A poem, by Mean Mommy

I just took a look at Google Analytics (which I never do, cause I totally don't care how many readers I have) and decided to check out which keyword searches have lead internetters to Mean Mommy. And reading through these keywords, I realized they tell the story of my life, in a vaguely poetic, essential kind of way.

So today, I thought I'd share my life...in a poem:

My Life in Keywords*

do you know the mommy game?

accidentally put baby's head in ceiling fan
baby fell and hit cheek
3 month old baby falls on tile floor
feeling guilty toddler bruise

nasty mean mommy

how well you know the mommy
20 and have gray hairs
crazy requests at McDonalds
italian bon bons

wild, mean and squeaky clean

outgrowing a mullet
waking to a bat in my room
losing teeth in my dreams

why are mothers so mean?
my children are driving me crazy

(*yes, these are actual keyword searches that have lead readers here. Blush.)

August is the cruelest month

Some say it's April. But no.

August means temperatures in the 90s every day; insufferable humidity; a tighter budget (I get paid on a 10 month schedule); the start of the fall semester; astronomical electric bills; swarms of mosquitoes in our yard; and no vacations or holidays.

The older kids are 3 weeks into school and just starting to complain about homework and waking up early. Mitch is stir crazy, particularly with his partner in crime away at school all day, and is getting into all kinds of mischief. He's totally sick of me and asks every single day when school starts (not til September for him, helpmeJesus).

It's too hot to play outside, too boring to stay inside, and we're running out of ideas. And patience. Especially me...my patience is all but depleted, and I've become a sweaty, frizzy-haired, ponytail wearing, tank top sporting superbitch of a mother.

I can stand nothing but silence. If the children are doing anything but sitting quietly, my nerves get jangled. The noise, noise, noise is more than I can take on top of the cabin fever and the suffocating heat. And Owen and Mitch are the kings of silly lately, with all of these inside jokes that make sense to no one else but send them into convulsions of laughter, laughter which escalates into hilarity, which leads to Mitch leaping gleefully onto Owen and knocking him to the ground, which turns into someone getting hurt, which becomes a fight, which ends in tattling and tears and yelling, and people getting sent to their rooms. And when they come out of their rooms, it starts all over again.

And it's only August 2nd.

If you insist

I've had several (2) complaints over the past week about the lack of new posts here at MM. Well, our lives have been exceedingly boring, and I haven't been thinking about anything interesting at all, so what...do you want me to be one of those blow-by-blow bloggers who write about the minutia of their daily lives? Who discuss what was had for breakfast, lunch, and dinner?

Actually, If I am going to update, it will have to be minutia, for truly nothing more has happened.
A few minutii (the singular of minutia?):

Owen started first grade. This may not seem mundane to you, but the move to first grade has been taken very much in stride by my first born. His favorite things about 1st grade so far: no naptime, real desks, and his new pal James.

We still have overdue library books. The librarian actually gasped when she tallied our fines. Luckily they can't charge more than $10 to clear your tarnished name.

We freakin' love Blue Bunny Cookie Dough ice cream. So much that we ate (as a 6 person family, mind you) an entire half gallon container in one day. Well...maybe the babysitter had some.

We saw The Dark Knight. And you know how when there's lots of hype about something it never ends up being as good as you hoped it would be? Well Heath Ledger lives up to the hype. I was shocked actually.

Paige strung three words together for the first time, and the phrase she uttered is one of my least favorites: "One more time!"

John perfected his butter/wine/lemon sauce. And we've been eating it on everything.

I'm getting fatter. See entries 3 and 6.

I cleaned the van. Because if you're in carpool line and trash falls out of the car when you open the door, it's way embarrassing.

I've been sewing my ass off. Which is hard because you totally need an ass if you're going to sit at a sewing machine.

Mitch has been prattling on and on all the live long day. Talking without ceasing and actually demanding my full attention as he does so. It's hard. So hard.

So there you have it, a slice of our boring lives and my flatlined mind. I think it's the heat that's made us sluggish. Perhaps I'll have more insightful things to say next time. But I do, after all, have to save some insight for Momformation since they, like, pay me. So if you truly need a fix o' the Mean Mommy, you can always check out what I have to say over there.