Skip to main content

The Manifesto of the Mom with a Son.

Out in public, I can spot them immediately. In the ER, the moment they are in the door, I can diagnose them. There they are, 20-40 something female, doughy, curled on the gurney like they need their last rites read. Probably clad in sunglasses. Some deer-in-headlights male in the seat beside them, probably rubbing their back. She looks up at the male, and says, "You're not doing it right." She tells me "I'm allergic to everything except Dilaudid. I have a history of chronic back pain, fibromyalgia, degenerative disk disease, depression, anxiety, polycystic ovary disease, chronic abdominal pain, nine c-sections, intractable vomiting, migraines, scoliosis, halitosis, mononucleosis and I might have tuberculosis. I've had a cough for three years."

 This woman probably has some serious issues or was NEVER EVER EVER told NO as a child. She was taught the world revolves around her, that everything should fall in line with whatever makes her happy at the moment, which is subject to change on a whim and expected to be adapted to. Taught that males are evil and not to be trusted and that she is to reign and rule in every area of her life. CELEBRATE FEMINISM!!

Then reality sets in.

She realizes that she doesn't have special privilege in the grand scheme of things. She doesn't deal with this well and becomes a manipulative Crazy with numerous vague illnesses and unfortunately runs around with an undiagnosed personality disorder. She, therefore, seeks out a male that will bow to her, and not in the unconditional love way, but he is forced, emotionally abused and manipulated into submission to keep her tiny little environment running exactly as she wishes.
Which means it will be a hot mess.
This unsuspecting male will cater to her until he's nothing but a burned-out, henpecked shell of long ago surrendered masculinity.
She's got an unearned superiority complex; ie: just because she engaged in a roll in the hay and later brought forth a human, no differently than the rest of we vagina carrying members have, she is entitled to special privilege.


And I see her Every. Single. Day. in my line of work. Granted I KNOW there's plenty of deadbeat men out there. But it should also be looked at by how many of them were FORCED OUT and wronged by this kind of woman. Men can be awful, yes. We as women can make some really stupid STUPID decisions in picking mates, but we also have the ability to singlehandedly destroy the psyche of unsuspecting good men. "Feminine wiles" are not just an old wives tale. We as a gender are master manipulators and have to soul search to keep that in check. My issue is of concern for my son's future. He just turned 12 and I fear him getting sucked into the trap of a woman or a girl like this. A girl who will shred the carefully constructed confidence and the tender heart of this boy who deserves every good thing, including a future wife that will respect his masculinity, recognize the fragility of the male heart and serve him as he serves her.

All we hear about or see are "Rules for Dating My Daughter", or memes of fathers holding shotguns.

Today, it's not the stereotypically ravenous boys we need to watch out for.

Girls are aggressive. They're inflated with self-importance. The "self-esteem" movement has spilled over into a superiority complex. The music they partake in perpetuates it. I recently heard the new Britney Spears song, "Pretty Girls". It is, in simplicity, about using pretty looks to own and or destroy males.

You can betcha', wherever the girls go, boys follow. We be keeping them up on their toes, They can laugh, but they don't get the jokes. Just you watch, they're so predictable! All around the world, pretty girls. Wipe the floor with all the boys, Pour the drinks, bring the noise. We're just so pretty! All around the world, pretty girls. Jump the line, to the front, Do what we like, get what we want. 
We're just so pretty!

What have we done to our boys? The rough-and-tumble, sports loving, dirty fingernailed, stinky, sweaty, messy-room ones, the ones that don't have a care in the world far longer than their female counterparts. I have daughters, and I believe in teaching mutual respect. My son is taught not to hit girls (or people in general), but shouldn't girls be held equally accountable? Boys become physically stronger, girls become emotional experts. We as parents should be purposeful in our calling out of emotional manipulation and abuse by girls before they become destructive women. To teach them the reality of how impactful and distracting they can be when they choose to exploit their physical attributes to gain attention. They should be taught the differences of perception, how boys and men are much more sensitive to visual stimuli and if they REALLY wanted to be taken seriously and not seen as objects, then STOP PUTTING IT OUT THERE.

We need to be teaching them what true femininity, not distorted feminism, is.

So I'M WATCHING THE FUTURE GIRLS IN MY SON'S LIFE LIKE A HAWK. It's unfortunate for the ones that will be these type of girls and future women. They'll be subject to my skeptical eye. Mama sees all. And Mama has rules.


Rule One: My son is not a toy to be manipulated, abused, discarded or mistreated. I cannot explain the hellfire you will be subject to should you decide to engage in this behavior because you have unresolved issues. If you do, you are NOT the right girl for him, and you will be informed in advance of a serious relationship developing. In other words, "Out my house!"

