The Real Reasons We Are ALWAYS Late

“Oh, so sorry we are late. Traffic was crazy.”

This is the generic response that I usually spout off when I am late. And I’m ALWAYS late; sporting events, parties, weddings, you name it. But I beg you, do not judge. There is typically a much more interesting reason that I am late. That would be one of the many REAL ones. Here are a few:

  1. I spent 20 minutes looking for my sunglasses…that were on my head.
  2. Each one of my kids could only find one shoe.
  3. I haven’t shit in a week and took laxatives last night and the gentle overnight relief decided to literally kick me in the ass right when it was time to leave my house. And…I don’t shit in public restrooms, or other people’s restrooms. EVER!
  4. I needed a Diet Coke and even though the line in the drive-thru was wrapped around the building, it was just SO fucking worth it to be late.
  5. My husband and I were fighting and I had to get rid of the intense need to strangle him before we walked in.
  6. I had to let my Xanax kick in.
  7. I couldn’t find my keys and I looked all over the house. I was so stressed that my eyes started watering and then I finally found the damn things in the same drawer I had already looked in five effing times. Then, I went to check my face to make sure it didn’t look like I had been crying and somewhere along the way I set my keys down and they were once again lost.
  8. The outfit I was going to wear was in the washer.
  9. It took my son 17 minutes to brush his teeth, because he just sat there and let the water run and made faces in the mirror.
  10. I set the alarm and woke up on time, but I spent 30 minutes lying in bed, scrolling through Facebook and “liking” everything.
  11. I forgot everything I was supposed to bring and had to go back home to get it all.
  12. I have poor time management in general.
  13. There was a Golden Girls marathon on, and that little firecracker Sophia just leaves me in stitches and I had to finish the episode.
  14. I put on jeans and I felt fat in them, so I changed into leggings, but couldn’t find shoes that looked cute with those, so I put on another pair of jeans. Unfortunately, those showed too much muffin top and so I started throwing shit out of my closet and yelling at my husband about things totally unrelated to the real reason I was upset.
  15. I couldn’t find my two year-old.
  16. I really didn’t want to be the first one to show up at this event, so even though I actually would have been on time, I don’t like awkward situations so I drove down side streets until a few more cars showed up.
  17. I couldn’t find my cell phone anywhere because I was talking on it.
  18. The baby pooped right when I had my hands full and we were walking out the door, so I had to change his pants. By the time I was done, my older son had already taken his shoes off and couldn’t find them.
  19. My dog ran out the goddam door as we were leaving and I had to chase her all over the neighborhood while my kids screamed and sobbed in our driveway as if the world was ending, thus drawing attention of all of the neighbors, while I was running like an idiot calling a dog that doesn’t listen to me any better than my children do.
  20. I’m just a really effed up mess who doesn’t have my shit together.

So, if you ever see that mom that’s trying hard to smile through her tardiness, don’t judge. She’s probably just an effed up mess too.

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Titty Show at the Grocery Store (a memoir)

After dropping off my older boys at school, my two year-old and I set out on a milk mission. Sounds easy enough, right? My little lovey likes to ride in those shopping carts that have the firetrucks in the front so he can pretend to steer. Bad news is, they are low to the ground so they can get in and out by themselves, but the good news is, they usually enjoy riding in them. Even though we just needed milk, I found some great deals on produce. Yippee fucking skippee! I discovered the bee’s knees of bargain berries! I loaded my cart with various fruits including apples and a few melons. As we were leaving, my little lovey spotted the miniature pumpkins on display.

“Baby punkin!” he yelled. “Mama, that’s so cute.”

No, I thought to myself, you are so cute and I will get you that pumpkin to put in your room to decorate for Halloween. I let him hold on to it to keep him happy and all seemed well in grocery land. Just a mother and her little pumpkin (with his little pumpkin), on their way to grab some milk. Lo and behold, I spotted bread and coincidentally about fifteen other things we needed along the way. Finally, I got the milk that we came for. We headed up front and successfully made it to the check out line. I began setting my items on the belt. This is when my toddler decided that he was done sitting.

“Stay in the cart, we are not finished,” I said.

“No mama, I get out!” he yelled (which in toddler translates to: Screw you bitch, I’m outta here).

