Posts Tagged ‘satire’


For the stay at home mom of two mini-defense-trail-lawyers, summer is our “bottom-line-year-end-push” for the “Brush your bleeping HAIR & TEETH”, Law Firm. Our bonus is calculated in our ability to keep loss prevention to a minimum.  If we roll into the next school year with less than 15 new carpet stains, 7000 door slams, 46 orthodontic appointments and 6 mildewed towels that were repeatedly left to dry in “humidity”, we have exceeded expectations.

I am not setting the bar high this year. The notion of bringing my children to any venue in which they are not ceaselessly entertained, is like cleaning the court restroom with infant gum cleanser and organic Chia seeds.  Summer equates to an afternoon of of sofa-bungee-jumping, hot-gun-Lego-gluing, and exercise-band-pulley-system-over-porch-railing, regardless of how hard I invariably tried to exhaust their fast-talking-locomotive-engineered souls.   I am preparing myself for the sum of all variables to equal the futile rescue of a fitness ball from grips of “Operation Treadmill Implosion.”

I make summer more arduous than litigation. My husband says my pre-coffee morning banter is like death by a thousand paper cuts the ocean.
I strive for simplicity. I aim for peaceful activities such as, baking nutritious foods where antioxidants dance on their discerning taste buds, while they proclaim their undying love for my culinary masterpieces. 

   I know need to let go of my stonewalled devotion of “winning” summer.

I over analyze the life out of life.  I plan summer like a trial lawyer.. (hmm..wonder where my kids…)
How many sticky notes are on my fridge, bathroom mirror and front door? (a dozen)  How many alarms do I set daily? (10)  My phone calendar has chronic pop-ups of -“this conflicts with another event”..My pretty pale pink Mom calendar is destroyed by sharpies and exclamation points.

For example, I run with a friend dangerously early for my coffee depleted soul.  My alarm was labeled as such “Rub Sally, mtthf –choose 1 or 2”   My paper calendar just had her name written all over the place.  We translated as the following:
“Run with Sally, Mon, Tues, Thur, or Fri, choose 1 or 2.” because I am not a morning person. Or an afternoon person. Or a night person. I’m kind of an 11-2 person.

I literally have LAUNDRY written on every sticky note. Laundry. Who “forgets to do” laundry?  As though my “crisp” sticky notes will guide me to even “crisper” outfits, softly lain in drawers, ready for court. I’m pretty sure I broke the wrinkle-shield button on our dryer from over-use , so screw “crisp” starched clothes.

I do strive for “meditation-yogi-master”,  where the cloud of sporadic thoughts nestled in my furrowed brow, morph into Zen-Clouds,   transcending spirituality and float over my children in calming earth tones.    I see Zen-like Moms, and I want to propose some type of sister-wife courtship arrangement, just to channel their inner Zen.  No, husband, nothing else there, only a signed business contract. between busy moms where I can plead the fizzle on the mass procreation of laundry or the divorce court of socks..Seriously though, my husband has 75 DIFFERENT types of almost THE SAME type of black sock.

Last year, I wanted my son to be more of a reader so he could cultivate his trial lawyer skills so one day , his affluent law firm will fund our coastal retirement cottage. I had 5000 Summer Library leaflets glued to the fridge. We attended ONE library session thingy, 1 DAY before school commenced.  Here is an example of 1 entry from his journal.  “I will do nothing today” or “Mommy makes me angry” or ”Mommy is angry”. 

I avidly read books. ok well I try to avidly read books. I love to read, but reading and “momming”, is like stripping and “library-ing”.  They are not in the same career genre.   I will however, hungrily ingest details of every Celebrity magazine during every Doctors appointment.  I will tune out the lecture of how to expand, floss, and brush,   while I recall the ”Who Wore It Best” court room debate silently, in the recesses of my brain.

Before children, summer meant vast open spaces of nothingness.  Over spring break, I saw a young lady fast asleep on the beach and she laid motion-less for 2 full hours. I checked. I even contemplated waking her out of concern, or jealousy.  My husband was on “child-watch”, so I took a 33.45 second nap and dehydrated myself in a puddle of drool. Karma is a B.  The nothingness of my pre-child days is now socially compartmentalized litigation. Daily, I have to create a cyclical vortex of entertainment for my wide-eyed tranquility murderers.   I just want to be able to complete a thought, a full thought, without someone trying to bellow out a closing argument as we are 10 minutes late to. .well, the pool….

What are your lofty plans this summer?

