Waiting for the Fog to Clear

Waiting for the Fog to Clear. -OneFunnyMotha

I almost cried in the food store yesterday. I don’t know why. It happened while I was pushing my cart down the canned vegetable aisle. One minute I was scanning the shelves for black beans and the next I was squeezing my eyelids shut, willing the tears back into their ducts. I didn’t want to be seen crying in the middle of the food store like some kind of lunatic.

Nothing was wrong. Nothing really. And, I like food shopping. Actually, I look forward to food shopping. It’s the one job I can do and be free of all my other obligations. At the food store I have one task to focus on. That’s it. I don’t have to worry about the million and one other things. Just follow the list, and find the stuff on it. Simple.

It happened again in Starbucks. I was looking up at the board trying to decide between a latte and a frapuccino when the tears came. Again, I blinked them back, afraid the barista might see. I turned and left without a drink.

Sometimes I have so many thoughts swimming in my head, I can’t make sense of them all. I can’t think. It feels like a fog has settled in my brain. I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. Everything seems like bullshit. I don’t know what’s genuine or fake – from the world or myself. I don’t even know what I want to say. So I say nothing. I become paralyzed.

I stare at the computer screen for hours waiting for something to come. Nothing does. Or I write a whole bunch of garbage and delete it all. The stuff I want to write isn’t sellable. The stuff that’s sellable, I don’t want to write. I’m lost.

I waste so much time, so much time, because I don’t know what to do. It makes me more anxious.

I had 8 hours. I got nothing done. How could I not have gotten anything done in EIGHT hours? Oh my God, I’ll never catch up. I’m gonna have to work double-time tomorrow, and I still won’t be able to get everything done. I just wasted two more hours on Facebook. I’m failing.

I try to remain upbeat and positive. I know I have no right to complain so I joke around, but half the time I’m fighting depression. I don’t like to write about depression. It’s depressing.

Last week was the week of doctors. My appointments, my kids’ appointments, every appointment under the God damn sun. I never cancel because then I’ll just have to reschedule for another time that will be equally inconvenient.

Everything’s fine. Just the annual well-care visits. They used to be called check-ups. You’re supposed to schedule them each year around your kids’ birthdays. My kids’ birthdays were over the winter.

I took one kid one day and the other the next because they see different doctors in the same practice and apparently you can’t get both of them on the same day. Which was fine because instead of spending five hours in the waiting room in one day, I spread it out over two back-to-back days. I think it turned out to be quicker that way.

They screen for all sorts of stuff these days – sports and activities, grades, screen time, depression. They gave my daughter a short questionnaire, but it was worded strangely, and they had to ask her to clarify.

“Here you circled you ‘take little interest in things,’ and I just want to make sure you understood the question because it’s a little confusing. Does that mean everything? Even things you like?”

“Oh, no, I like some things,” my daughter answered. “I just meant I take no interesting in the things I don’t like. Not everything.”

Like me, I thought, sitting silently in the chair next to her. Nobody asked me those questions.

I smiled at my daughter and the doctor and the staff and everyone in the world and drove home.

Where I’m still waiting for the fog to clear.

On Having a Pleasant Dinning Experience With Children

This is a LIE.

This is a LIE, people.

It can be done. And I’ll tell you how over on Nurse Mommy Laughs. I’m hanging out there today dispensing more of my pearls of wisdom gleaned through many hard years at this racket. I know of what I speak, people. The thing is I started out like all y’all trying to be good and trying to parent my children right. Then I just wanted to survive, and now my motto is “whatever works.” It’s a gradual process in which your kids slowly beat the will to survive out of you. Happens to everyone. So if you want to cut to the quick and save yourself some trouble, head on over. Because if you ever actually want to taste your food, this is the only answer.


Photo Credit

My Advice to the Dad Not Seated with Daughter on an Airline Flight

And to all parents faced this problem when booking a flight and can’t get seats together.

Don’t sit with your kid.

Good luck passenger on the plane seated next to my kid. - OneFunnyMotha.com

Good luck passenger on the plane seated next to my kid. – OneFunnyMotha.com

Are you kidding me? That’s my dream. Do you know how much I would enjoy my flight if I could sit quietly by myself without constant interruption? Bring on the bar cart. Let my kids be someone else’s problem for once. See how they like it. I bet they’ll give up their seat real quick.

You may be familiar with this story that’s been floating around the interwebs the past few days. A dad booked a flight for himself and his daughter online but couldn’t get two seats together. Eleven rows separated him from his his four-year-old child. The dad, Frank Strong, was told he could pay an extra $88 to ensure he’d get a spot next to his daughter or he could wait until he boarded the flight and have the attendant remedy the situation. Understandably, he didn’t want to take the chance and paid the $88.

