Hi Aunt Becky!

I have kind of an awkward question. I went to hook up with my ex-boyfriend the other day (I know, bad idea to begin with) and he wanted to do something I didn’t want to do. Long story short, we argued, I insulted him, and he hit me — pretty hard. Then he apologized and I ended up having sex with him again.

I’m feeling really guilty about this, because I feel like I violated my sexual integrity and my rights as a woman, especially since I ended up doing what I didn’t want to do in the first place. I feel like a huge idiot, too.

My question is, was this my fault? I mean, I did insult him, so I guess it’s my fault for making him lose control. He kept screaming at me afterward, look what you made me do, and I guess I DID make him do it. But did I deserve to be hit? And am I a poor excuse for a woman, since I allowed him to touch me after that?

Thanks!

First, sweetheart, let me tell you that you’re not alone. I’m willing to bet that there are probably a hundred people reading this and nodding their heads saying “I’ve compromised myself before, too.” It’s a horrible, awful feeling when you’ve not been true to yourself, and it’s humiliating to know that you’ve done something that you didn’t want to do voluntarily.

You have to forgive yourself. It’s okay. We all make mistakes. We all do.

It may take awhile to forgive yourself (Lord knows, it took me years), but you can and you will. I know that you’ll look back on this as a momentary lapse in reason and never compromise who YOU are for someone else ever again.

I know that I never did. That’s how I know you won’t, either.

It’s an important lesson, I think, to learn to be true to yourself, and it’s not always something you can learn from a fortune cookie. I’m such a numb-nuts that I had to tattoo it on my foot* to remind myself of that one. It worked, though. I’ve never compromised myself for someone else again.

And you are NOT to blame for your ex hitting you. There’s no way you can possibly be responsible for someone else’s actions–even if you did provoke him–and no matter what he says, it’s his fault. Period. There’s no wiggle room on that one. He’s the one who was in the wrong, not you. End. Of. The. Fucking. Story.

You’re not a poor excuse for a woman–far from it. You had a minor error in judgment, which I’m sure all of us have had at one point or another, and I’m willing to bet that you’ll never do it. If you learned something from it, especially something as important as never compromising yourself for someone else ever again, well, it wasn’t all bad.

You deserve more than all of this (I’m looking at ALL OF YOU when I say this, Pranksters). Don’t ever sell yourself short, and don’t ever let anyone else sell you short either because that’s fucking bullshit. If they have issue with that, well, send ’em to Your Aunt Becky. She knows you deserve better.

Love you, girl.

*seriously.

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Normally, I post a couple of questions on Go Ask Aunt Becky Days, but today, I think that maybe we can just rally around my anonymous friend here. Maybe you guys could give her some love, too. I’m willing to bet that she’ll be reading your comments and it sounds like she could use some lovin’ or advice.

It seems that it gets worse every year, and this year it was the worst yet. About December 15th, I started fantasizing about screaming in the streets “I F-ing hate Christmas!” (I actually thought about saying “F-ing.” That is how repressed I am–I censor even my fantasies.)

Between my mom and her “since you dad left, I have no one” and my sister and her “how can we make sure everyone is happy and never left out?” and my dad’s “when can I stop by for half an hour and drop off presents?” the ol’ Christmas spirit ends up nowhere near me. Finally it all came to a head at Christmas. My mom and husband got into a very short argument, he announced that we were leaving, I cried for two days straight, he sent my mom an email trying to explain why he’d been upset then and how he’s been feeling slighted for years.

You also have a family (parents, siblings) and in-laws and a desire to create memories and traditions for your kids. Any advice? My mom forwarded the email to my sister, which I don’t appreciate, but she responded by emailing everyone in the family and suggesting that we start a conversation, which I do. I just feel like no matter what I say–or to whom–I’m going to end up breaking what was already a very fragile dynamic between my husband and my family.

This is crazy long, and feel free to edit. I’m trying not to be one-sided or too complainy, but I’m just so worried that not only am I never going to have this close relationship between my husband and family (which my brother-in-law seems to enjoy), but they’re not even going to tolerate one another, which leaves me feeling like I have to choose one.

Ah, The Holidays, where Your Aunt Becky likes to imagine that she really enjoys drinking or perhaps medicating herself heavily to get through them (side note: I do not)(sadly).

I don’t think you’re being one-sided in wanting to have some sort of traditions of your own at all because you’re an adult, and that’s kind of what adults do: they branch out on their own and start their own. Or, in the case of others, they do not.

This is where you are at an impasse, my friend. You must decide what is important to you. Not to your mom or your dad or your sisters or your brother or Aunt Sally down the block. (Because we have so much family that has to celebrate holidays at odd random times throughout the season, we’ll end up dragging Christmas out for 4 months if we’re not careful, so believe me when I say that I know this from experience)

But it’s your turn to decide what you want. You get to make the call.

Sure, you may piss some people off along the way, because everyone wants you for something because OBVIOUSLY, but this is where it ends: you cannot kill yourself over the holidays.

Or, if you decide that that’s how you want to play it, and you’re going to cater to everyone else, then you have to just accept that the holidays really aren’t about you anymore. Then you can set aside your own feelings and just accept that the holidays are fucking stressful. Plenty of people do it that way and manage just fine.

In the Sausage Factory, we simply say “no” to the things we’re not going to do. It’s not fair to my kids to drag them to every-fucking-thing that we’re invited to just because we’re invited and we feel like we should. My family, my children, well, we matter too. I’m not guilty or sorry about that. And if other people have a problem, well, they can come over and deal with the post-Holiday Meltdown while I go home to their quiet house.

Don’t feel guilty about standing up for yourself, okay? You matter too.

Aunt Becky,

I need your help.  We all – except for the receptionist – have nice offices where I work.  For over a year now, she comes in my office every day for lunch and sits at my meeting table eating and reading.  At first I thought it was cute, but now its just annoying.  What if I need to call my doc about a raging case of vag herpies? What if I’m interviewing for a new job?  I’ve tried closing my door at 11:50 – she just comes in anyway.  Help!

