Designer Vaginas are a Thing Now


I don't know about you ladies, but as I get older I'm finding that a lot of things are .... changing.

My laugh lines aren't disappearing when I'm done laughing, my middle is getting softer, I'm taking more and more trips to the hairdresser to keep the gray hairs under control, and my libido isn't what it used to be.

None of these bother me (and the Hubs) as much as my waning sex drive. I've been looking everywhere for a solution and I've yet to find one. Until today.

This Letter Stopped Me in My Tracks

Photo by Jordan Whitt
School started a few weeks ago, and we're still trying to get back into the swing of things. I don't know about you, but it's been tough. Are you back in the routine yet?

Our morning routine is pretty standard. The Hubs wakes up early to get the kids ready for the day. At 7:30 am, he starts out by yelling -- I mean, gently wakes up the kids. Every morning I hear "Adolpha, get down here and get dressed" and Gomer "Get dressed and brush your teeth." Some days there is more yelling than others.

This morning was one of those mornings. Both kids woke up grumpy and sluggish and there was more than the normal drama to deal with. Gomer had lost a shoe and Adolpha was refusing to brush her teeth. I had had it. I was trying to make lunches when I found Adolpha's take home folder on the counter, buried under some junk mail. It was stuffed with papers that she had not shown me. I was so irritated. She doesn't have many jobs, but she is supposed to empty her folder each night and show me what's been sent home so I don't miss anything important. I flung open the folder and started slamming papers on the counter, saying, "Adolpha, you know you're supposed to empty your folder! Why can't you do what you are supposed to?"

Open Letter to Sadist Teachers


Pick your poison.  I've got all sizes covered this year.

Guess what this week is? BACK TO SCHOOL!!

I'm not excited at all. Can you tell? We've had a great summer. I took my kids to New York City, Washington, D.C., and McPherson, KS - all vacation hot spots. What more could a kid ask for? We've got a couple more days to get ready for the Big Day. I plan to have the kids thoroughly clean out their closets and then get drunk on television, because once school starts they'll have to earn that privilege. (The TV thing, not the closets. They can clean closets whenever they'd like.) Wednesday will be meet the teacher and drop off all your school supplies and I can tell you right now, I still don't know the difference between a "plastic" pocket folder and a "poly" pocket folder. I guessed. I don't know what they're made of, but they're not paper and they do have pockets. I DO know my colors, so I bought green, red, yellow, purple, and blue ones as I was instructed. I was able to cross that part off my list with confidence! I also could not find the particular brand of pencils that was asked for. We got the "skippies" of the pencil world: whatever brand Wal Mart had on sale.

Just Because Kids Are Physically Ready, It Doesn't Always Mean They're Ready


This week I dropped off Gomer for his first day of high school.

I think he was in kindergarten when I started this blog, so I can't even right now. This raising teen stuff is hard. I'll take potty-training any day of the week, please.

A lot has changed over the years. He's now taller than me (which isn't that hard), hairier than me (which is harder than you'd think), and quieter than me (no one in this family is louder than me, although Adolpha's trying to take that spot).

Anyone Else Falling Apart Or Is It Just Me?


So I'm pretty sure I'm going through a midlife crisis. I feel like I'm falling apart. I feel like the more I try to keep from falling apart, the faster I fall apart. I feel like I'm drowning and I can't breathe. And, on top of all that, I also feel numb. I'm not positive that's a midlife crisis, because when I Google midlife crisis or signs of a midlife crisis, so much of the information points to how men feel or how men can cope. There's not a lot of information out there for women.

I thought, Maybe it doesn't happen to us? No, I think it's more like we don't talk about this stuff. 

I was reminded of a story about my overwhelmed great-grandmother asking her doctor for some help and he told her, "Nice women don't discuss such things."

Nice women don't discuss such things.

I guess it's a good thing I'm not a nice woman? Because I'm ready to discuss this uncomfortable topic.

I'm miserable. I've been feeling this way for about a year now and I was afraid to say anything even to my closest friends and family. It's a really shitty thing to say out loud, because I know it hurts the people close to me, plus it just sounds like typical suburban angst. If I was a refugee somewhere, I wouldn't get the luxury to say, "I'm just not happy." I'm not running for my life, I'm not watching people around me get murdered, I don't have any real strife in my life, so what the fuck? Buck up! Right?  

