Tag Archives: mom blog

My Husband is Cocky Stubborn and Relentless |What’s Wrong with Yours

We all have those little things that irk us about our spouses. Some women tell me that their husbands are too involved in every little decision around the house, making buying a new chair harder than getting your toddler to try broccoli. Some women tell me their spouse’s are so tight with money that they can’t buy a ribbed tank without a budget discussion. Well, neither of those are Mark. For the most part he’s hands off when it comes to decisions and purchases (yay for me). No, mine is an obstinate man with a desire to do everything in the easiest quickest way… with little remorse to boot.

Yesterday while dropping my son at a friend’s house he decided to tailgate the guy in front of him to get through the guard gate. G-d forbid he waits in the line like an average Joe. No, he has places to go and people to see. BTW I, (nagging wife) have warned him that this habit would end in damage to his car. To which he has assured me the gates will stay open for him. I mean don’t they know who he is?!? Hello? Continue reading →

The Best or Worst Ideas For Your Letters to Camp – Not Sure Which

tumbleweed Dear Readers (Day 19 – 24 at Camp Lenox),

As we all know, the best ideas are generated during periods of total and utter boredom. Also, in the shower but there’s never anything to write with so, I imagine lots of great inventions are washed down the drain. Like time machines and renewable toxic waste…

Well, this is one of those brilliant ideas that I dreamed up and had the good fortune to get on paper. PHEW.

BTW, someone needs to invent a pad and pen that you can write with in the shower…

With the advent of camp emails and bunk notes, it’s never been easier to keep in constant contact with your camper. Unfortunately, it’s you contacting them and not so much them contacting you. I should know, spending this summer at camp, I realize that my own great intentions to write letters were squashed by one of my other great intentions — to enjoy camp. Yes, speaking in your camper’s defense, camp is tiring and non-stop, and like being on a constant roller coaster — the last thing anyone wants to do is screech all that fun/energy to a halt to write an update. Also, so much happens in a day that when anyone does sit down to write it’s almost daunting to try to recap, hence the one liners: “Camp is fun.”

That said, I get the plight of the parent as well. Unless you’re rock climbing, getting up on water skis for the first time, tipping canoes, having bonfires, talent shows or raucous games of Name That Tune around the house, the whole we write you and get nothing in return is an oxymoronic phenomenon. Continue reading →

Camp Phone Calls Could End My Marriage

Who knew the highly anticipated camp phone calls could be such a blow to a relationship? Oh well, when my baby is 1500 miles away from home, and I get a few minutes to talk — It’s every man, ahem mom, for herself!

Camp Phone Calls Could Ruin My Marriage #camp #sleepaway #humor

It’s sleepaway camp time and everyone is getting their calls from the kiddos. I’ve found a pattern, in that I desperately want to strangle my husband after each call. Luckily for me (and not so much my husband), I’m apparently not alone.

Look, us moms are ready. We’ve stayed up until the wee hours waiting for the pictures to download — sometimes hitting “refresh” every minute, (and by minute I mean second) as they download one at a time. We’ve studied them like highly trained CIA agents, analyzing their smiles, their friends, their body language. Continue reading →

First Child vs Second Child – 10 Things Parents Do Differently

When I had my first child, I wanted to do everything by the book. I was so nervous that the tiniest misstep would somehow break the baby. In fact, one of my first pieces was about how shocked I was that they just let me leave the hospital with this infant.

What were they thinking?

I had no clue what to do with him. In fact, Continue reading →

22 Little Things My Husband Does That Annoy The Crap Out of Me

annoying things about husband 2 ecard For better or worse … that’s what we agreed to, right? Who new when we signed up for this by saying “I do,” that our mates would become so annoying?

Sure, we love them, but let’s face it, when you live with someone day in day out for what feels like an eternity, the little quirks that were once endearing, or at least easy to ignore, can become somewhat irritating, exasperating, irksome, maddening, and grating. Have I said too much?

Last week, my husband — who has pretty much no idea how to use most of the items in our home or where we keep them for that matter — screamed from the kitchen (after having a tooth extracted), “Hey honey, where do we keep the saltwater, or do we not have any in the house?” I was tempted to send him to the store to futilely search for a bottle o’ saltwater simply to avoid dealing with the ridiculousness of that question, plus I needed time to think of reasons I love him.

Instead, I made you this list of annoying things husbands do (well, mine at least), for the purpose of female bonding and personal sanity… Continue reading →

Motherhood Feeling: If I’m the Sane One – I Must Be Losing My Mind

Do you ever have certain feelings about motherhood, like: Is it supposed to make me this crazy? How am I supposed to be able to think on this little sleep? How come it affects my ability to have a rational thought or conversation … or my ability to shower on a regular basis? Yeah, me too … I usually have those thoughts after conversations like this: Continue reading →

Dealing with Tweens 101 – Play it Cool and Avoid Miley Cyrus

miley wrecking ball

Recently, my 11yo son made me watch Miley Cyrus’s “We Can’t Stop” and “Wrecking Ball” videos. He felt that I had to see them to believe them. Now, if you haven’t seen the videos, let’s just say one is a lot of twerking and writhing and what we use to call “freaking” and “dry humping” (way back in the 80s). Plus a little girl on girl innuendo and a lot of Miley’s scantily clad body rubbing up against things like she’s trying to itch a yeast infection without using her hands.

