Here is an almost frighteningly bare look inside my brain

and it wasn’t even posted by me. How odd to read words that I have said only to myself and maybe to Huz written here so perfectly by someone else. How very comforting, too. She has given it clarity that I have been unable to achieve. Finding the post was like a Christmas present.

Here was me last Christmas, newly postpartum:

Here was me with the Beavs this Christmas

No, it was not due to heavy pharmaceuticals, just time. I actually did spend time with the Beavers last Christmas, too, but I was in a fog. This year was exponentially better. Don’t our cook-ays rock? We also made Christmas unicorns, rhinos and our newly traditional sparkly poos (leftover gingerbread that we are too tipsy on Glogg to cut out properly).

Happy Holidays, peeps! Peace on Earth, goodwill to Women (and the fellas we love, too)!

So I got rid of my biggest hit-producing post

where I go on way too long about how all the moms I know are milfs, because dammit, they are cool fucking broads even if I can’t quite get along with every single one of them (crafty mamas). Still, those searching for some “milf action” are finding their way to me. Damn google caching and my tendency for cheeky self-referencing (D’oh! There I went again)!

It’s okay, though, I’ll play. I actually do have your MILFs in action still happening in this blog. I’ve got milfs marching on Washington!

Wait, don’t click away! You’re somebody’s son, maybe somebody’s brother, or husband, or boyfriend, or lover. We need you. You can look up porn later. I’m not condemning you. I’m just asking that you take a few minutes to find a way to honor women, all women. Whether you love, resent, lust after or just want to steal underwear from them, please take a few minutes to sign a petition or find a way to tell them you support them as important individuals who breathe life into this fucked up world we are all spinning on together.

Then go look at porn all you want. Keep it kind, though, babycakes. I don’t want to wreck your boner but remember that the woman you are hoping to find is somebody’s daughter, and she deserves more care and respect than she is likely getting as internet eye candy. Just a thought.

Carry on.

Spank you, spank you very much

Fah real doh, thanks, momomax.

Okay, my turn.

If I had a record label, I would sign momomax and all these broads as songwriters:

blue milk

Chaos is Normal

Self Made Mom

subarctic mama

The Road Less Traveled

walking through doors

We’d kick out the jams.

(You are now invited to copy and paste Rosie the Rockin’ Blogger into your blog, just because I like you and I said so. Cool, huh?)

There’s is some really beautiful advice being shared

over at Ask Moxie under the Moxie Manifesto post. If you are a mom or dad, or want to someday be a mom or dad, or hell, if you ever had a mom or dad and want to share or learn from what people are so kindly posting, here’s the link. Godspeed.

I, love, commas,

andIalsowritetoofast. So I wonder, when I publish what I intend to be my “final” post, and then go back and fix the quirks that I never notice until AFTER doing so, does that make the people who read my feed crazy? Does it repost an old post as a new post or an update if I fix my errors and re-publish? If so, I am genuinely sorry. I love you.