Let them eat cake


After a long hiatus from drawing anything, I pulled this cake design out of my ass and impressed all the kids.

Granted, it’s no sculptural, fondant covered, food network worthy cake.  It tastes great and is homemade by a mom for her kid.  That’s what kid birthdays are about.  Moms making it cool and special. 

Plus I make a damn good frosting. 

It’s been nearly two weeks since I made it…and I have to make another fancy cake for this weekend for lovely #2.  My spring babies.  Why does it break my heart that they are getting so big?  9 and 6?  How can this be?  They should still be snuggly and innocent…

I used to get to make whatever cake design I wanted.  Now I’m a slave to Sonic and Mario and the Frozen girls.   

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Posted by on April 8, 2014 in Humor, ideas, playing


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Still hate the dentist…

So I’m here with my tiny little 5 year old baby at the mother fucking dentist. 

Those of you who know how this brain works, know that my blood pressure sky rockets when I drive past this place, let alone being inside an office watching this awful process happen on my tiniest little precious lovely #2. 

I want to bash their faces in.  I want to pull the sharp silver daggers out of their hands and drive them into their eyeballs.  I want to smash the stupid, calming, lava lamp into the awful flower paintings on the wall. 

I can’t look. My eyes well up a little. 

But just like that, it’s over…and she’s fine…and I can breathe again.  My cold, clammy hands can allow blood back in.  Thankfully I didn’t have to flip over tables and break windows.

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Posted by on March 13, 2014 in Anger, Humor, writing


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There’s something about a giant beer at the circus. 

It made me feel a little better after seeing the four people protesting animal cruelty outside the show. 

The animal acts just made me a little sad after that.  Anyone know more about this?  I feel like such amazing and majestic animals should be treated like gold yet in my gut I know they probably live in trailers and never roll in the grass. 

The circus was full of sugar and salt and beer and fun but I think it’s time to do a little research…



Posted by on March 11, 2014 in Anger, ideas


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Young or old??


Today I am 32 years and 364 days…which means that, yes, tomorrow is my birthday.

It means I’ll be 12 years past doing 21 shots and 15 years past buying cigarettes and voting. 

17 years past 16. 

I’m only 7 years away from being over the hill but I’m only about halfway to retirement…or death. 

I’m one month away from having a fucking 9 year old, brilliant, hilarious,  pre-pubescent lady.  And 6 weeks away from also having my youngest kid turn 6.  6!  For fuck’s sake!

Thankfully, I’m 15 minutes into this glass of wine…

If we were rhyming and we said that 32 is all about you..or 32 and feeling blue…

…then 33 is all about me! 

…or 33, poop and pee.


Posted by on February 19, 2014 in Humor, ideas, playing, writing


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On love…

Oh love. Sometimes I feel like I’ve got it all figured out and other times it bitch slaps me across the face. Valentine’s day….it doesn’t really make me love anything or anyone any more. It’s just cute and kitschy, really. But I do love a good heart shaped pizza. And I do love a big piece of ice cream cake…man, that fudge layer and chocolate crunchy things are to die for. I also love being in my geriatric bed at 9 pm watching whatever romantic comedy they decide to play on fx or usa. I love the people that hate Valentine’s day too…like it’s out to get them. It can’t really hurt you unless you give it a knife to stab in your heart…. I love the day after Valentine’s day…because things go back to normal and all the cute Valentine’s day garb at target goes on sale. Hell yeah I want those cute ass plates for 70% off!

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Posted by on February 15, 2014 in Humor, ideas, playing


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I am not athletic.

The lovelies and I caught a few ice skating performances on the Olympics last night. 

I remember being young and watching in awe…gawking at the girls in sparkly outfits spinning and hurtling themselves through the chilly air.  I always wondered how they got those nude colored leggings around their skates without tearing holes in them. 

There was a woman who skated to Pink Floyd last night.  Shine on you crazy diamond. 

I began to think of all the great songs I would skate to if I were talented and not a weak ankled, fat knee’d, awkward faced, cynical mom with unachievable, athletic, childhood dreams. 

Of course, you know me, and I would have to skate to Eddie.  I noticed everyone tries to skate to beautiful and moving pieces of music.  I would have to make a medley of Pearl Jam.   A little Chris Cornell and Soundgarden action could be great too. 

Maybe Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch? Color Me Badd??  Vanilla Ice???  Salt n Peppa?  Matchbox 20??  Stone Temple Pilots?  Nirvana???

Grunge is like poetry, arguably, and so is ice skating, I guess. 

I could wear a signature Cobain cardigan.  I could have a pair of Doc Marten ice skates fashioned as well.

I wouldn’t smile.  I would keep an air of angst and dirt and just enough self doubt.  I might even flip people off but I would school some fucking ice skating haters.  I would be so good on those triple axles and so visually and musically ironic, no one could handle it. 

I would be the best role model for young girls.  My own kids would roll their eyes and say, ugh mom, not Pearl Jam again. 

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Posted by on February 9, 2014 in 90, Humor, ideas, playing


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I was a home birth…in the a couple of hippies.  There was a midwife there.  They tell me the weather was foggy. 

But what on earth do you do with the placenta?? 

Did they burn it?  Or bury it??  Or cure it with salt and make placenta bacon?  Placenta breakfast hash??  Or perhaps they turned it into a sausage patty and served it on polenta? 

Polenta placenta?

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Posted by on February 8, 2014 in Humor, ideas, playing


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