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Category Archives: Mr. Gaga


Every year – I review my top blog posts of the year just to give a recap of all that was important and funny to us each month….

I love doing this for two reasons – One is that I get to really take a look back at what resonated with my readers and two is that quite frankly I have amnesia – so it’s a nice way for me to remember what I did for twelve months…..

In January I learned that I am not the only one that is disturbed by what is considered “news” in this country.

This was one of my most popular posts of the year and 149 people commented on it!!  I noticed that the news that week was all about stuff that’s not news at all.

Included but not limited to a statement put out by the Sesame Street PR team saying that the Sesame Street residents were going to be making healthier choices in 2014.

How did this asshole get away with this compulsive vile behavior for so long in the first place?  To add insult to injury he talks in ebonics and says things like "ME LOVE COOKIES."

How did this asshole get away with this compulsive vile behavior for so long in the first place? To add insult to injury he talks in ebonics and says things like “ME LOVE COOKIES.”


The news reporting throughout the year didn’t get much better – but at least we had a good laugh about it….

In February I learned that I can’t just eat and drink with reckless abandon.

We had some snow days and I ended up milling about inside just eating and drinking.
I made a delectable French Onion soup in my crock pot and drank a vat of wine one weekend….

And then I looked in the mirror.



Please note the bags of onion soup and wine under my eyes....

Please note the bags of onion soup and wine under my eyes….

In March I learned that the “Common core is a piece of shit….

As Michael’s third grade math homework got more and more detail-oriented I lost interest completely.  Both kids were expected to show their work for each math question and math problems that took us 5 minutes in the 1980’s now take children hours to complete.

Sam especially got frustrated when he had to fill out a sheet of missing numbers in a pattern and write a sentence explaining how he knew which numbers were missing:




I call this some good work coming from a 6-year-old.

I call this some good work coming from a 6-year-old.

So many of you commented that you felt the same frustration as me and Sam and Michael – this warmed my heart.


In April I learned that if I fell ill – everyone would survive…

I could not get out of bed for a couple of days and life went on without me.  Mr. Gaga was very doting and helpful.  However the children wore the same clothes for days and survived on inappropriate food choices….

One night I could hear Mr. Gaga say “Sure – No problem!” after Sam requested chicken fingers, hot dogs and a cheeseburger for dinner…

"Caarrottss.." I squeaked out...."and just one entree." I managed to say before I passed out from exhaustion.

“Caarrottss..” I squeaked out….”and just one entree.” I managed to say before I passed out from exhaustion.

In May I learned that I miss Jane Fonda – and so do you….

I know that I eat too much and drink too much.

I know that I should be working out harder to burn off all of these calories – but I am sick and tired of all of this Crossfit and bootcamp bullshit – and I learned that many of you are too!! What happened to the good old days in the 1980’s when our mothers just power-walked and did Jane Fonda floor exercises and were skinny??

Why does our generation of women have to toss tires around and do these vile exercises called “burpees” to not be obese??

I usually just do

I usually just do step 1 and then step 5 and hope nobody noticed……

In June I learned that children can be evil....

When I abruptly had to drop what I was doing and bring Michael to school one morning with no makeup on – one of Sam’s classmates asked him why I had so many wrinkles.

The horror of that day has not worn off yet….

I mean I am pretty banged up - but not really that wrinkled per se......

I mean I am pretty banged up – but not really that wrinkled per se……

In July I learned that Hershey Park is not all it’s cracked up to be.

Being the great mother that I am – A friend and I took our kids to Hershey Park and were very disappointed.

The highlight of that trip was when a middle-aged woman came shooting out of a water slide tunnel missing her bathing suit bottoms while I waited patiently for my kids right in perfect view of her bits and pieces….

Then she just walked back towards the line to do it again like nothing happened....

Then she just walked back towards the line to do it again like nothing happened….

In August I learned that parents today have too much time on their hands.

I dread the end of summer and I vowed to not get pressured into anything that I don’t feel comfortable with during the 2014 start of school.

I included in my list of things I WILL NOT DO EVER – a crafty idea that some parents are doing which is decorate your child’s sandwich bag.

So instead of interacting with other children - kids will sit in the caf completing some maze that their dick-head parents made....

So the idea here is that instead of interacting with other children – kids will sit in the cafeteria completing some maze that their dick-head parents made….

In September I learned that even a 2 minute movie preview can wreak havoc on our quality of life….

When Warner Brothers decided to play the trailer to their movie Annabelle during the Today Show commercials – my children were traumatized for weeks.

