The deMented Mom

Despite what some of the more cynical blog reviewers would have you believe...I don't really think that 'bad parenting' is something that we, as a blogging group are proudly proclaiming as being a badge of honor amongst us. For some reason, when a MB chooses to share some of her more, let's say, humble moments of parenting with her fellow bloggers, she's allowing all of us to breathe that collective sigh of relief knowing that "I'm not the only one who has said/done that". Called a 'bitch' and 'ugly' by my own mom, nice eh??? Thanks :-)) OUCH! When I saw this Facebook status update posted by my own 13 year old daughter I was immediately transported back to my own adolescence and reminded of similar scenes that played out between my mother and I. I won't regale you with the details but needless to say, my mother and I did not enjoy a warm, close mother/daughter relationship while I was growing up and remain somewhat estranged

I've been doing some cross training to try and shave some valuable minutes off my time for the Royal Victoria Marathon in October. One of these activities is swimming. I've really resisted the idea of adding swimming to my training as quite honestly I haven't swum any great distance or speed since I was a teenager MANY more decades ago than I care to admit. I donned that matronly workout bathing suit; strapped on those goggles, the suction from which makes my eye balls feel like they are going to pop right out; safely ensconced my children with their swimming classes and hopped into that pool. Holy mother of Gosh! They aren't kidding when they say that swimming is one of the best all over work outs. I thought that I had great cardio capacity and that this would be a piece of cake. I managed to eke out 400m (not front crawl..be serious) before clutching onto the side of the pool for dear life to try and get some precious air into my lungs once again. I just have

Apropos of yesterday's rant. Being the needy woman that I am I asked my husband if I could get some "maintenance" done on my face. I figured that if he had to, he'd lie to spare my fragile feelings. DH: What would you have done? Me: Well, you know, this thing between my eyebrows called the "Bitch Wrinkle" DH: Now that you mention it...It does kind of look like a vagina on your forehead. Now I know what DH really stands for: Dick Head.

I've been fuming, muttering and bitching for a couple of days now. Nothing new really but I think I'm justified this time. Behold this attempt at humour by Sarah Hampson of The Globe and Mail : Welcome to Midlife, complete with Bingo Wings and Vampire Dinner Lips In a nutshell, Ms. Hampson goes on to describe the 'cute' names that have been given to various body parts on a middle aged woman: bitch wrinkle, bingo arms, vampire dinner lips and diaper butt to name a few. If you need me to actually identify which body parts go with which moniker, you're too young to be reading my blog and should take your wrinkle-free butt elsewhere. Call me vain and shallow, my loved ones frequently do, but I'm really having a tough time with this aging thing. Love it or hate it, eternal youth is the Holy Grail for a lot of women. I'd hate to put myself in that camp. I like to think of myself as far more centered and accepting of the changes that I'm noticing. But *f