Things They Failed To Tell Me BEFORE I Decided To Become a Parent #456,789:

Things They Failed To Tell Me BEFORE I Decided To Become a Parent #456,789: While it may seem like a good idea to do so at the time…no matter how late you let you kids stay up at night, they will STILL wake up, chockful of energy, at the crack of freaking dawn.
Without fail.
Every f#*king time.
110% guaranteed.


Do As I Say, Not As I Do…

Camryn, 7: “I can’t find my shoes anywhere!”
Olivia, 5: “Hmmm. I see them right there by the door, Camryn. Maybe next time you should look WITH YOUR EYES. Now are you ready to go? Wait. Let me rephrase that. We are leaving now. Let’s go little lady.”
Mommy: (hangs head in shame at how dumb she must sound sometimes while simultaneously being super grateful Olivia stepped in and took one for the team on this one)

Just Listen The First Damn Time…

Overheard ’round these parts at least 86 times a day in some form or another…

Mommy: “Olivia, please don’t wrestle with the cat!”
Mommy: “Olivia, stop making the cat breakdance on the kitchen table!”
Mommy: “Olivia, stop swinging the cat around by his tail!”
Mommy: “Olivia! Put down the damn scissors! The cat does NOT need his whiskers trimmed!”
Mommy: “Oliiiviiiiaaa! Get the cat out of the bathtub right now! He doesn’t want to take a bath with you.”
Mommy: Olivia! For the love of god! Just listen the first time I ask and leave that freaking feline alone!!”
Olivia: “Geesh, Mom. You don’t have to be so nasty about it.”

What To Really F#*king Expect…

Finally. It’s here. The book that reveals all those harsh truths they fail to tell you BEFORE you decide to get pregnant. Presenting…
What to Really F#*king Expect When You Are Expecting.

1. Expect your breasts and areolas will grow three sizes overnight, ache and throb like it’s their job, and will soon end up pouring out of the top of your bra.
2. Expect you will suddenly spot cellulite on random parts ofyour body that you never even knew could get cellulite on them.
3. Expect you will find yourself saying a desperate prayer that you don’t pee in your pants every single time you have to cough, sneeze, laugh, breathe or bend over to pick something up.
4. Expect you will be plagued by morning, mid-morning, early afternoon, late afternoon and evening sickness that leaves you dry heaving over the porcelain throne.
5. Expect you will emit gas from both ends of your body that sound and smell so bad it shall rivals that of a 400 pound man’s flatulence after he has ingested a super sized bowl of beans.
6. Expect you will be able to almost hear the sound of your regular jeans yelling “f#*k you!” as you force them over your expanding belly and have to finally give in to wearing those super high-waisted, super awkward looking, and straight up super hideous maternity jeans that scream unsexy.
7. Expect you will see no other choice but to give in to the nagging cravings for egg salad on an everything bagel, sauerkraut, mustard, green olives, and orange juice which are not always, but on occasion, all consumed together in one sitting.
8. Expect you will discover you are gaining weight so fast that you swear you can feel yourself getting fatter by the minute. This is confirmed by both the number on the scale and your five-year-old child incessantly asking you why you are getting so fat.
9. Expect you will no longer have the ability to see anything past your huge belly to perform that much needed weekly check to see if your legs are hairier than your husband’s and desperately in need of a shave.
10. Expect you will now have a complete understanding of the nightmare that is hemorrhoids which, without a shadow of a doubt, were sent straight from the devil above to torture pregnant women all over the world.

How To Get Your Kid’s Attention…


Dear Mommy,

I admire your courage and determination in attempting to sit down, pour yourself a glass of water, pick up the phone, crack open that secret stash of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream that is housed in the way, way back of the freezer and strategically hidden under that box of Elio’s pizza, or actually, trying to do anything at all that doesn’t directly involve me. I give you an “E” for effort, but alas, here I am yet again with my endless list of demands in hand. Let’s get to work meeting MY needs now, shall we?

With Love and Occasional Gratefulness,
Your Super High-Maintenance Toddler

The Christmas List…

Camryn, 7: “Mom, I decided to write my Christmas List a little early this year. So, here it is. But don’t read it til it’s closer to Christmas.”

And just like that I welcomed the reminder that in between the tantrums, the talking back, the messy rooms, the endless whining, the never-ending demands for more juice, the requests for less broccoli, and the begging to have a second scoop of ice cream at dessert…I suddenly remembered how awesome this whole motherhood thing can actually be sometimes. How straight up freaking awesome it can be.

Mommy Pet Peeve #457:

Mommy Pet Peeve #457…this shit right here.
And to all those candy toting strangers who obviously don’t have kids of their own but for some reason always feel the damn need to sugar mine up, send them on their way, and cause them to drive me even more batshit crazy than normal…cut that shit out. Please and thank you.

Not-So-Proud, Yet True Mommy Confession #112,013:

I may or may not have been guilty of this very act by 8:03 am this morning, because sometimes a fifteen minute long category five tantrum over which socks the five-year-old will wear to camp can put even the best parent over the f#*king ledge.

Mommy Epiphany #45,998:


Sometimes you just stumble upon one of those moments that make you stop in your tracks and realize sometimes it’s the little things that are truly the big things in life.
This was my moment today.
What was yours?

Dear Mommy McIgnorant…

Because there’s always one in the damn crowd.
Without fail.
Every f#”*king time.

Rocking Out In The Supermarket…

Because really, other than the kickass sale on frozen mini waffles, what’s better than listening to the sweet sounds of the instrumental version of Poison’s “Every Rose Has Its Thorn” while crusing down aisle #6?

Curse Words…

Camryn, 7: “Hey mom, you know we should probably just trade in our dogs for different dogs, because all the other dogs in the world know they have to piss and shit OUTSIDE, but for some reason, our dogs always piss and shit INSIDE the house.”

Mommy: “Because number one, our dogs were sent here by the devil himself to make my life sheer hell and number two, you aren’t allowed to say the word shit. That’s Mommy’s job.”

Dear Mommy McPerfect…

Dear Mommy McPerfect,

All that wearing wrinkle-free clothes that match perfectly, a flawless hairdo, perfect makeup, and sending your kid off to school with a lunch that rivals that of a five star chef’s signature meal every damn day.
You’re making us look bad.
So, cut that shit out.
Please and thank you.

Mommy Not-So-Perfect

Mommy’s Official List of The Top Ten Worst Birthday Party Favors…

Mommy’s Official List of The Top Ten Worst Birthday Party Favors…
1. A HARMONICA…that my child can and will play extremely loud and with every ounce of energy they can muster up, while I attempt to maintain what is left of my sanity.
2. A BLUE RING POP…that my child will eat and manage to cover their mouth, hands, fingers, and clothes in blue stains that will take days, if not weeks, to finally fade.
3. PLAY DOH…that my child will smoosh into their carseat, my carseats, their hair and ultimately, into their mouth.
4. LIP GLOSS…that my child will use to apply generous gobs of to their entire face necessitating me to wash their face not one, not two, but fourteen times to remove it all.
5. WHISTLE…that my child will blow, repeatedly, leaving with me severe ringing in both of my ears that will annoy me until the next damn birthday party rolls around.
6. KAZOO…that my child will whine about not knowing how to use and then not stop for hours once they finally figure out how to make that annoying humming noise from hell.
7. CHOCOLATE AND PEANUT BUTTER CANDY…that my child will have no choice but to surrender to me and my peanut buttery chocolate loving belly and completely sabotage my latest diet.
8. BUBBLES…that my child will undoubtedly wind up spilling on themselves, their shoes, and a large portion of the backseat of the car.
9. CHEWING GUM…that my child will chew for approximately two minutes until it loses it’s flavor, forget to place in a wrapper and then step in it guaranteeing the floor of the car will never be the same.
10. A BAG OF CHEESE DOODLES…that my child will eat and then use the neon orange powdery residue on their fingers to grafitti every surface they come in contact with for the next three hours.

Three Foot Tall Warriors…

The chaos.
The craziness.
The sheer insanity.
And the three feet tall warriors who can turn an entire house upside down in five minutes flat.
Yep, that’s all me.

I Wasn’t Supposed To…

Because I wasn’t supposed to forget to count to ten before yelling at the kids for something that probably didn’t really require yelling at all.
Because I wasn’t supposed to spend that half hour folding laundry, unloading the dishwasher and vacumming the floors when I could have joined in and been the green guy in a game of Candyland instead.
Because I wasn’t supposed to overreact and scream like a lunatic when I spotted her getting ready to swan dive off of her dresser while dancing to some horrible Pitbull song.
Because I wasn’t supposed to reply with an annoyed and gruff “I don’t know” when she asked me question number 45,674 of the day which inquired about the life of a llama.
Because I wasn’t supposed to use phrases such as, “You better watch that attitude little lady” and “For God’s sake can I please have just five damn minutes of quiet?!”
Because I wasn’t supposed to let a handful of “Oh shit’s” and a couple of F bombs slip in their presence.
Because I wasn’t supposed to completely lose my patience and hurry them to bed just so I could go crawl into mine.
Because I wasn’t supposed to sit alone in the silence once they had finally fallen asleep and swear to myself that tomorrow I will be the kind of mom I hoped to be when I woke up this morning.
Luckily, there’s always tomorrow.
A new day.
With no mistakes in it…

The Unwelcomed Houseguest…

True story.
Slightly disturbing, yet very true story.
And with an extremely high possibility of me eating any and all chocolate you have in your house.
Careful what you wish for.

You Know You’re Getting Too Old Too F#*”king Fast When…

Camryn, 7: “Hey Mom…what is this thing?”
Mommy: “It’s a VHS tape of my wedding.”
Camryn, 7: “Um, ok. Well, what do you do with it?”
Mommy: “You watch it.”
Camryn, 7: “Like how? Is this from the old days when you were really little? Like when TV was in black and white? Do you put it in some sort of box or something to watch it?”
Mommy: “Yep. Exactly. A dinosaur delivered a box at the door of our cave and we all sat around and watched black and white VHS movies together.”
Camryn: “I knew it.”


…And today I bravely take on the role of camp counselor…

Welcome to Camp Mommy.
Day 1 of 5.
Today’s lesson is how to conquer a mile long to do list.
With the bribe of a trip to the movies thrown into the mix for cooperation, good behavior and minimal whining.

Mini Me’s…

Except when they’re whining, doing something wrong or being straight up annoying…then not so much.
On those occasions, we blame Daddy’s genes.

