RSS Feed

Why I am not on the PTO

Last year I found myself complaining about my childrens’ school.  We have 11 elementary schools in town – and I kept hearing about all of the great programs and activities offered at other schools.

One school offered a “tough mudder” for kids, another a school play, another exciting field trips funded entirely by the PTO.

“This is fucking bullshit,” I told Mr. Gaga as I put yet another $8 into an envelope so that Sam could go to a park down the road and look at the soil.

Once I inadvertently complained to a PTO member of our school.

“Well,” she answered, sweet as pie…

“You can’t complain if you don’t help..”

The truth of that theory stung a bit.

I guess I couldn’t just go around talking shit about our school and our PTO if I wasn’t bringing anything to the table.

When a friend suggested I help out with a town-wide initiative to get children to eat healthier foods at school, I thought it might be something I could help with.

The purpose of the group was to help with creating a school garden that could ultimately teach children about gardening and utilize the herbs and vegetables at the yearly farmer’s market at the schools.  Also someday – the goal would be to get the vegetables into the salad bars at schools.

Well I love food.…” I thought to myself….

“And I hate fat children….hmmm”

“I’ll help!” I answered enthusiastically to my friend.

I mean how hard could it be? I am very smart – I work well with others  I like helping children  I like children   I can follow basic instructions.

So suddenly before I knew it – I had approximately 5 meetings on my schedule.

Apparently I had to meet with various groups to discuss how to grow a garden and create a good farmer’s market for our school.

The legwork was already done -after sitting through several meetings where people talked in circles and offered unsolicited tales of their gardening experiences, I felt it was time for some action.

I quickly made a few calls.

I secured a local cub scout troop to help build the garden.  I chatted with a few parents that promised to help.  I called some farmers that agreed to help at the farmer’s market.

I asked for money from the town-wide group for a new garden and they enthusiastically agreed.  The school PTO agreed to give money as well.

It all took about 20 minutes total and a little networking.

When I emailed out my progress to the necessary contacts to get the ball rolling for the garden and market – I was met with radio silence.

“That’s nice that you’re helping …it’s just that …we wanted to have some more meetings.”

I know that you want to have another meeting.

But I have fucking shit to do.

I know that these “meetings” where we all politely sip a beverage and look at each other earnestly while the other person speaks seems very important…But guess what?

It’s not.

President Obama doesn’t have this many meetings.

Maybe in the olden times mothers needed to gather around to chat about what they were doing but we don’t need to do this any more to be effective.

There’s social media, email, texting and cellular phone service.

I actually don’t need to speak to anyone face to face to be effective.

But then if you don’t go to 50 meetings and talk in circles……

What will you do??!!!

Zumba and tennis combined only takes up 2 hours!

What will you do???!


I stone-cold single-handedly solved all the problems and we were ready to roll.

But nobody wanted my help!!

I sent several emails to my PTO contact for the farmer’s market and the teacher in charge of the gardens.

I kept checking for their excited replies.


I was almost stalking them.

Then I stopped.

Nobody noticed.

“Well fuck it,” I told a friend that I had enlisted to help.

“They don’t want our help I guess – and quite frankly I am very busy and I am not going to run around begging people to let me help them.”

She agreed.

I told another friend of my plight.

“You have to understand – these women have nothing to do and they want to feel very important and needed….by helping too much you are taking away their thunder.”

“Um – okay – well I am not familiar with people who don’t take help from others – because if it was up to me – I would never do anything again and I would just delegate everything to whatever idiot wanted to do it. I am unaccustomed to this type of creature that wants to do everything themselves.”

“Well – that’s why you don’t join the PTO,” she answered smartly.

Finally – the teacher responded and we had to schedule another MEETING to talk about the garden.

kristin wiig

Went to that meeting.

Got clearer sense of what we needed to do.

Relayed information regarding money and volunteers that I had ready in the wings.

Also – as I side note – we are talking about a VERY small plot of land that will be dedicated to a VERY small garden.

Students in China are finding a cure for cancer - but we are all dicking around trying to figure this out.....

Students in China are finding a cure for cancer – but we are all dicking around trying to figure THIS out…..

Is everyone aware that men and women across America are growing food and flowers by the acre with no problem?

These guys had one meeting this year - and it was just so they could agree to bring 2 hoes to this photo shoot.....

These guys had one meeting this year – and it was just so they could agree to bring 2 hoes to this photo shoot…..

After I spoke to the teacher and promised that I could get the funding and man power to create a garden that would suit the needs of our school…..


And now I have learned an important lesson.

I had to learn the hard way for sure.

Last weekend – at Michael’s baseball game – I was discussing this experience with a working mother who said I was insane to even entertain this idea of helping.

