Ahh, it’s that time of year again. The lights! The food! The parties! The inappropriate board games! The passive-aggression! Read on for a list of things we have overheard at holiday parties so far this year.
Yes, the internet is full of tips and advice for what NOT to say to a new Mom. Don’t give your advice on decisions she’s already thoughtfully made. Don’t tell her you once knew a girl in high school that was a total B that has the same name as her brand new perfect little baby. And of course say NOTHING about her appearance – except that she looks beautiful.
And yes, despite all those warnings, I have one more for you: Continue reading “Yet ANOTHER Thing You Shouldn’t Say to a New Mom”
So it’s no news to you that I love Chick Fil A. And, since I consider myself a feminist, I was even more eager to support the new Chick Fil A location when I found out it was owned and operated by a woman. And by support the new location, I mean go there alllllll the time (I mean, it is free after all). I go there so much that the staff now recognizes me, even said lady-owner-operator. My daughter calls her by name, and even talks about her outside of the restaurant.
So when she asked me if Ms. K liked working at Chick Fil A, I just HAD to point out that she was the owner. “She owns the whole place, Lila. She’s the boss. The #GirlBoss!” (I mean, I didn’t SAY the hashtag part out loud, but better believe I thought it.)
And my daughter gave me maybe the biggest eye roll I’ve ever seen. Continue reading “#GirlBoss”
You’ve walked by it a hundred times. And if you’ve walked by with your kids, no doubt you’ve had to fend off cries of, “Please mama, PLEASE buy me the giant bear we absolutely do not have any room for in our house!” (Or at least that’s what you hear). You see it and think “Holy God, that one stuffed animal is bigger than most of the stuffed animals in our house put together!”
And it is.
And if you’re me? One day, your well-intentioned husband, who feels moderately guilty about the extra long hours he’s been putting in at the office does the unthinkable and says, “Yes kids, we WILL buy you that giant bear.” Before you can pick your chin up off the floor, it’s been hoisted into your cart and you know from the sparkles shining out of your children’s eyes that this cannot be undone.
You live with this bear now.
You walk through Costco trying to be happy about the new member of your family. I mean, sure, its larger than you are, but you don’t have to feed it and it doesn’t poop. So really, it could be worse! Right?? On the other hand, you need to cram it in your car somehow…so that’s gonna be fun. Still in shock, you take pictures of the kids grinning from ear to ear, because when they forget about this bear in 3 hours you’re going to want to remember how happy it made them for 17 minutes. Then, you send the pictures to your Mom/sister/bestie – basically anyone that will feel sorry for you and commiserate.
They all do. Because YOU OWN A GIANT BEAR NOW. And even if your husband doesn’t get it – your people do.
You move the bear into your house and find him a room (because he’s that big). The kids try to show you that he was worth every penny by playing with him for a little bit. You start to warm to the big guy, now affectionately known as Tootles by the way, but remember that he is the enemy. Because you need a scapegoat and it’s better than thinking your husband is the enemy.
One day goes by, and then another. And then a strange thing happens. The kids keep.playing.with.Tootles. They lay on him when they watch TV. They feed him food they made in their kitchen. They ADORABLY ask you to take “family photos” with him. And wouldn’t you know it – those kids play with that bear EVERY. SINGLE. DAY.
Maybe their dad is paying them in candy to prove me wrong. Maybe they remember that I grumbled through Costco that “they better freaking play with this bear or it’s going in the alley.” Or maybe, they just really do love it. And it makes them happy. And it teaches me that I need to lighten up and say “yes” once in a while. And that maybe that means the bear was the best $30 we’ve ever spent.
Here’s a list of ten tidbits about The Salty Mamas. Some of these things we are super proud of, and other things OH MY GOSH NO WE ARE NOT (hey, we gotta keep it real though). And also, we’re not telling you whose is whose. Because of A.) Shame and B.) We don’t wanna. So, in no particular order, here are ten things you didn’t know (and maybe didn’t WANT to know?) about The Salty Mamas. Continue reading “10 Things You Didn’t Know About The Salty Mamas”
I found out I was pregnant with my first child just before my 30th birthday. It was a stupid deadline in my head, so besides the “We’re having a baby!” excitement, I also was celebrating hitting my silly goal. As we were setting up for my “Casino Night” theme birthday party, I was on all kinds of highs.
Then my husband said, “Enjoy it! It’s basically you’re last birthday.”
Uh, wait, what?? Continue reading “A Very Merry Mom-Birthday, To Me”
Yes, sometimes as Mom’s we’re way too excited about the little things. Like an extra piece of chicken or getting a good cart at the grocery store. But on the flip side? We’re sometimes overly salty – and I’m not talking about being salty in the good way like McDonald’s fries. I’m talking about the fact that we’re chronically exhausted and under-caffeinated no matter how hard we try to drink all the Cokes and coffees, and sometimes that makes us go from zero to salty in 2 shakes.
