The No Good, Very Bad, Awful, Horrendous, Stupid, Crappy, Terrible, Miserable, Agonizing, Dreadful Day

Tweet Yes, a bit melodramatic, but it felt good to say. In the true spirit of keeping it real (that is what we do here at N.B.M., after all) I am going to tell you about the day I had yesterday. It was probably not the worst day of my life, but it feels like it. You get a lot of these days being a mama, but as a mama you do what you gotta do- you soldier on.
I noticed the Spawn being unusually rotten yesterday morning. By 11 am we already had screaming (by all) and time-outs in respective Spawn rooms. Not Blessed Aunt came over and noticing the generally hostile state of things, took Spawn to Grandma's house to swim. A very nice gesture, it gave me a little bit of time to get out Spawn#3's scrapbook and start to work on it. Yup, start to work on it- he's 3 and it was empty. The poor 3rd child. Things were going well until the panicked phone call from Grandma came- Spawn#3 had hit his poor, small, sweet head on a table corner and probably needed stitches. I shoved my own panic aside and raced to get my little Spawn. He was in Grandpa's arms, with a gash on his forehead about 3/4 an inch long. I would like to note here that Spawn#3's only two awful injuries and ER trip's were Grandpa-related. Accidents happen, but I'm just sayin'. A few hours later we were home with a couple stitches and my brave Spawn#3 was basically back to normal.
Well, a pretty crummy, awful day, wasn't it? If only that had been it! When we were finally home, I saw down on the couch to relax with a piece of pizza and a wine spritzer (ok, it was Arbor Mist cut with Shasta Lemon-Lime. Don't judge me!) and I had this feeling about Spawn#3. He was no where in sight, and quiet. I went into the bathroom and Spawn#3 took off running- because he had...... wait for it....... filled the toilet bowl with popsicle sticks, glitter, a few pounds of beads and some small plastic toys. I called N.B.Aunt feebly ("I need help!") and out of the goodness of her heart, she stuck her arm in to fish out as much of the toilet party as possible. Later she told me that when she found me laying facedown on the bed, she was worried I was getting close to offing myself. I was.
Meanwhile........ Spawn#1 was in the other bathroom and Spawn#2 went to change her clothes. Hearing a bloodcurdling scream come from her room, we ran to find her with poop all over her dress. She ran into the bathroom in hysterics, leaving a nice trail of waste where ever she stepped. Seems Spawn#3 needed to go while the other toilets were occupied, and his sister's room was the perfect spot. So to finish off this FREAKIN' AWESOME day, I got to scrub up some poop.
This was the point when I really began questioning my sanity and how much longer it would hold.
N.B.Daddy called at this point to do a webcam chat with the Spawn, so after some fighting over the laptop and Spawn#3 removing his bandage (sending Spawn#2 into hysterics again), I ushered the Spawn into bed. When they were all l laying down, I told them that I loved them- and that tomorrow would be better. "How do you know?" asked Spawn#2. I just did. Because when you're a mama, you do what you gotta do- you soldier on.

Yes

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Yes, this picture is real (don't you think Not Blessed Mama would vacuum first if she was going to photoshop a picture?). Yes, that is a mad face that 9 year old Spawn#1 drew on the carpet. Yes, he drew it because he was mad at me. Yes, I did want to strangle him. Yes, I did laugh after I left the room. Yes, N.B.Daddy laughed when he saw the picture. Yes, Spawn#1 scrubbed it out of the carpet with some Spray'N Wash. Yes, we moved on. The End.

Husbands

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Are you married, my dear mama friends? Do you have a partner, or significant other? I do. It has almost been ten years that we've enjoyed our wedded bliss. But I'm really sorry to say, I don't think we'll make it to ten. I think that my wonderful, adoring husband is going to have a very terrible accident before then. I think it might happen on a sunny Saturday, maybe one just like today. I think that I may attempt to drag him to Ikea, where he agreed to go, and I imagine that he will be the hugest pain in the ass possible. I'm thinking he might even be worse than dragging all three Spawn along. I think I might even regret leaving the Spawn with Grandma, and wasting my babysitting time dragging my crabby husband around Ikea where he complains and gripes about everything. I'm guessing that even though I threaten him with domestic violence in the store, he still won't quit being a creep. I don't know, this is all purely theoretical, you know. I'm just thinking that finally out of desperation I may just grab my purse out of my full basket and attempt to leave him in the store. I wonder if on the way home he might recline his seat and complain about walking around the store with his sore back, and I wonder if steam might blow out of my ears at the murderous rage I'm feeling. I wonder if he might be so self-centered that he won't even notice the charming shade of purple that my face is turning. I wonder if he could even guess how I might start thinking that if I speed up and turn sharp enough, maybe I can get his side of the car to hit a tree, and eject him into outer space. Or Mexico. Mind you, I don't even know if any of this could ever happen. I'm just thinking that maybe, after drinking a Mike's Hard Pomegranate Lemonade, I might start hatching up a plan that involves rope, the wee hours of the morning, and the trunk of a car. I don't know, I'm just saying I'm wondering......

