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Monthly Archives: July 2012

Summer Olympics 2022

We were watching the swimming competition last night and I said to Sam “Maybe one day you will be able to swim like that.”

“Nope,” he answered matter-of-factly as he left the room.  Over his shoulder he added, “I will NEVER go to the Olympics.”

I watched him leave the room and was tempted to give a speech about perseverance and “never saying never,” but I stopped myself.  I started to think about the possibilities for him and his brother, and as I really started to ponder it, I started to get a little nervous.

If you really think about this generation of children going to the Olympics, “never” is a quite accurate word.

It truly seems a bit unrealistic, and quite frankly, they could very well have to get rid of the whole thing all together.

Think about it….

For starters, there’s no way in hell these fat-ass fruit snack and McDonald’s eating-kids are going to grow up to be svelte Olympians.

The categories of sports would have to change dramatically.

First things first – this generation isn’t exactly the best at riding bikes.  I cannot tell you how many SECOND GRADE BOYS come to my house and announce they don’t know how to ride a bike.  In their defense they are probably very busy playing Mario Kart and watching Star Wars.  However, there will definitely have to be some allowances made for this problem.

I think this could work…..

There could never be any spiking during beach volleyball – that would be waaayyy too violent.  The ball would have to be lovingly tapped from side to side.

The ping-pong and tennis would have to be the virtual Wii sports versions, because the children of today surely don’t even know about the live version.  It could be held in some sort of fancy basement.

The swimming and diving would definitely be problematic.  I’m pretty sure the diving category would have change.  The kids today are pretty fat and are mostly too scared to dive.  That is the perfect recipe for an awesome “Cannon-ball competition.”

As for the swimming piece, I know that my kids are not the only ones who cry and refuse to go to swimming lessons.  However, I am the only mother who screams at them to get back into the pool.

If I had a dime for every time another mother told me “Johnny doesn’t know how to swim, because he just never liked to put his head underwater!!” I would be a rich woman.

It’s fairly safe to say this generation won’t be producing many Olympic swimmers, so the only thing to do would be to allow floaties.

He might be embarrassed that his mother made him wear his “swimmies” to the competition – but better safe than sorry!!!

The balance beam would have to be lowered significantly, it’s much too high!!! What if they fell off? They could break their neck!!

Also, with childhood obesity such an issue today – I envision many of today’s children growing up to be sadly obese adults.  These children would never be able to do some of the gymnastic moves on the floor and they surely would never be able to swing their massive bodies up and around a bar.

The rules would have to change to allow for spotters who would be responsible for hoisting the huge bodies up onto the bars.

Once they were up on the bar it would mostly likely break into splintereens from the weight-so the bars would have to be reinforced with titanium rods to ensure that they could remain intact.

Once all the equipment was tweaked, and these little angels were done with their routine  – God help the person that thinks he’s going to announce a winner.

There would have to be a change, so that every race or competition could end in a tie.

If there was ever a “winner” that would mean that the other competitors would be considered “losers” and then they would all start crying.

What do you mean I lost? You guys are assholes…..I want my mommy.

After years of this entitled, pampered generation getting a trophy or medal for just showing up – we couldn’t expect to just give out ONE GOLD MEDAL!!???

He better pass that shit around……If he doesn’t ‘share’ with the other swimmers…there’s going to be a lot of angry moms on his tail…

With that in mind – it would probably be best to just get rid of the judges completely.  They wouldn’t be able to do much.

If they took points away from someone there’s a pretty good shot that he or she would start crying and have a complete temper tantrum.  If that happened, then the judges will have to face all of the helicopter parents that will be at the judging table arguing and requesting that the judges give their children better scores.

Granted, at this point in time, the competitors will be approximately 18 and that will put the “helicopter parents” at about 60, but I am sure they will be just as feisty as ever.

There are millions of reasons why the children being raised today will never see Olympic Gold – so be sure to enjoy these 2012 Summer Olympics – as we just never know when it will all be a thing of the past.


Please click on the banner below so I can win the “Funniest Mom Blog” title –

Like children today …..I don’t take losing well.



Thanks everyone for last week’s outpouring of anger and resentment towards the “Pottery Barn People,” it’s great to know that I am not the only one who finds their catalogue frustrating and disturbing!!

I was so looking forward to today – because I have been so busy that I haven’t had a chance to get fully into “beach mode.” Today was a perfect 10 weather-wise and I had nothing planned except relaxing and enjoying myself to the fullest.

