What Should Go Here?

I finally invested in a felt letter board! Now I’m like all the other cool moms, except for I’m not cool.

Too bad I couldn’t think of anything clever to say! What would you write on this board? Seriously, let’s have fun…if you come up with something, comment and include your Instagram handle and I’ll tag you when I post it.

Also, that muffin is for me. Baby Girl asked who it was for, and I told her it was mine. She said she wanted it, and then Little Man overheard talk about a muffin and said he wanted one. Baby Girl informed him that the muffin was really for her, not him, which caused a spat. Excuse me while I update the Parenting Drinking Game to include taking a shot when your kids fight over doodled food.

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I Put My Boobs On The Internet…Again

Want to know a good way to appall your 1o-year-old? Besides calling Minecraft “that freaking block game,” that is? Put your boobs on the Internet. A few months ago, I published a post called What Your Bra Really Says About You on this blog, and while Little Man generally thinks everything I write is hilarious, he wasn’t very enthusiastic about me putting my boobs online, even if they were a) doodled and b) technically covered up.

Unfortunately for Little Man, those doodled, censored boobs are posted on another website. Sammiches and Psych Meds featured the What Your Bra Really Says About You today. If you didn’t read it when I originally posted it back in October, then head over to Sammiches and Psych Meds and check it out. Heck, even if you did read it when I originally posted it, head over there and check it out anyway, because it’s been seven months now, and I know your memory isn’t so great that you remember all the details of my censored breasts.

5 Times My Kids Make Me Want To Drink

You’ve seen the game; now check out the stories behind the game! 

If any of their grandparents are reading this, I know what they’re thinking right now — “Those sweet, innocent little angels would never do anything to make someone want to drink, you terrible asshole.” Okay, maybe they wouldn’t add “terrible asshole,” but they would definitely be adamant that my children are perfect little babies. That’s one of the perks of being a grandparent — you can know full well that your grandkids are mini terrorists at times, but you think they’re perfect anyway.

I adore my kiddos, of course. They’re sweet, kind, funny, clever, and a hundred other good things. But, despite all of their positive traits, they also have the tendency to occasionally make their parents consider taking up day drinking. Maybe even morning drinking. Here are a few reasons why:

1. Tattling

I’ve mentioned before that I thought the nearly 6.5 year gap between Little Man and Baby Girl would guarantee certain things — like no fighting. I also thought that tattling would be something that wouldn’t be a big deal, or one-sided, if anything.

No.

My kids tattle on each other constantly. Little Man tattled on Baby Girl before she could even walk. Baby Girl tattled on Little Man before she could even talk.

I hate the tattling with the burning passion of a thousand fiery suns. I also feel bad for the parents of both of my blended families (four kids in the first and five in the second), because I’m sure whatever tattling annoyances I’m experiencing was far worse.

They tattle over dirty looks. They tattle over someone touching a toy or book that they were not using and hadn’t used in forever. They tattle over name calling. Even when one kid calls names first and the other retorts with the same, the kid that lobbed the first insult will tattle. Baby Girl is probably the pettiest of tattlers, because she will tattle over Little Man for looking at the TV while she’s watching it.

Want a drink yet?

2. Interrupting My Bath

For the record, a full post on this reason to drink is forthcoming. It happens that often.

There’s nothing I enjoy more than getting in an almost scalding hot tub with a good book and having a nice soak. These enjoyable soaks are few and far between now, though, thanks to the kids. The little one sobs wanting to join me. The older one comes in demanding help with homework or wanting to pick my brain about something that happened at school. The really old one (I’m looking at you, hubby) comes in to tell me the kids aren’t listening.

Interruptions. Interruptions, galore! And forget locking the door — if Little Man doesn’t use his library card to open the lock, Baby Girl will attempt to break it down.

The most annoying of the interruptions is when the kids come in to ask me to do something that a) I can’t do BECAUSE I’M IN THE TUB and b) they could’ve either done themselves or asked their dad to help with.

3. Destroying My House

It’s a rare thing that my house is clean and organized. I try, but most days I only whittle away at fixing the disaster zone that is our home. Sometimes, though, the moon and stars align and the house is perfect — so perfect that someone could knock on my door and I’d gladly invite them in instead of making them stand on the porch. (Yes, I will absolutely do that…so call first!)

Everyone knows that it’s in a kid’s DNA to destroy things — especially clean houses. (If your kid is neat and tidy and never spills anything, then you’ve simply lucked out with a gene mutation.) So even though I know that the kids are going to mess things up, it still makes me die inside to watch it happen.

