gotta love motherhood

If you’re like me, the word ‘housewife’ immediately conjures images of glamour and elegance.  I mean, just last month I clogged up the shower with my bi-annual leg shave.  For Christmas my husband gave me one of those pumice stones because my feet look like two cloven hooves stuffed into sandals come summer.  I had to stop scraping after an hour and a half because we ran out of trash bags.

I don’t have a ton of time to do body maintenance, and even when I try to do my own pampering it takes the fun out of it.  Have you ever tried to give yourself a back massage?  It’s just sad.  Which is why I have been walking around in a state of near comatose euphoria since last week, when I had my day of pampering at St. Louis Cosmetic Surgery.  Body exfoliation, massage and facial?  Yes please.  My favorite part about a spa day is walking to your car, muscles so relaxed you can barely see, sporting massage hair that could double as a bear tranquilizer.  Driving home I looked like Thing One after he did a bunch of drugs.  There was literally drool coming out of the corner my mouth.

I know you’re jealous, and might even hate me a little right now.  But don’t, because you can win a full day of your own massage hair and radiant skin, complete with a little drool down your chin.  Visit the St. Louis Cosmetic Surgery contest page here and enter to win an Escape For The Day package for two simply by recalling the best one-liner your kids have said to you, or you have said to your Mom or Dad.  My kids usually save them all up for the middle of the grocery store with a large crowd within earshot.


The winner will also receive a one-year Cosmetic Elite Membership for you and a friend (a $1030 value).  And, just for entering, you’ll get 10% off some of their most popular non-surgical procedures — CoolSculpting®, BOTOX® Cosmetic, or fillers as well as 10% off any surgical procedure over $2500.

How much would you be your Mom’s favorite if you gave her a full day at the spa for Mother’s Day?  Or just don’t tell your Mom you won and take me with you!  I’m sure the esthetician would jump for joy seeing these cave-like pores walk back into her room.

thing massage - Copy

You have until May 8 to enter, and a winner will be chosen and announced on May 12.  Getcha some!


Because When Someone Asks If You Want A Poop Pillow, The Obvious Answer Is A Resounding “Yes”


“My poop came in the mail today!”  I exclaimed to no one in particular.  Of course the ‘p’ word launched my three girls from their burrow in the playroom, running into the kitchen with princess dresses flying, trail of Barbies in their wake to see said poop.  They were only disappointed for a brief moment it was a pillow.  Truth:  Don’t be fooled by their cuteness; my girls are disgusting. And oh my god… this poor little guy has seen some things since he came into our home.  He arrived with a little buddy – an accompanying keychain poop – that my 5-year-old quickly claimed and attached to her back pack.  I just… I just don’t know.  What can I say?  They like poop. Don’t worry – I’m not stingy with my poop.  As a big thank you for reading, my friends at Throwboy and I are giving away a big poop and a little poop.  You’re welcome.  To enter, simply like their Facebook page, and then tell me what you think big poop is saying right now in the comment section below. I will pick my favorite caption tomorrow, April 10 at noon.  The winner will receive one big poop, and one little poop.  Little poop looks right at home on a diaper bag, by the way. CONTEST RULES:  Contest open to legal U.S. […]

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Independent Women


Whenever my friends tell me they’re pregnant I always tell them the same thing – don’t waste your time teaching your baby useless things like learning how to walk or how to poop on the toilet.  Things like that will only make your life harder. When your kids are born you need to focus every effort teaching your baby three things: 1.  How to hold their own bottle 2.  How to swing their own swing 3.  How to change a DVD No one ever believes me until they get the flu.

