PRINCESS MUFFINTOP

Stay at Home vs. Working Parents; Can't We All Just Get Along??

2012-01-31T14:08:00.004-05:00

I grew up in a dual-income family. My mom and dad both worked an enormous amount of hours to provide us with the necessities of life. During my childhood, I was left in the hands of very capable child care professionals between the hours of 9am-5pm.

I am now 34 years old, and my husband and I are both employed. Our youngest attends full-time daycare, and our oldest spent his first 5 years in full-time daycare before entering elementary school. Up until a year ago, being a dual-income family was NOT AN OPTION for us. It was a necessity. We are very fortunate to now be in a place where becoming a stay-at-home mom is an option, and I’ve been giving it very serious thought.

Today, Yahoo published this story written by Brian Reed, an author from investigatinganswers.com:

5 Reasons One Parent Should Stay at Home

A quote from the article: “How many people do you know who get to the end of their life and wish they had spent more time working and less time with their families? You can't pin a dollar sign on the value of spending time with your children.”

Whoa. Hey Brian Reed, why don’t you just kick me in the stomach and call me a shitty, uncaring parent while you’re at it??!?

Let me reiterate- my husband and I have just gotten to a place where becoming a single-income family is possible. For many people, this isn’t a choice. It disturbs me that frowning upon the working parent’s “decision” to remain employed is so… well… ACCEPTED in today’s society. Here is a comment left on the article referenced above:

”Money was NOT a concern for whether I stayed home. I did NOT want someone else raising my children. I learned how to budget, scrimp, and do without ... but I'll NEVER regret being home for my children. It's too bad more people don't feel that way.” –Debbie

Oh dear, judgmental Debbie. It’s great that you were able to raise your children. Too bad your husband didn’t raise your children (I’m assuming that you have a husband with a job because if you didn’t, staying home with your children WOULDN’T BE AN OPTION). The fact that he is employed makes him part of the collective of uncaring parents who have other people raise their children, correct? You can’t BOTH raise your children according to your definition of “raising” unless you are BOTH stay-at-home parents, right?!

While I’m SURE Debbie McJudgerson is a fine person, it’s tough as a working mom to see comments like this.

There are PLENTY of reasons to stay home, which is why I’m very seriously considering it. Of COURSE I want to spend more time with my boys. I’ve always been envious of people who had this option. As I said before, up until last year staying home with my children wasn't an option. Even if it HAD been an option, why judge people for having “other people raise their children”? Some men and women are better mothers and fathers because they are employed outside of the house. THAT IS OK. It’s OK to want a career!! And it most certainly doesn’t mean that daycare providers are raising their kids.

So what IS raising a child? To me, raising a child is instilling values, teaching them right from wrong, putting their needs ahead of your own. It means DOING WHAT IS RIGHT FOR THEM. Sometimes doing what is right for them involves childcare. "Childcare" and "raising a child" are not interchangeable terms. Raising children is so much more than that.

Being a stay-at-home parent is the hardest, most demanding, most underpaid job that anyone could ever have. But it is also extremely rewarding. I am SO thankful that this is a possibility for me, because I know this isn’t the case for many people. If I choose to take this path, it’ll be because it is the right thing to do for me and my family. The thing that may be right for MY family may not be the right thing for YOUR family.

My parents raised me.

I happen to think they did a pretty decent job.

TTFN,

PMuff

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY TO ME!

2012-01-02T12:33:00.002-05:00

Oh hey, it’s 2012! You know what that means? I’ve been writing this blog for an entire year. ONE WHOLE YEAR. Well, minus the 3 months I didn’t write anything. Shut up.

To celebrate my anniversary, I thought I’d do the obligatory “Ten lessons learned /review of 2011” post.

Join me, will you?

1. I am able to run 13 miles without dying. Sure, I’ve permanently damaged my knee, but I have an awesome medal!

2. My ex-boyfriend William Shatner is an a**hole. But his fans are hilarious. Also, where the f**k is my High Council membership card?? Klingon slackers.

3. I became addicted to Words with Friends in 2011. Seriously, its nerd crack. I knew I had a problem when I tried to start a new game and got denied because I had too many games open. Next year’s 2012 review will most likely contain something about my WWF intervention.

4. I foiled the Mini-Assassin’s plans to kill me for an entire year, HOORAY!

5. There are people in the world who do not like me (GASP!). I know, you're SHOCKED. I mean, who wouldn't like me? I'm a mother f**king princess!?! Alas, it is true. I've learned that people who talk about others simply do not have enough to do in their own lives. To these people, may I suggest doing something more productive with your time- like playing Words with Friends? It’s cracktastic!

6. Great news, the government didn’t shut down and the world didn’t come to an end. PHEW. I apologize to all who have still not received their Pegasuarases (Thank you Jillsmo for confirming that ‘Pagasaurauses’ is indeed the plural form of ‘Pegasus’). You wouldn’t BELIEVE the cost of shipping mythical beasts these days.

7. If Edward from Twilight, Ming-Ming, DJ Lance, and Dora’s backpack entered into a battle to the death, Kevin Bacon would win. I wrote this post while watching the movie “Footloose” for the first time ever. Kevin Bacon’s got moves you’ve never seen.

8. If you dress up a Craig’s List posting, you can sell ANYTHING. Someone offered me not only full price for my fancy black pleather couches- they were willing to throw their husband in for free. Hooray plural marriage!

9. I’ve got nothing. Come on, did you really expect me to finish this list?! I didn’t blog ANYTHING for months; you know I’m a quitter! Shut up.

10. Um, why are you still looking at this list? Don’t you have anything better to do? Apparently you’ve listened to nothing I've said about Words with Friends.

TTFN Blog Universe. I haven’t taken a shower yet this year, I suppose I should do something about that. Happy anniversary to me.

PMuff

PS I apologize to all who have left comments over the last few months, I had to remove them to rid myself of Intense Debate. I've said it once, I'll say it again- if Intense Debate were a person, I'd punch it in the face.

PPS I (heart) Al Gore. I just thought you should know.

Rudolph the Cross-Dressing Serial-Killing Reindeer

2011-12-15T10:30:00.005-05:00

The DVR is truly a glorious invention. I’d say that the DVR is probably the second best invention ever right behind the internet (I LOVE YOU AL GORE!).

However, there is one time of year where I’d like to blow up the TV, and for one specific reason. As a mother of two young children, I hear other parents’ opinions regarding which television shows are bad or good. The typical “offenders” are SpongeBob Squarepants and some of the Superhero cartoons, but I’m here to tell you that SpongeBob and Spiderman are not the worst cartoons on television. NOT BY A LONG SHOT.

The most evil cartoon EVER?

Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.

Because I grew up with it, I merrily turned on this cute little cartoon for my children to enjoy. Then the mini-assassin became obsessed with it. Then it was DVR’d. Then I watched it 700 times in a row. Then I listened to what really was going on.

RUDOLPH THE RED-NOSED REINDEER AS INTERPRETED BY PMUFF

Rudolph was born one day to Donner and his wife. Here’s the catch: he came out with a glowing nose. The warm and fuzzy cartoons of the 21^st century would use this storyline to promote a positive message like “everybody is different: hooray!” Not Rudolph though. Oh no.

