To start we went out for a nice breakfast where there was a play ground for my daughter to disappear into and we could sit in peace.  Then as we were leaving my daughter did the one thing I will never forget this Mother’s day. For the first time she looked at me, unprompted, and said “I uub uu”. (That’s I love you in 2 year old speak) KABOOM! Did you hear that? That was my heart exploding.

Then we headed home, to simply have my hubby turn around and leave again with daughter in tow, to give me some quiet alone time with Lifetime. Ya, I’ll admit it. When I’m feeling all gushy and woman like I tend to see whats happening on the ole’ Lifetime movie channel.  This is also where you can find me when I’m running a fever or have decided that I’m never shaving my legs and armpits again and the man in my life can suck it. There’s nothing like a happy ending to a cheesy murder or mismatched love to make a day either go by faster or slower depending on my mood at the moment.   But today was all gushy, balloons, and pink carnations… and love stories for Mom… Sigh.

After a nice afternoon on the couch I decided to open a bottle of wine, it was technically 5:00 somewhere, and pored myself a massive sized glass, or two… ah hem…or three.  I’m typically a 2 glass and then I’ll start giggling type of chick and I hate showing that giggle side of me.  Too many crazy things have happened in my life, (Dad, look away) some of them including water and nudity, when I have the giggles. But I figured the gravitational pull of my couch was enough to keep me planted and safe, even if I was snickering and snorting at every commercial like a banshie.

By dinner time, which I only halfway helped my husband cook, (somebody had to deal with the whole chicken otherwise it probably would have ended up breaded, fried, stuffed, sauteed, and undercooked.) I was in complete heaven.  Nice dinner, happy daughter (she spent the whole day with daddy which made her glow and will probably result in today being a special kind of hell as she won’t get to see him as much) , and a husband who even did dishes after dinner.  Ahhh.  The only thing missing was a bubble bath but by then I’d had enough to drink I probably would have drowned in the tub.

Today, instead of hung over, I’m feeling rather spry and happy.  And as I sit here writing this my husband is still crashed out asleep.  Poor guy. I think he had a long day. You see, I think Mother’s day isn’t only a day to celebrate moms but to really impress on those in your life that Mothers are a special blend of DNA that create an amazing person. We are genetically designed to be able to carry a multitude of duties throughout the day from scraping day old egg off plates that suddenly appear in the sink to battling unwilling and “OMG what is THAT?…..  Urp…Never mind” kind of stains in the laundry. Cleaning up puke, poop, and pee from everything hairy and hairless living under the roof and making sure everyone is happy and content and well napped even if it means avoiding sleep your self.  Protecting all the family members from themselves and those “Hay, look at me moments!”.  And magically making the boo boos from those moments disappear with a kiss. And don’t forget our ability to bend time and find several hours a day of extra day light for blowing bubbles outside, going down slides, or pushing swings. Making sure all the family members are well fed and the fridge won’t ever run out of milk and cheese. Cooking dinner. Ducking as dinner is shot at you, baby style, with fork sling shots.  Cleaning up the battle grounds after dinner. All to the tune of a small little kiss good night and the knowledge that we get to do it all over again the next day. And we go to bed with a satisfied sigh BECAUSE we do get to do it all again the next day. We are moms and we are multi-taskers. We were born to be torn in so many different directions we make Humpty Dumpty look like a chump. And we pull it all together everyday for the betterment of our families and those we love. And we carry with us the satisfaction that WE did that. I am MOM! Hear me ROAR!

It’s the hardest, dirtiest, smelliest, stickiest, selfless/selfish job on earth.  And I wouldn’t trade it for anything else.

What pisses me off?  People who park in handicapped places without proper tags.  If you do this may Karma kick you in your ass. May your tires be slashed and gas tanks filled with sugar by an unsupervised teenager who was raised by parents who believe that parking in handicapped spots without proper tags was ok.  There are no excuses for this.  If you need a tag go get one or search for a closer unmarked spot.  And moms, I feel no pity for you.  I know what its like trying to drag out a stroller, adjust all the multiple necessary bags for easier carrying, and deal with a pissy kid(s) all while in a rainstorm with gale force winds.  I’ve done it.  I live in Texas ya’ll.  The home of the Texas Gully Washer where sometimes during the spring rains pop up so fast wearing socks is a waste of time because they are going to get soaked.  And worst of all I’ve done it from parking spaces WAY out in the BFE of parking lots during the H-O-L-I-D-A-Y-S!  In other words your mid afternoon jaunt to the mall does not constitute a reason to park in a handicapped space without a tag.  Being a parent is not a handicap and you’re teaching your children that it’s ok to break the law and that it’s ok to be irresponsible turds.

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But people please!  If you pick it…don’t flick it!

For those who don’t know what I mean, its where someone is digging for gold nuggets in their nostrils and come up with a gob of fools gold of which isn’t worthy of keeping so they choose to flick it in the general direction of the floor. The same floor that I might have to walk on and the same floor that I probably will drop something on because I have all the grace of a drunken monkey in a vat of whiskey.  And the same floor that my kid might just fall face first on. (Another gene passed on I’m afraid.)

Do I need to go on as to how disgusting that could be?  Because, really I could. I could go on and tell you about all the wonderful viruses that live in the noses of healthy people but spread with mucus and could make someone else very sick. But I shouldn’t have to.  You’re a grown up right? At least the person is who I watched with their finger jammed up to their knuckle who decided to flick their findings on the floor right in front of me.   I know you’re out there.  And in all probability you’re not reading this.  But I hope beyond all hope that your wife is.

Also, after you dig for your gold, hopefully with tissue in hand to contain your finding,  will you please not touch anything else with your contaminated hand?  Because that’s just nasty.  Think about it…..The next time a perfect stranger sneezes in front of you why don’t you just block their snot rockets with your own hand. Then slap yourself with it.

Mmm, K?

Thanks!

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Hugs and Kisses!

My first rant for this first inaugural Murky Monday is a piece off a list I’ve been compiling for a while called My Top 10 Things That Irritate Me.  When I started putting this list together I first off realized that I had a lot more than 10 things that irk me, and if I tried to post them all in one post you as a reader would be forced to take a nap after number 7.  So what better time and place then now to share a chunk of my irritation?

Woman who stare at me like I’m doing something wrong when I’m changing my daughter’s diaper in public bathrooms.  Ladies!! That’s why there is a changing table!! For changing diapers!! And it’s not like I’m taking my daughter to places where you wouldn’t exactly find children so why the shocked faces at seeing my daughters naked too too?  And also please take the stick out of your butts when said establishments choose to put the changing station in the handicapped stalls.  Just because you want a little extra space to umm…turn around in, and I can’t blame you, but that doesn’t give you the right to stand there and give me dirty looks as I take my sweet time.  Wiping a dirty kids ass takes a healthy dose of concentration just like it can take a lot of wipes.  And the longer you stare the longer it’s going to take.  My kiddo doesn’t mind if I sing the alphabet to her again.  Do you?

OK, so maybe I can’t take the funny out of everything I write and why should I? Irritations can be funny too if taken from a different perspective.

So its official! Mondays are now Murky Mondays where you can almost see the funny through the haze of crap that covers it up. Join me each week for a little ranting! And if you’d like to get something off your chest please feel free to write it up as your own Murky Monday and leave your link here or just vent it here in the comment section. We all need to get things off our minds so why not support each other?