Reese’s Penises…

This may or may not have been the highlight of my day. I may or may not need to think about finally growing up and acting like a respectable adult already…

Olivia, 5: “Mommy, Mommy! I just saw a commercial on tv and we so have to go to Hershey Park for a trip! You know why?”
Mommy: “No, enlighten me.”
Olivia, 5: “You might not even believe this but they really said they have REESE’S PENISES there! We so have to go!”
Mommy: (gasping for air while laughing so hard she comes frighteningly close to peeing in her pants) “Why yes dear. It seems we do have to go there then.”

Consider Yourself Warned, Little Lady…

Dear Back-Talking Sassy Pants Daughter of Mine,

Did ya see that? That was Mommy’s last ounce of patience flying right out of the damn window. Now cut that back talking shit out. Like now. Consider yourself lucky to have received this warning. However, it’s most likely your last of the day so choose your words wisely, little lady.

With Love,

The Favorite Child of The Day Award…

And the award for my favorite child of the day goes to the one who did NOT feel the need to tell me, “Um, Mommy, ya know? When you walk your legs shake” as I was getting dressed this morning.
Because if you don’t laugh, you’ll cry.

Parenthood Mystery #45,798:

Your child claims to always hate and straight up refuses to eat whatever it is you busted your ass to serve them for dinner…until approximately an hour later when he/she comes across you enjoying your very own plate of that same food at which time they suddenly decide they now love chicken parmesan and in the blink of an eye half of your meal is g-o-n-e.
Without fail.
Every f#*king time.
At just about every f#*king meal.

Motherhood: Taking Exhausted To New Levels.

Dear Kids,
As the day comes to a close, please let it be duly noted that Mommy is quickly approaching levels of sheer exhaustion never experienced before. Please stand back at least 500 feet for the remainder of the evening and obey all commands to go to bed without the need to exit your rooms for “emergencies” such as another cup of water, to kiss the dog goodnight or beg for just one more storybook. Consider this your warning. And don’t forget, even when Mommy can barely see straight, stand up, form a coherent sentence or remember your name…she still loves you.

With Love,

Summer Vacation…

And just like that it has crept up on me once again.
Summer vacation is officially here.
Just the thought puts me one step closer to insanity.
Let the fun begin…

I Think I Can…

keep calm
Only two hours, twenty-seven minutes and fifteen seconds to go until my own personal version of happy hour or better known as that heavenly hour of peace and quiet between when the kids finally go to bed and I finally get to crawl into my own bed.
But hey, who’s counting?
This lady right here.
That’s who.
I think I can. I think I can…

Oh, You Want The Wifi Password?


Dear Kids,

I desperately want a day free of having to endure listening to you whine, talk back and question each and everything I say. You want the wifi password. Do your part and I’ll do mine. Any questions?

With Love,

Happy Father’s Day


Wishing all the Dads, Grandpas, and Uncles a happy, happy Father’s Day filled with whatever it is that makes you smile…

Twenty Things A Father Should Tell His Daughter…
1) Pay attention to the way a man loves his mother. That is the way he will love you.

2) You can do anything a man can do, including organic chemistry, unclogging toilets and assembling IKEA furniture.

3) Older women wear makeup so THEY can look like YOU. Less is more. A lot less is a lot more.

4) People will judge you by the way you look. It isn’t fair, but it’s the way the world works. Keep that in mind as you pick your outfit in the morning.

5) Never let anyone do your thinking for you. There are far too many people with far too much invested in you believing what they believe.

6) Liberal arts grow your mind. Science and business keep you fed. You will need both.

7) Nothing is more attractive than intelligence.

8) Learn to drive a stick-shift.

9) Get comfortable with power tools.

10) You don’t have to enjoy them, but have a working knowledge of the rules for football and baseball.

11) Know the difference between Star Wars and Star Trek, and the key players in both.

12) You don’t have to *DO* anything for someone to love you. The right person will cross a desert just for the chance to sit next to you at lunch.

13) Peer pressure is all about insecurity. Be confident in who you are and you’ll never have to “fit in”. People will come to you.

14) The fastest way to strain a relationship with a man is to bring up old drama. We can’t remember to hang up the bath towel. What makes you think we remember that stupid thing we did 6 months ago?

15) If a man genuinely loves you, he will let you set the boundaries. Don’t let anyone take something from you they can’t give back. You set the tone for the sexual relationship.

16) Feminie hygiene products — Where our daughters are concerned, we would be very happy sticking our fingers in our ears and saying “lalalalalalalala”. Please respect our need to pretend they, and the reason for them, do not exist. The same goes for lacy underthings.

17) You were flawless the day you were born. If you must go get that first tattoo, please consider inviting your daddy to come and get his first tattoo with you.

18) You are perfect the way you roll out of bed. Let’s be clear: all that crap you do to “get out the door” is for everyone else’s benefit.

19) Though he may be smiling on the outside, when you leave for college your father is falling apart on the inside. Don’t forget to call him that first night to tell him you love him.

20) Compare every single boy you ever meet to your daddy. Nobody will love you like he does.


Mommy of the Year 2013 Slipping From My Hands…

Yep. All day today. This gal right here. Damn it.

A Reminder…

Ever have one those days when you repeatedly lose your patience, scream so loud it would make Mommie Dearest shudder with fear, and then head off to bed overwhelmed with Mommy guilt while swearing up and down tomorrow you will do a better job?
Yeah, me too.
Like, today.
But then sometimes, out of nowhere, a little something happens to make you stop, take a deep breath and realize that maybe you aren’t really doing such a shitty job after all…

Top Ten Names My Daughters Would Like Me To Give To Their Baby Brother…


1. Angus (as in beef as well as some male character on some random Nickelodeon show they are obsessed with this week)
2. Ash (as in some weird looking guy from that super weird and extremely disturbing Pokeman cartoon)
3. Kipper (as in so they can say his name with a thick British accent like they do in that cartoon about a dog named Kipper)
4. Trevor (as in because they have a friend who has a baby brother who is “cute and doesn’t cry a lot” who is named this)
5. Chuck (as in a tribute to their favorite Peanuts character, Charlie Brown)
6. Sacagawea (as in the Native American they recently learned about in school and can’t get enough of hearing themselves say it over and over and over again)
7. Oshawott (as in another freaky looking Pokemon character with another freaky name who speaks in tongues)
8. Chocolate Chip Cookie (as in because “everyone loves chocolate chip cookies, right?”)
9. Timmy Turner (as in the irritating, buck-toothed main character on that annoying show, The Fairly Odd Parents)
10. Shutup (as in “so when the teacher asks him what his name is he gets to tell her to shutup”)
*Any and all ideas for baby boy names, except any of the ones listed, are welcomed and encouraged. Go. Please and thank you.

Mommy’s Official Top 10 List of Things I Miss Most From My Pre-Mommy Days…

Mommy’s Official Top 10 List of…
Things I Really Miss Most From My Pre-Mommy Days:
1. Going to the bathroom by myself without pint sized spectators commenting on and questioning the odor and duration of my bowel movements.
2. Eating my favorite salad without my mom guilt forcing me to say yes when asked ever so sweetly to surrender my croutons, bacon bits, chunks of cheese, olives or any other of my favorite ingredients.
3. Waking up to the sound of an alarm clock with the first number greater than a 6 rather than being startled awake by two mini rockstars in training performing full-volume on the radio style karaoke at 5:12 am to “Sexy and I Know It.”
4. Listening to my favorite not-at-all-kid friendly music at a way too loud volume while driving and not having to strategically lower the volume at each swear word.
5. Comfortably wearing a pair of single digit sized jeans without that damn muffin top pouring over the top of the waistband.
6. Having the ability to leave the house in a timely fashion without having to wait an extra thirty-seven minutes for someone to gather up their three biggest stuffed animals, six books, a green marker, a plastic tambourine, and thirteen Pokeman cards for the ten minute car ride to the store.
7. Being able to eat candy, cookies, ice cream and other sugary treats at my leisure without the worries of having to share and/or fend off beggars with my spoon or bare hands.
8. Food shopping without having to maneuver a cart that has 100+ pounds of children hanging off the side of it and not having the task of fishing out 3 boxes of Double Stuff Oreos, 2 packages of marshmallows and a king sized bag of M and M’s right before checkout time.
9. Being able to finish a book in less than six months time and avoid $35.80 in highly embarrassing library overdue fines.
10. And last, but not least, and possibly the most missed thing of all from my pre-mommy days, is being able to laugh, sneeze or cough without the fear of pissing my f#*king pants.

I’m An Addict…

My name is Mommy and I’m a Candy Crush addict…

We’ll See, But Count On Hell’s No…

Camryn, 7: “Hey Mom, you know where we haven’t been in a really long time?”
Mommy: “Where’s that, Cam?”
Camryn, 7: “Chuck E. Cheese.”
Camryn, 7: “So what do you say? Can we go tomorrow?”
Mommy: “We’ll see.”
“Which actually translates to… f#*k no! Because there’s no f#*king way in hell I’m stepping foot into that no good dirty rodent Chuck’s germ factory today, tomorrow, or ever again. Oh, and Mommy loves you.”

Olivia Gace, er Grace…


Mommy’s Epiphany of the Day #45,678:
While sifting through the 1,567+ worksheets, coloring pages, and school notices in Olivia’s folder this afternoon, I stumbled upon this gem. And while I find it rather impressive that my five-year-old knows of and can properly spell the word inquisitive, I also find it rather entertaining that she has yet to master that there’s an “r” in her middle name.
Damn, I love this kid.
Even if she can’t spell Grace.

21+ Questions…


*The following is just a small…very, very, very small, sampling of the plethora of questions posed to me by five-year-old Olivia at some point during the day today. Apparently, I am not only a Mommy, but also a f#*king encyclopedia of information on everything and anything….including Justin Beaver.

Why is Daddy so hairy?
Will I be hairy when I grow up too?
Um, how come sometimes when I push really hard to make a fart poopy slips out into my underwear?
Can I just have one more Oreo even though that will make it seven all together in my belly?
I know you said go to bed like an hour ago, but is it okay if I just ask you one last really, super important question about that new Justin Beaver song first?
Mommy, why aren’t you answering me…..?
Mommy, are you listening?
Mom, mommy, ma, mama, mum, mummy, mom!?”



What’s your idea of a kickass momcation?

Some other examples of a momcation include, but are not limited to the following…
1. eating a salad without little hands swiping the bacon bits before you have a chance to indulge in the tasty morsels of goodness
2. completing a telephone call from start to finish without having to repeatedly apologize to the caller for the obnoxiously loud, whining children tugging on your leg in the background
3. Enjoying the sweet, sweet sounds of silence and the absence of hearing the word “mommy” for more than three minutes straight

It’s a Boy!

