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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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Tom Hanks was wrong…


There is crying in baseball. 

A lot of crying.

There is also playdate crying, LEGO crying, swim crying, bike riding crying….it’s endless.

That’s all these whinge-bag boys do around here is cry.

Growing up I remember once playing with the kids on my street, and my brother was getting pushed around by one of the older boys (today we would say he was “being bullied.”) One day, my brother couldn’t take it anymore and he started crying while doing a crazy windmill like motion with his arms towards the bully.

I don’t remember how it ended, but the only thing I remember is the crazy windmill move (it was weird and kind of funny) and the crying (it was rare.)

Today little boys cry with reckless abandon.  They don’t gives two shits.  They just cry and cry. 

They don’t care who sees them.  

They don’t care if people think they are cry-babies or sissies.

I think little boys should cry if they have a valid reason, as they are young children and clearly shouldn’t have to hide their emotions because they are boys.

Valid reasons include: injuries, legitimate fears or concerns, hurt feelings by a friend, etc.

Invalid reasons would be I don’t know……not liking swimming lessons or getting a strike at baseball.

We started a new swim school a couple of weeks ago.  My thinking was last time I spent $400.00 and Sam cried every single day, and perhaps if we tried a more low-key program for half the price we would have better results (emotionally, anyways – I have pretty much given up on the swimming part.)

The kids were in separate classes so upon arrival, Michael headed off to the deeper end of the pool and Sam stayed in the shallow end with a younger group. 

Michael is a much better swimmer than Sam, with 18 months and an extra year of swimming lessons on him, so I was most concerned with Sam’s abilities on the first day. 

I breathed a sigh of relief when Sam waved at me with a huge smile and jumped into the pool.  I sat down to relax a bit in front of the viewing window.

But wait, why was Michael being escorted by his teen swimming coach towards the viewing window in tears?

I stood up to greet him and the college girl at the door.

“What’s the problem Michael?”

“I’m sinking!!! I am going to sink!” he cried in hysterics.

I looked at the teacher expectantly – who was frankly doing nothing to help the situation.

“Is he sinking?” I asked.

“No – he just needs to calm down…..” she said hesitantly.

“He can swim, he must just be nervous.” I assured her.  I looked down at Michael and spoke in my famous “fake nice mommy voice.”

“You can swim, your teacher won’t let you sink – you are just rusty, now go to your lesson.”

5 minutes later they were back.

“What now?” I asked impatiently as I whipped open the door.

“He has to use the bathroom.” the teacher explained.

“No you don’t – now stop it and finish your lesson,” I said to Michael between gritted teeth.

“Yes – I really have to go!” he said wiggling around.

I grabbed his arm so hard it almost came out of the socket and dragged him to the door to the boys bathroom.

“Get inside and go to the bathroom and hurry up.  You better be out here in one minute.” I yelled at him.

I stood waiting outside the door with smoke pouring out of my ears.

Tick. Tock.

A couple of minutes went by.  I opened the door and called inside, “Michael what is the hold-up?” 

No answer.

“Michael – so help me God – you better hurry up and get out here or you will be punished for a month.” I screamed like a lunatic with no regard for young men walking by me and witnessing my insanity.

No answer.

“MICHAEL!!!” I screeched.

“What????” he answered.

“Hurry up!!!!!”

“I’m pooping.” he called back.

I actually looked around for something I could smash into a million pieces, but couldn’t find anything, so had to resort to more inappropriate screaming.

“Michael – you better hurry up – this is not an appropriate time to poop!!!!” I screamed.

He finally moseyed out in tears again about sinking.

I dragged him by the arm over to the teacher. She was in for it too.

“Oookaaayyy, he is no longer allowed to speak to me during swimming lessons.”

“Well if he says he needs to use the bathroom we are obligated to bring him.” she answered curtly.

“Well he just took a huge shit for twenty minutes so he’s good.  Do you think he can like learn to swim or something?” I answered shortly and turned on my heel.

Needless to say his pooping and crying landed him in Sam’s class.  He got demoted.

At least he doesn’t cry anymore.

And at least I have straight vodka to drink when I get home from these little activities.

And thank you Jesus for giving me a job that requires me to work a lot on weekends.  Because of this I have missed a lot of Michael’s baseball season.

I was recently able to catch a full game.

Let’s just say it is very lucky that it is MR. and not MRS. Gaga that is the coach of this team of fat and lazy children.

Many of these losers can be frequently found laying down or “looking for mushrooms” in the outfield actually during the game!!!!

You are probably asking “what do their parents say?”

Ohh!

Their parents say nothing!!

Their parents are very busy on the sidelines on their Blackberries and Iphones playing “Words with Friends” and updating their Facebook status to read “At Ethan’s baseball game!! We are so proud of him!!

The thought wouldn’t cross their minds to actually look up and WATCH THE GAME and NOTICE THEIR WRETCHED CHILD’S INAPPROPRIATE BEHAVIOR!

The moms who are off in the shade watching the game quietly – are the ones who kids are actually good.

The parents who show up in Vineyard Vines attire and a huge Tommy Bahama beach chair with a matching sun umbrella are the ones to watch out for.

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 also shit his pants, so he quickly got back on his phone again……

Those moms in the Lily Pulitzer attire at the game are the ones who will say “Oh we are so busy with Hunter! He has tennis and golf on Mondays and Tuesdays, karate on Wednesdays and baseball on Thursdays and Saturdays!!”

I am quite tempted to say “Oh really – is that Hunter? The fat kid who just ran from 3rd base to 2nd? The one Mr. Gaga told me pooped in his pants during the last game?” That’s super that he plays 3 sports!! You must be the best mother in the whole town!!!!

These kids not only shit their pants, and look for mushrooms instead of catching the ball.  They are known for crying when they get tagged out and crying when they don’t get a hit.  They also will refuse to leave the field when they are clearly out, because they DON’T WANT TO, and if they do leave the field against their wishes, they will take their batting helmet and smash it as hard as they can (which isn’t very hard because they are pathetic, doughy wusses) against the fence or onto the ground.

To add insult to injury – at the end of this horrorfest – the score?

It’s a tie.

Every game.

No matter what.

Because…….

“If you had fun….you won.”

Can you believe this horse shit?

THAT’S NOT TRUE!!!!

DO YOU KNOW WHAT’S NOT FUN?

WHEN YOU SUCK DONKEY BALLS…..

YOU KNOW WHAT ELSE IS NOT FUN???

WHEN SOME STUPID LOSER KID HAS A TEMPER TANTRUM BECAUSE HE CAN’T HIT THE BALL SO HE THROWS HIS BATTING HELMET OVER THE FENCE AND IT HITS MICHAEL IN THE HEAD…..

At some point these children in America are going to have to experience a loss, to understand what it is to be defeated, to possibly be inspired to do better or to stop looking for mushrooms, so that they can WIN!!!

Because in real life when you spend your entire lesson time or game time taking a shit and crying – guess what?

YOU SINK TO THE BOTTOM OR YOU LOSE THE GAME.

I think fellow mom blogger Momma Kiss said it best when she was shocked to find that most parents wouldn’t let their 7-year-olds play dodgeball because it was “too rough.” She wrote:

“I mean really – the pussification of boys these days.”

Enough said.

If you like this loving blog post about how I scream at my children and call other children fat losers, then please share on Facebook!!  ALSO -ANY LIKES ON FACEBOOK WOULD BE GREATLY APPRECIATED!! XOXOXO, LADY GOO GOO GAGA

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