Guzzling The Haterade | Heir to Blair

Where I say thank you.

2 Dec posted by heirtoblair

From the bottom bits of my heart, THANK YOU.

Thank you for your sweet congratulations yesterday! You sure know how to make a girl blush & I’m just so sorry I haven’t been able to respond personally to everyone.

Thank you for following me over there, reading my words, & still hanging out with me here. I told the folks on Babble that my ~~readers~~ e-friends were the best & funniest & most loyal that you could ever find, & HOT DAMN, did y’all prove me right.

THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU for sticking up for me & basically delivering the most epic troll beat-down I have seen in years. You basically rolled in the STFU Truck while I was supporting a buddy of mine’s shop opening, & I appreciate you stepping in my absence.

(Also? Thank you for keeping it classy & letting her look like the fool.)

As you may have seen on the Twitters, I discovered that the hurtful words were coming from a woman I previously thought as a friend. I suppose I could spin it into a TRUST NOBODY! conspiracy theory about meeting friends on the interwebs, but the truth of it all is that no matter what parenting choices you make, someone will disagree. Breast versus bottle, BabyWise vs Attachment Parenting, working mom versus stay at home mom. We’ve all seen the battles but we never suspect our friends having cruel thoughts about us, always hidden behind a smile or sweet Facebook note.

So my thoughts on the whole situation boil down to friendship, not parenting – as someone’s friend, you have the responsibility of protecting their heart. Plain & simple. If you think there is an outrageous wrong happening, then by all means speak up! But do it TO THEIR FACE, with honesty out on the table. If you must hide your thoughts behind anonymity & gossip, then it is probably not worth speaking. & if you feel that negatively towards a “friend?” You disagree so strongly with them? It probably means the friendship ain’t worth it, so you cut your losses & find someone that you love unconditionally.

The good news is that in these days, most “friendships” can be desolved by defriending on Facebook. ::snort::

By the way, did I say THANK YOU enough for all the awesomeness yesterday?

Real friends dress up in cocktail dresses & fascinators, then go buy hot dogs on the streets of New York City.

HeirtoBlair500x150 v41 Where I say thank you.

36 Comments
Filed Under: All about BA, Babbling on Babble, FAIL, Guzzling the Haterade, I have real-life friends, Things that aren't perfect despite my best efforts, Toddler Times, Unpopular opinions

The beast that is mommy-blogging.

15 Apr posted by heirtoblair

Or really, any kind of blogging.

I can’t give enough details. I mean, I COULD, but you’d be bored to tears & banging your head on the table in frustration even more than usual & I just don’t want that for anyone. It would mean posts that threaten thesis papers & photos with so much editing that you can’t even wrap your head around what the picture is supposed to look like.

Take this picture, for example:

room The beast that is mommy blogging.

Harrison was playing quietly in his room & I opened the door to find this. Could trouble get any cuter? I think not.

The point of the post was just random cute baby stuff. Surface fluff to make you giggle. File it under warm fuzzies & tuck it back in the drawer. Until someone whips out the “I couldn’t imagine leaving my baby unattended! What if he got hurt?!” Translation: YOU SUCK ASS MOTHER, LEAVING YOUR BABY ALONE WHERE NINJAS COULD LEAP OUT OF DRESSER DRAWERS & ATTACK HIM WHILE YOU IGNORE PARENTING DUTIES. & then she may or may not dial CPS.

The reality behind the picture: Harry had run into his room, slammed the door shut, & was squealing happily at his monkey. I peeked in on him a few times only to find him sitting on the floor with his monkey, sucking his thumb. So I shut the door quietly & began trading out loads of laundry, not two feet away in the hall. His room is 100% baby-proofed & probably the safest room in the house with stable furniture & outlets covered. I peeked in a few minutes later & found this….hurricane? for lack of a better word.

Or this one, where someone made mention that his cheeks looked chapped, poor thing, which sent me into full defense mode:

harry porch wm1 The beast that is mommy blogging.

Honestly? The kid just gets rosy-cheeked when he’s running around. & boy, had he been running around! We had spent over an hour in the backyard chasing the dog, swinging, laughing, wrestling, etc. in the brisk sunshine. He had been wearing a jacket, but had pulled it off not a moment earlier as we all sat down to rest on the back porch. & yes, he cheeks are all kinds of spicy, but I secretly love it because it means he had a wonderful time. & that’s kind of the point, yes?

Moral of the story #1: Things aren’t always what they seem.

Moral of the story #2: Even I can be over-sensitive to comments. oops.

