*Once you have completed the quiz, please take a quick moment to click the link below to cast your daily vote for WTFMM in Circle of Mom’s 25 Top Mommy Bloggers Contest. Please and thank you.
Parenting Dilemma #45,678: That moment when you aren’t sure whether to simply sit back and indulge in five more minutes of peace and quiet or run at full speed and attempt to divert whatever disaster is about to take place.
So, while you’re enjoying that rare minute of quiet, please take one more second to visit the link below and cast your daily vote for Where’s The F#*king Mommy Manual in Circle of Mom’s Top 25 Mommy Bloggers Contest. Please and thank you.
Now that your teeth have been brushed, stories have been read, pillows have been fluffed, kisses have been given and a quick reminder has been shared to keep your eyes on the prize that is dessert for breakfast…I bid you sweet dreams my little ones and see you at not a minute earlier than 7:00 AM.
…and I’m a blogger who blogs.
*Today’s gentle daily reminder to please support and vote for Where’s The F#*king Mommy Manual in Circle of Mom’s 2013 Top Mommy Bloggers Contest.
You can vote once per day until Feb 13th.
Please and thank, thank, thank you.
6. Learn the skill of using the toilet, showering, brushing my teeth, taming my hair and slapping some makeup on my face in under 3 minutes time.
7. Willingly touch, analyze and discuss in great detail the color, frequency, odor and consistency of another person’s snot, pee or poo with anyone who will listen to the gory details.
8. Be completely at peace with being seen in public, by the same exact people, in the same exact pair of faded black yoga pants, five days in a row.
9. Use my own saliva as a cleaning agent to remove Oreos, banana and other food remnants off of my child’s face after discovering the baby wipes holder in my pocketbook is empty…again.
<Because we all have at least one, you are now cordially invited to share your very own all time favorite “Did my kid really just f#*king do or say that moment” now…>
Tonight’s MNO agenda shall include the following:
1. Order a few bottles of wine.
2. Unanimously agree to completely avoid discussing children and/or anything remotely child-related throughout the duration of the evening.
3. Pour more wine.
4. Begin taking turns rambling about how your kids nearly drove you to the brink of insanity today.
5. Fill empty glasses with more wine.
6. Inconspicuously text husbands to make sure he doesn’t forget to give the kids kisses from Mommy at bedtime.
7. Finish off bottles of wine.
8. Begin sharing insane thoughts on the idea of how truly fabulous it’d be to have another child and to hear the pitter patter of little baby feet running throughout the house once again.
9. Sit back, let the wine wear off and wait for reality to slap you square in the face and knock some f#*king sense into you.
10. Agree that tonight’s conversations shall never leave the table and immediately ask for the check.
Today’s installment of “You Know You’re a Mom When…”
is brought to you by mystery stains everywhere caused by snot, puke, poop, pureed peas and the moms who wear these badges of honor with pride. We salute you.
<tips hat to her fellow crusty stain covered mommies while attemtping to rid her shirt of a pesky chocolate milk stain…>
…even through this morning’s major tantrum over a minor wardrobe malfunction, the late-afternoon freak-out over a grilled cheese being cut into the wrong shape, the after dinner whining over not being allowed to have two desserts, the evening’s groaning over having to do homework, the nighttime moaning over having to take a bath and the grand f*#king finale…not one, not two, but SIX, post-bedtime exits from the bedroom for a cup of water, another hug from Mommy, a second cup of water, a trip to the potty, a second trip to the potty and to offer a detailed minute-by-minute replay of her entire day at school.
I am Mommy and I think I can, I think I can…
6. You will plan, months in advance, to have a night out on the town with your other mommy friends. You will look forward to the two-three hour break from your role as Mommy. However, you will spend 97% of the evening discussing, bragging about and missing your kids.
7. You will effortlessly learn the art of showering in under three minutes and then prioritizing which is more important, mascara or deodorant, when you realize that after then shower you only have two minutes left before having to race the kids to school before the late bell rings.
