Bus Driver From Hell

Back to school. The time of year that parents everywhere have been counting down towards for the past several weeks. Not because we don't love our kids, but because we have been so busy caring for their every. single. desire for so long that now we need a breather.

photo courtesy of Rawich at freedigitalphotos.net
Sure, I have joked with the best of them about how much I want, no NEED, my kiddos to head back to school (and I certainly meant it at least half of the time!) But the reality is, as much as I need some sane time to refresh, and clean this giant pit-hole-of-a-house, I do miss them during the day and want for them to be safe. They are my babies. I am excited right alongside them. I cry for them when they hurt. I am scared for them, which brings me to today's topic: school buses.

Riding the school bus is a necessity in our house. My husband and I both work outside of the home, making it near impossible to shuttle our four children (in three different schools with different school hours) back and forth to school each day. And so, each morning, we entrust our children's lives into the hands of another human being. The bus driver.

Now, I don't envy that job for one single second. Just the mere thought of a vehicle full of excited, screaming, sometimes crying children makes me cringe. It certainly takes a certain (very brave) type of person to tackle that challenging job.

And I respect that.

With that being said, it is my opinion that is a person can not handle those types of situations with finesse (and an obscene amount of patience that I do not possess) than maybe the job of bus driver is not a good fit. It is not like that is the only job in the world. There are plenty more to choose from, and we live in a country where we are allowed the luxury of choosing.

This is why I cannot seem to wrap my head around the fact that for the past several years we have been un-blessed with a HORRIBLE bus driver. She is rude. She is mean. She starts each day with a scowl and a gruff "Hurry up and sit down" and ends it with the same. And no amount of my kindness has been able to change it.

She is The Grinch of the bus garage.

Now, before you think I am just exaggerating, let me tell you how I know she is so horrible. Three years ago, she literally shut me in the bus door.

Let that sink in. SHUT. ME. IN. THE. DOOR. OF. HER. BUS.

After pulling in to the bus stop at the end of the day, she kept the bus door shut and was yelling at the kids. I could hear her from my apartment, which is around 100 feet from the bus stop. I proceeded to walk to the bus stop and patiently wait for her to open the bus door, which took her another five minutes, during which, she continued to scream at the children on the bus. Upon opening the door, I approached the bus stairs and kindly asked "Is there a problem on the bus today?" to which she proceeded to scream at me about how awful my children are. This took me aback, because even though they can be a challenge at home, they are always good at school. So, I apologized for her frustrations and nicely asked her to "Please refrain from screaming at my children on the bus. If they are challenging you, please let ME know and we will handle it appropriately at home." Apparently that statement sent this loon over the edge, because she shut the door, while I was still standing in it, put the bus into gear, and started to drive off. I had to JUMP out of the way!

That whole debacle turned into a FULL YEAR of us battling the bus garage, because the bus tapes "mysteriously" dissappeared from that day, and we ended up driving our children to and from school daily for the rest of the school year. At the end of that school year, we were told by the bus garage that she had been "disciplined" and our children should be fine on the bus.

The following year, we put our children back on the bus, only to have another issue. This time, she yanked my daughter back onto the bus by her backpack when she tried to exit the bus while being bitched out. And again, the tapes magically were not working that day. It took us several months, AGAIN, to battle the bus garage, and after threats of a lawsuit, we were given a new bus driver and a new bus route.

Finally, we felt peace about our children riding the school bus.

This year, our youngest child starts kindergarten. What a magical time of our lives! It should be exciting to see her skip to the bus stop, braids swinging. It was exciting this morning as I walked her to the bus stop for the very first day of school.

Until the bus pulled in and we saw that same grumpy-faced bus driver of our nightmares sitting behind the wheel.

Here's to hoping that we have a fun and safe school year. But if we don't, I won't be dealing with an extremely unhelpful and unjust bus garage this time around. This year, Momma Bear has her claws out.

And the police department on speed dial.

Do your kids have to ride a school bus? How do you feel about that? Share your stories with me!

Miss me this summer? I sure missed you! We had a super busy (and fun) summer and I just couldn't find the time to write and my ranking over at Top Mommy proves it... I have slipped from the top of the list to the very bottom! Won't you please take a moment and give this banner a click? Every click helps improve my ranking and makes me more visible to awesome readers like you. Thanks for all of your support!