The Cheesecake Factory

Tweet I can't stop day-dreaming about a recent visit some mama friends and I made to The Cheesecake Factory. For some reason, it was only recently that I fell under the spell of TCF- I'm always the last to join the trends. I had actually been once before, maybe to a free cheesecake day? It was good, but for some reason I have slowly been losing my taste for cheesecake- which is odd, given I have an insane sweet tooth. So I wasn't too thrilled about going to TCF, but it was conveniently located. The menu is like a spiral bound notebook- it's huge! They even had a separate binder for nutrition information, which I knew not to look at from those irritating Eat This, Not That Yahoo articles I click on out of boredom. There were so many menu options, I had no idea what to choose and was getting perturbed- who needs 200 varieties of cheesecake anyway? Cheesecake with peanut butter cups and fudge, cheesecake with caramel and macadamias, cheesecake with earthworms and a garden hose. I finally spotted the strawberry shortcake, which sounded good, and picked the fried zucchini as a "small plate" appetizer to share (at a reasonably priced $4). My friend got cheesecake with Snickers bars and fishnet stockings, or something like that.
Oh.My.God. That strawberry shortcake was possibly the best thing I have ever eaten in my life. It was huuuuuge. The bottom shortcake was swimming in a pool of sweet strawberry juices and sucking up all that gooey goodness like a sponge. Vanilla ice cream was sandwiched between the cakes, adding a cold and creamy contrast. There was probably a pound of strawberries swimming around, and a huge dollop of whipped cream on top of it all- and it's listed as having a figure-friendly 1,000+ calories. I kid you not. I didn't eat the whole thing- I would have, if I could have, but I didn't feel like passing out in the parking lot on the way to my car (I had a dress on). And let's not forget the fried zucchini- crispy, tasty small spears with a tangy, smooth ranch dipping sauce- they were excellent, and a fairly sized portion too.
So, in other words: Cheesecake Factory, I love you. I am thinking about applying for a bussing job there so I can eat all the leftover food. I can't wait to go back.
Disclaimer: I must tell you that TCF has NOT paid me for this review, nor provided me with any of their fattening, delicious food. And really, I think that's a shame, since I gave them such a glowing commendation. Cheescake Factory, are you reading this? I'm free Saturday.

Top 5 Reasons I Refuse to Mop My Floor

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I'm pretty sure I could think up about a hundred reasons why I don't mop my floor. But, I really just don't have the time for that- I'm too busy not mopping my floor! So Not Blessed Mama would like to give you the top five reasons she does not mop the floor.
1. It'll just get dirty again in 5 seconds. And 5 seconds is a generous estimate. Our kitchen is fortunately adjacent to our backyard, so as soon as one of the Spawn walks in, it's over. Our backyard is a vast wasteland of dirt and trees, and our Spawn are some filthy little critters. Generally when a chore lasts longer than the desired result, it is a no-no in my book (i.e. minutes spent shaving legs > minutes spent having relations with hubby).
2. My knee pads are worn out. What is a mop other than a waste of time on a stick? I can think of many enjoyable things that come on sticks- corn dogs, egg rolls at the fair, lollipops. Wigs of string do not belong in that category. Mops do not work. You know you're just going to wind up hot and sweaty on the ground, on your knees- and not in a hawt, sexy way. In a dirty, stinky, exhausted way.
3. What if Brad Pitt knocks on my door? Or my neighbor, mom, AT&T repair-man- or anyone else for that matter. As outlined in #2,
you are going to be scrubbing the floor on your hands and knees, looking a hot mess. I don't really see any point in putting yourself in that un-ladylike position for a clean floor that will immediately be soiled and will destroy your appearance (and odor) in the process.
4. Cleaning products are bad, bad, bad. You may know that Not Blessed Mama loves the environment. Pine-Sol, Mr. Clean, Clorox- these names strike fear in Mother Nature's heart. So, just as you should skip shampoo and soap, skip using yucky cleaners on your kitchen floor and let it return to it's natural state. Dump a wheelbarrow or two full of soil on it and have the Spawn stomp like crazy to create a rustic, historically accurate hearth. The Earth will thank you for it.
5. The fridge and stove will be jealous. This is a hard, simple truth about cleaning- once you start cleaning, you start noticing how dirty everything is. Start scrubbing the floor, notice that the baseboards are grimy. Wipe the baseboards, notice the yogurt dried on the wall. Scrape off the yogurt, notice the top of the backsplash is dusty. Wipe the backsplash, notice behind the microwave is dirty. Wipe the back of the micro, notice the stove knobs are greasy. De-grease the stove knobs, and I will just stop there because I could really go on forever. Since Not Blessed Mama is all about equality, I am willing to sacrifice a clean floor if it means keeping the rest of the appliances happy. Equal opportunity, baby.

