Titles are overrated anyways. Screw the title.

Sorry Queefies.

The comments were broken all weekend.  I hope they work now.

And this morning, I had this really cute post written and then I clicked on “SAVE” and instead of saving, it went to the Log In page and when I got back, it was gone.  It took me an hour to write it because of all the kid interruptions and now it’s just gone.

Fucking fuck.

Mother’s Day was nice.

We did our traditional trip to Attleboro Farms to buy trees and flowers.

I asked the woman in the green sweatshirt if they had any Venus Fly Trap plants big enough to devour a large dog and she looked at me like I was some kind of bitch and then she protectively cradled the cat she had in her arms and scurried away.

That wasn’t very helpful, Queefies.

But on my quest to find a dog-eating plant, I bought a Rose of Sharon

tree thing and two whispy things with pinkish orangeish flowers that will turn into 8 foot wide bushes some day.  We just have to get those nematodes now and then mulch the wasteland and maybe, just maybe, our yard won’t look like it belongs next to a crack den even though it’s next to farm.

And today Mister is going to call Hotty McHotson and talk about getting a truck full of mulch and some stones for the patio because it needs to be done in two weeks (!) for Girlfriend and Homeslice’s BIRTHDAY EXTRAVAGANZA.

You’re all invited, btw.  It’s the 29th at 1-ish.

I’m making TWO cakes, one for each kid, for double the failure rate.  I love a hopeless cause, don’t you?  Maybe I’ll just phone it in and make boxed mixes this time.  I don’t fuck those up that badly most times.

I don’t know why but it makes me feel like a failure as a woman and a mother because I cannot make cake from scratch.  Lynne knows how because she is not a failure as a woman and a mother.  Maybe I’ll make her come and give me lessons on how not to cock womanhood up so much.

This is fascinating, yes?

Sorry.

Remember how something clicked in my head a couple of months ago after only a couple of trips to Monica the Ninjerapist and I felt totally great and my PPD had just gone away like magic?  Well on Saturday it came back with soul- crushing fierceness.  I don’t know why or what happened.  It was just…back.

So, that was a nice mother’s day present.

And then at other times, I feel totally fine again.

I’m a little skitzy,  I don’t mind telling you.  Or do I?  I can’t decide.

Let’s see…what else?

Tomorrow I have a pretty neat-0 contest for you guys, so put your thinking caps on and get ready to kill eachother for a GIFT CERTIFICATE.

Everyone loves those.

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13 comments

  1. That Rose of Sharon looks amazing! I’m sorry about the PPD. Really sorry, honey. It will pass! I promise! And if not, then drink some more. That helps.
    .-= k8’s last blog post… We Have Lift Off! =-.

  2. Here’s the thing…a boxed cake mix is fine–just make some sort of amazing home-made frosting!

    Didn’t we already decide that any cake is only worth it’s merit as a conduit to hold mass quantities of frosting?!

    Go for it! You can’t lose!

  3. My family is lucky to get boxed. They drive me freakin nuts anyway! I think it is a necessity to be bat ass crazy when your a mom. If not the little monsters will walk all over you with golf cleats while pulling your fingernails out with pliers and laughing hysterically….oh I remembered my dream from last night! Anyway they need to be on their toes wondering when crazy mom will return. Crazy helps the cause….seriously though sorry about the PPD. That shit is a beast!

  4. Dude, I live for boxed cakes. I don’t even like the taste of cakes from scratch, so you totally shouldn’t feel like a failure. I mean, Pilsbury invented Funfetti cakes and frosting for a reason.
    .-= stealthnerd’s last blog post… Mrs. G’s Guacamole =-.

  5. I finally got the book that I had on reserve for at least a decade. The book that you are mentioned in……This Book is Overdue…….Nice chapter about poo……….sorry you have to deal with it….what about the blogger who now blogs in secret? I kinda want to follow her……where is she?
    .-= Rebecca’s last blog post… To My Kids =-.

  6. Dude, I just made a comment last week about needing a Venus CHILD Trap to catch the neighbor’s F-ing kids. NINE motherf-ing kids UNDER THE AGE OF TEN. I want to kill myself every day when school gets out cuz it’s like the whole fucking zoo is in my hallway. NINE children in an apartment. FML.
    .-= Misty’s last blog post… Being Bodacious: Chapter 3 =-.

  7. My Dearest Crissy…

    I can almost guarantee that your children will not grow up to be psychopaths and find themselves in a therapist’s office saying “If only my mother had loved me enough to make cakes from SCRATCH instead of from a BOX my WHOLE LIFE would have been different!”

    So you can’t bake cakes from scratch! You can make molds of Mister’s junk and write a blog that I look forward to reading every single time you post even if you are all pissy about not being able to bake a cake from scratch.

    That you cared enough to bake ANYTHING and that they had a party and people brought them presents and they are warm, safe and loved is really and truly what matters. I can’t tell you whether any of my birthday cakes were made from scratch or bought from a bakery… what I DO remember is that my Mom knocked herself out to make sure I had a party every year.

    It’s hard because I am sure that right now you feel unappreciated, but seriously, you’re a fantastic mom and totally NOT a failure at any part of being a woman. **HUGS**
    .-= MsDarkstar’s last blog post… Share the Love Safely Winners! =-.

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