I recently encountered this “problem” when I took a trip with my family over spring break. We booked four tickets, but only two of them were together. I considered it a blessing. I suggested my husband and I sit together, and let the kids fend for themselves. My husband thought it was a better idea to pair up one parent with one kid. Guess who got that job?

But wait, there’s more –>

Word to Your Mother’s Day


Mother's Day by OneFunnyMotha


Today I wanted to do a very special Mother’s Day post to go along with my Mother’s Day Week, which is kind of like Shark Week only without the sharks. I think moms deserve a week-long tribute for all we do. Or at least a week free of being hassled in addition to all we do. So I called it.

“This is my week,” I said, “and you people (and by that I meant my family) will listen to me and do what I say without giving me any grief.”

Which made my kids immediately groan, but I cut them off. “FOR A WHOLE WEEK.”

“But, mom…” they protested.

“Those are the rules,” I snapped. “That’s what I want for Mother’s Day.”

I think it’s a very doable request. My kids tend to think otherwise. But, honestly, it’s fairly reasonable when you consider all that a mother is and all she does for her family. I’ve been giving that quite a lot of thought recently in light of the big day in my honor when I will mostly likely cook and clean and look after the kids. So no different than any other day. For about five minutes I thought long and hard about the meaning of the word “mother.” What singular word best describes a mom? What word encompasses the enormity of the job?

Then I turned to the dictionary. I couldn’t come up with anything on my own. My brain is shot people. I have kids. Starting with “f” words (since I’ve noticed the people seem to love “f” words), I perused the fine print. Sadly, there were no adequate “f” words in this instance. So I said to myself, “Self, when you think of mother what word pops into your head?” Instantly I had it. Hard working. But I wanted one word that said it all not two so I turned to my thesaurus, who is always there for me in my time of need (of words that are synonyms for other words), and found the perfect word. Sedulous. It was a word I’d never heard before, but one that perfectly defined a mother.

It means persistently or carefully maintained. What better word could there be? If children aren’t persistently and carefully maintained by their mothers, I don’t know what is.

So I had my word. Unfortunately, I did not have my wish. Throughout the week my kids continued to bicker and complain and neglect their chores and tell me they brushed their teeth when they, in fact, never had any intentions of ever brushing their teeth and stomped their feet when I forced them to go brush their teeth for real. Perhaps that means I’ll be getting the other gift on my wish list. A flask. It’s the gift every mother longs for because if kids are going to continue to moan and groan and be general pains in our arses at least we’ll have liquor cancel out the effects.

Happy Mother’s Day all! May you get exactly what you wish for.

Like this? Find even funnier stuff in I STILL JUST WANT TO PEE ALONE, the third installment in The New York Times best-selling series from some of the funniest women on the web. What I’m trying to say is, I’m in this book. Buy it, ok? Get it on AmazonKindleiTunes and Barnes and Noble & I will love you forever. 
Photo credit


My Kid Has a Potty Mouth

And he got it from me.

My Kid Has a Potty Mouth

I would apologize for this, but I’m not all that sorry. It’s something that simply can’t be helped. Cursing to me is like breathing air. It has to be done. It’s for my survival. Believe me, I held off for a very long time – years and years – while my kids were young, but all those pent up profanities, I think, were giving me an ulcer. I needed to let it out. And, today I have on Scary Mommy.

It’s not like I curse at my kids. Ok, fine, sometimes I do. But they deserve it. And, it’s not like I’m saying it’s the right thing to do. It’s just the right thing for me to do. My point being, we’re only human, and sometimes that humaness shows through. In this whole parenting business, I get a lot right. This is just one area I get wrong. So go check it out over on Scary Mommy, and let me know what you think.

Like this? Find even funnier stuff in I STILL JUST WANT TO PEE ALONE, the third installment in The New York Times best-selling series from some of the funniest women on the web. What I’m trying to say is, I’m in this book. Buy it, ok? Get it on AmazonKindleiTunes and Barnes and Noble & I will love you forever. 

Tweetpeat Tuesday: Funny Tweets on Kids #578

Funny Parenting Tweets

Yes, kids are easy targets, but that’s what makes it so much fun. So let’s get to it shall we?


She gave birth, didn’t she?

Ah, the joys of parenting.

Oh, hells yeah.  

Which is why…

I mean isn’t that why we send them to school? Learning’s nice and all, but don’t we parents deserve a break? Especially when this happens: But wait, there’s more –>

Tweetpeat Tuesday: Men Vs. Women

I will get you

Twitter really breaks things down to the essential truths. Which is why I like it. There’s just so much you can learn from Twitter.