Top Ten Reasons I am Secretly Panicking About Giving Birth To A Baby Boy…
1. He has a weiner.
2. I don’t even know where the hell the boy section is in Target.
3. I have compiled a list of twenty-seven girl names I love. I don’t even have a list of boy names but if I did it would have zero names on it.
4. He has a weiner.
5. I know all there is to know about princesses, Justin Beiber, fairies, and have finally mastered the art of recreating the latest braid hairstyles. I know nothing about and have absolutely no interest in learning about Thomas the Train, Star Wars, G.I. Joe and bugs.
6. I have an attic filled with bins that are overstuffed with baby clothes. Every single item of clothing and matching accessory is some shade of pink and/or purple and most likely has glitter on it.
7. I’m already having nightmares and cold sweats about the whole being attacked by streams of piss during diaper changes thing I’ve been hearing so much about amongst other mommies of boys.
8. He has a weiner.
9. Boy clothes only seem to come in navy blue, baby blue, red, or black and rarely come with adorable, fun accessories such as shimmery headbands, flower hair clips, and sparkly shoes. BORING.
10. W-E-I-N-E-R.

When Kids Scream…Like Raving Lunatics Over Nothing At All…

Mommy: (running, at full speed, towards the children’s shrieks while experiencing the beginnings of a full blown panic attack) “Oh my god! What happened? What’s the matter? Who’s hurt? Why are you screaming like a raving lunatic loud enough for people four towns over to hear you?”
Camryn, 7: “Well Mom, it’s really, really bad this time. Olivia won’t give me a turn on the swing.”

Friday Night…Mommy Style.

Woo hoo! It’s Friday night up in here!
Which means one thing and one thing only.
Absolutely nothing.
Because I am a parent.
So, bring on the pizza, the beer, the old DVR’d episodes of bad reality tv and falling asleep on the couch by 9:12 pm.
This is the living on the edge.
This is Friday night, ya’ll…
Mommy style.

The Real Status Update…

What Their Facebook Status Says:
“What a wonderful day my perfect little angels and I had today. We all awoke super early so we could get out and enjoy a perfect day filled with rainbows, sunshine, butterflies, and unicorns. We had so much fun prancing through a field of perfect daisies, discussing such thought-provoking topics such as why the sky is blue and how come puppies are so cute. At bedtime, we leisurely chatted about how absolutely fabulous and perfect our day will be again tomorrow in the land of make believe.”

What Their Facebook Status Really Means:
“I woke up to two children screaming at each other like rabid animals over which tv show to watch at 5:58 am. Again. I spent the rest of the day refereeing thier constant battles, cleaning up after their messes, doing their laundry, taming their countless meltdowns and tantrums, answering all of their 457,339 questions about such topics as, why they are not allowed to eat chocolate cake for breakfast everyday, why Justin Bieber and Selena Gomez broke up, and why girls have a pagina but boys have that stick thingy with those two round things under it. When my prayers were answered and bedtime finally rolled around, I was too damn tired to discuss what tomorrow will bring for us, but all signs point to an instant replay of today’s bullshit because that’s how us not-so-perfect moms roll in the land of motherhood.”

Because It’s NEVER A Good Time…

Mommy: (somehow manages to both hear the phone ringing over the cacophony of sounds in the house and locate it before the answering machine picks up)
Random Caller: “Hello? Hello? Can you hear me, ma’am?”
Mommy: “Yep. Loud and clear.”
Random Caller: “Wow. Sounds like this is a really bad time for you, eh?”
Mommy: “Well, since you asked. No. And it ain’t going to get much better than this and beggars can’t be choosers, so it’s really now or never, sir. So, let’s have it.”
Random Caller: (awkward silence)
Mommy: (click)

Because I’m The Mom…


Dear Kids,
Why won’t I let you have seconds for dessert, get a pet pony and name it Buttercup, take monthly trips to Disneyworld, watch the entire Spongebob Squarepants marathon on tv, stay up four hours past your bedtime, have a full-fledged dance party at 6:02 am, or have access to my secrect stash of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream? Well, it’s pretty simple so here goes…I’m the mom and f#*king said so. And that’s one to grow on little ones.

With Love Always,

The Official List of Top Ten Reasons I Was a Good Mom Today…


The Official List of Top Ten Reasons I Was a Good Mom Today…

1. I fed the kids breakfast, lunch, and dinner…even though I just did it yesterday.
2. I sacrificed most, if not all, the whipped cream off the top of my ice cream sundae so that my five-year-old daughter could have double on hers.
3. I particpated in an in-depth, detailed conversation with my seven year old about which One Direction member is the cutest and why while sitting on the toilet behind a locked bathroom door trying to take care of my business.
4. I didn’t begin yelling about such things as messy rooms, dirty clothes on the floor, and orange cheese puff stains on the wall until the clock struck 11:42 AM, which is a new world record around these parts.
5. I answered all 465,986 of five-year-old Olivia’s questions today without losing my patience, yet in all honesty was dangling off the ledge by question number 32 about why the cat’s butthole is always showing because her tail sticks straight up.
6.Though begrudgingly, while riding in the car, I gave into the kids’ pleas to turn off my all time favorite Jay Z song so they could listen to Demi Lovato whine about having a heart attack on the other radio station.
7. Rather than blow a gasket and pull a Mommie Dearest over it, I chose to take a deep breath, count to ten and remind myself that all it takes is one good scrubbing in the tub to get rid of all the mud the kids manged to get on every square inch of their bodies while playing “mud pie restaurant” in the backyard.
8. I played not one, not two, but seven rounds of Chutes and Ladders. In a row. There is no other board game I loathe
more than Chutes and Ladders. And none that lasts longer.
9. I let both kids stay up fifteen minutes past their bedtime just because they were so freaking cute snuggling up against me as I read them bedtime stories that I couldn’t bear to let the moment go so fast.
10. Although I can think of and am giving it my all not to obsess over the at least fifty things I did today that make me feel like I was a bad mom, I created this list to remind myself that even though everyday may not be good, there’s something good in everyday. And that tomorrow’s another day. And even though it will most likely be peppered with some yelling, some patience being lost, and lots of Mommy guilt, it’s going to be a good one.

One Bad Bitch…

Throw in some laundry getting done, the dishwasher getting unloaded, the bedsheets getting changed, dinner getting cooked, and both kids in bed without any “emergency exits” by 8:03 pm… and just like that I’m feeling like a s-u-p-e-r f#*king bad bitch today.
I am Mommy. Hear me roar. Like a boss.

The Precious Things…

To My Two Precious Children,

Thank you for making me realize I have reserves of patience I never knew any human coud possibly have in order to deal with your category 5 tantrums, whining, and endless questions about why the sky is blue, where babies come from, and why it is just not ok to have half a box of Oreo’s and a side of chocolate pudding for dinner. Thank you for enlightening me that even though I can’t see straight and slur my words all day long, I can pretty much on less than an hour’s worth of sleep. Thank you for making me so insane that I don’t even miss my sanity anymore. And last, but not least, thank you for your company and poop-themed jokes each and every time my ass hits the toilet seat to take care of business.

Forever Grateful,
Your Exhausted, Impatient, Certifiably Crazy, Stinky Poop Making Mom

Things They Fail To Tell You BEFORE You Become a Parent #467:

You may one day receive a phone call from the school nurse to inform you that while at lunch, your child came up with the awesome idea to shove an orange seed into her ear canal and was super successful at getting it wedged so far in there, that the remainder of your day will be spent sitting at the doctor’s to have it removed and after the f#*king copay has been paid, you will become be the not-so-proud owner of a $40.00 orange seed.
And that’s one to grow on…

Dare To Dream…

Because one day…
I WILL take a trip to the bathroom by myself, eat the olives in my salad before two grubby little hands are able to swipe them, watch a tv show not geared for the seven and under set, and update my Facebook status in peace.
Maybe not today. Probably not tomorrow.
But one day.
Because dreams really do come true…right?

Mommy’s Official List of The Top Ten Most Annoying Children’s TV Shows…


It has rained all day today. And so in typical rainy day fashion, the tv has gotten quite a workout ’round these parts today. My brain is currently on overload as the super irritating sounds that can only be heard on super annoying children’s television shows echo through my head.
This brush with complete and utter insanity led me to dig up the following…

Mommy’s Official List of The Top Ten Most Annoying Children’s TV Shows and Why They Suck As Much As They Do…

1. Calliou – Because if I really want to listen to a whiny kid, I can just turn the tv off and listen to my own.
2. Max and Ruby – Because while watching the bossy pants big sister tell her brother what to do I am continuously wondering where the hell are thier damn parents to put her ass in a time out?
3. Wonder Pets – Because no children’s show should teach kids it’s ok to speak like a fuzzy little duckling with a terrible speech impediment that gets around in a flying boat.
4. Dora The Explorer and/or Go Diego Go – Because there just aren’t too many things that are creepier than that way they stare at you while waiting you to answer their asinine questions, such as, Have you seen the pygmy marmoset in the jungle?
5. Mickey Mouse Clubhouse – Because the sound of Mickey calling out to that Toodles contraption is enough to make my skin crawl.
6. Spongebob – Because any show that teaches my young impressionable kids to incorporate such words as diarrhea, stupid and idiot into their everyday vocabulary is an epic fail in my book.
7. The Wiggles – Because when that happy-go-lucky quartet of men begin singing a song about fruit salad being yummy, yummy I contemplate punching the tv screen.
8. Teletubbies – Because brightly colored, alien-esque looking creatures with shapes on their heads who speak in some weird, disturbing language simply scare the living shit out of me.
9. Veggie Tales – Because when vegetables begin singing songs that preach about god and loving thy neighbor I have no choice but to forcefully hit the power button the tv.
10. Barney – Because any show that stars an oversized, purple, talking dinosaur dancing around with “kids” who are clearly way too old to even be on the show deserves to be criticized, ridiculed and boycotted by parents everywhere.

Patience Reserves Are LOW!


Dear Kids,
Alert! Alert! Mommy’s patience reserves are at an all-time low.
I repeat.
Patience reserves are dangerously low today.
Please refrain from any whining and be sure to remain at least 500 feet away all times throughout the day.
Consider this your warning.

With Love,

Living On the Edge…

Pushing the limits tonight. It’s 9:25 pm and I am still awake.
Who’s living on the edge this Friday night?
This crazy lady right here.
That’s who.

