I realize practically every blogger on the planet does this exact post, but holy hell I can see why. Because this shit is funny. So here you have it: the “Best Of Google Search Terms” post. These are terms people have entered into Google and used to ultimately find my blog (kinda scary).

Because I like to be helpful, I’ve given little responses to the searcher. Right, helpful. That’s it.

“do I have the mind of a 9-year-old?” – Well I think that may be pushin’ it. Perhaps more like a 4-year-old, since you apparently think the internet has some insight on the inner workings of your particular mind.

“why do i want to headbutt things when i’m angry?” – Because you’re angry and you have poor coping skills.

“how to tell when people hate you?” – If you don’t know I can promise pretty much everybody hates you.

“I’m not pooping i’m just thinking real hard” – Thank you for clearing that up. I was concerned. Although I’m guessing you’re really not thinkin’ that hard.

“my life is miserable because I’m a crackhead” – Yes, I imagine it is. At least we’ve pinpointed the problem. Now hmmmmm…. a possible solution…. Huh. I for one am stumped. Let’s go smoke some crack and think about it.

“goldfish poop hanging out” – Yep, just hanging out. Just kicking it. But why my friend would you GOOGLE such a thing? What do expect to find? Photos of a fish bowl with poop? Suggestions on the topic? Empathetic stories?

“10 interesting reasons to wear clean clothes” – Sorry, the only ones I know are pretty uninteresting, like “not stinking” and “not looking like a homeless person.”

“I’m too old to change my mistakes” – Welcome to the club.

“why do my ed hardy seat covers sag” – The critical question here is not why your Ed Hardy seat covers sag, but rather, my friend, why the hell you own Ed Hardy seat covers in the first place.

“med school stop fucking with me” – You are not increasing my confidence in the medical profession.

“I feel like I pretend being an adult” – Is there any other way to do it?

“I’m a bad mother because I curse and yell a lot” – You’ve come to the right place, sister.

“how a crack head thinks” – Well a lot about crack, I imagine.

“how does the flap on a onesie work?” – Wait. Seriously?

“how to dress like a waldorf mom” – If you’re asking this question, you’ve already totally missed the Waldorf boat.

“damn, I am sleeping with my roommate’s mom” – That is too bad. I hate it when that happens. It’s kinda like when I wake up saying “Damn, I have a sore tooth.” You know, bad luck and whatnot.

“parenting toddlers with stickers” – It’s gonna take a little more than that, buddy.

AND MY PARTICULAR FAVORITE ON SO MANY LEVELS:

“what to do when you pet your cat on meth” – I just don’t know where to begin. Maybe…slow down?

What I learned this week…

1. I hate most toys. Especially the ones that GROW. You know, like the bugs and animals and other crap. The little people somehow acquired a new, previously unknown version of grow toy, in the form of marbles. Holy shit they are annoying.
2. The makers of such toys must hate humanity. I bet they laugh to themselves as they send them out into the world, “Ha ha ha! [insert evil chuckle], tiny hard balls that grown into slightly larger squishy balls, serving no purpose whatsoever, offering no entertainment value, existing  in fact only to create messes and drive parents batshit crazy! Yay!”
3. My dad is quite the minimalist. He pretty much keeps nothing. I used to be confused by this. I am no longer confused by this. I have begun throwing things away behind everybody’s backs. I don’t feel bad about it. If they really cared about these items, they wouldn’t be abandoned on my living room floor. Or my car. Or the backyard. Damnit.  
4. Does anybody else talk to drivers in other cars as if they can hear you? You know, like if they pull out in front of you and you respond “Really? Dude. What the hell? My car’s full of kids you royal assface. Why you gotta hate?”
5. So my house is mostly more in order. My mom came over today and once again saved my bottom. (Sometimes without warning I feel compelled to insert non-potty mouth substitutions for swear words.  When I’m really feeling frisky I’ll use “Fudge!” or “Frick!” Yeah it’s nonstop action around here.)
6. Anyway, I must say the room looks really, really nice. It’s bright and airy and clean and we even put in crown moulding – which is totally a big deal. And we didn’t do the “okay we’re bored now” half-assed job we normally do. We did things right.
7. Except for the planning part. But let’s not get crazy.
8. I’m having a really hard time not talking shit about some of the stuff I read on other blogs. Some blogs (like this one or this one or this one) are good and interesting and not judgmental or pretentious or preachy. But there are others. And I want to rip them new ones. But for the moment I’m restraining myself. While I can’t imagine those kinds of bloggers ever reading Renegade Mothering, there is a vague possibility the person in question might read my shit-talking, and then I’d be the mean kid and who wants that? 
9. But damn it would be so fun. SO FUN. And I really really want to. (can you hear it “Mama, puh-lease? Just this once?!”) It just seems like such a plunge, you know – headfirst into cross-blog shit-talking? I don’t know if I have the energy for that. Of course, if somebody did call me out on it, I guess I could just say “Stop writing stupid judgmental shit on your blog and I’ll stop making fun of you.”
10. Plus, when I see this stuff, I only read the blog once (why would I return for such agony?), so at least I’d only make fun of each blogger once, which significantly lowers the chances of their seeing it, right? And what’s the worst that can happen? I piss off strangers? Wouldn’t be the first time. Hmmmm…

Oh right. And since you’re here, please vote for me again. Puh-lease? (There’s a link on the left.) Thanks people, and have a great week.

We’re going to be featured on Hoarders!

No, we are not.

That was a lie.

[But you probably knew that already, because who the hell would excitedly announce online “We’re gonna be on a show featuring sociopaths who collect shit!”? Okay, I know. I know. It’s a mental illness. It’s serious, very sad, what a shame, etc. But it’s a damn funny mental illness. And a weird one. And I make fun of everybody, including myself. Plus, I’m rude. The end.]

Though we didn’t actually get invited to Hoarders, I bet if we sent them pictures of our hallways, living room and kitchen, we might get the green light.

Now you may ask, “Why does your house suddenly appear like one of those whack-job homes on Hoarders?”

Let me lay it out for you in plain English: because my husband and I are fucking psychos.

That was not a lie.

So you all know what my life has been lately, right? Okay, perfect. So the full gravity of the following story will hopefully sink in appropriately: on Tuesday the husband and I went to Ikea (swoon – so much crap! Most of which I can afford! And it looks only like semi-crap once it’s installed in the home! Yay!). No seriously I love that place. Don’t judge.

ANYWAY, so we get there and we’re buying a few organizational items for what will become the homeschool room, and Mac sees these fake wood floors for very, very cheap and announces “Dude, let’s put this in the homeschool room, TODAY.” And since I’ve been asking for non-carpet in there and we’re poor and I’m a total and complete lunatic, I say “for real? Yeah. Good idea.”

Holy fuck why can’t we just  be like normal people? You know, the kind who plan shit?

Why isn’t there a little voice in my head that says “MAYDAY JANELLE MAYDAY!! – redoing the floors requires moving everything out of the room in question and all that furniture and stuff will be in your hallways and living areas and it NEVER takes one day to do projects like this you steaming pile of idiot! SAY NO SAY NO!”

 But I say “yes.” Because there is something wrong with me.

So for the last 5 days you have to walk sideways down my hall and there’s a piano in my entryway and we’ve all been eating in little huddles on the floor, where there’s space. The best part is trying to carry the baby down the hall, sideways, so she’s facing the photos hung on the walls…and grabbing for them. So you have to like DART quickly sideways down the hall.

Somebody please shoot me.

Because it’s even worse than previously indicated. Once we got the floors down I realized I hate the wall color with the floors. So.we.painted.  But while at Home Depot buying the paint for the walls I saw crown moulding and said to myself “well now looky there! Ain’t that pretty?!” So we bought some. But it had to match the base boards. So we painted all.of.that.too.

And now? We’re running like hell to put this together and I ask you, from the bottom of my heart, “WHY DO I DO SHIT LIKE THIS?”

Perhaps more importantly, “Why do I never LEARN from doing shit like this?”
Because I can guarantee you the next time we do work on our house, the circumstances will be just like this time.

And it will suck just as bad.

Though in our defense, it looks damn good (I’ll post pics when it’s done). Plus, we’re having a really good time making up “caulking” jokes [read: “cock-ing”]. Yes, we’re classy.

[To cheer me up, please CLICK HERE (or on the badge on the right) to vote for me for CBS Sacramento’s Most Valuable Blogger Award. I’ve never been nominated for anything, let alone won anything. So please. Hook it up, friends.]