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As Yoda Would Say… Soccer Mom, I Am Not


Okay, Yoda never said anything like that but if he had to use his car as a free taxi service and shuffle his kids around from activity to activity while they whined about being hungry, tired, mad about being rushed out of the door because they’re moving as slooow as slugs, etc., he’d be over that shit pretty quick.

Let me just start by saying, my 6 year-old hummingbird has a natural athletic ability that leaves me so proud and in absolute awe. Like I tell others, she may be small but my girl has spunk.

And yes, while I can say no to her doing an extracurricular activity, it can sneak up on me and before I know it, she’s involved in a buttload of things.

I’m all for the other activities she does… except soccer. For some reason, it makes me irrationally stabby. I’m fine with her gymnastics class, especially after being rid of the Type A mom master, and I love her ice skating classes. It doesn’t hurt that her dad usually takes her to ice skating while I’m snoozing in my warm and cozy bed. But, just like last year, I dread being a “soccer mom”.

Don’t get me wrong, I love seeing my little girl kick some ass on the field. I just find it much more pleasant watching her play soccer in our backyard. She’s more confident about being on a soccer team this year which is awesome and helps soothe my nerves since I don’t have to drag her kicking and screaming to her soccer games. I just find myself being the one who gets whiny when it comes to going to soccer practice and games this time around.

I don’t want to sit my ass out in the hot sun… soon to be the freezing cold and rain and snow… for an hour. I don’t want to be outside when I can be lounging on my couch on a Saturday morning, reading my mindless and very welcome US Weekly without pants and a bra. I don’t want to sign up for snack duty and feed 10 kids instead of just my own.

What’s up with that anyway? When I participated in sports as a kid, I felt like I won the snack lottery from saving my allowance and scoring a hot dog at the snack shack at the little league baseball field. Even a cup of cold water from a thermos that my coach brought along made me feel like I struck gold.

So, in other words, BAH-FUCKING-HUMBUG, soccer!

Who knows, maybe the little hummingbird won’t want to bother with soccer next year. One can hope. In the meantime, I will start pinning plenty of varieties of spiked hot chocolate to possibly take along with me to upcoming soccer games.

That’s what I call getting into the spirit of the game. Yeah, such a bad pun. Ahem, I’ll see myself out.


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The Likeness Is Uncanny

Well, look at that! Donald Trump is on the cover.


I already shared this fabulous photo of the misogynistic pig on my FB page, but couldn’t resist posting it here.

And if you need some brain bleach, here you go…

*The hummingbird and I can’t get enough of this song.

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Purrell Force Fields Would Really Come In Handy

Just when I felt like my writing mojo was finally coming back, time hasn’t been on my side. FYI, this post isn’t for sensitive stomachs.

The hummingbird has gotten sick countless times since she started Kindergarten. It’s one of the germiest places, apparently.

My 6 year-old has a few weeks left of school but has gotten two different ailments in the past two weeks. Last weekend, she had a stomach bug. I felt like I won the not very pukey child award prior to this since she hasn’t been much of a thrower upper. That’s a word.

Sure, she’s done it every now and then but nothing too bad.

Until last week.

After catching vomit in various ways… cupping hands, getting a giant bowl, grabbing her and sprinting to the bathroom, etc… I feel like I should get a barf badge to sew on my Brownie sash from when I was in the 4th grade.

Better yet, all new parents should be given a sash so we can receive badges for the milestones we go through with our children.

Pumping breast milk and accidentally spilling that precious liquid gold? There’s a badge for that.


Potty training your child? There’s a badge for that.


Surviving Toddler PMS without going through with your plans of running away from home? Get out the sewing kit… because there’s a badge for that.


My husband ran and got a bowl. A tiny, little bowl that would be more suitable for a kitten with a hairball. He must have noticed my death stare because he said “What?”

And then we had a conversation I never thought we’d have. The conversation about what bowl would be best for Little Miss Pukey.

My husband’s side of it was any bowl is suitable and he had grabbed a bowl which he uses to take his lunch to work sometimes. Gag. But my side was the bigger the bowl, the better to catch any and all kinds of puke. And it would need to be a bowl we would never, ever, ever use again. But, it would be put in the medicine and towel closet and forever be known as the puke bowl.

