First world kid problems

My kids complain a lot. Well, not more than most, just 99% more than I want to hear. Which is basically none. Most of the time, it ends up making me laugh though because they complain about shit that is just ridiculous and so first worldly of them. Like their food being too hot or their DVD not loading fast enough. A few of you shared some of you kids' first world problem and photos with me and thus was born my first edition of First World Kid Problems. Enjoy.

Have pics of your kids being whiny assholes or first world problems you want to see published in my next post? Send them to me at ilikebeerandbabies @ gmail.com!

If you share this post, I will buy you a pony. I suck at Twitter. I am OK at Facebook. Pinterest is my bitch. I am also on Bloglovin' and Instagram.

How to make holiday shopping painless (when you don't have a bottle of tequila).

Our house is overrun with toys. I feel like at any minute the toys will start overflowing and Barbies and Legos will start pouring out of our windows like popcorn in the movie Real Genius. Every year around this time I make an effort to go through what the kids have outgrown or have duplicates of and donate the like-new toys to Toys for Tots. But that only brings the situation from threat level red to orange.

But, alas, the time of year has come where even more plastic crap will soon be making its way into our house thanks to the wonderful and loving people who are our well-meaning family and friends. I am incredibly grateful that anyone is generous and thoughtful enough to buy my kids gifts. But sometimes common sense just doesn't enter the gift-giving process.


Here is a list of a few things to not buy my kids for Christmas this year (or ever):

Things that are way over my kid's pay grade 
A lot of gifts we receive are for kids that are more than twice their age. This is lovely and all, but the toys basically sit and collect dust until my kids can understand them and by the time they can, I have either buried them under three tons of other crap, or they are so completely uncool that my kids wouldn't touch them with a 10-foot pole. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle erector sets, grandma? These are so 2014.

Things that are choking hazards
On the same age-appropriate note, though one of my kids is old enough to play with toys with small pieces, the other is not. So buying my 4-year-old Polly Pockets is AWESOME until she plays them with her 2-year-old brother and says, "Here, play with this tiny shoe. I hope you choke on it."

Things that take up an entire room People like to be generous when giving gifts to kids. Which is freaking awesome. Except when their generosity comes in the form of toys that take up an entire room. Though the 16-foot blow-up ball pit was a super awesome score for the kids, I now have to watch TV while sitting in the middle of it.

Toys that my kid obviously already has
Wow, a set of blocks? I TOTALLY never thought to get my 4-year-old blocks. You are a genius. Let me put these right next to the 16 other sets of blocks she has because she is FOUR and not a homeless child who lives on the street.

Things that require D batteries
Seriously. Just stop. Those things are like $5k a piece and each toy that uses them needs at least four of them to work. And then 15 minutes later…it needs four more. Mama is broke and that toy is ANNOYING!

Things that require ninja-like skills to assemble
If it takes more than five minutes to assemble, please, please, please either assemble it before you give it to them or don't buy it. Christmas sucks major ass when we are in the middle of 3,000 tons of empty boxes and wrapping paper and my kids just HAS TO play with Barbie's ski chalet RIGHT NOW. I am still in my pajamas and haven't had any wine yet, so I am not prepared to work an allen wrench, hammer and power saw to put Barbie's winter timeshare together right now. OK, stop crying. I will just get some duct tape and super glue and this shit is on.

He got another set of blocks...

But in our family, we don’t just have to navigate the gift-giving hell that is Christmas, we also have to figure out what to do for the kids birthdays. Because for some reason I am only fertile during times that will end with my children being born during the shitstorms that are Thanksgiving and Christmas. So, yeah, I have THREE gift-giving holidays coming up. JOY!

The mere thought of organizing all of the gifts needed for birthdays and Christmas, then relaying said requests to the interested parties, makes my eye twitch. But I have found a way to get it all done in a way that doesn't end with me wanting to punch a kitten: Giftster.

Giftster let me make a list for everyone in my family and then add crap to the lists from all over the internets. Then I just email the link to my list to my friends and family who ask what everyone wants. Here are my lists for Me, ADD Daddy, The Cool Cucumber and The Quiet Contemplator.

So far I have added stuff from Target, Blik, Amazon and even a site for a race series that I want to enter. And to thwart more plastic from sneaking its way into my house, I have added links for concerts my kids would like, Zoo memberships and dance classes. Because how freaking cool would it be for Grandpa to take them to see Frozen on Ice so Mommy doesn’t have to? Right?