Hungry for Silence

I am BEYOND sympathetic for your plight, my friend, because I cannot even work on my computer with someone standing near me (and believe me that I’m using the term “work” veeerrry loosely here) so I cannot imagine how annoying it’s got to be to have someone with you during your one period of solitude.

I’m sure that she, on the other hand, sees no reason that this would be any sort of intrusion, the same way people who kiss hello on the cheeks don’t find that to be off-putting to those of us who do not. Clearly, if she’s not getting the “door shut” thing, she’s not going to get any other sort of subtle gesture and obviously you don’t want to hurt her feelings.

So, can you put her in a conference room saying that you need to make some “personal calls” a couple of times a week? Certainly, it’s not like HONEST or anything, but you don’t want to make it all weirdness at work and you can’t exactly be all “here, sweetie!! Let’s go sit it SUSAN’S office today!!!” Because she’s not a toddler. (I’m assuming.)

Or, you could start trying to sell her every sort of Avon, Mary Kay, Pampered Chef, Candlight Party, Sex Toy Party thing, Ginsu knives imaginable. That normally works like a charm to get people the hell away from you.

OR, better yet, you could start polishing your knife collection during your lunch break and pretend to be a serial killer. Then she’d leave YOU the hell alone.

OR, you could pretend to have just married a pillow.

BETTER YET, I’ll open up the floor to my faithful Pranksters who will probably have much better ideas than I do because my next course of action was to suggest filling her car with balloons. CLEARLY I am the unbalanced one.

As always, submit your questions to Go Ask Aunt Becky on the sidebar, yo, and fill in ANYWHERE I left off. Please, Pranksters, HELP THESE PEOPLE.

Dear Aunt Becky,

After your piece on Meat and Mushrooms… why do they call a beaver a “beaver”? Is it a “piece of tail”? Will it “chew your wood off”? I’m trying to put together a “dam” reference but failing.

I’ve asked nearly every straight man I know and you may finally be the source of enlightenment.

XOXO,

JohnOCinJP

The first time, Gentle Reader, that I heard a vagina referred to as a “beaver” was in the Primus song “Wynona’s Big Brown Beaver.” Probably because I was 14 when the song came out and hadn’t developed QUITE the repository of awesome slang terms for vagina that you see before you today.

Now, I believe what a beaver refers to is a hairy vagina. I googled the term to be sure and pretty much all I could come up with was a bunch of people going, “why the fuck do people call the vagina a beaver?” and everyone else responding with “I have no fucking clue.” (aside, Internet, do you know?)

So yes. A beaver = a full bush = a hairy vagina = a PIZZA slice vag.

You’re so welcome for that image.

I saw this, Aunt Becky, and I thought of you!  Would you ever consider getting “vajazzled”?

www.momlogic.com/2010/02/vajazzle_your_vajay-jay_would_ya.php/r:t

If so, what design would you have done?

-Sara

Oh Sara, girl you know that I would! Making my ladybits as sparkly as a discoball? Now, there is NOTHING not full of the awesome about that. My biggest gripe with the whole thing is that it lasts only a couple of days. Which, to me, seems kind of…sad. I kind of want a permanently sparkly crotch. Because OBVIOUSLY.

But if I were going to do it, I’d probably get a gigantic pink cursive B. Because I am so often called B. Or AB. Or maybe, if I was feeling daring, an ACTUAL bee. Because, OBVIOUSLY.

So I turn the tables, ladies (or gentlemen), would YOU get your dangly bits sparkly? What design?

Dear Aunt Becky,

I recently found out that both my sister and my best friend are pretty anti the blowjob… where as I would be referred to as something of a fan. The real issue that we seem to disagree on is whether giving/receiving oral is more or less intimate than actually having sex. I’ve always considered third base a much less intimate place than rounding home plate if you know what I mean… but apparently there is disagreement in this area.

What are your thoughts, opinions… shinning dollops of wisdom oh wise one (okay I may be laying it on a little thick in an attempt to elicit a response from you :-P)

Lex

Well, my sweet friend, I can see it from both sides.

On the one hand, having sex is more intimate because it’s THE SEX, MAN and it’s very emotional and you’re all up in each other’s face and then there’s the EYE contact and the breathing onto one and other and then you know, it’s SEX and of course it’s intimate.

But on the other, oral sex involves organs that, well, do things BESIDES provide sexual pleasure. Namely, they evacuate waste from the body. Plus, as we learned from Go Ask Aunt Becky Question 1, sometimes there’s a whole MESS of pubes there. Which can lend to some…unruliness and unpleasantness down below. You can get awfully up close and personal with something that doesn’t smell like roses really quickly, so on that hand, it’s pretty damn intimate.

Either way, there’s an exchange of bodily fluids into orifices, and anytime there’s bodily fluids, you’re pretty intimate.

What do you think, The Internet?

So today, Pranksters, I have a fill-in for Your Aunt Becky. May I introduce my friend Stacia from Failure To Nap. You can call her Aunt Statia because OBVIOUSLY.

Also? My friend Kate could use a hand bringing her daughters Bethany and Laura home. If you don’t know her, you should. She’s a good friend of mine, has been for a long time, and has supported me for ages, through thick and thin. I love her dearly and she’s working to adopt two children with Down’s Syndrome from the Ukraine. She’s good people. CLEARLY.

Without further tongue wagging from Your Aunt Becky, I give you Aunt Statia!

My five year old may get a male teacher next year. I have nothing against this guy. He seems lovely… but I have a bad abuse history which has left me very very wary of men when it comes to kids. Also, one of my own teachers was convicted of abusing children (boys) and recently another teacher from my area has been charged with over 40 offenses. I haven’t got any good reason to request my son be moved but I hate that I have to give a man the benefit of the doubt. I also don’t want to get a reputation as the nutcase mum.

Do I say anything? I have gently asked other mums whose children have been in his class and have had variable results as to how he is.

