Celebrity Mom

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Being a mom is so easy, even Kim Kardashian can do it!

And as we’ve all seen from the paragons of parenting pictured above, it’s not only easy to be a mom; it’s easy to be a mom and have a successful career and a dazzling social life and a fabulous face and figure!

C’mon, ladies. It’s simple. In fact, here are a few tips from the Gooptress herself to help you along, if you’re slightly befuddled.

And stay tuned for future how-to-mother-with-grace-and-style-and-a-stiff-upper-lip updates from none other than the Duchess herself.

If you find you haven’t bounced back to your pre-baby weight (15 years later), your child isn’t fluent in at least three languages, and you don’t discuss the rewards of motherhood reverentially and eloquently on a daily basis….well, clearly, you’re doing it wrong.

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Celebrity Mom

Of course motherhood

is heaven

when you’ve a staff

of eleven.

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©2013 Carlotta Eike Stankiewicz

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Trashy Dresser

I’m a single mom, which means that all of the typical “guy chores” around the house get done by yours truly. That includes taking out the trash, which in our city consists of not one but three containers: the garbage, the recycling and the yard waste. (I’m in charge of the mowing, weed-whacking and landscaping, too.)

I’d add it to my daughters’ list of Chores They Never Do Anyway, except I always forget about it, and for some reason they’re not stepping up to remind me.

So it’s up to me to do it myself — if and when I remember. Which is usually at the last minute. Or last second, really.  And it ain’t pretty.

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Trashy Dresser

Friday morning
without warning
I hear rumbling from afar.

I wake and wonder,
“Is it thunder?”
Or…a plane? A train? A car?

As it grows nearer,
it gets clearer
that the trash truck’s on my street.

That’s when I doubt
that my can’s out;
my response is oh-so fleet.

Downstairs I go,
small cans in tow,
to dump ‘em all in one big bag.

Outside I hear
noises grow near —
time’s of essence, must not lag!

Quickly I’ve
run down the drive,
dragging my big can behind.

Gravel scrunching,
loudly crunching –
Oh, the neighbors? They won’t mind.

One last swerve
and can is curbed
as trash truck screeches to a halt.

Down hop trash guys,
squinting their eyes
at some visual assault.

Seems they’re staring
‘cause I’m wearing
my old nightgown, gray and frayed —

topped by bathrobe
that has mellowed
to a semi-lilac shade —

plus my sweatpants
pulled out by chance
from the dirty laundry pile —

And on my feet?
the look’s complete
with my fluffy slipper style.

It’s not the first time
that I’ve found I’m
rushing my stuff to the street.

Somehow with this
I’m quite remiss;
remembering seems too hard a feat.

It’s no disgrace,
I now embrace
this trait, and thus my neighbors know

that in my ‘hood,
I’m always good
for a Friday morning fashion show.

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©2012 Carlotta Eike Stankiewicz

The Meltdown

If you’ve got kids, there will be meltdowns.

You can do your darnedest to distract or bribe or redirect your way out of or around them, but if you’re a parent, eventually you’ll experience one. And if your kid is anything like my older daughter, it’ll be abso-frickin-lutely spectacular. Linda Blair in The Exorcist? A veritable peach compared to my daughter in the midst of one of her toddler tantrums.

The good news is, they outgrow them.

For the most part.

It turns out that even the grown ups among us suffer the occasional loss of control while enduring the trials and tribulations of parenting. Dad Tommy Jordan, for example, lost it and posted a very viral YouTube response to his teen daughter’s Facebook rant about her parents. While Jordan seems calm in his video, I get the sense he’s teetering dangerously near the edge, what with breaking out the firearms and all…

And thanks to reality shows, we can get our daily dose of tv tantrums from such paragons of parenting as Kate Gosselin, “Dance Moms” coach Abby Lee Miller, and pretty much every mom in “Toddlers and Tiaras.”

Now, I’m not saying it’s a good thing — just acknowledging that it happens. Nor am I casting stones here. Heck, I’m no saint. When pushed to the limit, I’ve been known to let fly a few choice words in something other than my “inside voice.” I probably could’ve put Linda Blair to shame, too.

After all, as they say: “Like daughter, like mother.”

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The Meltdown

Bystanders, beware —
when you see that seething glare
that starts growing to a grimace
while you’re simply standing there.

‘Cause it could be time to scurry
if her cheeks are flushed with fury
and her eyes are welled with tears –
Best evacuate – and hurry!

When things haven’t gone her way
there’s not much that you can say
and instead of trying to soothe her
I suggest that you don’t stay.

Just get going, just get out
if she’s got a full-blown pout
for the next thing that you know
she’ll begin to cry and shout.

And soon yell turns into roar
and she’s throwing toys galore
and her face is raging red
and she’s stomping on the floor.

You had best be safety-bound
for the reasons I expound;
it’s not wise to be around
when a mom is melting down.

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©2012 Carlotta Eike Stankiewicz