Rule Two: You will not lie to me. I may be approximately 40 and have some worn tread on my tires, but I am a master at reading manipulators. As a side note, I enjoy target practice, lifting weights and boxing. You will have one chance to tell the truth. If I ask you what you're doing, where you're going, ONE CHANCE. Do not try me. I'll be waiting at the front door for your inaugural arrival.

Rule Three: Do NOT be the one to coerce my son into sexual activity. If you do, you will be subjected to an hour long class on the perils of STD's, complete with graphic slideshow of every abscess, discharge, boil, chancre, growth and foulness I can dredge up. And a glimpse as to what hell will be like for you, Jezebel. Whenever you're around him, you will be subject to the "pinch a penny" rule. That penny stays pinched between your knees, or all bets are off and you're crying mascara rivulets all the way home. And if he says...


Rule Four: If you speak foul language to him or send him photos of any pictures of ANYTHING OTHER THAN YOUR FACE, you are banned. Get vulgar, get booted. And I will forward any and all photographs of you to your father or whatever stand-in is in your life. Good luck in your career on the pole.

Rule Five: My son has been raised to never hit a female. Do. Not. Hit. Him. If this occurs, clearly you are granting permission for his Mom to take matters into her own hands.

Rule Six: You are to date ONLY HIM, if you sign this contract after rigorous inspection. He is very soft hearted, so I would advise you, do NOT make him cry.

Rule Seven: Do NOT make him feel bad for loving sports. Our family is a sports family. This is how he and I have bonded through the years and how we communicate and spend time together. If you don't know about it, LEARN ABOUT IT. Don't expect him to give up what he loves because you're whiny and want to control him.

Rule Eight: Know how to cook. My son knows how to cook and he's not going to do it all the time. If your mother didn't teach you how to do more than load a microwave, this is not my problem. Go seek the boy who doesn't know any better.

Rule Nine: Until there is a ring on my son's finger, his nuclear family comes first. He may WANT to spend time with you, but I'm raising a boy to become a family man (you should thank me NOW) and he will be taught appropriate priorities. Family events trump make out nights on your parent's couch.

Rule Ten: You will not date him for what you can get from him. He may treat on the first date because he is taught to be a gentleman, but you will be expected to contribute. You want feminism, you've got it sister.

This is a binding contract. Should you agree with all of the above terms and be found acceptable under these conditions,  please sign, date, and submit to blood tests, an STD panel and confirmation of implanted birth control. Thank you for your interest in my son. We may be in contact.

Popular posts from this blog

On Mommin'

It's so funny as you get older, as you become more introspective and are able to see pieces of your parents in your personality, your way of life, how you parent your own children. Sometimes, you're like "OH MY GOD I HAVE TO CHANGE THAT" and others, you think: I totally got that from my Mom. 
                                                            Mom and I, circa 1982-ish

I see it replicated in the next generation right before my eyes. My daughter not only has my face, but is my personality through and through. But where did MINE come from? Well, primarily I believe my personality traits come from my Dad. Like being a smartass, needing to figure EVERYTHING out (he is in law enforcement, I'm from the emergency room) and being an introvert (but extroverted when social situations call for it. Like being a sheriff).

But what came from Mom? When I really think about it, it's a lot of the things I love about myself (and yes it's good for the soul to love y…

A Fly On My Wall!

Welcome to a Fly on the Wall group post. Today 9 bloggers are inviting you to catch a glimpse of what you’d see if you were a fly on the wall in our homes. Come on in and buzz around my house.

Buzz around, see what you think, then click on these links for a peek into some other homes:
Baking In A Tornado         Menopausal Mother            Searching for Sanity        Spatulas on Parade           Never Ever Give Up Hope          Bookworm in the Kitchen       TaylorLife           Cynful Thoughts             Evil Joy Speaks              

My son is 14. Yet somehow it comes as a complete surprise to him EVERY MORNING that he has t…

That One Time I Met That Guy

"All I knew this morning when I woke
Is I know something now, know something now I didn't before
And all I've seen since 18 hours ago is green eyes and freckles and your smile
In the back of my mind making me feel like....
I just want to know you better
Know you better, know you better now" --Taylor Swift

Four years ago today I woke up, changed.
The day before, I'd gone on the last first date of my life, and I just KNEW. 

I just knew. 

It may seem silly to celebrate the anniversary of a first date, but for us, it meant more than usual.
We'd been battered and bruised by people who never deserved us. 
We'd taken a chance with online dating and were both just about to cancel our accounts when my picture caught this gentleman's eye. 
He sent over the obligatory questions.
I answered.
He emailed.
I answered. 
He called..
I talked.
And talked and talked and talked. 
For the next month, we talked. I liked him "a really lot" I like to say, and I hadn't even met hi…