My Pussy will be bigger than yours someday, though it already obviously is.

Let me tell you what's wrong with people today. It's the bitchy whiny shit. I'm offended that you said fuck. Well I'm offended you got offended you whiny little bitch. You can't buy that gun because someone died from a gun once. Really? I don't think you should... I think you are... Basically, I'm telling you how to live your life because I'm a self-proclaimed superior to you.

My story tonight pissed me off and makes me think I'm in the movie Idiocracy... I blame public education.

Some "friend" on Facebook posts a picture of a Savannah Cat as if he wants one. As if they are awesomely cool, and they are. This is the picture he posted...

One of his friends comments that they are 20 grand. I comment that I've seen them for 1500, I hope they aren't 20 grand because I plan on getting one some day. Yes. I confess to you all here and now, I want a Savannah Cat. Oh the Humanity!

So then this blond twit gets on there with something along the lines of, "I can't believe people would spend money on a cat when there's so many for free in the shelter. It's wrong to buy a cat."

Right under my comment about buying the cat. Right under it! Yeah.

I could let it slide. Maybe she didn't notice my comment? Who the fuck am I fooling? She noticed. That's why she said what she said. Am I going to let it slide? Hell no. I'm sick of people doing that shit. They think it's ok because they are passive aggressively judging you on something stupid. Bull shit. An ass is an ass.

So I comment something along the lines, "My money is my money, and how I want to spend it is my choice. Quit worrying about what other people are doing and worry about what you are doing."

And this other friend of his who had the name of a black man yet was white and scrawny (had to point out, it's just an observation, I have yet to get to a point where I'm ready to make fun of that in my head) had to jump in and troll. "No you buying that cat is condoning the overbreeding of the poor female cats. Not to mention you aren't helping a cat in a shelter."

I pointed out his clothes were most likely made in sweat shops and his bank most likely received a government hand-out bail-out.

Then he argued that his clothes are made in sweat shops, but that's ok because he bought them second-hand and he had no choice. He had no choice in what clothes he wears. Me buying a cat is still wrong because buying a cat (unlike buying clothes) is a choice.

So I stuck to my guns... Don't play that holier than thou stuff with me. You need to worry about where you spend your money and I will worry about mine.

Then the twit chimes in with... "It's unethical" and various other choice words, "How dare you call us names? Quit complaining you complainer."

I'm like, "No it's not unethical, and you are rude. Where did you get your manners? Church? Need I remind you who is complaining?"

Then the guy was like, "You are performing ad hominem which makes you stupid and wrong."

So I googled Ad Hominen, and I'm thinking, how ironic... or hypocritical or something.

"1: appealing to feelings or prejudices rather than intellect
2: marked by or being an attack on an opponent's character rather than by an answer to the contentions made"

So basically, calling me unethical and immoral, judging my character based on how I want to spend my money and then criticizing it as their argument for ethics... that is not a fallacy to their argument. But me saying "quit bitching and worry about what you do" is... This guy is completely at a disadvantage when it comes to IQ points. That's not an attack on his character. That's an actual fact. 

Then I pointed out it wasn't ad hominem, and this isn't an argument. It was simply they got on a high horse and I kindly knocked them off of it. It was simply I'm straight telling them they are not only rude, but also stupid. There is nothing to argue. 

He was like, "See, that's ad hominem." 

But the twit calling me Psycho, however, is not. ... which I should say, calling someone psycho really isn't that much different than calling someone retarded. As a psycho, I'm kind of offended that someone would make fun of my mental health, but you know what? I grew a pair and got the fuck over it. 

Before I could explain that just because I think he was stupider than tits on a bull, I wasn't saying that means he's wrong, I was blocked by the guy who wanted the cat to begin with. Yeah. He picked their side. And that totally redefines stupid to me at this point...

So basically, I'm going to hell because I want to buy a cat. I'm wrong because I want to buy a cat. God forbid I want to buy a cat. And who is trying to stop me? Not them according to them. And the guy who also wanted to buy a cat? He took their side about how that's immoral in a "debate." 

I blame public education. 

If you are one of those people who tell people how to live like that? I'm straight telling you (yeah I am using your logic against you here). Get the dick out of your ass so that you may remove your head from that hole, and then open your eyes. OMG! There's a world out there, and it's different than yours. 

And if I want to pay a few grand for a damn cat, I will pay a few grand for a damn cat. I will train it to eat your cat because fuck you, that's why. My cat is bigger than yours. 

