The 7 Kinds of Stay At Home Moms

I've done extensive research and I've decided there are 7 types of stay at home moms.  Here's a summary.

1)  The Baby Talk Mom (BTM)
*Literally three inches from infants face*  "Hi boo boo! Ooooh!  What does mommy smell?  Did you make a stinky?  YES YOU DID! You made a stinky!!  Silly boy!   Mommy still loves you boo boo!  Yes, I do!   I love you boo boo!"  *grabs monogrammed changing pad from Pottery Barn diaper bag*

Dear BTM- You sound like a fucking lunatic and I give you 13 more days until you start talking baby talk in the sack with your husband. Love, Tipsy Mommy


2) The Zen Mom
I literally heard a mom trying to discipline her 4 year old with deep breathing.

"Honey, please listen to your body.  Take a deep breath.  Now blow out all those bad choices!  That's right…blow them out!  Bye bye bad choices!!  Good job sweetie!!"

Guaranteed that kid will be in timeout on an organic bean bag within 7 minutes.   Blow me, Zen mom.

3) The make up face, size 2, "real" clothes wearing mom
Obviously you didn't get the memo that yoga attire is our WORK UNIFORM.  You wanna wear real clothes?  Then get a real job, in a an office, and flaunt your tight ass there.

4) The shellac mani mom

Go fuck yourself.  How do you have time to do that shit every week?

5)  The Babysitter Poacher
Punishable by death in the stay at home mom world.  I would literally rather have you steal my husband than my babysitter, for reals.

6) The Anti-Hellicopter Mom (aka AHM or Oblivious Mom)
I agree, "helicopter" parenting is probably a bad choice, however, anti-hellicopter moms are flirting with oblivious parenting.  I once saw an AHM's kid push their stroller into the deep end of the pool while she was practicing detachment parenting at the pool bar with a martini.  Good luck making it to 18, kid.

7)  Drinking Mom
Now this is the kind of mom I can get behind.  They have the unwritten "I won't judge if you don't judge" rule and that rule is AWESOME.

Not every mom you meet will be your type, but variety is the spice of life.  I just look for the drinking moms and everything else seems to fall into place.  Just sayin'….

Cheers!

Tipsy Mommy

7 Things That Made My Kids Cry This Week

The thing about kids is that they're unpredictable.  Out of the blue they will say something that makes your heart swell with complete and unconditional love for them and you realize how lucky and blessed you are to be in this life.  And then there are those times that you have to repeat yourself 30 f'ing times before they even acknowledge that you're talking.  And then it takes another 10 times to get them to actually DO what you're asking.  At least twice I day I beg my kids to stop making me sound like a nag.  But, I have to admit, being ignored is a MILLION times better than the WHINING and CRYING.  Here's a recap of shit that made my kids cry this week.


1.  Spilled milk.

Literally, milk spilled and hysteria ensued.

2.  It wasn't swimsuit day at school

Ok, I admit, there's more to this story.  I got an email at 10 pm at night from my kids teacher saying it was swimsuit day at school.  After mentally thinking the teachers really needed to get organized and give parents a little more notice on these things, I laid out swimsuits so I wouldn't forget to put them on in the morning.  

School starts at 8:30 am.  When I woke up at 8:20 I was pretty certain we were going to be late.  We rolled in at 9 am with swimsuits and towels.  Everyone else was wearing normal clothes.  I said "Isn't it swimsuit day today?"  The entire class responded in unison "It's TOMORROW".  Attention to detail really isn't my strong (swim)suit.  

3.  I washed my kids favorite blanket.

I tried to explain the process to her like an adult.  "Look kid, that thing could literally stand up on it's own because it's so disgusting.  This bitch is getting cleaned, even if it means that you are going to sit in the laundry room and cry for the entire 'speed wash' cycle."  Be careful what you wish for.  Longest. 32. Minutes. Of. My. Life.

4.  I said we could't go to Disneyworld after lunch.

What planet do these punks live on?!?!?!

