Dog Days: A Rant

September 8, 2013

Swear Jar Warning! This one’s a doozy. But Kitchy be pissed off. Apologies in advance.


We’re going through a heat wave here–in more ways than one.

Hot Mess #1: the dang weather. 97 degrees in September? Now I know I’ll be bitching about the cold in less than two months, but this kind of mercury in school season is 7 kinds of wrong.

Hot Mess #2: my internal mercury. I have been in denial, denial, denial, but I just can’t fake it anymore. *sob* I have entered the land of The Personal Summer. I should have known in June–when I overheated so massively at the BlogHer Voices of the Year Party that nobody remembered my name. I was just “that blonde chick who was fanning herself with 9 program flyers and stuffing cocktail napkins down her chest.” But even then, I refused to admit it. It was just nerves, right? Ha. This has been the summer of strippage. I begin the day with yoga pants and a hoodie and end it with pasties and a thong. The latter, at my age, ain’t pretty.

Hot Mess #3: flaring tempers. Female-style. I’m pretty sure my husband has buyer’s remorse for signing up for the Minxes and me. We’ve been hissing at each other like agitated camels.

It’s been a couple of pissed off weeks, yo. I am SuperCrank.

I am the person who sent the following reply to my husband’s FB update that he was at the CU football game on Saturday: “Good thing you’re at the game because your older daughter is being a bitch.”

Yeah. I called my eleven-year old a bitch. On Facebook. I am so proud.

But dudes, she was totally being a bitch. This puberty thing is gonna kill me. Or maybe her, if she doesn’t tame this shit down.

All of this hot mess stuff, swirled together like the world’s nastiest funnel cake, results in one thing.

The September Airing of the Grievances:

Why does December get to have all the fun? We’re starting early this year.

* Weather: fuck off.

* Menopause: fuck off

* Puberty: fuck off

Okay. Now that the big guns are accounted for, Petty Grievances can commence.

* Older child: I realize that hormones are running through you faster than shit through a goose, but do they have to cancel out all brain activity? Find one firing synapse, please? If I have to make one more trip back to the middle school to bring onemorecrucialitem that you’ve forgotten, I’m going to blow like Krakatoa. And for those very helpful people who are going to tell me to let her “go without and learn her lesson the hard way,” and that I probably should stop “enabling” her spacey behavior: fuck off. You deal with her when she gets home.

* Dinner: Fuck you, dinner! I am so over you.

* Grocery store: ditto.

* Seminars for Males: how to load a dishwasher, how to throw out an empty cracker/cereal box, how to apologize after explosive farts that everyone heard.

* Older child: you get your period every month. I know this. You know this. We both know it because I mark it with a little dot on the calendar, just so you are on the down-low. Then why do I find fatal undies hidden in the bottom of your laundry basket every 3 1/2 weeks? And not just one pair–we’re talking three or four. How long does it take you to realize that something special is going on down there?

* Mornings: Die, okay?

* Math homework: ditto.

* Adult-onset acne: isn’t the Personal Summer torture enough? The moguls on my chin are seriously crushing my groove. My chin is not Aspen. Desist.

* Football season: Thank you for trying to steal my husband, you tramp. But guess what, honey? You don’t give blow jobs.

* All members of the household except the cat and yours truly: if you pass a turd the size of a Subway sandwich, it is unwise to attempt flushage. I suggest you grab a fishing rod and try to reel that sucker in, because it’s not going down.

* The plumber: your joke about my household needing a “frequent flyer program” is getting old. Snatch your check and get out.

* Sack lunches: see Dinner.

* Seminars for Younger Child: how to flush a toilet, re-hab for public butt scratching, how to open your own water bottle.

* Night sweats: what’s the deal? I’m already drowning the day away and sporting mogul chin. Now you have to visit every two hours? I look like the spawn of Billy Joel and an elephant seal. Give a girl a break.

* The Creepy Meat Man: how can I miss you if you will not go away? No, seriously. Go away.

* The refrigerator: clean yourself, dammit.

* The laundry: see Refrigerator. Especially if fatal undies are involved.

* Older child: Babe, I know puberty is hard. But if you snarl at me one more time? That cell phone you begged for and worked so hard for this summer? It’s finding a home up your ass. Tread softly, pre-teen dream. You’re driving momma crazy, and it’s a short drive.


