muffins

On Friday morning, I woke up to Collin screaming in my face, “Wake up! It’s Moms and Muffins day! Wake up! Wake up! I said, MOMS AND MUUUUFFFINSS!”

Holy shit Oprah, put the bugle down and back the hell up.

Later that afternoon, while driving Ana to a “drop-off” birthday party (hell, yeah!), I received the following email…

After I finished pissing my pants, I gave her a buzz.

They were in the midst of considering a segment, and wanted to know if I’d like to come up to NYC on Tuesday and be on the show as part of a “moms” panel. They were looking for funny moms that “tell it like it is”. A little voice in my head said “Oh, you’ll ‘tell it like it is’ alright, and this will end with you writing personal apology letters to all of your friends & family.” But I told that little voice to shut up, this was Bethenny!

You guys would have been so proud, I played it totally cool on the phone with phrases like “That sounds great”, “Sure, Id love to”, and “No problemo” (ok, not so proud of that last phrase).

I’m honestly not sure how I managed to talk AND hold down my vomit.

I was so excited at the idea of meeting Bethenny! I was equally excited to spend a night in a hotel alone, not to mention someone else doing my hair and makeup the next morning! I was kinda hoping they’d have someone to shave my legs for me too, but I wasn’t sure how to ask.

Sadly, I received an email later that day that the segment had been cut. But the producer said she hoped to keep in touch and work with me in the future! You know what that means?! I have more time to lose those damn 15 pounds before the camera adds 10! Wait…do you think they say that to everyone? Nah.

I’m totally sending Bethenny a Beaver Baby.

On Saturday, we went to our neighborhood Pig Roast. But before leaving the house, I explained to the kids that we wouldn’t be eating the pig because its whole body (with head) would be on display. “It’s so sad and barbaric!” I cried. Then I explained the definition of a hypocrite as I finished my Bacon, Egg, & Cheese sandwich with a side of ham. If I’m anything, it’s self-aware.

The Pig Roast is always a great time. There’s a moonbounce, music, food, drinks, games, face painting…

Some things change while others stay the same.

My little girl is growing up…to be deceitful.

The “Wrecking Ball” thingamajig was new this year. When I first saw it, I thought it looked pretty dangerous…

but 3 glasses of Chardonnay & 20 sugar cookies later, here we were…

She was scrappy but I still managed to take her down.

On Sunday, we took Collin to Flag football practice. If you’ve read the last two “Weekend in Crappy Pics”, you know that Ana has attached herself like a “parasite” to a “host” family during these practices…like a tick to a dog…or a tapeworm to intestines. Who knows how they think of her.

When we arrived yesterday, I saw Ana’s other mother sitting across the field, under a tree. She must have sensed us heading her way because she looked up, and when our eyes met, I immediately recognized the survivalist flight instinct (I see it in the mirror everyday).

“Shhh, Ana. Move veerrry slowly, we don’t want to scare her.”

The phrase ‘It’s more afraid of us than we are of it’ was probably never more appropriate.

Not one to listen, Ana started running full force across the field, arms flailing, lungs screaming. She reminded me of one those reunions shows, where both parties run towards each other, ready to slam into an emotional embrace, only Ana’s family ran behind a tree and completely disappeared. DISAPPEARED! POOF! How? I need to learn that trick.

I had to explain to her that they didn’t want her anymore and that it probably had something to do with her torturing their dog, Grumbles. She was a little hurt and a lot pissed but she calmed down by pulling out her My Little Pony and combing its hair with my new toothbrush.

On the way back to the car, she pulled on my arm and whispered “Look mom, a little pet is sleeping. Shhh. Can we take a picture of him? He’s so cute!”

What is that?