Credit Where Credit is Due

My mother likes to take credit…for pretty much everything.

I’m not kidding. Whether you scored a great deal on a pair of shoes, or won the Nobel Peace Prize, it’s somehow linked to her.

And she’s serious.

100%.

Not only does she like credit, but she will change the details of stories around to make it so that she is fully responsible for whatever awesomeness you have just achieved. She will also do the reverse and claim she had nothing to do with it if your luck goes south.

Need some examples?

  1. My wedding. The second one to be clear. Because she casually mentioned that we should consider Bourbon Steak in the Turnberry resort in the infancy stages of wedding planning, she loves to point it out every chance she gets that we DID in fact get married there and that the wedding was perfect. Every. Chance. She. Gets. It could be as subtle as someone commenting on a wedding pic and her saying, “Yes the kids got married there. It was my idea.” Or more bravado, like pointing it out while we are on her balcony, you might hear her say something along the lines of, “Ava, see that building over there? That’s where mommy and Jason got married! Isn’t it beautiful? It was all gram’s idea. They wanted to get married in some ugly room at a restaurant in Boca that doesn’t even compare to anything in Aventura. Because Aventura is awesome.”
  2. My house. To be fair, my parents were very involved in the house hunting. It was the first time I was ever purchasing a home and I value their opinion. Plus, Bob is a pro with a contractor background so I needed him to point out any red flags before we pulled the trigger. However, my mom seems to remember it very differently and claims to have actually found the house we currently live in (not the case). And when I point out how that’s not at all what went down, she changes her story a little saying things like…”you were looking at dumps on the other side of town until I convinced you to look in this area.”
  3. My stroller. I have like 32 strollers so I didn’t want another one. My mom was trying to convince me (read: nag me) to get a snap & go while Sienna is still in an infant car seat. I did and it’s definitely a huge help. But, every time I take the thing out of the trunk and my mom is around, she circles it like a shark wearing a shit-eating grin and says, “That’s a nice looking stroller.  I mean really. Who told you to get it?”
  4. Diagnosing any medical condition. Jason calls her Dr. Westfall because she thinks she can diagnose any ailment in anyone. Just tell her your symptoms and she will spit out a disease just like WebMD. If she happens to be right you’ll never hear the end of it and if she’s wrong, she’ll find a way to spin it. Either way, she’s right.
  5. Stellar negotiation skills. She goes on and on about what a good negotiatior she is. Specifically with car leases. Because she has a CRAZY low monthly payment for a luxury car…..because she probably put like $15K down. But that’s neither here nor there. She also uses said negotiation skills at Target where she pretends she’s at a folding table on any corner of NYC haggling over a fake Prada. She gives zero fucks. And 99% of the time they listen to her!

That’s just a small sampling of her credit-mongering, but make so mistake that it’s pretty much part of daily conversation and there is no statute of limitations. She’s still talking about things dating back to when I was 14. And it happens with little things too, like telling me how amazing my hair looks and then swiftly reminding me that she’s the one who always tells me to keep it long. Or complimenting a pair of shoes and reminding me that she was the one who told me to look in Bloomingdale’s to find them. Or commenting on how much better Sienna’s fussiness is ever since I bought new bottles like she told me to. It goes on and on and on.

As much as I tease her and bust her balls, I do have to give credit where credit is due. You see, Arlyne is not just a main character in my blogs. She’s not just accidentally hilarious and totally gangster. She is, undoubtedly, the best fucking mother on the planet. She also happens to be the best mother-in-law and grandmother. And, I fully giver her credit for the following, which is by no means an exhaustive list.

I think one of the most important lessons she’s bestowed on me is to not take shit from anyone and not to let anyone bully you or knock you down. Along this same lines, she is the epitome of a mama bear. She taught me to fiercely protect my young and to destroy anyone who tries to mess with them. This woman will hold a grudge against you for the rest of your life if you even look at either of her children sideways.

She’s also the best cheerleader. She celebrates my successes and kvells, no matter how small. She loves me so hard and I feel it in every fiber of my body. I want my girls to feel that same way about me. She has always gone above and beyond for her kids and spoils the shit out of mine. Ava lives for her and to see the bond they have makes me burst with pride. I know Sienna will feel the same. She’s the fun grandma. The one who teaches you how to make prank phone calls and will use the word “fart” in a game of hangman.

She taught me all the “mensch” things like never showing up to someone’s home for an event/dinner/whatever, without something for them. To always write thank you notes when someone gives a gift. She’s not a regular mom, she’s a cool mom. She’d never be caught dead in a sweater set from Chicco’s or Ann Taylor and rocks a black beater and skinny jeans pretty much every day. She’s probably the reason I don black nail polish and skull & cross bone tanks in the carpool line.

