Yeah, But Look At His Glutes

posted by Momo Fali on April 6, 2008

As practicing Catholics, it is customary for our family to genuflect when entering, and when leaving our pew at church. This means we bend the left knee and touch our right knee to the floor in the direction of the tabernacle.

This morning when Mass ended, I told my daughter she could go say hello to a friend as I stayed behind to talk to someone. I thought my son had followed his sister.

I soon learned otherwise, when I finished my conversation and turned to see my boy attempting to start a parish-based aerobics class. He was genuflecting at each and every pew on the way to the door.

For a split second I considered whether or not I should claim he was mine, when the woman in front of me turned to her husband and said, “Look at that kid doing lunges.”

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Just Once I’d Like To Find Some Cash In There

posted by Momo Fali on April 4, 2008

Day before yesterday, I headed out to Home Depot to purchase some new blinds. In the pocket of my jacket, I had two Home Depot gift cards.

After talking to the salesman, I realized I had made some incorrect window measurements. Seeing as how once they cut them, you own them, I didn’t want to purchase the blinds until I was positive about the mounting width.

Yesterday I went back with the corrections, but I was wearing a different jacket.

When I went to pay, I instantly let the cashier know that I’m a Mom. Because, instead of finding the gift cards in my pocket, I pulled out a used tissue, Thomas the Tank sunglasses, and a toy figure of Leo from The Little Einsteins.

I Feel Like Rodney Dangerfield

posted by Momo Fali on April 3, 2008

I picked up my son from school yesterday, gave him a hug and a kiss, then said, “I really missed you.”

He hugged me back, and said, “Aw, thanks. I really missed Daddy.”

She’s Going To Hear Some Bells Ringing

posted by Momo Fali on April 1, 2008

Yesterday was one lousy day. Nobody died and no one was hurt. Nothing tragic happened. But, I was…let’s see, how can I put this delicately for you male readers? Let’s just say, I was…hormonal.

Something has happened since I entered my late thirties. Something bad. For a couple of days a month, I turn into an evil woman. I yell, I fight, and every, little, minuscule thing irritates me. I am supremely grumpy.

On many levels, I feel like a female version of Bruce Banner turning into the Incredible Hulk. There are moments, during these dark days, where I would bet money my skin was turning green. And, I’m pretty sure that I snarl and spit when I talk.

My two, poor children bear the brunt of my vicious Mrs. Hyde. I yell about toys being all over the house, shoes being left in the hall, wet towels on the bathroom floor, and kids who take too long to eat their dinner. That is to say, I get mad about normal stuff which happens every day.

But, on hormonal days, I can’t even stand the normal stuff. I become a raging freak, and what’s really bad is that I KNOW it, yet I can’t stop. For those one or two nights a month, my kids don’t even argue if I send them to bed early.

Last night I desperately tried to lighten the mood. After I grumbled about picking up some clothes off the floor, I sang, “I am grumpy. I am grumpy…” (To the tune of Frère Jacques.)

And, from the other room, my nine year old daughter was brave enough to finish the verse with, “Yes you are! Yes you are!”