A few Easy Steps to Make Your Holiday Merry…

The thing about the holidays is this….we ruin them by trying to do too much.  I don't even have a JOB and I have a TWO PAGE to do list.  My short term memory seems to reset every 30 seconds (what did I need at Target again?) because it's completely overloaded with tasks.

Here are some tips on how to survive the sprint to the finish that is Christmas week.

1.  Avoid shopping malls/strip malls at all possible costs.    I'm not sure what it is about a shopping center that makes people completely forget how to drive.  The only benefit of braving the crowds is witnessing a VW bug crashing into a stop sign and being lifted up like Christ himself.  I was out of memory on my phone so I couldn't video tape the woman literally jumping down from her car.  Hang up the phone and DRIVE PEOPLE!!

2.  Play dates, play dates and more play dates.  Why the hell do schools need to take two full weeks off for the holidays?  I mean, what are we teaching our kids?  95% of our kids will become something OTHER THAN teachers and these long holidays are just setting them up for disappointment once they enter the workforce.  At any rate, all the other moms are miserable as well.  Grab your phone, send out a group text, and plan a last minute play date.  Wine required, post play date clean up is optional….

3.  VALUE YOUR TIME!  Shop online, pay the shipping fees and splurge the $5 to have that shit wrapped for you too.  Do not even THINK about going to the post office.  Wanda has been working the post office for 25 years, she's never been in a hurry and it's not going to start this year.  Just bypass that whole scene and save yourself a lot of time and blood pressure medication.


4.  Take time to slow down and pamper yourself.  However, make sure to allow extra time to fill out all the paperwork required when you're a new client.  I like to alternate "occupations" between trophy wife and spa blogger.

5.  Do something impromptu and fun with your kiddos!   Actually, scratch that.  Don't even think about doing that.  I tried that on Monday.  It started with me packing the van with three kids, three helmets, three scooters and a double stroller.  The "scooter" ride bliss lasted about 12 feet.  Just long enough for the kid with a super sonic sense of smell to step in dog crap.  "I smell sumpin!!  What's on my shoe?  Is it poop mommy?"  "Oh no, honey, it's just smelly mud!"  Thank you jesus, she actually fell for it.

After another 12 feet and they were tired and hungry.  Did I say we went for a scooter ride on the bike path?  I meant "I pushed a hundred pound kid/scooter combo for a mile and they complained about being tired and hungry". Being a mom is hard work!

6.  BE HAPPY and BE NICE!!

People are freeking CRABBY during the "most wonderful time of the year".   I met my hottie husband for an early breakfast yesterday and the woman at the table next to us completely LOST HER SHIT on the waiter because she didn't like her bacon.  She actually said (and I quote) "the bacon was NOT crispy enough and if I would have known it was going to be half fat, I would have ordered something different".  Wait…what?  Being an Iowa farm girl (#gohawks! #rosebowl!), I appreciate that I probably have a bit more hog knowledge than the average bear but even city folk know that bacon is (at least) half fat.  The server handled it beautifully.  He apologized, took it off her bill and said "Have a Happy Holiday!"  He came to our table and I said (loud enough so she could hear) "that's why I only lasted two days as a server.  I would have totally lost my shit on that lady!"


When you break it down, it really isn't that hard to enjoy this time (and every time) of year.    Appreciate what you have, help others when you can, order bacon, and laugh when life hands you some smelly dog crap on your scooter ride.  Because just like the holiday season seems to go by in the blink of an eye, so does this crazy thing called life.  If you don't enjoy it, you just might miss it!

MERRY CHRISTMAS!  TRY NOT TO LOSE YOUR SHIT!

XO Meg (Tipsy Mommy)

Merry F'ing Christmas….

It's the most wonderful  (horrible) time of the year….

I thought about writing one of those cheesy holiday letters this year.  You know, the kind that are always two pages, single spaced, size 12 Comic Sans font.  They talk about the parent, child, and the occasional "family" accomplishments (meet our new puppy, Fito!!)

Here are six easy steps for creating the perfect Christmas letter!

1.  Include flattering pictures of your gorgeous family

I think we can all agree that making sure everyone is facing the camera can only be trumped by the epic picture that includes your 3 year old getting tea bagged by your 18 month old.

