All Natural Nazi

This post is something I just wrote for my Happy Mermaid Skin Care blog, but it was very Faux Ma like, so I decided to post it on here too. That naked pregnant woman is me, by the way.

I grew up in Connecticut in an Irish, middle-class household with my 3 siblings and Mom and Dad. We had a pretty average American lifestyle. Mom cooked her delicious meat and potatoes meals about 5 nights a week, Pasta and meatballs was for Sundays. We had weekly visits for lunch or snacks at Mcdonald’s, Wendy’s, Dunkin’ Donuts, and an awesome Northeast chain unhealthy restaurant called “Friendly’s” that I actually ended up working at for a while. I had pretty awesome co-workers there. Well, back to my story. My Mom stocked the house with lots of veggies, but she also stocked it full of sodas, cakes, cookies, meats, and nothing organic. I’m not trying to bitch slap my Mom or anything. (<—- Catholic guilt speaking) But we definitely weren’t impressing any health guru’s or personal trainers out there with our diet. We were all involved with tons of Sports. I think that was mainly because my Mom wanted to keep us out of her hair as much as possible. Don’t spank me, Mom (<—I was raised Catholic).

I played Soccer, Basketball, Field Hockey for a while, and I was on the Swim team. I loved sports, still do. I run and do bikram yoga like a good girl 4 x a week. Now I’m just bragging. Despite all of these athletics, I had a horrible body image from age 11 until I was 22 years old. I blame this on my bad diet. I did not realize that health food existed growing up. All I knew was that I heard supermodels hardly ate anything, and if they did eat, they’d throw it up. So that is what I did. I ate all the delicious, unhealthy food my Mom and my school cafeteria served me, and I would vomit it all up. So I got skinny. It seemed like the skinnier I got, the more guys asked me out and noticed me. So that just reinforced to me that I was doing the right thing. Because life is all about sexual attraction, right? Then one day when I was 17, I threw up blood and passed out next to the toilet for a while. My Mom didn’t know. She thought I was in the bath. I freaked myself out so bad about this, I decided to tell her about my Bulimia. She knew about it, because she had caught me before, but I really made her KNOW about it this time. I demanded she get me some help, because rich little white girls have the luxury of making those demands, you know.

So my loving and concerned parents got me a shrink and a nutritionist, but they weren’t much of a help at all. So through my frustration about how crappy this “professional” help was, I stumbled upon a Natural Living book at a hippie bookstore. That was the beginning of my enlightenment about how to treat this ol’ body of mine. Everything was so simply stated, easy to learn and obvious. The same “your body is a temple” concept. It spelled out very plainly that meat and dairy product consumption was not intended for Human beings. I began realizing that the reason I felt the need to throw up was because of my binge eating of heavy, unnatural and unhealthy foods. I mean, I never threw up a salad before because that is healthy. I know the meat/dairy thing is a controversial topic, but whatever, I believed in it and still do. So I became a vegetarian. It was hard to avoid eating my Mom’s delicious meals, but luckily I was an angsty teenager, so this kind of felt like a bitchy rebellion I was going through. Plus it gave me tons of attention when people would ask me why I was the only person at the table eating a salad, and I’ve always loved attention. Being healthy made me feel strong, proud, vibrant, beautiful, glowing…but I’ve always had a great love for drinking alcohol. My books encouraging giving that up, but I am not ready to do that. Not sure I ever will be, being Irish and all.

So you may be saying to yourself, “When is this goddamn ho going to mention anything about all natural skin care?!”. I hear ya. I was wondering that myself while I’ve been typing this. A smart person would erase everything, start from scratch, and condense this post to be a more specific and appealing one-two paragraph piece on my skin care journey only. Oh well. Not going to do that.

I met my Husband in 2004 and he is a big old all natural living junkie. He made my lifestyle look so unhealthy and horrible compared to his super strict diet. Since I am super competitive, I couldn’t have him looking more healthy than me, so I read all of his crunchy granola hippie books and copied his lifestyle habits (well, besides masturbating to porn for hours) so that I could be just like him, a pretentious healthy vegetarian. I still eat meat occasionally in moderation, but for the most part I am a vegetarian. We have been happily living as annoying health freaks for our entire 7 1/2 years of marriage. Except for the beauty products I used, those were all generic up until 2009.

In 2008 I got pregnant with our first child, and that is when I got into the all natural world of skincare and cosmetics. Being pregnant does that to a lot of women. You get really worried about what is going in and on your body. And even more worried about what is going on your baby. We were so poor, but I required we only use the very expensive all natural baby soap, lotions, diapers, diaper wipes, clothing, etc.  I have let up a bit about that with the clothing, but not in terms of the skin care items. All of my research shows that what you put on your skin is just as important as what you put in your mouth, so I decided to become as much of a nazi about skincare as I’ve been about food.

