Category Archives: I don't know how to end a blog post

I Suspect the Kids Might Actually Be Doing These Things On Purpose


Probably the last thing I'll ever see.

Sometimes I get the unnerving feeling that my kids are out to get me.

Not the usual my kids are sucking the marrow from my bones and I have not one iota of energy or sense of self left to keep me alive type of getting me.

This is malice aforethought.

I’ll site you some random examples from the last few days.

1) When a pollster for Adrian Fenty arrived at my door to ask me if he could count on my support during the upcoming election, I felt a gentle shove from behind pushing me over the threshold onto the front porch. Then I heard the distinct dreaded sound of the door locking behind me. No matter how hard I smashed on the windows or how loud I screamed, I wasn’t getting in.

2) They spent the better part of an hour-long road trip  throwing dangerous projectiles inside the car. Several times I thought they had enough velocity to smash out the front windshield. After a dressing down they decided to make the sound of the little boy from The Grudge for the rest of the ride fraying what was left of my two very unstable nerves.

3) My boys were playing whack a mole with bowling pins and various household objects until we refocused them on something less destructive where they sent a small furry stuffed animal back and forth on the floor. Much better right?


They decided this furry mammal was a beaver and kept smashing it with the bowling pins screaming “BEAVER SHOT!” at the top of their lungs. My husband and I were paralyzed with fear unsure if we were being baited or if it really was an innocent mistake.



Filed under afternoon time wasters, am I doing anything right?, bad parenting, I don't know how to end a blog post, i don't like mondays, I have 3, i love kids, I REALLY DO, il duce is five, interesting things I saw today, kids, kids and parenting, kids growing up, kids that don't fit the mold, kids that like cursewords, kids with potty mouth, monday blahs

Things are Not as They Appear.

This Sunday I had myself a true Judas Iscariot moment.

I denied knowing my own children at the grocery store.

Then I stopped after reading that last line and asked myself  “Hey girl who spent her whole life chained to a pew in parochial school! WHO was it now that denied Jesus three times?” “Why YES you moron that would be Peter.”

Judas sounds so much more theatrical though, so I’m keeping it even thought it is not historically accurate.

While waiting patiently in the checkout line my two boys began to act a little squirrely.

They were redirected to the front of the store near the exits brought there by my beleaguered mother who was lacking her usual sharp tongue and was hanging there like a limp dishrag due to a debilitating migraine.

 This means that the boys were running in circles, screaming about having a girlfriend, punching each other, jumping off the bench my mother was passing out on, smashing the video machine with the dollar rentals and accosting the automatic lotto dispenser.

Two über uptight couples with pursed thin lips were starting to shake their heads in disbelief and exchanging disgusted looks with each other at the volume and sheer audacity of the two unruly boys and their comatose caretaker.

“So rude and disrespectful” noted one.

“Why isn’t she doing anything to control them?” asked the other.

Then Il Duce let loose with a rank profanity followed by a roaring hysterical cackle and I watched them gasp with horror.

They were truly disgusted.

“CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT?!” they croaked, looking at me.

I thought for a moment. There were thousands of ways I could go here but I opted for betrayal.

“I know!” I commiserated, as I lugged the rest of my fresh produce onto the belt.

I didn’t feel nearly as bad as I know I should have but it was just so much easier to cut and run regarding knowing this lot than to try to explain them to someone who wouldn’t care.

After scooping my mother up off the bench and driving her back home so she could suffer her mind exploding agony alone on her couch I spoke briefly to the boys about minding their behavior in public. But my pleas fell on deaf ears as they were both fast asleep in the back.


Filed under 1, adversity, am I doing anything right?, bad manners, bad parenting, being shallow and crass, boys with serious attitude, buffoonery, can I have a normal day, cowards, crazy ramblings, disasters, discipline, giving up, I complain too much, I don't know how to end a blog post, i don't like mondays, i love kids, I REALLY DO, I'm not as effective in a bad situation as I thought I would be, kids, kids and parenting, kids that like cursewords, random observations

Child With the Annoying Voice

It's true!

