Category Archives: parenting

A Conversation to Rival Porky’s Revenge

Am I a Bored Housewife or 14 Year Old Boy? Yesterday, my bestie texted to alert me that I should stop by because there was a hot guy in her yard. Like he was some majestic animal that had just wandered in, and I should see the glory of nature. I imagined him grazing … and flexing (there was lots of flexing).

What is it about being married over a decade that makes seeing a hot guy something worth notifying others about?

Susan: No, he’s here fixing a leak in the pool with another guy, who may or may not be hot, can’t tell.

Me: Ooh, one for each. (Yes, that was the first thing I thought because I’m sick! Also, the last time someone called me to come check out a hot guy, I was probably going through puberty and it was important to make sure their were enough hotties to do around).

Susan: Will you just come by?

Me: You’re leaving at 3 and I can’t be “hot guy” presentable before that.

(Yes, we mature women know what hot guy presentable is… it’s cute enough that you’ll got looked at like a MILF rather than a Ma’am.)

Susan: Listen, my hair air-dryed today, so I’m already at a disadvantage. I knew I shouldn’t have rushed out to get groceries so my family could eat this week. — Do you think it would be weird if I went and blew it out?

Me: No that would be totally normal, you should walk back out in short shorts, full makeup and a blow-out. This is like when Claire changed into skinny jeans and a low cut top while waiting for the hot Firemen to arrive as Phil writhed in pain.

Susan: That wouldn’t be beneath me.

Me: Please, I called the fire department last month because I felt a hot spot in my wall. Don’t think I wasn’t wearing lip-gloss and workout gear when they arrived.

Susan: Am I setting an odd example for my children by taking pictures of these men through the window?

Me: Tell them you’re documenting their progress … that makes you a vigilant consumer.

Susan: Can I bring them lemonade?

Me: Sure, you’re just being a thoughtful homeowner.

Then Susan sent pics of the two hotties and after I berated her for not getting better shots we texted stuff that would rival a couple of over-sexed (under-sexed) teens in Porky’s I, II, even Porky’s Revenge.

Shameful things that gave us too big of a chuckle. Things about springing leaks and plugging them … I think you get the picture.

HOLY SHIT!!! We’re either cliche bored housewives or 14 year old boys. Frankly, I’m beginning to think they’re the same thing. I mean, both use sexual innuendo in text and would be willing to take time out of the day just to stare at hotties and would say things that make a highschool girl blush. Well, a highschool girl in my day, that is.

Fuck, tomorrow I’m totally pretending to be sick before gym class!

susans workmen

Now, let’s analyze ladies. 1. I need to see the eyes!!! 2. Odd position for the second guy, but notice the lack of plumbers crack? 3. Why are their shirts on? 4. Why are their pants on???

If our men only knew that our convos could put theirs to shame!

You Know You’re The Mom of a Girl IF …

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You Know You're the Mom of a Girl IF...

While writing a piece on translating “Momisms” into what we really mean, I realized there are some commonalities among moms of each sex that bond us together. Of course every child is different, but if you’re the mom of a girl, I’m guessing some of these will sound all too familiar.

You Know You’re the Mom of a Girl IF…

1. You do more pretend cooking in a miniature kitchen than you do actual cooking in the full sized one (and frankly, you’re not sure which tastes better).

2. You secretly wish there was some mommy competition involving your child’s trendy crafts because you’re a freakin’ whiz on the Rainbow Loom, you make a mean potholder, and you’re not so bad with a spool of gimp ahem, lanyard.

3. You find yourself searching “How to Do a Fishtail Braid” on YouTube.

4. You wonder how young is too young to start plucking her eyebrows?

5. You have the ability to turn a field day/camp tee into an off the shoulder, bedazzled, designer dud in the time it would take a child to throw a “fashion tantrum.”

6. You understood what I meant when I coined the term “fashion tantrum.”

7. You find yourself playing with pretty much the same toys you played with when you were little, only the slutted-up versions. (See Polly Pocket, Rainbow Brite, and Strawberrry Shortcake.)