P.S. I ran out of cold diet coke, and it's too late for energy drinks, so I had nothing else but vodka to drink, so I wrote this post slightly pissed off at the stupidity of mankind and buzzed. Forgetting to put fresh Diet Coke in the fridge, I also blame public education for that one. Not really, but I might as well. It's always their fault. 

P.P.S. I probably won't train my cat to eat yours because my cat will have taste, and it's kind of mean. I'm usually not a bitch. Some people just bring out the bitch in me. 

What I did in 2013 according to Facebook

The Buzz Lightyear Story:

I ran to Walmart like I always do for things like diapers, and I see a Buzz Lightyear car thing on clearance. My 3 year old loves Toy Story, so that toy quickly became my toy. Well, I get it in the bag, and I hand carry that and like 4 other bags to the car. Every time my butt bumped the bags, Buzz Lightyear was screaming to the masses in the parking lot, "To infinity and beyond!" So I get home and bump the bag with my crotch, and this time, he was, "To the edge of the galaxy!" It's like he knows me.

It's official. Buzz Lightyear lost a leg. There's no putting it back on. The damage is pretty severe. We are talking broken pieces of plastic, which has the evil diabolical Dad's Foot written all over it. Now the 3 year old wants to draw a purple heart on him because he lost his leg in the line of duty. 

Things I could have invented:

The Sandman: It's a tranquilizer gun to sedate children

The Clint Eastwood: Vanilla Schnapps, rum, and whiskey, chased down with a whore.

Tim the Tool Man Taylor's Ar Arr ARRR Dishwasher: It's like restaurant style but smaller. It washes a load in 90 seconds. It attaches to the sink. The one they should be selling for households in the first place.

Cake Batter Flavored Pudding: In Devil's Food, white and yellow.

Amoxicillin flavored Jello: Pink bubble gum flavored childhood nectar for Jello Shots

The old school washing machine: I didn't invent it, but I want it back. This automatic push a button "so easy a kid WILL do it" crap is proof that many people in the field of industrial design do not reproduce.

Dependz: Kelley's Breakroom asked what you would want your Depends to say on them. My response... I think I'd want my adult diapers to say, "Badasses wear diapers."

The Mom: It's a Ford. A mini SUV like the Escape, but the back end has seating options, like you can sit 7 people and little trunk space (rack on top), or you can sit 4 people and trunk space, like the seat flattens. It will be reinforced to the strictest safety guidelines, have a 5 point harness built in one of the back seats, a built in DVD player with a separate speaker for the back than the ones in the front for radio and options to put in at least 5 headphone jacks. It shall also have the built in GPS but instead of just telling you where to find places, it also does reminders like, "Do you even have your grocery list?" and "Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately?" There shall be a button on the steering wheel (AKA the Sammy) that you can push where all the speakers loudly proclaim in Samuel L. Jackson's voice, "SIT DOWN SHUT THE FUCK UP AND LET YOUR MOM DRIVE." The front seat will also have 6 cupholders and a dish that fits into the dash that can be removed and washed, large enough to fit 3 half-eaten ice cream cones. The interior will be designed where clean up is a snap by hosing it down at the car wash. It should also come with a sign on the back window that says, "Crazed distracted mom on board."

Things I did:

I was on hold. I just sat on hold for 20 minutes to realize they hung up on me. Since there never was any music, I probably never was on hold, you know, sitting here "on hold" bitching that they ain't got no music.

In January, I heard a ticking sound near my computer. In March, I figured out what it was. 

I gave myself a pep talk. Well this day better watch out. I said it might turn to shit earlier, well I'm coming at it guns blazin. I got my Mr. T "Shut up fool" shirt on. I'm about to make my day have a shitty day. Watch.

My recipe for Cup of Sanity was featured in Circle of Moms. Popsugar also featured my Lazy Pork Roast recipe. Yes, the only recognition I got for my blog was my food. Nevermind my mad writing skillz. Geesh. 

I met my mother's husband's sister's son-in-law's sister-in-law on Facebook. So that makes us step cousin in laws right? I'm being serious. I did just meet this person just now on Facebook. What brought us together? A discussion about meat.


