Mother. Daughter. Sister. Friend. Blogger. Aspiring writer. Smartass. Sometimes I say funny things.

Archive for the tag “funny”

Parenting Fail Video

Last Mandy has dipped her toe into the video world. 

It came rather out of nowhere. I Snapchat regularly back and forth with my sister, and we’ve had some real gems between us that we have saved for future viewings. The thought occurred to me one night to make a video using various Snapchat filters for different characters, depicting actual events I have experienced. 

Tonight’s video is a completely accurate re-telling of something that happened a couple years ago with my girls. If you’re a parent, you’ve been there. You’ve had that moment when you witness your child doing something so over-the-top ridiculous, you think “Where did I mess up? What did I do to cause this? Whose kids are these?” etc. 

This is one of those moments for me. Link to YouTube. Enjoy. 


My last birthday in my 30’s

Well, this is it. My 39th birthday. My journey to 40 begins. 

Do you ever stop and look at your life, or look at yourself in the mirror and think to yourself: “this is SO not where/who I thought I’d be when I was this age.”? 

Me, too. 

I also remember thinking people who were this age were SO. Super. Old. I mean…ancient. But the older I get, the younger people older than me seem. Read it again. You’ll get it. 

Hanging around my teenage daughter and her friends, I swear I’m the cool mom. I actually GET what they’re saying. I get the stupid crap boys do. They haven’t changed. Mean girls are still mean girls — only meaner with more ways to be mean. I remember this age, this time in life, like it was yesterday. Because it WAS yesterday, right?? No. No, it wasn’t. It was 25 years ago. That’s when I was where my oldest daughter is now. How can I feel so young, yet so damn old? 

But let’s get honest for a moment. The truth is, I’m not at all who or where I want to be. And I have no one to blame but myself. I control me. Period. Of course, there have been things that have happened that I never could’ve foreseen – not in a million years. Maybe calling attention to their existence is a cop-out on my part. But the reality is, if I’m not happy with me and certain things in my life, I have only myself to blame. 

[What did she say?!] Yep. Accountability. 

I wake up and give my “ok” every day. My “all I got to give.” Not my best. I know that. And more importantly, I know why. I know what things weigh so heavily on my heart, soul, body, mind, spirit, that make me feel this way. And I have cowered to these reasons for far too long. 

Is this going to sound cliché? Yes. It is. But my last year in my 30’s is going to be one hell of a year for me. A year of transformation. A year of letting go. A year of speaking up, speaking out. A year of forgiveness. A year of enlightenment. A year of awakening. I will slowly start to recognize that woman staring back at me in the mirror. And I will love her. 

Yes. I will love her. 



Peanuts and Coke

My mom is a good ol’ Southern gal, born and raised. Born in Mississippi, raised in Tennessee. Mind you, she’s been out of the South for about 40 years or so, but she still sounds every bit like she’s just here (the Midwest) visiting. You know what they say – “you can take the girl out of the country, but you can’t take the country out of the girl”. They were talking about my mom.

Her stature is small, but her personality is mighty. Pretty sure this is where I get it from (on both counts). Like every good and true Southerner, she’s still a little bitter that the confederacy lost. But don’t let the accent fool you. I’ve seen her go toe to toe (in Mexico) with a 6’5”+/- Canadian man who had the audacity to bash Americans. She has a no-nonsense, straight-shooter approach to many things that I find very endearing.

One of the reasons why I have dedicated an entire section of this blog to “My Southern Momma” is because there are so many things she does and says that just deserve their own attention. She and her little ways are so funny and cute to me on many levels. And I have perfected my imitation of her accent – pretty proud of it if I do say so myself.

I will admit, more than a time or two someone has commented on ‘my Southern twang when I tawk’. I say it comes from years of living with her. If I am around anyone with a thick Southern drawl for any length of time, mine comes out full force. (Like Madonna’s fake British accent that only comes out when she wants to sound sophisticated…except mine isn’t fake, and it shore as hail don’t sound sophisticated – but I love it, it‘s a part of me, just as she is).