So, basically, I am winning at the whole birthday/Christmas thing this year thanks to Giftster. And you can suck it, Santa.

If you share this post, I will buy you a pony. I suck at Twitter. I am OK at Facebook. Pinterest is my bitch. I am also on Bloglovin' and Instagram.

This post was sponsored by Giftster but you Boozehounds know I would NEVAH EVAH subject you to anything I didn't think was amazeballs on my own. For realzies. 

Toddler-to-teenager Contract

My kids love the shit out of me right now. They think I am thebomb.com. They think I am the smartest, prettiest, funniest person they have ever met. I am their hero, their provider, and their earth, sun and moon at the moment. But I know that someday that will change.

Hormones, peer pressure and life will soon cloud their vision of their mommy. There will be times when they hate me for my mere existence. And it is not their fault. Or mine. But I know it will happen, no matter how good of a mom I am.

So I decided to do something about it. Now. I made them sign a contract to like me and acknowledge my existence even when they become overly-hormonal jerks. And I am going to lock it in the safe and pull it out whenever they start acting like assholes just because they're teenagers. Because what kind of mother would I be if I didn't manipulate my toddlers into signing a legally binding contract to love me? Wait...don't answer that.

If you click on The Quiet Contemplator's contract, you can download your own for your kiddos to fill out. Be sure to let me know if you forced had your little pumpkins put pen to paper to protect your future relationship.

If you share this post, I will buy you a pony. I suck at Twitter. I am OK at Facebook. Pinterest is my bitch. I am also on Bloglovin' and Instagram.

I’m so (not) fancy.

So as you may have gathered by reading my blog, following me on social media or, god forbid, knowing me in person, I am about as fancy and high falutin’ as they come. Wait for it…wait for it…NOT!

Note the missing screen and home button. Oops...

I have had the same iPhone through about 14 upgraded generations and only finally bit the bullet and upgraded to the 6 when mine started literally cutting a bitch: me. Since my track record has not been so great with dropping it face-down on hard surfaces multiple times a day, I decided I might need to add a bit of a protective layer to my new phone—more like I should just cover myself in bubble wrap on the daily because I am a complete and total accident-prone idiot.

I also recently received an iPad mini as a gift and wanted it to last longer than our last iPad, which died a swift death at the hands of me and one-too-many glasses of wine during a Project Runway marathon. Oops. But I made that shit work for three more years by covering the shattered glass with clear packing tape. Take that, Tim Gunn!

I like things that are a bit different so I searched Zazzle since I have used them in the past and am super happy with their style and quality. I was not disappointed. If anything, I was overwhelmed. Holy fucking selection, Batman!

A little upgrade. The bottom reads: I'm so (not) fancy.

If you need to keep your electronics under wraps and want to be a little sassy or pick something personalized, check out Zazzle. Use the code URCUSTOMCASE to get 30% off through November 26, 2014! 

And to my new electronics: you’re WELCOME!

If you share this post, I will buy you a pony. I suck at Twitter. I am OK at Facebook. Pinterest is my bitch. I am also on Bloglovin' and Instagram.

This post was sponsored by Zazzle but they didn't break my iPhone nor my arm to force me to use one of their cases. They know I was trained by Chuck Norris and would big the pain if they ever forced anything on me.

Marital Sex Negotiators FTW

Because, well...yes. Just so much yes. You're welcome.



If you share this post, I will buy you a pony. I suck at Twitter. I am OK at Facebook. Pinterest is my bitch. I am also on Bloglovin' and Instagram.

If I turn up dead, you'll know where to look...

You guys, I did it. I know this story is going to become an urban legend, but I swear to God it is true. It happened to me. Not a friend of my friend’s cousin’s brother’s ex-girlfriend. Me. 

You probably won't believe me but I promise it is the truth. So, here it is: I went to Target and only bought the things on my list—AND spent under $100. I know this sounds crazy but it is real.

I know I am putting my life on the line admitting something like this. There will be people looking for me to erase the truth. But I am willing to sacrifice myself to help others. You really don't have to go through the dollar aisle. Or browse the kids’ clothes. Or peruse the clearance end caps. It is all just part of the man's master plan. Don't fall for it.

