I’m a fucking woman

This morning I got heated up and something in me just snapped a switch was flipped and I am not looking back, I was at my morning work out at a cross walk on a busy street. Two guys in a work truck were cat calling my friend and I pretty normal right? We have all been cat called probably 100 times in our life and when none of us reacted or responded it got nasty. They started called us “desperate house wife bitches” and “most of you aren’t that good looking” and get a job and kept yelling till the light changed. Now there are women around of sizes and emotional levels, postpartum, self image depression, and everything else. How dare anyone speak to women that way and not just women, but fellow humans. I felt my blood boil. I couldn’t even focus on the rest of my workout. While we were stretching they came around again and screamed at us, a public park and a children’s elementary school. Yes, you read that right. They drove by and harassed us a second time. All I knew is that I wanted to do something. After some detective work was done, I got the name of the company and the license plate. I called the company and spoke to the assistant manager and told her the whole story. I had to repeat it twice to her because she was so shocked and couldn’t process it. How is this 2018 and men think it’s ok to talk to women like this? Were they surprised my feeble mind was able to figure out the google machine and call their boss?

But after I shared my story with her I asked her “do you have kids” and which she replied “no but I hope too. ” And I asked her as a fellow women and future mom how would she feel if this was her or her daughter? She profusely apologized and asked what she could do to remedy the situation. I told her I didn’t know but that I wanted her and the owner to speak and tell ME how they could fix it. She called me back in 20 minutes and said if they don’t come to you are on Monday and apologize they will no longer have jobs. After some discussion an ultimatum is probably not the best way to go with hot heads but something will be done. The company is having a meeting on how to remedy this on Monday.

And I just feel something inside me snapping. No more calling me honey and sweetie in a derogatory tone, no more cat calls, and no more degrading insults to me and my fellow moms and women. Look out world- I’m out for blood.

So all day I was on this high- I’m doing something to make the world a better place an equal place! But then it hit me, these are two men. Will they learn anything? Do they have daughters? And part of me started feeling really sad and overwhelmed that I can’t save the world and the woman race from injustices. However I will hold my ground, I will not let this shit slide any longer. I refuse to raise my daughter in a world where woman are treated lesser then equal. Who’s with me?

You can’t sit with us

Oh my god…. I struggled with some serious addiction lately. I literally binge watched gossip girl every second when Nola was napping and haven’t written anything! But my topic is mean girls…. we all know them. We have known them since around 5th grade. They are the girls that determine what’s cool… maybe you are, but most likely you are not. They are the ones that laugh at you and roll their eyes, they love making you feel awkward and stupid. Some how they determine your social outcome and status. I still remember the mean girls from middle school and high school. I shudder when I think of them.

But now, I’m an adult, I’m not in school. But yet, there’s still a club I’ve never managed to join. On Wednesday’s we wear pink- the mean girls Mom club. Get in loser….

Moving to San Diego, not know anyone and meeting all kinds of moms. I am starting to see the mean girl Mom. The mom who always is comparing…. oh Nola is five months and can’t ________ (fill in blank). Oh…. my child could do it at three months. That compare your kid to mine bull shit. Or the self righteous Mom- if you don’t do it my way you are wrong. Or the cliquey Mom- I have my group don’t talk to me Mom. Or the I have all the stuff Mean Girl- the braggy pants Mom. These are all the mean girl moms.

To be a women in this world is pretty crazy- I hate the fact we aren’t building each other up. Instead we are comparing and isolating one another. I encourage each and every one of you to think about how you treat other moms. Being a mom and a women is freakin HARD. Judgment if you stay at home, work, nurse for too long, can’t nurse, are over weight, are too skinny, and the list goes on! Are you a mean girl mom?

I look at my sister-in-law she has two kids and they are always both dressed in amazing clothes and she always looks flawless and is in incredible shape. Me, I just started wearing pants… so there’s that. Instead of being jealous, I am so happy and inspire to be more like that. I am friends with all kinds of moms, and give support and love. I’m taking it all the way back to high school, scoot over in the cafeteria and invite “that girl” to sit at your table for lunch. You never know fetch might start to happen.

Who…are…you…?

I’ve been thinking a lot about who I am lately. What I was and now who am I?

Back before pregnancy, before baby, you were someone- your had your own identity. Maybe you were the career woman with your power suit and your blunt bob haircut. Or maybe you were a granola/crunchy gal wearing all natural fiber hemp clothing, and if it’s not organic you didn’t even want to see it. You could have been the party girl, who is down for ANYTHING! Shots at two pm on a Tuesday? Sounds great!

Me? I won’t even try to hide it- I was the high maintenance girl. I loved fancy restaurants, fashion, nice vacations, and looking good if I left the house. I would go out every weekend, and had a super full luxury life. I was very extra as the youths say.

Fast forward, I have my baby and my identity is tied into what my baby needs and I’m like wtf happened?

Where is that girl that always had good hair? Obviously I’m just talking about all of the surface stuff here, but let’s dig a little deeper. Before your tiny human came along, your priority and individual happiness was determined by your choices for yourself. Basically, it was all about you.