First of all, I’m really sorry that you had to go through such a trauma. No one should ever have to go through the hell that is abuse. Ever. I think it’s one of the meanest things anyone could ever do to another human being.

And let me ask you, have you sought therapy for your pain? I say this because therapy has saved my life. I’ve been in therapy for various reasons over the years, but after having two kids close in age, I was suffering badly and it took a lot for me to ask for help and if it weren’t for having someone that I could confide my deepest darkest secrets to, knowing they were bound by HIPAA laws, I might have been a lot worse off. So please, first and foremost, it’s OK to take care of yourself.

Secondly, I know it’s really really hard to trust people with your children. Especially in the age of media and technology being so in your face about predators and Bad Things. Not to nullify your fears, but it’s a lot less common than you think. But I hear you. It’s one of my biggest fears too. I lay awake at night worrying about stuff like this, and this is what people don’t tell you when you have kids. That you worry a lot about people hurting your babies. Here’s what I would do:

1. Ask yourself. Do you have a bad feeling about this guy? And if so, is it because of your past history, or does he truly give you a creepy vibe?

2. Ask some of his past students (if you have friend’s whose kids have had him in the past), if they’ve liked him. Asking parents can be helpful, but also tricky, as it’s easy to get mixed results, given that not everyone is going to jive in personality. Kids might be a better gauge of how the teacher really is.

3. Find out more about him. How long has he been a teacher? Does he have a family? Don’t be afraid to ask him questions about him, if it makes you feel at ease.

4. Just be your mama bear self. There should be no reason for him to be alone with your child or any student. And teach your child the basic rules of body awareness and that it’s never ok for anyone to touch them for any reason. And that if anyone should hurt them or touch them inappropriately, to tell you immediately, and never be afraid.

I wish you all the best.

Dear Aunt Becky Stacia,

PLEASE HELP!!!!!!! My ignorant in-laws are constantly ruining the Christmas season for me! I want to appreciate the season, but all I find is that it brings me stress, anger and exhaustion.

We have three wonderful, beautiful children (11, 9, 2). They have one SPOILED, 8 year old husky that is their “child”. The problem – if the children go near something the dog likes, or touch him/brush against him in the wrong way, he GROWLS AT THEM!

Because of this, we RARELY see them. But every Christmas my husband wants to do the obligatory visit (they rarely come our way, and we only live 1 1/2 hours apart).

Despite my best efforts, the dog growled at the baby when he was walking by us on the way to the backyard. I scooped her right up, but then had to listen to them tell me how he would NEVER EVER actually bite. That when he growls he doesn’t mean anything by it, he can just be “vocal”. OH MY GOD THOSE IGNORANT FOOLS.

The holiday visiting has turned me into a big scrooge.I have to be the one to demand that the dog is always kept in another room, and I am still on high alert the WHOLE time (as the dog does need to be let out to use the restroom, etc…)!!!! My husband doesn’t say much, preferring me to look like the bitch so he can keep some semblance of a relationship with his father (and step mother).

My hubby is very upset by this, but he does not want to completely cut his father out of his life. He feels that by limiting our visits to once per year, and allowing me to be the dog police is the best we can do.

Oh Aunt Becky, how do I survive stomaching these ignorant, foolish idiots?

Signed,

Doggone Tired

Oh sister, I FEEL your pain. I think next to money problems, this is the second biggest source of tension in a marriage. And I know of few people that actually get along with their in-laws. I myself have had my fair share of in-law troubles. My husband has a tendency to be very diplomatic.

When I was pregnant with my son, my mother-in-law gave me a whole heap of trouble and my husband didn’t want to rock the boat. It took me finally being outright in his face in terms of what I expected from him as a husband. This is such a tricky issue, because men generally don’t want to rock the boat when it comes to their parents, and that gives the in-laws free reign to walk all over you, and that is just not OK in my book.

If your husband really wants to keep the peace and help keep you happy in the process (because my thought is, if Mama ain’t happy, ain’t no one happy, and I realize that’s just bad grammar, but sometimes life just calls for bad grammar), he would at least have them come visit you.

I realize that in-laws also tend to be stubborn, but let him know that you’re truly afraid of the dog hurting the children and rather than have to stress yourself out over the thought of a possible accident, it might be best to at least have them over your house at least until the kids are old enough to understand that they have to leave the dog alone.

If all else fails, you can always feign illness and stay home with the kids, and then as a treat, you can all have ice cream for dinner. Because you deserve it.

3) How do you get revenge on the snarky, obnoxious, superior critic of your success as a mother when it’s you?

How do make the bitch SHUT UP!

Ok, here’s the deal. Sometimes, it’s OK to be smug as mother. Sometimes, you have to toot your own horn from time to time. Because let’s face it, being a mother is a thankless job and sometimes the only appreciation is going to come from you.

However, there is a time and a place for it. When you’ve successfully bribed your child with broccoli and they ate the whole plate? Pat yourself on the back.

You can be smug. And if you want to share that with your friends, you can say something like “Oh my god, I can’t believe it, but I totally got my child to eat BROCCOLI, oh glorious day, maybe I should play the lottery!” Make it seem as if you’re so proud of yourself because stuff like this NEVER happens.

You may think that you’re a better mother than everyone else. You may think you’re super mom, but you know what? We’re all trying to do the best job we can, so being smug around other parents is just not cool. No one likes a one upping, judgey mom.

Because you know what? At some point, your kids are going to do things that will pull that perfectly clean sparkling rug out from underneath you and make you question every single thing you ever did as a parent.

Case in point? My son was an angel baby. Never questioned a thing I said, never got into trouble (I could leave oily rags and a lighter out and he wouldn’t even so much as glance at them, seriously). Now? He’s a HELLION.

Just remember. What goes around, comes around, and at some point, it’s going to come back to you.

My daughter Sara met this girl Abby when they were only about 2 years old.  My daughter fell in LOVE with Abby.  So the mom and I exchanged numbers and for the past 3 years we’ve had about 3 or 4 play dates per year.

