Friday, September 28, 2012

Blog Fright

Image courtesy of Stuart Miles at

Congratulations my friend!!! You just wrote a brilliant post! It's funny, creative, and well received. Your friends and fellow bloggers rave about it. Your post gets re-Tweeted multiple times, and you proudly congratulate yourself for being awesome. You're on top of the world it seems. Invincible! Nothing can stop you now. But wait! Don't celebrate too soon! You set the congratulatory donut down and pick up a paper bag to breathe into (or vomit in).

You re-read your plentiful comments and pure panic sets in. Comments like, "I can't wait to read more". Oh dear God, they expect me to write more? Panic turns to terror. What in the hell am I going to write about this time? What if it sucks? What if i'm a one blog wonder?

You quickly rack your brain for new ideas. Let's see, what's happened to me lately?

I was late dropping off the kids again…boring.

I spent the morning plucking grey hairs out of my head and crying…pathetic.

My youngest kid just said "dammit" again...but i've already blogged about my children's foul mouths.

That's it you think. I'm done, finished, over! You bang your head against the desk and begin to contemplate other options. "Perhaps i'll start one of those giveaway blogs", you think to yourself. Desperation has set in and you'll do anything at this point to keep on blogging!

You completely avoid your computer like the plague, which is funny because your computer has actually been infected with a virus. It's called blog fright and don't worry, it happens to the best of us! Nothing is scarier than blog fright. It's as if it takes over your mind and sucks out any and all creativity. You can't even think about writing, and if you are brave enough to try and write something you re-read your post and think, "Wow, this blows. My 4 year old could've done better than this".

So how do you combat blog fright? You drink. No, not really, but hey if it helps you, then by all means go for it! I actually choose to embrace my blog fright head on. I put on my comfiest pajamas (okay, so I do that regardless) and I avoid the computer. I don't even think about blogging for a while. Instead I find other ways to occupy my time. I chat with friends on Twitter. I re-Tweet my brilliant post a few more times just in case it really does happen to be my last good post. I read other blogs and complement my friends on their brilliant posts. I catch up on missed television shows, and if my hubby is really lucky, I even throw a load of his socks into the wash, as I caught him digging through the dirty hamper the last few mornings and grumbling about having to wear smelly socks to work.

The next time you write a brilliant post, or even if it's not brilliant but just a post that you're really proud of, enjoy it! Don't allow those feelings of blog fright to creep in and ruin your moment. Enjoy your 15 minutes of bloggy fame. You earned it! Blogging is so difficult sometimes. You don't have anyone telling you what to do, or how to do it. It's all on you, and you can either fold under pressure, or use that pressure to just push yourself further. You can't be brilliant all the time, and sometimes you're going to fail. But so what? Who cares? No one is going to judge you. Okay so some will, but they don't count. Your friends, fans, and fellow bloggers will still be there for you, cheering you on, through good posts, and bad (like this one for example).

Tuesday, September 25, 2012

Suck it up, buttercup

I'm sick and all I want to do is curl up in my bed with the covers pulled over my head and drift off to sleep and not wake up until I feel like myself again.  It all started a couple of days ago.  I woke up on Saturday with a sore throat.  I somehow trudged through the day and assumed, "Maybe it's just allergies and i'll feel better tomorrow".   However, by Sunday morning my nose was completely stuffed up, my head was pounding like the worst hangover you can imagine, my body felt like it had gotten ran over by a truck, and I had an annoying whooshing sound circulating in my ears.  Yep, definitely sick.

When I was a kid being sick was not that bad.  My only responsibilities were to lie in bed and rest until I no longer felt like my body had been abducted by aliens.  Isn't it funny how you can feel so completely fine one day, and then the next it's as if you've lost your will to live?  Okay, okay perhaps i'm being a tad dramatic!  Seriously though, I will be the first to admit i'm a huge baby when i'm sick. Injuries I can handle.  Illness, not so much.  I'm like the man with the "man cold" except i'm a woman so i'm not sure what they call that.  Oh yeah.  A cold.  

I wasn't any better when I was a child.  I can remember many crying fits and repeating, "I'm dying" more than i'll like to admit.  Yes, i'm a wimp when it comes to illness and it's no family secret.  My dad still likes to recount the stories of my dramatic childhood episodes and don't even ask my husband how much fun I am to deal with when i'm sick. 

My mom was the best doctor a child could ask for.  She wasn't really a doctor (elementary school teacher) but in my eyes she was pretty darn close to perfection! She would make a bed for me in front of the television and I would watch the Price is Right, followed by several hours of daytime soaps.  I had an endless supply of 7 Up, chicken noodle soup, and cold washcloths for my forehead at my disposal.   My mom would drop everything when I was sick.  I was her entire focus and i'll admit I loved it.   

Now things are a little different when i'm sick.  Here is a little rundown of my morning….

Woke up at 7 am, rolled out of bed, threw on my sweats.  Blew my nose until I thought my head was going to rupture.   Made 2 trips to 2 different schools to drop off my kids.  By this point I think I was on auto pilot as I don't really remember driving there or back.   Came home and all I could think about was curling up and going back to sleep.  I made a feeble attempt to take a quick little cat nap on the couch.  I turned on an obnoxiously annoying Disney Jr show for the boys, crawled up onto the couch, got all comfortable and started to close my eyes when I heard,  "Mooooooom. I want some cereal".  Trying to ignore the little voices in my head (perhaps I was dreaming and they weren't really there) I closed my eyes again and tried to drift off to sleep when the noise got louder.  "MOM.  I'M HUNGRY".  Sigh.  There was no way to ignore this one!  I threw the blanket off my legs, rolled myself off the couch and staggered into the kitchen.  By this point the whooshing sound in my ears were more like full blown ocean waves crashing against my head, my headache had turned into a piercing migraine and I had more snot running out of my nose than a daycare center in the middle of the winter! 