5. I put junk mail in the recycling.

Apparently I didn't hear her when she said she wanted to put it in the recycling bin.  And for some reason, me pulling it out, putting it in her hand and telling her she could do it actually made her cry more.  Worst. Mom. Ever.

6. Sammi's back was hot in her car seat.

Seriously, it's gonna be a long summer.  Sammi is like a freeking polar bear.  It could NEVER be cold enough for her so summer is literally her worst nightmare.  However, in her defense, how has the air conditioned car seat not been invented yet? Get your shit together, Graco!!

7.  I didn't take a picture of her poop before I flushed it.

Wait, what??  I don't even know how that would ever be a "thing" but believe me, I will DEFINITELY take a picture next time and that shit will be on the slide show at your wedding reception.  You're.  Welcome.  

I might not always be able to predict what is going to set my kids off but I know that someday I'll laugh at every single thing they did that made so mad in that moment.

In the meantime, I'm going to keep my wine glass full and try to remember that one day I'm gonna look back on all of this and miss it.

Cheers!!

Tipsy Mommy

My foot locker...

My dad is a Vietnam veteran.  Growing up, I didn't know much about Vietnam, other than the fact that we were not allowed to ask my dad about it.  I recall him having nightmares and screaming Vietnamese in his sleep.  He would abruptly wake up but I'm not sure if he realized what we saw or heard.

About a year ago, my dad was part of a committee that organized a Welcome Home event for Vietnam veterans.  That weekend was more meaningful for my family than I ever imagined.  It made me realize that there were a lot of things I wanted to share with my dad, but didn't really know how to do it.  Whenever I have emotions that I can't quite resolve…I write.   So, this one is for you, dad. 

Dear Dad,

Thank you for your service to our country.  Welcome home.

I learned more about you during the Vietnam reunion weekend than I knew my entire life.  I heard you say that people asked you if you were scared to go over there.  You told them you weren't scared because you knew you were coming home.   I heard you talk about the horrific things you saw. I heard you say that you didn't even remember anything about your time there until 10 years later.  I heard you talk about how your platoon leader told you to take off your uniform when you got to the airport and burn it when you got home.  They said you shouldn't talk about the things you did or saw.  They told you to "put it all in your foot locker and close the door".  And you said that's what you did.  

During the Vietman reunion weekend, I realized how much you had in your foot locker.  

Your footlocker holds the horrific images you saw of people dying.  

It holds the image of the young kid beside you in a rice paddy who told you he was scared and then was shot by a sniper seconds later.

It holds the grief you felt for the friends you lost.

It holds the fear about your health from because of the chemicals you were exposed to during war. 

It holds the anger your felt for the people who called you baby killers and spit on you when you came home.
It holds that exhaustion you feel from replaying those events every night in your sleep.

To paraphrase part of Corey's speech at your anniversary party "….we will never know what you went through in Vietman, but we're grateful for it and we're proud of you."  Thanks to Operation LZ, we know a little bit more about what you went through.  We know some of the things that are in that  footlocker.  But, more importantly, we also know the things you never put in your foot locker. 

The faith that you had in yourself to survive Vietnam and, maybe more importantly, to survive the aftermath of Vietnam, never went in that locker.

The pride that you have for your country never went in that locker.

The honor that you felt for a job well done never went in that locker.

The respect for every single person who has had the courage to put on a uniform for this great country never went in that locker.  

The hope that you have to heal from all the mental and physical wounds from Vietnam, both your wounds and your fellow soldiers wounds, is not in that locker.  

The brotherly bond you have with your soldiers is not in that locker.
That faith that you can help those who suffer from PTSD by talking to them and listening to them never went in that locker.
The unconditional love you have for your family never went in that locker.

And when the time came, when the world realized that we owed all of our Vietnam vets an apology and a welcome home, you forgave us.  You could have put your forgiveness to all of us in your foot locker because it was too little too late.  You could have put it in your foot locker because we owed you so much more than we could ever give you.  But you didn't.  The strength you have shown since you came home from Vietnam is incomprehensible. 

I'm so proud of you and I'm so glad your my dad. You taught me to always do what is right.  You taught me to always be honest.  You taught me to always work hard.  You taught me to believe in myself, even if other people don't.  You taught me that I can mentally overcome anything.  And you taught me to forgive.