2.  Give credit to your supportive, adorable spouse (who doesn't even realize you sent Christmas cards).

Here's a picture of John bringing his A game on a flight back to MN with our 3 kids under age 5.  I look at it and think….that guy really deserves more blow jobs.

3.  Discuss careers.

Meg quit her job and decided to stay at home with the kids.  I think everyone is enjoying the change…..

4.  Talk about each of the kids and their milestones for the year.

At the ripe age of 5, Charli is showing signs of her career aspirations…….

Sammi is learning the critical skills of getting dressed by herself.  She is also showing interest in politics and asked to go as Donald Trump for Halloween (not pictured) #thehair.

Noah is almost 2.  As the 3rd kid, he spends a majority of his time unsupervised  and getting the shit kicked out of him by Sammi. #hugturnedheadlock

5.  Talk about family adventures or trips.

John and I spent a few days in Napa again this year with our dear friends Mike and Cindy.  I always worry that the UPS guy thinks I have a drinking problem because wine gets delivered by the shit ton.  I passed him at the corner one time and he yells "Hey, Meg, I have your booze!  Are you gonna be home in an hour so I can swing back around?".  I think we can all agree that I'm straight up VIP status when the UPS guy is flagging me down at the corner.

#winepeopleproblems #weregonnaneedabiggergarage

6.  Give a general sign off and talk about being "blessed".

We look forward to seeing all of you in the new year and pray for good health, good friends and a shit ton of good wine for all of you.  God bless you in the new year.

 6.  Crack a box of wine, crank the christmas music, address, and send! Oh, and remember, the holidays should be about all the laughter, all the family and all the fun (and YES it really should be fun!)

Happy holidays from our Shit Show to yours….

Road Trip!

Here's what I've learned about traveling with kids.   It totally f'ing blows.  The floor of the swagger wagon is completely covered in "snack debris" with the occasional spilled sippy cup.  Nothing is more awesome than a partially soaked graham cracker on the bottom of your foot.  Last time, I actually made a handwritten sign that I held up to passing cars that said "Will Trade Kids for Wine".  I got a couple of laughs but no takers on the trade.

The kids language is horrific after two hours in the car.  Sam wanted her sippy cup back after hurling it in a fit of travel rage at Johns head.  I couldn't find where the damn thing landed so I said "sorry, sam, I can't find it."   She gave an exasperated sigh and said, "Oh fuck it.  I don't need it".  This actually felt like an ENORMOUS win for me so I just said "Thanks for being flexible sam!"  Bra. vo!

And then you have to deal with "potty" issues.  Sidebar:  I have to say that I'd take kid potty issues over adult male potty issues every day of the week.  Why do men get a spontaneous urge to take a crap?  It's like their bodies offer absolutely no warning for when this is going to happen.  Not only that, but it STILL takes them 30 minutes to finish the job.  It makes NO SENSE.  Either you have to go urgently, or you have to take 30 minutes.  It just can't work both ways.  I had a good friend say "I go in the bathroom and you don't know whether I shit or pissed because it takes the same amount of time.  What the hell takes men so long?"  Amen Sista.  I have no freeking idea.

Anyway, back to kid travel.  Fast forward twelve and a half hours to hotel check in.  How hard is it to swipe my credit card and give me keys that will actually open the damn door?  We have 18 wheeled carts full of shit, the kids are asleep in our arms (which are, coincidentally also asleep because I've been holding one of them for 26 minutes during check in) and we finally get to the door of our room.  We pull out the hotel key card, swipe it, and get the red f'ing light.  Of course I try it 10 more times thinking there's no way a key they JUST GAVE ME doesn't work! But, despite my optimism, we return to the front desk for another key.  I throw such a shit fit that I'm almost positive they've just given me a master key that will open any door in the hotel just to save themselves from being physically accosted if I have to walk back down there.

We put the kids in their beds and THANK YOU JESUS they stay asleep.  I head straight for the mini bar to grab a screw top single serve bottle of wine that they hand out for free on airplanes but charge you $15 for in a hotel room and say "we are never going on 'vacation' again….."

The Birds and the Bees….