She’s hilarious and doesn’t even understand why we are laughing half the time. The things that come out of her mouth are sometimes hard to mentally prepare for, but also the best. Watching her go through an ugly divorce and surviving breast cancer showed me by example what a fighter looks like. She’ll hug me and let me cry if I’m at a low but in the same breath tell me to get my ass up and remember who I am – the little girl who pushed her way to the front of the group in a dance recital when I was like 4, because I wanted to be front and center.

One of the things I admire most about her is the fact that nobody keeps it realer than her. She tells it like it is and owns who SHE is, no matter what. You can’t rattle her and if she feels under attack she will defend herself, strike back and take you down.

There is nobody on the planet like her and I’m so glad she’s ours. Happy Mother’s Day Mom. We love the shit out of you!

 

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me and mom

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From Bejiggly to Bellefit (GIVEAWAY ALERT!!!)

During pregnancy, you spend 9 months (or an eternity if you are April the giraffe) watching your body expand in ways you didn’t think possible.

With both of my pregnancies I pretty much peed on a stick and as soon as the tests were positive, I had offensively huge boobs, my waist was gone, and the “birthing hips” emerged.

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Approximately 7 months

I’m also petite, ringing in at a whopping 5 foot 1, so there’s only so much real estate on my body. I tend to show later – like after 18/20 weeks, but once that happens I basically can’t breathe because my stomach is up to my throat.

With my first pregnancy, eight plus years ago, I gained a total of 25 pounds and hung on to the last 8-10 pounds for about a year. I blame it on living in Boston at the time and needing insulation from the cold. I knew nothing of post-partum girdles and corsets back then. Nothing.

My most recent pregnancy was MUCH different. First of all, I was 39 and I honestly feared how my “advanced maternal age” would affect weight gain and weight loss. Plus, at 32 weeks I got thrown for a loop when I was put on bedrest for the remainder of my pregnancy because of some spotting. Up until that point, I clocked an hour on the treadmill (just walking) every. damn. day…trying to maintain an active lifestyle.

Still, with life as a mom, running a very energetic 8-yr-old from school, to dance, to playdates, etc., coupled with a two hospital visits, a first trimester of dry heaving and puking, and a dash of someone looking down on me saying, “she’s been through the ringer…let’s throw her a bone”, I only managed to gain a total of 18 pounds and still birthed a healthy, 8-pound, baby girl.

9 months

I had the balls to allow a film crew in my house to film something for our alma mater (Go Gators) at nine months preggo, even though it’s a known thing that the camera adds 10 pounds.

All of that being said, I turned 40 just two weeks after delivering, and that was looming in the back of my head. EVERYTHING is harder when you’re older, including losing baby weight. Thankfully, you lose a significant amount on the table, which provides a nice running start. But then this thing happens to your body. In minutes you go from having a hard round belly filled with a baby, to an empty one that is so bejiggly (don’t fake the funk, mamas), that you don’t even know what to do with it. And it happens no matter how much weight you’ve gained. It can be a confidence killer.

This is where I discovered the magic of Bellefit. And it is magic, IF you use it as directed.

I received a bundle, which contained a dual-closure girdle and a corset. The website is great and walks you through exactly what size to order, but I did speak with a real person because I was cocky and thought I for sure would need a small. Pffft. Spoiler alert – I was wrong.

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With this bundle, you get two sizes so that you basically ease into wearing it and tighten it as you go along. So I started with a large girdle and worked my down to the medium corset. I had no idea how long it would take to see results, nor when I should tighten things up, so I just went with what felt right. I began wearing it the day I was discharged from the hospital (two days postpartum), from the moment I woke up to the second I went to bed. I did not sleep in it (although some people do). There’s also an accompanying free app that helps track progress. (Sidenote: My phone used to be filled with nothing but an iTunes account brimming with 90s hip-hop and multiple photo filter apps to give the appearance of Botox. Now it’s filled with apps to track baby weight loss, the last time I fed my child, and live baby monitor feeds.)

Then….when I had a photographer in my home to do a newborn shoot/family photos seven days after delivery, something happened that rocked my world. I took my favorite AG skinny jeans out of my closet and had a stare down with them. In my head, this voice was saying, “Back away from the skinny jeans…you are only setting yourself up for disappointment.” But I flicked that voice off and started one leg at a time…fast like pulling off a band aid. And…They. Effing. Fit. No shimmying, no lying on the bed, nada. They slid right on like I hadn’t skipped a beat and I wanted to cry.