A walk to the park

If it is warm and sunny, chances are, your kids will want to go to the park. And since you have been on a fitness kick, you will decide that walking the half mile to the park is a great way to burn some extra calories so that you can afford to eat that bowl of ice cream you have been craving.

So you will grab your phone and a book, lock the door, and you will walk.

With your kids.

Along that walk, your kids will notice some wildflowers growing, and they will pick you some. Their beautiful yellow bouquet will remind you that you are allergic to dandelions. Unfortunately it won't remind the kids, who will find that blowing the dandelion seeds is a delightful game that makes mom sneeze.

All that laughter will remind the kids that it is always super fun to cross a busy street. Thankfully there aren't any cars coming as your five year old darts across it without looking. So you will run across the street too, screaming like a wild banshee, which will remind the kids that while crossing the street is fun, it is even more fun to run way ahead of you so that you have to chase them.

All that running will remind you why you don't like running. It will remind the kids that trespassing through people's front yards and picking flowers out of their flower beds is even more fun than darting across a street while mom screams.

You will finally reach the park, though your sanity may be trailing slightly behind the pack.

Reaching the park will remind you that you brought a book and can maybe have five minutes of peace and quiet to catch up on some reading.

Reaching the park will remind your kids that it is always fun to climb up to the top of the rope tower and scream for help getting down.

You put down your book and head out to the rescue.

Coaxing a frightened five year old down from the top of the playground equipment will remind you why it is stupid to bring a book to the park. It will remind your five year old that she really does love to climb that thing and she will climb back up again. And again. And again.

You finally persuade her to try something different so that you can sit down with your book.

Then your phone rings. It is your husband. He is on his way home from work. You attempt to spend two minutes talking to him and of course, that is when your five year old decides to climb up a twisty pole on her own and bumps her chin. You hang up the phone to comfort her.

Bumping her chin will remind her that she hasn't been up the rope tower in a while and she will start that fun game all over again.

You will finally get the kids playing independently and sit down to read your book.

That is when you will notice that the temperature has dropped slightly and the sky is starting to get a little darker. Wait. Was that a raindrop? You are reminded that you have to walk home and you attempt to gather up the kids to start the trek back home.

You telling the kids that it is about to rain and you need to leave, reminds them that they never went down the slide. And because you can't go to the park without going down the slide (five hundred times) they will run up the steps to go down the slide.

You will feel another raindrop and remember that not only did you walk to the park, you are carrying a book and a cell phone and don't have any pockets. You will tell the kids that if they don't come now, they will have to find a new family because you are leaving, with or without them.

This announcement will make your five year old run back up the steps to the top of the slide for "one last time."

You feel another rain drop.

Feeling the rain drop will remind your kids that you have to walk home. And they will come running. It will remind you that you don't have a safe place to put your phone to keep it from getting wet and you will set a faster pace.

Seeing you walk faster, will remind the kids how fun it is to run way ahead of mom on the side of a busy street. You will run after them, screaming like a wild banshee. Again.

You will feel more rain, as it starts to come down in a light sprinkle. This will remind your five year old that she really doesn't like rain which will set her into a panic. She will cry and carry on and act like she is sugar and the rain is going to wash her away.

During all that fuss, the rain will start to come down even harder. That will remind your five year old that rain is wet. It will also remind her that when it rains on you, your clothes stick to you. That will cause her to panic even more. All that crying and carrying on will remind you why it is smart to check the weather before going on a walk to the park.

You somehow make it home from the park without your five year old melting or you blowing your top. You get inside right as the rain stops. When the rain stops, the sun will come back out which will remind your kids that when it is warm and sunny...

You want to go play at the park.

This time, you drive.

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Lunch Date Adventures

I love my best friend.

There is NOTHING I would rather do than spend some quality time with her without the kiddos interrupting every five minutes. And because every time we hang out she always makes me laugh until I can't breathe, I wanted to share a glimpse into our hilarious relationship by telling you about our lunch date today.

I don't know about you, but we have an open door policy written into our friendship. You know, the kind where you don't knock, you just walk in and make yourself at home. Mi fridge es su fridge. Is there coffee in the coffee pot? Good. I am going to pour myself a cup while I raid your cupboards in search of your chocolate stash. Then I am going to stink up your bathroom. With the door open. THAT kind of friendship. Ya get me?