Because Rudolph’s ashamed parents designed a prosthetic cover to hide his glowing nose, Rudolph was eligible to participate in The Reindeer Games. Rudolph and the rest of the gang were getting along swimmingly, and he even scores himself a hookup with a sexy little thing named Clarice. Then it happened.

His nose cover pops off.

All hell breaks loose as the reindeer start to relentlessly tease him. At this point, Rudolph and the ostracized-dentist-wannabe elf Hermey decide to run away together.

While on their adventure, they run into a prospector named Yukon Cornelius, and an Abominable Snowman. Quite frankly, I really don’t understand this subplot so I’m going to skim over it. They also happen upon the Alcatraz for toys and meet a handful of other colorful characters that had been exiled for being different.

Then THIS happened… not sure what’s going on here but it reminded me of the Different Strokes episode where Arnold and his friend Dudley are lured to a pedophile’s apartment for a nude photography session.

Rudolph decides to run away to keep his friends out of harm’s way and finds himself back with Santa who has decided to cancel Christmas because of a terrible blizzard. Imagine that, a terrible blizzard on the North Pole. Why would you make provisions for snow on the North Pole?! But I digress. Santa sees Rudolph’s nose and decides maybe he’s good enough for his elitist reindeer team after all.

I’m sure this won’t surprise any of you, but Rudolph grew up to be a cross-dressing serial killer with serious self-esteem issues.

The End.

PMuff

Slobby Princess Chic

2011-09-27T11:19:00.003-04:00

Like most people, I treasure my sleep. My child, however, does not. The Mini-assassin wakes up 4-6 times a night, which makes getting up in the morning extremely difficult. By the time I’ve hit the snooze button 17 times, I’ve left myself approximately 3 minutes to get ready.

This, ladies and gentlemen, is how SLOBBY PRINCESS CHIC began.

I’ve justified my slobbiness by convincing myself that all of the other parents at my children’s school go through the same morning routine, thus are also dressed like slobs.

Then THIS happened.

Apparently Slobby Princess Chic attire is not universal. This experience made me think… maybe I should take more pride in my appearance? Maybe I should wake up earlier to style my hair? Maybe I should press my clothes, OR EVEN TAKE A SHOWER OF WATER INSTEAD OF PERFUME?!

Nah. Looking good before 8am is TOTALLY overrated.

TTFN,

PMuff

44th District Court? Today is your lucky day.

2011-09-13T10:19:00.003-04:00

Dear Royal Oak 44^th District Court,

I received a notice in the mail from you this week stating that I have an outstanding balance of $24.00. I have to admit, I was a bit surprised. When I was a resident of Royal Oak 6 years ago, I never received any speeding/parking tickets. The notice doesn’t say why I owe you $24.00; it simply says that I owe you money, and that you take all forms of payment. ALL FORMS OF PAYMENT?? This is extremely good news!! I would like to pay in the form of personal treasures I’ve collected over the years that have a total value of $24.00.

Item #1: A professionally stuffed Malaysian Panther- valued at $12.00. It’s probably better that we don’t discuss why I own a stuffed Malaysian Panther. Let’s just say there was a prophecy… neither of us could live while the other survived, and somehow I ended up with a lightning-shaped scar on my head that allowed me to track down the panther and destroy it. Oh my, I’ve said too much. Wait… that was Harry Potter. Whatever, it will still make a great addition to your office.

Item #2: Unborn alien embryos- valued at $8.00. I purchased these little green gems from eBay after I saw the movie “Independence Day”, because who wouldn’t want their own army of aliens?? Let me just throw this out there for you- Alien. Prison. Guards. AM I RIGHT?! I can pretty much guarantee that NO prisoner would try to escape because BAM- alien tentacle to the head.

Item #3: 7 lbs. Eye of Newt - valued at $4.00. Don’t you hate it when you’ve got the cauldron boiling and you look at your recipe only to realize you’re missing 1 ingredient? I am just LOVING Costco’s new occult section- I’ll never run out of eye of newt again, and now neither shall you.

Item #4: The entire first season of “Ice loves Coco”- valued at PRICELESS. Who can get enough of this whacky couple and all of their crazy hijinks? Plus, you might want to take a close look at Coco’s assal region. I suspect she’s muling drugs/exotic pets/statues made entirely out of elephant tusks in there.

In closing, I’d like to thank you again for accepting this form of payment. Though it will be difficult to part with these treasures, I realize that it is my civic duty to pay back the $24 for… well… I’m not sure for what since you didn’t specify. Also, please find a bill enclosed for $769 that will cover the cost of the time it took me to respond to your bill as well as the shipping costs for your new items. I just can’t believe how much it costs to overnight a Malaysian Panther these days!

Warmest Regards,

PMuff

I must break you.

2011-08-31T20:23:00.011-04:00

My 5 year old LOVES Kindergarten. Every Wednesday, he is able to check out a library book for the week. We are both really excited about this because he loves to read and we've virtually exhausted all of the books we own. Today he came home with this book.

Hmm, a book about bullying. Are we ready for this subject yet? Since it was a Berenstain Bears book, I decided to go ahead and read it. I have to say, I found the contents a little... disturbing.

Presenting:
THE BERENSTAIN BEARS AND THE BULLY
(as interpreted by PMuff)

OK here we go. Oh my... look at Sister Bear. She looks like she’s ready to kill some fools. We're only on page one and already she's vowing to avenge herself.

When Brother and Sister Bear come home from school, Mama and Papa Bear notice that Sister looks like she just returned from a week-long bender in Las Vegas. We learn that Sister was beaten up by a bully named "Tuffy".

Upon hearing this, Papa immediately decides he is going to show Tuffy how the Berenstain Bears roll. Mama (who seems to be the ONLY voice of reason throughout the entire book) reminds Papa that beating up a child is probably not the best idea. While Mama and Papa have this asinine conversation, Brother sneaks out of the house. But where did he go?!

He went to beat the s%&t out of Tuffy, that’s where! Look at Brother Bear. He looks like a little stalker bear in training. I’d like to see the Berenstain Bears E! True Hollywood story. I would bet a lot of money that Brother has been featured on "To Catch a Predator".

Once Brother discovers that Tuffy is actually a girl, he decides that he probably shouldn't beat her up. Hooray! But this doesn’t mean Tuffy is out of the woods yet. Oh no, my friends. Not. At. All. Brother decides to disobey his mother's orders to leave Tuffy alone, and sets up a top-secret training area to teach Sister Bear how to destroy her enemy.

As it turns out, Sister is one Bad-Ass Berenstain.

The new and improved Killer Sister managed to steer clear of her nemesis at school over the next few days. Unfortunately, seeing Tuffy again was unavoidable. During recess, Killer Sister saw Tuffy throwing rocks at a defenseless bird. When Killer Sister kindly asked her to stop, Tuffy basically told her to go pound sand.

And then it happened. Killer Sister pummeled Tuffy Drago-the-Russian-style ala Rocky 4.

Killer and Tuffy were both sent to the principal’s office where Tuffy begins to cry. Then THIS happened.