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That’s when I started to do measurements. I’ve never been one to weigh myself or attach a number to anything physically, because it messes with my sanity. I much prefer to judge how I’m doing based on how I feel, look and how my clothes fit. So busting out the measuring tape and scale was out of character for me, but I felt like I needed cold, hard, quantifiable evidence that this was really happening. It went something like this…

11 days pp

one month pp

2 months pp

Here are some other deets and a timeline for my experience.

2/8/17: (two days postpartum) I started wearing the dual-closure girdle on the looser hooks. You will have to lie down to get it closed at first, and it is tight. But not debilitating tight. It actually feels really good and supportive keeping you all sucked in. It feels good from a posture perspective too.

My experience was definitely faster than I anticipated. On day 4, I no longer had to lie down to get it closed. That was so motivating, I did the jig in front of my mirror.

2/18/17: Graduated to tighter hooks on dual-closure girdle without lying down!

3/6/17: (one month postpartum) This is when I measured my hips. At 39 weeks pregnant, my hips were 41 inches. At one month postpartum, wearing Bellefit, I was at 38 inches and graduated to the medium corset on the looser hooks. And hips don’t lie…ask Shakira.

3/25/17: Graduated to tighter hooks on corset and continue to wear it presently and track my progress.

Guys, even my newborn can’t believe it!

sienna

A few more things to know.

This is NOT one of those Kardashian-esque waist trainers. It’s a legit post-partum support system made of medical grade materials.

I wear Bellefit like its my religion. It’s the first thing I put on when I wake up, after I pee holding one child with the other one yelling at me to pour her milk. I am better at sticking to my Bellefit regimen than I am at remembering if I brushed my teeth or put on deodorant before I head to the carpool line (#newmomprobs).

Speaking of peeing…In the interest of full disclosure, I am telling you now to allot time to get the hooks undone before you have to pee. Even if you are the queen of kegels, sometimes you are ready to pee before you realize it. Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about, mamas.

*****GIVEAWAY TIME!!!*****

Bellefit is, without question, one of my favorite things on the planet and their customer service is just as good as their products. They’re supportive and knowledgable and, such an awesome company. So awesome, as a matter of fact, that they are allowing me to give away a Bellefit bundle (1 Bellefit Corset & 1 Bellefit Dual-Closure Girdle, retail price $254!) to one lucky reader!

bundle

To enter, head over to my Instagram (@whineandcheezits) and follow the directions on the post there. It will be the one with the picture from this post of me wearing my skinny jeans and shocked look, because I live for that picture and that moment.

You can also receive $20 off your Bellefit order, using the promo code RACHEL20. So really, everyone is a winner!! Use this link to order >> https://www.bellefit.com/a/6/

The Bellefit Bundle giveaway is open through Friday, April 14th and the winner will be announced on Instagram shortly after.

Good luck!!

Bellefit Postpartum Girdles and Corsets

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

 

Not My First Rodeo

Last time I was pregnant was almost eight years ago. Here I am again, growing a human inside me but things are a little different. Most obviously, the fact that this is my second marriage which means I have two baby daddys. Guys, I’m basically like a rapper now.

gangta

Now, with another little girl cooking, it’s hard not to notice the differences from the first time around.

While I was not even a little bit neurotic during my first pregnancy, I was much more on the ball with a lot of “stuff” that accompanies pregnancy.

1. YOU BASICALLY CAN’T EAT OR DRINK ANYTHING

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There are so effing many rules. No deli meats, no soft cheeses, no wine (FML), no sushi, no advil, and the list keeps growing. As a mother, wine and advil are usually staples, so that hurts. During my first pregnancy I adhered to EVERY rule without deviation. I just felt like even though I knew they were super conservative and I probably wouldn’t harm my fetus with a Boars Head Honey Maple Chicken Sub from Publix (great…now I want one), I didn’t think anything was worth messing with the rules, archaic or not. God forbid something DID happen, it would be a mindfuck of epic proportions and I would carry guilt forever. I have enough since I’m Jewish, so I didn’t need to roll the dice. I’m a strong motherhustler, so there’s nothing I can’t do without for 9 months.

Except coffee. So this time around I do have one cup a day and I’m not ashamed. Mommy’s sanity is crucial to a functioning household and coffee helps achieve that. Also, I pretty much needed ginger ale intravenously during the first trimester of this pregnancy and I opted for diet (OH THE HORROR!! I KNOW!). But I’m sorry, I think it’s like splitting hairs to determine what’s worse – the amount of sugar I would have ingested in regular versions compared to the “diet” version demons.

