Monday, July 28, 2014

Fuck you. (reboot)


Good. You should be. I mean, those two words should offend you in some way or another.
What shouldn't offend is a picture of one of my kids, standing on the curb at a solstice parade, in bloomers and body paint.  What also shouldn't offend you is my child sitting on the top of a boat in a pair of bathing suit bottoms. At the beach. In the summer. In a swimsuit that I believe suitable for her age. I. Me. Her Mom.

THAT is what I think should NOT be offensive.

But here's the thing.

I get it. I get there are many, many sick and twisted people that get their rocks off looking at pictures of little kids. I get that kids get kidnapped. Raped. Killed. I am 38, thank you very much. I have lived on this sick fucking planet the whole time and last I checked there is NOTHING I can do about the twisted people that I share air with.

Here's the thing.

I can do something about this.

We ALL can.

We can all make this shit stop. We can put our proverbial feet down and say #freeyourmom206
and every other (mostly Mother's) accounts that are getting attacked. Hacked! Targeted! Taken down. Stomped on. Deleted!

I would love to blame someone. I would love that buttwipe to have to put his (it's totally a chick) name on the report so I can go take a look at his (her, lets be real) shit and make sure he (she) is following MY rules. Why not? Fair is fair, right?

Wrong, Jessika. You know better than that. Shit isn't fair. LIFE isn't fair and until recently I have always told my kids "life isn't fair". This is something I have wanted them to take with them through their lives, I wanted it to be instilled in them, I guess so that they would never have to be surprised or expect things to be fair.

Not anymore.

Those kids- same ones I am apparently breaking every social media rule with- are hearing a different tune from me. Their Mom, the one that has purposefully put them in harms way.
 I have not done that at ALL. IG should be thanking me. They should be thanking me for doing what I do. For being a self employed Mother of 3, using their stupid social media devise to help spread the word that life can be amazing. They are not. They are keeping me from it all. They are stopping me in my tracks. They are making me think "why do I use this stupid thing?" "why do I bother?".
I am not famous. No one cares about my pictures except for me BUT what people do care about is a Mother of 3 being taken advantage of by a platform that is used by millions.

Here's the thing.

There's porn on Instagram.
It's there. I have seen it.
It's not where I like to get my porn, it's not where I want my porn but I don't give a shit about what those people are doing or why.
I have a life. I am living it and my life is being socially shut down by some faceless coward and that oxygen thief is being BACKED by Instagram. They are letting those bitches get away with it all.

"They", "these people", "asshole", "scum", can go on Instagram and just decide they don't like my pictures. They can go "oh that's 'wrong'" and "I would never.." and they can "tell" IG that they don't like it, then IG decides it's cool to just take my shit down.

Here's the thing.


Spread the word. Send this to your boss. Your paper. Your news anchor.
Send this and any other blog, photo, story you have heard about this topic and MAYBE we can do something about this whole pile of shit we (mostly Mothers) are sitting in.

I have heard some chatter but to tell you the truth I don't think the nucleus is being fixed. I don't think the core of the problem is being looked at, I think they take a page down, hear some noise and put it up and that is it. It's like taking the gum out from under your coffee table and just hoping it'll never happen again. I want the gum, the table and the fucking hand that put it there to talk. I want this shit to be fixed for all of us.

And if my page gets taken down, you better go to #freeyourmom206 for a complete nude picture of me, cause I ain't goin' out like that.

Friday, July 11, 2014

Too much, too little.

I just spent the last week with my sister and her family. It was the first time they had come up here in over a decade. Just saying that makes me go "WOW!". It's been a long time.
We had a great week. The kids played, with her two and my three- we had it all covered. Games, art, movies, sleepovers, fire camps and lazy days at the beach. It was what every vacation should be but like every vacation it went by so fast.

It's funny when you spend time with someone. It doesn't matter who. When you spend a long enough time with anyone, especially when you share the same blood, you learn new things about yourself. And them.

It was like a psych experiment. I mean that in a good way. I am the type of person who is fascinated about life and personalities, for real. What makes people tick, what makes them quirky and fun. What makes them amazing. What makes them suck.

Spending this time with my sister was probably the most one on one time I have had with her since we lived together. I moved out of my Mother's house in 1994. No shit. It's been awhile.
She may have even moved out before that. So to say the very least, we needed it. We are sisters, we needed to spend time together, to get to know each other as adults, although I think no matter how old the little sister gets, she will always be seen as an annoying child. I get that a lot.

So the "experiment" left me thinking that I A. her kids are exactly like her and my kids are exactly like me. Our apples didn't even roll. They are sitting on the base of our roots.
And B. how did her and I, as "apples", come off of the same tree?
I still can't figure it out.

It's cool though, we are both good people. We both have great families and we are doing what we do. We are doing what makes us happy and we are living the lives that we have built, so there is no harm in one of us being the rogue apple. It was most likely me, it is just quite a trip to see it out in front of you. Like we are both hilarious, so we have that in common, but that is kinda it.

But I feel I enjoy the differences we have. Same with my friends and I and my husband. Him and I are not alike at all. People assume we are because we both can live out of a suitcase and we like to wear jeans and travel but the similarities diminish greatly from there. Like with my sister, I find it interesting how we can cohabitate for so long and yet be so differently.

A lot of people only find solace or interest in people like themselves- that in and of itself is a psych experiment, one I don't really get behind. You just don't learn enough being with someone who is just like you. I think with our children, hers like her and mine like me are that way so they can go out into the word and become themselves, so they don't count on the above statement.

What does count is this. I think a lot of people bring a burden to the scene when they come across someone different. They decide that they are better (or worse) worse than the other person! That is the worst! I think we all need to just realize that we are different for a reason, it is not for a cloak of "I'm better than you" it is not for a target on our backs. We are different because we are human and that is something we are lucky enough to be, when we are here.

Seeing my children and her children play and love each other, all the while being polar opposites gave me a lot of hope for the world and also made me wish we lived a whole lot closer.

RIP Banjo.