We had just splurged and bought a new bed but I had no sleep because Michael was in my bed crying every night….

This is not appropriate for the breakfast table you fucking assholes.

This is not appropriate for the breakfast table you fucking assholes.

In October I learned that there are ways to avoid Ebola

Everyone was talking about Ebola in the fall and I was extra careful in my attempts to stay Ebola-free.  I shared some of my great ideas with all of you – so that we could all stay healthy and safe.

Especially during the Halloween season – it’s best to not consume any home-made items or loose candies that are not in a package….

If you get any of these "Ebola Balls" or loose candy corns .....throw them directly into the nearest garbage!!

If you get any of these “Ebola Balls” or loose candy corns …..throw them directly into the nearest garbage!!

In November I learned that the “Elf” creators are money-hungry bitches….

I just hate the Elf and it’s creators.  In November these greedy bitches took things a step too far by creating a “Birthday Elf.”  It’s not enough that we run around playing their reindeer games all of December – waking up in cold sweats each night realizing we forgot to hide the elf.

Now these people want us to buy the “Birthday Elf” so that the Elf can visit your child for his or her birthday to the tune of $19.99.

I find this highly offensive.

Fuck you Elf. Take your cupcake tutu and go back where you came from.

Fuck you Elf. Take your cupcake tutu and go back where you came from.

In December I learned that I can use the “Elf” for good after all.….

In a cruel twist of fate when Mr. Gaga’s irresponsible behavior threatened to destroy Christmas, I relied on the Elf to save the day.  I used him to get an important message to Michael regarding a LEGO mixup at Santa’s workshop and it worked.

Who would think this fucking asshole would save the day??

Who would think this fucking asshole would save the day??

We survived Christmas without a divorce and the Elf is safely put away until next November.

I am so grateful to have had another full year of blogging under my belt and especially grateful to you all that keep tuning in to read each Sunday night or Monday morning….






Wipe Out Party Wipes out Lady Goo Goo Gaga!

Every year for the past seven years, the day of Sam’s birth is very hot.

It is usually the kind of day where your makeup melts off of your face, that your clothes are sticking to your body and you are seeking shade when outdoors so you don’t throw up.

That is the day that I usually have Sam’s birthday party in the backyard.

For example – this was last year’s forecast for the Friday afternoon party:

Oopsie...At least I will serve alcohol to the parents to lessen the blow....

Oopsie…At least I will serve alcohol to the parents to lessen the blow….

Every year I freak out and fill up water balloons and set up slip n’ slides so that the kids won’t perish during his celebration.

Last year I think we just put out a sprinkler like total white trash in desperation.

I was not going to put myself in that position again. This year, the seventh year, I finally learned my lesson. I rented an inflatable water slide.

When I ordered I figured that would provide the main entertainment for the party while keeping the children cool at the same time. The gentleman on the phone recommended the “Wipe Out” slide and I trusted his expertise and booked it.

The theme of that party became “Wipe Out,” surfing, sharks and summer.

When we decided that we would have a summer themed party for Sam it was then that I thought to invite some people over for a summer kick off after this party was over.

Everything was super organized and perfect.

Summer was on its way and Sam would have fun with his friends and the Gaga’s would have a fun weekend of laughs and celebrations…..


I could not fucking believe it.

It started on Monday.  I figured the weathermen were just being dicks and tried to put the whole forecast out of my mind.

By Wednesday I was beside myself.

I rolled around in bed at night tossing and turning, unable to sleep while I considered whether or not I should cancel the party or risk having all of the children get electrocuted by lightning or murdered by “large hails” on the bouncy slide.

It was a real toss-up.

I would every two minutes periodically check my phone to compare and contrast all of the weather forecasts.




This is what my phone looked like for a solid week at all times.

I tortured Mr. Gaga incessantly.  I would call him at work all day.

“Hello?” he would say in a hushed tone.

“Have you checked the doppler?” I would shriek.

“No, I am in a meeting…what do you want?” he would ask with annoyance.

“The doppler hasn’t changed!” I wailed, “The storm is coming right at 4 PM when the party starts….what should we do?” I asked desperately approximately 10-15 times a day.

“Just wait….it might change.” he would say and hang up on me.

When he wouldn’t talk about it I would call the man who owned the inflatable company, (or as I got used to calling him the “Bounce House Guy.”)

Every day he would talk me off the ledge and tell me tales of other families and schools who would cancel their parties only to find that the weather is beautiful.  He suggested we just keep waiting to see if the weather forecast would change, as he pointed out that Connecticut weather was very unpredictable and often the weather forecasts missed the mark completely.

