Breakfast in a Hotel


Yesterday I told you all about my glam life living in a hotel (room). Well, one of those posh perks is getting complimentary breakfast. This comes in super handy since my kids have started school, while living in a hotel (room), and the already mentioned tiny fridge we have doesn’t allow for extras like milk/juice/real food.

TGILW has been a real gem this week, and has gone down to the lobby for bagel toasting duty. But today, I went.
The loung-ey area was full of business types/ morning people all did up and ready to meet the day head on after a hearty processed breakfast!

And then there was me.



Messy hair- don’t care. Yesterday’s mascara caked into the bags under my eyes. My pajama yogas that have lived a thousand lives (and weight changes) complete with who-knows-what-stains all over them, my Target “sports bra” that gives the false impression I’m braless with 30 year old (saggy) boobs as opposed to 41 year old (saggier) boobs, a tank top that is at least 3 duty stations ago old. Oh, and a little drool dried into the chin, for good measure.
I don’t know these people, and my kids need some breakfast, so I’m going about my mom bizness, homeless look be damned.



Then some ladies walk in. Ladies of employment. No, not that  kind of employment.

Suits. And slick and professional hair do’s. And heels. And nary a drool patch. WTF? It’s like 7 am – in the MORNING. What time did they get up?? Their skirts are wrinkle free – to match their youthful faces, their crisp white blouses were all stain free (what sorcery is this?), they didn’t walk like Frankenstein in their classy pumps, the arms of their  fitted blazer  didn’t bunch around mid-hand like normal. These ladies were straight up adulting.



And I stood there with my plate piled with carbs (for the kids!!) and my sad yoga pants and my bra not really helping and my scrunchy morning face and my squinty why-don’t-I-wear-my-glasses-more face and my Gary Busey hair.

And this is my life. 

Happy Thanksgiving



adult beverageI was going to just repost my previous Thanksgiving nagging but decided to go in another direction. Sort of.

Every year I blather on about how much I dislike Black Friday and the barely hanging-on Brown Thursday. And I still keep my position on that nonsense. Shop from home on cyber Monday, like a hermit and let people enjoy the dang holiday.

But instead of being a total buzzkill about good deals (debateable!!) I thought I’d offer up some of the things I’m doing this week and maybe these themes will catch on, too, further pushing the need to actually give thanks for anything.

I’ve had a hectic week. Well, it’s been a hectic month. Let’s just say it’s been a hectic 4th quarter and move on…

In the midst of my manic life I blinked and it was time to prepare for the holidays, but this year we are on a micro budget (see this post for why) and to be honest I haven’t been in the most festive of moods. That and the fact that it has be freaking gorgeous here on the central coast, it makes it a little hard to get all crazy about “seasons”. I’m not complaining, just so we’re clear.

Anyways, Monday hit and I realized I had to get my ass in gear and get my shopping/cleaning/prepping done before our small invasion of family hit town.  I made some lists and got set for the upcoming festivities. I really think I’m onto something here.

Go-Into-Debt-For-Food Monday

Usually the commissary is closed here on Mondays (like a bunch of commies) but they switcheroo’d days this week since they’re taking Thursday and Friday (good for them!) off. I was really walking the fence about whether to drive out to the commissary or to piece my meal together from Trader Joes. The thought of combat shopping at either location was making me a total bummer. but when I realized at 5:00pm on Monday that the Commissary was,in fact, open AND they had 99cent/poundfresh turkeys, that sealed the deal.

I had a list. I had a budget. I had a tiny shopping cart. But I also had TGILW. Things are just more expensive with TGILW in tow.  I gave myself a good pep talk and we set out to get Thanksgiving dinner for under $80. We failed. It was actually way over. Oh well. We don’t need gas and we can hopefully eat leftovers and whatever is in the cobwebby pantry until payday. Why can’t we move Thanksgiving to the 15th?!? Like, when I actually have money for a hot minute. There was not a single 99cent/pound turkey to be found.

 Clean-The-House-For-Company-Like-a-Maniac Tuesday

This one is a little tricky, especially since I have dogs. And kids. I shouldn’t really ever clean a full day before guests come in. But my evil plan is to guilt the kids into doing the shit work on Wednesday after I explain how hard I worked on Tuesday. Actually, though, what’s the point? No one is going to notice how hard I worked. Who looks at baseboards or inside the fridge? Has anyone ever really noticed if I wiped behind the toilet? Yes, people have noticed, and those people won’t give a compliment on how nice it looks. Ever. But I still do it. I still move around the furniture and vacuum with the crevice attachment and wipe down every cabinet and counter. I still make sure all my  drawers have good  feng shui, the dust bunnies get evicted and I’ve even been known to reorganize my linen closet and/or laundry room. And garage.  All for the benefit disappointing disapproval.

