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Monthly Archives: March 2012

A Clean Break

When I got laid off ages ago, I had a 9 month old baby and was pregnant with my second child. It seemed that the best option at that time was for me to stay home for a while taking care of my children.

It was during this time, when I was clearly overwhelmed, tired and confused that I fired the cleaning lady to cut costs.  I  figured that I could take care of the housekeeping since I would be home with two babies with nothing else to do but clean.

Little did I know that housecleaning is a full-time job in itself. 

Little did I know that when you are home with kids you have to clean the kitchen alone, 3-5 times a day. 

Little did I know that when you add to that the laundry, going to the grocery store and cooking dinner, and just the necessary picking up of toys so you don’t actually fall and break your leg, the entire day is gone. 

Little did I know that if I could carve out a spare minute in the day I might want to take a nap or a shower and that any frivolous extra cleaning would be too much.

Little did I know I effing hate cleaning and I don’t want to be a housecleaner. 

Come to find out – I want more from life than mopping floors and vacuuming.

So, maybe dusting, scrubbing grout, or cleaning the windows fell by the wayside a bit.  Maybe the kids put fingerprints on the walls and scribbled on the refrigerator and I didn’t get a chance to wipe it off.  Maybe they press their mouths and hands on the front glass door and I don’t think to Windex it afterwards, maybe the spill Cheerios and I know some goes under the couch but I don’t feel like moving furniture……

Before you know it you are living in a shit-hole.

And P.S.  – in the midst of the life of a stay-at-home mom – with the feeding and the nursing and the diapers – I don’t actually give two shits if there’s dust in my dining room or a stray cheerio under my formula-stained couch.

And P.P.S. – I didn’t go to college to sit around and wipe butts and empty the dishwasher – and I actually don’t really feel like cleaning the windows or cleaning the top of the refrigerator. 

Even when I would put my best foot forward – and really try to keep up with the housework – what actually would end up happening is that the mess would never go away. Despite my best efforts – my housecleaning duties and chores NEVER get done completely.

I was complaining about this – years ago – to one of Mr. Gaga’s aunts. 

Mr. Gaga’s aunts and mother typically spend 11 hours a day drinking coffee, smoking cigarettes and playing scrabble, so there’s lots of time to chat.

When it's not their turn - they have time to chat and dole out parenting tips.....

“I just feel like I clean one room, then I go to the next room and clean that, and then when I go back to the first room it’s dirty again.  I can’t ever get anything done, my house is perpetually trashed…it’s impossible.”

Aunt Cathy looked at me and said in her raspy voice :

“You know I used to be like you – and I used to drive myself crazy keeping the house clean.  One day I was cleaning the curtains and my sisters called me to see if I would meet them at the park with kids.  I told them that I had planned to clean the curtains and I couldn’t make it. ”

They said “Cath – your kids will remember that you took them to the park – they won’t remember how clean your curtains are.”

Aunt Cathy took a deep drag from her cigarette and exhaled a huge cloud of smoke and stared at me….”I never cleaned again.”

And sadly for Mr. Gaga and my kids- after Aunt Cathy told me that story I never cleaned again either. ( Thanks Aunt Cathy – when you explained to me how unimportant cleaning was – that was the best day of my life!!!)

Well – I mean basic cleaning if I can; and I clean my toilets daily because I have two boys that seem to squirt pee everywhere except inside the actual toilet.

So – essential cleaning – but never will I stay in the house on a nice day when I could bring Sam to the park or skip a playdate or a trip to the library.

Cleaning is really not my cup of tea. 

My brother (who happens to have a cleaning lady, and a relative who comes over and has been known to clean the inside of their refrigerator and do their laundry!!!!  and has one magical baby that doesn’t make a mess and is only in the house a few hours a day) – finds my lack of cleaning offensive.

A couple of weeks ago I asked him why he thought he was a better parent than I was.

“Well – I guess because I care more about living in a clean environment than you do…” he said.

“Shut up!! What’s dirty in my environment?” I yelled.

“Well your toilets for one….”

“I CLEAN MY TOILETS LIKE EVERYDAY!!!! You don’t understand my life.”