Since you have to read this and not hear it, I need to give a phonetic breakdown of some general words and how different they sound when my mom says them. The basic theory is that the syllables get stretched out and added onto, or in-fact, just the opposite. It depends on the word.

Examples as follows, refer back to it as needed:

Actual word                                            What it sounds like when my mom says it

Damn/Damned/Damn It                          Day-um/Day-umd/Daymit

Shit                                                            Sheeit

Ignorant                                                     Ig-nernt

Thing                                                         Thang

Hell                                                            Hail

Well                                                           Wail (or whale would work here as well)

Mandy                                                       Maindy

Can’t                                                         Kaint

Your/You’re                                               Yer

Sick                                                           Seeick

Baby                                                          Baybee (same but with drawn-out “i” sound as well)

*Totally unintended use of those particular words in that particular order, which might have a hidden meaning, but I’m leaving it as is. I’ll talk about that in therapy years from now.

Anyway – a few years ago, I was going through the first round of separation/divorce proceedings with my then husband. I say first round because we went through a nasty, ugly round a few years back, and somehow amazingly reconciled, stayed together a few more years, then finally had to call it. Second and final time was quite amicable. THIS time was brutal, to say the very least.

My heart was heavy and I was a big ball of stress and nerves – unable to eat, sleep, concentrate, breathe, etc. I was at work one day – and I mean that’s it, I was just “there”…that was all I could manage – and was just having “a moment”. A thank-God-I-sit-in-the-corner-so-no-one-can-see-me-sobbing…moment. And I needed my mommy (who lives five hours away).

I called her and she knew instantly that something was wrong – an innate “mom thing”, but her radar is way finer tuned than most. Freaks me out half the time, to be honest. I was sniveling like an idiot, breathing/sobbing spastically, taking 15 tiny breaths in 5 seconds because I can’t catch ONE – all the while trying to talk and explain what had me so upset.

Now…my mom is very sympathetic and coddling when I am THIS upset – at first. Another great thing about my mom is that if someone has done her baby wrong, she will get on an anti-whoever/whatever bandwagon like none you’ve ever seen. And it matters not who you are. It also does not matter if I am right or wrong at the time. If I am that upset, she is on my side at that moment. She waits until I’ve settled down to remind me that I might be wrong. And she always – without fail – eventually tells me “baybee, you need to stop bein’ so sad and upset and get pissed, dammit!”

I was still in full-on meltdown mode when she asked (knowing me) what I’d had to eat that day. It went a little something like this:

Mom: “Jeet anything yet this mornin?”

Me: “No…”(sniffle, sob, etc)

Mom: “Why??”

Me: “Mom, I just can’t – I can’t even think about eating, I’m too upset, I just can’t do it…”

Mom: “Wail ya kaint do that, baybee, yer gonna hafta eat somethin’ before ya make yerself seeick…even if it’s just peanuts and a Coke…I mean, sheeit…”

Me: (Abrupt pause in my sniveling) – “…what? Did you just say peanuts and a Coke? …and then ‘shit’?”

Mom: “Wail, you know what I mean…ya gotta have somethin’!”

And in an instant, I went from sobbing hysterically to laughing my A$$ off. Then she started giggling. And the more she tried to defend herself, the harder I laughed. #1 – I hadn’t drank a “Coke” in years. But then I remembered that in the South, almost any beverage is “a Coke” (ie. “y’all want a Coke?” “sure” “what kind?” “root beer”) #2 – Why THAT combo? Why THAT specific nut and THAT specific drink? I could throw out the same advice to someone and never in a million would I come up with THAT particular combo. My state of mind, combined with her saying it, and THE WAY she said it (like that was the most logical nutrition she could recommend for someone who just can’t eat) sent me into a spiral of gut-busting, deep belly laughter – which was exactly what I needed. She’s so stinkin’ cute.

The moral of this story is: Moms rock – especially mine. There is no greater earthly power than that of a mom. And as they say in the South: “wail…bless their little ol’ hearts” …all of them.




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