“Why do we live in this fucking asshole place?” I demanded to Mr. Gaga one night while I frantically checked my phone forecasts and he tried to sleep.

“It’s a horrible place…with a horrible quality of life, horrible weather…..I fucking hate it here!!”

He rolled over and ignored me.

By Thursday, I could barely function.  I hadn’t slept in days and I hadn’t prepared properly since I wasn’t quite sure if the party was a go, which was adding to my stress level.

“The bounce house guy” says we can cancel right up until that morning if we want….” I explained to Mr. Gaga.

“Hmm-hmm.” he answered.

“Well – but then should I make all of the cupcakes and cookies?” I asked bleary-eyed on Thursday.

At this point Mr. Gaga had stopped responding appropriately and would only stare blankly back at me or say things like “I want a divorce.”

We decided to just move ahead with our plans even though all of the weather reports continued to say that there was a 50 percent chance of a thunderstorm occurring right at 4 PM when the party began.

Now I had to get baking, cleaning and organizing Thursday night after a week of no sleep and stress.

I was in a bad mood while I frantically baked beach cupcakes and barked out orders to Mr. Gaga.

Even though I was delerious I was still able to create lovely beach scenes on these cupcakes....

Even though I was delirious I was still able to create lovely beach scenes on these cupcakes….


At one point I was covered in blue frosting thinking of some items I needed to buy at the store – I called out to Mr. Gaga to write out a list for me as I named the items I needed.

“Why don’t you write a list for me?” he asked just to be annoying.

“Do you think I look like I want to play fucking games with you right now? Do you think this is a time to crack stupid jokes?!!” I screamed like a psychopath.

He just stared at me in horror.  He quietly wrote out the list and went upstairs.

When I was cleaning up at 2 am completely crazed I looked at the piece of paper he left behind and died laughing.


I woke up Friday at 5:30 AM and frantically checked all of the weather stations.

The storm was right on track – nothing had changed.

I set about cleaning and finishing up what needed to get done.  Mr. Gaga and I, desperately wracked our brains to think of what we would do if God forbid all of the children ended up in the house due to inclement weather.

“I’ll challenge them all to thumb-wrestling and arm-wrestling.  We can have an arm-wrestling tournament.”

I was so exhausted that it seemed like a good idea.

“Ok, and I will give them all tattoos -we can have an indoor tattoo parlor.” I answered positively.

The party was quickly going from a wipe-out summer splash party to a seedy reenactment of “Over the Top.”



Early in the day – the “bounce house guy” arrived with the water slide.

I guess I was so focused on my party plans that when he described to me the actual dimensions of the slide I hadn’t been listening.

He asked where the slide would be going.

I brought him to a small patch of grass in the backyard.

He stared at me in horror.

“Um…it’s going to take up more room than that….it will pretty much fill your whole backyard.”

Please lord let it stay sunny.....

Please lord let it stay sunny…..

But then …..a miracle happened.

At around noon – all of my hourly doppler radar detectors changed their tune!!

The rain was coming at 6 PM!!!

It was a “Wipe-Out” miracle.

I finished getting set up outside and after I put my gorgeous “surfboard cookies” in wrappers…..


I had about ten minutes to spare and I just needed a little release….

So I went down the slide in my clothes….


Next year Sam’s party will be held inside of a movie theater to save my mental health and my marriage.

Besides, I will be wiped out from planning his communion.







Swingtown USA

Thanks for all of the comments last week about the Halloween candy!! The thought never occurred to me to send it overseas and that’s what we decided to do!!

I have mentioned many times my concern about American women having too much time on their hands and not quite knowing how to direct the energy and time with purpose and meaning!

In particular – I was horrified to learn last year that millions of women across America were spending their days “enjoying 50 Shades of Grey” a little too much for my taste.

I was reminded of everyone’s obsession with sex, yet again when I read a news story recently about a couple that was having sex at the WAFFLE HOUSE in Georgia.

They were very drunk and naked when the police told them they needed to put their clothes on and that they were under arrest.

Apparently the woman just sat there naked and when prompted by police to go ahead and get dressed, she put a cheeseburger on her foot because she thought it was her sandal.

Her parents must be proud...

I mean you just can’t make this shit up…

I know what your thinking….

That kind of stuff only happens at the WAFFLE HOUSE in Georgia…

I have news for you…..

There are horndogs everywhere.


It has come to light that in this “little town of perfection” that I live in – there’s been some scandalous behaviors.

