The Coffee Break Series: blog

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Sunday, May 10, 2015

THE FIRST RULE OF #MOTHERHOOD

Motherhood is considered a thankless job by some and a blessing by others.

Over the twenty plus years that I have been a member of the Moms Club, my perspective has changed again and again and again. Each milestone brings with it new challenges, new experiences, and if you're looking for it, plenty of laughs.

For the past few weeks, as Mother's Day approaches, I've been tweeting some of my real time observations and am sharing them with all my fellow club members today .

#ItsAMomThing

Some are nice:

Motherhood is needing a nap, but not wanting to miss even a second with your kids.. .

Motherhood is listening to other parents groan about their kids being out of school for the summer while you secretly do a happy dance...

Some are unspoken understandings:

First rule of motherhood: We all know the kids make the schedules, but we don't talk about it.

Motherhood is buying the pizza, but not actually getting a slice...

A few are sacrifices that come with the job:

Some make you laugh hard enough to get you through the day:

I love my kids...I swear I love my kids...

Motherhood is not talking to your kids in the same way you would as if it was a total stranger that threw up on your shoes...

Motherhood is smiling because your kids are being nice to each other--about three seconds before one starts screaming that the other licked her face...

Some defy categorization:

And some make you feel like the luckiest girl ever:

Motherhood is full of surprises. Like when you tell the kids to clean the house and you get no response--because they are actually cleaning.

#Motherhood
is being tackled by your kids on Mother's Day. And although you are lying underneath three bodies, knees bruised and hip probably broken, you choke back tears. Not because you are being strangled by their intense hugs, but because you feel completely and utterly LOVED.

CF Winn is the award-winning author of The COFFEE BREAK SERIES, a quirky group of short stories meant to be read while on break or in the waiting room of the doctor’s office. Her first novella, SUKI, has been grabbing hearts and hugging souls all over the United States.

You can now order SUKI in paperback at http://hopress-shorehousebooks.com/cf-winn/ or at BOOK REVUE, one of the nation’s largest independent bookstores, by email at info@bookrevue.com Learn more about SUKI at BOOK REVUE.

CF Winn is the founder of Winning! Publications, a firm specializing in editing and promotion services for authors. Her latest project is the just released Trailer Trash, With a Girl’s Name, a hilarious and heartwarming story of a boy saddled with a girl’s name and forced into a nomadic existence. Order it now: http://www.amazon.com/Trailer-Trash-With-Girls-Name-ebook/dp/B00IX0MIAO

FOLLOW me on Twitter, Facebook, Google +, and CF_Winn on Instagram.

Tuesday, October 21, 2014

You Know You're Modern Day Trailer Trash When...

Back in the day, being trailer trash literally meant living in a recreational vehicle of some sort. Just ask Stacey Roberts, the author of the recently released book, TRAILER TRASH, WITH A GIRL’S NAME. I was lucky enough to edit his manuscript, and upon doing so, I discovered that for much of his life, he traveled the country with his family…and his home.

Along the way, he learned a few things. Like how much he hated his mother’s cooking.

One summer he wrote letters to all of the TV chefs he could think of:

Dear Julia Childs,

Will you please come to my house and teach my mother how to cook? Last night she made us turkey necks and pinto beans. It tasted like the socks of a Roman legionnaire on campaign in Syria. There must be a better way. For the next few weeks, you can find me in California. After that, New Mexico. Then possibly Nevada. Check your brakes BEFORE you go down the hill overlooking Hoover Dam.

Thanks.

Sincerely,

Stacey Roberts (by the way, I’m a BOY, a BOY who needs decent food so I can grow up and change my name)

A few years and multiple reality checks later, Stacey became something of a math whiz. By the time he was twelve, he could look at a building with an actual foundation and tell you how many RV’s could fit in it:

1. The White House - seventeen

2. Madison Square Garden - eleven

3. My house – four and a half if we cut off one RV bathroom. It’s an extravagant extra that’s always clogged anyway.

By the time he was in high school, according to his book, Stacey had been electrocuted, run over, ignored, and given a girl’s name. After editing his hysterical set of anecdotes and learning a little about what it means to be trapped on the road with a mom who can’t cook or remember anyone’s name, I got to thinking about how times have changed, and how we use the term “Trailer Trash” now.