“Well it’s just that sometimes I feel guilty – and once a PTO mom said to me I can’t complain if I don’t help,” I explained rationally.

A very successful suave dad was listening, he interjected into our conversation.

“Of course you can complain!” he said indignantly, “You pay taxes in Goopville – don’t you?”

“Yes I do!” I answered excitedly to this very smart successful man.

“Then you have every right to complain – don’t let those women make you feel bad, they just have nothing else to do.”

My savior!!

He was right.

I am just not cut out for this PTO bullshit.

If I have to be honest….I don’t! really work well with children, I don’t! really work well with bored women, and I fucking hate gardening. I have a hard time finding time to keep up with manicures and pedicures as it is and I don’t need some school dirt patch ruining my nails.

And if children don’t have fresh vegetables at the salad bar then they can eat a fucking lunchable and a doughnut.

Why is this my problem?

It’s not any more.

Sorry Michelle Obama.

Better luck next time.

I am sorry you are fat and eating a lunchable - I tried to help.

I am sorry you are fat and eating a lunchable – I tried to help.

So in closing – if you are looking for me – I am the mom complaining loudly on the sidelines…..



Perfect Mother – The Mother’s Day Edition

I had a great idea for tonight’s blog post – I would offer all of you some mothering pearls of wisdom!  I decided to check in with my children to see what worldly and mothering tips I have given them over the years.

“So like what are some things that you will always remember me saying to you?” I asked hopefully over brunch to the kids.

“Oh I know…” Sam answered matter-of-factly as he ate his pancakes. “When our rooms are dirty you come upstairs and say ‘Clean up this beeping shit.’

I sipped my coffee calmly.  “No Sam – I don’t say that unless things are very bad.”

“Oh – you mean like when we come home from somewhere and you say ‘Did anyone touch your peep?” Michael asked.

“Well – yes I guess – but more like – have I taught you anything?” I asked biting into my eggs benedict.

They both ate their breakfasts silently.

Mr. Gaga apparently had tuned all of us out and was pretending he was somewhere else completely and ate in silence.

Maybe I am just a horrible mother that offers nothing except peep monitoring and yelling about dirty rooms…Oh my God am I a monster?


“Well when we complain about something you always say ‘There are people with no arms and legs.” Michael offered.

“Yes! That’s good!  I do say that and that’s good right?” I answered whole-heartedly – maybe there was hope after all.

“Well Michael – I am always helping you to do well at school and be smart….like what do I say to you that helps?

He shrugged blankly.

I stared at him – waiting patiently.

“Well you just say so much stuff and it’s like annoying- so I don’t really listen…” he answered.


Great- so I do offer pearls of wisdom – but nobody is listening to me!!!!  I knew it.

Sam started to notice that I was becoming depressed by this conversation.

“Mom – I know! You always tell me that I should eat my food because people have no food – and then you tell me not to eat junk because I will be fat.” he said eagerly.

“Ok – yes.” I answered with less enthusiasm.  That was not exactly a sparkling moment of genius.

“What about like what I tell you to be good at sports and life?” I asked with exasperation.

“Oh well – when you ask us if we won an activity – and we tell you that there were no winners – you tell us there’s ALWAYS a winner! And you tell us to always be the best!” Michael said with annoyance.

“Oh yes! That’s great advice!!” I answered – pleased with myself, finally.

“Well Mom, sometimes there’s no winner!” Michael answered back.

“If you think there’s not someone doing the best – you need to pay closer attention.” I persisted.

Is this the only meaningful thing that my children will learn from me????

Is this the only meaningful thing that my children will learn from me????

I gave up and when we got home from brunch I was changing my clothes and feeling sad about what a horrible mother I was.

“Do you think it’s bad that the kids don’t love me or think that I have taught them anything?” I asked Mr. Gaga as I threw on a t-shirt.

“Nope,” he answered robotically.

I got my things together and was heading out to my car.

“Okay – so while I go grocery shopping can you just make sure that you get Michael’s baseball clothes out of the laundry?  I threw all his clothes in at 6:30 AM to be sure they would be clean for his game – and also can you help him get his homework done?”

“Sure.” Mr. Gaga answered disinterestedly as he tinkered with the lawn mower.

I only asked him to do those things because it is in fact Mother’s Day and I thought that gave me the right to ask him to do stuff that I would normally do.  Also, as the luxurious brunch part of my day was over I was officially back on duty to go to the grocery store and clean, etc.

As I drove to the grocery store to buy food for dinner I was thinking about how I could change my parenting style.  I resolved to be more positive.  I should swear less.  I should be more comforting and supportive.

“I will be a good mother and my children will love me and appreciate me,” I thought as I wheeled my grocery cart into the store.

Just then my phone rang.  It was Mr. Gaga.  I had only been gone for twenty minutes – what could he possibly need from me?

