Awards

I Just Want To Pee Alone. Don’t You?

March 11, 2013 by ashersmom 10 Comments

Today is the realization of a lifelong dream for me. Over the weekend, just a little earlier than I was expecting, I was published. In a real book. That you can buy. And that I can, like, autograph. If anyone wants. (looksdownkicksrocks)

And in 48 hours, that book — I Just Want To Pee Alone — went to (on amazon)

#1 Hot New Releases: HUMOR

#1 Hot New Releases: PARENTING AND FAMILIES HUMOR

#1 Hot New Releases: HUMOR ESSAYS

Sooo, why would YOU want this book, you say?

Let me break it down for you.

I Just Want To Pee Alone is a hilarious collection of original (never before published) essays from 37 of the funniest and most popular mom bloggers on the internet. All about the funny side of parenting.

You know motherhood is the toughest – and funniest – job you’ll ever love. Raising kids is hard work. The pay sucks, your boss is a tyrant, and the working conditions are pitiful – you can’t even take a bathroom break without being interrupted with another outrageous demand, right?

This book is a must-have for every mother in your life featuring all of these side-splittingly funny bloggers:

People I Want to Punch in the Throat
Insane in the Mom Brain
The Divine Secrets of a Domestic Diva
Baby Sideburns
Rants From Mommyland
You Know it Happens at Your House Too
The Underachiever’s Guide to Being a Domestic Goddess
My Life and Kids
Bad Parenting Moments
Let Me Start By Saying
Frugalista Blog
Suburban Snapshots
Ninja Mom
Four Plus an Angel
Honest Mom
Binkies and Briefcases
Naps Happen
Kelley’s Break Room
Toulouse & Tonic
HouseTalkN
Hollow Tree Ventures
The Fordeville Diaries
Snarkfest
Mom’s New Stage
Nurse Mommy Laughs
The Dose of Reality
The Mom of the Year
Life on Peanut Layne
Momaical
Cloudy, With a Chance of Wine
Confessions of a Cornfed Girl
I Love Them Most When They’re Sleeping
Random Handprints
RachRiot
You’re My Favorite Today

So how can you get the book, you ask?

I got ya covered.

To order a paperback copy of the book with a personalized message and my signature, click the button below for paypal. Indicate how you’d like the book inscribed (name and/or message) in the “inscribe the book” field. And btw, you’re AWESOME!

The price ($13.98) includes shipping for one book, which I’ll send out as quickly as possible via U.S. Mail with a 5-10 business day delivery. If you’d like to order more than one copy (WOW, YOU’RE AMAZINGLY AWESOME), email me (toulouseandtonic@gmail.com) with the details so we can figure out shipping. Paypal’s not so good at figuring out shipping for more than one book so I can create you a personal invoice if you want several. And did I mention, you’re AWESOMESAUCE?

For INTERNATIONAL ORDERS: Please email me directly for costs and shipping fees at toulouseandtonic@gmail.com.

OR buy it on AMAZON in paperback by clicking here.

Or buy it on AMAZON on Kindle by clicking here.

BTW, I wouldn’t hate ya if you wanted to click through from amazon from my site anytime you need to buy something. It costs you exactly the same as if you’d gone there directly, but I can make some pennies on whatever you buy (you don’t even have to buy whatever item you clicked on from my site…just click through from it and load up that cart). Girl needs to start making some pennies round here and I KNOW you buy a bunch of amazon shiz if you’re anything like me.

But back on subject. You can also buy it at iTunes where it’s currently #2 in Top Humor Sold, right next to Tina Fricking Fey.

NOOK - Barnes and Noble: Coming soon.

If you have any questions at all, please email me at toulouseandtonic@gmail.com.

Obviously, I hope you buy the book and enjoy it. If you do like it, I would really appreciate it if you could go back to where you bought it and leave a review. I wouldn’t hate ya if you mentioned me, hint hint. Reviews help so much!

Please tell one friend about this book — someone who likes to laugh. I promise you, they won’t be disappointed. Just one more person buying the book would make my day.

I can’t thank you enough for your support. This book is a lifelong dream come true for me and it wouldn’t have happened without your support. I hope you buy it, read it and then ask me for more! Thank you, thank you, thank you!

