Does She Cuss Like That In Front Of Her Kids???

Being a blogger/writer person I have gotten use to criticism. I ALWAYS read the comments. I’m super lucky because I feel like I have the most supportive and awesome followers and you have no idea how much that means to me. I love to see people’s points of view and how they react to the things that I’ve written. I can take the heat, good or bad. However, the one comment that makes me cringe is this one. You ready? Okay here it is:

“Oh the language in this article! Does she cuss like that in front of her kids?”

I’m gonna settle that shit right here and now in my own typical sarcastic way. Yes. I do.

In fact, this morning as my three kids woke up and walked in the kitchen, I greeted them with, “Good morning fuckers!” I then gave them cereal, orange juice and a gummy vitamin. We had a fairly crazy morning as usual. “Okay boys, go brush your goddam teeth and fix your hair,” I said with a friendly smile.

After I threw a signed permission slip in my oldest’s backpack, I gently reminded him, “make sure you turn in this motherfucking permission slip buddy, or your ass isn’t going on that damn field trip. I don’t want you to miss it, ’cause that shit’s gonna be educational as fuck.”

He promised me that he wouldn’t forget.

I hugged and kissed my two oldest sons goodbye. “You guys get out there and make this day your bitch, okay? Oh, and sweethearts, please don’t act like dickheads at school! I love you, you little assholes!”

After that I went and read a book with my 4 year-old. First he chose a Dr. Seuss book, but I explained to him that I couldn’t handle that shit right now so to go pick a different one. When he returned with, “I Love You Forever” I clapped and yelled, “Awwwww shit! This book used to make me cry like a pussy ass bitch, but I love it. Now get over here and let’s read this shit.”

Then my phone rang. “Oh son-of-a-whore!” I yelled. “Why the hell do these motherfuckers always have to interrupt story time?” I declined the call. The story continued and we finished it with a giant bear hug and then read one more. Next, we had a great idea to go surprise his older brothers at school and meet them for lunch. They were so excited to see us!

“WHAT UP BITCHES?!?!” I threw my hands up and yelled as we walked into the cafeteria. “LET’S GET FOOD! I’M SO HUNGRY I COULD EAT MY OWN TITTIES RIGHT NOW!” I went and sat with my boys and talked a bunch of shit to the kids at the next table. It was really special and I love getting to spend any extra time I can with my children. These moments go by so fast and (like Steven Tyler) I don’t wanna miss a thing.

After a fantastic lunch, they hugged me and their little brother goodbye, and I turned and yelled, “I’ll see you little bastards after school! I love the shit out of you!” I blew a kiss in their direction, flipped them off and walked out the door.

BUT REALLY…

If I stub my toe in front of my kids, I may say “shit.” Or if I drop something, it may occasionally be an F bomb. I am a grown up and once in a while I may say a bad word in real life. But the fact of the matter is, I write for an adult audience. My children don’t read my blog. So basically, someone suggesting that I “cuss like that in front of my kids” in the same way I write a humorous article, well that’s just the dumbest fucking shit I’ve ever heard.

I hope that clears things up a bit.

I love all you motherfuckers!!! Thanks for reading me 🙂

I Just Don’t Have My Sh*t Together

Are you often referred to as a “hot mess,” a “trainwreck,” or “that mom?” Well guess what? So am I. And I don’t give an F-word. It’s just how I roll. There are so many scenarios in which I do not have my shit together, but I’m trying hard. I really am.

*I mean, so what if I send school permission slips in with a dab of spaghetti sauce on them once in a while?

*Who cares if I forgot that it’s “hat day,” or “pajama day,” or “wear a flip-flop on your ear day” at the kids’ school? If it wasn’t important enough for the kids to remember, then that’s on them, K? Not me.

*And yes you can ride with me, just slide all that shit off the passenger seat onto the floor and I’m sorry all the cupholders are full. They are all old drinks, so feel free to dump one out the window and throw the cup in the back to make room for your pretty water bottle.

*No sorry, I don’t carry Band-Aids, Kleenex, or hand sanitizer on me, but I could offer you a hug and some Goldfish crackers?

*I know…I know…my kiddo is wearing two different shoes and the the other one has his shirt on inside-out. But really, it’s that third kid…you can’t see it, but his underwear are on backwards, I mean that can’t be comfortable.

