Monthly Archives

August 2016

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SLEEP SCAM

I like to sleep. Let me rephrase that. I LOVE to sleep. The whole night, if possible. From the moment your first child is born, the amount of sleep you get steadily declines and really never gets replenished. Me, I’ve been exhausted since 2008. With each child, less and less sleep becomes the norm. As parents, we muddle through the sleep deprivation the best we can in hopes that someday, just maybe, we will sleep once again. 

My kids, on the other hand, enjoy pretty much anything BUT sleeping. It seems that I am constantly arguing and struggling just to get them to go upstairs, let alone actually get into bed. They are amazing at coming up with different excuses, scams, stories, and reasons, and some of them can be quite creative and entertaining. Even if we have sung 7 songs, read 3 books, had snacks, and tickled backs, they still act like they are buzzed on Mountain Dew. Once they are asleep, it never fails that one of the three will wake up and climb into our bed for the night. Bad dreams, thirsty, sick, cold, you know how it goes.

I often wonder what goes through my kids’ heads as they are coming up with reasons to get out of bed. Why not just got to sleep? Those little jokers definitely have minds of their own and there is really no predicting what they will come up with. I imagine their thoughts to be something like this:

  1. I’m hungry. I wonder what’s in the fridge? Do we have parmesan cheese?
  2. I just peed in my pull up. I was too lazy to go to the bathroom, so I just peed. Now I need a new one…but I can’t get it myself. No, not daddy…mommy needs to do it. 
  3. I think I am going to cry. Now, I can’t stop hysterically crying for absolutely no reason. I need mommy. I just can’t stop. 
  4. I need help getting my 100 stuffed animals into the correct order and position in my bed. No, the blue puppy goes on the OTHER side and an inch to the left. 
  5. I want to sleep with you. Let me just climb over you, kick you in the face, and then lay horizontally across the bed with my legs on your head. OK?
  6. This feels like as good a time as any to ask for a Band-Aid for the non-existent boo boo on my left finger. HURRY! 
  7. I need socks on. Even if it is 90 degrees in mid-July. No, not those socks. I hate those, they are too fuzzy. I need the medium fuzzy ones. 
  8. Do I smell popcorn? 
  9. My closet is open. Can you close it? Oh, and I have dirty laundry on the floor. Can you put it in my hamper? I can’t sleep when it is messy. 
  10. Look what I can do! (Coming up with a new silly face)
  11. My sister is looking at me. I need to report it to you right now. 
  12. I really need lotion. Immediately. 
  13. I’m thirsty. I need the pink sippy cup with the lime green lid, not the pink sippy cup with the blue lid. Idiot.
  14. One more huggie (for the 100th time). Please?
  15. I wanted to check to see where the cat was. I’m was worried. Where is she? Oh, she’s on the couch like every other night. Great. 
  16. I’m naked. I just wanted to run down and show you I removed my diaper AGAIN. I might even pee on the floor.

What crazy excuses have your kids come up with to get out of bed?

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Wrong Again

I try really hard to do the right thing for my kids. I try to give them the best all the time. Most of the time I fail miserably…that’s right. Fail. According to my kids, I do “it” wrong. Every. Time. No matter what “it” is, I sure suck at it.

My kids like to remind me of my ineptitude as a parent any chance they get. Clearly, I need to work on many things to be better at being their mom…or maybe I just need accept these few things about myself.

I am the meanest mom EVER

It’s true. I am the meanest mom to ever live. I do terrible things like, ask them to get dressed, tell them to shower, throw away “special” scraps of paper on the floor (a.k.a…garbage), don’t let them play outside after dark, and I always yell at them. See? Meanest mom EVER.

I am not fair

I am never fair. Ever. I always let the girls do whatever they want. It’s so not fair that they don’t have to go into time out when he kicks them. It’s not fair that I won’t let him move in to the neighbor’s house. It’s just not fair that we have rules. Obviously, no other moms have rules like mine. The injustice is real.

I NEVER let them do anything fun

According to my kids, we never do anything fun. Apparently taking them to the cabin, beach, parades, Wisconsin Dells, shopping, parks, bike rides, swimming, camping…all horribly NOT FUN. Why would I even think these things are fun? And…we don’t do them every day. Gosh. All I want to do is clean the house and do laundry. Yep, they got that right, I LOVE cleaning and doing laundry on the weekends after working a long 40-hour week. I would so rather clean up your pee on the toilet and toothpaste in the sink than go to the beach. Clearly I’m a Nazi.