With the introduction of technology, poverty has a new face. For example, if you’re a family of four with only one laptop and one cell phone that you all share, you just might be trailer trash. Laws are being changed, and we have seen a few states allowing the legalization of pot. If you are still lighting up a few times a day and wondering what all the fuss is about, you just might be trailer trash.

Things have snuck up on us quickly, and we have had to adapt without really thinking about it. But if you just stop for a moment and look around, you might be surprised to learn that you too are living the life:

1. Your wife says, “Hon, the Millers are coming over. Let’s put out the good stuff.” You immediatelyhead straight for the beloved set of Disney plates you found at a yard sale.

2. Tight leopard print, Snooki clothing is as much a staple as the little black dress…actually, if you’ve got leopard, you don’t need anything else, including underwear.

3. When a huge storm is coming, you rush to the store for milk, beer, and wine.

4. You TSK and pull over when you see bulk items left for trash on the side of the road – they were perfectly fine and now sit proudly in your living room, dining room, and bedroom.

5. You see an RV for sale and think, why wait ten years till the kids graduate?

6. On Linked In, you list your current occupation as Collector of Lightly Used Items instead of Hoarder.

7. Your kids grow up knowing how to read, write, and mix an excellent kamikaze.

8. You’d rather watch COPS than the Discovery channel…just so you can say you know a bunch of the stars.

9. Your Facebook profile picture has most of your teeth photoshopped in.

10. When you’re stressed out, you don’t reach for the phone to call your therapist, you reach for another bottle of wine…and your computer so you can post about it.

11. Your family’s idea of Sunday dinner together includes Big Macs, Chicken McNuggets, and Fries…in front of the TV so you don’t have to DVR WWE.

12. Your uncle can’t decide if the perfect getaway is Rikers Island or Leavenworth.

13. Your Twitter handle includes the words: Trailer Trash, Redneck, or Selfie.

14. You’re not allowed to use the beer empties to set off your bottle rockets…because then we can’t cash it in for the five cent deposit.

15. You get a ride to school in your house, which doubles as the family car after 8am.

16. Your Tumblr blog includes a picture of a bumper sticker that reads, I’d rather be reading TRAILER TRASH, WITH A GIRL’S NAME because after this hilarious book goes public, not only will you want to buy a copy, but you’ll pass around the meme:

FOLLOW me on Twitter, Facebook, Google +, and CF_Winn on Instagram.

Friday, April 4, 2014

Ramblings of A Cat Addict

This week, A Cheeto Named Larry and I have decided to pull a Freaky Friday kind of switch on you. She's posting on my site, and I've hijacked hers. I'm always delighted by whatever she has to say...but then again, I actively seek out jokes about things like pooping and farting... Since this post contains neither of those, and I'm still encouraging you to read it, that says something.

Don't forget to leave a comment below because I want Larry to feel like royalty...and like I'm really popular...Enjoy!

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Recently I asked CF Winn to guest write for my site, and she graciously agreed. Plus I totally put her on the spot. I was like the kid that stands there and pokes his mother: “Mama. Mama. Mama. Will you? Huh? Mama. Will you? Huh? Mama.” Just like that. That was me.

The next conversation went something like this:

CF Winn: Well would you like…(to follow me on Twitter)

Me: To be a guest writer on your site? You bet I would!

CF Winn: Well, actually, I was just going to…(see if you wanted to follow me on Twitter)

Me: You don’t have to beg. Really, I’ll be happy to do it.

CF Winn: Um…oook…well…(are you fucking crazy??)

Me: This is crazy! We’ve become so close I can already finish your sentences. I’ll have a post for you soon!

That’s how this whole thing began. And I was pretty excited. But then, after a while, I really started to worry about writing this post. For one, what if I taint her site with all my cuss words? I was once told that I must not be very intelligent if I can’t write or speak without cursing. I told that lady, “Hey F-you lady”, because she sounded like big fat stupid dumdum, and I just wasn’t going to stoop down to her level.