Lately, I have heard more and more about many couples who are invited to parties in town and when they arrive they find out it is in fact a swingers party!

Am I the only one that finds the concept of swinging alarming?

I mean it’s not enough that I have to clean my toilets, cook dinner, raise my children, and maintain my own marriage…

I have to be nice to you mothers at the playground, and at the bus stop, I have to join playgroups and pretend that your kids are cute and now you expect me to fucking bang YOUR HUSBAND TOO????


Are you all out of your minds??

First of all – I just know that if I ever agreed to this I would get stuck with the doughiest, nerdiest loser husband….


I just don’t understand….

We have all wanted to murder our husbands.

We have been up in the middle of the night while feeding or rocking a screaming baby and looked over at our husband while he drools and snores and considered taking a pillow and smothering him to death.

We have all gotten into fights about mundane stuff (like when he ruins Christmas) and stopped speaking to our husbands.

So I get how people could possibly lose that spark with their spouse.

If Mr. Gaga and I lost our spark- I would spend a lot of time watching “Real Housewives,” reading and going to the gym.

Hmm...should I finish this book and this cigarette??  Or should I go do the "69" with the neighbor's husband??

Hmm…This is boring…..should I finish this book and this cigarette?? Or should I go do the “69” with my neighbor’s husband??

Apparently other women are much hornier than I am…..


Take these muffins – I’m here to screw your hubby….

Please tell me on what planet do you secure a babysitter, take a shower, get dressed, get in the car, arrive at your friend’s house and promptly do the nasty with her husband?

I mean she’s the one who signed up to live with and have sex with this guy and now I have to do all of her dirty work?? I don’t think so…..

“Can you believe it?” I demanded of Mr. Gaga when we heard about a neighborhood nearby where swinging is all the rage.  “I mean there’s not one person’s husband I would want to have sex with! It’s disgusting!!”

“I don’t think it’s that they want to have sex with the people…it’s more about the adventure and scandal of it.” he explained.

Um – ok so the point of swinging is that you are all so bored to tears with your dreadful little lives that you are going to have sex with some strange man from the suburbs??

Do you think this is going to prove to be exciting???


What if they are fat or hairy?

What if they fart? What if they smell bad? What if their feet smell or they have a long toenail that scratches your leg?

What if they have noisehairs or earhairs?

OR what if they have a lot of gray hair? What if they are way older than you??

Oh my God……..What if they have gray hair on their peep??!!!!

The lists of possible turn-offs are endless!!!


I hope you don't mind -I have to wear this....

I hope you don’t mind -I have to wear this….

Well – Mr. Gaga and I are just not the swinging type.

And just in case anyone is thinking of inviting us to swing – please know that we are very cool and very entertaining and we think very highly of ourselves…..

Mr. Gaga put his foot down and made an executive decision that there would be only one couple we should consider swinging with…

and this is our final decision – so don’t even bother asking us……



xo, Lady Goo Goo Gaga


Making Mr. Gaga

Because it’s Father’s Day I had to not ask Mr. Gaga to do anything, I had to not complain about anything in the house.

I had to not be bitchy or snippy.

I had to bite my tongue when he was watching Rocky in the middle of the day for no apparent reason, and I had to smile robotically when he said he had to go to my brother’s house at 2 o’clock in the afternoon “because smoking wings takes hours and we need to start early to have them ready for dinner.”

As a result I am totally mentally drained.

This week I am offering a very short and sweet tale.

Mr. Gaga wasn’t always Mr. Gaga.

He used to have his own hopes and dreams that didn’t include me.

Even after we were dating for a while, he repeatedly attempted to break it off.

“I don’t think we should go out anymore….we have to break up.” he would say.

“No.” I would answer back.

“I am going to go out with other people.” he would plead.

“Yeah, no…’re not.” I would calmly answer.

“I don’t like you.” he would say when he was at the end of his rope.

“Yes you do…you love me.” I would answer back.

It wasn't that I was completely was just that I knew we were meant to be....

It wasn’t that I was completely insane…it was just that I knew we were meant to be….

Finally when nothing he would say would stick he would just throw his hands up and say “Ok fine – forget it.”

I was always making this poor guy do things that he didn’t want to do.

I had visions of romance and love and I would make him to take me to fancy restaurants, buy me fancy gifts, write me fancy letters.

I was 19.

One night around the time that he kept trying to break up with me, I had planned a romantic night in watching movies in my college dorm while all of our friends were out at a bar.

We were about to start the movie, and I excused myself to go to the bathroom.

When I came back Mr. Gaga was missing.


