tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-61519836138360100352023-06-20T06:06:38.715-07:00Badmomdotcombad momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01709312783154975365noreply@blogger.comBlogger33125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6151983613836010035.post-87849922402716486212016-12-14T21:12:00.003-08:002016-12-14T21:13:34.629-08:00CAN you say RE-FRESHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH??? So So So So sorry my friends- badmom needed a little time away....to refresh! (some say break the fuck down and lose your shit...I just simply say...refreshhhhhhhhhh) This parenting and adulting shit is HARD.... LIKE HARD, HARD...? ya know?<br />
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SO- I'm just gonna jump right back in so that things aren't awkward, you cool with that? :0)~ </div>
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This little ditty is in response to a come to Jesus that an internet phenom fat-shamer recently posted....Ms. Maria Kang! the "No excuses" size 0 shit talker? (google it) Long story short, she was a pageant princess @ 16, had a couple kids, (still young) stayed skinny until age and life got the best of her and she went from fat-shamer to the ultimate "embrace your curves" spokesperson. Basically, what this means, is --- small victory my friends! YUP! A Judge Judy has eaten her words because experience slapped her on the ass with a couple of extra lb's and some dimples and said...suck on that. I, for one, am proud of her for owning that shit! You go Maria! </div>
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You know what? ...... FUCK THAT!! Let's stop an applaud her for a moment.....</div>
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***APPLAUSE**** </div>
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This little come to Jesus got me thinking about all of the Judge Judy's and how it must SUCK to live up to their own expectations? I only know how much it sucked to live up to mine (when I had soooooo FUCKING MANY OF THEM)!! GEEEZUS...it was EXHAUSTING! </div>
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Well, my friends! There is nothing quite as eye opening as Karma...and, ummmm...life..really... I mean it. There is nothing like getting injected with a dose of reality that you never even knew existed to snap your ass to the place you needed to be anyway. </div>
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Badmom has had an interesting year to say the least. EVERYTHING I thought I knew about Life and kids, and people in general, has been eradicated!! HO-LY SHITBALLZ. </div>
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Back to the fat-shamer!...Honestly(ashamed to admit)--- I used to do a little (lot) of this. YUP- Worked my ass off to be a size 6- I was hungry, angry, tired and hungry..did I already say that?...Well, in my defense, I was pretty hungry...</div>
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I take it ALL back. </div>
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Every... single... word. </div>
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There's nothing quite like that 35+ year old, stress induced, child bearing, working your ass off, hella tired now, metabolism to snap your sorry unsuspecting ass back to reality! She's about a FUCKING BITCH, IDN'T SHE? HOLY SHIT?!?!?! </div>
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I have often struggled with the grape or raisin theory. I am no spring chicken anymore... so, do I want to plump up a little bit and have amazing skin and no wrinkles, or do I want to kill myself at the gym and starve to death (not really) to look like a raisin.... Well much like our favorite WWW. fatshamer, after much deliberation, I have decided that somewhere in the middle is the way to go. </div>
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I've decided that a good compromise is this: talk shit about my fat ass and I will punch you in the face! I know- I'm working on it! You're lucky I'm not hungry right now! </div>
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There you go! Happy fucking medium right there! </div>
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If I can offer any little bit of "advice" (<-- I HATE that word....just so ya know...but I can't think of another one right now) The fact is, we all have good days and bad days. There's gonna be wine and chips and there's gonna be yoga & hummus. I am okay with being ALIVE. not just breathing...but truly being alive. If badmom has learned ANYTHING at all in the past years its this:</div>
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Life is short...and, no matter how hard you try, you can't control everything...so hear this my friends. Do the best you can- The best you can is good!! It's never going to be enough for everyone- but who gives a SHIT? it's enough for someone.... I promise. Hold your head up, whether you're a size 2 or not or whether your make the best mac and cheese or the best reservations, OWN it. OWN you. NOBODY is perfect. I know it's easier said than done- and it's even harder in a social media, minute by minute update kinda world. But it's also important to understand that we are all fighting our own battles....we are all winning some,<b><u> and</u></b> losing some. :) Do what makes you happy. Be your own version of happy and healthy. :) Remember this: You're no good to anyone else until you're good to yourself. </div>
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Cheers to a prosperous 2017 and all of the blessings that fucking come with it, sunshine <3 ... and don't forget to smile (when it's real):) ...oh and breathe....'cause breathing is hella important. :0)~ </div>
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Sincerely- </div>
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#badmomdotcom</div>
bad momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01709312783154975365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6151983613836010035.post-39272380526755145422015-02-17T14:07:00.000-08:002015-02-17T15:13:34.823-08:00<div>
What is that SMELL??? OH---it's your yard....</div>
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So if I'm being honest, I have spent most of my kids' lives avoiding play dates and mommy and me shit....for a very good reason. </div>
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It's not that I don't like kids, it's just that I run my ship my way, period. There's no sugar coating it because I have visitors. My style isn't for everyone. I'm sure there's a few parents out there that would love to give me a pointer or 2--- Chances are, the way I choose to parent my kids would give them a fucking stroke. Since I know that I need to keep my pie hole closed, I have avoided the situations altogether. </div>
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SO--- all these years I've spent avoiding this shit, somehow, I am still presented with it. Here's the scoop. </div>
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I have a teenager. </div>
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If you have have ever raised one of these pleasant little morsels of hormonal mood swings, you understand that this shit isn't easy! If you haven't had the pleasure as of yet, try nailing Jello to a tree and let me know how it goes.</div>
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....I'll wait.... </div>
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I've spent 16 years raising this amazingly quick witted comedic genius. This guy has pissed on me, shit on me, thrown up on me, I've completed 12 school enrollment packets including every line of that fucking emergency card OVER AND OVER AND OVER...for the same FUCKING SCHOOL. (how about we just notify you of any changes, huh, buddy...that work for ya) ANYWAY, bought myself out of 14 sports fundraisers (minimum $100 a pop), pretended to like others peoples kids while playing team mom for 2 seasons, classroom art docent in the 5th grade, a few walks of shame to pick him up from the principles office... and I STILL love him with all my heart (yes....I have a heart, in case you were wondering). Not to mention, I could probably feed an entire country on what I've spent on birthday parties and Christmases alone! </div>
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You get the picture. </div>
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So, when someone tries to step in and bestow their lovely opinion on what I should or shouldn't be doing with him, I get a liiiiittttlllleee teeny bit territorial. </div>
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Now--- we've all known "THAT" mom. The mom who tries too hard to stay young and be their kids' friend. The mom that says things like "I would rather have them (insert illegal activity here) in front of me instead of behind my back", blah blah fucking blah. </div>
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that's cool Farrah Abraham, you run your ship however you want, that's your business, I don't really give a shit....personally, I want him to be so scared that I am going to come around that corner and catch him that he thinks twice before doing it. It's called RESPECT. </div>
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I am NOT my kids' friend, I am their MOM first. I am here to protect them and show them how to be functional human beings in society. I am here to teach them hard lessons in life so that when they grow the fuck up and have to go out in the big bad world and be a functional contributing member of society, they will be equipped to do so. I am here to LOVE them and sometimes that means they won't like me and I'm okay with that. There will be no welfare check in their mailbox if I can help it. </div>
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I get it ----that's my thing, not yours.... and I'm totally cool with that.... You do you boo! this is where we should leave it, right? </div>
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But NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. </div>
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Had to offer up your prize winning parenting tips to MYYYY fucking kid on how you think IIIIIIII should be handling shit?? Ummmm...do you have the kids hold your joint for you while you're writing that gripping parenting manual? Check it out- the outcome hasn't been so stellar so here's an idea, stay the fuck out of my business. You go serve up book club with your #1 best selling parenting handbook, and leave us the fuck alone. Sound good? </div>
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Look- I'm not claiming to be mother Teresa...(stop laughing)... I'm just saying to each their own (and I understand there are exceptions) BUT- if you're going to stick your nose over the fence into someone's yard to pass out landscaping tips, you might want to make sure you've cleaned up your own shit...and you DEFINITELY might think of zipping your lip when your yard is fertilized with manure. </div>
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Sincerely not concerned with your opinion,</div>
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Badmomdotcom</div>
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bad momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01709312783154975365noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6151983613836010035.post-18669935712711790292014-11-08T09:05:00.001-08:002014-11-08T09:06:26.907-08:00Falalala....F*** off.....WELL Goooooood Morning. <br />
