Sunday, December 22, 2013

My New Years Resolution for every kind of Mom...

So, being that I am one of the few Mom's of right mind, I thought I would be generous with my blessing and help a few of you Moms out there with your New Year's Resolution. You are welcome.... that I am such an ass hole.

New Year's Resolution for 'The Double Standard Mom': To just stop talking. All fucking together- stop talking. Whatever you say, you contradict yourself. You speak about your healthy lifestyle then rave about Chick Fil A Sauce. You bitch about being broke and buy a new car. You speak about your religious ways then brag about getting shit faced. This last one really irks me cause you are making my peeps look bad. Yeah, you make your religion look bad but you're making drunks look bad and I have a real problem with that. And, you constantly speak your mind with your stupid, ignorant opinions but don't allow the same freedom for other morons to speak their stupid, ignorant opinions. So, again...just stop talking.

New Year's Resolution for 'The Yoga Pant Wearing Mom': To stop wearing fucking yoga pants. Okay, I get it, you occasionally run by the store on your way home from the gym. (I don't really get it- but I'll let it slide, cause deep down I'm nice, remember?) But why do you wear them, not only ALL day today, but ALL day EVERY day? Surely you have 20 minutes, 40 if you're super ugly, to get a little put together and change clothes. I mean, for the love of all things stretchy... Leggings are in style right now!! It's one of the easiest, laziest fashion trends there is! All you have to do is take off your yoga pants & tank and put on leggings & a top. Basically the same thing but one big difference- One is acceptable and one is not.

New Year's Resolution for 'The  Easily Offended Mom': To remove the stick from your ass. Yeah, You. Do not take everything so seriously and personally. Life, wait for it... can be fun. What a full time whip of a job getting upset and offended at every little thing. Miley Cyrus did not wreck that ball to get a rise out of you personally. And's roll out wasn't a cluster fuck just so you would have a headache researching health insurance.  And please, PLEASE, de-friend me or un-follow me and stop reading my shit. That way you won't even know that I wrote something offensive.  I'm sure you will sleep better at night, I know I will... not give shit either way cause I don't get offended.

New Year's Resolution for 'The I'm Selling Shit on Facebook Mom': Try to keep your daily posts about your product to 10 max. Past 10 daily posts people get annoyed. Oh, shit! Did i just type 10? I meant after the 1st one people got annoyed. The very first one- EVER. Not the first one today, the first one EVER. No one cares. Start a blog. Send out emails. Postcards. Write it in the sky. We are too busy judging people's kids to buy things on Facebook. And, no doubt, I am sure that I would be healthier, have better skin, be thinner and better bedazzled if I bought from you* but I take a higher reward in hiding you on Facebook- quickly.   But, good for you for getting out there and working! You go, girl! (*There are a select few, actually just one I can think of, that sell with class. I'm happy to name her if you ask.)

New Year's Resolution for 'The Woe is me Mom': Get over it. I am sorry your kid got sick and that got your other kid sick and that neither are napping because the neighbor is mowing and you are having a migraine episode! Or that, you got the bad nail tech at the salon and you had to park around the back since it was crowded.  Shit happens. It happens daily.* Get over it. You know why the reason shit keeps happening to you is cause you keep talking about shit happening to you. Think positive, trick. *side note- actual really important shit happens daily- try reading the news if you are ever feeling down.

New Year's Resolution for 'The I Have No Life Outside My Kids Mom': Get a life. Obviously the majority of my life centers around my family, namely my children, but breaking news- you should do other things besides parent. Get out there. Have a conversation with someone whose age is in the double digits. Plan something that doesn't require you to pack snacks. Enjoy yourself. If you are super ambitious you could even try to enjoy your husband.

New Year's Resolution for 'The Overly Crass, Cussing Offensive Mom':  Keep truckin', Hooks*! (*That's short for Hooker.)

I wish everyone a VERY Happy New Year full of fun!

Saturday, December 21, 2013

Fa La La La La....

... La La La La.

Wishing everyone a VERY Happy Holiday Season. I hope everyone celebrates what they want to celebrate with the ones they want to celebrate it with! 

And most importantly, I hope everyone is happy, kind and tolerant this season.

Here's a picture of Christmas' Past to celebrate the season...

