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Saturday, December 31, 2011

THANK GOD that's over!!!

SO....MUCH....SHIT, to talk about- I don't even know where to start!

Let me begin with the fact this was a particularly busy holiday season. Every single weekend since Turkey day has been a dead run. So with that in mind, I am going to start the year with take on Party Attire. Do with it what you will.....

I'm a little busty (completely self inflicted) so I am constantly trying to be concious of what my outfit might say about me. Making sure the girls are put away is my #1 priority. I fall apart at the mere idea of having a nipple slip.
 My next priority is this: Do I look like a beached whale in this outfit?
The style right now happens NOT to be flattering on me. I don't want to look like I can't let go of my 20's by wearing all of the old stuff in my closet, but I also don't want to look like a hot air balloon. Sometimes, I lose the battle but, please know that if I do look like Coleman camp tent it's because I don't give a shit that day. Sometimes, if I made it out of the house with eyebrows on, then I deserve a pat on the back.
Third plan of action: Do I look like I am wearing everything on my body 1 to 3 sizes to small. This happens to be the most common offense and I just don't understand. ESPECIALLY with skinny bitches. Anyone who knows me, know that I can't stand the "Skinny girl in skinnier girls' clothes" with the tag hanging out the back to let everone know it's a 2. We know it's a 2---and you're a 4.  If You're HOT- ROCK IT, and if you're a butter-face (where everything looks good but-her face) then you REALLY need to play up the assets. Yep--- I just said it. SURE did.
  I don't think a day went by this month where I didn't see the entire fucking outline of someone's thong underwear through their dress. Where I didn't see 4 inches of roll on either side of  some leggings. LEGGINGS??? There's 3 DAMN SIZES! KNOW when you need the next one.
Here's why I am so baffled by this. I have a HUGE ass. I can't put on a pair of jeans that don't look like a wet suit around my thighs and ass but a hula hoop around my waist. It's fucked up. (that's another blog) but come party dress time, this is a special occasion. Buy some spanx for fucks sake. I'm not saying lets rock spanx every single day cause I wouldn't leave the house ever, cause that's waaaay too much work...but c'mon. If you're gonna be dancing and eating, and drinking then buy the shit that goes underneath to put it away. I don't want to see your underwear, no matter how little they are,  I don't want to see all of your business when you've had 4 martini's and decide to stop sucking in, I don't want to see your multi colored slutty bra hanging out when you decide to drop it like its hot, because it reminds me how atrocious my granny ass nude colored bra is, I don't even buy the padding in the cups anymore, I've had the padding moved to the shoulder straps bitches. Just take the extra time and effort to smooth out what underneath. It's just a matter of having a little class. I don't care how cute that dress was on the hanger, shit looks like a glo-worm on you if you don't wear it right. If you don't know what I glo-worm is, then go google that shit.  It AIN'T CUTE. My public service message has been sent. You can all thank me later.

