Parental Competitiveness

When you make that decision to have your first child there is nothing that anyone can tell you that will prepare you in anyway for the new encounters ahead. In fact, you may find the majority of the advice hurled your way insulting, we are all born with the same instincts, we are all planning to be the best mothers we can, the rest is a journey that differs greatly between each traveler upon the windy road of parenthood.
Right? Well sort of, there is this one piece of advice that Id like to throw at you to try on for size and if it doesnt fit feel free to ditch it straight back at me, or to save a fight just disregard.
Get them fighting gloves on and if your of the pacifist variety then at least prepare yourself for a little healthy competition.

You see, this is what you get when a generation of las's see themselves fit to mother.. And yes Im about to generalise and possibly piss off allot of people, well a few depending on if anyone actually reads my posts anymore. A group of ladies, all successful in their own right, who's chosen careers and life paths all differ greatly from woman to woman, they catch up on the weekends with genuine interests in each others lives, from hairdressers to accountants to traveling artists to doll bludgers. They all have a story to tell, a laugh to share and as far as each other is concerned they are all following through these life choices with the upmost conviction.

This is until they decide to have kids... All of them, possibly not in the same year but lets say with a 5 year time frame, what does this mean? Well you have taken the hairdresser, the accountant, the blonde, the brunette, the skinny chick and the curvey one and you have given them all the exact same job.. Motherhood. There is bound to be competition, you cant even blame us.
What categories you be expected to be competing in?

Anything from how well your children eat to how natural and difficult the labour.
To take things all the way back to the beginning, let me give you a little heads up on the labour sitch. Apparently the less pain relief, the greater the woman. This is a funny one, I clearly failed as I had my epidural before I was even induced, I played 'words with friends' and wondered why the word 'cunt' isnt actually a word while someone else pulled a baby out of my fanny. Big No No, Freo hippies were shaking their heads for weeks. Another bizarre labour fact is "The less stitches, the greater the woman" Cant get my head around why people brag about not needing stitches...., is a big fanny something to take pride in these days?? Jees, next there will be a facebook page dedicated to small dicks, we could call it Naked Peenys. Cesarean, fail, even if the baby was breach still a fail. Induction, fail. Basically the only way your going to win on the labour front is if you push a 5 kg baby out of your huge vag in your car on the way to the 'birthing centre' and don't tear. Good luck with that.

Sleeping babies. Most of your friends will tell you that their baby sleeps through at 3 months, why? Because thats what a natural organic breastfed baby does, it sleeps though because soul mumma over here knows all the tricks, read all the books and basically looks shit hot everyday after a lazy 12 hours sleep. I like to call my failure on this topic 'musical beds' My kids are up all night swapping beds and keeping the whole house up. In fact my 4 year old was up counting the shrapnel she had stolen through the day at 3am last nigh. I tried to choke myself on one of her 5cent coins, I failed at that too.

How much TV do your kids watch? Can your little fucker speak French yet? Do you still get time to go to the Gym? In fact do you still get time to wank every night? Did you drink Coconut water and engulf yourself in Evian spring water every day while pregnant? Why not? Why the fuck not?

Why don't men have this same competitive streak? Well thats simple, a mans life still maintains some sort of regularity during the child bearing years. They still get gratification at work, getting maggot with their friends, just grabbing a short mac on your own must be so fucking gratifying compared to this shit! In fact if I only had my kids for an hour in the evenings and on the weekends then maybe I wouldn't be sitting here right now seething over the Thermoixed organic mash that my friends all made for their kids dinners while busy me (lazy) me gave my son baked beans.

I dont care, I come last with everything anyway. I love my my kids, my friends all love their kids, even the cunt who lives down the road who's angry little bastard of a 4 year old already knows his 4x tables loves her kids.
This is just a friendly warning, so if it happens to you or someone you know, laugh it off. It actually doesnt matter in the scheme of things, it will pass. Hopefully at your baby shower some funny fucker will buy you a pair of boxing gloves xxxxxx

Intoxicating Love

Besties

a story of love....

Lovers, you fall in love with each other, he electrocutes you with his every touch, he motivates you to spend your rent money on new clothes, to call in sick from work just to spend more quality time in bed together, you think about each other during those 30 minute gaps that your not together, you ditch your mates to hang out with his, his morning breath doesnt repulse you and big dick or small dick, generous lover or selfish he is the best fuck you've ever had. You kiss him, you fuck him, you fall asleep, dream about kissing him wake up and fuck him.

Enjoying your life this much, having your every vein injected with him is of course a slow acting poison, unsustainable happiness if you continue this way your world will come crashing down.

The fire becomes tiring, nobody has the energy for the constant state of passion. The fire becomes smoke, nobody grieves, we all know that where there is smoke there is fire, resting fire.

Your boyfriend becomes your best friend, he watches the road while you text walk, he picks you up from the pub when your smashed and listens to you bitch about your friend and what a cunt her new boyfriend is, you decide on bathroom colour schemes while he is taking a crap, you send each other photos of what your cooking for dinner.

Life is as it should be, you found each other. You forget where he ends and you begin.

Time goes by, complacency rears its unwelcome head.

He has a bad day at work and takes it out on you, you cant speak to him without it turning in to a fight, he starts to go out with his friends more, you less, he laughs with his mates the way that he used to laugh with you. You stop giving him blow jobs. Your worried that he might pick up another woman, look after another woman, buy her drinks, memorise her ticklish spots, save her the wings on his roast chicken. You hate his mum. Sometimes when he snores instead of putting in ear plugs you kick him really hard. You want to stop him from going out and enjoying himself and you don't know why. He gave up hassling you for sex. He thinks the food you cook is shit and doesn't bother saying thanks anymore. You stop wanting him to come home and start preying that he doesn't. He stinks. You don't care if he picks up another woman. He gets stingy with his money. He thinks your using him, draining him. He finds you ugly. 

He moves out, your sad. So is he. 

You bump in to things while your text walking and your bed is cold. He looks around at the emptiness that going out every nights bringing him and starts to ask himself allot of questions. Your cooking wasnt really that bad. Your actually quite pretty.

He tries to pick up another girl but she doesnt make him laugh or have freckles on her nose, you cant think of another man, you miss his smell.

You fuck each other again. Its amazing. 

He moves back in, you call in sick from work.

You kiss him, you fuck him, you fall asleep and dream about kissing him, you wake up and fuck him.