So, if you ever worry about whether having a dad who is a Vietman veteran affected my life, I assure you has.  Not because of what you put in your foot locker, but because of what you didn't.  

I love you Dad.

Meg

It's only "the thought that counts" if you actually think...

Why is Father's Day "National Spend All Day Golfing With Your Buddies" Day but Mother's Day is "National Let's Do A Huge Outing with The Whole Family" Day?  SPOILER ALERT:  The "day out with the fam" thing is actually a shit ton of work for mom.  Packing lunches, diaper bags, extra clothes, etc. etc….you get my drift.  You'd probably get more points just scheduling a surprise root canal for her that day.

If you're in a romantic relationship with a woman who happens to be a mother, then listen up.  Here are the top 5 things you need to do on Mother's Day if you ever want to get laid again.

1.  Kids?  What kids?

You know what totally ruins Mother's Day?  Kids.  I don't even want to see my kids.  Dads should just pretends it's "No Mothering Today" Day.

2.  Empty Nest? Yes, yes and yes!

You know what is amazing when you're a stay at home mom?  Time alone in your house.  When the house is empty (and quiet) moms can do laundry, clean, or organize the pantry.  Or they have the option of sitting in bed, watching reality TV for hours and not doing anything that resembles "mom life".  You know what's wrong with that?  Not a damn thing.

3.  Pampering, pampering, and more pampering

Massage, facials (from a professional, you pervert) and pedis, oh my!  You know why moms love the spa?  It's not because of the relaxing music, the scented candles, or the comfy robes.  It's because they don't allow kids.  You can actually take a piss in peace and then have someone other than your 3 year old rub your feet.

4.  Channel your Inner Mr. Clean

That's right, honey.  You need to clean.  And then do the laundry.  I'm tellin' ya, this is like mom porn.  Nothing turns mommy on like watching her spouse share the proverbial load.  If you can actually put everything away in the correct place, you're almost guaranteed to get a happy ending.

5.  Get Creative

Once you become a mom, you're required to be sentimental.  It just comes with the territory.  So, if you want to make your old lady swoon, help the kiddos make homemade cards to celebrate Mother's Day.  You get points for being creative and you're sort of sticking it to that asshole Mr. Hallmark who made up this damn day in the first place.

So, this Mother's Day, try to do all the things your spouse/partner/girlfriend does for your entire family every single day.  It will make her feel loved and it just might make you appreciate her a little bit more too.

And you should probably have a glass of wine waiting for her when she finally gets home too.

Cheers!

XOXO  Tipsy Mommy

Goodnight little house…goodnight mouse….

I can't figure out a good intro for this blog.  So here goes.  I HAVE A FUCKING MOUSE IN MY MOTHER FUCKING VAN.

I had a million errands to do, including getting my oil changed in the van.  The appointment was supposed to take an hour but actually took two hours and they didn't even wash the car!!  Is this how that other half lives??!

Anyway, I vacuum my van every Monday morning but by Tuesday afternoon it looks like we've been living in it for 3 weeks.  It was a Wednesday and I had family coming into town so I decided to wash and vacuum it again.  While I was picking up "debris", I found a piece of chocolate that looked like someone(thing) had gnawed the edges.  I immediately knew a critter must have been in my van because a half eaten piece of chococlate just doesn't exist with my kids.   

I start vacuuming and find mouse shit on the floor of the van.   I immediately did the heebee jeebee high step like Clark Griswold when he figures out that Aunt Edna died in his station wagon. I can hardly bring myself to keep vacuuming, even though sucking that fucker in the shop vac is probably best case scenario.  I force myself to keep vacuuming because the thought of animal feces in my van is almost as horrifying as having a rodent in there.  I finish and have to drive the mouse mobile to pick the girls up at school.  I rolled down all the windows for the ride.  I realize this makes no sense but it made me feel a little less claustrophobic.  I kept waiting for the little shit to spontaneously appear on my steering wheel and hiss at me with his teeth and claws exposed for battle.