Now with a baby, When you get home from the hospital you literally are a dairy cow – that’s your identity.  Nothing is about you. I was in such a fog for about a month. I had no ankles, my legs were swollen, and I was so bloated that I lived in old lady night gowns. My job was to sleep and take care of my baby. But my skin had no color, I had no appetite, and I was basically a shell. Over time, I adjusted and started putting on pants and getting my shit together. But in the beginning I was scared, I didn’t recognize myself.

Now, Nola is five months and I have started doing a few things just for me again so I’m not lost in the baby land abyss. It’s not the same self. I want to still be a Lindsey…. but I also want to be a mom. It’s a constant balancing act.

I talk to a lot of moms who are still stuck in baby land, where the entire universe surrounds your baby. I encourage you to start doing SOMETHING for yourself again. Try to remember who you were before kids and what was important to you. Become a hybrid version of yourself. To me that’s the definition of super mom!

So, just because you have a baby doesn’t mean you have to wear turtlenecks, drive a mini van, and get the hair cut with bangs all the way around your head. Unless you want to of course!

You still can be you…. and a mom.

Cheers till next week!

Like a Virgin…

Hi… WELCOME! I’m new here too. I’m not a writer. My writing will not be perfect, or my grammar, or spelling err… like a LOT will be wrong. But I’m real. I’m a real woman and mother. I will write and speak like one. This ain’t yo mommas blog. I will swear, I will drink but, one thing, I will be real with you on everything. I want to be that friend every woman needs, maybe doesn’t want but needs. So let’s do this shit and get started shall we?

I just moved with my husband, four month old daughter and two dogs to San Diego from San Francisco. I had my village (I hate that stupid saying, so fucking annoying, but it’s true). I had my places: my coffee shop where I would order my lavender lattes and run into Rebecca my hippie friend who owns a yoga studio who always has something positive to say. I had my nail lady who knew EXACTLY how to do my nails I didn’t even need to say a word or make an appointment. I even had my friend at Trader Joe’s and we’d have a fun little banter. I had my mom friends and my girl friends and our couple friends. I had all my things and stuff. Again, that stupid village saying…. Well I had it.

I also had a thriving salon business. I am a stylist and make up artist; if you’re ever in Poway, California look me up! Or follow my hair pics on Instagram @PrettyPineappleDesigns. I loved watching my business grow. It made me feel like I was somebody with something to offer the world. I had a waitlist and an assistant. I felt like I watched something I grew into something awesome.  I got to a point where I treated my self to a new Louis Vuitton bag after having such a good year. I felt like a bad ass girl boss!

I’m not going to write out my whole life story because lets me honest… who gives a shit? My husband and I decided to have a baby. I got preggo pretty quick and let me tell you pregnancy was a BITCH for me. I barfed every day my first trimester, second trimester I went to New Orleans for Jazzfest (had a ball) and started getting cramps and contractions. When I got home the doctor told me basically I was an idiot and needed to chill the F out. So I kept floating along getting bigger by the second and not really exercising and resting as much as I could. And then I got gestational diabetes, a type of diabetes only possible while you are pregnant and it sucks. Google it if you want to learn about it. I won’t bore you with the details but I did have to poke my finger every 4 hours every damn day.

Flash forward, I get induced because again the stupid GD and had a bitch of a labor. I pushed for four hours, had all the drugs any would give me. And still, my girl did not want to make an appearance. I ended up getting a c-section. But Nola Grace was born a happy healthy girl! I spent five days in the hospital and came home a mom.

Coming home, I had all these ideas what it would be like. I would walk every day and with breast-feeding I’d lose all the weight in three months ba-da-bing-ba-da-boom. Yeah, fucking right. I looked like I got hit by a bus every day. I would look in the mirror and think to myself who is this? Surely, not me. The hospital also gave me lovely drugs to take for the pain. So life just kept going and I was slightly numb to it all and still healing. Then, I will never forget the day those little pills were gone. I went to go take one and there was none. And I realized, this is my real life. I’m still in pain but there’s no coasting anymore. It hurts, it’s not fun and you just pick yourself up and keep going. And I started walking every day. Breast feeding didn’t work out well for me either. I cried, and tried everything but Nola was too impatient and I didn’t produce enough. At four and a half months I just let it go.

So, when my daughter was two months old my husband got a new job in San Diego. We up and move. My two sisters live here in San Diego and my in-laws are two hours away. So, I walk away from it all. My career, my friends and everything familiar, with a  two month old and new identity… Mom.

I’ve been in San Diego now for two months and I am in this weird but magical place. I am  at a salon one day a week. What the hell do I do with myself you ask? Well thats why I’m here. I’m getting myself back. When Nola was a month old she wanted me to wear her 24/7. That meant that even while I was peeing I would wear her, literally like a second skin. And I hated my body, it was lumps and shapes. The ideas I had of what I was going to be were obviously total bull shit.

Moving to San Diego I have joined a workout club, cook every meal, and am working on my self-image and my identity of being a new mom. That is what I’m going to write about. You don’t like what I have to say? Totally fine, these are all just my opinions. But, I’m super excited to start this journey now that you know who I am. Stay tuned, and let’s get weird!

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