Christmas just got f*cking awesome.

We had breakfast with Santa last week.

My son is two and half.

He whispered to Santa that he went poo poo on the potty.

Why?  Because I think he believes in Santa.  And I think he believes that is very important information for Santa to know.  He believes that Santa will be proud of him.

Let’s flash back to a decade or so ago-

* insert mental picture of a flashback effect, like warpy, fuzziness around the edges of your screen- or just have Wayne and Garth float across wiggling their fingers saying “du du du du du … du du du du du” *

I’m kicking back on a sofa with a spiked egg nog in my hand.  I’m looking all mid twenties- sexy, and I proclaim to the party goer next to me that I am always going to tell my children the truth.  “That’s if I have kids.  But if I do, I will respect their intelligence, and I will raise them to be honest people with the highest regard for truth.  Santa is a lie, and it just sets kids up for heartbreak in the future.  Kids can easily understand the spirit of Christmas and giving, without conjuring up a big story about a fat guy with presents.”

Now let’s come back to the present, and my not-quite- as- sexy, but less of an idiot self.

I am presently crafting a lie to top all lies.

And I’m so f*cking excited!

Now, he’s still very young- so Santa may still be a bit abstract.  But that’s what makes this year the most important year ever.  This year is the year we build the foundation.  This is the year he believes pretty much anything we tell him.

We are creating the foundation for many more years of lies to come.

It’s the best.

I never realized what an excellent liar I could be!

I’m making Christmas, people!  Hot Nerd and I are sculpting it, crafting it, creating the magic.

He’s already had breakfast with the big guy himself.

Hot Nerd has told him about the reindeer, and chimney, and elves, and presents… and Bam Bam looks mesmerized every time we tell the story.

I’m putting freaking cookies out for Santa.  And I’m sure as hell not gonna forget a little carrot for Rudolph who works so hard.

All the gifts from Santa get special wrapping paper.

Santa sent my son a special video message from The Portable North Pole.

And I may or may not even visit iCaughtSanta.com, and get a picture of Santa sneaking into our house to put presents under the tree.

Sure, I know that someday he may find out that not everything we’ve told him is true.  And he may be heartbroken.  But someday he’s also gonna find out that real toothpaste doesn’t taste like bubble gum, that people sometimes hurt one another on purpose, and that health insurance companies are the devil.

But for now… I want there to be magic.

So

bring

it

on.

Come on over Santa, and Tooth Fairy, I got your wings right here.

Because, although I’ve always been a firm believer in the truth- I believe even more in the innocence and wonder of childhood.

It’s a whole new ball game now.

Christmas just got fucking awesome.

Thank you, misfortune.

There are people out there whose spirits burn as bright as the sun.  Other people want to spontaneously hug them, and when they speak about their lives, people cry.  These are people that change the energy of a room just by walking into it.

A lot of these people have dealt with terrible misfortune.

They see things through a prism of experiences that is unlike any other. Their “prisms” have been cut so many times, and so drastically, that you would think they could hardly see through it.  Instead, they see a million times more, in all different directions.  And on top of that, are able to cast brilliant rays of light over the world around them.

Then, there are people like this:

People who have had a beautiful life of privilege, and opportunity.  Why is it that sometimes (not all) these people are actually capable of sucking the light out of the world?  Shouldn’t these people be the ones casting rays of light on the world around them?

Why is it often times someone like this:

Someone who has every right to be angry with the world… why is it that this person can find the verve to go out and shower the world with love?  Nick Vujicic (above) has no arms and no legs… yet he spends his life traveling the globe, bringing his message of hope, love, and positivity to millions.

People see him as almost “superhuman”, with his ability to overcome all odds.  With the love that comes pouring out of his every pore.  With the energy that radiates off of him.

But perhaps he’s more human than most of us are.

I can only believe that with great misfortune, tragedy, or loss-  comes strength of spirit.

Because some of the most amazing people I know have been through some pretty rough shit.

Every time our prisms suffer a cut, it’s an opportunity to shine light in a different direction.  Each new facet is a moment of learning, of feeling, of being human.

I’m not saying tragedy and struggle is all sunshine and roses.  Life can be dark, painful, and sometimes unbearable.  But after a time- I think deep, deep sorrow can mutate into powerful energy, and sometimes grace.

