Top 20 Fears of Someone Who is Afraid of Everything

Everyone has fears. Some of those fears are completely “normal” or typical. Things like something horrible happening to those you love, being afraid of heights, or being taken hostage on a cargo ship by Somalian pirates (that was a TRUE story, you guys). I, on the other hand, have these fears, but I am also afraid of pretty much everything (except for ghosts…I ain’t afraid of no ghosts). Now just because my fears are “irrational” or “Carmenesque” (as my husband calls them) it doesn’t mean that these aren’t things that I think about on a daily basis. It was very hard for me to narrow this down to only 20, but these are the big ones. And yes my brain does hurt. Thank you for asking.

1)Fire. I double check that my oven is off every time I leave the house (even if I haven’t used it in weeks). I will never have a real Christmas tree (have you seen that YouTube video where the tree is engulfed in flames in like 2 seconds)? I hate when people have fires in their backyards (I am afraid that people won’t put the fire out properly and it will come back as a blazing inferno). I only use fake candles (obviously). Sometimes I wonder how I was ever a smoker.

2)Horror Movies. And by horror movies I mean any movie/tv show/commercial that seems the least bit like someone might be hurt. Perhaps watching “Nightmare on Elm Street” when I was 6 wasn’t such a good idea, mom. Yes, it turns out that my older brother was not a very good babysitter and would often make me watch horror movies alone in our creepy basement where he also happened to have a life size poster of Freddy Krueger above his bed. “1, 2 Freddy’s comin’ for you” still haunts me and perhaps could explain the fire phobia. (You know because Freddy was so badly burned that he had to come back and kill people in their dreams. He had a hand made of KNIVES…KNIVES!!!)

3)Talking to real people on the phone. I have mentioned this before, but this is seriously a thing. I am not shy and have no trouble speaking to a group of people in front of me, but having to say things to people on the phone and I forget what my own name is. I get so flustered that it takes me like 10 minutes to even get to the point of why I called. I have to rehearse the conversation and if people don’t answer me according to the script I have written out where I imagine what their responses should be, well I might as well just move to another country and get a new identity. I hate ordering pizza because I am so afraid that they will screw up my order and I’ll end up with something I can’t eat. Thank goodness for cell phones. Now I can pretty much just email or text people, so it’s like I never have to talk to anyone ever again. What a time to be alive.

4)Not cleaning the dryer vent properly. Again this relates to #1. Sometimes I envision being on my deathbed and the only thing I want to tell my husband is to make sure he properly cleans out the dryer vent so he doesn’t burn the house down. Not “I love you” or “take care of our boys”, but the dryer vent. Try living with that.

5)Dogs. Specifically, wild dogs. When my husband was living up north there were so many wild dogs roaming the streets that I refused to live there. Literally that was the ONLY reason.

6)Being invited over for dinner and not liking what they are serving. This happened to me once and it was seriously like the “mutton episode” from Seinfeld. I literally put food into napkins and dumped it into the toilet afterwards (for fear of being chased by wild dogs…see how everything fits together)?? The worst part was it was a “Pity Dinner”. Oh you’ve never been to a Pity Dinner? Well people often feel sorry for me because I cry a lot. So when I cried in the middle of a crowded staff room when I was teaching in England, this poor guy felt so bad for me he invited me over to his house for dinner with him and his wife. I tried to tell him it was unnecessary. I had real live friends, just not at that torture chamber they called a school, but I mean I was sobbing. The night of the dinner I was worried about 2 things-taking public transit alone at night where I could be robbed and then dismembered, and that they would serve something gross like mushrooms or curry. What did they serve? Mushroomed curry over rice. I tried picking out rice that had not been touched by the vile curry sauce, but it was smothered. No grain of rice was left untouched. I was hoping the wine they served was poisoned so I could just end it there. If you ever invite me over for dinner treat me like a 5-year-old and just order me a cheese pizza (just don’t make me order it). I beg you.

7)The reality that Peter Mansbridge will retire one day. What?? I have a bit of a crush.

8)Having those drug dogs in airports sniff out my luggage and have a scene out of Brokedown Palace. I would not fair well in a Thai prison.

9)Accidently eating/preparing uncooked food and giving everyone food poisoning. That is why I cook the SHIT out of everything and prefer my food well done/burnt. What my chicken is dry? Would you prefer getting salmonella? You want pink in your steak? And get blood all over my plates? That’s gross. You don’t like pork chops cooked so well done that they shrink to the size of a toonie? No, sorry. There will be no raw meat on my watch.

10)Uncontrolled intersections. I know right?

11)How to work a shower in someone else’s house.

12)Plugging a toilet in someone else’s house. Hot tip: If I ever leave your house earlier than normal this may have happened. I won’t tell you; I will just leave. I am apologizing to you about this right now.

13)Getting flesh eating disease. Well pretty much getting any type of disease that I saw on Oprah.

14)Getting accidently drunk at a wedding and missing Julianne Hough do the Footloose dance. Oh wait…THAT HAPPENED.

15)Being the first or last person to arrive. I hate being early (makes me feel like a loser that has no life and has been waiting ALL day for the event) or late (makes me feel irresponsible, which I AM NOT). If everyone could just sync up their phones/watches and arrive ON TIME, that’d be great.

16)Being sucked into a cult like Kelly Taylor on Beverley Hills 90210. Seems plausible.

17)Being thrown overboard on a cruise ship. NOTE: I have never been on a cruise ship.

18)Zoos. They smell weird and the animals scare me.

19)Winter driving, driving at night, in the wind, dust, rain, when clouds look strange, driving someone else’s car, parking, and getting in an accident and having someone yell at me on the side of the road (naturally I would be at fault).

20)Finally, probably my biggest irrational fear…having to go to the bathroom and not finding a bathroom. Along with childbirth and tampons, guys just don’t get this. Peeing, sharting, and/or pooping your pants changes you in a way you can’t really recover from. Am I being dramatic? I don’t know, have you ever roamed around Barcelona at 3 A.M and NO ONE would let you use their bathroom? Hmmm until that happens to you and you are left without options, talk to me then and let me know if I am too dramatic. I won’t finish this story as I’m afraid you’ll all look at me differently. Oh forget it, you know I’ll tell you. I pooped my pants in Barcelona.


Top 20 Things I Know Nothing About

It has now been established that I am the parenting guru (well at least in my house) and am the expert on everything child related. However, my husband and I are a team and he really does pick up the slack where I fall apart (plus remember last post…I promised this one would be about my shortcomings). I may be awesome, but there are things I really can’t seem to get a grip on. Even though there are days when I would love to take on a sister wife to help me with my kids, at least I don’t have to worry about how to work our sprinklers because my hubby takes care of that. Here are the top 20 things that I literally have no idea about (and truly don’t even care if I ever learn). I am also sorry if I fall into typical female stereotypes here, but you know what? I can grow humans, so take that.