I get home and google "rodents in vans".

I get tons of hits and realize I'm not the only person who has experienced this problem.  There are multiple lists of "37 simple steps to get a rodent(s) out of your car".  Here are the highlights.

1.  "Remove rodent hiding-places next to your car. Cut down shrubbery and vines."

Hold on…is "cutting down the forest next to my garage" really a feasible option for people??!!

2.  "Remove food sources from car…"

You're basically asking me to get rid of my children.  I could probably be convinced but my husband will veto that shit in a heartbeat.

3.  "Park with the hood up so the rodent doesn't have a dark place to hide"

This might be an option…if I actually knew how to open it.

4.  "Use traps. Baits risk poisoning."

Are you a fucking moron?  I could care less if this fucker gets poisoned!  I'm actually willing to risk poisoning my kid to guarantee that this thing isn't going to fly across my dash on I-71.

5.  "Use strong-smelling substances such as powdered fox urine, used cat litter, cat hair, Pine-Sol, Irish Spring soap, and red pepper."

First of all, Irish Spring soap users across the world should be outraged.  Secondly, how the fuck do you "powder" fox urine?  I mean, is that a thing?  Used cat litter?  I. Have. No. Words.

6.  "Use electronic deterrent devices. Some have had success with ultrasound devices, others swear by the strobe-light-emitting 'mouse blocker'.”

Wait, a strobe light in my van?  I can't decide if I'm more likely to find one of those at Spencer's or Home Depot.  And WTF is an ultra sound machine?  If the mouse can tolerate the sound of my kids losing their ever living minds because the hot spot on their iPad isn't working, then I don't think this ultra sound situation is going to work.  

I settle for a thorough interior detail at the Toyota dealership and tell them I'll slip them an extra c note if they can bring me the carcus of the mouse when they're finished.  If they fail at their apprehension mission, I'm going to try to convince my husband that a new van is going to way less painful than listening to me bitch about driving around a rodent infested swagger wagon. 
Wish me luck and pour me a double, please. 

xoxo,

Tipsy Mommy 

I hate you summer...

Here are the top reasons my family might not survive summer.

1.  Mommy has to wear a swimsuit.

I "kept that shit tight" after my 1st and 2nd kids.  The girls nursed like champs so I could eat whatever I wanted and didn't have to work too hard in the gym.  And then "the baby" came along.  The extra pounds from baby #3 are like a stage 5 cling on.  I skated through last summer in a bikini because I never took off my cover up.  However, since all of these lunatics are going to want some water action this summer, I actually have to get in the water (but I REFUSE to get my hair wet).  I tried on my bikini to see what I was up against.  I thought I might be able to whip myself into shape by only consuming celery and wine for the next 6 weeks but I don't think it's gonna happen.  So….I'm officially in the market for a one piece.  There are only a couple options….the Miracle Suit or some sort of skirted situation. We all know you can't go the skirt route until your late 50's, so the Miracle Suit was the winner.

I ordered a few online so I could try them in the privacy of my dimly lit, super slanted full length mirror (you know, exactly like it will be at the pool this summer).  I have to admit, its pretty amazing how much better I look with a little ruching and a shit ton compression in the gut area.  But I'm totally gonna be pissing in the pool because there is NO WAY I'm gonna be able to get that thing off when it's wet.  #whyisthewateralwayswarmbymeg?

2.  SPF 900

I can describe my summer self in three words.  Pale, freckles, redhead.  I got the triple whammy in the alabaster curse.   There is no "tan mom" in this house.  I alternate between Elmers Paste and Red Lobster Glow.  The 10,000 freckles I have are the icing on this uber white cake.

3.  White Pants

We all want to wear white pants.  You probably think white goes with EVERYTHING but that's not true.  It goes with everything EXCEPT cellulite.   To make matters worse,  there is some unwritten rule about white pants being made out of the thinnest fabric on the planet.  I'm accepting my fate.  Black is the new white for this girl.

4.  No School

This one shouldn't even require discussion.  No school means the kids are NOT AT SCHOOL.  Which means they are WITH ME.  And that sucks.  Why don't they call it "summer work"?  Because there is no break happening in my house until those fuckers climb back on the bus in August.