Thursday, December 8, 2011

Tis the season...... for elementary school performances! YIPPEEE...=/~ NOT

We alllllll get em in the homework folder! The "REMINDER" for the Christmas performance. Well the female spawn's school went above and beyond the reminder.... They reminded us 800 BLEEPING TIMES! By #742, they were already judging the parents that hadn't purchased their tickets to the event for $3.  The reminder message on my voicemail went something like this:
"Hello (Blank School) parents! This is your reminder that you haven't purchased your tickets to see your offspring perform the song and dance with their class this Wednesday! I hope you know you're scarring your child for life and we have your phone #. IF tickets are not purchased within the next 3 minutes, we will be calling CPS and posting your photo in the school contact book under HORRIBLE parents! Thank you and make it a great day!"
Now remember that at this point, they've already sent home a 17 fliers, 3 newsletters and 84 post-it's in the kids' backpacks.
And NO, we still didn't have our tickets.
And the female spawn was NOT dressed in Red and White ---*GASP*
So last night we get there 10 minutes before the performance and the line is DOWN THE STREET. Are you KIDDING me? really? People got there an HOUR before??? WTF?? Is yours and ONLY child? I see no other excuse for you, other than mental illness.
Sorry, that was very judgmental of me. I take that back.
Mind you, there is not one parking spot for miles. So, we drive over in hopes that someone else left early---maybe by the horseshoe. We see one tiny little spot right in front of where the line is. You know the spot, the one where everyone mad dogs you, thinking that you're ACTUALLY going to run them over, The one where everyone stares at you thinking "REALLLLLLYYYYY... you HAAAD to have this spot that is 14 feet away from touching my Burberry purse??? SO lazy"
Fortunately I don't give a shit fatty. I pick and choose my exercise and I don't eat all of my kids' chicken McNuggets either. So I just scored front row parking because I don't give a shit WHAT you think of me. MUAHAHAHAHAHA. PURE evil, I know.
So we are in line, toward the end, because we didn't camp out over night,  and one of the PTA Princesses is running up and down the line saying "THIS is the line for people who HAVE TICKETS, I REPEAT, HAVE ALREADY PURCHASED TICKETS". Me and the hubby look at each other like "OH shit...just got put out on front street..." So he pipes up and says "where do we go if we don't have tickets"
I think time stopped.
the WHOLE line pretty much stopped and stared at us. I think a couple of them took a photo of the worst parents at the school. She says "Over there." pointing towards the dungeon.
okie dokie.
We head over to the "standing room only line" (where baaaaad people go to be stoned)
We wait for the line around the school to get into the multi purpose room. It was a cold son of a bitch out there too! (that's what we get, right?)  So after we stood there and were shunned by the entire first through 4th grade classes parents and family (I am pretty sure that one of the grandma's would have spanked my ass if she were willing to lose her spot in line) We finally get to enter.
Moral of the story is THIS:
We got in the door for $2 instead of $3, we still got to sit down, in a chair, my daughter still saw the whites of our little eyes when she came out on stage and we had NO SHAME in standing up and waving ridiculously and making asses of ourselves until she was able to see our smiling faces in the crowd, just like everyone else, to see her do her thang. She was the cutest little "dancer #14" that you ever saw --Hit it out of the park. Basically, The one person that mattered was thrilled and everything that happened before she did her little jig was irrelevant. WINNING......!

Saturday, December 3, 2011

Oh Christmas Tree, OH Christmas Tree! .....

Let's talk tree here people---- Not the "proposition 19, you can get a license for it now" tree, but the Christmas tree. Ever since I was a little girl, when my mommy used to drive me around in the nice neighborhoods and tell me not to settle for anything less, I dreamed about a house with the perfect window to display the perfect tree. I'm talking 15 feet of tree, adorned with thousands of white twinkly lights and 500 ornaments each hand picked and perfectly placed. I wanted THAT tree. One day, when some crazy lady from the hood (Love you mom) is driving HER daughter around looking at houses, I want it to be MY Damn tree that makes that little girl grow up to be a superficial psycho with a Martha Stewart complex.
Here's the hard part. Every Norman Rockwell painting and Christmas movie ever made, shows the whole family decorating the FARKING tree. So what message does this send? SURE kids, you can help! There's nothing that makes me more happy than decorating the tree as a family. Seeing all of the ornaments in one BIG ASS cluster fuck on the bottom of my $100, hand picked (after hours of driving from tree lot to tree lot) Noble Fir Christmas tree. What's better than drinking hot cocoa while you guys grab a handful of ornaments and throw them up against the tree to see where they land, and then leave the room to go watch The Santa Clause while I pick up the boxes and sweep up the needles, put on the tree skirt, pick up your cocoa cups, put all that shit away and stare at our fucked up family tree. I'll tell you what's better- not letting you touch it. That's what. That shit doesn't happen in this house. . BOOM. YUP, I said it. I will spend hours decorating my tree and by the time I am done, it's going to look like Macy's Christmas section threw up on my tree. The female spawn was over at Franny's house and said "we get to go get our Christmas tree and then decorate it" Franny, knowing me all to well, says "Your mom lets you decorate with her?" to which the female spawn replies"Well, we get to hand my mommy the ornaments......"

MAN, she's catching on fast.

Friday, November 25, 2011

Black Friday.....When the crazies come out!

