Just Breathe (If You Can)

I have decided I need to start wearing one of those electronic 911 alerting medical bracelets like my grandma does. This would not be necessary if I had a husband that offered some form of assistance when I am clearly choking on a lentil. Yep, you read that right. I almost D-I-E-D and Mike literally sat there watching me cough, tears streaming down my face, gasping for my final breaths. Finally, I exorcised the little fucker. “OHMIGOD MIKE! ARE YOU SERIOUSLY TRYING TO CASH IN ON ME YOU DOUCHE BAG?!” He sat there calmly eating his soup, “No, you were doing fine. I would have stepped in if you were unconscious.” “That is fucking noble of you.” My daughter then walked over after a commercial came on during her TV show and started slapping me on the back. “Ow, stop it! You know what? I am going to the mall where I know I am loved. My favorite sales guy at J. Crew would be totally distraught over my death.” Mike snorted, “Yeah, because he wouldn’t meet his sales goals every month.” Whatever.

Pussy Whipped

During Easter brunch at my house this year, my mom told us she had to go to the emergency room when she was nineteen years old for severe stomach pain. Apparently, a resident doctor came in to examine her and coldly informed her that she was in the final stages of gonorrhea and that she would never have children. My mortified mom called and informed “everyone” of her tragic diagnosis only to have her appendix burst two weeks later. Oops. Omg. I would have f’ing paid to see the faces of her hippie boyfriends when they got that phone call. Sooooo funny.

The Happiest Place on Earth

Last weekend, God once again ordered me to complete a three day community service stint at Disneyland as my penance for lighting fires and drowning kittens in a previous life. Apparently I was a real bitch before I reincarnated into Erin-1979. Fortunately, I have really turned things around in this life.

Family Jackpot

Eew, the grossest thing ever happened to me last week. I ordered five hundred U.S. dollars worth of clothes from Lands’ End because I go back to work full time at the dental office come August and Mike thinks periwinkle cardigans and monogrammed coral polos will inspire the masses to get their teeth cleaned. Following this violent assault on my eyes I drove myself to Lululemon and inhaled the delectable scent of overpriced yoga pants and chic tops made by crazy talented kids in Guatemala.

A Field Trip and A Mitochondrial Defect

I am like sooooooooooo over flu season. Ugh, it is a filthy world. Do not touch anything. Ever. I learned this the hard way a couple weeks ago when I got in trouble for touching a beaver. Apparently, I have been doing it incorrectly for thirty-three years. I was chaperoning a field trip to this hideously boring wildlife museum for my daughter’s class when one of the elderly, ex-prison warden volunteers pulled out a beaver fur for the kids to touch.

Mr. Whiskerpuss

It is Steve Jobs fault that I now own a cat. Last week I went into my daughter’s room and made the astute observation that her pet lizard, Pearl, had died. How did I know? Its face was pressed awkwardly against the aquarium and when I tapped on the side of it, the thing did not move. I looked at my watch. This pending psychological calamity was going to have to wait. School was starting in ten minutes, grieving over a dead lizard takes fifteen and I seriously needed a break after the theatrical production my family starred in last week titled, “A Family Catches the Stomach Flu and Their Mother/Wife Heroically Saves Them Even Though She Wanted to Run Away.”

U Mad Bro?

I don’t want to make you feel even worse about yourself if you are a shitty parent, but I fucking kill it as a mom. My daughters are cool chicks. I would probably hang around them even if I wasn’t forced to, except that would be like totally creepy. The other night I was packing their lunches, writing little love notes, thinking about how I was totally aligning them for a lifetime of guaranteed successful endeavors. Then God got kicked me in my vagina for pilfering his glory. The very next weekend my daughter drank water out of a hot tub. AT A HOTEL. My viral incubation calculations indicated the following week was now shot and I should just cancel my hair appointment and call the school right then since public hot tub water touches people’s balls and other unsavory areas. And like usual, I was totally right.

