Confess the Mess
Let's get real! No mom is perfect. Some of us just have the guts to admit it. #confessthemess
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This Is Why Little Girls Never Get Tired Of Talking
They never get tired because, as a little girl, I never got tired. I drove my mother nuts, so it only stands to reason that they won’t shut up until they drive me off the edge. Their daughters will extend the same verbal generosity, I’m sure. The cycle is genius. Well played karma, well played! Call it Wishful thinking, but I still believe peace and quiet are possible. I’m pretty sure the way I imagine my quiet time, though, is a little inappropriate. While some people dream in black and white, and some in color, I dream, day dream that is, in “Shut-Ups!” I don’t remember fantasizing quite as much…
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7 Things Mamas Are Afraid To Admit
Tonight I went to yet another open house. Yay me. I love seeing my child’s progress, and the way they light up with pride as they show me around is really the only reason I go, but isn’t that what book bags are for? Send all that ish home. They can tell me all about it and then I can go ninja, and discard it while they sleep. Yes, I recycle about 90% of what my kids bring home, yes I do. I get that we are a social species. I guess I should enjoy the comradery, and the ice cream, and the beauty of a hundred people navigating narrow hallways, talking…
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Depression: The Life of the PTA Kind
This is the face of Depression. No, it doesn’t look like the Eor, moppy face sad sack from the Zoloft commercial. Bouncing along, leading you to believe the blues are Readily recognizable on everyone shopping in their bed slippers and bathrobe. It might look like that, but more often than not it looks a lot like the Life of the party. The charismatic PTA mama (that is most definitely not me) who’s always the Center of attention. The one who spends so much energy entertaining everyone that she Crashes after each gathering. “I tried calling Nikki to see if she wanted to do lunch, but she hasn’t returned…
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#notaholidaymom
I’m #notaholidaymom, and that’s okay. For all my mamas who can’t get enough, don’t worry I’m not here to feud. If you have huge Tupperware bins filled with inflatables and reindeer, and you start counting down the Fridays til’ in August, We can still be cool. We don’t need to step into the gauntlet and throw down, it’s not that serious. I’m simply here to let the less than crafty mamas, who prefer to use the shits they give on things like chocolate and coffee, know that it’s okay. You do not have to pretend to like the holidays anymore. I’m here for you. I don’t like carving pumpkins! There, I…
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5 Times Your Kids Will Do Exactly As You Say
I’d like to boast that my kids always do as I say, the first time, Without protest or complaint, but I’d be lying. I have to repeat myself more than I’d like to admit. I’m sure we all have that one Signature phrase we find ourselves saying multiple times a day. Once the clock strikes 7 I am just about ready to nix talking all together and take a vow of silence. There are exceptions though. There are times that they do exactly as I ask and I find myself maybe wishing that they hadn’t. Here are 5 times I wish my kids were a lot less than obedient. When I’m in the shower…
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Balloons & Bubbles
Why, oh why, do we buy all these stupid toys? All we really ever need are bubbles and balloons! #confessthemess toys are such a pet peeve of mine! They’re everywhere, all the time, and the kids don’t really care about 90% of them. I am notorious for doing a sweep and collecting the neglected, the broken, and the forgotten; Buzz Lightyear and Woody would be staging an all out coup! If the toys that I’ve gathered don’t get requested within a week or two, off to Goodwill they go. Sometimes I’m super ruthless and take them straight to the drop off ; passing go, collecting $200 on my way. I…
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The Time I Stalked That One Woman (And The 5 Things I Learned About Shopping Craigslist As A Mama)
My daughter’s birthday is rolling around, but I think this year I’m going to hit the chill button a bit. I usually go all out trying to make it special, from party details to the perfect cake, outfit and that one special gift that will set the memory of the entire day. What usually happens, though, is I spend all this time, money and energy and their favorite part of everything ends up being the $5 pack of balloons that they pop around at the end of the party. Talk about a let down; I’ve definitely learned to tone it down. My oldest daughter, though, can be a bit loftier than my…
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How I Lost My Mind Over A Bottle Of SmartWater
So, #confessthemess, I may have lost my mind kinda, sorta, just a little, lotta, bit over a bottle of SmartWater. “Who drank my water?” Blank stares, slightly aware of the severity but not yet completely afraid. “Where is my water, who drank my water? Where’s my water?! Help me understand. How many times have I told you guys to leave my water alone? Why do you continue to drink my water? There is plenty of water in the house. It’s not like it’s an irresistible bag of M&M’s. It’s not cake, or juice or a tall cold glass of fresh squeezed lemonade; it’s water, water, Room…
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“Patience Iago”
You can do it, I know. Zip your coat, buckle your seat belt, brush your teeth, wash yourself, go through every item you own twice to pick out the perfect outfit (a rainbow leotard over leopard stockings with jean shorts, a purple cardigan and polka dot rain boots), you can do it all! Mommy believes in you 🙂 But, what happens when I need it done in less than 20 minutes? What happens when your sister needs to be to gymnastics at 4 and your brother basketball practice at, well would you look at that, he needs to be there at 4 too, and I need to shop for dinner…
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“I’ve Got Glitter In My Panties” And 6 Other Phrases That Don’t Mean What You Think They Do
“I’ve got glitter in my panties!” No, there was not a party in my pants, although, that would have made for an amusing story 10 years ago. No, there was a crafting extravaganza that went south paw and once the girls were done hashing it out, over who’s pony picture had the prettier applique of sparkle, somehow I ended up wearing the aftermath in my underwear. “I slept like a baby” I slept like MY baby; who doesn’t quite sleep at all but rather, is sound for about an hour then begins to yell, not scream, not cry, yell, something like a donkey, until he grapples my breast into submission…