Inadequate Cook

I don’t claim to be the world’s best cook…or even a good cook for that matter. But the way my kids act when I make something simple…you would think I was trying poison them. “You made spaghetti and meatballs? I can’t believe it. That is disgusting. It is making me vomit. Chicken Nuggets? Sick. That is the worst food I have ever seen.” Even if I am not cooking, I still do it wrong. I’m so inadequate that I even BUY food wrong “You got me a cheeseburger Happy Meal. Um…I HATE cheeseburgers. Duh. I’m not eating this crap.”

There you have it. Man, I need to get my act together. I see it so clearly now. It’s definitely all wrong. Guess I should thank them for pointing it all out to me. Joke’s on them though…I do one thing right as a parent, I’ve completely mastered doing everything WRONG.

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Daily Disappointments

Pet peeves, complaints, irritants, problems…no matter what you call them everyone has insignificant things that people do that annoy them. Things that in the grand scheme of life are not that big of a deal, but they are annoying none-the-less. Spoiler Alert… Believe it or not…I, Barrie Bismark, get annoyed very easily. I figured that no one would want to read a blog post called “The 1 billion things that annoy the shit out of Barrie”… so I had to whittle it down a little to my top 23. 

  1. Meetings that could have been emails. Why do we have to waste everyone’s time? A simple, well thought out email could have been sufficient. 
  2. Loud breathers. Just stop. It is not supposed to be heard from across the room. 
  3. Mimes. What is funny about pretending you are stuck in a box? And why is your face white? I don’t understand.
  4. Young people that walk around in droopy-assed pants and exposed underwear. You look like a joke. 
  5. Close talkers. Back the F up. You don’t need to be 6 inches from my face to tell me a story.
  6. People that stagger from side to side aimlessly when walking in a crowd. Move over and pay attention. 
  7. Everyone at Walmart. Everyone.
  8. Mumblers. Please enunciate. I don’t know what you are saying.
  9. Clipping your fingernails at work. Do this in your own bathroom AT HOME. Please. 
  10. Grown adults that gossip and spread rumors, especially at work. Oh, your feelings are hurt because some offended your unwarranted sense of entitlement? GROW UP, grab a keenex and wipe your pansy tears, and deal like everyone else. 
  11. Lawn ornaments/decorations. Especially gnomes. Why do you even like them? What do they offer you that makes you want to scatter them around your yard? 
  12. People that don’t understand how to use the credit card machines at stores. Why is this hard? Swipe and select credit. Two buttons and then sign. It’s pretty simple. 
  13. Using speaker phones in an office setting. Why do you want the world to hear your entire conversation? Is it for attention? Or is it just so hard to hold the pone up to your ear? Please explain.
  14. Socks and sandals. Why? It defeats the purpose of sandals. 
  15. Baby/Wedding shower games. I just hate them. 
  16. Yellow Starbursts. They are not even good. I am pretty sure most people are genuinely disappointed when they open the mini pack on Halloween and find two yellows. 
  17. Getting a voice mail that just says “call me back”. Please, tell me what you want so I can prepare and just send you an email or text instead. I don’t want to talk to you.
  18. People that are happy in the morning. Why? It’s the morning. 
  19. Folks that leave their Christmas lights on after New Year’s. Turn that shit off.
  20. People who don’t make eye contact. What are you looking at over there behind me and off to the right? It must be amazing since you won’t stop looking.
  21. People that stop three car lengths behind the car in front of them. Why? Do you think you are going to do an emergency turn-around? Just move up or give me a valid reason why you do this. It’s annoying.
  22. People who get confused and change their minds when ordering fast food. Really? How hard is it?
  23. Small talk. I don’t want to talk about my weekend plans with you, bank stranger. Just cash my check and let me be on my way to do something fun…which is not talking to you.

So, please, stop doing things that annoy me. Thanks.

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Confessions From the Okayest Mom Ever

There is so much pressure to be the world’s best mom. Pressure from myself, pressure from my kids, and pressure from the outside world trying to compete with all the Pinterest-perfect moms out there. I am not a perfect mom. Hell, I don’t even think I am a really good mom. I am an okay mom. Even when I am at my very best, sometimes it doesn’t work and isn’t always good enough. I love my kids with all my heart. I do my very best every day to give them everything they need and make them happy, but I admit, I can’t do it all.