4. When They Won’t Eat My Food

I know that I sound like the biggest hypocrite in the world right now. The picky eater who drove her grandmother crazy, who has friends who will make her something special when she eats at their home, who is a self-admitted shitty cook is griping about her kids not eating her food. But this is different, I promise!

You see, I am totally sympathetic to the plight of the picky eater, so I have no problem with whipping up something extra to make sure Baby Girl has something she likes. While I do try to get her to vary her food options, I’m also not gonna complain about being a short order cook. This isn’t what makes me want to drink.

This is:

It’s. Exactly. What. You. Asked. For. EAT. IT.

5. When They Watch Crappy TV Shows

The experts all caution against letting your kids have too much screen time because it will melt their brains or something. They neglect to mention that screen time can be dangerous for parents, too, as certain programs will make the parents want to give themselves a lobotomy. Sure, it’s nice to turn on the the TV and let them watch a show while we do dishes, fold clothes, or cry in the closet, but some of those shows are rough.

I used to be super picky about what Little Man watched on TV. “Nothing but PBS cartoons for my son!” since I hated Spongebob just as much as I hate tattling. When he got a little older, he got more free reign with age appropriate shows, and that’s when I discovered just how awful children’s programming can be. I’ve had to sit through Pokemon, Slugterra, and Lab Rats. With Baby Girl, I’ve caught parts of Peppa Pig and Mother Goose Club. (Pretty much everything on PBS kids is still amazing, outside of Caillou, though.) We have a fairly small house and they watch their shows in the living room, so it’s hard to escape.

But, yeah, that stuff totally makes me want to drink. And seeing Peppa and her family collapse in the floor every other episode makes me want a double.

Since many of you guys have already mentioned things your kids do that make you want to drink on the game post, what would your drink of choice be if you did play the game?

Let’s connect on social media! You can find me on FacebookTwitter,  Instagram, and Bloglovin.

Parenting Drinking Game

So, I was working on a post about things my kids do that make me want to drink when I got the idea to create a Parenting Drinking Game. Like the drinking game memes that go around during presidential speeches where you take a shot when the president uses a made up word or something, this is a game where you take a drink when your kids do something at least somewhat annoying or infuriating. I should probably release this after the other post, but here’s something a little fun to cheer up your Monday. (And if your Monday is perfect and doesn’t need cheering up, don’t tell the rest of us.)

(Click the image to view a much larger version!)

What would you add to this list?

If you’re one of the special few who might feel inclined to blast me for promoting getting blasted around your kids, let me stop you right there — this post is meant to be humorous and such comments will be deleted. That’s all. 

Let’s connect on social media! You can find me on FacebookTwitter,  Instagram, and Bloglovin.

If Toddlers Had Facebook

Isn’t Facebook great? You can go online and share everything about your life with your family, friends, acquaintances (aka people you met once), and stalkers. Whether it’s picture after picture chronicling your kids’ childhoods, because the whole world really needs to know about your 10-year-old’s haircut  (guilty as charged) or vague status updates about that someone in your life who needs to butt out and piss off, you can share it all on Facebook.

Some people hated it when “old people” (our parents and grandparents) got on Facebook. “It’s gonna be ruined!” they complained. And by “ruined” they meant, “I can’t post pictures of my half naked ass puking in the bushes or status updates about all the wild sex I’m having.” Aside from the often jumbled status updates about “COUSIN LENNY XLKSKD FIRE” and the 3,249 requests to play Farmville, it wasn’t that bad, though.

“Old people” definitely did not ruin Facebook. Sure, there might be an accidental — and highly inappropriate — gif or laughing reaction on a post about someone being on their deathbed, but that’s always good for a chuckle since it slightly lightens the situation. Even more so when they apologetically post about how they didn’t mean to put that or that Zuckerburg must have hacked their profiles. (Because deleting the offensive post is clearly not an option.)

(By the way, I’m putting quotation marks around “old people” because the people that we considered old a decade ago aren’t much that much older than we are now…)

Since we know what “old people” on Facebook looks like, let’s imagine for a moment that our toddlers got accounts and were given free reign. Their pictures would probably be just as bad as an older newcomer to Facebook. Where you might see an old person post three different profile pictures in various orientations until they get one that’s upright, you’d probably see pictures like this from a toddler:

Have you ever felt especially stabby when someone posts pictures about their amazing vacation while you’re stuck in the office or at home dealing with two projectile vomiting children and Laundry Mountain?

When you take a break for a minute and mindlessly scroll through Facebook, you’re faced with a picture that is angled just right to show off an adult beverage, toes, and sand.

If a toddler had a Facebook account, this is what they’d post:

And, of course, there would be the inevitable passive-aggressive comment from a jealous toddler friend…

Oof.