What the f%^k, Berenstain Bears? Maybe she gets hit a lot at home?! All of a sudden, my beloved bears became an after-school special of the month. The next thing you’re going to tell me is that Sister is anorexic and Brother is a cutter.

In closing, we find out that Sister was let off because she saved a bird’s life. As for Tuffy, she had to visit the school psychologist twice a week for quite a while.

Ummm…

I don’t even know what to say about that.

I am from Flint, Michigan- the murder capital of America. I am well aware that there are many “Tuffy” situations out there. BUT… maybe this isn’t a topic the Berenstain Bears needed to touch upon. It’s sort of like “Saved by the Bell” covering drug abuse. Though the episode contained what could be the most hilarious minute of television ever, it just wasn’t necessary.

Ok, the SBTB episode was TOTALLY necessary ( I LOVE YOU JESSIE SPANO!)… but this book? I don't know. I think the author's intentions were good; maybe we could have left out the child beating reference. That’s sort of tough to yada-yada over when reading to a 5 year old.

TTFN,

PMuff

Will I write your letter of recommendation? YES PLEASE!

2011-08-24T12:10:00.002-04:00

I returned from a 5-day vacation this Monday. Of course the day after you return from vacation, you have about eleventy trillion emails to sort through. As I was happily deleting all of the “I’m going to cc the entire company so everybody sees how hard I work” emails, I came across a message from an old coworker/friend of mine. She wanted me to write her a letter of recommendation for a position that she desperately wants.

Will I write a letter of recommendation?! YES PLEASE! I was born to write letters of recommendation! So I immediately got to work.

First I researched letters of recommendation. I know this might be hard to believe, but I’ve never written one before. Then I wrote a pretty bland letter and immediately deleted it.

This is the final draft. To Lindsey, I hope this glowing letter is to your satisfaction.

Dear kind sir/madam:

My name is Princess Muffintop, and it is my immense pleasure to recommend Lindsey for the open position within your company. Of course, I have no idea what exactly she’s applying for, or what your company does- but it doesn’t matter. SHE IS THAT GOOD. You’re an advertising agency? WIN FOR YOU. You sell shoes? SHE WEARS THEM EVERY DAY. You make shampoo? SHE'LL NAIL IT. Seriously, you just can’t go wrong.

When I Googled “What to write in a letter of recommendation”, the guide said that the second and third paragraphs of the letter should give details about the person's best qualities. My pleasure! Lindsey is a master of multitasking. She can develop a powerful new business pitch while simultaneously untagging herself from certain compromising Facebook photos. After all, Lindsey’s second grade elementary school teacher turned Facebook friend doesn’t need to see that topless keg-stand photo. Am I right?!

Lindsey is also extremely smart and fabulous with time management. This enables her to finish 8 hour’s worth of work in half the time. I think this is why she took 4 hour lunches. It’s certainly not because she’s eating- Lindsey saves those calories for liquor!

In summary, you really cannot go wrong with Lindsey. She’s a talented young lady who wears shoes and showers daily (well… every other day- let’s not oversell). And if you hear anything about her night job as a dancer, it’s totally ballet dancing. Well, it’s PROBABLY ballet dancing. Um, I mean she’s working her way through college. I mean, she has a lot of gambling debt to pay back.

Thanks so much!

Princess Muffintop

If any of you need a letter of recommendation, please feel free to contact me.

TTFN,

PMuff

All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten – 21st Century Edition

2011-08-11T08:40:00.001-04:00

20 years ago, Robert Fulghum wrote a book called All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten. The book is a collection of lessons usually taught in Kindergarten, and explains how the world would be a better place if adults lived by these rules of thumb as well.

It’s a cute book and all, but it’s a bit outdated. I mean, come on! 1988? Did televisions and microwaves even exist back then?! Not to mention a little something called the INTERNET. By the way... I can’t mention the Internet without giving a shout-out to my boy AL GORE. He totally rocked my virtual universe by inventing the WWW. Love you, Al!

Life is completely different than it was 20 years ago, and so are the things you learn in Kindergarten. Though most of Fulghum’s lessons still apply, I felt that they needed some updating.

All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten – 21^st Century Edition

1. If you don’t know the answer, Google it.

2. Don’t shoot people.

3. Recycle, or your planet will die.

4. Share everything, except needles. In fact – just stay away from needles altogether.

5. Warm cookies and cold milk are good for you, as long as the milk is organic and the cookies aren’t loaded with preservatives.

6. Just because you read it on the Internet does not mean it’s true.

7. Always remember what DJ Lance taught you – say sorry when you hurt somebody.

8. Live a balanced life – don’t spend 10 hours a day on social media sites.

9. Don’t text while you’re driving. Don’t talk on the phone while driving. Don’t eat and drive. And for the love of God, don’t drink and drive.

10. When all else fails, reboot.

Good luck children of the 21^st century, you’re going to need it.

TTFN,

PMuff

My name is PMuff, and I'm a CraigsListaholic.

2011-07-28T09:41:00.002-04:00

Last week, I FINALLY moved the mini-assassin into a real bed. You’re probably thinking, “Seriously? He’s over 3 years old and he was still in a crib?” Yes, Judgy McJudgerson, he was. He liked his crib. Plus, if you’ve been reading this blog for a while, you'll know that keeping him behind bars for a little longer than normal probably increased my life expectancy by a year. But this post isn’t about mini-assassin’s new furniture.

It’s about my addiction to Craig’s List.

We decided that we would sell mini-assassin’s crib set online, and gave Craig’s List a try. IT WAS SO EASY! You just write a little description, post some pictures and BAM! That’s it! The problem is, it was TOO easy. You see, I’m a “go big or go home” type of girl, so when I saw how quickly I could sell the crap in my house that I didn’t want, I went crazy.

Almost everything in my house is now posted on Craig’s List.

I admit it, I have an addiction. My email inbox is full of responses to various posts- some serious, some maybe not so serious… my favorite correspondence so far was for a TV listed for 500 dollars.

Potential buyer: I will give you $275 cash for your TV.

Me: No thank you.

Potential buyer: Will you take $250?

Me: Huh? Um… no.

Potential buyer: $200 is as low as I’ll go.

Me: I don’t think we’re doing this right.

There is one posted item that has gotten 0 responses- a black leather couch and loveseat. This was the original post.

I decided this morning that maybe I needed to add a little sparkle to the description. Here’s the revised post.

http://atlanta.craigslist.org/sat/fuo/2510405638.html

What's that, you say? You aren't a vampire and can't read the minuscule text in the ad? Fine. Here it is.