Another thing you need to know about my best friend, Amy, is that she is not always a "ready when you get there" kind of girl. Even when I specifically say, "I will be there at 12:00 SO BE READY TO WALK OUT THE DOOR," she is usually just getting into the shower as I walk in. And today was no exception.

I arrived at 12:15. I knocked as I was walking in, shouting "Heeeelllloooooo" like I always do. No answer. Okay. No biggie. (I told you that she is always running behind)  I could hear the shower running and her and her husband talking and it sounded like the bathroom door was open, so I slowly ventured toward that end of the house yelling "Hey! I'm here!" Still no response. I was pretty much terrified to get any closer because 1. Yer girl does NOT want to walk in on the "business" and 2. What if her husband comes busting around the corner el nude-o? So, I slowly backtracked into the kitchen, took off my boots, and waited patiently (Read: snooped through the stuff on the counter, checked out the fridge stats, read the notes on the white board)

After about 5 minutes, Amy comes busting out of the bathroom butt naked and around the corner into the kitchen, sees me and shouts to her husband, "Traci's here! Don't come out here naked!" So instead, he comes out wearing....Amy's pink robe.

Now I don't know about you, but seeing your best friend's husband in HER little tiny pink robe, set me off in a fit of giggles which were only amplified when he started sashaying across the kitchen, waggling his hips, and batting his eyelashes. I figured the ONLY thing I could do at THAT point is join in on the crazy, right? So I start giving him advice on how to be more feminine. Sway your hips. Flick your wrist a little more. Clench your butt cheeks tighter. "Oh honey! That's EXACTLY what Bruce told me earlier! But I told him NO on account of the hemorrhoids."

By this point I was ALREADY on the verge of panty tinkling. And the fun was just beginning.

After a long wait, during which I was completely entertained by her husband's pink robe antics, she was ready, and we were off to enjoy a great lunch and some much needed talk time.

Our lunch was delish. We ordered two meals and then split them, so we were basically gorging ourselves to the point where only a good poop would make us feel comfortable enough to move. And we talked about tantalizing topics like the LAST time we had come to that restaurant and Amy had asked for EXTRA blue cheese and bacon so crispy that it was bordering on burnt on her well-done burger, only to be madly disappointed upon the food coming out still moo-ing and covered in limp chewy bacon. And how I, being the great friend that I am, had completely thrown her under the bus when our poor server innocently came by to hear how wonderful our food was and I laughed and pointed at Amy and said, "My food is GREAT, but you should ask HER..." all while stuffing our faces in true hungry girl style and laughing like crazy women.

Speaking of laughing, there is nothing more soul cleansing than a good laugh with your best friend. And what came next, well, it cleansed my soul from here to next year.

When it was time to pay our cute little waitress, who was 23, and YES I do know this because Amy asked, came by with the check and a cute little story about her lack of sleep due to her Thursday night partying. While she was busy telling us ALL about what a hard learner she was, Amy could only focus on one thing.

The speck of mystery sauce glistening on the poor girls chest.

So as our poor unsuspecting waitress babbled on, Amy reached out and PICKED it off. with. her. FINGERNAIL! The look on that poor girl's face was BEYOND priceless and I seriously lost all self control and burst out in a laugh that bordered on hyena.

"Sorry! You had a little something on there..." Amy quickly explained as the waitress looked on in pure disbelief.

"It-it-it's okay!" the waitress stuttered, "I am glad you got it..."

By this point, I am practically choking on my own spit from pure insane laughter. And Amy is still chatting away at the poor girl, "Yea, I knew it wasn't one of your cute little moles because it was catching the light..."

Oh. My. Goodness. If every person in the restaurant wasn't staring at me by this point, I would have been totally surprised.

Then Amy looks at me and says, "What? It was RIGHT there! I wouldn't have wanted her to walk around with that all day long! And I was GOING to use my napkin, but then I saw how used it was and thought 'dirty!', so I just used my finger! "

By the time the waitress made her escape, my laughter had turned into a red-faced, crying, can't catch my breath debacle as I squeezed out these words, "You. Could. Have. Just. TOLD. Her! Maybe added a little finger point to the spot..."

"Oh my! I didn't even THINK of that!" she said as she joined in my laughter. "How much tip should I leave?" she asked.

"Enough to cover your physical assault of her CHEST!" I retorted.

"Yea... I better leave a little extra!"

And when we calmed down enough to actually look at the bill, we realized that our lunch entree was called the "willy wrap" which started our rollicking all over again.

