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Category Archives: fat children

Take me out of this ball game…


Besides it being Father’s Day it is also more importantly the last day of baseball.

It really couldn’t come fast enough.

I came home this afternoon and dumped the kids trophies off in the trophy room and felt like a weight was lifted off of me.

trophies

If you are currently thinking “Wow  – your kids must be amazing 7 and 8-year-old athletes to receive this many trophies!”

The answer to that would be “No – they suck…but this is the amount of trophies and awards that children receive in today’s world of overindulgence excessive accolades.”

I am so tired of 4-5 nights of practice/slash games. I am tired of taco and chicken nugget dinners night after night because we don’t get home until 8 PM. I am tired of stripping down the children and daily scrubbing and washing of baseball pants.

More than once I have woken up in the night in a cold sweat realizing that I forgot to wash the game pants and run down to the basement with a stain stick just in time.

Sam’s league is filled with kindergarteners who shit their pants and don’t know how to run bases and Michael has not played well this season – so sitting in a hot field to witness these games doesn’t interest me much.

With all of that aside - what I am most excited to be rid of as the season comes to a close is the BASEBALL PARENTS!

I think it’s not all that surprising when you come across Dads that are coaching and trying to live vicariously through their sons.

You know the type – the balding guy who coaches all the teams and screams and swears and acts like a complete douchebag.  The guy that makes an example of his own kid because you know…..his kid is the best ….and you know…he’s totally going to the majors.

I have an announcement to make Goopville:

NOBODY IS GOING TO THE MAJORS!!

GET A FUCKING HOLD OF YOURSELVES.

YOU DIDN’T MAKE IT TO A MAJOR LEAGUE TEAM. NEITHER WILL YOUR KID.

ACCEPT IT AND BEHAVE LIKE A NORMAL HUMAN.

These people act like complete maniacs.  They clutch their heads in despair as they watch from the sidelines, they pace back and forth and yell at their kids as thought their lives and futures depend upon their performance on the baseball fields filled with nine year olds.

Several sources (Ad Counsel, etc) have suggested that 1 in 16,000 HS players make the Majors. In most towns less than half of 12 y/o’s make the HS team. That would suggest a number somewhere upwards of 1 out of every 32 thousand kids that play in youth leagues will make the majors!!!

Nobody knows this.  Or nobody wants to believe this.  They have private baseball lessons and have their kids play baseball in the fall and spring and summer.  Some kids are in more than one league so they arrive to their second games tired and winded.

What is the point of all of this? If it’s not to make it to the big leagues than for what?

While I expect crazy dads in the youth sports arena – I was not prepared for all of the crazy baseball moms.

It starts the first week when you get an email from the “TEAM MOM” who is busy organizing the drink assignments.  This is when you get assigned a week when you are in charge of delivering a humongous cooler filled with Gatorade to the team to keep them “hydrated.”

I’m sorry – do we live in Cancun or Connecticut?

Are children so tired and thirsty that they need these huge chemical-ridden beverages?

Are children’s electrolytes that depleted that they need to consume large lemon lime beverages filled with poison?

I don’t believe in sodas and sports drinks and they are banned from my household – but magically just because “TEAM MOM” fails to read or watch DR. OZ – she has arranged things so that my children are suddenly downing flame retardant disguised as a “sports drink” necessary to getting through the game.

Our kids are soft Connecticut kids that are playing spring baseball for an hour.

They don’t deserve a sports drink.

 

If your son looks like this with blood, sweat and tears dripping down his face - then give him a Gatorade...Otherwise water will suffice.

If your son looks like this guy -with blood, sweat and tears dripping down his face – then give him a Gatorade…Otherwise water will suffice.

 

Now after all of the beverages are organized there’s the actual watching of the games.

I usually bring a chair and some magazines to sift through while I pretend to watch the game, but I end up reading the same page over and over again because I am surrounded by mothers that won’t SHUT THE FUCK UP.

Last weekend a monstrous beast that had clearly escaped from the women’s prison mom was shaking the fence while screaming at the children during the game, and then at the end of the game got in a fight with the umpire!

I can’t even think straight with all of the noise these women make and inevitably end up with a blinding headache from all of the chatter.

“Choke up!” “Good swing!” “Shorten up!” “Oh -don’t swing at that!” ” See the ball!” “Bad call!” “Hands Back” “Stay down!” “Nice spot!” “Oh- you gotta hit that!” “Oh – you gotta catch that!””Nice throw!”

It’s never-ending.

I feel like I am sitting next to like 5 Harry Caray’s…..

Literally this is what I have to listen to while I am TRYING TO READ ABOUT TORI SPELLING’S BROKEN HEART!!!

 

 

One of the mothers actually gets a babysitter to stay home with her two young children so that she can pay attention to the game!

I asked her why she would do such a thing.

“Well – when the baby is here – I miss parts of the game.  I am busy watching her and I can’t concentrate on the game,” she explained.

“Well, luckily you are not George Steinbrenner -so it’s really not so imperative that you watch every minute of the game…” I answered smartly.

“Who’s that?” she asked.

“What the hell?” I stared at her to see if she was kidding but she clearly wasn’t.  “I can’t believe you act like Annie Savoy from Bull Durham and you don’t even know who George Steinbrenner is….” I said in disbelief.

“What’s Bull Durham?” she asked innocently.

Then I realized.

These bitches don’t really know anything about baseball except what they learned in Goopville!!!

It’s so easy when you I am surrounded by mothers that are giving play by plays and acting as though they know everything there is to know about America’s favorite past-time to feel as though maybe I should care more.

Maybe I should put down the US Weekly and take a little more interest in watching these 9 year olds play baseball.

But probably not.

It’s just a game after all.  Somehow parents across America have lost sight of that and it’s sad.

 

 

 •A good friend of mine used to say, "This is a very simple game. You throw the ball, you catch the ball, you hit the ball. Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose, sometimes it rains." Think about that for a while.


A good friend of mine used to say, “This is a very simple game. You throw the ball, you catch the ball, you hit the ball. Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose, sometimes it rains.” Think about that for a while.

 

And with that all I am worrying about is getting through the last week of school!

Goodbye baseball fields and hello BEACH!!!!!

PLEASE CLICK THE BANNER BELOW TO VOTE FOR ME FOR THE FUNNIEST MOM IN AMERICA!!  Happy Father’s Day to my dad and to MR. GAGA and to all fathers!! XO, LADY GOO GOO GAGA

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Big Fish in a Kiddie Pool


As a mother I find myself continually walking a fine line between “Tiger Mom” and fat lazy American mom.

On the one hand I grew up in the 1980′s and reminisce fondly of my childhood years where there was little to no parent interaction and we would play outside all day, enjoying life without being shuffled around from activity to activity. Other times I am swayed by the mothers of Goopville that live in their SUV’s driving their children from sport to sport, music lesson to karate and wonder if I am shoving enough down their throats doing enough.

This week I wavered back and forth quite a bit.

Over the weekend, Michael had baseball tryouts. Because he is young for his grade he misses the cut-off for moving into the league for nine and ten-year-olds. Instead of staying behind with seven and eight year olds he wanted to try out to move up with some friends from last year’s team.

