Let Me Play For You The Sounds Of My People – Yes It’s My Washer

Some days I swear laundry is the story of my life.

Just when you think you’re caught up the kids get home from school and start to strip. Game. Over.

I imagine that when I die, laundry will be a part of my eulogy.

“She could wash and fold towels like a boss.”

bathtowels

Someone reading this is smirking because they think they’re caught up on laundry. Take a look at your dusty ass curtains. You’re welcome.

There is always something to wash; For example, I could wash sheets today. But I won’t. I bought a one way ticket to Laundry-Ain’t-Us Ville and my train just left the station.

Show of hands: I know I’m not the only mom that’s ever been woken up in the middle of the night by a puking kid. It’ s a sound that will make your hair stand on end. Even worse is when you wake up because you feel someone staring at you while you sleep and it’s your kid announcing they think they’re gonna hurl. For the love of all that is holy get the hell out of here then!

Another show of hands: Who else has ever tossed the puke sheets in the trash and said not today Satan. There are some things that I’ll just replace. Fuck it.

Knock on wood and pass me the salt shaker, I haven’t had a puker in a while. I think my kids are getting to that age where things like that don’t happen as often anymore. Thank. God.

When offspring 1 was a wee baby, he had a nasty little stomach bug. So I had him laying next to me in my bed because he looked and felt so pitiful.

And that’s when he vomits in my ear.

IN. MY. EAR.

Have you ever had puke in your ear?? I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you. Pretty sure there’s still a bit of something blocking my tubes.

main_art_2167040

For those of you that have yet to have kids and are now second guessing the possibility, hear me; I have also had puke in my bra, and hair and once offspring 1 puked in my hands because it was the only receptacle I had available at the time.

Parenting is not for the faint of heart or weak of stomach. But it is a wild ride, so if you fancy yourself a thrill seeker, bust you out a baby then.

In a nutshell, you wash a lot of shit after you have kids. Literally. Not sure how a cat turd made its way to the washer, but it happened.

If any of you have a good puke story, or even turd story about your kids that you want to share with me, please do. I’m feeling a bit shittastic today so let’s keep this party going!

Always end your day with laughter,

Olive Oyl Momma

I Wish It Was Friday; Also, I Wish I Had An Elephant

This was the morning breakfast conversation I had with offspring 2 today.

He announced he wished it was Friday. I said ugh, hold up. It has to be at least Wednesday to wish for Friday. Let’s wish for an elephant in the backyard instead.

Conversations with kids are fun.

Anywho, let’s recap the weekend. I took a brief reprieve from blogging; it was starting to consume me. Every thought that flits through my head I want to blog about. Apparently it has affected my husband, too, as he said more than once this past weekend, “you should blog about that.” Which had me wondering, is there an echo in here??

Saturday gave us beautiful weather so the husband took the offspring fishing at a creek. They brought home a friend which I promptly informed them we wouldn’t be keeping. Meet Muddy Buddy:

Muddy Buddy

Thanks to one of my brilliant, genius friends that knows all things turtle, we found out this little dude is a common Musk or Mud Turtle. Years ago, we had a tiny baby red eared slider. Turtles are really cool but they also are really stinky. So on that note, I didn’t want to add to my zoo. As you can see, I made him a little mud box and after a few hours of observation, we released him back into the creek. Good times!

In our house we are HUGE Walking Dead fans. If you’re not, leave. now.

Just kidding.

The season finale was last night. I won’t give any spoilers but I will say it wasn’t as exciting as we were hoping. Bottom line: Daryl is still with us and that’s all that matters.

9b00989d25daa1e3ca1ee147ba92d9b4

You’re welcome ladies.

So I guess that about sums it up.

It’s Monday, my alarm went off at WTF o’clock, and here I am.

I’ll be seeing all of you tomorrow!

Always end your day with laughter,

Olive Oyl Momma

P.S. What did all of you do with your weekend? Let me know in the comments!

P.S.A for the Parents, And Also You Over There Eavesdropping

Night before last I did something obscene.

After cooking and eating dinner with the family, I proceeded with my normal nightly routine of put away leftovers, load dishwasher, wash dishes, pack sack lunches and prep coffee maker for the a.m.

And then at 7:45 in the evening, I left.

I left and went over to a girlfriend’s house and spent three hours drinking coffee while catching up with a good friend.

coffee-smil

It was up to my husband to make sure the offspring took their showers, brushed their teeth and went to bed on time. And *GASP*, everything went off without a hitch.

Can you believe it??

The Earth did not stop spinning because mom took some time for herself.

The house did not burn down.

A party wasn’t thrown.

And pigs did not start to fly.

So here’s a question for you:

When was the last time you took a time-out?