I was sleeping in bed dreaming I'm watching a Harry Potter documentary, in it they ask these women what they thought it would be like raising various characters as children (yes it was a very good documentary had it been real), and one woman, in her response, at some point said, in a British accent, "it's like being house chef. We enjoy the duties, planning exciting meals and making them come alive on the plates, but then we also enjoy the house cleaning... " I woke up. My brain said something so stupid it woke me up.

THIS I actually remember doing…
Walmart stories... So I find a Wok for 5 bucks. Hell yes it became mine. As I'm leaving the check out with my grocery cart full (pay day woohoo) and the wok in my hand unbagged waiving it in the air, I'm saying, "I'm walking. I'm walking..." Nobody got it. Old dude behind me looked at me like I was stupid and cashier guy appeared confused. I was like whatever. SO I go to Subway and talk to that guy and he didn't get it either. I'm like, "this is a wok, I'm walking, c'mon now, this is punny shit." and finally everyone at Subway was laughing at me, but I don't think they were laughing in the way I intended it to go. Like they weren't laughing with me... So then I go to put groceries in my car, and I'm on the outskirts of a storm brewing in, like if I looked up, there was a distinct line between Bright Bright Sun Shining Day and Rainy Dayz. The wind was strong. Lightning was on crack. And my friend said there were tornadoes spotted in the area already (we don't get tornadoes). So this old man, possibly over the age of 80, makes eye contact with me, and I break out into, "It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood, it's a beautiful day for living," and then I held out my hand with a sincere look on my face, "Would you be mine, could you be mine." I think his wife got jealous. He looked at the storm brewing. Looked at me. Scratched his head and started laughing. That was worth it.

I don't remember this
I totally could have picked up this 22 year old man today if I hadn't been married by talking about how I need to shave my legs (showing him my hairy legs from the knee down). Now that's swag people.

Or this
And BTW, I did threaten the cable guy that if he complained at all of my messy house, I would castrate him. Then maybe I threatened that if he was thinking it and waited until he left to start talking shit about my messy house, I would find him and castrate him. Maybe that's why he was so hesitant to tell the 3 year old his name when she asked a hundred times?

I wrote a Fortune Cookie (online generator, not a real cookie).

We solved the age old question, where are Max and Ruby's parents? According to some random person named April, "The book's writer and show's creator say that they don't show the parents bc the point is to show how kids/siblings can work out small problems on their own. And that if a bigger problem arises, their grandma is there." I still think they are humping because they are rabbits and that's what rabbits do.

Maybe foreshadowing was a better word than irony? Irony still works because I didn't know that until just now, so when I wrote it, it is ironic that I was missing a good chunk of info you all already knew because I'm a little daft and slow and you aren't. Eh, it's too early in the day for literary devices in life...

I drove thru McDonalds and ordered "Vanilla Ice Cream in a dish," and I got ice cream cones turned upside down in cups. When I said, "I just want a little vanilla ice cream in an ice cream dish," the manager resolved the problem by putting ice cream cones upside down in an ice cream dish. She was a blond soccer mom. They now think that's how I prefer my ice cream and do it every time just for me, so I go to Burger King now for ice cream.

I wished everyone a Happy Mother's Day. Happy Mother's Day to all the women out there, whether you have kids or not, because I think if you don't have kids, celebrating this day anyway is the only way you will get to celebrate this day with all the shit implied with this day. A day to yourself. To get a break. To relax. The only way you get to do that as mom is to celebrate this day BEFORE you become a mom. So Happy Mother's Day to all you people who have a uterus. To all you moms out there, if your things you married and your spawns let you have some time to yourself, you should totally thank them with some home cooked meal tomorrow or next week. So far, we'll be ordering pizza. And to everyone who is all "this is the day we appreciate moms for their hard work," Fuck You. You should do that every day you dirty bastard.

I pondered deep intellectual questions. Do viruses have souls?

I made resolutions. From now on, I will be picking my nose before hugging or shaking hands with someone I don't particularly like.

I decided to start signing these as...

So what did you do last night? I walked around my house in circles looking for shit. Like I do every night.

I confessed one of my deepest fears of publicly shitting myself as a result of a fart. 

No idea what I was talking about here...