1) Cars. Aside from driving (which, let’s be honest, I’m not great at) I know nothing about vehicles. I once drove around for a year with the emergency light thing blinking (see I don’t even know what it’s called). What’s an alternator? I dunno. What would I do if I got a flat tire? Cry. What kind of oil do I want? You tell me car technician man, you tell me. I also prefer to drive when it is +20 degrees and sunny out. Living in Saskatchewan is obviously not ideal. Oh and just so you know, left hand turns with no turning arrow are the work of the devil and I will take a much longer route to get where I am going to avoid them completely.

2) Internet banking. Super embarrassed about this one. Up until recently, I was mailing in cheques to pay for my bills. I know some of you are reading this and thinking “what are cheques”? My husband always made fun of me asking if I was going to tie my cheque to the leg of a pigeon. I guess I am afraid the computer will eat my money or something. I also need my husband to do email money transfers since I have no idea how to access my account. Pathetic. Needless to say my husband is in charge of our finances.

3) Yard Maintenance/Gardening/Planting Flowers. I’m not really outdoorsy so I have no interest in doing any of these things. My husband, on the other hand, fancies himself as quite the greens keeper (I mean he did work on a golf course FOUR summers in a ROW) which obviously gives him professional gardening status. He feels like he is the envy of our neighborhood and needs to be out there tending to his flowers and lawn because EVERYONE is talking about how green and lush everything is. I mean how have we not been featured in a home and garden magazine already? The only time I ever attempted to do anything in our yard was when my husband was out of town and he asked me to water the plants. I killed them in one day. Death due to drowning.

4) Fixing Anything. I have trouble twisting off pickle jars, so I don’t think I’m really in the position to be learning how to do anything that requires tools. I’m not even 100% sure I could pick out a wrench in a tool line up.

5) General Knowledge. I don’t ever like to “get caught” not knowing something. I mean I am a teacher, so I should know everything about everything. Obviously. However, I don’t pay a lot of attention to things and I pick and choose what I care to know about due to laziness and my addiction to television, which occupies my time when I’m not sleeping. Naturally, there are lots of things I know nothing about, but I will try my hardest to fool you into thinking I do. Sometimes though, I say something that tips people off that I have no idea what I am talking
about. When the whole “gorilla thing” happened I made the comment, “What were they afraid the gorilla was going to eat him (the child)?”, to which an “acquaintance” retorted, “Don’t you know gorillas are vegetarians”? Well I’m not a gorilla expert, douche canoe, so I guess I don’t know that. I still don’t actually believe him though and have yet to fact check this. I mean I eat meat, surely they do too? See what I mean though? Why would I be expected to know this? Do you all know this? Sometimes I think I know a lot and then someone puts me in my place and then it appears the only thing I know about is what the Kardashians wore on their last red carpet appearance.

6) Computers. I should know more than I do here. I have floated through life at this point getting people to just do stuff for me on computers. I realize now though that I will have to learn if I want to keep up with my kids who will surpass me with their skills by the time they are 8. I wish I could do cool shit like make a web series or something, but good grief, no, no I can’t. My kids will feel about me the way I do about older people who put the entirety of an email in the subject line.

7) Baking. Now while I have made leaps and bounds in the cooking department since being married and definitely since having kids, I still cannot bake. Anytime I have to have any sort of baking I either buy something from the store and make it look like I made it myself or I make Rice Krispie cake. I never make cookies, I make birthday cupcakes from a mix, and I always volunteer an appetizer when it comes to potlucks (and let’s be real here, it’s either a ready to go salad or chips and store bought salsa). Hot tip: The Rice Krispie recipe is right on the box you guys.

8) Crafts. I hated art when I was a kid. Hands down my least favourite class. I once cried for an entire day in grade six because I couldn’t draw a heart when doing a Valentine’s Day craft (still can’t, still cry about it). So you can imagine my horror when a) I once had to teach art as an actual class and b) I ran the playpark summer program where you had to do a morning craft EVERY SINGLE DAY. We made so many egg carton caterpillars it isn’t even funny. When I could get away with it I would often declare it “game board day” or “scavenger hunt for sand and rocks day” instead of having to do the craft. Now my son wants to “be crafty” all the time and I wonder what I have done to deserve this.

9) Watching Sports. I hate watching any sort of sporting activity either live or on TV. I will go to an actual sporting event, but that is really for the drinking. I usually never even watch the game. I also hate watching any type of sport on TV, well except for figure skating (or fancy skating as my grandma used to call it); I like the costumes. I am certain that in my version of hell I would be forced to eat hot dogs covered in mushrooms with warm milk while watching football (or worse yet baseball) on TV. I am well aware that this sounds like heaven for many of you. For those of you who agree with me you are my true soul mates.

10) Playing Sports. I am basically the opposite of athletic. When I was forced to play sports as a child I was always afraid of the ball. Even though the classic line from A League of their Own “There is no crying in baseball”, in my world there was nothing but crying in baseball. I cried if I couldn’t hit the ball, if the ball was coming too fast, if I was put in right field (I knew that was the loser spot) and all the rest in between. Don’t get me started on the excuse rolodex I had to get out of gym class in high school.

11) Ordering Coffee from Starbucks. Until their baristas can spell people’s names correctly (my name is Carmen, not Herman) I won’t feel bad that I have no idea how to use their pretentious coffee lingo. I’ll tell you what I want and you figure out how to put that in your cult coffee code.

12) Painting. Despite the fact that I have done my fair share of painting, I still have not improved. I was forced to paint as part of child labour during the summers (the dreaded staining of the deck), I had to paint the inside of a house as a form of payment during an internship (trust me, she was better off accepting cash), and I had a summer job that involved painting pools and playpark equipment (let’s just say I had so much paint all over myself that everyone called me Braveheart all summer). We learned a very valuable lesson that summer: do not use outdoor paint inside a room with no windows or ventilation. The crew also left me alone painting playpark equipment with literally a brush and a can of paint. Do you know how hard it is to paint a jungle gym by hand? Or a swing set that is 10 feet high with no ladder? Of course I did a shitty job.

13) How to Pack for a Weekend. By weekend I mean like 2-3 days. I always pack as if I will never return home. I pack day and evening outfits for me and the kids, winter and summer clothes regardless of what time of year it is (hey you never know when a heat wave can strike), clothes for any sort of inclement weather (what if there is a flood and I don’t have rubber boots?), multiple pairs of shoes and coats, bedding (no joke I bring my kids’ blankets), you name it, I have it. My husband always says, “You know we are just going for 2 days right”? The worst part is I know that I will probably just spend all weekend in the same pair of sweats.

14) Getting More Twitter Followers. I try but the only followers I seem to get are from the adult film star or weirdo variety. I suppose it just takes one funny tweet to go viral, but I’ve got some golden tweets and yet…nothing. My brother doesn’t even like my tweets anymore. Perhaps I need a new Twitter handle…feel free to make suggestions. My deep need for validation from complete strangers will never be actualized until I have at least 500 followers. I am currently at 92, not that I am counting or anything.