The firetruck cart was so big that I couldn’t reach to grab him. Before I knew it, he was scat-assing out of the line at what seemed like 50 miles per hour and was heading for the automatic exit door. I shoved the cart to the side and leaped after him like a cheetah chasing her prey. Hallelujah! I caught him before he made it outside. Carrying him under one arm, I made my way back to the check out and finished placing my items on the belt. Much to my dismay, my lovey started yelling, “HELP ME! HELP ME!” Okay now everyone was looking. They were most likely assuming that there was a child abduction taking place. He kicked and twisted. He was literally upside down. The sweet little gray-haired checker looked sympathetically at me over her glasses as she bagged up our little pumpkin.

“Ooh is this a pumpkin to make pies with?”

In my head I thought: Well, actually ma’am do you see what the fuck is going on under my arm right now? Do I look like I make pies? That pumpkin was meant to shut this kid the hell up. Clearly a failed plan. Now put the fucking fall fruit in the bag so I can get out of here, or I will smash that fucker all over this floor!

“Yes, it’s getting to be that season,” I replied with a forced smile.

At that point, little lovey was in an upside down arabesque position and had a foot kicking me repeatedly in the chin. I was seriously on the verge of a full blown panic attack.

“Mama’s butt!” he yelled. The checker’s eyes widened. Why was my child saying this? OMG! I felt eyes on me, like literally felt people’s stares burning through my skin. I held it together as best I could. I had this panicky feeling and and uncontrollable urge to grab a paper bag and put it over my head so people couldn’t see me. Because, you know…that would help.

Oh yes. Now the crazy lady is wearing a brown paper bag over her head and is blindly running into various displays around the store with her child still hollering about butts. But at least we can’t see her face.

Fortunately, my debit card was in my back pocket, so I slid it through the swiper. I nailed it. I could see the finish line. I was almost done. However, the 18 year-old sacker had a look on his face like he’d never seen anything like this before. I felt like a total loser, a failure, and an incompetent mother. I felt like the entire store was watching a freakshow, starring me.

Steering the gigantic cart with one hand and holding a tantruming toddler in the other, I pushed the wobbling metal cart from hell out to my minivan with stares coming from every direction. Fishing through my bag for keys and still holding on to my kid for dear life, my son started yelling again, “Mama’s butt! There’s Mama’s butt cheek!” Good gracious, I had no idea why he was saying this. WTF? I was still fumbling for my keys. Looking down into my purse, I did a double take as I was now stunned to be looking at my right breast. My shirt had been pushed down somehow through the tantrum and was now laying under the right cup of my bra exposing my jug. To make things even better, the bra had been shifted, allowing the fellow patrons of the market to see the upper portion of my areola and nipple sticking out as if it just wanted to be part of the action. Fan-fucking-tastic. I had just put on a titty show at Price Chopper. I finally found my keys, unlocked my doors, and immediately put my son in his seat. My knocker was still soaking up the breeze in all it’s glory. I gently placed my ta-ta back where it was supposed to be in it’s holder and pulled my shirt back in position. I violently threw my groceries in the back of my van and drove straight home where I made him sit down while I rambled on about good and bad behavior. I’m pretty sure the lecture I gave him was useless, as he looked past me and asked for fruit snacks, but whatever.

I just have to wonder, that if I can hardly make it through the grocery store, how am I going to make it through life? I see moms do this all the time! This is my third child! I should be better at this by now! Ugh…But oh well. Wardrobe malfunctions happen I guess, and it is kind of funny that my kid thinks my boobs are buttcheeks and that it was not just milk “jugs” or water “melons” that got checked out in the supermarket line this morning. And hell, the sacker got a free show, even if it was from some crazy mother with a screaming child.

Who knows, maybe I’ll even make a pie…? But probably not.