I poured the cereal as best as I could being as I could barely see out of my left eye.  I think half of it went into the bowl, the rest spilled out onto the counter and floor.  I set the cereal on the table, walked back over to the couch and figured I could steal a few minutes of sleep while the boys ate their cereal.  No such luck!  "Moooooom, I want some milk please".   Oh bloody hell!  He even said please! How can you ignore such a polite little request?   I staggered back into the kitchen.  Grabbed the milk out of the fridge.  It felt like a 100 lb cannonball at this point.  With a shaky arm I successfully poured the milk, set it on the table and crawled back onto the couch.    A few minutes later I hear, "Moooooom.  Peanut spilled his milk all over the floor".   By this point it was pretty darn clear that a nap, no matter how short, was not in the cards.  I popped some Tylenol, guzzled some caffeine, and gave myself my own version of a Rocky worthy pep talk, something along the lines of "You can do this".  

What I failed to mention about my mom is that she really was sick.  Legitimately sick with Non Hodgkins Lymphoma.  She is the one who should've been propped in front of the TV while we waited on her hand and foot and brought her chicken noodle soup.  But, I was a young child and I really had no comprehension of how ill she really was.  She never complained, never showed any signs of weakness, and certainly never said, "I'm dying" as um, yours truly over here has done in the past (hanging head in shame).   I honestly don't know how she did it?  I mean here I am complaining about a cold.  A silly little head cold, but yet my mom could still run an entire household, work a full time job, and care for two children with cancer?! 

So, this is a small tribute to my mom who passed away in July of 1996, just 2 days after her 50th birthday. She was my hero, my doctor, my cheerleader, my biggest supporter, and the reason i'm going to suck it up and deal with my cold like an adult.  Although if I had my way, you better believe i'd be picking up that phone and saying, "Mommy I need you".   And I know she would've been here in a heartbeat.

Sometimes if I close my eyes tight enough and drown out the whooshing sound in my ears, I think I can still hear traces of her soft, cheery, familiar voice in my ear whispering, "How are you feeling now sweetie?"

Guest Post: There is more to soccer than balls and scoring..

The people.  The people are everywhere, infiltrating every Saturday morning soccer game.  As I am fascinated by most people, some of these folks…..

Well you'll see….

The people of Saturday morning soccer...That piss me off 
Guest Post by Ashley at Sorry Kid, Your Mom Doesn't Play Well With Others 

This weekend I went to my neice's soccer game. It was interesting to say the least. There were the homeless chic parents, the in betweens and the Jwow/Snooki wanna be's. Was I shocked that the Jwow/Snooki small town re-mix parented the kid who dressed like a thug? Not at all. People, jeans and a jacket are good. Club ready make up, heels and a beehive hairstyle holding up your ponytail is not. I will laugh at you, out loud, and in your face.

There were the overachieving Grandparents who stood in your way to keep an extra eye on their six year old grandchild, which to me sounds bazaar because my 3 year old can effectively make his own oatmeal and climb a tree. The fact she had to open his juice box tells me this kid probably lacks the skills to wipe his own ass. I hope that kid is homeschooled. Or they provide a diaper changing service in kindergarten.

I didn't get to see much of the game because of the asshats talking in front of me. Seriously, uncomfortably making up an excuse to decline an invitation for an after-game bbq trumps my ability to watch my neice the next state over play soccer? Yes, asshole I am talking to you. I did get to see a goal, see the coach yell at my neice although all the other kids were doing the same thing- this made my blood boil, and my neice play her position aggressively by pushing a boy into the goal net for overstepping his welcome in her box. That my friends made it almost worth it...

Then there was Eli... and his jack-off parents. This kid was a pain in my ass. He was hitting shit against the bleachers. Stomping on the bleachers and yelling for no reason whatsoever. It was annoying as fuck. His parents over and over told him to get off the bleachers. In that entire hour, not once did they physically go get him to let him know that shit is just plain rude, or look him in the eye. I heard the name Eli so many god damn times, if one of my kids wanted a friend with the name of Eli I would block their number and move, just so I don't have to hear that damn name again. Toward the end I removed my sunglasses and gave him the mom look. Little shit got the point he was annoying and hid behind his lax dip-shit mommy. I feel like this is the only discipline the kid has ever had. A look and the kid whimpered and hid? He is 4 probably 5, has he never heard of a time out or toy jail? Kid is deprived.

I later learned that Eli has 4 siblings. Four. They are all bad and lack parental guidance. I have 5, my kids act like jackasses at home but they know they better be on their best behavior in public because Momma don't take nooo shit in public. I had bad kids a few times and it turned into them being embarrased as all get out because the lady who pointed out my parenting flaws got every flaw of her appearance and bitchy attitude pointed out loudly, over the cash register speaker in the grocery store. True story- I couldn't return to that Schnuck's good thing they moved to a different town, or I'd be screwed.

 I can't forget Shit for brains concession lady. I ordered hot chocolate and coffee. Shit for brains mad coffee 3 times, everytime they came out with grounds. Seeing that this lady had a Starcucks and a McCaffee cup she doesn't make coffee at home. I asked if she remembered the filter. By the look on her face and the meek "yeah", she infact was hired out of pity. And yes, they are paid workers not parent volunteers- I am glad I live the next state over.

I am excstatic that my sister-in-law and her hubby are amongst the normal ones. Even though her hubs wore church clothes to "coach the bench". To his defense he didn't know and he had somewhere else to go later. But hometown Jwow had no such excuse...

Sunday, September 23, 2012

Somebody Call 911 momma's about to kick this sea hag in the taco…whao! Opposite of a Soccer Mom Week 3

Let's see, where do I even begin?  This week was the dreaded snack week.  I've heard horror stories about snack week.  Everybody Loves Raymond even did an entire episode where Deborah gets lectured by some uptight soccer dad for bringing an unhealthy snack (it was a bag of pretzels I believe and a completely hilarious episode if you haven't seen it).  Raymond sneaks in a healthy snack at the next game to try and redeem themselves, without telling Deborah.  I could totally see my hubby trying to do something like this!

