This morning started with an argument, as seems to happen more often lately. It was over something silly, as is also the case most times. There were tears and slammed kitchen drawers. And eventually you stormed out in a huff to get on your bike to ride to school.

As soon as you left, I felt both relief and regret. Relief that the argument was over. Regret that we had argued, that you left with anger lingering between us.

And then, just as I was about to open the window to call out “I love you!,” you opened the door and lunged into my arms.

“I’m sorry, Mom,” you said. “I love you.”

I held you a little tighter than usual. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I love you too.”

But there was so much more I wanted to say. So much more I want to say – every day — but I don’t.

This is unchartered territory, my friend.

You tell me that I’m easier on your younger brother than I am on you, and maybe that’s true. But you are my first, and I have no means of comparison. I have no frame of reference to reassure me that, yes, this is just a phase and no, I don’t need to flip out. With him, I have the comfort of experience to assure me (albeit ever so slightly) that things will probably be okay.

But with you, well, I just don’t know. This is all new territory, and I’m so damn scared of falling short.

I see your goodness and kindness, but also your privilege. And I feel the weight and obligation of ensuring that is kept in check so that your privilege doesn’t morph into entitlement. So I rail against the “boys with be boys” mentality with an iron fist, and sometimes you are caught in the crosshairs. Sometimes you are the unintended victim of my rage at the inequalities and injustices of the world and my desperate attempts to right the wrongs of generations past. And so I obsess about seemingly insignificant things and talk too much about stuff you already know.

You are a sweet and sensitive soul, but as a white male, things will always be easier for you than they are for many other people. They just will. It’s your responsibility to use those comforts to make things better for others. And I am just so terrified that, as your mom, I won’t do a good enough job of teaching you this.

Basically, I’m terrified. All the time.

When you were a newborn, we used to spend late afternoons dancing. Anyone looking in on us would have thought, how sweet, a new mom swaying with her baby. But what they wouldn’t have known was that I did this with you simply because I didn’t know what else to do. I was exhausted and lonely and scared and didn’t know what to do with a 2-month-old baby. So we put on music and danced.

And sometimes I feel the same way now. You are just about 12 years old, and I feel a similar sense of exhaustion, loneliness, and fear. I don’t know what to do with an almost teenager, just like I didn’t know what to do with a newborn. And like in those early days of motherhood, I spend most days fending off a mild terror that I’m screwing this all up somehow.

You see, what parents don’t tell their kids – and don’t even admit to each other sometimes – is that we have no idea what we’re doing. Sure, we feel more comfortable with some decisions and we learn to trust our gut a bit, but there is always an undercurrent of fear. There are always the perpetual questions of: What should I do? Am I doing enough? Did I make the right decision? 

Because through all the fear and arguments and regrets, there is this one truth:

I am absolutely in awe of you.

I am in awe of who you are and who you are becoming. I am in awe of your joyful laughter. I am in awe of your quiet confidence in who you are.

I am in awe of your seemingly effortless way of captivating a room of people, and interacting with others. I am in awe of the whole-hearted way you love your family and friends and life. I am in awe of your steady way of walking through the world.

And because of this, I’m terrified of not doing right by you.

But I don’t tell you this.

Why? Well, I don’t know if you’d understand. I don’t know if it even matters, or if it’s just parental fretting.

But, really, you would understand. It does matter. And it’s not parenting fretting.

So mostly, I don’t tell you, because I just don’t know how.

The post What I Want To Say To My Almost Teenager (But Don’t) appeared first on Scary Mommy.

Brace yourself, folks. I have a confession.

Here goes: I fucking HATE Halloween.

And I’m not just talking mild annoyance at the pumpkin spice explosion. Or cringe-worthy frustration at the (culturally) inappropriate costumes. Or eye-rolling nausea at the obnoxious hashtags and photo shoots. #mommyslittlepumpkin #makemebarf

I hate it all. I despise it. In fact, I downright loathe Halloween.

I’m the Halloween Grinch, and here’s why.

