I might have tattoos.
My hair may be green.
You might look at me and think “gosh she looks mean.”
I might have one baby, perhaps more like four.
But stop for just one minute because maybe there is more.
I might be a mom who loves super deep.
I do a great job kissing boo boos and brushing teeth.
I might look real different but my job is still the same.
I take care of my babies through heartache and pain.
It’s time to stop pointing and embrace who we are.
We’re Moms of all circumstances who love unbelievable hard.
So please bite your tongue if you see me at the park.
My role is the same as yours, to see my children through the dark.
It’s takes a village as they say to raise these tiny tots.
So as mothers let’s unite because our job is to love lots and lots.

Let’s end Mom Wars!


barbie and ken


Are you friends with any couples on Facebook that feel it necessary to show the world how much they love each other?  Constantly sending each other love letters for the world to read.  Well, my husband and I are friends with THOSE people. Let’s call them Barbie and Ken. Barbie and Ken can make you feel inadequate about your relationship in a mere nanosecond.

We first met Barbie and Ken about 7 years ago. When I first encountered Barbie I was amazed and astonished by her tale. She was a single mother of three who met a man who fell desperately in love with her.  They soon married and had two beautiful children of their own; increasing their family size to seven, yes I said SEVEN.


I slowly learned the details of their relationship and was dumbfounded. I asked one day, “What did you cook for dinner last night?” Her reply, “My husband made spaghetti.” I quickly questioned, “Ken cooks?”  I proceeded to ask, “Has he always cooked?” Her reply, “Yes, he cooks, cleans, grocery shops, and drops the kids off in the mornings.” My mind was racing. What the hell was this woman saying? Her husband cooks meals, cleans toilets and showers, and handles the kids. How can this be happening? There are men on this planet that know what a toilet brush is for? There are men with brains in their heads that sit on their shoulders and not just in the crotch of their pants? No, it isn’t true. It can’t be.


Where did this man learn to buy more than beer and toilet paper from the grocery store?  How can this be true? He must be a genetic mutation of sorts. My husband would sit in a pile of shit swarming with flies if I would allow it. What on earth could this woman possibly be doing to get her husband to do these things? My disbelief was unnerving, dare I say alarming.


She continued to captivate me with stories of the daily tasks that he performs. The final straw broke when she informed me that he coupon-ed! Holy hell, the man clips coupons! It was at that point that the light went on; as though I had been seeing only in black and white for my entire life. Barbie must be some type of sexual savant. Her vagina must be MAGICAL. Perhaps it plays the flute. Her vagina must beckon him like a siren, singing sweet musical notes that fascinate him and force him to coupon until his fingers bleed.



What other possible explanations could there be. Her vagina, I thought, must be like looking directly into the sun. Glowing and bursting until you can bear no more. When she lays in wait for him and slowly opens her thighs, does her vagina release a tractor beam pulling him in like the Star Ship Enterprise?  Beaming him up into inter-galactic ecstasy?


I must know how she became the Pied Piper of Pudenda (AKA Private Parts).  Did she take lessons? Was her mother a Madam? Was she secretly a stripper that worked her way through college? I sat there at a loss for words. I didn’t even know how to finish the conversation. I was enamored with Barbie.


I myself do all of the cooking, cleaning, and scrubbing of the shit stained toilets,  I even mow the fucking lawn. I sat there sadly thinking the only thought I could. My vagina must be BROKEN. There are no musical notes making their way out of my barren hole. I am the opposite of a musician. I am the equivalent of the worst cast off in American Idol history. My poor husband has suffered through years of tone-deaf intercourse. This is obviously why my husband refuses to help out around the house. I have blamed him for years, when in reality it is my damaged, crippled Va-Jay Jay.

It is now my life’s goal to teach my vagina to play the magical flute. At some point I will rule over my husband and watch while he washes shit stained underware and scrubs burnt pots and pans. I will have my revenge. I will become a concert flautist! My vagina will reign supreme.