Hell Hath No Fury Like A Pissed Off Mom…

Dear Obnoxious, Super Irritating and Straight Up Ignorant Lady Who Felt It Necessary to Scream at My Kids to Stop Walking On The Edge of Her Lawn After School Today When They Were Simply Trying to Avoid Stepping Into Oncoming Traffic,

Expect us again tomorrow. Same time. Same lawn. But this time we’ll have the dog with us too. And I guarantee you that little furball WILL shit on your lawn and give you something to really bitch about. Consider yourself warned. Just saying.

Hell Hath No Fury Like A Pissed Off Mom

Top Ten Reasons I Know I’ve Got a Bun In the Oven…


Top Ten Reasons I Know I’ve Got a Bun In the Oven…
1. My breasts and areolas have grown three sizes overnight, ache and throb like it’s their job, and are now pouring out of the top of my bra.
2. I have suddenly spotted cellulite on random parts of my body I never even knew could get cellulite on them.
3. I find myself saying a desperate prayer I don’t pee in my pants every single time I cough, sneeze, laugh, breathe or bend over to pick something up.
4. I am plagued by morning, mid-morning, early afternoon, late afternoon and evening sickness that leaves me dry heaving over the porcelain throne.
5. I am emitting gas from both ends of my body that sounds and smells so bad it rivals that of a 400 pound man’s flatulence.
6. I can almost hear my regular jeans yelling “f#*k you!” as I force them over my expanding belly and have to finally give in to wearing those super high-waisted, super awkward looking, and straight up super hideous maternity jeans.
7. I truly see no other choice but to give in to the nagging cravings for egg salad on an everything bagel, green olives, and orange juice which are not always, but on occasion, all consumed together in one sitting.
8. I discovered I am gaining weight so fast I swear I can feel myself getting fatter by the minute. This is confirmed by both the number on the scale and my five-year-old incessantly asking me why I am getting so fat.
9. I no longer have the ability to see anything past my huge belly to check if my legs are hairier than my husband’s and desperately in need of a shave.
10. I now have a complete understanding of the nightmare that is hemorrhoids which, without a shadow of a doubt, were sent straight from the devil above to torture pregnant women all over the world. Ouch.


Like Mother, Like Daughter…
Five-year-old Olivia was asked to choose one word that describes her best and then write it in a sentence while at school today.
This was the result.
And reason# 998,345,126 why I freaking love this kid.
Even if she can’t spell hilarious correctly.

Procrastinating Procrastination…


Because when the mountains of laundry, piles of dirty dishes, obnoxiously messy bedrooms, and sticky crumb-covered floors are calling my name I prioritize and do what’s REALLY important…
like wasting a minimun of a half hour carefully reading through everybody’s super interesting status updates about what they are cooking for dinner, how much they hate the weather, and all those stupid, yet oddly entertaining, images of cats with speech bubbles coming out of their little cat mouths.
True story.

The Top 10 Things I Really, Really, Really Wish Someone Had Found It In Their Heart To Tell Me BEFORE I Became a Mom:


Because more days than not I stumble, fall flat on my face, and suddenly realize this whole motherhood thing ain’t no joke.
And so was born…
The Top 10 Things I Really, Really, Really Wish Someone Had Found It In Their Heart To Tell Me BEFORE I Became a Mom:

1. Take pride in and fully enjoy the fact you can sneeze, cough, and laugh without peeing in your pants because in your post-baby days that luxury will be a distant memory.
2. You will lose your patience. Sometimes you will yell. Loud. Very f#*king loud. Occasionally, you may even spit and stutter while you yell. Quite often you will find you are acting like the exact opposite of the parent you imagined you’d be.
3. You will learn how to pee, shit, shave and shower with an audience because those are the times all the “emergencies” will occur and your kid will need you the most.
4. You will quickly master the skill of navigating all stores in such a manner as to completely avoid the toy department or any department that may have toys strategically placed at your child’s eye level.
5. Make it a priority to hide the good chocolate. And the good cookies. And that pint of good ice cream. Preferably somewhere up high. Very high. And do not take it out until after you are absolutely sure the kids have fallen asleep for the night.
6. Wear a wetsuit and goggles while bathing your child. Flippers are optional. Be on guard and prepared to handle approximately three foot wave swells as your child attempts to swim, perform tricks with their bath toys and blow bubbles in the tub.
7. Master the art of dodging legos, matchbox cars, and other razor sharp toys while walking through the house. Doing so will help you in avoiding ER trips to get your foot stitched back together.
8. Practice and perfect the skill of locating a micro-sized piece of a toy on the car floor, changing the radio station and refereeing a full out brawl between your children while attempting to drive 55 mph on the highway in order to avoid being late for your Mommy and Me class.
9. You will be able to wipe butts, de-booger noses and clean up puke without gagging, dry heaving or vomiting yourself.
10. Be fully aware that motherhood is a crazy, scary and straight up exhausting ride that is not for the overly sensitive, easily traumatized or weak of heart. Know that even with all the diaper blowouts, tantrums, snotty noses, sleepless nights, back talk and whining, if given the choice, you’d never have it any other way, because this is exactly where you want to be.

~ Happy Mother’s Day ~

Wishing all the grandmas, mommies, and aunts a happy, happy Mother’s Day filled with whatever it is that makes you smile…whether it may be lots of kick ass gifts, to sleep in past 7:00 am or to sucessfully complete a trip to the bathroom without any three foot tall intruders barging in demanding a juice box.

Saturday Night:Mommy Style…

Because some nights true happiness is as simple as a couple of sleeping kids, a pair of fuzzy sweatpants, a super-sized bowl of the secret stash of Haagen Dazs ice cream, and the sweet sounds of silence.
Welcome to Saturday night…Mommy style.

The Top Ten List of Things Mommy REALLY Wants For Mother’s Day…


The Top Ten List of Things
Mommy REALLY Wants This Mother’s Day:

1. A full-time chef who prepares three healthy meals a day, plus snacks, that my children actually eat with making overly dramatic gagging noises.
2. A maid who specializes in all phases of laundry, scrubbing toilets, washing dishes and vacuuming up obnoxious amounts of dog and cat fur.
3. A nanny, who has the ability to tame category 5 tantrums, keep my kids from whining, and able to keep my kids smiling, however she cannot be prettier, skinnier or funnier than I am.
4. An uninterrupted night of sleep void of children begging and pleading to take up residence in my bed rather than theirs at approximately 12:01, 1:48, 3:00, 3:52, 4:00, and 4:17 AM.
5. The ability to take a shit, shower and shave without 3 foot tall visitors demanding another glass of milk, another episode of Spongebob Squarepants or assistance wiping their butt or nose.
6. A privacy glass divider to be used at my discretion and as necessary to drown out any whining, moaning, complaining, or bickering while driving with the kids in the backseat of the car.
7. The ability to eat lunch without tiny grabbing hands clawing at my salad attempting to steal the croutons, bacon bits, shreds of cheese and olives for themselves.
8. Weekly kid-free trips to Target at which time I can leisurely stroll the store without having to put into action a strategic plan of attack in order to avoid the toy aisles while shopping for crap I don’t really even need but always seem to find a reason to justify buying anyway.
9. The ability to indulge in various periods of silence throughout the day to dedicate to reading and finally finishing a library book without having to owe $14.25 in overdue fines.
10. An year long supply of wine, Tylenol, chocolate, and pints of Ben And Jerry’s Peanut Butter Cup ice cream to last me until next Mother’s Day.

The Joy of Dinnertime Preparation…

Wednesday, 5:27 pm…
Olivia, 5: “Mooooomy! So, what’s for dinner tonight anyways?”
Mommy: “Um, it’s a surprise, but don’t worry I got this.”
(And it was about that time I crossed my fingers as I slowly opened the kitchen cabinet. And just like that my prayers were answered. Because nestled right between a can of corn and a box of Cocoa Krispies there it was. My saving grace. A beautiful blue box of Kraft mac and cheese. Dinner is served. Mission accomplished. Holla.)

Dear Mommy McPerfect…

Dear Mommy Mc Perfect,

About all those nauseating perfect status updates about your perfect days and nights with your perfect little angel child…
You sit on a throne of lies.
Now cut that shit out.

Mommy Mc Not-So Perfect and Proud


The True Story of A Night in the Life of a Super Exhausted Mommy…
8:03 pm: “Mommy, can you lay with me until I fall asleep?”
8:46 pm: “Mommy, are you sleeping? Because I’m not even sleeping yet.”
9:02 pm: “Mommy, you can’t leave my bed yet. I’m STILL up.”
11:13 pm:
1:58 am: “Wake up, Mommy because I just wanted to tell you something really important which actually is that I’m going to use the potty to make pee pee.”
2:43 am: “Mommy, I am so hungry. I really think I need a snack.”
2:48 am: “Um, ya know? Soon it will be dawn outside. Do you know what dawn means? Want me to tell you all about it?”
4:21 am:
7:30 am:

Bon Appetit…

Dear Kids,
Tonight’s menu choices shall include your choice of one of Mommy’s tried and true culinary favorites which include mac and cheese from the blue box made with lots of love, a neatly trimmed crustless pb & j sandwich, or a plate filled with that breakfast for dinner trick which never seems to get old around here.
Bon appetit, little ones. Bon appetit.

With Love,

Hoarders vs. Kids…

Five minutes on a good day, maybe.
My little gems have been known to turn an entire house upside down in less than three.
Sad, yet true story.

Don’t Be That Someone…

Because there’s always a few in every bunch…

The Ultimate Mother’s Day Gift…

Dear Kids,
Forget the flowers, the cards, and that whole breakfast in bed thing. All I want for Mother’s Day is an uninterrupted trip to the bathroom. Thanks so much for you cooperation in making my Mother’s Day dreams come true.

With Love and Eternal Gratitude,

They Listen! They Really Do Listen!

That shocking, mind-blowing and straight up exhilarating moment at approximately 8:00 am when you realize the kids got dressed, brushed their teeth, tamed their hair, poured their own cereal and milk and tied their own shoes when it suddenly dawns on you…
Holy shit!
These kids actually do listen to me after all.
Holy. F#*king. Shit.


Just when you thought cutting the crusts of that pb & j sandwich before you slipped it into their lunchbox this morning won you some bonus Mommy of the Year Award points…along comes Mommy McPerfect with this creation to knock you right on your sorry ass.