I have mentioned before how Mr. Gaga is quick to dismiss the children’s athletic abilities. The stress leading up to the try-outs was intense. Thank God I was working and did not have to witness the actual try-outs because Mr. Gaga said it was agonizing. They waited and watched each kid get up and field balls, catch pop-ups and hit. He said Michael’s face was bloodless and zombie-like as he waited anxiously for his turn.

A table of washed up dads that are living vicariously through their children  men took notes while staring down boys showing off their baseball moves.  They didn’t crack a smile once as they dismissed each child and called up the next.

When it was Michael’s turn, Mr. Gaga said he did ok, but we would have to wait until Wednesday to find out the results.

27y62kh

 

For some reason I picture the tryouts being pretty much like this except instead of a crazy jump with a somersault he was catching ground balls....

For some reason I picture the tryouts being pretty much like this except instead of a crazy jumps and somersaults he was catching ground balls….and he wasn’t wearing a leotard.

 

We found out mid-week that he made the team which was great news, but then I was bloodless and zombie-like.  I started to worry that we made a bad decision to let him try out.

“Maybe I should have let him stay with the younger kids so he could be the star of the team,” I said to Mr. Gaga.   “I always push him and every other mother holds their kids back so they can be superstars…..now he is going to have to keep up with ten-year-olds!!” I said wringing my hands.

“It will be fine.” Mr. Gaga answered dismissively.

Meanwhile back at the ranch, we had conference week to contend with.  I was determined to find out if Michael was stupid or smart.

His teacher showed me some of what he has been working on. The minute she started to speak about math and scores I lost interest and couldn’t understand what she was saying.  As she rambled on about “math facts” and “common core” I blacked out and started to think about what I would make for dinner.  When the endless ramblings wouldn’t end, I cut her short and said, “Let’s pretend it’s the 1980′s.  Would he be in the smart class or not?”

She stared back at me blankly and didn’t even smile.  I then realized she probably doesn’t even know about the 1980′s.  She was probably born in 1990!!!

She showed me some test scores that indicated that he was reading and drawing groups of bananas doing math at an above average level.  This was the most information I got out of a teacher in years!!

Sam’s was the usual meeting about how wonderful and amazing he his.  When I mentioned that he gets extremely frustrated with the common core math problems, she wasn’t surprised.

“Well do you write out the answers for him?” she asked.

“NO! I would never!” I defended myself from this horrific accusation.

“Okay, well you can if you would like,” she answered sweetly, ” a lot of parents do that part of the homework for their kids.”

“Well, not this one!” I exclaimed. “I already completed the first grade, this is not my problem!” I exclaimed defiantly.

“Okay,” she answered calmly.  “But did Sam ever ask you to do it for him?”

“Um no – because he knows better.  He knows that I would laugh in his face.”

“Ok…..well if you ever change your mind…” she drifted off.

WHAT??!!

Now the teachers are telling us to do the kids common core homework because it is too hard?!!

The teacher is telling me that many parents are actually writing out the homework answers when their kids are perfectly capable of writing!!

Ashton

I was pretty sure at this point – this guy was watching from the hallway….

 

 

Meanwhile, on top of all of this achievement we have started the dreaded swimming lesson season.  I have told stories in the past about how furious I become during these lessons.  How my children flail about year after year, excuse themselves from their swimming lessons to go poop and how they never seem to progress despite years of lessons.

As a result, when we began lessons a couple months ago they were placed at the same level that they have been for years, while other children have swum and gone.

On the first day, Michael and Sam hopped in the water waiting for their class to begin.  The instructor asked where my children were.

“They are right there in the pool waiting for their “clownfish toddler swim program”….why?”

burtreynolds2

 

The teachers were even visibly shocked this session as it was noticably absurd to have thirty five year olds in such a low level swim class. Michael especially towered over the other children.

I warned him that he better not go to the bathroom once and that he better advance this year or there would be hell to pay.

Like the years before spent behind the glass watching my pathetic swimmers….I was disgusted.  Watching my huge children flail about in the water with 5 year olds was painful.

When I saw Michael actually carrying one of his fellow swimmers I had enough.....

When I saw Michael actually carrying one of his fellow swimmers I had enough…..

 

I stormed into talk to the instructor after the lesson was over.

“Um – can he advance to the next level? He’s like 45 years old – and it seems absurd…” I said briskly.

“Yes – we definitely want to work with him so he can move forward,” the instructor said kindly.  “Now maybe have you considered when this program is over – taking lessons at the School of Swimming or the YMCA?” she said carefully because she clearly thought she was dealing with an idiot.

“Yes!” I said cheerfully.  “We have participated in both of those programs as well as two others, swimming lessons for three years at the beach and your program for three seasons!!”

My tone changed then, “I am into these two for thousands of dollars in swimming lessons,” I said pointing to my two children that were wrapped up in their towels laughing and fooling around, oblivious about what losers they were.

“I am NOT signing up for any other programs. I am signed up here and you will teach him to swim!” I shrieked.

Last week in the midst of waiting to find out if Michael was an idiot at his conference and if he made the baseball team – the swimming teacher confirmed that he in fact has made progress and will likely pass onto the next level of swimming this week!!

It is a swimming miracle sent from Jesus.

In the end of all of this stress, it turns out that Michael is smart, can swim and made the baseball team.

I don’t know how those Tiger moms do it….I am just not cut out for all of this over-achievement.

 

I MET A FEW WOMEN THIS WEEK THAT RANDOMLY KNEW ABOUT MY SECRET IDENTITY AND ASKED IF I REALLY SWORE IN FRONT OF MY KIDS AND THE ANSWER IS YES!!! CAN’T I HAVE ONE PLEASURE IN LIFE? BUT I DID CHALLENGE MYSELF TO A BLOG POST MINUS ANY CURSING AND A NOD TO JESUS…I WILL BE BACK TO MY OLD SELF NEXT WEEK….NOT TO WORRY.

PLEASE CLICK THE BANNER BELOW TO KEEP ME IN THE RUNNING AS AMERICA’S FUNNIEST MOTHER!! XO, LADY GOO GOO GAGA

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March Madness in Goopville


A while back I asked my readers what to call this homicidal maniac town I live in.  It is a town filled with mothers that are gluten free and wear Lululemon clothes all day for no reason and park in handicapped parking spots to give their children their skiis.  Someone suggested “Goopville” referencing the ramblings of lunatic, Gwenyth Paltrow on her insane blog GOOP….I thought that was perfection.  My town’s new name is Goopville.

Michael has a fall birthday.

Because I chose to send him to kindergarten at age 4 he is often the youngest in his class and on teams.  When I was weighing my decision to send him I thought it would be ok for him to compete with 5-year-olds.  What I hadn’t anticipated was that he would be competing with many 6 year-olds, since most mothers these days hold back their children as long as possible.  This is commonly known as “red-shirting your kindergartener.”

One can always spot these “red-shirters” because they are usually 6 feet tall and the boys have facial hair and the girls have full double “D’s” and their period in the third grade.

This is typical picture from Michael's class...see if you can find the "red-shirter."

This is typical picture from Michael’s class…see if you can find the “red-shirter.”

Michael plays in the YMCA basketball league for 7 and 8 year-olds.  The league relies on parent volunteers as coaches.  While it is generous of anyone to dedicate their time and energy to being a coach, you can imagine how things could get dicey with the wrong candidates.