Living in Florida can be a very relaxed life style. That is…… until season arrives. Season is the time of year when my small, quiet, never sit in traffic town becomes filled with senior citizens. A sea of grey rolls into town via a caravan of Buick Lesabres and conversion vans. It becomes awful to try to book a dentist apt, doctors apt, go out to dinner, drive, park, shop, or do any of the other things that we do so peacefully throughout the rest of the year. I walked into the grocery store yesterday at 2:00 PM and there were literally no shopping carts left. I only had two items to pay for and I was behind an 85 yr old woman who stood talking with the cashier for over 10 minutes about her nagging Bursitis. It lead me to think about the major topics that we should steer clear of when interactive with these creatures that we call “Snow Birds”. Below are 5 avoid at all cost conversation topics.


  1. Can I go ahead of you in line? I asked a man last week if I could jump him in the grocery line because I really had only one item and I had the kids with me. He looked at me with such a look of disgust and said, “What do you think, that I have nothing better to do all day then wait in line?” Ummmm, yeah that is exactly what I thought. This man wasn’t going to work, preventing a forest fire, or currently building a bridge. So I just smiled and went to another line with my three min-terrorists and daydreamed about taking a crap in his shopping cart.


  1. Whats the weather like back home? Yikes, do not ask someone from up north what the weather is like. For some reason snow birds have figured out how to use their smart phone to check the weather app and spend 15 minutes talking about the -5 degree weather that their family and friends are suffering in. After a woman last week told me that “It’s colder than a witches tit” I stopped asking that question. I personally don’t care about the weather up north and was attempting to be polite. I’m a permanent FL resident for a reason. Shame on me.


  1. How are you feeling? While at the dentist last month I was sitting in the waiting room and a woman next to me commented on how good my son was being. I asked how so was doing, and got a 10 minutes dissertation on her arthritis, gout, diabetes, and several other ailments that I had to Web MD search when I got home. She was very graphic with her medical descriptions and I later had to explain what a boil was to my 4 yr old. Once again, shame on me.


  1. Will your children visit this year?  If you ever wonder what your parents or grand parents say about you to total strangers if they ask about their family, you would most likely not believe it. I have a neighbor who lives here for about 4 months out of the year. She stopped me the other day while I was getting the mail. I asked this question never expecting this response. It went something like this; “So will your kids be visiting soon?” “My kids, HA! My son avoids my calls like the plaque, and my daughter in law is a whore. She never takes time to bring the grand kids down to see us, although the kids are real jerks.” There was a seriously awkward pause as I backed away with my mail and ran into my house.


  1. When will you go back up north? Season usually runs from October to just after Easter in April. As soon as it gets warm the birds flock back up north for cooler temperatures. I was at a salon a few weeks ago and I asked a fellow customer this question. Her reply was honest with a touch of rude. She stated “We will head back in April. I will miss the weather, but I need more culture to survive.” I sat there thinking about what kind of culture she was so desperately seeking, but I really don’t care. Then I thought, “I live here year round, so I must be culture-deprive baboon.”  April can’t come soon enough.

So although we do need the snow birds to boost our economy this time of year, I could go without some of these unpleasant interactions. I have figured out that if I tell one of my kids to pretend to be sick when the birds approach, they fly away as quickly as possible. So I will only eat out after 9 PM, shop after 7 PM, try not to drive anywhere between the hours of 9AM-8PM, and I will pray I don’t require any medical attention.



That’s Inappropriate


Let me start by saying this post has been on my mind for a very long time. If you have never enjoyed a hemorrhoid, let me fill you in. It is one of the most uncomfortable experiences you can have as a human being. They are irritating, painful, itchy, and all around agonizing. I would like to take the next few minutes to explain why children are similar to hemorrhoids.


1. Timing: You never know when you will get a hemorrhoid. You can be having a great day and then all of a sudden, BOOM…Your ass has been invaded by an awful pain that can make a grown man cry for his Momma. Children seem to have the same knack with timing. You might be in the middle of doing your taxes, a DIY project, perhaps a self-breast exam, and then BOOM… a kid has shown up without notice and are all up in your business.


