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Monthly Archives: September 2011

Where a Kid can be a Kid

Birthday party season has begun. 

I have had some interesting experiences with birthday parties with a crazy Martha Stewart wanna-be mom here and a crazy opposite of Martha Stewart wanna-be mom here.

As painful as some of these birthday parties have been – we have managed to avoid one place.

Anytime my children see the commercials for Chuck E.
Cheese they beg and plead for me to bring them to this magical place.  I have been telling them for years – that (even though there are blatantly children their age in the ads) only teenagers can go there.

A couple of weeks ago, we got an invitation for both kids to go to a birthday party.  Sometimes I throw invitations I don’t like into the garbage and hope for the best – but there was no way that I would get away with that for a party that they were both invited to.  I would not be able to beat the system….


“Wait – Michael has soccer practice on Friday nights! Oh well….can’t go.” I said as my husband ( I will just call him Mr. Gaga) and I were standing at our kitchen island going through the mail.

“They are going to the party,” he said without even looking up from something he was reading.

So let me digress and give a little background on this situation.  Mr. Gaga played football his whole life, like it was his job.  Year-round, all weekend, every weekend, all summer. 

He never had a real summer job, he never went to summer camp that wasn’t sports-related, AND (this is apparently the big one) – he never really made it to a lot of birthday parties.

Guess what his prize was for all of his hard work?

Was he getting fat eating Smurf cake or getting bruised knees from all of the falling down at the roller-rink like the rest of us? (it was the 80’s)


He got to go to college for free!!

Not even just a “here are some free classes and a free room scholarship” – The full ride I am talking about is the kind where you don’t even buy a french fry or a pencil.

Stone-cold free college at a Division 1 School.

Oh – that was a totally horrible thing that happened right??

Boo- hoo.

You can see why he would still be harboring weird resentments regarding Chuck E. Cheese – right?

“What the eff are you talking about? He doesn’t have to go to the party.” I said.

“Just let him be a kid and have fun – he’s 5 years old – he can miss a practice.” he replied with exasperation.

“OoooKaaayyy, they can go to the party,” I said slowly,”But don’t you think it would be good to teach him about practicing and what it means to commit to a team, and so forth?”

He looked at me like I was an idiot – “Come on – it’s first grade soccer – It’s not a big deal.”

“Ok – well good thing Tiger Wood’s father didn’t think like that……or Lynne Spears.”  – (Damn it – those were the only people I could think of that started their careers as children -but I knew I just shot myself in the foot.)

He couldn’t wait to reply – “Oh yeah – how did that turn out?”

I shrugged – “Ok – then maybe you’re right.  When I go to the party I am going to ask to speak to someone about what kind of scholarship program they offer at Chuck E. Cheese.  Or maybe they could go to Chuck E. Cheese University.”

He smirked – “Good one.”

“Or maybe by the time they go to school there will be some sort of competitive inflatable bounce house teams or they could get sponsored by like a corporate face painting company…..”

So the new plan is instead of hockey and baseball - I am just going to make the kids bounce in this bad-boy everyday.......fingers crossed!!!

The dreaded day came on Friday.  I kind of secretly was looking forward to checking it out.  I remember going for my brother’s birthday when I was like 8 and thinking it was the best place in the world.  I was looking forward to seeing the joy in my kids’ eyes.  I mean how bad could it be?

Um – bad.

Let’s just say that if they were going to make Chuck E. Cheese University they would have to change the tagline to be “Where a kid could be an asshole while his parents gnaw on chicken bones and watch.”

My four-year-old learned real quick when he put his FULL bucket of tokens down on his seat for 30 seconds and it got stolen. 

Then they were playing “Skee Ball” and their tickets came out and some little girl came and ripped them all off and RAN AWAY!!

When I saw her ripping off all of our tickets, I said:

“Did you just rip off their tickets?” thinking that clearly calling her out would shame her into returning them.

“Nope.” she said while she counted her tickets. 

Shocked I looked to see if her parents were watching – they were.  They didn’t care.

Once I saw her parents - I realized I was fighting an uphill battle and just let the girl keep the tickets...

What? You didn’t know you could get wings at Chuck E. Cheese University?

After all of the fun and games it was dinner time!

