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No More Soccer EVER!

I feel like that should read No More Wire Hangers EVERRRR because Joan Crawford’s hatred of wire hangers is close to my hatred of my kid playing soccer. Yes, I’ve been bitching and whining about how I can’s stand being a “soccer mom” because of it being such a time suck and my kid hates going to practices. Getting her out the door for practice made me want to crawl into a ball and cry.

I bitched and moaned about it to my husband for the past three years and it turns out whining about something for that long finally registered with my husband. But, for some reason, it can take them twice as long to fix something you’ve been asking them to.

So to recap, bitch and whine, don’t politely ask your partner to fix something and they’ll do it faster.

A few weeks ago, my husband said the sweetest words to me that I’ve ever heard in our nearly twenty two years together (yes, we married very young). He said:

“Next year, I’m not signing the hummingbird up for soccer.”

I told him:

“Hallefuckingluah! I could fuck you right now!”

Little did I know that the soccer coach was to my right side, handing out soccer pictures and heard every word.


*Blue Orchid

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Church chat.

Me to the 5 year-old hummingbird: Do you want to give church a try on Sunday?

5 yo: What’s church?? Can I eat it?

Yeah, needless to say, we’re not religious.

*Parenting and Religion

*Get Down On Your Knees

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My kid is trying to get me in trouble.


5 year-old to hubby: Mommy is going to meet a man at the salon.

Hubby: A Man??

5 year-old: Yeah! Mommy loves when a man plays with her hair.

Hubby: What man????

5 yo: A man.

Later on…

Hubby: The hummingbird told me you went to meet a man earlier today.

Me: What man?

Hubby: Some man.

Me: Oh, hahaha! My hairdresser’s name is Amanda.

*I Don’t Know

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That awkward moment when you and your husband are about to go at it and he accidentally pokes you in the ass.

I’ve had my share of sextastrophes in my time, some funny, some cringeworthy… some before my husband.

Whip cream can be pretty damn awesome but if you wait too long, it can be a sextastrophe. During one encounter, it was fun and delicious. Then, about an hour later, it turned sour and the stench was so incredibly nasty.

He was still into it and it was all I could do to keep from gagging. Thankfully, shower sex took care of the problem.

You’re not really sure what to expect the first time the clothes come off. Sure, a penis comes in all shapes and sizes but the crooked ones are tricky. This guy I was seeing when I was younger had such a crooked penis, it could practically be a boomerang.

I’ll never forget standing there and looking at it, thinking how the hell is THAT supposed to work. It didn’t and was the most awkward sex I ever had. Never saw the guy again.

Then, there are those times when something happens that’s absolutely hysterical. My husband and I were being really passionate and everything was in sync. I felt our cat jump on the bed and rub up against my foot. Soon after, my husband had a weird look on his face.

He asked me what I was doing with my hands and I said nothing. That’s when we discovered our cat was licking his ass crack. Well, better her than me. I don’t think I ever laughed so hard in my life.

The one thing I could do without is the accidental ass poke. After all the years that my husband and I have been together, I still get that surprise every now and then.


In my head:

WHOA HO HO HO HO. Wrong hole!! How does he still do that after all of this time?

I’ve had a baby and my vagina is kind of like this big hole now. But he still misses and tries to put it in my ass?

Oh my god… maybe he wants to put it in my ass. Why didn’t he mention this beforehand???

Oh wait… nope… he finally got it right.

Sextasrophe diverted.

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Like a bowl full of jelly.


I absolutely hate wearing a bra and for years I thought I found a way to avoid putting one on by wearing a jacket.

I never said I was the brightest bulb.

I figured my big boobs would be hidden with a jacket so I wouldn’t have to wear that fucking elastic torture device. During the winter, my plan is pretty awesome since I wear a bulky coat that keeps the twins in line.

In the spring, I try to get away with wearing a jacket for as long as possible to avoid a bra, even when it warms up and I’ll be hot as hell with sweat dripping down my face and running down my armpits.

Anything is better than wearing a bra.

Last week, the hummingbird and I were walking into Target and I was wearing a sweater jacket to avoid the dreaded bra.

The bird was asking why I was wearing it since it was warm out.

