8:30 in the morning is too early to have to actively TRY not to kill people with my car. As a matter of fact, I think I'm going to re-name our car "CHILD SLAYER". I will emblazon this name on the hood of my car, throw on some horns and paint flames up the sides.
All of the kids with a little bit of common sense will know to stay away from CHILD SLAYER. There will be tales told about how my car eats children and they will scream and run in fear on sight. When they hear the purr of my engine, they will walk faster through crosswalks and clear the street. It will be magical.
Of course, that will be probably backfire on me, living in the San Francisco area. All of the little hipster kids will jump in front of CHILD SLAYER because they want to die in the most ironic way possible. Skinny jeans, flannels and thick, black glasses will be stuck in the undercarriage. CHILD SLAYER will go all Christine on me and will force me to listen to mixed tapes of shitty underground bands. And it will refuse to take in anything but gasoline made from ears of corn.
That sounds like way too much work. Maybe I should get just start getting a little more sleep.
Monday, November 26, 2012
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
Thursday, November 8, 2012
Vaginas at the Dentist's Office.
Today, I am that mom who makes you glad you don't have kids.
Or at the very least, glad you don't have as many (three) kids as I do.
I got a good half dozen, so-hard-they-were-audible eye rolls and an infuriating amount of tongue clicks as we "sat" in the waiting room at the dentist's office. And by "sat", I mean that I stood in the middle of the room, trying to use my feet to direct my somersaulting children back to chairs while my hands were kept busy with paperwork.
Apparently I lost my God damned mind when I booked this dentist appointment for all three kids at the same time. I must have.
To be fair, I did think that because I had made the appointment weeks in advance that by some miracle my husband would come with us to help. Apparently I was insane AND smoking meth.
That obviously didn't happen.
And so I spent my morning/early afternoon frantically hushing my screaming monsters and visually scanning the room for sharp corners that I could use to impale myself if my day didn't start to turn around.
Of course there was plenty of paperwork that had to be filled out as soon as we walked in the door. I hate paperwork. As soon as my kids caught sight of me putting pen to paper, my inattentiveness allowed them to turn into waiting room demons, creeping their sticky-little-kid-fingers up the sides of the chairs of the other patients, cartwheeling into the shins of all of the people, trying so unsuccessfully to ignore their presence.
Ain't working, right? Yeah, it doesn't work for me either.
I scribbled that shit down as fast as I could.
Sorry there's no way this is legible, but it's what you're getting out of me right now.
I handed the forms to the receptionist. And that's when I noticed an unexpected sight from across the room.
Why do I see my four year old's vagina?!?
Face, meet palm. My kid's vagina was out at the dentist's office.
I let her dress herself this morning, in a frantic attempt to shave a whole 68 seconds out of our "running out of the house as fast as we can" routine. So she decided that she wasn't wearing underpants. And the pair of pants she put on had a hole the size of a fist in the crotch.
My child was literally cartwheeling around the waiting room in crotchless pants, flashing her vagina.
Maybe those eye-rolls are warranted.
I nonchalantly jogged back to my seat and covered her up with a magazine, looked down at the floor and let out a good ten second sigh. And prayed to every deity imaginable that no one else had noticed.
We haven't even made it in to see the dentist yet. Not off to a great start.
REVISED MISSION: Make it through the appointment without killing self or children AND make sure that crotchless pants go unnoticed.
So I spent the next ten minutes, sitting next to the flasher in the waiting room chair and holding her legs together before they called us in to the exam room.
"Come on back!" said the receptionist, who I'm sure had to be aware of the predicament I was in.
Alright, three kids, one chair. They were gonna have to take turns.
I had my two year old go first and it became painfully obvious that the hygienist, who could not get him to open his mouth, did not have children.
Also obvious, was the fact that the other patients in the room did NOT want my six-year-old to do a loud, running commentary about their dental procedures.
And the vagina flasher decided that no matter where she sat, it was gonna be spread eagle.
Remind me later to sew this chick's legs together.
Ugh. REVISED MISSION: Try not to kill self or children, carry flasher around to make sure crotchless pants go unnoticed, get six-year-old to sit down nicely and stop bugging people AND coach idiot teenager through brushing my son's teeth by making up stories about spiderman killing the sugar germs.
We made it through the rest of the appointment relatively unscathed. Everyone had perfect teeth and no cavities. Thank God. Cause I would have had an apocalyptic scale meltdown anyone needed teeth drilled today.
Lesson learned. Never taking all three kids to a dentist's office at one time by myself.
Oh, and I will be doing a vagina check from now on every time we leave the house.
Or at the very least, glad you don't have as many (three) kids as I do.
I got a good half dozen, so-hard-they-were-audible eye rolls and an infuriating amount of tongue clicks as we "sat" in the waiting room at the dentist's office. And by "sat", I mean that I stood in the middle of the room, trying to use my feet to direct my somersaulting children back to chairs while my hands were kept busy with paperwork.
Apparently I lost my God damned mind when I booked this dentist appointment for all three kids at the same time. I must have.