 I have some confessions to make…

  • I’m the mom that sometimes puts my kids to bed without brushing their teeth. They haven’t rotted away yet, so I think I’m ok.
  • There has been more than one time that I have paid my kids actual money to stay in bed (Pure desperation).
  • I take showers; every day. I leave my kids unattended for 10 minutes while I do. Don’t judge…I know the kids are alive and well because they are banging on the bathroom door. 
  • I don’t make festive holiday decorations and cute crafts to put out on the front porch of the house. I don’t want to. There. I said it. 
  • I skip pages when I read my kids’ books so that it is over faster. 
  • I never make organic, homemade, seasonal Pinterest treats to for my kids to bring to their school birthday parties. I buy seasonal treats at Costco…and they are never organic.
  • Sometimes, if I don’t get all the laundry done, I febreze my kids dirty pants before school. Hey, at least they don’t smell.
  • I try to get them to eat a fruit of veggie with all meals, but I don’t go all spinach and kale on them. Sometimes we don’t eat vegetables. Shoot me. 
  • Swimming lessons count as a bath, right?
  • I throw out my kid’s artwork and tell them I put it in a special box downstairs to save forever. I don’t. There is just so much of it.
  • I make my kids stand outside at the bus stop, even in the winter (I know…the shame).
  • I’ve sent my kids to their child care center knowing they were a little sick. Give them some ibuprofen and I can get a good 6 hours of work in before they call me to come pick them up. 
  • Sometimes I just put a towel over the pee spot on my daughter’s sheets in the middle of the night when she has an accident…instead of actually changing the pee sheets.
  • I allow my daughter to go to school with her hair un-brushed and ratted up in knots. It’s not worth the fight in the morning.
Phew….I feel so much better after getting all that off my chest. I’ve come clean. I’m not perfect. I’m just okay. Go ahead, judge me. I am going to embrace my okayness. I’m just trying to survive. My life is a shit show.
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Hotdogs & Hell – The Dinner Time Horror