But it got me thinking….maybe he’s on to something….having other people clean his house and then taking the credit for it and judging other people’s dirty homes.

I have been working a lot lately – I am not really technically a “stay-at-home” mom all the time any more……

I pretty much went back to work …..and I FORGOT TO REHIRE THE CLEANING LADY!!!!!


What an idiot I am –  I have to find a cleaning lady!! I can totally carve out some money out of my budget for this important service!!

It’s only fair to the kids and Mr. Gaga that they live in a clean home, and fair to me that I not spend every minute of my life scrubbing a toilet.

I was thinking about it on my way home from work yesterday. 

I thought – well I will definitely get a cleaning lady at least every two weeks.  That will only be about $150.00 a month, and well worth it. 

We have no big expenses coming up – Sam is almost done with preschool – HOLLA!!!!! and so it seems like it should be fine to spend money on this…….

But then again – I could hold off for a little while and if I save the $150.00 a month for three months that could go towards a dose of Botox which is badly needed or a pair of really nice shoes…..hhhmmmm…

I could feel my foot sliding into these already.....It's about time I treat myself - I deserve it!!

I was mulling this over as I pulled into the driveway……

I went around back to talk to Mr. Gaga about my great new plan – and to say hi to the kids who are usually playing on their swing set. 

This is the scene I was expecting to see:

The inside of my house may be a bit messy - but my kids and my grass and my sky are definitely this perfect!!!

 But instead I found this……..

I ran inside.

“Ummmm…..what is going on outside??” I demanded of Mr. Gaga.

“Oh – yeah – that…..Well it seems that the wood was rotted and the whole thing snapped while the kids were swinging. So I had to take the whole thing apart.” he calmly answered. “I guess we will have to get a new one.”

“A new one? A good swing set is like $3000!!! ” I whined.

“I know – it sucks.” he replied.

“But I want shoes!!!” I cried.

He rolled his eyes.  “I was just so happy that nobody was hurt, that could have been really bad – the whole upper beam just snapped.” he said shaking his head with worry.

“Yeah, yeah – that’s totally scary……I need new sunglasses too by the way….and shoes…….and a cleaning lady……” I whimpered and threw myself on the couch.

“What if God forbid someone else’s kids were here and they got hurt?” he asked.

“I don’t want someone else’s kids here – I want a cleaning lady, and shoes!!!”  he left the room disinterested in my antics.

I turned to the kids who were watching Spongebob.

“Children – are you upset about the swing set?”

“Yes – but Daddy said you would get us a new one,” said Michael not taking his eyes off of the screen.

“What if you could have a clean house but no swing set?” I asked nonchalantly, “Which would you pick?”

“Swings!” they both answered.

“UUGGGHH” I leaned back on the couch and stared at the ceiling…….and noticed the cobwebs in the corner of the room……

So when do I ever get to have a clean house or a beautiful shoe on my foot??


I know you probably don’t feel bad for me because I don’t have a new $600 pair of Gucci sandals…..but for the love of God did you see that broken swing set????? Please click the banner below to make me feel better 😉 XO, LADY GOO GOO GAGA


“No pain, no gain” and other things that assholes say…..

I overheard a conversation the other day between a mother and a pregnant woman.  The pregnant woman was talking about her birthing plan and how she intended to have a natural childbirth.

“I don’t need an epidural….I can handle pain.”

It would be highly inappropriate to get up from my park bench, throw my coffee to the ground and slap a pregnant woman across the face…….thanks God I have this here little blog.

I don’t really care if people choose to live a natural life, although  I don’t understand why people want to be in pain for no apparent reason.  I don’t understand why women today want everyone to think they are like the “Incredible Hulk.”

What I find most troubling is when people feel compelled to shout from the rooftops their misguided plans for childbirth and motherhood.

What I would like to say to her and to all woman who have NOT GIVEN BIRTH YET and make IDIOTIC ANNOUNCEMENTS about topics they KNOW NOTHING ABOUT……is this:

Do you know that when you say something like “I can handle pain” how absurd you sound to all humans with ears; let alone those of us who have actually pushed children out of our bodies vaginally?

First of all, unless someone has ever stuck something that is sharp and on fire into your birth canal…..let’s not make any definitive statements about your pain threshold.