2. MY BABY IS THE SIZE OF A WHAT?

kumquat

Yes, the first time I was  dutifully subscribed to those emails I would get each week informing me that my child was the size of a kumquat or some other exotic fruit. I read each one diligently about what body part was forming and what was happening in my womb. This time, however, I have literally lost count of how many times I have called my OBGYN to ask how far along I am. Not kidding.

3. EAU DE BUG SPRAY

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This whole Zika thing is a maje buzzkill for a pregnant chick, especially one living in a Zika hotbed known as South florida. This one scares me, because even doctors are skittish about it since there are so many unknowns. So…that means I have spent tons of money to douse myself in CDC approved bug spray every time I leave the house so I can have peace of mind. But wait, there’s more. Because this gem of an epidemic can be sexually transmitted, my husband is also forced to get in on this trend. No spray, no lay. There was nothing even close to this during my first pregnancy.

Those are some of the major differences but there are also some striking similarities.

  1. THE HORMONES

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I cry at the drop of a pin. Yes, I am emotional non-pregnant and admittedly a crier, but this is next level shit. It happens out of nowhere sometimes and once the floodgates open there’s no stopping it. It also happens when I get upset or frustrated (just like during non-preggo life), but again, it’s MUCH more severe. Like when the people my husband hired to put plywood up for the last “storm” (Hurricane Matthew) that threatened us, failed to deliver at almost the 11th hour and I had a full-on exorcist level melt down. I sufficiently scared the shit out of SLS, which is why he looked at me in the eyes and told me there would be wood on the windows if he had to “drive to fucking Naples to get it”. And he delivered (thankfully without having to make that drive).

2. I’M PREGNANT, NOT BLIND

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I still hate maternity clothes and basically stick to t-shirts and jeans because I think the people who design them are fucking high. In what universe does ANY pregnant woman look good in horizontal stripes and strategically placed bows and things that awkwardly blouse around your growing bump like a potato sack? It’s ridiculous.

3. I DRAW THE LINE AT CHARACTER ONESIES

mickey-mouse-2

One of the biggest similarities from pregnancy number 1 to 2, revolves around baby clothing. There is so much cute stuff to outfit your baby. But for everything I love, there are ones that I seriously cannot stand. I’m probably the minority in this and I recognize that, but I HATE HATE HATE anything emblazoned with a cartoon character like mickey, minnie, pooh, etc. I also have a similar dislike for items that say things like, “Daddy’s Little Girl” or “If you think I’m cute you should see my mom” or “What happens at Grandma’s stays at grandma’s”. And I love a good graphic tee! But unless it’s truly clever and witty, it will never touch my child’s body. I didn’t dress my kid in that stuff the first time and it ain’t happening this time either. While maternity clothes may still suck, baby clothing designers at least have continued to step up their game for sure.

Above all, pregnancy brings a lot of opinions and perspectives (which is precisely why we aren’t sharing names before she’s here so stop asking) and a shit load of unsolicited and even passive aggressive advice – “You’re doing THAT during pregnancy.” That will never change…you just have to be good at ignoring it and doing your thing. Do what YOU feel is right and listen to your doctors, not the internet. Eat what you want, wear what you want, dress your kid how you want.

It’s your uterus, mamas. Am I right?

The Motherhood Edition of Jewish Holidays – NEW from Suburban Misfit Mom

As featured on Suburban Misfit Mom

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The Motherhood Edition of Jewish Holidays

By Jen Schwartz (The Medicated Mommy) & Rachel Sobel (Whine & Cheez – its)

Early fall is Jewish holiday season. That means going to temple, eating apples and honey in hopes of a sweet year ahead, family dinners filled with equal parts kvelling & kvetching, and a day of starvation fasting that culminates in the annual carb loading frenzy with bagels, lox, noodle kugel, and cookies. Lots of cookies. You know…a “light” meal.

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And if your child attends a Jewish preschool/day school, you are basically screwed and they may as well close for the month of October with the amount of days you have off.

That’s right folks, we are currently living in the space between the Jewish New Year (Rosh Hashanah) and the Day of Atonement (Yom Kippur) where we atone for our sins and hope to make it into the Book of Life for another year.