I settled in to enjoy the day and was quickly derailed by numerous annoying human beings.

Here’s a quick review of the


1 – SPRAY SPF – As soon as I sat down I was met with a gust of wind carrying someone’s SPF 50.  Listen everybody – the spray sunscreens don’t work.  They spray the person behind you. Period, end of story.  For those parents that think they are doing a great job by “spraying their kids with SPF” – you are not.  Stop being lazy and stupid – suck it up and rub lotion on your dang kids, so I don’t end up with Water Babies SPF 50 in my mouth.

2 – BAD TATTOOS – I looked up from my book this afternoon for a second and saw the most god-awful tattoo.  I understand that everyone isn’t classy like Lady Goo Goo Gaga who has a chinese symbol “tramp stamp” from the 90’s – but really?

So let me get this straight…You love smiley faces so much that you turned one into an Aerosmith symbol and inked it in the middle of your back?

We get it – we all have had bad nights where we get blacked-out drunk and make poor choices, but have you heard of a racer back tankini? Cover that shit up.

3 -BEACH ETIQUETTE OFFENDERS: I understand the importance of good beach real estate on a sunny Sunday morning.  This is why I wake up on the early side and tell Mr. Gaga he has to go set up “our spot” with 6 beach chairs, an umbrella, towels and all other beach necessities.  (Since he’s a great guy – he does it for me.)

After such great organization and efforts from the GAGA household to secure our area – there’s nothing more annoying to arrive at the beach a few hours later to find that people have set up camp mere inches away from our stuff.

Give me some space!! If you decide to sleep in – guess what you are at the back of the beach.  Don’t just drop your shit on top of mine.  Have some proper beach etiquette!

4 – POOR PREPARATION: – Parents need to bring what their children need to the beach.  I would love nothing more than to grab a towel, a magazine and a bottle of Hawaiian Tropic SPF 4 Dry oil and head to the beach like I did in my youth.

Those days are over because I have children.  So instead,  I bring a huge “Wonder Wheeler 2000” overflowing with toys and then I make the kids carry their huge surfboards and inflatables to ensure they have what they need to be thoroughly entertained.

See how hard my kids are working to bring their stuff to the beach? They aren’t working so hard so that you can bring nothing for your kids and then they can just play with all of our stuff…..

5 – CHILDREN WHO SAY “I’m Bored.”

So after working so hard to ensure that there are a million toys and inflatable items available for the children, not to mention a huge ocean and endless amounts of sand – there’s nothing more infuriating than whiney annoying children coming up to me while I am trying to relax, and telling me “They are bored.”

See the lady in the corner…that’s me and the whiney rotten kids next to her are saying they are bored….

I see red.

“You’re bored? Do you know there are children in Kansas that have never even seen a beach?”

“Yeesss,” they say emotionlessly.

“Then don’t say that to me again.”

“We just don’t know what to do!” Michael whines.

“Oh – Ok, then where’s a safety pin,” I say getting up from my chair, “I’ll just pop all these tubes and rafts since you don’t like them anymore.”

“Noo!!!” they will scream making their way back towards the water.

When I get to the beach I am literally dripping with sweat and my arms are about to break off of my body.

DO NOT tell me you are bored.

6 -BEACHED WHALES: This is a strange phenomenon that I notice time and again.  Young overweight people lay down at the edge of the water and let the waves crash on to them like they are beached whales.  It’s sad because they aren’t playing with other children and they seem like they like the water to crash on to their whale-like bodies and wash their troubles away. I want to go to them and say “Get up!! Swim a lap or two!!! This is how you got into this beached whale situation in the first place!!”

7 – INAPPROPRIATE BEACH ATTIRE – We all know that Speedos are unacceptable.  Another offense is men who come to the beach with socks on.  Worse than either of those to me is the “Swim-shirt wearing Dad.”

Listen dude – they have invented SPF 70 for Christ’s sakes – there’s no need for this SPF shirt.  It’s weird. It’s not flattering. It screams “nerd.” That goes for the women offenders as well.

Look at these two. Nobody should ever look like this in public. It’s just rude to the public, it’s not fair to our eyeballs.

8 – Jellyfish Criers – I include my kids in this category.  Michael came crying to me today for the first of many jellyfish stings this summer.  You know how I feel about unnecessary crying.  I peered over my US Weekly and looked at his arm, where the sting was.