And you know how I feel about food? You know how I feel about pizza that is not really pizza? I thought maybe there was hope when I saw this very detailed ad in the paper.

See how it maps out all the areas that have been improved? 

Lady goo goo gaga fell for the old “zesty sauce” trick….

What? They zoomed in on a wooden spoon stirring it!!! 

I also fell for the old “variety of quality toppings” trick with a zoomed in picture of green peppers and cauliflower? to prove it. 

False advertising Chuck.  Not improved – it is still really bad. 

But the kids didn’t care- and I could have actually given them their rainboots with some sauce and cheese on it and they would have probably not noticed.

So off to the ticket-muncher we went to redeem our tickets (what was left after we got car-jacked at the Mario Kart game and had to give all of our tickets away to the carjacker.)   Then the kids got to pick out really fancy toys that have pictures of Chuck all over them.

Then we escaped. 

My kids passed out cold when they went to bed probably dreaming of all of the fun and laughs they had.  I had nightmares about cardboard pizza and these creepy weirdos.

Till the next birthday party!

Please click on the banner below to give me a vote for funniest mom blog!!  I am going to need some cheering up….when my husband finds out I called him Mr. Gaga – he is going to kill me………



And F.U. Friday


Post it Note Tuesday


If you are curious about this post it might help to read my last post…..Enjoy 🙂


Jingle Hell

So – I signed up a while ago to a service in town – where moms could receive emails regarding pertinent information about children, parenting etc.  Some reasonable uses of the service would be say – “Does anyone know the best pediatric dentist in town?” or “Where is a good place to go for piano lessons?” or “Has anyone ever been to the indoor water park in Waterbury?”

Many people for one reason or another ask inappropriate questions and what I consider inappropriate requests to  a community of unknown mothers in town.  The constant stream of ridiculous emails is enough to send you off the deep end – see below for the latest offense this week (and for those of you who still think I make this stuff up – this is word-for-word!!:

Subject: Advice


> You all have been great in giving advice in the past that I thought I’d

run something by you. What do you tell a 2-yr old about Santa? I would like for him to believe in Santa but my husband says that there’s no reason for him to.  That he should know that we buy his gifts because we love him. Has anyone else made the decision to tell their kids that Santa isn’t real? What did you say and  what  was the outcome?

Also…does anyone know where I can get K-Cups (for a Keurig coffee maker)

for a cheaper price? At the grocery store they’re $8.99 for

a box of 12 and I was informed today that they’re going up.

Thanks in advance! You all are awesome! Love, Jenny


Hi Jenny – Thanks for calling us all awesome!!

You know who is not awesome?


Just so you know – it’s September!!  And Christmas is not really top on everyone’s to-do list but since you asked……

Many families were grappling last week with remembering the loss of loved ones on September 11th, and probably
thinking about one day explaining this horrible day to their children. 

In this economy, I know many families who are struggling with telling their kids that they might not have any presents at Christmas because their mom or dad (or both) have lost their job. 

Nationwide – parents will be figuring out where Christmas will be this year because their home was washed away in a flood or hurricane or lost in a foreclosure. 

But your husband is right!!

You should totally shower your 2-year-old child with
“gifts of love” and then tell him they are all from you!!

We live in a nation that at the 10-year anniversary of September 11, 2001 is still at war, close to 10 percent of our nation is unemployed,  millions don’t have access to healthcare while facing deadly incurable diseases like cancer and AIDS, 1 out of 110 children are diagnosed with autism and global warming is destroying or ending people’s lives all over the world.

That being said – I can totally see why what little happiness your child might have before facing the harsh
realities of adulthood, should be ripped away from him – all so he can properly thank your husband for the $200 of Little Tykes crap he bought at the Toys R’ Us.

I mean really – why should Santa get all of the credit?

And by the way your husband sounds like a real peach!  Wherever did you find him? It’s so rare to find a good man who is not an ego-maniac!! Lucky!!

He also sounds super-intelligent and super in-touch with childhood development.  Does he have a PhD in this subject?  

I know that he is so looking forward to the day when he can announce to a group of people that he has chosen to ruin his child’s life  tell his child that there is no such thing as Santa  – so that everyone knows that he is “above” such silly rituals.