I should also mention that this is the first week that my husband and I actually sat through an entire game together.  These past 2 weeks, he's been going to watch my younger daughter play, and i've been going to my 13 year old's games.   So far their games have been inconveniently scheduled at the same time, but this week they were back to back so that meant double the fun!  You're not really buying that i'm enjoying this are you?

Anyways, we showed up to my 7 year old's game with our $20 some dollar snack tucked into a Trader Joe's bag.  It was a nice cover, considering it was really purchased at Winco, but we were trying to make a good impression.   As we found a spot to unfold our mother f@$king fold out chairs, my hubby and I began to bicker with each other.  He gets way too involved in these things and I should mention has turned into quite the uptight soccer dad himself (I really should dedicate one week to him).  He was griping with me about taking too long to unfold my chair, almost spilling my coffee, being too noisy, blah, blah, blah.  Here's the problem, he actually cares what these people think about us, whereas I honestly don't care.  Anyways right before we plopped down into our chairs he turns to me and says, "Make sure you blog about yourself in your next post because you're the worst one here".  Gee thanks honey!   As I sat down in my chair I carefully placed my mocha in the cup holder, covered myself up with my coat to keep warm, and dug my iphone out of my purse to get ready to catch up on Twitter when my hubby says, "The sun is in my eyes.  Let's move down the field".  Really?  So, up we go, re-packing up the mother f#$king fold out chairs, grabbing our gear and shuffling down the field in search of the perfect spot…grumble, grumble.

Apparently it's not acceptable to sit next to the opposing team member's families.  We were immediately greeted with snarly looks and grumbles as we butted our way into the line of obnoxious fold out chairs. Sitting to my right was an old grandma that I will refer to as "Sea Hag".   I will discuss more about her in a minute as she is the highlight (or train wreck) of this week's game.

I have to admit watching a bunch of 7-8 year old girls trying to play soccer is actually quite entertaining.  I mean good grief, it's like watching the Hunger Games except the contestants are are a bunch of blindfolded chimpanzees trying to fight for the last banana!  I even found myself giggling a couple of times as these little girls stumbled around the field like a bunch of college kids on a bender.   Some of them went the wrong direction on the field, some of them just stood there looking lost, some were twirling their hair (my daughter) or reciting their own version of Sean Kingston's "Somebody call 911. Shawty fire burning on the dance floor" in the middle of the field (yes my daughter again).  Oh and those flyaway balls!  Seriously, I almost got hit in the face more times than I can count! There were more balls flying through the air than a gay club on foam night!  By the way if you've never been to a gay club on foam night, you really must go! It's so much fun!

As i'm secretly beginning to enjoy this weeks soccer game and I have even set down the golden iphone (GASP), enter the Sea Hag!  I knew it was all too good to be true that I might actually make it through an entire game without drama.  Sea Hag was your typical snooty, well dressed grandma, who appeared to be fairly well off.  There she sat proudly displaying her adopted grandkids and talking non stop about what brilliant soccer players they were.  Honestly I don't know what ethnicity these kids were and it seriously doesn't matter one bit except for I found myself wanting to say, "Well no sh#t lady, they are blessed to not be blood related to you and your douchenozzle husband!"  Anyways, I was rolling my eyes and trying to drown out the Sea Hag when all of a sudden she made things personal.  Oh boy did she ever! The ball rolled right up to my daughter, and I should mention that my daughter has an anxiety disorder known as Selective Mutism so this is the first year she's been able to participate in sports because of her anxiety.  We are super proud that she will even go out onto the field, and seriously she's 7 and this is her first year playing soccer.  Who really gives a crap?  Well Sea Hag apparently does because she proceeded to yell out at the top of her lungs, "Oh my God!! What is number 26 doing?  Look at her just standing there!  WHAT ARE YOU DOING NUMBER 26?"  My momma bear instincts kicked in and I gave her the "You talk about my daughter again, i'm going to kick you in the taco" look.  My husband knowing exactly what's about to go down as i'm hardly the silent type quickly nudged me and said, "Babe DON'T".  Damnit, why did he have to come with me this week?  

I'm sitting there silently plotting my revenge when Sea Hag loudly announces, "Sadie is done playing.  We can leave now.  There is nothing worth watching here".   The game wasn't even over but apparently her precious granddaughter was done for the game and that meant it was time for them to go.  Good riddance!  I continued to give them the stink eye while they packed up their crap.   As the game neared the final quarter my hubby announces (in a much too excited tone I might add), "I need to go get ready for snack".  To which I replied, "Babe, there is still like 15 minutes left".   "Yeah, but I need to get prepared" J answers.   I rolled my eyes and told him to go for it.  I mean it's granola bars, Gogurts, and dysfunctional juice boxes for Pete's sake!  What is there to prepare?

The game ended, we lost by one stinking goal, and I rolled my eyes at all the parents on the opposing team who were saying things like, "Losers", "Haha we beat them", "Our kids are the best".  Seriously?  These kids are freaking 7!!!! Apparently douchenozzleness is contagious in these parts!

They got up to do the tunnel.  No, I did not participate, but I did manage to snap a pic!

(Check out McSexy in his fold out chair! It was so hard to keep my hands off!) 

My daughter watching her big sister's game.  I like to call this her Flavor Flav!
Have I mentioned my kids are awesome?! 

In case you missed it, here's week one of my series:

And week two:

Thursday, September 20, 2012

This recipe is so ridiculously easy, even I can do it!

If you've read through my blog then you know that I am a complete and total moron in the kitchen.  Baking is not my thing and I almost always find a way to screw up even the easiest of recipes.  Boxed mixes?  Yeah I can screw those up like nobody's business!

About a year ago one of my good friends who has Celiac's shared a gluten free peanut butter cookie recipe with me.  I had recently been tested for gluten allergies and my test came back positive for gliadin (a protein found in gluten).  I begrudgingly started my gluten free diet but I was dying for some sweets and the gluten free cookies in the store were nasty and extremely overpriced.  No thanks! I can eat cardboard for free!

