Today is an exciting day here at parenting BY dummies.
But, in an effort to stick to traditions and keep myself on a schedule, I’ve decided not to forgo Ask Me Monday (I know how much ya’ll love it!).
But, as I am, the creative director around this piece I have decided to change it up a wee little bit.
Not much, I swear, you’ll barely even notice.
But, instead of answering your direct questions, I’m going to answer the underlying one that has at some time crossed each and every one of your minds:
Who is Dumb Mom really?
Not my birth name or my married name. Those things are trivial (and not gonna be divulged unless you hunt me down which is a metaphor for GO TO THE SITS BLOGGY BOOT CAMP IN BALTIMORE WHERE I WILL BE NEXT MONTH).
What you want to know (don’t ask me how I know this, I just do) is who is the woman behind the
pretty face? Who is the real Dumb Mom? What makes her tick and where did she come from anyway?
And, as poetry is sorta my thing nowadays, I’ve decided to answer your query with a poem of sorts (borrowed from a sexy star and reimagined, aka stolen mercilessly, to apply to me)…
I was a girl, no extensions just long hair,
wanted bamboo earrings, at least two pair.
A Fendi bag and a bad attitude,
was not my thing, I didn’t like to be rude.
I could walk with a switch, but I lacked in street slang.
Not quite a woman but I still did my thing.
Never at a bus stop, but loved me some lollipops
Once I got jumping* was hard to make this hottie stop.
I liked to dance to the rap jams.
I was sweet as brown sugar with the candied yams.
Honey coated complexion,
What the hell is Camay?
Let’s hear it for me ya’ll I’m from around the way.
Please tell me you recognize this little ditty.
Mama Said Knock You Out, circa 1990?
Hottest effing hip hop star to ever walk this earth (okay, tied for hottest with T.I. and only not second to JT because, well, JT is not really a hip hop artist even though he pretends to be from time to time)…
Is he even human?
Okay, if you are confused right now
because you are some strange freak of nature whose 1990s music collection did not include LL Cool J just bear with me. There is a method to this madness.
As hot as Mr. Smith (that’s his boring real name) is, it is not his sexy that I’m meaning to call attention to in this post, but his significance to a time period that I can not forget: 1990 .
It was an awesome year. It jumped off an entire decade of unforgettable music, fashion styles, movies and television shows.
So many lovely things got their start in the 90s.
Great movies: Austin “Danger” Powers, Dumb and Dumber, Happy Gilmore, Steel Magnolias, Sleepless in Seattle, Pulp Fiction, Forrest Gump, Boyz in da Hood, The Matrix, Jurassic-freakin’-Park. I mean I could go on for days about just the movies.
But there were tons of other cool things too!
Television shows sorta made names for themselves in the 90s. I know that’s when I became the serious television connoisseur that I am today.
I was hooked on stuff like Beverly Hills 90210 (the real one), Melrose Place (the one worth watching), Friends, Seinfeld (which I honestly didn’t start watching until I was in college and it started the reruns every night), The X-Files (which I only watched because I wanted to seem all deep and smart for Hubby who loved the stupid show), and The Fresh Prince of Bel Air (back when Will Smith was funny).
And then there was the music, and the fashion, and O.J. (I’m talking about The Juice, not the juice), and the Internet, to which we owe our lives.
But perhaps the most significant creation of the 90s was me!
Now, I’m not young enough to claim that my momma actually squeezed me out during the 90s, but I can say that since I completed some of middle school, all of high school, and most of college during the 90s, my social persona, awkward though it may be, was largely formed during this time.
Sadly, this is the foundation upon which it was built…
Yes, friends, that is your beloved Dumb Mom circa 1992.
Hair feathered with a
ridiculous amount of hint of frizz, Al B. Sure unibrow, bad dental work (I think I’m actually missing a tooth!), crazy shirt, all tied together with a tarnished, but arguably stylish gold chain.
I coulda used a stern talking to (which I distinctly remember getting) re:my senseless disregard of approved grooming practices and fashion dos.
It’s a wonder that I turned out to be the looker I am today (actually, I’m not much improved but at least my parents caved on got the braces. Changed. My. Life.).
As Bruncle used to say, I was a “hot mess”.
But, I’m okay with that. And, do you want to know why?
Why I am willing, even eager, to share this hideous depiction of the girl formerly known as Bulldog (ask BFF, I kid you not, they called me that in high school and anytime you are compared to a dog of any sort you can pretty much imagine that things ain’t going your way in the dating department)?
Because I’m pretty certain that many of you looked similarly bad and you’re gonna prove it!
Because today is the launch of parenting BY dummies First Ever FUGLY FACE PHOTO CONTEST!
That’s right people. A vintage photo contest celebrating the fact that we all weren’t candidates to be cast in Clueless (another awesome 90s hit) unless we wanted to play Tai (RIP Brittany Murphy).
Some of us were physically awkward with personalities to match.
But lucky for us, we’ve all grown up to be
moderately productive, somewhat well-rounded, reluctantly responsible members of society.
So, wanna join me in celebrating the awkward years?
Want to be crowned the PBD’s 1990s Inspired BLOG DAWG of the Year?!
All you have to do to get involved is email me (parentingbydummies[at]gmail[dot]com) a wicked bad photo of yourself from the 90s. You know what I’m talking about. You in 3 pairs of slouchy socks and LA Gear to match, mile high bangs, tight rolled jeans, Hammer pants (come on they were comfy, you know you had a pair), head gear adorned braces, Proactive worthy acne, those glasses that make your eyes look all small. That kinda stuff. And say I’m allowed to have my way with it (aka post it on my blog and make fun of it).
Then you wait until February 12th, when the last qualified entry hits my inbox, and you start campaigning (on your blog, on Twitter, on Facebook, by sending me cash bribes in discreetly marked envelopes).
Because what you want is votes.
Votes that say you really are owner of the Fugliest Face from the 90s so that you, as fan favorite Blog Dawg, can win a copy of Corel's Digital Studio 2010 (a photo editing and movie making software program).
How awesome is that?
So very, if you ask me!
More info to come throughout the week, but get those entries dug out and sent in because there will also be daily prizes** awarded to Tweeters (people who Tweet about the contest even if they don’t actually enter will be eligible for daily prizes too) and entrants also!
And, just because I am a huge control freak, there will also be a Dumb Mom Favorite awarded too for Fugly Photo that Made Me Pee a Little (aka laughed-so-hard-I-messed-myself photo, aka should-be-punished-in-a-court-of-law photo).
Now, chop, chop people.
Time’s awastin’ and you know you wanna be crowned Blog Dawg of the Year in the First Ever Fugly Face Photo Contest.
Even if you are convinced, as I am, that you were your high school’s version of Kelly/Cher/other super cool high school heroine, there is at least one photo to claim other wise. We all have them. For some they will be the class picture that showed up in the yearbook (see above). But for others, they may be a fluke or a one-time deal snapped by your mom with your dorky little brother ruining it like always (see below). Either way they’re out there.
And, even if you had Poison airbrushed on your backside (which would indicate that you really did think you were all that and a bag of chips) I encourage you to enter them, they are
just as more funny now than they were then. Trust me.
Prestigious title (being named official Blog Dawg of 2010)+awesome prize (your own copy of Corel Digital Studio)=worth the embarrassment.
*not sure what this sentence actually meant, so I changed it to “jumping”, as in rope. It was 1990 for crying out loud, I was 12!
**daily prizes are funded by moi which means they are mediocre. But, they are free so no reason not to participate. We both know you’ll do just about anything for some free junk!