I discovered this website: http://www.softschools.com/math/greetings/
I posted this poem on Father's Day:

Daddy breathe again
let me see again
and show you when you danced with me
I stepped on your toes and only God knows
how much I cried
inside
the day you left me
how much I tried to give you life with memories
your face, your smile
your hands, your touch
your voice, your words
I need
to find my words lost in your breath from the day you left
gone, with the wind beneath me
if you could only breathe
I can open my wings
finally exhale
and be

I questioned my youth... I keep seeing friends of friends on Facebook who are my age, good looking men, and I'm like, "Is that Lou's boy?" Fuck. What the fuck was I doing back in the day? I know everyone's dad.
I found my usefulness in the zombie apocalypse: So it's very possible it's time to clean out my purse. I have like 5 Apple Juice Boxes in the bottom of it. Who does that? Me. Like I'll be real great to have in an apocalyptic setting. Stale Apple Juice from McDonalds anyone?

I learned how much it sucks to have a pull up in the wash.

I watched all the ole skool Star Trek episodes. Almost all of them.

I told everyone when I was a kid, I wanted to grow up to be the leader of the Pink Lady's Club. Movie Grease. The Pink Lady's pledge is to act cool, to look cool and to be cool. Think Pink. Of course I ended up being a nerd instead.

I had a telemarketer call and ask for a person named Abracadabra.

My PAP results were normal.

I made the world a safer place. I'm one of those people whose lack of coordination is a level of talent, like if there is a dot the size of a quarter of juice on the floor, I'll not only find it, but I will slip on it and land in a split. If I'm going to drop the top of a bottle, it will bounce off the countertop, off my boob and into a little glass of dirty grease in the sink. So when I say the world is very lucky I never pursued a career in EOD / diffusing bombs, I really mean it. In fact, all of you should stop now and take a second to thank God I don't work around explosives.
My bartender gave me his marbles since I lost mine. Story here.

I ate two entire apple pies by myself in a matter of 2 days for Thanksgiving.

I discovered coffee a la mode and Cinnabon Delights from Taco Bell.

I thought the sky was falling for a second and realized the kids threw a pen at me

I learned how to do this: http://www.interestingfunfacts.com/open-can-without-can-opener.html

I failed at the Vulcan Neck Pinch

Some woman at Walmart growled at my kids

Dr. Seuss Stories

Dear Dr. Seuss, I seem to have accidentally gotten your things. Thing 1 and Thing 2 most specifically. And why did you never write about Thing 3? I have that one too. I think they have possessed my kids with their evil thing magic. Where is the Cat in the Hat to clean this mess up? Signed, the mother who is starting to mind.

I swear I just figured out Dr. Seuss's logic. See i think it all started out he was sorting through the clean socks, and was like, 'One sock, two socks, three socks, four..." And then he wrote the entire poem, but then later was like, "Who wants to read a book about socks? What about fish? I can draw a fish. Let's do fish.

Ever scream at the kids, "Stop fighting. I'm serious. Stop it. Stop it now?" Ever choke on your own spit in the middle of your sentence? Ever dribble on yourself from choking on spit mid sentence? And I wonder why the kids never take me seriously. Sigh.

What my kids did:

One kid broke her arm at school, and the other kid got lice from school, so I sometimes wonder why I don't home school.

My two year old walks up to me, mind you she has this Shirley Temple meets Little Orphan Annie look going, and she's holding a banana to her ear talking into it like a phone. She's saying, "Yeah, I want to buy bananas. Hold on." She hands me the banana, so I talk into it, "Hello? Yeah? How many bananas?" She looks at me as serious as can be and says, "Mommy, that's not a phone. That's a banana."

You know those deep philosophical questions like if a tree falls in the woods and nobody is there to hear it, does it still make a sound? Or how many licks does it take to get to the center of the tootsie pop? Which came first, the chicken or the egg? I got a new one. Just how long can one kid cry because she got the yellow gum ball instead of the pink one?

So my oldest daughter wants to wait until tomorrow evening to brush her hair. LOL I was like, "Um, no." She's like, "Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow," and I'm like all sincere actory with my serious face, "creeps in this petty pace from day to day to our last syllable of recorded time, and all our yesterdays have lighted fools the way to dusty death..." I swear I put some British actors to shame just now. Then she interrupted, "TOMORROW TOMORROW" I'm like in my dramatic singing voice, "I'll love you tomorrow you're always a dayyyyy ahhhhh wayyyyyyy" (because she loves it when I sing). After a good 20 minute debate about tomorrow which totally beats an Obama debate because she's pretty stubborn about tomorrow, which how can you argue Little Orphan Annie, you can't, that's why I won, anyway I remembered to eat my breakfast of champions. Two ibuprofen. Good morning luvs.