In my last post, I promised to tell you the story about how I found out I was pregnant.  I was going to say "here's the story about how I got pregnant" but that story isn't actually that interesting and I was too bombed to remember the details anyway.  Whoever said "a good story never starts with a salad" was spot on.

Anyway, our beloved SamSam (the one I affectionately call an f'ing monster) was about 10 months old.    She's been a real piece of work since the minute she entered this world.  Actually, she was a monster BEFORE that…most notably during the EIGHTEEN hours of labor to physically get her into this world.  The doc who gave me the epidural was about 12 and was obviously on a performance improvement plan at Fairview Hospital.  If Sam was going to enter the world through my heel, or even my knee, I would have been GOLDEN because those things were numb as hell.  Everything north of that, not so much.  Major buzz kill.

Anyway, she was about 10 months old and was already hell on Robeez.  We were preparing to move to a new city for my hubby's job and he's 100 years old so we decided that our family was complete with the four of us.

I was spending a lot of time at the gym but still didn't feel like I was getting great results.  The girls were sleeping fairly well but I could still barely pull myself out of bed every morning.  I stopped by the pharmacy on my way home from work to pick up a refill on my birth control pills.  The pharmacist comes over and asks if I have any questions.  I explain that I am tired and bloated and suggest that I might want to try a new pill with fewer side effects.   He looks puzzled and says "When was your last menstrual cycle".  I reply "2010 (it was 2013 at the time) but I've basically been pregnant and/or nursing since then."  He pauses and says "Is there a chance you could be pregnant?"  I do the laugh that makes a noise and say "No way!  I've had two kids, I would know if I was pregnant…I mean…I'd be tired….bloated……shit….shit….shit".   I grab the pills and race to the "adult" aisle at Target.  I buy the EPT 3 pack and bolt home.

John was out of town at the time (shocker!) so I decided I would take the test after I put the girls to bed.    The plus sign showed up INSTANTLY.  I had the obvious reaction….I barfed.  You would have thought I was a 16 year old taking the pregnancy test in my parents basement for god's sake.

I called the next day to make an OB appointment.   I show up and the doc basically repeats the questions the pharmacist asked me.  They confirm that I'm pregnant and decide to do a "dating ultra sound".  I quip "what are you? match.com for fetuses?"  He's not amused.

The ultra sound reveals that I'm 11.5 weeks pregnant.  He suggests that I stop taking the birth control pills.  I reply "No shit, sherlock".  He then asks me "Do you drink regularly?"  I laugh (out loud) and say "Umm…I instagrammed a picture of a mojito I was drinking at LUNCH yesterday…BY MYSELF."  He gave me the understandable judgement face and says "I'd recommend refraining from alcohol going forward".  The shock of the past 24 hours had resulted in a semi permanent loss of my "filter" so I quickly respond "Do you think I should maybe wean it (the fetus) off the booze?  Or should I definitely do cold turkey?" He didn't actually speak but his "look" gave me the answer.  I quickly agreed "yeah, I mean, I agree, cold turkey for sure."  He then tells me that John and I should start talking about more permanent measures to prevent pregnancy if we don't want any additional children.  Boy, Captain Obvious is a real genius!!

I must say, it all ended perfectly.  Pregnancy flies by a lot quicker when you drink through the first trimester and at the end we ended up with the most adorable little boy who turned out just perfect despite my mojito lunches during the first trimester.  As my mom reassured me "I drank all the time when I was pregnant with you kids and you guys turned out just fine!"  Well…that's debatable….

SAHM seeks SAHM for drinking and playdates….(in that order)

It's been awhile…I mean, a LONG while.  So, here's what has happened since my last blog.  I had ANOTHER kid (yes I'm serious.  However, we finally figured out how it happens so this is the last one) and we moved to a new city.  Oh, and I quit my "sort of real job" to be a stay at home mom.  Other than every single aspect of my life changing, things are pretty status quo for me.

Moving is SCARY!!  It's hard to think about leaving your entire support system and having to start all over.  Ok, I admit, I didn't lose my ENTIRE support system.  Our nanny moved with us which pretty much confirms that she's either overpaid or has the hots for my husband.  I knew I never should have waived my nanny "200 rule" (age plus weight must be at least 200).   Anyway, we'll see how that plays out over the next five years.  Wish me luck.