Dinner time. The most god-awful couple hours of the day at our house. It is pure hell from the instant we walk in the door. The kids turn into little demons and I lose complete control of my household, my children, and my patience. 
This joyous time begins about 5:00 p.m. every single day. After a long commute home in bumper-to-bumper traffic, I pick up all the kids from their child care and head for home. On a typical drive home, I listen to them cry, fight, and hit each other because they are hungry, tired, hot, cold, gassy, angry, sad, bleeding, whatever. As pleasant as that sounds, the real fun begins when we arrive home. As soon as the car enters the garage, they try to jump out before it even stops moving. It’s a race to see who can be the first one to the computer or to the cat. The oldest sits in the third row and usually leaps over the middle row seat kicking one of his sisters in the head on the way out. He is determined to get to the computer before his sister. My middle child is NOT good under pressure so instead of trying to beat him like she wants, she just freezes and convulses in her seat making this atrocious banshee scream cry. No joke. It will make your ears bleed. So immediately, I am refereeing them while chasing the youngest as she bolts down the driveway saying “get me”. Once I wrangle them up and actually get into the house, the fights start once again about who is going to let the dog out of the kennel. This, my friends, is the most unspeakable request I can ever make. I must REALLY hate them for even asking them to do this. I mean, it takes two seconds. I’m not asking you to cut off your own arm. Just let the fricking dog out of the kennel. 
Within in seconds, the ravenous vultures start consuming anything and everything in their line of sight. Their hunger-filled insanity has completely taken over their little bodies and they devour goldfish, salami, candy, pickles, olives, cheese, frozen cheese, and dog food…yes, two of my kids love dog food. They hide in the pantry and eat handfuls of it at every opportunity. At least it has protein, right? They all completely fill up on junk food before I have even taken my shoes off. I know all the judgy people out there will just say, “don’t let them.” But it is just not that easy. 
Then, the REALLY hard part…I have to actually cook something. I never know what to make and who will eat it and who won’t. There are so many rules and I just can’t possibly keep them all straight. Honestly, I don’t know why I even stress about it, it doesn’t really matter anyway because everyone ends up eating something different. Most nights we have some sort of activity at 6:00 so I only have an hour to come up with something, make it, and eat it. Hotdogs or chicken nuggets it is. This is all happening while fending off the three ravenous beasts swiping food off the counter when I’m not looking and trying to navigate about the kitchen with a crying child hanging on my leg. And the dog. The frickin dog is always under my feet. So there I am trying to get everything timed right and everyone served on the correct color plate, sweating, and shaking because my blood sugar has plummeted and I am starving myself. The one final straw…Inevitably, right as things are coming to a head and dinner is about to be done, someone poops and needs to be changed. Never fails. Every time. Nothing like the aroma of a warm, fresh load mixed with spaghetti or frozen pizza. 
Ready. Set. Go. Here comes the complaining. Everything I have just done is completely wrong. IDIOT. The color of the plates, cups, why the oldest gets a bigger piece of bread, why the middle didn’t get the pink cup (not the little pink one, but the big pink one), it’s too hot, I don’t like it, why does it look different, I want a PB&J….All wrong. Now, I’m having to force them to eat rather than fend them off like I did a mere 20 minutes before. That’s when I resort to bribery. Eat four bites and you can have candy. Those hostage negotiators usually talk me down and end up eating two bites for candy…they are good. Or I just start to cry. Sometimes that happens too. Award-winning mom for sure. 
I haven’t sat down to eat an entire meal in about 8 years. I have to jump up every 3 seconds to get something for someone. A different fork. Another napkin. More milk. A towel for the spilled milk. More salt. Get the cat off the counter. It’s always something. Sometimes the youngest will run out the door and I’ll have to chase her down and carry her back kicking, screaming, and pinching me. That’s always a great time. There is so much yelling and crying during this short window of time I am convinced that the neighbors will call the police someday (I am really quite surprised they haven’t already). I have to inhale my food so fast that I can’t even taste it, which is probably ok since we have already established that I’m not the world’s best cook. If there is ever a day I don’t have to inhale food that has been manhandled and slobbered on by one of the kids, it will be a win for sure. 
So, in a nutshell, dinner time is pure hell. I don’t even like cooking for myself, let alone all of them. I do it because I’m the mom and apparently they need food every day. Exhausting. 
This too shall pass, right? More wine, please.
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Tantrums & Trouble

I’ve been here…


Just imagine what the world would be like if it was acceptable for grown adults to act like children. I mean actually acceptable...At work, at home, at restaurants, wherever. Perhaps it already is…I have witnessed far too many adults throwing tantrums and acting like toddlers in the workplace and in the general publicI fear that this behavior is becoming the norm. If I am being completely honest, I myself, have been known to throw a fit or two when I didn’t get my way, but I’m usually right (at least I think so). I’ve seen it fist hand…executives acting more ridiculous than young children who really don’t know any better. In my opinion, serious times outs are needed for those crybabies

Like me, most toddlers want to rule the household. They lose their cool at the most inconvenient momentsThey throw food, yell at people that annoy them, and just simply act like jerks because they can. They have a complete lack of inhabitation and a way of manipulating everyone to get what they want and exert control over everything. Sound like anyone you know? Unfortunately, I know too many. What if everyone, not just the really special people that don’t have to abide by rules, ignored the etiquette expected of  adults. What would happen if all adults acted like toddlers on a regular basis? What if we all had the honesty of a toddler, social awkwardness of a toddler, or worse, the temper of a toddler.  If only all adults could get away with some of the stuff that toddlers do.
What if we…
• Chewed up our food and just spit it on the floor and walked away. Left it for someone else to clean up.
• Convulsed and thrashed about like a bizarre, intense interpretive dancer when you didn’t get your way.
• Scratched, bitor throat punched anyone that irritates you (this one is tempting, so very tempting).
• Had a complete lack of personal space….I hate close talkers. Or just lurked and stared at strangers for a little bit too long.
• Got frustrated with something, and just said “I’m done”. Throw it on the floor and ran away crying. (I may have been guilty of this one a time or two…)
• Held our breath until we got what we wanted. Works for two-year-olds…and I’ve seen it work in the workplace as well. 
• Flat out told people when you didn’t like their clothes and thought they looked fat.
• Cried uncontrollably when someone you likeleaves….OR cry uncontrollably when someone you don’t like stays (Unfortunately I’ve seen that one far too often at work).
• Stopped dealing with stress in acceptable ways. Instead, you screamed and cried in public…so, so loud simply because you can (again, I’ve worked with folks who did this regularly).
• Asked “why” for everything. 
• Removed your pants because you didn’t want to wear them anymore…no matter where you were. 
• Threw our plates across the room when we didn’t like the food or when we were “done”.
• Ate our dinner in the middle of the kitchen table.
• Took a nap whenever and whereveyou wanted to (Like an IT guy I once knew…at his desk EVERY DAY).
• Wiped my snot and boogers on anything that was in my hand at the moment.
• If someone asked you to come to their office, room, etc…look them straight in the eye, smile and then ruthe opposite direction and said “get me”. 
Although “acting like a toddler” works well for actual toddlers, as an adult, you look like a dill weed throwing fits and acting like an asshole when you don’t get your way. Adults, let’s raise the standards a little, especially at work.  Let’s set an example for our children. So crybabies (including myself from time to time), GROW UP. Get over it. Now go to time out.