Self-Medicate-With-Booze Wednesday 

Now this is a tradition I can get behind. Every year I make a fake goal to keep it cool, and every year I let myself down. And I’m not even upset with myself about it. The week has already been stressful right? Long lines, confusion over the turkey. How big?  How long to cook? Butterball? The other one? The off brand cheap-o? Should we even have  turkey? What if we did ham? Or Steak? Or spaghetti? How many trip does it take you to actually remember the cranberry sauce? Rolls? Extra butter? Then the cleaning: the laundry,the linens, the kitchen thats been filthy for weeks. Oh! and I gotta get to that oven before we set off the smoke alarms. Again.

Why not? Why not open a bottle of wine wile you prep and make your pies? What better way to welcome your guests and family than to get a little mother’s helper in you. Unless mother’s helper means drugs. I should Urban Dictionary that. WOW – I JUST FOUND AN UNDEFINED WORD!!  Anyways – my point is, it’s OK to destress with cocktail hour. Or Happy Hour. However many hours you need, take them.  Because life is hard and Thanksgiving can be crazytown.

And then on Thursday -I will be THANKFUL. Thankful for the food I could afford to buy, even thought it was over budget.Thankful for TGILW because he works hard and loves my manic side. Thankful for the house to clean, and the kids to make do the shit work. Thankful for the family that visits, and the booze to help me enjoy them.



Things You Find in a House Full of Girls




Hair ties, rubber bands, bobby pins. EVERYWHERE.

Random socks, never matching.

Bras galore- sports bras, training bras, huge bras, black bras, beige bras, clear strap bras, padded bras.

4 different deodorants. 4 different hair brushes. 4 different lotions.

Empty conditioner bottles.

Pads and tampons and pantyliners in every bathroom.

Chocolate all the time.

Door slamming.

Towels, always on the floor.

Dolls and Polly Pockets and pastel legos. But also soccer balls and gymnastic grips and hand chalk.

Screaming as a language.

Overflowing laundry baskets… filled with yoga pants and athletic shorts.

Flip Flops.

A filthy bathroom.

Chuck Taylors.

Less pink than you would think.

A lot of bitchiness. But a lot of laughter, too.


Nail polish.


Ace bandages.

Stacks of American Girl Doll Magazines.

Slugs of all sizes.

More hair doobobs.

Crafts. Looms and Easy Bakes and washi and sparkly markers and rainbow colors and seam rippers and DIY for days.


A constantly full lint trap.

A constantly empty ice cream container, still in the freezer.

Goodnight kisses.

The word “turd”.

Tiny bottles of hairspray.

Overly fragrant hand sanitizer. In sparkly/loud/silly hand sanitizer holders.

Tons of space taken up in my dayplanner.

BandAids. But rarely ever ON  them.

So much yelling.

And love. Ohhhh – SO.MUCH.LOVE.








My kids are homeschooled nerds – officially


AHHHGGGGG!!!! <—— that is a weird virtual scream of frustration-slash-relief-slash-excitement. Slash-skepticism, if i’m being totally honest.

So the guy I live with and I decided, for a slew of reasons, that we (ME) were going to homeschool our kids this year, and potentially for the next several years.  I did a butt-load of research, talked to other homeschoolers and chose a fancy schmancy  curriculum.  I actually put together a twice weekly program for them over the summer to kind of gauge their learning styles, where they might need some help, and where they were strong. It was a hodge-podge of workbooks, reading, internet and apps.  But mostly, this twice weekly gig was to see if I could handle it. Well, and if they could handle it.  We all did pretty good. I only lost my shit a few times. And they agreed that those stupid noises they make in protest when I ask them to do something aren’t worth messing up the sweet gig they have going of doing “dumb essays” in their pajamas.

Well, all plans always have a few bumps in the road. I traded my first choice curriculum for an option that the guy I live with and I thought would work better for our situation. After three weeks of utter frustration and paperwork and unanswered questions and waaaaaiiiiting  (not hearing back from them even after the “school year” had started) I finally decided that this “other choice” just wasn’t going to work. So I panicked. I had a mini nervous breakdown. I replayed the countless hours of research already put into finding good curriculum over and over again in my mind. I no longer had the money for the fancy schmancy stuff. I did a good 30 minutes of WTF AM I GONNA DO!!!!