15) How to Light a Pilot Light. I have a phobia of fire and things blowing up on me rendering me so disfigured that my own family won’t recognize me, so naturally this is something I will never do. Nope not willing to learn. Before I had a husband who could do such things I actually called Sask Energy to come and light it for me. Seemed too easy really, but I found out why this guy was so willing to come. Two young girls who couldn’t have a hot shower, yup this guy showed up in record time. This guy turned out to be a horrible person and basically told us he was willing to cheat on his wife and would help us in the shower if we needed (hmmm guy sounds like a winner doesn’t he??). But I would rather have this buffoon be completely inappropriate and disgusting than have to light that pilot light myself.

16) How to Unplug a Toilet. Another disgusting job I will not do. Once again this was actually a job requirement for my summer job as a janitor and I totally just pretended it didn’t need to be done. One evening someone called for the janitor over the loudspeaker to the men’s washroom and I just hid in the break room until I felt it was safe to emerge. I would often just blindly spray disinfectant into the stalls as seriously there is nothing grosser than cleaning up a stranger’s shit. Whenever I am having a bad day I often ask myself, “Self, would you rather clean the men’s bathroom after a rodeo cabaret when you yourself are hungover, or explain the same algebra question 20 times?” I instantly feel better. That is why shitty jobs exist (pun totally intended) so that when you are working in your soul crushing career you know it can always be worse.

17) My Garage. Aside from occasionally parking in there (with a tennis ball hanging from the roof to guide me) I seriously don’t know what half of that stuff is in there or how to operate it. I did use a weed eater once (again as part of a summer job), but I weed eated a snake skin and that was the end of that. I threw the thing down and ran in the truck. Perhaps that is why I was sent to clean toilets. I have never used a lawn mower, but I know we have one. Using a ladder is pointless as I still wouldn’t be tall enough to do anything once I’m on it. I do know that there is a mini fridge in there full of beer and the garage is where we store our empty whiskey bottles. I suppose that is all I really need to know.

18) How to Say No to Salespeople. Over the past few years I have cost our household hundreds of dollars. The main reason is because I can’t say no when someone comes to my house selling something or when I get accosted outside of a store. I wish it was just Girl Guide cookies I am buying, but sadly those sweet cookie girls don’t come around often enough. In the past seven years I have signed up for/bought 2 different alarm systems, a Home Depot credit card, a Sobeys MasterCard, a subscription to the Leader Post (which I receive at work already), an aerated lawn on several occasions, weed control on several occasions, numerous raffle tickets for things I don’t even want or need (like raffle tickets for fishing packages… I have never once been fishing) and probably more things than I care to admit. I have tried saying no, but these sales people are ruthless and don’t take no for an answer. I get so uncomfortable I’ll do just about anything to make them go away. Don’t worry my husband makes me call and cancel everything almost immediately and I even think I may have gotten the Sobeys MasterCard guy fired when I called to cancel the card and told them he pressured me so hard to sign up that I felt trapped. I really laid into how badly this guy made me feel and made a formal complaint. I also told Sobeys that they were dead to me and I’d never shop there again. I do that when I get angry and then boycott places for life. I suppose some people might describe me as “spiteful”. But if you pressure me to buy or sign up for something I probably will in the moment, but then I will get you back like an hour later when I call the company and complain about your aggressive sales tactics. Oh and if you come to my door and both my children are trying to escape out of the front door with nothing but underwear on because you showed up at bath time, trust me when I tell you that THIS IS NOT A GOOD TIME. Best time to come back? A quarter after never.

19) Gangster Rap. I like to think that I am a bit of a connoisseur of music and have exceptional taste. I mean Pearl Jam is my favourite band…need I say more? But there is one genre of music, that although I have had to listen to my fair share of, I still know nothing about. Gangster rap. Although I did learn a considerable amount from watching “Straight Outta Compton” a dozen times, I kept thinking Ice Cube was Ice Tea the entire time. Clearly I know very little. However, I have students who love to listen to this type of music and make it their mission to try and convert me (will NEVER happen). They were telling me about the types of songs that they like. There is a song out there in the rap world called “Billy Crystal”. So naturally I asked the question, “I wonder if the real Billy Crystal is mad they named this song about him.” The room was silent. In fact, nobody in the room, other than me, even knew who Billy Crystal was. Then I actually listened to the song. It is about a guy named Billy who likes crystal meth, not the comedian Billy Crystal. Case closed on why I know nothing about rap as I also know nothing about illicit drug use.

20) Putting Together Furniture. There is nothing worse than getting the instructions out of the box with an assortment of screws, 87 steps, and one shitty little Allan wrench. Watching my husband put together our baby’s crib (which took several days and a case of beer) solidified all the reasons I will either have my husband put together all furniture for life or pay to have some do it. Money does buy happiness when it allows me to never have to learn these skills.

20 Reasons Why I am the Parent in Charge

I love my husband. He is a great father to our kids and he really is my best friend. However, when it comes to our kids we have very different roles. While my husband is attentive and loving and fun, there is a whole other side to parenting that he really has no part in. I have 1000 different things to do in a day and as the last few years have gone by I have come to the realization that my life is so different when it comes to our kids because I am the parent in charge. The enforcer. The planner. The organizer. The cleaner. The communicator. The shit picker upper (literally and figuratively). Yes, I do it all and I know every single detail about my boys and how our house runs. Here are some of the reasons why.

1)I sent my hubby for groceries. Actually just 8 things. He called me twice from the store.

2)He has no idea what sizes of clothes/shoes our kids wear. He also doesn’t know what is in the bag he takes with our kids when he drops them off at daycare. (spare clothes, hats, sunscreen, stuffies, the emergency soother)

3)The man cold. Do I even have to go here? Whenever he is under the weather, he always whines “take care of me.” This includes the making of whatever will make him feel better and being at his beckon call whilst still doing everything I normally do. When I am sick I get sent to the basement in some sort of quarantine and he may throw down some crackers every now and again. When it comes to our kids being sick, apparently he “doesn’t do puke.” I have come to find out that he also doesn’t do diarrhea, poop explosions, boogers in noses, pretty much anything gross that can come out of a child.

4)He asked me how old our neighbour who babysits our kids is. I said “Grade 8”, to which he replied, “That means nothing to me. So she’s like 8?” Yes, an 8-year-old takes care of our kids until midnight when we actually go out. He has also never booked the babysitter himself and he always has to ask me what her name is.

5)He has no idea what to feed them. If I don’t specifically tell him what to make he will just give our kids chicken fingers and fries. Every. Single. Time.

6)When I have “mommy time” it is in the evening after my kids are in bed. My husband golfs. Yes, that’s right…a 5-hour hobby that occurs in the middle of the day. Awesome.

7)He doesn’t understand the importance of “night diapers” and changing our 2-year-old just before bed or else he will wake up prematurely soaked in urine. I am also the only one who apparently knows where we keep the spare sheets.

8)Speaking of bedding, my hubby often tells me that before we met he never washed his sheets weekly like I do. In fact, he never did it at all because he didn’t think he needed to. GROSS.

9)Counting to 3 really works. Please follow my lead and just do it already.