Last week at Michael’s basketball game there was one of these monstrous red-shirters on the other team.  At first we thought he must be someone’s older brother while the team was warming up but then he took off his sweatshirt to reveal his team shirt and we were horrified.

The kid was at least ten years old.  His head was bigger than mine and Mr. Gaga’s put together and he had a moustache and for some reason not related to his age at all, he had a combover.

Also he may or may not have had a nail in his head...not sure

Also he may or may not have had a nail in his head…not sure

When the game started it was immediately clear that the kid was a nightmare.  He was pushing and shoving all the kids.  At one point, him and Michael both went for the ball and they started wrestling on the floor.  Michael finally got the ball.

“Nail-head’s” coach started walking on the court.  The ref explained to him that he could not be on the court and sent him back to his corner.

After that, “nail-head’s” behavior became more aggressive.

He continued the pushing and shoving and antagonistic behaviors typical of an angry 50 year-old.

guns-dont-kill-happy-gilmore-costume-shirt-screengrab-2

And then…

for no reason relative to the game of basketball…..he punched Michael in the stomach.

The referee had enough finally.

He threw him out of the game.

Like any mentally unstable “red-shirter”…he went to the corner of the gym and cried like a little bitch.

All was right with the world.

For all of two minutes.

Then all of a sudden – he was back in the game.

Why was he back on the court? How could this be??

Oh – because the coach told him to go back in!!!

“Nail-head” was sad- so of course it was time for him to go back in to the game!! Don’t all NBA coaches operate this way?

Even the ref was too nervous to say anything...

Even the ref was too nervous to say anything…

So play resumed.

After a couple of minutes a boy on Michael’s team was wrestling with the “red-shirter” for the ball and accidentally elbowed him in the face.

This time – all of the parents from the other team and the coach came running onto the court and a mob scene ensued.

georgetown-china-fight

The president of the YMCA happened to be there that day and noticed that something had gone horribly wrong on the court.

The other team’s parents and coaches were irate that someone had injured “nail-head” by accident!!!

Our team’s coach was screaming at the other team’s coach and a bunch of parents were there yelling at the ref and both coaches.

The YMCA President came running over to calm the masses and made everyone sit down in the bleachers.  He spoke to everyone about sportsmanship and told all the parents that the games were for the kids and that the basketball league is about children not adults.  He threatened to cancel the game unless everyone could agree to stay seated and watch and enjoy the game.

It's sad when grown-ass people have to listen to some guy talk about sportsmanship....

It’s sad when grown-ass people have to listen to some guy talk about sportsmanship….

The scolded parents agreed to stay still while the game ended.

And of course – just in case you were thinking there was hope for humanity at the end of the game when it was time to line up and shake hands – “Nail Head” punched everyone’s hand!!

Now Mr Gaga wanted me to mention that I actually wasn’t at the game (as usual) and that he gave me the first-hand account of what happened, because he just knew it was blog-worthy.

And even though I tell these types of cautionary tales week after week – I am amazed every time when I notice children acting like barbarians.  Every time parents act like stupid fucking morons I am shocked.

I will just never stop being shocked by modern-day parents’ bad behaviors.  The fact that parents today would sit by and watch their slow adult  3rd grader be violent and inappropriate and say nothing is disturbing on many levels.

What will happen to athletes if they are allowed to act like savage beasts and nobody ever puts them in their place?

Well ask Lance….

lance

Or Oscar…

oscarp

or this guy….

oj

or Mike….

tyson

Just sayin….

This won’t end well for all those “nail-heads” out there.

I DON’T KNOW WHEN PARENTS WILL STOP ACTING LIKE HUGE DOUCHEBAGS…BUT UNTIL THEN I WILL BE BUSY BRINGING YOU ALL OF THE LIVE REPORTING…PLEASE CLICK THE BANNER BELOW TO BE SURE THAT I REMAIN IN THE RUNNING FOR THE FUNNIEST MOM IN AMERICA!!!

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News that I already knew…because I’m a genius


I remember my parents watching the evening news and I had no clue what Dan Rather was talking about.  The news was filled with news about foreign countries, wars, and legitimate domestic concerns.

At some point in recent years there’s very little separating TMZ from the Nightly News and its a bit disconcerting.  (Not that I’m complaining because I would pick TMZ over real news any day.)  But still!!!

This week there were a few news items that got top billing that just simply should not be news.

#1 – It’s cold outside.

Really?? History has proven and any Farmer’s Almanac will continue to show that in the “winter” months it gets all “wintery” and cold air blows around and makes the air feel cold.  And then people go out into the cold air and they exclaim “It’s so cold!”

Every. day.

Actually what I hear most often is  “I can’t believe how cold it is!!”

Why? Why can’t you believe it? WE LIVE IN NEW ENGLAND!! NOT BRAZIL OR ANY PLACE THAT WOULD MAKE YOU NOT BELIEVE IN COLD WEATHER!

When will this stop being news?

Every news report I heard this week prefaced the weather info with “It’s not actually a “Polar Vortex” but it sure feels like it!! It’s very, very cold!!”

No shit.

ecards

#2 – Justin Beiber makes bad choices:

Why the hell do we build people up and scream their name and go crazy for them and then the minute they make a mistake we tear them to shreds?

He’s a kid whose mother sold him down the YouTube River.  He’s had too much fame and money too soon in life and he’s bound to make some bad choices given the lack of parenting and guidance.

When I was a little bit younger than him I actually dated a guy that had a canary yellow Trans AM that was so loud and sparkled so bright yellow.  I thought I was the coolest guidette ever in that car.  If someone offered me a yellow Lamborghini for free you bet your freaking ass I would have hopped in that car so fast and floored it.

Who of you can honestly say that you wouldn’t do the same??

A fucking loser who wishes he was Justin Beiber instead of a DJ in HARTFORD CT,  announced on the radio it was National “Dislike Justin Beiber on Facebook” day.  Really??

I am so not down with making ourselves feel better by tearing down young heart-throbs.

I’m a Belieber.

You should be too.

#3 – Soda is bad.

You know I have been shocked by America’s disregard for healthy beverage choices in Disney World.  But in general I just cannot believe that people down “diet brown liquids” with no regard for their health and safety.

photo

This is not news.

It’s upsetting to me that Americans find this information to be late-breaking news.

Attention fat Americans: drinking diet soda is a death wish!!!!

#4 -Sesame Street characters are not making healthy choices:

This was all over the news this week – the Sesame Street characters are going to have to make better choices.

Somebody decided that it was the Sesame Street characters who were making our American children fat and stupid.

So while everyone was focusing their energies on how inappropriate Spongebob is, and how annoying Caillou is - I guess we forgot to take a closer look at our pals on the old Sesame Street.

Here we have Oscar the Grouch.  He is perpetually rude to people, generally unpleasant, eats actual garbage and lives in a garbage can.

Nobody minds this filthy asshole - but Spongebob who is nice and lives in an immaculate delightful pineapple - gets a bad rap.

Nobody minds this filthy motherfucker – but Spongebob who is nice and lives in an immaculate delightful pineapple – gets a bad rap.

Then we have Ernie and Bert who basically are the most lethargic gay people who could ever meet.  They lie around watching birds or playing chess all day, and then spend the rest of the day chatting in bed. They literally don’t do any work or anything productive…..ever.

No wonder Ernie is a little hefty, (Bert must be genetically blessed.)

