SINGLE MOTHER FU*KER!: Mommy Confessions

FEBRUARY 16, 2008


I've been BAD. Really. Fuckin. Bad. Note the CAPS in 'bad.'
Let me confess…
I've been smoking.
Yes, folks. And it's totally fucked up.
Started my dirty little secret at Sundance.
And haven't exactly stopped.
Aria is away with Dada for the weekend which means I've I got carte blanche to smoke my brains out. And I am. I'm talking 7 am styyyyle.
Please god make me stop.
I will. Starting Monday.
But it gets worse. I'll tell ya a little story of just how bad I am.


And speaking of confessions, I've been getting lots of notes from readers to please keep posting my MOMMY CONFESSIONS from days gone by, soooooooo.....I've created a youtube channel for them!

READ MORE MOMMY CONFESSIONS, like how I've been wearing my toddler's barrettes or how I *gulp* took her to the American Girl store.


FEBRUARY 29, 2008


....and turning it down as we speak. Not as I'm writing this very second, technically speaking. In theory, obviously. There is a dripping hot, sexy, man of mans, macho hot motherfucker who wants to bed me. Like yesterday. When we spoke briefly on the phone to try and arrange a date, my voice went up three octaves. I became a five-year old. I then avoided him for weeks. He texted on Valentine's Day. I wrote back something stupid. He keeps trying to pin me down for a date, what will inevitably be a fuck-date, but here's the THING: I am fucking terrified.

This is not someone I could 'date' or fall in love with. This is a flaming hot fuck and I'm avoiding it like herpes. There is a big problem to begin with when it comes to this matter. It starts with, I refuse to get naked. Anywhere. With anyone. My heart starts racing just thinking about it. I am not going to get into the list of body issues/problems/plastic surgery needs because they are complicated, and I am not just being body-crazy. I have REAL problems and need REAL help. I have not been naked with anyone since my five disfiguring hip surgeries (re: I look like I've been attached by a husband and wife shark team), my daughter ate my breasts off, and I just noticed that if I am leaning down (i.e., on top of someone), my face sags in a way that is scary. Like the Boogie Man. Or Woman.

I am also frightened to death of his giant penis. It's been so long since I got near one, I definitely forgot how to give a blowjob. And the scarier thing is, I have no desire to. As a single mom doling out so much care, affection, and attention to a toddler, at the end of the day, I have nothing left. How'm I gonna lovingly carter to a large, feisty penis when I'm too beat to walk my dogs? There is not one cell in me that has any desire to DO THE WORK that it takes to be a decent lover. So why bother if I'm going to stink at it? I hate failing.

Which brings me back to Friday night. At home. Again. And about to get naked with the one person I have no qualms being naked in front of. That would be my daughter, Aria. We'll take our nightly bath together. Again. Get in our pj's and climb in my bed where we do a nightly ritual of lotion application to our toes and feet and legs. Read some books and go to sleep together. Again.

It's heaven, and that is so troubling to me I need to get back into therapy, STAT.

*I DID go out the other night, but it was a work thing. Needless to say it cost me $75 in babysitting dollars for just a few hours. A sex date lasts a long, long time. I can only imagine how much it will cost me to get laid.

MARCH 01, 2008

I'm watching IN TREATMENT as I'm writing this

and what i have to say is heavy, intense, depressing and most glaringly—an obvious cry that i need to get back to therapy. monday. or at least when i get a job writing on this show.

...anyway, here it goes, and just so you know the tv is on as i am in a rare relaxation mode, which means i'm also doing my nightly detective and tonight that means i am researching what the hell courtney cox did to her face—she looks ten years younger. and it's freaking me out… i want one.

what i mean is that i am multitasking as we speak, and i don't proofread.

so here it is: sometimes i think to myself...i am waiting for my real life to start. like, "well, when my real life starts, this will happen," "when my real life starts, that will happen" etc., etc...

here i am at the age of _____, thinking my life hasn't begun yet. this can't be a good thing. i sometimes still feel like a little kid in pajamas on the couch watching tv eating milk and cookies (maybe that's because i am doing exactly that right now). it's only partly metaphoric.

sometimes when I'm crossing the street or heading to the post office or peeing, i think, 'don't worry, it'll be better once my real life begins...won't it be fun when my real life begins? oh, yeah, that'll happen, i'll get that, i'll feel like that, i'll live like that when i get the life that i am waiting for, that is on the way, that i deserve, the one that will wipe out the one i am presently in, the one that is just a pin in the board of my real life that has yet to happen."

this may not be making sense to you, and i am, of course as usual, too tried to try and break it down right now.

but if you know what im talking about, please feel free to comment and share as i would love to know i am not the only one living my life this way. and i promise i will read what you have to say now, in this life, and maybe even get back to you in this life too.

column added on 2008-03-02 :: ::

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Emily Wagner

A born and bred New Yorker, Emily Wagner is an actress, writer, and artist who has been living in Los Angeles for the last 14 years. Along with writing for several publications, she also created, wrote, produced and starred in several short and feature films and has appeared in several feature films and television shows, most notably in the role of Doris Pickman, the perky paramedic on ER. Most recently, Emily starred in the film Chronic Town, which premiered at the Sundance 2008 Film Festival. Last year, Emily appeared in Stick It and Mr. Woodcock.

Emily is currently adapting her blog MOTHERHOODLUM into a TV series, which exposes the harsh, cold, anti-Babycenter truth of new motherhood. Emily, a lovable, trouble-making disaster of a new mom (played by Emily Wagner) desperately seeks a mommy tribe in L.A., and her journey is always ripe with high jinks and humor.

Read more of Emily's SINGLE MOTHER FU*KER! column.

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