Sigh. I feel better now.

But don’t think this rant gets you out of the December Airing of the Grievances. December is always power-loaded. All that stinking holiday cheer and Pinterest crafts/baking projects.

I am so excited!

If you are so inclined, feel free to post your grievances in the comments section. Sometimes we girls just gotta air.

Happy September, Readers! May you weather the month without the Bitchies. But if you’re already afflicted, let ’em fly.

{ 42 comments… read them below or add one }

Maria September 8, 2013 at 10:25 am

THANK YOU FOR THIS. My sister and I spent the last week watching my uncle pass from this Earth with nary 12 hours of sleep over the course of 5 days between the two of us. Somehow we still managed to bathe, feed, and monitor the homework of 5 children along with making ourselves presentable enough to get our poor asses to work and deal with Open House. I have been a HOT mess for the past week, dealing with my fabulous monthly cycle, with my grieving mother and aunt, and signing all kinds of funeral home paperwork, trying to anticipate when his ashes would be back. Yesterday, I got to help my two-years-on-chemotherapy-and-I-don’t-have-any-hair-left mother pick out a wig with my sister and our FIVE collective children. Today, I picked up my uncle’s ashes and called the church and cemetery and I still don’t know when the ceremony. I have been teetering between unexplained sobbing and DENIAL. My almost 13 year old is watching me like a hawk, no doubt worried that his tough as shit mother is about to go down in EPIC proportions. But this entry, right down to the fatal undies and football tramp that won’t give head, had me on the floor. And I SO needed that. XO


TKW September 8, 2013 at 10:41 am


FUCK. I am so sorry that you’re dealing with all of this. You can email me any time if you need to vent or call me. I’ll PM you my #. I’m here if you need an ear. That’s just a lot to deal with.

I’m happy that I gave you a laugh, though. It made me feel so much better that I did.


Foodiewife September 8, 2013 at 11:13 am

Working with high school kids, reminds me how much easier it is to raise boys. Less drama. Still, I admit that I didn’t like my son as much from age 13-19. It was a very ugly time. Stiff, stinky socks that he refused to change until two weeks had gone by is something I don’t wish on anyone. I needed a gas mask to enter his bedroom, to retried moldy dishes and missing glassware. Gross. What a rant! Absolutely hilarious. I know you can’t wait for the beige Thanksgiving season. My rant? Definitely with you on the Pinterest crafts. I have no artistic talent. I find myself admiring the craft, then telling myself “as if”. Ain’t gonna happen in my house. Need a brand new glue gun, that’s never been used. I’ll send it to you.


TKW September 8, 2013 at 12:14 pm


You own a glue gun? Get out. I would have no idea what to do with that thing. Except maybe glue-gun my pre-teen dream’s mouth shut…


Jamie September 8, 2013 at 12:08 pm

The fact that you called your 11 year old a bitch on Facebook is HILARIOUS and AWESOME. Or maybe I’m just a deranged bitch myself? Regardless, I’m “team kitch” on all matters.

I love my students to death, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to (literally) punch them in the throat at times. I gotta believe the same logic applies to mothering.

Lastly, I am so guilty of the fatal undies thing. I have 80+ pairs of Victoria Secret underthings, because every month I accidentally “fatalize” all of them, then buy new ones thinking the cycle (pardon the pun) won’t repeat itself…


TKW September 8, 2013 at 12:15 pm


But it takes only one fatal undie to call you to action, right? Why does it take D. FOUR? Is she menstrually challenged?


Abby September 8, 2013 at 12:54 pm

Just when I think I couldn’t love you more, you go and post good crap like this. LOVE IT. WTF with 91 in September, right? That’s what it’s going to be here until Wednesday. I effing hate it and in protest, refuse to water my flowers anymore. I want fall, but we’ll probably go straight into winter before another tropical wave.

Also, I was going to blog about this but didn’t want to sound bitchy, so I’ll air it here: Stop the glorification of busy, everyone! I’m Over people complaining about how busy they are on 80 different social networking sites while “building their brand” and kissing the ass of everyone else in the blog world. Drop the ego. Pick up a book. Life is already busy. Don’t make more work for yourself. Your shit still stinks.