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NOT.<br />
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SO- about a month, a local popular coffee shop may have started pushing out propaganda for their newest addition the holiday line up. Said new edition excited the FUCK out of me!!! Like a crackhead with a lighter, I COULD NOT WAIT!!!! Well, lucky me! I have a friend who has a friend, who bought some shit of the Internet from a friend who might have some insider information about said coffee shop corporation who has already<em> tasted</em> this new concoction and, JUST as I suspected ... its AMAZEBALLSSSSSSS.....<br />
Now- if you could have seen me in that moment, you would have thought that I won both showcases in the showcase showdown! (if you're confused right now, google that shit) You see, coffee is the only thing I appreciate as much as wine--- let me tell you why. <br />
Coffee isn't just a "drink"... its a symbol. I enjoy my coffee before anyone else in my house senses that my feet have hit the ground (because when I'm up and they smell it, that means their personal assistant is available for service). Coffee = "ME" time. I've always been an early riser but as I get older, Its a little earlier every day to enjoy juuuuuuust a smidgen more of this modern myth we call "me time". (Eventually, my alarm is going to go off at 2 am and I'm not going to know WHAT the fuck to drink!).You see, it the grown up world, coffee is representative of PEACE to me and I LOVE LOVE LOVE it. <br />
The male spawn has hit the age where he dabbles in the cup of coffee from time to time. SOMETIMES, he likes to sneak a couple sips of mine. I'm not a fan.... he actually does it quite often and you would think he killed my puppy by the way I stare him up and down...<br />
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Wine is almost the same thing. Its the "wind down". I've spent the whole day in "Go mode" and sometimes, I just don't know when to stop. I've been known to clean a toilet with my purse and keys in hand after work.....SO--- I guess that makes me a fucking opportunist. <br />
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SO let me back up just a hair ... my friend of a friend and I were under the impression that said new holiday drink was out for the general public to enjoy, so we pulled out our fancy little reloadable gold cards like a couple of first graders playing yu-gi-oh on the playground and OFF she went to said coffee pusher/drug dealer. (I probably should have invested in their stock as soon as I discovered this fabulous little coffee shop -- unfortunately, that ship has sailed and I am stillllllll working.... hey- junior college builds character.... )<br />
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Friend: "HI! do you have the *insert newdrink name here* ?"<br />
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Coffee pusher/parade rainer: "Sorrrrrryyyyyyyyyy...that's not out yet! Can I get you something else?" She said with a shit eating grin her face. <------(FUCK her...she's a bitch.)<br />
Right about this time, friend looks up to see that allllll of their syrups are stacked above the register and she notices that one has the abbreviation for said new holiday beverage. <br />
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WTF? SO these mother fuckers are holding OUT!!! At the end of the day, she walked away with our old drinks. stuck waiting until mid month for that new little morsel to hit the shelves. (even though we know its already there). Moral of the story? He who has the gold makes the rules. That little espresso pusher has the gold so I won't be tasting that fabulous little cup of lovejoy until November 12th.<br />
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Oh, and it BETTER be good or that bitch is wearing it!!!! Happy Fall folks! <br />
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<br />bad momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01709312783154975365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6151983613836010035.post-67035218306788298992014-10-23T18:17:00.002-07:002014-10-23T18:17:35.338-07:00Guess what I heard? ....I'm a bad mom....???? So it has recently been brought to my attention that I am a bad mom.<br />
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Well then.... THANK YOU---- Captain Obvious....<br />
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Really though--- the reason for the observation from some "Judge Judy's" was solely based on the fact that "I never post any pictures or anything WITH or ABOUT my kids.". <br />
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Well, SHIT!! If I don't post it on Instaface, then I MUST not be doing it!! Well then Sugar Shorts! come here...I have a little something to whisper in your face.....<br />
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Ready?...<br />
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Fuck off. Yup.... GO fuck yourself.<br />
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I can barely remember to grab my keys and my purse when we go places, let alone prep myself for 80 selfies. <br />
Not that I owe anyone any explanation for my non-photo posting ass, but, just for shits and giggles, let me enlighten you to a few reasons why I don't post every single moment of our lives on the world wide web.<br />
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#1. I don't want to. .<br />
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#2. I don't give a<i> shit </i>what people "THINK" about how my family spends quality time together. Maybe we're tripping old ladies and taking candy from unsuspecting babies, it's none of anyone's fucking business.<br />
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#3. Here's why IDGAF--- I work.... a lot.... and when I am not working in the office, I am working at home, being a terrible mother. My time with my family is just that--<i>MY</i> time with<i> MY </i>family. That's the way I like it. I don't want to be worried about my lipgloss, or if my hair falling right, etc... (which we ALL know is what happens when taking 84 selfies before approving one that is instaface worthy).<br />
I just want to be with them- doing whatever we're doing. I'm not saying it has to be everyone's cup of wine but, I don't give a shit. When I feel like stopping and taking a photo to share with the world, you'll know-- don't assume that but just because I haven't put myself out there on blast with 112 pictures of our trip to the grocery store, that we didn't go to the grocery store. I have done my time in John's incredible pizza, bitch! And it WASN'T pretty....<br />
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(This little "list of reasons" was going to be a whole lot fucking longer but my wine was going to get warm).<br />
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SO- with that being said, I don't care if you do want to instaface your life, that works for you- and if we are friends, I enjoy checkin' that shit out (and if we hate each other, then I REALLY enjoy checkin' out the shitty stuff.) because I don't get out much- we probably wouldn't see each other until we were 60 if there were no instaface....so I appreciate that you share! I, unfortunately suck at that, so suck it.<br />
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for the most part, I try not to judge-- BUT---- There is ONE exception to the "do Whatcha want" rule. THIS my friends, is a PET PEEVE for good ol' Badmomdotcom....<br />
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The parents that don't do a goddamn thing- EXCEPT post pictures.<br />
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THe one's that don't contribute to any of the ACTUAL parenting in any way, but BOIEEEEEE, when they see that fucker for 5 seconds....ITS BLASTED ALLLLLLLLLLL OVER INSTAFACE!!!<br />
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Do they ACTUALLY talk to each other during that time, or was the whole encounter a photo shoot? You know what really gets my goat, are the dumbasses they praise them for it!!!!!! WTF??? I didn't see that bitch post "HEY!! Worked 60 hours this week to make a deposit into the college fund!" or "HEY!! We were up until 3 AM working on the midterm project that that was 90% of their grade for the 3rd time this year" OR how about "had to run out for tampons at midnight because she woke up and thought she was dying"???? Here's a good one--- had a fucking heart attack when the school called....Let's just say, I had to leave work and he has a couple of days off..." The <i>actual </i>parenting part.<br />
The countless hours every day spent washing their clothes, prepping their meals, waking them up in the (7 fucking times), tucking them in (yesssss...even the big kids), dropping them at school, checking their homework, smelling their breath to make sure they brushed their teeth, standing in their bathroom and watching them because they didn't, Dr. appt.'s,dentist appt's, holy shit the list goes on and on.<br />
<i>THEN</i>---- These MOTHER FUCKERS BLAST all over about what fabulous parents they are!!<br />
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WTF? Did that just happen???<br />
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Well...my friends, sadly....it does---every day...and UNFORTUNATELY, there ain't SHIT you can do about it. Trust me, the struggle is real.... you just have to sit back and wait patienly for about 25 years for them to figure it out...It blows. Doesn't mean you can't get pissy about it from time to time, but don't waste a botox injection for it. But GODDAMN its annoying, isn't it?... That's all! OH, and hey---- did you hear???<br />
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The pumpkin spiced latte is back. ... WINNING!!!!!bad momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01709312783154975365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6151983613836010035.post-1731402368587910522014-02-18T21:37:00.001-08:002014-02-18T21:37:24.409-08:00LIKE WHOA? How did I get here? I miss my blooooooog! I have been WRACKING my brain trying to decide on a topic....! there have been SO MANY!!! <div>
I miss my blog!! I feel like I was happier... more relaxed...oh, and-ummm...drinking a SHIT load more wine! <div>
So much has HAPPENED since we drank last!! I am a failure...I've let you down!!! </div>
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The good news? ........SOOOOOOOOOOO much more MATERIAL.... it's ridiculous! </div>
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I don't even know where to start!!!! So I will go easy on ya at first. This one's funny....you're gonna wanna grab your drink.........I'll wait.... </div>
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JK---NO I won't.... Catch up mother fucker! </div>
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The other day, I'm working... at my JOB.. and it was important.</div>
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We were in the crucial part of the discussion when...</div>
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I get a call from the female spawn's school... and it's not the usual "your kid owes money for their lunch balance and we've been telling you for like....12 days already" phone #. So of course, I answer.</div>
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Well, I realized almost immediately that I should have played the meeting card and left it for her dad to answer. JUST wait until I tell you about the REST of this fucking POINTLESS conversation. </div>
