Monthly Archives: March 2014

A Mom’s Not So Proud Moment

kid puddle


It was a misty persistent rain falling on our heads as my sons and I departed from swim practice. It was  after 9:00 p.m. I was exhausted, it was a long day of work and I was spent after spending an hour and half in a pool coaching sixteen swimmers ranging in age from six to eight.

As we were making our way to the car, we literally had to avoid many many puddles, evidence that it must have poured as we were in the steamy hot suffocating pool.  Boys, hell really anyone no matter the age cannot resist puddles.  Who really can?  They can be fun. Can being the operative word.  When you’re exhausted, already wet and just want to get home to jump into your comfy cozies, not so much fun.

Before I could blurt out what I was thinking: Don’t you dare go near those puddles!  my oldest son leaped like a frog and landed two feet in an enormous puddle that splashed me from head-to-toe.

Head-to-fricking- toe.

Without thinking I yelled “You’re an asshole!”

The grimy street water dripped down my hair,  face and my jacket but what was worse was the feeling of pure disgust that washed over me.

I just called my 9 year old an asshole.  What kind of animal am I?

I gingerly turned my head thankful to find that we were alone; I then peered over my left shoulder to face the music and look at my son square in the eye. I really thought I would find him sobbing, ya see my eldest is extremely sensitive (like his mom, however this was clearly not my most sensitive moment.) I was afraid I damaged him more and this would be the focus of  yet another therapy session. Before our eyes formally met I heard belly laughing from him and my six year old – I was relieved.  We continued to the car, me still mortified  hanging my head as I sulked and slid into the drivers seat very wet and very embarrassed of myself.

Before I started the car I immediately texted my sister:  “I just called my son an asshole”.    I relayed the story as fast as my big thumbs would allow and within minutes I had a plan to try and rectify this situation – I took the advice of my sister – I was to apologize to my son and let him know that I didn’t think he was an asshole but that his actions well were well: ‘asshole-ish’.  I also, tried to explain what ‘asshole’ means, it seemed that my explanation fell as flat as my Jewish mans ass.

As I drove out of the parking lot, I started my song and dance:  I apologized profusely, I went into how I was tired, how I shouldn’t have reacted that way, that we really need to think before we speak because we can hurt people’s feelings, and reiterated how deeply sorry I was for calling him that and it was really his behavior that I was referring to.

The car went silent. A deafening and scary silence.  I lost him. I talked too much. He hates me. I convinced myself that this would be the focus of his very first therapy session. Feeling terrible, I continued to navigate the dark streets unsure if I should turn on the radio to break the silence when my nine year old blurted out:

“My second grade teacher was an asshole”

Wow. I sat there stunned and thought to myself –“well, I guess my explanation was accurate.”




Posted in deanna verbouwens, The Little Buggers Tagged with: , , , ,

The Things I Hate


I grew up in an Italian Catholic house where all four of my sisters and I attended Catholic school from first through eighth grade, going to church on Sunday was as common as putting on our pants, doing the rosary was a weekly occurrence as were the stations of the cross during Easter week.

During my formative first eight years of elementary and now what they call ‘middle school’ it was beat into my head that HATE is a very strong word. Sister Eileen told me I couldn’t hate anything; only ‘dislike something’ that well … hating anything meant that I danced with the devil. Well, my friends dance if I must; now that I am into my forties I can honestly say I hate some things in life:

  • I hate when you’re in the right lane at a light and the person in front of you doesn’t have their turn signal on so you have no idea if they have the intention to make the “right on red” or if they’re just sitting there getting a quick text in.
  • Downright ignorance, I literally hate it, I hate when someone goes on and on about a topic or issue when they have no idea what they are talking about. And before you blow up at me, I know the difference between having an opinion and being ignorant. When an individual has the lack of knowledge or intelligence about a topic or an issue they are ignorant.
  • I hate the statement “Guns don’t kill people, people kill people.” Well, jackass, what is the “people” holding? That’s right … a gun. And again, before you slit my throat, I’m all for our rights – but by using this statement in an argument the presenter (of this statement) hasn’t considered the relevance of proximate causation – once that is recognized (which usually leads to a much better understanding of why this statement is weak (or maybe not … cause umm ignorance (see above))) I think the presenter may think twice about using this statement again – enough said. What’s proximate causation? Check it out here. 
  • I also hate when someone throws garbage out their car window, or really any place but a garbage receptacle. Are you that lazy, entitled, ridiculous that you have to just throw garbage on the floor? Pick it up and throw it out you lazy entitled bastard!
  • When I’m walking around my house and my socks get wet, man do I hate that! Especially if they are “brand new socks”, how annoying is a wet sock? Even worse, how annoying is one wet sock?
  • Undoing the dishwasher. I hate it.
  • I also hate when people rant about their: “Freedom of Speech, dude, I can say whatever the hell I want it’s my First Amendment right!” It sure is! The beautiful First Amendment is one of the reasons I can write this blog, but with Freedom of Speech comes responsibility – just because we live in America and we are free to speak our minds, we also must be responsible for our words and how they affect our audience. So before you rant on about what’s on your mind and your right to speak it – be responsible and choose your words wisely.
  • Cleaning my house. I hate it. I am satisfied when it’s done but I literally hate doing it.
  • I hate that in just about every Disney movie or TV show that the parents are dead, die (the gun shot in Bambi, is that necessary?!) alive but not seen or are complete morons . What is the deal? Did Walt have issues with his parents?
As I get older I tend to get grumpier or have less tolerance for well just about … everything.  So friends … what things in life do you dislike or dare I say hate? Think about that carefully because remember hate is such a strong word… right Sister Eileen ?





Posted in deanna verbouwens, That's Life, the unnatural mother Tagged with: , , ,

Welcome Home


It’s finally here! My new bloggity blog and I couldn’t be happier! Isn’t she pretty?   This was a long time coming and was certainly a labor of love! I have to thank my cousin Stephen for his extraordinary design and my web designer Jennette for her amazing web mastery skills, and they both must be thanked for being so patient with me.  I didn’t compleltely abandon writing since August, however have not written as much as I could or should have – and of course nothing has been posted – I will say I am eager to get back at it. Lots has happened, some good, some bad, some devastating and some funny funny stuff.   I can’t promise I won’t go awol again as life has a funny way of happening but I will sure as shit will do my darnest so that does not happen again.  I hope you’ll come back to visit more frequently with a cup-a-joe and share a smile, a laugh, any maybe even some tears.



Posted in deanna verbouwens, That's Life, the unnatural mother, unnatural mother