10)He didn’t know a) the name of our son’s preschool b) where the school is located c) his teacher’s name d) what days he attends and e) basic every day communication.

11)I am a teacher. This is a fact. Because of this my husband told me that when it comes to our kids’ education/school choice/homework/extra curricular activities/high school/university/lifelong learning, that he would “just leave me in charge of that”. Hmmm that seems fair.

12)He didn’t know that when you go to another child’s birthday party that it is customary to bring that child a gift. I am pretty sure that this is a societal norm, but okay. He then asked if we needed to send money with our son to pay for the party, you know like 20 bucks? I also don’t need to point out (but totally will) that I was the one who rsvp’d to the party, went to the store, bought the child a gift, wrapped it, and had my child make a delightful handmade card to go with it.

13)Valentines, birthday party invites, teacher presents, daycare incidentals…I’m sure you know where I am going with this…don’t worry I got it.

14)Now I did grow up with a brother so I am quite familiar with the “poop excuse”. Although growing up I thought my brother was some masterful genius as he always got out of dishes to “have a session” as he called it (disgusting I know). I came to realize it wasn’t just my brother, but all men use that excuse. My husband uses this excuse more than the average man I am sure. Bath time, bed time, dinner time, really any time I could use an extra pair of hands, he is beckoned to the bathroom. Always. I have come to notice he never has to go during naptime, happy hour, evening hours, when I suggest a run for ice cream. Moms never use that excuse because moms don’t poop I guess.

15)I schedule EVERYTHING. I literally make all the plans, figure all the necessary shit out, and put it all into his phone which will set off alarms when he is to do certain things or be somewhere. Sometimes I’ll put little things in there like “buy your wife a surprise today” (a gift certificate for the spa and some mini eggs). I mean I obviously have to be specific.

16)I pack all our shit when we go somewhere and all he has to do is pack it in the car, which is a cake walk compared to the laundry, snacks, stuffies, sippy cups, etc. that I have to organize and put in their respective bags to be placed nice and neatly next to the door. It must be nice to not have to worry about whether Elmo made the trip or not because your awesome wife is on the case. The one time I didn’t put my bag by the door my husband didn’t put it in the car and I didn’t have any clothes for 2 days.

17)When I have down time I am meal planning, cleaning, doing laundry, you know that endless list of 1000 things. When my husband has down time he is watching sports and picking players in his golf pool. Did you know that golf practically runs all year? So. Many. Tournaments.

18)It’s offensive to ask me if “the tomato truck is in town”. If I’m bitchy it’s because I am organizing all of our kids toys in their proper bins; a job you don’t even know exists.

19)Like my father, my husband finds out what our kids are getting for Christmas on Christmas morning. He is equally as surprised as my children.

20)To me the most important part of doing the dishes is the wiping of the table and countertops. This is always the part my husband leaves out because “doing the dishes” is just that. Just remember that things you believe should be implied, are not. They need to be forcibly directed with charts, graphs, overheads, slideshows, power points, and a series of sticky notes. Also, whenever I do the dishes (which is many times a day) I don’t announce it the household. “I just did the dishes” and then waiting for praise enrages me. Especially when there is food littered under the table.

**Note: I read this to my husband and while he admits that many of these things are completely true, he wants you all to know that pre marriage and kids he used to golf A LOT. Now he just golfs A LITTLE. The good news is I get to hear about how much he used to golf A LOT. Oh and it’s all in good fun. He has to live with me after all. Don’t worry the next post will be self deprecating humour all about myself. I also agreed that when it comes to the house he is the one in charge, but with the kids there is nothing I don’t know about them. I told him to challenge me on this and all he could come up with was if I knew how to clean the boy parts. Good grief.


How to Live with Toddlers

How to Live With Toddlers

Living with two children aged 4 and under, I can now say I know what it is like to live with miniature assholes. (It’s okay to say that you know. I don’t actually refer to my children as assholes…well at least not to their face). 2-4 year olds are the absolute worst. Sure they can be cute, and loving, and awesome, but they literally can do NOTHING on their own. They need help with everything and sometimes they give up trying all together. There is nothing worse than trying to dress your 2 year old when they have gone all “limp noodle” on you. They also spend most of their day in tears or causing others to be. And the screaming, my gosh the screaming. My kids scream for everything-food, toys, just because. It is the closest I’ll ever be to living in an insane asylum. Now I know I can’t be the only one who hides in the pantry to get away from their toddlers, so I have thought of some ways to make life a tad bit easier. You’re welcome.

1) Toddler snacks are really your snacks. When I am hiding in my pantry I sometimes like to eat my toddler’s snacks. I feel so much better just sitting on my step stool and slamming a Bear Paw. It’s almost like a little payback or “I’ll get back at you for that tantrum. We shall see how funny it is when all your animal crackers are gone.” Try it. Completely liberating. Plus who are we kidding? I totally buy Teddy Grahams for myself to eat when the kids go to bed.

2) Stop cleaning. Seriously. I have found Kraft Dinner is much easier to pick up off the floor when it has dried. Those Cheerios scattered all over your floor will get eaten eventually. Secretly just throw your kids shitty McDonald’s toys/half crayons/any toy that has annoying music, in the trash when they go to bed. They’ll never know. You will get so used to the fingerprints all over your windows that you won’t remember a time when they weren’t there. Embrace the aisles of scattered Legos and Hot Wheels in your living room. It’s good exercise to try and squat and lunge around those death machines so you don’t kill yourself stepping on them.

3) Enforce naptime like your life depends on it. Both my boys nap right after lunch whether they want to or not. No negotiation. No, “but I’m not tired”. My response is always the same, “lie down and pretend you are.” Those 2 hours are what gets me through life at this point. Don’t try and clean or even shower. No one likes a martyr. Lie on the couch and sleep or watch TV. They invented Febreeze and deodorant for moms with young children.

4) Stop worrying about mealtime. Realize now that your toddlers will most likely only eat bread, so just tell yourself that they are getting all their fruits and veggies at daycare and your job is simply to get through a meal without it being thrown on the floor. Throw in those Flintstones vitamins and you’re golden. Cereal, popsicles, and yogurt tubes are also great fillers to keep your kids entertained while you cry your way through your salad.

5) Life is not a fashion show. Little kids, especially boys, only like sweatpants and shirts with cartoon characters on them. Stop trying to dress them in suspenders and bow ties like they are off to a photo shoot. Velcro shoes, sweats, and ratty t-shirts are a toddler’s uniform. They shouldn’t even make jeans for children under 5. Well except for baby jeans; those are cute.

6) Divide and conquer. If you have more than one child it’s important to let your partner know that no matter what, if you leave the house, for any reason, you are to take one child with you. My boys are a thousand times more work when they are together (you know the lack of sharing, arguing, “it’s not fair” complaints, etc.). So separating them is not only ideal, but necessary. Going to get an oil change? Take a kid. Visiting a friend? Take a kid. Going golfing? Unless you are playing in The Masters, you are taking a kid. My husband and I don’t have a lot of rules for each other, but this is one of them and if I cry enough my husband will give in and take both kids. Just proves that he will do just about anything to get out of cleaning bathrooms (which I only clean because, well, husband, boys, urine…you get it).

