Hungry For Vomit

I think I've established the fact that I am nasty.
My personal habits are nasty.
My thoughts are nasty.
My friends are nasty.
My extended family is nasty.
My kids are nasty.
My whole life is nasty.

A recent incident has taken my life's nastiness to an entirely new level.

When Ryan was a baby and I switched his car seat to face forward, he would get car sick.
For an entire summer, anytime I drove longer than 30 minutes in the car, he would barf curdled milk everywhere.
I was working for the Boys and Girls Club summer program and we had field trips every Friday usually in Los Angeles. I drove my own car so I wouldn't have to sit on the bus for an hour with screaming kids and this one super annoying staff member Cynthia. She was the worst.

Anyway, every Friday Cryin' Ryan would end up puking, I would pull over, spend 30 minutes cleaning it up, change him into new clothes, and show up at the destination with my boss asking why Ryan smelt like rotting protein.

It was awful.
That curdled milk baby throw-up smells amazingly bad.

Fast forward to a couple weeks ago. I switch Tyler's car seat around and now he starts puking too. My psyche had barely healed from all Ryan's barf 3 years ago.

Tyler's car sickness threshold is low and he's been puking almost every time we drive anywhere. It's so frequent that I don't even pull over anymore. When he vomits, I just hand him some wipes and he tries to clean it up himself. He doesn't cry and it doesn't seem to bother him much.

My car permanently stinks like 1,000 rotting squirrel carcasses.

Then one day, T-bag started eating it.

This is so nasty, I don't even know what to say. Look at how happy he is.

Except it was polite that he offered some to Ryan, and Ryan graciously declined. #Proudparent

P.S. Don't get all judgy that I may or may not have been recording a video while driving my car. We were in my neighborhood with no cars/people around and I was going slow. Plus I haven't gotten in a car wreck for like 5 years, so settle down.


Peach Hater

I am in the midst of an OCD crisis.
My backyard is covered with rotten, smashed peaches.
It's foul. 

The previous owners of our house thought it would be a great idea to plant two overzealous peach trees on our ledge.
But guess what... It wasn't a great idea.

I don't can food even though it's a sin here in Utah. I'm too disinterested in spending an entire day in the kitchen. And canned peaches at the store are only like $2.

My little family can't eat that many peaches, and neither can our neighbors, extended family, and random people on the street I give them to.

They are organic and rot faster. Plus I am not going to poison my family by letting them eat organic free-range peaches.

In California we had 3 mature avocado trees. I didn't mind them at all because Jared would eat 5 a day. And friends were more than happy to take extras off our hands.

We had so many peaches that a ton of them fell off the tree and all over our cement.
Ryan stomped on all of them, to make sure they were extra hard to clean up.

The ones he didn't destroy lured the neighborhood deer clan to our backyard.

I let the deer eat their hearts out.... until I realized they would spit the slimy peach pits out and they would stick to everything. I had to hack each pit off the cement with an ice pick.

My neighbors are probably a little concerned when they saw some chick in her ugly pajamas beating the ground with a weapon. I'm sure I had an angry serial killer-esque grin on my face. I bet they locked their doors that night.

These stupid peaches have been my enemy this summer. My life is so hard :(

I'm going to cut those entitled trees down, plant evergreens, and see how those peach trees like it.
I have never hated a fruit so bad in my life.

It's going be a while before I recover and learn to love again.


Meat Seller

Herriman, Utah is infested with door to door salesmen.
It's a nice city with a ton of new, beautiful houses so they think they are going to hit the jackpot here.

A lot Mormon boys go on a two year mission when they turn 18 year old. In a sense, they spend those 2 years selling religion door to door, so when they are tasked with selling lawn care or window washing it is no big deal.

They are used to people answering the door in pajamas and annoyed, and having doors slammed in their faces,
Mormon missionaries are masters of hard work and brushing things off. That is why a ton of them take awful sales jobs when they return.

This summer there were days when 3-4 salesmen would ring my doorbell. Seriously.

I get super pissed off because I have to hurry and put on a bra before I answer the door.

I hate being bothered. And I hate answering the door to strangers when I'm home alone with the kids. Ever heard of the BTK killer? Google it.
But if something crazy ever happened I would 2nd amendment them so bad.

I never buy anything from these guys because I am too cheap and I do everything myself.

I understand these jerk-offs are just doing their jobs but screw them. I'm basically polite to them but I especially hate it when they try to use dumb sales tactics after I already told them no.

I had to hang a mean sign to get some peace and quiet.

The day after I hung my mean sign, my doorbell rang!!!!!!

I peeked out the window and saw a large 40-something year old man. He looked beat up.
Husband was home but there was no way I was opening the door, so I cracked the window. He was standing super close to the door and then moved right next to the window after I opened it.

He says: Do you enjoy delicious red meats?
I'm selling some of the freshest meat you will ever taste.

I was thinking, human meat?

He was parked in our driveway. He had a white rapist van with no windows. It had Texas license plates. creepy.

Who parks in a driveway if you are selling door to door? Rapists, that's who.
Normal people park at the end of the street and just walk to each house.

I did not want anything to do with this dude or his delicious meats.

I went and got Jared so Creepy Meat-Man would know my husband was home. When Jared went to the door, Meat-Man hurried and backed away from the porch.

Husband denied the fresh meat also and the dude left quickly. I didn't see him go to any of the other houses on my street.

I also noticed my no soliciting sign was missing, like he tore it off.

I may be a little paranoid but that is amazingly creepy, right?

