Hey, moms! Are you sick of all the stupid movies where mothers are relegated to one of the three classic "Mom" character cinema tropes? You're either crazy psycho mom (um...Psycho), sexy and/or cool mom (Mean Girls, American Pie), or generic-bob-cut-in-a-cardigan-and-kahkis-mom. But now someone has had enough of that shit and built us a movie we can relate to, and that movie is Bad Moms.
Bad Moms opens July 29 and stars Mila Kunis, Christina Applegate, Kirsten Bell, and Kathryn Hahn — who I have crushed hard on since her turn as super-driven campaign manager Jennifer Barkley to Paul Rudd's "Bobby Newport" on Parks and Rec. From the looks of the Bad Moms trailer, it's definitely NSFW, but I DGAF. (Ultimately it really just depends on where you work, because where I work (cough, cough) we cannot get enough of this shit.) I've been watching it on loop since a co-worker shared it with me a few days ago.
Think you're having a bad day, Mom? Check out the first 45 seconds of the trailer and see what Kunis is up against before she finally decides enough is enough.
I'd pay $15 plus the inevitable nacho cheese tongue burn just to see the "never hard" balls bit on the big screen.
Who here hasn't at one time or another tired of all the competition in being perfect, even if it's never presented as such? I spent hours and hours of my life attempting to construct full scale replica Harry Potter cakes and Pinterest-worthy children's birthday parties before I realized that NO ONE CARES. If you like to do it, power to you. I'd rather put my energy into hitting some high notes during an impromptu kitchen dance party. Like the moms in Bad Moms, I am realizing that life itself is magical enough, and for the average nine year-old, two bags of chips, a pack of full fat hotdogs, some pop, and a couple of squirt guns does an awesome party make. I am definetly more "bad mom" than "good mom" according to the margins of this movie, and Bad Moms looks over the top, and yes, it's stereotypical in its own way. (Full disclosure: before I wrote this, I ate my lunch of Cinnamon Toast Crunch from a glass measuring cup with a silver relish spoon because I forgot to turn dishwasher on, again. So, you can see I give exactly zero fucks about portraying perfection in any form.) I also surround myself with real "bad" moms, including those who accidentally send cans of beer in children's lunches when they meant to grab a can of soda. They are my people, and our song is the sound of a clogged toilet and a puking child.
We wouldn't have it any other way.
Maybe we need to swing the motherhood perfection pendulum all the way in one direction in order establish balance, then let's go all balloon animal penis on this thing and enjoy the ride. The movie looks like it'll be good for a fun night out, and no one is saying "Oscar Buzz." I will say I'm a little frightened of all the pent up mom-rage energy that will be looking for an escape valve on opening night of this show. I kind of foresee it being like old-school viewing of The Rocky Horror Picture Show, where one throws all manner of items at the screen in relation to what scene is being portrayed. Just to be safe, for this one I'm loading up a duffel bag with pacifiers, beige nursing bras, and organic quinoa snack squares.
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Along with tens of thousands of other teenage girls, I loved Kirk Cameron in the 80s. (And to the likely dismay of Mr. Cameron, I'd venture a guess that many teenage boys set their Star Wars themed sheets afire with lust for him, also.) As the 80s wore on into the 90s and beyond, I changed. Growing Pains ended, I got older, and Kirk Cameron turned into a sexist wiener. Sunrise, sunset.
Cameron no longer supports "partying hard" like his sitcom persona Mike Seaver. Hey, that's cool. We all grow up and move on. Most of us change for the better, as we evolve and learn how the real world works and begin to define our own place within it. Cameron decided his place is standing on a better-than-thou soapbox using his celebrity to educate us plebes on the horrible sin in our lives because we accept "the gay" and maybe have loved ones who are trans or have non-binary identities. And now Cameron is in the news again with more terrible sounds emanating from his stupid sound-making hole. He's using valuable internet space normally populated by fat puppies in baskets and Beyonce/ Jay Z speculation or pulled pork videos. And he's using his platform to tell women that essentially, get back in the kitchen, laydeez, and be submissive to your husbands. You know what? Fuck off with that. The sexism comes in the automatic and unwavering belief that male = best and female = eh, okay I guess if you just stay quiet while I give final word.
Kirk Cameron and his wife can have any kind of marriage they want. If they want to define their spousal roles as submissive and dominant then power to you, Camerons. I wouldn’t come to your block party to watch the dynamic in action but I doubt I'd be invited anyway, since by your definition I'm a heathen because I tell my partner to do things like take out the garbage and put away the groceries and shovel the driveway and touch me there again yes, like that but harder.
In an interview with the Christian Post, Cameron said that marriage will only work if there are clearly defined roles, saying: “Wives are to honor and respect and follow their husband’s lead, not to tell their husband how he ought to be a better husband.” He adds, “When each person gets their part right, regardless of how their spouse is treating them, there is hope for real change in their marriage.”
