I mean the Mother of the Year Award.

Oh yes, I won again — this month. My mothering practices are so offensive that I am actually awarded the Mother of the Year Award every month.

You thought you won, didn't you? Ha! No way. Eat my dust, bitches.

So I've actually worn Nora and Ava down, and they now enjoy going to the gym with me. Remember this story, in which I couldn't leave my girls at the gym childcare center for five minutes before the folks who worked there paged me? Well, I have managed to break my children. Nora now asks to go there, and Ava is simply accepting. I think she may actually like the people who work there better than she likes me, but I try not to dwell on it. I am finally able to work out, take a yoga class, or simply sit in the cafe and stare at a wall if I want. And yes, I can get a bikini wax in peace. Thank Jesus. The maximum amount of time a child is allowed to remain in the childcare center is two hours, which means I leave the girls there for approximately two hours and five minutes. Ok, fine, I wait until they page me.

Ha! I'm just kidding. Ahem.

So today I took the girls to the gym and watched, with considerable glee, as they waved good-bye to me and rushed off to play with the other little kids. I worked out at my leisure and thoroughly kicked my own ass. It was great.

And THEN, once I was done, I got my stuff out of my locker and started walking out the door.

As I approached the front door, it occurred to me that I had forgotten something. Hmmm. Keys? Check. Membership card? Check. Sweatshirt? Check. Well, what the hell….?

I started laughing aloud when I realized what I had nearly done: I'd nearly left my kids at the gym.

That's right, people. Mother of the Fucking Year, right here. You got nothing on me. I will win EVERY TIME.

"Me? AGAIN? Oh, I'm blushing! I'd like to thank my difficult children, my self-indulgence, my lack of medication, and my fine, well-toned ass — which is currently hanging out of my mini-skirt!" Photo by Malven via iStockphoto.

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