2. Irritation: A hemorrhoid is one of the most irritating of all physical afflictions. They itch and burn and it is painful to sit. You can’t seem to get comfortable. Children can be the most irritating things on the planet. I am positive that I was asked the exact same question 27 times today before I finally blew my top and chased my 4-year-old with my flip-flop. Children also make it impossible to sit. How many times have you attempted to sit down and your children need something; perhaps food, water, love, or attention. It is so irritating.


3. Location: Hemorrhoids are located in a very delicate part of ones anatomy. Yes, directly in the center of where the sun don’t shine. I find that my children love to crawl their way directly into that spot throughout the day. I can be alone in the kitchen, and not 30 seconds later I turn around with at least one child directly up my ass. They have the ability to basically implant themselves into your anus just like said hemorrhoid.


4. Pressure: The main cause of most people’s hemorrhoids is too much pressure on the veins in your nether region. I can safely say that my children put more pressure on me then my spouse, my boss, my friends, or any other people on this or any other planet. Children can make you feel like you live directly inside of a pressure cooker, ready to explode at any given time. I have in fact exploded in public on a few occasions, including the grocery store, bank, library, doctors office, park, etc.


5. Rushing: One of the main causes of developing a hemorrhoid is rushing to complete you daily constitutional. If you are rushed in the bathroom, you may find these painful playmates in your downstairs parts. Can you think of  time that your children have rushed you? Hummmmmm…. Let me think about that one. How about being rushed to leave the grocery store, bank, library, doctors office, but probably not the park. My entire life is in a constant state of fast forward. Not to mention I am always being rushed out of the bathroom by at least one, if not all three of my children.


So I leave you with this short list of similarities, and no real advice on how to care for either hemorrhoids or children. I have used Preparation H for hemorrhoids, but I don’t think it would be beneficial to smear it all over your children. You could attempt that, but it won’t solve the problem, and its super expensive. So let me know if you find a solution and I will happily share it out to the world.

Sincerely, Anally aggravated parent of three



That’s Inappropriate



With Valentines Day less than 24 hours away, it is time to plan and get ready for some serious sexy time. Setting the mood is so important for this super sexy holiday. Music is one of the best ways to ensure success in igniting the fire. Below I have listed the top 5 most unromantic tunes to bone to.


1. Closer by Nine Inch Nails: If you have not heard this erotic tune, let me fill you in….

You let me violate you

You let me desecrate you

You let me penetrate

You let me complicate you…

I want to F#ck you like an animal.

No woman wants to hear that you want to mate like wild animals. I myself have the ability to complicate my own life, I don’t need anyone to desecrate, violate, or imagine animal penetration with me.


2. Animal by Maroon 5: I am a big, no wait HUGE Adam Levine fan. I have seen him live and would go see him again. I do not however want to make whoopie to this song. In this song portrays a serial killer stalking a woman.

Baby, I’m preying on you tonight
Hunt you down eat you alive
Just like animals, animals, like animals-mals
Maybe you think that you can hide
I can smell your scent from miles
Just like animals, animals, like animals-mals

Sometimes I go a few days without a shower, I guess my husband would be able to smell me from miles away. I simply do not have any desire to be hunted down like an animal. I have three kids, they would be able to track me down for sure. So when I’m in the middle of making magic, I don’t want to think about being captured by a serial killer and eaten alive.


3. I would do anything for love, but I wont do that by Meatloaf: So Meatloaf is a super cool guy. He has had some serious love ballads that anyone can enjoy a sack smack with. But take a look at these lyrics,

And I would do anything for love
I’d run right into hell and back
I would do anything for love
I’d never lie to you and that’s a fact
But I’ll never forget the way you feel right now,
Oh no, no way
And I would do anything for love, but I won’t do that
No, I won’t do that

So let me get this straight, you will go to Hell and back, but you wont do what? I cant think of a worse place to be then Hell, soooooo what won’t Meatloaf do? I need a man who will go to that place for me if I’m going to let them inside my secret garden. Come on Meatloaf, put on your big boy pants and sack up!