- When people order a plain old Coca Cola from a Coke Freestyle machine (we’re looking at you, Michael). You’ve got allllll the choices in the world, and you choose to be boring. I can’t. It’s just such a waste of a Cherry-coke-esque opportunity. See Also: people who order vanilla cupcakes with vanilla frosting at bakeries that pride themselves on having a million flavors (I’m looking at you, Nicole).
- People who try to “cut” in line while merging onto the freeway. And I know I’m not alone in this. But I think it’s the teacher in me that simply cannot stomach someone breaking kindergarten rules. I’m assuming you’ve know said rule for at LEAST 11 years if you’re driving a car, and you STILL don’t know not to break it? So. Rude.
- People on NextDoor who are like, “Does Anyone Have a Brand New Fridge They Want to Give Away?” Or similar. I get that there’s technically no harm in asking, and I also get that you just MIGHT find someone who feels like being a good neighbor. But I once saw requests for a new toilet, an astronomy book, and someone who would let a stranger crash on their couch for the night (!) in the same day. I know I shouldn’t be THIS annoyed by it, but I JUST AM.
- When my coupons won’t load at a Fast Food Place. I once refused to pay at a Taco Bell because they couldn’t scan my gift card, because I wouldn’t have gone there if I’d known their scanner was down (I feel like this is information that should have been stated upfront). I was like, “no thanks, keep my burritos,” but ended up just getting them free instead. So I guess I’m not THAT salty about this one.
- Stupid questions. I hate to break it to every teacher I ever had, but there ARE stupid questions. Like my husband asking where the pajamas are. In the exact same place they’ve been since the day our child was born. You KNOW this. I know you do. Just think my love! And then I won’t LOSE.MY.MIND. For the love of God just help me out here.
- Places that don’t serve our preferred soda. It doesn’t matter if you’re team Coke or team Pepsi – because you’re going to be pissed half the time either way. And sometimes, it can feel like they’ve selected your soda nemesis just to spite you. They didn’t, but still. Tell that to a tired Mom that just wants her Coke. Or Pepsi.
- When I can’t get a spot for the kids at the YMCA. I actually feel especially bad about this one, because I’m getting a SCREAMING deal on the amount of money I spend in relation to the amount of hours I use their facilities. But still. If I really want to get in on Wednesday morning and I call Wednesday morning even though it’s totally on me and I should have called Monday? I die a little inside when they’re all filled up.
- Crappy creamer. It’s off in the distance – a big, beautiful carafe of free coffee, and then you get closer and there’s just a jug of that powdered stuff. Look, I’m not saying I need some soy organic lavender infused vanilla bean creamer. Hell, I don’t even need a flavored creamer. But something – anything – liquid please?
- Waking up at 6:17 even when the kids aren’t home. Like this morning. When the kids are at Grammy’s but they’ve trained me so good I’m up at dawn. How I miss the days when I was able to just sleep in and enjoy a lazy morning!! But at least I’ll drink my coffee while it’s hot today…
We know you all MUST have some Super-Salty-Pet-Peeves of your own. We’d love to hear them in the comment section!
(And yes we DO know these are all first world problems, thank you very much. We also get salty about important things too, but let’s be honest, we’re not laughing about those, and neither would you. So this list is gonna have to do for now.)
Hi, my name is Jaymi, and I am addicted to caffeine.
I first discovered my problem a few months ago. We ditched the kids and went away to a wedding, and had the best time ever. We were surrounded by people we’ve been friends with for decades, and it was absolutely amazing to get to do all the adult things I wanted, whenever I wanted to. Tops on my list? Hot coffee. And lots of it. Isn’t that every mom’s dream? We meandered down to this adorable little bakery and I told the lady, as I am apt to do, that I wanted a hot coffee the size of my head. And she gave me the biggest cup, and pointed me in the direction of the self-serve, and I emptied that sucker into my cup. Like, literally emptied it. And then I ate my delicious pastry, and refilled it. And refilled it one more time. And emptied the giant coffee dispenser again. And thought nothing of it, because I’m a mom, and everyone knows moms drink all the coffee. Except then my friends started giving me endless shit. And they’re like, damn girl, that’s some coffee consumption. And I laugh it off, and I’m like, “You guys drink coffee too!” And they tell me, “Lady, we did not empty those two giant carafes. You did.”
“But!” I tell myself. “But their kids are older! They are getting more sleep than I am! I shall ask my mommy friends, the ones with two or three kids under five. THEY know my struggle.” After all, we talk about coffee non-effing-stop. So I know they’re with me.
Not so, my friends.
I make a quick survey asking my momsquad to give it to me in ounces, their daily intake.
“One twelve ounce cup in the mornings.”
“Sometimes a latte in the afternoon.”
“Once in a while I drink two cups in the morning, but usually one.”
What. The. Hell.
