50 Shades: Violation on a WHOLE other level...

Just a warning....this may be a tad inappropriate....just a tad....maybe.


I was never much into reading as a kid. Not until I got married, quit my job, and had a kid did I truly appreciate that there was a way to sit down and be taken into a whole other world. Calgon, take me away! I had a period of time that I read ALL of Tess Gerritsen's books. I couldn't put them down! Then I got busy or something....not quite sure why I didn't read for a while.  But then while at a birthday party, I heard about this book. A booked that was being called, "Mommy Porn" by it's readers and the media. Huh? No way....seriously people, you need to broaden you horizons when it comes to the bedroom apparently because I'm pretty sure that nothing sold at Barnes & Noble could be so intense. Now, for those of you who have read a few of my blogs, you know that I will admit when I am wrong.  Here I go again....I was wrong.

This all started when I went to a friend's surprise party... as the men were playing a game of washers in the yard, the hens were perched on the deck talking about recent events...being pregnant, getting pooped on, planning birthday's...you know, the normal crap mommies talk about. Then we got on the subject of books and I have heard a few things about this book, "50 Shades of Grey" but didn't research it or anything. Just heard it was sexual...whatever. Well, one of the ladies let us know that this book has added fuel to her fire.  She said that she read about things that she didn't have a clue existed...and then a couple of the other hens opened up and said that they had heard about it...that it had reignited their sexual relationships with their husbands, or gave some women the courage to "try new things".  So this peaked my interest.  Could there be a book out there that really got a woman's blood REALLY pumping? I doubt it...IT'S A BOOK! And I was pretty sure there were no illustrations involved so could this author paint a good enough picture to get someone's lady parts beeping? Doubtful....especially since I had heard that this was poorly written . So I figured I had nothing to lose...my husband was going out of town for 3 days so I was pretty sure that IF this book did what most said it did, I would be safe in the comfort of a cold shower and not at the mercy of a neglected husband...so I went with a girlfriend to Barnes & Noble after I dropped my daughter off at school...if you thought that I was going to walk into a bookstore asking where the "Mommy Porn" was by myself, you are sadly mistaken... we looked, and looked, and looked for that friggin' book.  Is it in Women's Studies? No.... What about Instructional?  No....  School Summer Reading? God, I hope not....  We finally find where it is supposed to be but it appears that they are out of them. So I go up to the front to pay for my Dr. Seuss book...okay, now this is just wrong..Dr. Seuss and Mommy Porn...I ask the cashier if they are out of that book and she says, "Oh no...we keep them behind the counter..." WHAT?!?!?!  Oh Lord....maybe I should just tell her to forget about it but I did bring my friend here for support. Too late to turn back now...

So that evening I start reading this book....no sex yet.  It was little slow to start but I'm glad, because if that author would of just gotten to the meat and potatoes right away, I would of burned the damn thing. She knew what she was doing when she wrote this book. She got me intrigued by the main characters and the mystery the Mr. Grey. Then it started getting hot, and then is simmered, then it started boiling....OH SHIT! IT'S BOILING OVER! What in the......okay, enough for one night...I'm going to bed....okay, one more chapter....After approximately 36 hours of having this book in my possession,  I finished it. And let me tell you....if Anastasia wasn't sore from what she personally endured, I was sore for her....just reading this made me tired. Once I closed the book, I have to tell you something. I have NEVER felt so violated in my ENTIRE life. It was like, if I knew of this Mr. Grey and ran into him at Panera, I'm pretty sure I would run out the door screaming let alone look this delicious freak in the eyes! As soon as my hubs got home from his fishing trip, I told him that I read this book and a little bit about it. He was shocked. All the sudden I felt like I was a teenager and caught in something that I shouldn't of done and said, "The only reason I did it was because everyone else was doing it!" That's right...I succumbed to peer pressure....I read a book.