Lucky for us, Jews get to make New Years’ resolutions twice. You know, if for some reason you bailed on the ones you made in January for the non-secular New Year, here’s a second chance in October. I don’t know about you, but we’re still eating cake, ice cream and half-consumed bags of goldfish and desperately trying to fit into our skinny jeans because even though we get dressed in workout clothes every day, we don’t actually go work out every day. It’s kind of like our uniform for school drop off and the couple hours following. That is until we can pee and shower without a child opening the door a trillion times asking us to change the channel when the remote control is actually in their little sticky hands.

smm-mommin

Thinking about how you want to live in the Jewish New Year is both a blessing and a curse…because as you start to make promises to yourself about the year ahead, you are also going backwards to relive those times this past year you might not be so proud of. And as moms, there are definitely a few that come to mind. So, rather than focus on personal transgressions this year, we are confessing ours sins of motherhood. Let this be our atonement for:

  • Lying to our children (and maybe even setting the clocks forward) to convince them it’s bedtime so you have enough time to shower and settle in before Bachelor in Paradise.
  • Telling them a store is closed (at 3pm on a Thursday) because you just don’t feel like going to buy another pack of shopkins.
  • Having a salad for dinner but then polishing off the abandoned chicken-nuggets your child left on their plate.
  • Forgetting to wash a school uniform and digging a dirty one out of the hamper, spraying it with Febreze and sending them on their way.
  • Being so desperate to finish homework that you may have “led the witness” to arrive at the correct answer.
  • Letting your child watch back-to-back (and by back-to-back we mean 10) episodes of their favorite show just so you could put the finishing touches on your contributed article with the looming deadline.
  • Regifting a target gift card for a birthday party because you spaced and forgot to grab a gift.

In light of these confessions, here are our Jewish New Year’s resolutions– what we hope to do better or more of as moms in the coming year. And if we fail or don’t hit them all, January is right around the corner!

  • Telling the truth, as in when we inform our little ones that ice cream is not a dinner food, we also don’t eat ice cream for dinner or in other words, I will fit into those skinny jeans!
  • Not beating ourselves up when we need just one more hour of sleep so, without making any eye contact, we slip the iPad through the cracked door of our kids’ bedrooms.
  • Losing the guilt when our child watches ten episodes of Mickey Mouse Clubhouse in one sitting because binge watching is clearly a skill they will need when they get older.
  • Admitting that our kids are assholes sometimes because when they are lying face down on the floor screaming, kicking their legs, and shouting “NO” on repeat over not being ready to go to sleep or do anything you ask them to do, they are being assholes!
  • Not stressing about our kids still sleeping in pullups at night because let’s be real, who wants to start their morning cleaning up shit, changing sheets, and doing even more laundry?
  • Understanding that it’s okay to ask our husbands to do parent things like watch the kids, help with homework, feed them dinner, and handle bath time because they aren’t simply babysitters, they are dads and it’s their job too!
  • Realizing motherhood is effing hard and it’s okay to serve cereal for dinner (hey, it’s good enough for breakfast), put ourselves first, ask for what we want, leave the kids home with a babysitter, and drink all the wine…because happy mommy equals happy everyone!

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8 Relatable Things About “Bad Moms”

One of the most talked about/anticipated movies in the carpool line recently is Bad Moms. And for good reason.

We’re used to seeing blockbusters detailing the raucous humor behind a bromance, but let’s be honest, most movies with female leads end up gravitating toward the cheesy side (except Bridesmaids…that was a winner).

Well…all I have to say is that I was lucky enough to see the advanced screening of Bad Moms and it did NOT disappoint. (Also, Dear Mila Kunis, I’m more in love with you now than I was before and that’s A LOT!)

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While it’s hilarious and maybe at times a little exaggerated (but seriously, not by much), it’s such a good representation of motherhood on so many levels. The characters range from single mom to working mom to SAHM and there’s literally something everyone can latch on to in all of these women.

After practically peeing my pants  from laughing so hard too many times to count throughout the movie (thanks a lot childbirth), I came up of a list of the most relatable things Bad Moms brings to the table.

1. It’s hard to find real mom friends and you have to weed through some real bullshit personalities (and even get burned) to find them in the end. But it’s worth it when you find your true momsquad.

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2. If you’re in a marriage where your husband expects you to do everything for the kids (especially just because you are a SAHM), you better nip that in the bud and level the scales sister.

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3. Everyone needs that one inappropriate mom friend with no filter who just does not give a shit.

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4. Alpha PTA moms are the worst and can suck the happiness out of any situation.

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5. Raising kids is effing hard.

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6. All moms need some time away from the kids to let loose once in a while.

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7. You never know what is going on behind closed doors – with someone’s kids, in someone’s marriage, with someone’s psyche – so don’t rush to judgement and be kind to one another.

