A Recalcitrant Wife and Mother Tells All

Tag: birthdays

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times…

…it was my week.

So, I’m going to ask Charles Dickens to help me pull it all together for your cultural edification, and also to class things up in huuuuur.

It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold: when it is summer in the light, and winter in the shade. ~Charles Dickens

On Monday I battled a recent ugly relapse into the depths of chronic depression when I accepted a dare by some of my blogging sistahs to showcase my hottest signature booty shaking moves on video. Score: Iris 1, Depression 0.

The response we all received was so incredible that we’ve decided to turn this into a monthly dance challenge. Look for more extreme hawtness and public displays of shamelessness coming to a monitor near you the first week of May. Interested in joining in on the fun? The more the merrier! Please contact Kerry @HouseTalkN to get the deets!

On Tuesday I was whining about how I’ve never been a bridesmaid and begging folks to consider me for future occasions. Several very awesome people including my blog crush Kristin from What She Said came forward and shared that they’ve also never been a bridesmaid. Oh thank GOD I’m not the only friendless loser one! I’m also pretty confident that if I can convince several of my readers to tie the knot, they may actually ask me to stand up for them just because they know I’ll bring da funk, and possibly the pantsuit. Case in point:

@ @ will you be my Maid of Honor? If I ever sucker the poor man into getting hitched? Dont tell @
Barbara Dockter


Oh snap! Sorry about that Melly, but I will cut you if you try to get between me and the Babzster.

Melly was ready to defend her turf though, and that bitch fights DIRTY:

@ @ Plus have you seen Iris dance? Yikes.....
Mel Stegner



But speaking of funk and pantsuits and female cage fighting, I answered several burning questions about my vintage getup on Wednesday…the same day the Top 25 Funny Moms contest ended, praise Jeeeezus. These vote-whoring contests are a bit of a soul-sucker, ain’t gonna lie. I wish there were an easier, more objective way to dole out the bling, but until someone invents a Funny-O-Meter, we’ll just have to rely on the popular vote. And lucky for me, you guys are über generous with your clicks and willingness to publicly support a hairy foul-mouthed suburban hostage with questionable feminine hygiene. God bless us, every one. 

So yes, I’m more than a little pee-my-pants-excited to announce that I made the final list, and am now officially one of the Top 25 Funny Moms (#5 actually, but who’s counting). Which was a perfect way to end the day and usher in MY 42nd BIRTHDAY on Thursday.

And even though Facebook totally screwed me and decided not to tell you that it was my special day (possibly a user error, but whatever), I still had a great time filled with lots of love and sugary goodness, including a magical trip to my Holy of Holies: Krispy Kreme, where I was given a free birthday doughnut and enough hats for my whole family to celebrate in STYLE!

Poor Bucket Head...he's like "Can we please just eat da doughnuts?"

Special thanks to Chantelle at the Roswell Krispy Kreme who hooked me UP, y’all! On a scale of 1-10 for customer service, that woman deserves an 11 and a pink Cadillac, or golden doughnut, or whatever those Krazy Krispy Kreme Kohorts do to show their appreciation for their best peeps. Thank you Chantelle!

But every rose has it’s thorn. No, that one is not a Charles Dickens original, but a darn close second (I heart you Bret).

That same day, my husband took me out for a birthday lunch at The Olive Garden because he knows I’m a sucker for an all-you-can-eat soup and salad experience. We had the two cutest waiters who were in training and thus very attentive. Seriously, I could not take a sip from my water without the one standing there to replenish my glass. Which makes me feel compelled to apologize to that dear sweet girl for exposing her to my vile language during a rant in which I got very emotional about the Trayvon Martin murder in Florida.

My heart is broken in two for this child’s family. Self defense, my ass. That boy’s only crime was Walking While Black.

photo credit: Martin Family/AP

In the little world in which children have their existence, whosoever brings them up, there is nothing so finely perceived and so finely felt, as injustice. ~Charles Dickens

Marian Wright Edelman wrote an incredible piece about this tragedy earlier this week and I have not been able to think of much else since reading it.

But to end this roller coaster week on a positive note, I received the sweetest of birthday wishes from long time reader Meili:

Hope your joy today equals what you bring your readers every time you post one of your hilarious blog entries!!! I’m so glad you were born!

Meili, what a beautiful gift! I’ll take that over a dozen hot Krispy Kremes any day. But I think Charles Dickens said it best:

No one is useless in this world who lightens the burden of it to anyone else.

Thank you Meili, and all the friends I’ve made on the Interwebs, who make me feel so special and ease my burden daily with friendship, laughter, and love.

your older (and hopefully wiser) friend,


“Laughter through tears is my favorite emotion!”

Aw, shucks, you guys. Thank you so much for all the sweet birthday wishes for my dear little Bucket Head and the kind words you shared about my sentimental tribute from last year! I feel all warm and fuzzy, and not just because it’s sunny today and I’m out of Magic Cream.

It’s been a rough week. I shared something very personal on Tuesday In The Powder Room and so many of you were incredibly supportive. I am truly touched and encouraged.