“Yeah so – Michael didn’t finish his homework – he had a meltdown…And also he had his ‘eye-black stick’ in his pocket….”

Just so we are clear – the ‘eye-black stick’ is what men wear in baseball to prevent glare…seen here – and also seen on my 8 and 9 year old at their baseball games…you know…because of the “glare.”

LOS ANGELES, CA - APRIL 29:  Left fielder Bryce Harper #34 of the Washington Nationals runs off the field against the Los Angeles Dodgers on April 29, 2012 at Dodger Stadium in Los Angeles, California.  The Dodgers won 2-0.  (Photo by Stephen Dunn/Getty Images)

LOS ANGELES, CA – APRIL 29: Left fielder Bryce Harper #34 of the Washington Nationals runs off the field against the Los Angeles Dodgers on April 29, 2012 at Dodger Stadium in Los Angeles, California. The Dodgers won 2-0. (Photo by Stephen Dunn/Getty Images)

“Oookayyy….” i answered waiting to hear the end of his tale.

“And the eye-black was in the pocket of his baseball pants and then those pants went into the washer and then they went into the dryer….”


“and sooo….all the clothes are black and the washer and dryer have black in them……” he finished softly.


Well that whole ‘I’m not going to swear any more thing’ didn’t last long….

I mean – why do I even buy clothes??


Here’s one example of what I came home to….

Why do I spend every dime I have on clothes for children that are unappreciative?

And why should I not swear about this fucking bullshit?

And why should I feel bad when other mothers judge me for swearing?

It’s fucking mother’s day and I can swear if I want to.

And if you all think I am a bad mother and if Mr. Gaga thinks I am a bad mother – And my own flesh and blood children don’t appreciate me – well perhaps they haven’t noticed all of the wonderful things that I have done.

I have protected their peeps.

I have made sure they eat all of their food.

I have encouraged them to come in first place in everything that they do…

I think that’s pretty dang good mothering.

And if people don’t agree…





Sam becomes one with God and I put crosses everywhere….

Even though I don’t know a thing about Jesus, and am the worst living Catholic, I somehow gave birth to a Jesus-loving guido.  We aren’t quite sure if he was so excited about his first communion because he loves Jesus or because he wanted to try the communion or because he wanted a swig of wine from that filthy wine cup, or because he wanted a gold chain.  But either way way – Sam made his first communion today and it was a very long awaited accomplishment.

I have to bring my children to CCD once a week for years to get to this point.   And most recently I had to attend several meetings to be sure that I understood and could abide by the church rules.

When I went to those meetings, the woman in charge would ask us to recite prayers and hold hands with other parents while we said the “Our Father.”

Diverse Young Adults

But I plugged along.

I know that this religion stuff is an important piece of parenting as an Italian and Irish person.

But it’s a little bit much.

We had to go to a 2 hour retreat last weekend that was centered on making a “placemat” for the alter during communion.

We had to chose out of pages of religious symbols what we wanted to use – we had to cut out and color each symbol that we chose and paste it to a piece of construction paper.

Sam and I did a few and then we  I lost interest.

“Here Sam – do you want to add this magazine to the paper?” I asked quietly.

“Um, Mom – that’s called a BIBLE” Sam said with disgust…

“Oh – well it looks dangerously close to an US Weekly – and in about two seconds I am going to draw Bruce Jenner’s face on it – so just glue it to your paper,” I retorted.

“It actually looks like an US Weekly to me too…” Sam quickly agreed as he pasted it to the “placemat.”

I sat through the mass for his holy sacrament.  I listened to the priest speak of “eating a meal with Jesus,” and eating his body and blood.  I tried to stay serious and pretend that this was totally normal.

I even clapped during the songs and pretended to know the words while this lunatic belted out tunes about Jesus at the top of her lungs.

kristen chenoweth

Next on agenda was to make sure that his party was what it should be – which means many foods and delights in a cross formation at a party.

The antipasto course was a plate of cured meats and cheese in a cross formation…

Blasphemous - maybe. Delicious? YES!

Blasphemous – maybe.
Delicious? YES!

And then of course “Cross” cookies.


Oh yes – and I had the chinese nail artist paint rosary beads on my nails – just in case Jesus doesn’t believe that I am down with all of this.  This should send me to heaven….

rosary nails

Sam received two chains with crosses.  This is a major development in his life.  Tonight he went upstairs to get ready for bed and then came down with his entire face covered with blood.

“What happened?” I asked with horror.

“Well one of my teeth was little wiggly and I just pulled it right out – because my cross made me strong.” he explained.

This cross provides bionic powers....

This cross provides bionic powers….

At the end of the day – Sam is one with God.

He thinks that I am too.

And all is right with the world.