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It begins with the principal (of course)--</div>
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"Hello Mrs. Badmomdotcom! This is **insert principals name**".</div>
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My first thought? (Probably inappropriate...I know...) was, "you think this is my first rodeo? Get to the fuckin' point I have shit to do". </div>
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(No,...in case you're wondering, I didn't say that out loud)...The story would probably end with them in foster care and me paying child support if I had. </div>
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Anyways---- She continues ...</div>
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"Female Spawn" was in here today as a witness...I don't want you to worry.."</div>
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ummmmmm. don't want me to WORRY? </div>
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STOP THE FUCKING PRESS??? What the FUCK did she witness? What did she see?? Am I going to show up on an episode of snapped??? Do I need to take a deep breath and take a shot?... This is MY DAUGHTER!!!! I will shank someone!!!??? So, like any terrible mother, I calmly answer...</div>
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"OH, NO problem!.. Is everything okay?"</div>
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she responds..."Oh yes! Definitely! Goodness! No need to worry! ... " (Like I'm the crazy bitch right now for being worried????)</div>
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"I brought the girls in today because they are having trouble getting along".</div>
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My thought at this point was, "GREAT. One of these crazy little teeny boppers bitch slapped another one..Which one?..I wonder...I think I know...., but just tell me...Hold on, let me put you on speaker, my friends are listening and we're taking bets" </div>
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I know, it's wrong but I couldn't help it.</div>
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She continues... "I had to explain to the girls the meaning of friendship, and what it means to be friends...and how to decide if your friends or not or if it's best to go your separate ways. To figure out if they have a lasting friendship or if they should just not play with each other....Blah BLah Blah Blah Blah...." ummmmmmmmmmm............. this conversation went on for at LEAST 10 minutes.</div>
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<i>REALLY?.</i></div>
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I kept waiting and waiting...... and FUCK-ING WAITING........... for the punch line. I just wanted to scream through the phone "WHO BITCH SLAPPED WHO, get to the good part????????"</div>
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SPOILER ALERT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!.... Nobody slapped anybody. </div>
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This was one of those "we are all organic, tree hugging individuals who care about feelings and one of these little girls doesn't know how to handle their shit". ... </div>
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SUPER sorry if that was harsh. </div>
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Anyway, Long story short...Here's the scoop, they called me at my <i><u>JOB</u></i> to tell me that the girls had a spat on the playground..</div>
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NEWSFLASH! </div>
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That's your problem!! That's what YOU signed up forl!</div>
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TRUST me, I get it, this SUCKS! Hence, the reason I didn't choose it! Don't get me wrong! with this whole "helicopter mom" movement, you couldn't PAY me enough to teach other people's kids! I have my fair share of babysitting days when I want to move to a compound in Texas and change my name but, YUCK!</div>
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Keep in mind that if I thought for 2 SECONDS that this was bullying, I would snatch my little crumbsnatcher up QUICK! I would have no problem Letting her know it's not okay. if it was skinny girls picking on chunky girl or pretty girls picking on ugly girls, etc..., I would FLASH. I am NOT cool with picking on people. This was kids being kids and I can say that confidently based on the rest of the boring conversation that I didn't burden you with. This was building character. Learning that certain personalities don't mix. </div>
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I am confessing now--- I think it's ridiculous that they deemed it necessary to contact me for this shit, at my job in the middle of the day to tell me that there were a group of girls on the playground that had a SPAT. I CHOSE to send my kids to public school and I need to understand what comes with that. I am not going to discipline my daughter for deciding whether she wants to befriend someone,and although my daughter was only brought in as a witness, It's not up to me to tell someone else what to do with their kids either. I don't see this as an opportunity to discipline my kids, or to teach her discipline. I see this as a way to teach my daughter that she is free to be whoever the FUCK she wants to be. If she personally didn't feel that someone is her cup of tea, then she doesn't HAVE to let that chick color on her paper. PERIOD. It's her paper. Welcome to the real fucking world??? people wont like you... who gives a shit. I deal with it every day. (I know, weird, right? but it happens...)</div>
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I know your first question will be, "what if my daughter was in the other position"- I have 2 answers.</div>
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#1. My job is to teach her that she is is beautiful enough and amazing that she is enough. she does NOT have to surround herself with people who think she needs to change. She is awesome enough to shine on her own without all them other broads trying to steal her thunder. PS---you don't need highlights or a boob job til you're at LEAST 25....</div>
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#2. My daughter is awesome. Of all the things I have EVER instilled in her, the #1 thing is that she is smart and funny and beautiful and doesn't need anything or anyone to tell her that. If for any reason, someone decides to tell her otherwise......</div>
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FUCK 'EM....</div>
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She'll be signing their paycheck one day. </div>
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and taking over my blog.......!!!!!!!! Back with a vengeance! </div>
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bad momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01709312783154975365noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6151983613836010035.post-62868419174615600602013-04-18T12:22:00.001-07:002013-04-18T12:22:45.847-07:00The Scarlet letter.......Once again, I go out to my mailbox for the first time in weeks....so that I have starter paper for my fireplace.<br />
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I sift through the MOUND of junk mail only to find my THIRD notice about my childs excessive tardiness... So far this year.... Let me tell you how fucking crazy it drives my husband that I am late to EVERYTHING. I try....I really do!! But I have to squeeze so much shit into a limited amount of time that sometimes...okay...all the time....I exceed that tiny little time limit. So I've decided that I just might write them back. <br />
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"Dear nosy judgmental public school- <br />
I am writing this letter in response to your most recent letter hom explaining to me that my child "Female Spawn" has been tardy or absent at least 3 times so far this semester. <br />
<br />
FIRST of all- do you homework. she's been tardy, NEVER absent. soooooo, IN YOUR FACE!<br />
<br />
second, Please define "Tardy". Because my understanding is that school starts at 8:45. The clock in my car is exactly 5 minutes fast...why, you ask? I don't know. It's pointless.. BUT... when I drop her off at :8:50 on my clock, she runs her cute little ass into her classroom (and her last name starts with T), please confirm on which occasions she was there before or AFTER roll was taken...If she rolled in stealth like a ninja before her name was called then technically, she was "THERE" and I want to dispute said Tardies. One more thing- If you could manage the GODDAMN traffic in the horseshoe a little more efficiently, I am sure our # would be cut in half. <br />
AS a matter of fact, we can have another meeting to discuss the award you're going to give me for never ramming on of these stupid cottlers in your parking lot. I suggest we call it the "Patience of Jobe" award.... <br />
I'll leave that up to you. <br />
<br />
Next--- I am all about kids taking responsibility these days, and believe that it doesn't happen nearly enough--- but TRUST me when I tell you that she is crammed up my ass while I am putting on my eyebrows to be ready on time. Girl is SET to walk out that door on time every day...If it was up to her, she would grab my keys and leave without me to teach me a lesson. <br />
Unfortunately, she's 7.<br />
My understanding is that they don't start stealing our cars until at least 13-- and when they do, they're not in a hurry to get to school. So your idle threat of academic probabtion or whateverthefuck it is that you are threatening, is entirely misplaced. She's not getting her ass handed to her for this one. Here's a suggestion. Lets take some of that money that I keep donating to all of your fundraisers and offer the nostalgic "big yellow school bus" without charging me $240 a month to have her ride it???!!!<br />
<br />
LAST but not least. Even with all of the tardies and being the little social butterfly that she is, she's still at the top of the class. So, I am passing on this suggestion. Save yourself the money for the paper, ink, and stamp and stop sending this pointless letter home. I don't care. I am well aware and you can shove it up your ass. By the time I drop her off, I have dropped the other kid off with breakfast (getting him out the door by 6 in the morning is a feat in and of itself) , been to the gym, thrown dinner in the crock pot, made her breakfast, gotten myself and my entire family up and out the door to get to work by 9... so if my kid strolls in 4 minutes late because her clothes are clean and her breakfast and dinner are made at home with love by her hardworking mom, then I just might start framing your fucking letters as honor badges."<br />
<br />
How's that for justification.<br />
<br />
Sincerely,<br />
<br />
Badmomdotcombad momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01709312783154975365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6151983613836010035.post-64576584340428923952013-01-26T21:16:00.003-08:002013-01-26T21:17:04.440-08:00PUNISHMENT.... Trust me when I say "this hurts me more than it hurts you"UGH..... So who else feels like when the kids are grounded, YOU'RE grounded. <br />
<br />
Let's face it, you can't send them to Grandmas because we all know how that ends. they have a 42 inch flatscreen professionally hung on the wall and a brand new X box because....well.....<br />
"grandma needed to buy one anyway"..<br />