DEAL OF THE CENTURY!
These are the items you've been waiting for... I've decided to sell my plush ebony sofa/loveseat set! I know, you're thinking, "But wait! Why is she selling this set for such a LOW, LOW price?" Good question. You see, I'm a giver. I want YOU to experience the sheer ecstasy that these couches provide. Once you sit in their deep, fluffy seats, you'll understand. It's like experiencing a hug wrapped up in a rainbow. You like hugs and rainbows, don't you?
I'll be sad to part with these couches, but I need to move on. My husband purchased this set a few months before we were married for like 9 million dollars because, hey! BLACK LEATHER COUCHES. Am I right, fellas? You know what I'm talking about. ALL LADIES LOVE BLACK LEATHER. It's true. Statistics show that ladies are 60% more likely to make out with you on a black leather couch over a brown leather couch. But I don't have to tell YOU that, you probably already know- which is why you searched for "black leather couch" on Craigslist.
So hey, let's talk! Now, before you email me with your "I'll give you 50 dollars and my dog" offers, let's set some boundaries. When I put 500 dollars, I mean I want 500 dollars. Will I negotiate a LITTLE? Sure. For example, would I take 400 dollars and a replica of Harry Potter's invisibility cloak? Yes. I don't want to show you my entire hand, but you know what I mean.
One more thing, buyer is responsible for transportation. Sure, I'll help you move the couches out of my house, but that's it. And honestly, I'll probably just pretend like I'm lifting by grunting loudly and shouting "WOW I CAN'T BELIEVE HOW HEAVY THIS IS!" But you and I will know the truth.

This was revised a little over an hour ago, and I’ve already received 3 responses. So to all of you Craig’s List users, a bit of advice. A little bit of sparkle goes a long way.

TTFN,

PMuff

PS This was the Captcha code I had to type in to verify that I was a real-live human trying to change my post. WTF, Captcha? Is that second letter a Latvian long O?

VIOLATION!!!

2011-07-22T10:12:00.005-04:00

My husband and I have been working a lot lately. Like, a RIDICULOUS amount of hours. I’ve also had to travel an unusual amount over the past month. Between our work/travel schedules, we have approximately 17 seconds of free time each day. I usually use my 17 seconds doing something frivolous, like going to the bathroom or taking a shower. I know, you’re jealous.

Last night, I returned from a week-long work trip. We had to fly my mother-in-law down to watch the kids because my husband is working 14-16 hours 7 days a week and simply can’t take care of them alone. This schedule is kicking our asses. So I returned home, greeted my excited kids, put them to bed for the first time in a while, shed a few tears because I feel so incredibly guilty for the amount of time I haven’t spent with them, and then decided to open the mail.

This is what I found.

Then I hulked out. Then I decided I wanted to call the person who wrote this. Then I calmed down (just a tiny bit), remembered that I have a blog and can write whatever I want, and decided to draft a response. I don’t curse very often in general, but I’m exhausted and… well… please excuse my language.

Dear Madam,

Oh hey! I received your “Request for Compliance” letter and just wanted to thank you for pointing out that our lawn has weeds that are in need of chemical treatment or removal. Honestly, I had no idea! Mostly I wasn’t aware of this because my husband and I have been working extensively and don’t usually see the yard before 11pm. This letter has really opened my eyes to how serious this issue is. I know that you gave me 10 whole days to correct the condition, but I plan to correct it immediately. By the way… what happens in 10 days? Lawn police? Public flogging? Will you unleash a new breed of weed-eating tarantulas into my lawn? If you could just let me know so I can spread the word, because I REALLY don’t like tarantulas.

So here’s the deal. You’ve really got me thinking about my violation, and I want to come clean. I should be awarded multiple violations this month.

VIOLATION 1: The inside of my house. Our schedule over the past few weeks hasn’t just affected the OUTSIDE of the house, you should see the INSIDE! When I got home last night, my mother-in-law informed me that I need to clean my refrigerator more often. I thanked her for pointing it out and immediately put it on my violation list. Seriously, I don’t know what I would do without you people pointing out all of these items that have been neglected while my husband and I have been WORKING OUR ASSES OFF. Love you, mean it!

VIOLATION 2: My kids. You think my LAWN has been neglected?! Let me tell you how many times in the past month my kids have missed birthday parties, play dates, opportunities to see their friends outside, or do ANYTHING on the weekend because of mommy and daddy’s work schedules. And let’s just say time doesn’t really allow for me to cook gourmet meals- unless you count Spaghetti-Os with hot dogs THAT I CHOPPED UP MYSELF as gourmet. But you know what- SCREW MY KIDS. You know what I need to be doing? That’s right- WEEDING MY LAWN. Again, thank you so much for helping me see the error of my ways.

VIOLATION 3: My dog. I dare say that my dog probably believes that we’ve been neglecting her since my oldest son was born. But we’ve just taken it to a WHOLE NEW LEVEL. If there were a “worst dog owner of the month” award, I’d win it. But guess what? She’s contributing to my lawn looking so shitty! LITERALLY, SHE SHITS ALL OVER IT. Just between you and me, I think she’s trying to sabotage the lawn. She’s always trying to sneak out front and shit all over that. I think deep down, she loves weed-eating tarantulas and is trying her hardest to make that happen.

In summary, I’d just like to thank you again for pointing out the awfulness of my lawn and giving me 10 days to correct it. I know that snooping around in your golf cart looking at each individual lawn trying to hunt down us violators in the summer heat must be exhausting! If ever you need a rest from your violation-hunting, stop by and we can have a glass of lemonade and discuss the shittiness level of my lawn. Or maybe we can talk about what a waste of f*&king time and resources it is for you to be driving around and delivering letters to people whose lawns haven’t been perfectly manicured in the past two weeks. You know, just whatever topic comes up!

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go lock my kids in a closet, neglect work and the inside my house, my friends, and of course my dog (she’s super old anyway, no biggie) so I can go take care of my weeds.

Kindly go f*&k yourself,

Princess Muffintop

See? Now I feel so much better. I’ll add “therapy” to the list of reasons why I blog.

TTFN,

PMuff

Kindergarten will most likely be the death of me.

2011-07-10T12:10:00.006-04:00

Oh hey, it’s been a while! Like most bloggers have experienced at one time or another, I seem to have run short on time and things to talk about all at once, thrusting me into the posting Bermuda Triangle. Will you take me back? I promise I’ll never leave you again. You don’t want me to start reciting Boyz 2 Men lyrics, do you? Don’t make me bust out some “On Bended Knee”, because I will.

Let’s move on, shall we?

My oldest son will go to kindergarten in just a few weeks. I’ll be honest, I’m not ready. When it comes to my boys, I know I’m extremely overprotective and sometimes overreact. OK maybe not SOMETIMES, maybe like ALL OF THE TIME. I can’t help it- the world is a scary place and I’m their designated protector. To give you an idea of how exactly crazy I am, I'd like to show you how I think DMo's first day of school will go.

7:20am – The bus

I’m not sure how Lord Voldemort got on this bus as DMo isn’t going to Hogwarts, but you get the idea. My baby is so small and innocent- look at Chris Brown back there just WAITING to teach my precious angel how to smack the hoes!

8:30am – Class

Most likely his teacher will be a giant radioactive zombie and you KNOW all they ever want to talk about is eating brains and killing the living population. How will DMo ever get into a good college? Maybe I should just home-school him. Surely I know more than the undead.

12:00pm - Lunch

Nobody REALLY knows what they put into school lunches. You see disgruntled lunch ladies ALL THE TIME. The probability of them poisoning the food? I'd guess around 99.9%. I'd like to give a shout out to my boy Vanilla Ice- I couldn't think of any poisonous foods to put into this image, then BAM! Ice ice baby saves the day.

