Post-Social Anxiety, The Struggle Is Real

Many of us know the struggle called social anxiety. It sucks.

For those who don’t, it’s that feeling you get when you have to talk to people or join a crowd (hell it can even be only one person) and your stomach starts churning and you break out in a sweat. It’s basically a general feeling like you may just crap your pants.

But how many people out there experience Post-Social Anxiety?

I’m raising my hand right now. You can’t see it, but I’m raising it high and waving it around like an obnoxious know-it-all high-school student who sits in the front of the classroom, because I know it. Post-social anxiety is my worst enemy. To give you an idea of what it’s like, here are a few possible scenarios:


*You and your hubby went to dinner with another couple. You complimented your friend’s dress and told her she looked beautiful. You also supplied her husband with a friendly compliment, saying something like, “Well look at you looking all dapper and snazzy!” smiles and greetings…no big deal. You always like to make people feel good. I mean who doesn’t like a compliment?

The next day you think: OMG!!! I bet they think I wanted to have a three-way or a four-way! Why would I have said they look nice? Now they are going to think my husband and I are swingers!!! My stupid compliments! Who says snazzy?!? What an awful word! WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME?


*You were in parent-teacher conferences. Your child’s sweet teacher was going over the grade book. She showed you a little report that your child wrote about lizards. You laugh and tell her that he probably chose that animal because he got a lizard for his birthday and he named it Marty McFly because he is obsessed with Back to the Future. You go on about how he is loving school and everything is so jolly. You end the conference on a good note and head out to your car.

Boom. You open your car door and think, did I just take over the conference?!? She probably thinks I have a big fat mouth! What if she wasn’t done showing me projects and maybe there were issues she needed to discuss with me and now I’ve ruined the whole thing by changing the entire 20 minutes into ME telling HER about my child!! It was supposed to be the other way around. I can never show my face at school again!!! I’m going to have to request a transfer or start homeschooling immediately!


*You get invited to a party. Not just any party, but say for example a 31 or Pampered Chef type party. You sip on wine and talk about how great the products are. You are having a great time, but feel like things are wrapping up. You make your selections and place your order. You hug the hostess goodbye and are on your merry way.

After exiting you think, Well shit. What if I ordered the least amount? What if I drank more dollars’ worth of wine then what I spent on products? Oh great, now I’ll be known as the cheapskate who comes only for the drinks. And the hug at the end??? What was that? I bet she thinks I’m creepy for hugging her goodbye! Well…there went my reputation. The cheap, drunk hugger. That’s me.

AND…let’s not forget to mention post-social media anxiety!! This one’s a real motherf*cker.

*You took the cutest picture of your little one and you just couldn’t help but smile in admiration, you added a cute caption and posted that bad boy on Facebook and Instagram. Oh…I mean, how freaking cute, right???

20 minutes later…OMG! This only has 2 likes? That’s it??? What if I am an over-poster? I know I posted that funny video yesterday of those supermodels falling off the catwalk, so maybe this is too much? Have my Facebook friends had enough of me? I bet they’ll unfriend me. I have no friends. I’m gonna move to a tiny house out in the woods with no wi-fi so I can never use social media again!!

Anyways…you get the idea. If you struggle with post-social anxiety, take comfort in the fact that you are not alone. We are in this together.

In fact, after posting this, I’m going to be anxious and judge myself for even writing it. I’ll think…I’m so freaking stupid. Why did I do that? I bet everyone is talking about how I’m a crap-shit writer and they all bet that I’m really annoying in real life. I bet they think I smell.

Oh shit!!! What have I done?!!

****like or share if you like & thanks for reading****


Awesome-Ish Answers To Pregnancy Questions

Many questions will be asked of a pregnant lady. There are lots of awesome ways to answer! I personally was never offended by pregnancy questions. I am however…a giant smartass, so without further adieu…

Announcing I was pregnant with my second child, when my first was 8 months old.

“Did you guys do that on purpose?”

No. Ya see…what happened was my husband and I were both walking on a luxurious marble floor that was covered in melted butter and for some reason, neither of us were wearing any pants. We both slipped and fell and our private parts collided with such great force that it resulted in fertilization. So here we are. Due in March…

On finding out we were having our third boy…

“Are you upset that it’s not a girl?”