The Official Top Ten List of the Worst Pregnancy Side Effects…


The Official Top Ten List of the Worst Pregnancy Side Effects…

1. The joy of sore, aching, throbbing boobs with silver-dollar sized areolas pouring out of your bra.
2. Sitting back helplessly while watching cellulite make a permanent home on parts of your body you didn’t know could even get cellulite on them.
3. Saying a prayer you don’t pee in your pants again every single time you cough, sneeze, laugh, breathe or bend over to pick something up.
4. Morning, mid-morning, early afternoon, late afternoon and evening sickness.
5. Endless gas from both ends of your body that sounds and smells so bad it rivals that of a 400 pound man’s flatulence.
6. Wearing those super high-waisted, super awkward looking, and straight up super hideous maternity jeans.
7. Having no choice but to give in to the cravings for Reese’s Peanut Butter cups, egg salad on an everything bagel, green olives, and orange juice which are not always, but on occasion, all consumed together in one sitting.
8. Gaining weight so fast you swear you can feel yourself getting fatter by the minute.
9. Not having the ability to see anything past your huge belly to check if your legs are hairier than your husband’s and desperately in need of a shave again.
10. Those pesky hemorrhoids which, without a shadow of a doubt, were sent straight from the devil above to torture pregnant women all over the world. Ouch.

Mommy’s Official Top Ten List of Lies I Tell My Children…

Mommy’s Official Top Ten List of:
Lies I Admit I Tell My Children on a Regular Basis:
1. “I love all my children equally.”
(But, at the end of the day, whichever one of them whined the least gets an extra scoop of ice cream at dessert)
2. “Yes, I swear. There really is a Santa Claus, an Easter Bunny, and leprechauns.
(And if you truly believe a fat, white-bearded man, a supersized, basket-toting rabbit, and a troublemaking pint-sized elfish man not only come waltzing through your house once a year but also keep a watchful eye on you to make sure your behavior is in check, so be it. Like I always say, go with whatever works.)
3. “I just don’t know where those last three Double Stuff Oreo’s that were just on the counter went.
(Damn, I almost forgot how much I love Double Stuff Oreos)
4. “Our television will blow up if we try to make it show us Caillou, Dora, or The Wonder Pets.”
(Or any other show with an annoying theme song for that matter)
5. “There’s nothing more I’d like to do than buy you a pet rabbit, turtle, ferret, parakeet, snake, hamster, and a tarantula, but believe it or not, Mommy’s super allergic to them all.”
(Actually it turns out Mommy’s allergic to anything else entering this house that needs to be fed, watered or needs any other type of demand met)
6. “Ok, sure. I’ll be there in one minute.”
(Well, in reality, probably more likely at that moment I hear screaming, glass shattering, or fire burning, but eventually I’ll get there)
7. The radio in Mommy’s car just can’t play One Direction, Justin Bieber, Kesha, or that annoying “Call Me Maybe” song.
(Oh yeah, and any of those wretched Kidz Bops CD’s, Radio Disney, or any other song on the current Top 20 list)
8. “No, of course I didn’t throw away those 37 worksheets you brought home from school this past week. It totally looks like the wind blew them into the garbage can.”
(And strategically hid them beneath 8 layers of trash to camouflage them so you’d never learn the harsh truth that I don’t save every single piece of paper you bring home from school)
9. “What’s that sound? That’s the ice cream man playing his music. He does that to let us all know he ran out of ice cream. Maybe he’ll get some more really soon.”
(And of course tomorrow night, at the precise moment I am about to put dinner on the table, that bastard will roll on by our house blaring his obnoxious music in an attempt to hypnotize all the children within a fifty mile radius to beg, plead and cry for some of his ice cream treats)
10. “Every time you whine, a fairy dies.”
(And so does a little part of Mommy’s sanity. So cut that shit out already)


MOM: housekeeper, chef, teacher, nurse, coach, chauffeur, butt wiper, monster slayer, events planner, short order cook, organizer, decorator, hair stylist, crafter, snot wiper, best friend, dishwasher, launderer, baker, counselor, tear wiper, bodyguard, story teller, therapist, fort builder, tantrum tamer, multi-tasking expert, wonder woman…and I f#*king do everything.

There’s Always Tomorrow…

Because some days, much like today, in between the trying to make sure I do everything right, there’s a bit of yelling, some losing of my patience, and a whole lot of me reminding myself that tomorow is a new day without any mistakes in it yet.

Feeling Smart?

Because the fear and nausea that strike when I stumble upon such words as geometry, vertices, trapezoids, and hexagons are straight up debilitating. True story.

Top Ten List of Before I Was a Mom I Swore I’d Never…

Mommy’s Not-So-Proud, Yet Official Top Ten List of:
Before I Was a Mom, I Swore I’d Never ______________.

1. Scream. Loud. Like really f#*king loud by the time the clock strikes 7:46 am.
2. Spit uncontrollably all over the place, including some in my child’s face, while screaming really f#*king loud at 7:46, 8:32, 8:57, 9:12, and 9:34 AM.
3. Lie right to my child’s face and say the dog got it when they ask where that last piece of the Hershey’s chocolate bar they left on the counter went.
4. Truly begin to believe sitting on a toilet behing a locked door for more than two minutes straight is the equivalent to a mini vacation in a faraway tropical island.
5. Consider my own saliva to be an acceptable and appropriate substitute to clean my child’s oreo covered face when I realize I once again ran out of wet wipes needed do the job.
6. Allow myself to indulge in five minutes more of sleep in the morning while knowing damn well it’ll cost me at least another thirty to clean up the mess the kids will undoubtedly make in every other room in the house.
7. Always have to sift through mountainfuls of crushed goldfish crackers, six or more half eaten lollipops, and a whole box of broken crayons to find a freaking penny when standing at the checkout counter.
8. Use phrases I promised myself I’d never use which include, but are not limited to, “Because I’m the mom, that’s why!”, “Why must I repeat myself like a broken record?”, and “I hope you have a daughter just like you someday!”
9. Count the minutes until bedtime rolls around because I can hardly wait for the joy that is silence, the freedom to switch the tv channel from Nick Jr. to Fox, and to dive into a super-sized bowl of the secretly hidden ice cream.
10. Lay my exhausted body down in my bed each night and think to myself “How the hell did I make it throught his day in once piece” while simultaneously realizing I can’t wait to hop back on the crazy train again tomorrow.


making women stronger and bringing them closer to absolute insanity than they ever thought was f#*king possible…one temper tantrum at a time.

The Countdown…

Because it’s T-minus nine hours, 32 minutes, and seven seconds til the babysitter arrives for the rare and highly coveted Saturday night out sans kids, but I mean, who’s counting, right?
This gal right here, that’s who.
Nine hours, 31 minutes, and 56 seconds….


Especially when I have no f#*king clue what I’m doing.
Shhh. Don’t tell anyone.

A Mother’s Work Is Just Never F#*king Done…

Because it simply wasn’t enough that I have officially mastered the Mommy skill of making sure my daughter is fully dressed, hair brushed, and accessorized in time for school to begin…so now it appears I also have to worry about whether or not her damn doll is presentable and ready to start her day as well.

Mini Me…

Unless she’s whining, talking back, or having one of her signature category 5 temper tantrums.
Then, she’s all Daddy.
True story.

My Very Own Army…

The sad, often entertaning, slightly ridiculous and completely 100% true story of my life.
A great big thank you to this e-card for the morning laugh that helped ease the burn of day #11 of school vacation.
I think I can. I think I can…

Mission Accomplished x 3…

Because today alone I faced and conquered some of my most deeply-rooted motherhood fears which include, but are not limited to, fully brushing five-year-old Olivia’s bedhead rat’s nest head of hair while she let out her signature cat-being-skinned-like shrieks right into my left ear, attempted a solo and successful visit to the bathroom to shit, shower, and shave, and last but not least, lived to tell the tale of a field trip to Target with a shopping list of more than five items in my hand and both the kids right behind me incessantly begging for “just a quick peek at the toy aisles” from the moment we walked through the doors until the moment we exited the store.
All you have to fear is fear itself.
Or maybe those pesky tantrums, messy diaper blowouts or that endless checklist of excuses why they simply can’t go to bed on time, yet again.
Because, let’s admit it, those things are straight up terrifying, eh?

Funny Shit My Kid Said #967,058:

Mommy: “So Camryn. Now that you’re seven, do you REALLY believe that a huge bunny hopped through our house and left you that basket filled with candy on Easter this year?”
Camryn, 7: “Oh, of course not, Mommy.”
Mommy: “Ok, good. Glad we got that straightened out.”
Camryn, 7: “I mean come on, Mommy. Of course it wasn’t the Easter Bunny this year. There’s not a bunny track to be found in this house!”
Mommy: “Ah, let’s hold off on that whole Santa thing I wanted to discuss with you for another time, eh?”

True, Not-So-Proud, Mommy Confession of the Day #67,890:

True, Not-So-Proud, Mommy Confession of the Day #67,890:
On certain holidays that include giving the children gifts of candy, I rationalize making the kids share with me because I totally earned it by busting my ass playing the role of a fat, jolly, old man named Santa, a crazed, gold-digging leprechaun, and a human-sized, hopping bunny. Ain’t no shame in my game.

Same Shit. Different Friday…

Feed the kids.
Bathe the kids.
Read to the kids.
Put the kids to bed.
And that’s about when Mommy’s crazy wild Friday night chockful of sweatpants, gorging on a supersized bowl of the good ice cream with a side of those special hidden cookies, and falling asleep on the couch approximately seventeen minutes into watching last week’s DVR’d episode of The Office began.
Happy Friday Mommies.
Happy. Friday.

Keep Calm, Think Happy Thoughts, and Mommy On…

And nevermind that bagel that fell cream cheese side down on the seat of your car, or those scribbles of peace signs, cats, and lopsided hearts I drew all over that really important letter you accidentally left out on the kitchen counter, or that cup of sour milk you had the pleasure of stumbling upon that I forgot I hid under my bed sometime last week, or that I used your brand new super expensive lipstick to paint a detailed self-portrait on the bathroom mirror, or that I ate the very last brownie even though I knew you had your heart set on it for dessert since noon today, or that I hijacked your cell phone to play games and somehow erased emails, sent out numerous texts filled with jibberish, and may or may not have placed a call to China once or quite possibly even twice…

Funny Shit My Kid Said #998,456:

Camryn, 7: “Hey Mommy. You’re never going to believe this but my cousin Matthew is totally famous. I mean, his name is in this big chapter book I just found in the hotel drawer like a million, billion times! Check it out!”

