truth in advertising

One of my favorite bloggers of all time posted this story that I fell in love with, amazed by, so much so that I told my husband about it; "Can you believe it?" "What a great story." It was fabulous... and two months later I found out it was completely fictional.

Who the heck cares. Blog what you want to blog, I say. If you want to write about swimming across the Thames River, naked, awesome. If you want to blog about sliding down a side of a non-dormant volcano, face-first, very cool.

I'd probably believe you.

I'm gullible like that and I'm a horrible liar (I get this nervous tummy thing that goes on until I spill the beans, so it's way better for me just to let it out than feel all gassy for days on end). My blog is about the real me (and of course, my children), so here you have it:

Who My Mom Is

from the mouth of my five-year-old, written by his preschool teacher (using his 'words') with commentary from yours truly.

Let's take a closer look at this:

The truth is that when my children are not around, I nap. I curl up on the couch, me and my blanket and sleep. There is no shame in a great nap. I get the laundry done too, but childless time spent doing laundry is just wasted napping time. We've all heard the good motherly advice; waste not, want not.

Yes, because the 3-4 hours a week I spend not at the beckon call of my children but volunteering (read not paid) at the hospital is WAY more of a job than the one I do the remaining 164 hours a week as a mother/child care provider.

This is because this is the only time of the day he see me without ketchup, baby food, milk stains or possibly poop on me.

I've blogged about McDonalds a million times even my children know it. Seriously, when are they going to send me gifts instead of McMommy. (Just kidding, McMommy.)

Obviously, he doesn't know about my Anti-Supermom gig. This is totally going to ruin my reputation.