Great question! Thanks for asking! I’m effing pissed. I have contacted the customer service department about this and complained that this is just NOT what I ordered. I have heard that the return policy on these things are a real bitch to deal with. I guess I’ll have to suck it up and feed the little critter once he’s born. I’ll just leave a crappy review online about my dissatisfaction.

When making the decision to be a stay-at-home mother…

So, you are going to stay at home? You mean you’re not gonna work?

Actually, I just bought a sleep number bed. It’s fantastic! So once the little sucker is born, I’m going to make sure everyday that my bed is properly adjusted and I’ll just enjoy the peace and tranquility of a quiet and dark room. I will make sure to have my husband come in and move my ass around every now and then when he gets home from “work” to prevent bed sores. But no. I’m not gonna work. Life will be a breeze and aww shit…I just upgraded my cable too…so I’ll even get the porn sites! Can I get a hells yeah?!

When someone asked me about my birth plan…

Aren’t you scared to have a big baby come out of your vagina? I mean…won’t it hurt?

Aww hell…are you effing kidding me? I’m not scared. The thought of my lil’ lady-hole dividing like the Grand Canyon while waving my legs in the air like I just don’t care and having to push a human out of there with my own insides? Well that sounds about as laid back as a Sunday brunch. Besides…if it gets rough, I’ll have them bring in the jaws of life and they can simply pry ‘er open for me and take him out manually. Scared??? Bahahahaha!!! Michael Myers makes me scared. Fucking clowns with knives make me scared. Childbirth?!? Get outta here with that shit….

*they all ended in C-sections anyways…

When my friends asked me to go out for girls’ night.

How ’bout you come out with us Friday night? Oh…and since you can’t drink, would you please be our driver?

First off…how thoughtful of you! I can only imagine that in planning this event you were thinking of me and about how much you want to hang out with me. You know…when you mentioned it was dollar-draws and $2 wells night at that really fun bar downtown, I just knew this would be right up my alley! Of course I’ll drive you bitches, but keep in mind, I’m pregnant as fuck. So if this “girls’ night” lasts past midnight, I’ll pitch in for you to get a cab home. K?

When I gained 65 pounds with my pregnancy (not kidding).

Are you sure you’re not having twins?

Nope. I’m not. There could be 18,000 babies in here at this very moment, but I wouldn’t know because I just realized yesterday that I was getting a bit bigger. In fact…I haven’t yet, at 38 weeks taken an actual pregnancy test or had a sonogram to even verify a pregnancy. I simply assumed I was preggo and due at any given moment just from the kicks and lack of a menstrual cycle for 8 months, but I also like fries and peanut butter cups, so there’s that. So no way sugar tits…I’m not sure that it’s not twins…or quadruplets, or some Guinness Book of World Records shit. Now hug me and take me to a buffet.

***Oh yes. You will encounter many-a-question during your 9 months of incubating that expensive little night owl that’s inside of you.

BUT…try not to waste your time getting offended. Take it all with the grain of salt that you are currently craving and laugh a little.

That Day My Son Wrote A Book About His Brother

The other day, I pulled this out of my 2nd grader’s backpack. He wrote a book. He wrote it for his brother…and I love it.Wybook5



Tics or Tourette’s is not a bug. It’s a syndrome. Like open wide or waving. Maybe blinking.


Tourette’s is also disrespected. It shouldn’t be. Tourette’s can be many things, also singing.


That’s not all. Tics is a shorter version of saying Tourette’s but not always. Life is that way.


My brother has Tourette’s and people disrespect him. I have 2 dogs and a lizard. I wrote this on the age of 7.


And so when I read this, I cried. It was a full on tear drops-on-the-shirt-grab-the-Kleenex cry.  He has never mentioned the tics in a negative way to his brother. Not once. Not ever. We’ve certainly talked about it to him and it’s definitely not a taboo subject in our home. But we are all so used to it. So I never really thought about how he perceived the whole thing. But now I realize that my 7 year-old notices the stares and the whispers when we go out. He gets it.

As the mother of a child with Tourette’s, I worry. I worry A LOT! I worry about the misunderstandings associated with TS. I worry about how my child will be treated in life (Yes, one of his tics is singing and I love it, and it’s always rock, like really good rock too. He has great taste in music).

But…I worry about my other child too. I worry about everything in his life and how he’s doing and if he has a friend to play with at recess or not. I worry about if he’s happy and confident and if he’s gonna catch Ebola and every other thing in the world. I’m a mother and I can’t help it.