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Every Day I’m Shuffling


When my kids are sick, my first indication they’re feeling better is that they turn into little turds.  I can’t blame them – they are a monster of my own creation.  When they’re not feeling well my motherly instinct kicks in and nothing else matters but getting them well.  Everything stops – my world revolves around them. “You want more saltines?  Bigger blanket?  Smaller blanket?  Want me to turn the channel?  Rub your back?  Is your broth the perfect degree of tempid?  Would you be more comfortable throwing up outside, next to the garden hose?” For the most part they just lay there pale and glassy eyed, my offers to cater to their every whim go unheard because they feel like death’s ass.  But, inevitably, they’ll feel better and I hear the sweet words of wellness, “MOM!  MORE JUICE!  AND NOT THE KIND WITH THOSE LITTLE THINGIES THIS TIME, GOT IT?” This is my cue to throw back the covers and hustle them out the back door to ‘air out’, as my Mom says. Unfortunately, the rotten apples don’t fall far from the tree. “MINT!  I told you like five times I want the MINT FLOSS!”  I hollered to Nick from the couch, tossing the bullshit floss to the floor.  “We’ve known each other for like, ten years, and I’ve always used the exact same […]

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Postpartum Poop… Your Bowels Don’t Give A Shit


You may remember my friend Rita from her hilarious guest post about her righteous beard, or this bomb of hilarity that broke the internet.  Literally.  It single handedly took down a site equipped to handle millions of people a day.  All this talent AND she manages to crush stereotypes left and right as one of the country’s first female ice road truckers.   I am excited to publish another instant classic today – a thought provoking piece sure to become required reading in high schools across the country.  If you want more where this came from, check out her blog, Fighting off Frumpy, and while you’re at it follow her on Facebook and Twitter. So, without further adieu… here’s Rita! When you’re pregnant, you worry about hemorrhoids and constipation. Then as the pregnancy progresses, you agonize about emptying your bowels all over the birthing table in front of horrified bystanders. (I’ve done that. Twice. “And the turd was, like, star-shaped,” my husband enjoys reminding me, in a tone that’s both disgusted and amazed.) Once you cross all those hurdles, you feel relieved. Now that there’s no behemoth baby bearing down on your intestinal tract, you think your pooping problems are over – that everything will return to blissful regularity. You think you can stop your fecal fretting. You’re wrong. I hate to be the bearer […]

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Sans Comic


I break easily, apparently. Which is funny because I always thought that if faced with a seemingly insurmountable challenge I would have enough inner strength to be the poster girl for enviable courage.  Pollyanna smiling and waving to her teary-eyed masses, telling them to look on the bright side even as she’s carted away on a gurney to undergo an experimental surgery that will most likely result in a gnarly infection and eventual death because penicillin was still thirty years away.  Digging deep, continuing to claw forward with all my might despite a long road to an unsure recovery. Where this imaginary well of bravery would spring from I have no idea; I tear up with the news that I have a cavity. I am not Pollyanna.  I am Pollyanna’s hopeless, resentful, frustrated, angry little sister who lays around writing blog posts that are “scaring people and all my friends are calling because they think you are unstable so can you please take it down”, according to my husband. Therefore, in an attempt to think positively, I will tell you that at least it’s good to discover this little tidbit about myself.  It’s actually a huge weight off my shoulders to take out the guesswork; I know for a fact that I will just crumble into a little ball of pitiful despair begging people to […]

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I Made A Huge Mistake And Ruined My Entire Life… The Answer No One Wants To Hear When They Ask How Your Surgery Went


I apologize in advance if none of this makes sense.  I just took a very large dose of some big girl pain killers and my finger tips and eyelids are starting to feel all swimmy as my brain turns to delicious warm melty butter watching the pain flutter away from the 2-inch incision along my spine that has been screaming for attention since 3am. Let’s rewind to last week.  The cortisone shot didn’t work.  In fact, two days after the shot my numbness actually got worse and then the toes on my right foot stopped working.  Not all of them – my big toe and pinky toe jumped like obedient little soldiers when I wiggled them.  But my middle three just clung together and looked at me with blank stares when I told them it was time to move now. I met with the neurosurgeon on Friday – a discectomy was scheduled for Tuesday.  I didn’t look back.  After three years of dealing with random lightning bolts shooting down my legs, never knowing when I took my first few steps out of bed if the wrench would work its way out or if I would be hobbling around scaring little children all day, or even worse laying flat on the floor flanked in ice, I was ready to get this show on the road.  Last […]

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