From day one, I learned that approval of other humans meant goodness and disapproval meant soul-crushing unworthiness.  Mark Zuckerburg made a multi-billion dollar company off the approval  concept, that stems back to notes in class; “Do you like me? check – yes or no.” Many bloggers are making a ton of money by controversially polarizing  people against one another, faster than Dr Phil can rattle off a cliché during Family Feud.  

My need for society’s or social media’s approval has taken up too much rent-free space in my Rolodex imagination.  I no longer wish to take hellish business trips into the vicissitudes of my multiple inferiority complexes.

Listed below are ten things I am going relinquish and cast out  from my rent-free brain, to free up more space  for watching “Walking Dead” marathons, because that is some uplifting television.  In five years or even five minutes,  my approval rating will not matter and it’s only important to me, my family and those who  truly care for me.

1) Catering my writing and posts for more “likes” and “comments.”  Obviously I want to engage people in my writing and connect with people.  On the flip side,   It’s  selfish act, because its therapeutic and its a great way for me to practice self-care and hopefully along the way, I am inspiring people or making people snort milk out of there nose with laughter. However I am not going to tie my identity and self-worth into lack of engagement or cruel comments. It’s truly not worth my time.

2) Taking Facebook off my smart phone. I do like Facebook. I do like staying in touch with people. I love seeing friends and family and funny bird dancing videos. I don’t like feeling like I need to  check in on Facebook all the (insert string of profanity here) time. It’s a great social tool, period end of story. I need a break from it being on my phone, because I absorb everything I read and sometimes it’s just too much for my spongy brain. If I had been fancy with the numbers,  I would have been a mathematical genius.

3) Ending this incessant need to feel like I need to’ like’ and ‘comment’ on everything I see on Facebook so no-one feels left out or unworthy. (the flip of #1) I know right?  I am not a ego maniac, but # 3 begs to differ, maybe it’s ego doing a doughnut in reverse?  I am also not Facebook’s Mom. I will say, this behavior stems from knowing deep down, what it feels like to be left out, teased, bullied , and cast aside,  I do not wish that for anyone, even my “frenemies” ;),  I can’t save the world and definitely  not through Facebook.

3) Agreeing with people because I do not want to defend my opinion because I do not think my opinion or my thought process is valid.

4) Taking on other people’s sadness or bull$h^!, like I am their therapist. I will ‘Melodie Beattie’ my co-dependency habits right on out the door.  I wonder if Melodie knows, she is now a verb in my life.

5) Saying ‘No’ to activities I can not pursue and say yes to honoring my own commitments to myself and my family.

6) Putting my ‘Stay at Home Mom Guilt’ in a giant trash bag, setting it in the trash, lighting the trash on fire and busting out “The Dougie” while that guilt fades away. I have nothing to feel guilty about, other moms working to support their family HAS NOTHING TO DO with my family’s decision for me to be a stay at home mom.

7) Resisting the urge to flip my lid when someone provides unsolicited feedback. That is all their business, luggage, skeletons and carry-baggage, not mine.  #byefelicia.

8) Purposely trying to cut people out of my life that honestly care about me as a person. That’s even hard for me to type, so the walls  may never reach the foundation and I am accepting of my protective nature. I am trying to be less of a military-black-ops-bad-ass with my emotions. I’m not fighting a war against feeling my emotions anymore.

9) Heeding any attention on my perception on how people “judge me”. We all do it. I want to do it less, and care less when people do it to me.

10) Feeling like I should not blog or be a writer because Word Press makes me blotchy and scratchy because I am allergic the “hyperlinks and widgets.” Feeling “less than” other writers, because I did not go to graduate school, or I am not smart enough or I’m too old, or my blog is not pretty enough , or I can not upload cool pictures of cool people doing cool things in GIF format. I’m not writing for children.  I will stop feeling like I “need” to write because I am a Stay at Home Mom and I need bellow out my productivity statistics in order to justify my existence and relevance.  I’m writing for myself.

10a) Feeling like I need to profusely swear in my writing to be more “relevant”.  I agree, it makes for some humorous reading and I think Huff PO even said, utilizing profanity is a sign of intelligence.. (I truly think some of their pieces are a…. “Hey boss, watch me post this blog and see the internet explode..) but nonetheless, It’s just not who I am as a person. I save all my profanity for Atlanta roads.