*I may not be excellent at returning phone calls, but it tends to get loud in my house and I don’t want to be rude by yelling, “SHUT YOUR BIG YAPPERS!” at my kids while I’m on the phone. I’ll get back to you eventually, I promise. Let’s just text, shall we?

*I’m sorry I have a “late problem.” From now on let’s just add 30 minutes on to whatever time I say I’m going to meet you. Problem solved.

*Okay, so I accidentally sent my kids to school without coats today in the 30 degree temps because I was looking at the forecast in Vegas instead of the local weather. BUT…I took coats up there once I realized it, so it’s cool.

*Oh good gracious. Would you look at that? I can’t seem to find my credit card for all of these groceries that are already rang up. Yes, I know there’s people behind me. I swear I just had it. Oh for the love of….oh wait! Here it is at the bottom of my purse. Sorry about that. It was underneath two matchbox cars and a Pull-Up that’s been in my purse for months. Oops-a-daisy. Is it the green or red button for credit? Oh wait…this is debit.

*My kid is having a birthday party and guess what? You are invited!!! When is it? Tomorrow at noon. Late notice I know, but don’t worry…it’s no biggie. I won’t get mad if you can’t come and I don’t even expect an RSVP. I don’t keep track of shit like that, so no pressure.

*Oh man! I know I was supposed to make a dessert, but these store-bought cookies are better than anything I could hand-make. I’m not very good in the kitchen, but I still like to contribute. So here ya go. And I brought wine. So now there’s wine.

*I can’t confirm plans, but I’ll make tentative ones with you. I can’t set anything in stone. One of my kids WILL puke if I do so. It’s almost like magic. I just don’t jinx myself and more importantly, I don’t jinx my kids like that.

*Please excuse the fact that the receipt with your kiddo’s birthday present shows the date and time and you can clearly see that I bought it on the way here. I mean, it’s the thought that counts and we showed up. And aww snap…I actually remembered to ask for a gift receipt this time. Sorry I forgot a card though. Damn, I always forget the card!

*I am dressed up for this event! Okay, so they may be jeans, but they aren’t yoga pants and I didn’t sleep in them last night. What do you want from me? A freakin’ kidney?

*My phone is out of battery. It was laying by the charger all night but I forgot to plug it in. And I forgot the car charger in my house. Yes, I know it belongs in my car. Yes, I know it’s not that hard. No further questions please.

The list could go on and on.

So yes, I tend to be the mom that’s all over the place. But hey, it’s not the end of the world. There are plus sides to being this way. I can laugh at myself and I don’t judge other moms. I’m able to look beyond their disheveled hair and shirt stains and see that there may be some major behind-the-scenes shit that they ARE holding together. And when dealing with BIG stuff, some of us tend to forget trivial details. Many of us are forgetful. Lots of us are overwhelmed. Many of us are smiling through exhaustion, or depression, or some other major life stressors. And honestly, this “ hot mess” vibe is just the way that some of us are wired. We are doing the best we can.

At the end of the day, there’s no trophy or award given to the mom that has it all together. And I wouldn’t want it anyway because it would probably just end up broken, lost, or covered in something sticky, cause you know…

I just don’t have my shit together.

Bitch slap that like or share button if ya liked this!! Thanks!

Where Did It All Go Wrong?

Where did it go wrong? How did I end up here? Here, meaning behind the keyboard literally slamming each letter that I type with stiff fingers because I’m so effing done with this day. Am I bitching? Yeah, maybe I am. Sorry about that. I’m not trying to be a whiner. But I’m also trying to pinpoint the exact moment that I broke. It could have been any of the following:

  1. When one kid decided to “jump in the shower” five minutes before we were supposed to walk out the door for school.
  2. When we were running late for one of the kid’s dentist appointments to get a cavity filled and we got stopped by a train, moving…at…the…speed…of…a…three…toed…sloth…
  3. When I went to take a kid back to school and my 3 year-old ran ahead of me looking as if he was in a slot tournament, and pressing the school’s doorbell about 50 times before I could reach him.
  4. When I took another kid to a doctor’s appointment and my 3 year-old decided to tell the therapist that his mommy has boobs, two of them. And then told him that he likes zombies and blood. Yeah, that was fun.
  5. When my 7 year-old decapitated his little brother’s Play-doh gingerbread man and by his screaming, blood curdling reaction, one would have thought that he was passing a marble-sized kidney stone.
  6. When I told my son to get his guitar and notebook ready, because he had to leave in 5 minutes and 5 minutes later, I looked out the window as he rode barefoot on his bike past the house with no musical instrument in sight.
  7. When I let my youngest two kids go 5 houses down to a friend’s to play basketball and as I looked up from pulling weeds, saw my 3 year-old pissing in their driveway.
  8. When I made them both come home and “sit and think about how to act” and the next thing I knew they had each other in chokeholds.
  9. When I decided I was so thirsty so I grabbed the milk jug and took a big swallers, only to realize it was sour and expired and so now I’m a vegan. Milk was a bad choice.
  10. When I realized that I had been literally yelling every word that I had been saying to my kids for the last thirty minutes and my face and neck were sore from scowling.
  11. When I got a throbbing headache right behind my left eyeball.
  12. When my kids wanted snacks but they didn’t want to share, so they made two separate bags of popcorn and I had nothing left in me to fight it so they can just have the fucking popcorn because I. Don’t. Care. As. Long. As. They. Stop. Fighting.

Yeah, it could have been any of these things.

I may not be able to pinpoint the exact moment things went to shit today, but it doesn’t really matter because it’s only 6:20 p.m. right now.

They may not be finished with me yet…

Thanks For The Minute

My kids are friggin’ high maintenance. I’m just being honest. I love them more than anything, but damn they are needy. From the time my eyes open, until the time they close, I probably hear the word, “mom” over a hundred and fifty times. It’s like they are afraid that if I’m not looking directly at them at all times, they will have to seek counseling for abandonment issues. All this time we spend together is great and all, but it’s also exhausting.

My mother stayed with me last night. She knew we’ve had a lot going on lately with my kids being sick on and off and my husband was out of town, so she packed her little bag and came over to “help.” (Honestly, I think she wants to make sure I remember to lock my doors and not talk to strangers, you know…typical mom-type things).

I woke up at 6 a.m. knowing my kids had early dentist appointments and immediately heard, “Mom, if you fell from 8 feet on a pillow would you die or would the pillow save you?” DAMMIT! I was hoping to get some coffee before the little minions sensed that I was awake. Searching for my contacts, I looked up to see my 7 year-old standing there in his jammies. I remember just thinking, ALREADY??? IT’S STARTING ALREADY??? Mumbling a random answer, I made my way to the kitchen to start breakfast. He followed me. “Mom, do you think people who live in Florida go to Disney World like every single day?” More questions. Then I felt another minion was lurking behind me, “Mom, can I have some water?” It was my 3 year-old. NOOOO! I wasn’t ready for him yet. Needed coffee. Needed to pee. Haven’t peed. “Mom, did you send in my yearbook order form?” came a voice from behind me. It was my 9 year-old with his eyes halfway open. I’M NOT READY!!! FOR THE LOVE OF HARRISON FORD, I’M NOT READY!!

Suddenly, like a walking care package, my mother trotted into the kitchen. She was showered, bright eyed, bushy tailed and ready for work. WTF? She’s all ready to go and I look like an extra on the set of The Walking Dead. She told me to just go and get ready and she’d make sure the boys got breakfast and got dressed. I began to protest, but my bladder wasn’t having it. I thanked her and took off to my room. That’s when a choir of imaginary angels surrounded me and sang a beautiful hymn as I took my morning piss in peace.

I began to wash my face when suddenly, I heard a voice from downstairs. “Mommmmm!” SHIT! SHIT! SHIT! THEY’RE AFTER ME! Then it happened. I heard the words. The four words I have been needing to hear for so long. It was my mother’s voice.

“Give her a minute.”

Basically, my mother was telling my kids to back the hell off. They listened. I carried on my “get ready routine” with no interruptions. The whole time I felt this insanely weird sense of protection. The only way I can describe it is feeling like I was in prison, but had a protector who wasn’t going to let anybody mess with me. Only thankfully I didn’t have to do anything freaky to get this protection, because that would just not be okay on so many levels.

I desperately needed a minute.

I finished getting ready in a nice quiet bathroom. I had makeup on. I had my hair looking decent. I brushed my teeth, got dressed and went down to find all three boys completely ready with shoes on and all!  And there stood my “prison protector” smirking, like…Bitchyou’re welcome.