Some of the Most Effed Up Things I’ve Done Since Becoming a Mother

  1. I once took my son to the doctor because when he woke up his face was purple. It turned out to be dye from his blue pillow case.
  2. I drove around the church preschool on my kid’s first day for two hours like a lunatic and I saw nothing except a brick building. I am lucky they didn’t call the cops.
  3. Waking up violently puking with a stomach bug, I was hanging over the toilet when mid-vomit…a wiener showed up next to me and peed in the same toilet I was currently hurling in. This was also the moment I realized I will NEVER have a moment of my own.
  4. I forced a friend to dress up like a stormtrooper with me and made my husband dress up like Darth Vader to put on a master Jedi Training Class for my son’s 5th birthday party. I was the first pregnant stormtrooper in history.
  5. The day I found out I was pregnant with my first child, I called in sick to work because I was too excited to do anything but look online at baby things.
  6. At 40 weeks pregnant with my first, I would jump off the bottom stairs repeatedly and walked around doing squats, hoping to start labor, only to have a c-section.
  7. After sending my son to bed for the night because he was being so NAUGHTY, I felt really guilty. So once he fell asleep, I climbed in bed with him and held his hand while he slept…all night.
  8. I once had all three kids in their own beds and my husband was out of town and I was too scared to step on the creak in the floor by the stairs and wake them up, so I hit the deck and slept on the floor in the hallway in all my clothes, contacts, with no pillow or blanket. Needed to make a chiropractor appt. the next day.
  9. Once when I was pregnant I dreamed my baby was so big that I would have to deliver on an airport runway. I then gave birth to two killer whales and a dolphin. I actually woke up in a panic trying to figure out how to get them into salt water. Wtf?
  10. After a night of NO sleep (since I have children who are nocturnal), I once got in the shower with my pajamas on. No joke.
  11. I realized one day that it was 4 o’clock in the afternoon and I had not yet taken a piss or eaten anything the entire day. (This still happens but usually not 4 o’clock)
  12. When I was nursing one of my babies, my tatas were completely out of milk and he was still hungry. Desperate to feed him I smacked my own boobs and called them worthless whores. I am NOT kidding. That’s pretty effed up.

Can’t believe I am admitting some of these, but what the hell. Maybe it will make you feel normal! And shit, I don’t ever claim to be normal :)

Random Thoughts in the School Pick-Up Line

  1. Why am I always at the end of this freaking line?

  2. My phone’s almost out of batteries. Cool.

  3. What the hell am I going to make for dinner tonight?

  4. Ooh, look at that lady’s cute short haircut.

  5. Maybe I should cut my hair like that.

  6. Nah, I’d probably look like The Karate Kid.

  7. Maybe I’ll make spaghetti tonight.

  8. Oh there’s that sexy dad. How you doin?

  9. I wonder if he’d mind if I just sat on his lap for a minute.

  10. Ugh…I’ve only got 3% battery left on this stupid phone.

  11. I hate this damn phone.

  12. I hate spaghetti.

  13. Like a good neighbor, State Farm is there.

  14. Okay bell…ring. Ring muthafucka ring muthafucka ring!

  15. I’m never going to get out of here.

  16. Ooh…that lady’s dress is SO cute!

  17. I should wear dresses.

  18. I wish I had some chocolate.

  19. Maybe instead of spaghetti, I’ll make tacos tonight…from Taco Bell.

  20. Oh man, I need to pluck my eyebrows. I look like Chewbacca.

  21. My pores are huge, you could play putt putt golf in these things.

  22. Okay seriously, either my clock is wrong, or the bell is not ringing on time.

  23. What is that smell?

  24. Did we leave leftovers in here somewhere?

  25. Ooh, look…The Robinson’s got a new car.

  26. My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard…

  27. Okay seriously, this bell needs to ring because I have to pee.

  28. That lady over there looks just like Star Jones.

  29. Whatever happened to Star Jones?

  30. Thank God. The bell’s ringing.

  31. And here comes the stampede.

  32. I mean would it hurt these people to scoot up just a teeny tiny bit to make room for us at the end?

  33. Good Lord, I can’t imagine letting my daughter wear shorts that short. What is she, one of The Junior Pussycat Dolls?

  34. Okay guys, let’s move.

  35. Move your asses!

  36. What in the ever loving hell is that smell?

  37. Okay, like 200 kids have passed by me and none of them are mine.

  38. I think I see one of mine.

  39. Nope, not him.

  40. Hey there’s my friend Lori…hi there! (wave)

  41. Oh crap that wasn’t her.

  42. I’m going to pretend I’m swatting a fly so that woman won’t think I’m crazy.

  43. Too late. She thinks I’m crazy.

  44. Where are my freaking kids?

  45. I have to pee so bad.

  46. There’s one of mine.

  47. I hope their teachers don’t need to come talk to me, because I don’t want them to catch a whiff of whatever died in the back of this minivan.