Also, it would be nice if someone would tell this lazy piece of shit that horizontal stripes are not his friend.

Here Ernie spends the day pretending that he cannot hear Bert speaking because he stuck a piece of fruit in his ear.  This is not a good lesson for children.

Here Ernie spends the day pretending that he cannot hear Bert speaking because he stuck a piece of fruit in his ear. This is clearly not a good lesson for children.

And in a press release Sesame Street stated that in the new programming focused on modeling healthy behaviors for children Bert and Ernie jump rope and munch apples and carrots, and Cookie Monster has his namesake treat once a week, not every day.”

Oh you mean Cookie Monster is going to eat one cookie a week?? OK well that’s called a “Blue guy that eats a cookie once a week” – not a “Cookie Monster” by any stretch.

Maybe he can be called a “Recovering Cookie Addict Guy” or “The Monster formally known as Cookie.”

How did this asshole get away with this compulsive vile behavior for so long in the first place?  To add insult to injury he talks in ebonics and says things like "ME LOVE COOKIES."

How did this asshole get away with this compulsive vile behavior for so long in the first place? To add insult to injury he talks in ebonics and says things like “ME LOVE COOKIES.”

I will admit – even I am surprised that it took us this long to complain about the bad Sesame behaviors.  I think that we were snowed by how cute Elmo is that we overlooked some of these very unhealthy characters.

Thank God, the Sesame people realized the error of their ways.

In closing – I am hoping for some news next week that actually is surprising and news-worthy.

Don’t tell me the winter is cold or that Cookie Monster is a fat asshole.

These are not news items.

It’s common knowledge.

WAKE UP AMERICA!!!

SODA IS BAD AND EVIL!! CLICK THE BANNER BELOW TO VOTE FOR ME AS THE FUNNIEST MOM IN AMERICA!! XO, lady goo goo gaga

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Putting the cart before the rest of us….


Well, well, well….

Remember when I posted the following, (after I went to Disney World) and many of you blasted me with hate emails????

Well, I hate to say it, but by the size of the humans that were walking around, zipping around on motorized carts, in Disney World, …. Everywhere we went we were met with hoards of overweight people with Mickey Mouse ears on and fanny packs strapped onto their motorized carts.

This is a very common scene...tremendously large humans with Mickey Mouse ears on with huge sodas....
This is a very common scene…tremendously large humans with Mickey Mouse ears on with huge sodas….These people only left their carts so they could get a good seat for the parade.

“I’m sorry did I miss the episode of the Mickey Mouse Club when Mickey announced he loved fat people and soda?” I asked Mr. Gaga. “I don’t get it.” I said to Mr. Gaga as we were making our way through the crowds of obese people.

“Well they are fat because they drink soda and the fact that they are so fat and lazy that they can’t walk doesn’t help,” he pointed out. I looked around and realized at the moment that about half of the people in the park were driving carts and half were walking. “Oh my God!” I exclaimed, “I thought everyone was injured!” Mr. Gaga stared at me like I was an idiot.

When I looked a little closer I realized nobody even had a band-aid on, let alone anything that indicated a real injury!!
When I looked a little closer I realized nobody even had a band-aid on, let alone anything that indicated a real injury!!

After a few days in the Magic Kingdom we made our way to Epcot Center. “Hey did you notice there aren’t any motorized carts here?” Mr. Gaga pointed out. “Oh yeah…I wonder why?” I said as I looked over the map of the Epcot. “Oh!! I bet we will see them in “America!”

After enjoying music, culture and food in Japan, France, Italy and Mexico I was afraid to see what “America” had to offer.

“It’s just going to be big enormous people laying on couches everywhere eating McDonalds and drinking huge sodas.” I said to Mr. Gaga as we made our way.

“Or enormous children playing video games,” Mr. Gaga offered.

We were pleasantly surprised that neither of those features were the focus of the America showcase in Epcot.

Thank God….it would be totally embarrassing if the world found out the truth about us.

It’s best to keep this little soda problem a secret between you, me, Mickey Mouse and Mayor Bloomberg.

Well it looks like even OLD MICKEY MOUSE HIMSELF recognized that these motorized carters were imposters!!

Pretending that they can’t walk so they can zip to the front of every line!!!!!

The jig is up motorized cart people.

The jig is up.

Disney World issued a statement this week that they would modify the rules that allowed everyone who is in a motorized cart to just zip in front of the 500 people who have waited in the hot sweaty lines for 2 hours.

While it is important to allow special needs children to get in front of the line – because clearly it is a priority for them – it is NOT a priority for people who abuse the system.

Funny enough – we chose this week to go to the BIG E - which is basically a the ultimate in New England fairs.  It’s much dirtier than Disney, and much less rides and much trashier food.

Also – there’s no mouse – so they make do with whatever white trash mascot they can think of.  Here – the kids begged me to play a game where they would win – what appears to be a banana that is a Rastafarian??

banana

Also – this fair is pretty big – but not nearly as big as Disney, so there aren’t as many motorized carts.

But I did take some time to actually observe the motorized carters when I saw them.

I noticed one couple had filled the basket in front of their cart with cigarettes, lighters and fried doughs.

The irony was not lost on me.

The main point of this fair is to eat ungodly things that no human should ever eat -

I kicked it off with fried pickles….

pickle

Remember when I blogged about Mr. Gaga’s Irish tendencies??

Well Mr. Gaga took it one step further by ordering this…..

balls

This is called “fried shephard’s pie” …smothered with gravy….
Yes. It’s true.

So then it was time to feed the kids.

Usual requests include burgers and pizza.

“I want one of those.” Michael said pointing to a food stand.

“Are you sure? You have never had one…..you might not like it.”

“I want one.” he said positively.

“Ok.” I answered hesitantly.

It was my first time too and it was fucking delicious.

dog

While we were on a roll with the white trash foods – I took a gamble and decided we should try one of the Big E specialties.

It’s called the Craz-E burger.

If you guessed that this was a bacon cheeseburger placed gently in between two glazed doughnuts, then you would be correct....

If you guessed that this was a bacon cheeseburger placed gently in between two glazed doughnuts, then you would be correct….

I have to say – it was pretty good!!

Now does anyone know where I can buy a motorized cart??

SORRY EVERYONE!!  BUT FAIR IS FAIR!! PLEASE CLICK THE BANNER BELOW SO I CAN BE THE NUMBER ONE FUNNIEST MOM IN AMERICA!!!

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Back to School Anxiety


I might be the only mother in America to say this – but I do not want school to start.
As much as I complain about the kids, they aren’t that bad really.

I mean isn’t China already way ahead of us….is it really necessary to go back to school in August??

I am fairly certain that Americans aren’t going to suddenly plunge ahead in the industrialized world simply because we go back to school before Labor Day.

All that happens is that I get a little paler earlier in the season than necessary.

I actually dread the kids going back to school.

It’s so much more than them actually not being home all day.
I don’t want to wake up early and run around like a maniac signing permission slips, searching for library books and packing snacks.

I don’t want to make sure that the children are wearing matching outfits.
I don’t want to make sure that their teeth are brushed and that their hair is combed so that they don’t look like meth addicts.
I don’t want to spend my first moments every morning surrounded by adult and child assholes at the bus stop.
I don’t want to get an email from the PTO five times a day asking me for money in a variety of different ways.
I don’t want to plan playdates.
I don’t want to help the kids with their homework. By the way… why is this my problem? I am sure the Chinese mothers aren’t doing homework.

