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Putting the cart before the rest of us….


Well, well, well….

Remember when I posted the following, (after I went to Disney World) and many of you blasted me with hate emails????

Well, I hate to say it, but by the size of the humans that were walking around, zipping around on motorized carts, in Disney World, …. Everywhere we went we were met with hoards of overweight people with Mickey Mouse ears on and fanny packs strapped onto their motorized carts.

This is a very common scene...tremendously large humans with Mickey Mouse ears on with huge sodas....
This is a very common scene…tremendously large humans with Mickey Mouse ears on with huge sodas….These people only left their carts so they could get a good seat for the parade.

“I’m sorry did I miss the episode of the Mickey Mouse Club when Mickey announced he loved fat people and soda?” I asked Mr. Gaga. “I don’t get it.” I said to Mr. Gaga as we were making our way through the crowds of obese people.

“Well they are fat because they drink soda and the fact that they are so fat and lazy that they can’t walk doesn’t help,” he pointed out. I looked around and realized at the moment that about half of the people in the park were driving carts and half were walking. “Oh my God!” I exclaimed, “I thought everyone was injured!” Mr. Gaga stared at me like I was an idiot.

When I looked a little closer I realized nobody even had a band-aid on, let alone anything that indicated a real injury!!
When I looked a little closer I realized nobody even had a band-aid on, let alone anything that indicated a real injury!!

After a few days in the Magic Kingdom we made our way to Epcot Center. “Hey did you notice there aren’t any motorized carts here?” Mr. Gaga pointed out. “Oh yeah…I wonder why?” I said as I looked over the map of the Epcot. “Oh!! I bet we will see them in “America!”

After enjoying music, culture and food in Japan, France, Italy and Mexico I was afraid to see what “America” had to offer.

“It’s just going to be big enormous people laying on couches everywhere eating McDonalds and drinking huge sodas.” I said to Mr. Gaga as we made our way.

“Or enormous children playing video games,” Mr. Gaga offered.

We were pleasantly surprised that neither of those features were the focus of the America showcase in Epcot.

Thank God….it would be totally embarrassing if the world found out the truth about us.

It’s best to keep this little soda problem a secret between you, me, Mickey Mouse and Mayor Bloomberg.

Well it looks like even OLD MICKEY MOUSE HIMSELF recognized that these motorized carters were imposters!!

Pretending that they can’t walk so they can zip to the front of every line!!!!!

The jig is up motorized cart people.

The jig is up.

Disney World issued a statement this week that they would modify the rules that allowed everyone who is in a motorized cart to just zip in front of the 500 people who have waited in the hot sweaty lines for 2 hours.

While it is important to allow special needs children to get in front of the line – because clearly it is a priority for them – it is NOT a priority for people who abuse the system.

Funny enough – we chose this week to go to the BIG E – which is basically a the ultimate in New England fairs.  It’s much dirtier than Disney, and much less rides and much trashier food.

Also – there’s no mouse – so they make do with whatever white trash mascot they can think of.  Here – the kids begged me to play a game where they would win – what appears to be a banana that is a Rastafarian??

banana

Also – this fair is pretty big – but not nearly as big as Disney, so there aren’t as many motorized carts.

But I did take some time to actually observe the motorized carters when I saw them.

I noticed one couple had filled the basket in front of their cart with cigarettes, lighters and fried doughs.

The irony was not lost on me.

The main point of this fair is to eat ungodly things that no human should ever eat –

I kicked it off with fried pickles….

pickle

Remember when I blogged about Mr. Gaga’s Irish tendencies??

Well Mr. Gaga took it one step further by ordering this…..

balls

This is called “fried shephard’s pie” …smothered with gravy….
Yes. It’s true.

So then it was time to feed the kids.

Usual requests include burgers and pizza.

“I want one of those.” Michael said pointing to a food stand.

“Are you sure? You have never had one…..you might not like it.”

“I want one.” he said positively.

“Ok.” I answered hesitantly.

It was my first time too and it was fucking delicious.

dog

While we were on a roll with the white trash foods – I took a gamble and decided we should try one of the Big E specialties.

It’s called the Craz-E burger.

If you guessed that this was a bacon cheeseburger placed gently in between two glazed doughnuts, then you would be correct....

If you guessed that this was a bacon cheeseburger placed gently in between two glazed doughnuts, then you would be correct….

I have to say – it was pretty good!!

Now does anyone know where I can buy a motorized cart??