I can’t believe we discussed this either.

These are only stunt bowls but the size I grabbed is on the left. My husband’s is on the right.


So, I carried this bowl around wherever the hummingbird went for the next few days while she was home from school. At least it was better than using my hands or having vomit all over my shirt.

The bird was finally feeling better and finished out the school week. Yay!

And then she got sick again. Fuuuck. Of course it was on a weekend.

Her pediatrician has walk ins during the week for only half an hour at the ass crack of dawn. So, off we went. Things seemed to be looking up and then her doctor did a test.

A few minutes later, it came back positive for step throat. Fuckity fuck.

Poor kid.

After the pukefest and strep and all the school she’s missed this year, we can kiss that perfect attendance award goodbye. But really, how in the hell do some kids never miss one day of school from Kindergarten to their Senior year?

Are they surround by some protective barrier we can’t see? A Purrell force field perhaps.

I should start working on that before the hummingbird starts first grade. Wrap her in bubble wrap to prevent bumps, bruises, and scratches, put her in a hazmat suit with a built-in alarm system, and have a Purrell force field follow her everywhere she goes.

Then, I may not be so freaking anxious whenever she’s not in my care.

Who am I kidding? I’ll always be that way.

What kind of parenting badges would you like to receive?

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An In-Law Visit: Your Ass Will Need A Nap After This

Hola! I’ve been taking a break from my blog for a bit but I’m baaaack. So, my in-laws recently came to visit for 5 days. 5 fucking days of hell. I’m so very jealous of people who have such nice in-laws and get along so well with them.

Can we please trade? No? I don’t blame you.

After a lot of time goes by from their visit, I think “Well, maybe they aren’t so bad after all.” But when they come back to visit, I think yes, yes they sure as hell are!

My mother-in-law, as usual, gave me plenty of her quips and witchy ways and I still don’t get what’s up her ass to be like that towards me.

Example: At breakfast one morning, we had pancakes. I asked the little hummingbird if she’d like syrup on them since she usually does. Simple, right?

But as usual, when I direct a question to my 6 year-old or husband, my MIL always, always, always has to interject.

Me: Little bird, would you like some syrup?

Little bird: That’s okay, I don’t need any.

Me: Are you sure?

Little bird: Yeah.

Mother-In-Law to Me: Aren’t you listening? She can make her own decisions and said she doesn’t want any! Why don’t you just leave her alone?!

Yeah, she got many digs like that in, just like she always does.

My FIL spent most of the time, like every time they visit, lecturing and rambling on. Completely oblivious to the fact that everyone becomes fidgety and bored. This man is like natural ambien.

I actually recorded some of what he was talking about, pretending like I was taking pictures when we were out to lunch one day. It was for the purpose of emailing it to my mom and sister since they are entertained by him but at the same time, can’t believe the shit he talks about.

It’s very difficult to not only follow whatever he’s saying but also impossible to chime in and try to steer his lectures conversation in another direction.

This is just a transcript from the 1 minute 32 second (it went on for 45 minutes) recording I did. And let me tell you, doing this transcript was as exciting as watching grass grow.

I started recording while he was in the middle of talking about whatever the hell he was talking about. I was so tuned out but mostly heard Blah, blah, blah, DNA. Blah, blah, blah. Blah, blah, DNA, blah. It’s like listening to adults in the Charlie Brown cartoons.

Father-In-Law: The authors had incurred their names and some sayings into a DNA. Either 4 letters and you could just use those letters to, um, to represent any letters if you put 2 or 3 together so you can make a code.

And then you can in code your name into it. What he did, uh, he’s done some pretty neat things with DNA and printings so he… his book that he just recently published, and he printed the whole thing and coded into one DNA strand and then he replicated it.

He put 70 billion copies on his book into a single drop of DNA onto this piece of paper that was smaller than a period. 70 billion copies.

The idea is that through DNA, it’s a more efficient way of storing things than the most advanced computers right now.

Here’s how the hummingbird felt about the 45 minute lunch while he was talking.


Me too, hummingbird. Me too.