75 Comments
Filed Under: blog crap, FAIL, Guzzling the Haterade, I wish parenting came with a manual, Oversharing Extraordinaire, Things that aren't perfect despite my best efforts, Unpopular opinions

The tale of the ampersand.

24 Mar posted by heirtoblair

So you’ve been reading along for a couple of years or maybe just a couple of days & it hit’s you…

BLAIR & THAT GOD-FORSAKEN AMPERSAND.

Normal folks scratch their heads & carry on, trolls come out & do their typical “OH MY GOD, you suck & are so annoying & OMG with the ampersand & you trying to brand yourself.” I mean, yeah, I guess the ampersand is my thing now, whatever that means. But I’ve been doing it ever since high school.

Because I type really, really fast & have sort of a finger dyslexia. So I kept mistakenly typing “nad.” Which never really went over well on email & IM before auto-correct.

I’m sitting there typing a heartfelt instant message, trying to be coy & funny & darling over the interwebs with the cutie from my chorus class & BAM! I type “nads” to a boy that I like. This is devastating to a 16-year-old virgin’s psyche.

So I switched to ampersands.

I’m proud to say that I have been balls-free in emails, blog posts, & instant messaging since 1999.

45 Comments
Filed Under: All about BA, BA's a nerd, blog crap, Guzzling the Haterade, Random, Unpopular opinions

Diary of a Mean Girl.

11 Feb posted by heirtoblair

I watched them from afar, trembling whenever they came close. I never knew whether they would bestow a benevolent smile or scowl at my imperfection. It started in third grade – whispers on the playground in small huddles. In fourth grade, I spent an entire night sobbing when I was denied a birthday party invitation. In eighth grade, I listened to the jeers about my height & love of literature. I slouched at my desk in high school, desperately hoping they would ignore my pants that were too short, the wrong brand, & awkward on my long legs.

But they never ignored an opportunity. They always found a stray thread on my self-confidence to pull, ripping the seams & shredding my self-worth.

Those girls grew up. Backpacks became Kate Spade bags & slap bracelets became diamond rings. & they have a new playground – Facebook, Twitter, WordPress, message boards.

Mean girls, set to conquer & destroy, but now with a keyboard & barbed fingers.

A few years ago, I stumbled across a community of message boards – I was a lonely newlywed, young & looking for friendship. On these boards, I found my very best friends. During the day, we would sneak online during lunch breaks to check-in, chatting about everything from home decor to sex to tips on merging bank accounts. At night & on weekends, we would meet for coffee dates & walks around the local lake. We were kind & funny, but over time, we spent more energy on the message boards & branched out into the community. & I discovered the mighty weight of my words & “popularity” on the boards.

With a few strokes on the keys, I could tap out a rapid-fire response & whittle my words into any form. I quickly learned the art of “snark,” otherwise known as a comeback laced with snap & sarcasm & irony. Anyone who dared question my authority over the board was met with an arched eyebrow & biting retort, sending folks straight into pearl-clutching & panty-twisting. I was smart. Biting. Witty. But cruel.

The worst part is? I thought I was being funny. In my heart & mind, I was being tongue-in-cheek & full of sass. People were afraid of me & I got a high off the ass-kissing & pontificating. I thought I was “harmlessly” educating stupid questions that were deserving of snide remarks, punishment for inadequacy. Looking back, I was simply being cruel. I had become the mean girl that I feared in grade school, preying on others insecurities to buffer the sting of my own. & there lies the heart of the entire tragic existence:

Why is a mean girl so mean?

Because she sucks at life. She’s over-compensating for what is missing in her life. & she’s an asshole.

Really. Trust me, I am an expert on this subject as proven above.

When I think back on all of the time wasted on the internet, belittling someone’s values & intelligence, I am only faced with the void in my own life. I had nothing important to weigh me down to earth or hold me responsible for my actions. Nothing that demanded responsibility to humanity or myself. I thought that my words bounced through the air, never really landing or causing harm with any permanence. As if the people behind the other computer screens were not real people with hearts & feelings.

I was wrong.

I never fully realized the implications of my actions until I looked at Harrison & was faced with his innocence. I am responsible for shaping his life & his value of humanity. When he sees his mother acting so recklessly, what does that teach him? Who am I to teach him that another person’s thoughts, creativity, feelings, & values are wrong? I realized under the humbling weight of motherhood that I needed to change.

Unfortunately, I can never take back those words that I flung so carelessly to strangers. Even if I tried, I could not find every individual that I spoke to & apologize for my cruelty. In many circles, my online reputation is shattered & I pay for it daily with emails & trolling on my personal blog. A digital footprint is not easily erased.