Other times it can crush you, and you self destruct.

I’m making a choice.

I believe I am at the point in my life, where the tragedies have built up to a point where I can no longer shake my fist at the sky, and mourn, and cry, and hope for something better.

I can only surrender.

And move forward.

And say thank you.

Thank you, misfortune.

Because I feel myself moving farther from this:

And becoming closer to this:

**

Not everyone gets the opportunity to grow so much.

*****     *****     *****     *****     *****     *****     *****     *****

You can read more about Nick Vujicic at Lifewithoutlimbs.org.

You can also watch this-

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gc4HGQHgeFE

***

I was almost on The Ellen Show- and then I told the truth.

“The producers of the show finally  contacted me and said they would love to help me out.  What do we do?”

This is the question that Hot Nerd posed to me a few years ago, and I remember it like yesterday. It’s one of those moments, where you have to chose to go left or right- and they are so very different directions.  One was the high road, and the other… was the awesome road.

I actually can’t believe I haven’t told you guys this story before.

Four years ago, Hot Nerd proposed to me in the most magical way possible. You can read about it here- Happy Birthday To Me.

If your too lazy to read, let me sum up-  It was my birthday. It was a treasure hunt. It was all of my favorite things (spa, food, horseback riding, champagne). It was the best day ever. He proposed. I said yes.

I thought it couldn’t get any better, until he told me his original plan.

He had called the producers of The Ellen Show, and asked if there was any way he could propose to me on the show.  He actually had a serious discussion with one of them about it.

WHAT?!

How effing spectacular is my husband?!

He knew, at the time, that Ellen Degeneres was my unwilling BFF.

Ellen loves to dance. I love to dance. I love it with my bones. And as a choreographer, my dream would be to make up odd moves for the Ellen Show Dancers- the troupe I’ve assembled in my mind to dance before each show, like the Solid Gold Dancers, only less slutty.

Anyway, before I digress too far into my Ellen fantasy, you should know that a couple months passed, and he grew tired of sitting on the ring, and basically sweating bullets every time he thought I might find it. He never heard from the producers, so he planned to pop the question on my birthday.

Just

a

few

days

later

they

called.

“The producers of the show contacted me, and said they would love to help me out. What do we do?”

What do we do?

What do we do?

I think I thought about it for a couple seconds, and then before I could stop myself…

“You have to tell them it’s too late- you already did it.”

“But we could pretend I didn’t do it.”

“That would be dishonest.”

The next morning, I had a truth hangover. I had visions of me on the show, and Hot Nerd on one knee with a big, fat diamond (generously donated from some fancy jeweler).  I would’ve gotten a gorgeous dress from a top designer.  And probably a honeymoon we could never afford.

Instead I saw it all happen to another girl… her boyfriend proposed to her on The Ellen Show.

But I still have my awful dignity.

I curse my inability to lie.

I seriously can’t do it.  It hurts my soul.  I’m like Abe Lincoln, but without the beard.

Obviously, we got married, and all turned out well.

And a part of me hopes that decisions like these will be made just as quickly by son when he’s older. That he will know, right away, in his gut, what’s right and what’s wrong.

I still love The Ellen Show.

But it would be a whole lot cooler with The Ellen Show Dancers, choreographed by yours truly.

In the end, I’d say it’s Ellen who missed out.

Dang my conscience.

I thought I was open minded, but Montana’s confusing the sh*t out of me.

My two year old son says penis, and I’m okay with that.

The ongoing recent debate about Helena, Montana’s Sex Education plans has, of course, caught my attention. If you haven’t heard, there is a proposed health curriculum guide for grades K-12 that has some parents very riled up. The 62 page proposal is, in short, a health, nutrition, anatomy, and disease prevention program. But it’s the very small section on sex education that has Montana in a tizzy.

Some argue the age- appropriateness of it. Others say it borders on offensive. And some think it’s realistic, and basically a good idea. Here are some of the “hot points”:

  • At the kindergarten level, it is suggested that children be introduced to correct anatomical terms such as penis, breasts, nipples, vagina, and uterus.
  • In first grade, the concept of people loving someone of the same gender would be introduced. Homosexuality itself would be discussed in the fifth grade.
  • Fifth graders would also learn that intercourse “includes but is not limited to vaginal, oral, or anal penetration.”
  • Pregnancy, diseases, and drug and alcohol abuse education would begin in middle school.