Toddlers would also probably be just as self-conscious about the number of likes on their posts as the average angsty younger Millennial was.

And you know how new parents seems to be cursed with an affliction that causes them to overshare on Facebook during their child’s first year? Well, toddlers would probably be like that, too.

The best part of toddlers being on Facebook would be all of the drama, though. You know they’d have it. They go from one extreme mood to another in the snap of a finger, and just like an insecure 29-year-old who has had way too many shots of Fireball, there would be no hesitation in putting that drama all over Facebook.

Toddlers on Facebook would definitely be interesting.

Let’s connect on social media! You can find me on FacebookTwitter,  Instagram, and Bloglovin.

Happy Mother’s Day: #MyMomChallenge

First and foremost, Happy Mother’s Day to all the mamas out there! To everyone who has played that played that role in a child’s life and to all the moms-in-waiting, I hope your day is great. And a special Happy Mother’s Day to my grandmother in heaven — I may not have been her biological daughter, but she sure treated me like one during our time together.

I’ll save any further sappiness (as well as a doodle of the most interesting trophy ever that I was gifted) for another post. In honor of Mother’s Day, I’m introducing a challenge of sorts that will give you the chance to grill your kids and see what sort of funny stuff they can come up with.

The #MyMomChallenge

1. My mom is _____ years old and weighs _____ pounds.
2. My mom is good at cooking _____ and is not so good at cooking _____.
3. If my mom were a superhero, her name would be ______ and her superpower would be _____.
4. And if my mom were a villain, her name would be ______ and she would use her evil powers to _____.
5. I love it when my mom ______.
6. When my mom is driving, she _________.
7. I like it when my mom _______ and I don’t like it when my mom _________.
8. My mom does not like to _______.
9. My mom does ________ the best and _________ the worst.
10. I’m thankful for my mom because ___________.

Rules:

Get your kid/kids (regardless of age) to fill in the blanks and create a new post with their answers. Link back to this post so that your post shows up as a pingback in the comments. Nominate three other bloggers to participate.


Little Man (age 10):

1. My mom is 34 years old and weighs 104 pounds.
2. My mom is good at cooking everything and is not so good at cooking doughnuts.

3. If my mom were a superhero, her name would be Captain Obvious and her superpower would be mind control.
4. And if my mom were a villain, her name would be Professor Bossypants and she would use her evil powers to make other people go my way.

5. I love it when my mom is around.
6. When my mom is driving, she always needs a GPS.
7. I like it when my mom cuddles with me and I don’t like it when my mom fusses at me.
8. My mom does not like to drive in tight spaces.
9. My mom does making cookies the best and navigates the worst.

10. I’m thankful for my mom because she made me alive.

Baby Girl (age 3):

1. My mom is ten years old and weighs 24 pounds.

2. My mom is good at cooking spaghetti and is not so good at cooking yucky crumbs.
3. If my mom were a superhero, her name would be Captain Mommy and her superpower would be throwing ninja stars.

4. And if my mom were a villain, her name would be Bad Mommy and she would use her evil powers to throw plastic cups.
5. I love it when my mom hugs me.
6. When my mom is driving, she holds on to the steering wheel.
7. I like it when my mom plays with me and I don’t like it when my mom says “It’s not your birthday anymore.”
8. My mom does not like to eat yucky things.

9. My mom does cuddling the best and splashes bubbles on me the worst.
10. I’m thankful for my mom because you’re my best mommy.

I love everything about these answers. And I officially want to change the name of this blog to Professor Bossypants, but I probably won’t.

For the record, I’d like to see any mom who reads this blog participate in this challenge, but here are three in particular who definitely should:

Honest K
Baby Costs Money
The Lupie Momma

And dad bloggers — feel free to join in and change the wording up a bit!

Let’s connect on social media! You can find me on FacebookTwitter,  Instagram, and Bloglovin.

I’m Not Doc Ock

Knowing that your kid thinks you can move mountains is a good feeling, right? They believe in us more than we believe in ourselves, even after six shots of Fireball, and that’s saying something. No matter what problem comes up, they think we can fix it, whether it’s making their ouchies better with the healing powers in our kisses or ridding their room of monsters with magic swords.

There are times, though, when they overestimate our abilities and times when we really wish that they weren’t so confident in us. Like when Baby Girl lets her popsicle melt into a sticky mess and asks me to fix it — I can’t do that. When God was handing out parenting superpowers, he totally skipped giving me the ability to instantly revert a liquid into a solid. No sorcerer powers here. I can’t snap my fingers and make the sun stop shining too brightly, either. I do have Spidey like reflexes when it comes to catching a kid’s vomit before it goes all over the couch, though, which is severely underappreciated.