My friend emailed me and said, "I have the perfect recipe for you. It's called the 3 ingredient peanut butter cookie recipe….and it's super easy".   Now I must mention here that my friend did not invent this recipe.  She found it on and it's a pretty popular recipe:

I changed it up just a teeny little bit though as I use Crisco instead of parchment paper but it's up to you.

Here is what you will need:

1 cup of peanut butter
1 cup of white sugar
1 egg
Parchment paper or Crisco

Mix the 3 ingredients together and then lightly grease your cookie sheet with Crisco.  Then place the cookie balls on the sheet.   Take a fork and slightly flatten them and then make a criss cross pattern.

See, it's so easy even a 7 year old can do it! 
Ignore my ghetto fabulous cookie sheets!  
I don't invest much in bakeware since I hate to bake. 

Bake at 350 degrees (on the top rack) for approx 6-8 minutes. Mine are usually done by 7 minutes. Do not overcook these!  They will not taste very good and you will be pissed off that you wasted so much peanut butter since it does take quite a bit.  Seriously 6-7 minutes is usually all you need, and they should never take more than 8 minutes!   Then let the cookies cool before removing from the sheet or you'll have a big old crumbled mess (yes, I learned this the hard way the first time I made these and got anxious and tried to pry them off the sheet too fast).

This recipe makes about a dozen and a half cookies so I end up making 2 full batches because a dozen and a half cookies is NOT enough for a family of 7!  So my advice would be to double the recipe above.

These are the best peanut butter cookies you will ever eat and I love them so much that I can no longer eat peanut butter cookies from other places because they just don't compare and I find myself wanting to say, "My peanut butter cookies are better than yours".

So there you go!  A recipe so easy that even *I* can do it!!!!!  So you know it's gotta be easy right?! 

Wednesday, September 19, 2012

Oh Peanut…..

You're the one who reminds me to take my birth control each and every day, 
the reason for poison control on the front page of my iphone display, 
the reason we keep anything dangerous under lock and key,
the reason I sometimes break down and say, "Really? Why me?"

The reason the squirrels run and scamper, 
you find new uses out of our laundry hampers.

The reason i'm frightened when it's silent and ask "Where is Peanut?" 
and then cry and shake when I see the walls and say, "Oh NO, he didn't!" 

Soon you'll be turning three, 
I give you my desperate mommy plea, 
Please slow down and be careful,  
for life with you dear Peanut can be stressful. 

You're sneaky and tiny and quiet as a mouse, 
and the reason we never have any peanut butter left in the house! 

Mmmmm peanut butter! 
Want some mommy? 

All things said and done, 
we love you 
our wild, precious and beautiful son! 

Sunday, September 16, 2012

I like hobbits

My childhood crush was 

Sean Astin

 My room was covered with your posters from the door to the floor….

I didn't realize you would only turn out to be 5 ft 4. 

My love for you is no more.

Ketchup With Us

Tell us in 57 words or less about your biggest celebrity crush from childhood. Or, you know, now. Either way.

What's the opposite of a soccer mom? ME!!!! Week 2

Picture this: I'm lying in my warm, comfy bed. I'm finally sleeping after having a nearly restless night with a two year old who doesn't understand that he's a human and not a hamster so this nocturnal crap is getting really old, when i'm woken up by a horrific sound, "Babe, get up. It's time for the soccer game".   Noooooo, not soccer! Anything but soccer!  Why couldn't I have woken up with explosive diarrhea, a rapidly spreading fungal skin rash, or heck, even the clap would do!

Still completely half asleep and feeling like I got drugged with a ruffie the night before, I dropped my 13 year old off at the field so she could warm up and I drove to a nearby coffee stand to get a mocha. I seriously want to punch the people in the face who schedule these games at the butt crack of dawn.  Hello, it's Saturday people! I just want to sleep! I don't want to trek through soaking wet grass that hasn't dried yet and sit in the freezing morning air and most of all put on a bra before 2 pm on the weekend!  While at the coffee stand I briefly considered begging the barista to add a shot a vodka in my mocha but since some people don't have a sense of humor, I restrained myself. However, now i'm mulling over the idea of opening up an alcoholic beverage-coffee stand.  I think it would get a ton of business and can you imagine the tips you would get?!  Hey, they make a chain of bikini coffee stands for perverted men who apparently aren't capable of ordering a coffee without needing to look at young girls wearing skimpy bikinis with their tits hanging out, but yet we moms get nothing?  Where's my "organized sports suck, i'm exhausted, overworked and underpaid, PMSing and bloated like a Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade float, my husband woke up on the wrong side of the bed today and is being a total butthole but spousal homicide is seriously frowned upon in our society, my teenagers are working really hard to shave some years off my life, my toddler is a nocturnal hamster who doesn't sleep, my 4.5 y/o just graffitied every room in our house with crayons, and what I really need is a shot of vodka instead of espresso, or a margarita on the rocks in a coffee cup and please hold the straw because I plan on slamming that drink" stand?!   And please i'm just kidding here people. I realize drinking and driving is wrong so forget the drive thru coffee stand! I'll deliver!

So, we pull up to the high school and what do my eyes see?  A freaking camper trailer parked on the open grassy field.  In front of the trailer is an entire family of mother f@cking fold out chairs (with soccer ball print on the fabric I might add), lined up in a row in front of the camper.  What's even more heinous is the chairs were arranged from biggest to smallest, as in Goldilocks and the 3 Dumbasses.  Wow.  I could not believe my eyes.  I tried to take a picture of the crime scene so I could share it with my fabulous followers but my husband (AKA spoiler of all things fun in this world) grabbed my iphone out of my hands and said, "Babe, our kids go to school with these people and you want to put a picture of them on your blog. Are you crazy?"  Is he kidding?  These douchenozzles load up their camper trailer to drive to a game that's probably no further than 5 miles away from their house and i'm the crazy one?  I think not! 