Plus, yes, there are ugly babies and most ultra sound pictures look like a seahorse holding a chicken McNugget. I also do not want to engage in fake “how was your weekend?” chitchat at work Monday morning. My weekend was great because I wasn’t at work. Enough said.


TKW September 8, 2013 at 1:29 pm


I NEED the blog-world/FB rant. And kill those competitive “busy” people. Bring it, bitch…


Sherri September 8, 2013 at 2:40 pm

I so love that someone else has such a rough “airing of the grievances” for Sept. I mean…. let’s just say it – “Fuck you, Sept, entirely’ :).

Hang in there – really – you KNOW it will get better. I’ve been obsessing over a filling that needs to be replaced today (like obsessing to the end that I don’t pay attention to driving, talking people, dinner cooking, etc.) just so I don’t have to worry about oldest’s college apps, youngest leaving me for full day kindergarten on Monday, two boys so overscheduled, they are wringing their hands and crying themselves to sleep at night, and some bitch on the lacrosse booster committee who talks down to me – even in email….. oh – and I forgot the kids’ riding lesson today and that bitch actually hung up on me when I was apologizing.

Anyway – deep breath – you’re not imagining things – the heat is messing with you – adolescents are bitchy – being 40 something is usually pretty cool but sometimes sucks – will be all good again soon……. I’m with ya.


TKW September 8, 2013 at 3:04 pm


Those are definite September woes. Worst woe (for me) is the filling, because I am one of those freaks who fears the dentist. But all of the rest certainly register on the Fuckery Scale. Tell lacrosse booster mommy and riding teacher mommy to calm the Hell down or (as my parents like to say) to “go piss up a rope.”

Whatever that means. All my life, I’ve never had a clue. It feels good to say it, anyways.


Shannon September 8, 2013 at 2:49 pm

It is going to be 93 here on Tuesday. I plan to avoid leaving the air-conditioned house at all costs. I want to wear jeans and hooded sweatshirts and not have sweat dripping between my boobs.
And I am totally with Abby up there – sick of people wearing busy like a badge of honor. I really do not care how many emails someone has in their inbox.
Those are my grievances. As for yours, early puberty sucks – for the girl and the mom. Hang in there.


Kel September 8, 2013 at 5:52 pm

I am all about the Bitching, Grievancing, and fucking off to multiple things.

My job – I cannot imagine how much more fucked up working for the state can get, but I think it’s about to show me.

My second job – so tired of the stupid paperwork when people can’t figure out their shit.

My pseudo husband – it’s called “depression”. Put your big boy pants on, and DEAL with it for fuck’s sake. You and I are supposed to be friends, but it gets old after a while when your river in Egypt floods my life.

My oldest – I cannot fathom where you got the “lazy ass” gene from, but you need to get over it, at least while you’re still living in my house for the duration of your grad school. You’re driving me up the fucking wall.

My middle – oh my fucking DOG, why are you still living with him? Your relationship is doomed anyhow – please just end it. Christ on a jet ski.

My youngest – I know you’re still settling into dorm life. But you need to get your shit together and chill the fuck out about stuff.

The health issues that I’ve been hiding from most people are getting to where I can’t always hide them anymore. I really need to figure this out fast to get it back under control. I’ve fucking well had it with this shit. I am 42, for fuck’s sake, not 80.

I won’t even get started on my bio family right now. There just isn’t enough booze in the pantry for that.

But Dana, I gotta tell you. Having gone through the puberty thing with 3 kids, all within a few years? You have my sympathies. I will pass the bottle and the joint to you just as soon as I take a hit off of both.


TKW September 8, 2013 at 6:08 pm


“The river in Egypt” line made me laugh so hard.

What is going on with you physically? Not so much.
Are you okay?

I am here if you need someone.


elizabeth September 8, 2013 at 6:46 pm

My whole reply is a SwearJar! moment of petty things:

I’d like to give a huge FUCK YOU to my piriformis muscles, as they are making my favorite lift (deadlifts) really uncomfortable and I ended up in tears trying to lift 195 pounds today and failing. That *never* happens, and this is not the heaviest weight I’ve ever lifted so I’m angry and kind of freaked out as to why that’s the case. I’m due for a break in a few weeks when I head to Chicago, but in the meantime it sucks. I need to stretch and strengthen them, but it’s irritating as fuck.

