10 Things A Mother Thinks but Would Never Say Outloud: Reality Edition.

1.  Quit looking at me like that. I know you want to have sex. I know you know I know you want to have sex. I know you know I am fucking tired. Slaps on the ass and dry humps aren’t going to cut it. Better luck tomorrow.

2. You’re fucking bored, not hungry! I am so sick of feeding you little bastards.

3.  No, actually I’m not sick or tired. I just didn’t have a chance to make myself beautiful in between working full time, being Mama/Wife and just not giving a fuck. But thanks for ruining my day douchebag I always seem to run in to.

4.  Why is it so hard to put your dirty clothes in the laundry basket. The next time you leave your shit right by the basket, expect to lose your shit, right through the new holes in your pockets.

5.  No, I don’t want to watch you do another cartwheel. In fact, I’d rather run head fucking first in to that tree right over there.

6.  Twist the bread closed. Why be a lazy fuck and just fold that shit over.

7.  No, I’m sorry. My kid can’t come over for a play date, I’m afraid the lice that will come home on her head may eat my youngest child.

8.  Actually, I’m not enjoying my “time alone” –  I’m at the grocery store for fucksake. I hope the person in line ahead of you pays in pennies and coupons, asshole.

9.  If you little fuckers don’t let me get at least one cup of coffee in me before you start fighting, I’m going to buy you both boxing gloves and go out for a nice breakfast alone. I’m over it – survival of the fittest kids.

10.  Please – just go the fuck to sleep so I can have another a glass of wine, break out the chocolaty goods I’m hiding from you and watch Jon Stewart in peace!

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I have to thank Samara and Fish of Gold for writing their lists. These women had me laughing so hard I had to attempt my own. Since I live in a bubble that is called StayAtHomeMom-ville, I figured I’d tailor my list to the annoying shit I’m subjected to on the daily.

What was the last thing you thought but, for whatever reason, decided against saying out loud?

Why I Effing Love the F bomb.

It’s a crowd favorite! Hope you enjoy if this is your first time catching this one. If not, perhaps it will help pass the time, while we wait for all the snow to officially melt!!!

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Spoiler Alert: I’m going to cuss.  I’m going to say things that may be offensive and probably shouldn’t come out of any normal Momma’s mouth.

But in case you haven’t noticed, this Momma isn’t normal.

Shouting the word Fuck just because you can is never recommended.  It needs to be crafted in to conversation so as not to taint its beautiful, descriptive power.  Used in the wrong tone, this word can become scary and I for one stop listening when I feel intimidated. I recognize there is always a time and place.

Fuck is quite possibly a perfect word.  It can be the main ingredient to so many things – a joke, an argument, an attitude, an emotion or a statement.

It would most definitely win a popularity contest against any other explicative within my generation.  It’s not the shock value that makes it such a lovely fucking word.  It’s the ability to encompass intensity regarding other words or events that otherwise are dismissed as “ordinary” or “normal”.

For example, if I hear hubby say, “it’s cold outside”, I may throw on a fleece and head out.  If he says “It is fucking cold out side”, you bet your ass I’m putting on a hat and scarf because now I’m thinking it is fucking nose hair freezing and not just normal upstate NY cold.

The word fuck embodies humor, and a raw-ness that our day to day lives need.   Without the f bomb would this (what I consider classic) moment be embedded in our brains?

Or how about this one…which I still quote pretty much every time I hear someone ask “What was the name?”

There is no pharmaceutical formula available that can give you the feeling of thrusting the word fuck off your tongue.  It can be such a therapeutic tool with the only possible side effect being a disapproving eye.

A miserable mood can best be cured with a tall glass of what-the-fuck-ever.  A situation with too many variables is best known as a cluster-fuck.  When I have finally thrown my hands in the air it is usually due to a serious case of the fuck-its!

It’s a grammatical orgasm if you will. Just try it.  Just shout out the word Fuck.  Now say Fuck!.  Try calling the person who just pulled out in front of you only to make a quick right hand turn without using HIS FUCKING BLINKER a Fucking Fuck!  It just adds a little more justice to the situation.  No one has ever died from whipping out a F bomb during an episode of road rage…just sayin’.