Maybe the lack of alcohol is enabling me to feel all the feelings that I normally keep at bay with my steady drip of boxed wine, or maybe it’s PMS, or the enormous amount of sugar I’m using to quell my alcohol cravings, but Lord have mercy…I could fill a Super Soaker with the tears I’ve shed over Bucket Head’s birthday this week.

I can’t place my finger on what it is about him turning five that is such a big deal to me. I’m ecstatic, proud, and devastated at the same time. There is light at the end of the tunnel, but I’m suddenly so nostalgic and sad that my last baby isn’t a baby anymore.

You should have seen this child in his glory on Wednesday, stopping random strangers in the grocery store to tell them “I FIVE!” (sic) “It’s my birthday today!” and “Now I don’t have to hold down any fingers!”

He gets that from me. I’ll probably be just as enthusiastic when I turn 42 next week and start telling people “Now I only have to take off my socks, count all my digits, multiply that number by two, and whip out my boobs to show you ‘how many’ I am!”

Yeeesh. That’s a scary thought. Just imagine what 43 will be like.

So, if you don’t mind, I just want to linger in his babyhood for a moment longer and thought maybe you’d like to join me since he’s such a popular character around here.

Five Things You Might Not Know about Bucket Head:

1.) Bucket Head is a Water Birth Baby. This may explain why he is deathly afraid of water and does not like to swim, bathe, or touch icky things. Ironically, he is also a Pieces.

...the beach is not his fave. He doesn't like the water OR the sand...especially in his mouth.


2.) We call him Bucket Head because when he was a toddler he took to wearing one of my old OxiClean Buckets on his head everywhere he went.

Photo credit: Laura Lee Photography


3.) Bucket Head has spent the past 1,828.25 nights snuggled up next to a plastic crib aquarium toy he affectionately calls “Turtle.” Turtle is heavy, stinky, and noisy as hell, but not to Bucket Head. I have faith that he will eventually outgrow his Turtle-dependency, but if not, I can sew him into one of Bucket Head’s pant legs on his wedding day and it will be his wife’s problem from then on out.


4.) Bucket Head had what my pediatrician called “the worst case of Chicken Pox [he’d] seen in over 15 years” because I fell behind in his immunization schedule.

Bucket Head, 18 months old, having some outside nekkid time to dry out the pox.


5.) When Bucket Head was a baby, he had a heart shaped “stork bite” birthmark in the middle of his forehead. It was not very noticeable unless he was pooping, in which case it would glow bright red. We affectionately called it “The Poo Beacon,” a very useful feature for newborns…like one of those pop-up turkey thermometers.


And “one to grow on”…

6.) He has always had a knack for making funny faces.


Yup. That’s my Bucket Head. Someday you’ll be able to say you knew him way back when. And hopefully I’ll stop crying by then.

Have a great weekend everyone!


(Psssst. Don’t forget to vote for the Top 25 Funny Moms today!
Just click this link and then click the “thumbs up” sign next to your favorite bloggers. You can vote once every 24 hours until March 21st for as many bloggers as you wish. Thank you!)


Holy guacamole, my sweet little funny-faced Bucket Head turns five years old today!

Here is the sentimental birthday tribute I published in his honor last year. It’s still one of my all-time favorite posts. Based on the comments, you may want to have a tissue handy.

New here and want to get to know Bucket Head better? Here are five of my favorite Bucket Head related posts for your reading pleasure:

It’s just a phase….I hope.

I might have to change grocery stores after this.

Pushy Preschool Paparazzi and The Power of Prayer

You can’t beat THAT with a stick. Really. Don’t.

How to Revive Your Child’s Limp Curls

Thank you for being here with me to celebrate this precious and funny little boy on his special day!

with gratitude and love,


PS – Have you voted for your favorite Top 25 Funny Moms yet today? Just click this link and then click the “thumbs up” sign next to your favorite blogs to cast your votes. Voting ends on March 21st. Thank you!

Happy Birthday, Bucket Head!

Four years ago today, my third and final child was born. Bucket Head, you are the greatest surprise party of my life.

When you were born, your little face was so bruised that you looked like a gigantic blueberry with an attitude. I’m not going to lie, it was a little shocking to behold at first. I’m pretty sure your Daddy looked twice at you and wondered if I was taking special deliveries from our African American mail carrier.

That was day one, and you continue to amaze and surprise and delight me every day. Bucket Head, you are such a gift. Every time I look at you, or hear your precious giggle, or inhale your outdoors-fresh-little-boy-scent, I am reminded that God always has better plans for each of us than we could ever imagine on our own.

I pray that you always behold your family in your eyes and heart as you did when you were a baby.

And that they keep you sacred in their eyes as well.

May you always delight at your reflection and see yourself the way God and I see you.

I pray that in all your relationships, you’ll continue to look for the similarities, and not the differences.

May you always take pleasure in the little things:

And know that our arms are always here to hold you when the going gets tough.

I’m pretty sure a good book and a cuddle is one of the cornerstones of a happy life.

I hope your love and compassion for all God’s creatures stays a part of you forever.

And that your affection is always reciprocated…

But mostly, I just give thanks. You are a ray of sunshine in our lives… a bright beacon of hope and joy.

Happy birthday, my angel, my love, my surprise party extraordinaire.

"I four."

All my love,


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