1. Costume stress.

GIPHY

Around our house, the Great Costume Debate typically starts sometime in early September and lingers right on through mid-October. First, there is the debate about whether to be a ghoul or a zombie (is there a difference?). Then there’s the debate about why I won’t spend $80 for a flimsy black robe and hood. And last, but certainly not least, is the arguing (and crying) that ensues when my kids decide that they don’t actually want to be a ghoul or a zombie, but instead they want to be Captain America and the Halloween Superstore is fresh out of superheroes. And I’m completely out of fucks.

2. The logistics of trick or treating.

GIPHY

When my kids were younger, the small talk at all the neighborhood houses made the introvert in me anxious as hell. Now that my kids are older, they are at an age where they can trick or treat on their own, but that doesn’t make it any less stressful. Because now there’s planning which neighborhood they’ll walk through and which friends they’ll go with and what time they need to be home.

Not to mention that some of their friends’ parents aren’t comfortable with their kids walking alone, so then I look like the asshole parent who just left her kid to walk the streets alone. Gosh, I miss those halloweens of the ’80s when we all ditched our parents and no one fretted about it.

3. Pumpkins fucking suck.

GIPHY

The pumpkin patch is basically a trip to a field where we fork over $30 for a pumpkin you need a wagon to haul home. Then there’s the pumpkin carving mess left in the kitchen after the kids scoop out a few spoonfuls of seeds and mush and leave the rest to you. Even if you do manage to carve a hot mess into a motherfucking gourd, within a couple days, it’s going to be rotting mess that attracts gangs of squirrels to the front porch.

4. The awful decorations.

GIPHY

There are basically two kinds of Halloween decorations: (1) disgustingly corny pumpkins and such. Or (2) ugly shit that is trying to be scary.

I’m far from a Joanna Gaines, but I’m pretty sure blood and gore doesn’t count as shabby chic.

5. It marks the beginning of holiday madness.

GIPHY

As if Halloween itself weren’t bad enough, it’s just the beginning of it all. I’ll be honest, as a working mom, I’m hanging on by a thread most days. I have about 18 minutes of free time each day, and I’ve been operating on 5 hours sleep for the past decade. So the last thing I need is to add 10 extra chores to my to-do list to keep up with the holiday shitshow.

So yeah, I suppose you could say I’m a Halloween grinch. Even the candy isn’t enough to shake it out of me, though the Reese’s pumpkins do come close.

The post I Hate Halloween, And Here’s Why appeared first on Scary Mommy.

It’s a tough time to be a woman right now. Our political leaders have just laughed in our faces, mocked our pain, and given the middle finger to equality. Meanwhile, we’re forced to watch another entitled, rich, white man rise to the top. Blegh.

We’re vulnerable, angry, and fed the fuck up. Our rage is at peak level, but so is the sadness. We’re basically walking around ready to either burst into flames or sobs at any moment.

So circle up, friends. Because women supporting women is about the most badass thing we can do right now. And if you need proof, look no further than Twitter.

First off, we’re never too young for #girlpower.

Once was out for lunch with my 2yo. This jerk was complaining about his female boss. Little one slammed her hand down on the table, pointed at him and yelled ‘That’s not very nice’. He shut up. I have been learning from her ever since. #girlssupportinggirls #fuckpoliteness

— Dana (@dbjarnagage) October 6, 2018

And we’re there for each other during those tricky times.

If a girls asks me for a tampon and I don't have one for her, best believe we bouta search the entire vicinity together to find her a tampon

— Kailee (@QuarteroRae) March 5, 2017

And when we need a little help from our friends (or a stranger).

Walked into a bathroom at the club, saw a security guard harassing this chick so I’m like “hey girl, I’ve been looking for you everywhere the bands about to start” took her hand and we left. Never seen her before in my life #girlssupportinggirls

— dontbeadick (@spotbakesacake) October 6, 2018

We’ve got each other’s back.

the girl in front of me in the lecture was watching grey’s anatomy, looked back and saw me staring so she put on the subtitles.

girls support girls.

— bia ❦ (@veryfawny) October 3, 2017

We are always looking out for each other.

