How Moms Are Like Superheroes – New for HuffPo

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Did you  know that as a mom, you totally hone superhero-like skills that you probably never knew you even had?!

It’s true.

Read all about it in my latest article for the Huffington Post.

CLICK HERE TO READ >> http://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/58caaf07e4b0e0d348b340ea

 

NEW Yo! Momma: Navigating the Co-Sleeping Trap

Who’s ready for another collabo with my boys over at Daddy Mind Tricks!?!?

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Welcome to our monthly joint venture we like to call, Yo! Momma. We open up the mailbag to answer the questions from our most faithful readers and bring definitive resolution in the age-old battle of the sexes.

We do so in the only way we know how: with zero filter and 100-percent brutal honesty.

In our last edition, we took on the topic of contributing more around the house and how to avoid looking like a bumbling, stumbling, moronic father figure that a TV sitcom would proudly feature.

In the latest edition collaboration of the best parenting bloggers on the Internet, we’re discussing the idea of co-sleeping and how it can wreak havoc on a couple’s opportunities to enjoy a little sexy time.

You ask. We attempt to answer … and then Rachel from Whine & Cheez(Its) drops some knowledge on your ass to provide the feminine point of view that we all truly need in our lives.

Welcome to another edition of … Yo! Momma.

My wife is all about the co-sleeping with our 13-month old and I’m ready to resume irregularly sexy time stuff. How the hell do I get the kid out of our bed so I can finally have some fun with wifey?

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Pete: Welp, this sounds like the perfect chance to get a little creative outside of the bedroom, if you ask me. We don’t have to hit the time machine on sex life and travel back to the days of missionary position only pleasure under the lights before retreating back to our separate beds after an evening of the Donna Reed Show.

Not having enough sex in your own bed at night because your kid is in the way? Turn up the heat on some daytime fun whenever you can get the chance. Hire a babysitter and get it on in a Burger King bathroom like Humpty (Shock-G) from Digital Underground. Ship the kid off to family member for a night. Get a hotel and fuck like rabbits all over some freshened towels.

My point: don’t be afraid to find some creativity in the game of romance.

Now, that being said, why the hell is your toddler still sleeping in your bed and not in his or her own? Handle that. Perhaps a romp or two in your kitchen while the kid is watching Sesame Street in the other room will help unload some stress and provide clarity into how to get this little one doing 10-12 hours nightly in another bed.

Putting first things first, though – have a conference with wifey, get on the same page about the sleep training situation and get out of the hell that is co-sleeping with a toddler … before your little general can no longer stand tall and proud.

Rachel: First of all – back the fuck up. Chances are she’s not co-sleeping because she enjoys that hot furnace of a baby body all up on her, with sporadic kicks to the gut, arms across her face and a general disrespect for personal space. She’s basically at her “personal touch” limit.

Navigating the ever-changing sleeping patterns of an infant/toddler (among all of the other shit) is no joke and can make you feel like you’re taking crazy pills and hallucinating from sleep deprivation. She’s also probably bombarded by those passive-aggressive “sanctimommies” on the regular, about how their little angel was sleeping alone, through the night at 6 days old. That’s always super fun.

Bottom line? She’s fucking exhausted and tending to a child in those first few years leaves little time for rest, and yes even regular sexcapades. She wants to have sex with you, I promise (unless you’re a raging asshole). She’s just trying to figure it all out. Maybe instead of making her feel like all you want is to boot the kid from the bed so you can knock some boots, show some compassion.

Ask her what you can do to help with the transition. Offer to take another feeding. Do things proactively … sink filled with bottles? Clean it. Running low on diapers? Grab them at the store. Show her you are all about the co-parenting thing and that she has a partner, not just a sex-deprived spouse.

Nothing is more of a panty dropper than a partner who’s understanding AND all-in and hands-on with the kid stuff. It will happen. I promise.

Now it’s YOUR turn. Do you have some more questions for our crackpot team of experts? Drop us a line in the comments section, or hit us up on email at DaddyMindTricks [at] gmail.com and maybe we’ll feature your question in the next edition of Yo! Momma.

Shittiest Day Ever…Literally

You ever have one of those days? You know…the kind where it doesn’t even seem like real life and if someone were to tell you what was going to go down you would never believe them?

