ABOUT

ABOUT…

2009 Headshot 001Stacey Hatton writes the humor column, LAUGHING WITH KIDS, which appears in The Kansas City Star newspaper twice monthly. She can also be found in over 50 websites.

She is a co-author of the New York Times Best Selling humor anthology, “I Just Want to Pee Alone” (Throat_Punch Books, 2013). She also contributed to the #1 best selling parenting humor book, “I Just Want to Be Alone,” which was released in 2014.   Other Hatton essays can be found in the anthologies, “Not Your Mother’s Book…on Parenting,” (Publishing Syndicate, 2014) “Not Your Mother’s Book…on Cats,” (Publishing Syndicate, 2015) and “My Funny Major Medical” (My Funny Books, 2012)

In addition to her column, she writes the blog, LAUGHING WITH KIDS (formerly Nurse Mommy Laughs), where she shares her musings on parenting, children, and motherhood.

Hatton also blogs for Huffington Post Parents and Comedy sections and is featured on BlogHer.com, The SITS Girls, Erma Bombeck Writer’s Workshop website, and Yahoo! Associated Content.

Stacey appeared monthly on the NBC morning talk show, Kansas City Live! on KSHB-TV. She was part of a mommy panel, sharing how she survives raising children by adding a sense of humor and laughter.

She has spoken at schools, mom’s groups, women’s groups, and several health associations regarding parenting and how laughter heals the soul.

In 2012, Stacey was voted the Circle-of-Mom’s Best of Mom Authors award. She also received the Talent Competition grand prize at the National Society of Newspaper Columnists in 2014. Licensed Nurse voted her blog, Nurse Mommy Laughs, as one of the “Top 25 Nurse Blogs.”

Hatton is a proud member of the Erma Bombeck Writers’ Workshop and The National Society of Newspaper Columnists.

Before Stacey became a humorist, she worked as a pediatric registered nurse and prior to that a professional musical theater actress. With her wide-ranging work track record, she’s attempting to get the most out of her time on earth.

Stacey is married to an Electrical Engineer, so not only does she not have to change light bulbs, but also she can have electrical outlets installed anytime and any place. They live in Kansas City with their two daughters, who are 14-months apart and a constant source of entertainment.

©2009-2016, Stacey Hatton. All rights reserved.

Recent Posts

Super Bowl Hangover Week

– photo provided by Anthony Behar, TNS

So have you recovered from last Sunday’s football? What a game and what a party!

I’m sure many of you are still wearing your elastic band pants. That mammoth-sized ingestion of sodium gets the best of us. Once the swelling goes down and folks don’t have hobbit feet, the silent focus is on getting your proper digestion back in check.

How will all of that cheese dip pass without killing me?

Did you know the average Super Bowl viewer consumes 4,000 to 6,000 calories during one game? I believe that’s cutting it close to the caloric requirement of a Killer Whale. Thanksgiving is a only 3,000 calories, and we all get prepared for that day by kicking up the cardio a few weeks prior. OK, maybe not everyone does that, but they sure think about it… real hard.

The caloric gluttony, while enjoying a game with large men jumping in a pile of flailing limbs, is disgraceful and I cannot condone that behavior. Unless there’s 7-layer or spinach artichoke dip, then, “People, slowly back away from the table or someone might lose a finger!”

Why is it a prerequisite to gorge on carbs and sit on the couch watching others exercise? Not even marathon runners prepare before the big race with that much starch. Now I could see the football players pigging out after the big game; especially, if they covered some major yardage. They’d deserve it — Bucky, Jr. and your other brother Darrell, probably not so much.

So how about those Cowboys!?

I’ve never been a football fan or spectator. Any sport that takes four hours is not within my attention span range. I do love catching the commercials and basing my stock options on who can afford a 30-second spot.

Pistachios? You really make that much money?

But my true reason for this season is… you guessed it, the H-A-L-F-T-I-M-E Show!!!

Remember the days when amazing bands would show off their new dance moves? Before social media saturated the web, taking the fun out of seeing performers live? Then later when performers cursing had to be bleeped out and certain “swimming suit” areas became exposed, the quality went downhill. That is until The Lady Gaga.

She refers to herself as a performing artist, which gives her a fish-netted leg up on the creativity of her show. No performer in the 50 years of Super Bowling had requested the closed roof of the stadium be opened for her and her drone backup dancers of the sky.

She was like David Bowie except with no pants, singing and shaking her moneymaker for the world to see. She came down from the roof like a sparkling frog with un-brushed hair; and using a Hollywood sleight of hand, she air-swam to the stage with patriotic grace. I haven’t checked the facts, but I’m 100 percent certain she is the first musical act to incorporate the game of football with the performance. You’d think that would be an obvious theme for a half-time show, but what do I know?

The close of Ms. Gaga’s genius show came to an end, with her catching a bedazzled football, executing an epic mic drop, and jumping off a 12-foot platform into thin air, confusing the cameraman and spectators at home. Brilliant!

Who knows maybe performing artists will make a comeback and move out of coffee shops and libraries? This was a show, which left us craving more and she didn’t even need to wear her meat dress. A seven-layer dip costume would have done me in.

So I had an idea, back to the starch and fat fest…

What if you had your guests dance to the half-time show? The beer is cut off unless they get up and move it. Think of how many calories your friends could burn before round two.

Next year, I’m going to throw a Cardio Super Bowl party. Get out your yoga pants, Ladies because we’re gonna sweat.

Plus, yoga pants have elastic waistbands. Bonus.

(previously published in The Kansas City Star on February 10, 2017)

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