I made my way down to the field, and rolled my eyes at the sea of nauseating fold out chairs and wouldn't you know that the one and only open spot on the entire sideline was conveniently located next to the canopy dad.  Perfect.  I fumbled with my mother f@cking folding chair and may have even kicked it a couple of times.  It's not very easy to unfold a chair while holding a steaming hot mocha in one hand.  I plop down into my chair,  pick up my mocha to take a drink when I hear, "GOOOOO GREEN.  GET DOWN THE FIELD" blasting in my ear canal.  Shit, nothing like spilling some hot coffee down your shirt. Thanks canopy dad for scaring the holy bejeezus out of me.  However, I did thoroughly enjoy when just a few moments later his daughter turned around and said, "Shhhhhh.  Shut up and watch the game dad".   Unfortunately that didn't stop canopy dad from screaming, but i'm not sure there is anything that could shut this man up other than perhaps some industrial strength duct tape…..hmmmmm. 

So i'm zoning out in my chair, freezing my butt off, with soaking wet feet, thinking, "Well, there's not going to be much to write about today", when suddenly the "muscle car dad" suddenly enters the picture.  Ewwww. He immediately strikes up a fascinating conversation with canopy dad about his lengthy career in the tire business, and shared some infinite wisdom such as, "Yeah did you know if you steal, you get fired over there? They are hardcore man. They will straight up fire your ass for stealing. It's bullshit"  Wow, say it isn't so? A job that actually fires people because they steal? What a bunch of insensitive a@@holes!   The best part of the conversation though was when muscle car dad started bashing on his wife about how she doesn't let him buy anything to fix up his old cars anymore.  Gee, I wonder why?  Perhaps because she is tired of supporting your underemployed, pot bellied, your Joe Boxers are sticking out of your shorts and you don't even notice, a@@!!!!  I also got to hear an entire conversation about the ins and out of trannies, but unfortunately they weren't talking about the good kind of trannies….sigh.  If they had been talking about high heels, wigs, and all things fabulous, I just might have actually branched out and joined in a conversation.

In case you missed the first post in my anti soccer mom series here it is:

Friday, September 14, 2012

I have no excuses

except to say that i'm so sorry it took me so long to post about receiving the Liebster Award! Yes, I could come up with some lamo excuse about how I have 5 kids and i'm busy and blah, blah, blah, but judging by the amount of time I spend on Twitter and Facebook, my friends will call BS on that one! So, i'm apologizing now for my lack of courtesy because I honestly am thrilled that some of you think i'm even worthy enough to receive this! I know i'm probably committing another cardinal sin by mentioning everyone that has given me one all on one post, but do you really want 3 almost identical blog posts hogging up your blog feed? I didn't think so :)    So here goes! (and I really hope i'm doing this right).

First off i'd like to give a big thank you to Happy Little Feet because she's the first blogger who gave me this awesome award! 
You can find her here:

I'd also like to thank these two awesome bloggers. If you haven't checked out these wonderful ladies  please do because you will love them: 

Karen @ Baking in a Tornado

The Rules:
1.      Each person must post 11 things about themselves.
2.      Answer the 11 questions the person giving the award has set for you.
3.      Create 11 questions for the people you will be giving the award to.
4.      Choose 11 people to award and send them a link to your post.  Go to their page and tell them.
5.      No tag backs.

11 Facts about me: 

1. I love the Roseanne show and have watched every single episode probably hundreds of times. 

2. I love Dutch Bros Coffee. I always get the white chocolate caramel mocha. No Starbucks for this gal! 

3. I suck at math.  I mean really suck! I still count basic math on my hands. Thank goodness for the calculator on my iphone! 

4. I was a gymnast when I was a child. No, not a really good one, but I did compete in the lower levels. 

5. I love 80's music and techno. My favorite bands are Depeche Mode and M83. 

6. I'm afraid of dogs. Completely, totally terrified. We were a cat family growing up, and always had at least 5 cats at a time. I know it explains a lot about my weirdness right? 

7. I have a chronic health condition called Interstitial Cystitis. 

8. I'm a Diet Coke fanatic. I like Diet Pepsi too, but Diet Coke is my fave. 

9. I love chick flicks. Steel Magnolias is my favorite movie, along with Fried Green Tomatoes. You will find random quotes from both movies in my blog from time to time. 

10. I'm afraid of the dark. 

11. I hate scary movies

Questions that were asked to me: 

1)What is your favourite moment of your life?
Holding my first born child just moments after he was born. 

2) What is the best part of your day?
When my kids are asleep. Wait, i'm probably not supposed to say that right? 

3) How many times a day do you look at your blog?
Too many to count! A lot! 

4) Coffee or tea?
Coffee. I'm not a fan of tea. 

5) Where would you go on vacation if you could go anywhere?
Kauai. It's our favorite vacation spot! 

6) How long have you been blogging?
Well, off and on for several years. I have a couple of private blogs about my kids and their special needs. Life on Peanut Layne has really only been active since late July of 2012. This blog actually used to be about my son Peanut, but I re-birthed it into a humor blog and moved his posts to a private blog. 

7) What is the worst part of blogging?
When you experience writer's block or your post is just not progressing the way you want it too. 

8) Favourite snack food?
Junior Mints! 

9) Favourite song?
Judas by Depeche Mode. I actually walked down the aisle to this song :)

10) Are you on twitter?
Yep, sure am! You can find me here: 

11) Do you know how to use twitter?
Not very well, but i'm slowly figuring it out.  There are still many things I don't understand. 

