It’s a big night for Mommy tonight. And by big night I mean movie rentals, Mexican take out and a chilled bottle of cheap wine while lounging on the couch with my better half. Welcome to Saturday post-kids bedtime…the stuff that Mommy dreams are made of.
Today’s agenda: lots o’ quality family time, smiles and the making of memories. ♥
I’d sell my soul to wake up to the first number on the alarm clock being greater than 7 tomorrow morning. Fingers and toes crossed… because miracles do happen.
One night, getting to sleep at a reasonable hour will finally prevail over mindless Facebooking. However, since it’s now 11:13 pm and I can barely keep my eyes open, that night is not going to be tonight. So, I say damn you, Facebook as I shake my fist at you for sucking me deep into your black hole of nothingness every f#*king night I log in…YAWN.
From best friends to enemies and right back to best friends again in a matter of minutes…such is the life of siblings.
You know your kids actually do listen to you when you overhear the following…
Olivia, 4: “Mommy, cans you gets me somes milk to drink?”
Mommy: (in the process of attempting to conquer cooking dinner, feeding the cats and dogs, reading the mail and unloading the dishwasher)
Camryn, 6: “Olivia! Mommy isn’t two people and she doesn’t have four hands, so get in line if you want milk.”
Olivia, 4: “Um, where’s the line?”
Having kids who spit up on me more times than I can count desensitized me and helped me to finally get over my deeply rooted, yet irrational, fear of vomit. However, after recently getting a cat, I now realize I spent all those years fearing the wrong thing because there is truly nothing more disgusting and stomach turning than bearing witness to a cat puking up a hairball. Oh my god. The memory shall be burned into my brain forever.
This one goes out to my daughters… the next up and coming generation of Where’s the f#*king mommy manual? blogger extraordinaires.
Because I swear I encounter one of these gems every single day…so why would today be any different? So, to the loud mouth ignorant young lady from the supermarket who believed I was truly interested in hearing her pearls of wisdom on how to handle my tantruming kid, I present to you…the FU of the day award.
Friends don’t let friends walk around with stray boogers on their nose, so be a true friend and make fun of your snot covered pal.
Earlier today, my husband and the kids went out on the town and soon after their departure, I happened to come across my husband’s Facebook status which stated the following: “My daughters’ taste in music could be used as a form of torture.”
Truer words have never been spoken and I am so grateful to now know that there is someone else on this earth that can fully empathize with why a little piece inside of me dies each and everytime I drive in the car with the kids and I am forced to endure them pleading with me to leave on Justin Bieber, turn up the volume when One Direction plays and begging me to join them in singing along with that freakin’ Call Me Maybe nonsense.
Camryn, 6: “Hey Mom, ya know what? I really like eating much more than cooking.”
Mommy: “Like mother, like daughter. So, in order to avoid that whole nasty cooking thing you speak of…should we go out or order in for dinner tonight?
This gem is dedicated to my best friend, who just so happens to be my husband…as well as the funniest mofo I ever did meet on this side of the Mississippi…♥
Olivia, 4: “Hey Mom, I know that you know everything there is to know about everything, right?”
Mommy: “I don’t know about that…”
Olivia, 4: “But you have to know about it because you knows everything!”
For days just like today, when I truly don’t even understand myself. FU hormones and your evil ways…
Camryn, 6: “I know I’ve already said this three times today, but I really feel like a grown up with my new pierced ears!”
Olivia, 4: “Yeah, Cam. You are. You looks like a teenager now.”
Camryn, 6: “I know. I do, right.”
Unless it so happens to be pumpkin pie and then all bets are off and the pie is headed straight into mama’s belly. No questions asked.
Come along and join me as I procrastinate and give it my all to avoid folding the laundry, washing the dishes, making dinner, feeding the pets and rounding up the kids for bathtime…
A genie just landed in your house and offers you ONE of the following: a housekeeper, a chef or a live-in babysitter. Who do you pick and why?
