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For most of my life, I have tried to be a chameleon.  If you were a Republican, I was in the Tea Party. If you liked country music, I was Carrie Underwood’s second cousin.  I am not political, although I love political humor, and my play list is labeled with such gems as,  “‘Bootie’ Music Explosion” and “Crunkalischious”.    Living in Southern Suburbia, with a New England background swearing more than the ladies in the movie “The Fighter”, there is a fine line between being myself and causing people to exclaim”Oh Heavens, what did she just say, fetch me the vapors Scarlett.”    Here are just a few reasons, why I probably should not run for any Southeastern School District PTO:

1) I cried laughing when the teacher/ DJ played Jimmy Buffet’s “Jamaica Mistakia,” at the 3rd grade Luau and “A++hole” & “s**tty” were not edited out. That was hours ago and I’m still laughing uncontrollably. No one else was amused. Actually, I don’t think they heard it which I find EVEN FUNNIER. I think I snorted.

2) I did not wear my flowing Luau attire, with my gold~lame~boot~thong (no, not that kind silly) sandals. I wore shorts that I do not remember being as short last year. Either my legs grew (at age 42??) Or my child bearing hips came in nine years too late.   I wore ridiculously high wedges. My outfit was a cross between an Aeropostle sale and 2010 Express’s spring line.

3) My sun glasses are NOT cool. Maybe that’s because I have been banned from buying “designer” shades since I misplace, break or dive off boats with them on my head into giant lakes. That’s another blog. Needless to say, my dollar store shades make me look very non~PTO~ish and quite frankly, I don’t think they protect my eyes. I have a screaming headache either from them squeezing my head or them not even shielding the sun.

4) I asked if I could drink one of the bottled waters, under the snack tent, and I felt like I walked up holding Joe Biden’s hand at a Republican convention.

5) I do not say things like  “Let’s all make sure we make good choices during musical chairs”  , I am more along the lines of “For the love of all that is tranquil, please LISTEN TO THE WORDS THAT ARE COMING OUT OF MY MOUTH”.

6) I do not like bouncy houses. They freak me out, so if I were on the PTO, they would be banned. I would nominate the ban,  second the nomination and ban bouncy houses. I would be known as the PTO Mom who ruined School Parties. I strongly dislike clowns as well….Who held hands with Joe Biden stealing bottled waters at the Republican Convention.

7) I just don’t think I have PTO hair. I can fix the front, but by the time I get to the back of my head, my arm is aching from trying to fix the same section so I relinquish the battle to a mop of glop. I’m always transfixed by how some of these PTO moms look like they had literally every. Piece. Ironed. Flat. OR expertly. Crafted. Into~a ~”messy”~ curl. You know the song “I woke up like this” by Beyonce. Yeah, I wrote that, but it has completely different context where I am concerned.

8) I kind of have a two hour window on when I feel like I’m going to pass out from exhaustion from being around so many children. I’ve tried. I substituted , I even did Vacation Bible School once (Gasp! I know right? I’m kinda shocked I didn’t spontaneously com-bust in the church recreational room either!!).  I do not have the “You are not making good choices” vernacular.  I most certainly did not make good choices as I child. I was kind of a rebel. A free spirit. I talked back and “sassed” and was probably on the “problem list.”   Today at the pool I muttered a string of profanity while my kids had swimming lessons, with a very religious , gentle-souled teacher. I’m pretty sure I saw her throw water on me and pray.

9).  I do have a bad case of “Resting Bleep Face.  It’s not that I am angry all the time, my lips literally curve downwards and I have two ‘Victor Newman’ scorned wrinkles between my eyebrows, and kids generally do not respond well to my Victor Newman tyranny.

10).  Right now, as I am writing this blog, my daughter whined “It’s already 11:02 mommy, the party is probably over, (it started at 11:00), because we are running late.  I clenched my fists, squinted my Victor Newman eyes, and whined right back to her “pleaseeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee, oh puhleeze, let me jussssssssssst finish this… ” and my lips curved downward, even further to illustrate what I like to call “Active Bleep Face”.

If you know my blogs, you know I still have not received the manual from the hospital whence my children were born, because the only one I have stopped at three months. I have yet to hear back from my complaint at said hospitals.

I do know who and what I am. I over-try. I over-compensate. I actually sweat and my fit-bit explodes with “goals-met”, while I’m parenting. Sometimes it comes out side-ways and some Moms might find me , unsavory.  My R.B.F, or A.B.F, is not haughty disdain for other moms or the PTO Mom, it’s knowing I can’t always protect my kids from the world and I do wear that on my sleeve, a lot.
No, I’m not PTO-Mom material, and I learned how to own “that” FROM my children. I watch them and  soak up every single bit of their tenacity and confidence infused into the cells of their young people souls. I learned that trying to be something I am not, only brings confusion. I can only hope that one day, they are holding hands with Joe Biden’s kin, drinking unapproved water bottles, laughing at inappropriate jokes, and being unequivocally themselves.  (I mean, it would be awesome, if it were at a Republican convention, but let us not get greedy…)


or 10 things that happen when you end up in the emergency room. I have been in many ERS over the past year (no, not just for my children, my Dad was sick last year and we were  looking out for him etc etc,I  tell you this because if I didn’t you would be like WTF is wrong with this Mom).  Let’s cut out the insanely verbose scrappiemomma monologue and get right to it.  I write what I know:


1) My son recently got the bubonic plague. The above diagram indicates how the puking episodes transpired.