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8. As moms, all we can do is the best we can; and your best may not be mine and vice versa.

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So do yourself a favor mamas, see this movie as soon as it’s out.

And when you get to the hoodie/sweatshirt scene, if you do not suffocate from laughing uncontrollably, know that something is very wrong with you. Very wrong.

xx

Rachel

 

 

Yo! Momma: When is sex after pregnancy OK? You ask. We answer.

If you haven’t heard about my work husbands yet (yes I have two), you are really missing the boat. I’m in a polygamist work marriage with two daddy bloggers that just get me…and I them. We have some really exciting stuff in the works but in the meantime, to keep you entertained, we’re dropping a new regular feature called, “Yo Momma”.

Yo Momma Logo

The guys will pose questions and then answer them to the best of their daddy knowledge, and then momma (that’s me) is going to swoop in and do her thing.

Please check out the first installment below and also check out their blog, DaddyMindTricks. They are the Rob to my Base and I promise you’ll love it!!

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We know a lot here at DaddyMindTricks, from health to gaming to drinking, we’ve pretty much got the whole How to the an Awesome Dad thing on lock. But even well­ schooled totally­ cultured and distinguished gentlemen cannot pretend to have all of the answers to all of the questions that this crazy world has to offer.

That’s why we’ve brought in some help from our favorite wine­ guzzling, curse ­word ­spewing, Biggie/Tupac­ listening Mommy Blogger to help sort out some of the most fucked up shit that our readers write in to ask. If you are afraid to chat to your own wife, girlfriend, partner, paramour about it, have no fear because Rachel from Whine & Cheez(Its) is here to drop some knowledge bombs on your ass.

When Rachel and DaddyMindTricks first formed a team like Raekwon and Ghostface Killah on a dope Wu­Tang joint, we pulled no punches on this whole truthiness about parenting in the 21st Century. Read all about that here: Great Expectations (in Fatherhood).

In a feature that has been long overdue, we’ve joined forces yet again. In what could be a colossal mistake, we’ve decided to open up the vault into the minds of our most passionate fans in the potential beginning of the end … or at least the beginning a regular feature that promises to be Dear Abby with much more inappropriateness and straight up real talk.

You ask. We attempt to answer. And then Rachel provides the feminine point of view that we all truly need in our lives. Welcome to … Yo! Momma.

After a few weeks of the post­ pregnancy moratorium on our sex lives, we finally have the green­light to get it on again, but my wife isn’t back on birth control yet. What kind of condoms do you recommend for “her pleasure?”

– Daniel, Missouri

Pete: Dude. Are you really even ready to go back to the scene of the crime? Hopefully you weren’t dumb enough to peek at the business end of the delivery, because we’ve warned you before about how much of a straight up murder scene it is down there. But hey, I get it, too. Men definitely have that primal urge to get back on the saddle sooner rather than later. So, if you are ready to revisit the extracurriculars in the bed and enjoy some of that sex after pregnancy fun, open up the line of communication, chat with the baby mama about her fears and concerns and take it slow. As for the condoms, let’s just go ahead and bust your bubble that no one needs the extra-large Magnum XL variety, so just stop with that pipe dream, Ron Jeremy. Instead, make sure you find one that has some extra bells and whistles for her … and even more importantly, lube. The hormones involved with pushing watermelons out of spaces the size of grapes takes a toll on that region and some additional assistance in the lubrication may be preferred. At the end of the day, though, kudos to you for thinking that you actually have the time and energy to get it on again in between the newborn diaper changes and feedings.

Rachel: First of all, slow your roll. Your wife just created a human and then either squeezed it out of an insanely small space or was gutted like a fish to take it out by force, protected only by a barely opaque surgical “curtain” all while wearing an ugly shower cap, no makeup and having a million hands up in her business. And then you brought the screaming bundle of joy home and she became a human cow or master bottle barista, to feed a kid who never seems to get full. She hardly has time to shower, she put hemorrhoid cream on her toothbrush instead of Crest and didn’t even notice the taste because she’s so sleep deprived and she basically can’t tell if it’s night or day. She now judges time by how many bottles are left in the fridge and how many diapers the baby has been through. So yeah, condoms and your sexual needs are the last thing on her mind. Her body is still kind of reeling from the trauma of carrying and birthing a child and that shit takes time to snap back (screw you if you were back in a bikini 5 minutes later btdubs). I mean she just evicted a baby from her womb and she’s entitled to keep that door shut no matter what timeline the doctor gives. So be compassionate, and tell her what a badass she is and how you are in awe of her as a mother and offer to let her sleep in … because that’s the shit that will eventually get you laid.