8. A dance party, song fest, or drawing competition may be impromptu … but it’s never unexpected.

9. Somehow you always get to be the ugly, ratty Barbie with the hair plugs showing from a haircut gone awry, and the one hand that’s been chewed off by the dog.

10. Your coveted jewelry, handbags, and heels have become someone else’s playthings.

11. You know from Furby and Fijit Friends.

12. There’s a creepy-ass Lalaloopsy doll staring at you with those “Coraline” button eyes that you’re pretty sure comes to life when you sleep.

13. Dealing with a monumental breakdown over the over the tag in a shirt, the seam on the sock, or the color of a pair of undies seems totally normal (see fashion tantrum).

14. You know the one rule about stuffed animals: One Can Never Have Too Many of Them!

15. That chick’s got an at-ti-tude and you know exactly where she got it from, though you won’t admit it.

16. You probably have a sticker or something shimmery stuck to you right now.

17. Your make-believe life is way more exiting than your actual life.

18. Glitter to a girl is like the Windex in My Big Fat Greek Wedding … it cures everything… at the very least it makes it more tolerable.

19. You are willing to accept a severely sub par mani-pedi or 3 (in a row) because your child has set up a salon and you’re the only one dumb enough to show up for your appointment.

20. It looks like the Disney Princesses threw up in your car.

21. You haven’t heard your actual name the entire day, but you’ve been beckoned relentlessly.

22. You know a female wears the pants in your family (you just didn’t think they’d be a size 3T).

23. You fear the day she gets her period because it sometimes seem like she has PMS already.

24. Lying is always an option as in … “I’m sorry, they stopped selling Bratz dolls.” “I love the outfit you put together yourself… stripes and zig-zag look great together.” and “Yes, you do sound like Beyonce when you sing.”

25. You can’t wait until she’s old enough to watch Grease, Xanadu, Clueless, or anything by John Hughes.

26. The term rainbow-unicorn can answer almost any question. How do you want to decorate your room? What’s your favorite color? What do you want to be when you grow up?

27. ANYTHING can be over-dramatized… a trip to Target feels like a Spanish soap opera.

28. There’s a My Little Pony in your purse.

29. You hope to one day share a “Best Friends” charm.

30. You’ve made yourself an amazing companion (attitude and all) that’s redefined the magnitude of love you ever thought you had to give.

PS – I know they’re not all girly girls… If you have a daughter (like mine) who’s got a little tomboy in her too, check out “You Know You’re the Mom of A Boy IF…” you’ll be shocked how many ring true, as well.

BE AWESOME, SHARE THIS WITH OTHER MOMS

BE AWESOMER, TELL MY DAUGHTER TO GIVE ME ONE OF THE CUTE BARBIES SOMETIME

25 Signs That You Are Definitely a Mom

You Know You’re the Mom of a Boy IF …

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You Know You're the Mom of a Boy IF...

While writing a piece on translating “Momisms” into what we really mean, I realized there are some commonalities among moms of each sex that bond us together. Of course every child is different, but if you’re the mom of a boy, I’m guessing some of these will sound (and smell) all too familiar.