Oops – small problem – Jenny!  Your douche-bag super-awesome hubby – failed to read the chapter in his PhD textbook that discussed the fact that 2 -year- olds…..(and I quote from a real medical textbook on childhood development)

pg. 201- “Don’t give two flying fucks who gave them the Little Tykes crap.”

They don’t even get the concept of receiving a gift yet  – so when you have this all-important convo to break the bad news…..guess what?

You will have the same convo next Christmas when he’s three – and then probably again when he’s four.

He will not even remember your “love gifts”  – let alone who gave them to him.

Oh – and Jenny – one more thing – when you have this sit-down – could you do us a favor and let him know that you 2 are the only ass-hats that are doing this?

The rest of us quite enjoy lying to our kids and letting them experience little emotions called “joy” and “wonderment” and don’t need you and your tortured child ruining it.

Thanks!! That would be super-awesome!

In closing – I see you had a little question about coffee cups!  Who doesn’t right? LOL!

Well – I notice that you sent your email via Blackberry – which means that you’re savvy enough to use modern technology – but what you might not realize is that there is this little thing called a newspaper.

Inside it – usually once a week – you will find something called a circular! Each store actually lists their sale items using photos as well as extra-large bold text that will state the sale price – like

Oh - by the way - I had a sec - and I googled Keurig sale - and it said there were about 1,200,700 results you dumb bitch.......

It is super-easy to read and very user-friendly – maybe even more so than your Blackberry!

If you feel like you still cannot find a good price for your Keurig coffee cups – don’t hesitate to shoot us another email.  We will all stop what we are doing  (you know because we are all stupid morons that believe in Santa) and find the best price for your coffee!!

Hope this helps!

Your friend – LADY GOO GOO GAGA

PS – I sent a copy of your email to Santa – and this was his reply – ( he asked that I pass it along to you)


>Do you see how passionate I am about the happiness and welfare of children????  You should click this banner for me – just sayin…..


Thank you!!!!!!


Linking to  Pour your Heart Out

Terrified by the Dashboard Lights

Where did I leave off ?……Oh right…I did a kind act for my child and was rewarded with my “mom car” blowing up. 

The “check engine” light is flashing, a dinging noise is chiming repeatedly and another symbol is lit up on the dashboard which (a quick perusal of my car manual tells me) means essentially “Run for your life!”

So what did I do?

I drove home.  I was so close – I had to do it.

I arrived home without the car blowing up.

I was near hyperventilation.  The kids were still crying about Superman.

The “mom car” had to go in the shop for repairs.  This hellish week of back-to-school and my husband’s crazy schedule, we couldn’t have only one car. My husband borrowed someone’s car and let me use his.

It was glorious.

His car is nothing fancy.   But for starters, it’s a car and it’s not red.  It’s pretty fast and it has a leather interior and heated seats.

He watched me as I was getting acclimated, adjusting the seat and changing the mirrors.  I looked up at the rearview mirror and remembered that I can possibly get some tanning done in this vehicle.  I started thinking I should just keep this as my car.

“Look you even have a skylight in here!! It’s not fair!” I said pouting.

He looked at me with disgust.

“Ok – at least get the lingo right – It’s a sunroof.”

“Oh right – apparently my “mom car” is making me stupid……I am keeping this for my car now, you can have mine.”  I said matter-of-factly.

I think he didn’t really take me seriously the first day.  But by the end of the 10- day period of time that my car was in the shop, I had a new lease on life and there was absolutely no way I was giving him his car back. 

I can feel my youth in his car.  I am lower to the ground than I have been in 6 years.  It’s not depressing and sad like my “mom-car.”   I don’t chug along dropping kids off at school or going to the store. 

I zip.

I zip to the store in my sporty little car.  I open the skylight and crank up the music. I don’t have room for more than 3 kids and a stroller can’t even fit in the trunk if I tried.

It’s wonderful.

Not to mention that I have paid my dues in the offensive automobile department.  My father gifted me with my first car which was a powder blue Chrysler Holiday.   It was mortifying and ruined my life for a short period until I totaled it on purpose  in a horrible accident – (but everyone was ok thank goodness.)