Have you had to endure any visits from your in-laws recently? 

Updated: In case you’d like to stroll down memory lane, here are a few more of my in-law posts. A Lack Of Boundaries With A Side Of Ranch Dressing, How My MIL Ruined My Wedding And Made Me Want To Set Myself On Fire Just So I Could Get Away From Her Crazy, and When You Wish Upon A Star… And It’s Stuck… Up Where?!

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La Maldita Plaga

Hola! Damn, it’s been awhile, hasn’t it. I got my 106th cold (since the hummingbird started Kindergarten) a few days before Christmas and I’m still fighting it off. Mostly, because I keep getting these nasty sinus infections. I’ve been putting it off but I’m pretty sure I need to see an ENT since it’s been awhile. What’s stopping me is that I know there’s a chance I may have to have another surgery and ugh, I would hate that.

I hope to see my doctor soon about getting things checked out by an ENT.

So, in the meantime I have been completely slacking off because I feel like crappola. But I miss you guys.

There is a blizzard heading our way and I’m so off the wall happy about that.

No, wait. It’s my crazy husband who’s actually excited for a BLIZZARD!

And for the best news ever, my in-laws will be visiting us starting Valentine’s weekend and staying for 5 days.

Yes, 5 DAYS! In our house. For 5 days. 24/7. Staying here. In our house. For 5 DAYS!

Haha. Hahahaha. HAHA! This should be a ton of fun.

Anyway, as much as I despise the snow, the little hummingbird has been doing really well in her ice skating classes. My girl is fearless. And the hubby set up an ice skating rink in our front yard for the hummingbird.

I haven’t tried it out because the closest I’ve been to ice skating is holding on to the side of the rink with a death grip and without moving while I repeatedly say “Help! Help! Get me off this fucking ice!”


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Just Eat Your Damn Dinner

a0721fa704838a78d19b5dcd5f443007My daughter is a tiny girl with a little appetite. Every once in a while she’ll chow down but it’s not often. She always, always, always has some reason why she won’t eat (as do many kids) and it drives me mad. She’ll come home from Kindergarten, say she’s STARVING, and will take just a few bites of her snack before she says she can’t eat another bite.

Then, an hour before dinner, I usually hear: Mom, I’m hungry. Mom, I’m hungry. Mom, I’m hungry. Well, you should have eaten your snack. But, I wasn’t that hungry then. It will be dinner soon. You’ll have to wait until then. But mooom, I’m hungry. Mom, I’m hungry. Mom, I’m hungry.

Finally, dinner will come and again, she’ll use every excuse in the book to not eat. The hummingbird is currently in a phase where every little scratch or bump is a major medical emergency so she’s been using those reasons a lot. There are many times when I want to scream JUST EAT!

I kind of feel like a hostage negotiator.

Me: Eat three more bites.

Hummingbird: How about one?

Me: No, three and then you can have a little treat.

Hummingbird: Can I still have a treat if I eat two more bites?

Me: No.

Hummingbird: But my tummy’s full.

Me: Then I guess you don’t have any room in there for a treat.

Hummingbird: How about one big bite?

Me: No. How about if you just take two more bites?

Hummingbird: But I just took a bite. Does that count?

Me: No. Two more bites.

Hummingbird: But then that will be three bites because I just had one.

Me: *Head Explodes*

Reasons My Kid Won’t Eat

10. I’ve got a scratch on my pinky and need a band-aid. Now, it hurts too much to pick up my fork.

9. I’m too tired.

8. I banged my foot on the stairs and broke my ankle.

7. My tummy’s tired.

6. I poked my finger in my eye and need ice.

5. Do you want a hot dog for dinner? Yes! Are you sure? Yes! Will you eat it? Yes! Sets her plate down. I don’t want a hot dog anymore. My tummy changed its mind.

4. I can’t eat because my leg hurts when I bend it. I think I broke my knee. Well, then don’t bend your leg. But I need a band-aid to make it feel better.

3. I didn’t want that plate.

2. I’m too cold to eat. Go put on a jacket. *Runs upstairs and comes back down a few minutes later in a whole new outfit… minus the jacket.* I’m still cold. Yes, because you forgot your jacket. Oh. *Puts on jacket.* Now I’m too hot.