But the number one reason why I am dreading going back to school is that I do not want to pack lunches everyday.
It seems like just yesterday it was the afternoon of the last day of school. I took both kids lunch boxes and announced, “If I pack one more fucking lunch I am going to slit my throat,” and kicked them down the stairs into the basement.
Well here we are…in two weeks I will be in the basement dusting them off and bringing them back upstairs.

I know you might be thinking….what’s the big deal?
Well let me break it down for you.

First of all, gone are the days when you could just throw some bologna in between some Wonder bread, slap an apple on top of it so it’s flat and mushy by lunchtime and send the kid on his way.

I distinctly remember two things about lunch when I was in elementary school.

I remember there were 2 girls who brought liverwurst sandwiches. I did not want to sit next to them because it smelled and made me want to throw up and also I felt bad for them, because I figured their life must be pretty bad if their mother sent them to school with that shit.

I also remember when a boy named Andrew choked on a hot dog and the gym teacher had to give him the Heimlich maneuver to save his life and the hot dog came up with an ocean of vomit and chocolate milk.

I never ate a hot dog again after that for a good 20 years.

Nowadays there is quite a bit to consider.

There are a lot of issues to deal with when considering lunchtime.
There’s the whole childhood obesity issue, there’s the cavity issue, there’s the cancer problem, the high fructose corn syrup problem, and the food allergy problem.

Let’s start with food allergy problem.

My kids do not have food allergies but have been basically told everywhere from the gym to the playground since they were born that peanuts are not allowed. As a result, my children, who eat peanut butter and fluff like it’s their job during the summer – will not take peanut butter items to school.

Other kids (who also do not have a peanut allergy and are sitting at a table free of food allergies) make fun of them and won’t sit with them if they have peanut butter in their lunch!!!!
YES!
PEANUT BUTTER IS THE NEW LIVERWURST!

Personally I think it's a bit much but in their cafeteria this sign is actually hanging up and it says in big bold letters across it, "Fuck this guy."

Personally I think it’s a bit much but in their cafeteria this sign is actually hanging up and it says in big bold letters across it, “Fuck this guy.”

Can you believe this? So out goes what was once a major staple of American lunch for about 5000 years.

Ok so then there’s the whole matter of obesity and cavities.
Remember how children used to be allowed to eat fruit roll ups, raisins, Capri Suns and fruit snacks?
That’s not allowed.  Now that elementary school children in America are the size of sumo wrestlers, only the most horrible parents that can’t read would send such items into school.

If you go to the dentist with your children you will find that these foods will basically cause the children’s teeth to rot out of their heads.

Of course it does become confusing when the dreaded peanut is on the good side.....

Of course it does become confusing when the dreaded peanut is on the good side…..

So you think “Ok, well they can have some sort of sandwich and water.”

Well there’s the matter of the nitrates in the cold cuts. Remember when a cold cut sandwich was a healthy option? Remember when we all ate bologna sandwiches our whole life?

Yeah – that’s what would now be referred to as a “nitrate surprise.”
If it was up to Sam he would have a pepperoni sandwich every single day. I have now spent the whole summer switching up different cold cuts and mixing them in with one piece of pepperoni to cut down on the red dye and carcinogens. He will eat these sandwiches if I call them “Italian combos.”

I try to get him to take other things. Sometimes he will eat cold pizza and one time Mr. Gaga sent him with a sausage and pepper sandwich.

One time when Sam was in kindergarten I sent in a grilled cheese wrapped up in foil so it would still be warm by the time he ate it.
When he got home he said that one of his friends (whose mother basically lives at the school volunteering and involving herself in everyone’s lives) looked at his sandwich and said “What kind of mother would send in a grilled cheese sandwich?”
Can you believe this bullshit?

I said “Oh! Why don’t you tell him a mother that has very limited to time to spend making lunch because she has better things to do with her life…unlike your mother, you douchebag.”
But apparently he was only 5 and had a hard time remembering all the words in that speech even though we went over it several times. He never took a grilled cheese sandwich again.
Then there’s Michael who will not eat one cold cut ever.
He flat out refuses.
He will only eat a bagel with cream cheese or Italian wedding soup.
I loyally switch back and forth between the two lunch items ALL YEAR LONG.

Sometimes I think about the two girls who ate liverwurst and worry for him.
“Does anyone every wonder why you are eating Italian wedding soup everyday?” I ask.
“Nope.”
“Do you think people think you are weird?” I ask.
“I don’t care.” he answers simply.
And he really doesn’t.
Which leads me to the final point about lunches.

Children really don’t have any shame anymore.

If my mother put one toe into my cafeteria when I was young, I first would pretend I didn’t know who she was.  If that didn’t work I would throw up or faint.

Not today’s children…They beg and plead for their mother’s to join them for lunch. Upon joining the children, parents sit at the “parent and child” lunch table and enjoy special lunchtime bonding.

I only agree to this for the children’s birthdays and am shocked to find every time I show up the parents tables are bumpin.

Is this really what our world has come to?

Doesn’t anyone have stuff to do anymore??

Would any mother before the year 2000 actually stop what they were doing to come eat lunch with their kid?

GO HOME LOSERS!!!!

GO HOME LOSERS!!!!

Please God let these last few days of summer be sunny and wonderful and please let the transition back to school be easier than expected….

I am going to sleep now to dream of a world where children eat peanut butter and jelly and don’t want to eat lunch with their mothers……

ONE GOOD THING ABOUT SCHOOL IS THAT IT GIVES ME LOTS OF MATERIAL….IN THE MEANTIME PLEASE CLICK ON THE BANNER BELOW!!

XO, LADYGOOGOOGAGA

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Crying…America’s favorite past-time


All around America little children were crying this weekend, shitting their pants, and refusing to follow rules.

Was it the first day of preschool or lots of really bad playdates?

No.

It was “Opening Day” of baseball of course!!!

This is the start of baseball season.  A sport that is beloved by so many adults in the US that they sign their children up and drag them to a field weekly so that they can display bad behavior dressed up like Derek Jeter.

Mr. Gaga is a coach for Sam’s team of kindergarteners.

Most of them don’t know why they are there.

Most of them don’t listen.

Most of them are not capable of hitting or catching or running.

Saturday the little boy who was playing first base spent the entire game playing in the dirt around the base.

Mr. Gaga told him to stop.

The next time he looked the kid was back down on all fours rubbing dirt all over first base.

Mr. Gaga told him to get up.

The next batter came up to the plate, Mr. Gaga looked and the kid was making a sandcastle on the base.

He told him to stop making sandcastles.

The next time he looked…this is what he saw on first base.

At this point he just gave up....

At this point he just gave up….

When he looked over to see if the kid’s parents might mind that he was pretending to be at a beach instead of playing baseball he realized quickly there was no hope.

parents-cheering-at-grad

So then the next batter was up and Mr. Gaga didn’t bother with the first base kid.

The kid on the opposite team hit the ball and ran to first base.

This was major.

This kid must understand the game of baseball!

He must be decent at hitting AND running in the right direction!!

When he got to first base he stood on the base with pride.

Then he pissed his pants.

He stood there for a bit and then went to cry to his mother, but that part is not important.