A man plainly followed me onto my bus. Woman came to sit by me & asked if I knew he was following me. She offered to get off at my stop w me

— Natalie Jester (@NatalieJester) August 12, 2017

We know when one of us needs a pick me up…

When a group of teenage girls stop you at the convenience store to tell you that your highlight is popping and that you're gorgeous there are still good people out there #girlssupportinggirls

— Bren (@brennamarie118) January 9, 2018

Or a little beauty advice.

i asked this girl where she got her nails done&she googled the exact address & showed me a pic of the building THATS girls supporting girls

— frog’s breath (@rosyghoul) August 6, 2017

I asked a girl where did she cut her hair and she took an appointment for me and a discount at that hairdresser…girls support all the way!

— Hana Osman | هناء عثمان (@HanaOsman) August 8, 2017

And when the times comes to unleash our fierce, badass rage on the world, we know what to do.

ladies: what’s your makeup routine? i’m looking for a new foundation, preferably liquid but still matte and now that the men have stopped reading we riot at midnight

— aída chávez (@aidachavez) September 28, 2018

And we’re there with reinforcements.

I use a nice gloss called YOU SHOULD SMILE MORE.

— Lisa Braun Dubbels (@lisadubbels) October 2, 2018

I use a shade called RAGE and a blusher called BURN IT DOWN.

— Lisa Braun Dubbels (@lisadubbels) September 28, 2018

We’re ON IT.

I have the same trouble but with eyeliner. Apparently rosewater makes an excellent make up fixer but it's about time, see you on the battlefield, sisters.

— Deadly Knitshade (@deadlyknitshade) October 2, 2018

Ooh I’ll try that! It might help with my concealer too. My biggest problem are my under-eye bags though. I am only just starting to learn how to minimize them it’s cold in some places maybe you could bring some knitted things to keep our sisters warm

— SCARE-en James (@kejames) October 2, 2018

Even though I’m 71, I Cover Girl. I need some tips on using mascara, please ..... meet us in the parking lot behind Safeway and be ready to throw some cocktails ha ha ha (insert maniacal laughter here).

— Lynda Franka (@lyndaarizona) September 30, 2018

I’m in. My new eyebrow pencil is Definition of Rage and my ultimate fave lipstick is Cat 5 Hurricane by Survivor Scorned.

— Kristine Kenyon (@kristine_kenyon) September 30, 2018

Follow the bat signal, folks. Favorite foundation and lip gloss optional.

Makeup tips are the new bat signal. Done.

— TMarie (@tessas_marie) September 30, 2018

The post These Tweets Show The Fiery Force That Is Women Supporting Women appeared first on Scary Mommy.

This is a strange time to be a mom of boys.

In the past week alone, my sons (I don’t have any daughters) have come home from school to see news media stories talking about things like gang rape and devil’s triangle. They have seen me cry (more than usual) about things happening on the news or something I’ve read on the Internet.  They have heard debates about whether we should believe him or her.

While the majority of stories being told are of the fears women face on a regular basis, there is a growing concern about our boys. What about our sons?, people say. I’m scared to be raising a boy right now.

And you know what?

As a mom of boys, I am scared. I am worried.

And let me tell you why.

Things I worry about as a mom of boys:

– Whether they actually washed their hands after going to the bathroom

– All the “wet spots” in the bathroom

– The weird smell coming from their bedroom

– The ways that our culture  of toxic masculinity will make them feel like they need to “man up” or “stuff their emotions”

– That they won’t feel like they can be a sensitive and feeling person because they are male

– That I’ll get stuck in a long, never ending conversation about Fortnite, again

– All the money they are wasting on “V bucks” for said Fortnite games

– Whether they’ll remember to put on deodorant in the morning and again after gym class

– Whether they will ever truly realize the privilege they carry as (white) males in this society

– If they’ll use that privilege for good

– Whether they will get their heart broken one day

– Whether they will stand up to their friends when they tell an inappropriate joke or say something mean

– Whether they’ll drive safely and remember to use their turn signals

– If they’ll call home enough after they leave the house one day

– That despite all the conversations we have about consent and respect that the messages they are hearing from the President and other “leaders” will filter in, that they’ll see other boys and men not being held accountable for their mistakes, that they’ll become desensitized to the disgusting and amoral behavior being justified by some people right now and somehow, in some small way, all the things that I have tried to teach them will be minimized or erased

– Whether I’m doing everything I can to raise them to be good, kind, caring, generous, sensitive people

Things I DON’T worry about as a mom of boys:

– Whether they will be falsely accused of sexual assault one day.