1. I hurt the blood vessels in my foot.

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Back To School


Well, hello there! I’ve been so busy with school and time with the hummingbird but I’ve really, really missed blogging. For awhile now, I’ve been looking into different education programs that would give me a chance to work outside the home since the hummingbird is finally in Kindergarten.

As much as I write here, other sites, books I’m working on, and my very first screenplay (yay, I’m so excited), I need something that will help supplement my income AND get me out of the house, even if it’s part-time. I really want to go back into the work force and make my own money.

That way, I can tell my husband, especially since it will be coming from my pay that “Yes, we do need that 6 piece martini glass set!” even though he never uses them. Or “I know I already have 7 pairs of boots but I HAD to get another pair in dark brown!” See, I won’t feel as guilty and it’s better than always using my standby excuse… “What, this jacket? Of course it’s not new. It’s been in the back of my closet for years. Well, okay since a few hours before you came home from work.


I really wanted to go back to college and thought I would just start with a class or two at a local community college in the area but the closest one is 45 minutes away from us. Nope, not gonna do that. Mostly because it will be snowing here like crazy soon and I really don’t want to make such a long commute several times a week.

Another thing I thought of was how much I miss working in skin care, make up artistry, and being an Esthetician. I haven’t worked as one in years but have kept my license up to date. But I felt I really needed some updated training. Only, the closest school for that is about an hour away. Yikes.

Recently though, a friend mentioned how a good number of spas in this area like to do their own training so I’m going through the *frustating pulling my hair out process* of getting my school records together, as well as state board records, grades, testing, things signed in blood, etc. so I can apply for a state license here.

I know, this is boring shit. Sorry.

So, in the mean time I decided that since I’m so impatient and I’m really hoping to get out and work after the beginning of the new year (but it will probably be a little later), I decided on a fast track program. I rather not say exactly what it is but it’s in the medical field. When I was first looking into it, I was told to expect at least 20+ hours of homework a week throughout the program and I thought okay, sure.

Holy shit! Much easier said than done. I missed several classes in the beginning because the hummingbird got sick, then I got sick and had that sinus infection that’s still lingering so I still have several more classes and homework to catch up on. But it’s becoming a little less overwhelming than it was.

The nice thing about this program is if you do happen to miss a class, you can watch the recorded online lectures later.

I admit that what I’ll be doing isn’t something I actually plan on doing forever. And I am kind of bummed I couldn’t make going to college or esthetics work right now. But it will still be nice to have something that I can do no matter where we move to and not have to worry as much with state boards and such.

It would be nice though if I can get my state esthetician license here sooner rather than later. Who knows? If I do, I can mix my medical experience and skin care for my patients. While they’re waiting for the doctor, I could give them a relaxing facial massage. Hehe!

So, that’s why my blog has been abandoned for a bit and it sucks.

The bad news is the group blog I was hoping would work will have to wait since I’m already stretching myself too thin as it is.

I feel if I don’t get back to writing soon, my head will fucking explode. And that’s another thing. I know I will always be writing for years and years to come. That’s a given to me. With these different writing projects I’m working on, my fingers are crossed that something will hopefully come out of it.

I’ve also been thinking for a while about whether or not to put together a blog based book filled with essays I’ve written over the past 4 years, along with some new ones.

It’s been a crazy, hectic last few months since going back to school but I’m so glad things finally seem to be settling down a bit and balancing out.

Whether you work from home or outside the home, how do you manage and balance work and kids? Same if you’re currently back in school?

I’ve found with being a military wife, I’ve had an even tougher time finding work since we move every few years, people you meet in the Navy come and go so references can be a pain to have, and while the interviewer will usually let me know “I thank your husband for his service to our country.”, these people pretty much in the same breath say something a long the lines of “But, you have several moves and job inconsistencies on your resume.”

No fucking way? Really? Hmmm, let’s see. A military wife that has to move every few years, uproot the family, and start all over again in a completely new place? Well, duh! Okay, being told that so many times over the years has really gotten to me.

If you’re a military wife, how have you managed having a career while moving place to place? Has it been easy for you or harder?

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