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Aging is a Bitch and so is Tina.


I have shared what a negligent mother I am in the mornings.

We usually wake up around 7:45.

The boys get dressed and do their hair, while I stumble around the kitchen, sans bra, throwing shit into their lunchboxes frantically.

They come down eat some cereal and then run back upstairs to brush their teeth. I sip coffee while they frantically come back down the stairs searching for shoes and backpacks.

The bus arrives at the end of our street at 8:05.

You can imagine that this schedule could get tricky.  One false move….

One fight over the hair gel, one missing shoe that cannot be found, one unsigned homework assignment, one discovery that there’s no bread or juiceboxes….and the whole thing falls apart.

Luckily, if we open our front door and the bus is pulling up to the bus stop, our bus driver, Rose, will always wait for Sam and Michael.  The kids will run for their lives down the street.

Since the last thing I ever want to do a mere twenty minutes after waking up is make small talk at the bus stop – I stopped going about a year ago.

I usually just watch them book down the street at warp speeds – make sure they get to the bus safely and go back inside.

I think a hundred yard dash is a healthy way to start the morning...

I think a hundred yard dash is a healthy way to start the morning…

 

Last week I bought Rose a gift card and the kids made her a card that said “Thank you for always waiting for us, you are a great bus driver!”

I placed the card on the table by the front door so we wouldn’t forget about it.

Monday morning I forgot to make sure the boys took the card.

Tuesday they remembered but Rose wasn’t driving the bus.

I called the bus company and they said they weren’t sure if Rose would be on the bus for the last two days of school, but they would be happy to forward the card to her if I mailed it to them.

The next morning, after the kids ran out the door I ran upstairs to get ready for work.  Although I usually watch them make it to the bus – it was the second to last day of school and I figured they would be fine.

I needed to get a head start on getting ready for work, as I was looking particularly hideous.  I had washed my hair the night before and it was in a wet frizzy bun on top of my head and my face was tired and puffy from allergies and black eye-makeup  was smudged around my eyes from the day before.

Nobody wants to see this first thing in the morning...

Nobody wants to see this first thing in the morning…

I needed extra time to blowdry my rat’s nest of hair and fix my mug.

I put on a work shirt and before I could strip off my yoga pants and take my hair  down, I heard Michael come back inside.

I peered down the stairs.

“It’s Rose!” he panted as he grabbed the card off of the table and ran back out the door.

Doubtful that Rose would actually wait this long for him, I peered out my bedroom window and watched Michael running down the street as the bus pulled away.  He kept running around the corner out of my view and I thought maybe she had stopped for him.

Two seconds later, he was walking down the street hysterically crying.

I ran outside. “What happened?”

“I told Sam to tell Rose to wait for me and he didn’t!” he yelled in between sobs. “I hate him – he’s the worst brother ever.”

“Ok well get in the car I will drive you to school.” I answered, standing on the front steps in my work shirt and yoga pants.

“I want to take the bus!” he wailed. “Quick try to catch the bus – maybe I can get on at the next stop!” he screeched.

I ran inside to put on some flip flops and quickly looked at myself and considered what I was about to do.

Nobody wants to see this first thing in the morning...

Nobody wants to see this first thing in the morning…

 

“But I won’t get out of the car,” I thought to myself and headed out to meet Michael in the car.  He was completely hysterical.  “When I find Sam I am going to beat him up!” he yelled from the back seat while I followed the bus route to no avail.

“I can’t catch the bus Michael – it’s not a big deal… I will bring you to school.  I am sure there’s a logical explanation for this.” I said peering back at his red face in the rearview mirror.

He was inconsolable.

“He’s the worst! I told him to tell her to wait for me and he just got on the bus and didn’t tell her to wait! I am going to find him and beat him up!” he wailed as I pulled into the school parking lot.

I had a real dilemma.

He was out of control.  What if he went and found Sam outside and they got in a fist fight?

I got out of the car.

“Now because of you – I have to get out of the car looking hideous.” I said between gritted teeth as I slammed the door shut.  “Let’s find Sam and figure out what happened.”

I threw my sunglasses on and ran through groups of chattering children towards the area where Sam’s class lined up.  Michael ran ahead of me.   As we got closer to Sam, Michael ran past and headed to his classroom.