I don't know, though. Don't I deserve to be happy? Don't I owe it to myself? Isn't that what I'm always preaching? Or am I supposed to keep this all to myself and just muddle through and not make waves?

Parents Who Let Their Children Dress Sexy

By now you've figured out that I don't like weak parents.  I don't like parents who let the kids call all the shots.  I don't like parents who want to be their children's friend.  I don't like parents who sigh heavily and say, "Well, what can I do?  Jax refuses to wear a coat when it's snowing out."

Be a fricking adult and tell your kid:  "Jax, you will wear your coat today because it is cold out.  When the temperature is warmer than 70 degrees, you will no longer have to wear a coat.  Today is 30 degrees, so it is a coat day.  Please put on your coat so we can go to school."  If that doesn't work you take Jax's Legos away every day he fights you on the coat.  We all know, Jax is very bright (so you keep telling us) so he'll catch on after the first day I'm sure.


People Who Work With Children, But Don't Like Them


What is the deal with people who work in professions designed to cater to children and then they can't stand children and/or they have no patience with children?!

We take our kids to a pediatric dentist.  He costs us far more than a "normal" dentist because he is a specialist, but I wanted to take my kids to a dentist who supposedly wouldn't scare the shit out of them and who I assume is trained to work with the under 12 crowd.

This guy has an office that looks like a carnival.  He has kids movies on the big screen, aquariums full of beautiful, bright fish, video games, stuffed animals, goody bags, balloons and, of course, ice cream (he's gotta make sure we still keep getting cavities - he knows where his bread is buttered).  His staff dresses in matching outfits that are different colors every day and they all have perky, glow in the dark smiles.  That's where the fun ends.

Douchey Dads

I was attending an auction at a chic country club and  I arrived early to help the organizers set up and I was surprised to find the bar full of young, well dressed (if you can call expensive plaid shorts well dressed), golf playing, thousands of dollars a year for dues paying men sitting around drinking and yukking it up.  I wanted to say, "Hey...where do you guys work that you can spend half of a Tuesday golfing at this expensive club?"  (I also wanted to hand all of them my real estate business card, because these guys look like the type who might need a good divorce attorney and Realtor in their Rolodex's at all times.)


I started setting up tables, but I just couldn't control my irritation at these guys.  Everything about them rubbed me the wrong way.  Their stupid plaid shorts, their expensive drinks and the yukking. God, the yukking.  I've never heard laughter that was so phony and so forced.  It sounded like a combination of sea lions and parrots barking at each other.

Nothing is NOT Acceptable


Last week I was trying to think of a Mother's Day present for my mom. I'm 42 years old now and a macaroni necklace just doesn't have the same impact it used to 36 years ago. I felt like every gift I was thinking of was a crappy gift, so I asked my readers on Facebook to tell me the worst Mother's Day gift they ever received just to make sure those weren't the ones I was considering. I got the usual responses of Dustbusters, brooms, step stools, tools, and irons. However, as I scrolled through the hundreds of answers, I noticed the same gift popping up over and over again.

I Hang Out With My Boys Gary, Carl, and Jimmy


Hi it's Adolpha here!

Today is take your kid to work day so me and Gomer are working for our mom. So far the life of a writer isn't so bad. I've gotten to update her Insta and take pictures of my stuffed animals and write about them. So go like those pictures!

49 Word List To Describe My Mom



Hi everybody this is Gomer today is take your child to work day and in order to stay home my mom said I had to write a 100 word blog post about anything, and since I can write about anything I am going to write a 49 word list describing my mom.

Parents Who Don't Teach Their Kids Manners


I don't know about you, but I try to teach my kids manners whenever the opportunity arises.  If my kids receive a present I say, "What do you say?"  If they leave someone's house from a play date I say, "What do you tell so and so's mom?"  If they get in someone's way when we're at the store I say, "Say 'excuse me.'" That sort of thing.  I know a lot of people do it and I see my friends' kids doing it, but for some reason there is a small population out there who doesn't and I seem to come into contact with them all the time.