But my boys are best friends. That’s why this means so much to me. As much as I worry about both of them, they have each other. They. Have. Each. Other.  And there’s a cute little book made out of card stock that proves it.

National Give A Mom A Nap Day 2015. I’m Starting This. Get Involved.

To the tired and exhausted, to the sleep-walking and sleep-deprived, to the moms out there holding on by a mere thread…I propose to you, National Give A Mom A Nap Day. Sunday. October 11th, 2015.

This day will require a loved one, or trusted friend or family member to come over to a mom’s house and take over all duties while mother goes to their room and takes a nap. This needs to be a full sleep involving an REM phase, not simply a light slumber. Mothers should not be interrupted, bothered, or awakened for any reason that is non-life threatening. If the children are loud, the “nap-giver” could take the children out of the house for an activity to allow for mother’s maximum relaxation.

There will be critics. I can just see their cynical scrunched up faces now…saying shit like,

“Well that’s what Mother’s Day is for.”

I will quickly shut down this resistance by informing these skeptics that most mothers do NOT sleep on Mother’s Day. Many mothers spend that day with their children doing something special, or bouncing around to their own mother’s and mother-in-law’s houses delivering flowers, wine, and well wishes. After all, we put others first and often times mothers spend that day, ensuring everyone ELSE feels remembered and loved.

Look at it this way, there is National Take Your Kids To Work Day, National Puppy Day, National Margarita Day, National Coffee Day, National Son and Daughter Day…and Ahoy me hearties! There’s even a National Talk Like A Pirate Day. Shiver me effing timbers.

Let’s. Get. Real. Folks.

Everybody loves puppies, and coffee, and margaritas and everyday is our kids’ day. National Give A Mom A Nap Day is not only beneficial to mothers everywhere, but would be a great reset button for the entire family. A rested mommy, is a happy mommy. But right now, we are really fucking tired mommies and we are dragging ass. Many of us haven’t slept a full night sleep since we can remember. Naps are like unicorns. We know they have to exist somewhere in our wildest imagination, but we’ll never come close to one.

Until now.

Not a mom? No problem. Be a nap-giver. Get involved. Help a special mom in your life. This can’t happen without you.

Let’s celebrate National Give A Mom a Nap Day and make the world a better place, one nap at a time. Hit share, spread this shit like wildfire. And let’s let OTHERS do for us for once. Come on ladies…it’s our turn now.

National “Give A Mom A Nap Day” is Sunday, October 11th 2015.

And come join me on Facebook where I talk about lots of fun mommy shit!

Take back the nap…and fluff those pillows ladies.

Why Moms Need A Freaking Remote Control!

Ahh Motherhood…isn’t it just wonderful? It is. But sometimes (a lot of times) I feel like I have no freaking control. When everything seems to be going fine, someone will puke, or I’ll forget what day it is, or I can’t find anything, or a raging fit will come from one of the kids out of no where and my life will inevitably be sent into a tailspin. Motherhood is great and all, but I just want to be able to fucking control my shit! I need a remote control.

Where’s the goddam remote???


Wouldn’t a MUTE button be a gem? The sounds of little voices are extremely adorable. Except for when they are shrieking, squealing, whining, fussing, or doing the high-pitched screech from hell that children specifically use to test your patience and make sure you can really manage parenting without stopping to freebase every couple of hours. Although most of us pass this test, wouldn’t it be simpler to just hit mute? Never underestimate the glorious sounds of silence and what it can do for your sanity.

How about REWIND? This one would be a dandy. Say for example, you forgot it was picture day and you sent your kid to school looking like you pulled his shirt out of a wadded ball in the bottom of his drawer, because that’s exactly what you did…Rewind that shit and put him in a tuxedo t-shirt so he looks sleek and classy. Problem solved. Or maybe…oh man, maybe you let your kid sleep with you a few times and now you can’t get the little sucker back in his own bed. You’re now a born-again virgin, who sleeps with a knee in your back every night and you take Aleve twice a day for pain. Hit that rewind button and stick to the “sleep in your bed” rule. Problem solved. Just imagine all the things you screw up that could be fixed with a simple press of this magical button.

