Posted in Parenting and Random Shit

2012 in review

A huge THANK YOU to all of my readers. This whole blog thing started as just a way to entertain myself and some of my friends. I never would have imagined it would have turned out like this. Whether you’ve agreed or disagreed, I want to thank all of you for taking the time to read and comment to share your thoughts. Now pop open that bottle and start chugging. I hope everyone has a happy new year! Tomorrow is Number Two’s birthday. I’ll be celebrating the first half of the day with cake and the second half of the day with fireworks and CHAMPAGNE, getting lady drunk, of course! Don’t ever change. Well, except for you–no, not you. You. Yeah. You suck. Fix that. 😉

The stats helper monkeys prepared a 2012 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

About 55,000 tourists visit Liechtenstein every year. This blog was viewed about 730,000 times in 2012. If it were Liechtenstein, it would take about 13 years for that many people to see it. Your blog had more visits than a small country in Europe!

Click here to see the complete report.

Posted in Parenting and Random Shit

URGENT: Prayers Needed!

It’s not looking good. He seems to have lost hope of even making it to the end of the day.  I’ve made my peace and, at this point, I am praying for death to just come and get it over with already. You see, Husband has a—-I can barely bring myself to say it out loud–a cold. THERE I SAID IT! I know what you are thinking! “A cold? That isn’t serious, much less terminal”. And that is true, for MOST people. The kids have all been dealing with this seasonal crud for several days and they are fine. What y’all don’t understand is that Husband doesn’t just get a regular cold. He gets attacked by the SUPER, HORRIBLE, KILLER cold germs. It is just much, much, much worse for him. He is in a fight for his very life.sick-husband

All I can say is, whether it is caused by this crippling cold or my bare hands, he is thisclose to fucking death. I would, LITERALLY, rather have all four children come down with the stomach flu AT THE SAME TIME than deal with Husband waking up with a sore throat.  One cough and the unspoken change of his  status to INFIRM is not far away. Apparently, this also requires complete bed rest as part of the self-imposed quarantine in our bedroom. Any medicine touted to help his symptoms, rest assured, will be utilized but, undoubtedly, will fail to compete with the devastating magnitude of his man-cold.  This man-cold is accompanied by a man-cough, which requires a degree of force that causes his entire body to contract so that the bed would move, suddenly and violently, intermittently throughout the night. It was like trying to sleep in a vehicle during an off-road venture.  So, I’m left alone to deal with all the whining and crying and the kids aren’t much better. Big-Baby-Husband-4x6-100-ppi

GOOOOSEFRAABAA—GOOOOOSEFRAAAABAAA—I love my husband. I love my husband. I love my husband. Would a mercy killing defense stand up in court? I mean, he is suffering! It would only be an act of love to end such monumental misery. Okay, okay! Fine! I’m just going to hurt him. Just a little bit. sick-husband

Posted in Parenting and Random Shit

It’s Not Weird, It’s Christmas!

I’ll tell you something my family does on special occasions like birthdays and anniversaries: I get the kids all dressed up and we go to the grocery store or mall and I find a stranger, a man, anywhere from middle-aged to elderly, and I force my kids to sit on his lap and chit-chat and I commemorate it with a photo. Sure, there are times, especially with the little ones, that they freak the fuck out. I mean, they are screaming and crying and pleading with me but I plop them on that strangers lap and just tell the man to hold on tight while I get my camera ready. Sure, as they struggle to free themselves from this perfect stranger’s grips, they are hysterical and obviously completely traumatized but, oh my gawd, how fucking cute is it to watch? I’m already picturing where I’m going to display it once I blow it up to an 8×10 and get a frame.

That would be weird; bordering on batshit crazy. It could all be remedied with one simple detail: a costume. The rules of “stranger danger” no longer apply, as long as the stranger is wearing red PJs and a beard (real or fake) or a bunny costume, depending on the season. No one thinks twice about the strange man  inviting children to sit on his lap and whisper their secrets. When our babies scream, bloody freaking murder,  we think nothing about this total and complete stranger restraining them on  his lap. You’ll see parents in line pointing, cocking their heads adoringly, because nothing is cuter than witnessing a small child that is in fear for his very safety and life. You have got to immortalize that moment. rhan1494l.jpg


Before you take your children and leave, Safe Stranger, gives them a candy cane and a coloring book. You sternly tell your child to say “thank you” for the gifts and go on your merry way. The next day, Little Johnny asks the man in line at the checkout if he has any candy and you promptly jump his ass and stress the dangers of talking to and taking candy from strangers all the way home.

