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Gaga Signs of Summer

It’s beginning to look at lot like summer.

NOT because my kids have even been out of school a week yet! And NOT because the sun has been shining in grand old Connecticut, and NOT because I have even the slightest hint of a tan!

There are other tell-tale signs that it’s summer in the Gaga household.

First things first – my book club takes a summer hiatus so I promptly swap out my intellectual reads for the good stuff….

As I have mentioned before – I like to kind of check-out during the summer months.

I mean how much perfect mothering am I supposed to do? How many months a year can I keep up the façade??

The answer is 10…10 months is all I can do.

July and August is time to relax.

During the school year I try to hide hideous clothing that makes my children look like the rest of the little boys in our town.

The popular look in town among small boys is a look that is best-described as a homeless child with high-water pants, uncombed hair, and ratty t-shirts from Walmart.  It is a strange phenomenon but inevitably the children with the most educated, wealthy and well-dressed parents will usually look the most homeless.

Now that I am in summer-mode, I don’t really care what the kids wear, I don’t care if they match, and as a special treat I even dug out this hideous thing for Sam that I had hidden in the back of his closet.

I don't care if he wears this everyday...he will be lucky if I even wash it....

I don’t care if he wears this everyday…he will be lucky if I even wash it….

The last morning of school (which was Tuesday by the way due to Storm Sandy) there was not one ounce of my soul that wanted to make one more fucking healthy lunch for my children.

Everything has to be just perfect, and this kid won’t eat turkey and this kid won’t eat strawberries and this kid wants to sit with his friend who hates peanut butter.

The kid’s school has taken on a campaign to eat healthy and foods are divided up into categories to tell how bad they are.

They are either “Go” which means healthy, “slow” which means kind of healthy and “Whoa” meaning not healthy at all and you are a fat piece of shit and dangerously close to riding a motorized cart around Disney World.

If I had to endure one more early morning of  listening to the kids tell me that putting popcorn or granola bars in their lunch isn’t good because they are “slow” foods, while simultaneously heating up Italian Wedding Soup (the only thing Michael will eat) and making a pepperoni sandwich (Sam’s preferred lunch) I was going to slit my throat.

The last day of school couldn’t come fast enough.

So the minute they got home from school I emptied out their lunch boxes and opened the basement door and drop-kicked those Pottery Barn rip-offs down the stairs.

This was their lunch today and yesterday and possibly everyday until September:

This is called "nutella and fluff" ....introduced to my children by my father.   It's a "no food" for's a "no-sandwich."

This is called “Nutella and fluff” ….introduced to my children by my father.  This can also be referred to as a “whoa sandwich.”

I also am so happy to not have to wake up and go to that god-damned bus stop.  I like to use July and August to catch up on lost sleep.  I instruct the children to not bother me under any circumstance and try to leave a healthy breakfast readily accessible for them in the morning.

Thank you Mr. Kellogg for being a genius and inventing the miniature cereal box. I love you.

Thank you Mr. Kellogg for being a genius and inventing the miniature cereal box. I love you.

This summer I think I am going to attempt to lay off the wine and be in more of a vodka-induced haze.  It seems more summer-y.

This is my new favorite summer beverage, I currently have a big old jug of it calling my name.

smirnoff-tuscan-lemonadeMr. Gaga of course takes things to a whole other level.

A jug of something doesn’t cut it.

Once summer hits the kids and I usually try to hit the road and live at the beach as much as possible.  Of course, like any responsible and caring wife I leave Mr. Gaga a very long “to-do” list.

So today on the first day we have had free to do what we please, he was very busy fixing the leaky kitchen faucet, painting the bathroom, installing something very important on the deck.

In case you were wondering this is called a "keg-erator."  It holds 120 beers.

In case you were wondering this is called a “keg-erator.” It holds 120 beers.

Despite the fact that it’s supposed to rain for the next 5 days…the Gaga’s are ready for summer.

If you happen to see a fat lady drinking spiked lemonade, eating fluff sandwiches, reading an US Weekly, and ignoring filthy children in Ninja Turtle shirts  you just might have figured out my identity.

Please click on the banner below to vote for me as one of the top mommy blogs in America!  Happy Summer!!




Beach Mode

We are on vacation – which means that LADY GOO GOO GAGA is no longer interested in parenting or caring for her children.  Her top priorities are eating food, drinking wine, and reading US Weekly on the beach.

As a result, my children now eat a steady rotation of CARS 2 cereal, Fluffernutters, and hot dogs.  (Add in an ice cream from the ice cream man and that about rounds out the daily meal.)  As I have mentioned before, I am Italian and I take food very seriously – so this meal plan is a clear indication of how “checked out” I actually am.

The other day on the beach I was attempting to read my book, The Hunger Games Trilogy, and ignoring my children.  I was rudely interrupted  by mothers screaming from the boardwalk that my children were spitting water at each other – and apparently getting their saliva on others in the process.  I had to put my book down and get up and walk to the boardwalk.  On my way, a mother – (from what do you know – my hometown!!! They follow me everywhere) says…

“Your children are spitting at each other…and getting water on everyone.”

You know what? It’s the effing beach….so I don’t care if someone got a little spit on them – we just swam in the Long Island Sound all day.  Do you really think a little water and saliva from a 4-year-old is going to make or break the germ situation?  Why did I just have to put down my beach book to deal with this bullshit? I AM ON VACATION.

This isn't me - but we are thinking the same thing - "I don't know where my kids are - and I don't care."

This isn’t me, it is Britney Spears – but we are thinking the same thing – “I don’t know where my kids are – and I don’t care.”

All parenting is on hiatus.  Oh – what’s that?  One more episode of Spongebob Squarepants?? Sure. Sounds awesome.  Let me just have another glass of wine.

Oh, what did you say?  Your brother just catapulted you out of the hammock and you hit your head on the metal pole? Oh – that’s sad for you – here’s an ice cream sandwich.

What? I can’t hear you over the sound from the blender making Miami Vices!  You want to go climb on the rocks by the beach and pee on them instead of going to the bathroom?   Sounds great!!!

Poor kids – hopefully the slight relief of helicopter parenting will benefit them – maybe one day they will say – “Remember when we were little and we would go on vacation to the beach – and Mommy never watched us or talked to us and let us do whatever we wanted? Good times…”



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