Teaching kids about Bruce Jenner

The Gaga household is a fairly open household.  I really don’t keep much to myself in general (your welcome  – blog enjoyers) and at home I am a pretty open book.  If I feel like talking to someone and only the kids are home  if I am watching something inappropriate with the children the kids ask me something randomly – I try to give an open and honest answer.

Mr. Gaga usually rolls his eyes at me or shakes his head when I say something he deems inappropriate.

But on Friday night when he rolled in and Sam said “Hi Dad – are you going to watch the show with us tonight about the guy that’s cutting off his peep?”  he was not amused.

“Really?” he glared at me as I making myself comfortable to watch the Bruce Jenner interview with Diane Sawyer.

“What?! They aren’t watching – but they asked!” I answered innocently.

Quite frankly I don't think I even understand what's happening -but I did my best to explain this....

Quite frankly I don’t think I even understand what’s happening -but I did my best to explain this….

“You don’t have to tell them everything,” Mr. Gaga sighed, “Let them be innocent – they don’t have to know about this.”

Okay, he’s probably right – but….

Before you start judging me for randomly telling my innocent children about Bruce Jenner – let’s back up a bit.

We watch the Today Show every morning before school.

Even if it’s for 10 minutes – we get a few headlines, we get the weather update and we might get a human interest story out of Carson Daly.

To me it seems like a normal morning program to put on for families.  They have a dog on set, they talk about the world, they sometimes have concerts on the plaza.

When we go into the city, my kids actually enjoy standing outside of the Today Show windows like tourists from Mississippi because the Today Show staff is part of our life.



Lately…probably for ratings – they can be a little bit much.

This week we experienced a new story every morning about a small child who wanted to be “transgender” and who’s parents were supportive of said child’s choice.

Oh did I mention that these children were sometimes 4?

Oh yes ….

According to the Today Show - this child was born a girl named Mia - but by age 4!!!! Her parents let her transition into a boy named Jacob.

According to the Today Show – this child was born a girl named Mia – but by age 4!!!! Her parents let her transition into a boy named Jacob.

Every day was new story of superstar parents that embraced and supported their confused children.  Each day included some sort of promo or reference to Bruce Jenner.

The first couple of days – my children barely ate breakfast because they were in complete shock.

"Sit down and eat!" I scream every morning since the transgender stories started.

“Sit down and eat!” I scream every morning since the transgender stories started.

The third morning – Sam was sleepily pouring his Cinnamon Toast Crunch and Matt Lauer came on teasing his interview with Kim Kardashian talking about Bruce Jenner’s transformation, and he said “Ugh, all anyone cares about is transgenders!”

“I mean – how will he become a girl anyways?” Sam asked at 7:15 AM on Thursday.

“Well, he will dress like a woman and wear makeup…..and ask a doctor to chop off his peep.” I answered matter-of-factly while I sipped my coffee.

Ok - maybe that was a bit much for our breakfast discussion....

Ok – maybe that was a bit much for our breakfast discussion….

But what are we supposed to say when the Today Show brings up such topics????

“Well maybe the Today Show isn’t for small children?” Mr. Gaga suggested when I pleaded my case.

“Well I watched the Today Show every morning for my whole life!” I exclaimed.

“Well that explains a lot.” he answered.

“What do you mean? It was Jane Pauly and Bryant Gumbel and we watched every morning before school, didn’t you?”

“No. We didn’t watch television before school.” he answered with judgement in his eyes.

“But if we don’t watch how will we know the weather?” I answered with exasperation.

“Well, when we woke up my Dad just told us what the weather was.” he answered smugly.

“Well how did he know? Was he a meteorologist?” I inquired.

“No – I guess he just looked out the window.” he shrugged.

Well that's just fucking stupid - your Dad doesn't know more than AL ROKER!!!!

Well that’s just fucking stupid – your Dad doesn’t know more than AL ROKER!!!!

“Well we can’t live like that!! We need to watch the weather in the morning!!!” I explained.

“How are we expected to know what to wear?”

Mr. Gaga did his famous shrug of dismissal.

Later the topic came up again. “Um Mom – when transgenders want to be a lady then they need boobs….” Sam said smartly, “So how do they get boobs?”

“Um – they take a medicine that helps to grow them,” I answered like a smart adult.

“Like – there’s boob pills?” he asked bursting into laughter.

“Yes,” I answered like a smart adult, “Boob pills.”

I mean at a certain point there’s no appropriate answer. Should we educate our children on the facts?

Apparently this is becoming mainstream stuff!

Mr. Gaga says no.

I say yes.

And today after this whole week of transgender focus was over with – Sam asked Mr. Gaga to have a catch.  At a certain point during the catch – it seemed like Sam was losing interest,

Mr. Gaga yelled across the yard – “Sam -if you don’t want to catch the ball any more – you can just go inside and color,” to be a smart Alec and and torture my child,

Sam also being a smart Alec retorted – “Oh well I like coloring rainbows.”