I looked out the window.

This guy was so determined to get away from me, he jumped out a second story window, landed in some bushes and I could see him running down the street towards the bar.

Thinking quick on my feet I tossed aside my lounge clothes and put on my “Break up shirt.”

*Because Mr. Gaga was frequently breaking up with me, I had special clothes I wore during tumultuous times, called “break-up shirts” that basically allowed me to go out naked, ensuring I would receive much attention from men out at the bar. 

Oh well, I'll just drink this whole bottle of vodka and I am sure someone else in this bar will be happy to watch a movie with me....

Oh well, I’ll just drink this whole bottle of vodka and then I am sure I will find someone else in this bar who will be happy to watch a movie with me….

In the end, no matter what he did, he just couldn’t manage to escape.

He stopped trying after a while, and we were in love.

Then we had kids, and though we still love each other, things can get hectic around here and sometimes I yell at him or act a smidge bitchy.

Also I started a mom blog in which he stars as “Mr. Gaga.”   I mean what more could a guy want?

Sometimes he might secretly dream of jumping out that window, running like the wind into the night and drinking shots and beers until he can’t stand up.

Thankfully, he no longer acts on it.

He’s learned over time that there’s no use trying to escape….he will be Mr. Gaga forever.

THE LESSON HERE IS A LITTLE STALKING NEVER HURT ANYONE AND CAN SOMETIMES PAY OFF! I am a lucky girl.  Happy Father’s Day to Mr. Gaga and all the Dads out there!




A Meaningful Life

Here’s a little back story on Lady G.

I went to a prestigious New England prep school for highschool, where my horizons were broadened and I found a great appreciation for learning.

I went on to college, various internships and jobs in television production, PR, marketing.  Ultimately, Mr. Gaga and I ended up in Connecticut. I worked for a nonprofit doing program development, fundraising and grant writing.

Doing good works was not part of my plan. It’s not exactly what I thought was my cup of tea.

I found it a challenge, yet also found it fulfilling and worthwhile.  I felt good about working a 12 hour day to benefit sick children.  I felt much better about that than I did working a 12 hour day for Viacom.

When I was pregnant with Sam, the nonprofit shut its doors and I ended up home with a one-year-old, by default.

Something else that was not part of my plan.

While also rewarding and fulfilling in some ways, I have struggled to find myself and find meaning in life as a stay-at-home mom.

I have found it difficult to consider my children my sole reason for being.  I have shuddered to think that I was put on this earth to raise 2 children, grocery shop and keep the toilets clean.

Very early on I started working a mindless part-time job just to keep myself sane.  Let’s say for the sake of anonymity I sell push-up bras.  I help women to look good and feel good.  It’s fun. It’s harmless. Meaningful? Not so much.

This week I went to the CT Forum to hear a panel discussion on leading a meaningful life.

The panel included smart important people who were doing great things in the world.  One of the panelists was Tim Shriver, who besides being the son of Eunice Kennedy and Sargent Shriver, is the chairman of the Special Olympics.  He also went to Yale undergrad, and then to about 65 other schools to collect various degrees, and has 5 children, looks like a Kennedy, and is brother-in-laws with Arnold Schwarzenegger.

Around the time that Tim racked up yet another degree, I could be found doing very important works like emptying the dishwasher twice a day and organizing Legos.

Around the time that Tim racked up yet another degree, I could be found doing very important works like emptying the dishwasher twice a day and organizing Legos.

He was so dynamic when he spoke about the meaning of life, and how important it is to give back and to be someone who makes change in the world.

He has done so much and in the midst of it all his hair is always that perfect Kennedy hair that gives you hope and makes you feel all is right with the world.

It made me think about what I do.

You know…sell push up bras….clean the occasional toilet…..make dinner.


Another panelist was a man named Larry Brilliant.  He has among other small tasks, headed the philanthropic arm of Google, cured 3 million people of blindness, and eradicated small pox.

The man is a genius, so I understand that I could never even dream of accomplishing anything that he has.

However the fact that while these people are changing the world, I am earnestly attempting to teach my husband and kids how to change the toilet paper, I literally cannot keep track of the socks of the 4 people who live in my house and  I have looked at my 2nd grader’s homework and found it overwhelming….probably indicates a slight problem.

“What am I going to do with my life?  You don’t understand because you have a purpose and your life has meaning….” I said to Mr. Gaga the next day with despair.

“Your life has meaning too, with your family.” he answered simply.

“That’s it? That’s my whole life? Just being a mom?” I asked incredulously.