8. You will forget to put a bra on many mornings, but you will never forget your child’s first word was “gog” as she pointed to the dog, the pink leopard print outfit she had on the day she began to crawl or the white sweater you had on the first time she threw up her pureed peas all over you.
9. You will smile from ear to ear when in a store and overhear a mom say, “Are you serious?! You really pooped in your pants AGAIN?!” and realize this particular poop in not your problem.
10. You will be so excited the end of a long, trying, exhausting day with the kiddies has come to a close and that they are finally snoring away in their beds. However, as you walk past their room on the way to your own comfy bed, you will tip toe into their rooms and stare at them while they sleep for a minimum of twenty minutes each. These times may also be accompanied by tears of joy as you take the opportunity to fully take in their innocence and beauty.
Camryn, 7: “Mom, do you still love me when you yell at me?”
Mommy: “Of course I love you when I yell. I love you no matter what. If Daddy yells, if Grandpa yells, if Grandma yells or anyone else in the family yells we all still love you. Do you understand that?”
Camryn, 7: “Yes, I do. But there’s just one thing.”
Mommy: “What’s that?”
Camryn, 7: “Well, actually, Grandma never, ever yells at me. Like EVER.”
Mommy: (hangs head in shame, tumbles right off her Mommy of the Year pedestal and says a quick prayer that Grandma never, ever gets word of the conversation because she’d never, ever let her live it down)
There’s the Dollar Store.
And then there’s Target…the hundred dollar store.
Because a $3.05 gallon of milk, a dozen eggs for $2.59 and a six-pack of toilet paper for $4.25 always seem to turn into $100.
Without fail. Every damn time.
<shakes fist at Target and all of their fabulous must-haves that always seem make their way into her shopping cart>
Remember, when Mommy nags, yells and screams like a lunatic for you to clean those pigsty-esque rooms of yours…it’s merely because she has your best interests in mind. And when she conducts those pesky random under-the-bed spot checks to make sure you didn’t just do that sneaky trick of shoving all your toys and dirty clothes under there…it means she REALLY loves you.
To My Five-Year-Old Daughter, Olivia;
Thank you for the compliment. You are absolutely correct. Mommies DO know everything. However, please make it a point to direct any and all math-related questions to Daddy. Mommy and math have never really been great friends. Thanks so much for your cooperation.
After many years of interrupted bathroom breaks, I am now completely convinced these kids are born with an internal radar that informs them of the exact moment their parent’s ass makes contact with the toilet seat so that they can immediately swoop in and bombard their mom or dad with total nonsense, such as the need for another Oreo cookie, to sing a few rounds of the ABC song, or discuss, at great lengths, which superhero has the coolest super power and why.
Pooping in peace. It’s the stuff parent dreams are made of.
Spongebob, his ridiculously named moron friends, and anyone on the face of this Earth who ever had anything to do with creating the damn show. Because honestly, after giving it much thought, I really can’t come up with anything that is more annoying to listen to than that f#*king show.
<presses hands over ears in a desperate attempt to drown out the super irritating, foul-mood inducing opening theme as the kids laugh hysterically at a talking sponge who wears underwear…>
Because just at that very moment your child makes their sixth post-bedtime exit from their room and you feel yourself quickly slipping into psycho-screaming-mommy land…they finally do fall asleep looking like innocent angels and make you completely forget how you almost signed yourself into the looney bin just a few minutes earlier. To crazy and back. Without fail. Every f#*king day.
Mommy: “Camryn, I have some sad news to tell you. Grandma and Grandpa’s dog, Tee passed away today.”
Camryn, 7: (after a few moments of silence) “Mom, can you send mail to heaven?”
Mommy: “Um, I guess so. But why do you ask that?”