2) They feel like biscuit fireballs with the fever. On day 2 of da plague, he said his body felt like it was stretching. I almost passed out myself when the thermometer spiked to 104.5 in like seconds,  threw it across the room, grabbed keys, my son  & didn’t even finish taking his temperature.

3) Frantically sped towards emergency room with hazards on blast and screaming at red lights wondering;  “is it really necessary to have traffic lights in the middle of the night?” I suppose the tractor trailers  barreling down the road, deems traffic control mechanisms necessary. To a panicked Mom, though, anyone being on the road seemed unnecessary.

4) There is really NOTHING worse than and ER doc who is “dismissive”. I am being gentle here.  The other word I had chosen when I first write this started with an A and ended with a Hole.  I KNOW they are busy, I understand they are overwhelmed, but there really is no greater  feeling of complete helplessness when it comes to your family needing medical attention and the  ER people act like you are at Starbucks complaining that your foam isn’t foamy enough.

  •   Funny, Funny caveat. Last year the few times my Dad was in the ER, not so funny at the time; there was this one particular ER where instead of an actual NURSE or Attendant coming in to ask you registration questions, THEY WHEELED IN A GIANT MOBILE CART WITH A FREAKING PERSON ON SKYPE. Ever watch Big Bang Theory where Sheldon decides to only travel TO AND FRO via Skype on his computer? Seriously SAME SCENARIO.   Coincidentally, while I was providing pertinent information to “Shelbot”, a patient came running down the hallway, half dressed banging on the window, jumping up and down, pointing to my phone saying she needed to make a call.   At this point in the scenario, I was rendered speechless, and if you know me, it TAKES A LOT TO SHUT ME UP.

5)  This past ER visit. I had forgotten I cut and stubbed my pinkie toe on this fabulous garden paverkeepsgrassfromgrowingintoflowergarden thingies ( (seriously I’m HGTV illiterate)  my husband had put out front a few days before.   I looked down at cut on my toe and I FREAKED. I was convinced I had contracted the flesh eating bacteria while in the ER and almost had a panic attack and passed out until I remembered that I’m extremely clumsy and the majority of the bumps, bruises and scrapes I bequeath are due to my inability to walk a straight line. Sober.

6) You will do anything for your kids when they are sick. I was ready to donate any body part needed at any point in time.  We compromised by ordering an overpriced Minecraft bat on Amazon and then got really distracted and decided I needed to order the “tangle free brush” for my daughter. I was so incredibly distracted (there is a lot of ANXIETY RIDDEN DOWN TIME (#ARDT) and waiting in ERs and hospitals) I ended up order  SIX Ultimate De-tangling brushes.

  • Note, I capitalized ANXIETY RIDDEN DOWN TIME  and coined/hash tagged the term (ARDT) to indicate there is a HUGE difference between REGULAR DOWN TIME (#RDT…watching HGTV and Walking Dead) and #ARDT where ordering things on Amazon seems to alleviate anxiety. Buy now with one click is a highly dangerous button while undergoing #ARDT.

7)  There is a vast difference  in aesthetics, food, activities, Nursing Staff, at a regular hospital and a Children Hospital. I do not know how else to elaborate other than the fact it’s like Disney versus Chuckie Cheese.

8) I had a giant fever blister on my lip the entire time my son was in the hospital which if you know anything about fever blisters, they THRIVE on stress, so it like grew exponentially, hourly. To make me laugh, my friends kept saying that the Nurses were saying “High Maintenance Fever Blistered Mom in room 235 needs us again, no it’s YOUR turn to deal with her…”

9) Even “funnier”, somehow in the process of being in two 3 ERS  shuttled through Atlanta in ambulance transports etc etc , somehow someone forgot to write down the name and number of my son’s pediatrician; therefore, it was written on his chart “Family has no pediatrician”.   So I am downstairs in the Disney Cafe, when my husband texts me from my son’s room “Social Services is here, we do have pediatrician right?”

  Fever Blister Ridden Mom Drops salad on floor and screams “DON’T TAKE MY BABIES”.   Yes, I have a pediatrician for my children.

10) No disrespect to ANY of the staff in medical facilities , even if you are “dismissive” like # 4, because I’m sure Anxiety Ridden Fever Blistered Moms  are no picnic for the medical community either.  Even with all the ARDT that comes with  having a really sick kid, being in the ER, or being hospitalized, I am eternally grateful for  ERs, Hospitals, Children’s Hospitals and Nurses!


Happy Nurses Week :)