2:00pm- Free time

NO. JUST NO. I AM NOT READY FOR THIS.

3:00pm- Time to go home

The day is finally over, but still my little ray of sunshine still has a huge battle in front of him. There are probably KIDNAPPERS (who apparently all wear trench coats) standing at the bus pick-up and OHMYGOD dragons might attack him and poisonous snakes live here and there's probably a black widow making an egg sack in his backpack and a parent talking on a cell phone will run him over and a bully might punch him in the face... and... and....

The logical part of my brain realizes that kids start school every year and everything turns out just fine. But the logical part of my brain is dwarfed by the part of my brain that automatically assumes free time activities consist of playing with machetes and AK 47s.

When the first day of school is upon us, I will put him on his bus, put on my brave face and wave like a normal mother is supposed to. But if I see any scary clowns or snake-looking dudes with wands, we are SO out of there.

Word to your incredibly neurotic mutha,

AMo

Child-eating spirits, dual-sided light sabers, and magical blue drinks: our Savannah ghost tour adventure

2011-06-21T09:47:00.008-04:00

My husband had to go to Savannah last week for work. Since it was Father’s Day weekend, we decided we’d all go and make it a mini-vacation. I love Savannah. It’s a very historic city with tons to do, both kid-friendly and adult-focused. Because ALL of our vacations are geared around kid-friendly activity, I decided that we were going to do just ONE thing that didn’t involve cartoon characters/blow-up jumpy things/massive amounts of candy.

I wanted to go on a ghost tour. And so we did.

There are several haunted tours you can take in Savannah; I picked the kid-friendliest version. Before the tour trolley came to pick us up, we decided to take the kids to the Savannah Riverwalk. This is an area with a TON of touristy shops just waiting for people like us to buy their overpriced crap. But the kids needed to burn off some energy, so off we went.

Look, it’s starting off so well! We’re the two best friends that anyone could ever have!

Then we hit the shops. Things got crazy. You just can’t take a 3 and 5 year old into cramped stores full of pirate/beach paraphernalia and expect a positive outcome. Then it happened. DMo spotted a double-sided light saber that he OH MY GOD HAD TO HAVE. We tried telling him that bringing light sabers on ghost tours wasn’t a good idea, but that didn’t work. Then the tantrums came. Then the rolling on the ground happened. Then the “JUST GET THE LIGHT SABER ALREADY SO WE CAN GET OUT OF THIS 120-DEGREE STORE” happened. I know… parenting at its finest. Quit your judging already- if you have a kid, you know you’ve done it too. I blame at least 50% of this incident on Star Wars for making such an awesome weapon of destruction. I cursed you on this day, George Lucas.

Then we bought this magical blue drink, and everything was better.

Finally we arrived at the Sorrel Weed house (the most haunted house in Savannah) where our tour guide was waiting for us outside. Though there were other children in our group, you could see the look of concern on her face when MY kids disembarked. It’s as if she could sense what was going to happen. Immediately the Mini-Assassin started with questions. “Do you have spider webs on your dress?” “Are you a witch?” “Do you talk to ghosts?” “Where’s the potty in this house?” “Do you like light sabers?”

After about 134 additional questions, we began the tour. The SW House is supposedly haunted by the woman who originally owned it- they say that you can see her in photographs taken inside certain rooms. While most people on the tour were a little freaked out by this, MY kids were discussing the outcome of a ghost vs. avatar battle if the avatar had a dual-sided light saber. Every now and then our tour guide would say things like “Oh, you’re just too precious and full of wonderment” to the boys because people from the deep south are too polite to say “WOULD SOMEBODY PLEASE SHUT THESE KIDS UP?”

Here are a few pics from the tour.

The parlor: it is said that people have felt "possessed" upon entering this room.

The "Green Room": Spirits in this room have been seen coming from the portrait on the wall.

Murder couch / orb room in basement (more on this room below).

Finally we came to the most haunted room in the house. They had EMF cameras filming the room and screens just outside so you could see the “orbs” hovering around a couch where somebody was murdered (maybe they weren’t MURDERED… died of old age? Took a nap? Sorry, the blue drink made some of these details hazy). The guide asked if anybody would like to go inside, and of course my kids ran in. Because ghosts?! WHAT GHOSTS? Apparently, my kids are too bad-ass to be scared by anything. After jumping on the murder couch for a while, they came back out to investigate the orb screens. This is the conversation that DMo and our guide had regarding the orbs.

Guide: The orbs are the energy of spirits who are in this room.

DMo: I think that’s dust.

Guide: No, it’s not dust. I was just down here 2 hours ago, these orbs were not here.

DMo: It’s dust.

Guide: No, they are orbs.

DMo: Dust.

Guide: Orbs feed off of children’s energy.

DMo: I don’t think any orbs tried to eat me.

Guide: ….let’s move on.

As we headed outside, I heard my kids let out a blood-curdling scream. Honestly, I wasn’t surprised. I mean, it just isn’t possible to be completely unfazed by all of this… right? We’re talking ORBS and MURDER COUCHES here, people! When I turned around to comfort them, I discovered what they were screaming at.

This dead fly.

I’m sure it’s spirit is haunting the tree it was lying under.

So… yeah. I learned a few important lessons last weekend.

1. Ghost tours probably aren’t ideal for young kids (did you just say “DUH”?).

2. Magical blue drinks cure everything.

3. Houses built in the early 19^th century do not have toilets.

4. Avatars can defeat ghosts ONLY with dual-sided light sabers.

TTFN,

AMo

A Mini-Assassintastic Birthday

2011-06-10T07:35:00.003-04:00

Three years ago today, we met for the first time. I loved you from the very second I saw you.

I hope your third year brings many new adventures and great memories. I also hope you will stop trying to kill everyone.

Happy birthday to my Mini-Assassin.

You are my sunshine.

Look at my cute little ball of rage!

TTFN,

Mini-Assassin's Mom

Pay no attention to the muffin behind the curtain

2011-06-09T10:41:00.002-04:00

Like any blogger, I love comments from my readers. The standard blogger template does not allow me to respond to your comments the way that I would like, so I'm trying a new format and need to post something to make sure everything works. So, here goes nothing!

TTFN,

AMo

Let's get ready to rumble.

2011-06-07T09:44:00.003-04:00

Both kids were feeling a bit under the weather yesterday, so we stayed indoors all evening. After watching the 10 billionth episode of Dora the Explorer, I asked my husband who he thought would win in a fight to the death between Boots and Backpack. We both decided that HANDS DOWN, Backpack would come out on top. Sure, Backpack is… well… a BACKPACK. But Boots has ZERO survival skills! And where are his clothes? So you wear boots, but you can’t find a pair of shorts and a shirt? Monkey pervert.

But I digress.

Once the winner of the DORA SIDEKICK BATTLE TO THE DEATH was decided, I asked my husband to pick 3 new opponents for the incoming champion. His picks:

DJ Lance- Yo Gabba Gabba

Ming Ming – The Wonderpets

Edward Cullen- Twilight

Ladies and gentlemen... LET'S GET READY TO RUMBLE!

I don't know about you, but after comparing all 4 of these contestants, I see a very clear winner.

Congratulations to Kevin Bacon.