Days of the week....

Tweet Tonight I was perusing the internet to see if I could find some common ground, some blogs to enjoy- but I didn't. Why are Mamas' blogs almost always full of adorable pictures of the Spawn, professions of love to their Daddies, and beautifully arranged cooked from scratch meal pictures? Come on! No one ever writes what a Mama's day is really like. But one thing I did discover was day-of-the-week blog entries. Tasty Tuesday, Wordless Wednesday. Well, these are rather bland to N.B.M. and her sophisticated readers, I'm sure. So I now present you with ideas for my future daily blog themes:
Manic Monday- The day when Daddy goes back to work and the kids lose their mind after the stimulating weekend- and when Mama has to try and put the demolished house back together. Seriously, Dads, how can you multiply the mess by such a huge factor?
Tantrum Tuesday- The day when the kids are recovering from Manic Monday but still can't accept no as an answer. Daily life is starting to get back to normal even though tantrums are still increased by roughly 45%.
Whiny Wednesday- The day when your childless friend will call without fail, to complain about work and her busy week. She always manages to ignore the shrieks and explosions in the background, which should really be a signal to her that you are just the tiniest little ittle bit busy.
Thank God it's Thursday- Because tomorrow is Friday, and that means that Daddy will be home for the weekend to take care of the screaming banshees formerly known as your children, and he won't have the "tired from work" card available to play.
Feverish Fridays- The day that your child gets sick, either because you have a very busy weekend or a date night planned. Kids and their germs, ugh. So inconvenient!
Sassafrass Saturday- The day when the Spawn are getting too spoiled by Daddy and his constant "yeses" to go to McDonald's, the toy store, or anywhere else that money could be wasted and chores are out of sight.
Sluggish Sunday- The day when you are exhausted from the busy week and weekend and want to crawl into a hole and sleep for 10 years, so you don't have to look at those 9 loads of laundry that are begging to be processed.
And repeat.

N.B.M. Toy Review: Aqua Sand

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Today Not Blessed Mama would like to do something new and exciting for you, my dear mama friends. As you may know, I have 3 adorable Spawn who are some of the most spoiled creatures in existence. Having said that, a lot of toys come through our doors- some great, some not so great, and some that are purely shite, like AQUA SAND!
Ok, first of all, let's look at the name, shall we? Aqua sand- water and sand. Are these 2 things you really want your kid playing with in your house? Umm, duh, NO! Of course not! From the get go you know this toy is bad news. I want to call the company and see if I can get the number of the guy who invented this, because you know it's some moronic guy who hates women. I will find you, sir!
But my cute little Spawn#2 just had to have it, and she did receive it for her birthday. The set comes with a little tank, a mermaid, the colored sand in squeeze bottles and a little rake tool. All for the bargain price of $20. I think the company paying me $20 to throw it in the trash is more appropriate, but that's just me.
As you can see in the picture, the idea is to make a cute little ocean scene for Miss Too-Much-Makeup Mermaid to reside in. That girl in the photo must be a damn rocket scientist to have made that gorgeous scene. In reality, you can only stack the sand up about an inch, and make a tank of prettily colored little turd shapes. The water starts getting murky after a day, so you can't even display your work of art for long. And then the real joy begins, because you have to get the sand out. You're not going to flush $5 worth of pink sand down the can in this economy, are you? Fortunately a sieve the size of a dime is included, so you can spend 3 hours scooping out grains of sand while cursing Spin Master for making such an idiotic product.
So, to conclude, if you feel like having grains of blue sand permanently ground into your feet and kitchen floor, Aqua Sand is for you! If you are on a budget, go to the park, fill a Ziploc with sand and dump it on your kitchen floor (your kids would probably like that better than Aqua Sand anyway- no frustration). I'm going to have to give this product a rating of 2 thumbs waaaay down- and a warning to that genius Aqua Sand inventor that he is headed the right way for a smack bottom.