I suppose you believe that you will be the one woman in the history of mankind who will not think it hurts.  You are going to be the one human being since the Earth was created that is going to say…”Eh…it wasn’t so bad.”

So, stick this inside your hoo-ha and see what you think.....If that doesn't bother you then you should be in good shape.....

Second of all, when you say phrases like “I can handle,” and “I am not going to,” there are a couple of things that are happening as a result. 

#1 – You are making definitive statements in public which you might regret someday when you are actually a mother.  Why not say things like “I would like to ….” or “I hope to…” 

Then when you are completely 100 percent wrong, you won’t feel like such an ass-hat and you might not have to go spiraling into a deep depression.

#2 – You are implying that your friend and quite frankly all woman who have given birth before you and have chosen pain management of some kind are weak, stupid individuals who have a low tolerance for pain. 

Let’s face it, by the sound of your condescending tone….I am going to go out on a limb and say that you think that we really can’t make any proper decisions at all as mothers, and this is our first bad choice. 

This is why women cannot get along. 

There are too many of your kind; women who (by the way actually know nothing about motherhood) make vastly inaccurate and improper judgements based on something you saw on the internet or something you saw in a flier from a midwife. 

I know that you think you have all of the answers to being the perfect mother because you totally have been taking a prenatal vitamin once a day and have not eaten any tunafish sandwiches for life 6 months, but you don’t.

#3 – You are setting yourself up for a major disaster. It is people like yourself that think you are going to have the perfect childbirth with no pain, just joy and bliss, that are the most let down when things don’t go according to plan. 

What if when you are rolling around on your birthing ball, dying of the pain, you decide that you’re actually not Lou Ferrigno?

And by the way is this the image you want for yourself? It is not very feminine....what happened to the good old days when women were delicate flowers?? Yikes.....

What if you change your mind and actually request an epidural (which happens ALL THE TIME TO YOU KNOW-IT-ALL HIPPIES)

What if you actually realize that sometimes when someone takes a butcher knife and slices you open to let a human being out of your uterus, that it actually fucking hurts like a motherfucker…..then what?

Will you consider yourself a failure? Probably. 

Will you tell us that you failed?

Probably not. 

You will probably tell us that the birthing process was amazing…. that you and your hubby are so blessed!!

And so begins the spiral of deception that so many mothers find themselves in.  You will pretend to everyone that life is great, that motherhood is wonderful and amazing. 

That you aren’t tired, that childbirth doesn’t hurt, that Bella and Brayden sleep through the night and never have a tantrum, and eat asparagus, and go on the potty, and can speak Japanese when they are 2, and can read when they are 3, etc. etc……’s endless the lies that you will tell us and yourself…..


For what purpose?

Nobody cares.

And by the way – nobody cares about any of it – but especially how you handle pain during what is essentially a medical procedure.

Maybe I should start just walking around telling people about how I manage my pain.

“Yesterday I had a migraine and I didn’t take anything to make myself feel better!!!””

“I had to get stitches the other day and I didn’t let the nurse use any numbing cream!”

“I had a cavity filled the other day and I refused Novocaine!!”

“I’m awesome!! ”

“Pain is awesome!!”

I am pretty sure people would tell me I am a stupid asshole.

Also – what possible difference does this make in the scheme of things? 

I know plenty of mothers that make announcements about how they didn’t have an epidural, or they make their own baby food, or they only use organic laundry detergent…then they drop that baby like a hot potato to go to work, the gym, and “Moms Night Out.”

The baby doesn’t give two shits about your epidural lady…I hate to break it to you.

What matters is that you do your best as a parent.  There are a lot of rough days ahead, days that you will doubt yourself, doubt your decisions, doubt your abilities as a mother.

There are days that you might cry not once, not twice…….too many times to count.

Oh and by the way – even though you think you know everything – you actually might not even know why you are crying. 

Things actually can get that bad.

But on those days when you are covered in vomit, and changing your 10th diaper of the day, and you are so tired you can’t even speak, and you haven’t had a shower in days, and you want to murder your husband, and your boobs hurt, maybe you will find comfort in thinking back on that glorious day when you pushed a baby out of your vagina and felt every ounce of pain.