SORRY EVERYONE!!  BUT FAIR IS FAIR!! PLEASE CLICK THE BANNER BELOW SO I CAN BE THE NUMBER ONE FUNNIEST MOM IN AMERICA!!!

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Last night….


….I couldn’t do a blog post.

I hosted Michael’s First Communion party yesterday.

I am sharing with you my post from a few months back to refresh your memory about how this all started and then I will tell you about the party later.

Being a good Catholic is exhausting…..

No wonder the Pope quit.

REPOSTED FROM JANUARY 2013:

Michael has his First Communion coming up.

This is a big deal.

For most good Catholics it’s because it’s an important sacrament that means something important I am sure…..

For me it’s important because I have to start thinking about the food and decor I need to have for 100 people at my house, and make sure it doesn’t conflict with the millions of other obligations that we have in the spring and summer.

I had to attend an important meeting at the church this week outlining all of the details about the ceremony and also to secure a date.

First topic of discussion was First Reconciliation.  This is when the children have to go meet with the priest and confess their sins.

I remember when I had to do this as a small child, being so afraid and nervous I  as I approached the confessional with sweaty palms and a pit in my stomach.

I told the priest that I was “sometimes mean to my mother,” and he told me that if I just said the “Our Father” three times then I would be totally forgiven.

I was so relieved.

Needless to say, in this day and age, this kind of torment is not favored by parents.

Parents were raising their hands at the meeting saying “How can we be sure that the children are comfortable and not nervous?”

“Can we be 100 percent sure that the priest will tell them they are forgiven?”

“I remember being very stressed about this, I DO NOT want that for my child.”

UM HELLO???? THIS IS CATHOLICISM PEOPLE!!!

IT’S NOT MEANT TO MAKE YOU FEEL GOOD!

IT IS MEANT TO MAKE YOU FILLED WITH GUILT AND ANXIETY FOREVER.

Then of course there was the topic of wardrobe.

Of course if you saw the picture of the Dad at my son’s baseball game then you know that this is a town filled with primarily Vineyard Vines and JCrew.  Nobody wears makeup….nobody combs their daughter’s hair….I could go on for hours.

But anyways – there comes a debate about headpieces.  A bunch of mothers said “Yes” to headpieces, and then it started.

“Well, my daughter would never wear something in her hair.”

“I don’t ever make my daughter wear something she doesn’t want to!”

“Well what should I do if she says that she won’t wear it??”

I told you I didn't want to wear this headpiece MOTHER!!  I look like a WHORE! When I grow up I am being a Scientologist....

I told you I didn’t want to wear this headpiece MOTHER!! I look like a WHORE! When I grow up I am being a Scientologist!!!

 

I wanted to stand up and say “Look!! If your child is Catholic they have to make a confession to a creepy priest that could possibly be a pedophile and they have to wear a creepy bride-like head-piece that means they are marrying Jesus!! Deal with it you assholes! And if you don’t like it – then go be Jewish!! And have fun with 10 hours a week of Hebrew school and if you think our headpieces our bad – good luck with those hats and barrette clips they wear!!

NOW JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP SO I CAN SIGN UP FOR MY CEREMONY DATE AND THEN I CAN HIRE A CATERER AND ORDER A CAKE!!”

But I didn’t say that.

I just looked at my phone waiting for everyone to stop whining and complaining.

There were 2 available dates in May to have the First Communion ceremony and one is Mother’s Day.  Again, some nice Catholic mothers I am told, actually enjoy having this precious ceremony on Mother’s Day.

I am not that type of mother.

On Mother’s Day I would like to eat a nice brunch, (something a little more substantial than a communion wafer) and enjoy my life…not sit in a sweaty church for an hour and half and then entertain 100 people in my backyard.

It was imperative that I get my name on the list for the first weekend in May.

I was pretty much willing to do anything to get it.

As the “church lady” spoke I adjusted my chair to be at the best angle to pop up from it and sprint to the sign-up table. I envisioned elbowing people or tripping them to be sure that I could get up front in a speedy fashion.

At the end of the meeting, the Church Lady asked that we bow our heads and say a prayer.

She also asked that we allow her time to move from the table before we swarmed and knocked her over.

I don’t even think anyone said “Amen” at the end of the prayer and that bitch didn’t have a fighting chance of escaping.

People were fucking INSANE!!! There was no mercy!! No forgiveness!!

I witnessed no behaviors that Jesus likes!!!

These women ended up not getting the date they wanted because they had to be rushed to the emergency room..The cross above their heads is a symbol of Jesus’ death and resurrection. Jesus died on the cross for us. On nights like this one, I am sure he’s wondering if that was a bad move….