Please understand that I am posting this blog fully educated. I am well versed in Black Friday as a whole. The ads, the parking, and most importantly, the unspoken RULES. I made my black friday news debut on black Friday in 1996. I was uhhhhhhhhhhh...12 or something like that. ALRIGHT......... FINE-- I wasn't 12. But anyway---- back to my blog. This is my shit- I get to be whoever I want.
My mom and I have shopped on black friday since before cell phones. That's right kids, straight, 2 way walkie talkie communica-SHUN! We bullied our way through  the crowds, we mobbed through with a hot cuppa Coffee and concealer under our eyes, and we got GOOD Deals.
When I had kids, I left the my crumb snatchers at home--- or at Grandma's, or the dog watched 'em, WHATEVER, I can tell you that they never rolled out with us, that's for DAMN Sure....
This year, after careful review of the ads on Thursday night, ALL 1926 of  them, allllll the way down to the tractor warehouse, my mom and I decided that there was not one goddamned thing worth coming out of our turkey coma for. NOTHING, NADA--ZILCH. This pissed me off so I poured another glass of wine. FINE, so I had one of the kids pour it for me,------ Don't judge me. So on Friday, since I had gotten about 14 hours or so of peaceful childless sleep (they went to grandma's to bake cookies) I decided that if I sat on my ass for one more second, it was going to start singing Beyonce's bootylicious,  "I don't think you're ready for this  Jel-leh ....Falalalala- Lala-la- la". So we headed into the madness with our patience cap on. And by "we" I mean that I covinced my poor unsuspecting husband that this could be fun. First thing I noticed-- Strollers and kids.
 Fuck you.
 I hate you.
you know why I hate you? because you just looked at ME stupid when your little crumb snatcher ran in front of me and I almost walked over the little shit. YEP---didn't feel bad either--- do you watch the news, shit bag? Most people don't leave the house without being strapped. One bitch peppered sprayed some fools for a better spot in line!! you have the NERVE to look at me stupid cause I almost stepped on one of them that crept out of the puffer jacket display at Macy's??? I didn't even see the fucker coming!  Did you ride the short bus to get here? Here's the thing people, If you're the broad that headed out to Kohls at 1AM with all four crumb snatchers in tow, only to have one to help carry the goods and another to hold your spot in line, KUDOS to you for having controlof them allll the way til the wee hours of the night, I had to send mine away because I couldn't handle it. If you're the bitch who rolled out in 3 inch wedges, full make up, stroller in one hand and baby on the tit in the other, well then SUCK IT UP Prozac barbie and get used to it, this is black Friday, when the crazies come out! We make a Raiders game look like a tea party at the Jelly Belly factory! Either accept it or wait 'til cyber Monday!

Sunday, November 13, 2011

The Christmas movement has been solidifed by the female spawn...

Well we now know that the female spawn is definitely going to be marrying up. This girl likes STUFF. She doesn't care what, just stuff. I am putting it out there NOW that we will probably see her on the real housewives of Placer County one day.
Last week, while we were getting ready for the day,  the female spawn shoving food down her throat and the male spawn was making eggs---of course burning them over and over and over again because he is so easily distracted by anything and can't focus on the damned egg for 2 seconds, we started talking about Christmas. I notifed both spawn that Santa said he will only be bringing 5 presents this year. The male spawn was fine with it.He went on to list his 5 gifts, (each one more expensive than the one before) But I'm okay with this, I can buy knock offs. At least he's going for quality not quantity.

Then I turn to see the reaction of  the female spawn.........

uhhhhhhhhhhh...she looked like I just took away her birthday.  Keep in mind that  this child has the Target big toy book in her backpack with everything on every page circled. and she looks at it every day.
 Here's the thing. She didn't throw a fit which is the disturbing part. She just stared me in the face with her eyebrows wrinkled and her mouth open, displaying the chewed up egg and toast mush in her mouth. Eyes welling up. I was ready for a fit, I had comebacks ready like "you won't get anything if you act like that" or "I'm telling Santa that you deserve coal in your stocking" etc.. But She looked like a damned mess. I went on to explain calmly that Santa has to have enough presents to give to all the other little kids and that she already has so much, she should be grateful blah blah blah.
FUCK no. Still a mess. She offered her used toys from her toybox to the "Other little kids" . She offered clothes that don't fit her. She tried everything in order to get herself more than 5 presents. She doesn't even give a shit what the 5 presents are!!!! I even explained that she gets so many present from everyone else. Didn't give a shit. We went the rest of the morning where she looked as if she were deep in thought, so perplexed like she was dealing with some sort of internal emotional turmoil like a teenager whose boyfriend just broke her heart. WTF. That's it--- She's going with me to deliver blankets at loaves and fishes this year! I usually wait until they're a little older but she's apparently progressing into a lifetime of greed a little early.  After that, we are going to sit down and watch every said Christmas movie ever made about a less fortunate child than her, with her eyes taped open. By the time I am done with her she is going to need couseling for more than just having a bad mom.

