Heather Christena Schmidt

Mom, first * Writer, second * Misanthrope, always

Unfortunately – and I say that not really meaning what I’m saying – I might lose some followers after this post. It’s not really unfortunate. It’s good. It’s fucking great. Bye Felicia.   A little known fact about this here blog lady is that she (I’m talking about myself) used to work in politics. First …

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Today was errand day. It’s one day a week: Monday. We pack all the errands into that day so that we can avoid leaving the house the rest of the week. By the end of even a moderate Monday errand day I’m exhausted, crabby, and unwilling to tolerate anything. And that’s like two stops. Today’s Monday …

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Have you ever had someone say that to you? You’re having a bad day. You found out you have high blood pressure. You got into a car accident. Your company announced pay cuts. You’re frustrated, you’re tired, you need to vent, and so you meet up with friends or family for drinks and vent over beers; …

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Does anyone remember when people used to do that super annoying Facebook status thing, where they’d post a daily thing they’re thankful for every day in the month of November, leading up to Thanksgiving? If you aren’t from America, perhaps you’ve been spared this glad-handed way of humble-bragging that people used to do. You, dear international …

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I had forgotten how many assholes live in my community. For the last year or so, we have been really swamped. I mean really. Between my father having hip replacement, and us staying with him during rehabilitation; the decision to move closer to him for seven months while we got his home ready to sell; …

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There are two camps of people in this world: those that shout “who cares?” to all-things Kardashian, and those that stand in line for a couple of hours to ask acne-ridden Khloe for her autograph at a Laker game. I’ve blogged about these people before, and I’m fairly certain that I said a number of …

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Sometimes I get the impression that my friends that are moms are not really my mom friends. I don’t know if that makes any sense, but people I have known and called friends for years don’t seem to really identify with me as a mother. We don’t really talk about our kids with each other. …

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