I Get By With A Little Help From My Friends

***Roller skates were first patented by Belgium inventor John Joseph Merlin in 1760. Three hundred and fifty years later people are still fucking themselves up because of this asshole. Last weekend, Mike and I took our daughters roller skating. My olfactory senses were immediately assaulted by the repugnant smell of pubescent pheromones and body odor. I took to the rink flanked by my eight year old and someone’s unsupervised toddler on crack. Memories of slow skating with my junior high boyfriend while listening to ‘Boyz 2 Men’ came flooding to me. My boyfriend with zits told me he “liked my bangs.” To his credit, he was rather astute as my bangs were magnificent. They were very tall and stiff and I spent forty-five minutes every day styling them. One day my mom had to take me to the doctor and he patted me on the head when we were leaving. My bangs did not like being touched by strangers and so they stabbed him. My doctor stared at me like I had a giant penis growing out of my forehead and told my mom to take m

Surprise!

I used to feel sorry for people with Celiac’s disease. Not anymore. I accidentally bought a bag of gluten-free ginger snaps and they are pretty much BOMB. Mmmmmm…Mmmmmmm….Mmmmmmmmmm. I am typing with one hand so I can keep eating. Anyway, Mike got home from Dallas on Saturday. While the girls were engrossed in a movie downstairs, I decided to give him a quick welcome home present…in the closet. We shimmied out of our clothes and started to get it on when all of a sudden I heard one of the kids. Mike whispered “Just be quiet, we can finish up.” Um yeah hi, I am on anti-anxiety medication. Sting could get off faster than me.

Happy New Year

Last Monday was the Justin Bieber concert in Denver. Holy.Pubescent.Pandemonium. My daughters were absolutely beside themselves, I was laughing hysterically watching them while Mike stayed on the phone with the suicide hotline. I have never been to a rave but I imagine this is what one would be like sans the acid and all the little kids. At one point Justin threw his dirty sweat towel into the crowd and the girl who caught it actually started sobbing hysterically….because she was happy. Wtf. That guy could throw his shit into the crowd and people would go insane. Actually, I think he should do that. I would like to see someone catching a shit.

Tis' the Season

A few weeks ago my photographer friend Jen from high school sent me a message on facebook asking if I would be interested in doing a “Boudoir” photo shoot. I responded with “Bummer, we just had our family photos taken!” Jen then informed me that “Boudoir Photographs” are sexy pics intended for your significant other. Oh gross. We totally did not take sexy family pictures. Christmas shopping for Mike has always been a wee bit challenging considering we have nothing in common. A couple years ago I was going to buy Mike a hairless cat named “Dermis” for Christmas after I discovered a set of pots and pans he thoughtfully purchased for me. I changed my mind however, when I found out that this particular breed of pussy needs to be bathed frequently. Ring Ring. “Hello…Hi Dad! …….Oh nothing much, just washing my smelly cat, she really needed it. Mike will not even play with her when she gets like this. Uh-huh, you are right I am a little busy….Okay. Talk to you later. Tell Kathy hi!”

I Choose to Love This World

Yesterday I woke to find numerous text messages on my phone regarding a close friend that was seriously ill and wondering if I could help. I jumped out of bed and threw on some shoes, asked if Mike could manage, kissed our children and ran out the door. I spent most of the day with my friend and was blissfully unaware of the tragedy that had occurred in Connecticut.

The World Is Ending. Yawn

I recently received an inquiry regarding my feelings on the world allegedly coming to an end later this month. Since I am always the last to know when the world is going to blow up I decided to educate myself on this matter. Annnnnd following my extensive five minute google search, I was horrified to learn we are indeed all going to die someday. Calm down I was being facetious, but you really are going to die. Anyhow, after contemplating the whole “doomsday” phenomenon, I ultimately decided that I really don’t give a shit. In fact, I was laughing my ass off when I was cleaning out my bird’s cage and saw that the cover of USA Today which depicted a picture of a man wearing a gas mask standing next to his wife and children. Apparently he had built a secret earth exploding/small pox proof hideout and stockpiled it with flour, sugar, rice, weapons, vaccines and dirty magazines in preparation for the upcoming catastrophe. If I was that dude’s wife, I would be counting down the seconds until the fucking world blew up. *

Conversations With Mike

Convo #1 Me: I can only assume your silence pertaining to this matter is your angled attempt to see if I accidentally forgot about Christmas this year. Shockingly, I didn’t. I am going to need you to bring Big Baby up from the basement and then go hang up the Christmas lights outside. Mike: (Pouring a glass of wine) I had a patient come in today who is a firefighter. Last year he fell off the ladder while hanging Christmas lights, broke both his legs and had to get stitches in his elbow. Me: You better be careful. That would suck.