Mommy Epiphany #45,678:

Because at that very moment, right about ten minutes after your kid should have already been asleep in bed for the night.
When you discover them walking down the hallway with a cup of water in their hand.
And you suddenly feel like you are about to go all Mommie Dearest on them for trying your patience like no other person on this earth has the ability to do.
Because, damn it! You made it a point to put a cup of water in their room to avoid this very bedroom exit “emergency” before tucking them in.
But then upon noticing your evil Mommie stare the kid looks you right in the eye and confidently, calmly, and with great pride declares, “Mommy. Don’t worry. This cup’s for the plant in my room because even though we gave him water for breakfast this morning we actually forgot to give him dinner, so that’s what I’m doing now.”
And just like that I actually stopped to give thanks for tonight’s bedroom exit “emergency,” because without it, that poor plant may have starved and I never would’ve ended my day laughing so hard I snorted.
Well played, child. Well played.

Toof Fairy…


Olivia, 5: “Mommy! Wook at dis! My toof is about to fwall out!”

Because every single time these kids loose a tooth I swear to myself that this will be the time I finally make it a point to remember to stash away a few bucks so I always have them handy to shove under their pillow after bedtime.
This will be tooth #8.
I never learn.

Wanted: A Mommy Breather

Or make a trip to the bathroom, take a bite of food, log on to the computer, sit in a chair or attempt anything else that is not directly related to me entertaining the children, answering their countless random questions, or fulfilling their never ending demands for juiceboxes, cheesesticks and various other “emergencies” that seem to pop up every single time I feel the need for a Mommy breather.
True story.
Without fail.
Every. F#*king. Time.
Holla if ya hear me.

Shit’s About To Get Real Up In Here…

Dear Daughter O’ Mine,

Listen. And Listen closely. One more “whatever,” “I don’t care,” and/or “it’s not fair” from you today and I can guarantee you shit’s going to get real up in here. I’m talking hand over the video games, forget about television and you can be sure as hell there will be no computer for a week kinda real. Consider yourself warned and proceed with caution.

With Love,
aka: The Boss

PS: That whining shit’s gotta stop too. Just saying.

I Need To Remember…

I Need To Remember…
Because instead of worrying about peas left behind on the dinner plate, messy bedrooms, and dirty clothes scattered across the floor…
I need to remember she sung out the words, “Mommy, I love you!” upon greeting me first this morning.
I need to remember the love notes I sometimes stumble upon that she hides under my blanket to remind me she thinks I am the “best Mommy ever.”
I need to remember how she plops herself right on my lap, rests her head on my shoulder, and plays with my hair as we read bedtime stories before betime.
I need to remember when she tells me I am pretty as I wipe the morning crust from my eyes and adjust my wrinkled sweatpants.
I need to remember how she laughs at every single one of my jokes and then uses them on others to give someone else a smile.
I need to remember how she beams with pride and calls out “Everyone! Look! That’s my Momma!” as I step foot into her classroom to read a book to her class.
I need to remember the beautiful drawings of our family that she brings home from school that always have us all smiling and surrounded with hearts.
I need to remember.

Mommy’s Official List of Top Ten Mispronunciations My Kids Make…


Mommy’s Official List of Top Ten Mispronunciations My Kids Make
(and I refuse to correct because they make me laugh so hard I almost pee in my pants)…
1. Justice Beaver.
As in the sentence, “O-M-G! Is this Justice Beaver on the radio?!”
2. Dapossedta.
As in the sentence, “My mom said I’m not dapossedta swing the cat around by his front legs.”
3. Pagina.
As in the sentence, “Did you know girls have a pagina and boys have a stick thingy with circle thingys under it?”
4. Piami.
As in the sentence, “When can we take a trip to Florida and visit Piami again?”
5. Hampstamps.
As in the sentence, “Mommy! Mommy! I learned how to do hampstamps in gymnastics class today!”
6. Whit Cream.
As in the sentence, “May I please have some of that yummy whit cream stuff on my ice cream sundae?”
7. Shampooty.
As in the sentence, “Mmmm. This new shampooty you’re using to wash my hair smells so good.”
8. Sombrello.
As in the sentence, “If we go out to eat and get Mexican food, could I wear a sombrella?”
9. Pasghetti.
As in the sentence, “Can I have some meatballs with my pasghetti?”
10. Ocean.
As in the sentence, “I love all the colors of the rainbow. I like red, yellow, blue, green, purple, and ocean.”

Mom! Momma! Mummy! Ma!


Mom! Mom! Mom! Mommy! Mommy! Mommy! Momma! Momma! Momma! Ma! Ma! Ma! Ma! Mom! Mom! Mom! Mom! Mommy! Mommy! Momma! Momma! Momma…

Can you get me a drink?
Do we have any chocolate milk?
Is it the chocolate milk with the bunny on the bottle?
I need a snack.
Is the Easter Bunny watching me? Like right now?
Can I have ice cream for dinner?
Why can’t I have ice cream for dinner?
How about ice cream for breakfast?
When can we take a vacation to L.A.?
What is L.A. anyway?
Can Santa Claus see inside my throat?
I really need a snack, again. This time I want a cheesestick.
I’m thirsty. Where are the juiceboxes?
What does S-H-I-T spell? I heard you spell that word before.
Why are you closing your eyes and pretending to not hear me?
Are you listening to me?

Mommy’s Dreams Are Dying…


Camryn, 7: “Hey, Mom. I swear. Kesha has like the BEST singing voice ever. Like ever in the whole world.”

Dear Mrs. Super Organized Mom…

I stumbled upon this gem while walking through the library today.
Maybe it was the nice, bright colors that caught my eye. Or, perhaps it was the fact that without even picking it up and taking a look inside I could guess what the author’s “secrets” were.
Because without a doubt, chapter 1 has just got to be titled, “Don’t have kids. Ever.”
And chapter 2 is no doubt called, “If you did by chance already have kids and ever want to see any sort of organization in your house again, put them outside of the house and don’t ever let them back in.”
So, Mrs. Super Organized, Color-Coded To-Do Lists Writing, Secret Keeping, Author Mom.
I’m sorry to say, but your secrets are out.

One Hell of an Unorganized Mommy


You know you’re a completely and utterly exhausted mom when…
without a second thought, you’d gladly pass up the opportunity for sex, chocolate, and/or a nice big glass of wine for the opportunity to indulge in a heavenly fifteen minute nap.

Your turn.
You know you’re a completely and utterly exhausted mom when _________________________________________.



With all due respect Grandma and Grandpa,

To answer your questions…Yes. She is wearing that shirt today. No. She doesn’t need an extra jacket just in case the first I put on her doesn’t do the trick. Yes. She is eating that for lunch again today. And NO! For the sixth time, she cannot have a third lollipop just because she is crying for one.

The Mommy

Sombody Make It Stop…

Like every f#*king minute I attempt to visit the bathroom, pickup a phone, type out an email, eat a bite of food, or breathe.
Somebody stop the insanity.

Today’s Great Big FU of the Day Goes to Pokemon…

I’m compeltely convinced that Pokemon was created simply to drive parents straight to the brink of insanity, because my daughter’s obsession with these damn jibberish-speaking, freaky-looking creatures has pushed me to right to the edge and I swear that with the next mention of Pikachu, pokeballs, or the sound of her desperately pleading and begging for yet another pack of stupid cards…I’m officially jumping. Head first.

*Please commiserate with me by sharing the most annoying toy obsession you child ever had or has, make me feel like I am not alone, and most importantly, save me from throwing my Mommy self right over the ledge…

It Seemed Like a Good Idea At The Time…

Because it really, really seems like such a good idea at the time…
Until 5:48 am rolls around and bites you in your tired Mommy ass as a little bright-eyed and bushy-tailed five-year-old is breathing her morning breath in your face while bellowing the words “Mommy! Time to wake up because I really wants some breakfast of pancakes NOW please!”

Mommy’s True Confession of the Day #112,905:

This. Usually sprinkled with those fake little bursts of laughter, a few rounds of blurting out “Oh, really?” and a couple of “Uh huh. Go on’s” to make it seem like I truly care.
It’s a skill folks. It’s taken years to perfect.
And it’s a skill I am rather f#*king proud of.
Just saying.

You Don’t Know Shit…


Dear Super Irritating, Condescending, Know-It-All Mommy Who Always Feels The Need to Comment On and Criticize Your Fellow Mommies And Their Every Move,

This one goes out to you, because when it all comes right on down to it even though you may know shitty diapers…you don’t know shit.

A Fellow Mommy

Ole! It’s St. Patrick’s Day!

Olivia, 5: “Mommy, I’m not sure if you know this but I’m actually Irish.”
Mommy: “Yep. I know you are.”
Olivia, 5: “Well, I bet you didn’t know I am also Mexican.”
Mommy: “Actually, I did not know that.”
Olivia, 5: (dances a little jig, kicks up her feet, and throws her hands up in the air) “Guess what I am now? Ya give up?
I’m a Mexican leprechaun!”
Mommy: “Liv, despite the fact you are 0% Mexican, that is probably going to be the funniest thing I hear all damn day today, so thank you.”
Olivia, 5: (still dancing her Mexican leprechaun dance)

Same Shit, Different Day…

Mommy: “Olivia, please go put your shoes on we have to leave.”

Mommy: “Olivia, I need you to put your shoes on please. Now.”

Mommy: “Olivia Grace! Get over here and put your damn shoes on already!!”

Mommy: “Olivia!!! Here’s the part where I lose it!!”
Olivia: “Geesh Mom. Why do you always have to yell like that?”
Mommy: (takes deep breaths while slowly counting ten)

Mommy Epiphany #100,507:

You never really know how strong your child is until they have to be held down for a blood test at the pediatrician.
Turns out my kid is more powerful than a tornado, hurricane, and earthquake combined into one evil, relentless force.
And those three nurses who had the pleasure of assisting me in the near impossible task of restraining her screeching, flailing self shall never, ever be the same again. Poor ladies.

Perfection is Overrated…

So, this one goes out to all my fellow perfectly imperfect parents.
May your day be a wonderful one.

Girl Scout Cookies…

Dear Samoas,

Get in my belly. Now.

Totally Addicted to Girl Scout Cookies
PS: Please feel free to bring your friends Thin Mints, Do Si Dos, and Tagalongs to join in the fun.