Now, would you like to win a signed copy of IJWTPA? I have 3 beautiful brand new shiny books, just waiting for your name and my signature. Just click on the rafflecopter link below to enter. (Don’t worry, they don’t keep your info. It goes into this raffle and then it’s gone). Giveaway ends 3/18/12 at midnight. I’ll contact winners by email and find out what scurvy message you want inscribed on your book, you dirty perv.
a Rafflecopter giveaway

Thank you so much and happy reading. Walk away now. Seriously. I’m about to launch into a hideous ugly cry and I don’t want you to see me like this!

All my love!

Like T&T on facebook. Follow @toulouseNtonic on twitter. And pinterest. And instagram. Basically, just follow me around all day, mmmkay?

Filed Under: Awards, Giveaways, Mommy stuff, Pregnancy, rants Tagged With: autograph, books, humor, I just want to pee alone, parenting, win

The Academy Awards Drinking Game, Parent Edition

February 23, 2013 by ashersmom 5 Comments

Oh how I miss the days when my single friends and I would gather at one of our houses for 6 straight hours of red carpet glamour and the Academy Awards.

There was a tableful of our favorite foods (homemade hors d’oeuvres when we weren’t so busy, a plate of Cheese Krystals when we were) and of course, the cocktails, and the snarky comments, flowed all night long.

I still love awards shows but since I had kids, the fun-meter just barely reaches a 1 during the event. I’m sick of it, so this year we’re turning it all the way up to 11.

How you ask? Easy. We’re making the whole show a drinking game that revolves around being a parent.

First, gather a variety of alcoholic beverages, some shot glasses, wine glasses, beer mugs…hell, just move your entire bar into the living room.

Now follow along with these rules:

Turn on the red carpet portion of the show. Your kids will still be awake. Every time a boy child interrupts you to ask why a man on screen is dressed like a penguin, drink a shot of blue curacoa. Every time a girl child interrupts you to ask if the woman on screen is a princess, take a sip of a Cosmopolitan. Every time a baby tries to nurse through your shirt, drink a Slippery Nipple. (But then, ya know, maybe give the baby a bottle instead).

Every time someone comes down the red carpet looking like a 3-year-old dressed them, take a long pull from your Juicy Juice and vodka.

Just before the Oscar telecast, put the kids to bed.

Grab the kids’ dinner plates and that leftover cake you hid behind the dog food in the pantry and put them on the coffee table. This is your Oscar buffet.

Settle in for Oscar host and crude humorist Seth McFarlane’s opening number. For every reference to horse semen, bestiality, or a dog joyously eating the contents of a baby’s diaper, gargle a sip of beer and add another season of Family Guy to your netflix cue.

Every time a child interrupts you by crying or getting out of bed begging for a drink of water, sigh dramatically, take a sip of “whine” and begin stand-off with your spouse about whose turn it is to put child back in his room. If he cracks first, take 2 sips of wine and turn up the volume on the TV.

Starting to feel a little lightheaded? Eat the gnawed-on, cold quarter of a grilled cheese sandwich your son wiped his nose with just before he left the table so you have a base for the remainder of the game.

Now that you’ve reached your happy place and there are (hopefully) no more interruptions from the kids, it’s important to set a pace.

Every time a winner holds up her Oscar and says, “This is for you, mom,” take a sip of wine, spill some on your blouse, look at your spouse and mumble, “Ungrateful little bastards never thank me for anything.” Burp, then go to the kitchen to refill your glass.

During the death montage, try not to let your crazy-mom-hormones get the better of you. If you begin to cry before it’s halfway over, finish your cocktail in one gulp, ask your husband to hold you then tearfully tell him the only way to counteract death is with life and you want to have another baby.

When an actor holding an Academy Award in his hand names his kids as inspiration and then tells them they’re up past their bedtime and to “go to sleep,” knock back 2 baby aspirin with a champagne chaser and go to bed.

There are 3 more hours left in the telecast but let’s be honest. You can’t do it like you used to and there is no hell like taking care of kids when you’re hungover.

Good night everyone and thank you for playing The Academy Awards Drinking Game, Parent Edition.

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Filed Under: Awards, Mommy stuff Tagged With: academy awards, bjork, child, drinking game, oscars, parent edition

5 Perfect Punishments for Slapping Someone Else’s Child.

February 17, 2013 by ashersmom 30 Comments

“Joe Rickey” woke up on the wrong side of the bed the morning of February 8. Luckily, he was taking a flight to Atlanta in a few hours, which meant he was getting DRUNK!!! He headed to the airport for a little pre-partying.