Never open your door to scary men. 


Lying Can Be Fun!

I recently realized I am a dirty little liar.
I felt bad for a solid 8 seconds. Then I lied to myself and brushed the guilt aside.

I lie all the time.

Yesterday someone from my church asked if I could cook dinner for another family today.
I lied and said "yes!"
But honestly, I have NO intention of cooking anything. I fully plan on going to Costco and buying some pre-cooked food and passing it off as my own.

I recently lied to the dentist when he asked me if I flossed everyday. My mouth said "yes", but my gums said "no."

Lying has become a pretty useful tool in my daily life, see below!

Lies I tell myself:

1. Tomorrow I'm totally going to wake up early and exercise.
2. My bathroom habits are completely normal.
3. I'm for sure going to answer phone calls, text messages, and email in a timely manner.
4. These skinny jeans look amazing and I for sure don't have muffin top or sausage legs.
5. Laundry is fun!
6. I going to cook dinner tomorrow!
7. I will stop saying bad words in front of the kids.
8. I will also stop laughing when my kids repeat the bad words.
9. I am going to bed at an appropriate time and will not stay up reading like a rabid dog.
10. This is the LAST pimple I am ever going to pop.

Lies I tell my kids:

1. Sorry, They don't make replacement batteries for your extremely obnoxious toy.
2. The park is closed.
3. McDonald's is closed.
4. Everything is closed.
5. If you cry in a store the police will put you in jail. 
6. I'll cook you dinner tomorrow!
7. You forgot to bring your own money? I guess there's no way we can buy more legos :(
8. If you say the swear words I taught you at church, Jesus will cry.
9. You are my favorite offspring.
10. Daddy is just giving Mommy a massage.

Lies I tell my husband:

1. Of course I showered!
2. The kids FOR SURE did not watch too much TV today.
3.  I did not spend all day in my pajamas while you were out of town.
4. I'll still love you if you go bald.
5. I am wearing stretch pants and tennis shoes because I totally worked out today.
6. This dress is not new! I've had it forever!
7. Everything I buy at Sephora is an absolute necessity.
8. I LOVE when you spend your days off in your workshop! I don't need a break from the kids!
9. Of course it doesn't bug me when you snore!
10. Sorry, not tonight. I have a headache.



Best Blog Ever

I randomly found the best blog ever.

Unfortunately there are only 4 entries and the last post was in 2011.
It is a shame the author wasn't more ambitious. This would have made the world a funnier place.

I wish she had her email address availible so I could petition her to continue.

Check the amazing-ness out and make sure to read the milk one:


Best blog ever, right?


Hate Eating

Cryin Ryan is the WORST eater ever.
I'll go ahead and attribute that to my sub-par parenting skills.

I'm a crappy cook by choice.
I hate cooking and I follow a 80/20 diet. 80% candy and 20% cereal.
So when Ryan wanted Reese's Pieces for breakfast, guess what, I put some in a bowl with a spoon and patted myself on the back. 

Jared is the cook in our house. (I know, I have a hot husband that cooks for me, but he also spends too much money at Home Depot so don't be that jealous.)
The last couple of years he has been somewhat of a short-order cook for Ryan..... which is exactly what you are not supposed to do.

Our biggest problem is he refuses to TRY things. I beg for him to eat just one bite to see if he likes it or not.
He didn't want to try spaghetti last week so he went to bed without dinner. He woke up in the morning pale and sad. He promptly vomited everywhere. I quickly gave him some toast so no one would call child protective services on me.

We've tried everything to get him to eat more foods.
Positive reinforcement, negative reinforcement, bribes, threats, tricks, and even this crap:

Finally I told him he can't ever play with friends ever again in his whole life if he didn't try some damn macaroni and cheese. I had just spent a solid 15 minutes making it and I was not messing around.

He angrily ate 2 noodles.

I considered that a win. He got down from his chair and stomped away. He was pissed.

A few minutes later he came back and did this to me:

He made up his own sign language to tell me he hates me.

Real cute, Ryan. Real cute.



I worked with kids a lot before I had my own. I knew how annoying they could be. I knew they asked "Why?" all the time. But I also knew that my children would be awesome and never annoy me.

I promised myself and my future kids that I would always answer that question.
I wanted to foster my child's curiosity. Explain everything I could, which isn't much, but still.

I was going to be the most patient mom ever, in the entire universe.

As soon as Ryan could talk he began Why-ing? me.

  • Why can't I play with my gum on the carpet?
  • Why can't you just clean it up when I'm done?

  •  Why are our volcanoes so crappy?

  • Why is that girl showing everyone her boobs?

  • Why did *John's mom get surgery on her boobs?
  • *names have been changed to protect the surgically enhanced.
  • Why do we have to keep baby Tyler?

  • Why can't I live with Jackson and Aiden?

  • Why do cars have windows?

  • Why do spiders spin webs?

  • Why do you think I'm annoying?

And so on.

I valiantly answered each one of his questions once he started asking me.

Now I'm FREAKING OUT! It's soooo obnoxious. He harasses me all day long.
What should I do? Do other mom's seriously answer these questions all the time? Should I get a restraining order?

My current plan of action is whenever he asks "Why?" and I don't feel like answering, I just say "yes."

Why do monkeys show their privates? Yes.
Why can't I ride my bike in the street? Yes.
Why do I have to go to bed when it's light outside? Yes.
Why do you say I cry too much? Yes.

So far he is not happy about my new tactics.