These women ended up not getting the date they wanted because they had to be rushed to the emergency room..The cross above their heads is a symbol of Jesus’ death and resurrection. Jesus died on the cross for us. On nights like this one, I am sure he’s wondering if that was a bad move….

 

I ran so fast to the table, and yet I could feel a crowd forming around me as I got to the front of the room.   People were pushing and shoving and hands were sticking into the space where the sign-up sheets were, grabbing at the pens on the table.

A pregnant friend was in front of me with a pencil ready to sign-up when we reached the table.  She was the first to get the paper, and I was behind her, I was so set.

“Give me that pencil when you are done,” I yelled in her ear above the noise of the crowd.

But as she signed her child’s name to the sheet, it was clear, that there was no way she would be able to hand me anything…..the crowd was too rough. She was jostled and pushed aside…I tried to grab for the pencil out of her hand but she got swept away.

christineb
There goes the pencil…..

I would just have to just grab the sheet myself.

A different woman had gotten control of the sheet and I pushed underneath her arms as she was writing and I quickly signed on the bottom of the sheet, in the last slot, before anyone else could think of it.

Thank you Jesus.

For understanding that it’s very important to celebrate your body in wafer-form only on specific days.

Thank you for answering my prayers and not punishing me for my sometimes less than devout behaviors…

We will be there on our desired date with bells on.

THANKS FOR UNDERSTANDING MY EXHAUSTION!!! BEING A CATHOLIC MOTHER IS VERY HARD….XO LADY GOO GOO GAGA

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Kiss me…you’re Irish


My mother is 100% Irish and my father is 100% Italian.  Same goes for Mr. Gaga.

As luck would have it, I am 100% Italian and Mr. Gaga is 100% Irish.

Being married to an Irish person can be good and bad.

Here are some indicators that your husband and children are Irish:

They can drink you under the table: – Most stereotypes don’t come out of thin air.  These people can drink all day and night with little to no repercussions.

There’s no hangover…no throwing up.

The only people who suffer are the sober people who have to be in their company.  In my case, I learned long ago that I will never be able to keep up with the Irish in the drinking department.   While my Irish girlfriends were dancing on the bar in the Bronx, I was home vomiting.

Mr. Gaga is always the life of the party…and has yet to ever wake up one morning of his life and say “I’m never doing that again.”

Irish eyes are smiling:  It’s good to be with someone who has a smiley face, like Mr. Gaga.

I definitely have something that can certainly be described as a “frowny face.”

This has proven to be off-putting.   My neighbor told me that when she first moved to the neighborhood, some lady on my street (who I spoke two words to in my life) told her about the Gaga’s.  She said  “The husband is really nice, but stay away from the wife….she’s a total bitch.”  This is a common theme.

Thankfully, sometimes it seems that the friendliness that radiates from his Irish face, kind of cancels out my bitch face…and we become a little more approachable as a couple.

Somehow this face makes people feel better after they interact with

Somehow this face makes people feel better after they interact with…

this...

this face…

 

They can fight: Yet another stereotype that just happens to be true.  Mr. Gaga is non-confrontational to a fault, but if the shit hits the fan I know he can take everyone down.  He’s very happy and nice, but if pushed too far, he can get crazy.

Don’t be fooled by his smiling eyes or his intoxication….he will fuck you up.

Their taste buds don’t work properly: I believe it is because their ancestors spent centuries gnawing on rotten potatoes in the rain or something, but both my husband and mother have taste buds that don’t function.

As a result they douse everything they eat with inappropriate seasonings and sauces.

When we all eat together my mother spends the first ten minutes of the meal “peppering her food.” While we eat, she literally sits at her seat shaking salt and pepper shakers madly.

 

I finished my dinner tonight right around the time my mother had just finished "salt and peppering" hers...Who wants to eat this much pepper????

I finished my dinner tonight right around the time my mother had just finished “salt and peppering” hers…Who in their right mind wants to eat this much pepper????

 

Mr. Gaga takes it one step further and mixes every sauce he can find together and dips his meat into it.

Needless to say, my delicious Italian food does not need this kind of treatment.  I beg him to eat food as it is prepared.  It’s heartbreaking to see him dip my chicken cutlets into this shit.

Every night he mixes all of this into a ramekin and dips food into it....Does that seem normal???

Every night he mixes all of this into a ramekin and dips food into it….Does that seem normal???

