Literary Junk Food

I have literally done nothing this week and it's safe to say that at this current moment I'm wobbling drunkenly on the border of shear laziness and clinical depression. I think it's because I'm realizing more and more that my time management sucks and keeping up this blog will be a big challenge once I start working next week.

As excited as I am to go back to work, I have to admit that I really wish I could have made this blog my career. Especially after I took the time to read some books that -were no doubt- successful versions of what I do here each week. In my almost year as a blogger, I have found that my writing is the literary equivalent to junk food. It's good and sometimes down right delicious (if I do say so myself), but really it has no substance. Much like a super sized bag of M&M's- my work will make you ill if not taken in with moderation. I think it's even possible that reading my blogs will give you a fat ass. Don't quote me on that, but when you're done reading this it might be wise for you to run a lap- chances are you could use the cardio anyway.



The point I'm so long-windedly making is that this literary junk food sells when you're already famous. Look at Chelsea Handler. She just released "Chelsea Chelsea Bang Bang" and it was a hit. There was nothing special about it. It was funny and filled with stories about her obnoxious father, ridiculous friends and -my favorite- her finding a love for masturbation at the age of eight. But as always when I was finished reading, I sat slack jawed and thought, "Are you kidding me?" This is the crap that gets people on the New York Times best seller list. I have all of these ingredients and then some. Not that I'm trying to one up Chelsea but, my father is absolutely out of his mind- you know he is- you read his contribution. My friends- well I don't have many of those, but my stories about my crabby grandmother and my 28 year-old man child (AKA my husband) fill that space perfectly. And as for childhood masturbation...Please! I'm the only person on this earth that thinks she had a good childhood and trust me it's not my nut job parents I'm thanking for that- it's the man in the boat. So, I guess what I'm trying to say is that you're welcome readers for all the freebie's and thanks for nothing mom and dad. Why couldn't you have been stage parents? If you would have just pushed me really hard at something- all in a effort to live vicariously through my achievements- I could have been famous. Possibly even writing books for money. Instead, I'm a blogger. Monkeys scratching their balls while sitting on a tire swing at the zoo get more hits in a day than my website ever will in a year. Hope you're proud.

**Just wanted everyone to know that the only thing that is keeping me from shutting this blog down right now, is the fact that to a few people out there, I am that ball scratching monkey. One that misspells every third word and uses obscenities like chocolate chips in her junk food stories. For those two people, bon apatite!

Times They Are A Changin...

When I'm not out changing the world one ridiculously long winded blog at a time, I spend my time cooped up in the house tending to my young son. I am also currently in the process of trying to build a website to promote my brand and while I do this, I obsessively think up new and stressful ways to spend my time. Recently, I thought to myself "How can I make my life more difficult and financially sound?" My response was an instantly overwhelming, "Go back to work!"

Lucky for me, I have some close friends still lingering in my old line of work and it was easy to find a door to stick my foot into. In an effort to not drag out the boring parts, I'll make a long story short and tell you that after a quick interview and a few handshakes, I landed a gig with a great company in the field of health care. Now I'm left to start a new chapter of my life as a working mom and while I'm beyond stoked to start this new venture, it does have me questioning some things about life and balance. Like how am I going to survive the guilt I feel for dumping my kid at daycare all day and how am I going to balance writing, working and being a mom..

A few weeks ago I hopped up on my soap box and gave a speech about following your dreams and taking risks. Looking back now, I can see that it was one of the biggest turds I have ever dropped on this website and I would like to apologize now for the hypocrisy that is about to ensue. It all started when I decided to take this new job. I have always been satisfied with the direction my life has taken. Well not really satisfied... I look at my place in life the same way as I do cleaning- if the mess is easily hidden when company is around, it's good enough.. But to settle and make do with the cards I've been dealt has never been hard for me, especially recently when I started writing. It wasn't until this opportunity fell in my lap that I realized - much like 99% of the world- I would sacrifice my dreams and aspirations for a pay check and a 401K plan. It is true, like the rest of you I am a slut like that. So, here are the meat and potatoes-my new soap box rant- if you will.

The truth...

-In life we have to sacrifice. And the reality is that one sacrifice leads to another. Then before we know it the only thing we've really given up on is our happiness and the things we love the most.

