Of course when there is a blizzard all my Siberian Husky wants to do is play in the snow. The human in me wants my pup to come inside so she doesn't freeze to death, but to Sierra this storm is a gift from God to her. She will stay out all night. Here is a short video of her frolicking in the snow and me trying to call her in. She won. I was in shorts and tall boots,my battery was dying and the wind was whipping. I could play out there with her too all night if i had her undercoat and guard hairs. A Northface doesn't do shit. That tree you see is where she likes to take refuge from the sun and the snow. Its like a cave for her and i was scared to go in there...maybe tomorrow. Thanks for stopping by!
When I decided to start a blog, my daughter Maddie gasped. Said that old people don't write blogs. I am NOT old. She said she would never read my blogs unless I wrote about how awesome she is.
So here we go...
My inquisitive child recently asked me what it was like find out I was pregnant with her. Do I lie and say it was the happiest day of my life? It was not, but it was a day that changed my life forever. I was completely shocked. I cried and cried and cried. I was young just two days shy of my 23rd birthday and not married. Bad girl. I was not ready. She asked me what I was thinking. My life was over. I told her I went over my choices in my head. She looked at me like, what do you mean you thought about your choices?? We all have choices. It is our right. It is my body. I told her that when I was asked what I wanted to do, I told her the only thing I could and said I was having you. She was shocked by the fact that we thought about it. She said, "Obviously you made the right choice to have an amazing child." This was true and amazing is an understatement.
I have never been one to sugar coat anything. You will never hear me say how wonderful pregnancy is or how much i enjoyed having a child growing inside of me. Being pregnant sucked but I will have a seperate blog about that.
Dear Madeline,
You came to us November 9th at 4:31 pm. I think. One of you was born at this time. Sucked out by a Dyson and you were blue, purple even with the cord wrapped around your neck not breathing. I yelled to make you scream. You were born a procrastinator. You still are...just like me.
Yep, You were beautiful. Just as I had predicted. Big violet-blue eyes that you got from your Daddy. A full head of light brown hair. Grandma thought you looked filipino. Delusional. You were long and not chubby as I had imagined. Then I saw them...Holy Mother of God. Your feet were HUGE and so were your hands. The nurses laughed at you. You held your own bottle at two days old. You were extraordinary, but you didn't like to sleep. What a pain in my ass.
You were easy to raise. I never spoke to you like you were a baby. I always told it like it was with you no matter what your age and I always will. I am not sure why I never babied you, but I hope it doesnt backfire on me. So you called me a bitch at age 3. You are so much like me. Your wit and sarcasm is spot on and I enjoy our daily banter even though sometimes I want to punch you in the uterus.
I love laughing with you and even more so, I love laughing at you. Can't help it, I am mean like that.
As my first born, I wanted to put you in every sport or activity I could. You didn't care for anything really until I put you on a horse for the first time and you were a natural. That's my little panker...
You were such a great little equestrian. A champion really. Our champion. Nobody could touch you in that ring when you brought your A game which was 99 percent of the time. The day we gave you and Sydney your pony Stella was one of the greatest moments of my life. You cried with excitement and happiness. Sydney of course screamed at the top of her lungs with jealousy wanting to know where her pony was. It was hilarious. I am sorry you lost her. She was your best friend and I know her death changed you.
I am so proud of your accomplishments. You had the ability to go into a ring and take it all. You're an artist and a good one. A gift from your father of course. You didn't get that shit from me.
I always had a camera in your face and you were always prepared with a smile. You were and still are very photogenic. I am not saying this because I am your mother and feel obligated to tell you how beautiful you are. You really are. You never look bad. Ok there was that one year when you were very sick. You could go to the barn with your hair up in a ratty bun and still look gorgeous. Lucky bitch. You have grown up to be a lovely young lady. Im so proud of who you have become. Except the lazy never cleaning your room, hate to do chores, huff and puffing part. You gotta work on that.
Lets talk about your feet. They are no joke. Gigantic. They are why we call you Madzilla. You would trample over everything with your giant pods. Your hands are alien like. Somebody will be shocked when they get a huge bitch slap from you.
In a little less than a year you will go off to college. School Sucks. I am so happy you are taking your core classes at home before you go off to become a large animal vet. I dont think I could ever handle you going away so soon even though I'll have had 18 years with you. You're my daughter and it will never be enough time.
Dont worry there will be more blogs about you and your awesomeness. I am holding out for the good stuff. This was just a special one. Happy Birthday to my spawn of satan. You are without a doubt Awesome, but even more so, you are the heart that beats outside of my body. I chose wisely...
Love,
Your old, immature & childish mother...
Enjoy some older pics of us. See you on the Flip Side ;)
I didn't look like my parents. I was the whitest of half breeds with dark curly cowlicked hair. My skin was milky, my big eyes green & almond shaped. My nose little & not spread like my moms or huge like my dads. My lips were tiny but my cheek bones were high & my face flat. My DNA was clearly fucking with me. From the neck up my body was confused on what country it was from. People said I would be so pretty once I grew into my features. Really?? I mean how bad could it get? My mom was the Filipino lunch lady that told people I wasn't hers and sent me to band camp. I used to say when I was born that I was only smacked in the face once with a shovel.