My 6 year old: "Let's turn the world into popcorn so everyone can eat the world" 

The 5 year old: "Everyone will get really big." 

The 3 year old: "Um, everyone will die. We will die."

So I go to take the older two kids to school, late, and the 3 year old needed to use the bathroom, which was full of 2 classes taking a bathroom break. Now i'm not sure how old this little girl was, but I'm guessing she was 5ish. She had one of those adorable faces that would be perfect for a Crest commercial. As my little one was washing her hands, this girl asks, "Is she four?" and I'm like, "No, she's 3." and she responds with the straightest most serious face, "I bet she turns 4 next year."

I was taking a shower talking to my husband. Right about the time my daughter walks in, I finish the shower, fling open the curtain, and say, "I really need to trim this beard, don't you think luv?" Referring to my lady parts of course... My daughter is like, "What beard mom?" and I was like, "uh..." she looks closely at my chin and says, "Nevermind, I see it."

I think I need to start ending all my parenting advice (not criticism) in "Of course, my kids don't listen to me for shit and they destroy the house, so my advice might suck."

What the husband did:

My husband cracks me up. When he's tired and the kids are misbehavin, he starts to go off on them for what they did, but before he's done with his rant, he goes of on what they will do. Mind you, they are ages 2, 5 and 6. He starts getting into their teenage years... Shit like, "When you get you get older and start to get all smart assy like you know it all, uh huh, just wait, we'll see who knows it all."

He grabbed my boobs. My husband is one of those men who likes to grab my boobs occasionally, like when I am walking, doing dishes, typing, reading... At least, in his defense, he doesn't make honking sounds; however, it deeply annoys the ever living fuck out of me. And then, he loses about 100 IQ points when he actually believes that it somehow turns me on and we should go have sex somewhere... Break out the Marvin Gaye, turn the lights down low, give me that good love, you found the g-spot in my cleavage, must rip off clothes right fucking now. So, to retaliate, I just randomly pinched his nipples with ice cold fingers. I think I shall make this a new habit.

We almost died watching a movie. So the hubs and I are watching the newer Die Hard, again. So it's at the beginning. I talk the husband into giving me a back rub, I hope, so I start to unzip my jacket. I look at the TV and the woman is doing the same in the movie. Then I take the jacket off right as a dude was doing that in the next scene. Then I tell the husband to catch me because I'm laughing too hard. He's seeing this too. And then I look at the TV again, and there's a man holding a woman. I pointed to confirm the husband saw it too. So then we both look at each other like, "Oh Shit," the next scene someone gets shot. Best believe I locked the door and said a little prayer until that part was over. We survived.

He got Boobed. With the way the kids are acting today while I'm trying to clean and no where near getting much of anything accomplished besides losing my mind and sweating a lot. A lot. Yes, I'm talking boob sweat. As soon as my husband walks in that door, I'm shoving my sweaty boobs in his face because he's the mother fucker that knocked me up.

The husband loaded the washing machine with blankets and its imbalanced humping the ground where you could probably get off if you sit on the floor near the machine. So I explain to him, "Think centripetal force, there has to be balance in the force." That should work since he is a Star Wars nerd. 

Big Headlines in 2013

The government shut down.

We almost picked a big fight with Syria backing up terrorists who ate a human heart on video. 

A white girl sued Paula Dean and her brother for totally discriminating against black people. Everyone thought she just said the N-word and was like, "that's no big deal stop talking about it" because they like butter that much. 

Miley Cyrus twerked it while licking the air. And she molested a foam fan finger on stage.

Robin Thicke pissed off women with Blurred Lines.

Some 300 kids trashed a football player's house and their parents wanted to sue the football player. 

Phil Robertson said homosexuality is a sin. I don't know where these Christians come up with this stuff. 

Netflix dropped Nickelodeon. No more Dora on the Netflix.

The KKK invited some of my black friends to join during their membership drive. 

Best Search Terms that Brought People Here:

• Zombie rabbits from Alice in Wonderland 
• Sentenced to" nipple slave screamed 
• The word fuck in binary code 
• can you use grits as a pocket pussy
• you totally dive into a pool of
• sexy boobs story
• dirty sex

Places I pimped on the Page:

Hysterical Houswewife

Zookeeper's Wife

Don't Forget Your List App

Lazier Partners Racing

Parental Discretion

Country Boys and Country Chicks

Poor John

Let's pretend you are guy named John. You are AT WORK. Talking to people. And your phone beeps a text message. This is how the conversation goes...