Period.

The post As A Mom Of Boys, I Am Worried — And Here’s Why appeared first on Scary Mommy.

I am a child of the ’80s. So, by all definitions, I should be able to quote The Princess Bride, know the founding members of the Brat Pack, and worship at the altar of Carrie Fisher. The trouble is, our family didn’t have cable, and I rarely went to the movies. I didn’t know Carrie Fisher was the actress who played Princess Leia until about 6 years ago – because I hadn’t seen Star Wars until 6 years ago. I still don’t know who the Brat Pack is, and I hadn’t seen The Princess Bride until recently.

I know, I know. I’m an embarrassment to my generation and all that. Except you know what? Many of those movies that we swoon over from our childhoods are actually pretty terrible. Sure, Carrie Fisher was a bona fide badass, and Star Wars is every bit as amazing as it’s hailed to be. But the rest of it? Well, it’s trash — mostly for the hidden and smack-you-in-the-face-obvious sexist and racist messages. And if it isn’t total trash, it’s a whole lot of blah and meh and what-was-the-big-deal-anyway.

I’m probably committing some kind of blasphemy with this list, but here are just a few cult classics that are actually pretty awful.

1. Rocky

MGM/Chartoff-Winkler Productions/United Artists

I’m no boxing fan, so that probably should have been my first tip-off that I wouldn’t love this movie, but I truly don’t understand the appeal. Even if you can appreciate the “underdog” aspect, there are a lot of big, glaring problems in this movie. Like Rocky’s treatment of Adrian, for one. Within the first few minutes of watching the movie, I’d had several conversations with my kids about consent and misogyny which led to a mom-lecture about how, when Adrian said she wasn’t comfortable in Rocky’s apartment, he should have said, “Okay, I’ll walk you home.” No means no, people!

2. The Princess Bride

MGM/Act III Communications/21st Century Fox

I’ll admit, the movie is pretty funny, but what’s the deal with Princess Buttercup? She is the Worst. Character. Ever. I’ll grant you the Inigo is hilarious and all that. But why are all the good characters in the movie men? The only female character is the movie is absolutely worthless. It was a little hard to watch with my boys without launching into a lecture – and they had enough of those with Rocky.

3. Grease

RSO Records/Paramount Pictures

The first song of the year actually condones date rape with its “Tell me more, tell me more, did she put up a fight?” line. WTAF! This whole movie with its slut shaming, patriarchal stereotypes, and blurred lines about consent is just one big dumpster fire of awful.

4. Sixteen Candles

Lara de Lille / YouTube

It truly pains me to include this movie on the list, but sometimes even the great ones disappoint us. As much as I love me some Jake Ryan (who doesn’t swoon when he says, “yeah, you” at the end?), there are just too many problematic things in this movie, including the date rapey scene with Samantha and “the geek” at the end. Not to mention it’s kinda racist AF.

5. A Christmas Story

MGM

I’m not even sure where to start with this one. First of all, the plot is boring and it’s not that funny. Then there are the ’40s-era stereotypes, mocking of different cultures, and abusive parenting tactics. At least with this one, it was my kids who were appalled – why is she putting soap in her kid’s mouth?! That’s just mean!

Now before you call me a stick-in-the-mud who can’t appreciate ’80s pop culture, I do appreciate a bunch of ’80s cult classics that withstand the test of time: Star Wars (Carrie Fisher is the epitome of badassery), Stand By Me and Dirty Dancing (#BestMovieEver). And I still haven’t seen Indiana Jones or Fast Times At Ridgemont High or Heathers (I told you I had a sheltered childhood) so I’m reserving judgment on those.

The post 5 Movie ‘Favorites’ That Are Actually Pretty Awful appeared first on Scary Mommy.

