A Letter of Gratitude to My Favorite One-Stop Shop:

With Valentine's Day fast approaching I wanted to take a moment to compose a letter of gratitude to one of my greatest loves - Wal-Mart. Thanks for making every trip to the grocery store more interesting...

To All My Favorite People of Wal-Mart:

Thank you!!

Thank you, greeter at the entrance for always pointing out that my baby is barefoot. Perhaps you could volunteer to follow us around and pick his socks up out of the aisle every 14 seconds when he pulls them off and throws them.

Thank you, old toothless man who insists on offering my children candy. Every mother’s dream is for her kids to learn that strangers have the BEST candy.

Thank you, other mom with quiet children who managed to put on make up before you arrived. I suppose you also fed them something healthy for breakfast and they’re wearing socks and shoes. Show off.

Thank you, lady in produce with the extra long, curly fingernails for that silent reminder of why it’s always good to wash thoroughly before you eat!

Thank you, young lady at the deli with a mustache. Without you I would surely forget that we’re out of razors.

Thank you, janitor for holding back your look of disgust when you discover that it’s us again at the end of the Hansel and Gretel trail of fruit snacks and goldfish.

Thank you, lady stocking shelves for lying about how you loved every single day of raising your babies. Next I suppose you’ll tell me you’re also quite fond of root canals and yeast infections.

Thank you, lady in check out lane 14. It’s awesome when you excitedly point out that I just bought two bags of chocolate covered pretzels yesterday. I suppose next you’ll remind me it’s been 28 days since I last purchased tampons.

Thank you, old lady in the parking lot for taking off with my cart before I was able to load my econo-sized box of condoms into the car and also for forcing me to run through two rows of cars to retrieve them from you. Despite the fact that I look homeless, I’m really just a stay at home mom and I REALLY don’t need any more kids.

Reasons Why I'm Better Off Raising Boys

I've been accused of a lot of things in my lifetime but being a lady was never one of them. So it stands to reason that there has always been a silent sigh of relief at the phrase, “It’s a boy!”

Well, ok, in my last pregnancy the ultrasound tech never actually said, “It’s a boy!” I believe her exact words were, “It’s either a boy, or your daughter has a very long clitoris…” As if she already knew that I was the type of mother who shouldn’t be allowed to have daughters. And it’s true. I kick ass at raising boys but on a girl my parenting tactics would be about as effective as dollar store condoms.

After our 3rd son was born, my husband and I decided our family had reached maximum capacity and there would be no Riley baby #4. I’ve learned that it’s human nature for other parents to falsely assume that a couple’s reproductive wishes are up for discussion because I’m frequently being asked ridiculous questions such as, “But don’t you want to try for a girl?”

My answer to that question is generally along the lines of, “Are you high?”

As it is, I never even tried for the boys. They just sort of showed up one day...I guess I’m just fertile like that.

As a favor to any of you who may have found discomfort with my decision to keep things "strictly dickly" around here, I’ve compiled the following list:

Reasons Why I’m Better Off Raising Boys

1. Fashionably Challenged – I think we’ve already touched upon my improper use of leggings. Believe me, people, it doesn’t stop there. I’ve also been known to wear visors! No female deserves me as an example of what’s fashionably acceptable.
2. Can a Brotha Get a Table Dance? – I have countless video footage of my two-year-old son dancing on the table in a diaper. The thought of a topless little girl doing the same thing is somehow less amusing.
3. The Princess and the Pee – My neighbors already turn a blind eye to the fact that my kids use the backyard as a toilet. I’m not sure they’d be thrilled about a tiny girl copping a squat and relieving herself off the back porch.
4. Shame Shame – Or complete lack thereof. I’ve been known to belch the entire alphabet. In Spanish. I can’t imagine this is an appropriate subject matter for Dora the Explorer.
5. Learning Curve – I once told my son that he should never put money near his mouth because you never know if at some point a stripper picked up that bill with her butt cheeks. If I had a daughter I imagine she’d take this lesson as an invitation to try it herself.
6. Deep Pockets – Have you ever tried prying something out of a toddler’s nostril? My kids don’t need another orifice to shove their Skittles into.

So as you can now plainly see, it’s better for everyone that I stick to raising boys. But don’t worry. If I ever start to feel a longing for a little girl, I’m totally not above dressing one of the boys in pink and having a tea party with his GI Joe’s.