Being a Mom and being in love with the word fuck can be tricky.  I’d say the trickiest part is not the kids but being around other Moms I don’t really know.  I don’t drop the f word around small children (on purpose), like I said, a time and a place.

However, if I am having an adult conversation and the little ones are not under our feet, odds are I’m going to emphasize some fucking part of the conversation with a fuck here or a fuck there.

Do you know how many times in a day I call my ~on the verge of being a tyrant of a toddler~ son a little fucker?  It’s never out loud of course but it is definitely a regular reaction in my head.  Don’t judge me, I say it with nothing but affection and exhaustion.  The little Fucker just doesn’t know how many times in a day he cheats death and how his new, un-nerving high pitch whine can drive his Momma to want to jump out the fucking window.

The power of Fuck to arouse an extra layer of emotion is why I love to use it.  There is no better place for the F bomb than in a great song.  So with that, I’ll leave you with one of my favorite lyrical fucks from the little folk singer herself.

 

 

 

Why I Effing Love the F Bomb.

Spoiler Alert: I’m going to cuss.  I’m going to say things that may be offensive and probably shouldn’t come out of any normal Momma’s mouth.

But in case you haven’t noticed, this Momma isn’t normal.

Shouting the word Fuck just because you can is never recommended.  It needs to be crafted in to conversation so as not to taint its beautiful, descriptive power.  Used in the wrong tone, this word can become scary and I for one stop listening when I feel intimidated. I recognize there is always a time and place.

Fuck is quite possibly a perfect word.  It can be the main ingredient to so many things – a joke, an argument, an attitude, an emotion or a statement.

It would most definitely win a popularity contest against any other explicative within my generation.  It’s not the shock value that makes it such a lovely fucking word.  It’s the ability to encompass intensity regarding other words or events that otherwise are dismissed as “ordinary” or “normal”.

For example, if I hear hubby say, “it’s cold outside”, I may throw on a fleece and head out.  If he says “It is fucking cold out side”, you bet your ass I’m putting on a hat and scarf because now I’m thinking it is fucking nose hair freezing and not just normal upstate NY cold.

The word fuck embodies humor, and a raw-ness that our day to day lives need.   Without the f bomb would this (what I consider classic) moment be embedded in our brains?

Or how about this one…which I still quote pretty much every time I hear someone ask “What was the name?”

There is no pharmaceutical formula available that can give you the feeling of thrusting the word fuck off your tongue.  It can be such a therapeutic tool with the only possible side effect being a disapproving eye.

A miserable mood can best be cured with a tall glass of what-the-fuck-ever.  A situation with too many variables is best known as a cluster-fuck.  When I have finally thrown my hands in the air it is usually due to a serious case of the fuck-its!

It’s a grammatical orgasm if you will. Just try it.  Just shout out the word Fuck.  Now say Fuck!.  Try calling the person who just pulled out in front of you only to make a quick right hand turn without using HIS FUCKING BLINKER a Fucking Fuck!  It just adds a little more justice to the situation.  No one has ever died from whipping out a F bomb during an episode of road rage…just sayin’.

Being a Mom and being in love with the word fuck can be tricky.  I’d say the trickiest part is not the kids but being around other Moms I don’t really know.  I don’t drop the f word around small children (on purpose), like I said, a time and a place.

However, if I am having an adult conversation and the little ones are not under our feet, odds are I’m going to emphasize some fucking part of the conversation with a fuck here or a fuck there.

Do you know how many times in a day I call my ~on the verge of being a tyrant of a toddler~ son a little fucker?  It’s never out loud of course but it is definitely a regular reaction in my head.  Don’t judge me, I say it with nothing but affection and exhaustion.  The little Fucker just doesn’t know how many times in a day he cheats death and how his new, un-nerving high pitch whine can drive his Momma to want to jump out the fucking window.

The power of Fuck to arouse an extra layer of emotion is why I love to use it.  There is no better place for the F bomb than in a great song.  So with that, I’ll leave you with one of my favorite lyrical fucks from the little folk singer herself.