I’d also like to give a nice fuck off to my internet connection, as it’s being slow and it made buying airline tickets a 30-minute affair this morning.

To Richard Blais: FUCK YOU for not only being one of the judges on Guy Fieri’s new cooking game show, but also telling people to watch a “neat” new show on the Food Network called Rachel vs. Guy: Kids Edition! I was *rooting* for you man!

To the people who give Anna Gunn (the actress who plays Skyler White on Breaking Bad) death threats? Go suck a bag of dicks. Seriously.

Fuck you, Connecticut, for not being Spain. And fuck you for having crappy people making up the majority of your population.

BLERG. At least you can chalk up the crazy heat to it still technically being summer. We haven’t had any good, beach-worthy heat since our insane heat wave back in July; with any hope the jet stream will move it out of your area and send it to our neck of the woods.

Hang in there, and send me an email!


TKW September 9, 2013 at 11:38 am


What IS that with the Anna Gunn hating? So weirdo!

And I am wicked impressed that you know what a piriformis muscle even is!


Gappa Guy September 8, 2013 at 9:50 pm

Damn,,,, You girls are brutal. Your oldest is gonna wash “your” mouth out with soap. Man, Brutal…..
You owe the swear jar $127 and 52.7 cents there kiddo, and stay off Facebook, the NSA reads that shit.


Tiffany September 9, 2013 at 3:09 am

Thanks for the laugh this morning! I would like to add Husbands Who Forget We Have 3 Kids Who Play Sports and Do Activities: I called you a wahmbulance on Saturday a.m. And you ruined our entire weekend with your pouting over no “you” time. Get the fuck over yourself.


TKW September 9, 2013 at 11:40 am


A “wahmbulance?” That is hilarious!


Barbara September 9, 2013 at 5:13 am

I hope you’re feeling better after your rant. :) (And all the other commentors too.) Wow. Maybe you should all join a club kike the one my MIL’s pals started…the MM’s. Menopause Mamas. Imagine they spent a lot of time griping.
Stay off Facebook!
Guess it’s been too long for me to remember. Thankfully. There are some advantages to mid 70’s.


Suzi Q September 9, 2013 at 7:07 am

Oh shit yes, it has been exaclty like that over here. Get it all out! I just feel a lot better knowing I’m not going bat shit crazy and there’s someone else in the world going through the same thing!


Alison September 9, 2013 at 7:28 am

I’m sorry for all the grievances but thank you for making me laugh!

I’m going to email you a picture I took today, to cheer you up. Cool?

My grievance? My 3.5 year old is acting like an asshole and we’re on vacation. Ugh.


TKW September 9, 2013 at 10:21 am


I hate it when they’re assholes on vacation! It’s supposed to be fun, dammit! Argh!

Send the photo–I’d love to see it!


Erica September 9, 2013 at 8:13 am

Dentist. Today. 3PM. Starting bridge work. Nervous wreck all day at work.


TKW September 9, 2013 at 10:22 am


I hate the dentist. I fear the dentist. You have my sympathy.


Mary Lee September 9, 2013 at 9:33 am

Park my rant here? Sure. Like parking a two-wheeler next to a Lamborghini.

Nobody does it like you do, Flash!


TKW September 9, 2013 at 10:23 am

Mary Lee,

Your comment made me cackle. I love you!


Arnebya September 9, 2013 at 11:15 am

The problem is, babe, that my rants don’t end. I have run-on rants. Bitches. And if I gave you some, I’d have to give you all, and believe me, neither you nor your readers want that to happen. But hemorrhoids. I will mention hemorrhoids.


TKW September 9, 2013 at 11:41 am


Argh! Ass barnacles! Those are the worst!


Velva September 9, 2013 at 12:08 pm

My friend you know how to write it well…


Wendi @ Bon Appetit Hon September 9, 2013 at 12:54 pm

So if we’re getting a double dose of Festivus this year, I want to know when the Feats of Strength are planned. I’m going to make sure the box of wine and I have a ring side seat ; )


Mr TKW September 9, 2013 at 6:57 pm

Wow. The rant is side-splitting hilarious! And the comments are a riot, too.