FAST FORWARD. Does this even need an explanation? Think about those long days when you got nothing left in your bones at 3 p.m. You can hardly keep your eyes open and the day is dragggging A-S-S. We’ve all been there. The “get this day the hell over with” feeling takes over. Press this convenient button and Goodnight sweetheart, sleep tight. Or…think about those dance recitals that some of you poor souls have to go to. You get stuck watching 3 hours of leotards and tap shoes, and your little angel is on the stage for a total of 2 minutes and 32 seconds. Fast forward past all those strangers’ kids, and problem solved. This is called time management and if you ask me…it’s brilliant!

POWER. Turn it off! Do you ever just wanna turn everything off for a while and get your bearings? I’m not too proud to admit that I get overwhelmed and every now and then I need to take a motherfuckin’ breather. 24 hours a day is a lot of time to be “on.” The list of things you have to get done is scientifically impossible! You haven’t slept in 3 years, your phone won’t stop ringing, and you think one of your kids is getting pink eye. Turn that shit off!!! Relax, maybe hit the beach…go to Vegas…take some shots, or better yet…take nap. Then, once you clear your mind a bit…game on. Power up.

PAUSE. Oksee Doksee, so I’m about to get a little sappy up in this bitch. A pause button may be the most important click on the clicker. The special moments go by so fast (I don’t care if people are sick of hearing that phrase because sorry…it’s true). Snuggle time is the best because you know your kiddo is getting older and you never want to let them go. Time to press pause. Wouldn’t it be nice to make it last longer? Or when your kid laughs hysterically and for a brief moment in time, has not a care in the world…and you just want to stop and absorb it. Let’s face it, nothing’s better than seeing your kid legit happy. There are so many moments that I know I would like to pause (including the rare occasion that they sleep in). But it’s also because as parents, we aren’t always ready for them to grow up. Can’t we just keep them little for just a bit longer? Pa-leeeeze?!?! Pause this while I grab a tissue…

See, I told you we need a remote control. Unfortunately we aren’t lucky enough to have such a device, but a girl can dream. I’d be pressing buttons left and right, totally slaying this whole motherhood thing. Life would be a breeze. Everything would be so much easier.

But one thing would not change.

See, even if I did have a remote control for motherhood, I would still be me. My imperfect and out of control self. And that my friend leaves one very important fact that places a giant hole in my dreams for this innovative and handy device. And that is:

I would never be able to find the goddam remote…

Share or like if you like it…and thank you so much for reading my shit!!

You Are Done Having Kids…And Then, SURPRISE!

So…you are done having kids. You took precautions. Your family is complete. Then all of a sudden, your period is late.

You ask yourself, could I be pregnant?

You argue with yourself, NO WAY! There’s no freaking way!

You get on Google and talk yourself out of it, Okay, he pulled out. We did it like 8 days before I was supposed to even ovulate. Plus, this says only 4 couples out of 100 become pregnant if they practice withdrawal the right way. OMG! Did we do it the “right way?” What is the “right way?”

You break down in a hormonal induced frenzy (you can’t tell if it’s PMS or if you’re with child) and you buy the pregnancy test…just to make sure. You piss on the stick.

It’s as positive as a Joel Osteen sermon.

You panic.

This is normal with a surprise baby. But here are some things that could potentially happen. I’m just placing these here for you to use as a reference.

*You may be nervous telling your partner that you’re preggers even though he’s the one that fired the shots.

*The initial shock will produce lots of adrenaline and you may find yourself pacing around the kitchen wondering how you are going to handle one more kid, because you can barely handle the one(s) you’ve got.

*You may wake up in the morning and think it was all a dream for like the first two-maybe-three months.

*When you finally decide to tell the rest of your family and friends, you might think they are judging you…even if they’re not. But sometimes they are and in that case you will want to tell them to piss off. It is okay to do so, because it’s none of their goddam business.

*Once the initial shock wears off, you’ll probably (finally) chill the hell out.

*You may then realize you have given all your baby stuff away or sold it in a garage sale and you will start to freak out again.

*You may scream, “OH SHIT!” because you donated all of your maternity clothes two months ago!!!

*You’ll most likely rediscover your love of chocolate and peanut butter, which magically make you feel like you are getting a hug from a soft teddy bear with every scrumptious bite.

*You may slowly over the next couple months, acquire new baby items…only this time they are from consignment stores, garage sales, and hand me downs from friends instead of new arrivals from Pottery Barn.

*Eventually you’ll most likely totally forget that this baby wasn’t planned because you are so busy keeping things up and running.