<br />
This blows. I've been grounded to the house for 2 weekends straight because the male spawn got a couple of bad grades. <br />
Trying to explain that the whole ---- "You being grounded SUCKS ASS for me" is impossible. He honestly thinks I enjoy this shit...... UMMMMM.... I'd rather get shot in the face. <br />
<br />
When kids are grounded they will find ANY POSSIBLE reason to get "yard time". <br />
<br />
for anyone who doesn't understand this phrase---- It's when someone is in jail/prison and they are allowed out in the fresh air to enjoy the general activities that normal people take for granted- ( me included....there's nothing I love more than locking myself in my dark house and enjoying doing nothing) <br />
<br />
So I have inadvertantly heard the guitar portion of Hotel California and some Elton John song 14hundredfuckingtimes...<br />
Why, do you ask??<br />
Because he has "Guitar Class" and practice is "homework".<br />
So... the male spawn is grounded... and once again, SO---AM----I-----<br />
yes, again.... apparently he doesn't know the Academic FUCKING alphabet... F is BAD...<br />
.<br />
so he goes through 80 different emotions....... PER HOUR. <br />
Anger, love, sadness, etcccc...... He hates me, loves me, every other second!!!! WTF!!???<br />
<br />
LOOK Man!! I don't understand you!! I need some directioN!!! do you need the most recent issue of Playboy??? Do you need longer shower time??? I Don't get it!! I am so lost...<br />
How do I be an authority figure and a confidant at the same time?<br />
Holy shit... This is a fucking roller coaster and it SUCKS. Could we PUHLEASSSEEEE just go back to loving spiderman and eating dirt ...... pretty please? <br />
<br />
IN light of allllllll this drama--------- Let me tell you what scares me more than anything.... <br />
Everyone has told me since the beginning...<br />
<br />
"there's nothing like a teenage girl"...<br />
<br />
WTF???Are you shitting me??? There is something worse than this,,,, RIGHT NOW?????? OMG!?<br />
<br />
I can't even IMAGINE what is coming....what road lies ahead???? I mean, nobody warned me about teenage boys!<br />
<br />
well, they did, but it was all about closed doors and long showers....<br />
<br />
but they didn't explain THIS SHIT! I have gained 10 LBS and increased my alcohol consumption 110% since he entered his teenage years...<br />
<br />
I think I am going to need a fucking real estate agent to help me start scoping out mental hospitals if teen girls are any worse than this. SERIOUSLY. bad momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01709312783154975365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6151983613836010035.post-23137376676193637932012-10-28T22:49:00.000-07:002012-10-28T22:49:17.543-07:00Bitch Betta Give me my COFFEE!!!!!I am passing this one on from a friend. Fortunately, I never had to deal with this when I was carrying my little bundles of joy- but I PROMISE you that if I had, this guy might possibly be wearing an eye patch today.<br />
<br />
I was recently informed of this appalling display of STUPIDITY and cannot help but pass this one on. Consider this a public safety message---because one day, you will come across the wrong pregnant chic who just might wrap your apron around your neck and choke you out.<br />
<br />
Do you remember being close to someone who was pregnant? If you're smart, you were walking on eggshells and sleeping with one eye open. <br />
<br />
Well, I VIVIDLY remember when I was pregnant (as does my poor,unsuspecting, and almost EX-husband). Which is why I will NEVERRRRRRRRRRRR do it again.<br />
I was MISERABLE-- Fat, tired, uncomfortable, SOBER...you name it, I was wallowing in my own self pity for it. <br />
When I wanted something, I realllllllllllly wanted it. Whether it was a hot dog from the vendor in front of the Pine Cove Bar at 11 O'clock at night or a grande iced white mocha with whipped cream and real milk, or maybe a certain kind of ice from the fountain machine at a specific gas station... I KNEW what I wanted--- and what I was comfortable putting in my body. THAT being said- Please read on. You're going to SHIT when I tell you this..... This is some crazy stuff right here. <br />
<br />
Pregnant chic waddles her happy ass into a "well known coffee shop that rhymes with MARCLUCKS".<br />
<br />
Because she's grown enough to give birth and dilate her uterus to 10 FUCKING CENTIMETERS to squeeze a life out of her vagina, I consider her to be old enough to order a coffee, ---right? (we can all discuss "Teen Mom" later--that's a whoooole different blog) <br />
Anyhow.<br />
She ganders at the menu for a moment before she heads to the register to place her order. <br />
<br />
Barista skips over to take her order. <br />
She rubs her belly. (not because she glowing, but because she's probably had heartburn for the past 2 hours and wants to gargle with and then swallow an entire container of TUMS) .<br />
"Good Morning! Welcome! What can I get for you today! " <br />
She proceeds give him her order, which is followed by a long pause from said skipping Barista.<br />
<br />
"Ummm. I'm Sorry Ma'am. I can't make this drink for you"<br />
<br />
Now---- because I was not ACTUALLY the prego chic at the counter- I can't tell you exactly what she said- I can only tell the story as if I were there myself...so--- read on....<br />
<br />
"Why the fuck not?"<br />
<br />
"Ummmmmmmm... Well... (Ehem).... Because caffeine is really bad for your baby and I don't agree with drinking caffeinated beverages while you're....."with child"....." <br />
<br />
Well HO-----LY ----------SHIT! <br />
How about THIS, you little judgemental PRICK???? Let's turn your penis inside out and shove a watermelon into your ball-sac. THEN You can tell me WHAT THE F*CK I am allowed to order in your establishment. Does THAT work for you????? You couldn't even handle a damn HERNIA!!! This little shitbag is going to tell me that I can't have my mocha????? Did you get high on the Nitrous before you skipped your happy little ass over here? I'll walk the hell out of here, hop in my swagger wagon, and roll through the drive thru and you would be NONE the wiser. but for some stupid reason, you decided that its your duty to push your personal agenda on someone else. Do you FEEL better??? You saved her unborn child FROM WHAT????? Let me guess, one time, you happened to pick up your mom's Woman's Day Magazine instead of playboy when you went to whack off in the shitter and all the sudden your a pediatrician????<br />
<br />
Next time, you little son-of-a- bitch, you decided to play OBGYN, bring your PH-D to work with you--THEN I<strong><em><u> MIGHT</u></em></strong> let you tell me HOW to be pregnant!! <br />
<br />
The moral of this story is that EVERYONE has a cause. Whether it's no lunch meat, no caffeine, no wine, no dairy , no sex, light exercise, no sun, special shampoo, no thong underwear--- whatever you deem to be best for your body and your baby, I PROMISE you that there is someone out there who can find a study somewhere to tell you that what you're doing is wrong. Believe it or not, our bodies are pretty smart and can tell us when something isn't right. (Thank goodness for Web MD right?) But no matter what, it's not up to us to decide what is right for someone else. period. <br />
<br />
This little shit bag is lucky he still has his Adam's apple. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />bad momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01709312783154975365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6151983613836010035.post-24009516193015493862012-10-06T09:16:00.001-07:002012-10-06T09:17:20.902-07:00Halloween CANCELLED....Let me start by giving you a little bit of background on the female spawn. She is OBSESSED with holidays and even more obsessed with her own birthday. So obsessed that the day AFTER her party every year she's already talking about next year. <br />
This year, we are doing a Halloween themed birthday party---Seeing as how the trusty old "Halloween costume" is the biggest waste of money on the entire fuck-ing planet, I don't see anything wrong with trying to squeeze one more appearance out of the damn thing. <br />
<br />
Yesterday on our way to school, before I put on my suit of armour and made my way towards the dreaded "Horseshoe", the female spawn pipes up and says:<br />
<br />
"We aren't having a Halloween Party in my class"..<br />
<br />
"Oh, are you having a Harvest Party instead?" (By the way--- harvest party? STUPID... but whatever)<br />
<br />
"Nope. We aren't having any party at all. "Johnny" isn't allowed to celebrate Halloween and his mom says we can't have a party because it would make him feel bad".<br />
<br />
ARE YOU SHITTING MEEEEE????? I have SOOOOOOOO MANY issues with this.<br />
Here's the thing. We've slowly but surely ripped Halloween out of school and fluffed it up into what we now call "Harvest". Where they can only wear Scarecrow or Pilgrim constumes--Which, to me, screams "Hey bitches!! we don't care how much money you spent on the other costume, we have fabricated some reason for you to have to go spend some more of your hard earned money to buy another outfit that the kids are only going to wear once and you're going to have to find a place to put it or find some unsuspecting friend and throw it into a bag of "hand me downs" once "Harvest" is over..<br />
My 2nd issue is that I want to slap the fuck out of Johnny's mom. YUP. Sure do. THIS "helicopter mom" Thinks she just did something righteous for her kid. She stood up to the EEEEVIL Halloween!! OOOOOOOOO!! Way to go!! You just single handedly alienated your kid from the ENTIRE class. <br />
See here's the thing--- you dumb bitch--- you didn't stand up to some evil holiday, you didn't remove the idle threat of exposing your precious Johnny to some evil Pagan celebration. You haven't protected young Johnny from a lifetime of devil worshiping and animal sacrifices.<br />
Nope. <br />
You took a completely innocent tradition where kids get to eat candy and play dress up and use their IMAGINATIONS, a celebration that creates comradery while they walk together and sift through their candy bags together. They put down the video game controllers and Ipods and JUST BE KIDS. <br />
BRAVO!!! where did you get your motherly instincts, a cracker jack box???<br />
If you want to rip your kids' childhood away because you're a dumb bitch- you go ahead. but keep it at home. By the way, how "Protective" was it to have your kid in a classroom of other kids who KNOW that they don't get to celebrate because of HIM? Because YOU have some vendetta with Halloween!!!! These people are THE WORST. Not only do they just SUCK, but to top it off they want to push their suckiness onto the whole rest of the world and pretend that they're NOT sucky ---and go about like nothing is wrong with any of this. <br />
<br />
I often feel bad for my kids because they have such a terrible mother. But I think I might have found a kid that I feel worse for. Poor Johnny. bad momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01709312783154975365noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6151983613836010035.post-40233593957408776762012-06-24T07:06:00.000-07:002012-06-24T07:06:07.724-07:00When other people's issues become YOUR problemAhhhhhh...good ol' summertime. when the kids want to spend the night with a friend EVERY- SINGLE- NIGHT for the next 3 months....and if/when you say no, it's an all out poutfest that I, for one, DON'T want to deal with.<br />
Here's the problem I have with kids spending the night anymore. <br />
