All posts for the month April, 2017


Published April 18, 2017 by sarcasmica

Being a stay at home mom has turned my brain into Jello. This is not to say i’m not smart, that’s the frustrating part. I am…or I was once. I am lightening quick with vomit, diahrrea (pets or small human) laundry, finding appropriate snacks. I am more often than not Superhero levels of psychic when planning for an outing and having what may be required in any given situation. I have figured out how to make a meal for 4-5 people out of toothpicks, peanut butter  and soy sauce. I have wrangled Santa lore, Easter Bunny theory and Tooth Fairy visits all while navigating a freeway and dropped goldfish crackers.

Sometimes I’m kind of a badass. Then I get kicked in the nuts with how insufficiently i am prepared to deal solely with professional adults. Communicating with grown ups is not more complicated, but it has bigger consequences when you do it wrong.

Currently I am supposed to be coordinating with a designer to whip our new house into shape…preferrably the shape of a home people compliment you on when you walk in. A home where you feel shame for leaving dirty socks outside of a hamper…a home where there is something called a hamper. 

Y’all, I dont know what the hangup is, but scheduling and coordinating other adults is like wrangling sloths with ADD. With kids you can blame the kids. Maybe they forgot English. Maybe their ears were switched into the ‘off’ position. Maybe the TV reprogrammed their prefrontal cortex. With another grown up, there seems to be a disconnect in my own brain. I dont know if its because I overthink it all out of habit, or i’m clinically just stupid now. It’s amost depressing, but I can’t be bothered to care that just means people’s expectations of me are now below what they would expect from my 6 year old.

If I follow through with an appointment or promise without having to apologize for some portion of the process I am impressed with myself.

The upside: the PTA has not requested me for any jobs. 
Disclaimer: I now must apologize for any misspelled or incomprehensible thoughts as my iPhone word press app no longer babysits my spelling/spellchecks.  Frankly nowadays we are no longer expected to identify this shit for ourselves anymore. 😱


Spring Chicken

Published April 11, 2017 by sarcasmica

My kids are on spring break and it’s gonna break my brain. We have a deal in our house where the kids can have crappy sugary cereal only if they are on a school break. .. and it’s supposed to be within reason.

This morning has me wanting to burn down every box of Cap’n Crunch Peanut Butter Crunch in all the land.

I grabbed a box the other day because they were only $1.99. I mean, it’s cheaper than a vat of ice cream and even more delicious. Seemed fool-proof.

This morning I wake up first at 3 to handle someone’s bad dream, then my back screamed me awake at 6am and somewhere around 7 my husband’s alarm went off. Needless to say I was just shy of Disney Princess when I finally gave in and woke up.

My oldest, my dearly beloved eldest offspring, came tearing up the stairs virtually asking to not make it to 11. I nearly obliged… nearly. Instead I tried to convince him sitting in my master closet would be a great “reset” for the morning.

He didn’t quite fall for it.

Throughout the struggle I discovered both children had no less than THREE BOWLS of cereal this morning.

mmmm kay. let’s not do that again. Cap’n Crunch is now Cap’n Flushed.

So games were lost for the day, crying ensued, I didn’t care, and I moved right along…. into my daughter’s bedroom whereupon I find that her male hamster is either pregnant or bloated. The male parts convinced me bloated was more realistic. The little guy trotted all over in the ball on the floor, though. The clincher was the smooshy poo he left on the hamster ball wall.

Pets are not for the faint of heart. His fur was unkempt, his tummy bloated – more on one side than the other – and he had a wet tail…. hence “wet tail” was assumed.

Then I get a text from the playdate mom “are we still on for this morning?”


Because i’ve been in a furniture vortex for the last three days, I completely misunderstood a very simple email exchange that was indeed in English stating a drop off and pick up time. My muddled brain just couldn’t comprehend it though and so I dropped them off 25 minutes late cutting the play time short by nearly half an hour.

What the f*ck ever.

Mixed into all of this was a deadline to order a sofa we finally agreed on over the weekend. We discovered a satanic game the furniture stores seem to all be in on. It goes something like this:

“We love this, how long is the sale on?”
“Tomorrow is the last day.”

This one store in particular added a fun new bonus round.

“Pick your own pillow fabric! Customize! Circumsize! Dramatize!”
“Great! What are our options?”
And a wall opens up with a thousand fabrics to choose from.. but wait! There’s more! There are online options, too!

Choosing a pattern and fabric for the cushions on this couch took more intervention, iteration, and discussion than naming either child. .. and it all had to be done in less than 24hours.

So I dropped the kids off, peeled out of the drive way, got home in time to circulate through the patterns online, chose my third combination and finalized it, scanned, emailed, coordinated with all parties involved in color-choosing our new house and studied up on all manner of wet tail antidotes.

Then I picked up the kids because, BOOOOOP! Times up! Ran to the pet store, phoned a second furniture order, and proceeded to wait around for 10 minutes until the one soul in all of Petsmart could coach me on the right combo of things to fix the rodent pet. The veterinarian housed right inside the store could not help me. *face palm*

I got home in time to organize a little quiet time for the kids where I got to doze on the couch and fantasize about a nap and then it was off to fencing practice.

This is where I say how thankful and happy and lucky and blessed and wonderful life is because we have our wonderful cherubs of perfection. … but in reality this is the day where from the minute your eyes open, you just can’t wait to punch it in the throat, bury it, and call it a day.

