The Parents Who Ruined the Easter Egg Hunt

Seriously?  WTF, people?  Pushy parents went so far at a Colorado Easter egg hunt that this year, the organizers are just cancelling it.  They don't want to deal with the annoying, asshole parents who went crazy trying stealing Easter eggs from little kids.  It's a joke, right?  Nope.  Not at all.


One asshat was quoted as saying:  "You have all these eggs just lying around and parents helping out.  You better believe I'm going to help my kid get one of those eggs.  I promised my kid an Easter egg hunt and I'd want to give him an even edge."  (This guy isn't even a father.  He took his friend's son.  I fear for the world once this guy starts procreating.)

Why I Don't Want Another Baby


I have been getting my baby fix. Years ago I gave birth to my final baby, Adolpha. (Yes, she was the last, although starting this blog almost two years ago felt a bit like giving birth and sometimes it's my favorite child, I still don't count it.)

Every now and again I get a little twinge and I realize that it's baby pains I'm feeling (and not gas pains as I had originally assumed). When I get these twinges I have to remind myself that I am 40-freaking years old and I am way too damn old to have another baby! So I take a Tums and I go on with my day.

My Rules for Playdates

My kids have reached the age now where they have playdates with their friends and classmates without anyone's mother looking over their shoulder watching.  It's awful.  Now I have to not only discipline my own kid, I have to discipline someone else's kid too.

That's assuming I'm hosting the playdate.  I feel just as bad for the mother hosting MY kid at her house.



My Pantry Makes Me Cry

For months (oh, who am I kidding? It's probably been a year now) my walk in pantry has been nagging the crap out of me. It's an absolute hole. I couldn't even get in the door to throw one more jumbo pack of spaghetti sauce in there. I'd like to blame my neglect on the fact that I've been working long hours on my next book, but it was actually a pit before I even started the manuscript.

Betty might be able to get in, but she would never be able to get out!
It all came to a head the other night when I was sitting at Gomer's soccer practice and I got a random text from a number I didn't recognize, "Hi. Can I borrow a cup of flour?" 

Sh*t Kids Say

I was reading the comments on my minivan confession and someone had the wonderful idea to keep track of shit kids say.  I believe the quote was "Between kids and old people, they say the funniest stuff."  I couldn't agree more!!  I bleeped the title so you can share easily with your Facebook and Twitter friends and not offend them too much.



So today I started making a list of things my own kids (Gomer and Adolpha) say.  Of course, they weren't their normal hilarious selves once I started keeping track.  Luckily, my friend's kids (Clarence, Boris, Malachai, Eugenie and Olympia) came to the rescue.

As always, this is a work in progress so be sure to add the sh*t you've heard kids say to the comments.

Every Move You Make. I'll Be Watching You.


We've all heard that it doesn't matter what we post on the internet, it just may come back to haunt you and yet we all continue to do it. Don't we?

I'm not talking about bloggers. I put my stuff out there because I WANT people to read it. I WANT them to be entertained by it. I'm talking about people who go to seemingly "private" places and then get caught.

I'm always amazed by the number of people who just put their dirt out there and never consider for a moment who just might see it.

Why My Children Have No Right to Privacy

My friend Kim at Let Me Start By Saying wrote an essay that was featured on the Huffington Post . It was about reading her five-year-old...