Tag Archives: Humor

Forty & Published

Posted in Books, Family, Humor, Parenting, Writing by

Ever since my book, What It Means To Be a Mom, came out in April I’ve been feeling all the feels: excited, nervous, hopeful, proud, you know, the emotions a new mom normally experiences after welcoming her baby into the world. But I haven’t sat down to fully process those feelings until now because who has time to sit? Moms certainly don’t! (See below)

My first official book came out and a week later I turned 40!

FORTY!

What in the actual WHAT?

I must’ve pinched myself a million times between the book and my birthday. At least the excitement over the book took the sting out of turning the big 4-0.

Two momentous occasions came together to make this a truly unforgettable year for me. It’s been thrilling to share my book with my family, especially my girls, and to revel in the attention for doing something other than the dishes and the laundry. I’m proud and grateful to have had the opportunity to put my words into print and be a part of this series of adorable books, but along with that comes the pressure of hoping readers will embrace it which explains why I’ve distracted myself with momming instead of writing, blogging, and promoting my book baby.

Following the book release I was busy getting the word out on social media through the help of friends and fellow writers. I’m forever indebted to them for their support. In addition to those platforms, I hosted a virtual event through a local bookstore, something I was absolutely terrified to do, but mommed up and got it done. There was a nerve-wracking radio interview in there too but I must’ve blown it because I never heard if it aired or not. Which is probably part of the reason why I checked out after checking those things off my to-do list. I told myself I deserved a break and I took one…for six months.

I let life get busy with playdates, activities, camping trips, and now school and sports schedules and I moved the book to the back burner. I expected things to slow down enough for me to find time to devote to the book but time had other ideas and now it’s almost the holiday season. Ugh with a capital U. That makes me want to go into hibernation for another six months. But I won’t hide because that’s all part of the “chaos” of motherhood that I lovingly include in my book and will one day look back on and miss.

So, if you’re looking for a gift for a special mom you know will appreciate a dose of humor and heart at one of the most stressful times of the year then look no further and order my book here. It’s the perfect stocking stuffer size, not to mention, she’ll love reading it in her new robe while the kids litter the living room floor with wrapping paper and boxes.

Mom Tips & More

Posted in #Books, Humor, Mommy Blog, Parenting, Writing by

Motherhood is full of advice whether you ask for it or not.

We all know the worst kind of advice is unsolicited especially when you’re hanging on by a thread in the middle of the grocery store with a tantrum-ing child. Those are the moments that make us say, “Not today, Edna!”

Then there are the mom tips that are actually helpful and make us say, “I wish I’d known that from the beginning.” Like this one from my upcoming book, What It Means To Be a Mom.

What It Means To Be a Mom is full of funny pro tips that might actually come in handy, and if they don’t, at least they made you laugh! (Because we all need to laugh more than ever these days!)

In addition to pro tips, I’ve included some undeniable facts of #momlife and many encouraging words to support moms at every stage of motherhood. These are just a few reasons why my book is the ultimate gift for Mother’s Day, not to mention it’s adorable as all get out!

Pre-order your copies for all the moms and mom friends in your life today at Amazon or Barnes and Noble

Sorry/Not Sorry

Posted in Family, Humor, Mommy Blog, Parenting by

 

hair meme

Imagine the 80’s.

Now imagine 80’s hair, bangs to be exact. Nope, EVEN bigger with EVEN more hairspray.

Now imagine 8-year-old me sitting on the edge of the bathtub in our powder blue bathroom as my mom brushes, fluffs, and sprays my bangs into what can only be described as The Feathered Poodle.

feathered poodle

There was whining about how much longer I had to wait, complaining that she was hurting me, and endless fidgeting while she tried to finish up as quickly as possible. I know I wasn’t the most agreeable client, heaving exasperated sighs in my mom’s face and ignoring all of her pleas to just sit still. When she accidentally pulled my hair as a result of my inability to follow directions and remain motionless, she had to have felt some smug satisfaction. This is exactly how sorry/not sorry became a thing. Sure, she was sorry, but not as sorry as she said. She did try to warn me after all. I admit I’ve been guilty of this a time or two since having kids, so I know my mom had to feel this way also.

My mom would never have hurt me intentionally, I mean, other than making me look like a circus poodle. She was (and still is) the sweetest, most patient person I’ve ever met, but some tiny part of me knows that she couldn’t help but smirk at my momentary discomfort. I’m sure I had it coming anyway. Despite my adorable appearance (HA!) I could be quite bratty, but only to my mom. That old saying that we hurt the ones we love the most proving true.