Let’s unpack this, shall we? Let’s unpack this and light it on fire before throwing it off the back of the moving truck whilst relocating to a city far away from Cameron.
“Husband’s lead” is ambiguous. How does this apply to male/male or female/female marriages? It’s problematic even in a “conventional” marriage. What if my husband, who I am to honour and obey, leads me right off a cliff into a gutted ravine? Or worse; what if he leads me into a Home Depot on a Saturday?
And when it comes to “not telling their husband how to be a better husband,” I ask this, Mr. Cameron: If I don’t tell my husband how he can best please or support me, who will tell him? I don’t think I’m happy leaving that responsibility to the church or his softball league beer-pals. And yes; this works both ways. If there is something I can do to make my partner happy, I want to hear about it in a respectful, open, and trusting way before I tell him no way to a three-way.
When it comes to fair treatment, this part makes me especially twitchy: “...regardless of how their spouse is treating them.” My advice, and you can take it with a grain of salt, is that if you are being treated poorly, you should speak up when you can, leave if it’s bad and you’re able, and be supported in a non-judgmental way by your community if you can’t.
And unlike Cameron, I’d send that advice to any human person, despite their identity, underwear equipment, or societally constructed role.
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I’m a budget savvy gal — more from necessity than choice, but all the same, I like to do things as cheaply as possible. While certain items are easy to cut back on, like fresh vegetables or dental care, others are harder to eliminate from a modern lifestyle. Hair colouring, for instance. I am not quite ready to give into the grays, especially what with being so exhausted from my recent battle with the sags.
My natural hair colour falls somewhere on the colour scale between “eldery deer mouse” and “dish water,” and once you add in some grey at the roots, and it’s a bit of a horror show. I haven’t bought make-up in months, and I use an Avon roll-on deodorant I found in a church basement, but I will fight gray hair with the strength and conviction of an army from someplace with a really strong and convinced army.
I'd love to have my hair tended to professionally, but I have children with orthodontic needs and one just started driving school so money is a bit tight and by "tight" I mean I've forgotten what placing a food order with an actual person and not by shouting "I said 'CHEESEBURGER'" into plastic clown's mouth feels like. Legal salons run by qualified staff can charge upwards of $100 for a good hair colour. $100 buys a lot of other stuff, and if you’re like me and looking to save money, then home hair colouring is for you.
But if you’re going to do it, you might as well do it right. So use my experiences — both good and bad — and take my advice.
1. First, put the booze away. Failed wine pairing? Cabernet Sauvignon and home hair colour.
2. Don’t pick a shade after a breakup or other major life change. You’ll be tempted to go Midnight Black when you’re a natural blonde, or vice versa. If you must make a big decision to mark this new phase in your life, choose something without consequence, like quitting your job or adopting a baby.
3. Pick a colour that sounds like something you’d either eat or a stripper you'd sleep with. If possible, try for both. Example: Rich Chocolate Mousse? Check! Dark Mystery? Check! Yellow Puddles? Nooo.
4. Don’t forget to do the back. Hey, it happens.
5. Wear appropriate clothing, because you are going to drip. I like to wear the dress from my first wedding. If you’re happily married and love your wedding dress, wear it anyway. You’ll be extra careful because of the obstacle and probably won’t spill a drop.
6. Use professional grade tools. Go to the beauty outlet store and buy a mixing bowl and a brush. An old margarine tub and BBQ brush weren't built for this kind of pressure.
7. Plan ahead just in case, and buy a funky hat. Or a pretty hat. Or a crocheted beer can hat. You’ve saved at least $100 colouring your hair at home, so go on; treat yourself!
8. Do not buy your hair colour from the drug store discount rack or a garage sale. Anyone who has 14 boxes of Clairol “Big Red” 344 on a folding table in their driveway had less than appropriate plans for it and you don’t need that karma on your head. Literally.
9. If possible, colour your hair in natural light. I prefer the front porch. This also allows me to yell at neighbourhood children, and garner colour opinions from passerby. That’s called “multi-tasking” and that’s why I am awesome at giving tips. You’re welcome.
10. Like any fun at-home activity, rubber gloves and Vaseline are a must.
11. Double check that your timer works. I had to live with bright orange hair for a weekend once when I accidentally pressed “Side of Beef” instead of “Popcorn” on the microwave auto-timer.
12. Rinse your hair well. A fast food restaurant Pokémon cup and the kitchen tap aren’t going to cut it here. Let your kids use the garden hose; if you’re following my advice you’re already outside anyway.
Now go show off your new colour to the world! If you’ve observed my tips then you’re wearing a pretty dress and have a new beer can hat, so you’re pretty much set for any occasion.
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