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When You Go Out Of Your Way To Make A Nice Meal For Your Family And They Kind Of End Up Being A**holes About It.

1350591749695_7822193*I’m still sick and I have to say, I am the biggest pussy ever when it comes to having a cold. It definitely makes you see just how good you have it when you’re healthy.

Last week, when I was in my “pre-sick” stage, I wanted to make a nice dinner for my husband and the little hummingbird. It’s also the day that I made the incredibly orgasmic mini salted caramel apple pies.

Even though we’re a family of 3, it’s such a pain in the ass to get everyone on the same page when it comes to agreeing on what to make for a meal. Okay, actually I need to take that back. My husband will eat anything. Even some of the most horrible, OMG, what the fuck went wrong meals I’ve made over the years.

It’s my 5 year-old daughter who is picky, picky, picky.

Here’s where I have to say I for the most part ate pretty much everything my mom made. She was a single mom for many years and we had several meals of those cheap pot pies. She did the best that she could to feed us so I absolutely appreciate her efforts.

Come to think of it, I was probably more of a whiny little kid when it came to the food we had but I did my best to eat what she was able to afford.

Anyway, as a parent, there is probably at least one time, if not more, where you make a nice dinner for your family and go out of your way to cover all of the different tastes for them. It’s a pain in the ass but damn it, you want everyone to sit down, have a nice dinner, and not bitch and complain.

This particular night did not go as planned. Of course it didn’t. Fuckity fuck!

It may not seem like a fabulous dinner but I made buffalo macaroni and cheese. The perfect comfort food. So delicious and kid friendly. I even made a special casserole dish of it for the hummingbird.

I was running an hour behind though and everyone was bitchy by the time I was able to serve it up.

I was also bitchy and a total asshole to my husband because while preparing this meal, I realized that while I went to the store earlier, I forgot to get half and half. Fuck!

Then I flipped the hell out and sent my poor husband to the quick mart down the road. He was trying to be helpful and offer alternatives but I was all like NO! I FUCKING NEED THIS FUCKING HALF AND HALF, FUCKING FUCK!

Not one of my proudest moments… obviously.

I finally get this dinner in order and on the table. But did my family appreciate it? Hell no!

My hubby chowed down without breathing because he was so damn hungry and my daughter whined and said she didn’t like it. She wanted me to make Kraft mac n’ cheese instead.

And I had to get up multiple times for my daughter. “Can you please get me a napkin, mom? I wanted juice instead. I dropped my fork, can you get another one? My food is cold now, can you microwave it? Now my food is too hot and I can’t eat it. I don’t like this. Can I have something else?”

OMG! Really, people? REALLY?!

So, I sat there and cried. I totally lost it and cried while thinking fuck this shit.

I sat on the couch and cursed my family under my breath while my husband and daughter happily played together after dinner.

But then, I kinda sorta pulled it together and we had those delicious apple pies for dessert.

And all was finally good again.

Because mmmm, pie!

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Trying To Explain What A Ninja Is To My 5 Year-Old Is Harder Than I Thought… Even With Reenactments.

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So, the title started out as a tweet and a status update on Facebook. But then I started thinking of all the times I need to explain what words mean to the hummingbird.

Needless to say, kids are expert question people. As they should be. But at the same time, I mostly feel like the dumbest person on the planet when I try to explain things to my daughter.

It’s exactly like assignments I would get every now and then while in school. With the teacher saying you need to write a paper explaining a specific topic as if nobody else in the room knew anything about it.

I would think “I’m so glad school won’t last forever so I don’t have to do these kind of things!”

Then I had a kid.

Why the hell isn’t this in What To Expect?!

Chapter 14: When Your Child Asks You A Question And You Don’t Know What The Fuck To Say.

Step 1: Tell them to go ask their father, neighbor, best friend, cat, wild raccoon in the backyard, etc.

Step 2: If that fails, offer them a cookie so you can divert their attention away from a question that will take days to explain, complete with charts, graphs, reenactments, more explaining, and several bottles of wine.

Get with it, baby book people!

Somehow, the word ninja came up in conversation and the hummingbird asked what that meant.

Uhhhh. Ummm. Well…

Ninja means someone is a… ummm, uhhh.

The way I tried to explain what a ninja was to my daughter caused her to have more questions and that’s when I pulled out some moves.