Last week I had to run to Hobby Lobby for a quick trip.  I was in a big hurry and somehow I got stuck behind the woman who thought it was a great idea to let her 2 year old walk and browse the store.  Ugh!! When is this EVER a good idea?

Show Your Kids We Can Fix Everything Together

I'm a talker.

I don't mean I talk a lot. (Even though I'm sure everyone who has ever met me would argue on that one.) 

What I mean is there isn't a topic that's off-limits in our house. Our house is a safe space where I encourage my kids to ask me anything.

And my kids take it seriously. Sometimes the questions are so outrageous I have to clutch my pearls and grab the smelling salts. Sometimes the questions are so ridiculous I have to stop myself from laughing in their faces. And sometimes the questions are so heart-breaking all I want to do is bundle everyone up in bubble wrap and go back to bed.

Ladies, Stop Steaming Your Vaginas

Last week, I had to hop a plane to DC for a couple of days. I had a nagging feeling that I was forgetting something. And then I realized it was only because I was traveling alone! For once, I only had to worry about myself instead of keeping track of my kids and all their crap. Or so I thought...

It wasn't until I got to my hotel and fired up my computer and saw the breaking international news that Gwyneth Paltrow is steaming her vagina (I assume with a side of broccoli - that girl is a vegan multi-tasker) that I realized what I had forgotten. The little blinking light in the corner of the screen told me that my battery was low and the end was near. My computer would shut down in 1 minute unless I plugged it in. I reached into my empty bag and discovered that I'd left my cord at home.


NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.

How could the universe conspire against me like this? GWYNETH is STEAMING her VAGINA and I haven't got a computer that works!!

Things I Could do Before I had Children

I had a make over last night with some of my girl friends.  We got our hair styled and we got our make up done and then we went out for dinner.  Whoohoo!!


Sitting in the chair at the salon, the hair stylist noted that my hair style is "cute."  She said, "Do you always wear it so.....flippy?"  Why yes I do, I thought flippy was in.  Is it not??  She said, "It's OK, we can tone it down a bit with the straightening iron."  She proceeded to straighten the shit out of my hair and make it smoke (literally).  When she was done, she said, "There.  Now you don't look so much like a mom!"

I moved over to the make up chair and this woman was not as diplomatic.  She said, "I'm going to have to do something about your brows."  Oh yeah, I need to get them waxed.  "Yes, you do.  Soon.  I'll do what I can.  In the meantime, let's draw attention to your eyes so the brows don't stand out so much."  I told her to break out a new bottle of concealer, because I was gonna need it.  She chuckled, but didn't argue with me.

People Who Complain They're Busy, But They're Busy With Stupid Stuff


Does that title make sense?  I doubt it.  Let's see if I can explain.

OK, so you know those people who complain about how busy they are - but it's not with work or anything really "important"?  It's more like, "Oh gawd, I'm sooooo busy, because Eustace and Duncan and Dorset have Tae Kwon Do on Mondays, baseball practice on Tuesdays, violin and cello on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, soccer all day on Saturdays, baseball for the OTHER team they play for Wednesdays, and Kumon on Fridays."  My head wants to explode just reading that.


A few years ago, before I had any kids, I was showing a house to my client and on the wall of the kitchen the home owners had a schedule with different colors for each kid.  They had four kids and from what I could gather each child participated in 2-3 activities per week and didn't get home from their activities before 9 PM on most nights.  These were elementary and middle school aged kids.  When did they eat dinner?  When did they do their homework?  What time did they finally get to bed?  When did they have time to play with their Ponies and Legos or ride their bikes?

50 Shades of Suburbia

Heya! What are you doing today? I'm just working...like always. I have to work every day or else I'm not going to get paid, y'know? It can be kind of a drag after a while and I'm always like, "How am I ever going to retire? My kids will have to sell books at my funeral to pay for my coffin."

Money is something that keeps me up at night. Sure, I could spend less, but where's the fun in that? I'd rather just come up with new ways to make more money.