7) Embrace cartoons. Accept them as part of your daily circuit. Cartoons are the ONLY reason I can shower and even then I usually have to yell something like, “I am still in here! Just wait until I get out. You better not be the one making your brother cry, but I know that you are.” You get the picture. I have certain shows PVR’d for emergency purposes and I’m not afraid to admit that Daniel Tiger’s Neighbourhood was how I potty trained my oldest (seriously You Tube the potty episode…you won’t be sorry). Child having a meltdown? Cartoons. Need to make dinner? Cartoons. Need to sleep off a hangover? Cartoons in the form of a movie. Bless you, Walt Disney. Bless you.

8) The word “no”. You will say it all day and so will your toddler. My youngest uses the word so much he now uses it as a response to most things. “Good Morning!” = “No”. “Let’s put away all your cars and go to the park”= “No” (but he means yes). “You are the cutest little thing!”= “No”. “Want a fruit snack?”= “No”….wait for it…”Yes please yes”. I think he co-wrote that Meghan Trainor song “No” as his name is in fact, no. He also screams the word as if he is on fire. I have tried to stop saying the word myself, but in panic mode to prevent a disaster, it just comes out. Except I usually throw in a few other choice words like “For the love of everything NO!!”, “What the hell? NO!!!”, or “FML…NO!!!” I guess he comes by it honestly.

9) Car Rides. My advice would be to not even attempt a long trip (and by long anything over an hour and a half). Have that wedding to attend this summer a 10 hour car ride away? Unless you leave your kids with someone else, you are not going. Until sedatives are legal for toddlers I am really not interested. If there is no way around it and you absolutely HAVE to go you should probably have the following on hand: Road snacks (a higher level up from regular snacks. So instead of dry Cheerios in a cup they get Froot Loops, instead of no name crackers they get Oreos, you get the idea), an assortment of cartoons (pull out the big guns here…Paw Patrol, PJ Masks, stay away from Arthur or that show that looks like they used graph paper to animate it), books, crayons, headphones (for both child and parent), and a triple dose of anti-depressants. You will most likely have to stop at a McDonald’s play place. Embrace it. Get that Big Mac…you’ve earned it. Whatever you do, don’t resort to putting in a cd of children’s music. Nothing will make you lose the will to live more than listening to “Wheels on the Bus” 47 times. Stay strong and remember that nothing lasts forever (well the memories might but I hear hypnotherapy works wonders).

10) Being in Public. Going anywhere with young children (even that quick trip to the grocery store) can turn disastrous almost instantly. Honestly, there is nothing worse than being in a crowded store with 2 screaming children. Even though accidents happen (poop explosion ’16 happened in a grocery cart) or misfortunate events (my son threw up in the middle of a crowded swimming pool) it is still not easy to handle with complete strangers watching (some of them with pity, others with looks of shock and horror). I do have certain rules for certain places. The grocery store: one treat per child that will be given out at the check-out lane while I spend most of the shopping trip threatening to take the treat away. Restaurants: will only go if there will be a grandparent in attendance. Toys R Us: hahahaha as if. Shopping malls: One has to be in a stroller and the other one on dad’s shoulders for a maximum time of 30 minutes. Make every attempt to avoid the foot court at all costs. Movie/Play/Concert: If you can’t sit in a seat for at least 20 minutes without crying/screaming/trying to escape, then you are not going. Doctor’s office: Well this is a must so I usually bring the I-pad and let my kids watch videos or they can bug all of the other patients in the office and destroy all the pamphlets in the waiting room. People find that adorable.

The good news is most people understand how unpredictable and sometimes volatile toddlers can be. I understand those feelings of never wanting to leave the house because it very well could end up being a disaster. But you must. You must take off your couch pants and slippers and enter the outside world with those precious little assholes of yours. And while you are home with them don’t forget how much eating a sleeve of Oreos or drinking wine out of a box can ease your pain. Take solace in the fact that toddlers are so cute for a reason. Well at least that is what people tell me.


20 Things My Kids Cried Over This Week

20 Things My Kids Cried Over This Week

When you have small children there is a good chance that someone in your house is always crying (parent and kids alike). My boys cry All. THE. TIME. I can tolerate crying over reasonable things such as falling down and getting hurt or being scared. However, these reasons make up only 5% of the actual things my kids cry about. Here is a sample of the ridiculous things my children cried over this week.

My sons (they really are interchangeable here) cried because…

1) He wouldn’t wear his pj’s because the bear on his shirt wasn’t smiling.

2) He wanted to lick sidewalk chalk like a lollipop. I wouldn’t let him.

3) He didn’t want us to put his bread in the toaster. He wanted to eat it frozen. Didn’t eat it. Cried when it unthawed and wanted it frozen again.

4) I gave the blue plate to his brother and gave him the orange plate. Orange is his favourite colour, but not on plates.

5) I gave him milk that I had just put back in the fridge like an hour before. He said “it tastes like milk from breakfast.” Well I suppose that is true…

6) I wouldn’t let him have just ketchup as a meal.

7) His eggs tasted too “eggy”.

8) I didn’t give him the fish and steamed veggies from my plate to his plate of chicken nuggets and noodles. Gave him some and he cried because it didn’t taste like chicken nuggets and noodles.

9) I made him wear pants to preschool.

10) His granola bar looked squishy.

11) I wouldn’t let him put his fingers in an oscillating fan.

12) His pants don’t roll up the right way (they were shorts).

13) I told my older son that he looked cute with his coat and backpack on. He immediately took off said coat and backpack and cried. We need to work on what a compliment means.

14) He realized I sold a toy of his on Varage Sale (ok that is a legit reason to cry).

15) I wasn’t supplying a “2nd breakfast” shortly after “1st breakfast” was prepared, served, and thrown on the floor.

16) Brother and Sister Bear got in trouble for a bad case of the “greedy, galloping gimmies” in the Berenstain Bears book, which meant they could no longer have treats at the grocery store. He was afraid that would apply to him-he cried even harder when I said that it did.

17) I turned on the TV and Property Brothers came on instead on Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. I mean how DARE I change the channel. The TV should be on Disney Junior indefinitely.

18) He wanted to get out of the car first. Before me. The Driver. The one who needs to unbuckle his car seat and lift him OUT of the car.

19) My husband told our older son that he’ll get to look forward to having salad every day for lunch when he’s older (as he was making his salad for lunch) because that’s what adults eat. He cried because, “I don’t want to eat salad when I’m 40. You know how much I hate cucumbers”. Nothing like crying about something 36 years in the future.

20) I wouldn’t let him put the booger he just picked from HIS nose into MY mouth. For the love.