Thursday, October 27, 2011

Not just another bad mom....

I am a bad wife also. was already taken on blogspot and let me TELL you, I AIN'T "that" kinda bad mom..... ehhem.... anyways-
As we get a little closer to Halloween and all of the hot costumes are hitting the shelves, everyone is reminiscing Halloween's passed with their photos all over facebook. You have a Sexy cat, Sexy cop, Sexy Beer Wench, Naked Ballerina, you know, the usual. Here is where I tell you why I am a terrible wife. My husband married me because I can cook. OH, and I can shotgun a beer faster than anyone I have ever met - I am (proudly) the reigning neighborhood champion. He also married a smart ass, foul mouthed, bad mom. Which means I don't wear a sexy anything. my 2 most recent costumes were a fat lady with a dog stuck up her butt and a 200 lb. red hat lady. Complete with wrinkled fake skin and red lips drawn up to my nostrils. I even had red orthopedic shoes. I have my reasons though. people. I look at it like this, ANY day of the year, I can run around with my boobs pushed up to my neck in a short skirt and go to the club, pretending to be 25 again. Or in the summer, I can run around in my bikini that is merely a bra and panties that matches. When will I EVER get to rock a moomoo with a stuffed dog up my crack? HALLOWEEN, my friends! THAT'S WHEN!
So this year, while everyone's wife is running around looking like a Victoria's Secret model at a playboy  photo shoot, my husband will once again stand out from the crowd. I will be rocking black stretch shorts with a  fat suit, and a BIG ASS RED T-SHIRT that says "biggest loser" - That's right folks, I am going as a contestant- at the beginning of the season. Suck on that.

Thursday, October 20, 2011

SMILE! It's picture day and your mom is a having a BIPOLAR PSYCHOTIC BREAK!

Picture day---Most of us have a few of those old school pictures left laying around somwhere. We have missing teeth in first grade, crazy hair in 5th grade, jacked up clothes from that "GOTH" phase in high school- We won't even TALK about my eyebrows in 11th grade- I was like an extra in "Mi Vida Loca". The issue here is that at some point, picture day has turned into this parade of parents trying to prove that they are a better parent than everyone by absorbing themselves into yet one more piece of their kids' existence. Well, PTA Princess, you're ROBBING your kids of the utter humiliation of the school photo. YOU suck. I need to share a couple of examples with you.If you can relate to any of these, then you suck too, and I don't know how you found my blog.
One parent sent her kids picture package back with a note that said;
"Need Re-takes, you made her neck too long"
WTF did the picture company have to do with making your kids' neck? NEWSFLASH! The picture company had absolutely NOTHING to do with you and your significant other breeding long necked spawn. Put a scarf on her and send her on her way.

Then there is THIS little girl who "Practiced in the bathroom by turning the lights on and off really fast so that she could be ready for the flash!" Uhhhhhhhh..... there is a practice ritual for school pictures??? MAYBE you should go practice reading and writing.

And Finally,  my personal favorite-- of all time. A little boy at one of these overpriced, stuffy, daycare centers- OH wait, sorry,---they call it preschool now. He sits down, takes his photo, (remember I said pre school) and when he asks if he can see it, he looks and says "I want to re-take it. I feel as if I look like I am repressing anger"
WELL HOLY SHIT Eeyore! Why don't you go eat some worms? I sure hope your mommy and daddy like you because, with an attitude like that, nobody else will. GEEEEEZUS. C'mon people!!! It's not that serious. It's ONE photo. In the land of digital photography and photoshop, let them have one memory of who they were at that moment in their life, not who you wanted people to think they were. Who GIVES A RATS ASS if someone else thinks your kids eyes are squinty or neck is sticking out, let them be them. If you want re-takes FINE. but blame yourself, not the camera.