Our Christmas Family Tradition, a Funny Face Picture.... our other tradition is Bloody Mary's. But not in that order, normally it is Bloody Mary's then Funny Face Picture. I'm pretty sure I had already had 3 Blood Mary's by the time this picture was taken. 
And, Sweet Stache, Dad.

Future Vanna White Showmanship right here.

Happy Holidays, you Motherfodders!

Friday, December 20, 2013

"She's so nice!"

So, I oddly, often think about the phrase "She's so nice!"  You hear it ALL the time. When there is a new Mom in your Mom's Club that you haven't met yet another member is telling you about her and she says "She's so nice!".  Or, one of your husband's friends has a new girlfriend, someone says "She's so nice!"

Nice. Ehhh. We had a saying when we were in our early 20's- "Nice only gets you so far." Not because we, AT ALL, condone being mean but to be described as just nice? How boring. And deep down inside I, too, am nice. But... nice? Is that how you want to be described?

I often think, there is no way that this sentence is said about me to a stranger that hasn't met me. No fucking way.  You get one sentence to describe me, it surely isn't going to be "She's so nice!" I would hope it is something like "She is literally the funniest person I have ever met" or "I wish I would be reincarnated as her!" But most likely it something like "She's got a mouth on her" or "She makes me really uncomfortable" or "I've never seen an eyebrow stay cocked for so long". But, nice? Highly doubtful. At least, I hope not.  I  like to hide the fact that I am actually nice- I save that for me true friends who have suffered through the crass, crude, honest, sarcastic decades of me.

I think, overall, I am pretty safe not falling into this category- this horrific category.  I am nice to people but I don't think, nor do I want, that to be my lasting impression. And, I don't think it typically is. This weekend  a good friend introduces me to someone and says "He can go toes to toes with you." I think, sweet, this guy can go toes to toes with me! Bring it on.  So, I was very shocked when this guy was beyond caught of guard and extremely uncomfortable at my first vagina joke. My first, not my third, my first. What a pussy.

So, it looks like I can steer clear of the "She's so Nice!" category, one vagina joke at a time.


Tuesday, December 10, 2013

A True Love Story: The Covingtons

We went to Galveston with the fam for Thanksgiving this year and it reminded me of how Cov and I got together...

My husband, Cov and I have known each other for years. We went to high school together.  When we tell strangers or new friends they all say, "Ahhh, that is so sweet!!!"  It was anything but sweet. I can't have "sweet" ruining my hard core image. Here is our unsweetened story.

We met in High School. "Ahhhhh!!!" Shut it. We ran in the same circle. I had a massive crush on him for a while but he was ALWAYS dating someone else. He was a serial dater- was until the we started dating. Shit, maybe he still is.

However, we managed to be "friends with benefits" from about 1997- 2007. On and off, of course. We lived in different cities, went to different schools, were in relationships, started our careers, etc. Some how through all of that we always found a (drunken) way to each other*. Consistency people, consistency. (*I remain my innocence of not knowing he was ever in a relationship at the time. times. multiple times.)

Then it was October of 2007 and we had driven down to Galveston, TX together for a friend's wedding. We got into town late and were waiting for our friends to wrap it up at an event. We did what anyone would do...drink.  We were sitting on the beach with a case of beer and a bottle of cheap tequila when I said "Why haven't we ever actually tried to date?"  (We had never dated or tried to date in the ten plus years of our history.) And to this day, Cov said the only sweet thing he has ever said "Cause we are afraid it might work."  Vomm.

We laughed it off, met up with our friends and told them our new plan to try dating. Everyone shrugged it off, I mean, it was Shelby & Cov. It made no sense and so much sense all at the same time.

So, we tried. It worked. 6 years later we are still together.

Damn you, cheap tequila.

Wednesday, December 4, 2013

Blog moving to Austin

I am a little overwhelmed with the overnight success of motherfodders.

I just started this blog and it is taking of like wild-fucking-fire. So, we have made a family decision that we should move to Austin for my blog.

I  know it seems a little crazy. But just like a plant needs the right environment to grow in so does a parenting blog. I feel like I will be able to be more free with my thoughts and words in Austin. It is a more liberal city that is in line with the philosophy behind motherfodders.