How to Decide on Baby #3

I have two kids. Both boys. They drive me insane. I long for a girl. I really want someone to go shopping with, go to musicals, have coffee dates and tea parties, you know girly shit. I realize I’ll make my boys do these things whether they want to or not, but I know it won’t be the same. I know that a girl would still call her mom after the age of 18, where my boys will probably forget I ever existed. Boys just don’t call their moms the way that girls do. Boys don’t tell their moms that they are their “best friend” when they are adults. My husband always comments on those contestants on reality shows who cry uncontrollably when they get to see a loved one after being on an island for like 20 days. He is always like, “I can go 3 months without talking to my mom, let alone seeing her. I don’t understand how they are so emotional over seeing their mom.” Case in point. A girl would miss her mom if she was stuck on an island filming a television show I’ll tell you that much.

Even though I hated every single moment of both pregnancies, had two C-sections (which totally suck by the way), had two very unhappy colicky newborns, who just so happened to be boys, it actually wasn’t a simple decision to decide on whether or not to have a 3rd baby. I mean I do love my boys and would certainly be happy to have another member added to our family (#blessed). And let’s be honest, I would relish the thought of having a girl. So for anyone who may be grappling with this decision here’s my “How To” list on deciding whether you should “pull the goalie” and go for it. (For the record, I hate that expression, but my husband used it so much the last few years it has become a part of my vernacular. My apologies.)

1) Age: When you have a pregnancy after the age of 35 they call it a geriatric pregnancy. GERIATRIC. Like as in old people. This factor alone makes me not want to. I mean I don’t have liver spots for goodness sake. I don’t order off the senior’s menu or spend my afternoons playing backgammon (although that would be pretty sweet). I certainly don’t feel like listening to my doctor use the word geriatric for the next 9 months. I’ll pass.

2) Pregnancy: I’ve said it already, but I literally hated every second/minute/hour of both pregnancies. That “glow” people talk about? Never had it. I was also the size of a large house with both boys and would often lie about my due date. People love to ask you when you are due and if you are carrying twins when you are pregnant and large, which is super awesome. It would be December and someone would ask if I was preparing for a “Christmas baby” and I’d be all like “Yeah might come the same night as Santa…hahaha”. Nope I was due in March. The last three months of my pregnancies I would routinely tell people that I was due “any day now”. Unless you are one of those people who you can’t even tell they are pregnant until the last month and then they look like a stunning Thyme Maternity model, you shouldn’t comment on how someone looks during pregnancy. The way that I was feeling when I was pregnant I would have seriously punched someone in the face if one more person asked me if “I was sure there was just one in there”.

3) The Birth: For some women birth is a magical experience. The birth of my 1st son was nothing short of traumatic. 12 hours of labour followed by an emergency C-section to cap off being awake for 48 hours. The. Worst. The recovery from that was enough to make me never want to go near my husband again let alone have another one. With my 2nd son it was a scheduled C-section, which is a cake walk in comparison, but still major surgery and still not a very fun recovery. The highlight of the birth of my 2nd son was more that it felt like a vacation where I didn’t have to cook or clean for a few days and get a break from my very active 2 year old. I also knew what to expect this time. The first time around my husband was so worried about his “sleeping arrangements” at the hospital that I just about killed him. The second time I told him it was about me and the baby and I don’t care if he doesn’t sleep for days because he is to be at my beckon call and change all of those meconium diapers. Thinking back those two days at the hospital were blissful. The actual birth part though, not so much. The doctor asked me three different times (while popping his head out of that curtain they put up) if I wanted to “close up the shop” since the hood was already up. Ugh is there not a better way to ask that or not at all?

4) Newborns: My experience with newborns has not been pleasant. My boys were horrendous newborns. My older son cried morning, noon, and night and was full of gas (he takes after his dad). Add in the fact that I had literally no idea what I was doing and it was nothing short of a disaster. A disaster that lasted 4 months. At this point I’m sure you are surprised that I even had a 2nd. I am too. I guess I’d rather just have another baby and stop all the questions of “When are you having another”? It seems like people like to ask that question like minutes after giving birth. Seriously? My next son was actually a worse newborn than my first. He threw up constantly and was a terrible eater (and believe me the jokes my husband always made that he was bulimic got old real fast). These memories are seared into my brain. Those months with my newborns were the most draining months of my life. The thought of doing that again….well I’d rather sell fruit at intersections. I know they grow out of it, but combine a pregnancy and newborn period and that is OVER A YEAR… and then there are all those years that come after that. As someone who is currently going through “the terrible two’s” for the third year in a row I’m not really sure that things are all that much better now.

5) Cost: In 2016 it’s expensive to have kids. Between daycare, school, sports, food, etc. I don’t think we could afford a 3rd. For real. Maybe I’m super selfish, but being able to go to Vegas for a long weekend or go on an all-inclusive vacation to get away from the children I do have, seems like a better use of my finances.

6) The Man Surgery: Well anyone whose husband has had a vasectomy knows that dealing with your husband after the fact is literally like going through having another baby. The moaning, crying, “take care of me” wailing, etc. is a tad ridiculous. Because you know what happened after my C-sections? I was handed a newborn that needs 24 hour care, not a weekend lying in bed watching sports. I was so annoyed with my husband by the end of the weekend I swear I could have given him the vasectomy myself.

7) Purging of the Baby Items: I kind of knew that perhaps I was done having kids when the minute my 2nd child outgrew something I had it on Varage Sale (virtual garage sale for those that don’t know about my addiction). Oh that shirt is too small? Sell it. Haven’t played with that toy in 3 days? Sold. I could not get rid of that shit fast enough. I swear there is nothing more rewarding than getting that oversized jumperoo out of the centre of my living room. Good riddance.

8) The 3rd Born: Now we need to state one very important fact here. I am a third born. Can you even imagine if my mom decided she was happy with her boy and girl? (yes she had one of both and decided to keep going). I know. Inconceivable. I think about that often. What if I don’t let the world in on what could be the dream child that so many 3rd children turn out to be? Then I realized that my 1st born is exactly like me and I’m not sure I want to roll the dice and have yet another Mini Me. I may be awesome, but I am also a lot to handle as my son proves to me on a daily basis. He may look like his dad, but that personality of his? All me and we both know it.

9) All Boys: One day I came back from the grocery store to find my husband and 2 boys sitting in their underwear (and diaper) watching golf on TV. That right there is all you need to know about why the thought of 4 males in my house terrifies me. Well that and realizing that my bathroom will always smell of urine.

10) House Full of Love: This reason right here is actually why this was even a decision in the first place. So far there are so many reasons not to, but this one right here would make it worth it. Girl, boy, whatever, it wouldn’t matter as long as we had another child to love. Shit. Sorry I am getting all soft and mushy mom here. I will resume my normal, sarcastic, cold hearted self. My apologies.

Ultimately after very little deliberation, my husband and I decided that our little family is perfect the way it is. (Dammit mushy mom again….I’ll quit I swear). I’ll just kidnap my nieces and make them do fun girly shit with their poor auntie who lives in a house full of boys and has to clean her bathrooms five times a day. Plus my husband is still insistent on having a child and naming him Frank. Yup safe to say that is a wrap on the “should we or shouldn’t we” debate. Case closed.