-There is no way you will ever be able to give 100% of yourself to 100% of the things you want, need and love. However, you will try to anyway. The only things in your life that you will ever be able to give 100% to are the time you are stretched too thin, overwhelmed and outnumbered. You may not feel this way right now, but know it's only because you're use to it.

-Money cannot buy you happiness, but it can keep the lights on, put your kid in a great school, and buy you things to fill the void that was left behind when you settled for the job you have now instead of the one you really wanted.

-Everyone has a price. You may think that you would never trade what's most important to you for money, but know this- given enough zeros behind a dollar amount- priorities change. You too would sell your passion to be Oprah rich. Quit kidding yourself.

-When people say "I'm self motivated" what they are really saying is- I have a car I can barely afford and I'm one lost paycheck away from losing my house. The truth is that nothing drives a person like the idea of losing everything to the repo man. But there's really no acceptable term for that kind of motivation, is there?

-You should have finished college and if you did finish, you should have picked a better major... Getting a bachelors degree in psychology is like having degree in burgers 101 and working for Chik-Fil-A. That type of degree is practically useless and will never set you apart from someone who specialized in the career you wish you had. As for the many like myself who didn't finish college- congratulations! You have just insured that you will always feel inadequate and underpaid. You really should have finished that psychology degree.

- Unless you're making millions with that side project you're doing, it will always be a hobby. No one respects a blog writer, knitter, stain glass maker or bedazzler. In life the work that makes you happy will almost never make you rich. It is a fact. You can Google it.

That said, I am going to try hard to keep MouthyMommy.com running efficiently. Though I can't promise I'll post every week, I can promise I will do everything in my power to do the right thing by my readers and bring the funny as often as physically possible. However, I want you all to realize that by selling out and going to work for "The Man," I have given up a part of me that I promised I would never- full disclosure. In order to keep and maintain this job, I will have to try hard to never write about my company. Also, because of HIPAA laws, my patient stories will need to be kept at a minimum. That is unless they fire me...Then it's game on, Bitches!

Happy Mothers Day- The A+ Parenting Way!

With Mother's Day around the corner I thought it would be nice to pay tribute to those with the dirtiest job around- Life maker...

Motherhood isn't easy. There are a lot of ups and downs and for 99% it's not exactly the career move we always dreamed of. Think about this- how many stay at home moms did you see on career day? The answer is none and that's because from day one we are told how empowering it is for a women to get out into the work force and make their own money. We're taught that a title will open new doors and that working moms are hero's. But what about the moms that forfeit the success and fortune to get down in the trenches with their child? What about the ladies who spend everyday- 24/7- caring for our future presidents, garbage men and executives? For that 1% who are willing to take a step back and live like it was 1952- I would like to say: THANK YOU!

When I was 8 I decided that above anything else, I wanted to be a mother. I got this spark by watching my mom. She was nurturing, loving and absolutely frightening, but more than anything proud to be a stay at home mommy. It was from her that I learned the ropes and kindly, she never sugar coated anything. She practiced what I like to call "A+ Parenting." It's a form of mothering that is imperfect and honest. It at times can seem neglectful or even mean, but it allows for mistakes and individuality and above all celebrates the fact that even as moms, we are only human. I would like to share with you some "A+ Parenting" secrets. Though I can hardly be considered an expert- after all, I only have one kid and I pawn him off every chance I get- I have taken the liberty of compiling my own mothers' life work in the field and find that it's not only useful, but accurate. Happy Mother's day to all! This is a gift from me-to you.


The Guide to A+ Parenting
-By Jennie Nadler Milechman
With contributions from the always dysfunctional- Nadler family Women.


*Colic
There is no cure for a colicky infant and only A+ parents will tell you the truth about that. No matter what family members, old ladies at the grocery store or friends may say your baby sucks at this point in his new life and there is nothing you can do to fix him/her. The best thing- and probably the only thing- you can do to make life bearable is self medicate. I find that the right combination of booze, cigarettes and anti-depressants numbs the pain -of your new and ungodly situation- enough to get you by. I also recommend that you allow the little monster personal space to cry it out in. His personal space could be a swing, crib or relative’s home, but never a dryer, microwave or dishwasher. Postpartum tells us that the latter is a good idea, but trust me, in the end you'll be thankful you opted out of a life sentence in a rape-me-with-a-plunger type prison,though I am aware that a daily raping would seem like a spa day compared to what you’re dealing with right now.