Austin will give me the freedom to write what I want to write about parenting, marriage, politics and religion. A freedom that Houston can not give me.

Austin will help guide motherfodders to new found glory. Austin will make motherfodders soar to heights once unattainable. Austin... is calling motherfodders home.

That, and we officially decided to move to Austin for my husband's job.

ATX here we, and motherfodders, come!*

*Spring/Summer of 2014

Monday, November 25, 2013

Fo real being Thankful

Okay, on a little bit more serious of a note. I truly do think that being thankful for what you have is of the utmost importance and it is one of the most important things to teach our children. And, I am very thankful, very.

Here are some of the things that I am most thankful for...

I am thankful for nap time. I am also, thankful for the extra 20 minutes my baby will play in her crib after nap time. I am thankful that both my children are asleep by 7:30 every night. I am also thankful that I have accepted being a loser and that my normal bedtime is before 9:00 pm.

I am thankful for vodka. And I am thankful for lemons that cancel out the taste of vodka. I am also thankful for red wine and the fairies that make my purple tongue disappear over night. I am thankful Cov doesn't drink coffee because then we would need two pots.

I am thankful for leggings. Oh so, very thankful. I am thankful I don't have to wash my hair everyday- that would be a bitch. I am thankful for the Real Housewives of ______ for enriching  my soul and exercising my brain daily.

I am thankful for my family. They are pretty fucking awesome. I am thankful that Cov makes me more laid back. And I know he is thankful that I make him more uptight. I am thankful that Sloan is starting to get sarcasm & use it. And, I am thankful that there is time for Harlow to grow out of her bitchy mood swings.

I am thankful for all my friends. I am thankful that they are just as big of assholes as me even though some are closet assholes.

I really am truly thankful for all the people in my life. And I am super thankful for all the people that aren't in my life.

So, here's to being thankful. Have a great Thanksgiving. I hope you all eat, drink and laugh too much.


Thursday, November 21, 2013

The Witching Hours

Parenting solo...

Sometimes Cov has to travel for work. A lot of times it's just for a day or two. This week he will have been gone five days. That is way longer than two days.

I know I am with the kids by myself from when they wake-up until normally 5:00/6:00 at night when Cov gets home. So what's the real difference? I mean, my kids go down at 7:00 and 7:30, it's only 2 to 2 1/2 hours more a day. You know what the real difference is?  It's 2 to 2 1/2 fucking hours. The witching hours to be precise. 

5:00-7:30. Shoot me. I know it is said over and over but there is a reason Happy Hour overlaps with this time. You need alcohol to survive. 

My precious, charming children as soon as the clock strikes 5:00 turn into monsters. 

They are like gremlins who are fed after midnight. Crazy versions of their former cuddly self.  Or a toy whose batteries are running low, they turn into effed up versions of themselves. Their voices are distorted, they can't move their bodies as well  and you cannot decipher what they are trying to communicate anymore. 

However, unlike battery operated toys and gremlins, all seems to be well when you get them wet.  I don't bath my kids to get them clean, I bath them for my sanity and their livelihood.  

Here's to bath time and Cov coming home today. 

Tuesday, November 19, 2013

9 Things you may not WANT to know about me: Mom Edition

Oh Facebook, you are at it again with your amazing memes. I will play this game. However, here is a list of things you may not WANT to know about me- Mom Edition.

1. I hate to hear my baby cry not because I am so sad for her but because crying is annoying.

2. I hate to hear my 3 yr old whine not because I am sad for her but because whining is even more fucking annoying than crying.

3. I carry hemorrhoid cream with me at all times.

4. Sometimes I give my kids Chicken Nuggets.

5. Every time I give my kids Chicken Nuggets I give myself some too.

6. I take pride in the fact that my 3 year old calls people "Shorty" and uses 'syke' appropriately.

7.  When we play Beauty Salon I have an alter ego named Charlene. And I think it is an Oscar worthy performance.

8. My youngest was 13 months old before I had a printed picture of her.

9. This list was going to be longer but my 'roids are acting up.

Thursday, November 14, 2013

FB's Thirty days of Thanks

Thirty days of Thanks... blerg.

I mean, it really is a special time of year on Facebook. I will say something insightful about this only once and here it goes: Shouldn't you be thankful for what you have every day? And, we move on.

