WTF - New Mom vs Seasoned Mom

New Mom only feeds home cooked organic oatmeal to her children for breakfast.
Seasoned Mom says no to the chocolate bar for breakfast then pours a big bowl of Captain Crunch.


New Mom watching child on the playground and says, "Be careful" with LOVE.
Seasoned Mom watching child and says "Be Careful" because she doesn't have time that afternoon for a trip to the ER, and said child is wearing white, no one ever gets blood out of white.


New Mom still say, "Why did you do that?"
Seasoned Moms know that is the most useless question out there along with, "Are you busy?"

New Moms have a 5 second rule.
Seasoned Moms have the "just blow the ants off of it, it's good," Rule.


New Moms keep a beach full of mismatched socks in case they find socks.
Seasoned Moms point to the bag saying, "That IS all of your socks."


New Moms think they can act asleep and the child will go on their merry way.
Seasoned Moms have learned the art of slowing their pulse into "death mode" in an attempt to get an extra 15 minutes on a Saturday morning.

New Moms always check expirations on food for their children.
Seasoned Moms have the "I sniffed it and didn't pass out, it's good" test on food.


New Moms have the kids and themselves dressed and out the door in time for school.
Seasoned Moms are late to school and have to walk their child wearing, "I wasn't planning on getting out of the car" style they love.


New Moms get the shit scared out of them at 330 in the morning when a child quietly walks to their bedside waiting for them to wake up.
Seasoned Moms feel the presence and go back to sleep figuring if its a serial killer there's not a whole lot they can do at 330 in the morning.


New Moms feel guilty when someone else is cleaning their home.
Seasoned Moms sit back with a glass of wine and watch.


New Moms gladly eat the fried skin of the chicken on their plate so the child can eat all the good stuff.
Seasoned Moms tell their kids the food on their plate is extremely spicy enjoying all the goodness for themselves.


New Moms keep a child home from school because they "don't feel well."
Seasoned Moms take all the lightbulbs out of the room so the child cannot put the thermometer on a hot bulb warming it up to "hell is on fire" temperature.


New Moms take the lunch back to school when it is forgotten.
Seasoned Moms figure the "I forgot to put money on your school lunch account so it is prison lunch for you," will teach them a lesson.


New Moms think a "beautiful well day" would be great, let me keep the kids home and enjoy them.
Seasoned Moms remember how well the last "well day"went and will never do that again.


New Moms give the kid being an ass in public a smile saying, "It's just one of those days."
Seasoned Moms give that child a look that says, "Remember there's only you and me when we get home.  Soon, my friend, soon."


New Moms lay out their clothes the night before.
Seasoned Moms tell them they are on their own picking up their clothes from the floor sniffing them to see if they are clean.


New Moms look at that mess thinking, "Oh well, at least he's being creative."
Seasoned Moms look at that mess thinking, "You'd better be cleaning something or fleeing in the next ten seconds."

WTF - Who's first?

WTF - Who's First?

There's sibling rivalry, then there's a whole new dose of it when it comes to being first.

First to the car in the morning for the front seat.

First into the bathroom to poop in the morning.

First to push the elevator button, this one, my friends was the worst.

We'd go to the doctor's office and the fight started over who gets to push the wheelchair button to automatically open the door.

Then I'd stare down the long grey carpeted hallway to the elevator at the end.
Just like the movies, the hallway would grow longer as I prepared for it.

Both boys would look at each other with a,

"Oh, it's ON buddy."

And when I say ON, I mean bigger and better than any Black Friday opening at a Walmart with only 3 TV's at a discount.

Both would start in a full run, the youngest tripping the oldest halfway down the hallway then resembling a running back jumping over him to get to the elevator first.

The oldest would jump up, pulling the youngest down by his shirt. Two people walking down the poor hallway would jump out of the way.

Both would crash into the elevator at the same time,

one with a millisecond advantage, pushing the elevator button first. The other screaming in frustration.

The other simply pushing the wrong button for the rush he missed in the showdown.

Then we move to who gets to push the button for our floor first.