One time the kids really tend to overestimate just how much I’m capable of is when we’re in the car. They expect me to be Doc Ock while I’m driving, and since I prefer us all arriving wherever we’re going in one piece, I often disappoint them. (Not that this disappointment stops them from believing in me, though.) Here are some of the things they’ve requested over the past few months:

This from the child who once told me that I wasn’t any good at doing Transformers? I wouldn’t even if I could.

This one was tempting, just because he bragged about being better at Mario than me. The ability to gloat was just slightly edged out by not wanting to put my car in a ditch.

That’s a cheesy roll-up from Taco Bell, in case you’re wondering — something she has no trouble managing in the car. She was watching me doodle and requested that I show her eating that, so there ya go. More recently she’s requested that I feed her ice cream. She insisted on a cup of ice cream, even though I told her she couldn’t eat it in the car and that she’d have to wait until we got home, but she thought I could work my parenting mojo anyway. Nope.

At least she didn’t ask me to rub her back this time, I guess?

Baby Girl also frequently asks me to pick up things she’s dropped. Now, if she dropped things like a normal person, I could reach behind and grab whatever it is at a stop light or stop sign since her car seat is behind me. However, she typically drops things as far away from my reach as possible. So, not only am I not Doc Ock, I’m not Elastigirl, either, even if my crappy doodles do make my arms look ridiculously long sometimes.

So, dear kiddos of mine, I greatly appreciate your confidence in my abilities, but let’s cool it on the requests while I’m driving a one-and-a-half ton car down the road at 55 mph (that’s my story and I’m sticking to it), okay?


Following the WordPress Discover post, there are a lot of new followers on this blog — welcome aboard! I’m having trouble pulling up a full list of followers to visit, so drop a link to one of your best posts in the comments so I can be sure to stop by your blog. Don’t forget to connect with me on social media, too. You can find me on FacebookTwitter,  Instagram, and Bloglovin.

#AtoZChallenge: ‘Y’ is for “You’ve Got Mail”

This is the last repeat post for the A to Z Challenge, which is good since we only have one day left.  This post was originally posted in October of last year.

For our date night a while back, my husband and I ordered take-out and watched You’ve Got Mail. This was no Netflix and chill, though. Instead, we kicked it old school and watched the DVD I’ve had since I was in high school.

My grandmother was a fan of romantic comedies, so I watched a lot of those since I lived with her. She was a Meg Ryan super fan (until The Affair with Russell Crowe, sigh), and I became one too after watching You’ve Got Mail. As a teen who had recently gotten an Internet connection, I thought it was the most romantic thing ever. A smart guy! Who enjoys books! And can write! Such a guy didn’t exist in my class of 70-odd students (that I was aware of), so that movie gave my love life a little hope.

You know how couples have a song? It might be the first song they ever danced to together or the one they danced to at their wedding. This movie is our equivalent of that. (Well, technically we have a Song, too, and it’s not a Hanson song since my husband put his foot down.)

We went the same route as the characters, meeting online, taking forever to meet, and when we did it was amazeballs (well, it was amazeballs a couple months after we met, when my nervousness wore off and I didn’t treat him like a brother). Our story isn’t quite as interesting, and consists only of a few missed hints and involuntarily dodged kisses — no business war and all that — but otherwise IT’S EXACTLY THE SAME.

We were getting sappy and stuff while watching the movie, reciting lines here and there, like it was of Star Wars or Shakespeare importance, when it dawned on me that there was something about me that my husband didn’t know about me. Once you’ve been married to someone for 10 years, finding something new to share from one’s past is pretty major. It’s almost on the level of giving diamonds. Almost.

“Oh my god, that haircut!” I commented. “I loved that haircut when I was in high school. I had it for the better part of two years. But it never worked out for me.”

This is it, in case you haven’t watched You’ve Got Mail or just don’t remember:

Alternatively, you can look at the haircut here, if the doodle isn’t doing it for you.

Between my lack of being able to blow my wavy (but not curly, dammit) hair straight, it not being the right haircut for my face, and the crappy stylist whose cuts rarely resembled the picture given, the haircut didn’t work for me. It didn’t work the first time I was a sophomore in high school, or the second time adding blonde highlights, or even the 89th time, when I was a senior in high school, and I’d highlighted my hair so much that it was nearly straight up blonde. (This is when I realized I should just let it grow out and go back to my natural color.)

The idea of having Meg Ryan’s haircut was amusing to my husband.

“She wasn’t in her 40s at the time,” I said, defending my style choice for god knows what reason. “Probably like her 30s. Or mid-30s.”