They are a super nice family and I love them, I wish we could get together more often….but busy times, busy people.

Anyway, I think I can sort of tell that Abby sort of thinks of Sara in a …’could take this friendship or leave this friendship anytime’ sort of way.

They are only 4 and 5 years old.  When they are together they play really well.  But it just makes me wonder.  Why does my daughter LOVE this child so much and this child is sort of indifferent?

On the other side of that, another friend my daughter plays with, Cindy, loves my daughter Sara so very much.  And of course Sara is a bit indifferent.

I just always wonder about that.  Tell me what you think about it all?

(Names have been changed to make me feel clever)

I *love* changing names to make me feel clever, Gentle Reader! That’s full of the Awesome that you do too. Except I can never remember what I changed names TO, which is why I blog under my real name. Otherwise, you’d get wickedly confused when I called my son 74 different names in a single sentence. I’m clearly no genius.

But, tell you something you DIDN’T know, right?

ANYWAY.

Kids? Are fickle and weird creatures. That’s probably the shortest explanation I can give you. I’m sure a child psychologist could give you some more insight into WHY they’re weird and twitchy like that, but that’s just what they do.

Let me give you an example.

Ben (who is 8) has a best friend who lives in the neighborhood. All summer they were joined at the hip, and, in fact, they are in the same class in school. But they haven’t really played together since the end of August. Why? I HAVE NO IDEA. Ben has no idea.

Until this week, when they’re suddenly best of friends again.

No idea why.

So my answer is this: kids are weird and squirrelly.

Aunt Becky, I need help!  I don’t know what to talk about to people anymore! I just had my second baby on Halloween, and it seems like since then, all I can think to talk about are REALLY inappropriate things.  Like, the other day, I seriously considered changing my Facebook status to “Mommy’s nipple is super sore from nursing”.  WTF?! I know this isn’t appropriate! My DAD reads my status!! But right now, I’m crazy enough, I’d probably tell him to his face.  This is insane! Will this wear off?  Is there a support group?  People who don’t mind listening to this tmi minutia?

Thanks!!!

Oh Gentle Reader, I think that you’ve already FOUND that support group here. Or, at the very least, you’ve got a friend in Your Aunt Becky. Because you’re asking the same person who, just this week tweeted,

“My quest for honey uncrustables has been so far in a sad, sad word: fruitless. That so sounded like an exotic STD, didn’t it?”

and

“Sometimes, when I look like I’m staring into space, I’m really just imagining what I’d if I had a third arm.”

So, I suppose that what I’m saying is this: we’re all entertained by pointless TMI minutiae. Or, if we’re not, I have 4,668 people who follow me to point and laugh. Which is entirely possible. In fact, it’s likely.

If it bothers you, try picking up a newspaper and just reading the headlines so that you can talk a little bit about what’s going on in the world. Your brain will grow back once you start sleeping some more, I promise.

And I’m kind of a lost cause. But hey, I’ve got my Uncrustables, so I’m happy.

Dear My Band of Merry Pranksters,

I am in the middle of feverishly working on getting my new site design up and running and I need your help. What are your favorite posts that I’ve written? I know, I KNOW, I ask so much of you.

xoxo,

Your Aunt Becky

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P.S. If’n you’re going to BlogHer and want to vote to see The Mouthy Housewives and Your Aunt Becky (Sherrick Harks) speak, today is THE LAST DAY to vote for our room. So, go here, vote and let the people speak! Or not. Whatever. I’ll still BE there. Maybe I’ll speak in my OWN room. BY MYSELF.

Dear Aunt Becky…

My best friend’s husband, who is a teacher, a married man, and a father of 2, was recently arrested for having “inappropriate” email contact with a 17-year-old girl. I think it’s horrific and told my best friend my honest feelings the day the story broke.

She is now mad at me because I’m not being supportive of her hubby and thinks I’m being judgmental. Keep in mind that she and he admitted the entire thing was true. I haven’t heard from her in a week and I’m not sure what to do. I realize now I should have kept my opinion to myself.

Any idea how to get the friendship back on track? Or should I just stay away?

Oh Gentle Reader, what a fucked up situation.

I always think about the parents of mass murderers, as they go on trial. The ones that weren’t shitty parents who chained their kids to a wall, you know? The parents who genuinely did a good job, but whose children were just born bad and ended up smashing heads in.

Then, when Judgment Day comes, you’ve got the whole world looking at you like “what did YOU DO to make such a monster?”

I think about that a lot. (I worked in juvenile prison for awhile)

In this case, no one wins. It’s terrible. I can’t imagine finding out that my husband–the father of my children–was carrying on inappropriately with a child. That’s got to be so twisted.

In this case, Gentle Reader, I think you need to put aside whatever feelings you have about your friend’s husband because what’s going with her isn’t about your feelings, and you need to apologize to her. She needs to feel less like the world is against her and more like someone is in her corner.

Her life has been turned upside down, and no matter how fucked up her husband is, this is about her. You don’t need to be supportive of him, you need to be supportive of her. Her head has got to be reeling right now. She’ll come to her senses.

If she doesn’t, well, I think it’s time to reevaluate your friendship.

What are your top ten favorite books to read to each of your kids, and why?

Now, if my children could handle reading books in a non-obsessive manner, I’d probably be able to answer this one, question, oh Internet, my Internet. But my children have sucked all joy out of each and every reading of Goodnight Moon and gnarfed the marrow from even such classics as Baby, Make Me Breakfast with their endless repetition.

I’m looking forward to getting past this particular stage with the small ones.

Benjamin loves the Captain Underpants, Diary of a Wimpy Kid, Magic Treehouse, and Harry Potter Books and has read (I think) most of them.

I’m partial to the Dr. Seuss books, but my children can never sit still long enough to enjoy them.

*gets up to run laps around the house*

*pets the dog*

*chases the cat*

I have no idea where they get their inability to sit still from. I blame The Daver.