Not only did I admit to my husband that I read this crazy "book", I told my friends....I warned them...I explained that I really want to read the next book in the series but I'm afraid that the next one will have the same outrageous amount of sexual content, and I can't handle it.  I feel dirty already and I'm pretty sure I will have to sit on ice for a week before even attempting to read the second one. I wonder how many crazy women Barnes & Noble have coming in at opening with two cigarettes hanging out of their mouth, and a fresh scotch on the rocks.  So, in conclusion I believe that I will write the author and tell her that she should include a supply list with the purchase of this book and it should include, but not limited to:

Ambien (because obviously when it's time for bed, you can't put the damn book down!)

Cigarettes
Ice
Batteries
Scotch (or any hard liquor of your choice)
A well rested Male (preferably Mr. Grey)

You've been warned...


Laters, Babe

From Torture to Triumph

If you think this is ONLY about a personal trial that I endured, you're sadly mistaken. I am going to share with you, a bit of my life that not many know about and how happy that I made it through, and more importantly, my sister.

Laurel and I laugh about the things I would do to her as a kid, but I'm actually pretty happy that she didn't grow up to be an addict of some sort because of her traumatic childhood.  Okay, maybe it wasn't that bad but I feel pretty bad for the things that I would do to her. I would pin her down, lean over her face and let a slow and steady stream of saliva drip out of my mouth and right before it hit her face, I would slurp it back in my mouth. That was the plan at least. But once in a while, the stream o' saliva would be out of my control and actually land on her face. Geez, just seeing this in words makes me realize how utterly disgusting that was... Then there was the tickling....my sister is the MOST ticklish person I have ever known. If you hold your hand anywhere near her and move you fingers as if you are tickling her, she would start laughing or better yet, let out a squeal.  I would tickle her until she couldn't breathe.  Now before you think I was trying to kill her, please understand that this child would cry so hard when getting her diaper changed, she would pass out.  Or when she got hurt, she would first let out what we call, "The Siren". Imagine a siren on an emergency vehicle and how the sound starts out lower in sound and then intensifies. Except, when Laurel's "siren" intensified, she would turn blue and my mom would be yelling at her, "LAUREL! BREATHE! BREATHE LAUREL!"  Any time we would rough-house and she would get hurt, I would say, "Don't tell Mom! Don't tell Mom! Shhhhhh! Don't cry! Don't cry!" and I would just pray that the siren wouldn't go off! So obviously physical torturing like spitting on my sister, tickling her in misery, or beating her up, only forced her to engage what I would like to call, "Cerebral torture".  I hate Oomp-Loompa's with a passion.  The small stature, the orange skin, the deep voices....it's kind of like an elephant being afraid of a mouse. You would think that this big "Corn-fed Barbie" couldn't possibly be scared of a fictional candy making little person, but I am. So out of nowhere, I would be in my room and I would hear the candy making chant of, "Oomp Loompa doo-pa-dy do...." Oh, and let's not forget about Furbies. Do any of you remember those little freaks? They were like little Gremlins with fur and buggy eyes. I HATED those things...I would walk into Laurel's room (when no one was in there) and I would hear in a high pitched voice, "Mama". Ugh! That send chills down my spine just hearing that voice in my head.  Well, she would go and hide those little spawns of the devil in my room and just wait for me to scream and beg for her to come and get those damn things out of my room....again, the elephant afraid of a mouse.

So besides the obvious torture, there was the torture that we both endured...the unintentional torture.  For several years, in middle school and high school, I suffered from severe depression and anxiety. That may be surprising to some of the people that I met later in my life, but part of the reason that I am who I am today is because of what I went through. Understand that because of this condition and the high doses of medication I was on to help with my anxiety, I was in a whole other world. Those years of my life are a complete blur. A lot I remember but it's like recalling a memory of someone else...out of body almost. I would fight with my mom every morning before school, normally resulting in me having an anxiety attack and my mother in tears. Laurel was forced to tag along for several doctors appointments since my Dad worked out of town so Mom was doing it by herself.  She saw things a kid shouldn't see....the breakdowns, the anxiety attacks, the verbal fights and yelling....it brings tears to my eyes when I think of things Laurel witnessed. She didn't deserve that. My parents didn't deserve that. There were times that I would ask my mom why I had to deal with this. But what I now think about is, why did my young sister have to go through that.  She didn't have a "big sister". She had a sick sister.  Understand that there are 6 years between us in age, so when we were younger, we really didn't have a lot in common anyway. But I didn't know about what was going on in her school, I wasn't there when/if she was upset about anything. Those years of my life are a complete blur. Yes, I missed the years that should of been the most memorable like going with my friends to high school football games and dances. But what pains me the most is missing those years of my sister.