Camryn, 7: “Oh, I just wanted to send a letter to Tee to let him know how much I’m going to miss him. That’s all.” (grabs a pen, a sheet of paper and begins writing)
Mommy: “I love your idea, Cam. I am sure he’ll love to read it.” (uses every last ounce of energy to hold back tears)
A pink and purple striped sock, three Pokeman cards, a turquoise scarf, a cheesestick wrapper, a naked Barbie doll with pink highlighted hair, an overdue library book, a boot, half of a sky blue crayon, the latest Kidz Bop CD, a battery and a half full cup of water and that was only the walk down the hallway. The excitement of what surprises the living room will bring me is almost unbearable…
Five-year-old Olivia has made four post-bedtime bedroom exits so far tonight. One for water. One for more water. One because she forgot to say goodnight to the cat. And one just to say hi.
Folks, Mommy is quickly approaching the red zone. Brace yourselves and take cover because shit’s about to get cra up in here.
<takes deep breaths while slowly counting to ten>
*credit for this beyond awesome image goes to Rants From Mommyland
Because when you really stop and think about it…this whole laundry, dishes and paying bills thing kinda sucks. Like really f#*king sucks.
<takes a moment to mourn the carefree days when her biggest responsibilities were to decide which toy to play with, which sparkly headband matched best with her new outfit, and which episode of Punky Brewster to watch…sigh>
Because when you stop and think about it’s really quite true.
Usually the angrier you get at your kid…
the more they are acting just like you.
Nauseating, yet completely true story.
<scolds daughter once again for being so sarcastic while enduring the sting of knowing the kid learned it by watching a pro in action…her own mother. Ouch.>
That moment when your five-year-old declares that NOBODY, not even Mommy, can look in her new diary and suddenly a wave of curiousity washes over you and you then find yourself totally obsessed with what she may have written in it…
followed up by that moment soon after the five-year-old falls asleep for the night when your heart simply melts as you glance at page one and get a reminder of how freaking awesome your kid truly is…
<quickly wipes away a couple of tears of joy and quietly puts diary back in the EXACT spot it was found>
That unsettling moment your kid hands you the final copy of their official 2012 Christmas list and it is made up of not one, but two, 11×17 sheets of paper taped together and the first three things on the list begin with the letter i.
<missing the days when a piece of ribbon, a box and some wrapping paper did the trick and did it really f#*king well>
To all my fellow mommies who woke up today swearing today would be the day they wouldn’t yell…and then 7:13 am rolled around and began the morning chaos that was a full glass of spilled chocolate milk, a mountain of mushy dog shit on the rug, multiple wardrobe malfunctions and a few intense rounds of sibling rivalry over such important things as headbands, Pokeman cards and whether to watch Spongebob or Almost Naked Animals…
and that’s about when I decided to say f#*k it, because there’s always tomorrow…or the day after that.
While struggling to find the right words to make my children feel safe, I happened to stumble upon these wise word from the legendary Mr. Fred Rogers on a friend’s Facebook page. Thank you, Mr. Rogers for the reminder that although it a struggle to see it during times like these…there is always something positive to be found beneath it all.
(Please note: the majority of these questions are usually asked through the bathroom door while you are trying to take care of business on the toilet, while you are on an important telephone call, logging onto the computer to read an urgent email, just waking up in the morning, or attempting to put the child to bed for the night.)
Camryn, 7: “So, Mom. I was just thinking about something that I just don’t understand. At Halloween time, I saw they played It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown on TV. And now that it is almost Christmas, I see they are playing A Charlie Brown Christmas on TV. So, when are they going to start showing A Charlie Brown Hanukkah?”
Keeping my eyes on the prize that is the day they finally make their own dinner, do their own laundry, clean their own rooms, tie their shoes and wipe their own butts. Only 35 years, 2 months, 15 hours, 27 minutes and 2 seconds to go.
But, who’s counting? This gal right here, that’s who.
<sounds of “Moooomy! I need yoooou!” fill the house>
Thank you to everyone who posted to…
You know you are in desperate need of a Mommy vacation when ___________.