Continue reading →

40 Signs You’re a PARENT …

40 signs that you are a mother After writing about how you know if you’re the mom of a boy or the mom of a girl, I realized there are so many indicators that define us moms and literally set us apart from every other life force on Earth. So, here you have it: Signs You’re a Mom or as I like to say, You Know You’re a Moms IF…

1. You haven’t heard your actual name the entire day, but you’ve been beckoned relentlessly.

2. You’ve ever sang Old MacDonald with the same enthusiasm you once sang I Will Survive.

3. Lying is always an option, as in … “I’m sorry, the arcade is closed on Sunday.” “I love the outfit you put together yourself.” “You’re right, you do sound just like Beyonce when you sing.” and “No, they don’t give ketchup at the drive-thru.”

4. You have some sort of stain on your clothing that you would literally have to taste to place. What is that latte or spit up? Hmm… Gimme a sec… Oh, it’s spit up.

5. You’ve recently consumed a partial plate of sliders, french fries, chicken nuggets, or mini hot dogs and you weren’t attending Mayor McCheese’s wedding. Continue reading →

Things Parents Do That Embarrass Us Even Though We’re All Grown Up

sex life mom ecard

At about 13 years old, my mom went from doing everything right to doing everything so very wrong. In fact, everything she did was either “so gay,” “so queer,” or “moooooommmmm, you’re so embarrassing.” (It was the 80s, I’m sure they say different things now.) Anyway, it didn’t matter if she was singing the wrong words to Billy Jean or she sneezed at too high of a pitch, it was utterly unforgivable. And don’t even get me started on the things she did around my friends. One time, she smacked her lips while eating a bagel and cream cheese at breakfast with my besties after a sleepover!

Do you believe that?

Mortifying!

I’m sure those girls are still talking about her lip smacking to this very day. Frankly, it’s amazing we remained friends after that appalling display. Well, it’s a testament to my friends, that’s for sure.

That phase lasted for about 4 years. (It’s a phase I’m already dreading with my own daughter because well, there is just no winning, for the parent!) That said, my mom and I have managed to be the closest of friends throughout my life, but she’s still my mother, and there are still those moments when she says something that makes me cringe. You know the kind of cringe that makes your whole body pucker? The kind of cringe that makes you wish you could scour what you just heard from your eardrums with a piece of steel wool? That kind of cringe.

YOU PROBABLY LIKE: 20 THINGS WOMEN WOULD DO FOR THEIR BESTIES

Let’s start with when she says the word Continue reading →

There is No Good Reason to Properly Guess Someone’s Age, Size or Pregnancy Status – EVER!

When a woman, who was not carny folk, guessed my age on the nose, I realized there is NEVER any reason to hit that nail on the head… NEVER.

the_jerk_1979_weight_guessing2

Last week, I was getting a lovely facial, as any facial should be. Wait, did I say
lovely, because I meant frightening, and horrifyingly stressful.

There, that’s better.

Sure, the goal of any facial is anti-aging, but this woman looked me right in the pores with one of those magnifying thingamabobs and said, “Let me guess, you’re about 41?”

“Fuck you! You, evil black-head sucking bitch!” I yelled at the top of my lungs as I smushed the Vitamin C Ester Detoxifying Anti-Aging mask, she was applying, into her eyes.

OK fine, I didn’t do that, but I thought about it, I thought about it hard. I believe I said something more cowardly like, “No, I’m actually 40 and a half.” Then I squeezed the tears from running down my face (as she’d have no trouble spotting them with her all seeing glass).

“Yes, I could tell,” she went on smugly, as if I had asked how she knew, “because some of your pores are rather enlarged and I don’t see naso-labial folds this deep in people under 40.”

“Really, because I’ve had those marionette lines since I was a child.” I said defensively in an ‘I’ll Show You,’ kinda way. Though, it probably made me sound like I used to be some creepy Howdy Doody looking kid, instead. Continue reading →

My New Trick To Make Me Seem Like the Perfect Parent and Spouse

In the post, I’m Freakin June Cleaver Gosh Darn’it, I realized that when you translate anything you say into the 50s speak, it makes you seem really wholesome and attentive and frankly, perfect. You know, the way British accents make you sound smart?

That said, I shall tell you about my day, 50’s style (don’t worry, I’ll translate it back), so that you can see what a little “era tweaking” can do for your reputation as a mother and a wife. (We could all use a trick or two every once in a while, no?)

50s: My darling hubby gave me a sweet peck on the cheek before leaving for work. I handed him his lunchbox with the matching thermos and he tugged on my apron string popping the back open (such a kidder, that one).

Translation: My husband grunted something about “goodbye” as he walked out (not sure, I was still half asleep) he may have slapped me on the ass, don’t really know, too groggy to recall. Continue reading →

Can You Eat a Cat if it Doesn’t Have a Name?

Well, we’re going on week 3 and Josie/Clover/Cat face/Mrs. Bigglesworth still doesn’t have a name or should I say she has too many? How am I ever going to teach her to fetch, and roll over, and play the keyboard, and fold the laundry, and pose for pictures (so that I can make a fortune like ICanHasCheezBurger), if she doesn’t know her name?

What, cats don’t do those things?

Of course they do, you just have to teach them to fold using one of those boards they use at the Gap, also you may have to implant little sticks into their paws so you can control them like marionettes.

And have you not seen Keyboard Cat? She proves to me on a daily basis that anything is possible.

She’s my hero.

Anyhoo, our kitty who will one day be an internet sensation (or at the very least, fold my laundry) has no name. After my kids refused to name her *Clawwdia Schiffer or Justin Bie-purr or Jimmy Talon, or Will Feral or Oprah Winfrey (there’s no play on words there, we just thought it’d be really funny to say, look Oprah Winfrey pooped in the litter box) we were really lost.

We had finally found a boy name we agreed on. That name was Carl.

We all truly got a good laugh out of people coming to the house and having this conversation: Continue reading →

The Suburban Jungle

Jenny from the Blog is like comedy crack, but more addictive and less wack.