I looked after him astonished. After all this he had apparently lost interest and I found myself standing alone in front of Sam’s class as they lined up outside the building.

“Hi Mom,” Sam waved smiling.

"What is wrong with you? Why didn't you tell Rose to wait for your brother?"

“What is wrong with you? Why didn’t you tell Rose to wait for your brother?”

“I forgot.” he shrugged.

I rolled my eyes under my dark glasses and turned and ran back to my car – praying that nobody would see me.

That afternoon when the kids got home I asked if they had resolved their differences.

“Oh yeah – it’s fine.” they answered nonchalantly.

“Oh great – after I had to go out in public looking like a lunatic.” I answered.

“Oh yeah,” Sam answered with a grimace.

“What? Why are you making that face?” I demanded.

He looked up at me with a pleading look on his face, “I don’t want to tell you…” he squeaked.

“Saammm….” I said slowly.

“I really don’t know how to tell you this….” he said quietly.

“Tell me now.”

“Well – do you know when you came up to my class line?” he said slowly.

“Yeesss…” I answered impatiently.

“Well when you left – this girl Tina in my class said to me “Wow – why does your mom have so many wrinkles?”

After they woke me up I went fucking ballistic.

After they woke me up I went fucking ballistic.

“Who said it Sam? Who is she?” I screeched.

“Tina Roode.” he answered gravely.

“No really  – What’s her real last name?” I demanded of him.

“It’s really Roode! and she’s rude!” he answered matter-of-factly. “And I told her, ‘Don’t ever talk to me again’ and then I ignored her.”

“But she just kept talking about your wrinkles all day.” he sighed.

“What the hell did she say?” I yelled.

“She just kept saying,” Your mom has wrinkles, your mom has wrinkles.” he said with exasperation.

“Sam – so help me God – you better never talk to this girl for the rest of your life. I don’t care if you are a senior in highschool – you better never NEVER!! have any interactions with her.  She is a very rude, troubled little girl and she has messed with the wrong person!!” I screamed as he looked at me like a deer in headlights.

I was beside myself.

I ran to the mirror and tried to imagine how I would look to a 6 year-old.

I mean I am pretty banged up - but not really that wrinkled per se......

I mean I am pretty banged up – but not really that wrinkled per se……

“I need Botox – this is horrible I am an ugly person.” I said to myself in the mirror.

“No mom you are very pretty.” Michael and Sam pleaded with me – their faces ridden with worry as their mother crumbled before their very eyes.

“Well except in the morning…” Sam said matter-of-factly.

I turned quickly and stared him down.

“No….he means because – you know ….you forget to wear bras.” Michael interjected to save Sam.

I laughed. “Well that’s true.”

I called Mr. Gaga at work and told him the story.

“Can you believe this fucking bitch?” I said venomously.

“So you are calling me at work to tell me that you have a war with a 6-year-old?” he answered impatiently.

“Are you not fazed that these children are fucking evil??” I asked in despair.

“I can tell you right now who’s mother’s looked like shit when I was in first grade and I would NEVER say it aloud when I was a child!!  What kind of horrible person would say such a thing?” I rattled on.

“I don’t know…” Mr. Gaga answered robotically.

“Well let me tell you – Sam is very attractive and there will come a day when this bitch will want to have sex with him and I am going to be sure that I shut it down real fast…” I said hysterically.

“Um – I have to go.” Mr. Gaga answered with disgust.

I hung up.

How dare a first grader make fun of a classmates mother to his face? Are children this troubled? How does a 6-year-old girl even know that calling someone “wrinkled” is the worst insult she could ever say?

I guess we can forget any hope of innocent sweet children after age 3 around here.

The Gaga’s need a ten week break from the evil and demented children of Goopville.

That last day of school could not come fast enough.

The irony is not lost on me that this all happened because the bus driver didn’t wait for Michael when he was simply trying to give her a card that said “Thanks for always waiting for me.”

It’s time for some sun and to spend time with people who won’t hurl insults at me or my children.

Does anyone know where I can find people like that????

HAPPY SUMMER!!!!