I Steal Cable

You know how Mike has claimed that my Shih Tzu is the “stupidest dog on earth” well it turns out he was wrong, it is my Yorkie!!! HAHAHAHA FACE MIKE. Some dogs like antifreeze, my dogs like to play in the street and pretend they are deaf. We are not allowed to have fences in our neighborhood because that would prevent the HOA’s specially recruited traitor spy neighbor from peering into our yards to ensure that we are in adherence with the pine verses spruce tree rule #4,976,399,544 so we decided to purchase an invisible fence.

Leon Farmhouse

A couple months ago Mike and I went out to dinner with his associate and her ex-boyfriend turned “friend” that still visits her even though he is living with his girlfriend. I was leaning over the sink putting on mascara listening to Mike anxiously rattle on about how he had some questions for this guy. Me: Why do you care? (Watching him button his shirt up incorrectly) Mike: Because at some point (Eye Candi) and I will be partners and I want to make sure she is in a stable situation.

Pumpkins, Politics and ADD

Recently my doctor friend told me I probably had ADD and that I would probably love adderall. My brain instantly began sorting through data until I landed on adderall. Aaaaahhhh yes, I saw a Dateline special about this drug…….teenagers stealing it, soccer-moms getting addicted and selling their children for it. I told him I would think about it but considering I have made it thirty-three years without becoming addicted to anything other than sex it seems sort of pointless. I informed my friends of my suspected diagnosis and they were like “Annnnnnd this is a surprise to you?” Thanks for telling me assholes. I will be sure to ask you if I ever have a suspicious mole. My sister said “I don’t think you have ADD but you should totally take the medicine. You could have your book written by Friday. I took half of adderall in college and wrote two eighteen page essays in one night without a single error.” Anyway, because I relying on the assumption that I now have ADD I am going be discussing a menagerie of topics in

DaveSays

Hi Baby Loves. This week my dad wrote for me because he owes me for his partial contribution to my existence. He is a Buddist ninja that is really easy to make laugh. His mentionable extracurricular activities include public speaking, writing, building water features and meditating for long periods of time usually over Christmas so he does not have to buy anyone anything. He has a fake hip, a cool young wife and two cats. In his spare time he likes to take play the piano, plant corn in his front yard and put up Christmas lights. Let’s give a round of applause to Dave.....

One Hot Night With Grandma

Last Thursday was the big trip to Las Vegas with Grandma. My aunt made all the travel arrangements since I have a tendency to book flights based on reputable airlines and their convenient departure times because I deplore the disruption of my circadian rhythm. My aunt however, found a smoking deal on some airline I had never heard of. I decided it would be in my best interest to refrain from googling their fiery crash verses successful landing statistics prior to takeoff. My optimism prevailing, I went ahead and spray tanned because Grandma is hot and I did not want her hogging all the attention in Vegas. I packed a suitcase of hand sanitizer and penicillin and went to pick up my aunt the next morning.

Earn My Vote

I do not kill bugs or spiders. In fact, there is a little spider currently residing in my office and I am just going to let her stay for the winter. She is black with a pretty red dot on her stomach. Just kidding. She is not one of those feminist man-hating bitch kinds. Last summer my niece discovered a live mouse in our window well so I climbed down with a bucket to catch it but started screaming hysterically when the thing kept running over my feet. My sister was like “Oh My God. You are such a pussy Erin, I will get it” so she climbed down there with me so we could shriek together because the mouse did not trust our motives based on the stories passed down by its rodent ancestors of traps with sticky bottoms and poisoned cheese etc. etc. and so it tried to clamber up our legs while our kids watched from the other side of the window laughing.