I Used To Be Sweet, Innocent and Patient…

once upon a time
I Used To Be Sweet, Innocent, and Patient…
(But Then I Became a Mom and This Shit Happened):
1. Being subjected to twelve minutes of intense temper tantrums, complete with ear piercing screams, over hairstyle malfunctions.
2. Tending to multiple diarrhea diaper blowouts during the wee hours of the morning and not realizing most of it ended up on my sleeve until hours later when my husband asked “Is that poop or chocolate on your sleeve?”
3. Having to listen to endless rounds of sibling rivalry over such important things as whether to watch Spongebob or Strawberry Shortcake on TV.
4. Consoling a crying child because they lost their pink elephant stuffed animal that they snuck out of the house after I specifically told them to leave in their room because Target doesn’t allow pink elephants inside.
5. Busting my ass in the kitchen to put a healthy dinner on the table only to be told they’d really rather have a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in between making gagging noises as they chew.
6. Learning that not only did the dog shit in the house, then step in it and track it all over the house…so did my child.
7. That when my child tells me they can hold it for another ten minutes while shopping in the supermarket, they can’t and will most likely let it flow right over the bananas, box of Cocoa Krispies and bag of dog food in the cart.
8. Learning that when a four-year-old decides she is strong enough to handle pouring from a gallon sized jug of milk, the spill she creates will cover each and every tile on the kitchen floor.
9. That no matter how nice I am, Grandma will always be considered nicer because “she never yells like I always do.”
10. That every single time my child throws up, it is fully guaranteed that the vomit will land on me.

Behold The Exitless Bedtime…


AND the kids in bed by 8:00 pm with out any “emergency” exits for a cup of water, to kiss the cat goodnight, to use the potty, to beg for one last snack, to beckon for help to find the “lost” stuffed animal owl they strategically hid under their bed, to give a twenty minute recap of their day at school, to ask why the sky is blue, or to debate which One Direction band member is the cutest.
Like a boss.
(Until tomorrow morning when they awake and I get knocked right back on my sorry Mommy ass, but until then I shall bask in my glory…)

21,000 Questions…


Just a small sampling of the thought-provoking questions Olivia blessed me with today…
1. “Mom, do you believe the Easter Bunny poops jellybeans? I do.”
2. “Why do girls have a pagina and boys have that stick thingy?”
3. “What is it like in that place called heaven?”
4. “Why can’t the cat’s tail cover his butthole so I don’t have to always look at it when he walks by?”
5. “Do you want to see the ginormous poopy I just made in the potty?”
6. “Can I have a third juicebox?”
7. “Why can’t I have a third juicebox?”
8. “Does Santa watch me all year long or just when it is close to Christmas time?”
9. “Why aren’t you answering me, Mommy!?”
10. “Do I really have to go to bed now?”



Target: The place you go to for toilet paper, deodorant and bread yet leave with an overflowing cart of shit you didn’t intend to buy, want or need.
Without fail.
Every f#*king time.

Chuck E. Germs…


And I won’t even mention the thick coating of germs on each and every surface in the place that will no doubt land my kids in the pediatrician’s office within three days of being there.
Ok, maybe I will mention it.
Just another reason to add to the list of many reasons why I loathe the place and that dirty ass rat that lives there. ..

Making Momma Proud…


Mommy: (wipes a blob of pink yogurt of off Olivia’s left cheek)
Olivia, 5: “Aw, Mom. Come on already! Now why did ya go and do that for? Don’t cha know I was saving that for dessert?”
Mommy: “Good one, Liv. Which master of sarcasm taught you that one?”
Olivia, 5: (smirks and points at Mommy)
Mommy: “Well done, little one. Well done.”

Auto Correct…


Dear Auto Correct,

This shit’s gotta stop.
I spend more time correcting your “corrections” than I do on the actual text I am sending to someone. If I wanted to substitute the word “penis” instead of “pencil” I’d spell it that way.
Now, mind your penises’s and q’s, would ya?

An Annoyed Texter

Mother (muther) noun…

For further information please see the following:
Housekeeper, Chef, Teacher, Nurse, Coach, Chauffeur, Butt Wiper, Monster Slayer, Events Planners, Organizer, Santa Claus, Decorator, Hair Stylist, Crafter, Best Friend, Dshwasher, Launderer, Baker, Counselor, Tear Wiper, Bodyguard, Tooth Fairy, Story Teller, Therapist, Fort Builder, Easter Bunny, Tantrum Tamer, Multi-Tasking Expert, Boo Boo Kisser, Referee, Lost Toy Locator, and/or Super Woman…

100% Mom…

Or perhaps it was the fact I’ve been wearing the same faded black yoga pants for the past three days, or that I haven’t showered in over 48 hours, or the crusty glob of macaroni and cheese smushed into my shirt sleeve, or the sea of crushed goldfish cracker crumbs on the bottom of my purse, or the Strawberry Shortcake sticker hanging off the ass of my pants, or the unintentionally mismatched socks on my feet, or the fact I have a tantruming child clinging to my right leg while desperately begging and pleading with every last ounce of energy she has in her five-year-old body for another f#*king Oreo cookie…

I’m Kind of a Big Deal…

Camryn, 7: (staring at computer screen) “Um, O-M-G! Man, looks like Mommy’s got herself a lot of likes on her Facebook page!”
Olivia, 5: “Wow. That’s a really big number.”
Camryn, 7: “Mom, how in the world did you get all these likes?”
Mommy: “I have a newsflash, kids. I don’t know how to put this, but your Mommy’s kid of a big deal. People know me.”
Camryn, 7 & Olivia, 5: (simultaneously roll eyes and walk away)

Time With and Without Kids…


I swear I can accomplish more in one hour sans kids than most people accomplish in a whole freaking week.
True story.



While also shattering my dreams of ever getting my hands on that Mommy of the Year Award since…
a) On the rare occasion that I do attempt to bake, without fail, my cupcakes are always lopsided.
b) I totally can’t do any of those super intricate braids in my daughters’ hair.
c) I send the kids to school with a basic brown-bagged pb & j sandwich instead of a gourmet-style three course meal complete with a fabulous dessert that looks exactly like Spongebob.

Grab The Tissues…


Five year Olivia picked this one up at the library today.
She requested it as her bedtime story tonight.
Three pages in and I was already teary-eyed.
I held it together like a champ and read on.
Then, I arrived at the last page.
And that’s when the flood gates crashed open and the tears started flowing.
Beware fellow Mommies.
This one is absolutely guaranteed to turn you into a sobbing mess.
Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

The Telephone Circus…


This. Without fail. Every f#*king time the phone rings…
“No, no, no. Don’t be silly. Of course this isn’t an inconvenient time. It always sounds like a circus is parading through my house while my kids slowly kill a cat. Now, what was that you were saying?”



Motherhood: Because some days a simple cup of hot tea, an uninterrupted visit to the bathroom, a late-night trip to the supermarket, or an extra long wait while at the dentist’s office sans kids truly do seem like a thin slice of heaven right here on earth. True story.

The Mommy Olympics…


This year’s events shall include the following super challenging, extremely frustrating, and straight up exhausting games:

FREESTYLE FOOD SHOPPING: Push a shopping cart filled with a fifty pound child, bread, milk, eggs, and a box of Lucky Charms up and down each aisle of the supermarket while avoiding knocking down various displays of items. Bonus points if you remember to actually get the milk which was the reason you actually entered the store in the first place.

AQUATIC WRANGLING: Wrangle your child, bribe them with whatever it takes to enter the tub, avoid a flood in the bathroom, keep their whining and screaming to a minimum and have them somehow end up dirt-free.

EARLY MORNING EXIT: make sure the child has been dressed in clean underwear and a shirt and pants that actually match, has brushed their teeth, combed their hair and eaten their breakfast. This must be completed in approximately five minutes since each and every morning is rushed, chaotic and extremely stressful.

CREATIVE COOKING: Think up, shop for, prepare and and be ready to serve kid-friendly foods in a moment’s notice with backup plans A and B ready to go for when the first course of food the child requested gets rejected for no other reason than they simply changed their mind.

EXITLESS BEDTIME: Get your child to bed with no more than six exits from their room once the lights have been turned out. Exit excuses for a glass of water, a seventeenth hug or assistance performing a search and recovery mission for a stuffed animal will not be tolerated and may be cause for disqualification.

FULLY FOCUSED DRIVING: Able to safely operate a vehicle while juggling a minimum of 17,258 demands and requests from the children which shall begin the second the key enters the ignition.

TELEPHONE CALL DASH: Successfuly complete a phone call without being interrupted by your children, screaming at your children or simply being distracted by your children.

Good luck and may the best mommies win.

Pooping Alone Is Overrated…


Simply stated.

This Mommy Knows What’s Up…


Double high fives to you, my fellow Mommy.
A job well done.

Mommy Hosts Family Movie Night: Old School Style…


The kids put in a request for me to host a “Family Movie Night.”
I agreed.
On one condition.
They agreed to let me take it old school with this cinematic gem.

PS: I cried just as hard this time around, if not harder, than the first time I saw it at the ripe age of seven.
“I’ll believe in you all my life, everyday. E.T…I love you.”
Gets me damn everytime.

The Evolution of Santa…


Olivia, 5: “So, Mommy? When you were a baby was Santa a teenager?”
Mommy: “Um, well I don’t know. I think he’s always just been, well…old.”
Olivia, 5: “Oh. I see. So then Santa was a baby right after the dinosaurs were alive! I get it now! Thanks Mom.”
Mommy: “No, thank YOU, Liv. Because for some strange reason, I think I get it now too.”

One to Grow On…


So children, now you see.
This is precisely why Mommy needs to yell.
It keeps her sane.
And that’s one to grow on.

Super Exciting Mommy Epiphany of the Day #45,678:


That moment you realize you’ve won the Mommy Lotto as you glance down at a birthday party invitation your child brought home from school and for the first time ever you see the words “This is a dropoff party” written on it.
So, let me get this straight party mom. You want me to leave my kid in your care while you entertain and feed them while I bask in the glory of two solid hours of kid-free time. Um, yes please. Thank you birthday kid’s mom. Thank. You.

Goodnight Ipad…


C’mon kids.
Gather round.
For tonight’s reading selection we have this gem.
Now shut off that damn iPad, put away that Nintendo DS, plug all cell phones into their chargers, zip your lips, do your best job of pretending to listen to Mommy read and most importantly, let’s enjoy some freakin’ quality bedtime storytime…right after I steal a quick moment to take care of something super important…which is to update my Facebook status. Yeah, I’ll admit it. I’m just as bad as the rest of em.

They Said…They Lied


Whoever “they “is obviously:
A. Sits upon a throne of lies
B. Never had kids
C. Has kids, yet also has a full-time nanny, chef, tutor, and maid

I’ve Become My Mother. Oh Shit.