5.  Hot Cars, Hot Kids, Hot Everything

You might have forgotten the dirty little secret about summer…it's hotter than satan's armpit.   I find myself thinking, "Oooh!  It's summer!  I can't wait to burn my bare legs on boiling leather seats and hear my kids throw a shit fit about getting in the car because it feels like the f'ing equator in there."

But summer is coming, whether or like it not.  So, I'm going to enjoy the last few weeks of weather that  still requires 90% of my body to be covered by clothing.  Once summer hits, I'm going focus on beating the heat with a joint team of miracle suits and frozen drinks with umbrellas in them.  Who's in?!?!

Cheers!

XOXO
Tipsy Mommy

The Buckle Battle...

I had three kids in three and a half years.  My oldest is (almost) five and a half.  I cherish my kids.  I know I'm lucky to have them because so many people try to conceive/adopt/etc but aren't able to…blah blah blah.  But sometimes being a parent sucks.  But not at the times when you think.  When they're sick it's hard, but it feels so good to be able to comfort them, cuddle them, and "mom" them.  When they're naughty it's hard, but those will be the things we will laugh about in 20 years.  The parenting annoyances at this stage come from one thing.   Car seats.

Can the world please be a f'ing drive thru?  I want to drive thru for everything.  Coffee, lunch, dinner, wine…everything.  It literally takes me 15 minutes to get these bastards situated in my car.  FIF TEEN MIN UTES.  And that's assuming everyone is in a good mood which we know NEVER happens.

Here are top five reasons that car seats are ruining my life.

1.  Buh bye coffee runs

You don't realize that each drink takes approximately 58 seconds for a barista to make, UNLESS you're standing in a line of 10 people with your three toddlers.  And I would like to thank Mr. Starbucks for strategically placing the incredibly over priced "snacks" at prime "toddler level" in line.   It would literally cost me $17.67 per day if I lugged these little shits into Starbucks every morning.  And it would take 31 minutes.  Thanks, but no thanks.

2.  Airplane Travel

Ok, I'm not even THINKING about actually lugging those things on the plane so my kids can sit in them, but they still f'ing ruin airline travel.  Car seats basically add 14 steps to airline travel. You have to take them out of your car once you get them into the airport, put them in bags (#germphobe), lug them into baggage drop, and then repeat the ENTIRE process once you arrive at your destination.  The alternative is that you could spend $20 per day, per seat to rent the germ infested ones that don't come with a manual but are NOTHING like the ones you have at home, thus taking EVEN LONGER to install. Let me think…NO!

3.  Germphobe

The only thing worse than installing car seats is cleaning them.  Every time I do it, I find a food item that has been there so long it's literally beyond the point of recognition.  I convince myself it's just an old graham cracker but there's a good chance that it's actually a piece of turkey that has been transformed.  Remind me to start a car seat detailing business when I'm done with the whole parenting thing.

4.  The Arched F'ing Back Move

I agree, this isn't technically the car seats fault, but I don't feel like this shit goes down in the "post car seat" years.   These episodes prove that toddlers actually have super sonic strength.  I feel like they could literally move my van with their torso.  There is only one thing that can defeat the toddler back arch….an adult knee to the f'ing gut.  Truthfully, I've never done this but I'm telling ya, it's been a close call on a couple of occasions.

5.  Independence

That moment when they decide they want to start buckling on their own.  Lord Jesus.  Believe me, I can defeat there arched back moves in WAY LESS time than it takes three toddlers to buckle themselves.  And the arched back move has a lot less risk of the super time consuming "my finner got pinched by the buckle!" scenarios.

In the grand scheme of things, even though this is sky high on the "shit that annoys mom" list right now, it will be a distant memory before I know it.  So, I'm going to cherish the parenting moments that melt my heart and TRY not to wish time away when it feels hard (because "they're only little once").  And I'll continue to use those damn car seats as my excuse to have a glass wine after the little shits are tucked in their beds….

XOXO
Tipsy Mommy