“That’s really not better. You were 15!” he exclaimed.

“Almost 16, though. And it was a cute haircut! Just not on me. Which may be why I didn’t date more in high school.”

“Aw, I’m sure it wasn’t that bad,” he said. “Just pretty bad.”

(And if you think admitting you wanted the haircut of an older woman was bad, try admitting that you had a crush on Tom Hanks when you were 15…or 33, for that matter. Sigh.)

I didn’t show him my picture in the yearbook from that haircut — the one where I was wearing a plain white t-shirt for, again, god knows what reason. Add in being sweaty as hell because it was early September in SC, plus that haircut, and you’ve got loads of awfulness.

See? All the awfulness.

My sharing the haircut story pretty much ruined You’ve Got Mail from a romantic standpoint. The idea of wanting to look like a middle age woman in my teens kind of overshadows the whole “how we met” thing. That opens the door for making a Hanson song Our Song, though, so there’s that.

Have you ever aspired to look much older than you actually were, or otherwise have any interesting Bad Haircut stories to share?

Thanks for joining me for the April A to Z Challenge! If you’re participating, please leave a link in the comments section so I can check out your post.

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#AtoZChallenge: ‘X’ is for X (10)

Today’s post for the A to Z Challenge comes from my Facebook timeline. Coming up with a post for “X” can always be a bit of a challenge, so I’m cheating a little bit by going with “X” stands for the Roman numeral X, or 10. You get 10 mildly amusing status updates pulled from my Facebook page.

From last year, when Baby Girl commented on her growth…

Looking for freelance jobs can be equally frustrating and entertaining…

When the kiddo started getting slightly modest a few years ago…

Little Man is starting to get a little shy…when I walked in the bathroom where he was getting ready for his bath, he decided to cover up his privates. He’s stark naked and what does he cover? His chest. He is too funny!

That time I decided to be a zombie for Halloween and modeled my zombie walk for my husband…

During the height of the 50 Shades of Grey popularity…

The boy’s hatred for Clemson used to be something else…

“How’d Clemson get that ball? They probably snatched it.”

“I’m not pulling for Clemson, I’m pulling for who plays Clemson.”

“I don’t like cheaters, so I’m not pulling for Clemson. They probably do that.”

“I liked orange until I learned about Clemson. Now I don’t like it.”

When the kiddo caught me off guard with his take on The Giving Tree…

“That book is hilarious!”

That time Little Man messed up the title of a Nintendo game…

When Baby Girl was 2.5, she had some issues with our dog’s name…

When McDonald’s got kinda confused on what caffeine is…

Thanks for joining me for the April A to Z Challenge! If you’re participating, please leave a link in the comments section so I can check out your post.

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#AtoZChallenge: ‘V’ is for Valentine’s Day

Yes, we’re more than two months past Valentine’s Day, but I’m going to go with ‘V’ is for Valentine’s Day anyway.

Today’s doodle comes from my and my husband’s (well, then boyfriend’s) first Valentine’s Day together. We’d been together for close to a year at the time. I wasn’t really sure what to expect, since we had both talked about our dislike for commercialized holidays, but let’s just say that what happened wasn’t something that crossed my mind.

On Valentine’s Day, I came home from school (I was a junior in college at the time) and went to my room after chatting briefly with my grandmother. I stood next to my computer desk to lean over and turn the tower on, and when I stood up, I noticed someone coming out of my closet out the corner of my eye. I’ve had terrible anxiety for a long time, and someone breaking in and killing me was always something I worried over. It was happening.

Anxiety is a bitch, but my, what it does for one’s imagination.

I let out a blood curdling scream worthy of a second-rate horror movie.

So long Frankenstein face, hello terrified face.

And then my brain registered that it wasn’t a murderous criminal hiding out in my closet — it was my better half.

“That wasn’t the reaction I was hoping for he said,” he told me, handing me the flowers. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

I felt rather embarrassed over this, but then again, who wouldn’t be freaked out when she notices a man coming out of her closet?

My grandmother popped in about that time, laughing. “I knew that’s what was going to happen when you said you wanted to hide in her closet and surprise her!” she said.

“Well, why didn’t you say that?” he asked.

“Because I thought it would be funny,” she replied.

Gee, thanks. Give me a heart attack all for the sake of your own amusement. I guess she was getting a little payback for all those years of me being a dumb kid and doing the same.

Do you have any stories of where your partner had nothing but the best intentions, but things went wrong in a hurry?

Thanks for joining me for the April A to Z Challenge! If you’re participating, please leave a link in the comments section so I can check out your post.

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