Here I present you with the essential guide to men and women expressed in 140 character truths. I think this should be required reading for couples getting married like this post should be handed out at Pre-Cana or something.

For instance engaged couples should know…

Oh, I know exactly what you did on the third Tuesday of November 2003. Don’t think I don’t. And I’m still not over it. I may never be. Which may be why… 

But it’s not like women are the only ones at fault. I mean listen to this.

But wait, there’s more –>

Tweetpeat Tuesday: Best Parenting Tweets of the Week

The Only thing

You think it’s so easy coming up with funny tweets. Well, it’s not. I do a lot of research, people. This morning alone I just read over 200,000 tweets to come up with this. You have no idea how exhausting and frustrating it is to scroll through that many unfunny tweets. But do you care? Do you? Oh, you don’t want to hear me, you just wanna tweet.

I know, right? I don’t know what the hell people are complaining about.

I loved The Devil Wears Prada, but I bet this one will be more accurate.

I believe that’s every child’s mission in life. And, also to to destroy your home.

That’s a genius idea. That has money-maker written all over it.

But wait, there’s more –>

We Have a Winner!

This morning I got up and as usual immediately logged onto Facebook. And what was the first thing I saw? A post from Julie Bel Conner. She’s the Life Coach whose giveaway I ran last week, which I was suppose to announce the winner of today and had completely forgotten. But that’s not really the reason I’m mentioning this. I’m telling you this because this is what I saw.

Julie Bel Conner


And it reminded me why I paired up with Julie. I could have so used those inspiring words when my daughter was little. I felt like every day was an uphill battle and it never seemed to get any easier. You have the whole world out there telling you to be one way, to enjoy every minute, that you are supposed to love motherhood, that you should live, sleep and breath for your kids, that if you don’t delight in wiping someone’s ass there is something wrong with you. And I thought, isn’t motherhood hard enough? Do we really need these messages coming at us like we’re inadequate or there’s something wrong with us if we are not in a state of bliss?

Well, I was not in a state of bliss. In fact, I was the opposite. I was in a state of depression, and it was hard enough to make it through the day. I really didn’t need anyone’s false messaging. I’m stronger now, but I know there are plenty of other women going through that and I just fell in love with Julie’s idea of creating a service specifically focused on moms and caregivers and the tremendous stress they are under because I really don’t think our society takes that seriously.

With that I’m please to announce the winner of the 50-minute Life Coach session with Julie. And that is, Nicole! I’ve emailed you, and you can expect to hear from Julie soon. For anyone interested in working with Julie to find a better way to manage stress, handle the overwhelming demands of childcare and find yourself again, you can sign up for her 4-week Happy Mommy digital course. Learn more on her site.

Don’t forget to get your copy of I STILL JUST WANT TO PEE ALONE, the third installment in The New York Times best-selling series from some of the funniest women on the web. This book is another way to find true happiness. Available on AmazonKindleiTunes and Barnes and Noble.

On Being Smart and Not Murdering Your Kids


Brain Child 2

I’m super excited to say I’m up on Brain, Child today. But not only that. It turns out, I’m kicking off their parenting humor blog series with my essay, On Suitable Punishments for Your Child Other Than Murder. It’s a good one.

If you’ve found yourself in a similar position after Spring Break where in your child has sworn all week long he didn’t have any homework and on the very first day back to class you receive an email from the teacher informing you he failed to hand in his homework, you’ll really relate to this piece. You’ll also be glad to see murder is not the only option. It may be the best option but it is not the only option. So my kid get to live for now. I can’t make any promises about the future, though.

In the piece I talk about my desperation to find a fitting punishment, eventually turning to the people I always turn to in times of need, the internet. And, let me tell you, the good peoples of Facebook did not let me down. They came through with some excellent advice, ultimately, sparing my child’s life. The internet really is capable of wondrous things. Who knows what would’ve happened if not for Facebook. So if you’ve found yourself in a similar predicament, and, really, who hasn’t, go on over to see what your options are. And, remember like the People’s Court always said, “Don’t take the law into your own hands.” Violence is never the answer.

As a P.S. I really love the illustration they put with my piece. Illustrator, Christine Juneau, really gets me. The illustration looks EXACTLY like my life.

And don’t forget to get your copy of I STILL JUST WANT TO PEE ALONE, the third installment in The New York Times best-selling series from some of the funniest women on the web (like me). At $9.47 on Amazon it’s cheeper than a couple of lattes at Starbucks (and lasts longer). It’s value added! You can also get it on KindleiTunes and Barnes and Noble, and I will love you forever.