*Oopsies
At some point you may accidentally drop or maim your new baby. It's not uncommon that a tiny head cradled in your arms may accidentally find its way into a door frame. Nor is it rare that baby may somehow make its way to the floor with the grace of a lead balloon. There is really no solution for this, so it's best not to dwell on your carelessness. An A+ parent always keeps these types of incidents quiet. Unless there is an injury that requires immediate medical attention, what's the point of sharing your misadventures with anyone? It's ok to be shitty at parenting when you first start out; it however is not cool to have others confirm it. Always remember that the key to being an A+ parent is much like belonging to a secret fight club... The first rule is to never talk about it.

*Sterilizing
Germs are everywhere and there is absolutely no way you'll ever keep Junior away from all of them. When you first bring home your monster you'll be consumed with cleaning and washing and hand sanitizing and boiling- but know this, in a few months those things will become like taking the long way home, on foot through the snow and over Mt. Kilimanjaro. An A+ parent learns quickly that removing dog hair with your fingers from objects that are to be used orally, never killed anyone. You can clean a binky with your jeans and sometimes the 5 second rule can be extended to the 30 second rule or even the 3 minute rule depending on what end of an object or food product hit the ground first.

* Return Policy
Guess what there is no return policy. You're stuck for life with this little one. Let that sink in for a moment... A+ parents often have moments of "buyers" remorse in the first year. Hell, even good parents feel this way…Don’t feel guilty. You are only human and being overwhelmed is natural. Think about this- we are one of the only animal species that find it unacceptable to abandon or eat our young. The fact that you will eventually push through these feelings is a miracle. You really deserve a pat on the back…


*Stop apologizing
So what -your house is a mess, you’re a little overweight and your kid- at times- is a complete dick. This is a problem for every mom, the stay at home and working class hero varieties alike. For the longest time after becoming a mom, I started every sentence with “sorry”. “Sorry the living room’s a mess,” “Sorry for the tantrum,” “Sorry for the screaming.” Then I realized (with the help of my mother) that there are certain things you can’t control. Your kid’s going to cry during a nice dinner, some days you won’t get to the laundry and though genetically that little nightmare is half you- you can’t control what his underdeveloped mind instinctively tells him/her to do. A+ parents make no excuse and never give out false apologies. They live their life with the knowledge that some things are what they are and accept that “crazy”is part of the job description.

*Spanking
Dr. Phil warns that spanking is ineffective. You know what A+ parents say?.."Fuck Dr. Phil!" Now while a full on UFC match with your kiddo is a terrible idea, a whack on the tushy and a tap on the hand never killed or emotionally scarred anyone. I can guarantee that one day when your child is draped across a therapists' couch- and he will be, all A+ parented children are- the tap on the hand you gave him for trying to plug keys into a light socket will never enter the conversation. Children are fearless and suicidal creatures who need consequences that shock and sometimes sting to keep them out of harm's way. People today don't always understand this method of thinking because this new age-negotiate-with-a-toddler-who-has-no-concept-of right-and-wrong bullshit is all the rage and that's fine. A+ parents care less about the trends and more about what's best for their children. They also tend to hate Dr Phil....

*Giving in
Caving into the demands of a three foot tall poop factory can make you feel like an ass, but the serenity you receive once the tantrums cease is downright euphoric. A+ parents realize that a $2 toy or a pacifier in a three year old mouth can sometimes be a necessity that negates the consequences you'll have to deal with later. I have tried on many occasions to take my sons pacifier away and after a few hours of unmerciful screaming I always cave and return it to him. Why? Because as an A+ parent I have come to realize that sanity is priceless and braces are about 3 grand. It's worth the money later to keep from going postal today. I use this method of reasoning anytime I am bullied into purchasing toys at Target or terrorized into that second, third or fourth pack of fruit snacks.