“What? That can’t be it! I don’t even think I am doing a good job with that…they watch SpongeBob and swear.” I said throwing myself onto my bed with dramatics.

“What will my tombstone say? Here lies Lady G, she sold push-up bras and called kids assholes on her blog?  And what about when the kids leave? What will I do then??”

“It will be time for us to be together, and enjoy life.” he said with a smile, imagining us probably on a beach somewhere loving each other.

All I could see in my mind were the creepy old people in the Cymbalta ad.

“WHAT?? NO!!!! I hate that plan!!! That’s a horrible plan!!!!

I stayed home emptying the dishwasher for 20 years for this?

I stayed home emptying the dishwasher for 20 years for this?

“Ok, great!” Mr. Gaga answered sarcastically, “Then go get a job you crazy bitch!”

(He didn’t say “crazy bitch” but I could see it in his eyeballs that he wanted to. He generally is very nice and patient, but can only take so much.)

Well, you will probably be working and the kids will be gone, and I will be home with like 5 cats….I guess I will just stare out the window and pet the cats all day.” I said with disgust.

“We are not getting cats….I hate cats.” he said firmly.

“So do I!!! I would never want a cat…but I think that when you are alone all the time with nothing to do that’s what happens! That’s the point! Your life is so boring and empty that you forget that you hate cats and you turn into a crazy cat lady.”

He just stared at me.


How can I raise two children successfully and be fully invested in that, and still find a way to preserve a piece of myself, while simultaneously keeping Mr. Gaga around?

Does anyone have the answers??

This is probably why I have the tendency to be Lindsay Lohan…..just sayin.

It’s just not as easy as Tim Shriver’s hair makes it look.



May the force be with me….

Mr. Gaga is responsible for taking care of the kids most Saturdays.

I am not at the spa.

I am not getting a pedicure or lunching with friends.

I am working most Saturdays.

Mr. Gaga will have everyone thinking that he has it very rough.  He will tell random people that he runs into at games, birthday parties, and the store that he’s a “single dad.”

When interacting with other parents of children we barely know he will find a way to steer the conversation to some point where he can announce, “Well, I do everything  because I am a single dad.”

He finds this hilarious.

Last Saturday was the first basketball games of the season for both kids.

When we all got home I asked how it went.

“Good, Sam’s coach seems nice and I saw Todd’s mom and we were talking about the Star Wars party she’s having for him next weekend.”

(Todd is Sam’s friend – we have gone out socially with his parents one time.)

“She said that we were invited to stay during the party and hang out and eat…”

“Hmm, hmm,” I said distractedly as I read my email.

“So I told her that we would bring Star Wars cookies.” he threw in nonchalantly.

Imagine this making a huge screeching noise....

Imagine this making a huge screeching noise….

“And what did she say???” I asked, hoping that this mother responded with something like “Oh no – that’s not necessary!”

“She said “Great!,” he answered.

“What??!! Why??!!!” I asked in shock.

“Well we have those cookie cutters…” he answered nonchalantly…”What’s the big deal?”

When a kind aunt that always gives my kids really cool stuff was nice enough to give us these fancy Star Wars cookie cutters from Williams Sonoma, I did what any level-headed woman would do.  I hid the box in a closet.

Sorry Aunt Sue, but this box hasn't seen the light of day since you gave it to us....

Sorry Aunt Sue, but this box hasn’t seen the light of day since you gave it to us….

Apparently Williams Sonoma thinks it’s just every mother’s dream to sit around making baked goods into the shapes of Star Wars characters.

Also – if that’s not enough activity to kill all of your time and your will to live you can also make Star Wars pancakes.

Screw you Williams are an asshole...and your pancakes are assholes too.

Screw you Williams Sonoma……

And if you have completely lost your marbles…for the bargain-price of $15 you can actually flip this Darth Vader-shaped breakfast with this:


Needless to say Thursday afternoon came, and I had to get to work on the cookies. First I went to the store to purchase the 47 types of frosting I would need to create these cinematic masterpieces.

 I made the sugar cookie dough.  I hosted a playdate for Sam’s friend and then two other kids came over for dinner, while their parents were at a wake.  I baked 5 dozen sugar cookies while the kids played.

When I cleaned up from dinner and had the kids had settled at around 8 PM, it was time to start frosting the cookies.

“OK, I’m going to head up and take a shower and go to bed.” Mr. Gaga said coolly as he started up the stairs.

“Oh no you aren’t.” I said threateningly.  “You better take this black frosting and start with some Darth Vaders.”