Mr. Gaga said, “You know you else likes coloring rainbows?”

“No – who?” Sam asked innocently while he threw the ball.

“Bruce Jenner.”  Mr. Gaga said as he caught the ball.





This week some things have come to fruition….

Here’s a quick rundown of stuff we have been waiting for:

1 – There is in fact a sun after all:

I have been wearing UGGS and a fur-hooded parka since October.

I have realized that when I decided to reside in the Northeast – I actually signed up inadvertently to live in a place that’s a mix between Alaska and Seattle.

It’s hard and disheartening.

My skin on my face looks like an old woman’s and my soul was almost permanently frozen in a cold hard tundra.

This is me watching my kid's play baseball in Connecticut last week....

This is me watching my kid’s play baseball in Connecticut last week….

Just when I resigned myself to wear boots every day for the rest of my life – the sun came out this week.

It was shocking.

It was delightful.


2 – Gwyenth Paltrow finally admits she is not a normal American Mom

I mean I am sure she means well.  I am sure that I would want to be her friend if she and her Apple and Moses showed up in Goopville.

But let’s get real.

She’s the inspiration for my town being named “Goopville,” because she’s full of FUCKING SHIT.

She decided to take a food challenge offered by Mario Batali (who I have met and is an amazing person – sidenote)

where she would survive on $29 a day (which is what the government offers to families in need in the US of A.)

After four days ………..

of this…….

She quit.

I somehow think that homeless people don’t buy huge bushels of cilantro…..

And maybe don’t buy fucking 25 limes you self-indulgent Mexican

spoiled Hollywood princess

bad mom

bad shopper.

Finally, though, after all of these endless Goop newsletters and conscious uncouplings – we can comfortably know that we don’t have to live up to this woman.

Now we know that if she was in the real world, she would fail.

Is there anything better than knowing that we are better at grocery shopping than Gwyenth Paltrow??


But for this week -we can feel a little smug.

Thanks Gwynnie.

3 – Kim Richards goes to the slammer

If you don’t watch the RHOBH then you won’t understand this.

But suffice it to say that there’s a woman in Beverly Hills who has was a child-star and has a pit-bull that bites everyone’s arms off – and is a menace to society.

She is an alcoholic lunatic.

Up until yesterday she has been living a life of freedom and she has finally been arrested and thrown in the slammer.


Does this look like someone that should not be locked up?

Thank you police officers of Beverly Hills, – it’s about fucking time that this menace to society is behind bars.

4 – Star Wars put out their dang trailer:

Apparently nerds across the land (including everyone that lives in my house except for me) put out the trailer for the movie that’s coming out on fucking CHRISTMAS of 2015!!!

I am sorry – but I am just thrilled to have a morsel of sunshine – I am not thinking about next DECEMBER!!

Well clearly Mr. Gaga has other plans.

He already informed me that him and the children will be going to see this movie next Christmas.

Duly noted, nerds.

5 – Full school Weeks

I just don’t know if I recall a child going to their instutional schooling facility for 5 straight days.

Between the vacations and the illnesses and the winter days –

This week – they will go to school every day…..

If my life depends upon it.

6 – I’m fat.

Ok – that’s not a new development – but I just am hoping that the weather has something to do with my girth.

I am in denial.

I foolishly thought in the still of the winter that I could just eat and drink with reckless abandon and nothing would happen…

I was wrong.


Mr. Gaga went for physical today in good old Connecticut and the doctor said he has never seen so many depressed and out of shape individuals.

This made me feel better.

When it’s below zero for many days in a row – the natural choice is to drink 50 wines and eat carb and cream-laden soups.

I’m glad I am not alone in this obese-land.

But suffice it so say that the snow has melted off of the grill and it’s time to think about a little grilled chicken and veg.

7. Sam will become one with God.

Sam has been waiting to make his first communion since he could say “gold chain.”

When I gave birth to him – he came out with a full tan and a leather jacket –

When you give birth to a child and the nurses bring a full guido to you in the hospital it’s alarming –

As he grew – he became more and more ……Italian.

It’s not normal to tell your 5-year-old to do something and to be met with a very bad attitude…

paulie walnuts

The day of his first holy communion has been a day he has been dreaming of for years, because he can become one with the lord, 

taste the holy wafer complete his look….

It will happen next week and everyone in the Gaga household will officially own a gold chain and all will be right with the world.

8. LADY GOO GOO GAGA will get 2000 likes:

I am humbly begging for Facebook likes.

I have been plugging away.

Entertaining you people for YEARS.

Can you please like me on Facebook? Can you tell your friends to like me???