Since I've been better, I have tried to be there for Laurel and include her in my happy moments when I could/can. I watched her show her goats in high school, went along to shop for her prom dress, cried as I watched her walk across the stage for her high school graduation, had the honor of her being the maid of honor in our wedding, had her there when my daughter was born and be her Godmother, and just calling to meet up for lunch, have drinks, or take a trip to the coast.  But now, I got to see her walk the stage as she graduated from college. Something that I never had the desire to do. I just wanted to get married and be a Mom...that's my passion. Her's is to be an educated and successful woman. I am so incredibly proud of her! She has worked pretty much full time and gone to school full time. She is going to be doing something that she loves and has a passion for and more than anything, THAT is what makes me most happy. She has accomplished so much.  The fact that I look up to HER makes me both sad and happy.  My sadness comes from the years of the unintentional torture she endured during my tough years. She didn't have a sibling to look up to....I don't blame her if she hated me during those horrible years.  I want her to know that wasn't me....I didn't want to go through all that....I didn't want her to go through all that, but she did.  There are no words to say how thrilled I am to see her grow up into such a successful, intelligent, loving, strong, and dedicated woman.  I believe that some of my family worried about what my future would hold, and if I would ever pull out of what I was going through. I know my grandmother always makes it a point to tell me how lucky I am to land such a wonderful husband and that she never thought that I would get married because of  "everything" I went through....yeah, thanks Nanny... But did they worry if Laurel would make it through too?  I did.  I pray that one day Peyton will be just like her.  In my eyes, she's perfect... she's smart, she's determined, she's focused, she strong in her faith, strong in her beliefs...she's loving, she's smart, she's beautiful.... I love her and I am thrilled beyond words of what she has become!
So on a lighter note,  I would also like to say, "You're Welcome!"  Because without my tickling, saliva, and rough-housing, you Miss Laurel Marie, wouldn't be the bad-ass you are today! I love you seester!

Tower 'o Crowns

Anyone who has seen the TV show “Toddlers & Tiaras” knows what level of dysfunction it takes to participate in a pageant of that sort.  They wear wigs so it doesn’t look like their hair, “flippers” so it doesn’t look like their teeth, makeup so it doesn’t look like their face…so in all reality, they are judged on what they AREN’T.  I was never the pageant type. My aunt tried talking my mom into putting me in the Little Miss Helotes pageant when I was a little girl and I just wasn’t into it. But even if I did participate, it didn’t involve the antics…  I never had an interest in clothes, shoes, makeup, or hair…I was a tomboy.  All I wanted to do was play sports, raise animals in 4-H, and get dirty.  But, I am well aware of the work that it takes to be in a pageant such as Miss Helotes.  The girls are themselves, they are interviewed…it’s not just who is the prettiest. And if you are on the court, you make appearances, you participate in parades, you are involved in the community. (There is one girl that I have known since she was little and she was on the Miss Helotes Court. Every time I have seen her, she has a smile that lights up the room, is so sweet & respectful…the only way Peyton would be allowed to run for Miss Helotes, is if she acted as graceful and sweet as Dani.)  So, it takes a lot of time out of your personal life. It is definitely a commitment! I’m sure that there are politics involved but politics are involved in EVERYTHING…sports, FFA, 4-H, pageants…don’t deny it!