I am sure they were ALL happy to see us leave. Especially our poor assaulted waitress with the cute moles. Thank goodness it wasn't just a freckle.

THAT would have been awkward.

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Casa de Drama's Christmas Vacation

Last summer, I had a whole lot of fun chronicling our life through snippets of conversations and pictures in a fun little series I lovingly deemed "Casa de Drama." I promised, when it ended, to pop back in with it occasionally...aaaaand have failed miserably.

What? I have four kids. What more do you people WANT from me?!

But after surviving these last two weeks with the kids and the husband and all the Christmas gatherings and work...I decided it was time.

So, come! Take a walk with me through our two week holiday, filled with as much laughs as it was filled with gas. (But I am pretty sure that was just Grandma's beans talkin'.) We may not be the Griswolds, but we are, at the very least, cousin Eddie.

*****

Vacation started out well enough. I had the day off of work and so I went to school with Brennan for her Holiday Party. What a treat! Brennan was pretty excited to have mom at school and had been telling all her friends I was coming. So basically I was the center of attention of 20 cupcake-sticky-fingered 4 year olds. Exciting!

At least I got the royal treatment unlike this funny conversation I had with Brennan about her daddy bringing her birthday treat to school next week:
Brennan: I am gonna be embarrassed in school.
Me: Why?
Brennan: Because. Why can't I just take my cupcakes on the bus?
Me: Because they might spill or tip over and get ruined. Dad is going to drive you, remember?
Brennan: I think the best thing is to not go to school on Monday...
Me: You do?! Why?
Brennan: Just because.
#IthinkSheThinksDadIsEmbarrassing 
#BurnedByAPreschooler

But, I can't really blame the girl. Her daddy CAN be a bit of a spotlight stealer. And sometimes his choices in clothing....well....it's probably a good thing preschoolers can't read! And he does scare the neighborhood with his shirtless "private parts" showing as Brennan so delicately warned us...

Brennan (looking at hubs sitting on couch shirtless): ummmm, you're gonna scare people...
Hubs: why? Cuz I don't have a shirt on?
Brennan: No. With your private parts.

Thanks to the "good touch, bad touch" program at school, my 4yo thinks her daddy's "boobies" should always be covered. And she has repeatedly embarrassed us in public. A couple days ago she told the teen's friend, "Watch out! My dad's private parts are out!" (Because he was shirtless) 
Lord have mercy! I almost died.

But, I am getting ahead of myself here! The first few days of vacation went well. The kids played good together. I even gathered up the littles and created this fun Snowman project that uses up lonely socks (you know, the ones the washer eats the mate too!): 


This one belonged to the middle little, Kk. She did pretty good, I think!

But after a few days, the crazy comes out. You know what I am talking about....
The fights. The messes. The inability to hear and follow directions. All of this craziness led to my New Year's Resolution: Accept the mess.

We did manage to get things cleaned up enough for the Christmas tree to go up, at least. Which made Brennan think the presents underneath it were a free for all.

I'm bored. I think I will just open up a Christmas present. Okay, momma?!

-My 4yo. Living the life.

But eventually, we managed to survive arrive at Christmas morning. And let's face it...the wondrous looks of joy on the kiddos faces, lit only by the glow of the Christmas tree lights, as they opened their stockings...makes all the other stuff worthwhile!

And the giant mess created by opening presents is soon forgotten in the joys of trying to assemble gifts that were clearly made in China. Or not...
Hubs: Who in their right mind puts the directions to build this thing ON THE BOTTOM OF THE THING YOU ARE BUILDING??
Me: The people who made it. In china. (examining box and discovering the giant Made in the USA sign) 
Me: Okay. I guess not. It was apparently made in the good ole US of A. Probably by sweatshop children that were illegally immigrated from China.
Hubs: Too bad we couldn't get some of them over here to put this stupid thing together!
Me: Weeellll, we can always let our OWN sweatshop children do it! Ooooooh teeeeeeen!

But seriously. WHO DOES THAT? And the teen, he put that sucker together in record time.

I knew we kept him around for some good reason.

After all that fiasco was solved and the stupid, giant dollhouse was assembled, we got all dolled up for some Christmas party fun. I think we clean up pretty well, don't you?

But my favorite part of the ENTIRE vacation was when I got my Grandma to take a selfie with me. This lady is a hoot! (And pretty good with the duck lips, if I do say so myself!)