I actually couldn’t even find a picture of this ridiculous hunk of shit – but this is the closest image I could find – just to give you an idea of what my Dad thought would be appropriate for his daughter to drive to a New England prep school where all the children drove BMW’s.

Picture this in powder blue....

After that I used my father’s Ford Taurus station wagon to get around for a while until he replaced my “Holiday” with a Mercury Topaz from the 80’s. 

This is what it looked like - but don't worry I tinted the windows and got some bitchin' hubcaps to spif it up....

After that I spent a few years driving a red Ford Escort, and then finally got a little sporty car that I liked. 

Guess what happened when I paid off that car and was loving life?

I had a baby and spent the next 6 years rocking a “mom-car.”

One day when we were fist-pumping (through the sunroof!!!) to the music, with the wind from the open window blowing my hair – Michael asked “Mommy when are you getting your car back?”

I turned down the radio – “This is my car.” I answered.

“No it’s not!” he said. I stopped at a light and looked back at both kids.

“Yes it is – and do you seen how clean and luxurious it is?  Do you see how it seems as if the person who owns this car has no children?” I asked.

They both nodded their heads “yes.”

“Ok – it’s going to stay that way. No more eating in the car.  No more leaving Lego guys and itty-bitty GI Joe guns and loose crayons in the car.  I want this car to always seem like there are never any kids in it….Got it?”

They agreed to this. 

By the time my car came back from the shop – my husband had resigned himself to driving the “mom-car” full-time.

Next step – making the full swap of the cars.  Out came the shop-vac and garbage bags and my husband went to work cleaning out the “mom-car.” 

It didn’t go well.

“This is disgusting, how could you live like this?” he said several times throughout the day.

“This car has been with me for some rough years!!  Children have grown up in it!  They have eaten and barfed and pooped in it!   Your car is so nice because you only had children in it like twice.  Drive a mile in my mom-car shoes and then we will talk, and I am sorry I didn’t have time to “Armor-all” the car – because I was busy BREASTFEEDING!!!”

Whenever I need to defend myself – I usually try to work in the breastfeeding and then I automatically win the argument.  Even though I haven’t breastfed in 3 1/2 years – it actually is still effective!!

Finally I took my lipglosses and sunglasses and any other essentials and gave him his cologne and EZ PASS and we were swapped!  I felt such a weight off of my shoulders.

And really it is for the best.  If I don’t nip this in the bud right now – I could end up in one of those things for the rest of my life! I could be bringing them to college in a van!! I could be picking them up and 32 friends from the movies!!

That wouldn’t be good for my mental health.

If this "mom car" thing continues - this will be me picking up my kids when they are on a date .....and then nobody will be happy.

Why should I drive a “mom car?”  Haven’t I done enough?  

It’s not enough that I am permanently fat and unpleasant?

I have to wake up everyday and get into some sort of red mini-van that’s filled with smashed up goldfish, sand, and toys?

 I don’t have a dog. 

I don’t have 4 children.  

Why am I driving this thing again?

Oh right …..I’m not.

It was hurting my feelings – and I feel much better now.

I know it’s a bit of a pain – but if you have a minute please vote for me as one of PARENTS MAGAZINE’S FUNNIEST MOM BLOGS!!


Linking to Shell at Things I Can’t Say and Boobies, Babies and a Blog and

Seven Clown Circus

Life Lesson #1 – Superman Can’t Really Fly

This week continued to be as wretched as expected.  In preparing for the hurricane we came home and attempted to pick everything up in our finished basement and either throw it out or put it up on a high shelf.   We then filled up our bathtub with water? Then we bought a bunch of water and some food (but not too much since we would probably lose power) just enough to make sauce and meatballs.  We made the meatballs at night and went to bed.

The storm was supposed to start at around midnight and we figured we would be out of power and flooded when we woke up.  When I woke up at like 6:30 am I looked out the window and saw just a rainy day and we still had power. 

I ran downstairs…”Should I start the sauce now  – so if we lose power we can just heat it up on the grill?” I said frantically opening cans of tomatoes.

“Yes – Yes.” my husband replied matter-of-factly.

We later laughed at this “hurricane-preparedness” plan that was entirely focused on “sunday dinner.”  Which by the way we ate in full light and didn’t have a drop of water in the basement – thank goodness.