“Why are you doing this? This chicken cutlet is delicious!”

“I like it this way,” he says as he dips it into the revolting concoction.

“It’s rude to the chicken cutlet! You can’t even taste it anymore!”

I plead…to no avail.

They have blatant disregard for food:   I guess it may be due to the dysfunctional taste buds, but food is merely a means of survival for the Irish.

I could truly give my husband homemade pasta with a lobster sauce or Lucky Charms for dinner and he would be equally content either way.

It’s offensive.  However, on nights when I’m working or have had a crazy day there’s some comfort in knowing that I can offer a tunafish sandwich for supper and Mr. Gaga will be thrilled.

They are witty: In college, I lived with 7 Irish girls.  I never laughed so hard in my life.

Mr. Gaga also has been known to crack me up.

Sometimes so much so that I pee my pants.  Since I had kids….I am especially prone to having accidents.

Our first date after I had Sam, we got a babysitter and went to the movies.  When we left the theater and we were walking to the car, Mr. Gaga said something very funny.  I stopped walking, twisted my legs together to try to keep the pee in.  It didn’t work.

50 gallons of pee came pouring out in the middle of the crowds of people who were coming out of the movies, which actually just made me laugh harder.

Mr. Gaga ran away and left me.  He got his car and came back to pick me up where I stood in a pee puddle.  He found an old garbage bag in his truck and he made me wrap up in it before I sat on the seat in his truck.

We laughed the whole way home and then I snuck upstairs with my wet pants and garbage bag while he paid the babysitter.

There’s absolutely nothing better than laughter.

Because they can make people laugh, they take it too far:

Laughter is great.  The problem lies in the fact that when people think Mr. Gaga is the funniest person in the world, he starts to believe them.

When he’s out with friends or at work, he is “Mr. Personality”, shooting off one-liners and cracking jokes, and everyone thinks he’s a riot.

This was the work crowd last time he had to speak....

This was the crowd the last time he had to speak at work….

When he gets home, I am not always in the same jovial mood as his work people or his friends.  Sometimes he tries to crack the same jokes to me that worked wonderfully at work….

carrie

 

They are very white:  When you look like Snooki, you don’t expect to have to get involved with people who don’t like the sun.  Mr. Gaga sits out for a couple of hours on the beach before he starts crying and goes back in the house, and Michael wants to stay out but ends up roasting.

Caring for pasty-white children and husbands is super-annoying.  While Sam and I are tanning, the last thing we want to do is go back to the house because the other 2 annoying lobsters have sun poisoning.

This is Sam on playing on the beach.....

This is Sam playing on the beach…..

 

This is a picture of Mr. Gaga when we were in Miami...

This is a picture of Mr. Gaga when we were in Miami…

Loving the Irish can be a blessing or curse – but mostly its a blessing if you can disregard the hideous sunburns ……

HAPPY ST. PATRICK’S DAY!!!

XO, LADY GOO GOO GAGA

PLEASE CLICK THE BANNER BELOW TO VOTE FOR ME FOR FUNNIEST MOM BLOGGER!

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We have a “Situation”


Boy you people sure do have opinions about “bullet-ing” – (as one reader called it in her comment last week.) I got lots of texts and emails regarding last week’s topic and fell off the couch laughing at the SNL skit on Shades of Grey last night….If you didn’t see it – google it ASAP!!

So – apparently in Connecticut we had a tornado/hurricane/end of the world in October, then we had a mild winter, then we went straight to summer with 88 degree days in March and then went back to cold, windy fall days – and this week we apparently live in Seattle. 

It was raining and misty all week and after a couple of days I just gave up with the hair.   Do people in London and Seattle just accept looking bad and walk around with bad hair??

Remember on Lost – we knew that Claire had completely lost her marbles when her hair started to look like a frizzy bad wig??? Yeah – that’s what I looked like at the bus stop this week…….

For a little while there before the “Seattle times”, and before the “May Autumn”, when it was “March Summer” – I actually had a decent tan going.

I am now back to being pasty white – which I hate.

I have mentioned before I have guidette tendencies because of my Italian background, and I have mentioned before that my son Sam was a born guido.  

He was actually born a little bit tan believe it or not.  He was born in May and I took him outside all summer long because I had a 9 month old to entertain (and I refuse to be anywhere but the beach in the summer.) 

I kept him out of the sun – in his infant carrier, under an umbrella.  By the end of the summer he was very dark brown.  He actually had a pacifier tan line – a perfect white circle around his mouth.  It’s one thing to be born with an olive skin tone – but this child was also born with the personality of an old Italian man. 