You know you’re the mom of a boy if …

You find yourself holding a living creature that you would usually run away from screaming.
A girl makes eyes at your son and you have this weird urge to pull her aside and call her a “slut” (whether she’s 6 or 16).
You have an unhealthy knowledge of the point/gem system for Temple Run, Dragonvale, Bakugan, Plants vs. Zombies, Cube Runner …
You can’t muster the brain power to recall what you ate for breakfast, yet you can inherently transform a Transformer (without the 30 pages of directions it came with).
You bought a car based solely on how much equipment you could fit in the trunk.
Your child asks you to marry him and you’re totally considering it.
You know what a Ripstik is and you’re not afraid to use it.
You spend much of your days in a fog of fart odor and some of it is proudly yours. (What? How else can you impress your male offspring?)
A little penis seems to be constantly whizzing by (well, let’s hope that’s your sons).
You’ve actually placed yourself under a tree with the feeling that, if that kiddo loses footing you’ll at least be there to break his fall.
You know the pain of stepping on a Lego … and may in fact, have one imbedded somewhere in your body right now.
There’s a finger in your eye, your ear, or up your nose and it’s not yours.
You understand what I mean when I say “bleacher butt,” as in, “My sits bones are literally numb, I have bleacher butt.”
There’s a rogue Bey Blade in your purse.
You’ve found yourself saying things like, “No, you can’t ride the dog.” and “Yes, you do have to keep your pants on in public.”
You’ve had in depth conversations about who would win in multiple variations of match-ups involving Spider-Man, Iron Man, Captain America, X-Men, Daddy …
You can’t wait until he’s old enough to watch Airplane, The Naked Gun, Caddy Shack, Vacation, Fletch, The Three Amigos…
Though you claim to be an absolute pacifist, you’ve had a talk that involved you urging, “Sometimes you gotta push back.”
You’ve considered leashing your son at a theme park and he’s 12.
You’re on a first name basis with the orderlies at the ER who provide slings, splints, casts, and those velcro boots.
You may have shamefully thought, “It wouldn’t be so bad if he married an orphan.”
There’s a finger in your eye, your ear, or up your nose and it’s not yours.
At some point you notice the change in smell from “OMG sooo sweet” to “Get that tween some AXE.”
You can use your keyboard, phone, iPad, but there’s a good chance your fingers will get stuck to it.
There’s a love you feel for your son that’s too great and sometimes too scary to fully explain or even comprehend.

HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY to the women who got a gulp when their babies were born — thinking One day they might leave you for another woman!!!

XO – Jenny From the Blog (Look for the piece: “You Know You’re the Mom of A Girl If…”)

BE AWESOME, SHARE THIS WITH OTHER MOMS

BE AWESOMER, COME GET THOSE RED CLAY STAINS OUT OF MY SON’S BASEBALL PANTS

25 Signs You are Definitely a Mom

20 Momisms Translated

Moms of Boys Are Jealous Shrews

May The Shmoozee Be With You

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Screen Shot 2013-04-29 at 7.59.04 AM OK, I was hired to make a sample video for a contest for SHMOOZEES. Yes, I rarely do this stuff, but my daughter kinda loves them … as she does any as seen on TV item. See: the Big Top Cupcake, Pillow Pets, Pajama Jeans … Seriously, for about a year of my life, I had to explain to her that we would NOT be able to wear matching Pajama Jeans to her class party and that neither the Buxton Over-The-Shoulder-Organizer nor the Aluma Wallet were my kinda THANG.

Though she frequently reminded me that the Buxton is “genuWINE” leather and the comfortable strap can be adjusted for maximum mobility. Plus, she’s pointed out that the Aluma wallet is virtually indestructible, “you could even run over it with a car, mom!” Which I guess is a good point? I mean if I had a dollar for every time I inadvertently ran my wallet over with my car, well, let’s just say I wouldn’t be taking jobs to make sample videos, duh.

So, all that said, here is the video. I was not paid to put it up on my site I’m just doing it because, I actually enjoyed making it and I think it turned out somewhere between cringe-worthy and giggle- worthy, which is my favorite point in the humor spectrum. ENJOY May the SHMOOZEE Be With You.

If you want to know more about the contest and prizes click here.

50 Like Totally Random Things I Remember as a Child of Like The 80s

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After writing a recent post on 15 things I’d never know if I weren’t a Gen Xer, I came to realize that I’m some kind of Generation X genius. I mean, I could be the “Rain Man” of the Gen X set. Seriously, throw some quotes on the floor, I’ll tell you who said them. OK, that test may not work as well as it does with toothpicks in the movie.

But I now see that I’m somewhat stuck in the ’80s, and I kinda like it there. So I thought I’d share some of the most random stuff I remember as a Gen X poster child.

1. Being on a wait list for a Cabbage Patch Kid and not even being able to pick the one you wanted (bonus points if you remember its name — mine was Mitzy Shirley and she had the dreaded short curly hair).

