Warning – First World Problems Alert!

I was laying in bed last night thinking about all the crap on my plate.

I remember being a young girl and looking forward to having responsibilities. I wanted to have crap on my plate, so to speak.

I wanted to have a dog to walk, a home that had dishes that needed to be washed; the idea of grocery shopping for a family and cooking dinner excited the hell out of me. I remember scanning the shelves of Mervyn’s for dish sets and napkin rings that I’d use when I was a real grown-up.

Now, as an adult, I’d toss a honey baked ham at anyone who suggests I use napkin rings when setting the table.

As a youngster, what I didn’t realize was the fact that there is no “off button” to adulthood. There are no “days off” from being a grown human. And, to be frank, I’ve decided I’m tired of adulthood. I want another “hood” to hang out in.

Whether I’m trying to get the hairbrush through my daughter’s beast of a mane, the government off my back for money owed due to tax errors from 2013, health insurance woes, or the never-ending stack of laundry, I’ve decided I need a “Grown-up Life Coach.”

Thinking of applying? These are the things I need help with:

  1. Pay my bills, preferably with your money.
  2. Successfully coerce my daughter to not only bathe and wash her hair on a regular basis, but also clothe her. If I find myself in one more clothing battle with that hooligan, I swear, I’m going to strip every item of clothing from her closet and make her roam Naked and Afraid- style for a few weeks. How many times can one possibly say: “THOSE ARE NOT PANTS. YOU HAVE TO WEAR PANTS WHEN LEAVING THE HOUSE”?
  3. Go to work and do my job for me. I am difficult to emulate on the phone seeing as I talk a lot and very quickly, so you’d need to be a fast talker who is easily distracted…but only on the telephone; you are, after all, going to be my life coach. I’d need you to be on point and organized in every other area.
  4. Train my dogs. If either of those assholes pees in one more area of my home, I’m going to open the front door and leave it open long enough until they both run away. Forever. This one should be incredibly easy seeing they are ONLY nine and ten years of age. What’s that saying? “You can totally, 100%, teach an old dog new tricks”? Yeah, that’s it.
  5. Clean my home. I’d even settle just for laundry…

Wait…Maybe I’ve sent out the wrong request; it appears I need a housekeeper and a more disciplined mother for my child…

In all honesty, I don’t know if summer has gotten to me and I’m just at my wits ends having to work from home with my 7-year-old as an insanely distracting office assistant, but I seem to be doing a really horrific job lately.

  • I either have the bills paid, but my house looks like a hurricane ran through it.
  • I’ve got the house put together, yet have failed to do my actual job for the day (a.k.a WORK).
  • I’ve made it to the doctor’s appointment on time but fed my daughter In N’ Out for breakfast or
  • I’ve shoveled poop from four corners of my home and ended up a rolled, comforter-taco in my bed staring into the vortex that is Netflix.

Is it just me? Is summer break getting to me? Do I need a life coach and a maid? Does anyone/place offer those services for free? Maybe I just need Jesus.

I’m utterly exhausted and cannot, in any capacity, keep up.

I took a look around my home yesterday; laundry littered the hallways, dishes stacked the sink, bills piled my desk, a rabbit roamed my office, my child screaming from her room about wanting to turn our home into an aquarium, and I could feel a nervous breakdown coming on. I decided to get the hell out of there. I needed to re-calibrate, so I made a mad dash for the front door, hopped in my car, selected the perfect song on the radio to cruise to, and backed out of the driveway.

Just as I put the car in “drive,” I was met with another adulthood nuisance; my gas tank was empty, light flashing and all. So, I sat in the driveway playing Candy Crush until someone noticed I was missing…

It was great. I had complete, uninterrupted silence for an entire six minutes.

If you think you can help, please look for my SOS signals. You can likely find my SOS call via Google Maps; it’ll be the one spelled out in blood, sweat, and tears “S A V E  M E!


Ashley Alteman is known for her love of dinosaurs, ponies wearing sweaters, and overuse of commas. She is an editor’s nightmare. She won a spelling bee in the 8th grade for correctly spelling “carrot” and knew from that moment she was destined to be an amazing journalist, or a sarcastic blogger; she went with the latter. Ashley details her laugh-out-loud parenting and personal fails at SmashleyAshley.com. You can also find this hot mess fumbling around on Facebook

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