When I was a kid, you ran home, asked your mom, grabbed your pillow, sleeping bag, and pajamas and left. You stayed up all night on the party line or watching scary movies or.... whatever. <br />
<br />
NOWADAYS, you need a fucking MANUAL to let other peoples kids spend the night. I'm waiting for the day when someone's parent's bring over a moving truck with their overnight bag. Here's the thing. I don't care if you're kid is on a completely organic greens vegan, low tofu, non-dairy diet. THAT'S NOT my problem. don't bring 8 pairs of underwear and a plastic king size bed cover because the kid is claustrophobic and has bladder control issues. Don't you DARE bring a container of wipies for your 8 year old to wipe their ass and explain that I need to watch and be sure that they use them because they have a sensitive TOOSHIE...<br />
WTF is WRONG with YOU????<br />
MAybe they have a sensitive TOOSHIE because you've been wiping their ass with a wet wipe looooooong after you should be???? Is it possible that they are not using them when you're not looking because it makes them feel like they have swamp ass when their done doing the "potty"? Who wants wet ass cheeks AFTER handling their business???? .....<br />
NOBODY!<br />
DRY and CLEAN is how one wants to leave the toilet. period.<br />
<br />
You wanna know what kids want to do when they spend the night out? Eat crappy food, and stay up all night! Kids HATE Tofu!!!!CMON let the kid have a fucking DORITO!??? <br />
You wanna know WHY I said yes to your kid spending the night? So that my own kid could be crammed up someone else's ass for almost 24 hours and I can FINALLY clean the bathrooms! So I could have a reason to throw chicken nuggets and french fries on a plate and call it dinner! <br />
I spend 40+ hours per week working, cooking, babysitting, etc.... I am NOT doing all weekend too. So please read my warning- I do not cater to any special diets, I'm not sleeping on the couch so your kid can sleep in my bed covered in plastic wrap, I am NOT going anywhere near your grown kids ass with a wet wipe and I refuse to put Tofu on my BBQ....bad momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01709312783154975365noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6151983613836010035.post-90619121814067307252012-06-07T22:24:00.002-07:002012-06-07T22:26:43.646-07:00SWEEEEEET Summertime....HOL-LYYY SHIT- It's almost here- and for some of you, it already is. SUMMER BREAK. The first 3 weeks are amazing- downright BLISSFUL. I'm not even going to address the remaining 2 months. I just want to take a minute to soak in the happiness of the first few weeks....<br />
For the working momma--- this is the time of the year where you get to know what it's like to go to work level headed. You're not spending your morning trying to get close to presentable for work.... not sure if you put blush or eyeshadow on your cheeks and scraping the remnants of mac N' cheese off of your work pants because you didn't do laundry....not running around after the crumb snatchers with your head up their ass making sure that they heard the goddamned alarm---although YOU were able to hear it 14 FUCKING TIMES. No more- "I forgot my back pack", or "please sign my field trip form", no more open house, blah blah blah. Just get yourself ready and walk out the door... Starbucks, HERE I COME, BITCHES! GOLD CARD STATUS! <br />
For the stay at home momma-----this is the time of the year where you get to know what it's like to spend your morning level headed. There's no need to worry about wearing your morning coffee on your favorite Yoga pants because a crumb snatcher threw their homework folder at you and asked you if you could put it into their back pack. You're not running around with your head up their ass making sure that they heard the goddamned alarm---although YOU were able to hear it 14 FUCKING TIMES. No more driving BACK up to the school to drop off the science project, or the field trip form that you just got last night after a temper tantrum. Its somewhat freeing to just ENJOY. Enjoy sneaking up to Target while they're still sleeping. To throw leftovers in the microwave and NOT have to put a 5 course meal into a brown paper sack. To not go to bed with a headache because you've been YELLING ABOUT BEDTIME FOR 30 PISSED OFF MINUTES. letting them stay up a little later because you KNOW they'll sleep in -----(which means you do too, bitch <3). <br />
<br />
So I lied. I'm gonna talk about July. When the bliss begins to wear off. You know--- when they fight with each other until they put on the gloves and bite each others ear off? They fight with their friend who has spent the past 2 weeks at YOUR house. Does that kid actually HAVE a mom? They even start to fight with themSELVES. You ponder the idea of a nanny? maybe work a few extra hours to pay her? Maybe you're calling grandma to see if she misses them. Maybe you're considering boot camp. Just GET THEM THE FUCK OUTTA MY HOUSE. Well, we all know it ends the same...we regret giving birth, they hate their life and their parents until we attend back to school night for the 18th FUCKING time.... we see the faces of the green, newbie teachers who "Wanna make a difference"....aren't they CUTE? .... Bless their hearts..... By the end of the year, they're wearing their coffee on their work pants and scraping boogers off of their math tests and they've decided that it's not a good time to think about having kids.... Well, if that's the case, I've done my good deed---by giving them a second chance at life. I'll just wait for my Starbucks gift card for my public service.<br />
<br />
HAPPY SUMMER BREAK!!! MUAAAWWWWW!!! <3 :0)bad momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01709312783154975365noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6151983613836010035.post-90014238521314259452012-03-30T23:53:00.000-07:002012-03-30T23:53:32.388-07:00Out to dinner.Why the fuck do I bother. <br />
<br />
I am a foodie. I love FOOD and when I go to a restaurant, it better be good. I would rather pay extra for a good meal than nothing for a shit meal.<br />
<br />
Kids can ruin the entire experience, folks! Case and point is about to be exposed. <br />
<br />
Tonight, after a very long week, we decided to go out to dinner. I am not too big on chains, I'll tell you that right now. I want to sit down, have a glass of wine, and unwind...if we decide to go out, THAT'S what I want to do.<br />
SO!<br />
Tonight, we go to a new fun little swanky spot. Not too upscale to where we though- "OH SHIT, prepare to be embarrassed" but not generic enough to say "WHO the FUCK has a Xanax I can borrow, 'cause it's about to go down!" (ie: chuck E cheese, Johns incredible pizza, McDonalds, etc...).<br />
When we walk in, we see a chick with a baby so we figure we're good....right? <br />
WRONG-O friends! <br />
The female spawn busts out with her drama queen personality, IMMEDIATELY. I'm talkin', she BROUGHT it. <br />
FUUUUUUCK me--- dammit. <br />
She had her head on the table, crammed up my ass, not sitting in her seat, you name it, she pulled out all the stops tonight.<br />
Of course at first, I am attempting to use discretion-<br />
which means, I am all up in her face with my "Mom" voice<br />
"IF you don't knock your shit off right this second, I am dragging your ass to the bathroom for some "Act right"!!! Which she of course responds with:<br />
WHAAAAAAAAAT??? WHAAAAAAT MOMMMYYY? I just want to sit with youuuuuu?<br />
BULL Shit .<br />
You saw me starting to relax. <br />
You sensed the calming demeanor when I sat down and you couldn't stand it! You SMELLED FEAR!<br />
So at this point it becomes pouty lips and I'm not hungry, I wanna go home... she KNEW what she was doing. <br />
" I...I....I'm not huuuuungry. I dont' want anything".<br />
Like Hell. You don't get to use that one til you're my age and married! That's grown ass argument "prove a point" talk. SNAP. <br />
I look across the table and merely state a fact..."I'm going to level her ass if she doesn't get her shit together. I swear..." Hubby steps in and flashes. He wants to level her too.<br />
She calms down a little bit until the shrimp comes out.<br />
"uuuuuuuhuh! THIS IS GROSS! do they have RANCH???" Now, mind you, this was NOT the quiet version! <br />
SHUT YOUR MOUTH. SERIOUSLY. MORE wine please!!! ding! ding! ding! <br />
(No, I didn't have a bell---- in case you were wondering.)<br />
This attitude continued through dinner. At this point, I have take my mind to a place where I have wine and popcorn every night for dinner in a cute little condo by the mall to maintain sanity.<br />
The bill comes- and its not cheap. <br />
The hubby starts having a panic attack (because he's a money Nazi) WHOOPSIES. Now we're BOTH pissed.<br />
The kids are practically biting off each others ears in the 9th round and there's not enough wine in this place to take my blood pressure to a safe level.<br />
<br />
And to polish the night off------------ I didn't win the damn lottery. I might as well have written a check to a therapist and had grilled cheese and top ramen.<br />
<br />
I can't imagine WHY one would question why I work a 9 to 5? Must've lost their fucking minds.bad momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01709312783154975365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6151983613836010035.post-3052198056502759792012-03-28T00:05:00.000-07:002012-03-28T00:05:03.696-07:00Too soon?....or is it....DAMMIT I hate clutter.<br />
I take that back.<br />
I hate clutter in plain view. Hidden clutter is okay. <br />
So why is it that my refrigerator looks like Dorothy should be clicking her heels together and someone should be looking for me to be crushed underneath it? Even deeper than that, why can't I just grab my "cajones" and clean it off?<br />
As one of my facebook friends so eloquently put it, "When is it too soon to take down all the CRAP on the refrigerator"? <br />
I don't have a good answer for this. Although, ever since she posed this question, I can't seem to take my eyes off of this cluttered mess. <br />
Thank you, by the way. <br />
Here's the thing. These fuckers KNOW, I don't know how--- but they DO. If you even happen to change the magnet that's holding up their math test from 3 years ago, THEY KNOW....<br />
but they truly can't remember that they need to brush their teeth every morning? Or grab their backpack on the way out the door? God FORBID you move the 487th stick figure drawing so that you can hang a Dr.'s Appt. reminder or something important. They fall apart! Can't find their shoes But HO-LY SHIT, stop the FUCKING PRESS--- they can see a missing C+ math test from the top of the stairs down the hallway to the left! <br />
"Where's my pilgrim essay?"<br />
Ummmmm... probably in your 2nd grade school box......... <br />
'Cause your in 8th grade now.<br />
Items bearing substance have no place in the hierarchy of the refrigerator display. You have to catch them off their game. When they're distracted, you can start by removing the paper from the veeeerrryyyyyback of the shit pile. One by one, you have to pick them off. It doesn't stop here people, you have to pick off the magnets too. If they see a free magnet, THEY <em>WILL</em> OCCUPY IT. This is a gradual process--- and you're not going to win them all. <br />
