ASSHATS!

Confession: This post has nothing to do with asses, hats, or anyone or anything that could be construed as asshattery. I just felt the need to get your attention.

Now that I have it, I want to take a minute to thank everyone so very much for their support in The First Annual Thank, Q for Bloggers Tournament! I've made it through the first 2 rounds! Here I sit, on the cusp of greatness- prepared to join the ranks of Yeats and Byron- as they too so desperately coveted the votes of their peers in blog wars. Or something like that.

So seriously, bottom line- It's down to 4 and I am going up against Colorful Rants of a Fed Up Sista this time around. And it's scary. 'Cause the girl does not play. She can write. And she has balls. Big balls. I love that. If she wasn't going up against me, I'd probably vote for her. But wait, you're here, on my blog, and I love that about you. And if you're here, you're probably a fan, follower, or first time visitor to Mommy Confessions. Whatever the case, we would love- as in big, wet, sloppy kisses- kind of love, for you to vote for us in the Fave Four! That would be awesome with a capital let's-get-this-shit-done!

As a judge here's what you need to do:

Check out both the posts going head to head and vote for mine your favorite. It's one click. It takes less time then it takes to wipe your ass. No seriously. I timed it.

Anyway, you can go right here, where Q has all the rules, links to both posts, etc. I'm using my much loved 7th night of Chanukah post. You know, the one where I fear my marriage and life as I know it is over because I, in a fit of blind rage, threw a chair through the window in front of all of my kids. Yeah, that one. Oh to recount those good times, again and again and again.

So, wish me luck. Hopefully I emerge victorious. Or at the very least, I hope I don't come out looking like too much of an asshat.

Throwdown Part Deux: The Return of Mommy

Confession: I want to win.

Apparently, if you want to get ahead in the blogosphere, you are not allowed to sleep- at all.

When I went to bed at 3 in the morning-- yes-- 3 in the morning, I had just checked out the standings in the blog tournament I was participating in. If you aren't yet familiar, check it out here. I submitted my post choice for round 2 and drifted off to dreamland figuring I'd wake up this morning and send the word out that I had moved on. Then I got a text from my sister at SEVEN a.m. telling me that the next round posts were up and I was losing! Holy hell! So Q, while I totally appreciate your efficiency, I should tell you that sleep is good. You should totally try it some time. I find it works best between the hours of 3 and 7 a.m. when most unsuspecting bloggers are still ASLEEP! K?

Anyway...thanks to every one of my blog readers, Facebook fans and friends, and Twitter peeps who helped me advance- yes advance to the next round of The First Annual Thank Q for Bloggers Tournament. My worthy competitor, The Reckmonster, put up a heck of a fight. Gracias! And I am now following her blog. It's funny. It's kind of raunchy. Hey, it's kind of like mine, but without all the baby poop and stuff. Go see her. You won't be sorry.

But... enough about that. I'm in. I'm moving on. I'm in it to win it. And I am calling on you. Whether you voted in the last round, or this is all news to you (where have you been all week?), I need you now. Please head on over here- yes that's here- yep right here- and V-O-T-E- for me!

My competitor in this round, The Ranter's Box, is pretty darn good as well. And I need every one of my awesome readers to do this for me. Pleeeeeease.

It takes one second. No really, one. Click the link. Find my blog name in the right sidebar. Vote. That is it. Really. Swear. Cross my heart. No spam. No sign up. No nothing, anymore, ever.

If I win the whole thing, maybe I'll have a big blog party! That'd be fun, right?

So... Go. Shoo. Vote. Pretty please. You have my undying love and appreciation. Even though you had that already.

Throwdown!

Confession: Apparently, I'm competitive. Who knew?

I usually save this type of stuff for Facebook and Twitter, but with one day left and my competitive streak rearing it's ugly head, I figured I would throw it up on the blog as well. I mean after all, it is my blog, right?

Over at a friends blog, I am competing in a head to head blog off- ala March Madness. In order to advance to the next round, I need your vote! Please take a second to vote if you are so inclined. You have 24 hours. No signing up. No logging in. No spam. Nothing. One click. One second. That's all. Promise. Have I ever steered you wrong? Don't answer that.

Last call for voters! Please vote for Mommy Confessions!! Go ahead. You're already reading this. One click. One second. No commitment. No sign-up. No spam. Promise. Will gladly return the favor some time. Thank you.http://bit.ly/dQHT9g

Thank, Q for Common Sense!: The Reckmonster v. Mommy Confessions

The Silly Mom

Confession: I want to be the coolest mom on the block.

A fit of giggles erupts from our dinner table. "My mom would never do that", I hear from a recent guest of my oldest child (age 9). "Yeah, that's my mom." We were having dinner, and the girls had just spontaneously burst out in song at the table. When they'd stumbled on one of the lines (the song escapes me at the moment), I was happy to chime in and finish the lyric in my loudest and most outlandish singing voice. While my daughter gave the "yes, I know my mom is nuts" look, our guest laughed and told my daughter that her mom would never spontaneously burst out in song at the dinner table, or anywhere else for that matter. My daughter was probably thinking, "lucky you", but I was thinking, "mission accomplished."

You see, while I pride myself on being a responsible parent and excellent caretaker of my three offspring, I also pride myself on being a hands-on, happy, fun, parent. I like being silly. I like dancing around the house to the current faves of my brood (even if I think what passes for music these days is pathetic). I don't mind singing along with the Taylor Swift song blaring from the girl's room. I was totally excited that two of the stars of iCarly had made a movie for Nickolodeon, and couldn't wait to watch Best Player for myself. And I have no problem sitting down and getting silly along with the latest game my kids come home from the schoolyard with. I mean really, how long ago was it that I was shouting out and clapping along to Miss Mary Mac myself? Okay, it was yesterday. So what? This is how I was before I was a parent, and honestly, it's the one thing that hasn't changed much about me since becoming a mom.