I do not need your approval for my life.  I do not need to justify my actions to anyone other than God and my family. I do not owe anyone, anything (well maybe the bank and stuff). I think Salt and Peppa said it best  “There is only one true judge, and that’s God  so chill, and let my Father do his work. side note (please insert whoever your God or Higher Power etc, with the Salt and Pepper rhyme,    do not turn my last sentence into a religious debate   ..xo)

A Pharmaceutical Haiku:

As I drive thru for pick-up,
I swiftly reach toward
the tunnel of meds
I place my grasp on a
crinkly-gleaming white bag of scripts

“Express pay please” I say, smiling with giddiness ….

I bathe in the knowledge,
Co-insurance hasn’t dawned it’s doom,
a fire-breathing-loophole-face-


I continue to grin,
to the musical snapping sound,
…A Pharmacist-tech staples,
100-gazillion-thousand page thesis
in teeny tiny fine
squint worthy print

Possible side effects:

-death by break-dancing
-instantaneous limb severance
-morphing into a unicorn centaur
-sudden urges to burp or burpee

I look into the prescription goody bag
A bedding of crisp Saffroned zoloft,
Infused with a Crackle of Buspar,
finished with a soussant of Wellbutrin.

The pharmacist tech glances down,
furrows her brow a bit,
waves her boss over….

The phone intercom beeps loudly!
our eyes meet,
the Pharmacist bellows out
a stern caveat-warning in
static ….

“Make sure you don’t spill any – it’s a federally controlled substance and you cannot get a refill until it’s time…”

..he stared at me
glasses on the bridge of his nose
“Ah yes!”
as I absorb the subtext,

“NOT for any Momtocktails”

……..or he knows I’m incredibly clumsy.

Mr. pharmacist,
I got you.
Momma knows the drill.

Full disclosure:
The federally controlled substance is not for me , it’s for a family member. For those or receive updates on my blog, and know me, I am not drinking or utilizing any controlled substances. I am just taking a incredibly , painful stab at poetry..After careful review and many attempts, I think I’m going to stick to blogging and my book.

I should have learned from my feeble attempt at understanding poetry. My 3rd grade teacher asked us to write and summarize the words to a famous poet from 18th/19th century and I choose Whodini’s – Five Minutes of Funk.
Man, I love that song.

Emails to teach:

Posted: December 19, 2014 in humor
Tags: , ,

“— is sick. still hasn’t eaten today. No fever as of this morning but just waiting to see if tomorrow is a possibility. She did get a flu shot this I’m hoping for the best
I’m emailing all of you bc is she misses school she will miss chorus and school class party and I was also scheduled to volunteer.
I’ll let everyone know by tonight/early morning”

“—– did have his reading log done last week but erased the first block to re write and I didn’t realize he waited a week to pass back in again. He said he would be a zero is there any possible way for him to get seem credit bc he had 75% of it completed as required last week?”

Insert melodramatic closing:

Due to the fact that it’s all about my children and I’m obviously unaware of the 23 other students you and their insane parents you have to deal with daily. I did write nice Christmas cards and delivered small gifts of appreciation as instructed by Huffington Post Parents.

I feel like I should add this is a satirical poke at MYSELF because from the comments section on The Onion , The Oatmeal and Huffington Post in general, people of the inter-webs are
a) extraordinarily cranky and pissed off about EVERYTHING or b) have no earthly understanding of dry humor or satire.

You’re welcome.

I just spent 1.5 hours on the inter webs researching the best face creams because the news is so unbelievably depressing, every sponsored ad on Facebook is how to get, stay or be HAWT for the damn Holidays  all while mastering the program of bolstering your Super Mom-treprenuer productivity by 70000% and Pin all “dis” on Pintrest.

I have no desire, none whatsoever, to “eat a sensible snack” before Mee Maws Cheese on Cheese topped with Cheese Macaroni and Cheese Lovers (with a side of butter) casserole is served.  Why on God’s Green earth would I want to fill in the spaces of my stomach with a kale smoothie before Mee Maw sets down a delicious spread of hot bubbly extra gluten , extra dairy, extra carb-o-rific casserole in front of my gleaming eyes and rumbling stomach? As much as I try to eat healthy, I will be dammed if I am going to eat a meal, before a meal, to avoid over-eating at said second meal.

If I see one more article on how MomtreprenPintrestuer Molly Mae, defies the time-space continuum by mastering bento lunches,  890 recyclable crafts and home schools her gifted eldest cat Freddie, all while penning her Momster Mania novel, I might actually just eat gluten straight out of the bag and throw my aspartame laden soda away. in the trash.