If you are ever hounded by an online mean girl, please take heart – it’s not you, it’s her. She is intimidated by something she sees in you because it reflects something inside of her – either something she hates to see in herself, or more often, pure jealousy over what she lacks in comparison. (remember, I’m an expert on this)

If you are tempted to play the roll of the mean girl, I beg you to stop & think before hitting “send” or “publish.” What is your motivation? Would you say it to your child? Your mother? Mother Teresa herself? Those words will be there forever. Make sure they are words you are willing to stand by forever.

You, with your words like knives & swords & weapons that you use against me
You have knocked me off my feet again, got me feeling like I’m nothing
You, with your voice like nails on a chalkboard, calling me out when I’m wounded
You, picking on the weaker man…
But all you are is mean
~Taylor Swift

__________________________________

If you are someone I have hurt in the past, I am sorry. Truly. If I could take back those words & be a friend to you today, I would in a heartbeat. I hope you accept my apology & if you would like a more specific one, I would love for you to email me so we can talk. (heirtoblairblog@gmail.com)

169 Comments
Filed Under: Adult Club, All about BA, FAIL, Fears, Guzzling the Haterade, Life in General, The Bump, Things I didn't understand until I birthed a child

Rock bottom.

11 Jun posted by heirtoblair

I went for a walk tonight. I had such a good day today emotionally that I just knew I had to walk for therapy. So I hit the pavement at twilight with the cool air & setting sun. My iPod was dead. It was a blessing to just hear my breathing & padding footsteps.

& I thought.

I thought a lot. About life, about Harrison, my family, this blog.

Somewhere during my walk, I noticed rocks on the roads – bigger ones, & then tiny pebbles. I started kicking the big rocks. Kick. Kick. Kick. No matter how hard or soft I kicked those big rocks, they inevitably ran off the road into grass. I kicked the smaller rocks – a more difficult, precise task that took much more concentration. But with that precision & practice, the small rocks stayed on the road. Always.

I kept walking & kicking rocks. & realized that those rocks were my blog.

KICK.

I have been kicking the big rocks. & it shows because my blog has gone off the path. Sometimes I kicked hard, sometimes I kicked gently, but either way, it was the wrong rock & the inevitable happened. I’m off-track. Too much pressure on myself from myself. I’m at a weird place where I still love my blog, but I’ve gone awry. I took down too many boundaries for myself & am feeling the heat.

So I’m going to stop kicking those big rocks. I’m keeping a few things “closer to the vest” as my buddy Bonzer would say, although I still hope that some of my blogging will give insight to the disease that is PPD/PPA/PPeverything. Until further notice, I am no longer taking any new giveaways & reviews. I do have a few commitments still hanging out there that I am excited about, & I cannot tell you how many emails I have responded regretfully to this week. Of course, I will still be working with my sponsors. But this is for the best. & I hope you enjoy what will come of it, as I am sure it will lead to better writing & a better me, & therefore a better time reading our crazy antics for you.

Also, I am not made of stone – when you tell me to not have children anymore, that I’m a terrible mother, you’re ramming down the thoughts that I’ve had for months. Ramming them back down my throat. That is RUDE. It’s uncalled for. It’s not constructive. It’s not cute. I’ve been that woman to other women before & I tell you, karma sucks. It will come back at you & when it does, you will be trying to undo it with a vengeance. If you are one of those women that I kicked when they were down before, I’m sorry. The only thing I can say is that motherhood changed me, & I am a better person. I am sorry. I wish I could apologize over a cup of coffee & take back everything I said. But on that note, I do have the right to take down any comments that I deem rude or non-constructive to either my child, other readers, my sponsors, or myself. & as Eddie Murphy said, “This is my house. If you don’t like it, get the eff out.”

I never said this blog would always be fun. Or pretty. Or funny. It’s a woman in progress, so it is unfair to think that I will always stay the same. Sometimes I will change for the worse. Sometimes, I’ll be better. I’m working on being better for good. You may notice the changes. You may not. My prayer is that I will & that my family will notice.

enjoy1 Rock bottom.

Because I want more days like today. I want more days where I feel like The One with my little boy. I want more days where I excel at work. More walks at sunset, more giggles in bathtime, more fluffy butts reaching for one more kiss before bed. More cups of tea, more little Ikea lamps that make me smile. I want more days where my husband & I have already met the desired “Kiss Quota” with more promised later.

The little rocks are harder to kick. They take more precision, concentration, & attention. But they stay on course. & that’s what we all need right now.

91 Comments
Filed Under: blog crap, Fears, Guzzling the Haterade, Things that aren't perfect despite my best efforts, Unpopular opinions