11 Bloggers i'm passing the Liebster Award too are….

I'm Just Sayin'…(Damn!)    Our Everyday Adventures   Little Loves  My Life, as a Mommy & Wife

Painful Spaghetti  Daily Messes  If You've Seen My Mind I'd Love It Back  Stroller Parking Only

11 Questions to ask them….

1. Do you have any phobias?

2. What's your favorite season?

3. What is the inspiration behind your blog title?

4. Where is your favorite place to shop?

5. What's your favorite food?

6. Do you have a favorite room or spot in your house?

7. Do you have a favorite quote?

8. What made you decide to start blogging?

9. Do you have a Facebook page for your blog?

10. Do you have any bad habits?

11. What is your dream job or career?

Wednesday, September 12, 2012

Grocery Store Offenders

There is nothing on this earth I hate more than grocery shopping.  Okay I take that back. The Kardashians really piss me off for some unknown reason and no, I don't watch their crappy show.  I would rather watch Fred the Movie in Dolby Surround Sound while strapped to a dentist's chair.  Like any good procrastinator I will put off my shopping until the absolute last minute, when the husband calls and asks me what's for dinner and my response is, "Um, well, we could have some instant mashed potatoes with grape jelly".  Yeah.  Since that doesn't go over well with the hubby it's off to the store I begrudgingly go.  Oh and I must add here that I rarely ever take my children with me.  I have teens and they owe me for being their usual charming selves and that includes occasionally watching their younger siblings.   If I did temporarily lose my mind and decide to take the younger kids, I would be stuck at the store for 3 hours instead of 2, and I would most likely come home with a lifetime supply of Spongebob shaped fruit snacks, Ding Dongs, a jumbo sized bag of water balloons, and 10 gallons of ice cream in every f@cking flavor of the rainbow because the kids couldn't agree on just one (or even two).

To really put the icing on the cake, our closest and cheapest grocery store is Winco.  If you're not familiar with Winco, then you are one lucky mother!   Winco is pretty gross (groat as our 2 year old says for gross).  It's the Walmart of the grocery world.  It doesn't take long to figure out exactly why Winco sucks as bad as it does.   As you make your way across the parking lot, you'll step over some sleeping bums napping outside of the entrance and right into the cart pit.  Now I don't know if there is a correct term for the room that holds the shopping carts but i'm going to call it the pit because it seriously is one.   These carts are older than dirt, filthy, no plastic handle cover on the handlebar so you're basically holding onto exposed metal, no seat belt straps and even if they did have straps you would be a brave soul to touch one of them with your bare hands let alone touch your child's skin (another excuse to leave your kid home), and not a single freaking one of them actually works properly!    I would be willing to bet that these carts were the rejects that ended up in the grocery cart junkyard and the executive at Winco was like, "Great you'll give me all of these for $10?  It's a deal!"

Once you make your way out of the pit, the inside isn't much better.  The people of Winco are an experience of their own.   No, not everyone who shops at Winco is a mutant, and if you're reading this post then you are most likely exempt because A) You own a computer or smart phone and can access the internet. B) You can read.  C) You know what a blog is.

These are the main type of Winco offenders that really irritate me the most.  And no it's not a big list as i'm not that big of a bitch:

*The Pajama Couture Crowd:   If this is the one and only outfit you own, perhaps you should stay home and figure out what went wrong in your life:

*The Cock Blockers of the Aisle: You turn down an aisle and you see someone with their cart strategically placed right smack in the middle of the aisle.  You wait patiently for a minute and maybe even give an awkward smile and say "Excuse me".  However, the cock blocker of the aisle doesn't respond and continues to flat out ignore you.  After the 2nd or even sometimes 3rd "excuse me" if the jackwagon still refuses to move I decide it's time to play bumper carts and I will just ram your cart out of the way. I just don't have the time or the patience for this level of doucheness.

*The Deli Counter Creep: You're standing at the counter for what feels like an eternity when the grumpy, disgruntled "I really hate this job" deli employee finally appears from the back (what they do back there I don't even want to know considering they handle my meat).   You're just about to open your mouth to order when some creep walks up from behind you and says, "Yeah i'll take……"   I don't tolerate this type of behavior very well, and have been known to put this kind of offender in his (or her) place quickly.  My ranting typically resolves the problem and I get waited on first, but if not then watch out because I will hunt you down and accidentally ram the back of your leg with my cart for being a douchenozzle. Towanda!

*The Check Writer:  I feel a little bad including this one because I do respect my elders (unless they are driving and then i'm scared shitless). I get that sometimes you have to write checks (I do too for a couple of things), but do you really need to write a check at the flipping grocery store?   As if the line isn't long and slow enough at this horrible store now I get to wait for grandma to dig through her rabbit hat of a purse to find her check book and then proceed to ask the check out person every single question known to man like "What store am I in again dear?", "What year is this?", "What's my name?" By this point i'm scanning through the Tic Tac display to see if the makers of Xanax have finally wised up and are selling their product over the counter.

*The Beer Guy: I don't know why I threw this one in here but there's something about a guy standing in line wearing running shorts, a tank top & tennis shoes and holding a case of beer under his arm that just irritates me.

And this reminds me.  I need to go grocery shopping tonight…sigh.


Sunday, September 9, 2012

What's the opposite of a soccer mom? ME!!!!

Why I find some (notice I didn't say all) soccer parents repulsive: 

The mother f@#king fold out chair.  Everyone has one.  I repeat. EVERYONE has one.  If you don't have one, then you are a loser of epic proportions according to the laws of a soccer parent.   When I arrived at the field yesterday, my eyes immediately focused on the nauseating sea of multi colored fold out chairs, lined around the field.  And here's a little tip for virgin soccer moms like myself, do yourself a favor and figure out how to use these mother f@#king chairs before the game, so you're not stuck fumbling around with the bag like an amateur and getting those "she must be a first timer" looks.   I just might have said a few bad words under my breath as I tried to dig the damn thing out of the bag.  

To the clueless dad who walked up to me and asked me the game score, this really makes me snort. Out of all the gung ho soccer parents to ask, it cracks me up that you walked up to the one and only chick knee deep in her iphone to find out the score.  Iphone addicts typically make lousy scorekeepers.  However, do feel free to ask me what my current Twitter follower count is, or the URL to my blog.  These are questions I can and will happily answer.  