That was today.

It started like any normal day…as they do at 9-months pregnant, with an internal at my OBGYN (which is SUPER fun) to check for any progress. From there, I had grand plans to go home, get some work done, do laundry and continue nesting.

However, I walked in to see our chihuahua in position to poop right there on my floor. I rushed him outside, with the grace of a hippo, and we made it just in time. Then when I put the little fucker down, he proceeded to puke all over the floor. Guess he traded one bodily function for another.

I texted Jason and he asked me to drop him at the vet. BTdubs, you should also know, that our other dog just came back from the vet yesterday after having ANOTHER surgery from tearing a second ACL in a month. We singlehandedly keep the vet in business and he’ll probably be able to retire 10 years earlier because of us. You’re welcome, doc.

So here I am, already deviating from my plan, and en route to the vet, when it happens. Spike (the chihuahua) pukes all over my seat…right between my legs, which are in a semi-permanent ajar position on account of my protruding belly.

I moved him over to the passenger seat and that’s when he began to shit his brains out…all over my seat…as I’m driving and simultaneously screaming. Because he wasn’t just expelling waste from his body, he was stepping in it, getting it in between every crevis of his tiny paws.

But wait, there’s more.

I put him in the backseat just praying for traffic to let up so I could get to the fucking vet and he then performs shitshow part deux ALL over the back seat, and then jumps on the center console and drops more between my seats. I’ve never seen so much poop come out of an 8lb dog.

At this point I am crying and dry-heaving. I pull over into a random office parking lot, call my husband and start speaking in tongues. I was 100% hysterical. Jason is no moron, heard my voice and left work immediately (probably because he was a little scared of my exorcist-level emotion…as he should have been at that moment).

As I waited for him, I tried to clean up with the travel-size packet of baby wipes I had in my car, gagging the whole time, and having cars pull up asking if I was ok. I’m guessing the scene of a very pregnant woman, outside her car, all doors open, with a dog on a leash and handfuls of shit-covered baby wipes, is cause for concern.

When Jason arrived, I passed that dog like a dirty fucking baton and peaced-out to the car wash. Obviously I had to drive with the windows open because of the smell, and as I was on the phone crying to my mother, what happens?? A bird, on a wire above the red light I was waiting at, took my cracked window as an open invitation to ALSO take a shit right on my headrest. I wish I was kidding. When I told my mom what was happening through my ugly crying, she was laughing so hard she could not form a coherent sentence and most definitely peed her pants.

At the carwash, I pulled up and they greeted me with the obligatory, “How’s your day?” They did not get the obligatory, “Great! How about you?” in return. What they did get was a rant about how my car was covered in dog puke and shit (did I mention my seats are perforated?) and I needed them to make it like brand new. They just stared at me…then at my belly…then at me again.

I had texted a couple friends about my current situation and one of them basically saved the day (at least for the 2+ hours my car was being detailed). Shirley came to get me so I wouldn’t have to wait.

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Friends pick you up in times of need. Good friends snap a picture of your misery.

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My spirits were IMMEDIATELY lifted just being in her presence, because she does shit like put our karaoke song on without missing a beat.

I accompanied her to the mall where she had some business to take care of, and also hoping that the walking would put me into labor. Almost from the moment we got there, I got looks from mall goers ranging from horrified to lascivious. I don’t know why there is a fear of very pregnant women in public, but there is.

In addition to the crowd ogling me like my baby was crowning, we also saw the usual onslaught of Boca’s finest carting their dogs in strollers. But today was different, because there was a woman pushing around a cat. A CAT, you guys. So naturally we had to follow her into the AT&T store for Shirley to covertly get a picture of her, because how do you not?!?

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When my husband called to check-in (read: make sure I wasn’t humming and rocking myself in a dark corner), I told him I might not come home and may either check myself into a mental ward or spa… game-time decision.

But instead, after Shirley sniff-inspected my newly washed car like McGruff the Crime Dog, I gave myself a small pat on the back  for supporting a local business…

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And said “Boy Bye” to shitmageddon.

Spike is currently on car probation until I emotionally heal.

Here’s to a brand new, shit-free day, tomorrow!