I started punching the air with my fists and doing high kicks.

I could only imagine how I looked.

There was another time recently when I gave my daughter some pirate’s booty for a snack. She said they seemed weird so I tasted one and told her they’re stale. I didn’t think anything of it.

She was quiet for a minute and then asked me what stale means. That led me to ramble on about what stale is and I even threw in how mostly crackers and bread can get stale but food in the freezer can go stale in a different way and get freezer burn.

That led to even more questions and it was the longest 15 minute car ride ever!

I don’t always know how to explain things to her and when I do, it leads to more questions and I’m sure I overload her with all kinds of information.

Then, there are those awkward times when you aren’t quite sure how to approach a matter with your child. It can be easy to forget their innocence.

As I kissed her goodnight and was about to leave my 5 year-old’s room, she asked me how a baby gets into a mom’s belly.

Uhhh. Ummm. Well…

I was taken by surprise and said when 2 people want a child, a baby grows in the mom’s tummy. She knew I was leaving something out and had a sly look on her face when she asked “So, a baby just crawls into a mom’s belly?”

I said yes. Mostly because it was late and wasn’t at all prepared to talk about sex. But that’s what ended up happening. A very strange and awkward conversation about how babies are made.

Something I thought, when the time came, I would explain in a clear manner but ended up sounding like Porky Pig.

She was still full of questions and that’s when I pulled the “Why don’t you wait and ask your dad those questions tomorrow.”

By the next day, it was forgotten so my husband escaped the topic but I’m sure when it comes up again, I’ll be the one she asks.

And then I will refer her to the wild raccoons that roam in our backyard at night. They would probably make more sense explaining these kinds of things to my kid anyway.

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Hey Siri, Play Guns N’ Roses, November Rain. Siri: Forecast For Tomorrow, 63 Degrees And Mild.

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Technology is supposed to make things easier but obviously, there are times when you wish you kept a sledgehammer handy.

My husband finally got a smartphone. Since he’s in the military, at his last job, he had to have a phone without a camera for security reasons. He would give me shit for the obsession I have with my iPhone but now he’s currently having quite the love affair with Siri. And it’s driving me crazy.

Mostly because Siri acts like a drunk crackhead.

Sure, it’s pretty entertaining but Siri, get your shit together! The husband asks Siri things over and over and over again and in that time, he could have easily Googled the same thing hundreds of times.

Husband: Hey Siri, play November Rain.

Siri: Forecast for tomorrow is mild at 63.

Husband: Hey Siri, play November Rain.

Siri: I found rain on Wikipedia. Let me get that for you now.

Husband: Hey Siri, look up cats farting.