The replies were beyond funny and had me laughing my ass off for days.
Fellow mommy and author Julie McGrath has selected three winners to receive her new book, Joy-Worthy: A Mother’s Guide to More Joy, Less Stress and No Guilt.
Due to the fact there were so many replies to the post, Julie would also like to offer those who did not win, the opportunity to buy her book at a discounted price.
Visit http://tinyurl.com/BeJoyWorthy to purchase the book.
Because after all, every mommy should have this one on her bookshelf…
Dear Darling Little Angels o’ Mine,
Please make note of the “Do NOT Disturb” sign on the door. Please jot down all messages, requests, demands and complaints on a sheet of paper and then promptly crumble it up and toss it in the trashcan. Thanks so much for your time, patience and understanding. It is greatly appreciated. Mommy shall be back on duty as soon as it is humanly possible.
The Management a.k.a. Mommy
There is no doubt in my mind that these kids were born with an internal radar that notifies them to drop whatever it is they are doing in order to run as fast as they can so they can swoop in at the exact moment Mommy picks up the phone and bombard her with completely unimportant bullshit questions, such as which character is the best on Spongebob, forcing her to have no choice but to press the mute button at least 72 times during a five minute conversation to hide the fact she is yelling at them like a raging lunatic while bribing them with a bag of M&M’s in order to get them to shutup.
Sad, but true story.
Every f#*king time the phone rings…
Dear Overachieving Super-Creative Elf on the Shelf Moms,
Cut this shit out. You’re making us moms who can barely remember to simply move the stupid creepy-eyed puppet each night to a different spot in the house look bad through the eyes of our elf-loving children. Like, really f#*king bad. So, I ask you once again…cut this shit out.
An exhausted mom who forgot to move the dumb elf three times last week and can easily think of 3,438 other things she’d rather spend her time on than staging traumatizing elf scenerios throughout the house each night
That bittersweet moment during the evening when you glance at the clock and find yourself beginning to count how many hours of sleep you will actually get to indulge in before the kids wake you up by parading through your bedroom crashing cymbals together and playing a trumpet while singing their very own mashed-up version of Katy Perry’s “Firework” and Justin Bieber’s “Never Say Never.” <sigh>
Time to start gearing up for yet another crazy Friday night ala Mommy style…So, let the laundry folding, dish washing, toy tidying-up, DVR catching up, snack food gorging, wine consuming, and calling it a day by falling asleep by 8:34 pm begin. Because if being asleep before 9:00 pm on a Friday is wrong…this Mommy don’t want to be right.
With Love and Holiday Cheer,
Feeling good about yourself? Ask your kid to draw a picture of you.
<and feel yourself get knocked down a few pegs after your child proudly hands you their creation and you immediately notice the strikingly obvious resemblance between yourself and Family Guy’s Lois> ‘
*Now, here’s the part where you post a drawing your child made of you and I start to feel better knowing I am not alone in my Mommy portrait woes. Please. Pretty please.
Ding! Ding! Ding!
Folks, it looks like a we have today’s lucky winner.
Let’s hear it for Mommy and her special evening that shall be free of draining, frustrating and straight up annoying homework battles!
A great big congratulations to Mommy!
<Mommy jumps up and down like a lunatic waving no homework pass>
Because after all, what else earns you bonus points towards winning the Mommy of the Year 2012 award like sacrificing a night of sleep, my sanity and my safety while battling the crowds to get my children that Baby Butterscotch Pony, Monster High Draculaura doll, and that Kidz Bop Mega Star Microphone in hot pink that they have been begging you for at least three times a day since they first saw the commericals for them four months ago.
<begins writing her award acceptance speech…>
A mountain of turkey drowning in gravy, two extra large heaping spoonfuls of mashed potatoes, enough stuffing to feed a family of four, and a slice of pumpkin pie the size of my head covered in whipped cream have all taken residence in my belly.