And then I took a few breaths. I realized how capable I am and how smart my kid are. I put my big girl panties on, made another cup of coffee and formulated a plan.  Then I declared ” Field trip!!” and took the kids to a local thrift shop where I hit the motherload of homeschool crud.

It’s like it was meant to be. There, squished among some “… for Dummies” books where two sets of  homeschool history kits, both completely usable for the grades I needed. My spirits were immediately lifted. As I searched through more teaching aids and some archaic computer programming guides I found two Literature textbooks. I then found a teachers guide for science, another social studies textbook and a curriculum guide by grade. And if that wasn’t excellent enough, ALL the books were $2.99. Even better (as if it can get better)? Most of these books were like super popular curriculum.  I had zero remorse for buying 11 books.

Ok – for those of you still following this total snoozefest of information, let me just tell you that what I found at the local ARC saved my day, my week, my month, my next 6 weeks. Think: finding a 20 spot in your jeans on the 29th of the month, or money left on your Starbucks gift card or finding chocolate in the house everyone else forgot about. My point is this find was amazeballs. It was a sign from the universe that I was doing the right thing.

After lugging our treasure trove to the car, we jetted home and somehow I managed to find all the missing pieces to what we needed on the internet, either through Ebay or Amazon, to round out our first 6 weeks, and beyond. And I did it all under $200.  I am one stoked momma.

I’m sure, to most of you, this is like totally dull. I don’t expect anyone to understand the epic sense of accomplishment I have at turning a huge clustereff into a kickass success. But to get a taste, Google homeschool curriculum, and peruse the pages on pages of whatnot there is out there. Then check out some of the pricing. Then slowly sip your coffee and admire my skillz. Yes, with a “Z”.

There are several things I learned from this experience and they go like this:


Epiphany 1 – trust your gut. and your kids gut. – after a few years of the traditional route,  the system just wasn’t working for us anymore. I’m not saying its good or bad.  I’m saying my kids were struggling with things. It was time for a change.

Epiphany 2 – people home school for many MANY different reasons. Don’t  assume people have the same beliefs or issues as you do simply because they choose this style of schooling. Example? Don’t talk my ear off about lazy teachers. I know many and not any of them are lazy.

Epiphany 3 – telling people you are looking for secular curriculum will get you a few lectures and at least 1 less Facebook friend. Seriously people. MY preference isn’t a commentary on YOUR beliefs. Or mine for that matter. Calm down.

Epiphany 4 – I don’t have to justify my decision to anyone. Period. Unless it’s to prove some jag wrong. Then I’ll explain until I’m blue in the face.

Epiphany 5 – people have pretty strong opinions of homeschoolers. Be nice, non-homeschoolers. And the same goes for you homeschool moms who judge everyone else.

Epiphany 6 – It isn’t so bad, being with your kids allll daaaaay long. I’m pretty sure I’ll be running more. And drinking more.

Epiphany 7 – asking a stupid questions is never stupid. It took me quite a while to admit defeat and ask for help, and when I did I was surrounded by a community of moms in the know who were more than happy to help me out. And save me from a $80 wrong choice.

Epiphany 8  – I can do this. We can do this. We as in me and my family. Because it’s in our hearts. And because I took a trip to the thrift store instead of having a stroke. And also because I know you don’t spell “skillz” with a “z”.

But you do spell kickass with m-a-n-i-c-m-i-l-w-i-f-e!



Marketing to the youth


There is this commercial on right now that makes my blood boil. I’m sure you’ve seen it. It’s a McDonalds commercial about a dinosaur who eats Happy Meals to be healthy. I mean, of course she does.  What’s healthier than chicken nuggets, french fries and a juice box? Ohhhh… my bad, you went and churched it up with milk and (preservative laced) apple slices. Got it. And now all the kids will  grow up big and strong. Makes sense. You know what doesn’t make sense? Both my younger kids know the entire jingle. I was trying to find the ad on YouTube, to share with you, and I asked them about the commercial, and they both broke out into song. Inflection and all. We don’t even eat at McDonalds!  But that’s the genius of marketing! Add your commercial of lies in to the  daily gamut of kids programming, and SLAM DUNK! You get kiddos who sing a jingle, and just like propaganda pamphlets, your parents jump on the bandwagon and drive over to Mickie D’s for their new and improved and SUPER HEALTHY meals. Do not drink this Kool-aid people. Look, eat all the craptastic food you want; who am I to tell you what to eat?. But don’t teach your kids that this is what a nutritious meal is. The amount of nutrition in this meal is scarce, hence the jingle and the dinosaur. How many commercials do you see about watermelon during prime time? None? That’s because the watermelon doesn’t need anything fancy to sell itself. We all love it because it’s good and good for you. And it pisses my off that the marketing big wigs single out my kids to sell their poison. Shame on them.