Most likely as a FB "thanker" you fall in to one of two categories:

First is, you fall into the "I post my thanks so other people's perception of me is better."

You are either posting them so people can see how kind, humble and gracious of a person you are. "Day 23: I am so thankful to have the amazing opportunity to volunteer at Feed the Felons."  Wow, JoAnna spends her free time volunteering. My applause abounds for her generosity and sacrifice! Or, you are posting them so other people can see how awesome your life is. "Day 7: I am so thankful that S&G Auto hooked me up and I got my new rims for my Porsche a week early!!"  Say what!!! Johnny must be doing good! He's driving a Porsche. I'm so jelly!

Or Secondly, you fall into the "I post my thanks to help feed the lie I've been telling myself of having a great life."

"Day 15: I am so thankful for my sweet, kind husband who rubs my feet every night while reading the poetry he wrote about me." Please bitch, he hasn't touched you in months. Or "Day 8: I am so thankful for Adam. The last four years have been the biggest blessing and he brightens our world every day." Please bitch. Your. Kid. Sucks.

I will say though, Thirty days of Thanks does provide good fodder. It is me and one of my best friends favorite time of year. I will call her, for privacy purposes, Dookie. Dookie and I text about it year after year. All these "thankful" people. We might have, in years past, even taken some screen shots of superb "thankful" posts and started an epic text convo. I guess... well, that means I am thankful for Dookie. Shiiiiiiit.

And while I'm being thankful, I guess there is one more thing I am thankful for... I am thankful that I can hide thankful posts.

Monday, November 11, 2013

Soul mates, Schmoul mates.

"All because two people fell in love..."

"Our hearts beat as one"

"We were destined to be together"

"You complete me."

Soul person is destined to be with one other specific person for the rest of their lives and only that specific person would suffice.

Sha-fucking-right. Soul mates, Schmoul mates.  (If you haven't figured it out, Cov and I's relationship is riddled with romance) It is so annoying to me when people say this shit. It's probably mostly annoying because it causes a gag reflex and I end up with a tiny bit of throw-up in my mouth. And I hate throw-up.

But, I mean, think that my one and only destined soul mate out of all the people in the entire universe happened to live in America? And, he happened to live in Texas? Wow, he happened to live in the Dallas Area? Shiiiiza, he also happened to live in the same Suburb I did?!? SAY WHAT, he happened to go to the same High School as me?!??! And wait for it, wait for....he happened to run with the same group of friends I did???!?!?

Wowza, the soul mate factory must know I'm lazy.

Or maybe, just maybe.. we were two grown ass adults who made the same decision at the same time to get married? Good decision, bad decision? Verdict's still out. But, shit, if it was a bad decision at least we can make a different one later.

Shelby Mendoza? Maybe I'll be craving a little Spanish flair in 10 years?  Shelby Goldstein? I've always loved the Jewish traditions.  Or maybe, I'll remain Shelby Covington for the rest of my life. Either through hard work at keeping our marriage alive & well or because I'm too lazy to change it for my second marriage.

Friday, November 8, 2013

Life Before Kids

My favorite parenting question is: "Ohhhhh, do you even remember life before kids?"


Fuck yes.

Very fondly.

Who are these people kidding? They are going to sit there and tell me that they don't remember the days when they talked to their partner about something other than whether the baby shit today or not?  And speaking of shit, they can't remember when they use to be able to take a shit alone? That they can't remember sleeping in and eating lunch in bed? They can't remember a random mid-afternoon make-out session on a lazy Sunday? Or when they actually got to go out and eat sushi and not just talk about eating sushi?

After 3 1/2 years of pondering this stupid question I have come to the conclusion that these people- the "I don't remember life before kids" people never a had a life to begin with and that is why they can't remember it. I, for one, had a life. A great one. I remember going over to my girlfriend's house weekly and drinking the BIG bottles of wine. I remember meeting our friends for happy hour. I remember not having to run to the grocery store at night because we are out of milk. I remember shopping all day Saturday. I remember being able to work late with no guilt.  And, I remember when my stomach didn't look like a feral cat boxing match happened on it. Oh, I remember...

I love my kids and my new life. With that said, having kids didn't cause brain damage resulting in a memory lapse of my kid-free life. Get real, people. Life can be good then and long as there are still BIG bottles of wine to be had.