Person X: You too Love

John: Who and where are you?

Person X: Is your phone not telling you? Or did your butt dial that for me too? I'm starting to form a bond with your butt here. If you must know who I am, I'm the unicorn who climbed your apple tree with my opposoble thumbs and is watching you watch people from the other tree you are in, and if you fall, I'll use my unicorn magic to make sure you land in something soft.

You may think, "Oh people text the wrong number all the time," but not in this case.

See, I'm obviously Person X. I have no idea who John is even though I'm forming an emotional bond with apparently his butt. I was chatting with my friend on Facebook. The last thing she said to me was to have a fantastical day after butt texting me "y ok." So I chatted back, with her name on my Facebook in a normal chat window, "You too love." And instead of going to my friend's facebook chat, it went to John's phone chat. He wasn't even on Facebook.

After a long line of questioning from both of our ends, refreshing my browser, typing in messages instead of the chat window, I decided I had no idea why Facebook was doing this, so I tried calling my friend, the numbers she listed on facebook, and low and behold, the second number was John.

Let this be a warning to you all. Make sure your numbers you listed on your Facebook are YOUR numbers. Poor John. He probably is too scared to sleep tonight considering a random stranger texted him she's forming an emotional bond with his butt and then called him. He probably thinks I'm the NSA.

MOM Syndrome: How to treat a crazy that defies medicine and freudian stuff

I suffer from what I call MOM Syndrome. The crazy. Coping with that life long sentence of insanity you get the moment the pregnancy test comes out positive… I actually want a t-shirt for it, which is funny because I have these cafepress stores, and I have yet, at the time of writing this, made one. I will soon, and the reason? Not one of those, "I pooped out 3 kids and all I got was this lousy t-shirt" deal. No...  You know how they have those little cards you can print up, and some people do, that say something like, "Sorry my kid has autism" and you hand them to strangers when your kid starts acting autistic (meltdowns) in public? It's like that. When I start acting all MOM in public, like a person who probably needs a straight jacket and padded walls, it would be nice to direct people to a simple explanation for it, you know, before they start admitting me into the funny farm. Now you are thinking, "Who gives a fuck what people think?" I really don't when I'm at Walmart, but when I'm at a doctor's office or my kid's school, okay I do give a fuck, like they need to know that I'm crazy because I try to be a good mom, and the fact that they are not crazy is a sign they either don't have children or they have a lot of help with it. 

OLD BLOG ON WHAT MOM SYNDROME IS

But the coping with this crazy? How do we do it? It's not like we get a shrink for it, and most of us self medicate. Those of us who do get prescribed help, it usually only curbs the anxiety, which I'm sure makes a little dent into the insanity, you know, like washing a dish or two in a hot mess disaster kitchen. 

I know some moms like my grandmother and my mother in law, both of which are/were in environments where the women did ALL the work and their men were completely useless when it came to the household, they turned to alcohol. I should probably say ABUSE of self medicated drugs... My grandmother started drinking at noon. My mother in law usually waits until 3PM. I don't know how they did/do it because like I couldn't function if you took away my ability to drive. And for those who are curious why I keep referring to my grandmother in past tense, she passed away Christmas of 1998, liver failure. 

Mary Tyler Mom beatme to a little of this subject. She says it well. For her mother, it was valium. It was not something she abused like my grandmother did alcohol, but it was her coping strategy for those really crazy days. Moms today, many of us turn to Facebook. It's our valium. And we probably abuse it more than the 70's moms ever considered trying with valium.

I don't think it's just Facebook. I think a lot of us moms are looking for a healthy outlet for our crazy, and the internet becomes it.

It's convenient. You don't have to get everyone dressed and load up a car and fuck with sadistic car seats in order to go talk to someone. Even better, chat and messaging allows for the kids to be screaming in the background and the taking a break to run and change a diaper and scream "STOP FIGHTING" mid conversation, something that is a horrible distraction to communicating via the phone. 

It becomes therapy. I have learned that it truly helps to realize you are not alone with whatever crazy ails you. I have learned that with autism, PTSD, and now, MOM Syndrome.

