Egg on his face

…and today’s award for Worst Mother Ever goes to the woman in this video. After she finished her second pack of cigarettes Mom decided to pull a prank on her son. She tricks the poor kid into cracking an egg over his head. What a waste. She could have made a small omelette to feed her malnourished children. I think Sally Struthers needs to pay Mommy Dearest a visit. Don’t get me wrong, I mock my kids like all good mothers do. However, this video makes me sad. What’s the point? Your video wasn’t even shot properly. For the love of God, shoot with the phone camera horizontal!

I have so many questions after watching this video. Does this woman own a mop? Where are his little brother’s clothes? Maybe Mom could buy Jimmy a pair of pants if she wasn’t wasting money on props. The joke is on this wanna be comedian. Mom is usually the one left to clean up the mess.

Care package

I apologize to all three people who sat with bated breath, waiting to read today’s blog post. I was in a miserable mood this morning. Actually, I was sad. Can I admit that without being labeled crazy? Well, I am, but that’s between me and my therapist.

I told you recently about my friend who lost her sweet baby girl. Grace died after surgery, complications from CDH. She would have been 18-months-old today.

I decided to drop off a package of goodies for my friend. I realize there is nothing I can do to ease the pain, but I could try to brighten her day. I packed cookies, snacks, magazines, zucchini, a picture of Ryan Gosling and left the box on her doorstep. As I drove away, panic set in. What if her husband found the box first? Zucchini? Ryan Gosling? Oh, shit, that doesn’t seem appropriate. My intentions were good. The zucchini is our little inside joke. I tease her for bringing the same zucchini dish to every event. I suppose some people enjoy it. In case you haven’t noticed, I happen to be obsessed with Ryan Gosling. In my opinion, his photo is like a ray of sunshine. (Did I just sound like a stalker?) Well, it was too late, I couldn’t go back. With my luck, it would turn into a Seinfeld episode. A neighbor would see me rifling through the box and call police. I would have to explain to the officer why I was stealing zucchini. I opted to leave and explain later.

I picked the kids up from school and went home. There was a package and other mail on my doorstep. Among the pile of bills was a newsletter from a local children’s hospital. I flipped through the pages and discovered a story about Grace. Her parents helped raise a lot of money for the hospital. They hoped to have a room in the new wing named after Grace. It was going to happen. I smiled thinking of how many lives Grace touched. I guess you don’t need Ryan Gosling after all. Remembering “Amazing Grace” is enough to brighten any day.

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She is sick. Run!

My children are going through withdrawal. I didn’t take away potato chips or candy. Their video game consoles are still intact. Geez, I am not a monster. I took away their grandparents. It had to be done. My mother has the flu. Of course, I am concerned about her well being. This woman gave birth to me. She is my best friend. However, I will admit the first thing that came to mind was “I hope the kids don’t get it.” I can take a cough. There is medicine to treat a fever. I can’t deal with three kids projectile vomiting. God created the vomit virus so the world wasn’t full of Duggar families. It’s birth control.

I have become the person who hears a sneeze or cough and dives for cover like a soldier in combat. I was at the library last week and overheard a mother say, “Well, he has a cold.” I picked up my daughter and power walked out of there. Why the F*** are you at the library. Yes, there are probably more germs on the books than in a bowl of bar nuts. However, I don’t need your kid hacking on mine. Here is the thing about the library, they will let you borrow the books. I know, it is crazy! So, take your kid home and read.

My children see my parents everyday. My Mom called tonight, “I miss my grandbabies.” It has only been 48 hours since we were last at their house. The truth is my kids miss them too, but right now it is every man for himself. Grandma will have to wait until she is healthy.

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