“Go rub wet sand on it.” I said casually, and attempted to go back to my Tom Kat article.

“NNOOOO!!! ITT HUUUURRRTTTSS!!” he wailed.  I threw my magazine in my bag with disgust and played along with his issues.

Look – it’s the Long Island Sound people.  This is not JAWS.  It’s not even Florida where there are actual “man o wars.”

Suck it up and stop crying.

9 – Small boys with “Man boobs” – I know that childhood obesity is an issue in this country – but today I witnessed a new level of neglect.  Two boys were playing in the water that were approximately 10 or 11 and they both had full breasts.  It wasn’t just a little bit of excess fat.  Apparently high fructose corn syrup + hours of inactivity and video games + hormones in our food = a need for a bikini top.

The poor kids are not to blame – yet again it’s the parents who allow their young boys to walk around with a pair of tits the size of Texas.


There are some people who are multiple offenders and this is just too much.  These people should invest in a backyard pool and stay away from the beach.

Here is an example of someone showing us their ugly tattoos, Speedo and man boobs. The person to the right just sprayed him with SPF 30 and it all went right back into her face.

None of the things on this list will ever deter me from actually going to the beach of course!!! But just love to share and vent!! PLEASE CLICK THE BANNER BELOW TO VOTE FOR THIS BLOG!!

Mothers making lunches…..or not

Like you – I have noticed a pattern here – where I continually talk about sandwiches.   Apparently they play a major role in my life…. what can I say.

When I was very young, my mother decided that I was quite independent and capable.

Upon discovering my love of “doing things myself,” she rearranged her kitchen cabinets and moved all of the cereal to the lowest cabinet.  She taught me how to pour milk and make a sandwich for lunch.  Once the basic survival skills were mastered she informed me and my brother that she would no longer be available in the mornings.

From that point on, we were responsible for getting ourselves up in the morning, getting dressed and ready for school, making breakfast and making ourselves lunch, and getting to the bus stop on time.  To our credit (and hers) we managed to do this pretty much without incident.   We never missed the bus and I don’t remember feeling neglected or abandoned in any way, even though the very first cereal I remember preparing for myself looked like this….

Fast forward to modern times when I have my own children and I have spent countless hours up at the crack of dawn preparing meals and snacks.  Reflecting back on that time – it seems just a bit outrageous.

It’s a topic of conversation that she doesn’t enjoy, yet my brother and I bring it up constantly.  It usually goes like this….

“Mom – remember when you announced that you were never waking up again – and we had to make our own lunch?”

She usually rolls her eyes…..”Oh – like you had such a bad life?  I think you’re fine.”

“Yes – I’m fine – but it was little ridiculous that you weren’t up with us…”

“Oh, poor you…yes – you had it sooo bad. Did you have a good life? Did your father and I send you to college and give you a nice wedding?”

“Mom – that’s not the point – I am just saying – it was crazy to expect us to do everything by ourselves….we were like 2.”

“I was helping you to become more independent…..Like it’s so hard to pour a bowl of cereal?”

“Well it’s not – but when you are 4-years-old the gallon of milk is a little bit heavy.”

Usually it’s by this point in the conversation that she has left the room or hung up on me.

While I do think her morning routine was completely unacceptable, I am secretly envious of her 1970’s “laid back” parenting style.

Imagine just simply not waking up in the morning and sleeping in with no worries about what your children will wear, eat for breakfast or eat for lunch? How luxurious!

While I know that those days of parenting are long gone – never to return, I received full confirmation this week when I opened my Pottery Barn Kids Fall Gear 2012 Catalogue.

To start off I should have known I was in trouble when the catalogue started off with a picture of a preschooler carrying a backpack.

The “Pottery Barn people” must have really brain-stormed to come up with an image of a child that everyone could relate to.

It was only logical that they decided on a photo of a small child carrying 250 pounds of school supplies in a bag that is as big as he is, outside on the grounds of what appears to be……Harvard?

Oh yeah – and of course his name is Penn…What else would it be? And I am sure we could all agree that yellow suede loafers are the obvious choice for 4-year-old boys.

OK – so on to the lunch bag section of the catalogue.  Of course modern-day parenting dictates that all snacks and lunches must be presented to children in fancy canvas totes with their names on it in bold text accompanied by an image of Darth Vader or Spider Man.

Gone are the days of the brown paper lunch bag.