4. I will always love you by Whitney Houston: No one on the planet can sing a sexy love song like Whitney, can I get an Amen. I mean this woman had a voice like liquid gold. This song however is not as sexy as you would imagine. This song is actually about breaking up and moving on. Take a look.

Bittersweet memories –
That is all I’m taking with me.
So good-bye.
Please don’t cry:
We both know I’m not what you, you need
And I… will always love you

In the middle of a sweet sensual love-making session, I do not need to think that we are gonna break up. I will start to cry and it will get all weird and so not sexy. So Whitney…this tune is staying out of the bedroom.


5. Baby it’s cold outside by Frank Loesser: I find myself singing this song long after the holidays and the cold weather has passed. It is such a sexy song when Michael Buble sings it. His voice is like silk, that is until you listen to the lyrics.

I’ll take your hat, your hair looks swell
I ought to say no no no, sir
Mind if I move in closer?
At least I’m gonna say that I tried
What’s the sense in hurting my pride?
I really can’t stay
Baby, don’t hold out
Baby it’s cold outside
(You’re very pushy you know)
(I’d like to think of it as opportunistic)

So now that we all know this song is about date rape, I guess we can file it under the not-super romantic category. Buble says opportunistic, I say pedophile. Either way it should be prison time.  I wonder if Bill Cosby listened to this song often???

So in the end, if you want your sexy time to be heated, heavy, hard, and filled with harmony, stay away from these top 5 unromantic tunes for this valentines day. XOXOX





48 hours until the day I have been waiting for. Yes, it has been two long years. LONG, very LONG. Ladies it is time. Soon enough I will be in a theater will hundreds of other horny housewives that can’t wait to meet Mr. Christian Grey. This movie has a lot to live up to. To be completely honest, I am nervous that I will end up disappointed. I was able to create my version of Mr. Grey. Will Jamie Dornan be able to fulfill my needs??? I can only hope that this will be the first of a series of films that will rock my thirty-something, mother of three libido into a frenzy. This movie has made me think about what will come after the fact. With such anticipation, I can only imagine that this movie will cause some major side effects. Like an earthquake, I am expecting the shock waves to be felt for quite some time after the release of the film. Below I have listed the top 5 Side effects of the 50 Shades premier.


  1. October Baby Boom: With so many women ready and waiting for this Friday, I think it is safe to say that there will be more fireworks this month than on the fourth of July. October will be scarier for a different reason this year. Watch out Halloween, I predict that we will see a rise in October births. There is no way to avoid this. Women will be so drunk on smut, and most likely booze, poor choices will lead to a baby boom in the fall.


  1. Bada Bing: Toys, toys, toys, and zip ties. I am predicting that sales will sky-rocket in the adult entertainment industry. Housewives across the globe will soon find a need for a butt-plug and whip. UPS and FEDEX delivery drivers will be working overtime to supply erotic toy time to middle-aged yoga pants wearing Moms. Mom’s, don’t forget to put away the toys, you don’t want little Johnny to find a light up vibrating stick and think its time to play Star Wars. “No Johnny, that is not a light saber!”


  1. Husband Euphoria: Men across the world will be enjoying weeks, perhaps month (Once this hits DVD and pay per view) of UN-initiated sex. That’s right boys, the Mrs. may be begging you for it. She will be like putty in your hands. No longer will you hear, “I have a headache”, rather it will be, “Have you seen the handcuffs?” My advice, let her call you Christian.


  1. Sexual Harassment Suits will Sky-Rocket: Women in a position of power in the work place will be unable to control their urges. Soon enough, case after case will surface where women are found guilty of locking the office door and chasing male employees with nipple clamps and blindfolds. There will be no stopping boss lady from tearing into the mail-room intern who is guilty of mishandling the mail. Obviously, this young man is in need of some stern corrections by the hands of a dominant .


  1. Insurance Deductibles will be Crushed: Getting tied up and spanked in the Red Room is something that every 50 Shades fan dreams about. I predict that many men will be found at their local Urgent Care Centers, suffering from rope burn, whip lacerations, and nipple chaffing. Don’t forget to complete your honey-do list, being disobedient can land you in the hospital. On the bright side, frequent 50 Shades fliers (Men treated for erotic injuries) will need to download their 50 Shades co-insurance card in order to ensure a discount.


