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My eldest son just turned 11. And it’s almost like his hormones were all “holy shit, we’re 11. We get to be complete douche bags now,” and his tweensanity has been on the forefront of life.

Now, I don’t want you to get the wrong idea, Boy Wonder, as I’ve so aptly named him, is a phenomenal kid; an excellent student, a loyal friend, a die-hard athlete, but he is still just a kid. And kid’s haven’t fully hatched yet into grown-up thoughts. Shit, I know some grown-ups who haven’t fully hatched into grown-up thoughts, I’m sure you do too, so, I don’t expect him to be rational with the rules around here. We have one new rule in the house that he thinks is completely stupid, and he has no problem voicing that at every turn.

Boy Wonder is a computer dude. If he had his way, he’d spend every waking moment on his computer. He’ll probably be one of those guys who figures out how to rig a catheter and blend all his meals – hey, I guess we’ll find out when he goes to college – but right now, I’m his mom.

And. That. Shit. Ain’t. Gonna. Fly.

Read More →

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Scary

Um, yeah. Little Bunny Foo Foo grew up. Into a Pulp Fiction, bat wielding, badass, who ruins cheese.

We don’t go out to eat much. In the interest of common decency, we tend to spare the outside world from the onslaught that is three boys surrounding a table. ‘Cause it’s a fucking shit show. And that’s just what happens in our house. We have doors there to separate our insanity from the general population of random people walking the earth.

But sometimes, even common decency gets thrown by the wayside, and I find myself texting the hubby, “Can we please go out to eat tonight?” And he’s all, “Sure. Somewhere classy.” And I’m all, “Of course, I’m a lady.’

And that’s how our family of five ends up at Hooters.

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“Mommy, I want an Umpa Lompa. I WANT AN UMPA LUMPA, NOW!”

If you’ve glanced at a newspaper or a television or the internet in the past 20 years you’ve realized that there are many people walking around who shouldn’t have children. Like, “maybe forced sterilization isn’t such a bad idea or an inhuman conclusion,” sort of people. I watch the news. I read the horrible stories of abuse and neglect that seem to occur on the daily. These insane situations are the types of thing that just a headline can send your mood into a tailspin.

So here’s the problem…

While there are human beings out there that are abusing their children, not every parent is abusive. Just like not every person likes donuts (although I’d have to believe if you don’t like donuts there is fundamentally something wrong with you) and some people don’t like cheese (again, these people are most likely insane and should probably be kept away from the rest of us, normal people) but just because I have children, and at times they get upset or unruly in public, that doesn’t mean I am abusing them. Read More →

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Yikes

“Now, THIS, is a reason to hit the gym!” “Yup, but his dick is the size of my thigh gap.” “Ohh, BURN.”

 

It’s that time of year again. Yeah, bae, the resolutions were made and now every mother and her mother’s mother is hittin’ up the local Crunch Fitness like it’s her job. At this point, I just refer to all the new faces I see after New Year as Felicia, ’cause by February, that bitch is gonna be all sorts of bye. Here’s a point of reference for the resolution moms you’ll meet at the gym.

The Prom Queen

This gal makes a Kardashian look like just some lowly hoe vying for attention. She dresses like she owns the place, catwalks like Gucci is watching and is never seen actually working out. If your gym has a juice bar; she’ll be there, surrounded by her adoring subjects. She’s also been known to cry and walk out the first 10 minutes of Power Yoga because the instructor overlooked a namaste in her direction. Read More →

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What happens if you don’t see “The Force Awakens” on opening day? The Millennium Falcon will find you, and attempt to eat you. I guess.

I am a Star Wars nerd. I’ve been living as a normal human being for over 32 years. Crushing on a young Han Solo, dressing up as Princess Leia for umpteenth Halloween costumes. Involving my children in the watching of all the movies, wearing of all the clothes, riding on all the rides and coveting all the gear for the upcoming Christmas season.

You should see the shit we’re wrapping right now. Kylo Ren dolls that are almost as big as my toddler. The merchandising on this movie is insane. Spaceballs was right. They do have Star Wars toilet paper.

All these things considered I would be unable to view the latest Star Wars movie on opening day. The baby is too young to go to the movies and attempting to find a sitter just seemed like a waste of time.

I. Am. An. Adult. Read More →

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It’s finally time for the Grilled Cheesus Giveaway!!

Here is the hilarious quiz for your shot to win one of the three Grilled Cheesus sandwich presses I’m giving away.

Remember, the first three people to get all the correct answers will be the winners.

Good Luck!

 

 

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Holy shit, you guys.

Besides the fact that it’s the hap, happiest time of the year, I survived Hanukkah, the Christmas tree is up, and I actually have something to give away this year.

