I Don’t Understand

First allow me to start off by wishing you and yours a very merry holiday.

Ok, that was last month, but still. Did you guys know that “National Dance Day” was a day? I’m all for dance – in fact I love to dance – but unless we’re all gonna get a day off to go clubbing, I think it’s time we called an end to naming everything it’s own Goddamn day. Kk? Our morbidly obese nation doesn’t need a National Pancake Day or a National Potato Chip Day or a National Crown Roast of Pork Day. Seriously. That’s a day. The only problem is I wish they could have been a little more specific.

There is the more general Poultry Day, but that only makes me ask: Does anyone really need to be reminded about poultry? “Oh, yeah, chicken. I totally forgot all about chicken.” 

I also question the need, and even more so the desire, for a National Frozen Food Day. Have people ever rejoiced in a cold, hard slab of frozen grey meat? Is frozen food a cause for celebration? “Here, Honey, I got you a Hungry Man dinner for National Frozen Foods Day! I hope you like it!” 

Certainly, we don’t need National Donut Day as if the donut has fallen into disfavor.

Granted, National Dance Day is a healthy and happy holiday, but I still don’t understand why we have it or what it’s for or what it’s suppose to accomplish. In my research of all stupid, made-up holidays I also found many other interesting, non-food related holidays. There’s National Pharmacist Day. Huh? International Dog Biscuit Appreciation day. Wha? National Handwriting Day. Purpose? National If Pets Had Thumbs Day (Ok, now that one we need). And, National Squirrel Appreciation Day. ?? 

Now that's a squirrel I can appreciate.

Now that squirrel has a shot at being appreciated.

But wait, there’s more –>

Kicking My Kids to The Curb

Coming at you live from Scary Mommy (holla!) my piece on kicking my kids to the curb. Literally. Come September those rug rats are walking themselves to school.

Go on! Git!

Go on! Git! Photo credit: travit via photopin cc

If you’re a long-time reader, you know I already kick my kids to the curb years ago, and my life has been the better for it. But as with all the pieces I write, this one is a timeless classic, and it serves as a good reminder to the other parents out there that they, too, should unburden themselves of their children as early and often as possible. I want to reach out to as many parents as possible with my wisdom and knowledge. Because I’m here to help. So what are you waiting for? Go over and read it.

Don’t forget for even more fun follow me on Facebook, Pinterest and Twitter. And, never miss a thing by entering your email address right over there –> to the right because I don’t know how to enter it here (I’m a writer not a coder!).

Surviving Summer With Kids

Surviving Summer With Kids

Photo credit

Day 9: I don’t have long now. I am very weak. I fear by the time you receive this I might be goneThe outcome of summer lock-down with my kids is unclear, but I want you to know I held out for as long as I could. I waited. Every day I waited, scanning the horizon looking for re-enforcements. But they never came. I’m determined to put up a valiant fight, but in the end I may not be strong enough. 

For as long as I am able, I will continue to write, numbering the days, that way you’ll be able to piece together my final moments and what, ultimately, lead to my untimely demise – in case Jon Krakauer ever wants to write a book about my brave yet failed struggle for survival. It’ll be just like Krakauer’s account of Christopher McCandless, the young transient from a wealthy family who disappeared after college to live off the land in the Alaskan bush alone, which Krakauer chronicled in Into the Wild based on the journal he left behind.

When I started writing this piece that journal immediately sprang to mind. How similar our two stories were - except I’m not in Alaska, and I don’t have to gut a moose for survival or live in an abandoned, hollowed-out school bus without heat or water for the entire duration of the Alaskan winter. So maybe our stories aren’t exactly identical, still the fact remains. My life is in danger.

Listen to what happened.

But wait, there’s more –>

Funny Tweets on Men & Women

I was on vacation last week and off the internets for five glorious days. I gotta say it was pretty nice. The weather was perfect, the ocean crystalline, the waves phenomenal. And I’m a little sad now just thinking about it.

So I haven’t been bringing my A game to the blogosphere, but we all need a break sometime. To make up for it and to thank you for your patience and undying loyalty, I’m gonna start off with a bang.

Did you hear that? Fact. Think about it. It has to be. I know, personally, I’d never shoot my husband while he was doing the dishes.    

I will get you

Photo credit: marsmet546 via photopin cc

I’d wait till after. (Just kidding. I’d never shoot my husband.) At least, I wouldn’t shoot him and write about it on the internet. That would be dumb.     Here’s another fact for ya because I like to spread knowledge.  

My husband does that to me all the time. Then he claims he said it first. Which can lead to arguments. But, guys, I have some helpful advice for you when you’re having a disagreement with your lady.

So that’s one way.   But wait, there’s more –>

Tooth Fairy Problems

What are you sitting around for? You have work to do.

What are you sitting around for? You have work to do. Photo credit: sofi01 via photopin cc

You know how you expect the Tooth Fairy to be on her game? I mean, it’s little kids we are talking about here. We don’t want to disappoint them. Or, more importantly, have to explain why the Tooth Fairy was a no-show. Well, on more than one occasion I have found myself in the rather awkward position of having to cover for our incompetent Tooth Fairy. I really don’t know why she can’t seem to get it right. The responsibilities of the job are fairly straight forward.

Well, today my unfortunate experiences with our no-good, lazy, rotten Tooth Fairy is over on Mamalode. Go on over and check it out.

An Ode to Mom Jeans

Nobody wants to see that.

Nobody wants to see that.

I’m not talking about a return to the days when jeans extend all the way up to your neck. Or the time circa 1980 of pleated, acid washed jeans that really highlighted and enhanced your burgeoning gut. I’m talking about a good, old-fashioned, fully functional, basic, fitting garment that actually covers the body parts it’s designed to cover. I don’t think expecting your pants to come up past your ass is too much to ask. In fact, that was once a basic tenet of clothing.