*Every little kick will be just as exciting as it was in previous pregnancies (even if you are like me and hate being pregnant, there’s nothing like feeling those little movements )

So once little “Oopsy” is finally in your arms, and you introduce the little surprise baby to the rest of your family, you may stop and take a breath. You may look at your little family gathered around your bed in the hospital and see the love in their eyes (and sometimes a little jealously from older siblings, but that’s normal). It all just seems to fit. I mean, you’ll still be all crazy and emotional and exhausted…but it all feels right. Well, except your swollen feet because there’s no way those can possibly feel right.

At this point, you can’t imagine your life without this new little critter in it. And suddenly, you’ll feel complete. You may not have planned on having another baby, but now you know it was meant to be. And that may be the biggest surprise of all.

And then…you’ll all live happily ever after with lots of love and little to no sleep.

Oh…this is important! Last but not least, you will probably send your husband off to get NEUTERED.

Do it ASAP!!!

Btw…I am NOT pregnant! LOL! This was written from my experience with my 3rd little minion, who was a wonderful surprise.

How To Catch Fruit Flies If You Are A Crazy Person

WTF? Do you see this? I have fruit flies in my kitchen! Damn floot fries! I mean fwoot fwies. I mean floot flies!


This was me…2 weeks ago. My kitchen was swarming with those little bastards! I’m not a dirty person! How could I possibly have an infestation of these awful critters? They don’t bite or sting…but they are gross. They were coming up out of the sink. They were hanging out in the pantry. They threw a little party in my mouth hole when I was calling my kids to come down for dinner. No mercy was shown on my part. I’d smack them around while calling them names. At one point I remember clapping my hands in the air trying to squash them while yelling, “Die you little motherfuckers! Die!”

Yep…they got the better of me…but they didn’t get the best. I had a plan, and it was intense.


I was going to catch every last one of them with my homemade traps.

First, I made this one:


I didn’t have cling wrap so I put my thinking cap on and I used painters tape and a cut up Ziplock baggie, strawberries, and vinegar. I poked holes in the top as you can see.

Next, I saw somewhere on planet Google, that funnels were a good idea, so I made this little beauty:


I added soap to the vinegar/strawberry combo and again used painters tape to make a funnel.

Unsure if these creations would work, I made an orange juice trap out of a Seagram’s soda bottle:


I even texted my friend, see…


I hadn’t yet caught a single fly, so I found some guacamole and made a trap out of that:


I desperately ran around checking each trap and everytime I did the fruit flies that would have been dead meat, would scatter. I was sabotaging my own plans!!! I had officially lost it! I didn’t think there was enough traps! It wasn’t that they weren’t working, right??? It was that there weren’t enough traps!! Silly me!

There was one idea I had left…I found a citrus flavored laxative drink thingy, because first of all, you never know when you might need it, and secondly I read on the world wide interweb somewhere, that these sick little pricks are attracted to citrus-y stuff!


So I pondered the idea, questioned myself, and consulted with my friend again:


Ultimately I decided to not waste good wine, or a good laxative on these little beasts. I let my traps lie for about 5 days. The results were shocking!!!

I caught about 23 fruit flies. 23 out of about 9,000. I tried to be proud of myself. I gave it my all. And hey 23 is better than nothing, right? I mean those 23 flies could have all had little baby flies and I’d have 23 more litters of tiny winged assholes taking over my home.

It wasn’t a total loss. I figured heck, once it cools off (the first freeze in a few months) they’ll die off. But then…I found this spawn from hell in a refreshing Kettle Soda cocktail I made at the end of a long day.


Game back on. You don’t mess with expensive vodka.

So, I found a trap at Walmart yesterday and it was one of two left on the shelf. So I bought them both.



Less than 24 hours later I’ve caught more floot fwies, I mean fruit flies than I did in 5 days with my homemade traps (the other store bought trap has about the same amount of fly carcasses). So am I satisfied? Hell yeah. What next you ask? I’m going to what any (rational) person would do of course. I’m going to the other Walmart across town and I’m going to buy all the traps they have left.

This is how I caught fruit fries, I mean fruit flies. But…my advice as an expert:

Skip all the traps and go to Walmart before the secret gets out and all the traps are gone. Hurry up. They’re probably all doing it doggy style right now in your sink and they’re all getting pregnant!! Go! Go! Go!!!!