Last saturday I woke up to see that I had a voicemail from my Mom. I walked down into my kitchen to get my coffee while listening to the message. I pressed play but heard nothing. Pulling the phone away from my ear I read the transcription, but still heard no audio recording. I stopped the message and hit play again. Still nothing. On my third attempt, the garage door opened and my husband yelled for me. At the same moment I heard my Mom’s voice coming through the speakers of my car. My husband had my car running in the garage while he was making sure the tires were all properly filled. I like my music loud so the volume in my car is usually cranked up. This day was no exception. My mom’s voice was coming through the car speakers like she was running up and down the street with a bullhorn. And it was repeating since I had been standing there pressing play over and over again. Shaking his head with a smirk, my husband told me to turn off the MB blue tooth. I did and the message immediately played through my phone speaker. Problem solved. (more…)
I have a love/hate relationship with Costco. I love the people watching and I hate the worst of humanity that I see while people watching. Yesterday was a prime example of the worst of humanity. We were approaching the center aisle and coming directly at us was a mother and her two children. The boy who looked about 8 years old was busy trying not to walk into a display of Mikasa flatware while playing with a rubik’s cube. His sister who looked about 2 years older was having a conversation with the mother while skipping beside the cart. I caught the tail end of the conversation which went something like this:
Daughter: “…well you compare us to other kids all the time.”
Mother: “That’s because you are a bratty little miserable shrew!”
Wait, what?!? Did I just hear that? I waited for the mother to start laughing. This had to be a joke. But there was no laughter, there was not even a snicker indicating some inside joke. This mother was dead serious. And I hate to point out the obvious but the mother may have been projecting just a little based on the look on her face, otherwise known as “miserable shrew”. She made resting bitch face look like a smile.
We sped down the aisle to escape as quickly as possible while I turned to my husband and asked “I just heard that, right?” He confirmed that I did in fact hear just what I thought I did to which I replied “wow, it’s the mother of the year!!” We spent the next twenty minutes trying to avoid this family with little luck. In fact, the mother was proven right when the little girl passed our cart in between the blueberries and oranges and said “excuse me” as she passed. How dare she be polite to strangers. What a brat!
To all the parents who think they are doing a bad job, do yourself a favor and take a trip to Costco. You will see just how good of a job you are doing. Unless of course you are calling your child a miserable little shrew, and then you are doing a bad job as a parent. But please, if this is you, still go to Costco, you are making me truly feel like the real mother of the year!
This is what we do for fun in our house. Unfortunately it does not look like I am having fun. I really am, but I am such a bad drummer that I have to focus 100% on counting in my head. It’s tough to be in a band with an actual musician and a five year old who channels Cherie Currie. I don’t care if I am the worst drummer to ever pick up a set of sticks, playing in our little family band is some of the most fun I have ever had. Enjoy. There will be more videos to come. We are currently working on some punk rock!
My husband texted me last week to let me know that the check had arrived from the people who bought our rental property and didn’t change the DTE account into their name. I replied with a text that I was happy they did not send a bag of walnuts like I had expected. He then sent me this picture: (more…)
My whole family spent Saturday putting away Christmas decorations and organizing. While I was packing up the snow globes and attempting to get four tons of glitter out of the couch cushions, my husband kept our five year old preoccupied in her playroom organizing. She had already spent a large portion of the morning helping take the ornaments off the tree, but after almost driving me into apoplexy by swinging my annual Swarovski snowflake ornaments around her little finger like a tassel I banished her to an entirely separate floor of the house. Off she went to organize her toys. This would probably not be a fun thing for most kids, but it seems that my little mini-me may have a predisposition for organizing.