My mom liked doing my hair, probably because she was good at it, and maybe that’s why I can’t be bothered. My hair skills are meh at best. She’d spend time separating my stick-straight hair into sections, wrapping it around spongy pink rollers that I’d sleep in, just so I could wake up and have curly hair which would then be a nightmare to brush out. Sometimes she’d braid it in one tight braid at the top of my head and I’d swing it around like a helicopter. While I loved the outcome, I didn’t love the process.

Now that I have two daughters I know what a pain doing their hair can be. Simply hearing the word, “snarls,” gives me PTSD, and must be why I keep it as simple as possible. Their options are: up in a ponytail or down. That’s it. I can’t imagine curling bangs, elaborate braids, or anything else that requires more than two minutes.

I love these moments in parenthood when we get glimpses into what it must have been like for our own parents, the realization that they were human beings, trying their best with kids who made remaining calm and patient impossible at times. Doing my girls’ hair now and having this understanding of what my mom must have felt helps me realize that one day I’ll look back and remember only the happy memories too, like feeling my little one’s silky golden strands between my fingers or her big sister’s perfect curls, pulling them down just to watch them spring back up. I won’t remember the rushed mornings of battling tangled bed-head as we run out the door, and hopefully they won’t either.

In the end, even if my mom was genuinely sorry for accidentally pulling my hair, that feathered poodle look makes me think she got away with the ultimate revenge. Well- played, mom. Well-played.

 

 

My Christmas Story

Posted in Family, Humor, Mommy Blog, Parenting, Writing by

 

When I was little, Christmas was marshmallowy moments of pure happiness sprinkled with glittery anticipation. It was thrilling like nothing else. I’d count down the days as soon as Thanksgiving hit, growing more and more excited with each X on the calendar. I’m sure it drove my mom crazy since now my daughters constantly ask if Christmas is here yet, thus making me totally insane.

IMG_4192

My daughter has picked up where I left off

 

We all remember at least one Christmas that blew our minds and made us scream with pure joy. For me, it was when Santa left $3 in my stocking. I couldn’t believe how rich Santa was to leave me three. whole. dollars. Who knows what I even did with all that cash…probably blew it on candy. And to think those three dollars were probably a last minute idea on my father’s part when he felt like the piles and piles of presents he already got us weren’t enough. I totally get that now.

Then I got older, Christmas turned into something else, and the only thing that has brought back any kind of happiness to it, is my children. Now it’s simply about making Christmas as special for them as possible. I struggle with wanting to give them everything their little hearts desire, and not giving them too much, fearing it’ll make them greedy little jerks…

IMG_4190

More than all the toys, I hope we’re giving them magic, the kind they unwrap and keep in their hearts, the kind that will always bring them happiness. I want them to feel the wonder of a holiday that’s about so much more than the things they asked Santa for. Christmas is going to change for them as the years keep coming, but I always want them to feel that certain spark of excitement because I realize we don’t get enough of those as we get older.

Unadulterated Joy

 

It’s a…Book!

Posted in Family, Humor, Mommy Blog, Parenting, Writing by

I’ve given birth for the third time!

It doesn’t have ten fingers and ten toes, or a perfect button nose. It’s not a boy or a girl…it’s a BOOK! And to get it out into the world was nothing short of a miracle.

I’m thrilled to announce the birth of my first book,

One Funny Mummy - Ebook Cover

One Funny Mummy Defines Parenthood (in 140 Characters or Less)

I’m not claiming to be a parenting expert, but I’m sort of an expert when it comes to delivering babies and punchlines. I much prefer to deliver the latter even though it’s not easier, and sometimes it’s just as painful, but it’s rewarding in very similar ways.

While I normally feel bad for babies born in the month of December, I’m super happy that my baby is just in time for Christmas. Just in time to be stuffed into every stocking you come across. Because who doesn’t want to wake up on Christmas morning and laugh about parenthood?

The book is a best-of collection of my funny-because-they’re-true tweets that perfectly sum up parenthood. Get yourself a giant cup of coffee, (or a giant mimosa) settle into the couch that’s covered in shredded wrapping paper and plastic packaging, and read the whole thing while the kids play with their new toys.

