Archive for July 2010

July 29, 2010, AND SOME WISDOM FROM GENERATIONS PAST

Posted by Eden M. Kennedy on Jul 29, 2010 at 4:23 pm in News, Unwanted Advice

This week we are pleased to introduce a guest columnist, Mrs. Robert G. Wrightson. We found Mrs. Wrightson, 99, gathering dust in a mid-level Kansas City nursing home. Her loving family may or may not have abandoned her, we’re not actually sure what the story is there. However it happened, her folksy wisdom might have been lost forever had we not cleared the cobwebs from between her ears and siphoned out the vast experience in marriage and child-rearing she had gathered over the past century. Mrs. Wrightson outlived four husbands and was the mother of three strapping boys and twin girls who grew up to be successful atheists. Mrs. Wrightson never regretted the fact that her children never met their father(s), even though they were all pediatricians and might have helped the children avoid rickets.

Click here to marvel at Mrs. Wrightson’s timeless — and timely! — advice.

July 20, 2010: Continuing Our Summer of Blame

Posted by Alice on Jul 20, 2010 at 1:23 pm in Uncategorized

What does blaming your mom have to do with parenting? It’s all about HEALING, friends. And you can’t heal until you’ve identified the wound, which in this case is a psychic wound, and also your MOM did it.

Stop telling us you have such a great relationship with your mom. You’re in denial!

By not appropriately fretting over each and every tiny detail of your gestation, your mother has ruined your dreams of becoming a figure skater. Or she made it so you had terrible acne in eighth grade, when no one would invite you to the junior-high dance. Don’t ask us specifically how her actions led to these cataclysmic events. They just did! Shut up!

Read our scientific table for more overly specific examples of ways your mom could have messed with your future.

July 9, 2010: THAT LONG WEEK BETWEEN INDEPENDENCE AND BASTILLE DAYS

It’s hot, and we’re in the mood to blame people for things. Fortunately we heard from a reader this week, who detailed for us all the ways in which her mom’s gestational habits screwed her up. Which got us thinking: how did our mothers ruin our lives? Probably in more ways than we could count. We probably would have gone to real-doctor school, if they had laid off the gin in that last trimester.
Of course it’s unproductive to blame our mothers for what they may or may not have smoked while we were helplessly floating in their poisoned amniotic fluids, but summer’s all about being unproductive, are we right? So next week we’ll take an in-depth look at how your mother’s pre-parental misbehavior has forever altered the course of your life. We would have done it this week, but we were too busy sweating. Anyway, we need to read some stuff, and also talk to your moms. Which is more difficult than you’d think. What’s up with the all-caps emails, ladies? And why are you faxing your replies?
Until then, read this young lady’s sad tale, and weep. Not too much, though–you don’t want to dehydrate yourself.

It’s hot, and we’re in the mood to blame people for things. Fortunately we heard from a reader this week, who detailed for us all the ways in which her mom’s gestational habits screwed her up. Which got us thinking: how did our mothers ruin our lives? Probably in more ways than we could count. We probably would have gone to real-doctor school, if they had laid off the gin in that last trimester.

Of course it’s unproductive to blame our mothers for what they may or may not have smoked while we were helplessly floating in their poisoned amniotic fluids, but summer’s all about being unproductive, are we right? So next week we’ll take an in-depth look at how your mother’s pre-parental misbehavior has forever altered the course of your life. We would have done it this week, but we were too busy sweating. Anyway, we need to read some stuff, and also talk to your moms. Which is more difficult than you’d think. What’s up with the all-caps emails, ladies? And why are you faxing your replies?

Until then, read this young lady’s sad tale, and weep. Not too much, though–you don’t want to dehydrate yourself.