Also, in the classic style of Pottery Barn, who historically since its inception seemed to make its mission as a company to make housewives and mothers feel badly about the state of things in their home……the “Pottery Barn People” have presented their impression of what a child’s lunch should look like.

Apparently their idea of a “lunch” drastically differs from mine.

Is this what my kids are supposed to see when they open their fancy lunch tote with 55 zippers and compartments?

Because that will never happen….

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 the other kindergarteners had any doubts if Blair’s mother loved her – I think it will be very clear now……

So … I am thinking I’m a great mother because I sometimes heat up Progresso soup in the morning and put it into a Batman thermos for Michael.

Once again – I am wrong.  I am not mother of the year – in fact I might be the worst mother in America – according to Pottery Barn Kids.

As I kept reading – it became clear that I am, as I suspected, a very, very bad mother.  I might as well just stay in bed like my mother…..because I have not once shaped sandwiches into a tic tac toe game smartly utilizing carrot shreds and pieces of grapes.

In the town where I grew up – If I ever opened up a lunch to reveal a tic tac toe game made out of sandwiches, I would get my ass kicked and my new name would be “Tic Tac” until I graduated highschool…..

Just when I was about to throw the catalogue in the garbage something caught my eye.

Wait – could this be true?

I know that good mothers are ones that send in little notes with their children’s lunch.   I have been known to even send a note here or there.

But could it be possible that Pottery Barn Kids is SELLING IN THEIR CATALOGUE, something called “Lunch Box Love Notes.”

So – if you are too lazy or dumb to write out your own note to your child – no worries!! Pottery Barn has done it for you!!!

Thank you Mom for sleeping the day away and never sending me to school with a miniature sandwich with a yellow tomato ball and a queer love note on top of it.

Please notice the green note  in the bottom right-hand corner.

So in case your kids is telling horrible stories at the lunch table – and the other kids are staring blankly at him – or saying something like “That story sucked,” – your note will be there to save the day!!

God forbid the 6 hour school day goes by without these children receiving some undeserving accolades from their mother!!

I actually perused the catalogue for a minute – thinking it would be nice to have the notes ready to go in the drawer in the morning.  Maybe I would buy some, but I searched through the whole thing and couldn’t find any that were my kind of notes…..

Really?? It’s not enough that this lunch consists of yuca chips and cherry tomatoes? If my mother ever put a note in my lunch that said I was a “kind person” I would kill her.

I usually write things like:

“Hope you are having a nice day Michael – by the way the shirt you’re wearing is from Nordstrom – so if you rip your clothes at recess again today you are punished for a week.”


“Hi Love bug – don’t forget – if that bully bothers you again remember how Daddy told you to punch him right in the face!! Have a great day :)”


“If your friend offers to share his fruit snacks today, you are not allowed to eat them. This is why he already had a root canal when he was 4 – you will thank me later :)”

I guess I will be writing my own notes this school year…..


There’s no place like home

When I was growing up, my two favorite movies were Weekend at Bernie’s and Overboard.  They are similar in that they both take place in the summer….one on a yacht and one in a huge mansion on the beach. I know every word to those movies, and it seemed perfectly logical to me that one day I too would party in a huge beach house (preferably not with a dead guy) and would some day ask my servant, “Are you going to get my lemonade or am I going to have to squeeze it from my hat?”

While these fantasies were not realistic to begin with – they were officially down the drain when I decided to have children.  The hope of one day hopping off a jet ski in a bikini and heading up to party at Bernie’s officially died after I had my first child.

What I hadn’t anticipated was that my life would take such a turn for the worse that I would actually end up attending a “family resort” in the Poconos on a lake……with my in-laws.  Mr. Gaga and his family and friends visited this “resort” every year while he was growing up, and it’s all they talk about it since I met him.

Because I am a great wife and mother – when Mr. Gaga’s sister planned a reunion of sorts at this facility I agreed to go.

If I thought they talked about it a lot before – they really wouldn’t shut up about it now. I would usually just zone out completely when they told the same stories over and over again about the delicious food and the fun nights at karaoke.

I believe it was Thanksgiving when I was hosting dinner for 30 people who my mother-in-law started talking about all of  the “delicious homemade food” that we would be eating at Central House in July.

“Well – like what?” I asked, not fully engaged in the conversation, as I frantically made gravy and stirred mashed potatoes.

“Oh – like for lunch they will serve Swedish meatballs and potatoes…” she said with joy and excitement.

I stopped stirring and stared at her closely to see if she was kidding.

She wasn’t.

