Can you rationalize with a woman with PMS? Here is a sample conversation that may give some insight into that question. I’m throwing myself under the bus here, for the sake of the greater good…

Me: Quit standing there.

Me: Could you run out and get me some tampons, maxi-pads, something chocolate, and then something salty to balance it all out? Like now? Like right freaking now!!!

**he gets back from the store**

Me: Great. Those are the wrong pads! Let’s use our listening ears next time, okay?

Me: Is there any possible way you could quit looking at me?

**5 minutes later**

Husband: Why are you crying?

Me: I was thinking about what song I’d pick to play at your funeral.

**he gets frightened and leaves the room**

Me: Honey, come in here for a second!

Husband: What?

Me: I love you so much.

Husband: I love you too.

Me: I’ve always loved you more than you’ve loved me. (I begin weeping) That’s the problem with this marriage! I care about you too much. What’s so bad about me, huh? Is it the baby weight I haven’t lost? Is it because I am bossy? You never thought I was good enough! And your parents hate me!

Husband: Jesus, calm down. Nobody hates you. There’s no problem with this marriage. You are being ridiculous.

Me: Now you are calling me names! Fuck you fuck-stick. Just get out!

Husband: No problem.

Me: That’s right, move on…get your ass outta my room!

**5 minutes pass**

Me: Hey honey!!! Come in here!

Husband: What is it?

Me: I’m so sorry. I’m sooo freaking sorry. I love you! I love our kids. What are they watching on TV? It better be something appropriate!

Husband: Full House.

Me: Oh I love that show! Michelle! Oh Michelle Tanner is so cute! Maybe we should have another baby?

Husband: Just stop it.

Me: If I’m not using this uterus anymore and we are done having kids, I want it out! I want someone to take it out! I can’t take the cramps! I asked my doctor. That bastard said no.

Husband: Do you need some Tylenol?

Me: Does this Tylenol you speak of have Codeine or Hydrocodone in it? Because if it doesn’t, then NO!

Husband: Why are you laughing?

Me: I was thinking of what song I would play at your funeral.

Husband: I’m going to watch Full House

Me: You are SO selfish!

**5 minutes later**

Me: HONEY!!!

Husband: What it is it?

Me: I don’t feel good. I need attention.

Husband: Okay, what do you need?

Me: Quit looking at me.

Husband: (throws hands up in the air) Listen, I love you…but I don’t know what to say. And why in the hell are you Googling gynecologists in Tijuana?

Me: My doctor won’t give me a hysterectomy! I already told you that! Listening ears!!!

Husband: You are not getting surgery in Mexico!

Me: That PROVES you don’t love me!

Husband: Why don’t you read a book?

Me: Why don’t you read this? (extends middle finger)

Husband: I’m going to pretend you didn’t do that.

Me: I need to get up and get homework started with the kids. I’m a terrible mother! Why can’t I do anything right?

Husband: You are a great mother. Why would you even say that? That’s so stupid to even say.

Me: Oh…great thanks…I guess I’m too STUPID to help with homework. Is that what you mean?

Husband: You are crazy!

Me: Ya don’t say? No freaking shit?!? You just figured that out? Who’s the stupid one now Einstein?

**husband stands frozen and looking helpless**

Me: I love you so much! I really really mean that.

At the end of the day, there is no rationalizing with a premenstrual woman. You can try. You can give it your best shot. My advice is simply crack the door and throw an occasional candy bar at her and then run. No man can handle this. Period.


They Saved Me When I Couldn’t Talk


Yesterday after school, my second grader climbed in the car and he said something that struck me.

“Mom…something happened today. C and K saved me. They saved me when I couldn’t talk.”

Of course I was thinking a million things! Did he choke at lunch? Was he gagged and bound by a bully who had vampire teeth and a tear drop tattoo and these two brave kids came to his rescue? I’m a worrying helicopter mother by the way, so of course my mind was going crazy with questions.

“P, tell me what happened!”

“Well,” he began, “there were these two girls from another class, and I was doing one of my tics and I couldn’t stop (it was a tic where his arms stiffen up, and his hands shake. During this, his face also stiffens). They were telling me to stop it and told me that I was so weird. I wanted to say something but I couldn’t because I couldn’t stop my tic. But C and K saved me. They told the girls that I had Tourette’s and that I couldn’t help it. They told them I wasn’t weird and that it was my brain making me do it and they shouldn’t be telling me to stop it because I can’t.”