TTFN,

AMo

The interpretive dance stylings of DMo and the Schizophrenic Mini-Assassin

2011-05-31T19:57:00.003-04:00

The kids and I are home alone tonight, so we decided to have a dance party. I recorded some of it because I'm pretty sure my children are the most majestic dancers I've ever had the privilege of witnessing. Their grace is rivaled only by that of a swanther (a swan/panther hybrid). They're style is... um... unique. It would be a crime if I didn't share this talent with the world.

You'll learn a few things from this video.

1. I have extremely white legs.
2. Neyo rocks our world.
3. Both children have incorporated elements of ninja moves into their dancing.
4. In our house, "poop" is the most hilarious word OF ALL TIME.
5. My schizophrenic 2 year old will attempt to assassinate me just when I least expect it.

Oh, you want to know what my girlfriend's name is? HER NAME IS SHUT YOUR MOUTH.

Well played, Mini-Assassin. Well played.

The Glamorous Career of an Advertising Account Executive

2011-05-23T12:59:00.005-04:00

My 5 year old graduated from Pre-K yesterday.

He's the one digging for gold right before expressing his desire to become a ninja paleontologist.

While we were eating breakfast this morning, DMo and I had a conversation about his future career choice. During the conversation, he asked me what I wanted to be when I was a little girl.

DMo: Mom, what did YOU want to be when you were my age?

Me: Well, I think I wanted to be a veterinarian.

DMo: Are you a veterinarian?

Me: No, I’m in advertising.

DMo: What’s advertising?

Me: You know when we’re watching TV, there is a break in the show for a couple of minutes and they show you new toys or new food to try? Those are advertisements.

DMo: You mean the things we fast forward through?

Me: Um… well… yes.

DMo: Oh… so you make the toys and food?

Me: No, we make commercials to SELL things like toys and food.

DMo: OH! You sell the food at a grocery store?

Me: Well… no… I talk to the people who make the toys and food to see what they want their advertisements to look like.

DMo: And then you make the commercials?

Me: Um… no… then I tell people at my company what the people who make the toys and food want in their commercial, then THEY create it.

DMo: Why wouldn’t the people who make the toys and food just tell the people at your company who make the commercials instead of telling you? Don’t they like each other?

Me: Did you just call me a middle man?!

DMo: (after about a minute of silence) Mommy, maybe you should be a paleontologist.

If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be hanging my head in shame while seriously considering a career change.

TTFN,

The Middle Man

I'm Guest-Posting, Probably.

2011-05-18T11:27:00.002-04:00

It’s been a while since my last post! As you probably guessed, I’ve been extremely busy preparing for Judgment Day.

Speaking of Judgment Day (BEST. SEGUE. EVER.) I’m guest-posting at Hate You Probably’s Place today. Go check it out. Right now. GO! There’s nothing more to see here.

TTFN,

AMo

SOMEBODY needs a nap.

2011-05-09T14:13:00.001-04:00

I’m pretty cranky today. Between the hours of 1-5am, my youngest son decided the entire house needed to play a game of “NOBODY SLEEPS TONIGHT, B!T%#ES”. Needless to say, he won.

Unfortunately, my coworker suffered the wrath of my crankiness this morning. While talking to her, she stated that someone had “thrown her for a loop”. Now, I’ll be honest. Cranky or not, that phrase just DOESN’T MAKE SENSE. So I asked her- how does one get thrown for a loop? HOW, I SAY!?

I don’t want to be so arrogant as to say that “thrown for a loop” would NEVER make sense, so I thought about it. This is an instance that I came up with where “thrown for a loop” would actually be the correct verbiage.

Then I started thinking of other phrases that didn’t make sense… like “not for nothing”. Could there ever be a situation where something was, indeed, not for nothing?

Why, yes!

And what about a personal fave of mine, “it is what it is”? Hmmm….

BINGO!

How about an oldy but goody, “a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush”?

I think we have a winner!

I have no image for the next one, because there is NEVER an instance where this would make sense.

“I slept like a baby.”

BABIES DON’T SLEEP. EVER.

TTFN,

AMo

Social Media Explained Through Examples

2011-05-03T10:45:00.004-04:00

When I told my mother that I joined Twitter, she seemed a bit confused as to why I needed yet ANOTHER social media outlet to spew my verbal diarrhea. Honestly, I think that’s a fair question. After thinking about it for some time (2 minutes to be exact- you don’t have a lot of time to ponder things when you have a 2 and 5 year old), I’ve decided to supply examples in order to provide an answer.

So Mom, this one’s for you. Here are a few examples of Facebook statuses, Twitter "tweets", and blog entry titles discussing the same topic.

TOPIC: SUNDAY PICNIC

Facebook: Today is such a beautiful Sunday! We’re going to take the precious angels to church, then on a picnic! Hooray!*

Blog Title: Picnicking south of the Mason-Dixon Line: NOT A GOOD IDEA.

Twitter: Whoever invented picnicking obviously didn’t care about sitting in bird/animal s#!t or being eaten alive by mosquitoes.

TOPIC: POTTY TRAINING

Facebook: I can’t believe it! Little MMo is SO CLOSE to being potty trained! He went pee-pee in the potty all by himself! He’s SO advanced. Hooray!**

Blog Title: The princess and the pee: A royal’s guide to potty-training a mini-assassin.

Twitter: I almost vomited walking into my boys’ bathroom today. HOW DID PISS GET ON THE CEILING?

TOPIC: 5 YEAR OLD LITTLE LEAGUE TEAM

Facebook: Yay, I’m SO EXCITED to go watch little DMo’s baseball game! Score a homerun for mom, D! Hooray!***

Blog Title: So you want to coach a little league team: yeah, good luck with that.

Twitter: People who coach baseball for 5 year olds would also excel in cat herding.

TOPIC: SNOW

Facebook: I don't like snow. Hooray!

Blog Title: I hate snow.

Twitter: I f&*king hate snow.

I hope that clears everything up for you, Mom.

TTFN,

AMo

*Please note that these are dramatizations of Facebook statuses. Like, WAY dramatized. "Hooray"? Who SAYS that?!

** I would also never address anything fecal or urine-related on Facebook. I save my pee talk for Twitter.

*** OK... SOMETIMES**** I say hooray.

**** I say hooray all the time. Please don't hate me.

Dr. Phil’s Guide to Diagnosing a Serial Killer

2011-04-27T09:22:00.002-04:00

My son MMo was the happiest baby that ever existed. He would smile and coo, and loved to snuggle. His laughter would light up a room.

Just when I thought, wow, I am SO LUCKY that this precious baby angel is mine…. Something happened.

My precious baby angel turned 2.

Many of you have probably read or heard me joking about MMo’s schizophrenic temper. For the most part, I really AM joking… but there’s still a part of me that wonders if maybe I’m raising the next Hannibal Lecter. Being the overly-dramatic worrier that I am, I decided to Google “characteristics of a serial killer”. You know… just to be SURE I shouldn’t be locking my bedroom door at night. By the way, thanks again Al Gore for inventing the internet. Without you, I would have been unable to access such a plethora of information on this topic. Love you Al, thanks for being the second-best vice president EVER!