When was the last time you had coffee with a friend without the interruptions of life storming in?

When was the last time you had a nap or a pedicure or simply read a book in peace?

Hey dads! When was the last time you hung out with a buddy?

Went fishing? Played Golf? Or just zoned out in front of the t.v. all by yourself?

If you can’t remember the last time, then now is the time.

Stop. Making. Excuses.

We are better people when when we take some time for ourselves.

We are better parents, spouses, partners and friends when we give ourselves a break.

I came home from coffee time relaxed and ready for bed. I came home with a smile on my face because we did a LOT of laughing.

I came home and everything was fine.

So here’s the deal: try in the next week to find time for a break. Even if it’s just an hour, try.

And then come back here and tell me about it.

Always end your day with laughter,

Olive Oyl Momma

So A Tampon & A Maxi Pad Walk Into A Bar…..

Today’s post is full of foul; don’t say I didn’t warn you.

I have Endometriosis. Yesterday, mother nature dropped her bomb and today I’m auctioning off my uterus to the lowest bidder. Hell, I’ll give the bitch away.

I wish I could adequately describe the pain in my lower back to those who don’t suffer from this shittastic monthly problem. Let’s just say me and my heating pad have an understanding even though he’s burned me a time or twenty.

Now let’s talk about the bloating that also accompanies the menses.

I. Look. Pregnant.

Early second trimester. It’s ridiculous. Fortunately, I have yet to be a victim of “oh you’re pregnant!” because it wouldn’t end well for the person that uttered those words. I would most likely throat punch them then follow it up with a Go Fuck Yourself.

And to top it all off I have a really bad attitude right now. This is the ONLY time of the month that I can say anything to anyone and have no regrets. None. Zero. Zilch.

I’m like a bad infomercial.

“Do you need to tell someone off but don’t know how?? Well here’s your chance folks. Call 1-900-oliveoylmomma and for the low rate of just .10 cents a minute she’ll gladly tell every rat bastard mother fucker that’s ever done you wrong or looked at you cross eyed where to go and exactly how to get there. Don’t delay, call today!”

gMIuuU_ohkqq8Mz828Kqqg

Now, some of you may be thinking, “this crazy bitch needs a doctor!” Well I have one. And her answer was Prozac. Let me tell you what THAT did. It took the edge off. So my filter was slightly thicker, but I still told random strangers to eat shit and die.

Normally I’m a really, really nice person. I like to bake cookies and shit. And cuddle with puppies.

But not today. Tomorrow isn’t looking good for me either.

So there you have it. Once a month every month I’m an asshole.

Thanks for stopping by!

Olive Oyl Momma

P.S. Today I’m not laughing BUT, I would like to so please, tell me something funny. Anything. I’ll only ask nicely once and then you know what could happen…

Britches &Twitches – Things That Make Mom’s Drink Wine in the Closet

It’s spring picture day at the elementary school and I’m typing this one-handed because I have a death grip on my wine bottle with the other. It’s not quite 9 a.m.

Not really but, I’m on the verge.

You would think that offspring number 2 at the ripe old age of ten would no longer argue about what he will and will not wear on any given day.

Think again.

I swear my youngest was born in the wrong era. He would have been much happier fashion-wise as a child of the 70’s; obscenely short shorts and t-shirts everyday. Peace & Love dude.

263760

It’s my fault really. Apparently I passed on the OCD gene and he was the lucky recipient. You know what they say, if it’s not one thing it’s the mother.

Let’s take it back to his toddler years so you can gain a clearer understanding here:

Cowboy boots, diaper and t-shirt. Done. Dressed for the day so obviously we stayed home a lot.

A bit older and it became shorts and flip-flops. Everyday.

When he started kindergarten and found out he would need to wear actual pants quite a bit, the meltdowns came. Eventually (now don’t laugh), we had to confiscate and hide all of his shorts. No joke. No matter the weather or reasoning, he always wanted to wear shorts.

Imagine our surprise when one day we said to the offspring, “get dressed, we’re going out to dinner”, and out he comes wearing a knit polo with swim trunks and tennis shoes.

It never occurred to us that we needed to take the swimming apparel, too.

In more recent years it has become somewhat better. We incorporated his help with clothing purchases and found out that he’ll only wear thin cotton plaid shorts (they feel the best), he prefers v-neck t’s to crew, he has one pair of jeans that “don’t make him sweat”, ankle socks ONLY but they MUST be a specific style in the toe so as not to bunch up when wearing tennis shoes, and don’t get me started on the whole underwear thing. I’ll save that for another day.

To top it all off, we also had to reach an agreement about when he can and cannot wear shorts. So, three seasons out of four he checks the weather religiously. If the temps are supposed to reach at least 60 degrees, he can wear shorts.