Speaking of targeting my kids…let’s discuss the newest Kidz Bop. My first issue? Don’t teach kids how to misspell simple words. I get that the “Z” makes you cool and gives you street cred, especially with the toddler to 8 year old demographic, but isn’t proper grammar cooler? We’re raising children who think talking “ghetto” or “street” is normal. I’m not saying everyone should speak with a pretentious British accent, but normal, proper American English is the official language of this country. Sort of.

Aside from all that, my biggest beef is the song selection. Now, I get the songs have always been borderline inappropriate. Kidz Bop 10, has “where’d you go?” by Fort Minor. Kinda heavy content for a kids  re-do song, don’t you think? Sure, they change out the lyrics a bit , but the message remains the same. Kidz Bop 7 has “Lose my breath” by Destiny’s Child. Ummm, maybe I’m wrong, but all this time  I thought this song was about sex. Even if it’s not (it is) , it’s overtly sexual.

So anyways, I’m watching some Phineas and Ferb with the kids the other day, and low and behold  up pops a commercial for Kidz Bop 22. YAY! <— sarcasm. They go through the clips of each song. “Call Me Maybe”, Ok, totally acceptable. Catchy tune, and I let the kids blast this in the car. “Part of Me”… good message, kid friendly. Obligatory Beiber song, yuck, but it is a kids c.d. Hmmm, maybe I’ve misjudged you Kidz Bop. “Starships” comes on and I think,  aha! here’s the inappropriate song, but it is pretty cleaned up, even from the radio version. End of commercial is nearing and I’m almost into this collection of radio hits. And then I hear it,” Hey I heard you like the wild ones”… SCREECH. What? They found something more inappropriate than Nicki Manaj? Of course they did. Gross. This song is totally about hooking up. Ok, no it’s not, it’s about fucking. “… took you home it’d be a home run”. I’m not too sure what first base is anymore, but I’m pretty sure I an figure out what getting past all the bases means. And I don’t think my 8 year old should be singing about it. (Although, I totally dig this song.) They do remove most of that craziness out of the song, but they change it around to “I wanna dance in the club…”. Really? So, 10 year olds want to go clubbing with Flo Rida? When I was 10, I’m pretty sure I still played with Barbies.

Here’s another thought. Don’t these artists have to OK the use of their songs? I get it’s all about the Benjamin’s or whatever, but don’t they realize that the adult content of the song is a bit much? Granted, I believe the responsibility comes down to parents as to what they deem appropriate for their kids to watch/listen to/participate in, but I feel like at least one of these artists would have said, “you know, my songs aren’t for elementary school kids” and declined the request. Or, maybe these money hungry fools over at Kidz Bop HQ would have said the same about the song selection. Surely at least a few of those creeps have kids of their own. Do they really blast the collection on the way to soccer? And my last question, if this is legitimate, why don’t the run these commercial during prime-time when more parents (the ones with the money) are watching? I know the answer, just stating  one more thing that bothers me about marketing, consumerism, and parenting.

And while I’m on my bandwagon, all those day time TV infomercials for kids products can totally suck it. My kid doesn’t need a light up pillow pet. I already bought into the need for the regular pillow pet, can’t you just be satisfied with that? Now they are positive they can’t live without Slushy Magic or Foamfetti, and when my 8 year old saw they carry Fushigi at Target she went bananas!

If I have to hear one more time that I need, or should “totally get” the Trendy Top or Pajama Jeans, I’m gonna lose it. Thanks kids, I know you want mom to look nice, but I’ll just stick to Target and Old Navy for my cheap clothes.

I guess you can’t really blame the kids for falling into the trap. I mean, the commercials definitely make the crappy product look fun, exciting and durable. the announcer uses so much inflection and so many buzz words you can’t help but get caught up in the magic of the moment. Which is why they hock that crap to kids in the first place.

I guess my real issue is’t that they market it, but that they think we’re all naive enough to buy into it. It’s insulting, really. Sweet readers, don’t let the marketing man best you! It’s your dollar to spend as you see fit, but spend wisely. Show the marketing jerkoffs that we can’t be fooled by changed lyrics, tricked up fruit and flashy verbage. And let them know that our kids won’t break us with dumbed down language and plea’s of “needs”. Regardless of who they sling their crap ads at, WE are the real consumers. So tell my kid all day long that your latest gadget is awesome, or that dinos like processed food, but at the end of the day, I’m the parent and I take full responsibility for what my kids learn, what the buy, and what they need.