*Potty Training
This is the nightmare of all nightmares for parents. We all ask ourselves when the right time to start is. We all get pressured by family members and pediatricians to get it over with. We all realize that until the poopy monster is ready there is absolutely nothing we can do to make them function on a potty the way they rightfully should. Now while this training can be stressful, it seems to be less so for the A+ parent. Why? Because as an A+ parent, you are smart enough to realize that your munchkin will not be walking down the aisle someday, one hand on his bride and the other holding up his Huggies. You're also sadistic enough to know that if he does- it will then be his wife's problem.

*Smarts
A+ parents realize that kids change and learn at their own rate. We give them credit for their personal victories and swell with pride at the sight of their advancements. However, we accept that- besides the love we feel for them- they are pretty much like everyone Else's kid. We understand how boring and obnoxious it is to constantly hear how "smart" the other little "Timmys" are and refuse to play the my-kid-is-better-than-yours game. Of course you think your kid is special and smart, we all feel that way about or own. People who ostentatiously talk about their children are much like men with small dicks that drive shiny red sports cars- it's simply a way of making up for your own short comings by distraction. The kid and the car are just glorified penis enlargers and no A+ parent gives a shit about how much bigger yours may (or may not) be!

*A+ Failures
Nothing in life is ever perfect and those that claim they have perfect lives, kids, jobs,families etc are full of crap! As an A+ parent we laugh at life's challenges and the mistakes we make along the way. We find comfort in sharing our stories of misadventure with our own kind (other A+ moms and dads) and realize that every day is another chance to try again and succeed or fail. (A+)er's never dwell on past mistakes, but find a way to turn the crummiest of times into the funniest of memories. Always remember this: if your kid is alive and well at the end of the day, there's no way you can be a failure. Screw ups happen every day and it is what creates character.It's best not to beat yourself up over it.

*Knowledge
Remember all the stupid shit your parents did with, to and for you? Now is your chance to pay it forward...A+ parents have forgiven their parents for being idiots when it came to bringing up children because they too have become idiots by having their own. (A+)er's use the term "you didn't come with a manual" frequently when talking to their kids and have gained appreciation for the widespread coverage of therapy on most insurance plans. We sometimes think a therapy fund maybe more lucrative for our little monsters than a college fund. I personally recommend starting both; worst ( or best, readers choice) case- your kid wont use one or both of them and then it's "Hello Hawaii!"


***Have something to add to the A+ Parenting Guide? Just add it in the comment section below...And to all my moms out there, Have a happy and healthy Mothers Day. XOXOX

Time Outs For Big People...

Children are the biggest responsibility you'll ever incur. Some of us are blessed by choice and others by circumstance. Whatever the case, take a minute to think about all the ways your sweet responsibility weighs you down and ask yourself "is it really so wrong that animals eat their young?"

I came into this life of motherhood with high hopes. After all I've managed to keep a dog alive for years without problems how difficult could it be to do the same with a child? Apparently the margin is bigger than I bargained for. Since my son was born- life and my little bundle- have continuously thrown curve balls my way and all of them have landed harshly in my suck hole. So what do I do when life as a mother gets me down? Well, of course there is the obvious-booze /antidepressant combo but, I have recently found new things to help get me through my periods of funk without destroying my liver. I would like to share some of my stress relieving activities with you. They are designed specifically for parents but, some of them are easily adjusted for those who were smart enough to use protection...

* The Runaway Game
Some times being a mom and wife sucks so badly that I fantasize about running away. Maybe you've thought of this too at times. I have managed to find a way to turn these intoxicating thoughts into a meditative and time killing opportunity. Here's what you do:
Find a place to sit and blank out for a moment. It can be anywhere and at anytime during your day. Now imagine dropping your kid off with someone you trust, grabbing your necessities and hitting the road. I usually start by loading my things in the car and stopping off to purchase a new cell phone. I don't need my old responsibilities tracking me down on my way to freedom. I then imaginatively hit the road and pick a place that no one would think to look for me. What will my name be in this new no-strings-attached-life? Where will I live? What kind of job will I get? Will I find myself a new man? What does he look like? Is he rich? How will I decorate my new home? Do I become famous in this new life? What do I do to change my looks? Can I afford new boobs? Should I have an accent of some sort? This game can take minutes or hours but it's a fun escape and may help send you to dreamland on a sleepless night. The possibilities are as broad as you imagination.