2. Jumping on the eyes of the alligator with Pit Fall Harry.

3. Thinking Flash Gordon had the best special effects ever.

4. That coffee-flavored sucking candy all elderly people had (before anything coffee flavored was cool).

5. The random Super Friends like the Apache Chief, Gleek, and Samurai.

6. Screaming, “Oh my God, the girl in Sleepaway Camp has a penis!” Continue reading →

Holy Crap My Eyelids Don’t Match Anymore and Other Aging Revelations

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Holy Crap, My Eyelids Don't Match Anymore and Other Annoying Aging Revelations #humor #aging #antiaging #insanity

Yesterday, as I dropped the carpool off at Susan’s house, she ran to the car in a flurry (and trust me, Susan doesn’t usually flurry).

Me: What’s up, did I run over your dog?

Susan all air traffic control arms swinging.

Susan: You have to look at something.

Now the last time she said that all arm swingy it was to watch ducks having non-consensual sex (and I’m not kidding about that, it’s one of my favorite pieces).

Me: No duck sex!

Susan: What? No, it’s not even mating season, duh! You have to look at my eyes, holy shit they don’t match! Stare at them and tell me what is different.

So I stared at them like I was looking at a Highlights magazine and found the differences between the two. Continue reading →

Push LIKE if You Have Skin – Plus 10 More Desperate FB Page Ideas

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So sad he had to be shamed in public that way, but they moved the sofa and this is what they found. He's one sick puppy!

So sad she had to be shamed in public that way, but they moved the sofa and this is what they found. She’s one sick puppy! (From MyDumbDogs.wordpress.com)

Yesterday, I saw an ad in the sidebar of facebook for a page called “I Love My Children.” It simply read: “Push LIKE if you love your children.” What’s crazier is that 5 of my friends had already “LIKED” said page (you know how it shows you that too?).

Wow, ladies you LOVE your children? No way! I can’t even wrap my head around it because you totally seemed like the types to down right hate your children, but then you went and pushed that button and now I’m all, “Maybe I misjudged you.” “Maybe you’re the best moms, like ever!” “Maybe you could watch mine sometime.” Then of course it dawned on me how very many of you so called friends of mine clearly DO NOT love your children which you made abundantly clear by NOT pushing “like”!

PS – To my mom and dad (who are on FB): I knew it! Don’t expect calls on your birthdays either … a-holes.

Is it just me or has the social networking world has gone bat shit crazy! Continue reading →

What’s Worse Than Your 8yo Telling You That You Look Like a Hooker? When She’s Right

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Did my 8 year old just tell me I look like a hooker? And Worse, is she right?

After seeing this pic of the night, I’m thinkin’ she’s a wise wise 8 year old!

I was getting ready to go out for my birthday, a night I think we can all agree warrants a little more bling than the other 364 days of the year, when my 8-year-old daughter walked into my closet.

“Mommy, you look snazzy!”

“Snazzy, huh? That’s a good word. I feel snazzy.”

G-d, that kid is cute, I thought to myself, as I slipped on my snazzy stilettos.

“Yeah, Mom, you look like a hooker!”

Here’s where you should insert the sound effect of a record being scratched to a halt, in the middle of a beautiful ballad.

“I’m sorry, what?” Continue reading →

Only in Florida People – Only in Florida

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We Floridians are somewhat the butt of a running joke that the random, dangerous, and ass backwards things seem to happen here. Unfortunately, we tend to live up to this stereotype by constantly proving it true. People wonder why I’m such a neurotic mother and I’m beginning to wonder if my locale doesn’t have a smidgen to do with it.

For instance, it’s tough to deny that we live among some crazy prehistoric animals. From those massive dragon flies to the gators I’ve spotted around my lake doing their best George Hamilton impressions (did that reference age me?), to the panthers, to the poisonous frogs (Florida imported to kill our insect problem, which ended up killing peoples pets -great idea, Florida). I’ve seen mosquitos the size of a house cat and ominous turkey buzzards that make me shake in fear. Continue reading →

What’s a Little Peeing in Your Pants Between Friends?