My wife is still carrying a little holiday weight, and it’s almost summertime. How do softly and gently nudge her to workout a little more often?

– Craig, Vancouver

Pete: Yeah, so first thing’s first is to stand up right now. Stand up straight and tall and proud. And then go ahead and tilt your neck down and look towards the floor. If you’ve got a gut protruding out from the midsection area that is blocking the ability to see your junk or even your toes … shut the fuck up and hit the weights yourself, homie (you know, that whole stones and glass houses thing). Now, if you’ve got that body like The Rock and you need to get the wife looking more like J­Lo, then try putting some of the onus on yourself, as well. Nothing works better than working as a team. Suggest some ways for both of you to get active. Find some ways to encourage more healthy meal prep as a couple – make it a cute little date night. If you can work together on this, you’ll be more likely to stick to your routine and to eventually reach your goal.

Rachel: Can I get an amen for the FIRST part of Pete’s answer? If you want to keep your manhood in tact, back off. She knows she’s carrying extra weight … trust me. And while I am all for honest communication, this is a slippery slope. If she brings it up, that’s one thing … and your first response should be, “you are perfect” followed by …”what can I do to support you?” If she suggests date night at the gym, or hiring a personal trainer to get her ass in gear, or wants to take a spin class while you’re on dad duty a couple nights a week, do it. I’m wired differently, so if my husband suggested we meal prep “for fun” I’d be irrationally mad and tell him, you know what else you can do “for fun”? Sleep on the couch. I know it may seem unfair because we want you to read our minds, but the reality is, we want you to want to have sex with us no matter how big our love handles are. So make her feel sexy and desired and loved … unconditionally and she’ll get there.

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.

Boom goes the dynamite.

boom

My Daughter Said the F Word…and I Laughed – NEW on Suburban Misfit Mom

 

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I will be the first to admit that I curse like a sailor. Sometimes because I’m pissed off, sometimes for emphasis and sometimes just because. And my husband thinks it’s hot, FYI. Fucking sue me.

Actually, most of my family has major potty mouth. We are a mishmash of loud mouth South Floridians/New Yorkers and it’s just the way it is. But somehow, we have all managed to pull it together, turn into nuns around my child, and keep that explicit language away from her, and she has the mouth of a saint. It’s really a miracle that she wasn’t born sounding like a mini Andrew Dice Clay.

So you can imagine my surprise as we headed to Disney World, the happiest place on earth, and as I was getting visibly frustrated with the stupid navigation, I hear a little voice from the backseat say, with pigtails and perfect annunciation – “Fuck!”

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At first I pretended not to hear it and calmly said “What did you just say?”

She looked like I just told her Mickey Mouse died and I could tell she was scared to engage in this line of questioning. She turned mute and deflected all of my questions with sheepish looks and welled-up eyes, only giving me a thumbs-up when I asked if she said a bad word. I told her she cannot say bad words and I didn’t want to hear it ever again.

Meanwhile, in the front seat, with my mother sitting next to me, it was taking everything in me/us not to laugh out loud. Because you know what? It was funny and caught me off guard. I’m human and while I’m sure there are some mothers who are getting riled up just reading this, I’m not sorry. It’s the same kind of inappropriate laughter you may have when someone takes a really bad spill.

I was doing the silent laugh thing where you turn purple and tears pour out of your eyes and you snort, while you try and get your shit together. I couldn’t catch my breath. I was also stunned that she used it in the perfect setting and context. Had she NOT been in the car, it would have been exactly what I said to the annoying bitch who constantly screws up my voice-activated navigation efforts.

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Seven years of a pure-as-the-driven-snow vernacular destroyed in 2 seconds, and she didn’t hear it from us, so what happened?

After a few hours, when we were alone and my mom was in the hotel room, my little angel asked me what “it” meant. How the fuck do you really explain “fuck” to a 7-year-old? I took a breath, looked at her and told her that it’s what lots of people use instead of saying something like, “oh no!” or “oh shoot!” when they get super frustrated or angry. No need to delve into the “other” meanings right now. I asked her where she learned it and she said, a friend at school. (I’d also like to say that I’d much rather be the one whose kid is on the learning end than the one getting the phone calls for being on the teaching end.)

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The way I saw it, I had two choices here. I could shame her for saying it. Make her feel really sorry and scared and never say it again. Or, I could engage in open dialogue to put an end to it. While I do not condone my child cursing, I’m not the “wash your mouth with soap” kind of mom. I’ve never used words like “hoo ha” and “pee pee” to describe body parts. I’m a straight shooter so I decided to stay true to that. I told her that she was probably going to hear A LOT of other words and weird things at school and that I always wanted her to feel comfortable asking me what they mean or if they are okay to say. That’s when she said, “You mean, like the word ‘Fuck’”.

