Wieners In Your Face

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Posted by peskypippi | Posted in Humor, Mothering, Parenting | Posted on 29-08-2016

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Shit!

That was the first word uttered in Sausage Party. And that was my first reaction bringing my eleven-year-old and thirteen-year-old to this raunchy, totally-not-VeggieTales matinee.

When I watched the trailer, I thought what could be funnier than talking wieners?

We live in a family with three males, four if you count our dog–and two females. We women are outnumbered. Silly talk. Crudeness. Butt jokes. Wiener humor. We value openness and humor. It’s part of our family. My daughter and I are not phased. In fact, we join in with the comments. That what she said… This drawing is of a friendly penis, drawn years ago. Its artist shall remain unnamed. I keep it thumbtacked to my bulletin board for a giggle.

I was expecting Sausage Party to be full of wiener-dick-balls-buns jokes. It didn’t disappoint. However, we definitely were not the target audience. Ooops. Bad judgement on my part. Swing and a miss!

The movie had some good messages: how everyone has a purpose in life (including bagels and juice boxes). And everyone deserves to be loved. Except. Imagine animated horny hot dogs getting it on with sexy hot dog buns. Food porn. The final scene was an all-out food orgy on aisle 3.

I goofed taking my kids to this movie. All in a day of parenting, I guess, where there are hits and misses. Earlier that day, I took them to lunch at the Thai restaurant (hit), we shopped for school supplies (miss), and my youngest had his first guitar lesson (hit). Then, weenies in your face (miss).

I talk openly with my kids about anatomy. Anatomy is a part of life. I also admit when I’m wrong and I try to make things right. Mistakes are also part of life.

When we left the movie theater, I apologized to my kids that I made a mistake taking them to an inappropriate movie. I relish the fact that they forgave me.

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A Horse Penis and a Vegetable Garden

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Posted by peskypippi | Posted in Family, Humor, Memories, Mothering, Mothers and Sons, Projects, Questions, Summer, Teenager, Teenagers | Posted on 20-07-2015

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I get asked all kinds of questions around here.

It sure keeps things fun and surprising.

One of my sons asked me, “Would you rather get slapped in the face with a horse penis or jump in a swimming pool full of pee?”

Hmmmm…

Good question! But it didn’t really surprise me.

Then the other day, my other son asked me, “Do you want to plant a vegetable garden with me?”

How sweet is that?!

Now, this question totally surprised me. I mean, he’s a teenager and I’m sorta not cool.

How could I pass up this opportunity to spend quality time together? Planting a garden, no less. Nurturing and watching seeds grow–the perfect metaphor for life.

The answer is: I could not.

We immediately Googled what to plant in July. Lettuce, spinach, carrots, and radishes appeared to be fine crops for planting this late in the season. We were off to buy seeds. No time to spare!

Together, we tilled the soil, planted the seeds (some were the size of a pencil tip), tucked them in, and watered. We take turns watering and are looking forward to seeing the baby shoots peek out. We talk daily about “our” garden. Stay tuned for our bountiful harvest…in late November!

Oh and as for the other question? Slapped in the face by a horse penis.

I'm getting so wise in my old age. 😉

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Flabby Bellies, Butts, and Seagulls

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Posted by peskypippi | Posted in Babies, Birth, Childrearing, Children, Connections, Conversations, Mother, Mothering, Mothers and Sons | Posted on 06-09-2013

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Didn’t we already talk about sex and babies and where they come from? And how they don’t come out of women’s butts? Oh yeah, I forgot. Sex is a daily conversation. Check that conversation from awhile back here.

The other day, it was a similar conversation with my (now) eight-year-old and me while driving en route to frozen yogurt:

Him: “When I grow up, I don’t want a flabby belly.”

Me: “I don’t want a flabby belly either. My belly was stretched a lot when I was pregnant. But it was worth it!” (See how I sandwiched it a wee bit of guilt but then ended on a positive?)

Him: “How do babies even fit out of butts?”

Me: “They don’t come out of butts. They come out of women’s vaginas.”

Him: “That is so weird.”

Me: “Yeah.”

Him: “Wouldn’t it be cool if those seagulls [storks] brought babies down from heaven instead?”

Me: (Pondering the storks in Dumbo, and then poking my mushy belly.) “Yeah, that would be cool.”


storks

When it Comes To Star Wars, I am Retarded

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Posted by peskypippi | Posted in Kids, Memories, Mother, Movies, Parenting, Pop Culture | Posted on 02-07-2012

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When it comes to Star Wars trivia, I am not the the brightest star in the galaxy. In fact, I am sort of retarded. If there were CliffsNotes, I would get them. Just to keep up with my seven-year-old son.

I first saw Star Wars at the movie theater when I was eight years old. When I tell my son that I know about the first Star Wars, my young son will correct me and say, “No, MOM, it’s not the FIRST Star Wars, it’s episode IV: A New Hope.”

WTH?

When you start messing with chronology and prequels, you lose me. You had me at Clone Troopers, Boba Fett, Jango Fett, General Grievous, Count Dooku. And Anakin. Who IS this kid?

If I had to write an essay on the Star Wars storyline and how these characters interact, I would pee my Jedi briefs. I just don’t get it. And I’m a pretty smart cookie.

I mean, I know Chewbacca C-3PO, R2-D2, Han Solo, Luke Skywalker, Darth Vader, Jabba the Hut, Princess Leia, Storm Troopers, Yoda. You could quiz me. I even know the Millenium Falcon and the Death Star.

Dude! When I was a kid, C-3PO and R2-D2 did a Public Service Announcement about immunize-your-children-against-Whooping-Cough. Whooping Cough?! Yeah that. Now I sound as if I’m as old as Yoda.

Then there’s the Wookies, Ewoks, even Jar Jar Binks (doesn’t he sound like Dobby in Harry Potter?) I know them!

I am the mother to three children who happen to love this sextiology. My youngest son will talk for hours straight about Boba and Jango. I nod and smile as if I totally get it. (I don’t have a clue.)

But I’ll buy the Lego Star Wars game on Xbox 360, light sabers, the Clone Trooper Halloween costume, the Lego sets, the Yoda jammies, toothbrushes. Regardless of my Star Wars retardation, I DO have a clue about consumerism and merchandising. I get that.

Set “a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away