Due to the onslaught of violent CNN outbreaks and incessant gym-selfies, I told Facebook “I don’t want to see this anymore” meaning anything other than Grumpy Cat.  I was also referring to the 7987th sponsored ad with a wide-eyed, fluffy haired, sweaty model asking me if I had the fortitude to be the new strong which was the old skinny. Wait what?   Additionally, I could gain the knowledge on how to acquire an abdomen so tight I would evenhandedly put Spanxx out of business.  To which Facebook asked me 6570 more questions as to why I had the audacity to question the strong, yet tiny model who ironically bolsters the “new skinny of strong” image of 7% body fat while also trying to convince me sugar was the new cocaine.

Does your brain hurt now? I understand because my brain hurts too.  I thought what better way to clear the wreckage of a scowl hangover on Facebook, then to search for an anti-aging serum for my tired face.  (Additionally I also went down memory lane for a “throw back” Thursday photo and realized that all the fat I had in my face, had sunk to various levels throughout my body, leaving lots of chalices and crevices for extra Facebook Scowling ).

Did you know that last year I had hyaluronic acid injected into my knees due to fact that my feet turn in (making an already short person, shorter, Thanks G-Dawg)  which in return wore out the cartilage in my knee caps?  Did you also know that it’s this same hyaluronic acid that Dr Oz SWEARS reverses the aging process by 5678 years, 2 children and too many helpings of Mee Maws Cheesy mac?  Did you also  know that my Ulta Coupons and rewards was burning a hole in my email because there was only 7 days left till Christmas???

Inevitably, this adventure led me to a search for the perfect skin care regimen that would rewind time, set back the clock, and revitalize the youth cells in my scowling Facebook face. SIGN ME UP.  1.54 hours, 2 Jim Gaffigan You tube clips, 23 squinting, scowling coupon entry attempts, later, I am the proud owner of face cream that will make my husband think he traveled through the Lake House time travel movie when he comes home from his business trip!


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 :)



Ill be a passionate, limited filter, motha-jogger, loud~mouthed, edgy, overprotective, fierce warrior, scrappy survivor till I collapse.
And btw that song is my new fave jogging song , . I say jog because I don’t “run” maybe I’m not that much of a bad ass.. ‘mae’ juzalil’ (maybe just a little…)

I’m up with the “doers” & over achievers because we gave our kids TOO MUCH FRESH air yesterday and those fools talking about “mommy? MOMMY I’M UP MOMMMY”.  My daughter literally woke me up to tell me ” I HAVE TO GO TO THE BATHROOM”  I shot up in wide eyed “HOLY SHIT GRAB THE PUKE BUCKET SPOCK” panic mode, but thank you lord of the Mondays, she just had to tinkle like a princess.

So yeah, I’m fired up like all these insane motivational speakers hash-tagging the shit out of “doer”, and all those “successories” that make me want to put a hot fork in my eye hole like those bad asses on the Walking Dead.  I loathe the term “doer”, I have actually convinced a friend we need to make t-shirts that say “Be a doer”,  on the front and “not a donter” on the back, because well, I love irony and sarcasm. And sadly, I will probably motivate people to be even more successful , Oh CRAP, Now I am a motivational writer, with my fancy slogans, (that I stole) and tshirts…. please use pay pal account below to pay 2gs for this seminar.*

I’m fired up to write my ass off this week. Not in here, per-say, so do not expect any more of my fabulous, insightful, motivational, “wide-eyed” “doer” filled blogs. I need to get more accomplished on my book because I think I might be losing brain cells with every time I’m woken up to attend to bathroom duty, find my little pony duty, I had a nightmare because you let me watch the Piranha movie duty or I can’t sleep because you let me drink 6540 Dr peppers duty (albeit anything is better than HOLY SHIT SPOCK BEAM UP THE VOMIT RECEPTACLES duty)… Yes, I’m not even trying for Mom of the Year , so suck it Supermoms.  I just want my kids to grow up and be peaceful human beings.  Hence, my decision to let my son watch some of the Piranha movie, I thought, “How could this harm his psyche?:”, oh shit. He may never go in a lake again. I may  never go in a lake again, Have you seen that freaking movie?? I’m having nightmares now!

Till I Collapse bitches.

“Cause sometimes you just feel tired,
Feel weak, and when you feel weak, you feel like you wanna just give up.
But you gotta search within you, you gotta find that inner strength
And just pull that shit out of you and get that motivation to not give up
And not be a quitter, no matter how bad you wanna just fall flat on your face and collapse.”


*I stole the term “donter” from.the movie Pain & Gain”. “DOER” I gleaned from “doing” multi-level marketing, not once BUT TWICE! Yeah, 2xs a charm right?