At the end of the day- I don't have a fool proof resolution to this age old battle. I haven't won it yet. I can promise you though, that I try to find ways to de-clutter the "<span style="background-color: yellow;"><span style="background-color: white;">museum of repetitive art" that is my refrigerator, every day. The idea of accomplishing this without conflict seems difficult, not impossible, but "throwing away the binky" difficult.</span></span><span style="background-color: white;"> Good luck friends and if you happen to accomplish this without giving up and saying FUCK IT (kinda like the cowboy boots and tu-tu's to the grocery store). Please share. Millions of desperate <span style="background-color: white;">clutter</span> freaks NEED your wisdom.</span>bad momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01709312783154975365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6151983613836010035.post-5656482764750607572012-03-26T13:54:00.000-07:002012-03-26T13:54:06.890-07:00SLOOOOOWWW DOOOWWWNNNN.FUUUUUUUUUUUU*************** OOOOFFFFF.<br />
<br />
I hate these people. I have a WHOLE ENTIRE NEIGHBORHOOD of them. You know the one's-- Where it doesn't matter if you're going 15 MPH or 50MPH, they look at you stupid because you're driving on the road that <em>they</em> are walking next to---usually with their kid or their dog or some shit. <br />
Dog walkers are pretty bad because our little fur babies like to make the ol' walk as difficult as possible by walking directly around a pole or stretching their leash as far as it will stretch to intentionally jog in the middle of the road. I don't know if they are sniffing exhaust fumes, or WTF, but it's annoying either way. No matter how you look at it, it's not my problem. <br />
But kid walkers are the WORST. If you see someone who is walking with their kid they will stare you DOWN when you drive by. Like "<em>HOW DARE YOU</em> drive down the same street that my precious little gem walks by? no matter HOW fast or slow you are going. You must be at a complete stop, or the stare down is inevitable.<br />
I met one of these this morning. <br />
I pull out of my driveway...you guessed it,...... running late. I wasn't even 5 houses down from my own. I sure did look at the speedometer at the time of the incident and I was traveling at 24 MPH. My engine had revved because I had JUST put the car in drive (from reversing out of the driveway) and had to step on the gas. NOW- Please understand that I will leave my neighborhood at 50 if I feel like it. because you can't win with these people anyway, so why not. But this morning, I hadn't even had the opportunity to go that fast yet when he so RUDELY interrupted me. I am also figuring that in about 5 more seconds I would have been speeding, no doubt. The fact is, I wasn't yet. this Asshole comes out to the middle of the road, waving his fist and screaming obscenities telling me to slow down.<br />
I proceed to flip him off, while scrunching my nose and hammering the gas pedal. <br />
I hate him. for more reasons than one. First of all, I can't wait til your crumb snatcher is a teenager and walks in the middle of the street. He will end up being one of those punks that stays in the middle of the street just to piss people off. I can't wait because someone will run his ass over. He WILL be this kid. you're teaching him that other people need to change their behavior,that he doesn't need to look around and pay attention. My kids BETTER learn that they need to be conscious of their surroundings. People drive fast. Everywhere. People throw things, people text and drive, blah blah blah. As long as they are paying attention they should be able to avoid getting their leg ripped off. NOW- What was this kid doing? <br />
OMIGAWSH! I am so glad you asked! <br />
Looking down not paying a LICK of attention.<br />
I saw you guys, DICKweed! I saw you when I left my driveway! had he been on his bike, or playing with a ball, I may have done things differently because I am AWARE of my surroundings. But KNOW this. I don't give a shit if the wind from my passing trucks knocks you both on your ass. But you jumping in the middle of the road, swinging your fist and yelling obscenities was AWESOME. Because your crumb snatcher looked PETRIFIED. He didn't seem to be bothered by my passing truck, but your little display seemed to make him almost wet his pants. *CLAP * CLAP* CLAP* BEAUTIFUL performance shitface. <br />
Don't worry, my bad ass attitude will be the same when I get home, and you see my truck. Then you trek alllll the way down to my house, to find a glass of wine in my hand and a whole lotta "I don't give a fuck" coming out of my mouth. Sleep well! I know I will!bad momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01709312783154975365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6151983613836010035.post-45905282224132601312012-03-21T22:11:00.001-07:002012-03-21T22:26:58.902-07:00Why it doesn't pay to try and be a "good mom".Last week was exceptionally crappy. There was one small ray of sunshine in my week that I held onto with kung fu grip. I had bunko on Friday and it was at my house. This meant I could drink until I could barely say bunko.My job can be particularly demanding at times. Those times are Monday through Friday, from 7AM to 7PM- ish. So YES- bunko is exciting. I do my best to find a good balance between work and home life but sometimes one takes over the other. We've discussed a lot of the reasons that I am a terrible mother, one of which being that I work a 9-5....actually it's more like an 8:30-6:30 ish. I squeeze a lot of stuff into a little bit of time. <br />
Back to the story.<br />
I got a phone call last week from a loving, doting, individual in my kids' lives. I want to throw out the disclaimer that I understand that this person loves us all and would do ANYTHING for any person in my family. They have a huge heart and really, truly, DO only mean well. Now, with that being said, she ripped me a new asshole last week. My sons grades are shitty, so he's grounded. I know we're not supposed to do that anymore, we're supposed to let them be free souls and give them space to be individuals and all that Emo crap. Unfortunately that flies over like a fart in church at my house. You are either an active participating member of our family or you are exiled to the "have some respect and get off your lazy ass" dungeon. Well to some people, they're take on it is that my son would "have some respect and get off his lazy ass" if I were a doting loving stay at home mom, but since I never see my children and they are so scarred, this is their cry for attention. It's sad really. I was going to sell him to a band of traveling gypsies to offer him a more comfortable life but then who would empty the dishwasher? Guess I better wait 'til the female spawn is old enough to do it.<br />
Anyhow- Yes, I do occasionally deal with a smidgen of personal turmoil about how much I work. That turmoil is typically interrupted when one of my kids chucks the remote control at the other one's head, triggering an all out war of the siblings. So this weekend, I spent Saturday doing my weekly mom stuff Laundry, bills, menu planning, (you know, all the stuff that gets us all fired up and pissed off) then we sat down and watched movies and spent time together.<br />
Sounds super sweet and innocent, right?<br />
I'mma call bullshit on myself right now. <br />
I did it, because I brought home work that HAAAAD to be done over the weekend. No exceptions. So Sunday morning the hubby says "We should take the kids to the snow!" <br />
FML.<br />
I responded with "uhhhhhhhhh.... you sure? I mean, a storm could roll in...uhh... I just put a 10 course breakfast on the table so I could go hide and work while you were all distracted"<br />
<br />
"We'll be home by 6 or 7 and you can finish work stuff." <br />
<br />
WTF do I say to THAT?? I've already been called out for my work habits this week???? They're all playing on my weakness right now and that blows. So you know what I did? <br />
<br />
caved to the guilt and got our snow shit ready, hopped in the truck and rode off into the sunset. <br />
<br />
Know what I did after that? <br />
<br />
Got stuck in the DAMNED truck for 12 hours, with no internet connection, 2 hungry restless kids, A bag of crappy snacks and a coffee. Oh, and a big ass thing of water that I couldn't drink because i didn't know when I was going to be able to pee again. PSHHHHH- I'm not making THAT mistake twice. <br />
<br />
Know what I did after that? <br />
<br />
<br />
clenched my ass cheeks together for the last 1/2 of the ride home because the axle broke on the truck, and we fishtailed every time the hunny nudged the gas pedal. Good thing too because doing butt clenches was the ONLY exercise that I got that day (thank you Jane Fonda for making that an actual "exercise"). You got it people, instead of just saying,"no judge Judy, I won't spend my life being guilted about the fact that I work and I like it! I am going to do the work that I said I was going to do and not feel a bit bad about it. My family can go to the snow if they want to, but unfortunately, I am scared pissless of flying off of a cliff in a snowstorm and not being drunk enough to sleep through it". I caved and you know where it got me? pissed off, cold, wet, annoyed and 2 metal plates for butt cheeks. So I guess LITERALLY being a good mom almost killed me <br />
<br />
BTW--- I Still haven't gotten a VD gift.bad momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01709312783154975365noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6151983613836010035.post-89232196271418436102012-02-16T09:21:00.000-08:002012-02-16T09:21:10.755-08:00VDYesterday morning started out all "Cupcakes N Flowers". Sun was shining, birds were chirping, blah blah blah. I woke up extra early so that I could run out and get the hot N fresh heart shaped donuts from krispy kreme. (my family loooooooves them some donuts!) I had already purchased everyone's cards, sees candy, and lotto scratchers for the inside of their cards. (yes, add this to the list of reasons why I am a terrible mother- I encourage underage gambling.... *GASP*) I even stuck a little something extra in the hubby's VD card along with all of the items above.<br />
<br />
Everyone wakes up super excited with their VD gifts and surprises and sugary shit (Like how I did that before school? Payback for all those teacher in service day...haha! SNAP!). <br />
Thanks mom! Happy VD to you too! Hubby kissed me goodbye and says Happy VD! :0) awwwwww, idn't he sweeeeeeet! Then we all scurry out the door to tend to our daily endeavors. <br />
This was going to be Taylors first day back at the onsite after school program. I dropped off all of the paperwork (YUP, that morning) to find that she can't attend that day, they need to wait 24 hours. I wasn't surprised, I knew I was pushing my luck---but you can't blame a girl for trying, right? So I frantically call Franny to see if she can pick the female spawn up one last time, cause i'm a terrible mother and once again procrastinated until the last minute (getting the paperwork to the right people) and Franny saved my ass once again. <br />
Once I get to my jobby job, I call the hubby to say that the female spawn was going to be at Franny's (not adventure club like originally planned) and that I would pick her up b/c it was all my fault that they lost her paperwork and couldn't have her start that day, I don't know WHAT happened considering I turned it in on Friday? <br />
He says "okay~" <br />
Mind you, he got off at 4PM. Which is 2 hours before I got off. So he must have been planning something SUPER DUPER special for me for VD...awwww.... I'm such a lucky girl, I don't neeeeeed anything, its just a Hallmark holiday- He's such a silly goose! <br />