Posted in Parenting and Random Shit

Sh*t My Kids Are NOT Getting for Christmas

If you asked one of my kids what they were getting for Christmas, I’m sure they would rattle off a list that would make your head spin. It does mine. You’d think after all this time, at least Number One and Number Two would have lowered their expectations. Nope. Evidently, they think THIS is going to be the year of the windfall. Each year, they write out their wish list to send on to Santa. Well, this year, I’m writing Santa too. Here is the copy of the memorandum I have sent to the North Pole:

Dear Santa,

The kids are really looking forward to your visit this year. I am trying to appear excited. I think that, although you’ve had the best of intentions, some deliveries of years past have been–well, let’s just say, not very well thought out. For instance, the art set you left for Number One last year seemed perfect. Number One loves drawing and a bunch of sketching pencils and map pencils and few markers made her morning, especially with that giant sketch pad her father and I ended up getting her, as a complete coincidence. It turns out, Number Three likes sketching with pencils too. On walls. And, those markers, upon closer inspection, were paint pens. So, yeah. Much to Number One’s dismay, those mysteriously disappeared. That is why, this year, I thought some guidelines would do everyone involved a lot of good.

1) NO MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS!  I don’t care if it is a Paper Jamz guitar or a Stradivarius violin. It will meet the same fate as those damn paint pens.

2) NOTHING THAT PRODUCES ANYTHING EDIBLE! That cotton candy maker was a disaster. Sure, it makes cotton candy just fine but it also coats anyone and anything within a half mile radius with sugar. I tried contacting a customer service rep at your workshop to register a complaint to no avail. With the experience those elves supposedly have, you’d think that they would have considered the benefits of a lid or covering to keep children from being pelted with sugar.  Bottom line: unless wine is the final product, tell those elves to shove it up their ass.kkin90l.jpg

3) ANYTHING THAT REQUIRES MORE THAN TWO BATTERIES- The only thing worse than the lights and sounds that emit from some of these toys is a child whining and nagging when the batteries die. If it requires more than 4 batteries, you can just leave that shit under someone else’s tree. And you tell those elves that I’m still pissed about the little trick they pulled two years ago with the flipping RC car. I replaced the 4 batteries in the remote and then I unscrewed the compartment on the car and replaced the four batteries there. It didn’t work. I couldn’t figure out why it wouldn’t work and Number Two is bitching and moaning about it being broken. Finally, I found the instructions and discover that there is another battery compartment needing three more batteries on the backside of the car. Seriously? Fuck you. I’d prefer not to have to take out a loan in order to keep the toys operational. funny-pictures-auto-Disaster-Girl-memes-478787

4) ANYTHING WITH “PIECES”- Any toy or game that requires even a minimum amount of responsibility or organization is not at all suitable for a household in which silverware, somehow, goes completely missing, never to be seen again. This includes but is not limited to: dice, puzzles, board games, etc.

5) ANYTHING REQUIRING AN ADULT- The whole point of any toy and the reason anyone is willing to put up with all the obnoxious lights and sounds is to entertain these fuck trophies. AMIRITE? Bringing something that requires even a minimum amount of adult oversight, involvement or direct supervision completely defeats that purpose. Let’s stick to items that will keep them out of my hair so that I can do more important things like drink wine and play on Facebook. tprn172l

6) WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRUCTION- This include play-dough, slime, clay, putty, markers, paint and cosmetics. If it has significant potential to fuck shit up, don’t leave it at my house.

7) SHIT THAT HURTS WHEN STEPPED ON- This eliminates Lego’s, jacks and anything else that is smallish, pointy or otherwise suited to cause intense pain and/or suffering when stepped on. If you care about their safety, you will not supply my children with anything that could cause injury to the bottom of my foot. funny-walking-in-Lego-vs-hot-coal

I hope that you can adhere to these guidelines I have outlined. I want to continue to welcome you into our home, as the children look forward to it each year. If you disregard these requests, I will have no option but to find a creative recourse, since you have been granted immunity from tort claims. Rest assured, straying from the stated guidelines will bite you in the ass come 2013. My plan will include but is not limited to, laxatives in the reindeer snacks, ipecac in the milk, strategically placed legos between the fireplace and tree and a trip wire. Let’s work together this year and we’ll both be much happier.

Dear Santa