The Facebook Friday Wrap-up that isn't even a wrap-up and was written only 75 minutes before it was officially Saturday.

Today is Friday. On Friday my new thing is to do a Facebook Friday Wrap-up situation which is basically when I pull a fast one on you and "write" a new blog post by just cutting and pasting a bunch of crap from my Facebook page onto this blog and voila! New blog, mofos. 

Well, now that there is less than 2 hours left of Friday, and I HATE waiting until the last minute to do things, I sat down to get my act together and guess what? There isn't really anything from my Facebook page this week that's even worth cutting and pasting. This week was a slow week. I was super unbelievably busy trying to hustle my book here there and everywhere. And pretty much every Facebook post I made was some version of "Yo! Go buy this freaking book before I have an aneurism!  Or before you have an aneurism from me talking about it so much!" 

In between all that blabbering, I did come up with what I think is an amazingly brilliant way to get some publicity. 

Yesterday my sister was in my yard and she found a big bone and she was all "WTF is this bone doing in your yard?" And I was all "I have no idea, but it's awesome! Do you think it's a person bone? Man, I really freaking hope it's a person bone!" And she was all "Why do you want a person bone in your yard?" And I was all "I've spent an entire week trying to get local publicity for this book, and the city of Houston is being a major dong sucker about it because if it doesn't involve a high speed car chase or a shooting or an oil well or a cold snap or something then they don't give a frick. The temperature might get below 40 tonight? Winter Coldpocalypse 2013! We now interrupt your regularly scheduled programming to talk about mittens! But 3 Houston mom bloggers co-author a book with a bunch of other mom bloggers and it instantly hits the #1 spot on 3 Amazon charts AND iTunes, therefore proving that mom bloggers are real writers and a force to be reckoned with in the world of publishing? Crickets, y'all. So basically, if I found a person bone in my yard, I could call the cops. If I called the cops, the news would find out. If the news found out, they'd interview me. If they interviewed me, I'd be holding my book up in front of my face and be all 'I was walking around the yard with this best selling book that I co-wrote, when suddenly me and the best selling book that I co-wrote found this person bone, at which time me and the best selling book that I co-wrote screamed bloody murder like that one woman did in this best selling book that I co-wrote when she was having that baby!' and then the whole finding a person bone thing would be totally worth it."

So later in the day when The Hub got home from work and went out to work in the garden, I asked him if he could go ahead and dig in some other spots around the yard to see if he could find any bodies. Then he looked at me blankly. Then I told him why I needed a body. Then he said no. Then I picked up the possible person bone to show him and it unfortunately turned out to be a rawhide. Probably from the dogs next door. So that kinda super sucked. Then I asked The Hub if he knew of anywhere that we could score a dead body to put in our yard to pretend that I found. He didn't answer me. I like to think that he didn't answer me because he was trying to figure out where to score his wife a dead person, but I think he didn't answer me because he thinks I'm an idiot. 

The man just doesn't have the kinda geniousness that I have. And that makes me sad for him.

And today I was on Facebook in my book group discussing different things that we could do to get publicity, and someone mentioned that Felicity Huffman has a mom website called "What the Flicka?" and did anyone have any connections there. So I said, "Well, one time at LAX she tapped me on the back and said 'Excuse me' because I was blocking her from the luggage carousel" so we decided that I'd be the one to write to her. Ya know, since we are practically BFF's and all. So here is what I wrote:

Hey! Felicity! Remember me? Of course you do.

I "met" you at LAX in September of 2005. Are any bells ringing? If they are, that's not an ear defect. It's my unforgettableness coming through.

You see, I was at the luggage carousel waiting to grab my bag before someone stole it. God knows I travel with some amazingly great underwear that any hobo would be happy to own. Suddenly I felt a tap on my back and heard a woman say "Excuse me." and I turned around and BAM! there you were with your hubby. I was all, "WTF are those guys doing getting their own bags? Don't they have a person for that?" I mean, P-Diddy (or whatever the heck his name is now) has a dude whose only responsibility is to follow him around with an umbrella. And seriously, not to be ass kissy, but you guys rock way harder than that clown (but don't tell him I said that cuz he probably has a dude whose only responsibility is to beat people up).