What happened next was fascinating.

When the next batter got up and Mr. Gaga looked over at “sandcastle boy” he had mixed the urine puddle with the dirt to create a muddy texture perfect for sandcastle building.

Mr. Gaga didn’t bother trying to stop him and his parents were probably too busy playing Angry Birds to notice.

Finally Mr. Gaga did the right thing!!

He is WAY too nice to these fat losers little baseball players and their asshole parents    moms and dads.

Everyone in town should count their blessings that it is MR. and not MRS. Gaga that is the coach of this team of urine lovers.

Even the older kids still have some issues.

On Michael’s team of 8 YEAR OLD BOYS, every time one of the boys had to go on the field….HIS MOTHER HELD HIS HAND AND PHYSICALLY BROUGHT HIM OUT.

And there is still an awful lot of crying in baseball.  There was crying because they didn’t want to play, crying because they were out, crying because they didn’t hit the ball, crying because they pissed their pants…..

What I would pay to have this guy come and scream at all the kids....

What I would pay to have this guy come and scream at all the kids….

And one last perk to all of this of course……Just like last season.

It’s a tie.

Every game.

Because…….

“If you had fun….you won.”

Can you believe this horse shit?

What will happen when all these little pissy pants kids have to face the world??

God forbid when they ever lose…they are in for a real shock.

Because in real life when you spend your entire lesson game rolling around in dirt and piss….

Well…..you get some sort of bacterial infection and you lose.

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Mayor Bloomberg would hate Disney World


I have a great reason for not blogging last week. I was collecting material for my blog, enjoying a wonderful vacation to Disney World with my family.
There’s just so much to talk about it is hard to pin it all down into one post. Today I am going to discuss our “meal plan” that was part of our vacation package. (You know I love to talk about food.)
The plan we had allowed us to each have one snack, one full service meal, and one “quick-service” meal per day.   Our first day we got off the plane and went straight to the park, arriving into Disney around 11 AM. After a couple of hours we were hungry so we decided to stop and utilize a “quick service” meal. This had been described to us as something that can be ordered at a counter, such as a hot dog or sandwich.

We found a place that looked pretty good and I ordered hot dogs for the kids and sandwiches for Mr. Gaga and myself.

I was informed by the girl taking the order that the meals would all come with fries and drinks.
“Great!” I said to the girl as she grabbed a tray and I started to swipe my card.
“Wait, what desserts would you like?” she asked.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“You all get desserts…we have cheesecake, chocolate mousse cake or crème brulee.”
I stared blankly.

Who the hell eats crème brulee in the middle of the day in sunny 85 degree weather?
“What?” I asked, stalling for time as a crowd formed behind me. She repeated the choices, I made a decision finally, sensing the people in the line behind me were losing patience.
Mr. Gaga had taken the tray by then and had filled everyone’s drinks. I headed back to the table with enough food to feed an army. Mr. Gaga was grabbing condiments and napkins and I looked up to see Michael heading towards me with a tray of the largest beverages I have ever seen.

The tray was leaning dangerously towards the ground. The weight of the insanely large drinks was too much for his little arms.
Before I could help him the tray tipped and a huge tidal wave of diet coke came towards me and Sam.

We screamed. “Help me Mama!” cried Sam as the soda tsunami came rushing towards him. I couldn’t save him, and before we knew it we were both drenched with soda.

The soda was so large that it exploded and one of the rides had to be shut down for the day....

The soda was so large that when it spilled one of the rides had to be shut down for the rest of the day….

We stared at Michael who stood holding the empty tray limply. Tears threatened to spill out of his eyes.
“It’s ok Michael, it was an accident,” I said as I started to wipe up the table. Mr. Gaga came strolling over at this point. “It’s your father’s fault for making you carry 50 gallons of soda alone.” I said with disgust while I wrung out my shirt.
“I told him to wait for me!” Mr. Gaga protested.
“Well who the fuck drinks this much soda in the first place?” I demanded pointing to the enormous cups that had fallen off the tray.
“It’s the size that comes with the lunch!” he said defensively.
That’s the size that comes with the lunch? So every meal we order comes with a beverage filled with high fructose corn syrup as big as my house?
Call me Mayor Bloomberg but I found this highly problematic.

We all sat down and started eating.

“You talk about me getting big sodas…why did you buy 4 chocolate cakes?” Mr. Gaga asked me with disgust.

I looked at all of the food and drinks.  “They made me.” I answered helplessly.
That night we checked into the hotel and upon check in they handed us 4 huge Mickey Mouse mugs.

imagesCA6E6ZQE
“What are these for?” I asked.
“Oh they are refillable! You can fill them up all day and night for free throughout your stay at the hotel!”
“How many fucking beverages does a human being need around here?” I asked Mr. Gaga as I tossed the cups into a bag in our room.

The next morning as we were in line for our shuttle we noticed everyone was drinking coffee out of their refillable mugs. That was a good idea. Later in the afternoon, I filled mine with ice coffee by the pool.

Oh and by the way - I should have known we were in trouble when this is LITERALLY what one of the pools at our hotel looked like.....

Oh and by the way – I should have known we were in trouble when this is LITERALLY what one of the pools at our hotel looked like…..

Mr. Gaga came strolling over with the kids all drinking out of their enormous mugs. The kids had root beer and he had yet another enormous diet coke.
“Why do you keep drinking so much diet coke?” I demanded. “Your committing suicide….”
He shrugged, “I don’t want to drink anything with sugar,” he said as he guzzled it down.
“You are like all the rest of these soda-guzzling Americans, do you know that there’s no sugar but there’s like battery acid and tar remover in there? You are going to die! You can’t drink any more diet coke the rest of the vacation!” I pleaded.
The next day I ordered a club soda with my meal.
“We don’t offer club soda,” the waitress answered. “You can buy a bottled water for 3 bucks.”
This is a common trend. If you don’t choose to drink an Atlantic Ocean size drink of soda, then you are penalized. I accepted my fate and paid for water.
Mind you I have told you all many times I am a fat person with baby weight that I still haven’t lost since I had my six-year-old son….however I try to make somewhat sane decisions when I am consuming food and beverages. Drinking soda morning, noon and night somehow seems like insane behavior to me.

By the end of the trip I gave up and just sat on my bed and drank soda all night like it was my job....

By the end of the trip I gave up and just sat on my bed and drank soda all night like it was my job….

I come from a town where if you don’t buy everything from Whole Foods then you are a moron. People here would lump high fructose corn syrup into the same categories they would put guns and crystal meth. To be surrounded by crowds of people who just down soda with reckless abandon is startling.
Was this an accurate picture of America. Do Americans really just guzzle soda all day by the gallon?
Well, I hate to say it, but by the size of the humans that were walking around, zipping around on motorized carts, in Disney World, then yes….yes they do.
Everywhere we went we were met with hoards of overweight people with Mickey Mouse ears on and fanny packs strapped onto their motorized carts.

This is a very common scene...tremendously large humans with Mickey Mouse ears on with huge sodas....

This is a very common scene…tremendously large humans with Mickey Mouse ears on with huge sodas….These people only left their carts so they could get a good seat for the parade.