Up next: A special segment entitled “20 things my kids cried about this week”


How To Throw a Child’s Birthday Party

If I were to tell you what my number one fear was when becoming a parent I’m sure you would guess either 1) keeping a helpless infant alive 2) sleepless nights with said helpless infant or 3) how to place a helpless infant into one of those godforsaken baby slings. However, the real answer is birthday parties. Before my 1st son was even born I worried about the planning, administering, conducting of, everything to do with having a successful birthday party. Seriously, this stressed me out.

I am not creative. I loathe Pinterest. I hate going to other children’s birthday parties. I don’t even want to go to my own child’s birthday party. But this year my son was turning 4. A 4 year old is starting to have actual friends and not just children I force him to play with because they have the same pant size. Not to mention, he is at an age where he might remember that he didn’t get to have a birthday party when he turned 4 because “mommy is lazy”, or whatever he will tell his future therapist.

The year before, when he was 3, I invited my friends’ children (once again from forced playdates) and did “Pancake and Pyjamas” theme, an idea I clearly stole from someone on Facebook who obviously trolls Pinterest like it’s her job. It went over well and of course I took complete credit and then suggested the idea to others like I came up with it on my own. Obviously. This year was going to be different though. I was going to have to invite children I did not really know. Children who have parents who could possibly judge me for not having enough crafts/songs/life lessons about sharing involved in this birthday party. I know I shouldn’t care about moms judging other moms, but y’all know it happens! I am still sensitive about not nursing my second child and affiliating that with why he grunts and points instead of talks, so back off!

I asked my son what he wanted to do for a theme and gently (with a bit of desperation) suggested we could do the same thing as last year because it was so much fun! Pancakes! Pyjamas! Extra syrup! No dice. Instead he replied, “Let’s do cake and clothes instead”. Helpful. So naturally I resorted to a Paw Patrol theme because that’s what all the other 4 years olds are doing (hey there is plenty of time for him to set his own path in life and be an individual and all that other crap).

So if you want to know exactly how to tackle that dreaded birthday party, I have some pointers. The first hurdle is the invitations. Right here is where things can get out of hand. Do I invite the whole class? Do I invite all the random kids in the neighborhood? More importantly, how many kids can I have in my home without inducing heart palpations? According to my husband, the answer is 3, but clearly I have to invite those kids that will make my child happy. You know because I am such a good mom.

Next, you need to think about the food. I know it’s annoying that you have to feed them. Obviously, I’ll order a mediocre cake from the grocery store the night before. I’ll assume that they can make a cake in the shape of one of the Paw Patrol dogs and hope for the best. (They don’t by the way…have to settle for a “Happy Birthday” written in icing). I suppose I could have done that myself, but I don’t bake and now is not the time to pretend that I do. Bless you if you saw the Pinterest post for Thomas the Train cupcakes using real trains and Kit Kat bars, but I’m not interested in that shit. Partly because I don’t see the necessity and partly because kids would eat cake served on the floor because IT’S CAKE. Maybe I am tainted because my children would happily eat food out of the garbage (oh and they have), but to me cake is cake. I also know enough to plan a birthday party between the hours of 2-4 so that all I have to serve is cake and a few juice boxes. I might put out of bag of chips on the counter, which would just be for me to eat while I watch children terrorize my home. Keep it simple and just make sure you don’t open the booze until the children leave (or at least until you can say “It’s 5 o’clock somewhere” when a parent gives you the evil eye).

Now here’s the thing. I’m a bit of a cheap ass. Shocker. That’s why I won’t buy/make some specialty cake. That is also why I figured having my child’s party in my own home would also be cheaper. But with having a home party comes the need to entertain and have games planned. Again, it’s because I’m supermom. I highly recommend having a plan here people. Don’t think you can “wing” this….that my friends, is a rookie mistake. So I had some crafts planned (paper bag puppets…not my first rodeo) and these foam dinosaur kits I got from the dollar store (double points there for cheapness). I had them ready just in case. I was hoping the kids would just run around and play. Nope they all loved the idea of a craft when my son spilled the beans about me buying glue, which could only mean one thing. Glue=messy craft=so much fun. Shoot. Me. Now. Crafts with 3 and 4 year olds (and my 22 month old to boot) is basically you making it for them while all the other kids scream at you “I need help”. “I want eyes on my puppy”.” I want to make a dragon that breathes real fire”. “Where is the glitter? I am not making anything unless you get me glitter.” And on and on it goes. This is the point where this two hour birthday party feels like it’s been 2 years. Two years in prison. Perhaps it would be better to make a bunch of puppets ahead of time and let them randomly put on stickers. I’ll let you know how that goes over next year.

After the craft and signing of “Happy Birthday” and eating of cake, there is the matter of the presents. Anyone with a young child has that fear. You know what I’m talking about. That fear that your child will throw a tantrum at the present they received, or god forbid ignore the gift entirely. Of course I spoke to my son (well we rehearsed a very well thoughtful and meaningful message) before the party to make sure he was thankful and appreciative. I suppose I was fearful about the story my mom tells about my brother’s 3rd birthday where he opened all his presents and told everyone he didn’t like any of them. Oh the horror! And that was back in the days when parents didn’t attend parties with their kids or if they did they sat in the kitchen smoking cigarettes and drinking Diet Coke. If your child does throw a fit at not liking a particular gift, I would simply throw out the old cliché “Kids will be kids”, or something along those lines and immediately fake an emergency that requires you anywhere but in that room.

Once you finish making your child hug every child at the party and look them directly in their eyes and say “Thank You”, you are just counting down the minutes until either the parents come to pick up their child or the parents that stayed get the hint that you want them out of your house. Just remember that this will soon end and you will be able to crack open that 8 dollar bottle of wine knowing that you deserve it because you are “Mom of the Year”! Don’t forget the goody bags though. Oh yes, the treat bag every child wants, but no parent appreciates having in their house. All goody bags are the same. Cheap ass toys from the dollar store, recycled pencils from every other birthday party, an organic, nut/peanut/ gluten free snack that will boost your child’s immune system, and stickers/tattoos that you will most likely toss in the trash when your child is not looking. I suppose it is a nice way to say “Thanks for coming to my birthday party”, but truly isn’t the joy of making your own paper bag puppet enough? It isn’t, so just give in and make up the goody bags with the above mentioned necessities and save yourself the criticism you will receive if you don’t do it. Then you are home free and you can relish in the fact that there will be 364 days until you have to do it again (unless you have more than one kid and you will likely have to do it again in like another month).

Oh and while we’re at it can we just can all the bullshit holidays please? You know what we used to get for Valentine’s Day? Yes that’s right…Valentine’s. That’s it. You know what we used to do for St. Patrick’s Day? NOTHING. That isn’t a thing until you are old enough to drink green beer. We did not have “Elf on the Shelf” at Christmas time. We had a “you better be good or you’ll be in trouble with dad” lecture that lasted all damn year. Christmas was one day, not three weeks of super fun surprises every damn day. You know what that clever little Easter bunny left us? Jelly beans and those giant chocolate bunnies that would accumulate a village in my parent’s deep freeze. So can we just go back to this please? I am far too lazy to add any more shit to my already shitty plate.