One of my daughter’s teachers at school had asked me if I was going to put Peyton in the “Little Miss Cornsilk Pageant” during Cornyval. For those of you who don’t know what Cornyval is, it is Helotes’ annual festival that includes a carnival, rodeo, parade, and booths that local organizations have in attempts to raise money.  I told Ms. S that I didn’t know about it but I am totally NOT a pageant mom.  As days went on, I kept thinking about it.  My kid is cute, she has a great personality, and she knows what makes you pretty….a sweet heart.  A couple of weeks went by and I ran into Ms. Judy…she runs the Miss Helotes Pageant. I asked her what was up with this Cornsilk pageant  and she gave me a flyer and told me that I should put Peyton in it because every little girl get a sash, crown, and a trophy. I thought that Peyton would like that….especially if she got a trophy! The first thing she asked me when I signed her up for a second season of soccer was, “When do I get my gold medal?!?”  So, a trophy was right down her alley.  The flyer also stated that they were to wear a cute summer outfit… Something that you could pull out of your closet.  But how that translated in my mind was, “I need to go shopping!” This isn’t sounding too bad after all!  I went and bought her a sweet little white sundress at Old Navy and some new darling little turquoise sandals at Nordstrom Rack…the entire get up costs me about $30.  So on Sunday, we showed up to register Peyton. I realized that this wasn’t put on by Miss Helotes like I thought it would be. It was put on by a pageant cult…I mean, a pageant circuit.  I look on the stage and there are crowns of different sizes, sashes of different colors, and trophies of different sizes. This was my first clue….

So after I sign Peyton up, I am watching as Mom’s start hauling their daughters, no….make that show ponies….they are hauling their show ponies in.  Funny thing is, all the local girls were dressed in cute summer outfits with the normal southern “satellite bow” adorned to their pretty little heads…mine included! All looking like sweet little southern ladies, but with a little sass….after all, that’s how we roll! Then there were the out of towners…the non-locals. As they strolled in with their show ponies in tow, I was thinking “Y’all aren’t from these parts, are ya pilgrim…” I’m not kidding when I say that there was a girl that was probably 10 years old wearing 4 inch heels….oh yes…and she could strut in those bad boys better than I ever could! When I heard other mom’s talking trash about these girls, first I moved. I didn’t need to hear them disrespecting a child and neither did Peyton…was I in awe of how these girls looked? Duh….but it is not their fault….I blame their mother.  I couldn’t help but laugh ‘til I almost peed my pants when a mother of one of the non-locals asked where they could change and they told her, “You can change her in the handicapped port-o-potty…” YES!!!!! Oh my goodness! This is just too damn good!!!!!

So one of the women running this show says that the girls can go on the stage and practice.  Practice what? Oh Lord….here’s my second clue.  So as if they just opened the gates to Disney World, the non-locals make their way to the stage in a colorful, sparkled, fluffy herd.  I walk up to Miss Judy and ask her what they mean by “practice”…were we supposed to have a routine prepared?  If so, I’m going to play some Skunkweed so they can all see Peyton’s mad break dancing skills! Ms. Judy tells me that the stage is marked off and they show them where to stand and that sort of thing…and that is also gives them something to do while they are waiting. So I go tell Peyton to go up there and I can’t help but laugh…she had mud all over her! Here she is with these perfectly coifed show ponies and my kid is sweaty and muddy.  That’s my girl!  But no worries, I knew that this would probably happen so I brought her sun dress along with us to change her into before the pageant.  Once they announced that the show was about to begin, I brought Peyton over to the bleachers and stripped her down and changed her. No big deal….she’s 3….if the woman with the see-through linen shorts gave me one more dirty look as I changed her, I was going to yell, “Nice thong!” Get over it! It was now time to join the rest of the show ponies…as we were all waiting for our child’s number to be called, a little girl that was looking at Peyton’s shoes and went to grab the flower that was on her sandal.  Her mom picked her up and said, “At the last pageant we were at, she messed up a little girl’s shoe…” Uh, excuse me…did you say “last pageant”….oh Lord have mercy! She then tells me that they are from Corpus Christi….HUH? People are driving HOURS for this? And there isn’t even any money involved…and gas is almost $4 a gallon….I continued to be amazed.  So Peyton walks up there and I watch her from the side of the stage…Ms. Judy was sweet enough to tell her to smile and to wave…poor thing was just standing up there wondering what the hell was going on. But it was hilarious!