I am looking very much forward to tomorrow when my biggest worry is whether or not I will leave my volunteer gig with all the parrots with all of my fingers.

No time outs, no video game management, no cereal police, no refereeing, just beaks and poop!



Playdate Pain

Published April 6, 2017 by sarcasmica

I’m gonna get real with y’all. I’m terrible at adulting. Nothing highlights that more than being a parent. All the mingling at school, pick up, drop off, playdates.

It’s hell for this introvert! I am not at all comfortable with small talk and chit chat. I see it as a huge waste of time. It’s not like that crap lets you get to know a person. Your feelings about the weather do not concern me. Your chatter about your husband’s job will not be remembered.


My son has allowed me to live in a hermit bubble because his friend lives next door. The interaction I have with the parents is minimal and it’s familiar because Hello! We live next door. It’s comfortable without being forced….. usually.

My daughter, however, is little miss parade float. She high fives and waves and “hello!”s every kid in her class and all the kids in the other kinder class and a few of the 1st graders and a couple 2nd graders.


I’ve had 2 playdates requested and completed as it is and now I have #3 today. I’m TERRIBLE with follow up. Awful. I did not invite those two other playdate requesters to our house for a reciprocated play date.

Sue me.

My house is a mess, I’m disorganized, we have a smelly hamster cage and a dog that barks when the scent of a new human is wafted through a window. I have a kid that goes to practice twice a week resulting in a 30 mile round trip event in the heart of rush hour traffic. I volunteer twice a week with ear drum-rupturing decibel level creatures that want to remove my fingers, I hopefully get to sneak in breakfast or lunch or coffee with a friend at least once a week between all of that.

I like the rare quiet down time that I do occasionally get. I don’t want to have to worry about entertaining a person I don’t know and likely wont know after this year because we are moving.

This all makes me a terrible bitchy anti-social human being, right?

My husband met the dad of the first one-playdate-stand we had at a daddy/daughter dance I made him go to. I had to justify why he’s never heard of the kid or the dad before.

It’s not that they weren’t nice. The mom was SUPER nice. Really polite. Quite cordial and friendly.

Unfortunately for her and my daughter, I don’t know what to do with that. I can’t relate. I’m not ‘nicey-nice’ and that’s what’s expected of you when you trot your daughter around to princess playdates.

We are more of a super hero family that dabbles in princesses. And these days you are a neglectful parent if you don’t run down a laundry list of awkward questions before crossing the threshold. I can’t just drop my kid off. Stranger danger! Do they have guns? Do they have a teenage boy? Do they have a face-ripping monster pet? Do they have a creek in the back yard? Do they have a bomb shelter? Donate organs? Feed the homeless? Leave their car unlocked? Doors unlocked? Stairs? Peanut allergy? Oxygen allergy? Sunlight intolerant?

It’s not as easy as “MOM! I’m riding my bike over to Mikey’s house, k? BYE!!!!”

And no, those weren’t “the days”. I had many an unwise unchaperoned visit with friends growing up and frankly, I probably shouldn’t be alive. This is not a knock on anyone, it’s just how things were in the 80’s. (actually it was how it was done up until the 90’s!)

I will do my best to keep my kids reasonably upright and functioning. I’m a stay at home mom, so it’s sort of expected … I think. The employment contract I signed is sort of vague.

So today’s playdate at least has a kid for each kid. Little kinder sister, big 5th grade brother. It’s a double play date. I was given the option to just drop them off and go …. something i’d probably appreciate if I were a nice enough human being to invite other small humans to my house accompanied by their parents, but I feel irresponsible dropping and leaving BOTH kids in a house I have never been in with people I do not know. I guess I can at least stay for coffee before peeling out of the driveway

Plans and Paint

Published April 5, 2017 by sarcasmica

Current project: Figure out a design for the new house.

Current status: Clueless

I have done the unimaginable and hired a designer. I need help. I, apparently, am easily overwhelmed. Funny how this happens more and more the older you get. I guess my cup o’ shit is running close to full a lot because the minute someone hovers above it with a handful of more, I start twitching.

Not that this process is anywhere near “shit” status. It’s not. I am just out of my depth. I blame HGTV, Chip and Joanna, Pinterest, and life. I am no longer satisfied with garage sale furniture forced to function and ADD walls with one color over there, another color in the bathroom, and a totally separate color in the hall. It’s time to live like the grown up I’m pretending to be, and the government insists that I am.

BLEND, bitches, BLEND!

The beautiful house we bought has some color scheme issues. The entry is green, the living area is sand, and the kitchen and TV room is burnt orange.


And the home office is green and the guest room is burn-your-eyes-out blue, one bedroom is regurgitated yellow, another is pleasant boy blue, and the master ceiling – just the ceiling – is ocean sky blue.



I mean, seriously. The painter we met at the house was just like, “Huh?”

So we are de-patching and wholly unifying. We are gonna bring that space together, but in order to do that, I need a professional. A low-cost, fairly noob-ish designer. You know, one that is still driving around the Escape and not yet into the Mercedes.

I met her at the house and she helped me narrow down a color. It’s beautiful, I love it, but now I’m wondering how big the project is going to get. Not because she’s pushing, but because I just want to do this once.

We are trying to upscale the furniture a bit so we have to not only pick wall colors that match mantles and carpet and hardwoods, but also that lend to some creative furniture ideas and colors.

DELFT by sherwin-williams

This gets overwhelming quickly.

Is it happy hour yet?


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