I am lucky enough that my kids still want to spend time with me. They still want to play games with me. And they still beg me not to leave when I have to go somewhere that does not involve them (one of the reasons you don't see me out very much). With my oldest nearing the drop-me-off-around-the-corner- embarrassment stage, I know that the stretches of time where she will want to play with me are soon to grow fewer and farther between. The other two will soon follow suit. And, as they get older, we're having more and more kids in and out of the house. We're at the age of sleepovers and constant requests for so and so to come over and "hang out". Hanging out by the way, is what takes the place of "play dates" around age 7. As she gets older, I know my antics will become less funny, and more OMG MOM! So, it would be foolish of me to squander this time; this time where I can "embarrass" them in the best possible way. In a way that they will, when they are much, much older and have kids of their own, recall in tales to their own children. It's my legacy. I'm the silly mom.

As I type this, my 6 and 9 year old daughter's are singing Tick-Tock by Kesha. And as much as I want to stop them, freeze them in time, and maybe not let them be influenced by such age inappropriate lyrics as, "before I leave I brush my teeth with a bottle of Jack...", I can't help but sing along. Hey, it's not Mary Had a Little Lamb anymore, but I'll take what I can get. And it's not all that bad of a song.

Go Mommy, It's Your Birthday!

Confession: Busy moms forget stuff. If we're lucky, it's nothing too important.

It's been a while since I've forgotten anything major. You know, stuff like leaving the baby in the car with the keys inside, sending the kids to school with no lunch, missing scheduled meetings, all that fun stuff. After almost 10 years, I seem to finally have a handle on this motherhood thing. I seem to be navigating the complex highway of parenthood with relative ease. Okay, maybe ease is the wrong word. Let's just say that all of my kids are alive, dressed, fed, and seemingly happy. Total win, right? I know.

With the whole mother of 3 thing comes massive responsibilities. I take them very seriously. This is why sometimes, I am so focused on the kids, their activities, their needs, that other stuff seems to just fall by the wayside. Notice how the blog lacks a certain something (it's called content) at the kids busiest times of year? Still, this blog has been a sounding board for me, a place to vent, a means of creating a social network, and a springboard to other opportunities. So, I'd be remiss if I didn't say that it is super important to me. It's my 4th baby. It's a piece of me.

Yesterday was my "Blogaversary". The day in which we bloggers celebrate our union with the content that we write, the extra child that we've adopted. I, in the style of days gone by, forgot the special day of my 4th baby, this blog. It was 4 years ago yesterday that this blog was born. Out of a combination of fatigue, uncertainty, and a desire to be heard. It's 4 years later and I have made friends and colleagues, read work by some of the most amazing women I know, had a few trolls, and exposed some of the most embarrassing and personal moments of my life. It has been a roller coaster. It has been a whirlwind. It has been a life lesson. With new things on the horizon, I don't exactly know what the future of this blog holds, but I will continue to write, to confess my foibles and faults, for as long as I can.

Happy Blogaversary to Mommy Confessions. And thank you from the very bottom of my heart to every single person who has ever taken a minute out of their day to read it's words. Thank you to every person who has commented on the posts written here. Thank you to every person who has sent me emails and messages telling me that my posts made them laugh, or cry, or write something of their own. It is truly the greatest compliment I can possibly receive outside of being a good mom. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. A million times thank you. I could not, I would not, go on without you.

10 Things We Hate About You

Confession: Sometimes there are just some people that make you feel lousy, rub you the wrong way, irritate you, etc. Rarely are you able to tell them this. I'm here to help.

I was up late last night and one of my favorite guilty pleasure movies came on. The Heath Ledger/Julia Stiles film '10 Things I Hate About You' (Shut up. That's quality film making right there). It inspired me to create a list by the same name.

I give you, 10 Things We Hate About You. Yes YOU! And by you, I mean the whole stinkin' lot of you. You know who you are.

1. We hate it when you offer unsolicited advice on our parenting skills. If we need help, believe me, we'll ask.

2. We hate it when you look at us like we just rolled out of bed. This IS dressed. We have kids!

3. We hate it when you drone on and on about the awesomeness of your child and all of their accomplishments. It's great that little Johnny can read at 18 months old. I'm happy to hear about it- once.

4. We hate when we say that we are bloggers, you give us the- it must be nice to do nothing all day look and eyeroll combo.

5. We hate when you give us dirty looks for breastfeeding in public. We never asked any of you to eat your dinner in a bathroom stall.

6. We hate when you tell us, without saying a word, that we are bad parents because we work.

7. We hate when you tell us, without saying a word, that we are bad parents because we don't work.

8. We are happy that your kid takes piano lessons, goes to scouts, and volunteers to work with sick, underprivileged puppies after school, But we hate hearing that our children have to do the same. It doesn't make you better, just busier.

9. We hate hearing that you got your 8 year old a cell phone, a new laptop, and a flat screen t.v. for their room for their birthday. We're not impressed. Frankly, we think you're nuts. And good luck to the poor suckers who actually have to please your kids in the future.

10. We hate the fact that to be in your presence, we have to put on some kind of mommy facade. We're sick of it. We want the mommy wars, the I'm better than you, the my-way-is-the-right-way bullshit, to stop.

So now you're wondering if I'm talking about you, aren't you? Keep wondering. Or, if you do these things, take this as some free advice. Stop it. It's really fucking annoying.