Now, I forgot to mention that when we registered, we had to fill out paperwork that had a “fill in the blank style” format so the MC could talk about them.  This is what Peyton’s ended up being…. “This is Peyton. She is 3 years old and her hometown is San Antonio.  She is wearing a cool sundress perfect for the Texas heat. She has blonde hair and blue eyes.  Her favorite thing to do at home is jumping on her trampoline.  She is in preschool and her favorite part of school is chapel.  Her favorite fruit is apples and her favorite food is chicken nuggets. Her favorite thing to watch on TV is Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. When she grows up she wants to be a firefighter like her Daddy.”  Okay…so simple enough right?  All of her answers were what SHE gave me…here is an example of the type of things I heard as they announced the non-locals. “This is Sarah.  She is 4 years old and her hometown is Lake Macadamia. She is wearing a coral, yellow, and pink ensemble that compliments her tropical skin tone, along with gold sandals, beautiful diamond earrings, and stylish designer sunglasses. She has shiny chestnut brown hair with flecks of natural highlights and Caribbean blue eyes. Her favorite thing to do at home is help her mommy clean house and take her elderly neighbors brownies. She is in preschool and her favorite subject is lunch…yum yum! Her favorite fruit is strawberries and her favorite food is cupcakes that are as sweet as her!   Her favorite shows to watch on TV are Dance Moms and Toddlers & Tiaras. When she grows up she wants to be a philanthropist!”  Uh, really?  I’m very doubtful that your 4 year old knows what a philanthropist is seeing that her favorite subject in school is lunch…

So the “crowning ceremony” finally happens…thank God because I am sweating like whore in church and I fear the possible mudslide that might occur if the older contestants’ makeup starts to melt off their face. So first they do the community award, followed by the photogenic award, the portfolio award, the beauty awards, the princess award, and lastly, the PRINCESS SUPREME AWARD….I knew it! This is Toddlers & Tiaras! Where are the cameras?!?  Supreme? I have only heard that terminology a few times, and all have been while watching Toddlers & Tiaras! I was talking to some old friends while this is all going on… I hear Peyton yelling at the MC, “I’m getting sweaty over here! Hey! Excuse me! I’m sweaty!”  I love this girl! I continue to watch, and when the crowning for her division is over,  Peyton has 2 crowns, 2 sashes, a trophy, a medal, and a paper that says, “Best Hair”….OMG! She is going to fall over! Some of these girls have MORE than 2 crowns….are they going to give a “Tower ‘o Crowns” award? What does all this mean?  I finally understand that the “supreme” for this category comes back at the end to choose the Grand Supreme…I only understood this when one of my friends put it in livestock terms. It’s like the Champion Run…for those that aren’t livestock show people, that’s when the champions from each class from that particular animal (i.e. pigs, goats, steer, lambs…and so on)come back at the end to choose the Grand Champion for that animal… Well, Peyton was not “champion” of her “class” so she didn’t have to come back for the “champion run” but I was so happy to see that a darling little local girl was chosen as the “champion” of their “class”. There is hope for us locals yet!  Since we weren’t obligated to stay you know what we did?  She and I went and rode the Ferris Wheel (as I had promised her) to end our Cornyval season. And as we enjoyed the warm breeze, she looked up at me and said, “Today was a good day, Mom!”  I asked her if she had fun and she said that she did.  Then I asked her the question that I always ask….”Peyton, what makes you a pretty girl?”  And she replied, “My sweet heart.”  That’s all she needs to know. No little girl should be taught to believe that a crown makes her more beautiful or makes her more confident. A parent who teaches them to be a respectful, giving, kind, supportive, and genuine person is teaching them what beauty REALLY is…But, I can confidently say that I will never put my kid in one of these things ever again....when she gets to the age that she can decide if she is ready to make the commitment it takes to be on a pageant court, we'll cross that road when we get there. I just want my girl growing up seeing the beauty in people for what it REALLY is! But I do have to say that I was pretty damn happy that she got "Best Hair" award!  Those curly locks get them every time!