I vote that we make the birthday party and all holidays and non-holidays alike a much more simple affair. My birthday parties as a kid were the same every year. We went swimming at the local hotel pool and came back to my house for pizza and cake. And you know what? I loved it. I didn’t feel slighted because my mom didn’t spend $500 at Dino Bouncers. My mom is just like me…Mom of the Year…well at least in my kids’ eyes I am and that is all that matters anyways.

Next Post: How to decide on Baby #3 (Did we or didn’t we??)


How to figure me out…

Hey you! Yes you! Welcome to my blog! I wanted to introduce you all to what has been labelled as 2016’s New Year’s Resolution (3 months late….awesome start). I figured I’d try my hand at blogging since I need to jump on the “be your boss, work from home, earn extra income” bandwagon. So what the hell can I start that could lead to a home business? I don’t wear jewelry. I am more than happy to use the same skin cleanser I have used since I was 15. I don’t care about expensive Tupperware that I don’t even have room for. However, I have always wanted to have a forum where I could express my hilarious ideas and search for validation from complete strangers or people I haven’t seen or heard from since Grad ’97. Plus I get really really bored.

The first thing I needed to do after setting up my blog was to think about what I wanted it to be about. Obviously there are many facets that make up who I am, but I didn’t want to hone in on one particular part and write just about that. Therefore, I have decided to make this blog more of a “How To” blog where I impart my infinite wisdom on a complete gamut of subjects and pretend that I am a complete expert on everything. If you are not fluent in sarcasm I do suggest that you quit reading this immediately. I have no time for hurt feelings or anyone thinking I am remotely serious in half of what I say. Purely entertainment. I figure this introduction to all things Carmen and my wonderful blog entitled “Funny Girl Problems and How to Solve Them” should include a list of the most important points on how to get to know me.

1) The Basics: I have been married for six years and have two boys aged 4 and 2. Please stop asking me if we are “trying for a girl”. I tried for a girl 2 other times and ended up with boys. Don’t get me wrong. I love my boys and all that crap, but when I see my friends who have girls and post pictures of them reading quietly together and colouring nicely at a table, it enrages me. My boys run around without pants and try and cage match each other all day long. Also, don’t tell me that I will be happy I have boys when they are teenagers. That is like a decade from now, which in mom terms is like forty lifetimes. Plus, I will need to refinance my mortgage just to feed them….sounds like a dream.

2) I have a full time job as a teacher therapist, and even though this will disappoint many, I will not blog about my awesome and sometimes hilarious job. Sorry, but people get fired for that shit.

3) I don’t do my hair. I mean I wash it and stuff; I’m not disgusting, but my hair has looked the exact same since I was 2 years old. Part down the middle, semi long, blonde, and most likely in a half ponytail or pulled back in a headband. That, in a nutshell, says mostly everything you really need to know about me.

4) My least favourite personality type is high maintenance dumb people who think they are smart and low maintenance. You all know them (and sadly for some are related to them…but not me of course), and will agree with me that there is nothing worse. I would rather lick a fly swatter than spend an afternoon with someone who knows everything about everything, but would have trouble completing the skill testing question in McDonald’s Monopoly.

5) I love House Hunters, but hate House Hunters International. I love peas, but hate pea soup. Sometimes life is confusing.

6) When I was a child I wanted to grow up and be a maid. Kirk Cameron’s maid, but a maid nonetheless. Now I want to be on that show “Hoarding: Buried Alive”. Not as one of the hoarders, but as one of those people who have to wear Hazmat suits to clean out people’s houses of dead cats. I love decluttering and cleaning out people’s houses (and really I have only been allowed to clean out my mom’s since other people think “it’s weird” for me to start going through their stuff), but I always think this could be another career path for me. If you think you may require my services, just know that I charge by the hour and will resell most of your items on Varage Sale and keep the profits. Seems fair.

7) I have quite a few ridiculous fears. I know that they are illogical and random, but these are literally the things that keep me up at night: being attacked by wild dogs(or just regular dogs sitting on your couch looking out the window and barking at me), being forced fed mushrooms out of can (in fairness, this one actually happened…scarred for life), the fact that McDonald’s pizza was not popular enough to keep it on the menu and I may never again experience that deliciousness, making a meal in the crock pot and leaving it unattended for 10 hours in an empty house where the potential for fire seems imminent ( I mean seriously how do people do this??), being forced to do a job where I have to operate heavy machinery, and ordering any type of food over the phone (seriously this is a thing).

8) I do have a legitimate talent. I can remember people’s birthdays. If you are from my hometown (well even if you’re not I tell everyone I meet that I can do this) you would have heard about how I’m the girl who remembers birthdays. I can tell you what day of the week your birthday will fall on each year, what I did on that particular day, who else has a birthday the same day as you, etc. There was a 60 Minutes episode about this once and they referred to this type of ability as Superior Autobiographical Memory. For each person it can be something different. The one guy they interviewed could remember every single stat from his favourite football team. I can’t do that, but mainly because I absolutely have no interest in football. However, for some reason birthdays and dates in general are just kind of my forte. My husband thinks there is a market for this type of talent. However, I’m not so sure a good memory has helped me out at all. If anything it makes me super annoyed when people don’t remember things/events/MY ANNIVERSARY (for an example) when I so easily can. Perhaps this is the cross I have to bear.

9) I love television. I really do. I actually hate people who say “I hate tv” or “I don’t have time to watch tv” or “I’d just rather read a book.” Oh quit acting like you’re better than me and binge watch a series on Netflix already. Netflix seriously has changed my life. When I was sick with strep throat last month I watched the entire season of Fuller House in one day (Please no judgement….many of you had it set on your calendars too). Reality tv though is probably my personal favourite. Mainly because I long to be on Big Brother (but nothing else….too old to be on The Bachelor (well that and I’m married), I would never be able to do the challenges on Survivor, I would probably cry through The Amazing Race because I would yell at my partner for being so incompetent, and I’d be laughed off any cooking show with my signature Kraft Dinner and hot dogs dish). And let’s face it….when you have small children tv is the only friend you really have.

10) While I am a self-proclaimed expert on many things, there are some things I truly know nothing about. Most of these things are an embarrassment not only to myself, but to those people who did not teach them to me in the first place (sorry parents). I never knew that cars needed oil changes until I literally had no oil in my car and it quit working. I always thought that the question mark on town welcome signs meant “we don’t know what else is in this town” instead of the obvious “Information”. I have never operated a lawn mower. When I go to the hairdresser and she says “What would you like to do today?” I always say, “’you choose” because I literally have no idea what to say (see #3). It took me like 5 years to learn how to merge in traffic. The list goes on and on. But don’t worry, I will learn how to do those things I have not mastered and fill you in.

My plan is to update my blog at least once a month. I hope you enjoy it and it makes you laugh. That my friends, is all I am really looking for:)

Next post: How to throw a child’s birthday party (when you really, really hate them)