It’s the perfect gift for anyone who likes to laugh or needs to laugh, but doesn’t have a lot of time to read anything longer than a sentence (ahem, that’s everybody these days)! You’ll feel great knowing you did your part to spread a little holiday cheer this season, not to mention, you’ll be my favorite person ever.

Plus, if you don’t buy my book it’s like saying my baby is ugly…and you don’t want to be that person.

 

 

Caring is Hard

Posted in Family, Humor, Mommy Blog, Parenting, Writing by

IMG_0485But I care. A lot.

Like most parents, I want the best for my children. But to give them the best means putting my own wants and needs on hold which can be very hard to do. It means putting my phone down, turning my distracted mind off, and interacting with them. It means reading books together when I’d rather not, going for walks when I’d rather not, playing games when I’d rather not. It’s fighting this feeling of not doing anything worthwhile. It’s reminding myself that these are the things that are actually worthwhile. These are the ways to create a fulfilled child. (You know, the whole reason we bring these little people into the world in the first place.)

Just the other day my husband and I received the highest compliment you can get as parents of young kids. A woman sitting near us in a restaurant said that we had lovely children who were so well-behaved. Granted, she might’ve had a little too much vino and we had only been there about 20 minutes before she left, so she saw them in their prime–while the crayons were still keeping them busy and the sugar from their chocolate milks hadn’t kicked in yet. Nonetheless, I stood up to accept my parent of the year award and to make a heartfelt speech about sacrifice and selflessness to our fellow diners. Kidding. We thanked her and then snickered that boy had we fooled her.

Why should I care what this complete stranger thought when I know my kids are well-behaved? I’m well aware of what it’s taken to make them this way–most of my sanity and all of my patience. At least in that moment it felt like my hard work had paid off. I guess that’s what I was thanking her for…for noticing.

I have so much I want to accomplish, yet by the time I’m done trying to mold my mini-mes into self-sufficient decent human beings who feel loved and understood, I’m just too mentally and physically exhausted to do anything but zone out to the world and keep ignoring everything I’ve put on the back burner. So I remind myself that this time in their lives where they actually want me to be a part of everything they do is short-lived and that my time is better spent sharing life with them even if it costs me my own.

Weird is Good

Posted in Family, Humor, Mommy Blog, Parenting by

I was reading to my daughter like we do every night before bed. She interrupted me like she does every night, but this time she said something that caught me off guard.

She said a kid called her weird. She sounded so sad, and for a minute, I was too.

My first reaction was to tell her to ignore this kid, but I paused and tried to think of something better, something that would help her for the next time it happens.

Then it came to me.

I told her that being weird is a good thing. It means you’re not like anyone else. So the next time someone calls you weird, you should say thank you. She laughed a delighted little giggle and I felt good, like I’d said the right thing at the right time.

As I was reveling in my parental sense of accomplishment, my daughter turned over, laughed again, and deliberately farted on me.

I couldn’t sum up parenthood more perfectly if I tried.

My 15 Seconds

Posted in Family, Humor, Mommy Blog, Parenting by

While some people get 15 minutes of fame, I’m thrilled I got 15 seconds!

Last week I was surprised to learn that one of my tweets made it onto Good Morning America!

Yes, that Good Morning America, the one on national TV.

Someone messaged me on Twitter saying that George on GMA read one of my tweets about back to school. Surely that can’t be right, I thought. This person must have me confused with someone else.

I tuned in for a few minutes before getting the kids ready for school, but nothing. Then I rushed back home after drop off, knowing that I might have a chance to catch it, if it was true. So I got my phone ready (we don’t have a DVR anymore) and waited with my finger over the record button. And this is what happened…

It really was my tweet! I was shocked and elated! To say it made my day would be a massive understatement.

Immediately I sent the clip to my husband and my mom and awaited their reactions while doing a happy dance around the living room. They were so excited. Of course my husband asked what I got out of it and of course my mom said she watched it repeatedly and sent it to everyone in her phone.

While it’s true I didn’t “get” anything out of it (except for bragging rights) it taught me an important lesson that you shouldn’t hold back or edit yourself because you never know what might happen.

Twitter used to be a place where I could get my thoughts out without second-guessing myself, but the more my account grows, the more I doubt and question everything I write. I didn’t think this tweet was anything special, it was just a true account of something in my life. It made me laugh, but I knew it wouldn’t be overly popular, certainly not morning news program popular.IMG_1759

But that’s where I was wrong. Apparently it was morning news program popular and the crowd’s reaction, whether it was genuine or played up for the cameras, was very much appreciated. It gave me a boost of confidence and taught me not to doubt myself.

