The Real Reasons We Are ALWAYS Late

“Oh, so sorry we are late. Traffic was crazy.”

This is the generic response that I usually spout off when I am late. And I’m ALWAYS late; sporting events, parties, weddings, you name it. But I beg you, do not judge. There is typically a much more interesting reason that I am late. That would be one of the many REAL ones. Here are a few:

  1. I spent 20 minutes looking for my sunglasses…that were on my head.
  2. Each one of my kids could only find one shoe.
  3. I haven’t shit in a week and took laxatives last night and the gentle overnight relief decided to literally kick me in the ass right when it was time to leave my house. And…I don’t shit in public restrooms, or other people’s restrooms. EVER!
  4. I needed a Diet Coke and even though the line in the drive-thru was wrapped around the building, it was just SO fucking worth it to be late.
  5. My husband and I were fighting and I had to get rid of the intense need to strangle him before we walked in.
  6. I had to let my Xanax kick in.
  7. I couldn’t find my keys and I looked all over the house. I was so stressed that my eyes started watering and then I finally found the damn things in the same drawer I had already looked in five effing times. Then, I went to check my face to make sure it didn’t look like I had been crying and somewhere along the way I set my keys down and they were once again lost.
  8. The outfit I was going to wear was in the washer.
  9. It took my son 17 minutes to brush his teeth, because he just sat there and let the water run and made faces in the mirror.
  10. I set the alarm and woke up on time, but I spent 30 minutes lying in bed, scrolling through Facebook and “liking” everything.
  11. I forgot everything I was supposed to bring and had to go back home to get it all.
  12. I have poor time management in general.
  13. There was a Golden Girls marathon on, and that little firecracker Sophia just leaves me in stitches and I had to finish the episode.
  14. I put on jeans and I felt fat in them, so I changed into leggings, but couldn’t find shoes that looked cute with those, so I put on another pair of jeans. Unfortunately, those showed too much muffin top and so I started throwing shit out of my closet and yelling at my husband about things totally unrelated to the real reason I was upset.
  15. I couldn’t find my two year-old.
  16. I really didn’t want to be the first one to show up at this event, so even though I actually would have been on time, I don’t like awkward situations so I drove down side streets until a few more cars showed up.
  17. I couldn’t find my cell phone anywhere because I was talking on it.
  18. The baby pooped right when I had my hands full and we were walking out the door, so I had to change his pants. By the time I was done, my older son had already taken his shoes off and couldn’t find them.
  19. My dog ran out the goddam door as we were leaving and I had to chase her all over the neighborhood while my kids screamed and sobbed in our driveway as if the world was ending, thus drawing attention of all of the neighbors, while I was running like an idiot calling a dog that doesn’t listen to me any better than my children do.
  20. I’m just a really effed up mess who doesn’t have my shit together.

So, if you ever see that mom that’s trying hard to smile through her tardiness, don’t judge. She’s probably just an effed up mess too.

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Titty Show at the Grocery Store (a memoir)

After dropping off my older boys at school, my two year-old and I set out on a milk mission. Sounds easy enough, right? My little lovey likes to ride in those shopping carts that have the firetrucks in the front so he can pretend to steer. Bad news is, they are low to the ground so they can get in and out by themselves, but the good news is, they usually enjoy riding in them. Even though we just needed milk, I found some great deals on produce. Yippee fucking skippee! I discovered the bee’s knees of bargain berries! I loaded my cart with various fruits including apples and a few melons. As we were leaving, my little lovey spotted the miniature pumpkins on display.

“Baby punkin!” he yelled. “Mama, that’s so cute.”

No, I thought to myself, you are so cute and I will get you that pumpkin to put in your room to decorate for Halloween. I let him hold on to it to keep him happy and all seemed well in grocery land. Just a mother and her little pumpkin (with his little pumpkin), on their way to grab some milk. Lo and behold, I spotted bread and coincidentally about fifteen other things we needed along the way. Finally, I got the milk that we came for. We headed up front and successfully made it to the check out line. I began setting my items on the belt. This is when my toddler decided that he was done sitting.

“Stay in the cart, we are not finished,” I said.

“No mama, I get out!” he yelled (which in toddler translates to: Screw you bitch, I’m outta here).

The firetruck cart was so big that I couldn’t reach to grab him. Before I knew it, he was scat-assing out of the line at what seemed like 50 miles per hour and was heading for the automatic exit door. I shoved the cart to the side and leaped after him like a cheetah chasing her prey. Hallelujah! I caught him before he made it outside. Carrying him under one arm, I made my way back to the check out and finished placing my items on the belt. Much to my dismay, my lovey started yelling, “HELP ME! HELP ME!” Okay now everyone was looking. They were most likely assuming that there was a child abduction taking place. He kicked and twisted. He was literally upside down. The sweet little gray-haired checker looked sympathetically at me over her glasses as she bagged up our little pumpkin.

“Ooh is this a pumpkin to make pies with?”

In my head I thought: Well, actually ma’am do you see what the fuck is going on under my arm right now? Do I look like I make pies? That pumpkin was meant to shut this kid the hell up. Clearly a failed plan. Now put the fucking fall fruit in the bag so I can get out of here, or I will smash that fucker all over this floor!