The only clothing he never complains about are his school uniforms. Why, we’ll never know.

Okay, so back to this morning. Spring pictures = the kids can wear whatever they want. I had visions of him wearing a plaid button-up looking spring-like and shit. That’s not what happened.

After a lot of huffing, eye rolling and a foot stomp or two (all of these were my actions), he left the house in a v-neck and plaid cotton shorts.

Go. Figure.

wine-parents-drink-mother-kids-family-ecards-someecards

Always end your day with laughter,

Olive Oyl Momma

P.S. Do your kids have any funny quirks? Share them with me! And then we’ll have wine!

Rodent on the Run – A Mouse Tail

A few years ago I was sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee and hammering it out on my laptop (much as I am today), and out of the corner of my eye I thought I saw a mouse.

Gross.

“No”, I said to myself. No way, no how. Must have been a shadow.

Until it happened again the next morning.

Double gross.

So I called the husband and told him I thought we had a mouse. He told me I was seeing shadows.

Whatever.

Morning three gave me a clear view of the little bastard. It was one of those surreal moments where you know you just saw a mouse run under your dishwasher but you’re the only one home and the dog can’t talk so there goes your eye witness.

This time I called my mom. She tells me they have mouse traps if I want to borrow them. (don’t you just love how mom will always give you the benefit of the doubt?) But I was hesitant. I knew my kids wouldn’t bother them but my dog probably would and I really didn’t want him popping his nose. She also told me where there’s one there’s usually two.

Well shit.

Later in the week I get a call from my kids.

“Ugh mom? Charmin killed a mouse in our room.”

Meet Charmin

Charmin and his boy

Well way to go Charmin! One down. One to go?

Fast forward a few weeks.

It’s that wonderful time of night where the parents are relaxing in the living room watching the ‘ol boob-tube and the kiddies are showered and brushed, quietly entertaining themselves until bedtime.

Offspring number 2 informs me that he will be building Lego’s until bed.

From the living room I hear the unmistakable, cringe worthy sound of a GIANT box of Lego’s being dumped on his floor.

And then a blood curdling scream.

It was actually more of a blood curdling scream with a squeal thrown in for good measure.

So I went running.

And there my friends, was mouse number two laying amongst the Lego’s.

binky-lego-house-7-shopped

Here’s what we think happened upon inspection of Stuart Little:

The evidence showed heart failure with a side of cat-got-your-throat. Too, graphic?

And we think that after being slung into the air by our wonderful Charmin, mouse managed to escape the clutches of the ruthless cat villain where he then crawled into the haven of the Lego box and breathed his last.

So there you have it folks. My mom was right; where there is one there will probably be two.

Old Charmin earned his keep that summer and we haven’t seen a mouse in the house since.

Always end you day with laughter my friends,

Olive Oyl Momma

If You Can’t Say Something Nice, You Can Always Tell Me

Maybe the title of today’s blog post is a bit misleading. It makes me sound like a gossip.

And everyone knows it’s only gossip if you repeat it so listen closely, I’ll only tell you once.

The bottom line is I’ve been sitting in front of this keyboard for a lengthy amount of time, and I don’t know what to blog about today. Holy brain fart.

Anybody else having this problem?

So here’s a random picture of my dog

Patch

Maybe I need a nap. I read something somewhere (don’t ask me where, I’m in brain fart mode), that said creative people need naps to help inspire creativity. Do any of you agree with this statement? I do. Many times I do awaken inspired. Other times snarky. And still other times one would think I rolled out of bed and popped a bitter-bitch-pill.

Today I’m just existing.

Here’s a random picture of me being an idiot

Me being an idiot

By the way, those glasses are remnants from a 3-D movie I saw and there are no lenses. I like to put them on when my teenagers friends pop in; they find it hysterical, him, not so much as you can see in this pic. (but then again it kind of looks like he’s sleeping when the reality was he was telling me to get out of his room while trying to avoid being in the frame.)

Maybe I’ll talk about my WordPress experience thus far.

I started this blog last week. Am I new to writing? No.

Am I new to blogging? Hell Yes.

How am I doing? I’m not sure yet, but I’m having fun and for now that’s good enough for me.

I follow quite a few people on here. Some of ya’ll are hysterical. I appreciate that.

If you’ll humor me by viewing the sidebar, there is a list of the blogs I currently follow. Look them up, they’re awesome.

That’s it for today. So I’ll leave you with a picture of a glass bottle one of my offspring found in the lake and I painted it and shit out of sheer boredom

Glass Bottle Craft Day

Always end your day with laughter,

Olive Oyl Momma