Nobody nose the trouble I’ve seen.

This week was a humdinger with glorious, extended childhood illness and possible broken noses and forgetting my Grandmother’s birthday because I’m a real swell gal. It was also about 4 degrees all week which made things that much more tolerable because I’ve always wanted to lose several toes to frostbite. There were good points too. I’m thinking. I’m thinking.

I’ve spent more time on WebMD than I care to admit. And I’m pretty sure we all have rabies…or strep…or, the common cold. It’s too close to call. Instead of going to an actual doctor I’m going to continue to ask the internet for answers.

When our 2 year old, Evel Knievel, fell off the glider today (whilst under attentive parental supervision; calm down, the internet.), we did call the actual doctor because of all the blood and, OHmyGOD the nose that looked like Rocky 4. Yeah, the one with the Russian.

But, doctors aren’t generally as helpful as the internet. This one told us to stop screaming and to take a deep breath and to wait for the swelling to go down and to wait to bring her in. You want me to wait? Never you mind, practicing licensed professional, I’ll go consult the internet. So, my baby might have a broken nose or, Allergic Rhinitis OR there’s a Lego up there forming a new nasal cavity. Thank you, WebMD, I feel much better now. On top of that is my suspicion that when I bring her in tomorrow with a giant, swollen nose and a wilting 3 year old doing her best impression of a sack of wet, sick cats, I’m pretty sure I’ll need to use my one phone call from prison to find more bail money. Do they take Box Tops?

I feel particularly guilty about all of this because yesterday I couldn’t stand the lot of them. I was over the runny noses and the feverish whining for popsicles we didn’t have and my reservoir of mother’s sympathy had turned from Florence Nightingale to Nurse Ratched. It’s been a long winter and the tunnel to Spring looked as dark and scary as my birth canal.

So, I fled the house leaving a trail of dust from the bra I hadn’t bothered to put on in weeks. After some cheese dip, two margaritas and conversation with someone tall enough to ride all the rides, I felt like a new woman. I came home ready to care about people again; feeling great because I no longer felt like a sociopath. Thank you, Tequila.

I guess there is no real moral to this week’s story except that when you try extra hard to correct all of the things you feel guilty about, one of two things inevitably happens; everything gets better or, it gets worse.

1) I called my grandmother to apologize for being 10 and forgetting her birthday. Just as I was about to get out my heartfelt apology, my husband came running in with Rocky Balboa. I shouted into the phone, “OH SHIT! I HAVE TO GO.” and, I hung up on her. Happy Birthday, Grandma.

2) I made cookies for the kids so they would remember that in addition to being an evil, unsympathetic shrew, I also make delicious cookies. I left the cookies in the oven and now the raccoons eating their charred remains will surely die of cancer.

3) When I went out with my friend, I started crying when I bit into a chimichanga that tasted like one I once had in a strip mall in Los Angeles. For a good time call…someone other than me.

4) No good deed goes unpunished and no bad deed does either. So basically, just pull up a chair and address all prison mail to me as follows: BPM aka B-Shank.

Until next week or, until my bail hearing, this is Bad Parenting Moments saying, “Hey there warrior, you’re doing a better job than I am. That may not be saying much, but, congratulations all the same.”


  1. How are you so hilariously brilliant? Loved every word of this!

  2. Oh how I love you tonight! Thanks for the laughs as I quietly await flu death in my bedroom while the kids bring the house down around us! You are not alone!!!

  3. The cookies? So me, for both the reason and the outcome. At least we try, right?

  4. T-Bone Mama says:

    Good thing you survived! Sounds like nothing a good bottle of wine (or 2) can’t fix… and send one to grandma! Ya know since you had to hang up on her.

    • My poor Grandma. She lives through 90 years just to have her granddaughter hang up on her. Yes, I’ll send her wine. After two glasses she’ll have forgotten all about it.

  5. I love all of this! “Sack of wet, sick cats”- my 5 yr olds new nickname. Thanks for the laughs. I always adore your stuff!

  6. Okay, seriously, that just made me snort out loud, like 4 different times. Hilarious. Can totally relate. We all currently have a stomach virus. I feel like Jean Grey in X-Men where all the crap is floating around her and she causally walks thru oblivious to the scene around her.

  7. Thank you for making my day!!!

  8. I didn’t laugh. I swear.

  9. Um, at least no one punched Grandma, right? Signed, For A Good Time Ask Me How It Could Be Worse (P.S. I can’t believe I don’t already call you B-shank. I really dropped the nickname ball on that one.)

  10. Thank you!! You have no idea how much I needed a little levity right now. I have been you SO many times – minus the cookies, because we all know better – Mom WILL burn the cookies. My kiddo’s are all old enough now that they can *almost* make the cookies themselves, but still we have had the extended period of “whiny sick I need you mom and only you mom” and I feel myself teetering on the edge as we face another no school day today – semester break. WT??! – So, thank you!!! For keeping it real!

  11. I’m so glad tequila isn’t regulated as a drug.
    In addition to boosting your sads, it’s also great lady Viagra.

  12. We had an awful nose incident here as well. My four year old tripped over a riding toy and fell on her face. The school tried to call me, but didn’t dial the right number, so they sent her, bleeding, home with the babysitter. The babysitter texted me a picture and I almost fainted! She had a huge, bloody blob of a nose, bruises on her cheek and a lump on her head that just glovwed “Concussion!” I left work and called the doc as I was driving to get her. No appointments. So, I brought her to a school nurse even though her teacher said a Dad who is an EMT looked at it. She said to wait for the swelling to go down before going to a doc. She’s fine now although her giant scab came off at the babysitter’s and has not been found. Gross! And, for the record, I did offer to hunt down the offending scab, but the babysitter said it was ok.
    Now, prepare yourself for the stares and questions while grocery shopping. At least a dozen people asked my daughter what happened to her face. These were complete strangers! Mostly men asked, the women just glared at me. I was going to wear a sign that said “I didn’t do it!”
    I’m glad you had time to talk to a grown-up.

  13. C.Herrington says:

    OMG I share your pain. Me and my youngest have been sick for days! On top of everything, I decided to babysit and today my 2 year old and the babysitting toddler decided to team up against me and wreck my day. I mean really wreck my day. Here’s to hoping that all of our days are better tomorrow.

  14. I am the sack of wet, sick cats over here, so will you come burn me some cookies, please?

  15. So funny! I always, always, always laugh out loud whenever I read your blog. Brilliant post yet again!

  16. Hey, I am up to my armpits in Boxtops over here, so when they lock you up in the pokey – give me a ring and then make sure to yell curse words into my old ears!

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