Tuesday, October 18, 2011

I'm starting a movement............U can join me if you want to

Yesterday, I got SUPER DUPER excited about Thanksgiving. I realized that it's only a month away and I almost went and bought the Turkeys. It's my favorite Holiday on the calendar because it's allll about food! There are no gifts expected, Turkeys go down to $5- $10 a piece, you can use butter & cream and nobody gives  a crap. *sigh* MAN, I LOVE TURKEY DAY. Then of course I start thinking ahead and remember that Christmas isn't that far away from my beloved turkey day. So much for a good mood. I started counting days til my "Good" paycheck and mapping out what bills I can put off until January so that I can afford to by each of the kids a corvette or some sh*t to top the level of presents from LAST year. Does anyone else feel this way? Like every year they get more and more crap that they don't use? SERIOUSLY, The male spawn had to have a mini laptop- It's sitting there holding up my coffee cup. That was $400 shithead!  the 3 story littlest pet shop that the female spawn HAAAAAAAD to have is buried under 3 feet of my old purses and yard sale items that she has picked up this year (that's right folks, its her favorite past time! Hours of bonding time for $5) SO-- My movement is THIS! 5 normal sized presents, each. One big present each. and I am NOT gonna feel bad. I need to lower the bar. They don't expect me to be a good mom, I am going to need them to hold the same standard for ol' St. Nick! Starting this year!

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

To curse or not to curse

This is probably one of my most controversial "bad mom"  habits. I curse in front of my kids----and I am totally okay with it. I also forget to filter sometimes------FINE---- all the time, when I am around other people's kids. If that bothers them, I'm okay with that also. Honestly, I think it's gotten me out of babysitting SOOOOOOO many times that it's priceless. Here is my take on cussing in front of the kiddos. I am the authority figure. I am not your friend. I am your parent. You don't get to dictate how I run my ship because I've done my time on the "respect your elders" bus. SO THERE.Here's the other thing- I am not naive enough to think that not cussing in front of the kids is going to keep them from doing it. I PROMISE you that your kids cuss when you're not around. There are exceptions. Like when they're sleeping. Here's why I don't give a crap----as long as they respect my authority enough to watch their mouths in front of ME and other adults then I am comfortable that my kids are learning what I want them to learn. This is one of those "Other people think I am a bad mom" things. It doesn't matter if I put a home cooked meal on the table every night, if I hug them and kiss them and tuck them in, or if I work the PTA like Jillian Michaels at a Fat Camp- Someone out there has CPS on speed dial at the grocery store when I look at my kids and yell " Get your asses over here, this ain't a goddamn playground".  If you are the parent who feels that you have to behave on the same level as your kids, that's fine with me, but guess what- until you wash their shit streaked underwear or clean up their 3 am puke mess, you don't get to tell me what to do, I am grown. so suck on that. BOO-YAAAAAAH.

Why does the weather bring 'em out?

I MUST go on this rant. It has recently started raining here in Northern Cali. I love the rain but unfortunately, it brings the idiots to the road. I see it all the time when I drop the kids. Now this blog post is for one of my very nearest and dearest friends. She lives across the street from a school,  bless her heart. NOW- keep in mind that she is aware that there will be horendous horseshoe traffic every day. She is also aware that people will park in front of her house. We can all agree that this is a realistic expectation when living in a school zone, right? OKAY----She was NOT aware that these lazy, worthless BAD MOM's would move her garbage can every day, Park in her driveway every day, park their piece of crap car on her LAWN every day and THEN, just when you think it couldn't get any worse, they look at her stupid when she expects them to move!!! You lazy shitbags!!! I am all for waiting in the line so that you don't have to walk 4 miles to pick up the kids, but to park you car on someone's sprinkler makes you a lazy shit bag. Keep this in mind people. Someone is always watching. BTW- Let me nominate the chic from yesterday as bad mom of the week. Here she thought she was doing her kid a favor by getting him as close to the school as possible to drop him off---to keep his little fruity ass out of the rain- but instead she was teaching him that it is okay to disrespect other people's space and things if it's only for a minute and it suits your needs at the time. CONGRATULATIONS shit bag, YOU'RE the bad mom of the week!

Saturday, October 8, 2011

GOOOOOOD Morning! So I am still tooling around with this whole "Blog" thing. Last night, I am sitting there chatting with my sister-in-law about the situation. The male spawn pipes up "I have friends who build web pages if you need help, mom"
My biggest issue with this entire conversation is that I considered it. I could pay one of these little skinny jeans wearing, hair's too goddamned long, 13 year olds twenty bucks to bust out my blog.hmmm...
Then what? How do I update it? How do I add? How do I learn? I Don't...well sh*t- I guess I gotta do it myself. 
It's funny how many times a day now, that I recognize funny additions for the blog- now I need a new watch (the kind that goes slower that a normal watch) so that there is enough time to post all this stuff! Hopefully I will get all "Blogger Saaaaaavvvyyy" Like the 8th graders are, and be able to take over the world, Pinky! (8th graders don't know about THAT now do they!!! Pinky and the Brain Bitches!