With the discovery of my second pregnancy last November, I decided to turn my new passion for natural skin care into a business by creating my very own line of all natural skincare products because I had problems with the consistency, texture, scent, ingredients, quality, safety level and abrasiveness of a lot of products I’ve tried. I named the business “Happy Mermaid” skincare because I love mermaids, I’m a jolly person, and the whole idea of mermaids seems to convey the cleanliness of the all natural market, and the timeless beauty and moisture I am looking to bring to people’s skin and hair through my products.

Thanks for reading, and I’d love for you to keep checking my blog for updates on my Company’s progress. Feel free to comment or message me any ideas for products, questions, hell…even hate mail if you want. Click here: to go to Happy Mermaid Skincare


Milkshake Mafia

I got hired as a server in a new hip sushi restaurant in August 2010, and I had a pretty cool Manager. He was funny, cocky and kind of dumb and dorky. My favorite type of Manager, basically. We got along great. He took me aside often to tell me how I was his favorite. Then I would catch him say that to other chicks and I’d break his balls about it. On my drives to work, I was really excited for the banter we shared back and forth and I got pretty annoyed if he wasn’t working the same shift as me. My Husband loved hearing stories about him when I got off work. It was like a dream job, except the money was horrifyingly bad because they overstaffed the shit out of the place and did zero marketing, so it was actually a horrible job, but my funny manager took the edge off all that. The staff was awesome too. Just a bunch of fun drunks with lots of charm and charisma. I really enjoyed working there.

I got pregnant in November of 2010, and told everyone there about it in December and things were still the same, but now I got more snacks and more loving remarks. I couldn’t drink with anyone anymore though, but I still felt like a big part of the team. But around April of 2011, my awesome Manager started getting weird. He was uncomfortable with my bulging belly. He talked down to my baby bump every day. He would get grossed out if he heard me discuss ultrasounds, and he shook his head at my bump telling me to cover it up more and to wear looser clothing. I thought it was funny and psychotic at first, and I would just make jokes to him about how he should discuss his mommy issues at his next therapist appointment. But it got unfunny fast when he began cutting my tables down from 10 table sections to 4 table sections suddenly. Now he was fucking with my money. He claimed that my performance started suffering since my belly had gotten bigger. I asked for examples of how my performance suffered and he said I didn’t refill ice teas fast enough on one table during a busy lunch, which was true, but not worthy of that kind of penalty. The crazy part about this is, when I started there, I fucked up so much every shift, and I NEVER got in trouble. I split checks when I shouldn’t have, I ordered the wrong shit for people, I even left trays on tables before, I could barely open a bottle of wine at the beginning, and he laughed it off for months and months. I felt like I was getting favoritism when I was not with child, and screwed after I got pregnant, because by April, I knew for a fact that I was a pretty decent server, mainly because my tips started getting incredibly better and I started getting requested as a server more frequently. It was obvious this had to do with my belly. It was a pretty hip restaurant, so all I can guess is that he didn’t like the way a pregnant woman looked serving martnini’s on his floor at night. I kinda get that, but oh well, its against the law to fire someone for that.

So I feel like he decided to push me out by fucking with my sections and badgering me so much during shifts that I would just quit. When I came into work and saw that I had 3 tables in the worst section during a lunch in June, I fucking flipped the mother fucking fuck out. Mind you, I was 8 months pregnant at this point. I tried to confront him about it before the shift began, but he was hiding in his office with the door closed. So I worked the shift, and like I thought, the other skinny, young chicks I worked with made over $100 and I left with TWENTY FIVE MOTHER FUCKING DOLLARS SUCK MY CUNT YOU DICK I’M PREGNANT AND I WILL KILL YOU AND BURN DOWN YOUR HOUSE AND BREAK YOUR CAR WINDSHIELD MOTHER FUCKER. When he finally decided to stop hiding like a little bitch, I let him know that I was extremely pissed the fuck off, and that we needed to have a meeting. So he made me stay and cut the other two girls. So basically, the closer, ME, had to stay until 4:30pm and leave with $25 while the other girls got to leave at 2:30pm with $100+. That’s fair…NO.