He huffed and puffed but attempted to help while I was working diligently on my Storm Troopers.

He looked over with disgust…”What the hell is that?? That’s not a Storm Trooper…it’s a sad dog with a headband on!!!”

He had a point....

He had a point….


I had green and black frosting everywhere, the kitchen was trashed and I was delirious.

“I hope you are happy…from now on when you go to games or birthday parties keep your mouth shut!” I said with disgust.

By 9 o’clock he had completely abandoned ship.

I spent the entire night cursing him and George Lucas.

I was seeing double and exhausted when I finally finished all of the cookies.

But then they looked absolutely horrible…nothing like the box.  Nothing like Williams Sonoma told me they would look like…

I made Mr. Gaga come look at the cookies.

“I can’t see straight…my back and eyeballs are killing me….but does this just look like an entire rack of Saddam Hussein cookies?? That’s all I see.”


I ate the cookie on the bottom left because it looked like some sort of Arab dictator with sunglasses on….and I didn’t think that would be appropriate for a kids’ party.

“No they look fine!” he said wearily. “Just go to bed!”

“I can’t go to bed now!! I still have to do Boba Fett’s black trim and the red dots in the Yoda eyes!!”

In the end – they came out decent enough…..

4 cookies

This is not exactly what the ass-hats at Williams Sonoma had in mind…but it will have to do.

I think that the people who come up with these crafty little ideas at the Williams Sonoma corporation should be held accountable for the hours of torture they inflict on people…..

But in the meantime, in case you were wondering …I am the best mother ever.





Christmas Tree Results 2012

So…….when I arrived home on Saturday afternoon…..

there was a tree in my living room!!!

This was major.

We put the lights on together while the children unwrapped all of the ornaments.

All of the lights worked from last year.

The kids only broke one ornament.

Was this going to be the year of a magical Christmas tree trimming?


We laughed and listened to Christmas music……the kids really weren’t that bad and there wasn’t much fighting.

Of course, it couldn’t be completely Dickens-like, Mr. Gaga couldn’t help but be inappropriate.

I was in the kitchen doing something and I heard him say,

“Ok kids, be careful with all of the balls…they are glass….”

“Ok, you guys do all of these gold and silver balls and I will take care of these, I am very familiar with them…..”


This is a little dig – because in between doing Thanksgiving for a million people, ALL OF THE CHRISTMAS SHOPPING, scheduling and attending the Christmas card photo shoot alone, licking every envelope and sending 100 Christmas cards, decorating the house for the holidays, etc., maybe we don’t always have time for romance around here……

But I channeled Mary from “It’s a Wonderful Life” and smiled and pretended he wasn’t crazy.

We just have to do the star and some tinsel and we are in the home stretch.....We can do this.....We can be happy at Christmastime!!! Don't let the children or Mr. Gaga ruin it.......

We just have to do the star and some tinsel and we are in the home stretch…..We can do this…..We can be happy at Christmastime!!! Don’t let the children or Mr. Gaga ruin it…….

We were about done by 7:30.

It was amazing.

Then Mr. Gaga went to turn off the lights so we could see the tree completed.

“Come on guys, Daddy is going to turn off the lights and then we can clap and cheer….”

“No…No…I got this….”Mr. Gaga said to me as he turned to the kids and put his hand out. He waited for us all to put our hands on top of his.

“So we can say like ‘Yay Christmas’ or something?” I asked as we all waited expectantly.

“Christmas…Christmas…Christmas…..” he whispered softly and the kids joined in.

He got louder and louder (as did the kids) until it was deafening.  By that time the kids were insane and jumping around screaming “Christmas!!” at the top of their lungs and Michael kicked Sam in the stomach because he was so excited.   Sam started screaming and doubled over in pain.

Apparently, Mr. Gaga had threatened earlier in the day that whenever Michael hurt Sam – Mr. Gaga would be inflicting the same injury to Michael so he could see how it felt.

I didn’t know about this arrangement.

All I knew is that Mr. Gaga gave Michael a quick graze to the stomach and he doubled over and started crying.

“What the hell are you doing??” I screamed at Mr. Gaga over all of the wailing and crying. “WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU??????”

“This isn’t a fucking pep rally! IT’S CHRISTMAS AND YOU RUINED IT!!!!!!” I screamed at him kneeling down to tend to the injured children.

“I am sick of you telling me I ruin Christmas!!!!” he screamed and stormed out the front door.

I stared down at the crying children rolling around on the floor.

I stared at the completed tree.

So close.

But definitely better than last year……and I forgave Mr. Gaga for his Christmas tree antics.