We moved to Cincinnati.  For those of you who might not know, it's in OHIO.  I'll blog more about that later.

Now that I'm stay at home mom, I have a question…..Why are moms so freeking competitive?  They say "my kid is so gifted"  "My kid is such a great eater" "She can speak two languages already" (one of which is always FRENCH as if you can do anything with French other than order a freeking baguette at au bon pain) blah blah blah.  I'm looking for those moms who want to win the "my kid is a bigger bitch than your kid" or "my kids going to be on a higher dose of ritalyn by age 4 than your kid" contest.  I mean, I can't be the only one who has a two year old who has bitch slapped both a 2 month old and a 90 year old.  No ageists in this house.

I started to think maybe I was revealing too much too soon, you know, the same pitfall when you're doing "real" dating.  So I started thinking about the sort of stories I should probably save for the second or third "mom date" …let me know what you think..

1) The one about how my 2 year old bites or hits her brother EVERY SINGLE DAY.  When she gets in trouble she just laughs and says "He tough".  I started taking away her blanket when she is rough with the baby.  She loves that thing more than the feeling of newborn flesh between her teeth so I thought for sure that was going to work like a charm!  And for the first couple times, it did.  But then, boy, that shit backfired.  The other day she said "mama.  blankee" and handed it to me.  Then she walked over and cold clocked her brother.

2) My four year old is a freeking parrot.  You'll think she's totally engrossed in Dora because she doesn't respond to a single question you ask her so you go ahead and give your sister a blow by blow of everything going on in your life without worrying about S-P-E-L-L-I-N-G any of the naughty words.  Then you drop her off at pre school the next day and when the teacher says "Hi Charli!  How was your morning?"  She responds instantly with "oh, Sam was a total f'ing shit show again".  Thank god I can think on my feet so I did the only thing you CAN do in that situation.  I looked at the teacher and said "Are you saying those kinds of things in class?  That's horrible!  Clean up your language potty mouth!" To be honest, I was just thrilled that she said "f'ing" instead of the full word.  Thank god I try to be efficient on the phone.

The really nice thing about "mom" friends is that its sort of like having your own personal network of pediatricians.  I mean for some stay at home moms, they hit the jackpot and had an MD degree fly out of their vag right after the placenta of their first mensa member.   I mean, these moms are freaks of nature.  They have that "developmental milestone" chart memorized and it's their mom-ic duty to tell you when your kid is lagging behind.  And they have an all out hay day when your kid bites their kid.  It's like the parental advice jackpot.  They have all the solutions on how to get it to stop.  And they always say "bite them back" which, coincidentally, I have tried and that result was worse than project blankee.  I bit her back once, and, of course, she laughed and started biting even MORE.  Then she bit her brother when daddy was around one time.  And daddy said "We don't bite in this house!" and of course the little shit strings together her first two word sentence (3 months after her "milestone date" for two word sentences) and says "mommy bites".  He turns to me and the look on my face said it all.  Thank god his only response was "Jesus christ meg".  I'm thinking, great, now Charli's going to take the name of the lord in vain when I drop her off tomorrow….

DDM's (Dense Daddy Moments)

Maternal instinct is a commonly used phrase that refers to how mom's just "know" what their kids need.  Have you ever heard the phrase "paternal instinct"? I honestly can't think of a single time that I've heard the phrase because, lets be honest, daddy's can be downright clueless. Here are a few of my favorite acronyms for DDM's (dense daddy moments)...

SSW- Stating the Spelled Word.
Meg "She already had c-o-o-k-i-e-s today"
John "cookies?"
way to go genius, you know how to freeking spell cookies. And now that you said the word out loud our kid is going to refer to them non-stop like rainman until I break down and let her have one more.

The Thanny (ok, so it's not a an acronym---it's a combo phrase like Brangelina)
This term gets used at our house anytime daddy changes a diaper. One side is a complete thong. The entire right ass cheek is hanging out. The other side is full on granny pantie coverage all the way across her hip. It's guaranteed to catch, well, absolutely NOTHING that the little shit (no pun intended) puts in their diaper.

NSB- No Soap Bath
"She sits in there for 30 minutes, you really think she needs soap when she's playing in the warm water for that long?" You know what honey, you're right, how the hell do soap companies make any money because clearly I'm the only idiot who thinks its actually required to get clean.