AFTER BEING VERBALLY ASSAULTED BY A FIRST GRADER I DESERVE A CLICK OF THE BANNER BELOW!!! XO, LADY GOO GOO GAGA

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Why my kids are lucky to have me….


The other day at the store Michael was pointing to something in the deli case.

“Mom kids in my class have this for lunch all the time…I want to get that.” he said.

lunchables

“Absolutely not.” I said as I  pushed the cart away, “When you see children that have that for lunch it means that their mother doesn’t love them…see how lucky you are to have me?”

He nodded and seemed to understand.

It reminded me in general as Mother’s Day approaches just how incredibly lucky Michael and Sam are to have me….

I am going to repost from last Mother’s Day my list of reasons why…..

TOP TEN REASONS WHY MY KIDS ARE LUCKY THAT I AM THEIR MOTHER:

1 – Of course – just stating the obvious here – but even though I am Italian and spent many years going tanning my kids are lucky enough that I don’t  roast them in a tanning bed.

2 – I let my children choose from refreshing beverages like milk or water and I give them Flintstones Vitamins with Extra C to build immunity! I don’t breastfeed them until they are old enough to have one hand on a Wii controller and the other on my boob.

3 – If I did do something that could potentially scar them for life or embarrass them in front of their friends, I wouldn’t let some magazine reporter and photographer document said activity and publish it for the world to see.  I would not do that even if it was for the cover of TIME Magazine, because although I have a blog which could be seen as a touch narcissistic, I am not a complete asshole.

4 – I actually spend time with my kids. I take them to the park, or read books to them, or take them to the library instead of spending my time  “bullet-ing” all day like  many mothers in America.

5 – I could possibly be considered a “milf.”  This is especially noticeable when compared to the “milgamo’s” around this town.    (“Milgamo” stands for – “moms I’d like to give a make-over.) This doesn’t necessarily mean much – but when the kids are older I am sure they will take comfort in knowing that when I pick them up from school I won’t be wearing ‘mom-jeans.”

6 – Even though other mothers in town seem to “forget” to comb their children’s hair or let their hair grow to the floor because  “Johnny doesn’t like getting his hair cut,” I get my boys frequent haircuts and comb their hair regularly.

I think it is important that they don’t look like drag queens on heroin at the bus stop - (like many young boys do these days.)

This is another little first grade boy that often sits next to my son on the bus....

This is another little first grade boy that often sits next to my son on the bus….

7 – I make sure that my children are not fat and lazy.  On nice days I often send them outside and lock all the doors, keeping them out for long stretches of time.

When they try to come inside and watch television or play video games, I yell and say “Do you want to be fat and lazy like all of your friends? Do you??” and shove them back out the door.

8 -I don’t really make them go to church.  My father made me go every living Sunday of my life. I think my kids are pretty lucky that I am too lazy and tired and not-god-fearing enough, to make them go.  When we do go on occasion, if they laugh and act crazy, I probably join in instead of yelling at them.  (Sorry Jesus.)

9 – I keep it real.  I don’t hide the nitty-gritty facts of life.  The threat that my children might some day really end up in “bad boy school,” keeps  everyone on their toes around here.  “Bad boy school” is a place that my mother-in-law taught me about.  It is a place where boys go when they are mean and rotten and can be conveniently seen from the highway!  I drive fast enough by it that they never really get a good look.

I always say “Oh look I see little sad faces peeking out the windows….See them??”

They always look out the window frantically with looks of horror – and say “Yes! I see them!!”

Otherwise known as the Colt Building in Hartford, it’s the “Bad Boy School” in the Gaga household. I always say as we drive by – “There it is kids! Keep it up and that’s where you will be living soon!”

10- I BLOG about my life and theirs – so they will have plenty of evidence of what a good mother I am and how much I love them!!!

HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY TO ALL OF THE MOMS! AND AS A MOTHER’S DAY GIFT TO ME – PLEASE CLICK THE BANNER BELOW!!!XOXO, LADYGOOGOOGAGA

10 Reasons Why My Kids are Lucky to Have Me as their Mother


What?

Did you think I was going to get sentimental and mushy about how lucky I am to be a mother just because it’s Mother’s Day?

Nope, that’s not going to happen.