<hangs head in shame while simultaneously beginning to fantasize about once again gorging herself on leftovers tomorrow>
That moment you look back at your kids once last time before they enter the school doors and you start to well up as you watch them take a moment of their own to give eachother a hug before starting the day.
<makes mental note to remind herself of this moment when they return home from school at 3:45 pm and immediately begin screaming at eachother like wild bear cubs over whether they will watch SpongeBob or Victorious.>
Some nights, after one of those especially frustrating, draining and straight up horrible days, when the kids have finally gone to bed and the sweet sound of silence fills the air…I plant my ass on the couch with a super sized bowl of cookies and cream ice cream, pat myself on the back for a job well done and wait for the phone to ring so the Mommy of the Year Board of Directors can tell me where to go to pickup my award. Because, damn it. I earned that shit.
<takes a bow>
Q: What’s worse than being stuck in bumper-to-bumper traffic?
A: Being stuck in bumper-to-bumper traffic with a five and six year old in the backseat who feel it is their duty to remind you every 43 seconds that “the car hasn’t even moved one stupid inch in like forever and because of that you’ll probably never even get them to school before lunchtime today.”
Because even though sometimes I find myself wrapped up in the idea that the number on my scale is supposed to be smaller, my bank account is supposed to be bigger, dinner for the kids is supposed to include a vegetable, the floor of my house is supposed to be free of crumbs, Olivia’s pigtails are supposed to be straight, the wash is supposed to be folded before it wrinkles, my hair is supposed to less frizzy, Camryn’s supposed to clean her room, my skin is supposed to be flawless and I am supposed to be stress and worry free at all times…it’s ok if I’m not.
Strategically hidden behind those boxes of not-so-exciting animal crackers and less-than-thrilling Nilla Wafers in the kitchen cabinet is the home of Mommy’s secret collection of goodness. There you will find such delicious morsels as Peanut Butter Cup Chips Ahoy, Candy Corn flavored Oreo’s and Nutter Butters. And no, Mommy doesn’t share her cookies…ever…with anyone. True story.
Let the good behavior and obeying Mommy’s every single command commence for if it doesn’t my threat to extend a warm welcome to the Elf to stick around our house way after Christmas is over shall become a harsh reality for the little ones.
It’s the most wonderful time of the year…
<insert evil Mommie Dearest-esque laugh>
Mommy: <enters elevator with two daughters at her side and smiles politely at soon to reveal her true colors moron lady>
Moron Lady: “Hmmm. You don’t have any boys, huh? Just girls?”
Moron Lady: <dramtically shaking head in disgust> “Well, you know what? I’d rather have 25 boys that have to raise one girl.”
A big congratulations to moron lady for earning today’s FU Of The Day Award. Your condescending look of disapproval, asinine commentary regarding the gender of my children and uncanny ability to take inappropriate commentary to a whole new level have earned you the FU Of The Day Award.
(*note to self: order two of these gems in a girls size 6 as soon as possible and be sure to have kids wear them when we are in the company of one of those almighty super perfect moms who seem to always be equipped with and ready to spew a perfect solution to your every mommy woe yet their kids are shooting spitballs at everyone in the room while swinging from the chandelier on the ceiling.)
Mom (whispering as if she’s in a helicopter): “Jack, I don’t want you eating anymore of the candy.”
Jack: “But why?”
Mom: “It can make you fat. Give it to me.”
Jack (speaking loudly enough for each and every person in the theater to hear him loud and clear): “Um ok, Mom. But, make sure I don’t catch you eating the candy because after all, it can make YOU fat too.”
<And this round goes to Jack. Well played, little man. Well played.>
You know you are a parent when_____________________.
For example, you know you are a parent when you finally crawl into your bed at the end of an exhausting, overwhelming day and you are greeted by a rainbow colored Slinky, a half-eaten cheese stick and a stuffed animal hedgehog stabbing you in ass.