Everybody loves kids right?

 I mean they are sweet, innocent , endearing and wonderous.

Only a  terminal asshole would fail to see the beauty in every precious little moment and treasure it.


Except…what is that sound?

The nasal caterwauling that sounds like a combination of someone shaking an injured hawk and declawing a cat?

 Is that even human?

Is that……….a child’s voice?

Okay, strike me down now but it was unbearable. I kept having to wrinkle my forehead (something my derm has told me in no uncertain terms NOT to do to remain youthful) and squint my eyes to ward it off.

 Why I wasn’t covering my ears instead remains a mystery but I found myself temporarily confused and upset at the sound with no proper ideas on how to make it stop.

After recovering from being completely askew I took a moment to marvel at what an oddity it was.

Sickly sweet with cold metallic elements that grated on your nerves like steel on a chalkboard.

I kept tossing furtive glances over at the roll of duct tape I keep handy for emergencies but thought about that lawsuit and subsequent human element piece that would appear on later during the trial.

The tale of the  horrible woman who taped the mouth of a small child while others watched.

That is just not how I want to be remembered people.


Filed under 1, bad manners, bad moods, bad parenting, being shallow and crass, crazy ramblings, I complain too much, I don't know how to end a blog post, I have 3, I shouldn't be so cranky, I'll try to be nicer, kids, kids and parenting, kids voices, random observations

Shitty Behavior Swat Team

We TOLD you the express lane was for people with fewer than 10 items. Now we have to kill you.

Lately I’ve been pondering exactly how many professions are based solely on behavior modification for kids.

There’s the cognitive therapist, the behaviorist, the OT, the PT the Psychiatrist, the developmental pediatrician and the good old-fashioned nun with a wooden paddle.

What if there were a team of experts who could swoop down every time a grownup got out of line?

Just the other day some guy called me a fucking moron while I was waiting patiently for a parking spot at my local grocery store. My immediate reaction was to attempt a retaliatory middle finger and a nasty sneer but I actually stopped myself and envisioned a world where armed soldiers fell from the sky to deal with malcontents like this.

With weapons drawn and lifeless eyes hidden behind reflective sunglasses they would dispose of this impatient seething driver grabbing him up with stealth and precision never to be heard from again. When I envisioned the agony that was his as a result of his mistake, a crooked  smile lit up my face.

Then I pictured legions of do good enforcers shouldering high-capacity fire arms in a variety of everyday case scenarios.  The tailgater, the unresponsive customer service representative, the bill collector who can’t pronounce my fairly simple name, the parent whose kid threatened to kill my kid with a home fashioned crossbow but thinks my kid needs therapy.


Grabbed up quietly without any fuss.

There would also be a special intervention for Sting, Stewart Copeland and Andy Summers. A team of large persuasive men could help them move past the hurdles that have put The Police on permanent hiatus without proper explanation and re-do the 07-08 reunion tour for those of us who had to miss it.

But then, as always, the joy began to fade.

I got an unnerving visual of me being sent a warning note as I tried to swig milk directly out of the carton while standing in front of the fridge.

Then I remembered that brief period of time I spent  selling knock off perfumes door to door. If that wasn’t annoying enough our pyramid scheme supervising adult decided that we should be sent into the red-eye district to pimp bad product to strippers and drug dealers. There would certainly have been some sort of repercussions for those dark days.

What about the time I left my boyfriend for the cuter, taller guy that could grow a beard?  Disemboweled? Firing squad?

How about when I  ask my husband “what’s that?” every time he says something from the other room even if I can really hear him most of the time?

I would most certainly get a talking to about the blog post I just put up five minutes ago where I whined like a thankless jerk about my “too small” house and my happy active kids. God, I’m an asshole.  I hope they fucking waterboard me for that one.

So look at that. In what appears to be a recurring theme I start out talking about how other people suck and then realize that I am far worse than those I complain about. I need to get a new shtick.


Filed under 1, I don't know how to end a blog post, I shouldn't be so cranky, I'm worse than everybody, my behavior is apalling, swat teams