I have 1930 LIKES.


I need 2000 at least.

Make it happen!!

I am begging.

I think 2000 is just a more respectable number than 1930.

Don’t you??


The “2000 like” will get a prize.



Why you will never sleep again…

When I was pregnant I remember being so uncomfortable towards the end that I couldn’t get a good night’s sleep.  I actually looked forward to having the baby, foolishly thinking, if nothing else, I will be able to sleep.

At this point in time you are a full moron - so you think that things can't get any worse....

At this point in time I was a complete moron – so I thought that things couldn’t get any worse….

After you have the baby – you then realize that the “no sleep” you experienced during pregnancy was actually a drop in the bucket.  With a newborn you learn what it feels like to exist on short snippets of sleep that are continuously interrupted.

You hope and pray that your baby will sleep for even 5 straight hours.

You say to yourself “I just want this baby to sleep through the night,” and one day he does.  Those 5 straight hours feel like a Bahamas vacation.  You think then, I have made it through.  Now I will start to be able to catch up on my sleep!!

What you fail to realize at that point is that sadly you will never really sleep again…and here’s why:

Developmental Milestones:

Well, nobody really mentioned this to me that I can recall.  All I know is that I had a baby that just barely slept through the night and the next thing I know he’s up being a total asshole all night, crying and drooling everywhere.

I was ill-prepared for the following 18 months that required me to pump my baby with various anti-inflammatory and pain-relieving medicines to get even close to a full night of sleep.

That’s correct – babies teethe for 2 solid years.  So put that in your hat and smoke it – new mothers.

After that whole fucking fiasco is over with – you will think you are in the clear.  After 2 years and 9 months of no sleeping – finally you will have a chance to rest.

Guess what it’s time for?

Potty Training:

I just could not wait to have my kids out of diapers.  Poor Michael was 18 months old when I had Sam so I tried to get him out of diapers sooner than he was probably ready for – just out of selfish monetary necessity.

While I might have saved some money in the Pampers aisle and thoroughly enjoyed lighting my diaper genie on fire once and for all…I had not anticipated what would happen at night.

Poor Michael peed the bed every night for what felt like 10 years (but was actually 1 year.)

I think if one were to want to commit some sort of medieval tortures they would let said person go to sleep – and then wake them by a crying toddler, and then force them to strip urine soaked sheets, change a urine soaked crying child, and then put a fresh, clean FITTED FUCKING SHEET on the mattress at 2 AM.

Nothing can prepare you for this.  At a certain point you will find other ways to deal with this….

The pediatrician told me that children (boys especially) have no control at night of their bladders and finally after many nights of stripping the bed and changing sheets in the middle of the night, we started buying Pull-ups.

We then let Michael wear a pull-up until he was about 10 just so we could sleep.

Night Terrors:

But alas – I made the irrational choice to have Sam when Michael was 18 months old – so I had to start the cycle of no sleep torture all over again.

Sam offered a special new feature to the “You will never sleep again” cycle.

Something apparently called “Night Terrors” which involve said child to sit straight up in his bed in the middle of the night usually starting right about when you are going to bed and screaming at the top of his lungs as though Freddy Krueger has come to kill him.

Sam would scream as though he was in a horror movie all night long from age 2 until quite recently (age 7.)  It’s a horror movie scream so it will wake you up from your sleep immediately.

You will think first “Am I being murdered?”

A quick assessment – and “No,”

“Is my child being murdered?”

A quick assessment- and “Maybe.”

You will run to the child’s room and he will be screaming as though he is being murdered – his eyes might even be open – but there’s no reasoning with this possessed being.

He will scream and convulse in his “night terror” until his “REM sleep cycle is over” – aka (ALL FUCKING NIGHT.)


After months and years of this – I found myself shaking him vigorously trying to wake him.  I would be in a sleep-deprived state – screaming “WAKE THE FUCK UP!!!” to no avail.

So – that was until he was about 6.

So… then I was about 8 years sleep deprived….no-biggie.


Night terrors are not to be confused with night MARES!

My kids (and maybe all kids these days) are fucking chicken shit – scaredy babies.

I have blogged about how I have lost many nights of valuable sleep due to the ANNABELLE MOVIE TRAILER.

That’s just one example…

There’s no end to the things that might frighten your child and keep him or her up all night long.  They will torture your life and make you get into bed with them.

You will say “No – go to bed.” several times – and then maybe the third time that they wake you up standing over you begging to get into your bed you will give in because your eyeballs and brain cannot keep up with these middle of the night requests.

This will result in elbows and knees in your face and stomach all night long – prohibiting your body from resting.  Your husband (who is a smart man) will leave at some point to seek rest and peace in one of the children’s beds….