So many people would say, "Oh, you go ahead, we'll take the stairs."

Now we move to who gets the front seat of the car on my carpool days. The boys have decided whoever calls "Shotgun" first gets the seat.

It started when they were sitting at breakfast, one looking to the other with a big smile saying, "Shot gun."

The the other got smart, opening the door to the bathroom pouring cold water on his brother saying, "Shot gun."

The youngest set his alarm 5 minutes earlier than his brother, getting out of bed walking to his room saying, "Shot gun."

Finally the oldest woke up in the middle of the night, called his brother's cell phone, leaving a message with a time stamp simply saying, "Shot gun."

I had to put a stop to it because we never made it out the door on time with all the arguing, even days the oldest gets it, odd days the youngest.

They are still arguing about it.

Oh the joys of childhood, arguing with your siblings,  wait, I still do that with my sisters,

It's over the last glass of wine in the bottle though.

WTF - Did My Phone Just Ring?

I'm sitting and relaxing, editing some work and all of a sudden I hear a strange noise.

What is that? I've never heard it before? Oh wait, it is vaguely familiar.

It's my phone ringing.

My first thought is, "Who in the world is calling me? Don't they know it is 2016 and people don't CALL each other anymore?"

Do Smart Phones receive phone calls?

Of course I recognize who it is, it's that person proclaiming they'll give up their Flip Phone when they pry it out of their cold dead hands.

I should answer it. I mean, it is the first phone call I've gotten this month.

I don't even answer my phone for phone sex.

But, feeling guilty I let the call go to Voicemail.

The person actually leaves a Voicemail message.

A VOICEMAIL! a 3 minute 27 second voicemail, are they telling me their life story?

Who listens to voicemails?

Where is voicemail on my phone?  I think there is one from my husband from 2013 sitting somewhere in there.

Then I feel guilty.

I know!

I'll just sent them a text message.

Then they'll know I had my phone, they'll know I ignored their call.

I could send an email, nobody ever reads emails.

No, I'll wait 15 minutes then send a text message, saying I can't get their voicemail because really, I can't find my voicemail.

I mean, I can't call them back, who makes phone calls these days?

Are you a Mother Lover?

Mother's Day Schmother's Day - Use The Card!

I started all sappy and stuff but, well, that's just not my jam.  So listen, here's the facts I know....

If you have children, you are a mother.
If you have fur babies, you are a mother.
You don't have to give birth to be called mother.
If you have feather babies, you are a mother.
If you love someone unconditionally, you are a mother.
If you have scale babies, you are a mother.
If you are the voice of reason for your friends, you are a mother.
If you have babies here on earth or in heaven, or in your heart, you are a mother.
You accepted a child into your heart, a friend of your child or a child in need, you are a mother.
If you listened, offered advice, or simply hugs to a mother, you are a mother.

OK, I'm done with all the sappy stuff,

Pull out the Mother's Day Card! Finally!

Remember all those jobs you keep asking your kids to do and they conveniently forget?  Pull out the Mother's Day card.

"Boys, remember I asked you boys to pickup the trash and the sticks from the backyard."

"But it's 36 degrees outside and snowing!"

"Well, it is Mother's Day."

"ugh!"

 This could also be called the Official Sit On Your Butt day. You don't have to get a thing!

"Honey see that Kleenex box across the room?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you get it?"

"What?"

"But it is Mother's Day."

Ugh."

Then wait for them to sit down, "Oh, can you get some sugar for my coffee?"

Then wait again for them to sit down, "My feet are cold, can you get me a pair of socks?"

You can pull the card anytime you want.

"Hey, let's watch Jaws together as a family."

"What, I thought we were going to watch The Human Centipede."

"But, it's Mother's Day."

"Ugh."

This is the let them do the cooking day, lay back and watch or better yet, film the chaos in the kitchen. I'll never forget my one Mother's Day where the boys brought me toast and a PBR for breakfast in bed.

The best is the end of the day, getting every inch out of the Mother's Day card until I have to put it away for another year.