I really don’t know what happened in the garment industry, but it seems it has completely dispensed with its 2,000-year history of manufacturing clothing for the purpose of clothing. Although we now have more options than ever with myriad styles, cuts and washes, sadly, none of them fit. It seems a cruel paradox.

Walk into any retailer and you’ll find a dizzying array of denim. Jeans that are skinny, super skinny, super duper skinny, slim skinny, slim shady, confining skinny and can’t-breath skinny. And that’s just the skinny category. Then there’s straight jeans, curvy jeans, straight curvy jeans, roundabout jeans, perfect boot cut jeans, sexy boot cut jeans, flare jeans and boyfriend jeans not to be confused with sexy boyfriend jeans or metro sexual boyfriend jeans. I think the metro sexual is the one I need. The metro sexual boyfriend jean: fashionable yet fitting. Where can I find those?

But wait, there’s more –>

The Day We Had to Capture Kitty

How am I supposed to do this?

Look at how cute they are. How was I supposed to capture them?

I think I’m finally ready to talk about it. The awful, tragic Day We Had to Capture Kitty. It’s not a day I like to relive. In fact, I’d like to erase it permanently from my memory. It was highly traumatizing. Especially for me.

As much I dreaded the task, it was unavoidable and finally the day had come. It came directly on the heels of the wedding. If you remember, I had a wedding to attend two days before we moved. Which I don’t ever advise. Let’s have one life event at a time, shall we? God, why do people have to be so inconsiderate? Don’t they know we’re moving? Anyway, the couple refused to change the date so we drove the two hours to the wedding (also, because my son was in the wedding), partied all night in the neon light or at least until the D.J. played “Fancy” by Iggy Azalea, which don’t get me wrong is a catchy tune but is a little traumatizing in itself when you see your teenage nieces dancing to it and you have to flee to a safer place, and then hit the after party. All of this meant we were not only hungover but tired the next day, the day before we were to move, the day of Operation Kitty Capture.

But wait, there’s more –>

The Best Summer Camp Evah

It’s time for a little summer rewind. Because I’m lazy. No, it’s because I’m tired. And, I have to pay attention to my kids some time. I guess today’s the day.

Like I always say if you haven’t read it, it’s new to you. And even if you have read it, you’ve forgotten all about it and need a refresher about my life so read it again for Pete’s sake.

This post is about the happiest days of my life, which sadly transpired over the course of three short summer months, and then were over. Suddenly. And I was left on my own. Without recourse. Oh, Camp Broaden Your Horizons, why have you forsaken me so? *Insert hysterical wailing.

Now I present you…

The Happiest Place on Earth

I know Disney World makes this claim, but I’m here to tell you, they lie. If Disney truly wanted to be the happiest place on earth they’d quit with the pipped-in, over-ecstatic, self-promotional music, the prefabricated, phony town of overpriced merchandise and the pre-paid, pre-arranged appointments to see princesses, which is the sole reason you’re in Disney in the first place.

They would also assign each child visitor with his or her own chaperone for the week so the parents would never have to step foot in any one of the resort’s theme parks and could lie by the pool sipping cocktails and actually enjoy a vacation they spent their entire life’s savings on.

For the price of admission, I don’t know how could Disney not offer personal chaperones.

But enough of Disney and their vicious lies. I’ve found the true holder of this title, and it’s Camp Broaden Your Horizons.

The Best Summer Camp Evah

I sent my kids there this summer after conducting an comprehensive investigation of all camps in the tri-state area. Well, after having my husband conduct an comprehensive investigation of all camps in the tri-state area.

I’ve sought out, signed up and delivered my kids to camp every single year they have been on this planet minus before they could walk, and I thought maybe Kevin could locate one for every 10 years I’ve done so. After months of exhaustive research Kevin did that and more. He found the answer to all my prayers.

But wait, there’s more –>

Tweetpeat Tuesday: Funny Tweets About Kids

By now I’m pretty sure you guys already know how I roll.

 

Think I got everything.

Think I got everything. Photo credit: penelopejonze via photopin cc

I know it’s a little early to be talking about school and stuff, but I’m just envisioning my near future. As much as I’d like to trash the hotel and get drunk on the mini bar (although that’s awfully expensive; they’d really be better off going down to the hotel lobby), going to Costco is about as glamorous as my life gets. Actually, if I was being completely honest in my tweet, I would’ve said, “school drop off to Shop Right,” but I needed it to rhyme, and if you stretch “Costco” out while you’re singing it to the tune for “Fancy,” it fits. Like this, “CostcOOowhoaOwhoaO-O.”

 

Alas, it’s still summertime, which means I’m not going to Costco and

But, then, on the glorious, wondrous, all-knowing Twitter I saw Qwertygirl’s genius idea.

But wait, there’s more –>

More Funny Search Terms

It’s time for another round of What Brought You Here Today? My favorite game where I analyze the bizarre and funny search terms that lead deeply troubled people to my blog.

Yeah, I know I wrote about these things. But I was mocking them. There’s a difference. And, I didn’t go out in search of them. They found me. I don’t want to know these things, but if I do, you must too. That’s how it works.

Don't hate me because I found a good photo.

Don’t hate me because I found a good photo. Photo credit: glennwilliamspdx via photopin cc

You already know I’m the #1 source for butt crack and naked yoga searches. That’s right. Number one, Bay-beee! Which I think may be attracting the wrong kind of audience. But, hey, bloggers can’t be choosers. But wait, there’s more –>