OY!

Yes, just like that word I said, and you will never get in trouble if you are asking me about a word like that. I realized I needed to be more clear though because she “mouthed” it once more, as if the lack of audible noise made it okay. And I could tell she wasn’t trying to necessarily push boundaries. The kid was curious.

Curiosity is fine, I told her, but you will be in big trouble if I hear you using it after I’ve explained that it’s wrong. Capiche?

It wasn’t uttered again and we went on to enjoy our weekend. But I kept replaying it in my head. Did I answer correctly? Did I get the point across? And for the love of god, if she already knows the F word, where do we go from here? It’s like she skipped the remedial cursing. What happened to “shit”?

I know this isn’t the last of the cursing convos but I’m pretty proud of how I handled it. As a parent – strict or laid back – I don’t know if you can ever prepare yourself for that first dirty word leaving their innocent little lips. I feel like it’s a weird rite of passage and can only imagine the words currently swirling around 1st grade recess. I supposed I should feel thankful it took this long!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I Pity the Fool – NEW From Lifestyle Magazine

Being a mom means being bombarded with TONS of advice. Some good, some bad and some just downright annoying. The worst of it though, is the unsolicited advice.

I have a picky eater, who won’t take medicine, and still wakes up multiple times a night to come and get me to lay with her. And there are always those women who think they are going to save me. They seem to think they have all the answers and will not stop shoving them down my throat.

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Please for the love of god, just stop.

My child is never going to let me hide meds in chocolate pudding or applesauce – because she won’t eat those things on a regular day. She’s also not going to stay in her bed because I make a glittery sticker chart. I’m well aware of areas that need to be worked on, but would love a little support instead of passive aggressive “suggestions”. I know i’m not alone!

This is such a hot button topic for me, that it’s what I wrote about in my April Lifestyle Magazine column. BTDubs, That’s me channeling Mr. T…get it?

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A Week of Dogs, Shoes, Wine and Food!

If you can’t already tell. I love all things food and wine. A lot.

So one of the biggest perks of making this little old blog my livelihood, instead of just a hobby, is that I get some invitations to events that revolve around two of my favorite things.

This week alone, I was fortunate enough to attend two local events which fit that bill.

On Sunday, I was in Palm Beach at Mar-a-Lago for the 3rd annual Women, Wine and Shoes event, to benefit the Big Dog Ranch Rescue. What made it even better was that I was able to be there to help one of my favorite companies I recently became familiar with, One Hope Wine. You might remember them from a previous post about a tasting in my home, and their to-die-for glitter bottles.

But let me tell you more about what went on at Mar-a-Lago! There were dogs there dressed better than some of Palm Beaches’ Finest.

Don’t believe me?

This happened and it was glorious.

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The sold out event featured world-class wineries, luxurious boutiques, Extravagant Live Auction Items, A Doggy Fashion Show and Couture Fashion Show, plus Glamorous Swag Bags valued at over $500.

There was even some eye-candy walking around with gorgeous shoes by Marchesa, on a silver platter (well-played by the event organizers, Ticket2Events).

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And I got to ogle the beautiful Tamara Mellon stunners sitting in the booth behind me, in between pouring delish One Hope wine for attendees.

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(Seriously, I might give up an organ for these beauts)

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And in the end, the event raised $850,000 for the Big Dog Ranch Rescue, whose mission is to  give the gift of life to as many dogs as humanly possible, and enrich the lives of those who adopt them!

How amazing is that???

Then, yesterday, I attended a media lunch at Thasos Greek Taverna in Fort Lauderdale. Chef Athinagoras Kostakos from Bill & Coo hotel in Mykynos prepared a special tasting menu and discussed modern Greek Cuisine. We also were able to sample Greek Mastiha (that’s liquor, people) from Ambrosia Group/ FOS.

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The dishes were as delicious as they were beautiful to look at. And I even put my big girl panties on and tried lamb for the first time ever. You may be rolling your eyes but just know that is a BIG deal for me.

 

So let me just make sure you understand. Yesterday…for my job…I got to go to an awesome local restaurant and eat a delicious meal prepared by a chef visiting from Mykonos.

My god did I make the right decision leaving a miserable job!

Stay tuned for more Whine & Cheez(its) event posts and if you ever want to feed me delicious food and wine, you know where to find me 😉

xx

Rachel