Monthly Archives: January 2012

One Hot Mama

This afternoon I decided  to brand my “look”. I’m calling it “One Hot Mama”. It’s sort of an unaware casual. Casual meaning my jeans are on their third day in a row. Unaware meaning I am unaware that my lovely beige nursing bra is hanging out of my shirt in the front, and that my disposable nursing pads are peeking out of the bra (sort of like maxi pads for my boobs). Unaware that there is spit up crusted on my shoulder, down my back, and in my hair. Unaware that my shoe is also covered in spit up and that my shirt is slightly hiked up in the back from our last nursing session, exposing a tiny bit of flesh that hasn’t entirely lost the baby weight.

Sleep deprivation has created those sought-after dark circles under my eyes that the hottest drugged-out party girls are sporting, but mine are from awakening every three hours at night. The hot chicks might get a only few hours of substance-induced slumber on the weekends but I am running on four or five hours of sleep EVERY DAY. Yeah, I totally rock this look and guess what? I feel great! So there. I’m one hot mama and I’m going to bed now.





Okay, this acronym really pisses me off. I mean, it royally pisses me off. I generally see it on Facebook, and generally posted by someone who is kvetching about some dramatically drastic occurrence in his or her life.

For those who don’t know what it means, the acronym stands for “Fuck My Life”. In an increasingly self-centered culture wherein discomfort is to be avoided at all costs (I feel a future rant coming on), it seems that “fml” is used to express even minor frustrations.  I can’t stand it.

Listen, someone somewhere worked really hard to give you life. Regardless of your childhood or your current circumstances you do have the power to make a change. “Fuck my life” is an overreaction to life’s happenstances. I have empathy for people’s pain, suffering, discomfort, sadness… you get the idea. I do not have a lot of sympathy for those who must publicly moan about their situations and so cavalierly dismiss their lives. Your life isn’t your problem, your attitude is. I can bitch with the best of them and I am really good at throwing pity parties for myself, but you will never, ever, EVER hear me say, “Fuck my life”.

I have a little post-it pad that I use rarely because I want to save those little pieces of paper for as long as possible. The saying on it goes like this, “Attitudes are contagious … is yours worth catching? The next time you’re tempted to post “fml” remember that a: you sound like a self-absorbed idiot, and b: it is incredibly  immature.

Rant over.