Top Ten Reasons I Am Convinced I Have Officially Become My Mother…
1. I used the following phrases today. “Don’t make me say it again!” “Watch that tone with me!” and “You want to why?
Because I’m the mom and I said so. That’s why!”
2. When getting ready to go to a special occasion, no outfit is complete with a nice quality pair of control top
pantyhose which is nothing more than a modern day version of that girdle thing my mom used to wear when she was my
3. I have retired my high heel shoes and have traded them in for multiple pairs in every color of those sensible,
comfortable flats which look strikingly similar to those shoes I swore I’d never wear in my mom’s closet.
4. Without hesitation, I found it completely acceptable to use my own saliva to clean the remnants of an Oreo cookie
off my daughter’s face this afternoon.
5. While walking through the mall, I cannot resist the urge to criticize and comment on the way all the tweenage girls
dress like cheap whores and how my daughters will never leave the house looking like that.
6. I genuinely look forward to late night solo trips to the supermarket and have developed the skill to make such
trips last for hours by creeping up each and every aisle, reading every last nutrition label while singing along to
the Muzak versions of Michael Bolton’s “How Am I Supposed To Live Without You” and Phil Collins’ “Sussudio”.
7. I fell victim to a mommy tantrum triggered by my kid’s tantrum this afternoon during which I yelled, stuttered,
mispronounced words and saw spit fly from my mouth.
8. I caught myself standing at the front door, clutching my pocketbook and obsessively staring at my watch while
anxiously awaiting the answer to my Friday evening prayers…the babysitter.
9.There is now always at least one bottle of cheap wine in the house at all times.
10. Very often, on those super exhausting days in mommyland that straight up knocked me on my Mommy ass, that wine is the highlight of my day and the sole reason for my sanity.

You’re a Good Mom…

keep calm you're a good momDear Mommies,

Because sometimes we just need a little reminder.
Here’s yours.

A Fellow Mommy
(Who Spends At Least 85% Of Each Day Convinced She Has Absolutely No F#*king Clue About How To Succeed At This Whole Motherhood Thing)

Dear Diet…

fuckyoudietDear Diet,

Alas, another Monday has fallen upon us. And so we meet again. Damn it. Damn it to hell.

Lettuce for Lunch

Mommy’s List of the Top Ten Most Annoying Gifts For Kids…

1. Play Doh (especially those super-sized tubs of 30 different colors which are always mixed together to become 30 containers of gray Play Doh after the first time they are used)
2. Any toy that makes noise of any kind (this includes, but it not limited to squeaking noises, ringing bells, sirens, meows, and auto-tuned voices )
3. Any toy that makes noise with the option for the child to make the volume louder
4. Moon Sand (in any quantity because all it takes is a handful to destroy carpet, clothes and anything else within fifty feet that holds any value)
5. Slime (no matter the color or amount because this stuff is just a disaster waiting to happen and most times that disaster will take place in your kid’s hair)
6. Any board game that requires more than two players therefore necessitating a parent to actually participate in the game when instead you could be tackling laundry, dirty dishes or Facebook)
7. Any Justin Bieber related item (this includes, but is not limited to, CD’s, DVD’s and obnoxiously loud and completely out of tune singing dolls)
8. Any micro-mini-sized toys that once lost shall never be found again (yet you still fall victim to being guilted into searching every last inch of the house, car and last four stores you visited to try to find it)
9. Gumball and/or any hard candy filled toys that your kids will risk either choking or shattering a tooth on
10. A toy microphone capable of amplifying their every whine, complaint, battle with their sibling, and endless song covers of Kesha, Flo-Rida, and One Direction.

Lettuce For Lunch…


Dear Diet,

Alas, another Monday has fallen upon us. And so we meet again. Damn it. Damn it to hell.

Lettuce for Lunch

The 2013 Top 25 Funny Mommy Bloggers Contest…

contest242 bloggers entered.
Those still holding tight onto a spot in the top 25 were crowned the winners.
I came in at number eight.
Number freaking eight! Holla!
High fives, big Mommy hugs, much thanks and all that jazz to you for voting for me.
And an even bigger thanks for reading my ramblings, epiphanies and tantrums and for letting me know I am not the only one out there still searching for that f#*king mommy manual…

The Smart One…


Olivia, 5: “Hey Mommy? Who sings this song on the radio?”
Mommy: “I’m not sure, Liv. Sorry.”
Camryn, 7: (chimes in unsolicited from backseat of car) “Well. Good thing I’m here because I know it is Justin Bieber and Nicki Minaj singing this.”
Mommy: “Well, there you have it then. Thanks, Cam.”
Camryn, 7: “You’re welcome and just so you know this is exactly why you had me…to have a smart kid in this family.”

Temper Tantrums…


Dear Tantruming Child O’ Mine,

The world really isn’t going to end just because I said you can’t have a second lollipop. I promise. It really won’t. So…
Cut. That. Shit. Out.

Forever Grateful,

Well Done, Portlandia. Well Done.

Because it takes a a lot to make me laugh and this one did the trick…and also because it brought me to the verge of peeing in my pants because I laughed so freaking hard. Well done, Portlandia. Well done.

A Relaxing Family Vacation…

Dear Kids,
Would you please be so kind to take a quick break from your never-ending whining, bickering, tantrums and “are we there yet’s” to smile for the camera and do your best imitation of a nice normal family enjoying some nice quality family time on this year’s nice, relaxing family vacation? We’re making memories here little ones. We’re making some god damn happy memories. Now say cheese!
With Sincere Thanks,

Sweet, Sweet Mommy

That rare moment you’re feeling pretty good about yourself and this whole motherhood thing…and then suddenly your kid throws you a curveball and knocks you right back on your ass…
Camryn, 7: “Hey Mommy. I’m so excited for you to come t…o my school for the big book fair they’re having today. And who knows? They might even have a book for you to buy about how to be a good mom.”
Mommy: (rendered speechless)
Camryn, 7: “Um, well. Like, ya see…it’s not that you’re not actually a good mom, but maybe you can read it to just get a little sweeter.”
Mommy: (hangs head and begins mourning the loss of her Mommy of the Year Award)

Mommy’s Valentine’s Day Confession…

I love all my kids equally. Except the one who gives me cold hard cash as a Valentine’s Day gift. That one I love just a smidge more.


Top Ten Reasons I Most Likely Blew My Chances To Win The 2013 Mommy of the Year Award:

1. I yelled today. Six times. By 8:00 am. Over nonsense which included, but wasn’t limited to, an accidentally spilled cup of chocolate milk, a five-yea…r-old’s tantrum triggered by a minor wardrobe mafunction, and a pile of steaming hot dog shit strategically left right in the path of my bare feet.
2. I forgot to go fods shopping again, so the closest thing to fruit the kids ate with their breakfast today were the fruit loops in their cereal bowls.
3. Dinner came from a box. A blue box. That had the words Kraft, macaroni and cheese on it.
4. I yelled again. Louder than before. At 9:12 am. And this time it included the dramatic bonus of spit flying from my mouth as I roared each syllable.
5. I completely lost my patience and began mumbling obscenities under my breath over the stupid zipper on Camryn’s jacket getting stuck yet again. Sad, but true, a jammed zipper sent me tumbling head first over the edge into the abyss of insanity.
6. I denied the kids’ request to listen to the Kidz Bop version of “Boyfriend” on the way to school because just the mere thought of those not-so-talented kids whining through my car speakers brought on waves of nausea.
7. I also denied the kids next request to listen to the non-Kidz Bop version of “Boyfriend” on the way to school because the mere thought of Justin Bieber’s whiny voice made me queasy as well.
8. I failed miserably at trying to conquer the fancy side braid Olivia wanted so desperately in her hair and sent her
through the school doors with a basic, boring, run of the mill ponytail instead.
9. I forgot to wish Camryn good luck on her Social Studies test when I dropped her at school which means I will fall victim to a severe case of mommy guilt if she happens to forgets some of the seven continents and fails.
10. I will without a doubt make at least 7 (but probably more) of the same mistakes again tomorrow, get knocked on my ass by numerous tidal waves of mommy guilt and once again be sucked into the black hole that is feeling like I royally suck at this whole motherhood thing.

Welcome To The Jungle…

Buckle up.
Secure all loose articles.
Brace yourself.
And hold on tight.
It’s every parent for themself.
Hope for the best, but expect the worst.
Because it’s a f#*king jungle out there.
<honks horn like a lunatic, spews out multiple profanities and dramatically shoots one of her patented Evil Mommy looks at the idiot who swooped in out of nowhere and dared to cut her off in the school pickup lane>

Mommy’s Official List of The Top Ten Most Annoying Children’s TV Shows…

1. Calliou – Because if I really want to listen to a whiny kid, I can just turn the tv off and listen to my own.
2.  Max and Ruby – Because while watching the bossy pants big sister tell her brother what to do I am continuously wondering where the hell are thier damn parents to put her ass in a time out?
3. Wonder Pets – Because no children’s show should teach kids it’s ok to speak like a fuzzy little duckling with a terrible speech impediment that gets around in a flying boat.
4. Dora The Explorer and/or Go Diego Go – Because there just aren’t too many things that are creepier than that way they stare at you while waiting you to answer their asinine questions, such as, Have you seen the pygmy marmoset in the jungle?
5. Mickey Mouse Clubhouse – Because the sound of Mickey calling out to that Toodles contraption is enough to make my skin crawl.
6. Spongebob – Because any show that teaches my young impressionable kids to incorporate such words as diarrhea, stupid and idiot into their everyday vocabulary is an epic fail in my book.
7. The Wiggles – Because when that happy-go-lucky quartet of men begin singing a song about fruit salad being yummy, yummy I contemplate punching the tv screen.
8. Teletubbies – Because brightly colored, alien-esque looking creatures with shapes on their heads who speak in some weird, disturbing language simply scare the living shit out of me.
9. Veggie Tales – Because when vegetables begin singing songs that preach about god and loving thy neighbor I have no choice but to forcefully hit the power button the tv.
10. Barney – Because any show that stars an oversized, purple, talking dinosaur dancing around with “kids” who are clearly way too old to even be on the show deserves to be criticized, ridiculed and boycotted by parents everywhere.


Mommy’s Not-So-Proud, Yet True Confession #62,850:

Although Mommy’s love is unconditional, she will always have a special soft spot for the kid who naps, wipes their own butt, ties their own shoes, and doesn’t exit their room six times afte…r Mommy declares it bedtime with poor excuses such as the need for a glass of water or two, to say goodnight to and bearhug the cat, to discuss which Justin Bieber song is the best to dance to, and to make use of the potty three damn times.
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