Archive for November, 2012


No More 50-Yard Lovin’

This post is intended for the menfolk; so fellas, I’m going to break this matter down into language that you might better understand. Sports.

In the game of football, each team’s objective is to move the ball all the way down the field. When done successfully, the team scores points. Game won. Easy, right? Not necessarily.

The game of football involves strategy and teamwork that must occur not only on the field but off the field as well.

In the locker room, players psyche each other up about the pending game and give the Do-it-for-Brian-Piccolo/Brian’s Song locker room speech that has the players motivated and hyped to perform their very best on the field.

Well, the same thing applies in the game of lovemaking.

You wouldn’t start and stop the game on the 50-yard line, would you? So, why do you think that the game starts and stops in the bedroom? This game begins in the teasing text messages and calls that are exchanged throughout the day. It moves down the field in the kitchen when you brush up against one another while making dinner. It’s played out with each passing glance and successful play of words.

But, this game, too, can be set back with unnecessary personal fouls like illegal contact (excessive grabbing), unsportsmanlike conduct (taunting), unnecessary roughness, or hands (or balls) to the face.

All I’m suggesting, fellas, is that you play the game of lovemaking like you couch coach the game of football every week. Hype your woman up in her mental locker room. Make passes throughout the game. Huddle (or cuddle) up to talk about what you plan to do. And, then sit back and watch how easily the ball(s) can move down the field.

And, after all of that is done, if you want to go and stand with arms wide open in the middle of the field T. Owens style, then knock yourself out.

Until then – Hut! Hut!


Arithmetic of a Lie

Why is it that kids lie for no apparent reason whatsoever?

I’m sitting here pondering this mind-boggling question, because I’ve noticed a trend lately with my 11-year old son. He is lying about the smallest, and silliest, of things.

Did you take a shower?


Why is the tub dry?

(Radio silence)


Mom, can I go outside?

Did you do your homework?


What is this blank worksheet?

(Blank stare)…Uh, homework.

I just don’t get it. While I know there is never a good reason to lie, I would almost accept a lie if it had some substance. Perhaps if he did something extremely bad and knew that I wouldn’t respond in a calm, civil manner, maybe – just maybe – I might understand that he lied to save his behind. But homework? Bathing? Come on!

I’ve tried talking to him about the importance of telling the truth and of how one “simple” lie can lead to a tangled web of deceit, but clearly he still doesn’t get it. So, I’m putting time outs (ha! I never did this) and rational discussions on the shelf. It’s time to break glass and implement extreme measures. “Tell the truth and shame the devil” has turned into “tell the truth or catch a beat down.”

It’s simple arithmetic. Small lie + Small lie = BIG LIES.

And, if I don’t nip this in the bud now, lies of bathing and homework can eventually morph into lies of economic plans, 5-minute marathons, tax cuts, etc. This has got to stop.



Candy Love

The other day I overheard one of my teenage sons on his cell phone whispering words of love. I didn’t panic. I simply switched into mommy-stealth mode, lingering nearby to discern the extent of this tomfoolery.

 As he nonchalantly slid his phone back into his pocket, I pounced.

 So, who is this you’re saying “I love you” to?

 Short response: A friend.

 Soooo….what kind of friend is this? A girlfriend?

 Yet another typically short teenage response: No.

 Soooo….why are you telling her “I love you”?

 Uhh (or perhaps he said duh!)…we always say that.

 And… cut! Conversation concluded.

 Perhaps I should have been content to have gotten that snippet of information out of him, because most times it feels as if the Jaws of Life are needed to pry information from these teenagers. However, days later my husband and I both remain confused and find ourselves muttering aloud what the heck is wrong with these kids?! Then we stumble into discussions like a bunch of ol’ timers about how we just didn’t do that back in the day.

 I mean, just when was love downgraded?

 Turn on the television and love (or some Hollywood version of it) is pouring out like cheap, boxed wine.  In a world that has become so desensitized to everything from A to Z, how do we teach our children to embrace the value of love when it’s being handed out as freely as candy?