To be fair, I did think that because I had made the appointment weeks in advance that by some miracle my husband would come with us to help. Apparently I was insane AND smoking meth.
That obviously didn't happen.
And so I spent my morning/early afternoon frantically hushing my screaming monsters and visually scanning the room for sharp corners that I could use to impale myself if my day didn't start to turn around.
Of course there was plenty of paperwork that had to be filled out as soon as we walked in the door. I hate paperwork. As soon as my kids caught sight of me putting pen to paper, my inattentiveness allowed them to turn into waiting room demons, creeping their sticky-little-kid-fingers up the sides of the chairs of the other patients, cartwheeling into the shins of all of the people, trying so unsuccessfully to ignore their presence.
Ain't working, right? Yeah, it doesn't work for me either.
I scribbled that shit down as fast as I could.
Sorry there's no way this is legible, but it's what you're getting out of me right now.
I handed the forms to the receptionist. And that's when I noticed an unexpected sight from across the room.
Why do I see my four year old's vagina?!?
Face, meet palm. My kid's vagina was out at the dentist's office.
I let her dress herself this morning, in a frantic attempt to shave a whole 68 seconds out of our "running out of the house as fast as we can" routine. So she decided that she wasn't wearing underpants. And the pair of pants she put on had a hole the size of a fist in the crotch.
My child was literally cartwheeling around the waiting room in crotchless pants, flashing her vagina.
Maybe those eye-rolls are warranted.
I nonchalantly jogged back to my seat and covered her up with a magazine, looked down at the floor and let out a good ten second sigh. And prayed to every deity imaginable that no one else had noticed.
We haven't even made it in to see the dentist yet. Not off to a great start.
REVISED MISSION: Make it through the appointment without killing self or children AND make sure that crotchless pants go unnoticed.
So I spent the next ten minutes, sitting next to the flasher in the waiting room chair and holding her legs together before they called us in to the exam room.
"Come on back!" said the receptionist, who I'm sure had to be aware of the predicament I was in.
Alright, three kids, one chair. They were gonna have to take turns.
I had my two year old go first and it became painfully obvious that the hygienist, who could not get him to open his mouth, did not have children.
Also obvious, was the fact that the other patients in the room did NOT want my six-year-old to do a loud, running commentary about their dental procedures.
And the vagina flasher decided that no matter where she sat, it was gonna be spread eagle.
Remind me later to sew this chick's legs together.
Ugh. REVISED MISSION: Try not to kill self or children, carry flasher around to make sure crotchless pants go unnoticed, get six-year-old to sit down nicely and stop bugging people AND coach idiot teenager through brushing my son's teeth by making up stories about spiderman killing the sugar germs.
We made it through the rest of the appointment relatively unscathed. Everyone had perfect teeth and no cavities. Thank God. Cause I would have had an apocalyptic scale meltdown anyone needed teeth drilled today.
Lesson learned. Never taking all three kids to a dentist's office at one time by myself.
Oh, and I will be doing a vagina check from now on every time we leave the house.
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
Five things the Presidential candidates and my children have in common.
Today is election day and regardless of the issues and who you support
(or who makes you want to burn effigies), it is your responsibility to
get out there and vote. Have your voice be heard.
I mean, sure, the electoral college will totally be the deciding factor, regardless of who wins the popular vote, but it's still super important to stand in line and fill out your ticket.
And sure, the candidates are both pure evil and regardless of who wins, it will still mean the same policies being implemented and the rich will still get richer...
Alright, so maybe I'm a bit cynical, but hey, today marks the end of what we really care about.
NO MORE POLITICAL CRAP ON FACEBOOK!
So anywho... Everyone, enjoy your election day, exercise your freedoms...
And here is my contribution.
Five things the candidates and my children have in common.
1. They look really creepy when they try to force a smile. 
 | |
| She's a write in candidate. Vote Phoenix Terror 2012. |
2. Whenever they are in charge of spending, somehow I end up broke.
Yes, we really needed those seventeen jars of peanut butter. And private jets for all our buddies. 
3. They always seem to get themselves in a heap of shit.
 | |
| Totally a brownie btw. Just for visual effect. |
4. They are massive flip-floppers.
"Mommy, I want to be something you are gonna have to make because they don't sell it in stores for Halloween."
"Oh, you made my costume already ? I meant that I wanted to be a Disney princess."
"I want vanilla ice cream!"
"Oops, I meant chocolate. NO! Strawberry!."
"Women shouldn't be able to have abortions!"
"Abortions for everyone!"
Make up your goddamn minds already.
5. When they get riled up, they don't listen to a thing you say.
 |
 |
So whichever candidate you decide to vote for:
Whether it's Obama riding a Unicorn:
Or Romney-Jesus:
Just get out there today and vote!
HAPPY ELECTION DAY!
(P.S. I stole all of these images, minus the ones of my kids off of the interwebz and do not claim ownership of them)
(P.S.S. I'm voting for Roseanne)
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