A Mother's POV (AKA., a Mother's Perspective)
This mom's got a lotta love to spread around, but she keeps that to herself and brings her personal brand of snarky insights and homespun wisdom to our blog instead. We hope her daughter-in-law hasn't read any of it.
02/07/2013
My name is Jean and I used to teach 1st graders at some grade school named after a White President. Lincoln, Washington, Nixon, it doesn't matter what the name was, we're all the same color in the suburbs. Isn't it nice to know that some things never change?
I know some of you remember me fondly from a little column I wrote for the Weekly Insert called The Smiling Lady. I hope you will enjoy my new blog. It's about being a mom and having a point of view. The smile comes with the picture.
Today I wanted to talk about stopping to smell the flowers, sharing a laugh with a friend, and driving a wedge between your children and their mates.
Stop to smell the flowers because they can't stop to smell you.
Share a laugh with a friend even if it's at their expense. Laughter is the medicine of those who can't afford the real thing.
Finally, I'll never see what my son sees in that whore that his children call mom. But that's a column for another day.
Remember, a mother's thoughts are always with her children unless those children are no longer talking to that mother. I know my readers agree. You make one observation about a grand child not looking like the father and all hell breaks loose. Hey, I'm not the one who married a stripper. Until next time, love with an open heart, learn with an open mind, and talk with an open mouth.
I know some of you remember me fondly from a little column I wrote for the Weekly Insert called The Smiling Lady. I hope you will enjoy my new blog. It's about being a mom and having a point of view. The smile comes with the picture.
Today I wanted to talk about stopping to smell the flowers, sharing a laugh with a friend, and driving a wedge between your children and their mates.
Stop to smell the flowers because they can't stop to smell you.
Share a laugh with a friend even if it's at their expense. Laughter is the medicine of those who can't afford the real thing.
Finally, I'll never see what my son sees in that whore that his children call mom. But that's a column for another day.
Remember, a mother's thoughts are always with her children unless those children are no longer talking to that mother. I know my readers agree. You make one observation about a grand child not looking like the father and all hell breaks loose. Hey, I'm not the one who married a stripper. Until next time, love with an open heart, learn with an open mind, and talk with an open mouth.
02/22/2013
Hello, readers. It's Jean, again. So much has happened since my last column. Where do I begin?
I have moved into my wonderful office at Duck Logic Headquarters and I can't tell you how much these boys have made me feel welcome and at home here. They even put my name on my office door. I sure hope that's not permanent marker. They spelled my first name with a G and my last name with a swastika. Remember, everyone's entitled to one mistake, as long as they don't become a habit. Like the one my son's wife developed when she was pregnant with their oldest. But this is a column about smiles and kind words and I promise you that is what you will get every week as long as I write on your internets and blogs. Oh, and I also learned that I am still a "special Valentine" to my husband Pete. See how a quick stop at Walgreen's can make all the difference in a day.
Well, it's time to think about the world from a mother's point of view.
You're probably wondering how my family is doing and I have some news on that front.
My son has changed the locks on his doors and informed me not to attend any more school activities for his youngest daughter, Casey. I think you know who needs to turn their frown upside down and let his mother have a little more leeway when it comes to persuading the school volleyball coach to keep their face out of my favorite tavern and let my grand daughter play more than that future bag of fat known as Christine Zalborelli. If you want to know what a young girl will look like when they're older just look at the mother and the grandmother. Lovely ladies to talk to after church, but if they don't tweeze you swear you're talking to a pair of linebackers.
That's a bit of what has been going on in my life. I sure would love to hear from all you mothers about what is going on in your lives.
Until next time, love with an open heart, learn with an open mind, and talk with an open mouth.
I have moved into my wonderful office at Duck Logic Headquarters and I can't tell you how much these boys have made me feel welcome and at home here. They even put my name on my office door. I sure hope that's not permanent marker. They spelled my first name with a G and my last name with a swastika. Remember, everyone's entitled to one mistake, as long as they don't become a habit. Like the one my son's wife developed when she was pregnant with their oldest. But this is a column about smiles and kind words and I promise you that is what you will get every week as long as I write on your internets and blogs. Oh, and I also learned that I am still a "special Valentine" to my husband Pete. See how a quick stop at Walgreen's can make all the difference in a day.
Well, it's time to think about the world from a mother's point of view.
You're probably wondering how my family is doing and I have some news on that front.
My son has changed the locks on his doors and informed me not to attend any more school activities for his youngest daughter, Casey. I think you know who needs to turn their frown upside down and let his mother have a little more leeway when it comes to persuading the school volleyball coach to keep their face out of my favorite tavern and let my grand daughter play more than that future bag of fat known as Christine Zalborelli. If you want to know what a young girl will look like when they're older just look at the mother and the grandmother. Lovely ladies to talk to after church, but if they don't tweeze you swear you're talking to a pair of linebackers.
That's a bit of what has been going on in my life. I sure would love to hear from all you mothers about what is going on in your lives.
Until next time, love with an open heart, learn with an open mind, and talk with an open mouth.
