Motherhood Uncensored

5:30am

Oh yeah. You're hot, baby.

Just hold on a second. Let me lift my large perky even breasts out of my huge bra so you can stuff your face in them.

Angelina? Please. She's nothing compared to...

Tap. Tap tap tap. Tap. TAP.

The Huz: I just wanted to wake you up from a dead sleep to tell you that Drew might be hungry when he wakes up.

So he's not up yet?

The Huz: No.

Have you lost your fucking mind?

My Sentiments Exactly

"Grandma, NO MORE TALKING!"

Fun & Games

I have momentarily escaped what has been a day of "13,000 Questions about Kristen's House That She Doesn't Know the Answer To." I find this game particularly fun when I'm just happy to have the energy to clean it enough so I can walk without getting rice puffs stuck between my toes and I don't wake up with toast crumbs stuck in my asscrack.

In my world, this house just landed in "My Town, GA" and we bought it.

That's it.

I do not know the height of my ceiling. Or the square footage in my dining room. Or how hard my new end tables are to dust and how my kitchen cabinets are going to be a bitch to clean.

They hold my shit better than a trash bag. Isn't that enough?

I was sort of hoping she'd focus on my ass. But it's shrunk. And so apparently the house is way more interesting.

*hrumph*

But look people. In my world, fun involves alcohol, sleep, and absolutely no mathematical equations unless those equations are helping me figure out how much I can drink or how much I can sleep. 

However, I know you're all dying to know how to play, so let me give you a sampling of how it goes (in case you're tired of your "Back Massager" and need some other form of pleasure).

Question 11,203:

MIL: So, what color are your shutters?

Kristen: Um. Burgundy. I'm really not quite sure.

MIL: I think they are Cordovan. Yep. That's it. Cordovan.

Question 13,789:

MIL: How high are your ceilings? 9 or 10 feet.

Kristen: *Stands up and reaches up* 9 feet

MIL: Hmmm. They look more like 10 to me.

So, today I've learned that I know nothing about my house or how to pick end tables.

Based on previous scores, I'm doing pretty damn well.

However, it is just barely the end of Day One.

Phew! I Was Worried That I Wasn't Going to Win Any Mothering Awards This Year

But then I gave my daughter two Zicams for her cold which I thought was totally unrelated to her chills and the overall "blahs" which could be none other than the "oh shit not at Christmas so help me God" flu.

When really, it was just the Zicams.

Sometimes I think my parenting brilliance is unmatched.

Santa Got Runover By a Southerner Driving a Pick-Up While Talking on His Cellphone

It has become very clear to me that people should not drive while talking on their cell phones. Except me, of course. And moms of the same persuasion. Because moms can process two screaming kids, driving a car, and shoving some sort of weird flattened sandwich and carrot sticks in their mouth all while chatting with a friend about their day.

Okay, so maybe that's not the safest thing to do. But at least I realize it, unlike at least four drivers we passed today who were driving in the left lane at least 10 miles under the speed limit all yapping away on their phones.

Are people not familiar with "hands-free?" Maybe they think a blue tooth is sign that you have some kind of disease down here.

"Wut. You got a balew tooth? Aw shiyit man. That's bayad."

Honestly, I have no problem with people talking to their 6,000 friends on their cell phones in their cars. And I love a good opportunity to use my horn. Plus, I get that people move a little slower down here. There's no reason to rush, right? Enjoy your deep conversation on a busy 12 lane highway in heavy traffic.

But just do us all a favor and do it in the RIGHT FUCKING LANE.