You made it! Here it is... the blog where you get to sit back and laugh at - or be completely horrified by - life with 5 kids, 2 parents, some frogs, a cat & a rabbit (and those are just the creatures we know about).


Be Afraid. Be Very Afraid.

My kids run my life. LIke when they barge into my room in the morning, take up precious real estate in my bed, and then insist on watching "kid TV." Yes, child, come on in. Please put your knee in my back. And whatever you do, make sure I never watch the news. I shouldn't know what's going on in this world when there are creepy babies teaching us how to dance on Disney Junior. 

I just talked about this recently. Maybe I should take my own advice. Or maybe my "Tuesday's Tips" are for you. Learn from my mistakes. I'm already a lost cause. These shows are so weird. And possibly tied to an imminent toddler uprising. I'm sure my kids are getting some kind of subliminal message from them on how to overthrow the parents. Why else would these normally intelligent children go completely slack-jawed when oddly animated babies start dancing?

Cute or Creepy? It's a fine line.
I'm not sure what's more disturbing, the cut & pasted baby heads or the high-pitched male voice-over guy saying, "Look. It's Sophie's bottom."
Sophie's bottom.
So, instead of catching the latest headlines or a bit of national news, I'm learning how to "dance silly" by a couple of baby heads pasted on little dancing bodies. And contributing to my own future demise when my children declare the mutiny for which these creepy babies are surely preparing them.
Dancing creepy babies.
Don't mind me. I'll just be sitting on my ass doing some silly dancing. If you can't beat them, join them?

HEY! If you enjoy the blog, why not become a follower? I'm the one who's afraid of dancing babies. You can also stalk find me on Facebook and TwitterLike the page and follow me!

**And be sure to visit my Zazzle store. Don't you need a new coffee mug or apron?

Have a good story to share about strange children's television shows? Feel free to share in the comments!


A New One

Just about two years ago (wow!), I started this blog with my very first post about my least favorite question: Are they all yours?

In that post, I discussed the fact that the question itself isn't offensive, but the tone with which it is delivered usually is. Luckily, the general masses never cease to surprise me with their idiocy or rudeness. At least once a week someone queries about my giant brood of children. I'm not sure why, but I always try to answer as politely as possible. Maybe I'm trying to set a good example for my children. Or maybe, I'm afraid if I bust out some snappy retort it will be laced with the built up profanity of years of fielding these inane questions. Here are some of my favorite and most frequent questions. I've also given my answers (with what I'd really like to say in parentheses).

Are they all yours? (Be sure to make crazy ugly faces while you say this.)
Yes, they're all mine. (Seriously, why in the world would I drag someone else's kids to BJ's for 87 rolls of toilet paper?)

Are there any twins in the bunch? (Meaning: There's no way you could have possibly meant to have kids less than two years apart.)
No, there are no twins in the bunch. (Did you want to see their birth certificates for confirmation?)

Wow. You must be busy. (There's usually some eyebrow waggling here. I'm not sure if they're offended by my number of kids or my sex life.)
Yes, I am busy. (Did you want to give me a hand? No? Okay, then shut up.)

Do you know where babies come from? (Hey, dummy, stop having unprotected sex.)
Um, I think so. (Did you want me to discuss the how and when of each conception? Or do you really want me to start telling you my five birth stories? I'd be happy to go into graphic detail you f'ing moron. Because, much to my surprise, there was no freaking stork involved.)

Better you than me.
Indeed. (Seriously, no shit.)

The other day, though, I got a new question. I haven't had a new one in a while, so it was a real treat.

The kids and I were walking in the arboretum. We were on our way to the top of the big hill. Everyone was getting a little tired, but behaving wonderfully. (I swear, these people never question me on those occasions when someone is acting up. It's when the kids are bordering on perfect angels that some ass feels compelled to approach me. Illogical.) It was such a nice way to enjoy nature and get a some exercise at the same time. As we were heading up the hill, a young woman, maybe in her late 20s or early 30s, was walking her dog down the hill. She stopped to let Charlotte (who was bringing up the rear of our little hike) pet her tiny dog. Charlotte thanked her for stopping when, out of the blue, the woman looked at me and said, "How do you do it with all of these kids? JEEEEESUS!" I wish there were a proper font to convey how she said "Jesus" to me. It was drawn-out and ugly. She was clearly deeply offended. Luckily, the rude responses never occur to me until later because all I said was, "Well, it's always interesting."

I wish I'd asked her how she does it with that ugly face and attitude. Or why she has to be such an asshole while she shouts "JEEESUS" in front of my little Catholic school kids. I just turned to Patrick and said, "Well, that was a new one." Even at the age of 9 he's well aware that we draw a lot of attention. (He was, after all, the one who pointed out the lady who kept counting the kids in spanish a few years ago. Yes, lady, cinco. Tengo cinco niños.)