Okay, so I know our moms grew up during the sexual revolution and were all bra burny and such but today she’s 55. AND…when it was all going on in the 60’s and 70’s, she partook from an arms length. Don’t get me wrong, she did her fair share of The Pot, but was always well groomed and well dressed.

TODAY, however, my moms uniform is a tight cotton tee, jeans (that may or may not be from the women’s section), walmart slip-on tennis shoes, and NO BRA! She needs a bra. How on earth do I tell my mother that her melons need a sling and her wardrobe sucks? I am honestly embarrassed to go anywhere that might be even the slightest bit chilly with her.

So your mom needs an over-the-shoulder-boulder-holder, huh? And a complete makeover, it sounds like, because she’s sort of given up on trying to be attractive.

Well, here’s what worked for my dad, who, I should add, did NOT need a bra.

My dad, God Love Him, is a sucker for a bargain, and not because he doesn’t have money. Like, you see something on sale, and my dad is ALL fucking about it even if he doesn’t REALLY need it or if it actually like, FIT him or anything. So he was drawn to Kohl’s like a moth to flame when he realized that the store was always on sale.

I realized that my father had gone from looking like a respectable pharmacist to like Bozo the Clown’s sidekick, Joe, The Gimp (don’t feel too bad, my dad can take it. He raised me to be Your Aunt Becky, after all). It was painful to be near him because his clothes were so bright, garish, and fucking ugly.

So my brother, who shops only at Brooks Brothers and Ralph Lauren and I formulated a plan and one holiday we implemented it: we staged an Intervention.

“Dad,” I said very, very seriously. “Aaron and I have to talk to you. You can never shop at Kohl’s again. In fact, we’re taking all of your horrible patterned shirts and we’re donating them to some golf league somewhere.”

“What?” He gasped.

“Yes.” My brother continued soberly. “Dad, you cannot continue on like this. No one wants to be seen next to you. We all pretend like we don’t know you when we go out together.”

“You aren’t serious!” My dad was shocked.

“WON’T SOMEONE THINK OF THE CHILDREN!!!” I cried. “My children are afraid of your clothes! Look! Mimi just puked on herself after she saw your shirt!”

He sat there, thinking. Finally he spoke, “All right. If you guys say so.”

Dave, Aaron, Joy (my sister in law) and I all simultaneously said “YES!!” so loudly that Mimi jumped.

It’s actually worked. I mean, he still teases us about it. Like today when I asked them to watch the kids so we could go shopping for some clothes for Dave, he’s all “I hear Kohl’s has a great sale going on!” But he hasn’t been back.

So maybe that’s your best course of action. An INTERVENTION.

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As always, Merry Pranksters, fill in where I’ve left off in the comments. And feel free to submit YOUR burning questions to Your Aunt Becky through the form on the sidebar (under Pages).

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And remember, whether you’re going to BlogHer or not, we need your votes!! Aunt Becky, Marinka, Wendi, and I (of The Mouthy Housewives and Mommy Wants Vodka) have put in for a Room of our Own on how to create a successful, entertaining advice site.

So please just click here, log on to BlogHer and then click “I would attend this session” (it’s just above the title: Dear Abby 2.0). After you click it it will miraculously say “I would not attend this session.” This means that your vote for the session has been successfully registered. Thank you!

I’m an eater. If I’m happy, sad, depressed, bored, tired or anything else…I tend to eat. While I am overweight, I’m not obese, so many people probably don’t realize that I have a problem.

I’ve known for awhile – but really have no clue how to fix it. Any ideas??

Oh Gentle Reader, it sounds to me like you’re a compulsive eater. I’m compulsive too, so I get that, don’t think I’m being all judge-mc-Aunt Becky here (you should see my orchids)(or my blog).

But the thing is, you obviously know it’s not healthy because it’s not, and you need to fix it. So baby steps, right? First, you need to put your finger on why you’re eating and figure out your triggers and learn to avoid them. As someone who has successfully quit smoking, I know this works.

Change your routine.

You’re using food (smokers use cigarettes, alcoholics use booze, pill-hounds pop pills) to fill some other emotional void and that’s not going to work forever. It’s not healthy. So figure out what it is, which, it sounds like you have, and try and channel it into something else.

Find some other healthy things that bring you joy and turn those into your void fillers. Pick harmless stuff and do that. Read a book. Garden. Blog. Take a walk. The point is, you need to get your mind off of food and on to something else. Distraction is key.

There are some really wholesome things to do that involve your hands and your head. (have you seen my orchids?)

Chew some gum and work on some cross stitching (don’t diss the cross-stitching, people). Plan your meals on a schedule and when you catch yourself reaching for the bag of chips ask yourself if you’re REALLY hungry or if you’re using them as a crutch.

If that doesn’t help, try and talk to someone professionally. I wish you luck, because I understand compulsions completely. I’m lucky mine are so wholesome that I’m practically all “Golly GEE, Mister*!!”

I have recently become friends with someone and after a few months of really enjoying hanging out with she and her husband and kid, my wife and I have started noticing a habit we are not fond of. My friend tends to make fun of people everywhere we go.

At first for me this was just a sort of funny, not meaning any harm thing, but lately I see how she does it a lot, and I don’t really like it. It was brought to my attention because her kid and mine are at the same daycare, and she will very quickly decide she doesn’t like one of the other parents. The main one is a mom whom she held the door for a few times and the other mom never acknowledged it. Not a big deal to me, but for her now she feels it is ok to bad mouth this woman to us, where the other mom can hear it.

To me, that is crossing a line into being mean to someone who has really not done anything bad. Sure, she was rude on a few occasions and did not say thanks for holding the door, but seriously, let’s be adults. Anyhow, this has caused me to see how much she insults everyone around us, and gets super gossipy about the other kids and parents at daycare.

With the ones she likes, she goes out of her way to get e-mail addresses so we can include them in park outings and such, so she can be really nice, and I do truly like her. I think mainly she just needs to feel more secure so she won’t feel the need to put down others so much.

