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Mommy Dearest
Mommy Dearest doesn’t have anything on this woman. (Wire hangers still make me nervous.) The children of a Nevada woman wrote a scathing obituary for their deceased mother. Basically, they are glad she is dead. The obit appeared in The Reno Gazette-Journal, which was published on September 10. Clearly, their editor was kidnapped that day. I guess my 3-year-old daughter doesn’t have “the worst mother ever” after all. Marianne Theresa Johnson-Reddick born Jan 4, 1935 and died alone on Aug. 30, 2013. She is survived by her 6 of 8 children whom she spent her lifetime torturing in every way possible. While she neglected and abused her small…
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Call me, Maybe?
So, that’s a maybe? The President of the United States gave a primetime speech to say “Maybe?” Odd. No, I am not getting all political on you. I hate politics. My husband ran for congress and it was a nightmare. I’m talking “1, 2 Freddy’s coming for you…” scary. It’s a dirty sport especially when you are not rich. Scoring $14.30 in soda cans doesn’t buy much. Well, a top local politician didn’t think he was worthy of running in the primary. Apparently, for some the whole We love the troops thing is just BS. “What have you done besides kill people?!” he screamed, spraying the room with his venomous…
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Hello, Newman
It’s quite appropriate that I would find this when cleaning out my son’s backpack this morning. If you haven’t been following along the crossing guard at my son’s school hates me. Doesn’t the Starbucks barista hate her too? Yes, there are one or two or twenty people who dislike me. Whatever. It’s not my fault. The crossing guard is becoming my “Newman.” We greet one another with a smile and suspicious glare. Our encounters have stretched beyond her crosswalk territory. On Friday I decided to take the kids for ice cream after school to celebrate their first week. I also wanted a coffee, but that wasn’t why we went.…
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Legendary dancing
A friend described my dancing at a recent party as “legendary.” Now, I’m not sure if that is a good thing. Perhaps, he thought I looked like a circus freak having a seizure. I don’t really care. If there is music playing I am moving. How on earth can you stay seated when “Jump Around” is blasting through the speakers? (Note to self: jumping around after having three kids isn’t always such a good idea) I have rhythm, but never took dance classes. I’m tall and awkward. I don’t care. I’m not dancing to win America’s votes. I like to joke around. I may even drop to the ground and…
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Mid-life crisis
I have been whining for years that I need time alone. Being the mother of three, I can rarely pee without having a conversation with a child. Mom, who would win in a fight? Batman or Wolverine? Could we have this riveting debate after I wipe my vagina? Well, I’ve finally got time to myself and I don’t know what the hell to do. This morning I sat and cried with another mother over coffee. This woman had no idea what she was getting into when she invited me. Our tearful conversation began at the cash register. The barista was training and couldn’t figure out how to key in my…
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Knock, knock
You’ve got to love those crazy Russians. When they aren’t passing ridiculous laws against the LBGT community or giving (allegedly) chemical weapons to Syria, they make funny commercials. This spot for a flat screen TV is wild. How angry would you be if you were the butt of this joke?
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Tooth fairy returns
I want to go to sleep, but I can’t. It’s my own fault. I am the moron who thought it would be a good idea to tell a tall tale. I was the one who convinced my child that a fairy will collect his teeth. It didn’t take much. Actually, I question a child’s intelligence every time I tell this lie. A fairy? Really? Really? A woman flies in your room and gives you money for your tooth? You won’t believe me when I say we are out of cookies, but this broad is legit? You aren’t questioning her sanity or mine for letting her in our house? Anyway, I…
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Hurry Up!
It’s time to slow down. I am guilty of repeatedly telling my kids to “hurry up.” In fact, I said it twice this morning. “Hurry up and get dressed.” “Hurry up and eat your breakfast.” A friend shared this article from The Huffington Post on Facebook. (Yes, old folks haven’t made the transition to Instagram and still use The Facebook.) It literally brought me to tears. Then again, these days I cry when we run out of ketchup. (Hormones + Baby starting pre-school = emotional wreck) Here is an excerpt of the article: The Day I Stopped Saying ‘Hurry Up’ Rachel Macy Stafford When you’re living a distracted life, every…
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Sheep Protest
I find many protests laughable. I covered my fair share while working in local news. It’s the same group of people at every one. I don’t know if they are passionate about the cause or just unemployed. If you want to make a difference donate to a charity or volunteer. Besides, do you really think holding a poorly made sign on a street corner is going to convince the President of the United States to end a war? I’m just sayin… This protest really made me chuckle:
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Hate Mail
This letter should surprise me. It doesn’t. People can be incredibly ignorant. It was mailed to the grandmother of a child named Max, 13, who is Autistic. Read it and we’ll talk: Can you believe this? Max’s mother Karla Begley says her son stays with his grandmother in the morning during the summer. Apparently Satan lives in grandma’s neighborhood. Who else would tell a parent to euthanize a child? They reside in Canada, but must have kin in the United States. I have witnessed people mocking a child with Autism. A mother (or father) dies a little inside with each snicker or stare. She wishes her child would play with…