Thursday, November 7, 2013

MILF on the Shelf

I saw a blog post from People I want to Punch in the Throat about Elf on the Shelf. The blog post is hilarious about her disdain towards all things Elf on a Shelf especially about their new product- "Elf on the Shelf Birthday Elf".

We don't do Elf on the Shelf and we wouldn't jump on their band wagon of other Elf propaganda.

She goes on to list other hilarious Elf on the Shelf ideas...which got me to thinking....

MILF on a Shelf.

Could be a great way to get  your husband to do his honey do's around the holidays.  The MILF on the shelf is always watching to make sure that he takes out the trash timely AND replaces the trash bag. He mows the lawn without bitching. He cleans up after he shaves. He happily puts lights on the house. All while MILF is watching. And if he is a good boy then, well, he will be rewarded.... No grunting or eye-rolling. Have no fear, he will not succeed. He will try, and results will be better than normal, but chances of him doing a good enough job to be "rewarded" (this means sex) are slim to none. It's a win, win.

However, there are those men.  So, for those who have husbands that are over-achievers, you can buy:

MILF on a Shelf, Life-Sized Blow-up edition.

This elf is the same as your standard MILF on the Shelf but... wait for it... it is Life-Sized. For those wives who have a higher risk factor of their husbands doing a good enough job- this Elf's for you! So, if your husband is a good boy and deserves to be rewarded he can now have sex with the MILF on the Shelf Life-Sized, Blow-up Doll. Another, win, win.

Who says Christmas traditions are fun!?

Vegetable = Crazy Mom

Sloan, my 3 1/2 year old, was suppose to bring a vegetable to school today because they were going to make soup together as a class. Sounds so simple...

First off, I of course forgot about it until the night before. And, we had been traveling the entire week  so I wasn't stocked up on my normal produce. I didn't have a veggie to spare. Limp Romaine, anyone? I think not. So, I simply needed to pick a vegetable to bring and bring it. That is when picking a vegetable became a big decision.

You could bring canned or fresh. Canned? Oh please, I wasn't going to let anyone think I used canned vegetables. THAT is ridiculous. Tomato? No, too small and lame. Zucchini? No, everyone will bring zucchini. Mushrooms? No, most kids hate mushrooms, she can't be that kid that brought mushrooms. Spinach? Okay, now we are talking. Spinach is full of nutrients and goes great in soups. No one else will bring it. And above all, it will make my precious Sloan look like she comes from a house that having  well balanced diet is of the utmost importance. Spinach it is.

WHAT THE FUCK. Did I really just waste my brain power, strategic thinking, marketing skills and time on picking a vegetable for my 3 1/2 year old to bring to school? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I mean, I'm really not that type of mom... or am I?

Needless to say, bringing a vegetable to school made me realize I am fucking crazy. I am turning into a Helicopter Mom. Oh, hell no. Hell no! I will not be one. I refuse. I re-fucking-use. Lesson learned.

Next time I have to bring a vegetable to school it is store-brand, canned cauliflower!!!

Ha! That will show them! That will show... me?  Fuck, I'm still over thinking it.

We will skip school that day.

Tuesday, November 5, 2013

First Blog Post....

I mean, I sit here and I am contemplating what my first real blog should be, on this new journey that I feel like I should take.
Should it be a brief bio about me? Sounds like a turn off. Should it be why I am doing this? I have no fucking idea. Should it be the best parenting story I’ve ever had? Can’t think of ANY right now. Should it be about how much I love my kids? Well, I don’t right this second. Should it be about how my story will enhance your daily life? Doubtful.
I don’t know where to start. So, I will start with my favorite knock, knock joke.
"What do you call a line of rabbits walking backwards?"
'A Receding Hare line.”
It’s my go-to. Don’t judge me for it. If it makes you feel any better, I think the world punished me for this being my go-to joke for so many years. My husband is bald. Very, very bald. 
I’ll be around sharing my story, my jokes and fodder about my life, kids, marriage and drinking. Ranting and raving, all while being too honest and cussing a fucking lot. If it sounds like fun, please join me. 
Feel free to follow me on Twitter or like my facebook
The biggest motherfodder of them all.