To the chick sitting on my left with 3 kids, please stop trying to get my attention by being annoying.  Do you really need to repeat every single f#@king thing your kid says and then look around for confirmation?   I heard your whiny ass kid the first time.  I was choosing to ignore him.  If I didn't give you or your kid attention after the 10th obnoxiously irritating thing that you said, it's probably not going to happen within this lifetime so please give it up already and just stop talking. And, please for God sakes!  Pop an allergy pill in that kid's mouth before the next game!  Your kid walked right up to me and sneezed all over me and you said nothing, but yet you couldn't seem to shut your mouth prior to the sneeze heard around the world.  There's a reason most of my friends live inside the computer.  I was a shy child, a shy teen, and someday i'll be the shy dinosaur at the bridge table in the old folks home with no friends.  It's how I roll.  And no, I will never ever be interested in joining your monthly bunco club…shudder.  

To the douchenozzley dad sitting to my right (in a fold out chair with a canopy I might add). If you are trying to break the world record for who can scream the loudest, congrats you just won!  But please don't ask me, "I'm not bothering you, am I?" because my answer will be, "Yes, actually you are".   And, judging by the looks your daughter was giving you from the field, I think it's safe to say that she wasn't really amused by you either. 

The tunnel.  Oh the tunnel.  There is no way in hell that i'm clasping hands with a total stranger to form a makeshift tunnel at the end of the game.  And FYI, I saw the guy in the red fold out chair picking his nose earlier.  Have fun with that.  You can find me over on the sidelines kicking my fold out chair to death and then trying to stuff the remains back in the bag. 

Soccer season just started yesterday.  I think this needs to be a weekly thread.  

Friday, September 7, 2012

Take it like a…hmmm, not a man!

I broke my pinky toe today. Which isn't really funny, except for the circumstance surrounding the break is actually a little funny (or maybe pathetic is a more appropriate word).   I was actually jumping up off the couch to go fix a broken link that I had posted earlier on Twitter, but I suck at doing important tasks on my iphone.   So, I hopped off the couch like my ass was on fire because we all know that Twitter business is urgent and must be taken care of ASAP, but my pinky toe got caught on one of Peanut's teeny tiny little Adidas tennis shoes and SNAP! There went the toe.  I know it's broken.  It's shiny, stiff, and an odd shade of purplish/black.  It's a good thing summer is over as it's not exactly looking very flip flop friendly at the moment.

Sadly this isn't the first toe i've broken from tripping over kids' crap.   Several years ago I was trying to reach something off the top shelf of my oldest son's closet and I thought that using his Little Tikes shopping cart would make an excellent step stool.  Not even 5 seconds later I was on the ground, holding my foot and screaming a string of obscenities that I wont repeat here because I don't tolerate that type of language on my blog.  (That was a test to see who is really reading this and how well you know me, heehee).  

Anyways, the last time I broke a toe the doctor didn't do anything for the toe at all and it ended up just being a waste of a co-payment, so today I decided to suck it up and take it like a….wait I refuse to say man here because i'm married to one and I know his threshold for pain is like a zero on the Richter scale (yes, I know Richter scales are for earthquakes and not pain but whatever).  If it had been him who had the broken toe, he would've rolled around on the ground for an hour, ranting about how much pain he was in, complete with, "You don't understand how bad this hurts. You've never been in this much pain before".  Yeah, you're right! I don't know what pain is!  I guess those 8 lb babies I pushed out of my loins w/out any drugs were the equivalent of taking a nice, relaxing Hawaiian vacation! Silly me!   Then I would have the pleasure of waiting on him hand and foot while he laid on the couch being a royal pain in my ass until he was "healed".  

To further prove my point my husband was mortified by my decision to not go to the doctor. He keeps sending me texts from work saying, "I really think you should go to the doctor".  Yeah, yeah, yeah.   He even ended up coming home in the middle of the day because he "forgot something" but I think he really just wanted to spy on me.  I hate it when my husband makes unannounced daytime visits. I feel like the nanny who got caught on the nanny cam masturbating with the child's Pillow Pet while the children are watching Family Guy in the other room. Busted! My husband gave me that disapproving, "I know you haven't done shit today" look.  Gee, I don't know what could've given that away as I looked around at the piles of unwashed laundry exploding from our laundry room or the uneaten sandwich crusts still strewn all over the table from lunch or a wide open freezer door from one of Peanut's hit and run attacks on our fridge….sigh.

Right before he went back to work he insisted that I get off of my feet and lie down on the couch and put an ice pack on my foot.  That lasted a whopping 5 minutes until my 4 y/o came running up to me and said, "Mom, come see what Peanut's doing".  Yeah, that never ever ends well!   So, I decided to get up and see what the damage was and I see Peanut crouched over on the counter like a raccoon eating dried up rice cereal that he had dumped out all over the counter, and he had a carton of raw EGGS sitting next to him! Holy hell! If I had waited just a minute longer my counter top (no, scratch that. My entire kitchen) would've become one Peanut sized omelette.   This is why moms have no choice but to be tough as nails when they are sick or injured.  Who else is going to do this shit? 

Thursday, September 6, 2012

icrack, camels, and maxi pads? Oh my.

I'm having one of those days where I can't even form a complete sentence, let alone type one out.  I have 4-5 different blog posts started on my iphone note pad right now, but I just can't seem to make any of them work today.  Honestly i'm doing you a huge favor by not posting any of them.  They are painfully bad.  As in trying to rip an upside down maxi pad off an unshaven vagina bad.  So, what do you do when you are too tired and dysfunctional to write a complete blog post?  You write a blog post about your inability to blog, lol!

