Saturday, April 24, 2010

Give Away on Misadventures of Baby Raising Blog!

Want to see a world class blogger and have a chance to win a copy of season 1 of the Real Housewives of New Jersey? Check out my dear friend Allie's blog, Misadventures of Babyraising on blogspot!(Sorry about the lack of a hyperlink. For some reason blogspot hates me and will not post them for me. Ugh!) You do have my word of honor that you will be glad you checked this out! And I will also bet you will want to hang out at her blog for awhile. I don't know how she does it. She has four kids, a husband, goes to school, and has a kick butt blog! I am proud to call her my friend! As much as I love to lead folks astray (wink), I promise you won't be disappointed with this blog!

Friday, April 23, 2010

Why Women Are Crabby

This was an email that was forwarded to me and I thought it was so funny, I had to share with all my misbehaved bloggy friends!

We started to 'bud' in our blouses at 9 or 10 years old only to find that
anything that came in contact with those tender, blooming buds hurt so bad
it brought us to tears. So came the ridiculously uncomfortable training bra
contraption that the boys in school would snap until we had calluses on our

Next, we get our periods in our early to mid-teens (or sooner). Along with
those budding boobs, we bloated, we cramped, we got the hormone crankies,
had to wear little mattresses between our legs or insert tubular, packed
cotton rods in places we didn't even know we had.

Our next little rite of passage was having sex for the first time which was
about as much fun as having a ramrod push your uterus through your nostrils
(IF he did it right and didn't end up with his little cart before his
horse), leaving us to wonder what all the fuss was about.

Then it was off to Motherhood where we learned to live on dry crackers and
water for a few months so we didn't spend the entire day leaning over
Brother John. Of course, amazing creatures that we are (and we are), we
learned to live with the growing little angels inside us steadily kicking
our innards night and day making us wonder if we were preparing to have
Rosemary's Baby.

Our once flat bellies looked like we swallowed a whole watermelon and we
pee'd our pants every time we sneezed. When the big moment arrived, the dam
in our blessed Nether Regions invariably burst right in the middle of the
mall and we had to waddle, with our big cartoon feet, moaning in pain all
the way to the ER.

Then it was huff and puff and beg to die while the OB says, 'Please stop
screaming, Mrs. Hearmeroar. Calm down and push. 'Just one more good push'
(more like 10), warranting a strong, well-deserved impulse to punch the
%$#*@*#!* hubby and doctor square in the nose for making us cram a wiggling,
mushroom-headed 10 pound bowling ball through a keyhole.

After that, it was time to raise those angels only to find that when all
that 'cute' wears off, the beautiful little darlings morphed into walking,
jabbering, wet, gooey, snot-blowing, life-sucking little poop machines.

Then come their 'Teen Years.' Need I say more?

When the kids are almost grown, we women hit our voracious sexual prime in
our early 40's - while hubby had his somewhere around his 18th birthday.

So we progress into the grand finale: 'The Menopause,' the Grandmother of
all womanhood. It's either take HRT and chance cancer in those now seasoned
'buds' or the aforementioned Nether Regions, or, sweat like a hog in July,
wash your sheets and pillowcases daily and bite the head off anything that

Now, you ask WHY women seem to be more spiteful than men, when men get off
so easy, INCLUDING the icing on life's cake: Being able to pee in the woods
without soaking their socks...

So, while I love being a woman, 'Womanhood' would make the Great Gandhi a
tad crabby.

You think women are the 'weaker sex?' Yeah right. Bite me!

Tuesday, April 20, 2010

Confessions of a Wild Soccer Mom

Got your attention, didn't I? That was easy (evil laugh). You know, I am thinking maybe I should rename my blog to the title of this post. What do you think? Of course, they are very similar in nature.... and Well Behaved Women Rarely Make History is my favorite saying. Hmmmm... think I will keep it. Now to what this post is really about. My confession (for today) is that I have become lame and I hate it! Gone are the days that I decide on a Friday night that right after work I am driving four hours to a bigger city for a little fun with my friends. Just a few years ago I was the one one dancing on the table dancing with the bride. Just a few years ago I was dancing on the table at the office luau. Okay, you're seeing the trend, right? I have always been the type person who gets a natural high at parties with friends. I thrive on it. Give me two to twenty beers and it only intensifies. I see myself changing and not sure if I like it. I have an opportunity to hang out with some FUN young ladies for a bachelorette party in Chicago. Do you know what a compliment that is? For a group of young, fun girls to WANT to hang out with a wild soccer mom? And I don't feel like going! What the hell is wrong with me? I miss my "old" self. Now I am just feeling old. This "girl gone wild" has gone lame.

Friday, April 9, 2010

Well Hello There!

WOW! Can't think of a better word to describe my reaction to my last post. I was "gone" for a month and came back to find a record amount of comments! Thanks to all who posted! I must say that was one of my best posts, not because I was profoundly brilliant or wrote a kick @$$ entry. It is one of my favorites because YOU took the time to reply and tell me who you are, how you found me, and where you are from. I have had a really crappy week, so please accept my genuine "THANK YOU" for the warm fuzzy you gave me. Seems like the simplest things in life are the ones that mean the most. I look forward to lurking on your blogs as well and will make sure I let you know I was there. Some of you even choose to follow me. I am not worthy, but am thrilled to have you on board my crazy train!

I had several comments about the title of my blog. It does not surprise me at all. Wish I could claim to be the brilliant person that originally came up with this saying. I may be misbehaved,but pretty darn honest. Yes, that's it, I am an honset thief! I stole the saying and cannot remember where I stole it from! Actually it was from a funny book I read. Being the scattered brain blonde I am, I cannot remember the name of the book. But when I saw the saying in the book, I totally embraced it. Growing up, I was called the "wild child" of the family. Now I am called a "soccer mom". I don't think I am either. I like to ride motorcycles, drink beer, martinis, and wine and have a good time with friends. But I also like to go to my son's football games (and I am the loudest parent out there!), hang out at home on the computer, and read. In other words I am boring. But yet, I am the life of the party. So what does that make me? A wild soccer mom? Hmmmm, I may be on to something! See you in the history books...........