DC-Daddy Clean
This can be used when referring to the child who has just exited the NSB or when referring to a kitchen that was cleaned without the use of a sponge, broom, spray type cleaner or any kind of towel.

DBR- Daddy Bedtime Routine
 I often sit in the kitchen during DBR and think they must be deep cleaning charli's room and moving every single piece of furniture in there. You also hear sounds that make you think a plane is flying over your house but alas, its just daddy and the kid playing "airplane" during "wind down time". When daddy emerges from DBR he always has the same genuinely confused remark "honestly, I don't know why she never goes to bed for me". I can't even comment.

DDB- Daddy Diaper Bag
First of all, it's not a bag. It's a ziploc. It contains one diaper and a package of wet ones hand wipes.  Don't be impressed because he's considered that the kids hands will get dirty at the park, after all, that's what shirts are for.  He grabbed them with the full intention of using them on your kids ass before using the sole diaper as a thanny for the kid who shits first.

DT- Daddy Time (aka STFM slower than f'in molasses)
Me "Can you put Charli in her car seat while I pack the swim bag and diaper bag?"
Daddy "Sure"
I pack the swim bag, pack the diaper bag, change the baby and then decide I have time to throw in a load of laundry, assuming I can actually find the washing machine behind the mountain of dirty clothes.  7 minutes later I walk out the door and see my husband and daughter on the THIRD STEP of our house. Not even kidding you, they made it less than 7 feet in 7 minutes.

Where is my corkscrew?

If you enjoyed this post, please visit my blog for more comedy…. http://tipsymommy2.blogspot.com

Second Time Mamas

So, they have these things called "mom's groups".  Each one varies a bit, however, the general goal is for new mom's to get together to talk about their kids and bitch about their husbands.  

I made the mistake of joining a mom's group at my pre natal yoga studio for my first child.  Holy left wing nut jobs.  I almost quit the first day when one of the mom's was tandem nursing her infant and her 3 year old but I did what any good mom would do....I decided to stick it out so I'd have some good weekly material for my Facebook posts.  

So, TN (tandem nurser) was not the most fit mommy of the bunch and her beebows (as my neice calls them) had seen better, and higher, days.  The 3 year old was a classic "snacker"...meaning that she just wanted a little snack every few minutes.    Anyway, there's no way to give this story it's full value without getting a little graphic.  So, the 3 year old decides to get a little drink so she goes over to the mom and lays across her lap.  She's a little on the lazy side for a toddler so she asks her mom to throw her some boob so she can wet her whistle.   The toddler tries to just tilt her head to start her breast milk keg stand but it's too low for her to reach that way (#gravityiswinning).  No joke, the kid grabs the boob like a freeking sippy cup and then starts looking around at all of us while she's drinking.  

Fast forward almost exactly two years later.  I decided that the yoga studio group wasn't really my speed (especially not in an election year) so I joined another group.  This one was for "second time mama's" (translation, you've got another monster running around in addition to the one who just ripped you a new one a few short months ago).  I was referred to the group by a friend so I was optimistic.  I pull into the parking lot and see another woman there who I know instantly is the token crier and very possibly another tandem nurser.  The "leader" of the group takes her role very seriously.  A second time mama was explaining how her daughter starts crying whenever her husband gives her a bottle and while shes crying he just keeps forcing the bottle on her (which the mom thinks is obviously a horrible choice).  The leader says in all seriousness "Well, I think we have an issue of aggressive bottling here".  I bust out laughing (the laugh that actually makes sound) and say "Excuse me sir, you've been charged with aggressive bottling" in my best "cop" voice.  Everyone gives me this horrified look-- you would have thought I walked into the place with a "I love to shake babies" shirt on.  I tried to stifle my giggles but that was like trying to stop laughing in church.   The next woman talks about how she can't get her baby to take a pacifier.  She said she tries to force her to take it but she won't.  Are you freeking kidding me?  How was I supposed to walk away from that softball?  So of course I say "I think we have a case of aggressive pacifying here".   I did see two of the girls crack a legitmate smile so I could tell I was cracking the shell of these oh so serious second time mamas.  Stay tuned for more tales of moms groups (and all the other crap that happens to me)…