* Telemarketing Multi Purposing
It is never cool to pick a fight with a stranger face to face when you want to blow off steam. Why run the risk of getting your ass kicked when all you really want to do is unload and move on. I've come up with a solution and it's as easy as talking to those jagaloons that call your house everyday at dinner time. This game is perfect when you've had a long frustrating day caused by Junior or anyone else who's mucking up your life. When the phone rings and you hear the telemarketer on the other line, answer with an obscenity like, "what the fuck!". I like to start by questioning their career choices immediately after but, feel free to start whatever way you’re comfortable. Sometimes you get lucky and find someone who will play the verbal abuse with you like a game of ping pong. If this is the case make sure you get the last word. It would be ridiculous to lose at your own game.

If arguing with an unsuspecting stranger is not your style and you just want an ear to bend, telemarketers are great for that too. Feel free to project your issues with your father onto "Doug" the home alarm specialist, because let's face it, your need to feel safe and protected all stems from your parents divorcing in the third grade. Or maybe Doug has some ideas about potty training or dealing with nosey in-laws. Let him know how overwhelmed you are and do so passionately. Whatever avenue you chose to explore make sure you commit. Your goal is to keep them on the line until you have blown off the necessary amount of steam to continue about your day. And remember, never feel sorry for Doug or the thousands of marketers like him. If it was up to him, he'd knock you down and rifle through your pockets for spare change...

*The Lottery Game
This game is very similar to the runaway game in the sense that you're only limited by your imagination. If you're having a really rough day and have extra time you may even want to pair the two. Here are some things to get you started. What's the jackpot up to this week? Now imagine if you had all the winning numbers. What would you spend it on? How much would you give to greedy family and friends? Who would you tell first about your good fortune? This game is best if you're specific so take some time to really break it down. Just remember to allocate money for taxes. With the IRS not even your fantasies are safe from audit...

* Go Fuck Yourself
Literally...Nothing relieves stress like rubbing one out and that doesn't change when you become a parent. Just make sure that this activity is a private one. Your kids are already going to need therapy with you as their parent, its best not to send them into coo coo town early with your indecency.

* Facebook Stalking
Whether you're having a bad day or simply bored, becoming a Facebook stalker is a magnificent way to kill time. Check up on old flames, classmates and friends with just a click of the mouse. The best part of it all is that it's completely anonymous and the chances of you get caught rifling through this cyber "nightstand drawer" is really unlikely. Trust me, when you find out your old boyfriend has married a fatty and your old high school prom queen is currently undergoing rehab for huffing, you'll be thanking your lucky stars for that booger machine your stuck chasing after day after day.

* Teach Your Kid Something
Ever get tired of playground moms trying to outdo you and your child? How many times do you have to hear what a genius little "Timmy" is before you decided to make his brand of smart seem trivial by teaching your own kid a new trick. Whenever I'm feeling down after a play date I teach my child something way out of his league. For example when he was two and some of his super "smart" buddies started learning sign language- I taught my son how to read a handful of words, nothing crazy- just simple stuff like cat, dog, and elephant. Then the next time those pesky mommies tried to make my kid look stupid by asking baby coco the mini gorilla to sign - I was able to one up them by showing off my own mini-pants-pooping Einstein.

* Broomstick
This is my holy grail of decompression after a long and irritating day. And though most of you are thinking I jump on it and take a joy ride, you could not be more wrong (this time anyway). Broomstick is a game I play when I am so far over the edge that a mental disconnect will no longer cut it. All you need for this stress reliever is to grab a broom and head out back. Then with every ounce of rage you can muster, start beating the sweet bejesus out of a tree, fence or swing set. I like to keep the beating going until the broom breaks in two and falls to my feet with a defeated thud but, like all the other things I mentioned today- make it yours. I also encourage you to scream or imagine someone while you’re beating your way to Zen.

There is one important rule to always remember while engaging in Broomstick relief, ALWAYS use a broom with a wooden or plastic handle. Metal broomsticks will have you more shaken than when you started and you’re already a mental case, there’s no need to be suicidal.



** Have a funny or ridiculous way to relieve stress and frustration? Share it with the Mouthy Mommy in the comment section.

Defeated..? Not Today.