03/19/2013
Good day, readers. I'm here again to bring a smile to your face, a glow to your cheeks, and a hint of drama to any family get together. I know I asked you to send me your letters on your lives as mothers and I was surprised at the response. Here is one letter I chose for this column:
Dear Jean,
What do you do with a meddling mother-in-law who can't keep her big nose out of family matters, especially when it comes to her son, grand daughter, and daughter-in-laws' daily lives?
Signed,
Invaded in Inverness
Dear Invaded,
Maybe you need to look at this from a different perspective, a mother's perspective, and then you'll be able to see that what looks forceful and "meddling", is actually keeping your family from irrepairable psychological damage done by you or anyone on your side of the family fence. A mother never does more than she's asked unless she's never asked in the first place.
Jean
I hope that helps all you moms who just don't know when to say when or how to say no to anything that never included you in the first place.
Until next time, love with an open heart, learn with an open mind, and talk with an open mouth.
Dear Jean,
What do you do with a meddling mother-in-law who can't keep her big nose out of family matters, especially when it comes to her son, grand daughter, and daughter-in-laws' daily lives?
Signed,
Invaded in Inverness
Dear Invaded,
Maybe you need to look at this from a different perspective, a mother's perspective, and then you'll be able to see that what looks forceful and "meddling", is actually keeping your family from irrepairable psychological damage done by you or anyone on your side of the family fence. A mother never does more than she's asked unless she's never asked in the first place.
Jean
I hope that helps all you moms who just don't know when to say when or how to say no to anything that never included you in the first place.
Until next time, love with an open heart, learn with an open mind, and talk with an open mouth.
06/01/2013
Jean, here, with another chance to see the world from a mother's point of view. I guess I should tell you that the reason I have been running old columns for the last month is because my daughter in law decided to enforce something called a cease and desist law when it comes to anything written about her in a public forum. Once a stripper, always a stripper, I say. You can take the stripper out of the dysfunctional home life, but you can't take the dysfunctional home life out of the stripper. But more on that later, ladies.
I have really enjoyed my time off. I have been gardening and I have to tell you that it is just so much fun planting my prize winning roses, feeling the power of mother earth in my dainty hands, and eavesdropping on my hillbilly neighbors and their comical attempts at domestic bliss. If I have to call 911 again, I'm going to be on a first name basis or buy a frequent caller plan. I have also had time to get down to the Book Barn and pick up some wonderful new books including When Mom Is Right, God Loves Everyone Except You Know Who?, and my current page turner, The Stripper Wife Code which is about the dark and very pregnant underbelly of stripper wives and the men who marry them. I bought an extra copy for my son. I haven't received a thank you card for my efforts. Some people don't know how to navigate the world of family etiquette. Oh, well, tomorrow is another day and another mail delivery.
Anyway, where was I? Oh, yes, my daughter-in-law is apparently fit to be tied about the fact my columns often mention what she used to do and, to the best of my knowledge, still does for a handful of indistinguishable crumpled dollar bills at bachelor parties and establishments with expiring liquor licenses on the edge of town. Listen, I can't change history or the facts. The truth has a funny way of coming back to bite us in the posterior, something I'm sure my daughter in law features in her stage show. I should wrap this up. Again, I am so glad to be back writing about the world from a mother's point of view and I look forward to hearing from you all as well as the lawyers currently employed by my thin skinned, pole dancing daughter-in-law. Isn't life wonderful?
I have really enjoyed my time off. I have been gardening and I have to tell you that it is just so much fun planting my prize winning roses, feeling the power of mother earth in my dainty hands, and eavesdropping on my hillbilly neighbors and their comical attempts at domestic bliss. If I have to call 911 again, I'm going to be on a first name basis or buy a frequent caller plan. I have also had time to get down to the Book Barn and pick up some wonderful new books including When Mom Is Right, God Loves Everyone Except You Know Who?, and my current page turner, The Stripper Wife Code which is about the dark and very pregnant underbelly of stripper wives and the men who marry them. I bought an extra copy for my son. I haven't received a thank you card for my efforts. Some people don't know how to navigate the world of family etiquette. Oh, well, tomorrow is another day and another mail delivery.
Anyway, where was I? Oh, yes, my daughter-in-law is apparently fit to be tied about the fact my columns often mention what she used to do and, to the best of my knowledge, still does for a handful of indistinguishable crumpled dollar bills at bachelor parties and establishments with expiring liquor licenses on the edge of town. Listen, I can't change history or the facts. The truth has a funny way of coming back to bite us in the posterior, something I'm sure my daughter in law features in her stage show. I should wrap this up. Again, I am so glad to be back writing about the world from a mother's point of view and I look forward to hearing from you all as well as the lawyers currently employed by my thin skinned, pole dancing daughter-in-law. Isn't life wonderful?
07/20/2013
Jean here, again, to provide A Mother's Perspetive for all those issues that need the wisdom of a mom.
