Well, it’s time to get back to blogging. I can attribute my lack of blogging lately to two key things:

1. A slight (okay, slightly more than slight) Facebook addiction
2. My stat counter. It shows what keywords get people here and last month, one pervert found me by searching keywords that I will not repeat here (don’t need more perverts ending up here). Go away, Sicko!!!

Let’s start with a little Sarah Palin, because I just can’t get enough of her. This one’s worth watching.



On a personal note, life has been colorful, eventful and downright violent this week. First, the brain surgeon had a near-fistfight with someone who wanted to discipline our 3-year-old son for hitting his daughter. I have to admire my beloved’s restraint in the situation. I wasn’t there, but from what all of the bystanders said, the man deserved to get slugged.

It did bring up the question: When is it appropriate to discipline someone else’s child? My gut answer to that question is “never!” but it also depends on how one defines “discipline.” I happen to be a very gentle parent (unless I’m getting my period…go away hideous hormones!) and strict parents would likely call me “permissive.”

But there is a method to my ways. I don’t believe in spanking or doing time-outs. Why? I don’t believe either are effective, nor do I believe such discipline tactics help children learn to negotiate their way around the social intricacies of the world. Rather, they foster feelings of shame and resentment.

In the aforementioned instance, this man attempted to grab my child and “discipline” him for hitting his child. I don’t believe he was intending to hurt my little boy physically, but I do believe he was going to chastise him and try to force a fake 3-year-old apology. For whatever reason, my children say “sorry” freely, despite a lack of traditional punishment and despite the fact that I don’t force them to apologize, so aggression as a means to that end was just ludicrous.

When violence occurs, I remove the child from the situation and we talk about using words and not fists (or teeth!) and we talk about how the other person would feel. We often discuss whether or not we think people will want to play with kids who use their bodies rather than words to express feelings. We take time together to calm down. Usually at this point, my children will volunteer to apologize, because, in reality, they are gentle souls who lost control of their emotions in the heat of the moment. When the heat dissipates, they feel sad about what they’ve done.

Sound familiar?

Yeah, to me, too.

To that man, I want to say: If grown men lose control of their emotions and almost get physical over my 3-year-old, I think it’s okay that my 3-year-old has not learned to control his emotions. He needs guidance, not punishment.

Luckily, I have a 6-year-old daughter who is ridiculously gentle now, despite also using her body to communicate when she was 3. It gives me confidence in our parenting choices despite the jerkface trying to do the job for us because he clearly thought wew were inept.

But on the violence and setting a good example note, I failed miserably yesterday. I punched someone in the face and split her lip open.

Yep. It’s true.

In one of the more surreal experiences of my human existence, I pulled behind a white Jeep SUV yesterday at the exit of a parking structure. There were no lines and a minimal wait. The driver of the SUV decided she was in the wrong lane and signaled for me to reverse, which I did. I then pulled into the next lane.

Apparently Jeep SUV lady didn’t like this, because she began screaming at me to move. I tried to back up again, but couldn’t, and she kept swearing at me and yelling to let her in front (by this time, we both could have easily gone). I calmly and inappropriately said, “I would if you weren’t being such a b***h.”

Well, turns out soccer mom #2 didn’t like soccer mom #1 (moi) calling her names, because she got out of her car (which I later found out had kids inside), walked around my car, reached in my front window, grabbed my ponytail and smacked me in the face.

So, I punched her in the mouth (thanks, cardio Thai boxing class!) and then somehow kicked her in the chest (I’m flexible, but did scrape my leg on the window). She walked away and called me the C word, and then kept yelling with blood covering her front teeth.

I honestly did not hit her that hard. It feels really weird that I made someone bleed.

The security guards and parking attendants at Hollywood and Highland were useless. They got on their walky talkies, but just observed her attack and called the police. They didn’t come help me during the attack. They wouldn’t let her out, however, and signaled to me to block her in, which I did until she reversed and threatened to hit my car with her car.

Then, psycho soccer mom reversed all the way through the parking lot to escape, but they caught her at the other gate.

Then it got complicated, because she claimed she just walked over to “talk” to me and that I randomly hit her. To make matters worse, she was swollen and bleeding and I was unmarked. Luckily, witnesses corroborated my story, but for a good while, I thought we were both going to jail. That would have been something to blog about!

In the end, I didn’t press battery charges. Her children would have ended up in custody, since her husband was out of town and she had no one to pick them up. She cried and said she was under a lot of stress and so on, and I figure that being held for two hours with fear of arrest likely taught her a road rage lesson.

Late last night, the brain surgeon and I were laughing about how comical the whole thing must have looked...Two soccer moms in t-shirts, leggings, tennis shoes and ponytails brawling through a minivan window.

Classic.