Waiting for the other shoe to drop….

Wednesday morning I quickly open my eyeballs when I hear the sound of the phone ringing.  I look at the clock. It is 7 am.

A phone call at 7 am can never be good.

Unfortunately, a long time ago, I dropped one of my cordless phones down the toilet – and never replaced it.   Now, when I need to answer the phone downstairs either I have to run for my life or miss it.

I jumped out of bed and ran for my life.

It was my best friend’s mother – who has been quite the bearer of bad news lately.  My stomach turned as I reached for the phone.

“Hi, Lady – when are you working this week – I want to meet up with you….”

I breathed a sigh of relief.  A work-related question is manageable.  Not ideal at the crack of dawn – but ok. 

The kids came meandering into the kitchen (a full half-hour before their alarms were set to go off) and I started their breakfast while I made small-talk with BF’s mom.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang.

It was now 7:15.


I hung up abruptly and started to go towards the door, with my kids on my heels.  They were yelling that they wanted to answer the door – while my mind raced through all the possible scenarios that could go down when I answered the door. 

I yelled “I will answer it!!” as I approached the door – and as a final act of desperation – my son grabbed the back of my tank-top to try to pull me back away from the doorknob.  The straps of my shirt went askew and my boobs started to pop out.  I grabbed my boobs and looked up at the semi-circle of glass at the top of the door to see … brother!!!

I couldn’t make this shit up if I tried. 

I just finished blogging about how this poor guy saw my boob last week !!

He was dropping something off before work.  It was now 7:20 am.

The day progressed.  I had plans to meet for a playdate at a park with a preschool friend of Sam’s, and then hit the grocery store and then be back to grab Michael off of the bus by 2:00.

It was a nice day – so park time went a little longer than planned and then I raced to the store, (which was Stew Leonard’s so it wasn’t very easy to do.)   I grabbed a piece of pizza for Sam to eat in the car on the way home and made it home with 20 minutes to spare. I shoved some cold cuts in my mouth and put the groceries away.

I was about to go pick up Michael from the bus and bring him directly to CCD when the phone rang.  It was the nurse calling to say that Michael had been in a scuffle during recess that caused him to hit his head on the ground and resulting in a huge egg on his temple.


As I spoke to her I opened my email quickly, I had 5 minutes until the bus would arrive. 

This is what I saw:



Hi  Mrs. Gaga,

Michael’ s shoes are starting to wear down in the front and he said he’s tripping over it.  Do you have extra shoes or boots at home that you could bring for him?
I could also cut the piece of the shoe that is hanging off (but it is quite large and is the part that covers his toes).
I might just use some packaging tape for now..
Let me know what you think!
Needless to say this email was being read as Michael’s bus was turning the corner.   The email was sent in the morning and I had never checked my email! So now my son had to walk around with duct tape shoes all day!!  

Now because I haven't checked my email and spent my time picking out prepared foods at Stew Leonard's all day - My child has to walk around like a homeless person....Mr. Gaga is going to kill me.

I essentially hung up on the nurse and fainted from the shame of the situation. I ran out to the bus.   I could not imagine that I was so oblivious – such  a bad mother that I missed this.  That his shoes that I bought a mere 4 MONTHS ago from NORDSTROM were so destroyed that teachers send me special messages begging for replacement shoes!! 
I am not a complete derelict – it’s not like I got him crappy shoes from the 5 and dime!!   I mean I’m not trying to be cheap – but I would like to get a mere 6 months out of a pair of sneakers – so I really hadn’t paid much attention to his shoes. 
The irony was not lost on me that this was happening a week after I essentially abandoned my family for two weeks to work in Manhattan.  So maybe I am just not as on top of things as I should be……but still.  I think I would notice if my kid’s shoes were falling apart.
When Michael came off the bus I was shocked.
This is what his shoe looked like:

I mean I'm not saying I send my kids to school in Louboutins but this is ridiculous.....


The teacher had decided against the duct tape for some reason – so Michael just walked around with a huge airplane wing hanging off the side of this shoe.

I have never been so mortified.  His teacher must think I am insane, but I swear the shoes were normal when he left in the morning…..