Hummingbird: *giggles*

Siri: Hi Husband, what can I help you with?

~~~~~

I don’t usually deal with Siri on my phone but my husband convinced me to give it a shot. To save my sanity, I’ll pass on Siri for now.

Me: Hey Siri, email husband.

Siri: Facetime with Carrie beginning now.

Me: Hey Siri, email Husband.

Siri: Which song would you like?

Me: Hey Siri, email HUSBAND!

Siri: Facetime with Carrie beginning now.

Me: Hey Siri, you dumbfuck… EMAIL HUSBAND!

Siri: Playing video, Californication.

Me: SIRI! CALL HUSBAND!

Siri: Would you like home, cell, or other?

Me: Cell.

Siri: Facetime with Eric beginning now.

Stab! Stab! Stab!

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50 Shades Of Grey: I’m Reading This Craptacular Book So You Don’t Have To. You’re Welcome.

I know, I know. Many seem to LOVE this cringeworthy, hot mess of a so-called book. Me? I’ve tried reading it twice and was only able to barely make it through the first few pages. But the movie is coming out next year and stars Mr. Hottie McHotster, Jaimie Dornan.

And yes, I will absolutely, positively see this craptastic masterpiece of a movie when it comes out on Netflix. Because I have a 5 year-old and have pretty much forgotten what a movie theater looks like.

I first noticed this gorgeous man, Jaimie Dornan, in Marie Antoinette, playing Count Fersen. Whooo! Is it getting hot in here? And I remember some scenes where he was grinding up against the lucky, lucky Kirsten Dunst.

Yeah, it is hot in here.

Now, I’m not a book snob by any means. I mean hello, I look forward to my US Weekly coming in the mail every week and may even do a happy dance when I see it. But 50 Shades Of Grey is pretty fucking awful. And that’s putting it mildly.

So, a few days ago I gave myself a little talk. I said “You know what, me? This craptastic book must be read! It’s not like you need to read it for the movie or anything. You must read it for the laughs.”

Keep in mind. There are a few universal truths:

1. Laughter really is the best medicine.

2. You need those guilty pleasures because life can be a pain in the ass.

3. Jaimie Dornan is such a hottie.

Now, this is where you may or may not come in. I would love for us to read this “book” together. And no, I won’t judge you if you’ve already read it. Or maybe even liked it. Okay, I probably will judge you but that’s besides the point. I promise not to hold it against you.

We need to read this book together, have some laughs, and snark the shit out of it.

I will try my best to give weekly updates on it and you are more than welcome to do the same. Whether you put your take on it in the comment section of my blog, on my FB page, or if you have your own blog and aren’t worried about your readers and/or family members questioning your life choices and sanity.

Whatever the case may be, if I have your permission, I’ll include your views of this book in the updates or link the post you write on your blog.

So, who’s with me?

Don’t worry, if you’re all for it and want to participate but then decide not to, no big deal.

So, ladies… this week, we will be reading the first 4 chapters.

Remember, Jaimie Dornan is counting on us!

Oh my, excuse me while I stick my head in the freezer and cool off.

Hot damn, this man is fine!

Hot damn, this man is fine!

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How To Survive A Visit From Your In Laws

1324012756612_5703688My in laws have finally left and surprisingly, I survived. I pretty much avoided them and stayed out of their way as much as possible. Unless of course they took us out to eat. Because HELLO, FREE FOOD! Who the hell doesn’t like a free meal?! Nobody, that’s who.

If I didn’t avoid them as much as I was able to, I would probably be writing this with pencil and paper from a prison cell. I would’ve been all Orange Is The New Black but really though, orange just isn’t my color.

Well, it isn’t really anyone’s color, except for maybe super hotties like Mark Ruffalo, Ryan Gosling, Chris Hemsworth, Liev Schrieber, or perhaps even the always gorgeous Kerry Washington and Robin Wright.

But I’m totally getting off point here.

For the low, low price of zilch, zero, nada, you too can follow these easy steps to survive your visiting in laws.

Take notes, people! There may be a pop quiz later on.

Step 1: Drink… A Lot. Vodka or wine in a coffee mug is a great choice. Especially one that has been hand painted by your child. It will look sweet and innocent but at the same time, you’ll be getting plastered. It’s a win win.

Hiding your alcohol intake will be one less thing your mother in law will judge you by and bitch about. It will also make it more tolerable and entertaining when your in laws tell you stories about your spouse growing up that you’ve heard 1oo times before.

Step 2: Fake an illness (cramps, bloating, pms, mad cow disease, problematic anal warts) and hide out in your bedroom with chocolate and a good book. Make sure to let out a few groans of pain in their presence.

Step 3: Fake raging diarrhea and hide out in your bedroom with chocolate and a good book. Nobody questions diarrhea. Ever.

Step 4: See steps 1-3.

Happy visiting!

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A Mom’s View: What Happened To My Bathtub?

As I took a shower yesterday, I went to shave my legs but when I lifted one of my legs up, I knocked over a small bucket containing a few squeaky ducks, some kind of small fish that squirted water, and a fake orange wtf from my daughter’s play kitchen.

That’s when I started thinking. What the hell happened to my bathtub?!