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Why I’m an Asshole (According to my kids)

We all have days where our kids drive us nuts and bring us to the brink of insanity. We all have those days when we love our kids, but don’t really like them. Guess what? We, as parents, drive our kids nuts too! I always knew there would be a day when my kids would hate me. I just didn’t expect it to be so soon. I figured that I would have a good 14 years until they wanted freedom and their raging hormones made them hate me. I didn’t expect to ruin their lives so early on. No one properly prepared me for the drama such simple things could cause. Here are some of the reasons I am an asshole according to my kids.

  • I won’t let the kids play in the construction site across the street.
  • I won’t let them eat candy and granola bars for breakfast. I’m so mean.
  • I made chicken nuggets for dinner. How could I be so stupid.
  • I didn’t make chicken nuggets for dinner. Again…fail.
  • I wouldn’t let her go to school wearing two different shoes (that would be a rain boot and a dress up princess shoe).
  • I wouldn’t let her play with Vaseline and wiped off what she just smeared all over herself and the carpet.

    I put her cereal in a pink bowl and not the purple bowl. Total asshole.

  • I forgot about “red shirt” day at school. Another life ruined by my stupidity.
  • I won’t let the 8-year-old ride his bike alone around the neighborhood.
  • Because she broke the banana I gave her. Now it’s ruined. Failed again.
  • I asked her to put on her shoes. Asshole.
  • She got wet while running through the sprinkler.
  • Her binky is too “spicy”…what?
  • I looked at her while she was singing.
  • I wouldn’t buy him a pack of old baseball cards from 1991 for $10 at a garage sale. Asshole.
  • I took them out to dinner for pizza. Didn’t know they hated pizza.
  • I signed him up to play basketball because he asked me to. NEWS FLASH! He HATES basketball now…Um. Ok. I’m an asshole.
  • I told her she has to brush her hair.
  • I took them to a parade and it took too long to start. Yep. It’s my fault.
  • I wouldn’t give her a Band Aid for the non-existent “bump” on her leg. Worst mom ever.
  • I couldn’t make her frozen toast. Asshole.
  • I left to go buy HER a birthday present. How could I.
  • Because I said he can’t wear sweatpants to church.  It’s not like I asked him to wear dress slacks. Just jeans and not sweatpants.
  • I told her should cold not have green olives and salami in her bed for a snack at 9:30 p.m. GO TO BED!
  •  I told him he couldn’t pee in the front yard and had to use the toilet. Asshole.

There you have it. Is this enough proof?  I’m a total asshole.

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10 Things My Kids Destroyed

I have been a mom now for nearly a decade. After having three kids, I’ve learned the hard way that Kids have a way of slowly destroying pretty much everything they touch. Their little grimy, sticky, drippy, greasy fingers are always destroying something. Here are 10 things that my own kids have ruined.

1. My car. My car is now a portal straight to hell. It smells like something has died in there…and dirty feet. I know…doesn’t that sound pleasant? I am amazed daily at the things I find on the floor in the back seat. It is not just the goldfish cracker crumbs. It is the garbage. How do such small people produce so much garbage? These are some photos of the current situation in my back seat. Yes, that is a garden hose. Why? I have no idea. For the record, I do clean out my car. Quite frequently. Those tornadoes are just so fast and sneaky…Also, not sure if it can ever be completely “de-funked”.