I am sure everyone in America except Mr. Gaga’s relatives realizes that “Swedish Meatballs” isn’t a meal at all….let alone one that should be served during July in a “resort.” In fact are they even FDA approved?  I thought they were just something weird that they served at Ikea as a snack, but there’s no talking to these people.

“But – what will I do?  I can’t eat that!! I will starve to death!”  I answered my mother-in-law.

She laughed hysterically…”Oh, I’m sure they have salad or something.”

As we inched past November I kind of forgot about the Swedish meatball resort.  As the school year was winding down and summer was fast-approaching I realized that I was really going to Kellerman’s and I started to worry.

A couple of weeks before we went I told my best friend about it.  When I was finished describing the facility there was complete silence on the other end.

“Hello?” I spoke into the phone.

“I don’t know what to say……You will have to just pretend you are on Survivor.” she answered.

“I know, I am pretending I am going to rehab for exhaustion like Lindsay Lohan, and I am just going to read a lot.”

So that was the plan.

Because this is an anonymous blog, and you don’t all really know me, I worry sometimes that you don’t necessarily have a clear image of who I really am.  I gave you glimpse when I told you that people always compare me to Carrie from King of Queens, and at the very least if you are a regular reader you know that I am Italian and that I take food VERY seriously.  Let me now add to those details – that I am NOT a lover of nature and live in constant fear of bacterial infections and Legionnaire’s Disease, so lakes are not my friend.

So just for a quick recap – I went to an old motel in the woods resort on a lake that served old-fashioned comfort food 3 meals a day that was prepared by a man named Fred.

You do see how this could be problematic?

I decided that only way to survive was to completely go with the flow.  When Mr. Gaga demanded that we be there on Saturday in time for lunch, I agreed.  I figured I would be entering into a scene straight out of Dirty Dancing, and I was mentally prepared for it.

I’m gonna have fun and you’re gonna have fun. We’re all gonna have so much fucking fun we’ll need plastic surgery to remove our goddamn smiles. You’ll be whistling ‘Zip-A-Dee Doo-Dah’ out of your assholes!

So imagine my shock and horror when upon arrival we drove in and saw my mother-in-law waving in front of the “North Lodge” where we would be residing for the next 4 days.

I have never stayed in a motel before, but now I had the distinct pleasure of staying in one in the middle of the wilderness in an adjoining room with my in-laws!!

Who needs a yacht or a dead guy’s mansion when you can live like this?!

While I stared at the building and tried to process what happened to my life.  I heard bells ringing in the background.  I shuffled along with the crowd to the “dining hall” as the bells were to alert us that it was lunchtime.

Upon entering the dining hall I was met with this sign:

I mean – I can’t even make this stuff up. What should a human think when they read a board like this? I thought “roast beef” was a sandwich that I hate – I didn’t know it could be a dinner….and what the fuck is a “Bird of Prey?”

We sat at our assigned table and our waitress introduced herself and informed us that she would also be teaching Zumba in the mornings and wearing a poodle skirt and teaching hula hoop lessons on 50’s night.  I accepted this completely because I knew that the staff at Kellerman’s in Dirty Dancing served drinks and food when they weren’t dancing.  I ate my lunch and then made my way with the kids to the pool and hot tub.  It wasn’t fancy but the kids loved it and I figured I could lounge by the pool all week and it would be ok.  As I got settled on my lounge chair I started to read my magazines.  After I read the same page over and over again, I realized something wasn’t quite right about the hot tub.

There was a group of mothers and children in the “hot tub.”

They were all loud.

They were all fat and ugly.

They were splashing and getting water on my US Weekly.

But wait….I looked a little closer….I sat up and pushed my sunglasses to the top of my head so I could really stare at these disgusting people….could it be?

Could they be actually eating ice cream and cupcakes in a hot tub??

What kind of animals am I living in this motel with?

Disgusted, I was saved by the dinner bell.   After eating a nice dinner roll and salad it was time to go watch the “Birds of Prey”show which was basically an insane old man talking about and showing his bird collection.

The next morning, exhausted from the day before I was happily sleeping when I heard bells clanging.

It was 7:30 am.

Oh – did I not mention that there is a daily 7:30 a.m. wake-up bell on this “VACATION?”

So off we go back to the dining hell… see this:

Don’t come to the Swedish Meatball Resort if you plan on eating anything healthy or not straight out of the 1950’s. Please note the time span in between meals – you have exactly 4 hours to digest Thanksgiving dinner before you are eating again…..