So I left it at, I am pretty sure I am quitting, but I need cash, so I think I’m going to think this over tonight after I calm down and get back to you tomorrow. He was like, “Cool, see you tomorrow.” I left crying and my coworkers (especially the male coworkers) were very sweet and told me how much they hate to see me getting screwed over like that. God I miss those people, good, good people. So anyways, when I got out to my Husband’s car, he saw me crying. He asked what happened with the talk. He got insanely angry that my Manager did not apologize to me, and had a pregnant woman on her feet all day for $25 rather than cut me first if he was going to take my tables away like that. I noticed an XL milkshake in the car while Nathan was fuming mad. Before I got to ask why there was a milkshake here when we don’t drink milkshakes, he grabbed it, ran out of the car, and stormed into the restaurant. I felt in utter shock. I watched the horror that ensued through the windows. This sushi place is all windows, so you can see everything. I saw my Managers walking towards him, and Nathan threw the milkshake as hard as he could on the ground making it splatter all over the floor, hostess stand, part of the bar, and on one customer. I covered my mouth while screaming watching this happening. I started having serious contractions and thought I was going to give birth right there in our shitty 1990 Ford Festiva. I felt like I just saw him murder someone. You have to understand, as much of an asshole as I can be, I have this thing about jobs. My goal at every job I have ever had was to be the most prized employee, and to leave with a great recommendation. My parents raised me to be super polite to Authority, so I always have been, well only when I am getting paid by said authority figure.

When Nathan got back into the car, I told him to drive away as fast as he could and I proceeded to hyperventilate. I should have been laughing, but I was just so worried about money, future jobs, recommendations, etc. After I calmed down, I realized it was totally deserved by this Manager to experience some sort of lashing out, because I wasn’t the only person he screwed over royally. Nathan ran into a few of my old co-workers at bars and they shook his hand for doing that. Which was comforting, to know that people understood his rage.

Five months later today, I have a beautiful baby girl that joined our family and was born in a hospital and not in our Festiva on that horrible day. I have a Husband who I now know will do almost anything to defend me. And I still have the respect of the Assistant manager at the sushi place who I just used for a recommendation, which helped to get me a new job last week. I feel like I had a messy break up with that manager, and it is sad, but life goes on and I learned from it that you really don’t know people until you see all of their sides and colors. I already knew that, but this incident just made it that much clearer to me.

Roller Coasters Are Only Fun At The Park

The changes that have been going on in my body, my mind, my emotions, and my hormones in the past 3 years is incredible.  Your body goes through so much when you are pregnant, and it seems as if it never ends when you breastfeed.  I went from being pregnant to nursing my son for a year and  a half, to becoming pregnant again and now nursing again with no breaks.  I am not complaining, I love all of it.  Well, yeah, I am complaining, but I love being a Mom, and I think it is awesome and fascinating to be a walking, talking beverage that is keeping a baby alive.  It is still kinda insane to think about how much a woman’s body can go through, and its no wonder so many Moms go fucking crazy after they pop out a few kids.  I am fairly certain I would have been a much less bearable person to be around the past few months if it wasn’t for this blog, and twitter to pour out all my thoughts into.  I am SHOCKED my husband didn’t leave me because of how I acted at times.  I was a horrid, horrid woman.

Sexual changes can be good and bad.  Like, when I was pregnant, my orgasms were so insanely strong that it made sex better than it has ever been.  My nipples were way too sensitive though, it just hurt to get them touched.  But then, after the birth, and when you start wanting to have sex again, you have the extremely sucky experience of the first few orgasms postpartum.  They are so lackluster, they cannot even compare to the giant pregnant lady orgasms, it is enough to make you cry for days.  All the pressure and fluids from the baby pressing down on your vag, cause all the blood to kind of pool down there, so your body is pretty much ready to go for sex 24/7.  My clit was permanently aroused for the entire last trimester.  It was distracting, and sometimes felt so good it hurt.  I miss it so bad, but one must move on despite these painful circumstances.  Pregnancy orgasms vs. postpartum orgasms is a lot like the difference between ecstasy sex vs. sober sex. Or like diet coke to diet pepsi.  Or Mcdonald’s croutons to Outback steakhouse croutons.  Or Natural Ice to Blue Moon.  Or $4 bottle of wine to a $100 bottle of wine.  Can you tell I could do this for days?  You get the point.  It just can’t compare, and you are stuck with it. You have to make the most of it.  Eventually you get used to it, and start appreciating it for what it is.

I just started getting to that point postpartum where I feel like the old me, I feel good about my body,  I enjoy and want sex, I am having fun with my husband again all the time, and my kids aren’t overwhelming me to the point that I have to run in the backyard and scream.  I finally feel relaxed.  It is so nice to get over that hump.  I think the entire 9 months of pregnancy have nothing on the first 3 months postpartum in terms of difficulty and pain.  Jesus.  I am getting chills just thinking about what a nightmare it was.  Seriously, a total nightmare.  You have this beautiful new baby, but all you wanna do is cry, plan your escape to Mexico, and contemplate starting an addiction to heroin.  I am very proud of myself for turning to comedy during this phase, because laughing is really the only effective way I have found to handling bullshit.

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