Hummingbird: You don’t need a jacket, mommy. It’s nice out.

Me: I know, but I can’t take it off since I’m not wearing a bra.

Hummingbird: Why not?

Me: If I took my jacket off, then everyone can see my boobs jiggling all over and flapping around. My jacket hides that.

Hummingbird: But mommy, you’re boobs ARE flapping around all over the place. I can see them bouncing around even with the jacket.

Nooooo! I thought I found a bra loophole and while I assumed my boobs were under wraps, I’ve been a hot and sweaty mess by roasting in jackets that don’t cover these suckers up after all.

My plan has been foiled all this time without me realizing it. Damn it!

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Things that go THUNK in the dryer.


When the little hummingbird was younger, we had a video monitor for her. The monitor was portable and I carried that thing all around the house while she was napping because Oh My Gawd, what if something happened to her while she was napping and I missed it.

Aggghhh!!! I can’t miss it!!

One day she was actually napping hard, YAY, and I rushed around to throw some laundry into the washer. As I’m sure you know, kids LOVE to psych us out and once you actually have some free time, BOOM, they wake up.

Or they do something like fall asleep 10 minutes before nap time is over so you have to wake them up because they’ll never go to sleep at their normal bedtime and you’ll be up all night with a very hyper hummingbird.

I swear they do this on purpose.


I grabbed the laundry, threw the video monitor on top of the clothes in the basket, and raced downstairs.

Then I waited for the little bird to wake up.

Surprisingly she didn’t. Woo hoo!

I was actually able to have lunch and watch some trash t.v. while she was still napping.


I went to throw the laundry in the dryer and then went back upstairs to do a little writing.

I kept on hearing this THUNK, THUNK, THUNK and got up to look around but couldn’t find the source.

Thunk, THUNK!

What the fuck is that noise?!

I walked around upstairs again, trying to find out what the hell the noise was. Our cats were passed out on our bed for their 22 hour nap so they weren’t the cause of the noise.

So, I went downstairs to investigate further.



Then I followed it into the laundry room and heard it coming from the dryer.

I waited a minute and quickly opened up the dryer like I was going to catch whatever it was making that noise in the act.

Just clothes.

What the hell?

I turned on the dryer again and the thunking noise started.

I took all of the clothes out of the dryer, looked through the basket and nada. Just clothes.

The clothes went back in the dryer and the THUNK… THUNK started again.

Fuck it. I closed the laundry room door to muffle the noise.

By that time, the hummingbird was awake.

It wasn’t until later that night that I remembered I had laundry in the dryer so I put it on a short cycle to get out the wrinkles and the thunking started again.

Fine, be that way dryer.

I had another load of clothes in the washer so of course I took the thunking clothes that I had in the dryer, put it in the basket, and let it sit for a few hours.

My husband and I were getting ready for bed and he asked where the video monitor was.

Ummmm, I have no idea, I told him.

Then it came to me.

Oh fuck, I don’t remember taking the monitor out of the clothes basket before I put them in the washer.

I ran downstairs, grabbed the basket of clothes, and took it upstairs where I dumped the clothes all over the bed.

That’s one way to get me to fold the clothes.

That’s when I found the battered video monitor.


So THAT is what was making the THUNK noise.


I felt like such a dumbass, especially since the monitor wasn’t cheap.

My husband was still looking around the house for the monitor when I told him I found it… but your wife is a total dork.

He was optimistic and really thought the monitor would still work.


Because we were still relatively new parents, it sucked not being able to check on our daughter that night with the monitor but I got up a few hundred times to make sure she was okay.

The next day, we went out and got a new video monitor. And I never threw it on top of a basket of clothes while the hummingbird was napping and I was doing laundry.

Okay, yes, I still did it since I like living on the edge but I learned my lesson and never washed and dried another baby monitor again.

Now, I just wash rocks and the occasional remote control the hummingbird sneaks into the clothes basket.

*Hotel Yorba

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When moving, hide the sex toys before the movers find them. You may be thinking, “well duh”, but one time, I forgot.

vibrator1Because we’re moving from Northern California to Maine in just a matter of weeks, I’ve been going down memory lane when it comes to moving mishaps.