A couple of hours later, old Joe Rickey was still knocking back the old potato juice but not nearly as happy as he’d been in the airport bar. Now he was wedged into a seat next to a whiney, squiggly 19-month-old traveling on his momma’s lap. Finally, Joe Rickey could take no more so he did what any good, drunk, kid-hating racist would — he told the white mother to control her “n—-r” child and then slapped the tot in the face.

There are a lot of things I don’t know about this whole scenario but one thing I do know: that kid’s adoptive mother possesses more restraint in her pinky finger than I have in my entire body, because I would’ve MAULED this guy like a rabid bear. Instantly. Someone would’ve had to have picked up my toddler out of the aisle because I’d have been on that geezer like a redneck girl in a bar fight. Before even a second passed. With the I-don’t-give-a-shit passion of a honey badger.

I do understand that going all Romani Gypsy on the guy would’ve accomplished nothing except getting my ass in an up-close, personal relationship with an air marshal but I wouldn’t have been able to control myself if I’d seen someone slap my child.

You do not touch my kid.

Not Joe Rickey.

Not anyone.

In order to work through the incredible rage I felt after hearing this story, I decided to dream up the perfect punishments for this guy and anyone else who thinks it’s okay to slap someone else’s kid.

Your honor, please take these into consideration:

Sentence him to one year in a daycare center with a ratio of 1 teacher to every 40 kids. He must be in the center of the main play room bound and gagged and covered in lollipops, gummy bears and Elmo stickers the entire time.
On the weekends for the next 20 years, he must show up at the largest gym in his area and serve as the punching bag for the “Mommy’s Kickboxing” training classes. He may not wear a helmet. Or a cup.
For the remainder of his life, Joe Rickey is the new janitor at his local Chuck E. Cheese, specifically charged with cleaning pee out of ball pits, germs off of game-controls and regurgitated birthday cake out of the well-worn carpet. With his tongue.
Until infinity, said perpetrator will be required to rotate daily to the home of a SAHM just prior to the dinner hour and with his hands bound, help her prepare dinner for 5 people who all eat different things while simultaneously helping a kindergartner and a 2nd-grader with homework that is all above his head, finding a missing Barbie head before a 3-year-old princess goes postal, letting the dogs in and out 24 times, and having every one of his senses tested by an angry, exhausted, frustrated mom when she finds out her husband still hasn’t left work 45 minutes after he was supposed to.
For at least 6 hours per day for life, assailant shall be placed in a highly pressurized chamber with an induced double ear infection while an enraged group of PMS-ing women take turns slapping him in the face while simultaneously telling him not to fuss. (a fantastic suggestion from my friend, Frugie).

Judging by the reaction on my facebook page, I’m not the only mom enraged by this guy’s actions. I’d just LOVE to hear any punishments you can dream up!

Just a few things before I go. This past week, some really exciting things happened that I want to share with you. The first thing, you probably know about since I nagged and begged you and drove you crazy to vote. And YOU DID IT! Toulouse & Tonic was named one of the Top 25 Funny Moms for 2013 on Circle of Moms! I’m rarely at a loss for words but I can’t think of any that truly express the depths of my gratitude. So I’ll just say thank you and I’ll work really hard to write funny stuff to entertain you in return.

The other exciting thing that happened…really, it’s no big deal…just the fulfillment of a dream I’ve had since I was 3. One of my stories was selected to be in a humor anthology coming out in April. Yes, a real book. I’m finally gonna be a published author!!! I’m over the moon about it and just ecstatic to be in the company of the 35+ other writers selected.

In fact, they’re so impressive, I thought I’d share a few of them with you now.
Check out these hilarious posts as a preview:

From You’re My Favorite Today — Parents of Small Children Gather Round, in which she reveals what evil person invented birthday party goodie bags and also backs up my hatred for playing Candyland.

From RachRiot — Eye Caramba in which she manages to work the movie “Ice Castles” into a funny story about trying to work out and ending up with an eye injury.

And from Baby Sideburns, who just TORE UP the COM Top 25 Funny Moms contest ending up in #1 by a pretty decent landslide — the post that deservedly took her viral. Calliou Sucks So Bad.

Okay, gotta go dream up more hideous ways to punish a person who might someday slap my kid but probably wouldn’t because he’d see the look on my face and know that he would no longer have testicles about 2 seconds after he chose to place his hands on my child. This applies to “shes” too by the way. I’ll find your she-testicles and feed them to you, don’t tempt me.