A lot of people had to clean up their yards after the hurricane - but we just had to eat a lot of macaroni....

When that was all done with – I was home 3 days earlier than I would normally have left the beach.   I felt obligated to tend to all the miscellaneous tasks and errands that I was supposed to do over the summer and never did. 

Off I went in my “mom car” to:

1 – BJ’s for snacks, drinks, cereal, etc.for the kids for school

2 – “Big Y” which is my local grocery store for basic food and supplies. Since my husband is basically home alone a lot while we are at the beach, he lets the food situation get down to baking soda, a box of brownies and olive oil.

3 – Post office to mail out bills, paperwork for sports, health forms,etc.   A great deal of this stuff was late and covered with sunscreen and/or fluff.

4 – The cleaners to get my husband’s shirts cleaned for work that have been in a filthy pile in his closet since the end of June…you know because he doesn’t know how to get to the cleaners.

5 – Walgreens for an additional medication for my sinus infection.  Last week I mentioned we were all sick.  Before the hurricane as part of my hurricane-preparedness plan I went to the clinic to get an antibiotic to clear up my ever-worsening condition.  Yeah that didn’t work.

6- Modell’s for soccer cleats and socks for the soccer season for Michael that I just sent my payment for(#3) and apparently starts this week.

I actually managed to get this all done with minimal melting down of children and in a somewhat efficient manner.  I was annoyed that I wasted a gorgeous day in the car, but I was happy to get everything done and we were in the home stretch on the way to our house.  I was tired and they were tired and we were all tired of buckling and unbuckling their seatbelts. 

We were almost home.

“Mama, Mama – open our windows!”

I mindlessly obeyed and didn’t realize that they were flying their superheros in the wind so their capes could fly.

I found out soon enough when I heard shrieks of despair and looked back to see Sam’s face drawn and pale looking at his empty hand in shock.

“His Superman flew away!” Michael said with horror. “Go back! Go back!” he screamed hysterically.

“Too bad you guys – I always tell you not to stick anything out the window.”  I instinctively knew this was a good way for them to learn a lesson, but I felt a little heartbroken for Sam.

He had started really crying and I genuinely felt bad. If it was any other toy…but it was Sam’s Superman.

Sam has been playing “guys” since a very young age.  He could be seen clutching a Batman or Superman toy from a very early age wherever he went.  Everyone from store clerks to friends and family has at one point helped us find a lost “guy” in various bizarre places.  We have been fairly successful in our retrieval rate up until now.  

Wouldn’t it be so mean of me to not even try to get it?

I didn’t have high hopes in the middle of 4 lanes of traffic on RT 44 during rush hour traffic, but I turned around.

I had to do a k-turn on a side street and then wait at a light.  We were all quiet anxiously awaiting what we would find when we turned.

Each second that ticked by, I knew was critical to the possibility of Superman’s safe return home. 

The light finally turned.

I drove slowly and I saw him to our left, right in the middle of the 4 lanes of the traffic resting perfectly so that as each car whizzed by he remained magically untouched.

“There he is! ” the kids exclaimed.

Now I had to wait at another light, then turn around again, then wait at another light then head back.  As we drove by him the second time – I couldn’t believe he was still ok.

I pulled over on a side street and ran out of the car.  I stared into the road thinking about how I was going to navigate this very dangerous task.

The pink "x" shows where Superman was - and you can see me on the side of the road with the crazy hair.....

As I waited for an opportunity, I saw a huge garbage truck coming and I knew it was over.

I was right – the truck came barreling down the road and Superman was obliterated. 

A few big pieces sprayed up from under the massive tires of the truck and for one idiotic second I actually thought – “Well – maybe I could glue it.”

I ran out and collected all the pieces I could grab in a split second and ran back to the safety of the curb.  I went back to the car – and looked in the back seat at two hopeful faces that actually believed that, like Superman, I could save the day.

I poured the pieces into Sam’s hand.  Tears began again.

“Sorry guys – I tried.”

I got into the front and turned the car around AGAIN and a sudden dinging chime started, coupled with a “check engine” light and another signal that apparently meant “Run for your life – your car is going to blow up.”

The car part of this story will complete the rest of this wretched day which I will save for my next post…..



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