The internet pulled through for me once again. The first link in the search display was from what I would describe as the most reliable source known to mankind, Dr. Phil. I should have known that Dr. Phil would be the leading source in sociopathic behavior. I mean, he was a recurring guest on the Oprah Winfrey show as a relationship and life strategy expert! Oprah doesn’t let just ANYBODY on her show. You have to be like, a couch-jumping Scientologist or her secret half-sister to sit in that guest chair.

Once I discovered this incredibly reliable and accurate site, I dove in. Below are some of the most common traits found in serial killers.

1. Over 90 percent of serial killers are male. Welp Dr. Phil, I’m already in trouble. Penis? Check.

2. They tend to be intelligent, with IQ's in the "bright normal" range. MMo is a very bright child. He can already pick a lock and hotwire a car.

3. They tend to come from markedly unstable families. Now, how unstable is “markedly unstable”? Like say, you know, HYPOTHETICALLY... that the mother thinks she is a princess and her best friend is T-Pain? WHAT EXACTLY are you trying to say, Dr. Phil?!

4. As children, they are raised by domineering mothers. I’m not sure I like your tone, Dr. Phil. I WILL NOT TOLERATE THIS SORT OF QUESTIONING.

5. Their families often have criminal and psychiatric histories. OK… confession time. When I was 3, I stole chapstick from a grocery store. I know, SO awful. Oh, and up until age 10 I thought I was possessed by a man named Azrael the Horrid and only ate raw meat. But that’s pretty normal… right?

6. They hate their fathers and mothers. Ummm…

I’m still undecided on whether or not I have anything to worry about, only time will tell. Oh and by the way, are you proud to be a gold digger? Are you afraid that your daughter is prostituting in Las Vegas? Breastfeeding your 5 year old? If so, Dr. Phil wants to talk to YOU!

TTFN,

AMo

100

2011-04-21T12:51:00.005-04:00

As some of you may know, my family and I just got back from a weeklong 1600-mile road trip to see friends and family. The visit was great, but the driving… well… have you ever seen National Lampoon’s Vacation? Now imagine that with two very young kids. But we didn’t kill Aunt Edna along the way- so, yay for us. Oh and we didn’t end up at Wally World with John Candy, the nauseous security guard. Really, the car ride was nothing like National Lampoon’s Vacation.... maybe we should start over because my trip has nothing to do with this post anyway.

Oh hi there, blog reader! I was gone for a few days! Before I left, I promised that I would ~~make up~~ write an autobiography for my 100^th follower. Today, I make good on that promise.

Ahem… drum roll please… ladies and gentleman, may I present to you:

GLITTER, DECEIT AND GARDENING: THE NEXT MARTHA STORY

Many of you may know my 100^th follower Jennifer Hajer as “The Next Martha” from her blog or from Twitter. You may also know that she’s really into crafts and loves to garden. But this story isn’t about that.

THIS story is about how The Next Martha came to be.

Jennifer was born to Clark and Ellen Hajer who hail from a small suburb of Chicago, Illinois. “From the moment she was born, we knew she wasn’t normal”, said mother Ellen. “As a little girl, she would insist upon taking glitter everywhere she went. If she got upset at someone, she’d simply throw the entire container at the person’s face while screaming ‘HOW DO YOU LIKE ME NOW’. She was an angry little girl with a passion for arts & crafts supplies.”

As Jennifer grew up, her passion took a deadly turn toward obsession. At 14, Jennifer was exposed to Martha Stewart for the first time. According to Jennifer’s award-winning biographical essay “Tripping on My Eyeballs”, replacing Stewart became her only desire in life.

Jennifer’s father, Clark: “Jennifer’s day consisted of school, Martha Stewart Living, and scrapbooking. When she ran out of family-related things to scrapbook, she became desperate and started creating pages dedicated to the squirrels in the backyard. It was out of control.”

In 2004, Hajer hit rock bottom. Upon hearing the news that Martha Stewart had been convicted of insider trading and would be serving prison time, Hajer formulated a plan that included being arrested, becoming Stewart’s cellmate, and getting rid of the competition. PERMANENTLY. Unfortunately for Hajer, she decided to scrapbook about her plan. She was arrested on attempted-murder charges and served 17 months in an Illinois correctional facility.

During Hajer’s time in prison, she discovered other talents which she cultivated after her release in 2006. She graduated summa cum laude from the Adele Perkins School of Welding and Archery, and parlayed her new status into a successful career.

In her spare time, Hajer still enjoys crafting and gardening. She’s even dedicated a Twitter account to it (not to worry, her parole officers are keeping a close eye on @hoeinthegarden to ensure the safety of all involved). She has also developed a passion for writing; you can find her work here. If you’re looking for scrapbook samples/ideas on her site, you won’t find any. By law, she is not permitted to scrapbook until the year 2016.

To end this entry, I’d just like to thank The Next Martha and the rest of my new followers for taking 3 minutes out of your week to read my little old blog. You’re all special and unique to me, like precious snowflakes. THANKS FOR BEING AWESOME.

TTFN,

AMo

P.S. EVERY WORD of this autobiography is true.

P.P.S. Well, not EVERY word.

P.P.P.S. OK, the only thing accurate about this autobiography is that The Next Martha IS in fact, awesome.

PMuff: The True Hollywood story

2011-04-12T09:20:00.004-04:00

I’m not exactly sure how this happened, but I’ve almost reached 100 followers. Because I am so completely dumbfounded/flattered that anybody is reading this, I’ve decided that I’m going to dedicate an entire post to lucky number 100. The post may or may not contain actual stories/facts about this person… it really depends on how awesome he/she is.

After I decided to write a post about someone else, I realized that most of the people reading this blog know very little about ME. So ladies and gentlemen, the story you’ve all been dying to hear…

PMuff: The True Hollywood Story

I was born.

I had a fairly regular childhood despite growing up in Flint, Michigan (the murder capital of the world).

My teen years were… interesting. I’m pretty sure my parents were continuously riding the fence between keeping me and selling me to the highest bidder.

I went through some phases.

I went to college.

After college, I moved to the East Coast to follow my dreams...

...and by "follow my dreams", I sort of meant "follow a boy". So yeah... that didn't work out.

When I moved back to Michigan, I met Prince Muffintop. We got married.

We had a baby.

Prince Muffintop took a job in Ohio, so we moved.

Then we had another baby.

Then Prince Muffintop took a job in Georgia, so we moved there. Have I ever told you how much I hate moving?

Then I started a blog, and now you're reading it. And for that, I just wanted to say:

There is absolutely no reason for the Boone's Farm bottle right there, I just thought it added a little something.

I'm looking forward to ~~completely making up~~ telling the story of my 100th follower. So be warned... if you decide to follow me, you've got that to worry about.

TTFN,

AMo

A Princess’ Guide to the Government Shutdown

2011-04-06T13:29:00.002-04:00

I’ll be honest. I HATE reading the news. When I became a parent, something snapped- I could no longer tolerate reading articles regarding the depressing state of the world. BUT... because my job requires that I stay on top of current events, I try to do a daily drive-by through a few news-related websites. This isn't something I enjoy doing, so every now and then I'll skip a few days. Besides, if I wanted a good cry, I'd rather watch the Notebook thank you very much.