"Boys, the dog ran off down the street after a skunk."

"What?"

"You need to go find her."

"She'll come back."

"But it's Mother's Day."

I think I heard one of them say, "Man, this is a long Mother's Day."

I've accomplished my mission. They get a taste of my daily life.

Sure, it's supposed to be sappy and sweet and all that sugary stuff. But when you are mother lover like me, I'd rather keep things real especially when I make them give me hugs and kisses (yes, even at their age) before they go to bed. I take those any day over chocolate or flowers.

Oh, and boys I'm waiting on all the "I love my Mom" Snapchats and Instagrams pictures!

WTF - How to write a sex scene

So a possible editor sent back one of romance manuscripts telling me I need a few "steamy" scenes.

Enter how to pull off the sex scene.

Read a bunch of porn, no I'm just kidding. My imagination is much better than that.

Sit in the living room, working on the scene, figuring out what three items should be included.

boobs?

Butt?

The big deal?

Then figure out how they are going to do it, not the Fifty Shades of Grey do it, but a normal, "romantic" sex scene do it.

Why can't they fade to black like most of the movies? Why is she asking me for details?

Oh FiFty Shades of Grey you ruined it for everyone.

So I start writing the scene, and soon get lost in the moment. Stopping periodically looking around the room.

It is surreal.

Here I am writing a sex scene and both of my boys are sitting and doing their homework. The Great Food Truck Race is playing on the TV, the dog is snoring on her bed. Everything so ordinary, then why am I sweating so much.

I plow into it, wondering,

"Seriously, does that ever really happen?" (Gazing into her luminous eyes, his breath caught at her beauty, gag gag!)

Then I move to, "Wait, I forgot the part where they stripped, how did they end up there from getting out of the car?

Finally, rereading thinking, "Is most of that humanly possible?"

I look up again and my perfectly normal household is continuing on, no one noticing my face is flushed and I am sweating.

Then I go back again over it again, please, not for the pleasure of it, because it is not right.

"Started a story as old as time?" Oh god, that sounds horrible.

"Pausing, he asked, Are you Sure?" Hell, they are already there, have to remove this line.

Crap, she had a white T-shirt in the beginning and now is putting on a black one, is she a quick change artist?

Finally, I get it the way I want it, going in the kitchen for a cool drink of water.

"Mom, are you OK?"

"Sure honey, just working on a few things."

"Why is your face so red? Are you having a hot flash?"

"Yes honey, it is a hot flash."

Then it hits me, they want this because it is good exercise for us women. Reading what I written, made my heartbeat rise, I used my arm muscles fanning my face, several muscles tensed (kegels anyone?) 

That's why we have to include these scenes in our novels, it is for the good of society.

It keeps everyone in shape.

Advice from the "cool" aunt.

Everyone has that one aunt, the crazy one.  Well, I thought being the crazy one, I'd share some tidbits of information to all my nieces and nephews.

Being cool is over rated. Being real is more important. So you know what, do that dance you have in your mind, even if it doesn't come out the way you pictured it.

Spoiling is the best form of bribing. Those of you with younger siblings know this because you've been using bribing to get out of trouble for years now. When they promise to not tell your sister about setting the house on fine and their parent find the new shirt you bought them, "I'm just spoiling him," you say.

Spoiling is a great way of getting back at your brother/sister.  "Here ya go Erma, just take one sip of my espresso and did you see the giant chocolate bar I got for you? Oh look Mom and Dad are ready to go home, here take the chocolate bar with you."

Children are the best excuses, you can use them to leave a party early. You can use them to take a nap when they are little. You can use them to explain why your hair looks the way it does. One of the benefits of having children is the ready made excuse they create for you. Use it.

Sibling's children are great ways of getting out of work at the family party. When someone needs help with the dishes, grab the nearest baby, see, your hands are full.  Don't want to play Twister, well someone has to hold the baby.

Always be willing to share, the green beans off of your plate, Aunt Mildred's Lime Jello/carrot/celery mold, that beautiful orange/green/white velour jogging suit from Grandma.