So now that I returned to my children, I was in a great mood. I was ready to take on the pediatric dental experience. I was even smiling. No joke. I’m just not used to being able to take time for myself as I’m just normally scrambling to get everyone else ready. It was such a simple thing, but I was so grateful. I grabbed my mother and kissed her face while she cracked up laughing. Then I loaded up the offspring and away we went into the morning sun, listening to metal in the minivan.

Having kids is a full-time job (cue all the people that get offended because I used the word “job”) Sun-up to sun-down, and often in the middle of the night can really take a toll on a person, especially if your little critters are high maintenance.  With all the questions, needs, and wants from our littles, a break can be a precious thing. Sometimes we need a vacation, sometimes we need a girls’ night out or maybe a date night. But sometimes, just sometimes…all we really need is a damn minute.

*So Mom, THANKS FOR THE MINUTE.

If They Made Perfect Perfumes…For Moms

I’ve had a lot of fun looking at all the commercials for perfume lately. Women, stripping their clothes walking in heels, rolling on beaches without getting sand in their mouths, running through enchanted forests. But wow! I have three kids…so sucking on diamonds isn’t something I can relate to. So I made some that I think mamas like me would definitely splurge on.

Mildly Pleasant-2

Caffeinated

Edge-offPREGGERS

ANXIETY-3

Back Pain

Exhaustion-2

Over ItCABIN FEVER

MARRIED

Cravings

SOOO…pick your fragrance…

Hope this made you SMILE!!

Post-Social Anxiety, The Struggle Is Real

Many of us know the struggle called social anxiety. It sucks.

For those who don’t, it’s that feeling you get when you have to talk to people or join a crowd (hell it can even be only one person) and your stomach starts churning and you break out in a sweat. It’s basically a general feeling like you may just crap your pants.

But how many people out there experience Post-Social Anxiety?

I’m raising my hand right now. You can’t see it, but I’m raising it high and waving it around like an obnoxious know-it-all high-school student who sits in the front of the classroom, because I know it. Post-social anxiety is my worst enemy. To give you an idea of what it’s like, here are a few possible scenarios:

SO:

*You and your hubby went to dinner with another couple. You complimented your friend’s dress and told her she looked beautiful. You also supplied her husband with a friendly compliment, saying something like, “Well look at you looking all dapper and snazzy!” smiles and greetings…no big deal. You always like to make people feel good. I mean who doesn’t like a compliment?

The next day you think: OMG!!! I bet they think I wanted to have a three-way or a four-way! Why would I have said they look nice? Now they are going to think my husband and I are swingers!!! My stupid compliments! Who says snazzy?!? What an awful word! WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME?

OR:

*You were in parent-teacher conferences. Your child’s sweet teacher was going over the grade book. She showed you a little report that your child wrote about lizards. You laugh and tell her that he probably chose that animal because he got a lizard for his birthday and he named it Marty McFly because he is obsessed with Back to the Future. You go on about how he is loving school and everything is so jolly. You end the conference on a good note and head out to your car.

Boom. You open your car door and think, did I just take over the conference?!? She probably thinks I have a big fat mouth! What if she wasn’t done showing me projects and maybe there were issues she needed to discuss with me and now I’ve ruined the whole thing by changing the entire 20 minutes into ME telling HER about my child!! It was supposed to be the other way around. I can never show my face at school again!!! I’m going to have to request a transfer or start homeschooling immediately!

OR:

*You get invited to a party. Not just any party, but say for example a 31 or Pampered Chef type party. You sip on wine and talk about how great the products are. You are having a great time, but feel like things are wrapping up. You make your selections and place your order. You hug the hostess goodbye and are on your merry way.

After exiting you think, Well shit. What if I ordered the least amount? What if I drank more dollars’ worth of wine then what I spent on products? Oh great, now I’ll be known as the cheapskate who comes only for the drinks. And the hug at the end??? What was that? I bet she thinks I’m creepy for hugging her goodbye! Well…there went my reputation. The cheap, drunk hugger. That’s me.

AND…let’s not forget to mention post-social media anxiety!! This one’s a real motherf*cker.

*You took the cutest picture of your little one and you just couldn’t help but smile in admiration, you added a cute caption and posted that bad boy on Facebook and Instagram. Oh…I mean, how freaking cute, right???