Of course, I absolutely love my boys more than words can say – but quite frankly that’s boring.

Who wants to hear about how great motherhood is and how blessed I am to have two gorgeous, happy, funny, sweet boys? 

I was thinking instead of talking about how great my kids are on MOTHER’S DAY I should talk about how great I AM!!!

TOP TEN REASONS WHY MY KIDS ARE LUCKY THAT I AM THEIR MOTHER:

1 – Of course – just stating the obvious here – but even though I am Italian and spent many years going tanning my kids are lucky enough that I don’t  roast them in a tanning bed.

2 – I let my children choose from refreshing beverages like milk or water and I give them Flintstones Vitamins with Extra C to build immunity!  I don’t breastfeed them until they are old enough to have one hand on a Wii controller and the other on my boob.

3 – If I did do something that could potentially scar them for life or embarrass them in front of their friends, I wouldn’t let some magazine reporter and photographer document said activity and publish it for the world to see.  I would not do that even if it was for the cover of TIME Magazine, because although I have a blog which could be seen as a touch narcissistic, I am not a complete asshole.  

*Side note: Although I would love to talk more about this – that is all I am going to say about US Weekly TIME Magazine!!  I see what you are doing MR. TIME Magazine Editor….I’ve got your number….and I am not going to give you the satisfaction of getting annoyed about it…..because that’s WHAT YOU WANT!!! You want us to all bicker and fight about who is the best MOM on MOTHER’S DAY!!! I am not going to do that.  I am just going to give a list of  why I AM THE BEST MOTHER…..for other reasons besides breastfeeding….because guess what???  BREASTFEEDING OR NOT BREASTFEEDING does not actually define MOTHERHOOD!!!

Anyhoo….

4 – I actually spend time with my kids. I take them to the park, or read books to them, or take them to the library instead of spending my time  “bullet-ing” all day like  many mothers in America.

5 – I could possibly be considered a “milf.”  This is especially noticeable when compared to the “milgamo’s” around this town.    (“Milgamo” stands for – “moms I’d like to give a make-over.) This doesn’t necessarily mean much – but when the kids are older I am sure they will take comfort in knowing that when I pick them up from school I won’t be wearing ‘mom-jeans.”

6 – Even though other mothers in town seem to “forget” to comb their children’s hair or let their hair grow to the floor because  “Johnny doesn’t like getting his hair cut,” I get my boys frequent haircuts and comb their hair regularly. 

I think it is important that they don’t look like drag queens on heroin at the bus stop - (like many young boys do these days.)

This little boy is in 1st grade with Michael and often sits next to him on the bus….

 7 – I make sure that my children are not fat and lazy.  On nice days I often send them outside and lock all the doors, keeping them out for long stretches of time. 

When they try to come inside and watch television or play video games, I yell and say “Do you want to be fat and lazy like all of your friends? Do you??” and shove them back out the door.

8 -I don’t really make them go to church.  My father made me go every living Sunday of my life.  I think my kids are pretty lucky that I am too lazy and tired and not-god-fearing enough, to make them go.  When we do go on occasion, if they laugh and act crazy, I probably join in instead of yelling at them.  (Sorry Jesus.)

9 – I keep it real.  I don’t hide the nitty-gritty facts of life.  The threat that my children might some day really end up in “bad boy school,” keeps  everyone on their toes around here.  “Bad boy school” is a place that my mother-in-law taught me about.  It is a place where boys go when they are mean and rotten and can be conveniently seen from the highway!  I drive fast enough by it that they never really get a good look. 

I always say “Oh look I see little sad faces peeking out the windows….See them??”

They always look out the window frantically with looks of horror – and say “Yes! I see them!!”

Otherwise known as the Colt Building in Hartford, it’s the “Bad Boy School” in the Gaga household. I always say as we drive by – “There it is kids! Keep it up and that’s where you will be living soon!”

10- I BLOG about my life and theirs – so they will have plenty of evidence of what a good mother I am and how much I love them!!!

HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY TO ALL OF THE MOMS! AND AS A MOTHER’S DAY GIFT TO ME – PLEASE CLICK THE BANNER BELOW!!!XOXO, LADYGOOGOOGAGA

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