My eyes were slanty enough to be made fun of, but the unibrow that swept across my face was furry enough that I might have been something worse; a Panker. Having my mother as the lunch lady confirmed everyones suspicions. Yup, that kid is a chink, so every exchange student of Asian descent that entered school was going to be sat next to me so they didnt feel out of place. It didnt matter that I didnt speak Korean, Chinese or Japanese because I was supposed to magically understand what the full breeds were saying in their native tongues. Dudes, I was racially profiled in elementary school!
While everyone in the cafeteria had cool food in their Star Wars lunch boxes, in my very boring, uncool, plastic Tupperware lunch carrier were things like rice, corned beef and potatoes, but believe me when I say it was NOT the Irish kind. I was often asked what I was eating with a snicker, so my reply was always dog food. That kinda back fired because now I was the half breed, adopted daughter of the Filipino lunch lady who was sent to band camp and ate dog food. Got Alpo?
Stay tuned...tomorrow we are leaving on a jet plane to a land far far away. See you on the Flip side ;)
Having an Asian stay at home mother meant being raised Asian. I was spoken to in Tagalog. I learned to cook Filipino food at an early age and I ate what was in the "Mystery Pot" for fear of being forced to eat something worse like Balut or Pigs Blood. (yea im puking in my mouth a little too right now)
For as far back as my elephant memory can remember, there was always a Fama or a whole Famaly hiding, I mean taking refuge, I mean living in my home. I started to refer to it as the Fama Half Way House of Horrors. They were completely taking over and I was scared I would never see a baked potato ever again.
I often went down to the lake behind my house to catch dinner with my Uncle because thats what the natives do back home. He didnt like catching fish with a pole so one afternoon he went into my Grandpas workshop and came out with a spear gun he hand made. He liked to shoot from the "trees". Tarzan meets Magyver by way of Manila. My brother thought it was the coolest thing ever. I thought this man is one egg roll short of Lucky Chans combination platter.
Now remember, I am half white and chose freely on which country I wanted to be on any given day. Having all these Famas in the house with their babies and what not meant I was greatly outnumbered by the Bruce Lee look alikes so I pulled the white card often. As I got older my Tagalog was lacking and told them it was rude to speak in tongues in front of an American. Sometimes their language got so advanced I could only listen for my name but I learned the faster and louder they spoke meant someone (usually another Fama) was coming to town and they were bringing more Famas to live with us. It also meant my Dads white man does a Filipino accent wasn't going away anytime soon and he sucked at it.
My only refuge from this madness was going to school but then the unthinkable happened. My mother got a JOB and not just ANY job.
DUN DUN DUN...
My mom was now the freakin CAFETERIA LADY at my elementary school. Yea my mouth was agape too and not from her just being the lunch lady but from the smell of tator tots that wofted off her body daily.
...to be continued with "No Jeannie's Not My Dawtuhh, She Adopted"...Inside the Flip Side
Seriously does it?
This hot sketch of me was done by the talented Rae Berse. My ass really IS that BIG and I love it.
I figured my first blog post should be about me and why I decided to be a blogger. I keep hearing how funny I am so why not? I enjoy making people laugh with my obnoxious sarcastic unfiltered humor. This one about my life with topics like my friends, relationships, my vagina and how much I love it, to my children who clawed their way out of it, sex toys of course & why I’ve never seen a porn.There's a vast number of Long Island Comedians that deserve the shout outs and applause. I’ll be writing about their sets, their podcasts & whatever else I come across hopping from club to club with my girlfriends laughing our asses off from Long Island to NYC and maybe even beyond.
I grew up a half breed in a small white bred town. I bounced back and forth between Deliverance and the Philippines. I've got rice patty feet & a filthy trucker mouth with a knife fetish. I am proud of my dysfunctional heritage. Half Asian(Filipino mostly), the other half is Irish with some other shit. I'd like to take this moment to thank my Dad for the gray hair he gave me at such an early age. By the way I wish someone would have told me gray hair on your head means gray hair grows below and you can't “Wash that gray right out of your hair” unless you want to feel the burn.
I'm a mom to two beautiful yet hormone raging demon seeds. Spawn One & Spawn Two. I'd say I’m not your typical mom. I am fiercely honest with my kids about everything in life from why you NEVER eat from Grandmas mystery pot to sex & why you NEVER use your teeth. I did forget to tell Spawn One that you're supposed to shave with water and shaving cream and not JUST a razor. OUCH...Sorry honey, but the teeth thing is more important than razor burn if you ask me. ;)
Since I first thought of blogging everything & everyone in my life has been targeted and they know it. Throughout the day I will hear at least one person say, "You better not blog about that!" Once you open your mouth please know that you’re screwed. Kinda like Taylor Swift right after she blows her boyfriend gets dumped then sings about how she never ever ever ever wants it back in her mouth ever again...like, ever.
I have so much to say & I hope you stick around and come back for more. Your comments & suggestions are always welcome even if they’re bad. That’s a complete fucking lie. I don’t want to hear your shit. Just praise me. Kidding....sorta