Lisa @ The Meaning of Me September 9, 2013 at 7:33 pm

OK, I don’t even have to rant because you totally covered all of mine. I don’t have the puberty thing or the fatal undies issue, but I can see your puberty and raise you an overtired, overstressed, ADHD Kindergartener throwing massive tantrums ten seconds before stepping into church on Sunday and spitting at new classmates. I think which one sucks more depends on the day. I keep thinking this phase will pass, though, and then I think…oh, wait, there’s girl-mones and teenage PMS and female attitude PLUS the ADHD on the horizon. Awe. Some.

Sorry stuff sucks right now…rant away. I swear it helps. When I get done doing that, the Hub says “are you done”? I say something that might snarkily resemble a yes and he says “OK, good, now we can move on.” The man is ridiculously calm. Thank God. I need that.

Hope things calm down soon!


TKW September 9, 2013 at 8:13 pm


You must be okay because you don’t want to immediately shank your man when he says “are you done?”

Ah, you cool-tempered women.


Lisa @ The Meaning of Me September 11, 2013 at 3:16 pm

Depends on the day…



Tinne from Tantrums and Tomatoes September 10, 2013 at 2:44 am

“My chin is not Aspen” That is so good!
Since I am wearing closed high heeled pumps for the first time in MONTHS (we had a good summer…) my rant deals mainly with sweaty feet and cramped toes.


Jennifer September 10, 2013 at 6:47 pm

My biggest grievance right now is everything starting and wanting my money at the same time. Dance, girl scouts, soccer, etc. Couldn’t they all get together and phase in or something.


Katybeth September 11, 2013 at 8:28 am

It’s been hot in Chicago. Really, Really, hot! Sorry for your troubles but at least your spelling Mom!!!


Rudri Bhatt Patel @ Being Rudri September 15, 2013 at 8:39 am

It is September. It is a 108 degrees in the desert. So over the heat.

I love you for laying it all out there. Even your rants show vulnerability. xoxo


Sam September 17, 2013 at 11:03 am

Requesting rants is such a dangerous thing….but dangerous can be fun shit too.

* Brother In Law – your living in my basement for FREE. The least you could do is ask if you can host booty calls in my house. Or at least give me more than a 3 second notice. FUCK YOU and your statement of “I have company”. It’s my goddamn house. I’d rather buy you a bottle of lotion.

* Dear Stupid Husband – tell your brother he’s being an asshole. Or let me! I’d happily tell him he’s thinking like a horny 19 year old boy instead of a 37 year old father. I frankly don’t think it’s that harsh. It’s quite an accurate statement.

* Daughter – for the love of christ and all things chocolate…PLEASE stop making that noise while simultaneous giving me that look. You’re only 7. I’m suppose to have a few more decent years before you hate me. Unless of course your evil plan is to slowly kill me via batshitcrazy episodes.

* The boy – oh the boy! Do you and your sister have a side bet of who can make me go more batshitcrazy? Because I swear to God I’ll win. Is your father behind this? Is he punishing me because he’s so awesome and I’m not? Is he really working through you?

That is all…before I loose my shit right here at my desk. The office already has enough reasons to wonder about me without my hair being pulled out one strand at time.


Sam September 17, 2013 at 11:04 am

Oh….and FUCK the floods too.


TKW September 18, 2013 at 7:49 am


Sing it, sister!


kb October 16, 2013 at 11:10 pm

Oh geez, first, all the above rants, right there with you and how does a 6 & 8 yr old clog toilets, your poop should not be that big! Doing my best plunging effort to not face the wrath of the plumber man. Lunch/dinner prep equally sucks. Other rants: AT&T, I pay you an ass load of money each month for “combo service”, the one day the kids are fast asleep and I want to catch up you tell me it is a bad battery? Serious, my sanity which is quite possibly kept in tact by late night TV is at the mercy of a stupid battery? AT&T, you can suck it. And the asshole that decided to push back daylight savings time by 3 weeks can suck it as well. Note to school, it is dark at 7:15 am right now, thanks to the daylight savings time asshole, not such a good week for testing to start right on time as evidenced by the 40 cars behind me at carpool when I am just barely on time. And Jon Bon Jovi, your concert sucked without Richie S. that’s it, I feel better.


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