Chasing White Rabbits

When people meet me after reading my blog, they often remark with surprise that I am not a redneck. Usually as they are saying this they are examining my appearance for any signs of evidence of a redneck lurking. I mean, up until last week I had all of my teeth and I've never once in my lifetime sported a mullet.

(I may have eaten roadkill once but it was a pheasant and it was fresh kill and it was delicious. Don't judge me.)

After their surprised declarations they almost always ask why I chose to brand myself with the redneck title.

My answer to that is often boring and uninspired (I wasn't thinking!) but the truth of the matter is, if you saw the apples I shook out of my family tree, there would be plenty of evidence as to why I chose that name.

(Although come to think of it, I should have just called myself a hoser and been done with it.)

It's always interesting meeting and introducing myself to new people. Especially when I am wearing dead gopher feet as my earrings.

Every time I wear them my dog gets freaked out. Wonder why.

But being the redneck mommy isn't all mortification and wide smiling to show I have had all my choppers. (Sigh.) It sometimes means I get to meet really cool and interesting people who, while never having tasted the sweet juices of a freshly roasted pheasant plucked from your truck's grill, are really cool.

People like Andy and Charlie.

People who get me.

And then draw me some really cool cartoons. Which happen to be unerringly accurate and if my Uncle Gord is reading this right now he'll be mighty pleased to see himself immortalized on my page.

It's like Andy has met my family. 

(click the image to make it bigger)

Usually when a new blogger meets me they just hand me their business card and ask me to drop by and read their work. Not Andy and Charlie though. They make me art a family portrait.

Part of the fun of being a blogger is meeting new people, discovering new blogs and finding new and creative ways with which to avoid folding your laundry, meeting your deadlines and paying attention to your farting dog.

Thanks to the How To Be a Dad crew I've fallen down their rabbit hole and haven't looked back since.

I'm chasing white rabbits and laughing the entire time.

I think I've found my peoples. Now if only they didn't have all their teeth.

*You can find Andy and Charlie writing about life and parenthood over here. They're worth the click. Promise.*

I Think I Owe My Dentist An Apology

I've never one to be embarrassed easily. I think part of that has to do with growing up with an older brother who took great glee in publicly tormenting me as often as possible and part of it has to do with watching my grown father chase a former boyfriend down the city sidewalk while bellowing obscenities and sporting nothing but some dirty tighty whities.

My skin, it is thick. Which makes it possible to regale my readers with odes of boob whiskers, blue nether regions and everything else that falls in between.

I've posed nude for a charity calendar while I was at my heaviest non-pregnancy weight ever. And I didn't blink.

I've walked around with an assortment of bad hair styles and colours, even once resembling a giant oreo cookie. And my ego remained intact.

I currently wear a training-sized bra and write about it on the internet and I'm cool with that.

But these past few days have been a challenge for me.

It's all fun and games until someone loses a tooth.

My vanity has taken a hit.

That's right dear internet, I finally found my threshold for embarrassment and it turns out toothlessness is the line.

That sucker is huge! As is the giant gaping hole in my mouth!

It's not that anyone can see my giant missing molar. Even when I smile my widest, all my teeth appear to be where they are supposed to be. But in my head, I know my dirty little secret.

I'm one tooth shy of a full smile. I've started down the road from a full set of choppers to the place where I become a toothless woman no one wants, begging hairy truckers in the back of a Walmart parking lot to let me give them gummers, five dollars a pop.

Okay, hopefully not.

However.

I'm becoming my father.

I've crossed the line from calling myself a redneck mommy into actually morphing into a real redneck.

I'm a .... toothless wonder. Just like my Jumbster.

Hi. I'm Tanis and I've an extra hole in my head.

And for once, I'm kinda embarrassed to type that out for the world to read.

Although, I'm probably not as embarrassed as my dentist was when I asked him if he was well practiced at tugging on things.

Or when, after rubbing vaseline on my lips, I made a flip remark about being lubed up and ready to go.

Turns out I can lose a tooth, just never my inappropriate sense of humour. Or my sense of shame.

Just ask my gynecologist. He'll tell you.

Call me Two Face

Let me just start with this: I love my husband. Obviously. I married him, remain married to him for over 14 years and mothered all four of his children happily and willing. I've let the man seen me naked more than once. I even play nice with his family. (For the most part.)

Love is not the issue.

We've got love.

But there is also something unspoken between the two of us.

Jealousy.

That's right. I'm a wee jealous of my husband.

There are a hundred little reasons, both real and imagined, but yes, I'm standing before you, admitting the shameful fact that I am, indeed, jealous of my lovely Boo.

The biggest reason that I'm jealous of my husband? He has all of his teeth and as of Monday, I'll be out one cracked rear molar. It's all down hill from here. I'm clearly on the path from calling myself a Redneck Mommy to actually embodying it. It all starts with losing one tooth until it ends with me toothless, offering gummers to hairy overweight truckers in a Walmart parking lot.

I'm also jealous that my husband does not currently look like this, nor does he have to see me looking like this:

Why yes that is me, first thing in the morning, with bed head, no makeup and a face full of alien baby. Sexy.

I can't escape myself. Every time I walk past a mirror, I crack up laughing and then start to cry. Because WHAT IF MY FACE STAYS THIS WAY FOREVER??

(For those concerned for my medical well being, I am under the care of well-trained professionals who plan on yanking the tooth in a few days after the swelling goes down. It's all under control. Except for that giant sac of pus threatening to swallow my face whole. Carry on. I know I am.)

So yes, I'm a wee jealous of my husband.

To hear some of the other, non-dental-related reasons, watch my Momversation video.

And then tell me if you are ever jealous of your significant other, or if I'm clearly on crack and need therapy.

Also, feel free to mock my face. Literally.

You can just call me Two Face. I'll flip a coin to decide your fate later.