I must master this whole working while simultaneously caring for others thing…..It’s really not as easy as it looks…..

First she made me wear broken shoes, then she stopped bathing me she doesn't feed me. Things haven't been the same since she went to NY for work....


Making my bed and sleeping in it….

This past week I finished a project that had me coming home Wednesday night from NYC at 1:30 am.  I turned off my son’s alarm in hopes we could all sleep in, miss the bus, and I could bring him to school late. (How much really gets done in the first 2 hours of first grade anyways?)

So – of course – Sam came into my room at 6:30 am.


If I play dead maybe he will leave. 

“Mom!!” he said louder.

“Hhmmp.” I grumbled.

“Mom – I can see your butt crack and your underwear.”

Somebody make him stop talking!!!

“Mom, do you know there’s something you can buy that goes on under your shirt… covers your butt and your belly.”

“Hmmm, Hmmm.” I answered.

“and even if you reach high up for something on a high shelf…..your belly and butt still don’t show…….you should buy it.”

So while I was gone – he has seen extensive infomercials…….I’m up.  Today is going to be horrible.

You know your muffin-top is out of control when your 4-year-old tells you to buy a “trendy-top wrap.” Note the photo to the far-left where the woman is “reaching for something on a high shelf.”

So that day was rough.  I was so tired I felt sick.  The feeling was very familiar – like a feeling I had long ago in a past life…..

When did I feel this bad before??

Oh right, it was the time I spent 4 years straight either pregnant and/or breastfeeding a newborn.  That was the kind of tired that nobody can explain to you.  It was just sleep deprivation to the core of your soul that takes years to recover from.  That period of time did irreparable damage to my body and soul.

What I learned this week is that I’m too old for this shit.

I think that little 4-year stint really did a number on me – and now I NEED SLEEP.

When I was done breastfeeding my second child, close to 5 years ago!!!  I told Mr. Gaga I would never wake up in the night again.  I explained to him that I had done my duties and now I needed to sleep.  He kind of agreed or ignored me or something – but what he didn’t realize (I didn’t realize it either to be honest) is that at that moment – something in my brain and my eardrums clicked off. 

I never woke up in the night again.

I cannot be woken up.

It’s a problem.

A few months into this new development, I remember coming downstairs to see a glaring Mr. Gaga.

“Aren’t mothers supposed to have some sort of maternal instincts that make them want to help their kids?” he asked with disgust.

“Um yeah – why?” I asked with trepidation.

“Well last night Sam called for you like 30 times, and you never came.  Then he gave up and started calling for Dora to save him….don’t you think that’s a problem?”

“What? I had no idea!! I didn’t hear him!!” I protested.

That was like 4 years ago – and things have not gotten better.

When we have stayed at my parents’ house overnight I share a room with Sam (who has night terrors and screams bloody murder every night.)  Needless to say I sleep right through all of his shenanigans.  

My father who is in his 60’s, exhausted, and sleeps on another floor of the house with his door shut – will come running in from his room in the middle of the night.

“LADY!! LADY!!” he will yell at me to wake up.


“Sam has been screaming and crying for like 15 minutes!!! Don’t you hear him??”

I think we all know the answer to that question.

The icing on the cake was when we went away last year with my brother and his wife and daughter.  One of the nights we didn’t have enough room; so Mr. Gaga and I slept on the couches in the living room and the kids slept on an air-mattress right in front of the couch.

Like an inch away.

So the next morning, I heard rustling in the kitchen.  I hopped up, stretched and made my way to the coffee.  The kids were eating with my brother and his family.

My brother looked at me with disgust when I sat down at the table.

“What?” I asked.

“You are a horrible mother.” he said with disdain.

I am used to these kind of negative remarks from him, so I wasn’t too fazed.

“Why now?” I asked with boredom perusing the morning paper.

“Well – when Sam screamed at the top of his lungs for 20 minutes right next to your face and you didn’t wake up – I decided to come out and help him.”

“Oh thanks.” I said.

“Yeah – great – except that when I  leaned down to tuck him into his blankets, I realized that your tank top was askew and your entire boob was out.”

I choked on my coffee and spit it out with laughter.

“Oh, sorry about that.”