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

Today, I grant myself the "bad mom of the week" award...

I know I know, It is awfully early in the week to be awarding anyone "bad mom of the week", but since I was so terrible all day yesterday, I HAVE to hand out this dubious award  on a Tuesday.
FIRST and foremost- let me explain how badly I LOATHED the idea of getting out of bed yesterday morning. But I did it. I got everyone ready, by this I mean, I had to keep my head crammed up everyone's ass until they conpleted the same morning agenda of tasks that we have done every morning of their lives. I also took the dog outside ( so that he could get the minimal amount of piss out if his system to ensure that he could save some----to piss in my house later-----DAMN, I love that dog), I half assed got ready myself,although didn't pack my lunch---then headed out the door (late, of course). I was inches from being at work when I got the call from the male spawns' school. I allllllmost didn't answer, but that would make me a terrible mother.
I answered to the sound of my kid sounding extra convincing about how hurt he was.
Male Spawn: "Mooooooooommmmm?"
(WHO the hell else answers my cell phone in the morning while I am on my way to work?) I wanted to say this but I didn't
Male spawn: " I sprained my finger and it hurts really bad"
ME: "uhhhhhhhhhh.... OK..Tape it up and go back to class?"
Him: "They can't tape it up. It's really swollen"
ME: "WHAT? They can't tape it up? Alright, *BLEEEEEP*  I'm on my way"
so much for enjoying my cuppa starbucks.
I can't believe that these shit bags actually let my kid call me for a sprained finger?? At this point, I call our insurance advice line, thinking "Okay, maybe things have changed since i was a kid and they can actually do something about a sprained finger these days..." after my 6 minute hold time they told me what I already knew...there ain't a damned thing they can do with it.
So at this point I show up to the school (pissed) and the chick at the front looks at me stupid- so I go on to explain why I was there and she says "Oh, hold on, he was just calling to see where you were because you only live a mile away" hahahahahaha....
go *bleep* yourself.
Well let's see, considering I have a job, much unlike the other scrapbooking, cupcake baking, tree huggers here in suburbia, I was actually---- WHAT????  ALMOST AT WORK....
My kid comes over,  and I see the finger.
The thumb to be exact.
I almost broke it myself. There was NOTHING WRONG with the finger. He jammed it playing basketball.
ARE you shitting me? These people let my kid call me, so that I could drive alllllll the way down there, they let me sign him out for a jammed FINGER????  THIS is what is wrong with kids these days!!!! My mom would have drop kicked me IN the office right there if I had called her at work to pick me up for a jammed finger. My mom probably would have had the balls to slap the broad at the desk too, but that's another blog post.
So, I end up an hour and an half late with a cold $4 latte because of this crap. I understand that at some point, someone got mad because the school didn't call them when their kids jammed their finger. so the school got in trouble, so unfortunately, the rest of us have to deal with this typa crap. Those people shouldn't be allowed to breed. I should have been at work sucking down my lovely latte and my kid should have been sent back to class. You won't always be able to call your mommy to come and kiss it better.

Sunday, October 2, 2011

welcome! The first step is admitting you're a bad, we will work on embracing it.

We've all been there, right? The last mom to pick up the kids from the craziness that is... the after school "horseshoe", the mom who didn't turn in their order for the book fair, the mom who wiped the kids down with a washcloth because we wanted 10 more minutes of sleep, or the mom that didn't hand the kids their lunch money; because you REALLLLY needed to stop at Starbucks on the way to work. The difference between me and your resident "craft hour everyday", helps in every class (for every kid), sews their own *bleeping* clothes PTA mom, is that I truly don't give a rats ass if they think I am a bad mom or not. Opinions are like ...........belly buttons...... everyone's got one. I can't even begin to tell you how refreshing it is when I hear another mom drop an "F" bomb, or say that they're late again to get the kids. I've created this blog to bless the general public with my psychotic rants- and drop a few recipes here and there. Since I don't mind being honest, and have no problem admitting to everyone that I have actually told my kids to "STFU" (and NOT in the form of an acronym), I hope that sharing my blog may help you feel just a little bit better about yourself. Maybe help a couple of you loosen up a little and realize that no matter what you do, how much you participate, how much you donate, how many bake sales you run for the school, there WILL be someone out there that thinks you could do better. You just have to learn to say "I just don't give a rats ass"...and go about your bidness.