On average, those coffee-obsessed broads are drinking between 12 and 20 ounces a day. While I’m putting away 50. But because I hear about coffee nonstop, and I’m not that vocal about it, I always assumed whatever I was doing was normal. Coffee isn’t even “My Thing.” It’s our cousin Daniel’s, who we sometimes call “coffeecoffeecoffee,” or my friend Courtney’s, who posts about coffee on her Facebook page about once a week. The ones who are constantly waxing poetic about their daily joe.
There are millions of memes, images, dialogues about coffee. There are shirts emblazoned with “All I Need is Mascara and Caffeine,” and mugs saying, “Heart, Hustle, and Coffee” (okay, that’s my mug, and I made it. But still). We’re smack dab in the middle of a culture that has us celebrating coffee, glorifying coffee, and making it a primary topic of conversation in mom circles everywhere. It’s a thing now. Moms. Love. Coffee. So when my one cup became two became three became five, I honest to God went full-teenaged, “Well everyone is doing it.”
Again. Not so, my friends.
So now here I am, wondering whether I should take this newfound knowledge, own it, and celebrate it. Give zero effs. Maybe post a few more coffee cup selfies here and there so the world can I see that I drink that coffee without shame. Maybe I scale down my use a bit, see how it goes, in a moderation-is-everything approach? Or do I take this new information and use it to find a program, and get myself some help? I feel like it’s gonna take a bit more than the Serenity Prayer to get me through a day with these little monsters, but hey, it’s worth a shot.
Of espresso, that is. Obviously.
For many of us, school is just getting started. End of year teacher gifts are FAR off of our radar. We are miles away from Teacher Appreciation Week (thank goodness. It has turned into such a circus, but that’s a post for another day.) The last days of school? Please. Let’s just get through Back to School Night first, am I right?
Except then I had the CUTEST idea. On the first day of school, when I asked Lila how her day was, she said “I need three popsicles. And a nap.” The second day, she said, “When Mrs. D gets mad, she sounds like a buffalo. It’s AWESOME!” And it made me think about all the funny/silly/sweet things my students must have told their parents about me and my classroom, and I desperately wished I could have heard what those things were (I mean, the nice things, of course. I’m not a glutton for punishment. I don’t want to hear about how the kid said I’m a monster, obviously).
So I decided that I would keep track of the little things Lila reported about at school on a cute little paper somewhere, and then at the end of the school year, we could gift Mrs. D with a collection of the sweet, crazy, funny little moments that stood out most for Lila. Along with a fat gift card to Target. Because TARGET.
And I can’t just keep something like an adorable printable to myself, so we’ll go ahead and share it with our friends (aka YOU!). Download the free printable HERE and put it in a safe place where you can add to it throughout the year, and we’ll check back in with you in the Spring to see how it’s going. Follow the blog to make sure you don’t miss out on the update!
Want to make your printable even cuter? Click the link below to purchase a custom copy that includes the student and teacher names of your choice.
Custom Quotes Printable
This custom printable will take your gift to the next level! Simply click through to purchase, and you will be contacted for the names you would like included. We are also willing to make changes to the months and questions for no additional fee.
Do you have a kiddo in school? We’d love to hear the funniest thing your child has said about their classroom or teacher in the comments below.
Why do there have to be so many haters?!?
Okay, so I was going to take my kids to the beach. I live in a beach city, so it’s not the ordeal you might imagine. We were going for an hour and a half. My friends were going. I had packed everything and we were in the car and ready to go.
And DANG you would think I announced I was going to take my kids to fight tigers.
My husband says to me, “If you think it’s safe to take both kids, then go ahead.”
Oh hi, passive aggression. As in, “if somebody dies, remember, it’s on YOU.”
My mom says to me, when I call to complain about my husband’s lack of confidence, “No, no, of COURSE you can do this. (Is someone else going to help you? Do you have the ergo? Do you have puddlejumpers for both of them? Do you have sunscreen?)”
Cause clearly, I forgot all the beach stuff. You know, for the beach.
Even the effing lifeguard was like, “Ma’am, I know she has a puddlejumper on, but do you really want to let her play in the water by herself? Not the smartest move.”
Dear teenaged sir, I do not consider her going hip-high in water while I stand ten feet away to be in the water by herself. But since you are technically in charge here, I’m gonna have to act all concerned like I didn’t see the error of my ways until just now, and pretend that you didn’t just call me dumb to my face.
I mean, good grief. Give me a BREAK, y’all. It’s the beach- NAY, it’s the BAY- there aren’t even any waves! I keep these kids alive on the regular. I think I can handle two hours on the beach.
I mean, yes, Abram did drink some salt water, and Lila got a little sunburned, and I got scolded by a lifeguard. But did anybody die? No, thank you very much. So that’s gotta count for something.
And next time, I’m not telling any of you people that I’m even going to the beach. So don’t expect an invite. You ain’t coming.
Except the lifeguard, I guess. But hopefully the next one can mind his own darn business and let me and my kids get our beach on in peace.