Although I didn't speak to you guys, I'm sure you remember me. I was the really tall blonde with giant eyeballs who smelled like Vanilla and was trying to act like Felicity Huffman asks her to excuse her every day. No big deal.

To make things even weirder, 2 days later I saw you at Ellen when you were a guest the day after the Emmy's. You wore your jammies. I wore an evening gown. Why was I there and why was I in an evening gown? Because I wrote Ellen a poem about poop and got to be her Emmy and show guest, and the producers were all "Hey! Wear your dress to Ellen. Ya know, the same dress you wore to the Emmy's last night for infinity hours and sweated in like a pig." Needless to say, I was jealous of your jammies and no longer smelled like vanilla.

ANYWAYS, long story not so short, myself and a ton of other awesome mom bloggers wrote a book called "I Just Want to Pee Alone." We are currently at the top of 3 Amazon best seller lists and itunes. We knocked Tina Fey out of #1. I love her immensely, but damn that felt good.

I, on behalf of all of us, would like to request that you read the book and tell us what you think. We LOVE your site and would be proud to be mentioned on it. You're probably thinking to yourself "There are over 30 women in this book and they asked THIS freak to contact me? Holy hell!" Yes. Yes they asked me. THAT is how we do it.

I'll be waiting for your email telling me that you've been thinking about me every day for 8 years. Don't be ashamed. I get that a lot.

xoxoxo,

Patti

I'll let you guys know when she calls.

And now, for the winner of my free, signed copy of the book. 

CARRIE COBURN!!! You won the book. I already rubbed it all up on The Cat's junk. I hope you don't mind. I will write something really fantastical inside of it and send you some Clorox wipes. I have sent you an email. Please email me back with 7 days or I will be gifting the book to someone else. THANK YOU and congratulations!

I will be giving another book away soon. Stay tuned for details. I haven't thought of the details yet or else I'd give you them now. Heck, I just now came up with idea to give away another book, so for Pete's sake of course I don't have any details yet. Calm the frick down!

LMTFA: It's fake serious business

When The Boy was a toddler I suffered through a long and serious bout of LMTFA. 

For those of you who aren't in the know, LMTFA (Leave Mom The Frick Alone - Syndrome) is a disorder in which the mother of one or more small children makes the critical and life-saving decision to pretend that she has an extreme irritable bowel disorder so that she can hand her child (or children) over to someone else and sit in the bathroom ALONE for endless amounts of time. The LMTFA sufferer usually spends this time reading, chatting on the phone, texting, Facebooking, or playing Angry Birds. The LMTFA sufferer NEEDS this time alone in order to keep her sanity after never-ending days of being endlessly touched, pulled, prodded, yelled at and cried on every damn day of her life. The LMTFA sufferer MUST have this time alone so that she will not lose her shit and end up selling her offspring on ebay to the first bidder. Or even worse, advertise them for tradesies on Craig's List in exchange for a few boxes of Girl Scout Cookies.

When I had LMTFA I read the complete works of Pat Conroy and Joyce Carol Oates, as well as countless issues of Entertainment Weekly and Us Magazine. Every time I read the "Stars: They're Just Like Us!" section in Us Magazine, I was hoping to see a photo of someone like Demi Moore sitting on her toilet reading some book about Kabbalah while one of her kids slips a piece of paper and a pack of Crayolas under the door and asks her to draw a rainbow. Let's get real here: The BS they put in that magazine about how so and so pumps their own gas or goes to the mall "just like us" is lame-o-rama. If they wanna make us think celebs are anything like us at all, they need to show Gwyneth's perfect little Apple pitching a fit in Whole Foods because she wants some freaking Toll House cookies instead of Quinoa. I'd also like to see Halle Berry's little angel throwing her body against the bathroom door with enough force to break her own bones, while Halle tries to drop a Deuce so that she can fit into her Oscar dress.

THIS is real life.

When The Boy was younger, I never got to poop or pee alone. And I'm the kinda person who, if you talk to me while I'm trying to go, it crawls back up. That's right. I've got potty stage fright. And back then I got interrupted at least 9 outta 10 times that I tried to go. It was worse than living in my college dorm and sharing a bathroom with 30 girls. I don't want an audience when I'm trying to drop the kids off at the pool. Bathroom time is my Zen time.