Today I stumbled upon my retirement plan. I'm going to buy this house and rent it out as an AirBnB. Yeah, that's right. Here, take a look at this listing and be sure to scroll through ALLLLL the pictures. Ahh shoot, I leave for a couple of hours and the MLS listing was changed. But have no fear, Philadelphia Magazine has the pics.

At first you'll be like: "Oh hey! Jen's right. This is a lovely home in suburban Pennsylvania with an open and inviting floor plan and award-winning schools. I love all the large, bright spaces to spread out and relax in."



"Wow! Look at that large unfinished space upstairs. I could easily finish it off and create a library since this house has everything except a library and I think every home needs a library."



"Ooh, look! In addition to all these things, the home also has a stunning finished basement complete with a work out room and ... um ..."


"Hang on. What am I looking at? Is that for Pilates? I think my friend, Karen, has this set up in her basement. It's from Italy. I hear, it's like, the hot, new workout."


 But...wait. Is IT for Pilates? Is that a stock? And a rack? Wait. What's hanging on those hooks on the wall? Is this Mr. Grey's man cave?"



"O. M. G. It's an S&M sex den!"



"I mean, it's tastefully done, though, right? I mean, the wood has a certain charm...and it's neatly organized...and well, I, just didn't know such a space could be so...inviting? Right?!"



My plan is genius, you guys. If you read the description carefully it says that ALL FURNISHINGS are included. I think that means ALLLLLL of it, right? At least I'd be writing that shit into the contract. Except the fur rugs. They can keep those, because, EWW.

It also says that this house rents out on AirBnB for $2,000 a night on the weekends for parties. Hell yeah, it does! I'm not good at math, but I'm pretty sure that adds up real quick when you get into the right AirBnB crowd. I could retire in, like, four years of Saturdays.

I shared this on my personal Facebook page and people were like:



There was a lot of worrying about the clean up and maybe what those walls and floors...and ceilings have seen, but here's the thing. I've stayed next door to people doing kinky shit in hotel rooms and you know those rooms aren't getting any kind of hose down. I figured at $2k a night, I can afford a haz mat team to clean the place and a lifetime supply of Clorox wipes.

The Hubs isn't on board, with my get rich quick scheme, but all I can say is:




Like this? You'll love my books. Get the books here!

Gender Reveal Parties




I have nothing against party planners.  I know it's their job to always come up with new ideas to sell to people, but when they start throwing Potty Parties and Period Parties you know they're grasping at straws.

The latest trend I've heard about is a Gender Reveal Party.  Wouldn't you love to be invited to one of those?  Well, I would not.  I'll just tell my friends right now:  Save your stamp.  I'm not coming.

PIWTPITT Sports Bra Review - The Results Are In

I wrote a post bemoaning the dearth of supportive sports bras for anyone with a D cup or larger.

I had just started my new workout regimen and I was frustrated with the constant battle to keep my boobies in check while I did a jumping jack. My workouts sounded a lot like this:

"One, two, ow - my eye! Three, four, son of a bitch! Five, six - now the other one is free too?! Seven, eight - break! I need a break. I've got to put these suckers back where they belong."

Don't get me wrong, I'm always happy to find an excuse for a break during my workouts, but tit was getting ridiculous. (Did you see my Freudian slip typo there? I decided to leave it, because it's just so perfect.)

I wrote my post and hundreds - nay, a tad over a thousand once it made the front page of HuffingtonPost - came out to voice their lament as well and to offer support and suggestions for me.

Hypochondriac Hubs


Today the Hubs is sick.  It started yesterday when he woke up and complained of full body aches.  I honestly didn't believe him.  We had an early day yesterday and I really thought he was trying to get out of helping with the morning routine.  He's just such a baby when he's sick it's hard to know when you can believe him.

Remember a few weeks ago when I wrote about Adolpha spending so much time in the nurse's office?  Well, she comes by her hypochondria honestly.  The Hubs can turn a splinter in his finger into a case of gangrene.  Instead of the boy who cried wolf, he is the man who cried sick.

Designer Vaginas are a Thing Now

I don't know about you ladies, but as I get older I'm finding that a lot of things are .... changing. My laugh lines aren't...