I haven't been writing my column on a regular basis because some people at this blog think I am turning the page over to rants about my cuckolded son and his less than upstanding wife. Well, I should rephrase that last part. She's less than upstanding only when she isn't up standing near a stripper pole. But more on that later readers. It's just so comforting to know that censorship exists in the least likely places. I mean I thought these boys had a sense of humor, but the memos from legal and corporate seem to disagree with yours truly. Anyway, here's some thoughts on some items that crossed my desk since we last got together over a hot cup of coffee and a cease and desist letter.
Ladies, never wear anything too revealing in public. You want to remain a mystery that he wants to read and that tramp stamp is only going to send him back to his Nook for another book. That goes double for former strippers who have not aged well.
Every mother needs to know that your children are your ticket to the greatest moments in life, providing the ticket is not printed out on cheap business card stock and obviously a fake.
Women know that being a Mom requires the ability to juggle home, work and community like they were those bowling pins and you were one of those street performers who bother you every time you try to enjoy an art festival or a free block party that has been crashed by the people in the next block over. But enough about that trash.
I should end my column with a bit of advice about outdoor entertaining and making your guest list. Friends are fine when you wine and dine. Family are fun if it's one and done. Former stripper daughter in laws give one plenty to pause when sons won't take direction on public displays of affection.
Well, ladies I have a meeting with my attorney to attend and some calls to make when it comes to taking care of this little issue about my column and the many times we need A Mother's Perspective.
I haven't been writing my column on a regular basis because some people at this blog think I am turning the page over to rants about my cuckolded son and his less than upstanding wife. Well, I should rephrase that last part. She's less than upstanding only when she isn't up standing near a stripper pole. But more on that later readers. It's just so comforting to know that censorship exists in the least likely places. I mean I thought these boys had a sense of humor, but the memos from legal and corporate seem to disagree with yours truly. Anyway, here's some thoughts on some items that crossed my desk since we last got together over a hot cup of coffee and a cease and desist letter.
Ladies, never wear anything too revealing in public. You want to remain a mystery that he wants to read and that tramp stamp is only going to send him back to his Nook for another book. That goes double for former strippers who have not aged well.
Every mother needs to know that your children are your ticket to the greatest moments in life, providing the ticket is not printed out on cheap business card stock and obviously a fake.
Women know that being a Mom requires the ability to juggle home, work and community like they were those bowling pins and you were one of those street performers who bother you every time you try to enjoy an art festival or a free block party that has been crashed by the people in the next block over. But enough about that trash.
I should end my column with a bit of advice about outdoor entertaining and making your guest list. Friends are fine when you wine and dine. Family are fun if it's one and done. Former stripper daughter in laws give one plenty to pause when sons won't take direction on public displays of affection.
Well, ladies I have a meeting with my attorney to attend and some calls to make when it comes to taking care of this little issue about my column and the many times we need A Mother's Perspective.
09/14/2013
Jean, here with another way of looking at life From A Mothers' Perspective. I have had the most wonderful summer hiatus at the Betty Ford Clinic. Oh, it's not what you think. I was taking a sabbatical from my readers to catch up with all the wonderful stories of the people who are legally forced to spend three months of their life in what I can only describe as a cross between the local welcome wagon and those that should be on the wagon. Like, my stripper daughter-in-law. But more on that later.
Betty Ford Clinic is covered by most insurance plans so you know it's good. The help is only slightly more bitter than my son's three children after a lifetime of neglect and modern parenting. There are flowers on the tables, fresh cookies in the afternoons, and plenty of time to get to know how to use group therapy and I -statements. I need to say that I was pleasantly surprised to see my stripper daughter-in-law there for something that should have been addressed in her twenties. Anyway, we all have our daddy issues and she's no different. I am just so glad I can report to you wonderful readers of this blog, that there is a place that takes care of things when you decide that Jim Beam and Zoloft are daily dance partners. I'm talking to you, stripper daughter-in-laws' biological mother.
That's just a small picture of what I investigated over the summer at Betty Ford Clinic. It seems that there is this thing called confidentiality that makes normal human communication impossible without a bunch of lawyers getting involved. Next time, I tell you how to have fun with your grandchildren with just a screw driver and some basic fossil fuels.
Betty Ford Clinic is covered by most insurance plans so you know it's good. The help is only slightly more bitter than my son's three children after a lifetime of neglect and modern parenting. There are flowers on the tables, fresh cookies in the afternoons, and plenty of time to get to know how to use group therapy and I -statements. I need to say that I was pleasantly surprised to see my stripper daughter-in-law there for something that should have been addressed in her twenties. Anyway, we all have our daddy issues and she's no different. I am just so glad I can report to you wonderful readers of this blog, that there is a place that takes care of things when you decide that Jim Beam and Zoloft are daily dance partners. I'm talking to you, stripper daughter-in-laws' biological mother.
That's just a small picture of what I investigated over the summer at Betty Ford Clinic. It seems that there is this thing called confidentiality that makes normal human communication impossible without a bunch of lawyers getting involved. Next time, I tell you how to have fun with your grandchildren with just a screw driver and some basic fossil fuels.