This blog is not for the light-hearted or easily offended. If either one of those descriptions applies to you, i would suggest you start drinking before you read this blog. A sense of humor is suggested. If you don't have one that sucks for you … find one and get a life!

Go ahead, amuse me Sherry


Todays guest on Go ahead, amuse me is Sherry Chidwick and she blogs over at Portrait of the Artist.  Please go check her out over there.  Here’s what she has to say about herself!

Hi!  I’m Sherry Chidwick, the slightly irreverent wife of one great man and mom of two funny kids, a former city girl now living in the wilds of rural Montana, a former education nerd and high school teacher turned into a homeschool mom, all of which provides me with a constant source of amusement.  I’m also slowly becoming a hick, but I don’t want to talk about that.  I have been blogging over at Portrait of the Artist as a Young Mom ( since 2004, even though I’m really stretching the truth these days to still call myself a young mom. 

“The Perfect Mom”


I have to admit: I have never really been much of a little kid mom—you know—the kind of mom who adores babies and toddlers and thinks back on the sippy-cup-and-bath-toy-years as the ‘good old days,’ the kind of mom who proudly carries a canvas tote bag covered with little primary-colored kids’ hand prints, the kind of mom who, ten years after the youngest has gone off to college, still misses being called Mommy.


In fact, even before my own kids were born, the very sound of the word mommy grated on my nerves a bit.  Ok, a lot.  I taught my kids early to refer to me asMama.  The lack of a long vowel sound on the end of the word seemed less likely to devolve into a whining, demanding, ear drum shattering shriek, somehow.  Of course, my daughter did manage to turn mama into mumma, which, if you try it for yourself, can be rattled off in rapid-fire repetition much faster than mama, for some unknown linguistic reason.  Thus spoken with the innate desperate persistence of a three year old, it can become fairly effective—a tactic that perhaps could be used effectively in a place such as…say…Guantanamo Bay without venturing beyond the interrogation guidelines set down by the Geneva Conventions.  But still, it was better than Mommy for me.


But, all that having been said, I did still have my moments.  I did still find myself caught up in the sweetness of those early years—their cuddly bodies in the fleece footie pajamas right before bedtime; their unwavering trust as they jumped from the third step up into outstretched arms, their sweet, perfect smiles (before the teeth started to come out, leave gaping holes which invariably refilled themselves badly with crooked teeth that made every smile from then on into a menacing reminder of just how painful their upcoming orthodontia bills would be).  Yes, I did stop and treasure those early years once in a while, just not very often.


It was in one of these rare moments, while snuggling their little PJ-clad bodies, fresh out of the bath in that five minute window of the day when nothing is sticky or smells bad that I asked my kids a question.


“So, kiddos,” I asked, nuzzling close to their cherubic faces, “if you could make the perfect mama, what would she be like?”


I will admit that it was a stupid question to ask small children, but hey, I like to research things and take surveys.  I’m kind of odd that way.  It was my own little attempt at finding out what they really think.


“Just like you, Mama,” they crooned sweetly, each one reaching up to kiss one of my cheeks.


I wish with all my heart that the previous sentence could be truthful, but alas, it just isn’t.


No, without a moment’s hesitation they instead launched into a long list of characteristics of some other mama—the mama of their dreams, a mama who saysyes. Often.


The perfect mom would let them stay up as late as they want.


The perfect mom would never make them clean up their toys.


The perfect mom would never make them clean up their bodies.


The perfect mom would allow unlimited junk food at all times of the day.


The perfect mom would take them to McDonalds whenever they want (read 21+ times per week), and would allow them to get a Happy Meal with a toy.  Every.  Single.  Time.


The perfect mom would always let them have as many friends over as they want, no matter how tired she is.


The perfect mom would never select which TV shows are appropriate and which are not.


The perfect mom would let them eat in the playroom instead of making them go to the table.


The perfect mom would never tie up the computer with her own dumb e-mails and blogging, but would make it available at all times, day or night, for their own junior computer games, complete with their obnoxious, high-pitched sound effects.


You get the idea.


So here’s my thought. Someone needs to create a video game called “The Perfect Mom.” It should be a simulation along the lines of SimCity or Farmville. Players get to choose from a gallery of mothers and even program her responses to various questions–or at least select her responses from a variety of options. I can just see my sappy sweet little SimSelf walking around the screen, waiting on the kids and their little neighbor friends hand and foot, a plastic smile plastered on my serene face and a voice unnaturally calm and agreeable.


“Mom!! Can we have some cookies?”


“Why certainly, angels, how many would you like?”


“Uh, the whole cookie jar?”


“Of course, my little lambs.”


An entire neighborhood of SimKids exchange high-fives and stampede to the kitchen.


So the kids get to do whatever they want, but as in any good simulation game, reality begins to set in. They suffer terrible tummy aches and are doubled-over in pain; grimy bodies fall prey to illness and disease; the house is eventually condemned; bleary eyed and exhausted, their brains turn to mush and they drop out of school after the third grade, destined to a life of misery.