Yo! Momma: I Want To Do More Around The House

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Hi, my name is Rachel and I am super Type A and have a hard time relinquishing control of mundane household and kid-related activities…

So when my brothers from another mother, Pete & Mark from Daddy Mind Tricks tackled THIS reader question…I was ALL over it!

Check out the latest installment of Yo! Momma, about pitching in around the house.

Oh, and got a question you want to submit to get the he said/she said take? Send it our way (see info at the end of the post to submit).

_________________________________________________________________

Welcome to our monthly joint venture we like to call, Yo! Momma. We open up the mailbag to answer the questions from our most faithful readers and bring definitive resolution in the age-old battle of the sexes.

We do so in the only way we know how: with zero filter and 100-percent brutal honesty.

Last time, we took on the topic of sensitive boobs and how to navigate around a perennially sore subject.

In the latest edition collaboration of the best parenting bloggers on the Internet, we’re discussing the tactful approach for men to get more involved around the house, even when wifey isn’t too keen on the concept.

You ask. We attempt to answer … and then Rachel from Whine & Cheez(Its) drops some knowledge on your ass to provide the feminine point of view that we all truly need in our lives.

Welcome to another edition of … Yo! Momma.

Mommy wants to get everything done around the house and won’t let me chip in to help  – admittedly, I’m awful at just about everything outside of boiling water, so I need her to Yoda me. But, I want to have a bigger role, so how do I respectfully tell her that I’m game for more stuff without hurting any feelings or getting in the way?

Pete: Okay, my dude. Time to play a little tough love. You’re going to have to suck it up, put the big boy pants on and learn how to get some shit done around the house – at least learn how to cook a damn meal because that’s some ridiculous shit.

I do applaud that you recognize this flaw in the gameplan and would like to call an audible here to get more involved. Here’s a three-step plan for success that will help ease the transition from bumbling dude to super dad.

First, time to have a chat with wifey. Teammates gotta talk to one another. LeBron James and Kyrie Irving communicate to each other in practice, on the sideline and most definitely on the court. Let your partner know that you want to contribute some more and that you are going to try to improve. Maybe offer to start small and take over a task here or there – like boiling some water to make some pasta at least once a week to cook some dinner.

Second, probably time to learn how to get some things done around the house. Ask wifey to show you some of the smaller things to establish the trust. In all likelihood she’d love to have some assistance in the day-to-day, but just gets caught up in getting it done herself because it’s easier than having to teach someone else and go through the growing pains. Be sure to reinforce that it’s okay if it doesn’t come out totally her way, as long as the kids survive, the house doesn’t burn down, and everyone still has their sanity.

Lastly, read more of this website. Starting with our New Rules to Fatherhood. Take that shit to heart and be ready to step up to the plate to be a fucking father worth crushing the competition by this time next year. Hell, make it part of your New Year’s Goals to find some measurable traits where you can improve.

Your wife will thank you.

Rachel: Wait, did you write this about me?!?! Because this is a real struggle of a Type-A chick. We want to do everything a specific way and can be a royal pain in the ass (guilty). It’s really not that we don’t WANT help from you, it’s just a little challenging to relinquish control after growing a tiny human in your uterus and then pushing it out. Since we did that part totally by ourselves, I think there’s this weird thing that happens that makes us feel nobody could possibly do things the way we would or want to. Yes it’s crazy unrealistic and a little dumb, but it happens.

I think the fact that you even want to have a bigger role and are not just sitting scratching your balls while she’s pumping, or nursing, or washing bottles, etc, is HUGE. When it’s time to feed or bathe the kid, don’t “ask”, just say…”Babe, let me give her a bath and you go sit down for a while.” Or if she’s REALLY a control freak (guilty), tweak it to, “Babe, I want to do bathtime with you…let me help.”

Sure, the first couple of times, she may shoot you down. But if at first you don’t succeed, try, try again. Eventually, she will take you up on it. The worst thing you can do is to just give up and get laser focused on fantasy football while the black circles under her eyes grow to epic proportions. I promise that once she sees you pitch it (and do it well), she’ll let that, “I’m just going to do everything” schtick a rest and be happy to have you on board.

Now it’s YOUR turn. Do you have some more questions for our crackpot team of experts? Drop us a line in the comments section, or hit us up on email at DaddyMindTricks [at] gmail.com and maybe we’ll feature your question in the next edition of Yo! Momma.