My dilemma is how to handle it when she is whispering and laughing her insults about the other parents at the park? I don’t want to confront her and hurt her feelings or ruin our friendship, but I don’t want to participate either. If I say nothing I’m afraid it will be awkward. Any ideas?

Well, now, I’m all for being bitchy now and again, but in this situation I’m afraid you’re stuck between a rock and a bigger rock. I mean, if you do nothing, you’re alienating the people that don’t really deserve it by proxy. And if you butt up against your friend, you’re an ass in her eyes.

If I were you I’d keep your mouth shut and not badmouth anyone who didn’t deserve it. It’s bad karma.

And really, I know that this person is your friend, but my advice is to tread lightly around her. I’ve known people like this before and I’ve never been able to maintain friendships with them for very long.

Anyone who notes faults in others is probably turning around to note fault in me, too, when my back is turned. Which, incidentally, is what happened every time with the people I knew who were like this. That makes it hard to have a real friendship.

I don’t doubt that it is a lack of self-esteem on her part, but I don’t want you to get sucked down the rabbit hole. Watch yourself, my friend.

Dear Aunt Becky-

I have a neighbor who happens to be a pretty decent friend with two kids.. One of which is an adorable 2 year old and the other is SATAN. Seriously a straight-jacket worthy psycho 6 year old. I cannot stand being around him because he is mean to my 3 year old and not in a..”oh he’s just a typically six year old kind of way. More like mean in a devil’s spawn kind of way. The problem is my friend asks me to babysit ALL of the time and I’m running out of excuses. Any suggestions on shutting down the babysitting thing all together?

Thanks

I love situations where you can’t tell your friend that you hate their kid. It’s so honest and refreshing. Like eating a poo sandwich!

I feel for you, duder. You don’t want to babysit and you don’t want your kid around the hell beast, because no matter what sort of emotional problems he has, that’s really not your problem.

It’s times like this when you are left no option but to tell the truth: you can’t handle children older than your own. It’s not quite the truth, but it’s not really a lie. Like that Britney song ‘I’m Not A Girl, Not Yet A Woman.’ Or…something.

You need to make up some sort of reason that’s believable enough (that require you saying “I don’t want to deal with your kid”) that doesn’t have you scrambling every time you see her number on your caller ID. Because really, you don’t owe her the favor of babysitting. There are babysitting SERVICES for that sort of thing. And even they can say “no.”

Then you can hand her the number for a Sitter City and be done with it.

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As always, The Internet, please fill in anywhere that I left off in the comments.

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And have a happy and safe Valentine’s Day and whatever you do, don’t forget that women prefer men with shaved balls. I am going to grow old, dimply and floppy with you, The Internet.

CONSIDER THAT A THREAT.

*shut the fuck up.

I stole a lot of your material from your blog. Now I have herpes. What happened?

P.S. I am a virgin. So is my 16-yr old daughter.

You know what confuses me most? I am a virgin too. I was explaining this to my doctor when I got pregnant with Amelia and she rolled her eyes at me! I thought that was very nervy of her because it’s very obvious that I am a pure, pure girl.

And I also have The Herpes. Well, okay, I don’t, but I was trying to make you feel better about yourself and your diseased crotch.

But perhaps stealing my very important and obviously awesome (and by awesome I mean I should probably not quit my day job)(wait, I don’t have a day job) content is a bad thing. Because stealing content is what gave you herpes. Maybe you should give me tens of thousands of dollars as an apology so that your crotch goes back to normal. Then your herpes will go away.

P.S. Give me money.

Do you let your kids watch cartoons? How do they feel about the new computer generated graphics vs. the old hand drawn cartoons? Personally, I can’t stand the new Disney characters that are CG, even if they are slightly 3-dimensional. I was just wondering how an actual child felt about them.

I am going to guess that my family is not going to give you the normal spectrum of answers because my kids are full of weirdness and quirks. Which, I mean, with me as their mother, you can’t really blame them for.

Ben, the 8 year old, will succumb to peer pressure of the kids in his age bracket and watch a CG movie if they’re watching it. Otherwise, getting him to watch a movie is kind of like getting him to get a root canal. Actually, he’d probably prefer the root canal.

But, like I said, if his friends are doing it, he’ll do it. Likewise, if his 2 year old BROTHER is doing it, he’ll do it too.

Alex is 2. 2 year old’s that come forcibly ejected from my nether bits tend to be as stubborn as the day is long (whatEVER that means). Roughly translated, if I put his dinner on the wrong plate, he won’t eat it. So there’s a couple of videos he’ll watch, and that’s it. (I’m betting some of you are frantically reaching for your birth control pills right now)

Some of them ARE CG, though, but not to the exclusion of others.

And Mimi? I think she’s too busy beating on her brothers to notice.

What, praytell, does the tooth fairy bring to your house? How does she do the exchange without waking the kid? And why does that wiggly tooth make me want to throw up?

Thank the sweet merciful Lord in heaven that Ben sleeps like a stone. My other two, not so much, so when they start losing their wee teeth, I’m going to have to come up with some better solution than clomping in there half-asleep because I’d woken up from a dead sleep, panicked because I’d forgotten to leave a couple of bucks for my kid.

Now, Ben isn’t greedy and could give a shit what the Tooth Fairy brings to him, so I keep it at a couple of bucks. I could probably give him a shiny quarter, if it weren’t for his freakish memory. He’s the kid who is all “remember when we ate the red potatoes on the day that the snow piled exactly 4.3 inches high?”

And I’m like, “uh, and how is it that you can’t remember to wash your hands after you use the fucking bathroom?”

But this is neither here nor there (autistic people have amazing recall, something I could stand to borrow right about now).

So, HEED MY WARNING: once you give a dollar amount, you will be stuck with that amount, amazing memory regardless. Start SMALL, my friend.

And I get heebie jeebies with eyeball stuff, not so much with the teeth. *shudders*

Hey Aunt Becky,

My friend of eleven years has recently cut off contact with me. She’s blocked me on all social media sites (facebook, AIM, stopped following my blog, etc.). I’m not quite sure what prompted this. She was my best friend in high-school and a good portion of college, and then she started dating this guy.

