Aww, Shucks…


I nearly forgot about this little beauty. Yes, the glamorous blogger lifestyle has left me so jaded, that I now ignore awards that have been passed to me by my fellow bloggers. *le sigh* Besides, one should always appear humble when in the public eye, right? “Oh, this old thing? That’s just my Nobel Prize Versatile Blogger Award. Don’t you have one?”

Except, I’m really just tickled pink whenever someone is so inclined to include me in the blogging reindeer games. In this case, it was the amazing Mancakes, who so generously picked me to be on her list of fifteen bloggers to receive this sweet award. Thank you, thank you, you lovely and talented lady!

Here, in no particular order, are my fifteen choices:

1. The Waiting

2. Memoirs of a Mom Who Ticks

3. Ned’s Blog

4. Doodlemum

5. I Don’t Get It

6. The Jaded Apothecary

7. whiny baby

8. The Real Full House

9. Raising My Rainbow

10. B(itch) Log

11. Icescreammama

12. The Byronic Man

13. the ramblings

14. Momma Be Thy Name

15.  Small Potatoes


Apparently, I am now supposed to divulge 7 random facts about myself.

1. I already had five kids when I met my husband. This either makes him really brave, or certifiably insane. It also may say a lot about my feminine wiles. *winkwink*

2. I hate to wear shoes and will almost always choose flip flops over other footwear. For some odd reason, I do have a closet full of shoes.

3. I was raised by a single mother (God love her) and her gay male friends. I am convinced that this is where my wit and my flair for the dramatic was born. I’m not saying that all gay men are dramatic, but oh my, my mama knew some doozies.

4. I moved to Colorado from San Francisco when I was 15. Talk about culture shock…

5. I have a serious nerd crush on Stephen Colbert. My husband is aware of said crush, yet I don’t believe he feels at all threatened. Weird…

6. I’m 37 and just voted for the first time in November. That’s all I’m going to say, as I refuse to discuss politics with people I like.

7. My favorite word in the English language is “smitten”. Aww…


Alrighty friends…go spread some love.

Momma’s Little Stalker


Ugh…I’m exhausted.

My youngest kiddo, Jude (aka Juder, JujuBe, Baby Jude or Scrud), is going through the most heinous case of separation anxiety I’ve ever seen. And the object of his very intense affection, would be your’s truly.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s nice to know that I’m so completely adored. I’d just like to pee by myself occasionally. Or, shower without him pounding on the bathroom door, while shrieking “momma” over and over, as I race to lather and rinse. There’s no time to repeat. Shave my legs? No time.

My poor husband takes a fair amount of abuse at the hands of our little tyrant. Nothing says “I love you, daddy” quite like your precious son screaming and attempting to backflip out of your arms as he tries to reach his beloved momma.

You’d think after raising five children prior to him, that I’d be an expert in child psychology and have some magical “cure” for his mommy issues. Yeah, right. You want to know how I’ve dealt with this in the past? I suffered. I waited. I let each of my little monsters blessings work through their anxiety in their own time.

Martyr you say? Maybe. It’s a tough job, but someone has to do it.

Hey, you…ummm…kid?

Yesterday, I was informed that my 7 year old daughter, Cami, had moved to Africa. This was news to me, as the small person who told me about this situation looked an awful lot like Cami. Apparently, Cami has switched families with a child from Africa, named Alex. Alex has impeccable manners and plays nicely with Cami’s younger brothers. I kind of really like Alex. What I don’t like, is having to remember this new kid’s name. I’m a mother of 6, for crying out loud…I can barely remember their “real” names. Hell, they’re lucky if I don’t call them one of the dog’s names. But, if calling her Alex is all it takes to turn her into a sweet angel child, by golly, I’ll do it! Is it wrong to make your children wear name tags?Image

Because I’m the Momma, That’s Why

Dear Children,
Please do not question why I get two pieces of candy, while you only get one. Being a grown-up isn’t “fun”, nor am I “lucky”. This grown-up gig is hard. It’s all bills, and laundry, and clogged toilets. Staying up late and eating whatever I want are the primary perks of this job. Let me enjoy them in peace.

Your exhausted mother