Are You Frazzled and Frumpy, or Just Plain Nasty?

Look at me. Look closer. Do you see it in my eyes? Pupils dilated? Shifty? Unfocused? Is it hard to tell if I'm about to cry, dissolve into giggles, or start speaking in tongue? Do I look like I might have a deadly explosive tucked into my fake Coach backpack? (Or is that just a box of wet wipes?)

Look at me. Look into my eyes.

This is the look of the Frazzled Mom.

I used to see those moms on the street. I laughed at them. Pitied them, really.  Moms with crazy, jacked-up hair. Moms with mismatched socks. Stained shirts. Moms who were always dropping things...keys, phones, bottles. Moms whose makeup was....not present. Moms who looked like they hadn't seen a shower in weeks.

Didn't they care? Didn't they know how they looked or how strange they acted? They were so frazzled and frumpy!

No, that will NEVER be me, I told myself. I will always remember to moisturize. I will wash my hair, at least every other day. I will apply lipstick and eyeliner. I will diligently coordinate my outfits, and never emerge in tracksuits. I will drink enough fresh-brewed coffee each morning so I keep my shit together in the Albertsons checkout line. I won't leave my wallet in my car. I won't lock myself out of the house.

And I didn't.

I held it together pretty well after I had Marley. (She's now 3.5 years old.)  I took care of myself. I brushed my hair. I applied underarm deodorant. There were bad moments of course, but nothing crazy.

Enter, Baby #2.  And now...well, let's face it...I am one of those moms. I do dumb shit. I look like shit.  I do dumb shit (lock myself out of the house) and drop shit (phone and bottle) while I'm digging through shit (digging in the dirt and Pekingese poop for spare key) and looking like shit.

I am both frazzled and frumpy.

But now that Holland is nine months old...I have noticed an alarming trend. It's not getting any better. In fact... It's getting worse. I am crossing the threshold. Things have escalated beyond FRAZZLED and surpassed FRUMPY.  I am turning into something far worse....something I never planned on, or even imagined.
And now, for your reading pleasure....

Top Nine Signs You're a Frumpy, Frazzled Mom...and Quite Possibly NASTY.*
1. You have hairy, bushly legs and eyebrows. You're going native down South...and if you're NASTY, you have a pair of stinky, hairy pits. That's just sick, get out your razor!
2. You haven't washed your hair in over seven days. You have clumps of dry shampoo flaking off your head and mucking your bangs together. You probably have grey roots. If you're NASTY, you have dandruff.
3. You have dark circles under your eyes...and haven't bothered to properly apply concealer. Cover that sh-t up! Honeybadger don't give a f-ck about your sleepless nights. In the very least, you should be wearing tinted moisturizer, mascara, and lip gloss. GAW. If you don't put anything on your face you're NASTY.
4. You have spitup (or is that shit?) smeared on your Lululemon workout top. That's pretty disgusting, but least you're wearing Lululemon.  If you're wearing a lesser brand go ahead and punch yourself in the face. Pull yourself together, you're NASTY!
5. You just pulled a month-old banana from your double BOB. Yes, bananas will liquefy if you leave that shit in your stroller. You're NASTY!
6. You just left a stinky, poopy diaper and a shit-smeared onesie in the trashcan in the Trader Joe's bathroom at Liberty Station last weekend. You are so beyond nasty.
7. You leave a trail of white powder where ever you go. Stop spilling your Enfamil everywhere...people are going to think you have a drug problem! Mommy's little helper indeed!
8.  When your husband takes you to Vegas for a night away from the kids, you get so drunk at dinner that you try to sneak up to the room to go to sleep at 9pm. When your husband tells you that you have to meet friends out at the club, you cry and try to lock yourself in the bathroom. You forget why you're crying, and you manage to pull it together long enough to change into some sleazy tight pants then tramp around a club in wobbly 4-inch heels.  Yup...you're NASTY.
9. You try to give your baby cheerios before she is ready, so she gags and projectile vomits all over the dining room table. Congratulations, you're not only a crap mom... you're also NASTY!

*I'd like to reiterate that this list is in NO WAY a representation of who I am as a mother. I always, always shave my pits and never, ever leave shitty diapers in Trader Joe's.  Also, I don't drink.

Is there anything I missed? Any other signs that you're a frumpy, frazzled mom...and quite possibly NASTY? If so, please share!

Date Night Disaster!

Okay, so it wasn't exactly a disaster...but it wasn't your typical night out, either.

It started innocently enough. Ian and I were on our Friday Night Date. (Yes folks, I've finally hired a babysitter--that is not a family member--to watch our two little bundles of joy every other Friday night. Now hubs and I can actually have a conversation...with each other. For date nights, I get to apply eyeliner, perfume, and brush my hair. Sometimes I get crazy and put on earrings. But I digress...back to the story.)

We live within easy walking distance of some pretty great restaurants, so we decided to stop at a nice seafood spot for happy hour.

I was in heaven. Giant glasses of red wine, the tastiest selections on the happy hour menu, my awesome husband, and no children in my direct line of vision. Hoorah! Everything was perfect...until I picked up some sushi with my chopsticks, and...


...from underneath my sushi roll....OUT RAN....A ROACH!!!

"No FREAKING WAY!" I jumped. "Did that just happen? Did a roach just crawl out from under my sushi roll?"

"Uh...I think it did!" Ian laughed. The funny thing was, we weren't mad. We found it hilarious. I mean, how often does this actually HAPPEN in ones life, in a high class dining establishment? I wouldn't be shocked to find a short-n-curly on my Taco Bell, but a roach in my sushi roll? Well, that's taking it to the next level.

Luckily, we had Ian's iPhone with him, so we were able to take a photo of the little guy. There he is in all his glory, taking cover under a plate.

"Excuse me," I said when our server--a nice, tall surfer dude--came back to our table. "We have a little friend at our table." Ian lifted the plate to expose the roach.

"NO WAY!" he said. He swiftly scooped the roach off the table into his hands. "I'm so sorry!" He disappeared.

"We are SO getting this meal comped," I smirked to Ian, as we slurped down our next glass of wine.  "For sure," he said.

Then, we got our bill.

"I was able to get you a little discount, considering you had an extra guest at the table," the server said. Wait a second here, a discount?

We inspected the receipt, and we were awarded a TEN DOLLAR DISCOUNT. And it states the reason right there on the receipt...ROACH.

Of course we had to document the receipt. 

So now, you know...if you find a roach in your food at dinner, its good for a ten dollar discount.

I know, I know...we should've complained to the GM or something. But we were having such a great time, and we didn't want a little roach to cramp our style. So we moved onto Candela's for another glass of wine...in a presumably roach-free environment. Oy!

Anyone else had anything nasty crawl out from their dinner on date night? If so, please share!