Coming in at a close second, was all the fun we had this year by staying in for New Year's Eve. The kids are FINALLY old enough to have a family game night, and that is just what we did!

Thanks to Netflix, who sent us this awesome package of party favors, we partied like it was the end of 2014. Oh wait! It was!

"Hey, mom! Where'd ya get that package from? ...Netflix?" -Kk

Uhhhhh....Here's your sign kid!

#BloggingPerks #Streamteam

We had so much fun at our little New Year's party! We played all kinds of fun games. Brennan whooped us ALL in Uno and I showed the kids who was boss with a double yahtzee on my very last roll! And they all thought I was dumb for writing "mom rocks" on my score card before we started playing! Psssh.

When it's your last roll and all you need is fours and you get a Yahtzee....of all fours.

Mom rocks. #HappyNewYear

I did have to stage an intervention for the teen and his love affair with the sparkling juice, though.... I told him he was going to have to go to non-alcoholics anonymous if he didn't chill out with that stuff. Three bottles in one night is just TOO MUCH, man!

Thanks so much for joining in our adventures, not only of the past couple weeks, but the whole year! 

Wishing you many blessings in 2015

xoxo

Want to see what else happened this past year? 
Check out these posts:

All Aboard the Hoo-Hoo Express
A Bedtime Tale
Well, that's just the poops!
If you see me running....RUN!
Brennan Reviews: The Cracker Barrel Restaurant
The Great Tooth Tragedy
Brennan Tid-Bits: A Facebook year in review
Cows are for milking, NOT mommies!
Back when life was all "Raindrops on Roses"

And of course, don't miss ANY of the Casa de Drama recap posts!

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The Perils of Co-Showering

I take showers with my four year old.

Whew! Glad to get that out there. Everybody has an opinion about it these days, and most of those people don't even HAVE kids.

It started when she was a baby. It was just easier for me to take her in with me than to trust that the older three kids would leave her alone (and well) long enough for me to shower. And since I enjoy NOT smelling like baby vomit, I had to come up with SOMETHING! And so the idea of co-showering came into play.

When she was really little, it was a team effort with my husband and I taking turns holding her while the other got clean, then one of us would exit, dry off, and then get her out. As she got older, the hubs bowed out. It may have had something to do with the time that she played ding-dong-ditch with his man parts, but I am not certain, and he's not talking. No really, we made a pact to never talk about that (embarrassing yet incredibly hilarious) moment EVER again.

Shoot! I am totally breaking that vow right now. Don't tattle!

So now it's just us. Me and her. And it is just part of our normal routine. I mean, if you don't make a big deal out of something, the kids won't either, right? And they certainly are used to seeing me halfway dressed as I have been walking around in my underwear since they were born. (Not planning on changing that either. Get over it!)

And several funny stories have come about because of our stance on co-showering. The first being the time that she assaulted the man parts with a giggle. But we aren't talking about that one. (See! I CAN keep a secret, honey!) There was also the time that she pooped. THAT was a treat. Let me tell ya. Nothing like playing hopscotch over turds in a slippery bathtub while trying to avoid tripping over a toddler or bringing down the whole shower curtain bar.

And then there was the time that she peed on my feet.

Good times.

But my absolute favorite story is the one that just happened!

Her and I were showering, like usual, me washing her hair, her playing with cups and other toys, when all of a sudden, she milked me! Or at least she tried too! (I TOLD you she had an obsession with boobs!) Before I could even stop her, that child reached up grabbed ahold of the old milk jugs and gave a squeeze! And I KNOW she was a-milkin' because she was holding her cup up to catch the juice!

Oh Lordy! Will this child's breastfeeding fascination EVER end?

I tried (unsuccessfully) not to laugh so that she would take me serious when I told her that "Cows are for milking, NOT mommies! and that "milking mommy's boobies was NOT appropriate touching" and then I asked her if she would like a good milking when she gets some ta-tas of her own? Of course, she giggled a big "no!" And I don't think she believed me when I told her that I WILL pay her back for all this breast assaulting when she is a tween/teen and has her OWN.

But I will!

After all, I have YEARS to plan the perfect revenge.

photo credit: khunaspix via www.freedigitalphotos.net

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Saddle up the horses....I'm going on tour!