So here’s to this movie living up to the ideal we have in our filthy dirty minds. I never understood crazy people waiting in long lines in the cold for a TV that’s on sale, but believe me….I get it now. Good thing I already fandango-ed my ticket. See you there dirty old women….I can’t wait. #50ShadesofGrey





“Welcome To Time Out”

Mom Version of Taylor Swifts “Welcome to New York”

I find that I sing this tune very frequently in my home. Please feel free to sing along while you send your sweet child to time-out.


Welcome to your room, Mom slams the door

Crying, flailing limbs, tears and so much more

Everybody listens as you scream and roar

Searching for a wooden spoon, Mom counts to four

And she says

Welcome to Time-Out

Its been waiting for you

Welcome to Time-Out

Welcome to Time-Out

You’re stuck now child

Feel free to cry and stomp your feet, feet

Ten minutes more

Cuz I can’t stand your shreeeeeeek, shreeeeeek

Welcome to Time-Out

Its been waiting for you

Welcome to Time-Out

Welcome to Time-Out

When you first threw your cup and bowl on the floor

Took your spoon and fork, ran and slammed the door

Everybody here knows you’ve been before

Because you want what you want

Boy oh boy bad choice and more

Welcome to Time-Out

Its been waiting for you

Welcome to Time-Out

Welcome to Time-Out

You’re stuck now child

Feel free to cry and stomp your feet, feet

Ten minutes more

Cuz I can’t stand your shreeeeeeek, shreeeeeek

It doesn’t matter if you can carry a tune or not. Sing loud and proud!!





I like my minivan. It is practical, safe, and drives like a dream. It fits the whole family very comfortably. I never thought I could be so content with a minivan. What’s my point? I know at some time in the near future, maybe 3-4 years, I will get rid of my van. It will hit 100,000 miles and I will trade it in for a newer version. So once again, what’s my point? Cars, homes, appliances, and people all have a shelf life. My minivan will get kicked to the curb when that odometer hits 6 digits. So the question at hand is, what is my odometer reading, and will I get traded in?

As a woman in her mid-thirties, with a body that has been destroyed by child-birth three times, I think about being traded in. I’m not blind. I can see the newer, shiny versions that travel the block. Perky breasts, tight asses, and hair that is free of boogers and spit up. I myself admire those versions, I remember being that version. I am also aware of the fact that each year, gravity is more and more vengeful and there isn’t much I can do about it.

With my minivan there is no guessing. I can see the odometer each day. There are no surprises. It is clear and precise. 60,342 miles have been accrued. How many miles have I accrued? If you judge it by the dark circles under my eyes, or the pains in my knees and back, my mileage is pretty substantial for a mid-thirties model. I do my best to exercise and eat well, but the three blood sucking vampires that I live with make it difficult to look like the twenty something model that is dent free with still inflated tires.

When I go to the dealership to trade in my minivan it will not be a shock. I will be ready for the trade. I will do research on my next vehicle; I will be able to prepare myself mentally. I guess my real fear is that since I can’t see my odometer reading, will I be shocked if I get traded in? Will I be blindsided and feel like those poor crash test dummies, all mangled and broken?

The thought of having to start the dating process all over again is daunting. I can’t imagine what it must be like to be single again. When you go car shopping, you can ask for an accident report or a Car Fax. I guess that’s what dating is like after marriage. “Hi, it’s nice to meet you. How many kids do you have? Any major accidents or surgeries I should know about? Do you have a good health insurance plan? How about your 401K? Is your Mother still alive?” Yikes!!! Check please.

So in the end, will the odometer reading determine if I get traded in, or will it only increase my value and cause me to become a classic? There is the possibility that my husband will love the vintage look and keep me around for the long haul. Men have odometer as well, so I guess I could consider a trade. It’s a good thing for him that I hate car shopping. I wonder what the Car Fax on a thirty something, bald father of three looks like? My guess is it’s a comparative value to a 60,324 mile Minivan Mom.