Anyway... here we go. It's the summer, so I'll be spending most of my time out in public with my 87 5 kids. Be sure to point and stare. Apparently, we're quite a spectacle. Just be careful what you say. I'm sure to run out of polite responses soon.
Yes, there are indeed 5 of them. And a dog. JEEEEESUS!

Thanks to my Twitter and Facebook peeps for arming me with an arsenal of comical and sarcastic responses to the morons who question me. I'm going to put them on little notecards so I can have them for handy reference the next time some fool approaches.

HEY! If you enjoy the blog, why not become a follower? I'm the one who's getting tired of being polite. You can also stalk find me on Facebook and TwitterLike the page and follow me!

**And be sure to visit my Zazzle store. Don't you need a new coffee mug or apron?

Have a good story to share about an obnoxious stranger? Feel free to share in the comments!


I Could Never Be This Dedicated

Two weeks ago, I decided to treat myself to a latte from Starbucks. I had a gift card and decided I had enough time to swing by the "drive-thru" in my town before work.

I pulled up at the speaker and expected the same apathetic greeting I normally get at any fast food drive-thru. I was so shocked by what came out of the speaker that I couldn't even order. The guy had this awesome radio personality voice and a big long greeting that was such a surprise that I started laughing and couldn't order. Once I had composed myself, I ordered a Venti iced latte with an extra shot. (Because caffeine is my drug of choice.)

When I pulled up to the window, the guy - let's call him Billy because I totally forget his name - handed me my drink and encouraged me to have a terrific day with his high-energy radio voice. I could never have that much enthusiasm that early in the morning. 

I drove off with my latte and a big smile since that was just the funniest experience I'd ever had at a drive-thru. Or at least, that's what I thought. I didn't know it was about to get funnier. I happened to glance in my rear view mirror as I was cruising away from the parking lot. There in my mirror, jumping up and down and waving his arms like a lunatic, was Billy. I stopped the car because I had no idea what was going on and before I could even back up, Billy proceeded to run full-tilt toward me. As I was watching all of this in my mirror, it became a slow-motion scene from a movie. I'm pretty sure I heard the Chariots of Fire song as he ran all the way across the parking lot (dramatically ripping off his headset along the way). 

He got to my window, all out of breath, and said, "That's not your drink!" I told him I hadn't touched it yet. He was so concerned that I was about to drink the wrong drink that I was pretty sure it was a cup of acid. He told me to drive back through so he could give me the right drink. As I was turning my car around, Billy sprinted back across the parking lot with his headset in one hand and the wrong drink in the other. He was about to turn into the back door of Starbucks when he completely wiped out. I mean really. The poor thing hit the deck. But, he sprang right back up and ran inside.

When I got back to the window, I told him I was sorry he had to run after me. (I politely didn't mention that I saw the poor guy wipeout in the parking lot.) He kept apologizing for almost giving me the cup of acid wrong drink and even gave me a coupon to come back for a free beverage. I felt like I should've given him some kind of coupon for sprinting after my car and then falling down in the parking lot. As I came out of the drive-thru to the spot where he fell, I saw the whole latte (all 20 ounces of espresso, milk, and ice) splattered all over the place. Poor Billy.

There are days, when I have to bust out an extra shot latte just to walk in the door at work. I feel like there should be awards for people like Billy who are so dedicated that they throw themselves all over parking lots just to keep coffee addicts like myself happy. That's some dedication.

Mmmm... that's the good stuff right there.

Ever have an awesome person wait on you? 

HEY! If you enjoy the blog, why not become a follower? I'm the one who's in need of a latte. You can also stalk find me on Facebook and TwitterLike the page and follow me!

**And be sure to visit my Zazzle store. Don't you need a new coffee mug or apron?



Tuesday's Tip (#35)

Here's a tip for you:

Don't try too hard.

I just told the kids when they got up that we were going to the zoo today. I thought they'd be pretty excited that we had plans for the day. I was met with, "Meh," "No," and "Can't we just stay home?" And when I said that we were still going, Sophie informed me that she's just staying home with the dog.

Seriously, fools? By 11 am you'll all be bored and asking me what there is to do. I'm no dummy. And this isn't a democracy. The tyrant mom has spoken.

I'm going to wear you people out at the zoo whether you like it or not and then you can lounge around the house all afternoon. 

Wish me luck.

Have a tip to share? Or some sense to knock into my kids? Feel free to leave a comment below...

...& be sure to check back every Tuesday for a new tip!