He had an affinity for velour Puma sweatsuits at an early age – it was all he would wear, he would fist pumps regularly, and he will only eat sausage sandwiches or pepperoni sandwiches for lunch.

When he was turning 2 – I asked him what he wanted for his birthday breakfast.  I told him he could have whatever he wanted – (expecting a request for donuts or pancakes.)

He replied – “Coffee and sausage.”

He wasn’t kidding. 

A few weeks ago – during the “March Summer” – we had a playdate at a park.  I sat on a bench with a tank top and capris on – basking in the 80 degree sun. I caught up with an old friend, while our boys played on the playground. 

We were deep in juicy conversation when Sam came running over out of breath – pulling on my arm – saying “Mommy, Mommy.”

I ignored him and kept talking for a few minutes – but he kept at it.

“Excuse me Mama, Excuse me Mama…”

Finally I had to stop talking to my friend…

“What? What do you want?” I asked exasperated.

“Am I getting tan?” he asked with a concerned look.

I just stared at him.

“Um – yes Sam – you probably are.”

“Ok – thanks.” he said and ran off.

I looked at my friend in shock. “What four-year-old stops playing to check on the status of their tan??” I asked with bewilderment.

“Well – the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” she answered.

It’s true of course.  I love a tan. I spent many years going to tanning salons and I am capable of getting frighteningly tan. 

This is me at the bus-stop with a tan.

The only sentence I know in Spanish is “No Habla Espanol” – because so many Hispanic people try to talk to me in the summer.

I love my Italian heritage – and I love that Sam is a little Jersey Shore character, especially since we live in a town where there are 2 Italians, (me and Sam.)  Even though we are all half Irish and half Italian – Mr. Gaga and Michael tend to be a little more Irish than Sam and I care for, and vice versa.

A couple of weeks ago, Mr. Gaga and I were arguing about something and he said, “Well you are absurd.”

Sam heard him and ran in from the other room to come to my defense.

“She is NOT ABSURD!!” he yelled at his father.

“Oh really? Then what is she?” Mr. Gaga said with amusement.

Sam looked at Mr. Gaga with a very serious look.

“She is ITALIAN!” he yelled indignantly.

We died laughing.

The point I am painstakingly trying to make is this.

My son was born a little “guido” that wears wife-beaters and has a New York accent and I am a guidette who likes to be tan and eat pasta.

Despite this “Situation” – it would NEVER, EVER be okay – to say – I don’t know……. TAKE HIM TANNING!

Ok I have definitely made him participate in the G and the L……..

but the T???  Really??

A woman from (where else?) Nutley, NEW JERSEY!  was arrested after being accused of bringing her 6-year-old daughter tanning! 

Now if this is not disturbing enough – I had the bad luck to watch a story about this on the news.

My eyeballs will never be the same.

If I saw this woman on the street – I would make a citizen’s arrest for disturbing the peace with her nutella-smeared leather face….and good God woman did you ever hear of blotting papers???

Apparently she has had to deal with some harsh critics lately – since she has been all over the news.  To this she replied to a TMZ reporter – “People criticize me because they are all fat and ugly.”

I am sorry – have you looked in the mirror lately Nutley, New Jersey Lady?

Do you find it all problematic that you look like Michael Jackson when he dressed up as a scarecrow in The Wiz?

Do you see your twin all the way to the right?? Are you sure you should be calling people ugly when you look like that??  At least the scarecrow has teeth and did his hair……

It’s one thing to be an idiot and go tanning incessantly – clearly we all know this is a health hazard. It can cause wrinkles and apparently make faces look like Fonzi’s leather jacket.

It’s another thing entirely – to roast your children in a tanning bed.

Excuse me Scarecrow, let me get this straight. Not only did you bring a child tanning with you – but you brought a “ginger-child?” It’s GYM, Tan, Laundry – Not GINGER, TAN, LAUNDRY!! What were you trying to do – burst her into flames???????

I love a tan like nobody’s business, but really this woman is giving tanners a bad name.

I never thought I could say this – but someone took GTL a little too far. 

I’m so glad it wasn’t me for once!

PLEASE CLICK THE BANNER BELOW TO VOTE FOR ME AS A FUNNY, FUNNY MOTHER WHO IS SO NICE THAT SHE DOESN’T EVEN ROAST HER BABY IN THE TANNING SALON……XO, LADY GOO GOO GAGA

 

 

Linking to POUR YOUR HEART OUT

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