Needless to say, I am really scared right now. I plan to go into hiding until things calm down a bit. If for some reason I go missing without a trace, you will know where to look. Follow the red bull's-eye to my killer.

Until we meet again, stay strong and put down that damn Red Card! 

xoxo

The Beer Bitch

If you share this post, I will buy you a pony. I suck at Twitter. I am OK at Facebook. Pinterest is my bitch. I am also on Bloglovin' and Instagram.

Because someday you might need someone to help you bury a body.

I’ve written about friendship before. About how to be a good friend. 

One of the main ways I stay in touch with my friends nowadays is by having movie night. Every Wednesday night. At my house. Crazy, I know, but it is so easy to fall out of touch with the people that you care about, yet so easy to stay in touch with them if you just try a little.

So every Wednesday, my closest group of friends come over and we all make a meal together, share a few drinks and watch a movie. Usually we stream something horrible on Netflix, like Sharknado, Cockneys vs Zombies or Strippers vs werewolves (seriously, those last two movies exist and are freaking hilarious). But no matter what is on the TV or our plates, we all get to spend some quality time hanging out. 

As parents, we rarely find time to do things like this for ourselves. We are so focused on our children’s lives and friends, that we rarely take a minute to care about our own.

One night, instead of watching a movie, we all worked together to build a fort. And then we got drunk in that fort. And, god damn it, THAT was awesome. Because our kids don’t have to be awake for us to have fun. 

The Fort

I have even played Play-Doh with my friends before. Granted, there were a lot of dicks molded out of my kids’ clay, but they were colorful and AWESOME dicks.

Sorry, kids...

So gather your friends. Make time for them. Watch a game, make some dicks or play some Cards Against Humanity (LOVE that game and Rush Limbaugh's soft, shitty body). Just be sure to stop being the perfect parent and have fun with your adult friends every once in a while. I promise it won’t hurt.

If you share this post, I will buy you a pony. I suck at Twitter. I am OK at Facebook. Pinterest is my bitch. I am also on Bloglovin' and Instagram.

Raising independent children isn’t child abuse.

Lately, I have noticed a startling trend: children who are wholly dependent upon others to meet their own needs. Not babies, mind you, but preschoolers and even adult children. In our efforts to become the perfect mothers in our Pinterest-centric generation, we have started coddling the crap out of our kids. Not just providing our kids with what they need to survive and thrive, but providing them with every single thing they could possibly imagine, from iPads to tantrum-induced food choices. Our kids are losing the ability to think and do for themselves.

This child-centric way of living is a far cry from the parent-centric world that most of us grew up in. We listen to Yo Gabba Gabba in the car, watch Caillou on the TV, make dinners around what our children will eat, schedule our every waking moment around our children. This is insanity. Just think what your dad would have said growing up if you had demanded all of this. My dad would have laughed his ass off and told me to get my over-privileged butt outside and rake the leaves.

But we are often left feeling like if we don’t do everything we can to make our kids as happy as possible, we are a shitty parent. The opposite is true. When we coddle and handhold our children through every step of life, we are setting them up for failure. Our children need to grow up with a realistic view of the world. Everything will not always be handed to them. Everything will not always go their way. Some day, they will need to fight for what they want. And we need to give them the strength and confidence to be able to do that.

People often act like I am abusing my children when I make them clean up after themselves or keep trying something that is hard and frustrating. Or they will say, “Well, it’s just easier and takes less time if I just do it for them.” Sure it is, but you won’t be there to do it for them forever. Or at least I sure as hell hope I’m not! Children need to learn to do for themselves. To explore. To learn. To grow. And now is as good a time as any to start giving your child the power to change things. Even if it is something as simple as putting an empty wrapper in the trash.

What we need is balance. To raise children who know that we will be there for them whenever they fall, but that it is OK to try and fly. We need to give our children the opportunity to make decisions and do things on their own. Because right now we are raising a generation of children who won’t even be able to tie their own shoes when they go to their first job interview.

But we are awesome parents. And we can change that. We can empower our children. We can give them the chance to fall. But also the chance to dust themselves off and keep going. 

If you share this post, I will buy you a pony. I suck at Twitter. I am OK at Facebook. Pinterest is my bitch. I am also on Bloglovin' and Instagram.