Of course, they can try to play the game again, selecting a balance of healthy responses from Mom, and see if they can figure out how to survive.


At this point, I am accepting submissions from video game designers.  The only ones I have heard back from so far, unfortunately, have all turned down my idea, mumbling something about how it would be really stupid and kids wouldn’t play it.  Perhaps I should turn my attention instead to creating a new torture, er, I mean interrogation manual.



Go ahead, amuse me is a weekly posting I will be having featuring another funny blogger.  Or maybe not a blogger … you could just be a funny person.  So, if you would like to be featured all you have to do is email me at and send me a funny post.  If I AGREE that it’s funny, I’ll simply put up your post with a short intro that you write so that my readers will check out your blog.  Of course, you also need to put up a link to my blog saying that you’re being featured over here.


See? WIN-WIN … hope to hear from you … or not!

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  1. By Word of Mouth Musings
    February 9, 2012

    Waving to Sherry in this neck of the woods today … so glad to see you found one of my very best bloggy bff’s and are here on her blog today! I think this game shows incredible potential!
    And i am a sucker for little ones on footie pj’s!

    Hi Lynn – chat later xxxx
    By Word of Mouth Musings recently posted..Wordy Wordless Wednesday Feb 7th – We Need to Fight CancerMy Profile

    • @MontanaSherryC
      February 9, 2012

      Waving back from my own neck of the woods–although I’m thinking my woods are literal and yours are only figurative, right?

  2. Name *
    February 9, 2012

    “In fact, even before my own kids were born, the very sound of the word mommy grated on my nerves a bit. Ok, a lot. I taught my kids early to refer to me as Mama. ”

    Hey! I could have written that. I did the same thing, and for exactly the same reason.

    • @MontanaSherryC
      February 9, 2012

      Good to know I’m not the only one. Mommy is one of those names we are supposed to like, for some reason, so it seems a little sacrilegious to admit that you don’t like it. At all.

  3. Julie
    February 9, 2012

    These Thursday guest posts are really starting to cramp my style ~ I am now following so many funny people out there I just hide in my office all day and “pretend” to do my job. Side note Lynn – hell of a game last night!

    • Lynn
      February 9, 2012

      I know right? that was an astonishing win. We couldn’t believe it. Sorry to keep introducing new people. Ironically, it’s doing VERY LITTLE to increase my readership. oh well

    • @MontanaSherryC
      February 9, 2012

      I’m all for hiding and pretending!

    • The Anecdotal Baby
      February 9, 2012

      I hear that! Fortunately I freelance, but some days I have to choose between housework and reading other’s blogs… we all know how that ends.

  4. Pamela D Hart
    February 9, 2012

    I loved being called “Mama” too.

    There’s a clip on TV from the “Family Guy” where Stuie (sp?) is saying “Mum, Mum, Mum, Mummy…” IT.DRIVES.ME.INSANE.

    How about they call us a select cuss word, then we can slap them every time they call us.

    I’m JOKING…sort of. ;-)

    P.S. You’re SO lucky to live in Montana! It’s a beautiful state, from what I’ve seen in pics from a friend of mine.
    Pamela D Hart recently posted..Search Keywords For Blog Success~ Or A GiggleMy Profile

    • Julie
      February 9, 2012

      @Pamela D Hart: My daughter does that to me every once in a while just so she can see me lose my mind. Family Guy is such a gulty pleasure (it’s so wrong, it’s right) but that Stuie clip MUST. BE. STOPPED!!!

      • Pamela D Hart
        February 9, 2012

        Julie, my oldest son does it just to tease me. The jerk.

    • @MontanaSherryC
      February 9, 2012

      hee hee hee
      @MontanaSherryC recently posted..What–Me, Funny?My Profile

      • Pamela D Hart
        February 9, 2012

        oh.dear.gawd! It’s even LONGER on the video than the tv clip! I would slap him silly if he were my kid!

  5. Alison Hodgson
    February 9, 2012

    Nice post, Sherry. I too preferred Mama over Mommy, but it never bothered me to hear other kids call their mothers, Mommy, it was when the grown women referred to themselves as such to other adults and worse, included me, “Well Mommies need to have fun too!” “Do you have something special for the Mommies?”

    • @MontanaSherryC
      February 9, 2012

      Thanks. I always felt sorry for the other women who were being summoned by a screeching “Momeeeeeeeeeee!” across the playground–they didn’t think of it early enough and the patterns were set. I never feel bad, however, for the women who refer to themselves as Mommy–a bit repulsed, perhaps, but not sorry. It’s their own dang fault. Nice to see you here, Alison. Thanks for stopping by.

  6. @MontanaSherryC
    February 9, 2012

    Great idea with the slapping bit. Sort of. ;-)

    And yes, you’re right about Montana. I can’t believe I get to live in such a beautiful place.

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