You had to know a boy was involved, right? Well, he’s a scumbag. He’s not quite right in the head, and he has no respect for her or her friends. I told her when she started dating him that I didn’t like him and that I thought he was bad for her. She later found a few suspect text messages on his cell phone (to another woman…and they were of the ‘if you were here I’d so totally be making the sex with you’ variety), and they broke up…for a week and a half. She took him back, and they’ve been together ever since. She’s convinced that he’s going to propose to her soon. Urg.

And so that was that.

Since that point, we’ve been drifting apart. Almost to the point where we would only speak to each other about once a month. But, I figured that it was because we are both busy – I’m constantly job hunting, and balancing a full-time job with volunteering; she just started a new job, and she just moved. And then the blocking occurred.

So I’m just kind of left in limbo. I know that we’ve been distanced for a while, and I can accept that that might be why she’s cut off contact. But I feel as if I’ve done something (when I haven’t). What’s worse is that one of our mutual friends has also blocked me – I’m scared that all of our mutual friends will follow suit. I shot her an e-mail asking her what was up, but she hasn’t responded.

Help?

-Nyx, aka Confused and Less Two Friends

Oh Nyx, I’m so sorry. What your friend did was a shitty, low-ball thing to do and no matter what perceived wrong you did to her, that’s a really immature way for her to handle it. As adults, we should behave, well, like we’re adults and not like we’re 12 again, and you did the mature thing by trying to figure out what was going on.

What you have to do now is to accept that whatever happened is done and that it’s not your fault. Even if it is, you’re not the one who handled it like a jackass, the both of them are. The mature thing to do isn’t to hide behind not returning emails, it’s to respond, face up to problems, and then move on.

I’ve had this happen with two of my former best friends before (one was supposed to stand up in my wedding as my maid of honor and just stopped returning my calls. I’ve not heard from her again) and it sucks. You’ll probably never know what you did “wrong,” and whether it was “wrong” is a matter of personal opinion.

What I’ve tried to do (especially since one of them stalks my blog) is accept that you won’t ever know what exactly you did, and that anyone who so blatantly disregards you and your feelings isn’t really worthy of your time or energy. It’s sad and it’s hard and I’m sorry.

In this case, don’t beat yourself up too much, okay?

xoxo,

AB

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As always, please fill in where I left off in the comments, yo.

OH!

BlogHer ’10 is coming to NYC this summer and some of the Mouthy Housewives and me!! have put together a proposal for a room, called Dear Abby 2.0: Giving Advice in the Blogosphere. We will tell you everything you need to know about creating a successful internet advice site, all while eating bon bons and swilling vodka. It’ll be a lot of laughs, and a fun discussion for sure.

Please help us bring this session to BlogHer! Whether you plan to be there or not, you can vote by going here, logging on to BlogHer and then clicking “I would attend this session” (it’s just above the title: Dear Abby 2.0). After you click it it will miraculously say, “I would not attend this session.” This means that your vote for the session has been successfully registered. Thank you!

I’ve just found your site, and you’ve probably answered this question a million times before, but here goes. Why do you call yourself Aunt Becky?

See, now that’s an awesome question, actually. I’ve dedicated an entire post to it right here.

Dear Aunt Becky,

I was just wondering where you draw the line between blogger Aunt Becky, and Becky in real life.

Let’s say you get introduced to someone, and they are a big fan of your blog (because obviously). Would you be wierded out if they asked (in a sincere, fanlike way) if Dave had gotten his penis ring yet, or if you were feeling better about the attractiveness of your “cooter”?

Do you refer to your children as crotch parasites at playdates :)? Or do you just pray that the “pretty vagina question” will not come up at the next PTA meeting lol?

What is Aunt Becky like when she is away from the shield of the screen?

Love,
Too Chicken To Blog

Dear Too Chicken,

The Daver here. Becky tried to answer your question but despite the fact that she talks about her life online every day ( 904 posts in the ol’ archive at last count. Nine. Hundred. Four. ), she has a terrible time answering questions about herself.

Which, in a strange way, should give you some idea as to the answer: she’s not that much different in real life. I don’t see her ever refer to people who read her blog as ‘fans’. They’re her people, her gnomies, her Internets; so if someone asked her about my penis ring, she’d probably tell you the truth: no, not yet.

I think the only time she’d be weirded out by someone is if they took it to another level, like showing up at our house unannounced wearing leather assless chaps and dancing around our yard chanting “Aunt Becky Is My HERO!” If if were *announced*, of course, that may be a different matter. MAYBE.

I’ve heard the phrases “crotch fruit” and “beef curtains” on more than one playdate, but she probably wouldn’t use those terms if she didn’t know you were down with it. Like, around my parents? She doesn’t even flip me the bird too often, and she limits her use of terms of endearment like ‘assbag’, ‘old balls’, and ‘shithead’, keeping it to ‘pooface’ and the ever-popular ‘dear’.

In real life, she’s a little less patient, a little more sarcastic ( some kinds of sarcasm just don’t translate well to blogs ), every bit as smart, and just as hilarious. I married her for good reason, y’know.

–The Daver

I would like to add to The Daver’s wonderful guest blog that I am also stunningly gorgeous.

who sang the song “the hardest part of love is letting go?

So, I have never heard of this song, but apparently it’s sung by Stephanie J. Block and from a play “Children of Eden.”

Because I do not know it, I am forced to believe it’s probably not as awesome as some other songs. So I’d recommend things like Dolly Parton’s “Little Sparrow,” anything by ABBA, and the entire Red Hot Chili Pepper’s Blood Sugar Sex Magik album. Or really, anything by Queen.

Dear Aunt Becky

Where did I leave my keys?

Probably the best thing about being married is that Dave always knows where his keys are. I do not. I mean, I KIND OF know where mine are, but not really. Dave cannot imagine a life where people do not know where his keys are at any given moment in time.