It becomes your friend. When your friends who don't have kids or have kids who are more independent can't find time to come see you or you them because they don't want to deal with your kids, you find people online who are caged to their houses and families looking for someone to talk to just like you. I probably have about 50 Facebook friends of females I met online who are better friends than most of my relationships offline, especially when I need that moral support.

It becomes a place to vent about how your children just spent $150 on Kick the Buddy app for the iPad, or how they took all the clean clothes out of the drawers, piled them with the dirty clothes and sprinkled cheese and juice all over it putting you at square one with that room and laundry all in the matter of minutes. We need to vent this shit because nine times out of ten, our men don't give a shit. If they listen to you, IF, they have little sympathy because they just totally saved the world in Call of Duty, like your day wasn't shit compared to theirs. Plus you have to let it out somewhere. I have learned, don't do this on your normal Facebook profile. Save it for a secret group of friends somewhere confidential. Why? Your haters are also on your Facebook, and they like to see you down like that. Who else is on Facebook? People who actually do worry about you, people who might hire you someday, and most important, people who do not understand at all and take it as bitching. 

It becomes your guide. There are no parenting manuals. It's a lot like Adobe products, like Photoshop, in this aspect at least. No manual comes with the program, BUT there are various tutorials online to help you navigate the program. We as moms have that resource too. We have Pinterest with recipe and craft ideas. We have Facebook sharing the crap they put on Pinterest. We have blogs about sanity and deep subjects that are parenting related like school bullying and rape. We have medical information at our fingertips. Some people suck at that kind of research and could diagnose their kid's common cold with some rare infectious disease from the planet Mars courtesy of Web MD. But some of us find it very helpful for home remedies, disinfection advice, identifying a rash (don't image search that while eating)… We get cleaning advice, cooking advice, gardening advice… Motherhood covers such a wide range of subjects that only the internet could hold all that in one place.

It becomes your shopping. Yes we women need to shop, and the internet too has that convenience. We also get packages in the mail which adds to the excitement of it. You can even buy normal stuff online like diapers and shampoo, in addition to our girly stuff like clothes and accessories, but also hard to find stuff, which is great when your kid needs something like hypoallergenic diapers and emu oil, or they have to have a Mario Backpack for school or Dora on their shoes…

It becomes your entertainment. This is the best of the internet. The funniest moms are online, and Facebook and blogs are full of humorous memes (funny pictures). Laughter is the best medicine, and us moms need to laugh. We need to learn how to laugh at the crazy in our lives offline, and we need to laugh at other people's crazy online. Insane in the Mombrain often gets emails from people serving overseas or dying of cancer who thank her for making them laugh in the darkest of times. Mom bloggers like her are that scene in the Lord of the Rings where Frodo falls down and the witch elf appears out of nowhere like a hallucination and helps him up. Patti at Insane in the Mom-brain, Nikki at Moms who Drink and Swear, and Sheila at Mary Tyler Mom are my elf witches. They have been for years now. 

It becomes your drama. This can be the worst of the internet. Anytime you put a bunch of women together, online or offline, for long periods of time, there will be drama. There will be the PMSy bitch. There will be the overly sensitive butthurt. There will be arguments and cheap tactics like spying and gossip and straight girl world bullying. People will call you fat and ugly, even though they have no idea what you look like. It will always be over something stupid.  I guarantee you there is someone on your facebook friends list (if you Facebook) where you had a falling out and you have no idea what the fuck it was about. You knew then, but not so much now. I'll tell you what it was about. Drama. Stupid girl world drama. Don't be embarrassed you were part of that. You are a woman. This is part of the package. We know drama. We know it more than TNT. And for some strange sick reason, we enjoy it, no matter how much we play it off like we don't. 

It becomes your addiction. It's really okay to be on Facebook a lot. It's okay to get sucked into the internets to where you have no idea what the weather is like outside. What's not okay? What I'm doing now. I'm sitting here typing this blog surrounded by filth I call home. I'm procrastinating cleaning up my childrens' destruction because A, I don't want to clean it. I just did that. I should get at least 12 hours in between catastrophic messes to myself. B, I want to write this blog. It's been on the to do list for over a week. I need to finish what I start. C, I have a sprained ankle. Who in their right mind wants to clean on a sprained ankle? My foot and leg are still purple and the baseball sticking out of my ankle has turned into a golf ball. Great it's healing. It's still a golf ball hanging out the side of my ankle and it hurts like a bitch when I step on it wrong. And A, B, and C are my excuse to be online, to escape my reality. To forget my house is a mess for a minute, and that minute turns into hours.