Did you hear that?

No?

That was the sound of me, Riverdancing in front of my laptop – because swag – I have fucking swag! I’m like the Academy Awards mixed with The Golden Globes and some Kardashian, but better (and a lot cleaner, and less ass, you get my drift)! So much better, because my friend invented this swag. And I already own it, so I can vouch for its amazingness.

And I have 3 to give away. That’s not a typo. Really.

If you’re new to the blog I’ll give you the condensed version. I’m personally looking 4o years of living in the underbelly, I have 3 sons, I grew up in Merrick, Long Island. That’s in New York, but it’s not Staten Island – don’t ever get that shit twisted – and I’ve been living in SW Florida for the last 20 years.

Got it? Good. Cause you’re gonna need to know that shit.

A couple of years ago, a great friend of mine from high school invented a product that wasn’t just functional, it was funny. And you all know I’m a sucker for the funny.

The Grilled Cheesus sandwich press takes the random ingredients from around your kitchen and turns them into a delectable work of art (that just so happens to have an image of Jesus burned into the bread). Meg introduced her product via Kickstarter, and now her company, OMR Goods, is kicking ass and taking names – while contributing proceeds to those in need – can I get a what, what?!

Now, because I’m a practicing Jew, married to a Roman Catholic with 4 menorahs currently on my mantle and a Christmas tree in my living room, you might wonder, “Wow Amy, are you confused?”

The answer, in a nutshell, is no. I’m not confused. This is the best sandwich maker I’ve ever owned and I find the whole Jesus thing to be playful. So much so, that I used it to make a dozen sandwiches and brought them to the Temple for Sunday school last year. Yeah, I’m fun like that.

Now for the awesome part… in coordination with Meg and OMR Goods, I’m getting to give away 3, YES, 3, Grilled Cheesus sandwich makers!

Are you guys ready?

I’m so excited. Might need to wear some adult diapers tomorrow, cause 3 kids, y’all.

Okay, here are the contest details…

Meg created this hilarious quiz with 10 questions. The first 3 people to get all of the questions correct will win their very own Grilled Cheesus sandwich press. I’ll post the quiz here on the blog tomorrow at 1 PM EST.

See you tomorrow.

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scroogp

The holiday season didn’t just sneak up on me this year. It bent me over. Hard. Without warning or lubrication. I don’t mean that in a dirty, slutty, holy shit, Amy can you stop reading erotica way. I mean it in the, one day I saw a post on Facebook that said “Only 10 Saturdays until Christmas” and I was all, “Screw that” and went about my life.

Probably should have marked that on the calendar.

All of a sudden Amazon Prime is telling me my order won’t arrive until January 6th. Bah! Humbug!

And the children are asking for ridiculous gifts that aren’t cheap or even safe. Bah! Humbug!

Then the baby discovered a mesh bag of chocolate coins and ate them, through the mesh and the gold paper. Bah! Humbug!

Celebrating both Hannukah and Christmas is like a month of gift giving followed by a morning of shock and awe that George W. Bush would be proud of. Bah! Humbug!

And someone stole my credit card number and bought hundreds of dollars worth of shit with my money, that I didn’t authorize and will never have the pleasure of using, or breaking. Bah! Humbug!

So, even though I shouldn’t be surprised or unprepared, every year, like clockwork, I find myself knee deep in the holidays, my inner voice yelling, “Aw, fuck this” at every turn.

And I need to stop that shit. Right now. Read More →

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“Aw crap, are we playing next? Pass the MInecraft.”

I’m a soccer mom. My sister-in-law? A football mom. My neighbor across the street is a lacrosse mom, and my son’s preschool teacher is a cheer mom.

You know what we all have in common? The tie that binds here is that all of us are bat-shit, screw-loose, certifiably crazy. WE ARE WACKO. We have lost our minds. You are probably reading this while sitting at a gymnastics class separated by a glass partition, watching your little lovely learn to somersault. You are wacko too. You don’t believe me? Here are five telltale signs that sports moms are crazy. Read More →

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This is about right. I’m the beauty standing on the left as the shot falls to shit.

I’ve stood up in a handful of weddings in my day. Okay, more than a handful. I’ve also had the pleasure of walking down the aisle once myself. One wedding was enough planning, stress, lace and chair covers for my lifetime. Even if my beloved and cherished husband one day decides to leave me for a 24-year-old yoga instructor nicknamed “Tiff”, I will never marry again.

Unless it’s to Channing Tatum, because duh.

Since I’m almost 40 I assumed that this whole bridesmaid business was behind me. You know what they say about when you assume… Read More →