“But there is suffering in life, and there are defeats. No one can avoid them. But it's better to lose some of the battles in the struggles for your dreams than to be defeated without ever knowing what you're fighting for.” -Paulo Coelho

Every week I'm here, pouring my blood, sweat, and tears on to this page. My need to write has become like breathing- a necessity. Everywhere I look I see a story and my compulsion to write it down and share it with you has become an addiction that I'm unable to control. My mind is constantly running- narrating my world as though a novel may one day spring from my head, double spaced and bound. But there is always that little voice inside me screaming that I don't have what it takes and that this is all for nothing. I struggle with it every time I sit down to write.

There are not too many things in life that I can say I'm good at. I have failed miserably as a housewife, I've been fired from more jobs than I can keep track of and when it comes to being a mother, daughter, wife, sister and friend I sometimes fall short. Yet it seems that here- in the world of black and white text- I excel. Maybe it's because it gives me a shield to hide behind. It's a way to physically become invisible while still allowing my thoughts to run free. I love how the Mouthy Mommy alter ego lets me play by my own rules and empty my life-it's disappointments, struggles and joys- here where it can be dusted off and put to use in some small way, even if that way is just a small chuckle from someone at their desk when the work day has dragged on too long. Everyone should be so lucky to have this chance.

Recently the validity of what I'm doing here has been called into question by someone very close to me. If I was just a silly blog writer dumping my daily grind, I wouldn't think twice about someone doubting whether or not this was a career defining hobby. The problem is- that for me- this has become my world and I don't need a fat pay check or a book deal to know that it's worth doing. Some people around me seem to think that this is the way that success is measured and have questioned the time it is taking to attain it. I think that things that come easily are short lived and go unappreciated. Stick figures do not hang in museums of art, yet Da Vinci spent more than four years painting Mona Lisa's smile alone and it is priceless. I'm not comparing myself to this legendary painter, I'm just saying that good things-things that are worth remembering- take time to build and sometimes they may only pay off long after we are gone. For those who cannot understand how I stay driven without instant reward, I have to say that I'm sorry that you have never had the opportunity to love something unconditionally.

I realize that sometimes we fight battles we know we can't win and have dreams that are unattainable and out of our league. Sometimes we lose at things we should have won- easy stuff, like walking without tripping over our own feet. Though we may be defeated at anything, we must always try- knowing that there may be an off chance, that one day our luck may change. I can't say that what I write is Pulitzer Prize worthy or that I'll ever make any money doing it. I am aware that most of this stuff is just a meaningless view of my own meandering experiences. But what if..?

I'm not expecting to be a super star. I just want the opportunity to make something of myself. Something I'm proud of. I think everyone can relate to that on some level. Who wouldn't want the chance to shine at something they are good at? And who's to say there isn't a chance that we may be lucky enough to win the battle with ourselves and those that doubt us? Real failure would be to never try at all. So, support or discouragement-fame or failure- with or without you- I will continue. And now you know...

Thanks for letting me vent! I'll bring the funny next week...I promise :)

This Is Why Nobody Likes Me.. :(

While most people enjoy my over- the- top sense of humor, the one person who doesn’t seem to get me is my husband. This at times presents a problem considering he is one of my favorite muses. For the record my husband is not a super funny guy. He’s very private, peaceful, and charming, but not at all a crack up. There are moments when he feels the need to be hilarious and when he does I can always count on him to find a way to bust out this gem; “Once you go Jew, you’re stuck like glue.” I cannot begin to express how much I’ve come to hate his go to line. It’s not funny and I absolutely loathe it. It irks me so much that now every time I hear it, I have a visceral response. I equate it to what someone from PETA would feel if they saw a deer hunter step on a small bag of kittens while eating a bacon cheese burger. Yes, it bothers me that much… But that’s who he is, and when I decided to marry him, I made the conscious decision take him as is-missing funny bone and all.

This brings me to the issue at hand. I live my life searching for the funny in everything. To me nothing is off limits and there is no room for sensitivity. When my mother died and people were feeling sorry for me, I jumped on the opportunity to cash in. I would bate innocent victims into rounds of “Yo momma” just so I could stun them with a response of “My mother’s dead!” I don’t fight fair, I’m a terrible liar-so it’s not even worth the effort for me to try, and there is nothing about my life that I can’t look at from another angle to exploit for a laugh. My husband hates these things about me and since our very first fight he has always insisted that “This is why nobody likes” me.