Although,  I kinda want some Silly Slippeez for myself. Those sharks are kick ass, but the monsters are pretty adorable, too. And it’s super cool how they use a “Z” in the word “slippeez”.

Pro ‘Mo


Who the shit cares if John Travolta is gay? Or Tom Cruise? Or  Ellen Paige? Or your next door neighbor? I mean really? Does a celebrities sexual preference effect your life? Does it increase gas prices? Does your property value decrease, or your home owners insurance go up if the person living across the drive way from you has a “life partner”? I’m sick to death of seeing this fodder all over the tabloids every time I check out at a store. I think it’s fantastic that some places cover up the  Mademoiselle mags if the cover model(or celebrity) is too seductively dressed or “orgasm” is in large print, buuuuuuuut slander and bias is totally OK for the kiddies to see.

But such is the world we live in, I guess,and it’s appaling. I just read this article on a kid in New York who wrote an article on “same gender” unions. Read the article to get the full story. I wasn’t as angered by the way things played out as I was by the comments left by Yahoo readers. Idiotic. Ignorant. Embarrassing. Look, if you don’t believe in equal rights for EVERYONE, then just un-friend me on Facebook, and DO NOT leave a comment. We will NEVER see eye to eye on this issue ever and I have a hard time respecting people who holds their “religious” beliefs and personal homophobic opinions over common sense and decency.

I didn’t have the most idyllic childhood, but something my parents unwittingly bestowed upon me was a good sense of right and wrong and a very liberal upbringing. And having a not-so-conservative life brings about many experiences that shape you. And one of those things that shaped me was my dad playing on a gay softball league.  His team was sponsored by a gay bar, Floyds.  As a youngster, I frequented this bar. I learned how to clog. I wore the team jersey. It never “turned me” gay. I went to most every game, spitting seeds in the dugout, or running around the park with the other children, most of whom had gay parents. It was never weird. I spent the night at a lesbian couples house, and no on ever tried to molest me, or indoctrinate me.  In fact, some of my most admired childhood role models were gay. And quite a few of my fondest childhood memories revolve around this group of people. And sadly, most of me teenage years were spent attending the funerals of these people I loved and admired. These people. People just like you and me, who loved other people but didn’t have the right to marry them, share insurance, share property as a united couple.

I was in elementary school before I realized that having gay friends was not the norm. I knew about periods and sex before I knew about homophobia.

So this brings me to the whole Gay Marriage thing. It’s time for people to STFU about this. For realz. EVERYONE has the right to love. EVERYONE should have the right to marry.

marriage, not gay marriage

This is a great big world and if one person can find another person to love them unconditionally then who are we to judge? Don’t even give me that “sanctity of marriage” bullshit either. My straight mother has been married three times. The same politicians, lobbyists and freak show bible thumpers spouting that garbage are the same people divorcing, having affairs and getting caught with hookers. I’ve also heard that it’s unnatural because gay marriage doesn’t produce children. So, to all the “regular” married folk out there who don’t or can’t have children, guess what? Your marriage is bogus and you should be ashamed of yourselves. Does society lump these people into the same sinners lot?

What if you’re kid tells you he/she is gay? Do you instantly stop loving them unconditionally? Do you forget that you carried them in your body, that they are a PART of you? Do you turn your back on loving them, because a book was interpreted to someone else’s meaning?

Look, I’m not bashing anyone’s religious standing. But if you use the bible as a way to fuel your own hate-filled agenda, then I think that’s cowardice. If you’re going to hate somebody you don’t even know have the guts to admit it. I’ll still think you’re a doucher, but at least you’ll have a clean conscience.  People already know what you’re up to anyway.

I think it’s ridiculous that as long as you’re not related, you can get a marriage license in Vegas in about 5  minutes, and it’s something EVERY STATE RECOGNIZES. You can marry the stripper who’s G-sting is full of your $1 bills or the drunk frat dude who was standing next to the slot that just paid out four hundred dollars in quarters, but if you’re gay, even if you find a state that accepts and performs gay marriage ceremonies, it’s not federally supported. So, you’ re spouse will not be covered by your insurance, and is not entitled to any spousal benefits.