Money money money.........

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Today, my dear mama friend, I would like to call your attention to something. Take a look around Not Blessed Mama's blog. What do you see? Flowers, nature, pictures of rotten children? Is it aesthetically pleasing to you? Well, I sure hope so, because guess what. Not Blessed Mama has decided to forgo the (approximately) 1/100 of a cent she would make from you clicking on optional advertisements on this blog. That's right, N.B.M. cares more about you having a pleasurable blog viewing experience than receiving a check for $2.37 from Google. No need to thank me! That's just the kind of mama friend I am. I am willing to go the distance for my readers. All two of you!
Oh, and next time you're on another blog, take a look around. If there are more advertisements than blog posts, you know what's up. I'm just sayin'.....

Going Green

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It's all the rage these days. And let me tell you, Not Blessed Mama does love the Earth. But I've been going green for years- it all started with the birth of my adorable Spawn #1. Look at my metal water bottles- they're all dented and scratched. Look at my re-usable shopping bags- the logos have worn off and they're getting holey. We are leaving this beautiful planet to our children(spawn), how can we not do our best to keep it clean and amazing? So in honor of this gorgeous planet, N.B.M. has a special treat for you today. I am going to share some of my wonderful, earth saving tips- all of which are designed by and for the busy mama! Enjoy!
1. Quit bathing. Ok, ok, settle down. If you can't bear the thought of not bathing, which generally isn't accepted in polite society, simply cut down on bathing. How about a shower every other day? Or, as Not Blessed Mama does, a weekly shower? Think about the gallons and gallons of water you will be saving! Plus the energy from heating that water, and washing those towels. Think about the products you won't be using (shampoo, soap). And last, but definitely not least, think about the massive amount of time you will be saving YOURSELF! You could write a novel with all that time that you would have been shaving your legs. Oh, and you might as well quit bathing your children too- they don't even get BO anyway, so who cares.
2. Quit changing your clothes. Now this one is a good one- one of N.B.M.'s favorite things to do is wear the same clothes, day and night, until the stench becomes unbearable. Well, my partner would call it stench- I call it "Summer Fun Smell". Again, we're saving water and energy here, and time. Folding clothes sucks! How many hours does the average homemaker spend folding laundry in her lifetime? This isn't a scientific guess, but I'm going to have to say about 1,000,000. Screw folding laundry- sleep in your clothes! (This one is also exceptionally well suited for the mama of a newborn, who is utterly exhausted day and night- and also more socially accepted for her.)
3. Don't leave your house. Carbon footprint, emissions, greenhouse gases- we hear how awful these are for our planet all the time. Cars are nasty, stinky, awful (wonderful) things. Instead of schlepping your tired mama ass all over town, why not stay home? If you combine tips 1, 2 and 3, you will have a really excellent day. Make sure to waste a lot of time on the internet and let your kids watch a lot of cartoons so no one goes stir crazy. And don't worry about using that small amount of energy- your carbon footprint is shrinking as we speak from that shower you're not taking!
4. Go hide in a closet. Are you having a bad day, my mama friend? Getting depressed that you can't take a shower, go to Target, cook in a non-stick skillet or let your adorable Spawn play with their Thomas Trains without destroying the planet and ingesting toxic chemicals? Because let's face it, it's true- you can't take a breath these days without destroying something (either the planet, yourself or afore mentioned Spawn). So, the only remedy I see here is to go sit in a closet. Make sure the lights are off. Make sure you haven't cleaned the carpet with toxic chemicals. Make sure there is no non-organic cotton clothing in there. And just sit. Oh yeah, and put the chain on the door first- the Spawn running out in the street isn't going to help anyone.

And there you have it, my dear mama friend! Not Blessed Mama has you on your way to saving the planet, one easy step at a time. You're welcome!