 It’s not just the inside either. It’s the outside. Scratches and dents all over. My youngest decided to “clean” my car with sandpaper the other day. Yikes…Not sure we can buff that out.

2. My furniture. We just got new furniture after more than 10 years with the old stuff. It probably wasn’t a good idea considering how the old stuff held up. It was completely ruined. It had been peed on, pooped on, barfed on, spit up on, spilled on, colored on, and anything else disgusting you can imagine. There is always a “surprise” wet or sticky spot when you least expect it. Any furniture made of wood we now call “distressed”. The teeth marks, scratches, and dents are supposed to be there.

3. My walls. I’m not even sure how it is possible to get so much food, dirt, and grease on a wall. Every wall in my house has full hand prints, food splatters, and dents all over it. They have been scribbled on more times than I can count. It’s a good thing I like to paint. I just keep doing coat after coat to cover up the nasty. If walls could talk…Yuk.

4. My body. It is ruined. “Bye, Bye Short Shorts, Hello Varicose Veins” There is now fat in places there once wasn’t. Things that didn’t used to be flat and droopy now are…and things that were once flat are no longer. Even my skin and hair are different after having children. I have acne, wrinkles, and hot flashes. From what I hear…it doesn’t get any better. Joy.

5. My carpet. It’s been peed on, puked on, pooped on…you name it. Crumbs are sprinkled everywhere no matter how often I vacuum. It has seen it all. Just the other day my youngest smeared Vaseline all over the hallway carpet. Try getting that out. I look forward to the day of clean, crumb-free carpet that doesn’t reek of pee.

6. My electronics. My oldest took a bent paperclip and “colored” on the flat screen of our bedroom TV. The gouges are still there today. Fingerprints and slime are permanently on the screen of the living room TV. My phone has been dropped more times than I can count and probably has snot, spit, and who knows what else all over the screen. It’s not sanitary.

7. My brain. I’ve completely lost it. Kids ran away with every last brain cell. I’m disorganized, tired, and crabby. I can never find my phone and keys… Where’s Daddy? Mommy needs a drink….

8. My appetite. Kids are disgusting. They will touch or lick anything…the bottom of shoes, elevator buttons, my phone, the floor, the toilet…Clorox wipes are my best friend.

9. My bathroom. I don’t think it will ever smell the same. Perma-pee smell. Forever. I’m going to have to rip the floors out and replace them to get it out. I’m unsure of why it is so difficult to get your pee in the toilet. Seems to go everywhere EXCEPT the toilet. Even my girls have problems. They sit down…I don’t get it.

10. My organization. Nothing is where it should be. Everything is where it shouldn’t be. I can’t find a damn thing. Legos, Rainbow Loom bands, Shopkins, and garbage everywhere. I’ve even lost my mind.

Kids are wonderful; kids are terrible; kids are the best thing in your life; and kids are never-ending sanity sucking, energy sucking, and money sucking monsters. BUT…you love them. Couldn’t live without them. These years are short and it won’t be like this forever. Moms….we are all in the same boat. Let’s make a deal…I won’t look at your messy house if you don’t look at mine.

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We Interrupt YOUR LIFE to Bring You…FANTASY FOOTBALL!

Ugh. Well…Here we are. It’s that time of year again. Summer is coming to an end, it’s back to school time for the kids, and the most dreaded part of the year upon us. Fantasy Football season. 17 weeks of pure hell at our house, where life, responsibilities, house projects, and family time are at a standstill until February.

Can someone please explain to me the appeal of playing fantasy football? Seriously, I just don’t understand. To me, it is honestly one of the dumbest things I have ever experienced. First, it is not even real. I can’t understand how a person can focus so much time, energy, effort, and money agonizing over an imaginary, make-believe roster you put together. These “leagues” are just a bunch of beer-bellied old men sitting in their mom’s basement who think they can run a professional sports franchise of their own and do it SO much better than the real thing. They sit around, drink, eat and fantasize about their childhood dream of being a real football player. It reminds me of the nimrods that play Dungeons and Dragons only not with wizards and elves. They think it is not as nerdy because it uses real life football players. I would argue it is just as bad. 

