Monthly Archives: December 2017

GPS Recalculating … rerouting

I rely solely on my GPS or the Waze app to help me navigate the treacherous Long Island roads during rush hour traffic, and basically any other time I am driving and have no idea where I am going. These devices, apps, things, whatever you call them are literally my co-pilot. I listen to this woman’s voice so much that I feel we’ve become good friends. And I often wonder if she really gives a shit about where I am going? Do you think ‘Claire’ loves her job? Giving me directions — Every. Single. Day?  Spitting out three different routes to choose from, calculating an estimated arrival time?  Does she care that I am geographically challenged? When I make a wrong turn, would Claire rather say, “Listen, dipshit, I said to turn left onto Main Street. Now because of your inability to follow my simple directions, I have to tell you to make a fricking right onto Spruce, a left onto to Oak and then another fucking right onto Cedar street. Just make the FUCKING ILLEGAL U-turn, cause I can’t say REROUTING one more damn time!” I truly think she would. I mean, just think of all the times you told your husband or children something, and they don’t listen. You get pretty aggravated, right? Claire can’t be this even keeled all day long? Something has to tip her bucket? No?

Dear, God, I’ve had a long day.

Is this utterly ridiculous? And I am literally the only person on this planet that thinks their inanimate objects actually have feelings, that named their GPS voice? Please don’t answer that. Let me pretend that Claire exists, that she cares about all of us, and that she is completely happy telling us where to go, even if it is to “Go F$%k ourselves!”

 

 

 

Posted in deanna, deanna verbouwens, That's Life

8 things I hate about Christmas

As I lie in bed watching my 1,434th episode of Fixer Upper, it dawned on me I have, once again, totally neglected my plan of being done with Christmas shopping by December 1. You know, so I can enjoy December, instead of being completely frazzled, exhausted, deflated by December 25.

Year after year, I fall into the same trap. I set my goals high at the end of September and am utterly and completely shocked when December 1 rolls around.  It is as if the months of October and November never even happened. I look at calendar, and December rolls in and slaps me in the face – just like Cher does to Nicholas Cage in Moonstruck. And I am just as shocked.

I began to wonder why I do this to myself year after year. Why am I putting so much pressure on myself to finish Christmas shopping? Why not embrace the suck of racing around a parking lot trying to find my car, be utterly and completely irrational with my family and friends because we can’t settle on a day to meet up to exchange Christmas greetings, or stand in line at Target for six gazillion hours for gift cards!

Then I stopped.

And those thoughts made me think about all the sucky things I hate about Christmas:

  1. Elf on the Shelf pressure (Oh, I hate that Elf!)
  2. Not coming up with the perfect gift for my loved ones
  3. Wrapping presents. I fricking hate wrapping gifts. Some find it relaxing… not me. I find no joy in it whatsoever.
  4. The endless eating. I mean, I love to eat, but how many Christmas cookies can one person eat? (Don’t answer that!)
  5. Stocking stuffers. Just when you thought you were done shopping you remember the F$%King stocking stuffers!
  6. Christmas cards – I LOVE getting them but hate doing them.
  7. Egg nog. Listen egg nog you’re not Coquito so stop trying to be it!
  8. Always being in the holiday spirit. What? You can’t get cranky in December? F^%k that!

Now, don’t pin me for a Scrooge; I am far from one! I really do love the Christmas season — the songs (I mean, Pandora rocks a solid Christmas station!), the sentimental ornaments, the excitement from my boys. It’s just the pressure of the holiday rush that gets to me, which could probably all be AVOIDED if I just got my shopping done before December 1! Oy vey!

 

Posted in That's Life Tagged with: , , ,

My #1 Job as a Mom

The other day I forwarded my 13-year-old son a text I received from his teacher. It was one of those reminder texts that notify me about assignments, tests, or even something sweet like “Happy Weekend,” which I love. I love being in-the-know, and it makes me feel that the teacher cares.  Nevertheless, within minutes of hitting send, the little rat bastard promptly replied, “I know; I get the texts too.” Wherein, I responded as fast as my big thumbs would allow me: “My #1 job as a mom is to nag you. And I believe I am killing it if I do say so myself.”

Because it’s so damn true. The definition of the word nag – “continuous urging.” That really says it all for me, and I bet for most parents.

naɡ

verb // 1. annoy or irritate (a person) with persistent fault-finding or continuous urging.

“She constantly nags her son about the importance of being a good person.”

As a parent, I have to continuously urge my children to do a lot of things — not just the things that bring a little relief into my life like straighten their room, bring the laundry down or take out the garbage. I also continuously urge (like how I did that?) them to do the right thing and help them understand that certain things they need to do in life will help them ‘do life’ as a productive member of society.

On a daily basis, I continuously urge my children to be kind, caring, loving. I continuously, like a broken record, urge them to be respectful to themselves and others, to selflessly give of themselves without wanting something in return. I continuously urge them to open doors for other people, pick litter off the ground, look people in the eye when they are talking, to do these things so they become good people. Cause being a really good salt-of-the-earth person is, to me, a very important thing to be in life.

And my boys can tell you that I continuously urge, ummm, nag (totally works here!) them about the importance of being a really good person.

So, even though my bratty son never replied to my text, I stand by it. I am killing it as a nag! And I take the job of being a nag very seriously. I mean, if my sons become really good people (and they will cause I’ll continuously urge them to do the right thing) AND have the ability to carry 10 lbs. of laundry down two flights of stairs – well, I’ll say I hit pay dirt as a parent (and their future spouses will love me!)! #winning

 

 

 

 

Posted in deanna, deanna verbouwens, The Little Buggers