Today is a Beautiful Day

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Today is gorgeous. I hope that my children will remember days like this when they grow up. Unfortunately I'm sure they'll only remember the days where they watched tv all day and didn't get dressed and I yelled at them because I had a headache and was exhausted. Oh well- someone needs to keep all those counselors and psychiatrists and drug companies in business.
We're outside enjoying the sunshine. The kids are splashing in their inflatable pool- Dad is at the BBQ. All I need is a martini and we're keeping up with The Joneses.
Today truly is a wonderful day.

SMKR

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So, it may not be brilliant of me to plug another website in my first official blog post. But I don't recall claiming to be brilliant, only real! So, my dear mama friend, have you yet stumbled upon www.shitmykidsruined.com? If you haven't, I highly suggest it! A mama friend brought it to my attention, but I must say in a disappointing manner- she was condemning it! She was questioning where the parents were of the kids who were ruining shit. She chided SMKR for featuring pictures of dangerous activities- children being covered in diaper rash cream, for one. Let me tell you, my kids being covered in diaper rash cream is a situation I would prefer to about 1,000 other ones I can think of. And what kids don't ruin shit on occasion? If your kids have never ruined any shit, I have some advice for you. 1. Take your children's pulse to make sure they are alive. 2. Confirm that you are not in an institution for the criminally insane and only imagining you have children. I mean, get real! It's in a child's nature to be inquisitive, explore, and learn. So spilling paint on the floor is just ruining shit to you- to your child it is a fun, fascinating sensory experience. All mamas must turn their backs for a moment- don't you shower? Check e-mail during daylight hours? Do you dare to avert your eyes from little Timmy for 5 minutes while you chop vegetables for dinner? Of course you must! You know Not Blessed Mama does. And that's why Not Blessed Mama's spawn have ruined plenty of shit, and why she thinks the site is ab-so-lutely freaking HILARIOUS And guess what else- Not Blessed Mama is not alone, because SMKR has 44,701 people liking their Facebook page as of this moment. The only thing I regret is that I never grab my camera when my Spawn ruin shit- I simply do my best not to strangle the Spawn, and clean up the shit. And just today I had the perfect opportunity for a SMKR picture. Spawn#2 runs in the house, yelling that Spawn#3 was pooping in the backyard. Not a huge surprise- he's 3. The surprise was the shit itself- so artfully decorated with rocks and sticks stuck into it, it looked like a nature craft project gone horribly wrong. If only..... you'll have to make do with a pretty mild SMKR pic of Spawn#1 and #2, only ruining their appearance and possibly the neighbors opinion of me (which let's face it, is most likely shit already)...

Introduction

Tweet Welcome, dear mama friend, to the Not Blessed Mama blog. You may be wondering about my unusual blog title. You may be assuming I am some crazy/delusional/ungrateful mother. You may be feeling sorry for my children. You may be wondering why you are still reading. Well, let me enlighten you. There are a million parenting blogs out there, many written by moms. Generally they gush about how great it is to be a parent. How perfect life is, even with its little trials and tribulations. I read boastful blogs about handmade matching pajamas for the kids and baking vegan banana walnut bread from scratch. Well, I have one question for those mamas: Where are your children??? Do I leave my children alone while I do things? Of course! But I wouldn't even have time to get my sewing machine out of the closet before the kids needed me for something. And cooking from scratch.... yeah, right. I'm happy when the kids are fed and it's something other than Doritos.
So Not Blessed Mama was born. It's a real blog, for a real mom, living a real life. Parenting is hard. Kids are challenging. Housework is never ending. Do I love and cherish my children? Hells Yes, Not Blessed Mama does. There is nothing in the world that comes before my children. That's why I'm writing about them, and us, and this crazy, wonderful, chaotic, insane, glorious, awful and amazing life we lead.
I have 3 beautiful/evil children/spawn. I am going to attempt to keep this blog anonymous, so they will not hate me when (if) they read it. Spawn#1 is my big boy, born in 2001 and growing like an incredibly sassy weed. Spawn#2 is the cute but uncontrollable princess, born in 2004. And Spawn#3 defies description, he is so utterly breath takingly adorable and terrible in the same instant, my baby boy born in 2007. As for me, I have always been a stay at home mom. I couldn't bear to trust anyone else with my precious spawn. We un-school and try to live a natural lifestyle, enjoying nature but McDonald's too.
And that is Not Blessed Mama (and spawn) in a nutshell. I hope that you are a kindred spirit and we can enjoy our miserable/awesome lives together.