What guys think people think about their
imaginary football league
What people actually think about the imaginary football league

I don’t know about you, but I am married to a fantasy football fanatic. Hours upon hours are spent analyzing and reading about different players. He even spends all summer “researching” and planning his team for the upcoming season. So much time wasted on something that is not real and may win you at most $200 at the end of the season. Seems worth it. All that time could have been spent with your family, or doing projects around the house…not just glued in front of the TV and/or computer. Now that the all-important draft is just a couple short weeks away, this research is in full force. ESPN is constantly on (when the Disney Channel is not), any amount of free time he has is devoted to analyzing stats, listening to radio shows, and making plans for his killer make-believe team that will kick the asses of all his buddies. Dedication.

Fantasy Football Experts…Are they? I can’t stand all the alleged “experts” on the TV and radio shows constantly flapping their yaps about stats, injuries, players, and predictions. What makes them experts? Are they magic? Can they see into the future? How can you be an expert on something that is imaginary? They are full of obnoxious advice and think fantasy football is a game of intellectual skill. It’s not. It is unpredictable, changes week to week, and even you, the expert, can’t predict the future. Your guess is as good as mine. But man, you look so cool with your “Fantasy Football Today” logo on the big screen behind you on your duchy show. Bravo.
“Experts”…Hmmmmmmmm

Before we got married, I didn’t realize that I would lose my husband half of every week during the football season. I knew that he enjoyed football and participated in a couple leagues, but I had no idea how much this would impact life. I certainly did not realize that the pending birth of your child, timing of summer vacations, family events, and church Sunday school registration could be affected by draft dates and football games.

One year, he was the big winner of one of his leagues and took home a whopping $200 in cash. That’s good, right? I thought so. At least the months and months of annoyance and eye rolls had paid off. Well, he left this “hard-earned” cash out on the coffee table when we went out to dinner one night. We returned home to discover that our Jack Russell, Riley, ate and shredded the entire cash wad of $200! My first thought was, awe….Even the dog says F you to fantasy football! Haha…But then it registered what had actually happened. I’ll be dammed if I am going to let that damn dog eat that cash! I suffered months of listening to the constant sound of ESPN, football games, god awful TV experts, and long drawn out conversations about something I couldn’t give to craps about. This cash is mine. So, what do I do? Gave the dog peroxide to induce vomiting. Yep. I really did this and I have the photos to prove it. Don’t worry, I called the vet first to ensure I have him the correct amount based on his size. Wouldn’t want to hurt the little guy. So right there in the middle of the bathroom floor the dog barfed up all the money…and all of his stomach contents. Pretty nasty. We separated all the pieces, cleaned them off, and let them dry. Then, like a giant, really expensive puzzle, we put them all back together with scotch tape. We meticulously had to match up all the numbers to ensure that we could get most of the bills back together. It took weeks. Once they had all been put back together, off to the bank we went to deposit it. Phew. That was close. Not even vomit could keep me from that cash!

Actual Dog Vomit
Expensive Puzzle

But the best story…Nearly three years ago I was pregnant with our third child. Her due date was in late August…right at the time of the football draft. Oh shit. If only we could have planned that better. What is he going to do if he can’t draft his super important made up, fake football team? Thank goodness that in the year 2013, doing the draft remotely from the hospital room was an option (for him…not me). Let me clarify…not auto draft. No. He still controlled what was happening. Literally, our daughter was born just a few short hours before the beginning of the holier than thou football draft. I was exhausted…because I just had A BABY and was up all night delivering her. A quiet nap and spending some time getting to know our new little angel was all I wanted to do. Him on the other hand, he spent hours pretending he was a bad ass coach drafting football players to his make believe team while I laid there in bed trying to rest and recover from having a baby. Dedicated. All I could hear was the constant “clicking” of the mouse over and over and over again as he was selecting his players…and the occasional cuss word when the internet connection wasn’t going quite fast enough for him. I’m actually surprised that we are still married after that. 

So, in a nutshell…guys, stop being such dorks. I’m not against you having fun and playing your special little game with your friends, but when it starts to affect your relationships, lives, and your wallet perhaps you should take another look and make sure your priorities are straight. RANT OVER.
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Where’s Daddy? Mommy Needs A Drink

Mommy is out of order!

Disorganized. Bewildered. Berserk. Three words that describe the new me. I never thought I would say this…but it has happened. I have heard that 7 out of 10 people are stupid. I think I now fall into that category. I have traded in any functioning brain cells I once had for three beautiful children. Sanity is a small price to pay for happy, healthy children, right? Although I love them dearly, it would be nice to think clearly again. Maybe someday??

