Ohh That’s Sharp Chedda

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Labour Chedda

At the end of January, a human being poked its tiny head out of my vagina and every second since, mine and Jack’s lives have been turned upside down. In a good way. And, although this is NOT a Mommy blog, there were some noteworthy events that occurred prior to Motherhood. Here’s one. . .

If you have ever been in labour you know that once active (fml) labour kicks in, conversations piss you off and any amount of talking is not in the cards. Throughout my pregnancy I was obsessed with food and eating and this warm day in January was no exception. I needed to eat one last time before the great fast ahead of me; my last meal. My sister offered me some cheese which I accepted and gobbled hurriedly between hell pains.

The cheese left a strong, lingering after taste in my mouth and as another contraction came on I exclaimed, “Ohh, that’s sharp cheddar!”
All labour attendees in the room burst out laughing (including el prego). Have you ever laughed while in excruciating pain? It sounds a bit like this:
“HAHA owww, oh God!”
*CLEANSING BREATH*
“HAHA owwie, stop it, stop now!”

With another deep cleansing breath, I was able to let the contraction go, but I couldn’t let the cheese situation simmer, “WHAT kind of cheese was that?!”

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I’m F@cking Offended That You’re Offended

The offspring of Generation X; the "Spoiled, Offended Generation".

The offspring of Generation X; the “Spoiled, Offended Generation”.

This had to be said by someone at some point, and Lady Leisure seems to be good at offending others, so here it is. I’m laying it all out for you.

I’m annoyed with people who are offended by humor. I’m fed up with individuals who cover their child’s ears when someone innocently lets a swear slip. To put it bluntly, I’m sick of society’s shit; and here’s why:

Our generation (Generation X) was the first one not to get physically abused by our teachers in school. We had it good. We rode our bikes without helmets and played in our yards and neighborhoods without fear. As girls, we played games like kick the can and hopscotch, wrote in our diaries, started babysitter clubs, and gossiped until the cows came home. When we got a bit older, we experimented with alcohol in our parents’ basements and read magazine articles about sex. When we didn’t hand in our homework, we effectively received a big fat “zero” on the assignment. If we didn’t study for an exam or pay attention in class, our grades reflected that behaviour. And you know what? We learned from our mistakes and tried harder next time. We realized these tough lessons in grade school so we could be functioning members of society as we grew into adulthood.

Although bullying has sadly always been around, not one of us was “offended” by the fair and just repercussions of our actions, and life was kosher. The world was a better place before social media, internet networking/marketing, and technology ruled the world.

So here we are approximately 15-20 years later, and life is EASY for most of the offspring of Generation X (too easy, if you ask me). We became adults and somehow forgot what it was like to be a kid growing up in the 80’s and 90’s and how fun and discipline played equal roles in our childrearing. We owe the discipline we received from all the adults in our lives for our current successes. But, we no longer understand balance. Some of us will let our children do anything they want, including the allowance to disrespect authority, because we feel our parents were too hard on us. Others will not allow our children to do or try anything, for fear of them getting hurt, offended, or WORSE.

I am not yet a parent and I will not tell you how to raise your child. What I will do, is give my opinion on what will stop the current generation from being referred to in the future as the “spoiled, offended generation”. Give your kids a break and start acting like a parent. Discipline them when they portray unacceptable behaviour. Let them watch a movie with crude language and nudity under your supervision.  Take away their tablet and kick them outside for fresh air and a bike ride. In true Lady Leisure form, teach them how to tell a mean “Knock Knock “ joke and how to display wit with ease. Don’t try to be there to catch them BEFORE they fall; just ensure you’re present to dust them off AFTER and say, “Great try, let’s continue practicing/studying/working hard to make next time even better.”

My Kids Don’t Live Here

Someone in our neighborhood pulled a “Claire” (Modern Family reference) and posted large and in charge signs about our choice of driving speed. Here they are:

Give Our Kids a Brake

Give ME a brake.

Yes it is. And I cannot possibly go any more slowly.

Yes it is. And I cannot possibly go any more slowly.

My kids do not live here. I do not have kids. But if I did, I would sure as SHIT- make sure they knew if they EVER played in traffic I would gently slap their hand and take away their iPad.

“No more cyber baking for YOU, missy!”

My God, what have we done with our world and its inhabitants?

If my child were too young to comprehend that the road is a dangerous place, I would put it on an adorable backpack leash and let it get really excited about its bogus freedom. Everyone wins in this situation.

But now, we have these neighbors who MUST let their babies crawl or tweens bike ride on the road by themselves, where there is TRAFFIC! This is the only explanation.

I picture driving up to the offensive signs in my POS Malibu, opening the door and knocking them over. I wouldn’t even do it at night (like they did when they posted them). I want people to witness my outrage.

Just to clarify, the signs are not targeted at me. I drive the speed limit because I was born a goody two shoes, but Jack has been known to charge through the neighborhood at 5AM like a maniac on the odd occasion. Jack was born a shit disturber. However, if your kids are roaming around at that hour, something is deeply wrong.

After the weekend, there is a noticeable bright orange dot of spray paint on one of the signs. By the looks of it, some kid was trying to be a shit disturber (like Jack) and chickened out. If you’re going to vandalize property in this neighborhood, at least finish the job. Don’t be afraid to write something witty either; just get in there and graffiti.

My kids don’t exist, but if they did, they wouldn’t be quitters.