“I’m sorry did I miss the episode of the Mickey Mouse Club when Mickey announced he loved fat people and soda?” I asked Mr. Gaga. “I don’t get it.” I said to Mr. Gaga as we were making our way through the crowds of obese people.
“Well they are fat because they drink soda and the fact that they are so fat and lazy that they can’t walk doesn’t help,” he pointed out.
I looked around and realized at the moment that about half of the people in the park were driving carts and half were walking.
“Oh my God!” I exclaimed, “I thought everyone was injured!”
Mr. Gaga stared at me like I was an idiot.

When I looked a little closer I realized nobody even had a band-aid on, let alone anything that indicated a real injury!!

When I looked a little closer I realized nobody even had a band-aid on, let alone anything that indicated a real injury!!

After a few days in the Magic Kingdom we made our way to Epcot Center.
“Hey did you notice there aren’t any motorized carts here?” Mr. Gaga pointed out.
“Oh yeah…I wonder why?” I said as I looked over the map of the Epcot. “Oh!! I bet we will see them in “America!”

After enjoying music, culture and food in Japan, France, Italy and Mexico I was afraid to see what “America” had to offer.

“It’s just going to be big enormous people laying on couches everywhere eating McDonalds and drinking huge sodas.” I said to Mr. Gaga as we made our way.

“Or enormous children playing video games,” Mr. Gaga offered.

We were pleasantly surprised that neither of those features were the focus of the America showcase in Epcot.

Thank God….it would be totally embarrassing if the world found out the truth about us.

It’s best to keep this little soda problem a secret between you, me, Mickey Mouse and Mayor Bloomberg.

There’s plenty more to discuss about Disney World and America….stay tuned in my next post when I discuss more disturbing human behaviors that I witnessed on my trip!

SINCE I INCLUDE MYSELF IN THE FAT CATEGORY YOU CANNOT GET MAD AT ME FOR MAKING FUN OF ALL THE MOTORIZED CART RIDERS IN DISNEY!!!  PLEASE CLICK THE BANNER BELOW!!!

XO, LADY GOO GOO GAGA

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Linking to MAMA KAT’S WRITING WORKSHOP

 

What I Learned 2012


As I looked back over my blog entries for 2012 I realized that it has been a long and interesting year.

I have learned a lot about myself and more importantly about all of you and what you find interesting and what you can relate to.

My most-read post of the year was my letter, “Dear Beyonce” which was posted after she rented an entire floor of a hospital in New York City to give birth to her child.

I actually received a lot of hate comments for that one, as well as praise.  If you review the comments you will notice some insane Beyonce lovers chimed in…..

Was this post so popular because those of us who are mothers like to warn new moms what to expect?

Or is it sadly that we have become a celebrity-obsessed culture that reads US Weekly as regularly and whole-heartedly as generations before us would read Time and Newsweek?  That we are just so obsessed with every minute detail of the lives of the rich and famous that we tune in to read about anything diva-related?

Sadly, as an avid US Weekly reader, I think it’s the latter.

In the beginning of last year, I was grappling with how to work and maintain my household, my sanity and not let looks go completely down the toilet.

This is me making a quick run to the grocery store after getting home late from work.........

This is me making a quick run to the grocery store after getting home late from work………with blatant disregard for my moustache and camel-toe…..

In the spring, I hadn’t much headway in the looks department, but I had at least stopped working as much so I had time to sleep.  I shared how I still am trying to catch up on sleep I lost when I was breastfeeding.

I also, shared a tale of how I was sleeping so soundly that I didn’t wake up in time to save my poor brother from seeing my boob hanging out of my shirt one morning.

I have mentioned before how my boobs have really become deformed since the children destroyed my body from head to toe….my poor, poor brother.

I am pretty sure this is what my brother saw – except I have a lighter skin-tone and I wasn’t holding that stick…..Also – my wife beater was from the Old Navy, not her fancy cow one….

I am pretty sure this is what my brother saw – except I have a lighter skin-tone and I wasn’t holding that stick…..Also – my wife beater was from the Old Navy, not her fancy cow one….

This spring, as 50 Shades of Grey hit the shelves, I learned a lot about trends in America for women.  First, I was shocked to discover that apparently everyone just has oodles of time to sit home and masturbate all day while they fantasize about being handcuffed and beaten.

Who knew?

breakfast bubble

Then, just as I was recovering from this news, I had to find out that women right and left were chowing down on their own placenta.  

As if that wasn’t offensive enough, “ways of feeding American children” reached a new low when Alicia Silverstone was all over the news demonstrating how she chews up food and spits it into her child’s mouth.

This kind of weird parenting could result in children that are complete freaks.

They could end up being total cry babies, that whine and complain about everything….

This was the behavior that basically every child exhibited on my son’s baseball team this summer.

Oh and while the boys roam the fields looking for mushrooms and shit their pants while they are running to the wrong base, their parents could care less.

It was absolutely astonishing. Hopefully next season will be better!

This dad of one of the players, put his IPhone in his pocket for a minute, looked up and realized that his son was in the outfield picking flowers and had shit his pants, so he quickly started got on his phone again......

This dad of one of the players, put his iPhone in his pocket for a minute, looked up and realized that his son was in the outfield picking flowers and had shit his pants, so he quickly started got on his phone again……

After baseball was over, we went on a crazy “vacation” with my in-laws, and then went to the beach for the rest of the summer, which was lovely.

Then we started to get ready for back-to-school, which is when I noticed how offensive the Pottery Barn Kids catalogue was…..

In the classic Pottery Barn style which aims to make us feel badly about our homes, bedding, and lives….the PB Kids version, now aims to make us feel bad about our kids lunches and what we put them in……

Please note that the sandwich has been fashioned into some sort of exotic daisy and a dipping sauce has been made available as part of Blair's very balanced meal....

Please note that the sandwich has been fashioned into some sort of exotic daisy and a dipping sauce has been made available as part of Blair’s very balanced meal….If any kindergartener had any doubt about if Blair’s mother loved her or not…I think it will be quite clear after this lunch is revealed……

In October, we were yet again devastated by a storm.

You would think we would be prepared since the last storm, but we weren’t.

So I had to brave the stores searching for batteries and water.  It wasn’t pretty.

Don't be fooled, under that pillow this lady was hiding 75 packages of D Batteries and 8 flashlights.

Don’t be fooled, under that pillow this lady was hiding 75 packages of D Batteries and 8 flashlights.

We survived with minimal damage, but I hosted my Thanksgiving run and raised money for victims of Storm Sandy in New York.

In December, I have taken a lot of time to reflect on life and the world that we live in after the absolutely heart-breaking school shooting that happened here in Connecticut.

We have a lot to think about and change to make sure that our children can grow up safe and happy and healthy.

But when I had a spare moment during the holidays, I did have time to make fun of people who decorate their vehicles with antlers and noses.

What does this even mean? Your vehicle is a reindeer? Does your car pull a sleigh? Will your car fly on Christmas Eve?? Why are you doing this?? WHY????

What does this even mean? Your vehicle is a reindeer? Does your car pull a sleigh? Will your car fly on Christmas Eve?? Why are you doing this?? WHY????

In closing, it has been a great year for Lady Goo Goo Gaga, and I hope to continue learning and growing and sharing my stories.

Thank you all for reading every week!! And for CLICKING ON THE BANNER BELOW!!!!

Please leave me a comment letting me know what was your favorite post of 2012….BESIDES “DEAR BEYONCE!!!”

