What the heyyyylll is going on around here? We go to dinner last night as part of a sting operation which I’m scared to blog about because certain people might read it. I’ll try and meditate on this, have a cocktail and give you the gist. Anyway, we get home at like 11 and 2 seconds later my 4 year old is up. “Hi Mama!!” Hugh? The 15 year old is up, he’s making airplanes or something. I can already see where this is going. The 4 year old, my precious, precious, adorable Stanley who could care less about his mother until he wants to climb in my bed, has decided it’s play time. Then Coco gets up (almost 22 months.) “Mama!!” Are you freakin’ kidding me? If you saw my Tweets last night you know that I was drinking Jack Juice at Bottega Louis and I’m not exactly at the top of my game. Next thing I know EVERYONE’s up. I’m tired so I pile them all in the bed, sans the 15 year old and decide to call it a night. This doesn’t work. SHOCKER.
Out goes the 2 year old, out goes the 4 year old and out goes the 50 year old. My 4th child (husband) decided he had had it. I had had it too but I was fake sleeping so as not to have to deal; I was busy praying to the Jack Juice god to take me away. Today, I get up for Church, my 4th child (husband) is still asleep. “Where are you going?” Where am I going? The same place I always go at 7 freakin’ forty five in the am on Sunday. To Church. To pray for myself and these snarky blogs I write. To pray that I will have enough patience to get to noon on Sunday without creaming someone or talking on the phone while driving or whatever all of these bad habits are that I have. Needless to say, he doesn’t make it to Mass. I am furious.
I screech into the parking lot and get a shot of divine (literally) inspiration for Uncensored. Who knew you could get conference ideas at Church? I make it through Mass although I am still very devastated because I have not heard from my parents. Ding and Dong were supposed to call last night for dinner after their 3 week trip to the Middle East. That hotbed of calm. You can imagine that 2 Jack Juice’s in last night, I’m starting to panic when the phone was still not ringing. Finally, this morning I call and my mother answers. “What the heyyyllllllll. Where have you been mother????” Evidently there was a de-icing crisis in Zurich, trouble with snow in Paris, who knows. Evidently the world fell apart and this affected her cell phone coverage. People, I thought you had died and I have a full week. Please communicate.
After I found the long lost mother, I walk in the house to see the 4 year old culprit with his ginormous paws in the peanut butter jar. Are you kidding me (x 10)?? What are you doing with the peanut butter? “Peana butta sanwich.” Oh, of course. Martita proceeds to tell me that he’s been talking about a peana butta sanwich for a week. Oh, of course, the length of time we request something determines our ability to put our paws in jars of messy food. 5 seconds later he’s covered in jelly, my 15 year old is complaining that Coco is ruining his life and I am forcecd to blog. It is my only release. I refuse to turn to Oxycontin and it’s too early to drink.
Sorry, but I just had to share. Please do me a favor and pass this blog along to everyone you know so that my hits will go up and I can end the day on a happy note. I’m en route to NYC tomorrow and you know I’m going to have an issue at the LAX Starbucks. A little gratuitous free promotion is the least you guys can do for me. 
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