-friendly opportunities happening every single day here, and Charlie’s made some really awesome little friends. The bonus? Their moms are so cool that I end up looking forward to every playdate. We’re pretty lucky around here, I tell you what.

Holy Giant Babies, Batman.

Guys, Lucy is huge. She’s only got, like, .2 millimeters of hair, but she’s around 18 pounds at 6 months old, and is barrel-rolling over to the stuff that she wants. It’s so amazing to watch a second baby grow, knowing that they’re going to get just as big as the first one someday. Seriously, so crazy.

So . . . The Tree.

For those of you who don’t live in Omaha, last Monday a crazy-freak-land-hurricane Judo-chopped the city and knocked down a whole bunch of trees. One of those trees thought it would be cool to land on our house. Luckily, we weren’t home when it happened, because I honestly have no idea how I would have reacted. Well, I’m sure it would have been some form of crazy freaking out, but I’m not sure exactly how the reaction would have played out. Either way, I’m glad we weren’t here when it happened. As a result of falling limbs, our air conditioner was wiped out for about four days.

(In other news, I am apparently super-grumpy when I get too hot and uncomfortable. Who’d have thought?)

The A/C is back on now, but we’re not out of the woods yet. I think there is going to be some drywall removal upstairs, and it turns out that our roof is made out of asbestos, so that should be interesting. Good thing we rent, eh?

Don’t Come Running to Me When Those Things Blow Your Freaking Face Off

I hate the 4th of July and its preceding week. For the love of all things not exploding, I just despise it.

Family Pictchas!

The lovely Rutheah from Blue House Fotos took our family pictures a few years ago, and I just LOVED THEM. We met her in Lincoln for another round and, again, I LOVE THEM. Here’s one of my favorites, and head on over to her website to see all of the other gorgeous photos she’s taken.

Ah, to be a Little Boy on a Summer Night

We went to the coolest event this weekend. Paul’s favorite place in Omaha to play disc golf, Hummel Park, is home to a pretty rockin’ nature center. This last Saturday, they hosted a free Lightning Bug Party from 7:30 till dusk, and I am so very, very happy we went. The incredibly friendly staff helped kids with all sorts of awesome outdoor activities before the sun went down and the precious little fireflies came out. Charlie got to shoot a bow and arrow, go on a nature hike, make his very first-ever smore, and decorate a jar, all before frolicking about a little meadow with a bug net in hand. Watching that little boy in his overalls, with such light and determination in his eyes, just made me want to breathe in the green night air and suck in as much of his smile as I possibly could. I can’t believe how amazing it is to have a family.

This will definitely be an event we return to next year. We had so much fun, and the staff was kind and genuine. Also, right at the end of the night, after seeing that Charlie was having a hard time getting one last bug, a little girl ran up to us as we were leaving, just to give Charlie that last bug he was trying so hard to get. It was just so sweet. The perfect end to a wonderful evening.

Filed Under: General Brain Exercise

June 13, 2013 By Lauren Bonk

The Concert

I don’t know how memory works for other people, but for me, memories are more like still shots in my head, as opposed to moving pictures.

One of my favorite memories is of me sitting in my dorm room in … get this … 2003. I was staring out the window at the parking lot between UNK Student Affairs and the Otto Olson building. Rain was pounding the pavement and I was just sitting at my desk, flipping through the pages of the CD booklet, listening to one of my favorite albums for the first time ever.

I don’t remember where I heard the preview track from the band, but I loved it enough to pre-order it from Hastings Books and Music. The second I got out of class that Tuesday (CD release day, you know), I had someone drive me to the store so I could pick up the CD, since I didn’t have a car my freshman year of college.
I thanked whoever it was who drove me, ran up the stairs, fumbled like an idiot with that damn plastic strip at the top, and practically shoved the CD into the CD player.
The screen shot in my head is the one of me watching the rain from my desk. I was in lovewith this band and this album.

That was ten years ago. Ten years ago, a band called Spitalfield released their albumRemember Right Now, and it has been on my Top 5 Favorite album list ever since. They broke up back in 2007 (I think), and this year they organized a ten year anniversary tour for the album. The closest place they were playing turned out to be where my sister lives, so we just made a vacation out of it.

And, oh, this concert. I can’t tell you how awesome it was to hang out with just my sister. We’re very different in a lot of ways, but one of our common grounds is pop-punk music, and we had a great time together. It was in a small concert bar, and almost all of the concert-goers looked about the same age.

(::Cough:: 30 ::Cough.::)

They played all of the songs in the order they were on the album, and these guys were clearly having a blast playing their old stuff . . . and I danced my ass off. I almost felt like a 20 year old. Almost.

 

I don’t care if it’s just a bunch of guys playing pop-punk music. I love it like crazy. Isn’t music amazing the way it lasts through the years for people? I always think of my Grandma Blessing listening to Big Band music on NPR. That was the music she loved, and she still listens to it today.

 

Well, I can tell you right now, I’m going to be a little old lady someday jamming out to Spitalfield in my rocking chair, and it’s still going to be awesome.

 

(Here’s some Spitalfield to listen to, as well as the lead singer’s website. He’s got a solo thing going, which is different, but equally as enjoyable to hear.)

Filed Under: General Brain Exercise

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