Everyone posting photos all day of their flowers they got at work, or their candy, all the fun stuff a girl likes. I keep gandering by the front desk to see if my surprise was here yet....not that I need anything...but I wanted to BE here in case something DID show up! Nah--- but that's not his style anyhow. <br />
So I call when I leave Franny's-- about 7. I had spent 10 hours at work, 25 minutes on the freeway to go 2 miles...ugh..I was way too tired to try and throw together the pizza pockets (heart shaped and homemade! for my family Valentine's dinner) So I throw out the idea of Chinese take out. After ALL, that would have given him and extra few minutes to put the finishing touches on my VD surprise. I just don't know how I got so lucky.... <br />
I get home, house is freezing ass cold, no fire in the fireplace. Family is all home in their comfy's chillin' in front of the TV. we all eat dinner, my son gives me his VD card (funny as hell ,BTW, he DEFINITELY got my sense of humor) and chocolates. I am wondering at this point if I should tiptoe upstairs or just wait until he says I can go see. I go upstairs to shower really quick. Come back down, finish watching the movie. It's about 10:30. <br />
At this point, there better be a tiny ass blue box or some shit in his pocket 'cause I don't see any signs of my surprises floating around in the open anywhere.<br />
Everyone stretches, starts to head up stairs- I try my very best to stay awake until midnight b/c that is the only saving grace he has that could POSSIBLY keep him from a Mothers day 2011 repeat episode (let's just say I went APE shit.... All CYBIL on his ass). <br />
Midnight hits and he says..."Are you mad?".... <br />
<br />
NOOOOOOOOOO HE DI-UHN!??? I can't imagine WHAT IN THE F*CK would I have to be mad about? I will CUUUUUUTTTT YOUUUUUUUU!!!! <br />
<br />
The moral of the story. I didn't get shit. This Blog is To Be Continued, cause this ain't OVER........bad momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01709312783154975365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6151983613836010035.post-45430809975111664132012-02-13T16:52:00.000-08:002012-02-13T16:52:28.869-08:00Had a moment this weekend.As you all may already know, I don't really give a crap what other people think -----most of the time. Unless I think that they are thinking that I am dressed like a 2 bit hooker, at which point I will promptly return back home and put on a sweater. Other than that, don't really care. So as I was on my hands and knees on Sunday....cleaning the floors (you dirty birds).... I started running things through my brain. Because that's what I do. It slowly turned into me trying to think of all the instances where I was being judged for my parenting (or whatever else). Because I was not only bitchy, but was slightly emotional due to a little visit from Aunt Flow, I started judging the Judge Judy's for judging me. Seriously people, this is what I do when left alone to my own demise. So, since I was guilty yesterday for doing what I loathe more than anything, I am repenting right now to my peeps to make sure I am being honest, with not only myself but you guys as well. Please see a couple of my personal sins, listed below. <br />
<br />
1. As a group of us moms chat at a birthday party enjoying a glass (or 3) of wine, another mom shows up. Being the hospitable group that we are, we offer her a glass of wine. She says, "no thanks...." <br />
<br />
NOW. She should have stopped here. That's what I would have done. Or I might have said I was sick or hungover or something. But nooooooo-- she precedes with "I don't like to drink in front of my kids,where should I put the gift?".<br />
How about right up your ass. Something has to go up there behind the stick. <br />
Here's the thing. There have been MORE than several occasions in the past where I have seen this broad HAMMERED in front of her kids. I've practically seen her teach her kid how to mix up a margarita so she didn't have to stumble across the room! All of which I am not judging her for. I am judging her because suddenly she wakes up one day and decides she's Mother Theresa and she wants to let everyone know that her shit don't stink. Well then, sunshine! Call your AA sponsor and have them help take down all those photo collages on your walls of you taking shots with no hands or sipping mai-tai's with your BFF out of penis straws with condoms taped all over your shirt. Jus' sayin'. <br />
<br />
2. EHHEMMMM- One night I was at a bitch 'N' stitch with a pretty mixed crowd, including kids (hardly seems worth the make up if you ask me, but whatever). I yell at the spawn, "Quit running! This ain't a damn playground! If I have to say it again, I'm gonna bust your asses!" <br />
*sigh* I should have just said some June Cleaver shit at that point, but by the time I realized the critical level of this situation, it was too late. From the other side of the circle I hear (in a passive aggressive giggle) "WHOOPSIE! Someone has to put a quarter in the jar!" <br />
REALLY? You're going to stand over there and say something to me about the word ASS? How about I tell you about yourself. Let me judge YOU for a minute. Let me use ASS in a different sentence for ya. Day in and day out, you show your kids that it's okay for mommy to work all day every day, drop the them at daycare on the way TO that job while her husband, who hasn't had a job in 4 years sits on his ASS all day and plays video games. Occasionally getting up to eat whatever food you have left. Meanwhile, you can't pay your bills, you're paying for SOME of your childcare while the government subsidizes the rest, cooking free meals that you're getting because your husband still "can't find a job" (apparently holding out for management) while he tells you that you're a "fat lazy bitch". You must be so proud of all the quarters in your jar. Maybe if she watches you long enough, your daughter will get to marry someone juuuuuuust like her daddy. <br />
3. I am yelling at the kids to pick up their shit. Which happens waaaay more often than I would like. They're shrugging, hemming and hawing and generally not happy. <br />
Judge Judy # 3 says "I'm gonna have to kidnap those little sweeties and bring them to live with me! I just read that book "parenting with love and logic with my book club, it's really good!"...teeheehee... giggle giggle. <br />
<br />
Do you still have that book? Could I borrower it so I can smack you in the face with it? Once again, the passive aggressiveness KILLS me. First of all, I know you talk about the way I raise my kids, I hear things allllllllll the time through mutual acquaintances. Here's the thing. Maybe you're the sweet, nice, doting, classroom parent, carpool driver, cookies at midnight type. Although I'm not that mom, I'm also not the "haven't cleaned your house in 4 years and the last time you did was because you were looking for the computer mouse to water your garden on Facebook, couldn't put a home cooked meal on the table if you were the last living as*hole on the post apocalyptic planet earth (so everything comes out of a paper sack), can't remember the last time you washed your hair or put make up on your face but you're pretty sure that that Mary Kay lady who brought the Ambrosia salad with your order last time might be dead now" mom. All moms are different. We don't have to all be alike. I choose not to be like you, No actually, I would rather shit myself and sit in it all day than be like you. SO THERE. And I promise that if you ever DID try to kidnap my kids, I would fly over to your 800 square foot mansion and pummel you, then I would bring my babies home and immediately give them a bath. <br />
<br />
So there you have it friends. I apologize for my rant. It was judgmental and rude, almost uncalled for. I hereby relinquish all responsibility and chalk it up to a "bad day". I promise I will be better tomorrow. WHERE THE HELL IS MY CHOCOLATE?????bad momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01709312783154975365noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6151983613836010035.post-9993441659632784562012-01-21T09:32:00.000-08:002012-01-21T09:57:51.925-08:00ooooooooooooooooooh-- You WORK?DAMN I LOVE this one. The age old "working Mom vs. Stay-At-Home-Mom". AS much as a dislike Oprah Winfrey and refuse to support any of her racist rubbish, one day I got STUCK. There was a battle of the momma's going on. I was intrigued, I couldn't look away! <br />
I have stayed home with my children(and wanted to shoot myself) and currently, work a more than full time job. I see both arguments. Why can't these crazy bitches do the same thing? I see them about to claw each others' eyes out and I am thinking, where the @#%$@ are your kids right NOW? Are they watching this? Can they see your judge judy, "I am better than everyone else on this stage" attitude RADIATING off of you? because I sure the hell can!!! It's like Oprah ran out and found the WORST debaters on the planet to have this argument on her show????? Let me just tell you how I see it- take it for what you will.<br />
<strong><em>Stay at Homer's</em></strong>: This job sucks because it never stops and it is thankless. Everyone wonders "what you do all day" and why you can't find 5 minutes to put make up on your face. You lock yourself in the bathroom from time to time to cry it out because this sh*t never stops, there is no "Friday". You are <em>expected</em> to constantly have playdates and the working mom down the street always thinks it should be at your house because she doesn't know what you do all day. Everyone you know thinks you have plenty of time to run their errands for them because they know that you don't have anything else to do all day--they're doing you a favor helping fill up your schedule. Your husband wants to know why dinner isn't ready as soon as he bangs his fork on the table because he cant' imagine WTF you had to do all day and why you couldn't manage to put a lick of makeup on your face. Here's the thing people, Stay at homer's have their perks but for the most part, they're entire day is at the mercy of everyone else, They have to drop off, pick up, volunteer, clean, cook, sports, lunches, homework and constantly try to prove the everyone that they actually do stay busy all day. They are at the beckoned call of the crumb snatchers because crumb snatchers are quick to rat you out (ie: MOM!! You were supposed to wash my PINK socks for my dance RE-CI-TAL!!!! or "MOM!!!! Why didn't you sign my field trip form???") The reason that they have to do this shit? 'Cause nobody can imagine WTF they do all day...They wipe everyone's ass for them and everytime they even attempt to put make up on, it's time to take care of someone else. queue in the thankless part. <br />
<br />