After another morning at the pool in the blazing 95 degree heat, before we knew it the fucking bells were ringing again, and off we went in our bathing suits from the steamy heat of summer into the dining room to be met with turkey, gravy, mashed potatoes and stuffing.

That’s normal and appropriate right?

I will tell you right now – If I ever am lucky enough to live in my dead boss’ beach house, I am going to have fresh fruits and salads for lunch….maybe an occasional piece of grilled chicken.

NEVER will I have a full-fledged THANKSGIVING DINNER in the middle of the fucking day in the middle of a heat-wave!!

So off we waddled back to the pool and much to my chagrin – the cupcake eaters were back in the hot tub.

Apparently these people were not participating in the meal plan in the dining facility.

When I looked at them this time -I couldn’t believe my eyes.

They were eating BEEF KABOBS in the HOT TUB.

The “vacation” progressed this way the entire time.  By the last day I was ready to leave for sure.   We left at 5:30 am on the 4th of July to be sure we were back for the bike parade at the beach.

I was so happy to have survived.

The next day my sister-in-law texted me to tell me I missed the best day.

Swedish meatballs for lunch and prime rib for dinner.

As Melissa Gorga would say, “Thank you Jesus.”

It’s not a dead guy’s mansion or a freshly squeezed glass of lemonade from the servant on my yacht….but sometimes it’s the little things in life……

Linking to Only Parent Chronicles


Carrying a Watermelon and other things I don’t want to do……

This week I am reposting my Independence Day post from last year.
I am taking off this week but I will have plenty of material for next week.

Before I married Mr. Gaga, (because we are complete opposites) there were a few things we needed to discuss before we could really move forward with any sort of long-term commitment.

#1 – At the time, (before he ever lived with me and realized the error of his ways) – he claimed his favorite meal to be TUNA NOODLE CASSEROLE! I made it clear to him in no uncertain terms that this meal would never be served or consumed in my presence.

#2 – At the time, he resided in Long Island and thought it would be quite enjoyable and great if we settled down there. I made it clear to him in no uncertain terms that due to my dislike of traffic coupled with the fact that a small shack could cost millions, we would NEVER live on Long Island.

#3 – At the time, he claimed one of his favorite past-times to be camping. I made it clear to him in no uncertain terms that I had never stayed in nor would I ever stay in a “nylon facility” in the woods.

#4 – During said negotiations, he cited a facility in the Poconos as a back-up plan instead of camping. He claimed this facility provided meals, rooms, and a pool, so couldn’t really be considered anything like camping, but instead a family “resort” with tons of activities for children. I kind of left that one open for discussions later when we had children, since I wanted to marry the guy and didn’t want to shoot down every plan he had for our future.

After 11 years of blissful marriage void of casseroles and camping I am currently at a facility in the Poconos that is the closest thing to camping that I have ever experienced ……oh yes and we are with my in-laws, as well.

So when I am safely home next week I will tell you all about my adventures, until then enjoy my “10 wishes for Independence Day.”



1 – My children will independently solve all their problems and fights.  They will independently share the Ipad, the Leapster and all other toys and devices that we only have one of.

2 – My kids’ teachers will independently teach their classes.  When I say independently I mean with help from para-professionals and student teachers; not ME or any other mother who comes along, that would otherwise be home scrapbooking or watching “The View,” but is now magically qualified to teach reading.

 3 – My children will independently be able to walk to and wait for the bus, (while I sleep.)

4 – Max and Ruby will no longer have to live independently. (My husband wanted me to mention this, because he has a strange obsession about a children’s show that features bunnies with no parents.)

5 – Other moms and dads will look at me, size me up, and independently realize that I don’t want to talk to them or their kid.

6 – Nobody will ever say they wet the bed or they are thirsty at 6 am.  I will open my eyes when I am independently ready to wake up.

7 – My boys will remain independent for a long time (maybe until they are 30) so there won’t be any annoying, bitchy girlfriends ruining everything.

8 – The fat cells in my stomach and thighs will independently melt away, even if  I continue to eat Carvel ice cream cake and popcorn on a regular basis.

9 – My kids will independently find a spot for every little Lego, Bakugan card and itty-bitty G.I. Joe rifle in their room, and these pieces will be in said spot every night before bed.

10 – My children’s private parts will independently shoot urine into the designated toilet, without misfires on the wall, floor or hand towel.



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