Sometimes he will take a picture of his bed before he leaves:

Please note that I am being strangled by various arms and am face down with my neck at a precarious angle....

Please note that I am being strangled by various arms and am face down with my neck at a precarious angle….


Just when you think you are in the clear.

Maybe there is no good reason for your kids to be awake at 3 AM.  So you settle down for a long winter’s nap – and just when you think you might get a full night of sleep you will be met with a kid that is either coughing and gasping for air all night or barfing his brains out.

You will find yourself instead of sleeping in your bed peacefully – rinsing vomit-soaked sheets and rubbing your child’s back all night.

It’s a torture that nobody can prepare you for – you don’t even know how your body is moving but you will remove that dreaded fitted sheet – yet again – and you will remake the bed……again.

They simply don’t want to go to bed:

When everything is aligned perfectly and your children are feeling good, their teeth have come in, they don’t have a stomach bug and they have nothing to be scared of – they suddenly just don’t want to go to bed.

Mr. Gaga and I love going to bed more than anything.

We find ourselves at events, including a wedding this weekend -where all we do is dream of going to bed.

We think about the joy of coming home, kicking off our shoes, taking off of our spanx, and diving head-first into the luxurious pool of heaven that our bed offers.

Possibly every single night that we go to bed, we crawl in and we say aloud things like “Thank you Jesus!” as we pull our sheets and blankets onto our tired bodies, or sometimes “I love you bed!”

But not our children!

They don’t ever want to go to their beds.

Every night I chase them around for 30 minutes trying to get them to go to their beds.

When they finally are settled I will go downstairs.

Without fail – EVERY NIGHT!! they will go into each other’s room, wander to the bathroom or wander downstairs to tell me of some bizarre reason why they cannot go to bed.

EVERY NIGHT!! I will spend the next 30 minutes screaming shut the fuck up and go to fucking bed 

rubbing backs, applying band-aids, assuring them there is nothing to be afraid of, warning of missing the bus in the morning, etc. etc,.

When that doesn’t work – I will go upstairs and shut off every light I can find and threaten their lives…

Sometimes they will find secret lighting devices and I will have to confiscate those….

Finally they will go their beds when they have no other options.

This is a lengthy process…

You are old:

A few nights will come along – when you find that everything falls into place that you can go to bed and get a full night’s sleep.

Those are the night’s that you will find yourself staring up at the ceiling thinking about all that you have to do and all that you should be stressed about.

Your neck and back might hurt.

You might have an injury from your Zumba class.

You might have indigestion or heartburn.

You will have to get up to pee.

You won’t be able to sleep.

Because….well….you were supposed to be sleeping approximately ten years ago and now that ship has sailed….

Now your old… and you have restless leg syndrome.

You will sabotage yourself:

Even still – you might find yourself with your partner planning a night that you will purposely go to bed late.

Your kids are older now and maybe they sleep a little better – so why not stay up and have some fun?

You will have a night of drinking alcohol, or going out on a date, or watching reality television.

You will continue to do this – despite the fact that it will take a full week to recover from such a wild night.

You will regret it the following morning – but you will do it again anyways.

Thank God I have Mr. Gaga to be the voice of reason – most times that I suggest such an evening:

photo (1)

When all is said and done – we are destined to be tired for awhile.

I am hoping when we retire after the kids go to college and get married we can catch some zzz’s – but that might be unrealistic.

As usual….consider yourself warned people.






Last week some Florida schools were considering creating a mandatory dress code for parents.


I know we are all thinking the same thing.  Florida schools are some of the worst in the country, surely they should be talking about teaching the children to read or spell or something.

However, before we are too quick to point out how dumb they are …..they might be on to something.

I know I wouldn’t mind if the Goopville Board of Ed put their foot down and started making some dress code rules around here.

I have drafted some guidelines for when they are ready to make it happen.  I am guilty of some these offenses and I think it would be nice if we could all get our acts together so that we don’t all mill about at our children’s school looking like a bunch of meth addicts:

Dress Code Rule#1 – Pajamas should not be worn after 8 am:

Listen you crusty disgusting pajama wearers…just how bad is your life that we have to look at this?

You can’t wake up like 5 minutes earlier and put on a god damn outfit?

What kind of message are you sending to your children and my children when you arrive anywhere (even the bus stop) in your crusty Old Navy performance fleece pajamas?

Is life such a struggle for you that you can’t take two minutes and throw on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt?

Just because you are not attending a workplace environment does not give you the license to wear sleepwear during the daylight hours.

I mean does your husband come home from work to find you in the pajamas you slept in the night before? It’s bad enough for those of us who unfortunately have to interact with you at the school but how long do you think you’re going to pull this before he gets a girlfriend?


GET DRESSED PEOPLE!! It takes two seconds, and it let’s us know that you haven’t given up on life.