<strong><em>Working Momma's: </em></strong>This job sucks because all the judge judy PTA princesses think you're a piece of shit and you can never do anything to change that. Them, along with your mother in law, will NEVER understand why you are so selfish that you can't give up your Jimmy Choo's and MAC foundation to devote time and love to your family. Do you KNOW how many calories and chemicals are in that Chinese take out that you pick up 3 times a week and feed to your family? That cannot be healthy! You can never move up in the corporate world because even though you have worked your ass off for the past 5 years, management will always remember the time you had to leave because your kid jammed his thumb in first period. Everything that the stay at homers do all day has to be done in a 4 hour span after you get off work and your weekends are spent handling the playdates and housecleaning. Your husband is still looking for dinner and the homework still has to be checked . I wake up at 5:30 and hit the ground running. I get ready for work, make breakfast for the kids and take them to school. I get off at 6 come home, cook dinner, make sure showers are taken and homework is done, get everyone in bed and do my stuff too. I get to bed around 11ish. I appreciate the stay at home mom because I know that I can't do it. it's not for me. I don't like faking my way through a PTA meeting, I HATE volunteering as team mom and I can't watch my mouth. I've tried- curse words spew out of me like green shit from Linda Blair in the excorcist. I am a worker and have always been a worker. I think I forged my moms' signature on my first work permit--- 'cause I was 13. I feel worthless when I don't work which makes me worthless to everyone around me. If a stay at homer doesn't approve of me working 10 hours a day, I'm okay with that. They didn't blow these crumb snatchers out of their vagina so it's not their problem. The flip side of that coin is that I give the stay at homers a LOT of credit. It's a tough job! So if we could all just unite and appreciate that people are different, moms are different and we can only do what WE think is best for our family this world would be a much happier place. Embrace it! Stay at homers- our kids come to your house for cookies and hugs because the poor things, their parents are never home. Your kids come to our house before we get home from work to learn life's lessons like making pot brownies and looking at dirty magazines, because kids need space to make mistakes or learn how to make the right decisions. Both styles have their ups and downs... Ups: dirty magazines Downs: pot brownies...teeheehee... . My poor kids need a hug. Any stay at homers available? SHEESH, what else do you have to do all day? now I'm just pokin' atcha :0)bad momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01709312783154975365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6151983613836010035.post-52710490489508188432012-01-18T10:11:00.000-08:002012-01-18T10:11:04.417-08:00I have been inspired.This weekend was a little offbeat for me. There was no hangover but there was drinking. There were no children but no events to attend and no work to do. It was me and my selfish schedule of events that only benefited......you guessed it.......ME. It was beyond fabulous and I don't feel guilty. <br />
It started with Friday off of work. I took the entire day AWAY from anything work related. Anyone who knows me, knows this is <em>unheard </em>of. NOW- Mind you, I haven't made it to ONE SINGLE field trip or book fair this year cause <em>"I have to work".</em> But give me some 6 inch roots and 8 lb. weight gain from the holidays, and all the sudden it's an <em>EMER-GEN-CY worthy</em> of the day off. Don't judge me. <br />
I called my momma with the ol' "slumber party at nanny's" (that's Grandma) set up. I asked her if the kids could come over, she said;<br />
"Suuuuuure! Where are you kids going?" (another reason I love my momma, she refers to me and my hubby as "Kids" still---could be based on our behavior but I'll take it...) <br />
Me: "Not a DAAAAAMN place----Not together anyway. I am spending my weekend pretending to be rich and famous. Although they all have live in Nanny's - we can work out the kinks later- PS: Here are their medical cards- don't call me- You know what to do" She knew--- she didn't argue, him haw, no fear of commitment to the weekend with the kids (she's a commitment phobe)- Nada. She knew that if I hadn't come up with some sort of purpose for the slumber party such as a birthday or a wedding then I MUST be a MESS. and I was. <br />
<br />
DAY ONE: Dr. appointment, hair appointment, and nail appointment, "fast food for dinner" appointment and wine. I cancelled the Dr. appointment.... That seemed a little too responsible for the schedule that day-I just couldn't fit it in, I was way to busy and didn't want to exhaust myself<br />
<br />
DAY TWO: Pedi, lunch, dinner and...YUP.... more wine. <br />
<br />
DAY THREE: Shopping, facial, dinner, wine, sleep. <br />
<br />
HOLY SHIT. That was aweeeeeeesome.<br />
I swear ladies, we NEEEEEED to do this all the time!! OMG! Those housewives of whatever counties have it together more than we all know! No wonder those broads look amazing. (with the exception of the one's that look like they're skydiving 24/7), Hire a nanny or housekeeper whatever, just do it! take a weekend. I feel pretty and skinny and relaxed! I walked around allll weekend on my own damn schedule, swinging my purse arm everywhere I went in workout clothes and tennis shoes that look like they've never been worn. Walking across parking lots without looking for cars being totally inconsiderate and I bossed people around at a couple of front desks because I felt so fabulously bitchy. It was amazing. From now on, Thou shalt not judge the real housewives, they DO feel entitled and its an awesome feeling. It comes with the territory. Those ladies are smarter than we all think. Ask my family, there is nothing better than a momma who gets transformed into a skinny, pretty, balanced, relaxed housewife over a weekend. and I know I look waaaaaaaaaaaaaay younger. My new movement- mom's weekend..at least twice a year. Do whatcha want when you want for an entire weekend. Spend one small blip in time, NOT being a mom and a wife, and all the other shit that we are 24/7, day in and day out. You'll be glad you did and you deserve it!bad momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01709312783154975365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6151983613836010035.post-84605578594756082812012-01-08T10:57:00.000-08:002012-01-08T10:57:36.320-08:00WTF is wrong with people???????SO the other day, I am walking through one of those organic tree hugger stores that is like Whole Foods but cheaper and smaller. There's this chick, 2 kids in tow about 3 & 4, a husband who looks like he wants to drive his shopping cart right into traffic, and one little one ----ON the boob. <br />
I have 2 problems here. 1 is that she breastfeeding the kid and then picking up fruits and vegetables like I want her boobie juice anywhere near my oranges. Im GROCERY SHOPPING DAMMIT. I Do NOT want to see that!!!!! The blanket is falling off, the kids are running around screaming (both of them have the little shopping carts), the husband is about to pull out a gun and shoot himself and there she is, content as can be. <br />
Now, I was not a breastfeeder- Never comfortable with it no matter how much propoganda Kaiser wanted to shove down my throat about how breastfed babies are healthier and smarter and blah blah bullshit. I am STILL not comfortable with it, but I can respect that I am the exception not the rule on this one. I am creeped out by the thought that my husband enjoys them for one reason, and the kid enjoys them for a completely different reason- I choose to feed my whole family from the same place- The KITCHEN. I don't run around the store with my boobs hanging out and I don't expect you to either I don't care WHAT they are being used for.<br />
Now onto my 2nd issue--- WHY are you here? Why did you feel the need to drag your entire family out to the itty bitty store and subject all of us to your madness?? You're mother must not have breast fed you because you are <em>certainly</em> not smarter than the average bear. Here's an idea... How about you stay home and extra 5 minutes, throw the kid on the tit while your there, THEN when he's done eating you can go to the store and dad can stay home with your other two crumb snatchers and continue watching the football game and the rest of the world doesn't have to be subjected to your loud obnoxious kids, your bare boob and your miserable husband. This store ain't big enough for all of us.bad momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01709312783154975365noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6151983613836010035.post-83228165522867803712011-12-31T08:34:00.000-08:002011-12-31T08:34:15.621-08:00THANK GOD that's over!!!SO....MUCH....SHIT, to talk about- I don't even know where to start! <br />
<br />
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.....<br />
<br />
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.<br />
My next priority is this: Do I look like a beached whale in this outfit? <br />
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. <br />
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.<br />
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. <br />
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.bad momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01709312783154975365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6151983613836010035.post-47851019832375062832011-12-08T07:27:00.000-08:002011-12-08T10:48:18.060-08:00Tis the season...... for elementary school performances! YIPPEEE...=/~ NOTWe 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:<br />
"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!" <br />
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.<br />
And NO, we still didn't have our tickets.<br />
And the female spawn was NOT dressed in Red and White ---*GASP*<br />
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.<br />
Sorry, that was very judgmental of me. I take that back.<br />
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" <br />
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.<br />
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"<br />
I think time stopped.<br />
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.<br />
okie dokie.<br />
We head over to the "standing room only line" (where baaaaad people go to be stoned)<br />
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.<br />
Moral of the story is THIS:<br />
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......!bad momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01709312783154975365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6151983613836010035.post-39338181653582323672011-12-03T11:17:00.000-08:002011-12-03T11:17:56.800-08:00Oh 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. <br />
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......"<br />
<br />
MAN, she's catching on fast.bad momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01709312783154975365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6151983613836010035.post-72721467459756543662011-11-25T21:57:00.000-08:002011-11-25T21:58:49.790-08:00Black 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. <br />
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. <br />
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....<br />
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.<br />
Fuck you.<br />
I hate you. <br />
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!bad momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01709312783154975365noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6151983613836010035.post-49580681319368304972011-11-13T07:39:00.000-08:002011-11-13T07:39:20.180-08:00The 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.<br />
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. <br />
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Then I turn to see the reaction of the female spawn.........<br />
<br />
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.<br />
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. <br />
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.bad momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01709312783154975365noreply@blogger.com0