Since my husband joined the Navy after college in 1996, we’ve had many moves. The first few years, we would move our own things but then my husband mentioned the military will pay to have movers pack us up and deal with the moving truck.

When he told me this, I asked if they would have paid for our previous moves too. He said yes and then I karate chopped his balls… in my mind.

Then hell yes, let’s have the Navy deal with this moving shit for us, I replied, still karate kicking him in the balls… in my mind.

We’ve had plenty of mishaps with our moves, of course, but there have been some pretty embarrassing moments involving the movers. One time, we had a sandwich bag full of catnip on our coffee table. The catnip didn’t come in a resealable bag so I threw it in a ziplock sandwich bag.

Well, one of the moving guys was packing our stuff up in the living room and found the bag of catnip. Thinking it was a bag of marijuana, he told the other packer guys.

Then they came to us and the conversation went something like this.

Them: Ummm, Miss? We found this and thought you’d like to put it in a safer place.

Me: *thinks for a few seconds* Oh, no. It’s not what you think it is. It’s catnip.

Them, *laughs* Okay. sure. *laughs more*

Me: No, really, it’s catnip. We have a cat, I swear. She’s just hiding because she’s scared.

Them: Uh huh. *laughs*

Me: Here kitty, kitty, kitty!

They believed us, thought it was hilarious that I was so mortified, and for the rest of the two-day pack up, they gave us shit, in a very funny way, about our big bag of catnip/marijuana.

It really was catnip… I swear!

The most embarrassing moment in our moving history was when we were moving from Seattle, down to San Diego.

While living in Seattle, my husband was deployed on a ship for a huge chunk of the time we.. rather I… lived there. Now, a girl has needs and sometimes has to take matters into her own hands.

At the time, Sex And The City was in its first run and I had been a big fan of it from the start. I had remembered an episode where there was a rabbit vibrator.

Curious, I wondered if it really existed and looked it up on the internet.

Yep, it was a real thing. I took a few minutes to think about maybe giving a vibrator a try for the first time and thought about getting it. By then, my husband was gone for 4 months… into a 9 month deployment.



I almost bought the vibrator that night but thought nah, I’ll be fine.

5-7 days later, it arrived in the mail. Woo hoo! The website I purchased it said that it came with a free gift. I had no fucking clue what kind of free gift would arrive with a vibrator. Lube, maybe?

I opened the box to find my beautiful, shiny, new rabbit vibrator. The clouds parted and angels sang.

Then I opened up the free gift. What. The Fuck is this? It was a pocket pussy.

Ewww. What was I gonna do with this? I threw it onto the bed and since it had a subtle, sticky surface and we had a tuxedo cat, Zira, at the time, the thing looked like it was growing a full bush in no time.

Anyway, I had a good laugh at this thing and threw it into the drawer of my husband’s bedside table. I forgot about it in no time, especially since my vibrator and I were bonding.

When my husband finally came home from deployment, we joked about my free gift and it was thrown back into his drawer. Actually, he wanted to throw it away but I thought it was way too funny and wanted to keep it around. Then put it in your drawer, he said

Hell, no. What if something happens to me and when my mom comes to help pack up my stuff, she finds a pocket pussy in my bedside drawer? Actually she wouldn’t care and would think it was funny but I had to come up with some excuse to get it back in his drawer.

Flash forward several months later and it was time for us to once again move.

I was in my bedroom, along with a guy packing up our stuff, while I was trying to get our terrified cat out of the room. Before I walked out, I heard the guy slide open my husband’s beside drawer. It has this squeak when it opens so I knew what the moving guy would find.

I was begging the floor to open up and make me disappear but the damn thing didn’t make my wish come true.

Uhhh… ma’am, we can’t pack these kind of things up ourselves. I’ll give you a minute to do that.

Oh My God.

I was stumbling over my words when trying to reply to let him know it wasn’t something we used but we just kept it around as a joke. Yeah, like he’d believe that.

So, I just said okay, and felt my face catch on fire from blushing so much.

Since then, my husband and I make sure to pack up our bedside drawers before the moving packers arrive. As for the pocket pussy, we finally got rid of it. May it rest in peace.

Have you ever had any funny moving mishaps?

*Damien Rice ~ Cheers Darlin’

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