Dear Wacky Mommy:

Signed,
Pizza Mom

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Am writing lovely fluffy freelance article about lovely fluffy place. Will be paid Real Money. Am thrilled. Am also working on third draft (3rd) of my novel. It will sell someday, I must keep believing this. Cuz with the bronchitis, and the unexplainable female hormone craziness (perimenopause? WTF?) the crazy children, and the damp, moldy, wet, disgusting Oregon weather that STAYS LIKE THIS FOR CLOSE TO TEN (10) MONTHS OUT OF THE YEAR JESUS GOD WHY DO WE LIVE IN THIS RAINBELT?

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“Eating chocolate is like being in love without the aggravation.”

— anon.

Now, go break into the Halloween candy early! You have my permission. Wacky Boy is going as a pirate. Or a bumblebee. Or a witch. He can’t decide. Wacky Girl is going dressed in that scary as hell skeleton costume that’s so popular at the Halloween Superstore. The one from the movie “Scream”? Yeah, that’s the one. Jesus. She even scares me in it.

I am not volunteering at WG’s class Halloween party tomorrow. Still bronchial, but fever is gone. No pneumonia! (That’s an order.) Wacky Grandma has kindly volunteered to make egg carton spiders and help with the sugar cooky decorating. God love the woman she’s a saint. Especially for putting up with my Wackiness lo these many years.

Have you seen “Wallace & Gromit: The Curse of the WereRabbit” yet? It’s funny as hell. We all loved it, especially Wacky Grandma. Happy Halloweeeeeeeeeeeeen everyone!

xoxx

WM

“If it’s not an ass it’s an elbow.”

— anon.

We have a saying in our house, courtesy of author Sheila Ballantyne. Her 1975 classic, “Norma Jean the Termite Queen,” is a must-read for all Wacky Mommies. I mean it. Go buy a copy today. Norma Jean has a tantrummer living with her, Damon, and she tells him he needs to tell the Wild Thing inside him to calm down.

He tells the Wild Thing to calm down or he’ll kick its ass.

Wacky Girl, something of a Damon herself, now says, “Don’t calm down, Wild Thing,” thus extending her time-out.

Am trying, myself, to calm down. Am having bout of bronchitis and unable to drink alcohol or eat chocolate as usual. Will blog more later about idiot chocolatiers (is that a word?) and my inability to switch to decaf coffee. Or exercise. Triple blech.

How is life with you, dear readers? I know you’re lurking, but only a couple of you post… The more posts the merrier, I say.

love,

WM, Mother of Wild Things

a moment of silence, please, for Ms. Rosa Parks. Thanks for not taking anyone’s shit. ROSA WE LOVE YOU!

WM and Friends

WM sends big kisses and hugs to Wacky Mommy A, who had appendicitis (which the doctors misdiagnosed as “flu” for 24 hours — WTF????), followed by a collapsed lung?&!#$%&! Again — WTF?

Honestly, some mommies will do anything to get out of taking care of their three small children + niece + dog + cat + various contractors and responsibilities.

Please send good vibes her way, Wacky Mommies and Daddies.

WM

If you wish to be happy for one hour, get drunk.
If you wish to be happy for three days, get married.
If you wish to be happy for a month, kill your pig and eat it.
If you wish to be happy forever, learn to fish.
— Chinese Proverb

So last night I’m making dinner — homemade mac and cheese, a zucchini/tomato/garlic and onion saute, just a nice little meal, and WB tells me, “You are the kind of bad mommy who never feeds her kids.”

In case you were wondering.

ttfn, off to gamble and drink,

WM

“No more blah, blah, blah!”
— Kirk, “Miri”, stardate 2713.6