Let’s face it – nobody wants to wake up for someone else’s kid in the first place – and on top of that – nobody wants to see their sister’s boob.

To add insult to injury it’s not like my boobs are like Pamela Anderson’s!  As I have mentioned before – my children have deformed my body from top to bottom – but my boobs have taken the greatest hit.

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….

Alas, this whole motherhood situation is exhausting, and apparently I cannot survive without a solid night’s sleep anymore.  It will take me three weeks to recover from that week in New York.

I keep realizing new ways in which I am old…….and tired.

Will we ever not be tired again? Or is this the end of the road?

Will we wake up at 50 and like Oprah say “I feel great – I’ve never felt better!”?

I have a sneaking suspicion….that only happens to Oprah.

I know you probably don’t want to vote for someone who flashes her brother and ignores her children’s cries for help – but I am helping everyone around me to develop strong coping mechanisms!!!  Please click the banner below!! XO, LADY GOO GOO GAGA

Lady Goo Goo Gaga is One!

Last week marked a solid year since I started this little blog. I have really enjoyed sharing my stories – and because I am an anonymous blogger – I have enjoyed finding out randomly that people are reading and enjoying (like last week in a line for a wake someone secretly asked me if I was Lady Goo Goo Gaga and when I confessed she was so excited.) It was like I was famous!! But it’s hard being famous – because many of you have said that you look forward to reading on Monday mornings – and sometimes it’s a little bit of pressure. Sometimes I am tired on a Sunday night, or sometimes I have had too much wine, but I feel an obligation to my fans to put something up each week!!

Besides being a local secret celeb – I have made some great connections with other bloggers and learned a lot about blogging by reading and stalking other blogs.

So it is perfect timing after a year of blogging that I finally get some awards!! Thanks to my friend at the frugalistablog  – (who states on her blog that she loves makeup and shoes – so we might be besties if she lived closer) I have been recognized as a super important blogger, and one of the awards even is called the “Sunshine Award,” which clearly is an error – since nobody has ever mentioned that word about me before – but I’ll take it!!!

Apparently all of this award giving has strict bylaws and guidelines which are stated below – but most importantly I get to pass along the awards to bloggers who have shown me the way this year while I was getting my feet wet in the blogosphere.

The Sunshine, Candle Lighter, and Liebster Awards require me to thank Frugalista  – (check) – Post the news of my awards (check) – and then pass along to other bloggers (see below.)
The Sparkly Ten Commandments require a little more work – I have to answer questions too!  Here goes……So here goes:

1.Describe yourself in seven words:

Funny, sarcastic, intense, tired, hard-working, neurotic, can I say tired again?

2.What keeps you up at night?

Basically nothing – I breastfed both of my children who were born 18 months apart – so essentially didn’t sleep for approximately 3 solid years with no reprieve.  When I was done breastfeeding I told Mr. Gaga – I would never wake up in the night again – and I meant it.  Something clicked in my brain and my eardrums and I pass out cold every night and I hear nothing and I never wake up ……Never…’s actually a problem.

3.Whom would you like to be?

4. What are you wearing now? Juicy pants from 10 years ago and a t-shirt.

5.What scares you? I don’t love traveling, I am petrified of accidents.

6.What are the best and worst things about blogging?
I love when people tell me that they like the blog or that a particular story was something they could relate to.   I hate when I am tired and it’s Sunday night at 9:30 and I have to get started.

7.What was the last website you looked at?
8.If you could change one thing about yourself what would it be?
I would like to be thinner and richer and tanner – is that too shallow???

9.Slankets, yes or no? NO!   A million percent NO! 
10.Tell us something about the person who nominated you.
She actually doesn’t know this – but we have something very random in common – but we both have anonymous blogs – so I guess we can never tell!!

Now for the 10 blogs I would like to forward these awards on to – I have so enjoyed them over the past months and hope you might check them out too…

1 – Let me start by saying

2 – Lola is 40

3 – Frogs in my Formula

4 – Wait in the Van

5 – Ava Grace’s Closet

6 – My blog can beat up your blog

7 – Other side of the road

8 – Funny or Snot

9 – Ninja Mom

10 – Naragansett Number 7

Thanks for a great year!! XO, Lady goo goo gaga

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