By this statement, you’d think that of the two of us, Dave would be the organized one, all of his I’s dotted and t’s crossed, but no. HOLY SHIT no. I can’t find my wallet 98% of the time, yet I am the one who knows where everything else in the house is and what it does and what it should be doing tomorrow.

Everything except for my wallet, keys and phone.

I think your keys are behind the toilet right now. Or maybe on a plane to China. Or in the toy bin. Or up the street having dinner with a French prostitute.

But you should ask The Daver. He’d know better.

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In the event that you are going to Blogher and would be interested in heckling me from the audience of an! official! panel, go here and tell them that you’d want to throw things at me. They’re just seeing if there’s any interest in the topic, so it’s not like all ‘get your rotted fruit ready’ yet.

And Bloggies close today.

Dear The Internet,

My name is Aunt Becky and this is my blog. I’m writing to you today to ask you for some prayers for a new friend of mine whose baby has been diagnosed -in utero- with the same type of posterior encephalocele that Amelia had.

In my travels around The Internet, I haven’t found many of us. In fact, she’s the only other person I know whose child has had this type of neural tube defect, and she’s understandably shocked and terrified. She has a much longer road to travel than I did because she’s only about 20 weeks pregnant, and I know how much your thoughts and prayers lifted me up.

If you could, please spare a thought and a prayer for my friend and her baby.

xoxo,

Your Aunt Becky

P.S. Have you lost weight? Because I’m not just saying that to butter you up or anything. You really do look amazing. Want to make out?

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Last night I was telling DH that when I get my check from the remainder of my student loan, I’m going to buy my breast pump. He immediately said “No! I forgot to tell you, [his sister] is buying it for me because she knows a good one”.

First of all, I’ve done a ton of research on pumping…reviews, word of mouth, recommendations from moms on message boards, and even my own doctor’s office. I’m very set on the pump I want.

Second of all, even if she did happen to get me the one I want, it’s $300. She borrows gas money and money for her own kids’ clothes and daycare from DH’s parents all the time. Why the heck would she spend that much money on a gift for me?

Third of all, we are not close at all. In fact, she’s never liked me and that’s obvious, yet she picks the most personal item to want to buy me for the baby.

So, DH mentioned to his mom that the pump is already taken care of, and she freaked out, basically saying that not letting my SIL get me the pump she wants to get me will ruin the semi-good relationship we all have going on right now.

WTF do I do? It’s supposed to be a surprise, so I can’t say to her “I know you want to get me the pump, but don’t”, and I see her once every month or so and she barely says hi to me. How do I make this go my way without causing WWIII? Drinking heavily isn’t an option, due to the mini human being I have wiggling around in my uterus, so what the hell do I do, Aunt Becky?

Well, now THAT’S awkward, isn’t it. And no, that wasn’t a question. I mean, anything related to breast pumps and in-laws who don’t like you is kinda awkward. Hell, BREAST pumps are kind of awkward. I mean, have you TRIED attaching them? (I kid, I kid) Alas, I digress…

So, you’re really stuck between a rock and a bigger rock, and when it comes to this, it seems you’ve got one big choice to make: do you want to potentially cause a fight? Because if you really want what you want (because, hello, they’re you’re boobies) you need to get the message to your sister-in-law that you want the breast pump you picked out.

PERIOD.

If you’re not interested in rocking the familial boat, I’d sit back, see what she brings and if you don’t like it, return it and buy what you wanted in the first place. Either way, it’s a win-win. And it’s never a bad idea to have a back-up pump.

Dear Aunt Becky,

Are we supposed to wear pantyhose anymore? Pictures in In Style magazine, and the people on What Not to Wear never seem to have hose on. What’s up with that?

Am I supposed to expose my blinding white calves to the world?

Thanks!

Apparently, it’s not in vogue to wear pantyhose anymore and it’s better to blind your date with your pasty whiteness than to wear the hose. Who knew? No seriously, WHO KNEW? You flash your crotch around like the celebs to to distract from your white skin.

Tights are apparently okay, pantyhose are not.

Aunt Becky,
My very best friend rocks. She is a great person and has the greatest family who always make me feel like part of their family too. She and her husband have no children, but being the only married sibling, she has been feeling pressure to have children for her 60ish year old parents (and obviously herself and her husband too.).

Friday she found out that her dad’s lymphoma is back and in a secondary location. On Monday he went to another doctor and found out that his cancer is inoperable and the only treatment is painful and usually unsuccessful. They told him he has 6-9 months which obviously doesn’t give them time to have a baby. My question to you Aunt Becky is how can I help my amazing friend and her family in their time of need?

‘Need help being a great friend

Oh Gentle Reader, it’s obvious that you already are a great friend because you care so much about her and her family. She’s so lucky to have you. I’ll give you some advice here and then I’m sure my readers chime in. Here’s a website I found.

Be sure to give her time to talk about what she’s feeling and going through without trying to make it all better. Just shut your mouth and listen if she wants to talk.

Bring over meals, clean the house, take care of chores that you can without waiting to be asked. It’s really hard to ask for help, so it’s good to just DO rather than sit around waiting to be asked.

Try and follow through with anything you’ve promised you’re going to do.

Allow her to be upset or sad without interrupting her grieving.

Give her a break when you can by taking her out to do fun stuff that you both enjoy doing when you both are able.

Help coordinate any care-related stuff for her dad and see if you can be of any help (picking up medication, etc)

And really, just avoid saying stuff like, “I know how you’re feeling,” “don’t worry,” “I don’t know how you’re handling it all so well” because it’s really offensive. I have a feeling you know better than that, but I figured I’d mention it.

You’re a wonderful soul and I wish you and your friend and her family all the best.

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As always, dear Internetters, please fill in the gaps where I’ve left off and feel free to share your wisdom in the comments. If you are so inclined, you can vote for me in the Bloggies under Best Humor Blog.

Then I might be inclined to show you my hooters.