I also had the flu this week and could barely get outta bed so it’s possibly I’m delirious right now.

Okay, so what was I talking about?
Like T&T on facebook. Follow @toulouseNtonic on twitter. And pinterest. And instagram. Basically, just follow me around all day, mmmkay?

Filed Under: Awards, Funny Lists, Mommy stuff, rants Tagged With: airplane, Joe Rickey Hundley, punishment, slap, toddler

Diagnosis: Costume Obsessive Transference Disorder

October 22, 2012 by ashersmom 9 Comments

I’m a little obsessed with Halloween. Always have been.

It’s not the scary stuff.

It’s not the candy.

For me, it’s all about playing dress-up.

I may like who I am.

But boy, do I like to be somebody else.

And I don’t just dress up.

I COMMIT to my character.

If I’m Courtney Love, I paint bruises all over myself, then spend the entire night fake-smoking a cigarette, putting my leg up on speakers and pretending to play guitar, smearing lipstick around my face and flipping people off without reason.

This is the night I scared my husband (then boyfriend) so badly, he almost decided he didn’t wanna date me anymore.

Then there was the Halloween, when hubs and I had been married for about a year, that we thought a redneck wedding theme would be rad.

Wanna bum a smoke from the bride?

Notice the pink bra, the cigarette packet in the garter belt, the Nascar-themed bouquet, the combination flower/veil/dangling pearls in the big hair. The GAUNTLETS on my wrists. And oh, the bronzer.

Here’s the lovely couple. Gabe has on a tuxedo jacket we cut the sleeves out of and a mullet sewn into the back of his ball cap. His plastic flower boutonniere has a charm dangling from it that reads, “It’s a boy!”

Not long after I was the redneck bride, I became pregnant. Fitting, no?

And guess what happened?

I believe the proper medical term is Costume Obsessive Transference Disorder.

Now instead of planning and coordinating my Halloween costume for months, it’s all about the kids.

The first Halloween that we dressed up, Ash, my husband and I wore store-bought pirate costumes.

It was kinda fun to walk up the street to our little business district to trick-or-treat, pushing a stroller dressed as a band of pirates.

But soon after arriving, we saw this.

Ash’s little punk rocker friend Lu put our costumes to shame.

Aww, HELL NO.

I spent the rest of that Halloween night swilling margaritas and brainstorming about what Asher would be the next Halloween.

This is not an exaggeration.

A year later, we rolled up to our Halloween Extravaganza in this.

The Rock of Love Bus

There was the bad blond hair, the blue bandana, the tattoos and rock-n-roll cowboy hat, the bus, Poison tunes blasting out of the ipod…I even tried to talk some neighborhood girls into dressing as ROL hoochies and hanging on my 2-year-old son all night long.

No takers.

Ahem. Maybe that was asking a bit much.

I settled on a hooched-up thrift-store doll.

We called her Starla Dawn. .

I made her bra, of course.

We showed up at our neighborhood costume contest to behold this.

Lu again. This time as Baby Edward Scissorhands.

I think her mom has an equal case of Costume Obsessive Transference Disorder.

The following year, I bought a gnome costume and transformed it into a Wizard of Oz munchkin outfit.

We Represent The Lollipop Guild

Meh. People liked it. But I needed more.

Finally last year, my ultimate costuming achievement.

Here’s my little costume-contest winning Peewee Herman.

I know you are but what am I?

Yes, I had a special suit made. Yes, I went to a mall where people shop for Quinceaneras to buy white patent leather shoes. Yes, I painted my son’s face with make-up and slathered his hair with enough product to embarrass Ryan Seacrest.

But it was worth every last second to become the owner of a ridiculous plastic dollar-store necklace that said “I won.”

I enjoyed it for about 10 minutes.

Then I started thinking about how in the world I was gonna top myself this year.

So much pressure.

And 2 kids to dress now.

Doctors say there is no cure for Costume Obsessive Transference Disorder.

So I better get to work.

Like Toulouse and Tonic on facebook. @toulouseNtonic on twitter.

You might also like Don’t Vajazzle Your Vagiggle Jaggle and 20 Other Things I Wish I Knew When I Was 20, Shame on Me. And You and You and You and The Top 10 Ways To Get Your Husband To Leave Work On Time.