The longer we’re together the more I find out what “This” entails. Last week it was a small inaccuracy in a blog that set him off. When I explained that sometimes I cut and paste the good parts to make him seem funnier, he didn’t have much to say, but when the conversation had reach its end and all was close to well, I through in a “You’re welcome.” It was obvious that my sarcastic attack on his sense of humor pushed him back over the edge and he stormed out of the room like a 7 year old girl, barking out that “This is exactly why nobody likes” me.

To pay homage to my husband and the many others who according to him “dislike me” I thought I would write down some of the things or the “this”- if you will- that got me on this shit list my husband totes around. (Note: These are all reasons my husband has compiled. I really doubt he did an actual pole… Though I could be wrong, he does seem very sure of himself on this matter.)

Feel free to end each sentence with “This is why nobody likes you.” That’s what my husband does.

• I named my sons new fish “murder face.” I did this because every time I see his face, I want to flush my new responsibility down the toilet..

• I don’t see an issue with not flushing the toilet in the middle of the night

• “Fuck” is my favorite word. I use it as if my life depends on it

• I drink from the carton while standing inside the open refrigerator

• I read the twilight saga over and over and while doing so, I ignore everyone around me

• After I married my husband I gave all of his furniture away to Goodwill and replaced it with my stuff or bought new. I did most of this without asking permission.

• I incessantly Facebook and Twitter from my phone. I status up dated during Passover dinner, at a funeral and once during an argument with my husband about Facebook and Twittering.

• I wear my maternity underwear from three years ago around the house. I do this while the blinds are open and most of the time I'm topless. (sorry neighbors!)

• I once made a comment to my in-laws friends about the “$3 shit wine” my father-in-law served them. It turns out the friends brought the wine. They told me so.

• I don’t hide disappointment well. When I get a bad gift I make “a face” that gives me away instantly. My husband has seen this face more than most people.

• When Perpetual Bridesmaid comes to visit for the weekend I make my husband sleep on the couch so that she and I can share the king sized bed.

• I blog about all my family members. I use family gatherings as a way to stock up on material. No one is safe. Instead of a hug good bye, people ask me not to write about them. My husband thinks I should honor their request. I disagree.

• When I think something is super ugly, I compliment the people that own it because I just have to say something. This goes for jewelry, home furnishings, haircuts and babies. I then spend twenty minutes describing my disgust to my husband once we are out of hearing range.

• I'm a bitch...And I'm ok with that.

• When I’m told that this is why nobody likes me, I smile.. Why? Because I know that this is exactly why everybody reads me…:)

So there you have it, folks. This is why nobody likes me. Can you think of some reasons nobody likes you? If you need help I'm sure my husband could give you a hand..Feel free to submit what makes you dislikable or something my husband missed on his list for me... The comment section is waiting.....

I Would Like To File A Complaint!

Since life has decided to bend me over and make me it bitch for the last few days, I have decided to write a formal complaint. The problem here is that life- unlike some of the other assholes I've had the displeasure of working with- lacks a customer service department to send my complaint to. This has now left me with one option- to go fuck myself...With that in mind, I have decided to air my grievances here and hope that someone out there can relate to my pain, laugh at it or supply me with a working firearm.

To Life or whomever it may concern,

There have been some issues in the last few weeks that have begun to concern me. It seems as though you no longer value our relationship and have chosen to produce steaming piles of garbage, instead of the rainbows and sunshine I was once promised. I would like to take a moment to bring some of these piles to your attention. While you look over this list of grievances please take the time to account for all the ways you have failed me. I realize that I too have had a part in some of this however; I can't help but feel like this is partially, if not entirely all your fault.

March 20-
I receive a phone call that an old friend has passed away. Said Friend has died in a similar fashion to my mother and now I am forced to relive the experience again. I end up driving to a funeral hours away and endure 3 long hours with my ex-boyfriend and his goody-two-shoes wife. There is a small upside when I realize that I am not only thinner than she is, but have better judgment when it comes to picking a life partner. That fuzzy feeling is quickly squashed when I excuse myself to use the restroom and urinate on the back of my pants while trying to hover over the Applebees toilet at our post funeral dinner party.