Rewind: A few weeks ago, my son’s teacher, school counselor, and a very sweet high school kid, who also has Tourette’s came in to help P teach his class. They were taught about what Tourette’s is and why P was doing these things, called tics. When P asked the class, “How many of you have noticed me doing some of these movements and sounds?” The entire class raised their hands. I cried a little to myself sitting in the corner watching all of this. But not P, he just smiled and said, “See…that’s what my Tourette’s is!”

His AMAZING teacher said something that I will never forget, “We are P’s family here at school. So now that you know about his Tourette’s, if you ever see or hear anyone making jokes or talking about it, it is our job to help them to understand. We all have to look out for each other.”

THEY LISTENED!!! Kids will listen when they are taught. It takes teachers, parents, and other kids to help raise confident, happy children who feel accepted. P feeling like these boys “saved” him, is so powerful. It was like he was being thrown a life raft. He needed a voice and luckily he ended up having two, even if they weren’t his own. A little bit of help can go a long way. But here’s the kicker, not only did they “save” my child in that moment, but those two boys showed character and their ability to stand up for and accept others. They also taught two more children (the girls) about TS. I would march right up to that school and kiss them right on their faces if I could, but that would be creepy and so I won’t, but I’m so grateful. So very very grateful.

Yes, my remarkably-wonderful-amazing-talented-rockstar 8 year-old son has Tourette’s Syndrome. It is not something I am afraid, ashamed, or hesitant to talk about. It is a neurological disorder. He was born with this. He started having tics when he was only 8 months old. He shakes his hands, taps a pencil, blinks his eyes, and occasionally whistles or bites down. These are things he can’t control. He plays guitar, loves the NBA, and is pretty much a typical 8 year-old. He does not feel like a victim. He does however, want to spread awareness.

“Hollywood Tourette’s” is the name I have given to the mythological form of TS which is how it is portrayed in movies and television. I am super happy to debunk that myth. It’s just not like that. It’s not a joke. It is a struggle at times. It is also fascinating and awesome and is part of who my son is. Tourette Syndrome is not a taboo subject. It is a fairly common disorder with various levels of severity. The swearing tic is extremely rare, but still is not something I think is funny to laugh at. My son does not say swear words. I sure as hell do, but he does not. His tics are mostly motor.

It’s not just TS. There are all sorts of differences we can teach our kids about. Autism, Asperger’s, ADHD, the list goes on and on. The point is, our kids don’t know about the things that they are not taught.  Education is a game changer, and with it we may not be able to save the world…but we can at least help our children save each other.

Like or share to spread the word!

And yes, I use letters for the kids names, because like I said…I’m a crazy helicopter mother 🙂

Mysteries of Motherhood

The case of the missing socks. You just bought socks. You vowed to keep the matches together. You were going to pair those socks up like you worked for a dating site that results in more marriages than any other dating site. Then it happens…you lay them out fresh from the dryer and there is only one of each pair. What happened to the friggin’ socks? It’s a mystery.

The case of the funky smell. What the hell is it? You can smell it. It’s not you. Is it the kids? You smell them all and they are clear. You sniff around like a hound dog bringing yourself to a new low as you now have your nose to the carpet. Although you may encounter other scents along the way, the original smell never has a source. Was it a ghost with gas? It’s a mystery.

The case of the lost keys. You had them. You know you just freaking had them. You are on your way out the door, your hands are full, and you now have no transportation. The number on the stress scale is at a ten, you have just spent an hour trying to get everyone ready to load into the car for your scheduled outing and now your fists and butt cheeks are clenched because you simply cannot leave. Breaking a window sounds good, but it’s still not going to locate your keys. Mystery.

The case of the “where did you hear that?” Your child, your sweet darling child has just said something that leaves your jaw hitting the floor. A swear word, a remark about a body part. We all know kids say crazy things, but where in the bloody fucking hell would they have heard a bad word like that? Another damned mystery.

The case of the almost three year-old. That darling little lamb chop of yours. Your sweet toddler that has cuddled and kissed you every morning since you can remember suddenly transforms into a soul-sucking venomous beast. “I love you,” you say. “Shush your mouth,” they respond with a throat punch. What????? “Oh come on,” you say. “Let’s go read a book sweetie.” Almost three year-old then grabs the book from your hands, throws it against the wall and tells you to go fuck yourself. Okay, maybe not the last part, but basically that’s what they are communicating to you. OMG where did your sweet baby go? It’s another painful and grueling mystery.

There are many more mysteries that need to be solved. However, due to the time-consuming conundrum of the last one, I’ll have to keep this post short. Plus, there’s somewhere we have to be, so I have to go find my keys and find some clean socks for the minion, because something smells funky and so I’m just going to change his whole outfit just to be on the safe side. Oh shit, he just said dammit! Where did that come from? Hopefully I’ll figure this out soon! Gotta run!