  48. Okay…my phone is now completely dead. Awesome.

  49. There’s my other kid.

  50. That little boy over there looks like that cute little kid from Jerry Maguire.

  51. Alright, hurry up dude.

  52. Everything is awesome, everything is cool when you’re part of a team.

  53. Come on guys, sometime today…

  54. I think they purposely walk slow to annoy me.

  55. Slow as mol-ass-es…

  56. Okay, no teachers are coming…so that’s good.

  57. O.M.G. This dude in front of me is going to have scoot up or I’m going to have to tap that ass of his Ford Focus, 30 day tags or not. I don’t give a f*ck.

  58. I’m literally going to piss myself.

  59. Here they are.

  60. I missed them today.

  61. I see two kids, but only one backpack.

  62. I’m going to pretend like that’s not happening.

  63. Now let’s get the hell out of here before they notice its missing and my bladder explodes.

And that concludes my thoughts while waiting in the pick-up line. I’ll be there again tomorrow, same time, same place in the dirty minivan, in the back of the line. I just hope I can figure out what the hell that smell is by then.

Like it if you like it, and thanks for reading my posts because you are the sh*t!

Dear Chatty Cathy,

                   I get it. You want to relax. I see you have a friend there on the bench with you. Playdate, huh? It sure is a great day to be at the park. I’m sure you are catching up, aren’t ya? It’s great to have friends. We moms definitely need our friend time. You are so engrossed in conversation that you feel like a person again, because you’ve done nothing but play with kids since like…forever. I get it. But guess what? We have a wee bit of a problem here…your son is a dick and will most likely grow up to be a serial killer.

Did that sound mean? Well shit. I’m sorry. But it got your attention didn’t it? I’m glad it did, because the fact that your older and larger son just hit my toddler in the face and threw mulch in his eyes sure didn’t. So this here is where the problem lies, I want your kid to quit hurting mine. Is that too much to ask?

I’m sure you are exhausted. That little dandy of a child probably leaves you no down time. Guess what? I totally understand. He’s sure cute. But he’s mean as fuck. No no…I know how much you love him. I respect that and I’m sure he’s just having a bad day. All kids hit at some point, right? In fact, this is my youngest and I have two older boys. So m’lady…I know they can act like little psychopaths, especially in public. I’m sure that he is so sweet when you are at home alone and he gets all cuddly and says all kinds of cute shit. I know you probably dress him up in outfits and post pictures of him for all of your friends to “like” on Facebook. I’m also sure that while you are totally busy gabbing away, that I saw him put another kid in a choke hold and just FYI: he pushed your friend’s little girl off the slide and she’s crying. Yeah, he’s a doll. Just adorable.

Now that you know this keen information, I’d like to offer my advice. Please don’t mistake this for judgment. I am on your team. Moms have to stick together, ya know. Okay, are you ready? Here it goes:


See, I told you. I’m not judging. In fact, I’m pretty sure we could be pals. We could invite your friend and we could be a trio. The Three Amigos! We could set up play dates with the kids and go to terrible bounce-house places and we could all get the strep throat together. It’s just that before we can do that, you got to watch that kid of yours. I’m pretty sure my kid isn’t going to want to play with him. You know how I know that? Because my kid is crying and running for his life. Perhaps, if you’d, get off your ass and watch your fucking kid, then you could put a stop to his violence and my kid wouldn’t be terrified of yours. Maybe then, there’d be hope of them developing some sort of rapport, if you will.

If you aren’t interested in my offer of friendship, then no hard feelings. In that case, take this additional piece of advice. It’s okay to be socializing at the park, we all need a break. It’s okay to let our kids go play and be independent. However, glance up once in a while. If you let your kid kick everyone’s ass at the park, not only will innocent kids get hurt, but that lovey of yours isn’t going to learn how to be nice, and no one is going to want to play with him. Not much fun for the little Ted Bundy, now is it? If you have a hitter, or an aggressive child, it doesn’t mean that they will always be this way. Just get off your ass and make him be nice. Trust me, I’ve had a hitter, and it took some work, but now things are going quite swimmingly. Some kids just need a little help learning how to interact with other kids and that’s okay. That’s what you are there for. See how that works? So get up Buttercup. Don’t just do it for me and my kid. Do it for you and yours.

To All The Rockstar Moms…

Hey lady. What up? Your kids won’t sleep? That sucks. But it won’t stop you, will it? You work all day and party all night. This my friend, is because you…yes YOU…are an effing ROCK STAR!