Pre-hummingbird, I would indulge in long, hot showers. Oh, those were the days. Or the occasional relaxing bath complete with an inflatable bath pillow, a loofah brush, soft music, and lit vanilla candles on the bathroom counter. Maybe even a glass of wine.

Post-hummingbird, I’m inundated with squeaky ducks, toy cars, and even snorkeling gear. Because every kid, or at least my kid, can’t seem to have a bath without it.

Now, I do quick showers while the hummingbird yells out Mom… Mom? Where is my Hello Kitty shirt? I want to dress up like Elsa but can’t find my blue dress. Can you give me a braid ? I pooped, can you help me wipe my butt? MOM! Are you almost done???

That’s when I thought, you know what? I’m going to show you a mom’s view of the crap all over the bath. And because I’m kinda nuts, I even took a picture.

Now, keep in mind, it’s usually more of a disaster than usual but I recently cleaned up because in just mere hours, my in laws will be visiting for four fucking days. Yeah, you read that right. My in laws are coming for a visit.

RED ALERT… MY IN LAWS ARE COMING!

Don’t worry. I’ve already purchased an economy sized bottle of red wine and made sure I have plenty of vodka at the ready. Actually, while we were at the store, my husband grabbed a big bottle and said “Do you think this will help you make it through my parents visit? hahaha

In case you’re new here, you might want to take a look at some of these in law posts: My MIL ruined my wedding and made me want to set myself on fire just so I could get away from her crazy, In-law Apocalypse, My in-laws are coming and I’ve already reserved myself a spot in a psych ward just in case, The time when my in-laws invited themselves to my sister’s wedding and she wanted to kill me and then my mom wanted to kill them only 2 hours after their presence, the very touching story of A Lack Of Boundaries With A Side Of Ranch Of Ranch Dressing, and my personal favorite… When You Wish Upon A Star… And It’s Stuck Up… Up Where?!.

If you dare, just scroll though my subjects and look up in-laws and mother-in law where I vent, bitch, and whine about them.

But back to the subject at hand.

A Mom’s and Dad’s view after kids. This could go two ways, zero participation where all you hear is crickets, chirp, chirp… or wanting to show your view. Whether describing your kids takeover of your bathroom in the comments section, or posting you own photo on my Facebook page, This Is Mommyhood.

I would absolutely love to read about it or see pics. I can’t be the only mama out there with this issue.

So, come on ladies and gents. Don’t be shy. We’re in this together. Show me what you’ve got! If this goes well, I may, just may show you my 5 year-old’s room aka the disaster zone that’s clean for five minutes and then BOOM, it’s an outright mess. I may even show the hot mess that is my kitchen, or the hummingbird’s play area… GASP!

This is my view of the bathtub. But keep in mind, it usually looks much worse, with toys on the floor and lying all over in the tub:

Mermaids, and buckets, and snorkeling gear, oh my!

Mermaids, and buckets, and snorkeling gear, oh my!

xoxo

Updated: If I get at least 5 pics of your bathtub kid takeover on my FB page, I will absolutely show you the little hummingbird’s hot mess of a bedroom next week. WTF am I saying?! I’ll probably show you anyway because I just lurves to overshare. haha!

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My kid has learned to lay on the guilt. F***ck.

Not to offend or be politically incorrect (Actually I hate being politically correct, it’s called humor people!!! Get a fucking grip.), blah, blah blah… but I feel like I’m living with a tiny Jewish mother when it comes to my 5 year-old daughter.

Not that I have a Jewish mother and I don’t mean to stereotype, but as long as I’ve been on this earth, there have been countless times that I’ve heard that Jewish mothers have taken guilt to an art form.

Anyway…

What really stood out for me was when we had our camping trip a few weeks ago and the little hummingbird really layed the guilt on us. I felt like shit but at the same time, it was fucking hilarious to me. I don’t know, maybe you had to be there.

My husband was making a fire so we could roast some marshmallows for s’mores and to start the fire, he dug around in the backseat of the car for some paper. It was paper with drawings and such that the bird made at preschool.

Drawings that she forgot about that had been in the back of my car for months. Yes, I really need to clean my car. Desperately.

My daughter normally didn’t give a shit about these pictures and drawings but immediately grew an attachment to them when my husband picked them out to use for the fire. I get it, really I do, since I do the same but what followed almost made me pee myself.

As her sudden attachment to her pictures were burning in the fire, she layed on the guilt big time.

I’ll never forget it.

As she watched them burn, she stood by the fire with the most pitiful look on her face and said “Bye pictures, I’ll miss you.”

Really kid, REALLY?!

But it worked and the husband and I looked at each other and I knew we were thinking ” Holy hell, we are shitty parents.”

Of course, once we sat around the campfire together and made the delicious, gooey s’mores, the hummingbird quickly forgot her beloved artwork.

Since then, she has found that laying on the guilt works in her favor.

Damn it!

What have your kids done to really lay on the guilt?

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