Growing up, I shared a bedroom with my younger sister. We lived in a small split-level house that had fewer bedrooms than people so there was really no other choice. Since we were only 17 months apart in age, our lives overlapped in a lot of ways – we had many of the same friends, were in the same sports, and shared clothes. So as a kid, sharing a room was just one more way in which my life seemed to be perpetually intertwined with my sister’s.

And not always in a good way.

As kids, we would tape lines down the middle of our room, including dresser drawers and closets. These boundaries usually lasted a couple days until one of us was out of clean socks and needed to gain passage to “the other side” of the room to borrow a pair of clean ones. My sister kept me up at night with her late night chatting, and as a teen, I quickly grew tired of her eavesdropping on my phone conversations.

I wanted space and independence, dammit. And back then, I was certain that when I had I kids, I would do whatever it took so they could each have their own room.

Well, fast-forward 20 years, and I am firmly and forever on #TeamShareARoom.

Even though my two kids could technically have their own room, for better or worse, they bunk together. And here’s why.

1. They’ll learn to share space.

Throughout their lives, they will likely have to share space with another human – whether it’s a college roommate, a spouse, or a co-worker. Sharing a bedroom as kids gives them practice at dealing with the bullshit and annoyances that come along with sharing space. The way I see it, I’m giving them good practice at dealing with that co-worker who leaves food in the office fridge too long or a spouse who can’t seem to get their socks in the laundry hamper. Ideally, it’s teaching them to not leave their food in the office fridge too long and to put their socks in the hamper.

You’re welcome, future co-workers and spouses.

2. They’ll have lasting memories.

Sure, those memories might be of me hollering up the stairs for them to GO THE EFF TO SLEEP!, but they’ll be memories nonetheless. Ideally, the memories will also include late-night conversations or helping each other with homework one day, but I’m a realist.

3. It fosters connection.

Given that my kids are 3.5 years apart, their lives don’t overlap as much as my sister’s and mine did. But I can already see the ways they are bonding because they share a room. There are many days when they bicker from morning to night, but then within a few minutes of “lights out,” I’ll hear them giggling about some inside joke or whispering about something that happened at school.

My younger son has opened up to his older brother about problems he was having at school, and my older son tells him about something cool he learned in middle school history class. By the end of the day, I’m pretty much done so I have no use for bedtime shenanigans, and they often use each other for comfort.

4. They learn that bigger isn’t always better.

Full disclosure: I’m a minimalist at heart. Extra clutter and “stuff” fills me with anxiety. That said, even aside from my propensity for a “less is more” lifestyle, it’s pretty obvious that our society has become a teensy bit obsessed with the bigger is better mentality. We have smaller families but live in bigger houses than ever before – and, quite frankly, it isn’t doing our world any good. By sharing a room, my kids are learning how to occupy less space. They are learning that stuff — houses, bedrooms, belongings — aren’t as important as relationships.

My kids have shared a room for the past 5 years or so, and despite some grumbling now and then, it’s been one of the best parenting decisions we’ve ever made. It took some convincing to get my husband to come around to the whole idea (big surprise: he didn’t share a room growing up), but even he would agree that it’s been a good move.

Our oldest son is precariously close to the teen years, which will likely complicate things a bit, but they’ll just have to figure out how to make it work. Because I firmly believe that sharing a room provides lasting benefits that far outweigh any of the downsides.

So sorry, kids, but you’ll be sharing a room for the next several years, whether you like it or not. And yes, one day, you’ll thank me.

Even if that “thank you” doesn’t come through actual words, but because you also make your own kids share a room too.

The post Damn Right, I’m Making My Kids Share A Room — Here’s Why appeared first on Scary Mommy.

Ahh, weddings… Who doesn’t love them? There’s love and romance, charcuterie boards and hors d’oeuvres, cocktails and cheesy ‘80s music. What isn’t to love about weddings?

Well, the drama, for one. We all know that weddings can make people a little bonkers, to say the least. I once got into a weeks long “debate” with my mom over chair covers. Chair covers, people! (Side note: she came around to the idea and they looked freaking amazing, I might add.)