The TRUTH about Pregnancy

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So, a while back I penned a brief blog post about some of the perils of pregnancy. But as I approach the finish line of my second pregnancy, I’m reminded about all of the things (really gross things), that most women don’t discuss. And I still don’t get why.

I mean, women are worse than men in terms of the things we talk about (at least my girlfriends are), so why are people so coy to talk about what happens to a woman’s body during pregnancy and labor.

Eff that!

Remember when I posted on Facebook asking for your gross stories? Well, I took them and wrapped them into a disgusting little package with a cute little bow for my latest Huffington Post story.

Read it, share it, own it.

You can click any of the links in this post or use this link>> http://huff.to/2jhI6rW

Just remember to always keep it real mamas!

 

New Year, New Perspective – NEW from Lifestyle Magazine

My January article for Lifestyle Magazine (page 15) is all about a New Year and New Perspective.

Particularly…PEACE. And not just the kind of peace you have when you get to pee alone.

 

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Happy New Year!!

xx

Rachel

The Keep It Real Moms are the Illest!

Episode two is here and it’s FULL of realness. We’re talking about everything, because we just can’t stay on one topic. We’re like PTA moms with ADHD, but cool.

This installment has unfiltered discussions about everything including “shitty” baby shower games, dating ladies, being a boss ass bitch, using the Mensch on the Bench as an enforcer, tooth fairy goals and the worst jobs we’ve ever had.

We jump around like House of Pain, because that’s just what we do.

So take a listen after you put the kiddies to bed, or even while you are laying with them as they watch another painful episode of Dora or, god forbid, Calliou. Just make sure you wear headphones 😉

You can access it here on Soundcloud – https://soundcloud.com/user-997167709/kirm2

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That Time 2 Jewish Hoodrats Fell In Love & Birthed a Really REAL Podcast

I met this chick (over the phone) although we do share many mutual friends, so I suppose we were bound to meet one day. We kibitzed on the phone, first about potential work stuff…but there were sparks.

So we agreed to meet for dinner.

Well, let me tell you that after 7 minutes into our lady date, we were spilling shit about our lives like we knew each other for decades. It was love a first sight I think.

We started texting immediately like a pre-pubescent teenage couple telling each other how much we liked each other. Then we had some PDA on social media, declaring our love for all the world to see.

Then she says four words that seriously took our relationship to the next level.

“Let’s Record a Podcast.”

And like a giddy school girl, I was like “Yes! I do!” Well that’s not entirely true…it was more like “Fuck yeah, let’s record a podcast!”

And so with my computer and the generosity of one of her contacts allowing us to use his recording studio, we met just “to test” the logistics. But instead, we accidentally (and organically) recorded our first episode of, The Keep It Real Moms!

Yup! Two self-proclaimed (somewhat) recovered hoodrats with pasts filled with giant hoop earrings, brown lipstick and mavi jeans, found their way to each other. Because, Kismet.

We decided we were done with the unicorn-laced bullshit other moms pretend go on in their lives and wanted to revel in our crazy, chaotic, happy, sad, complicated, perfectly imperfect trials and tribulations of marriage, motherhood and everything in between.

So….here it is. Our first baby together in what’s sure to be a long-standing “marriage” of sorts.

Nothing is off-limits and we promise to Keep it Real.

LISTEN HERE >>> http://bit.ly/2fikbpP

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Word to your mutha.

Making “Parent” Friends – New Parental Advisory Podcast Episode

Who’s ready for episode 5 of the Parental Advisory Podcast? 

On this one, Daddy Mind Tricks and I talk about the struggle of making parenting friends – and some other stuff, because let’s face it…we like a good tangent.

bit.ly/iTunesPAP

Check it out!!!

 

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Let’s Talk About Sex…

Particularly what happens to sex after you have children.

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On our latest episode of The Parental Advisory Podcast, We’re going there.

We are tackling everything – from porn, to sex rooms, to scheduled sex, to quiet sex and everything else (between the sheets).

Just head over to our iTunes page and look for Episode 4. And if you haven’t checked out the first three installments, today is a GREAT day to binge listen.

Direct Link HERE>>> bit.ly/iTunesPAP

xx,

Rachel