I have high hopes for 2013.

Last year I let him respond to my angry Christmas blog after he single-handedly destroyed Christmas of 2011, so I am reposting his response…..


Posted on December 18, 2011 by Lady Googoogaga

Mr. Gaga asked for a chance to plead his case – so I granted him a chance to guest blog below.  Enjoy!

Before I start, let me first ask this….no one found it ironic that the Mr. Gaga bashing followed the blog about Lady’s period.

It was set up so perfectly.

A blog about a woman’s period, then  a week later, a story about how awful her husband is.

The night the infamous tree incident reminded me of a scene from 28 Days Later.  (Not just a catchy title, but perfect timing.)

This is Lady in the living room window as we pulled up the driveway.  Something about the eyes told me that she was less than happy with me.  We call those “period eyes”.

This is Lady in the living room window as we pulled up the driveway. Something about the eyes told me that she was less than happy with me. We call those “period eyes”.

Now while I could probably write forever on this topic, I was given strict instructions about my “guest blogging”.  I will attempt to keep it short and sweet.

To you all, Ladygoogoogaga,  is funny and witty.

I like to compare her to grandkids.  Grandparents love them. You know why?  Because they go home to their parents at the end of the day.

You bring Lady into your home once a week to make you laugh.  In reality, you close her blog and wait till the next week.  I on the other hand have to live with her for the remainder of the week telling me how funny she is.

“Why don’t you think I’m funny?’  “984 people thought I was funny this week.”

Really Lady!  If you’re so funny, how come your shit ain’t payin the fuckin mortgage?  If you’re so funny, why don’t you go out and buy your own fuckin car instead of stealing mine?

Sorry.  I got off task.  Let me get back to the story.  Two weeks ago, I got suckered into going back to the infamous tree farm.  I had no problem going to Home Depot to get a tree and calling it a day.  I didn’t want to go out to that wretched tree farm anyway.  Lady’s father made me feel guilty. How can I tell this man no?

Long story short, I was ready to pack up around 4:30 pm to go home.  Father in law comes up and says, “Can you do me a favor?”

I knew what he has going to ask me before his mouth opened.  He wanted me to drive his 2 Christmas trees one hour out of my way, to his house because he couldn’t fit them in his car.  That meant I have to drive one hour one way to catch up two hours the other way.  I wouldn’t get home until close to 8:00 pm.  How can I tell this man no?  I couldn’t!

This is the same man who brought me to my colonoscopy, held my hand in the room and drove me home after.  This is all because “Ladygoogoohaha” couldn’t make it due to the “perfect 10 ” beach day.  In a nut shell, while her husband was getting anally probed by a doctor, WITH HER FATHER HOLDING HIS HAND, she was basking in the sun at the beach.

I ruined the Christmas Tree decorating night?

He was so proud to be there for me.

He was so proud to be there for me.

That being said.  I am not a bad guy.  I go to work.  I don’t beat my wife (though tempting at times).  I love my children.  I do my best to keep things moving smoothly in the house.

Just so you know, when she was  not speaking to me for three days….she actually was actually doing me a favor.  Seriously, you women think you are punishing us when you give us the silent treatment.  It is actually the greatest gift ever.

What she did leave out was the fact that I wake up at 4:30 am to be at work at 5:30 am.    Come home at 5 or 6 at night to high-five her as she walks out the door for book club or some other fucking excuse for a cult she belongs to.

My weekends include play dates with most of the people highlighted in this blog, stupid birthday parties, cleaning up the front yard because apparently if you’re a fuckin comedian like my wife, you can’t pick up a goddamn toy in the yard.  I AM  MR. MOM!

I just got home. Lady had a stand-up gig at the Coconuts

I just got home. Lady had a stand-up gig at the Coconuts

She’s hilarious.

You know what’s funny?

The fact that I keep having to wear my underwears inside out to pretend they’re clean because Lucille Ballgoogoogaga is busy making the world laugh.

Basically, my message is this.  You all should shut the fuck up because every woman should be so lucky to have a guy like me.  You have no idea what it is like to live with her!  She is like Mommy Dearest, Fatal Attraction, and Misery in one character.  This guest blog is my cry for help.

Below is a link for you to vote for me as the biggest asshole husband.  But before you vote, spend a week in my shoes.  You may change your mind.  Thank you, good night, and god bless…….

Sincerely, Mr. Gaga

Alright – really the click on this banner will just further my proof that I am the funniest mom in America…….Even though I already know it’s true – it’s good to be validated  – can you believe this guy???

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