20 minutes later…OMG! This only has 2 likes? That’s it??? What if I am an over-poster? I know I posted that funny video yesterday of those supermodels falling off the catwalk, so maybe this is too much? Have my Facebook friends had enough of me? I bet they’ll unfriend me. I have no friends. I’m gonna move to a tiny house out in the woods with no wi-fi so I can never use social media again!!

Anyways…you get the idea. If you struggle with post-social anxiety, take comfort in the fact that you are not alone. We are in this together.

In fact, after posting this, I’m going to be anxious and judge myself for even writing it. I’ll think…I’m so freaking stupid. Why did I do that? I bet everyone is talking about how I’m a crap-shit writer and they all bet that I’m really annoying in real life. I bet they think I smell.

Oh shit!!! What have I done?!!

****like or share if you like & thanks for reading****

Awesome-Ish Answers To Pregnancy Questions

Many questions will be asked of a pregnant lady. There are lots of awesome ways to answer! I personally was never offended by pregnancy questions. I am however…a giant smartass, so without further adieu…

Announcing I was pregnant with my second child, when my first was 8 months old.

“Did you guys do that on purpose?”

No. Ya see…what happened was my husband and I were both walking on a luxurious marble floor that was covered in melted butter and for some reason, neither of us were wearing any pants. We both slipped and fell and our private parts collided with such great force that it resulted in fertilization. So here we are. Due in March…

On finding out we were having our third boy…

“Are you upset that it’s not a girl?”

Great question! Thanks for asking! I’m effing pissed. I have contacted the customer service department about this and complained that this is just NOT what I ordered. I have heard that the return policy on these things are a real bitch to deal with. I guess I’ll have to suck it up and feed the little critter once he’s born. I’ll just leave a crappy review online about my dissatisfaction.

When making the decision to be a stay-at-home mother…

So, you are going to stay at home? You mean you’re not gonna work?

Actually, I just bought a sleep number bed. It’s fantastic! So once the little sucker is born, I’m going to make sure everyday that my bed is properly adjusted and I’ll just enjoy the peace and tranquility of a quiet and dark room. I will make sure to have my husband come in and move my ass around every now and then when he gets home from “work” to prevent bed sores. But no. I’m not gonna work. Life will be a breeze and aww shit…I just upgraded my cable too…so I’ll even get the porn sites! Can I get a hells yeah?!

When someone asked me about my birth plan…

Aren’t you scared to have a big baby come out of your vagina? I mean…won’t it hurt?

Aww hell…are you effing kidding me? I’m not scared. The thought of my lil’ lady-hole dividing like the Grand Canyon while waving my legs in the air like I just don’t care and having to push a human out of there with my own insides? Well that sounds about as laid back as a Sunday brunch. Besides…if it gets rough, I’ll have them bring in the jaws of life and they can simply pry ‘er open for me and take him out manually. Scared??? Bahahahaha!!! Michael Myers makes me scared. Fucking clowns with knives make me scared. Childbirth?!? Get outta here with that shit….

*they all ended in C-sections anyways…

When my friends asked me to go out for girls’ night.

How ’bout you come out with us Friday night? Oh…and since you can’t drink, would you please be our driver?

First off…how thoughtful of you! I can only imagine that in planning this event you were thinking of me and about how much you want to hang out with me. You know…when you mentioned it was dollar-draws and $2 wells night at that really fun bar downtown, I just knew this would be right up my alley! Of course I’ll drive you bitches, but keep in mind, I’m pregnant as fuck. So if this “girls’ night” lasts past midnight, I’ll pitch in for you to get a cab home. K?

When I gained 65 pounds with my pregnancy (not kidding).

Are you sure you’re not having twins?

Nope. I’m not. There could be 18,000 babies in here at this very moment, but I wouldn’t know because I just realized yesterday that I was getting a bit bigger. In fact…I haven’t yet, at 38 weeks taken an actual pregnancy test or had a sonogram to even verify a pregnancy. I simply assumed I was preggo and due at any given moment just from the kicks and lack of a menstrual cycle for 8 months, but I also like fries and peanut butter cups, so there’s that. So no way sugar tits…I’m not sure that it’s not twins…or quadruplets, or some Guinness Book of World Records shit. Now hug me and take me to a buffet.

***Oh yes. You will encounter many-a-question during your 9 months of incubating that expensive little night owl that’s inside of you.

BUT…try not to waste your time getting offended. Take it all with the grain of salt that you are currently craving and laugh a little.