So that title doesn't really make sense. But it sounded good in my head. And to be honest, well... I am super excited to have been invited to take my (self-proclaimed) fan-tabulous blog on tour! So I may be a little bit loopy!

I even took the time to make my OWN someecard to announce it instead of Googling someone elses! (I know, right?! That is pretty BIG! And it IS a great someecard!)

But before I get started about me, let me introduce you to the awesome blogger who invited me: Lisa from Petty Thoughts who blogs about all kinds of ramblings, all while wearing yoga pants, holding (and talking to) her cats, and delighting in embarrassing her teenage son. She's a multi-tasker. And pretty dang funny.
Go check out my favorite post of hers: Metallica keeps me from viciously pinching my loved ones. BUT NOT YET! First read about me! It is MY tour, after all!

First things, first- you know you wanna know ALL about me! (Or maybe that is all just in my head...but hey, it's my blog, so I am going with the first one) 

Let me go ahead and satisfy your curiosity. 

What am I working on?
Weeeeell, I am currently going to town on a blog all about my great-ness as a writer. Too bad nobody else has realized it and offered me a big book deal. huh. Somebody better get on that real soon. But, in the meantime, I will continue to write tid-bits about my life as a mom of seriously dramatic daughters. And one poor teenage boy who lives in a sea of estrogen. And whatever else tickles my fancy that day. A bug has been planted in my ear about writing a book of "Brennan quotes" so I have been playing around with that option (in my head...but we all gotta start somewhere!) as well. We shall see where life takes me...

How does my work differ from others of it's genre?
I started out writing the funny things my youngest daughter said to me on my personal facebook page and it became so popular that when I was encouraged by a friend to "blog" them, I created a facebook page called A Day in the Life of a Drama Queen's Momma as an outlet. Since I am social media stupid, it took me a while to start blogging, but I am (kinda) getting the hang of it now. I would like to think that my natural sarcastic wit shines through in all that I write. I am not sure if that is different from any other over-worked, under-paid, snarky mom....but I do a lot of writing about my kids and as far as I know...they are only mine and not double-timing me with some other momma, so that makes my stories unique. And if they ARE double-timing me, I really should be using that time to write more!

 Any volunteers?

Why do I write what I do?
I love my kids. They make me laugh. When I am not wanting to strangle them. (<---that's a joke, before you get your tights in a tangle) So I write mostly about them, as a way to remember the hilarious moments later, since I have the memory of a 90 year old alzheimer's patient. I occasionally write about other things, mostly things that I find humorous. I love to make people laugh. 

And I am a bit of an attention whore. 

Well, at least I can admit it.

How does my writing/creating process work?
I know all you other writers are probably going to smack me for this, but MOST of the time, the words just flow from my mind through my fingertips onto the screen. I have always enjoyed writing, but never really paid much attention to it. When I have something to write about, it just bubbles out. Now, when I am under pressure or told exactly WHAT I need to write...then I find myself staring at a blank screen. And it never fails, that most of my great ideas come when my kids are being the most demanding and I can't get them down on paper. So I have started jotting notes in my phone and hoping that I can remember what my train of thought was when I have a chance to sit down with them. I have lost more totally awesome blog posts that way! So for now, I am mom during the day and writer after bedtime.My poor husband! I just keep bribing his compliance with dreams of becoming rich from my first book deal. (Shhhh! I am ok with his ignorance!)

And that's it folks! Now you know a little bit about the momma behind all the drama on this blog. Probably more than you wanted to know...but oh well! No take backs. 

Now take a minute and stalk a couple of MY favorite blogs:

First up, Tracy On The Rocks. She is a lover of both cocktails and funny movies. And she does a great job weaving stories out of her "rocky life". Besides, her mom says she's funny and that is really all that matters, right?! I also have to point out that we share the same name (only mine is spelled with an "i") so that automatically makes her cool in my book! But her blog post A Little Piece of Me Dies Every Time I Get a Voicemail was the quencher that did it for me! If you EVER ignore your voicemail....you need to read this post!

And lets not forget, My Dirt! She is a tattooed lover of lists who has 4 daughters and aspires to be on the Ellen Degeneres Show (well, who doesn't?!). She is a fellow karaoke queen who blogs about all things dirty. And by dirty, I mean her life with kids, not porn...so get your head outta the gutter! Here's some dirt that I think you would enjoy: How To Be A good Neighbour

What are you still reading for?? Head on over and check 'em out!

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