So, just like in college,  I would sneak off in the middle of the night and do my business in secret. Then, nearly every day as soon as The Hub would get home from work, I'd hand The Boy off and say "Thank God you're here! I've GOT to go to the bathroom! Something is really wrong!" and off I'd go to my library. The Hub would keep The Boy away from me because he was under the impression that there was some serious stuff going down in there. Occasionally he would come knock on the door and ask if I was okay, at which point I would make some moaning noises and say something like "It's not good. It's not good at all! Walk away! WALK AWAY!"

In reality I was usually just sitting on my throne, fully clothed, reading The Prince of Tides or an article about how Janet Jackson is addicted to coffee enemas. 

It may not seem like an honest thing to do, but it's what moms all over the world do on a daily basis. It's almost impossible to go to the bathroom when a little hand is desperately reaching under the crack in the bathroom door trying to touch your feet because if you are out of their sight for 5 seconds they might combust. When you have a child you usually can't even pee without someone walking in or screaming outside of the door. So we do what we have to do so that we can stay sane. And believe me, our husbands and kids need us to stay sane. We run shit. If we lose our marbles you're all screwed.

^^^^THAT, up there, is a long-winded roundabout Mom-Brainy way of telling you about the new book that myself, along with 36 other amazing mom bloggers, have written. The title is the most perfect title for a book by and for moms EVER in the history of book titles. That's just a fact. And I told you that story about my history with LMTFA so that you can contract a case of it and read this book from the comfort of your own throne.

I am thrilled to be in this book with so many funny women. Each of us has our own writing style and our own stories to tell, so there is totally something for everyone. We're all very proud of it, and super honored that Jen (from People I Want To Punch In The Throat) asked us to be a part of it. And guess what? The book is doing great so far. Check THIS out:

If you wanna order a copy you can do so HERE. That link includes all the different places you can get it. And while you're on Amazon, read the reviews. They're pretty good. If you read the book and like it PLEASE remember to give us a review and tell your friends. It REALLY REALLY REALLY helps us if you leave reviews and spread the word. Click the share button at the bottom of this post and Facebook it, Google + it, Tweet it, email it, Pinterest it, whatever. Word of mouth is everything.

This week I am giving away paperback copy with a special little note inside from me and a picture of me rubbing it all up on my booty. Okay. Maybe not that second part. Maybe I'll just have my unicorn, Lord Burgess Atwood, sprinkle it with the power of unicorn magics. Whatever floats your boat. To enter to win a copy, please comment on this blog with your FULL name and email address. I will pick a winner at random on Friday, March 15th, and announce the winner in my Friday Facebook Wrap-Up post. 

****Winners of last week's contest for the Zombie in a Bottle are: Lynn (no last name given), and My Train Has Jumped the Track. I have emailed you both. Please respond by Sunday, March 17th, or I will give the prizes to someone else****

Here is a list of all the amazing women who are in this book with me. Check them out.

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

Funny is Family

My Real Life

Facebook Friday! It's a 2 Week Wrap-Up because I totally didn't do one last week.

Last Friday I didn't do a weekly wrap-up because I joined in to help my friend Mary Tyler Mom do her blog blast to raise money for St. Baldricks. If you missed it, make sure you go back and read it HERE and donate a little money if you can. It's for a great cause.

Anyways, today's wrap-up is a two week version. 

Popular Facebook Posts:

I was getting new tires on my car and the dude told me that I was getting $75.00 back cuz they're having a rebate sale, so I said "Woo hoo! Do I want to go to a strip club or get a cheap hooker? I have big Decisions to make!" And he said "You're really gonna tear it up, huh?" And I said "Heck yeah! It's free fun money!" You shoulda seen the looks on the faces of the people behind me in line. My friend Jeanette happened to be there getting a tire fixed and I think she was proud to be associated with me. Or possibly horrified. But I'm gonna go with proud.

If Bohemian Rhapsody comes on and you don't drop everything to sing the heck out of it at the top of your lungs, I don't think we can be friends.

In my status bar Facebook keeps asking me "What's happening, Mom-Brain?" and it's starting to annoy me. What is this? 1978? Where's Re-run? Where's Raj? Or maybe it's a Sixteen Candles reference? If so, I wish FB would drop the Mom-Brain and just call me Hot Stuff. You're smothering me, FB. It's like an annoying, overbearing boyfriend I had in high school who was always staring at me and saying "Whatchu thinkin' about?" and then I'd say "How I could kill someone and make it look like an accident" or "I'm trying to start a fire with my mind." Dear Facebook, What's happening is that I am on my 4th load of laundry, packing for a trip, trying to pre-make some meals for my family, write a blog, and I just picked my underwear outta my butt. What's happening with you?