March 23-
Trying to be a good mom I allowed my child to help me cook his dinner. After 3 minutes he picked a fight with me over the proper way to flip a grilled cheese. When I refused to follow his direction, he took to beating me with a butter covered spatula. When I threatened to remove the spatula from his tiny hands and throw it in the garbage, he offered to give me a punch in the face. I then found myself completely disgusted with him and my parenting skills. Was there a reason I chose to procreate instead of buy a cute little puppy?

March 24-
I go to Walmart and receive parenting advice from three strangers that look like they may be straight off the "most wanted" list. I also deal with 2 monstrous temper tantrums from my three year old-that I eventually give in to, sparking yet another round of parenting advice from 1 more toothless stranger. After a final fit at the checkout, I start to contemplate whether or not my husband would be upset if I left our obnoxious kid at a fire station drop off. I feel guilty for my moment of weakness and leave the Walmart compound. To ease my frustration I take a few minutes to bang my head- until I feel a black out approaching- against the steering wheel of my car before driving home.

March 25-
I send my ill husband to the doctor (by himself). He returns with a filled prescription and states that he was over charged for his visit. I asked him if he explained our co-pay and showed his insurance card at the time of check out. He replies that he did, but did not feel like arguing. I ask him if he likes throwing his money away to shiesty doctors and pimple faced Latin receptionist. He shrugs apathetically and offers to give me the number to the office so that I may "duke it out" with doc-in-the-box. After explaining that this really is his problem and not mine, he gives me the finger and plops down to play Playstation 3. I start questioning if I was right about making better choices than other people when it comes to picking a life partner.


March 28-
Turn on car and find engine light shining and loud squealing coming from under the hood. I alert my husband to the issue and he chalks it up to my inability to take the car for routine oil changes. After a 20 minute lecture on car maintenance, I leave and bring the car to a local mechanic. Upon hearing that I was 15,000 over due for the fluid change he proceeds to start the maintenance lecture where my husband left off. During his speech I daydream about taking the car and driving it off a bridge with both him and my husband in the trunk.

March 29-
It's pouring rain and the car must be towed to the dealer. In the middle of changing a shitty diaper the Tow-truck man rings the door bell. I launch myself out of my sons room and sprint down the tiled hallway. I come to a few second later face down on the floor-knee and hand throbbing- wondering why the fucking floor was wet in the hall and how I managed to miss this fact on my entrance earlier. I pull myself together, though my son is still laughing at my lack of equilibrium and answer the door. I do so without further destruction of my body and ego. I escort Tow-truck man to the car and take a mental note of its contents. Inside the center console- $7 in ones,in the cup holder- a handful of silver change and pennies and in the storage compartment under the radio- 2 purple Dr.Grip pens. Tow-truck man leaves with my car and valuables, while I am left to nurse my wounds with a Spiderman icepack and a stir crazy toddler.

March 30-
Grandma kindly offers to drive me to Gunther Mazda to retrieve my car. A 10 minute drive turns into an hour and 15 minute drive when grandma decides to drive 15 miles out of the way to save 10 cents a gallon on gas at "her" Hess station. We stop at every yellow light on our voyage and I contemplate petitioning my local government to revoke senior driving privileges. Thanks to God, Moses and Satan- we arrive at Gunther Mazda before my toddler's college graduation. When I receive my car and drive away, I survey the interior. I find that all the contents I mentally noted on March 29th are missing. I have a moment of clarity that is quickly cut short by my pettiness and love of purple Dr.Grip pens. I call Gunther and inform him of my stolen goods. He seems less concerned about my pens than I feel he should, but kindly offers to keep his "eyes peeled for them." As most managers are, he is more concerned about my missing money. He extends a peace offering and tells me to bring my car in for a free oil change the next time I'm due. I tell him that I'm not interested in being robbed twice and ask him to send me a check for $7.87 and a additional $12 for my stolen pens. He laughs and tells me to come in when I'm ready for an oil change. The phone then goes dead...

I hope that by putting this in black and white you are able to see the error of your ways. No need to apologise, just try not to let it happen again. However, if you insist on making it up to me, a check for $12 or 2 Dr.Grip pens (purple) would be wonderful. I really doubt Gunther was serious when he said he would look for them.

Take care,
Jennie Nadler Milechman


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