I know there has been some actual scientific research done that proves that there really are hormonal changes that happen that can affect brain function later in life. Spend one day with me, and you will know that whatever those changes are, it has definitely affected my brain. “Mommy brain” is the cutesy, not so offensive way to say “bat shit crazy.” Guess what? There is nothing cutesy about the fact that I’ve completely lost my mind. I was once an organized, smart, on-time person. Since I have had my three kids, my brain has turned into mush. Balancing life was hard enough when I had brain cells, but now that my brain is foggy and scattered…it is just that much harder. The seemingly easy, mundane tasks all add up to something that is, really much more difficult than it seems. Change a diaper, get the baby dressed, make a lunch, read a story, go to the park, run an errand. Definitely not rocket science. There are people that perform brain surgery on children, build machines that travel to outer space. Getting the kids to swim lessons on time… come on. It shouldn’t be this difficult. Then why does it feel like it is? It is the exhaustion, the chaos, the doubts, the “everyone else is doing it better than me” thoughts all that in addition to ensuring the kids are fed, dressed, healthy, happy…. No wonder I can’t remember where I left my keys, the names of people I see on a daily basis, what upcoming appointments I have scheduled, when my bills are due, or why I just walked into this room. I can barely finish sentences let alone carry on an entire conversation with someone. Who can remember anything when you are interrupted 5,000 times by talking, screaming, bleeding and/or vomiting? It never fails…every time I’m in the middle of an email, preparing dinner, on the phone, in the bathroom, or sit down for the first time since 7:00 am… it’s “mom can I have a snack?” “Mom where are you?” “Mom I’m bleeding…”

Now, reading this probably makes me sound like I am an epic flop if changing a diaper overwhelms me. But before you judge me, let me reassure you that my children are completely safe, healthy, and generally happy. I have never accidentally abandoned any of them anywhere, they have never gone hungry (for too long anyway J), and they have never been left alone to fend for themselves. Truthfully, I think it is my constant attention to them that I can no longer think clearly about anything other than their massive tiny-person needs.

Motherhood is hands down the most challenging job I have ever had. Every day I am completely consumed with parenting, teaching, cooking, bathing, protecting, caring for, and loving my crazy, adorable little freaks. A typical night consists of picking up the kids and getting them home, trying my best to get dinner cooked (usually something frozen) before the first after-school activity, cleaning up the spilled milk that was just dumped on the rug, cleaning up the dog poop/vomit on the floor (fricking dog), answering homework questions, finding lost blankets and baby bears, bribing the youngest to go potty and convincing her she can’t stand up to pee, chasing her down trying to get her pants back on, oops…baby bear and blanket are lost again; gotta search all over again…Crap! Now dinner is boiling over…Yikes! You get the picture. It simply never ends. I’m not complaining…well maybe I am a little. I am just stating that there is no way to do it all without things slipping my mind…usually important things like:

* 2nd grade slipper day. Man was I an asshole for forgetting about that. I ruined his life at the young age of 8. It’s totally ruined. He was the only kid in class without slippers and everyone made fun of him. Great. Now he is going to need therapy for my lack of organization.

* Or, when the Tooth Fairy forgot to come (multiple times). When she does actually make a timely appearance, I usually “borrow” the cash from one child to pay the other. By far…THE WORST TOOTH FAIRY EVER!

* One time I drove to the center to pick up my kids like I always do. I was on auto pilot. I didn’t remember that it was Thursday, the day that my mom watches my youngest. Again, like a total asshat, I show up at the center looking for my toddler. The teachers thought I was joking when I walked into the room asking where she was. Nope. I really wish I was joking. It’s just my exhausted, overloaded brain again.

* Or like the time I tried to change clothes quick before yet another gourmet pizza dinner was delivered to my doorstep. Doorbell rings and I get the food. As I walked by the mirror on my way to the kitchen, I realized that my royal blue tank top was on backwards and inside out. That’s classy. I answered the door like that! Figures. You get the picture…I’ve lost my mind…and the kids took it.

Having children has definitely given me a sense of fulfillment, given my life more meaning, and brought joy I didn’t know existed. I love my children dearly. I love taking care of them and watching them learn and grow. But…the truth is, this parenting thing has turned me Bat. Shit. Crazy.

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