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What's a Little Peeing in Your Pants Between Friends? “Well, Jenny cough again but harder this time,” said Dr. Pollen from her cushy position directly underneath me and looking up into my nether regions. How did the doctor get such a view, you ask? I was on a special type of birthing chair (one that was probably used in the 1600s as they inquired as to whether you were a witch). Not only was there barely any seat to hold me up, I was hoisted about 6ft in the air, so that the doctor’s assistants (or people with weird fetishes who pay to be called doctor’s assistants, as I like to call them) were looking my vajajay dead in the eye, ahem, the labia. The doctor then sat on her stool and literally rolled underneath me as if she was checking out my chassis. Which makes sense because she did mention the need for a tune up.

Why would one sit on such a chair without being dared or paid? Because apparently I have all kinds of prolapse (that’s stuff caving in and falling down, to you and me) and I’ve been totes ignoring my pelvic floor, which is weird because I’m pretty good about taking care of my floors … waxing the wood ones, cleaning the grout on the stone… Actually I do have a cleaning person, so it would’ve been weird to ask her to attend to my pelvic floor after say, vacuuming. Apparently, I’m not the only one who’s let their pelvic floor slip through the cracks. Google says 40% of women are found to have stage II or greater prolapse upon pelvic exam. I read it on the internet people, so it must be true.

And yet, no one seems to discuss it. So, I am because A. “Vagina” is my favorite word to work into random conversation B. Doctors like to treat this issue with hysterectomies, which may not be necessary. C. If I pee on the floor while we’re having a conversation, you’ll already know why and we can just gloss over it and move on to the next topic. Continue reading →

The Most Annoying Things About Air Travel – A Nervous Flyer’s List

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The Most Annoying Things About Air Travel - a Nervous Flyer's List I recently flew an airline with “open seating.” Which basically means you get an assigned boarding number (like at a deli counter), and you must fend for yourself and your family from there.

As I walked the aisle, I quickly assessed my potential row-mates. Had they recently showered? Would they take initiative in an emergency? Are they so young that they’re in diapers? Are they so old that I may need to resuscitate them during the flight? These are important observations, and because there’s not enough time for a formal interview, they need to be assessed on the fly (pun intended).

When I finally picked my seat, the look on my new neighbor’s face was one of total disdain. What I wanted to say was, “Look at me lady, it could be worse — the woman behind me has a colicky infant and the guy behind her has something that sounds like the plague!” You did OK here.

As a nervous flyer, I’m easily annoyed about things that happen on planes (clearly). So I thought I’d “air” some of my grievances about flying.

Flight attendants who are too calm. There’s turbulence that’s got me in “prayer mode” and you’re serving freakin’ coffee? If you’re so calm, how do I look to you to see if I should start worrying?
Flight attendants who aren’t calm enough. I know you’re trained to keep your cards close. They tell you to seem unfazed, even if we’re heading for certain death. So, if I see the slightest bit of fear on your face, I may try to break down the cockpit door for more information.
Airplanes with ashtrays. Hasn’t the “No Smoking” on planes rule been in effect for like 30 years? If I see an ashtray on an armrest, I know this plane is old as fuck, whether the seats are reupholstered or not. Continue reading →

Candy Tampons – The Power of Bangs – Quick Bytes

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Said in a rest stop bathroom in front of one of those machines that has all things useful from Tylenol to wine openers…

8yo Daugher: “Mom, why do they sell candy in the bathroom?”

Me: “That’s not candy, it’s a tampon”

8yo: “What’s a tampon?”

Me: (I always said, if my kids asked a question I would do my best to answer honestly.) “It’s when insert uncomfortable conversation here how blood flows from your body … once a month etc. ”

8yo: (After cringing and informing me that she may rethink being a girl because girls “get all the sucky stuff like boobies and blood that comes out when you don’t even have a cut,” she noticed a row of rainbow colored condoms in clear packaging,) “what’s that purple balloon thing?”

Me: “Candy, now let’s go.”

(To hell with honesty!) Continue reading →

The Suburban Jungle

Jenny from the Blog is like comedy crack, but more addictive and less wack.