It becomes your tool. Kids math homework? Google it. How many cups are in a gallon? Google it. There's a calculator somewhere. To Do List/email/calendar/horoscope reading/dream interpretation/school closings and delays/weather forecast/stock market... The internet is full of information and tools we moms use regularly. 

It contributes to your growth/development. That's the important part. When a toddler is learning to walk, he will use whatever resources are available to him as a tool to help him learn. Naturally we do this. If there's a table, he'll use that to help him stand. It can be a table, a chair, a pack n play, a house plant, a stool, a vacuum cleaner… If it has wheels, he'll use that to help him move. We as moms do that, and the internet becomes our vacuum cleaner table stool that holds us up for a second before we pitter patter across the room to another vacuum cleaner table stool. While finding our balance with parenting via online tools of humor, shopping, calculators, recipes, research, we also nurture whatever we are trying to learn with support, advice, wisdom, and feelings. We share more than just funny internet memes. We share each others lives, whether it be to our friends in a closed Facebook group, or to complete strangers on a comment on a blog post. Some of my best lessons I learned came from some random person's comment. A plant needs water, dirt, and sunshine to grow, and the internet provides all of that for us moms. The water is the advice and wisdom. The sunshine is the humor, and the dirt is the comfort of friendship (or being anonymous in many cases).

It becomes your fantasy. We human beings love characters. We read books, watch movies, soap operas, prime time soap operas, reality television... whatever. We like characters. We like getting to know someone or a personality who isn't real in our lives and letting our imaginations run with it. We like falling in love with them. We like hating them. We like learning from them. The blogs online provide that. Each blogger is a character who pours their life online and you get to love and hate them. ... My friend is obsessed with Grey's Anatomy and has been making me watch all the seasons with her on Netflix. I never quite understood the character love deal (human fanaticism) until this show. Izzie is my lesbian lover, McDreamy is my husband who I cheated on with Henry who just died in whatever season I'm on, Arizona is my best friend and mentor and I am Yang. None of these characters interact like that on the show, but they do in my head, much like I am Insane in the Mom Brain's wife who cheated on her with The Bloggess and Moms Who Drink and Swear is my mentor (who I argue with a lot, but she teaches me so much with it) and People I want to Punch in the Throat is one of my main personalities I've been repressing for years. Mary Tyler Mom, she is my best friend I want to hug every day. Bitches in the Burbs is the Army of Bad Asses I call on when I need back up in a fight, you know, my posse (in reality, they give great fashion advice). The Zookeepers Wife is my therapist (she really is an astrologist), and I am Counting Caballeros' crazy cousin (she's the practical wise grounded one, even though she has more children than I do, and we really are probably related even though I met her online). Holdin Holden is my career oriented friend that makes me feel like I'm in a scene of Sex in the City except it's about booze and motherhood more so than sex. I Want a Dumpster Baby is the woman in the rap video I'm trying to mimic the butt shaking in the mirror nekkid, and I am Honey Badger Press (I'm not really her, just in my mind I am, I really am Dribbles and Grits). 

Of all possible addictions one could have to cope with MOM Syndrome, I think the internet is the healthiest approach. I also turn to Diet Coke, energy drinks, chocolate cake batter, and other cheap methods that do nothing for me but hurt me in the long run, but the internet, it entails good and bad, and it's my choice how I use it.

One thing I want to say to you, the person reading this, sometimes we have bad days as moms. I don't care if you forgot your mommy childhood (the early years of the motherhood struggle), you can at least admit you had bad days. You had crazy days where the shit you said made no sense and sometimes you were hurtful only because you hurt. Remember that other moms do that too. If you see them doing that anywhere, online or offline, don't be an ass about it. Ignore it and move on, or reach out and touch someone with some love. Some of us need tough love, real talk, yes, but when we are emotionally ready for it. A stranger trying to give the tough love talk, or the mocking (I tend to mock), that might just send them into a downward spiral and that shit is not cool for their kids. When you mock a mom losing her mind on Facebook, you are fucking with her kids indirectly. I'm not saying she's going to beat them to an oblivion or abuse or neglect them, but she is NOT going to handle her kids in her best mindframe if you provoke her, especially if she's on the brink of completely losing her shit to begin with. Don't be the flying monkey that pushes people over the edge. Reach out and reel them back to a safer ground.