My client called this morning. I’ll admit, I wasn’t really listening. There are only so many times I can hear about said client’s daughter’s dance recital/son’s spelling bee trophy/new golf clubs before I want to rip my ears off. Today’s conversation: client tells me about his super fantastic weekend at the zoo with his… whoops… zoned out for a minute....something something about his mother-in-law’s cracked tooth… ooh, Real Housewives of OC is on! Blah blah… the Government is shutting down.

Wait… WHAT? The GOVERNMENT IS SHUTTING DOWN?!

So of course I headed straight to Google to figure out just what the hell happened. Turns out my boy Barack Obama and his congressional posse do not agree on how to spend this fiscal year’s budget, and if they don’t figure it out like, RIGHT NOW, there will be consequences. After reading several articles written for people way smarter than I am, I had only 1 question:

What the eff does this mean?

Good question, self. Here’s the answer broken down Princess-style.

1. All National parks, museums, and monuments will shut down. Did you plan a vacation to our great nation’s capital to see all of the magnificent landmarks within the next couple of weeks? Sucks to be you!

2. Need a passport? TOO BAD.

3. Toxic waste clean-up? Well WHO NEEDS THAT ANYWAY.

4. US Postal Service? You’re cool. So are you, air traffic control and coast guard.

5. Expecting a tax refund check? Don’t hold your breath.

6. How about the pay for Government workers INCLUDING OUR TROOPS? Not looking good. Not cool, Obama/Congress. Not cool.

There are a ton of other things that may or may not be affected, but quite frankly my brain can’t process any more. Let’s face it- I’m just more of a TMZ kind of girl. I like my breaking news stories to have more of a "Lindsay Lohan arrested for sacrificing/eating a Sumatron Tiger" feel than this type of thing. Bottom line is this. Hurry up and settle your shit, Obama and Congress. How about you just scrap both of your proposals and spend the budget on research to populate the country- nay, the WORLD- with Pegasuses (Pegasi? Pegasaurases? Whatever the plural is for ‘Pegasus’). All of our problems would be solved if we co-existed with these majestic beasts. Am I right!!?

That is all for now. It’s time to go watch Tamra from the Real Housewives of OC engage in awkward bathtub relations with her 16 year-old boyfriend.

TTFN,

AMo

NOTE: I obviously have no real interest in politics, therefore I have no interest in debating politics. So please do not leave me any creepy serious “Obama and/or congress is the devil” comments or you will be instantly disqualified from receiving a Pegasus.

I am Mexican, hear me roar.

2011-03-30T14:26:00.005-04:00

Let me start by warning you that I am in a mood today. Therefore, this post will most likely not be funny at all. If you just said to yourself, “But her posts are never funny”, then I suggest you go back to eating your lima beans and looking at your Land’s End catalog because YOU SIR/MADAM obviously have no sense of humor.

See? I’m in a mood. If you want funny, go over to the right side of your screen and click the links to any of the fabulous blogs in my blogroll. Peace out.

Today I registered my child for kindergarten. DMo and I excitedly walked into the school welcome center with our 9.5 billion pieces of identification. To register for school in GA, you need every piece of paper short of a notarized letter from God stating that you are, in fact, alive. We were missing some documents, so we went on a 2-hour wild goose chase to find more proof that we were actually GA residents (because my driver’s license and mortgage bill wasn’t enough). BUT, ladies and gentlemen, this is not why I’m in a mood.

Besides having to provide your life history, you must fill out a form containing basic information about your child. This should have been the easy part, but the first question stumped me.

Q1. Is your child Hispanic/Latino?

I am white. My parents are white. Their parents were white. This question was never an issue for me to answer. This question for my husband, however, was not as easy- his father is white, his mother is not. My husband looks stereotypically white, just as my children do. That blue-eyed child featured in the post below (you know, the one that’s trying to kill me)? His grandmother is Hispanic. Genetics are crazy.

Going back to Q1. I called a woman over to ask her two questions so I could fill out the rest of the form.

Here’s where I get stabby, y’all.

My first question: What qualifies you to be Hispanic?

The woman came over to our table quickly and greeted us with a smile. People from the South have been EXTREMELY pleasant to deal with. She introduced herself and asked how she could help me. I told her I was having a little trouble filling out the race question. My son is partially Hispanic, should I check the box? Her response sent chills down my spine. The woman made a face that resembled the look that you would make if I told you I only brushed my teeth once a week (TOTALLY not true, by the way- it’s more like 3 or 4 times a week. No really, I’m kidding… that’s disgusting. Please forget we ever had this conversation).

“Oh sweetie, don’t make him Mexican. He’s not Mexican, just mark ‘no’.”

No? Because he’s only a quarter Hispanic? But I knew that wasn’t what she meant. I’ve seen that look before. I could feel the Incredible Hulk starting to tug on my stomach signaling he wanted out. So I asked her why. I kept asking. She backpedaled a bit, she hemmed and hawed, yet I continued to ask. I could tell she was getting flustered, so I let it go.

My second question: WHY do you need this information?

My issue with this had more to do with HER, not with why the school system needs to know my son’s racial make-up. I’m sure there are logical reasons why the Government needs to know just how many Pacific Islanders there are in a particular region, but I wanted HER answer.

“Well, we just need it for profiling reasons. Like, we don’t want all the Mexicans in the same class.”

HOLY S%1T. What?! And with that, the Hulk made his appearance. I’ll spare you the rest of the conversation; mostly because I don’t remember a lot of it (it happens when I “Hulk out”). I vaguely recall uttering the words “burrito overload” and “baby low-rider pimpmobiles”. Somehow, we completed the registry and quickly left. As we were driving down the road, I noticed my child’s concerned little face in my rear-view mirror. I asked him what was wrong- he put his head down and asked one question.

“Mom, am I in trouble for being Mexican?”

As I mentioned earlier, my husband LOOKS stereotypically white. Because of this, there have been many times when a person unfamiliar with his ethnic background felt comfortable enough to make Hispanic racist slurs, jokes, etc. directly to him. I won’t get into this because it’s not my story to tell. But could you IMAGINE that? How that would make you feel? He always takes the high road and walks away. THAT is the difference between us. I’m not always the high-road type of gal.

It dawned on me as I looked at my concerned child that this was the first time out of what I’m sure will many times that someone made him feel bad about who he is. And that is unacceptable.

To end this extremely long and unfunny entry, let me just put this out there.

Do you tell racist jokes? THEY AREN’T FUNNY.

Do you make racist comments? THEY MAKE YOU SOUND INCREDIBLY IGNORANT.

Please know that I love and appreciate ALL types of humor, from corny to totally inappropriate. But let me tell you this. I’ve never heard a racist joke that was funny. Not once. And I’d like to think I know funny (shut up SIR/MADAM. Finished with your Land’s End? Try Quilter’s World. Bastard).

My kids are Hispanic. Therefore, so am I. You’d never know it by looking at us. So if you insist on making comments that would offend an entire race, you’d better be damned sure you know who you’re talking to before you say it.

And yes, I checked the box.

TTFN,

The Incredible Hulk