“Yes, it’s getting to be that season,” I replied with a forced smile.

At that point, little lovey was in an upside down arabesque position and had a foot kicking me repeatedly in the chin. I was seriously on the verge of a full blown panic attack.

“Mama’s butt!” he yelled. The checker’s eyes widened. Why was my child saying this? OMG! I felt eyes on me, like literally felt people’s stares burning through my skin. I held it together as best I could. I had this panicky feeling and and uncontrollable urge to grab a paper bag and put it over my head so people couldn’t see me. Because, you know…that would help.

Oh yes. Now the crazy lady is wearing a brown paper bag over her head and is blindly running into various displays around the store with her child still hollering about butts. But at least we can’t see her face.

Fortunately, my debit card was in my back pocket, so I slid it through the swiper. I nailed it. I could see the finish line. I was almost done. However, the 18 year-old sacker had a look on his face like he’d never seen anything like this before. I felt like a total loser, a failure, and an incompetent mother. I felt like the entire store was watching a freakshow, starring me.

Steering the gigantic cart with one hand and holding a tantruming toddler in the other, I pushed the wobbling metal cart from hell out to my minivan with stares coming from every direction. Fishing through my bag for keys and still holding on to my kid for dear life, my son started yelling again, “Mama’s butt! There’s Mama’s butt cheek!” Good gracious, I had no idea why he was saying this. WTF? I was still fumbling for my keys. Looking down into my purse, I did a double take as I was now stunned to be looking at my right breast. My shirt had been pushed down somehow through the tantrum and was now laying under the right cup of my bra exposing my jug. To make things even better, the bra had been shifted, allowing the fellow patrons of the market to see the upper portion of my areola and nipple sticking out as if it just wanted to be part of the action. Fan-fucking-tastic. I had just put on a titty show at Price Chopper. I finally found my keys, unlocked my doors, and immediately put my son in his seat. My knocker was still soaking up the breeze in all it’s glory. I gently placed my ta-ta back where it was supposed to be in it’s holder and pulled my shirt back in position. I violently threw my groceries in the back of my van and drove straight home where I made him sit down while I rambled on about good and bad behavior. I’m pretty sure the lecture I gave him was useless, as he looked past me and asked for fruit snacks, but whatever.

I just have to wonder, that if I can hardly make it through the grocery store, how am I going to make it through life? I see moms do this all the time! This is my third child! I should be better at this by now! Ugh…But oh well. Wardrobe malfunctions happen I guess, and it is kind of funny that my kid thinks my boobs are buttcheeks and that it was not just milk “jugs” or water “melons” that got checked out in the supermarket line this morning. And hell, the sacker got a free show, even if it was from some crazy mother with a screaming child.

Who knows, maybe I’ll even make a pie…? But probably not.

Some of the Most Effed Up Things I’ve Done Since Becoming a Mother

  1. I once took my son to the doctor because when he woke up his face was purple. It turned out to be dye from his blue pillow case.
  2. I drove around the church preschool on my kid’s first day for two hours like a lunatic and I saw nothing except a brick building. I am lucky they didn’t call the cops.
  3. Waking up violently puking with a stomach bug, I was hanging over the toilet when mid-vomit…a wiener showed up next to me and peed in the same toilet I was currently hurling in. This was also the moment I realized I will NEVER have a moment of my own.
  4. I forced a friend to dress up like a stormtrooper with me and made my husband dress up like Darth Vader to put on a master Jedi Training Class for my son’s 5th birthday party. I was the first pregnant stormtrooper in history.
  5. The day I found out I was pregnant with my first child, I called in sick to work because I was too excited to do anything but look online at baby things.
  6. At 40 weeks pregnant with my first, I would jump off the bottom stairs repeatedly and walked around doing squats, hoping to start labor, only to have a c-section.
  7. After sending my son to bed for the night because he was being so NAUGHTY, I felt really guilty. So once he fell asleep, I climbed in bed with him and held his hand while he slept…all night.
  8. I once had all three kids in their own beds and my husband was out of town and I was too scared to step on the creak in the floor by the stairs and wake them up, so I hit the deck and slept on the floor in the hallway in all my clothes, contacts, with no pillow or blanket. Needed to make a chiropractor appt. the next day.
  9. Once when I was pregnant I dreamed my baby was so big that I would have to deliver on an airport runway. I then gave birth to two killer whales and a dolphin. I actually woke up in a panic trying to figure out how to get them into salt water. Wtf?
  10. After a night of NO sleep (since I have children who are nocturnal), I once got in the shower with my pajamas on. No joke.
  11. I realized one day that it was 4 o’clock in the afternoon and I had not yet taken a piss or eaten anything the entire day. (This still happens but usually not 4 o’clock)
  12. When I was nursing one of my babies, my tatas were completely out of milk and he was still hungry. Desperate to feed him I smacked my own boobs and called them worthless whores. I am NOT kidding. That’s pretty effed up.

Can’t believe I am admitting some of these, but what the hell. Maybe it will make you feel normal! And shit, I don’t ever claim to be normal 🙂