The Boy has decided to have a Flashback Monday and watch some Max and Ruby, so I have decided to bash the tv in with a sledgehammer. Or maybe I'll just leave the room. I guess that seems like a calmer way to handle it. The only good thing about this situation is that The Boy has finally started analyzing the show. He just asked me where their parents were and said it was really lame that their Grandma lived down the street yet didn't seem to give a crud that her 4 and 7 year old grandkids were living totally alone. My theory has always been that Ruby murdered their parents because she is a controlling beeotch and they were cramping her bossy style. They are buried underneath the sandbox in the backyard. I think Grandma, and everyone else in town, knows what happened and is afraid to do anything about it cuz Ruby will kill them next. I'm pretty sure I'm right about this.

So in carpool I was rockin' out to some Gnarls Barkley and The Boy had the nerve to say the following:

The Boy: Oh my god, mom. Your voice is shredded. It's like, really, really crappy.
Me: Duh, I have a cold.
The Boy: Oh wow. Wow. Wow. That's like the most epic lie I've ever heard. 
Me: Lie? Why would I lie about having a cold? I have a cold! My voice sounds funny because my throat is sore.
The Boy: I hate to tell you this but your voice sounds like that all the time. You really didn't know that? You really think it's because of a cold? Wow, mom. That's just so sad.

Then he tsked me. He totally tsked me

I woke up feeling amazing. My new bed makes me sleep like little Baby Jeebus swaddled in a blanket woven from the hair of magical unicorns in a bassinet full of angel feathers and myrrh. 

Then I woke up The Boy. 

The Boy has turned it up to eleven, and is now lying on the couch where he keeps pulling his legs up over his head and farting, asking me a crap load of "Would you rather's?" and just in case that wasn't enough to make me wanna vomit, he's watching Max and Ruby again. Grandma keeps laughing for no reason.cI think she is high in this one. If I was that bitchy bunny's grandma I know I would be. Now I think we know what she grows in her garden.

Any just one more FYI: The Boy just said to me, and I quote, "Mom, why do you look so much older in the mornings?

Other Nonsense:

-My friend over at a blog called Kelley's Break Room does a fun little segment on her Facebook Fan Page called "What's in her bag?" and she invited me to dump my purse ans hare the contents with her readers. Don't be frightened.

-I was in New Orleans last weekend with my friend Stephanie, and we had a blast. I had some good Facebook posts during that trip, but I didn't include them in this wrap-up because if I can get my head outta my ass I'll be writing a full blog post about those shenanigans next week. 

Contest Alert:

In honor of you guys being so awesome, I am giving away an item from my purse. It's the Zombie in a Bottle. They are made by Sparkly Pony and sold on Etsy. She has been kind enough to donate the one that I have in my purse, as well as 2 more to give to my readers. All you have to do to enter is comment on this post and include your email so that I can contact you to get your mailing address. 2 winners will be chosen at random by using the random number generator. I moderate comments so they won't publish right away. Please only comment once. (Here is a link to Sparkly Pony's FB Page)

Contest ends Sunday the 10th at midnight. Winner will be announced Monday the 11th.

Good Luck!

And last but not least, the book that I am in is now available. Here is the cover:

It is already #9 on Amazon's Parenting and Family books list and we haven't even advertised it yet, so we are all pretty proud. To order it go up to the tabs under my blog header and click "Buy This Book!" or look at the right sidebar and click on the picture of the book cover. If you like the book after reading it, we would LOVE it if you would take the time to give us an Amazon review. If you hate it, just shut yo mouth. Deal? (If you are on a mobile device and can't see my sidebar OR header, click HERE to go to Amazon to purchase on Kindle or in Paperback)

Here are links to just a few of the lovely bloggers that are also featured in the book. Check them out!

Nicole of Ninja Mom Blog

Rebecca of Frugalista Blog

Anna of Random Handprints

Johi of Confessions of a Cornfed Girl

Bethany of Bad Parenting Moments