Don't worry about getting old, like me, you know 35 years old. Being older has its privileges, we can tell you what to do and you have to do it because we are older.

Don't forget to delete your browser history, especially if you are having friends over. If someone starts typing, Google will automatically fill in the rest for you, like my history that says, "Ways to kill using a wooden spoon."

Finally, just be yourself, some will say everyone else is taken, others say you are the only you you got be yourself because being really real is groovy, honestly it is.

What other great advice would you give as the "cool" aunt?

WTF - Operation Possum Soup

For those new here, we live in a very small town. You can open your front door, yell out a secret and it's on the front page of the town paper the next day.

Yes, word travels fast.

And it travels efficiently.

Our home is considered a vacation paradise, meaning around 350 people live here full time, the rest own vacation homes. Some open only for escaping the heat of summer, while others simply for the local ski resort for winter. Then there's us, we love it all!!

Needless to say, there are vacant homes around us, some for sale, some just sitting there, for years!

One such house is my neighbor, whom I'll call the Vacant/IsItForSale house.

I was on my daily run as I pass the Vacant/IsItForSale house I noticed a smell that brought me to my knees.

My years of watching CSI kicked into gear, am I finally going to be that jogger finding a dead body?

Do I want to find a dead body so close to my house?

Where are my kids? They were fighting when I left.

This smell was not a freshly dead body, so my kids were safe. This smell was the grab you by the collar of your shirt smack you in the face till you cry kind of smell.

The stuff nightmares are made of.  And you know I had to investigate.

First clue, "Wow! Look at that huge cloud of black flies in VacantHouse/IsItForSale's garbage, could it be there?

Possibly.

I walk a little closer, listening to the hum of the flies, putting my hand over my nose, my own sweat smells better than this smell.

I take a little peak over the edge of a trash can.  Oh.

Poor Peter Possum must have looked in this garbage can say maybe 3-4 weeks ago for something tasty and fell in. I remember someone at the house fixing something, did they put the lid on it?

Well the lid is off and there is a nice brown Possum soup in the trash can the flies are feasting on.

I can't take the trash can anywhere, my car is too small and the smell, oh, that smell.

So I do what a good neighbor does, I call the city, disguising my voice so I sound like Pee Wee Herman, "Herro, there is a terrible smelling dead animal in the vacation house at 1030 FoulSmelling Lane. I'm not the neighbor, I'm just a concerned citizen reporting this."

I thought my acting debut was perfect, then wonder how long will it sit there? Didn't I read a story about a memorial in Canada to a dead raccoon the city wouldn't come pick up for 30DAYS? (Hilarious story, if you want to read it click Here) I'm thinking we could have an outdoor service (can't do indoor, the smell) then a dedication to Possum Soup trash can.

To my amazement, my utility dollars are well spent, the city trash truck comes around the bend the next day, a day ahead normal trash pickup stoping at Vacant/IsItForSale house.

I feel bad calling it in, hiding behind the railing of my deck watching three men get out of the truck. Yes, it will take three men to figure out what to do, the smell is that bad.

They get to the trash can and I swear I see one almost go to his knees (like me) while the other two step away from the black cloud of flies having a party, their hands on their noses (maybe they didn't believe PeeWee Herman, I mean me when I called it in)

I'm sure they are having a serious discussion on who gets the pleasure of touching the trash can, until it looks like one of them seems to say "F*ck it" grabbing the trash can and throwing it in the garbage truck.  Bye Bye Peter. I hear the truck churn and churn for a good ten minutes, hoping that maybe they picked up a bunch of laundry sheets helping Peter get his proper burial.

They pull the can back out and toss it in the trash bid. I'm sure all the flies are buzzing around going, "What? What happened? Where's the buffet?"

Thank you, Thank you my heroes, the utility workers, you braved something I couldn't handle and came out with your heads held high and no possum juice on your hands!

By the way, I'll be stopping by with pizza tomorrow as a thank you because you see, I run that road almost every single day.

OK, back to looking for my dead body.