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sex in the suburbs

back to school 2015
Best o’ the Bitch, Humor, Parenting

Ask Bitch’in Suburbia: Back to School 2015

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Hey kids — it’s that time of year: More pencils, more books, and presumably more teachers’ dirty looks. But then again, who could blame them? In a world of Common Core, overly involved parents, undersized budgets, tests to teach to, and a lack of necessary tools (especially time and trust, not to mention those new fangled devices called computers), it’s impossible not to look at least a little pissed off.  Lucky for everyone, your friendly neighborhood Bitch’in Suburbia has the cheat sheet ready with all the snappy answers you need for your back to school questions. Just raise your hand and read on…

Dear Bitch’in Suburbia,

I have this recurring nightmare: I’m in a classroom, and the teacher hands out a test. Everyone around me dives right in, but I can’t read the words. Then the bell rings, and I’m still not done. I wake up every morning in a sweat, and I barely have the energy to get my kids off to school. What do you think it means? read more

ER
Best o’ the Bitch, Bitch’in Life, Parenting

Date Night Disaster

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It’s official: I’ve lost all confidence in date nights.

Before I give you the latest blow to the ever-popular, eagerly anticipated weekly(ish) ritual, let’s backtrack a minute and explore the evolution of the date night.

BC (forget before kids, I’m going all the way back to before commitment), there was no such thing as date night. There were nights, and some of those evenings had dates, and as I recall, those things ran the gamut from awkward and painful to hot and amazing.

The one thing that dates have going over date night is the element of surprise. Moments of mystery. And the best of them have an unanticipated happy ending (wink, wink, nudge, nudge, say no more).

Once you’re in a long-term relationship, date nights take on new meaning. Sure they’re a little forced, and of course the fact that you already know your date intimately saps some of the electric energy, but without the ritual, the chances of an awesome, albeit anticipated, happy ending decrease accordingly (wink, wink, nudge, nudge, etc.). read more

bring sexy back
Bitch’in Life

7 Ways to Bring Your Sexy Back

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The trouble started at the annual Victoria’s Secret post-holiday sale.

You might think that I was there to buy some sexy lingerie, a hot push-up bra, or perhaps a pair of crotch-questionable panties. To be honest, it actually was not that specific… just a feeling that I could use a little sprucing up in the new year.

While I did browse the butt-string and the sequined panties and the lacy nothings, in the end I decided that my long days of spinning the gerbil wheel would be more comfortable in some plain cotton undies, which not surprisingly wasn’t so much in the VS wheelhouse.

This was the first clue that I desperately need to bring sexy back.

The second indication is what I did walk out of Victoria’s Secret with: a super cuddly pair of flannel men’s pajamas.

When I modeled them for my husband, he said just this: “Luuuucy, I’m home!” And then he also muttered something about me being a “Mertz” just in case I didn’t catch the reference. read more

Best o’ the Bitch, Bitch’in Life

Double (Secret) Fantasy

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What’s your double secret fantasy?

Seriously, think a minute. Stop blushing, and consider something you’ve always longed for, but haven’t gotten or done yet.

That self-suppression, by the way, is so grown-up of you. Kids aren’t nearly as quick to censor themselves, nor are they in the habit of routinely denying themselves pleasure as we adults are so quick and willing to do. If they want to sing, they blast it out loud. If they desire an audience, they put endless videos of themselves on YouTube and pictures of themselves on Instagram, and tell all their friends to like/love/comment. They make plans to spend their spare time riding rollercoasters, decorating cupcakes, doing wild art projects, and/or playing games where they get to be the hero.

This is not to say that kids always live in la-la land. Under normal circumstances, mine work their butts off and have way more homework that demands complete focus and discipline than I ever remember. But give them three weeks vacation, and all bets are off. And all fantasies are ON. read more

Bitch’in Life

Date Night

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Remember that old nursery rhyme: you and me, sittin’ in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g; first comes love, then comes marriage, then comes baby in the baby carriage!

Did you ever notice that at no point is dating mentioned? The kissing part goes right to love and then it’s straight to mating and breeding. (That is, unless you’re Arnold Schwarzenegger, who reversed all those roles and juggled bits of the ritual of hooking up between everyone from his Kennedy bride to chicks he groped to his maid/baby mama to his she-bot co-star, and lived to tell the tale with seemingly no remorse in his new memoir, TOTAL DICKHEAD.)

In the same way that conjugal conjugation changes the passive noun “parent” into the very active verb “parenting,” it also changes the suggestive verb “dating” into the limp adjective/noun combo platter “date night.” Where a date is a big, juicy, promising question mark, date night is more a sad little period. The end stop to a week, so easy to miss, but without it, your life becomes one big, long run-on sentence of work, kids, chores, baggy t-shirts, and stained yoga pants. For all eternity. read more

Bitch’in Life, Pop Culture

Fifty Seconds of Grey: The Real Mommy Porn

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Fifty Shades of Grey has unleashed a genre of female-oriented lit that is guaranteed to bring us to our collective knees, dominating the media and our oh-so-fertile imaginations. So ladies, put down your sippy cups filled with chardonnay, your Cosmos, your True Blood vampire juice. Spark up your Kindles, set them to vibrate (oh, if only we could!), and prepare for… Mommy Porn.

From a zillion posts online to spots on the Today Show, features in huge media outlets like the LA Times, the New York Times and even a Entertainment Weekly cover story that touts the series as “the Shocking Best-Seller We Can’t Stop Talking About,”  E L James‘ soft-porn, S&M-filled Fifty Shades of Grey series has whipped the media into submission with its tale of 22-year-old Anastatia Steele’s kinky relationship with her 28-year-old dom, Christian Grey.

Although the characters are young, 40-something E L James’ readers are wearing their readers to read by the light of their Kindles: hence, the nom-de-Mommy-Porn. Like our own personal brown paper bags, e-readers make it possible for otherwise upstanding and responsible women to disguise our taste for whips, chains and things that go bump and grind between our yoga classes, carpool driving, and Little League games. read more