But sometimes the wedding madness goes beyond chair covers and decisions about whether to invite your cousin Carol and her bratty kids. Sometimes weddings can turn people into obnoxious asshats, who are dead set on sucking every ounce of joy out of the wedding in their misguided attempts to create the perfect wedding day. (Newsflash, folks: perfect is overrated.)

So lest you want to become the subject of wedding fodder, it’s best to avoid the following:

Making Guests Pay For Your Wedding

If you can believe it, this woman tried to charge each of her wedding guests $1,500 to attend the ceremony. Yes, you read that right. FIFTEEEN HUNDRED DOLLARS. And then when folks didn’t cough up the cash, she cancelled the wedding.

“How could we have OUR wedding that WE dreamed of without proper funding?” she wrote. “We sacrificed so much and only asked each guest for around $1,500.”

BAHAHAHAHA. We’re cry laughing too. We’ll give you a minute to wipe the tears from your eyes.

Kicking Bridesmaids Out Of The Wedding

Being asked to be in someone’s wedding party is a big responsibility. We get it. But you’re supposed to be friends, right?

Earlier this year, Twitter user Courtney Duffy shared an email she received from a bride kicking her out of the wedding posse. Duffy then took to social media with her tale, asking airline JetBlue to help her out.

“SOS JetBlue! Booked my X-C flights for a wedding, then was asked ‘to relinquish’ my ‘duties as a bridesmaid’ & mail my bridesmaid outfit X-C so another girl could fill in and wear it (Happy bday to me!),” she wrote. “I am laughing & crying & must avoid this wedding at all costs. Pls help?”

Issuing Ridiculous Demands To Wedding Guests

Yes, we understand that you want your big day to be “perfect.” But slow your roll, Janet, you are not the motherfucking queen of the universe here, so you can just CTFD with your requests for expensive gifts, bans on certain hairstyles, and fashion mandates.

This bridezilla from hell recently became internet (in)famous for her ridiculous list of demands that includes “do not wear white, cream or ivory” and “do not wear anything other than a basic bob or ponytail” and “must come with gift of $75 or more.”

Kindly refrain from upstaging the bride on her big day — oh, and no admission without a gift of $75 or more from ChoosingBeggars

We’re gonna go out on a limb and guess that the number of weddings guests was pretty low. As in we’d be surprised if anyone showed up at all.

Asking Your Wedding Party To Spend A Shit Ton Of Money On Dress, Travel, And Other Nonsense

Weddings aren’t generally known for being “cheap” or “easy,” so if a bride or groom asks us to be in their wedding party, we know it’ll come with a price tag.

BUT.

We don’t expect to be asked to take out a second mortgage on our house, sell a kidney, or cash our kids’ college fund just to be able to be in your wedding. It’s bad enough that we’re asked to cough up several hundred dollars on an outfit we likely won’t wear again, please don’t ask us to pay for airline tickets to the other side of the globe  just so you can get married in front of one of the Seven Wonders of the World. And while we’re at it, no, you can’t demand people to  be flying across the globe on a separate trip to give you a “last fling before the ring” either.

Generally Being An Awful Human Being

Sometimes the bridezilla isn’t even the bride. This monster-of-the-bride wrote in to Salon’s Dear Prudence advice column asking whether it was okay to ask the bride to exclude her best friend – who happens to have a limp – from the wedding party. Yep, you read that right. This parent wanted to exclude their daughter’s BFF from the wedding party because she walks with a limp.

I am no longer of this earth. This letter has killed me. https://t.co/McnBl7wsfS pic.twitter.com/vAK3xsWiVh

— Nicole Cliffe (@Nicole_Cliffe) September 6, 2017

There is so much wrong with this hot mess of a letter — not even sure where to start. First, this is one of the meanest and ugliest things ever written, and I can’t even believe this has to be said, but a limp is nothing to be ashamed of. Reminder: this isn’t even the parent’s wedding (but their daughter’s wedding), so back the fuck off, Mom (or Dad).

But most importantly, what the hell is wrong with this person?

As Daniel Mallory Ortberg, the voice behind the Dear Prudence column, concluded in his response letter: “I encourage you to profoundly reconsider the orientation of your heart.”

Indeed.

The post These Bridezillas Are Just THE WORST appeared first on Scary Mommy.