You are serving up drinks all night (water at 1 a.m.), making booty calls (bathroom visits) and flashing your breastesses (nursing) all over the place. You are the badass that makes it rain with kisses and love and shit up in here, and let’s not forget how you’ve been known to drop a few beats. Your version of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star is the stuff legends are made of. Especially how you put that bravado on the end, I mean please.

But that’s how you roll. You TCOB. Shit, you haven’t slept in months, maybe years, but that doesn’t stop you. You lay still as stiff as a board on that neglected bed with one ear open until you hear the wail on the monitor and you are up, up, on your feet for the third time in four hours. Go on with your bad self. Get that baby back to sleep so that you can get up again when the other kid needs you. You know damn good and well that you’re tired but you’re also a boss, applesauce. You know that dozing off is like breaking the seal and it’s best to just throw your hands up in the air and wave ‘em like you just don’t care. Sleep is for the weak and you…YOU. ARE. A. BEAST.

In the morning you look good enough already, so you don’t need a shower. Besides, being the VIP that you are, you have places to go and people to see. The other moms are counting on you to bring Goldfish to playgroup cuz you know how your posse gets the munchies, right? Look at you. Effing rockstar. You also have errands to run, and by errands, I mean who the hell else could get through the grocery store with a headbangin mosh pit like yours? Your kids want to party too. They want fruit snacks? Hook it up. They want Sun Chips? You got a coupon for that, so Hook. That. Shit. Up! Yeah, you take care of your entourage. You got their backs. You even have wet wipes in case someone gets too turnt. (I’m not exactly sure what that means)

The most amazing thing of all, is that you can put groceries away, make it to whatever practices or activities your kids have (fashionably late of course), have a kick-ass Lego party and get dinner on the table with NO sleep. What’s up now?! I said what’s up now?! That’s what I thought. Hells yeah. Once you clean that shit up, give baths and put the kids to bed, you’re so tired that you can’t see straight and feel like you’ve chugged a RedBull laced with Roofies. That my friend, is called adrenaline. That’s what’s running through your veins. That’s your fuel and that’s what’s gonna get you through another night of partying. So raise your glasses.

To all the mommies in the house come on, let me hear ya say, “Aww yeah”

“Aww yeah”

To all the daddies in the house come on, let me hear ya say, “My Wife Rocks”

……What? Where’s Daddy? Wait, he’s sleeping? Oh. Okay. That figures. Wake his ass up! Invite him to the party. The more the merrier. No I’m serious. It’s HIS effing turn. Get him up and you just lay down and get some sleep. I know. I know. But seriously girl, you gotta get some rest. I said, go to sleep. Shit. Quit arguing and go the hell to sleep. Give baby daddy the monitor and shut your eyes. I’m not messing around. You’ve been doing too much partying. Now Goodnight! I said Good NIGHT!

Rockstar primadonna mamas…think they know everything….

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The Vada Diaries (Short Stories and Confessions of a Crazy Mother) is FREE Aug12th-15th on Amazon Kindle! Click here on this big giant book, because I can’t figure out how to make it smaller. Oh my that’s big!


10 Things That Make You Go Hmm…

  1. The piss that gets down on the sides and by the bolts of the toilet and you know it wasn’t you because you are a female and your lady bits cannot physically export urine down and around the sides of the toilet like that…but you still clean it up.

  2. When you take a sip of your kid’s drink and you can actually chew the contents.

  3. In a movie theater when you are there with your kids and super tall-man-giraffe sits right in front of your small child even though you are the only two families in the entire theater.

  4. When you step on a wet spot on your carpet and shiver.

  5. Smart cars.

  6. Looking at pics of people’s family vacations on Facebook and seeing how happy they are, but on your family trip it was miserable because one of your kids had fever and you and your hubby weren’t speaking because he can’t focus.

  7. The temperature at your “women’s visits.” It always so sweaty hot that by the time the doctor comes in that he has to peel you open as you’ve melted together.

  8. When people post something on Facebook like this, “Paulina is feeling-enraged.” And you are like, why? Wouldn’t Paulina say why she’s enraged? If I ask, would that be rude? Maybe she wants to keep her rage private?! But then why would she post it? 


  9. The fact that people willingly run for office.

  10. When there is a bike lane, yet the bicyclists still use the car lane…in traffic…causing all the cars to almost crash because they are avoiding the dude in the tight shorts who is NOT using the bike lane.

Hmm….that’s all I can say. If you like it then bitch-slap that button down there! Thanks!