The committee admits that there is no implementation plan yet, and it would need to be discussed thoroughly as to “exactly how” the teaching will take place.

A lot of parents are okay with this. A lot of parents are definitely not.

I thought I would be the former.

I consider myself about as open minded as you can get. I personally taught my son to say the word penis- just like I taught him elbow, and knee. That’s what it’s called. It’s a fact.

I will also teach him that sometimes men love men, and women love women, because that is also a fact.

But do fifth graders really need to know the different areas of penetration? It’s a fact, but…

I.

Think.

Not.

This is the part where some very instinctual need to preserve the innocence kicks in. Where exactly is the line between being honest with our kids, and stealing their childhood?

This where Montana is confusing the shit out of me! I’ve always been FOR sex education. But do we really need to teach our kids HOW to have sex, before they’re even learning HOW to do algebra? It’s the timeline that I think needs to be seriously revamped.

ALGEBRA FIRST!

The majority of what is in this proposal strikes me as reasonable. Some of it is just too soon. Too soon. Too soon.

I remember getting the biggest thrill out of holding hands with a boy in fifth grade.

I don’t feel right about taking the thrill out of hand holding.

Mary Ann Dunwell said in the Helena Independent Record, ”This is about reality and truth so our kids don’t grow up in La-La Land, and have sufficient knowledge to make informed decisions.”

I agree. I’m all about knowledge, and making informed decisions. And growing up in “La-La Land” probably isn’t the best idea. But the question is when? Who decides when they actually grow up?

Before I actually had a child, I touted myself as one who would be forthright with my kid (knowing, of course, that my son would be a genius and it would be hard to pull one over on him). I also believed that I should have faith in my child- faith that he could handle the truth. I told myself that I would give him the credit he deserves.

But now that I actually am a parent, I don’t know when that time is supposed to come! Fifth grade seems so soon! When do I start having that kind of faith in him? When? Can’t I just protect him from the truth for now?

Because right now I’m all about Santa, and I can’t wait to be the tooth fairy.

When do we cross that line between “La-La Land” and grim reality? And how much of it should be put in the hands of the educational system?

I don’t know.

But I can tell you what I’m leaning towards…


Algebra

first.


MommyNaniBooboo is having an identity crisis.

I’ve registered a new domain name.

I’m set to move my online presence to a new site.

But I can’t seem to let go.

MommyNaniBooboo is who I am.

People know and love me here- on this website.

Why the hell did I want to change in the first place?

Well, I’ll tell you, Nosey Mc Noserstiens:

… it’s because of the word Mommy.

I started to feel like I was limiting myself to only writing about things pertaining to motherhood.  At first, that’s all I wanted to write about, because as a new mom, everything was hyper focused on my child, and becoming a SAHM.

But now that I’ve survived two years of motherhood- and liking the mother I’m becoming, I want to broaden my horizons. I have opinions, and copious amounts of snark, to be fired at all kinds of things: culture, politics, sex… etc. I want to “fire at will” wherever I choose to aim.

Or, want-ED to…  I don’t know now. I’m always going to be a mom. Aren’t I still going to write about being a mom.

“Can’t I write about whatever I want (anything, and all of the above) because it’s my freakin’ blog?”  Why yes, voice of reason, I can.  I just feel like I’ve pigeon holed myself, and the name of my site leads people to believe they are going to get one thing. Perhaps I’m setting my own limitations… or maybe I just want to “re-brand”.

…okay fine, it’s also because of the words Nani Booboo.

Most of my readers come to this site expecting a good laugh. Honestly, humor is my go to outlet, and I don’t think that will change much. But the pressure to be funny is killing me! I want the option to not be funny.

I don’t know people, I’m a writer- that’s what I do. I’m not a social media expert. I could be shooting a big hole in my foot by re-branding.

Blergh.

–  Whatever I decide, come along for the ride! Will I be uber-mom? Will I be funny?

Who knows? It’s like a choose your own adventure story- but I’m the only one who gets to do the choosing, so really, it’s more like just a story to you.

But it won’t be boring. I can promise you that.

* All comments, advice, etc., are welcome. I’ll be making a decision soon and want to know what you guys think. Tell me!

* Okay, so that kinda does make it like a choose your own adventure.