August 17 09

Life is filled with bumps. Lots and lots of bumps.

Like when you have been in Atlanta for almost 3 weeks and you just cannot get your internet connection to work properly…no matter how many hours your husband  – who possesses a degree in computer science – spent trying to fix it.


Like when you go to dunkin’ donuts and place your order at the drive-thru, but when you pull up to the window, they ask you to repeat your order from start to finish because there’s ZERO communication between the person taking the orders and the person filling them. (they need some lessons in efficiency) (and I need some lessons in patience)(they also need to stop taking personal cell phone calls while they are working) (official dunkin’ donuts boycott is in effect)


Like when you get kicked out of Victoria’s Secret because your kids are playing the penis game.


Like when you find the cremains of your Grandpa Lou in the drawer beside your bed.


Like no matter how much time I take to dry and iron my hair it still grows like a bloody chia pet with the first step out the door.


Like when you wake your kids super early to get them up and ready to go to school on your first day as a single mom and you shower your son who played baseball yesterday (and won his first game!) and feed your three picky breakfast eaters at least 3 different breakfasts and race out of the house to get to school on time only to have someone stop you on your way in to tell you that SCHOOL IS CANCELED. A mothereffing sewage problem.

Bumpity bump bump.

So, there’s no rest for the weary. Or, Dr. Jones, there’s no time for love work. Or better yet, there’s no chance for any sort of down time after a busy weekend of squishing my three nieces who came up (down?) from Nashville for Miss Isabella’s 4th birthday that involved pizza and cake (yes, I DID let myself break my no bread no pasta no dessert rule for a piece of cake because, hello! My baby turned 4! And also? COSTCO CAKE) and many (too many) hours at Chuck E. Cheese’s, dressed in princess dresses, obviously.


After all, it’s where a kid can be a kid. And a mom can, well, pop some xanax and encourage her children to stop dropping their coins in the “ooh, let’s win the most tickets!” games that will win them nothing but laffy taffys and plastic fake vomit (seriously, does anyone buy that shit?) and plastic bracelets that will break after 47 seconds in the car on the way home and actually enjoy themselves with some skee-ball or pinball or Super Mario Kart or Deal or No Deal.

So, there’s no chance of spending the morning with Rachel and the youngins at the children’s museum because Josh and Emily are too old for it (and you know what that means “I’m SOOOOOOOOOO bored. I want to go home. I hate it here. This is for babies” all the livelong day)

So now I have to go and watch two little girls perform an encore to their lovely Christmas fashion show.

(that’s called a silver lining, by the way) (until they are finished and then it’s called laundry)

and go do some more squishing.


  1. My hair does that, too. I don’t even try anymore.

    Comment by C @ Kid Things on August 17, 2009
  2. Your post makes Timmy’s sound efficient (and I’ve always found them disorganized).

    Comment by SciFi Dad on August 17, 2009
  3. I wish I had been the genius who invented those fake hillbilly teeth because (1) those and fake vampire teeth are all my kids ever come home with after a trip to Chuck E. Cheese and (2) I’d never have to go to Chuck E. Cheese again because I’d have a house full of fake hillbilly teeth, so I could just toss a couple pairs of those and three Tootsie Roll Midgies at the boys and call it a day when they were begging to go.

    Seriously, the inventor of those things? Genius.
    .-= fadkog´s last blog ..…and school comes along just to end it =-.

    Comment by fadkog on August 17, 2009
  4. FOUR??
    How did that happen? When did that happen?
    .-= Christine´s last blog ..Processing =-.

    Comment by Christine on August 17, 2009
  5. Hang in there, sweet friend.

    Miss you.

    Comment by Angella on August 17, 2009
  6. But squishing makes all the bumps better… right??

    Comment by Miss Britt on August 17, 2009
  7. OY SQUISH!!! Worth all the bumps! ((HUGS))

    Comment by Haley-O on August 17, 2009
  8. I feel like I missed something. . .how are you a single mom now? I thought you were going to be a stay-home (work from home?) mom while in Atlanta, not a single mom. ?
    .-= kara´s last blog ..Bounce =-.

    Comment by kara on August 17, 2009
  9. Oh man, do I hate Chuck E. Cheese. I really like kids, but put me in there for a birthday party and I get RAGEY. They do serve beer, though.

    Also, the Atlanta Dunkin Donuts are giving the franchise a BAD name because here in Chicago, they are super efficient. The one by my old job KNEW my order and it was ready about 10 seconds after I walked in the door.

    Happy birthday Miss Isabella!

    Comment by Kristabella on August 18, 2009
  10. YOU CAN DO IT! Maybe need to borrow Bella’s crown?

    Comment by Kaleigha on August 18, 2009
  11. Hang in there, it’s gonna be a bumpy ride!!

    I don’t know if I could go through with the Dunkin Donuts boycott.
    .-= Suzy Voices´s last blog ..Dress For The Job You Want =-.

    Comment by Suzy Voices on August 18, 2009
  12. i’m gettin mad myself about that school thing!!

    Comment by Wendy on August 18, 2009
  13. Chuck E. Cheese is what I envision hell to be like.

    ALso, I’m pretty sure all the people who work at my Dunkin’ Dounts are perpetually high or terminally stupid. Or both. It might be a systemic issue. 😉

    Comment by metalia on August 19, 2009
  14. You need a spa day. Massage all the bumps away.

    Or crack. Crack might help.

    Comment by Avitable on August 19, 2009
  15. I have ALWAYS hated Chuck E. Cheese, and my kids are grown now! Don’t worry, things will calm down soon and you’ll get into a routine.

    Comment by pat on August 27, 2009

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