Because it’s so very true. Because it is one of my all time favorite quotes. Because it makes you think…
And most importantly…sacrificing the ability to poop in peace. Ah, the life of a mother…it’s a tough job, but someone’s gotta do it.
Mommy Turned Camp Group Leader: “I need to call one of your parents to tell them you hit your head while you were playing, so what is your Dad’s first name?
Four Year Old Camper Boy: “Uhhhhh….Daddy.”
Mommy Turned Camp Group Leader: “Um, yeah. How about Mommy’s first name. Do you know that one?”
Four Year Old Camper Boy: “Yep, I do. It’s Honey. I know that because that’s what my Dad always calls her.”
To the mom who thought it was a good idea to give my kid a toy that squeaks as a birthday gift,
While I do appreciate your generosity, please remeber that your kids birthday is just around the corner and us mommies never forget. Brace yourself for the loudest, most obnoxious sounding toy that money can buy because payback’s a bitch and so am I.
With love,
Mommy
Camryn, 6: “Hey Olivia, did you know you can go to jail for stealing a kid? It’s actually called kidnapping.”
Olivia, 4 (deep in thought) “Yeah, I knewed it already and ya knows what else? People can even goes to jail for catnapping if they steals a cat.”
Camryn, 6 and Mommy: (laughing their asses off)
Olivia, 4: “What?! Guys, it’s true! It really is! I’m not even lying!”
Nevermind the fact that you also shared with the cashier that the reason you needed the potty was because you had to go “pee pee, but no poo poo…”
If for the remainder of today, no one asked me to wipe their butt, feed them, carry them, dress them and/or entertain them, I would most certainly consider myself the luckiest gal on this side of the Mississippi. Just saying.
<end overtired and cranky Mommy’s tantrum>
That moment when your children begin whinning they’re hungry while you’re teetering on the edge of starvation yourself, have lost all motivation to think up a meal and no longer have an ounce of energy left in your exhausted body to even attempt cooking the simplest of entrees. Take out to the rescue…again. Sigh.
I am certain that when found, the Mommy Manual shall state the following on page 32: If, at any moment, you find managing your own two children at all challenging, do not ever sign up to manage 22 additional children at a summer camp for 39 days of a scorchingly hot summer too or risk losing what may be left of your sanity. What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger and luckily, for days like today, when that sounds like a bunch of bullshit…there is a nightly cocktail to offer the strength to make it through another day. 34 days left and counting. I think I can. I think I can…
There’s the the dollar store and then there’s Target…the hundred dollar store. Never fails.
Mommy True Confession #4,568: After giving it much thought, I was able to think up three very good reasons why hijacking a bowl’s worth of the kids’ Lucky Charms for breakfast this morning was totally acceptable…
1. I paid for them.
2. Because the only other cereal in the house, Special K, really is not that special at all and actually pretty damn boring to eat.
3. Rainbow colored, magically delicious marshmallows are always more than welcome in my belly.
I shall take a moment to pause and give big thanks for small miracles…for this is truly one of them.
Just when you think you can’t take another second of having “Call Me Maybe” playing in your head 24/7…along comes this little diddy to take its place and drive you even closer to the edge of insanity.
Dear nosy, obnoxious and completely out of line stranger sitting behind me at the restaurant.
Yes, I am scolding my child for something she did wrong. No, you are not welcome to stare, question why and shoot evil looks my way because of it. Now f#*k off and carry on or else you’re next up in line to feel the wrath of Mommy…and I can guarantee you wiill leave this place crying.
Sincerely, Mommy
“It’s okay if you gets messy when you eats them because they’re called sloppy joes. Right, mama?”…said four-year-old Olivia as she looked up to proudly show off her sloppy joe encrusted ear lobe, nose, cheeks, chin, forehead and right eyelid.
Here’s to hoping Thursday is kinder than Wednesday, because today was a f#*king royal bitch.
Because Facebook birthday love makes the sting of getting another year older that much easier to bear…
Where's the f*#king mommy manual?!? 