This got me thinking about the Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell act being repealed. So, for years, men and women have fought for their country and for YOUR freedom even though their own rights were being stifled. You’re welcome. You can look up their “new”  and “fair” rights here. And then you can thank these brave men and women for not only their service, not only for silently obliging, but also for historically paving the way. And for anyone still against this, grow up, NO ONE wants to see your  wiener as much as you think.

And now, heading into  an election year, this topic is going to get heavier. Heres’s how we can solve it:

A marriage is a legally binding union or contract which allows person A to join material possessions with person B. See what I did there? If we use the word “person”, all is well.

For all of you that oppose the “universal healthcare law”, maybe you should support equal rights for same-sex unions and help alleviate the pressure of a large percentage of persons who can’t get healthcare coverage under their spouse. Because someone, somewhere didn’t separate church and state, and can’t see past the fact that every one needs and deserves human rights.

If you don’t believe in same-sex marriage , don’t have one. Why are YOU (the bigot) any more entitled to your rights than anyone else?

Give up the bullshit , it’s going to happen. Just like blacks earned a place in society and woman were allowed to show their knees and vote. Progression will always progress. We can all determine how quickly and how smoothly. Everyone looks good in rainbow.

Universal Rules for a 5th grade promotion


Does it make me an asshole mom that I think a 5th grade promotion is ridiculous? I get that it’s a big deal to move from elementary school into middle school. That’s a huge transition. But, does it need to be met with cap and gown photos, Pomp and Cirmcumstance and a procession line? And what about the “Sunday best” dress code?   Nothing points out the “haves” and the “have not’s” more than a situation in which you have to dress up. Do elementary kids really need to have that kind of pressure on them?  My fifth grader had  two “veledectorians” for crying out loud!

If this is going to be the norm can we set down some ground rules to make everything less awkward all around?

Parents, go out and buy your kid one nice outfit. Keep it fairly up to date and stylish, and check that it fits every three months or so. And I don’t mean the full skirted dress or the suit and tie you wear to church on Sunday. Come on, this is  5th grade. A button up and some khakis will suffice, and that will work for boys and girls. If you must put your darling princess in a dress, keep it age appropriate and simple. And for craps sake, flats will work just fine. I saw no less than 8 kids in some form of high heeled/platformed footwear. I also saw two girls wearing skirts with slits up to their boy-shorts.

Of course, when you scan the audience, you can see why the kids are dressed this way. Listen, if your shoes are made of any type of see through material (Lucite eff-me-pumps), probably a no-go for this type  of (or any)  event.

Tube tops. Enough said. Jr doesn’t want his friend high -fiveing him for having a MILF. High fives are for awards. Keep it classy. The same goes for your baby girl. She’s still a child, let her enjoy her youth. There will be plenty of opportunity’s in her twenty’s to make bad fashion choices.

Stained clothing. Come on, people, buy some Oxiclean Max Force. I’m not denying that most of my shirts have a mark in the boob region, or that all my yoga pants are free of greasy finger marks, but I don’t wear them to what is touted as being a “dressy occasion”. Show some respect for your kid and let your kid have some self respect. The amount of parents I saw that looked like they just rolled out of their cardboard lean-to was crazy. This isn’t a dig on poverty. If you can afford a cell phone, a flat brimmed hat or pack of smokes then you can afford to brush your hair, pull up your pants and find a clean shirt. And you sure as shit can do the same for your kid. I know Wallyworld has plain polos for like 5 bucks. Give your a kid a chance, man.

It’s not just the attire, either. It’s the behavior. We instill into these kids to not bully, be kind to their classmates, and to work out their issues. If you and baby daddy aren’t getting along this week, suck it up for your kid. Don’t sit next to each other and belittle each other through the presentation. You think your kid can’t hear you? Don’t try to beat each other to the front of the picture taking line. Can’t you just tag each other when you post that shiz on Facebook?

Or how about showing up? I think the whole thing is pretty silly, but I still put on clothes without stains, did my hair and bought my kids flowers. One little girl walked past us with her dad asking were mom was. His reply; ” she’s getting her hair done”. WHAT?!?! You took time off of work to go to the salon, but not to make it to your child’s promotion? I get that the hair appointment is a process. Mom was probably really pushing past  the 6 weeks mark , maybe her color was faded and her grays were starting to show. I’m sure her mop was overgrown and she was desperate. But you don’t ditch your kid, you reschedule. Period.

Now go out there are make your kids proud, moms and dads! If I’ve saved one kid from embarrassment, or high-water pants, I’ve done my job.  Mazel tov!