I soaked up every last second of psuedo-fame, knowing that the next morning I wouldn’t be featured on TV and it’d be back to doing dishes, packing lunches, and folding laundry…you know, all the things that inspire great tweets.

 

 

 

For the Love of God Eat Your Dinner

Posted in Family, Humor, Mommy Blog, Parenting by

If there was an award for world’s pickiest eater, I would’ve held the title when I was growing up. It drove my mom to the edge, and now my daughter is exactly the same. There are a handful of things she’ll eat: peanut butter sandwiches, no jelly, just peanut butter, which isn’t crazy, but still, c’mon. She won’t eat hamburgers or hot dogs, but she’ll eat the buns and even dip them in ketchup which sounds repulsive, but I did it too when I was little. She’ll eat string cheese but not mac & cheese, no pizza, no grilled cheese, not even spaghetti. None of the “normal” things that kids eat. She’ll drink smoothies, and eat an entire carton of raspberries in one sitting, but god forbid she even try a tiny bite of potato or carrot. And forget eggs unless they’re baked into a cake.

The only thing that brings me hope is that I was the same, and today I eat way more than I did in my childhood. For me it was all about texture. I couldn’t eat anything slimy or chewy. There were many nights I had to sit at the dinner table alone because I refused to finish my pot roast or my broccoli smothered with mayonnaise…makes me gag just remembering. I used to tell my mom that certain foods gave me the shivers when I had to swallow them which makes me laugh now and think, god I was ridiculous and she must have been so frustrated with me. I’m ashamed to think of all the food I wasted.

I wish I could give my kids the three-course dinner gum from Willy Wonka minus the whole turning into a giant blueberry part. Somebody please make that happen while my kids are still young. It would make dinner time so much easier. I wouldn’t have to cook a meal that no one will eat while simultaneously keeping my kids from killing each other and burning down the house in the process.

It’s no wonder that there are people who love cooking and then there are parents.

 

And So It Begins…

Posted in Humor, Mommy Blog, Parenting by

The day my three year old started preschool was a momentous moment in my motherhood career. I was finally going to get a little break and a breather while she was at school for three glorious, whine-free hours. I wasn’t going to be one of those moms crying her eyes out because she couldn’t leave her child, but I was going to be one of those moms with tears of joy streaming down her face doing a happy dance of freedom.

happy dance

Just like this

The morning of my daughter’s first day, she got dressed, donned her horsey backpack, and stood in front of the fireplace to have her picture taken. Once she would finally listen to my direction, and I was able to get a good one, we then took another one standing by the front door. And another one next to the car. Now that I think about it, I was trying to stop time, capture every moment before she was officially a student.

Driving her to school, I was nervous. How would she do at drop off? She’d never been to daycare and had only been left with family members up until then. Would she cry and scream? Throw a tantrum? To calm my nerves, I turned on the music. And wouldn’t you know it, that damn Frozen soundtrack was playing. Of course it was on, Let it Go. Of course.

let it go

But not the movie version, the Demi Lovato version, which made it all even worse. My eyes filled with tears. What the hell was wrong with me? I told myself I wasn’t going to cry. And there I was driving my daughter to her first day of school, realizing that this was the beginning of the end, and she’d be off to college before I knew it. Which doesn’t sound all that bad now, but let’s face it, it’s terrible. I’ll be so old and exhausted by then, that is, if I even survive the teenage years.

It was not so long ago that my little girl was a little baby, and now she was going to school for the first time, and the enormity hit me like a gust of icy wind. Here I was releasing her into the real world, sending her off to make her own path, and it was too much to process. Luckily, whenever I get emotional and overwhelmed by the feelings of motherhood, my kids know just how to distract me by having a complete meltdown or needing one of their million needs met. They keep me from over-thinking things, or thinking things at all, really.

So by the time we pulled into the parking lot, my avalanche of emotion stopped short by their cries to get out of their seats, and I was able to collect myself. We went inside her classroom, only after taking more pictures outside the door. Everything went well. She didn’t cry, she wasn’t afraid, she was a little unsure, but it didn’t stop her from sitting at the table and playing with the freshly made playdough. It went better than I imagined. She was ready, the only thing I had to do was let. her. go. Oh god, here come the waterworks again. Damn hormones.

And so begins her journey to success, and Mummy’s journey to freedom.

Why I Cried

Why I Cried