Dress code rule #2 – Stop wearing ugly shoes.

If you stop wearing sleepwear – please don’t take your feet out of slippers only to slip them in to something unsightly.

I understand everyone might not follow the fashion trends and keep up to speed on all of the hot footwear news.  I am totally guilty of attending the kids’ classrooms in Uggs or Nikes.

However, I cannot understand why here in Goopville I see many, many women and MEN who arrive to pick up their children or volunteer at their child’s school wearing jeans and this shoe:


This is a Merrell for those of you fashionable people who don’t know about such offensive things.

It’s for people who care SO  MUCH that their FOOT IS COMFORTABLE that they actually put these on every morning and head out the door!!!

People in this town just walk around with these bad boys on with a pair of white tube socks and mom jeans like it’s perfectly normal.

I’m sorry – are you actually hiking up Mt. Everest directly after school?

Do you have very bad bunions or corns on your foot and that requires you to wear geriatric like footwear?

Are you over the age of 70 years old?

Are you participating in the Tough Mudder competition after school?

I simply cannot fathom what would make a person wear these shoes around town as though it was perfectly acceptable.

DRESS CODE RULE #3 – No sweatpants, especially when worn by fathers:

First things first – sweatpants are pajamas in disguise.  You are not fooling anyone when you arrive in a public place wearing sweatpants.  Especially when they are of the elastic ankle variety.

Now, I understand it can get confusing because “workout clothes” have become somewhat the norm.

Somehow gym clothes have snuck into suburbia as acceptable daytime clothing.  I am guilty of it myself.  I go to the gym first thing in the morning and then I run a bunch of errands on my way home.  So basically I leave the gym with big sunglasses on,  zip my sweaty body into my lululemon hoodie and pray that nobody sees me.

However, I try to at least match and wear somewhat stylish gym clothes if I think I am attending the children’s school.

I certainly don’t arrive in sweatpants!

Many women wear their little lululemon outfits so that we know that they are very busy doing yoga and spinning and eating a gluten-free diet.

Then theirs the others that wear their sweats because they are too lazy to put on proper clothing.

The rule should be – if you arrive in exercise clothing – then you should be in some sort of fit shape.

MEN ESPECIALLY LISTEN UP! Don’t show up all fat and doughy wearing workout clothing to try to impress us….

Please wear some sort of loose-fitting Puma outfit or something.   Don’t wear sweatpants that are so tight I can see the outline of your balls for the love of Jesus!



This rule isn’t about “Dress” per se, but it’s about overall appearance.

At what point do you look in the mirror and see gray hair and an uneven, aging complexion and just smile and walk out the door?

Nothing says “I wish I was dead” more than a 38-year-old walking around with gray wiry hairs sticking out of a mangled ponytail that hasn’t been cut since the 1980’s and a rosacea filled face.

If you have gray hair and you are not in your 60’s then you must color the hairs.  It is very simple.

If you don’t have a lot of time or money you can do it yourself at home.

The same goes for your face.

“I don’t like to wear makeup.”

“I don’t like the feel of makeup on my face.”

“I don’t think I really need to wear makeup.”

“I don’t have time to wear makeup.”

My husband doesn’t like me to wear makeup.”


You look like a piece of shit.

I’m not quite sure what kind of glorious stuff you are seeing in the mirror in the morning but from where we are looking you can use a little something.

Here comes Heidi Klum walking down the street looking all naturally beautiful with no makeup on.  Does she say “I’m so beautiful that I am not going to wear makeup because I don’t need it?”



She puts on some fucking makeup.

Guess what?

Here’s the kicker.

You’re not Heidi Klum.


Whether it’s pajamas, yoga pants or your mom jeans -please choose clothes that are your size.

I know the years have not been kind, and believe me I have a muffin top that rivals no other.

However the children should not have to be subjected to seeing their friend’s mother or father wearing clothes that are too tight.

I see women that constantly wear too tight yoga pants that show every roll and cellulite dimple. And to add insult to injury I can see their maternity underwear outline perfectly.

Why are you subjecting us to this?

Why are you subjecting yourself to this?

Do you know that from the back you look like a garbage bag filled with doorknobs?

Do you know that when you are wearing spandex clothing you must wear a thong? It’s non-negotiable.

Is this because you have completely given up on life?

Also – have you considered the damage you are doing to the children if you go into the school to volunteer wearing clothes that don’t fit properly?

Do you think it’s fair to them that when they are trying to do their work at their desks they are at eye level to this?


Come on parents! Get your shit together!!!!

Let’s go back to the days when mothers cared what they looked like as to not embarrass their children.  Let’s give the children of America someone to look up to as civilized members of society; not someone who looks like a homeless ragamuffin.




Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 2,146 other followers

%d bloggers like this: