"I've Got Pizza Pants."
You can deny it all you want, but I know it's true. You have pizza pants. You know, sweats or jeans with a little extra give that you put on before a big meal. Don't be embarrassed. I have a pair, too. When I was a newlywed, I had sweatpants the same shade of blue as my favorite jeans. This was a well thought out plan to keep my husband from noticing when I changed into them. It worked like a charm for months. And then one Friday, as he picked up the phone to order our usual pizza, Jim caught me coming out of the bedroom.

"I've Got a Crush on Sesame Street"
Ok. I have to admit it: I have a crush on someone - someones, that is, other than my husband. And it all stems from a couple of innocent Sesame Street video clips. For a couple years now, my hubby's early morning routine with our kids has often included accessing the videos, via YouTube, of several well-known musical artists joining Elmo, Telly, or several of the other monstrous characters on the well-loved children's show.

As this pre-sunrise pasttime took hold, extending further and further into the morning hours, I began partaking in the routine as well. Our collective family favorites became the following: Nora Jones singing about the missing letter 'Y', the Goo-Goo Dolls signing "Pride" with Elmo, and James Blunt bemoaning the fact that he can't find his beloved Triangle-sung to the tune of "You're Beautiful" (which I am listening to as I write). And that was it. My interest in the Sesame Street special guest appearances took on a whole new dimension compared to the innocent enjoyment of my children. Watching Johnny Rzeznik urging Elmo to feel proud of himself (to the tune of Slide) for making his own bed and saying his ABCs has got me twitterpated.

"My preschooler inherited my potty mouth."
My proudest parenting moment "F*@# it" says my 4-year-old as the little people she is stacking fall like dominoes. Horrified I ask, "Did you learn that at school?"

"No," she replies.

"From friends? The playground? TV? Daddy?"

"I let my kid chew a dog toy so I could have some peace."
There are some parenting experiences that you'd rather not share, but yet feel compelled to talk about with those in your inner circle, just to get it off of your chest if nothing else. Frankly I think it's experiences like the following that should not be kept in the closet. We should be able to air our parenting "dirty laundry" for the betterment of all parents out there who are in the trenches, making snap decisions that get us through the day! Like any challenging experience, just knowing you are not alone provides so much comfort.

What is the Dark Side of Motherhood? I think of the D.S of M as the little things you do that you really never expected to do, or swore you wouldn't. I'll never tell my whining kid, you have to clean up "Because I said so." I'll speak to him rationally at all times. Yeah, right.

"I got caught playing Santa."
I used to wrap all my x-mas presents in few styles of wrapping paper-Santa's and ones from Mom & Dad too. When my daughter was about 3-4 years old she said to me, "Mom, why does Santa wrap presents in the same paper you do?" In the comics one day there is a cartoon that depicts the same thing my daughter said to me.

"I change in the car so I don't embarrass my daughter."
To help my family out this year I took an unglamorous position as a lunch lady. I don't want to embarrass my six-year-old daughter when I pick her up at school (lots of stylish Moms there) so I have been changing in the car.

"I bribe my kids so I can work."
Summer vacation? Ha! That is not very funny...I have seven children -- okay so two have moved on and had children of their own, but I still have five at home. If I don't plan every second of every day they will fight or whine that they are hungry all the time. So I came up with a plan; for every hour I get to work and have the whole morning to do my work, I will give them my afternoons that are free to go to the beach, park or their new favorite a restaurant.

"Sometimes I long to go to work."
I became a stay-at-home mom when my son was one and I love the time with him. However, there are those days I long for work just so I can get away and have my sanity back.

"I offered no sympathy when a pig bit my son's butt."
My three-year-old son was playing with my daughter's show pig and at first it looked like they were playing tag. But my son, Levi, started throwing things at the hog. He turned his back to Floyd the pig to see if he was in trouble. Floyd ran up and bit him on the butt.

"I did my kid's science project."
I'd say it was the day from hell, but in reality, it was more typical than I'd like to admit. It started off well enough. I got the oldest to school and the preschooler and toddler were eating breakfast. It was even healthy. The TV was off. Okay, it was on, but tuned to PBS. YAY! Then the call came. "Mom, I FORGOT my project and Mrs. B says if it isn't in today, I get an F!!!" Katie wailed. Well, heck. I sighed, and then told her I'd bring the (enormous, complex, many-pieced) project in when I picked her up. No, that wouldn't work. Mrs. B, the science teacher, wanted it there now. Oooo-kay. I assured her I would bring it in immediately and resisted the urge to call her science teacher and asked why the project was required immediately, when my child didn't have her class until the end of the DAY!

"I stood dumbfounded as my newborn peed into his own mouth."
As a first time mom I was not nervous at all about bringing home my little bundle of joy. Like many others, in my teen years, I had done a lot of baby-sitting, and so I felt as though I knew just about all there was to know when it came to parenting. I felt very much prepared for anything. Just one little problem came up. I had always taken care of little girls, and in my arms was a bouncing baby boy. People had tried to warn me that taking care of boys was different, but I refused to listen. Really, just how different could it be?

"I tried to bring back my son's pretend friend -- and failed."
My son Matthew had a pretend friend that he decided he didn't need any more and sent him to outer space. One night, Matthew, my four year old, was having a hard time going to bed. He was crying and inconsolable. He finally said, "I miss Pretend Friend" (which was his name.) To which I said," He is your pretend friend, bring him home." Matthew said, "He loves outer space and won't come home." Meanwhile, my husband is laying in our bed listening to the whole conversation. Being a smart mom, and extremely tired, I say, "Listen, I hear someone knocking on the door."

"I faked a family recipe for the fourth grade's Family Culture Week."
My daughter Mackynzie so much wanted to "wow" the other kids in her 4th grade class during Family Culture Week. So, Mackynzie and I signed up for bringing in a food dish of our Family Tree recipe book. Well, much to my suprise we didn't have such a recipe book! So, the night before this yummy food item was to be delivered to the school for a cultural feast, I called my sister for any recipes she may have gotten from our huge extended family. After a quick laugh from her I realized Mackynzie was in a bad way. So, out of the goodness of my trying to be the best mom heart, I drove to our local Cost Co. and purchased a 5lb bag of frozen meatballs. Then I went to the market and picked up 4 packets of powdered beef gravy. In the biggest pot I owned I mixed them all together along with 2 cups of sugar. YES, 2 CUPS!!!

"I wrote my daughter's essay -- and got 100%!"
My daughter had to write an essay that counted as a test grade. She was not great at reading or writing yet. She stuggled a lot in that department at that time. She had to answer questions in detail, which were quite difficult for a 3rd grader and then take those sentences and turn them into an essay. Well, I started out trying to help her and I did, but I helped a little too much-lol. She was struggling so much and it was taking so much time, that I ended up finishing it, writing it for her and letting her just copy it in her handwriting.

"I let my kids nearly get us kicked out of Target."
HOW WE ALMOST GOT KICKED OUT OF TARGET 'Twas the night before Mother's Day . . . And I realized that I'd need laundry detergent to make it through the next 24 hours of my existence as haus frau extraordinaire . . . so off to Target I drag my children, at 9:30 at night. You see, we'd just spent the latter portion of the day travelling around the countryside with my mother and brother, visiting my grandma in the hospital and eating entirely too much delicious, msg-encrusted Chinese food. I didn't remember that I was almost out of laundry soap until I'd dropped off my mom, so I turned to my children, looked them square in the eye and said, "I need laundry soap, do you guys think you can keep it together for the 5 minutes it will take to run into to Target and pick some up?" "Yeah mom," they promised me.

"I paid my kid to cut his hair."
I am not a perfect parent. I've let kids watch way too much TV. I've let them stay up late playing catch outside (when it's not raining, mind you, I do have regard for their general health, and the impact that playing in the rain will garner - like a heap load of wet clothing and kids who need to be bathed, again). I've let them eat candy, watch the occasional PG-13 movie (egad!), drink soda, burp, fart and make other weird sounds with their armpits without complaining (too much). Yes, I may want to be perfect, but I am failing - miserably. Case in point, last Saturday night.

"I'm entering the contest, because winning is the only way I can get out."
I am mom with 5 boys ages 17, 11, 8, 6 & 10months. My 11 yr.old is handicapped I work full time and would really love to win a day at the spa!

"I had no idea puberty had hit my house."
I have 4 boys ranging from 14 to 6 and through all the childhood traumas who knew that teenagism would come screaming into my household, spit testosterone on the walls and sit my big ass down and say "What ya gonna do now?" Let's start with Easter vigil this year (for those not religious it is the night before easter). My teenagers came to me and proclaimed, "Mom, we don't have any ties." This coming from Catholic boys who have worn ties to church for every holiday since birth. After the continual "Yes you do, go find them, I am getting your brothers dressed" speech was repeated several times, I finally decided I'll have to find them myself or we'll never get there. I proceeded into the depths of smell which they call a bedroom and started digging into the knee deep pit they call a closet and of course coming up with multiple small items of material that used to be known as ties. In the process I also found multiple socks....sock after sock....

"I put a Band-Aid, well, you'll see."
This is my Band-Aid confession. There are some places a Band-Aid should not be, but my son did not get that memo. My son, YahShua, is 7 years old, and he's autistic. We have been working hard to get him potty trained. Well, we finally got it down, and I am happy to say that he's potty trained. However, we did hit a stumbling block along the way.