Writing for yourself is one thing, but writing for someone else can really put the pressure on. And that’s when you find out what you’re made of. I wasn’t very impressed with what I was made of. I sat down to write this post at least a dozen times. Here is just a small handful of the thoughts that pulled me away from my mission:

1. It’s 3 o’clock. Time for wine.

2. If I don’t catch up on the Young and the Restless, the DVR will start dumping episodes. This is serious.

3. Ooh…a butterfly…

4. Did that dog just burp?

5. That wine is not gonna drink itself.

6. How did Dr. Frasier Crane ever stay in business for more than a week?

7. If I had to choose between him and Niles, I’d go with Daphne.

8. I need to pull those weeds. And maybe get a glass of wine.

9. (chin resting in hand) I really wish I could meet Big Foot.

10. There just aren’t enough funny cat videos out there.

So as you can see, it’s been rough. But I finally pulled myself together, put on my big girl panties, and sat down to discover the words flowed freely from my fingertips like, when they open the gate for pigs, how all those pigs run out real fast. It was like that.

But as the words came out, I realized…this is just a post about a post. What kind of asshole writes a post about a post? This shit isn’t even legit, but I’m already committed. How do I turn what I have into an actual meaningful post that people will truly want to read?

Then it hit me! By adding a cat video. Everybody loves cat videos.

But then I think, that’s dumb. CF Winn is not a cat person, therefore she would not enjoy the video. But as I was contemplating all this, it did remind me of a story that I thought she would appreciate…

Many years ago I was the crazy cat lady. I’m in recovery now, but once an addict, always an addict. Anyhow, I had a cat named Steve. Steve was of a very mischievous nature and often found himself caught up in rather precarious positions. Like the time he was playing with the fishing lure, got hooked in the paw and then ran around the house dragging the fishing pole behind him. It was bloody mayhem. But that’s not the story.

This is the story.

Steve was always getting into shit and he really made me mad because he would always get away before I could spank him. Well one evening, I’d laid down to go to sleep and heard a terrible noise like “Kghhhhh….”, and it got louder. “KGKGHHHHH”. Say it with me: “KGGGGHHHKKHH”. I’m all, what the fuck…

Then Steve starts ripping and tearing through the house, over my chest, through the bathroom, and back into the living room, all the while making guttural noises unlike anything I’ve ever heard.

While I was extremely curious what was going on, I was lazier than I was curious, so I figured if he was having some kind of seizure, well it was nice knowing ya Steve. I settled back into my pillow.

Now, I said I was the crazy cat lady, which means I had multiple cats. Another cat, Sooie, started to do the same thing Steve was doing. “KGKGHHHH”, and then took off running like a bat out of hell. There was some sort of epidemic going on it seemed.

I peered out into the shadows of the living room, and I see my third cat, Larry, batting something around. To me, in the dark, it looks like a turd. But when Larry bites it, he suddenly freaks the fuck out too. I could no longer deny that I had to get my ass out of bed because now all three cats have evidently bitten something poisonous and are all shooting through the house faster than those pigs flew out of my fingertips. They’re all going different directions, all going KGKGHHHHH, and it’s just a general sense of chaos at this point because I don’t know what kind of enemy I’m dealing with.

WELL.

When I got up and turned on the light, there in the middle of the floor, lay a very dead, but still lethal…

…wait for it…

….jalapeno pepper.

Upon further inspection, I found the refrigerator door to be wide open, all my peppers spread out onto the kitchen floor, and a half-empty can of cat food littering the scene. And I thought….yeah….karma mother fuckers.

So as you can see, I ended up turning a post about a post into a post about a post about a cat who got what was fucking coming to him. And I think that’s something we can all appreciate.

When I'm not MMA street fighting, I'm saving kittens from sinking battleships. I once humanized a cheeto to the extent that I began the blog A Cheeto Named Larry. Then one day I got pissed, deleted it, and threw Larry in the trash. I've hated my own fat guts ever since, so I spend everyday making up for it with the new and improved A Cheeto Named Larry. Writing is the only thing that matters. Besides sleeping, eating, kittens. But not eating sleeping kittens. That would be upsetting.

Journey McGuire is the owner of http://acheetonamedlarry.com/ and contributor for http://humoroutcasts.com/.