School started this week which means absolutely no freaking sleep for me.   I drive 3 kids to 3 different schools so my day starts at 7 am (okay more like 7:30).  Since I don't actually have to get out of my car to drop off my 8th and 10th graders, I literally drop them off in my pj's, no bra, and hot mess hair. Hmmm, perhaps I should be walking them inside, lol!  I know what you're thinking right about now,  "Seriously? This bitch gets to sleep in until 7:30 and thinks she has it bad?"   Well, that would be the case, if I didn't have a little thing called insomnia at night. I blame many things on this….Twitter, Facebook, the iphone (which should be renamed icrack because once you touch it you can't put it down), my 2 year old who frequently wakes up throughout the night, a husband who pesters me for sex the very second the kids fall asleep.   Speaking of this, I just wanted to let you men know that reverse psychology seldom works on a 34 year old woman.  I know you're trying to be sly when you say, "It's okay baby.  I know you're tired.  We don't have to do it tonight".  I can tell by the look on your face when I respond back with, "Okay, well i'm going to bed then", that it didn't quite turn out the way you expected, did it?

Really, that's all I got for you today.  I'm just having one of those blah blogging days where I try to be creative and funny but the only thoughts running through my head are, "Wow, i'm so tired that i'm actually seeing spots. Neat" or "I'm pretty damn sure Peanut has a crappy diaper because the entire house reeks like poop (his diapers could knock over a camel), but i'm going to pretend that I can't smell it for just a minute longer".

Wednesday, September 5, 2012

Blogger Idol 2012…Sign Me Up!

As if my life isn't crazy enough, I just submitted my audition online for the 2012 Blogger Idol contest.  You can find out more about this awesome contest here:

The grand prize for this contest is a Samsung Galaxy Tab 2 (my Apple/Mac only loving hubby would never let me hear the end of this one, lol).   The winner will also receive a $150 voucher to Blog2Print where you can turn your blog into a book (so cool).

First runner up will get a Ghiradelli Chocolate gift basket which I would seriously have to hide in a safe from my husband and children, and a Dragon Naturally Speaking Premium Edition which converts your spoken words into text on the screen.   I seriously need this one! Also included is Newman's Own Organics.

Second runner up will receive a variety of DaVinci Gourmet syrups valued at $75.  My hubby would love these!  Also included is (2) 8 oz Sogno Coffee Company bags.  Who doesn't love coffee?  And finally a $50 Amazon gift certificate, which would probably get jacked by my hubby or kids, but it would still be awesome to receive.

Third runner up will win Healthy To Go snacks and a prize package from Snack Taxi.

Fourth runner up will receive a gift code from Small Concept and Tyler's Coffee.

Fifth runner up will receive GiantMicrobes (a plush toy, not an actual germ, lol), and Boogie Wipes, which would come in handy for any parent with babies, toddlers, or older kids who just cannot grasp the concept of how to properly wipe/blow your nose.

If you would like to enter the contest click on the Try Out tab and follow the directions (it's so easy even I was able to figure it out).

I hope you will please follow me on Twitter and Facebook!  Thank you for your support! 

When i'm old…okay older

My kids have been driving me to the brink of insanity lately.  This got me to thinking…..I can't wait to be a pain in my children's asses someday!  Every single one of them!

This is my plan of attack:

*I'm going to call them at 5:30 am every single Saturday for all the times they've woken me up at the butt crack of dawn on the weekends.  I may even do some accidental "butt dialing" in the middle of the night for shits & giggles.

*I'm going to somehow manage to spill some type of beverage on their brand new couch (or perhaps draw on their freshly painted walls).  Their future kids will be getting the large, multi colored Sharpie packs for Christmas from dear old grandma.  Payback's a bitch kids!

*I will make sure and stay with them while I have the stomach flu at some point in my old ass life.  Yes, mark my words, my children will be cleaning up MY puke (or pee if i'm really old) covered sheets at least once.

*I will buy their children the loudest most obnoxious toys I can possibly find and they wont be permitted to bring them to granny's house.   Oh and this goes for messy and almost impossible to clean up too!  They will be getting mega sized buckets full of Playmobil, Lego's (the small kind), puzzles with thousands of pieces, etc.   Playdoh will be a frequent gift, or if i'm really feeling feisty, FLOAM! Seriously, I don't know if any of you have been lucky enough to receive this awful, sticky, crap as a gift (or maybe you innocently bought it thinking it looked like fun), but the first time we opened up the package, it ooozed out all over onto our carpet and stained every piece of clothing and carpeting it touched.  I angrily threw it away and then said, "Which kid gave you that damn Floam for your birthday because they are never coming over again!"

*I will ask, "Are we there yet?"several hundred times or just randomly scream at the top of my lungs while riding in the car with them (perhaps i'll even chuck a shoe at their heads from the backseat while driving).  I can catch a flying shoe with one hand while still maintaining excellent eye contact on the road.  I've got skills.

*I will make sure to smear some peanut butter all over my hands and then give them a big hug while they are wearing brand new clothes (preferably black).

*I will jump and down screaming and crying while flailing my arms like a maniac while they are on an important phone call and then look at them like, "What?" when they get off the phone.  Oh yeah.

*I will yell, "Come wipe my butt" from the bathroom….Okay, no I wont, but damn this one is tempting!  Will someone please reassure me that I won't be wiping butts until the day I die?

*I will take a bath at their house and then leave water all over the floor (along with my dirty clothes and towel still lying on the ground).

*When (or if) my children ever invite me over to their house for dinner, I will wait until they have just sat down to eat and say, "Will you please get me something to drink?" (notice how I threw please in there to make it seem sincere?) Then when they hand me a glass I will say, "I didn't want this glass.  This one has red stripes on it.  I want the one with blue stripes" and I will throw a fit until they dump the liquid out of the red stripe glass and into the blue.   Then when they finally do get a chance to sit down and eat, I will ask them to get me random things, just to make sure that their food is completely stone cold before they get to take the first bite.

If I think of any others I will come back and add to the list.  

Okay, just thought of another one as i'm frantically searching through the house for my iphone….

*I will take their cell phone and find the most impossible, ridiculous hiding spot.  Perhaps the bottom of a toy box, the freezer (yes, this happened once), sandbox, etc.  Heck, maybe i'll even bury it in the backyard!  Oh and note to Peanut, you're getting your phone thrown in the toilet at least once!