Happy New Year!! XO, LADY GOO GOO GAGA

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A small retraction and more tales from the beach….


As a rule, I never really take back anything that I say.

For example, if I say Mr. Gaga is being a jerk at Christmas-time, no matter what he says – I won’t retract.

If I talk about how fat children in America are, and you all email me and message me to say that your children are svelte and Olympian-like, I won’t retract.

Now I have been blessed with a free delivery of Lunch Box Love Notes, which I first noticed (and made fun of) in my Pottery Barn Kids Catalogue.

In case you missed it – these are notes that Pottery Barn sells that you can put into your child’s bento box filled with daisy shaped sandwiches lunch box  – to tell him how awesome he is.

The woman behind this madness was kind enough to contact me to say that she thought my post was funny and she sent me some complimentary notes.

I am NOT RETRACTING…but……..

I might possibly use this note if we were having a rough patch with schoolwork….

That’s actually cute and I have to say that I could totally see my boys reading and laughing at this note:

So – I while I will NOT RETRACT my original sentiments regarding the Pottery Barn Kids Catalogue…I will say …I just might end up using these little notes.  I was thinking if any other mothers were at lunch and saw my kids pulling out these little love notes….they will possibly think I am the best mother in the world!!  Wouldn’t that be perfect??

Well played Judi, inventor of Lunch Box Love notes….well played.

Because of you, my children might inadvertently think I love them during their lunch period.

Good work.

In other news – yesterday was one of those beach days that dreams are made of.  I felt my youth as I hopped on a jet-ski with one of my best friends from growing up at the beach.  We screamed and laughed so hard as we fell off over and over again doing power-slides.  When we made our way off the beach at 5 o’clock we headed up to the house to shower and get ready for the night.  We spent the night back on the beach eating, drinking, dancing with a reggae band and ignoring our children.

Today was a different day.

First of all I woke up and could barely get out of bed.  Apparently, when you are old and weathered, going on a jet-ski for an hour is bad for you.

I had some work to do in the morning and then met my kids on the beach.  From the minute I got there until when we left they whined, complained and cried.  This behavior goes against my “Beach Rules.”

It reminded me of a post from last summer – that I thought I would reblog.  Just in case you think my life is all about reading US Weekly and riding Jet-ski’s ……..think again:

Originally Posted on August 14, 2011 by Lady Googoogaga

This has been a good summer.  Michael and Sam are very independent, they love camp, love swimming lessons, love the beach, and have lots of friends.  They don’t even like to sit with me on the beach and constantly ask to go hang out by the boardwalk – where they “play superheroes” and make friends.

I haven’t had days like these at the beach since I was in my early twenties.  I’ve been reading books and magazines, talking uninterrupted with friends, and sitting on my fat (and growing as we speak) ass more than I have in 6 years.

On top of this luxury, now that I don’t have babies or toddlers to give naps or dinner to – I can essentially stay at the beach as long as I want.  I can pull my chair down to the edge of the water – so the waves are licking at my feet and enjoy my book in the late afternoon, the best part of the day.

The sun burns a little less, the air is crisp, the water is gorgeous and the kids play in the waves while the sun starts its descent.  It was recently such an afternoon, on one of the most gorgeous days of the summer, when I got caught off guard.  I inadvertently was happy – and I should have known that was not possible.

My 5-year-old dropped his hermit crab at the edge of the water and before he could bend down to scoop it up – a wave came in and swept it away, and he went ballistic.  This wasn’t a complete sneak attack – I should have seen the signs:

Clue #1 – Red Cheeks =Perhaps a little too much in the sun department

Clue #2 - A day of whining = Perhaps one too many late nights – and a little tired

Clue #3 – I mentioned that I was momentarily happy right?

He burst into tears.

I peered at him over the top of my book.

“Michael this is nothing to cry about – go by the jetty and find a new one.” I said and went back to reading.

“No!!!” he screamed unreasonably, “I want that one!!!”

I tried to ignore him, but the whining and crying was getting worse. I read the same page 5 times.

“If you don’t stop crying and leave me alone right now – then we are leaving.” I threatened.

“NO!!! I’m not leaving!!” he screamed hysterically in my face.

Now at this point – any good mother with a head on her shoulders would pack up and leave, but not Lady Goo Goo Gaga.  I tried to read again. He wouldn’t shut up.

I gave one more ultimatum – which he failed miserably and I had no choice.  I threw my book down.

“That’s it….we’re leaving.” I started folding my chair.

This is when things really took a frightening turn.  I told him to start picking up his toys, and quickly realized this would never happen.  The devil doesn’t pick up sand toys.

Resigned I went to pick up buckets and towels and every step of the way I was body blocked by my possessed child.

I tried to remain calm.  I called out to poor innocent Sam who was floating on a tube catching some rays.

“Come on – we have to leave now!! Your brother is out of control!” I called out.

He graciously hopped off his tube and said “OK – Mama!”  I looked at him with joy and happiness for a quick moment and then turned back to Godzilla.

A toy boat was thrown and narrowly missed my ear, he took his brother’s tube and slammed it down as hard as he could and it bounced off the sand and rolled away.

I frantically filled up my beach cart and was almost ready to go.   The only thing left on the beach was the huge bucket of crabs leftover from crabbing earlier in the day.  Considering this all started from a lost crab – emptying the bucket was going to be dicey.

While he was momentarily distracted by two strangers, I was able to grab my flip flops and book.

“Dump out the bucket, Michael, it’s time to go.” I said calmly.

“NO!” he screamed hovering over the bucket with snot and tears running down his sunburned cheeks.  I quickly made a move to grab the bucket – at the same time as he did.   I tried to loosen his grip to no avail, and a tug of war ensued.

Anytime I got into position to dump the bucket – he would get in front of it so that I would have to throw a bucket of crabs directly at him (which surprisingly – I wasn’t comfortable with.)

I almost threw a bucket of crabs at him -but decided against it.

At this point – Sam hopped out of the water.

“Sam! Run for your life!!” I yelled while pulling furiously on the bucket, “I’ll meet you at the boardwalk!”

He scampered away – and I ripped the bucket out of Michael’s hands and dumped out mud and crabs like a maniac.

At one point he headed towards the water and mass chaos ensued….

I was dripping with sweat and my back and arms were killing me from the struggle.  Michael collapsed in a heap of tears and I threw the bucket in my cart and turned around to go…..at which point I thought I heard cheering.

Yes.

Witnesses to this debacle were cheering for me.  I looked up and saw a sea of horrified faces.

The beach was silent.

A seagull flew by.

The crabs made their way back to sea.

I stood there sandy and sweaty, staring back at all of the faces judging me.

I was mortified.  I headed up to the boardwalk.  Some kind woman called out – “Don’t worry – we have all been there!!”

Someone else shouted – “You have a lot of patience!!”

I was dying  and on the verge of tears myself.  Michael followed me all the way to the car crying and threatening not to come and of course it didn’t end until long after we were home.

I think I have neglected the schedules and good parenting for long enough – and it’s biting me in the ass.  This little brush with the devil was enough for me.

DON’T FORGET TO CLICK ON THE BANNER BELOW TO VOTE FOR ME FOR THE FUNNIEST AND MOST “PATIENT” MOTHER IN THE WORLD!! XO, LADY GOO GOO GAGA

Linking to Mama Kat’s Writing Workshop

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