Recently, fitness enthusiast and mom Maria Kang made headlines for a photo of herself in a

Welcome to Mom's Happy Hour, in which we sort through the latest news about parents, parenting and pop culture so you don't have to. And then we add a little bit of snark and a whole lot of judgment.

Imma let you marry me

Last week, you could hear the sound of millions of hearts breaking when Kanye West proposed to new mom Kim Kardashian, complete with a 15-carat ring, a rented-out baseball stadium, and a 50-piece orchestra playing Lana Del Ray – quite the step up from his original idea of baking the ring in a Cheddar Bay Biscuit at Red Lobster. We’re pretty sure Kim is already pinning Mason jar candles and paper garlands to her Pinterest wedding board in preparation for her big day.

Dolphins take a bite out of tigers

Two years ago, tiger parenting was all the buzz in the child-rearing world. Born out of Amy Chua’s Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mom, tiger moms focused on their children’s quest for individual achievement and excellence. This year, dolphin parenting, which celebrates playing, fun, open communication, and intimacy, is gaining momentum among parenting experts.

While I think I’m more of a dolphin than a tiger, in all honesty, when this parenting stuff gets too rough, I switch into cat parenting mode. I hide under the bed when my kids are too loud, hiss when a toddler won’t stop touching me, and act aloof and bitchy for no apparent reason.

There’s a lot to love about living in St. Louis, but at this precise moment in history, it’s the St. Louis Cardinals who probably top the list. Fresh off their victory over the L.A.

We've got some fun in store for you and your little monsters!

Welcome to our weekly feature, Dirty Laundry, in which we sort through the enormous (and colorful) piles of news and gossip about parents and parenting so you don't have to. And we're throwing it in the spin cycle along with a little bit of snark and a whole lot of judgment. Here's the latest:

New app censors spoilers on social media

You’ve set the DVR for The Voice, headed to your daughter’s tumbling lesson, and spent an hour at the Y fantasizing of the moment you can get home to your couch, box of wine and Adam Levine. You casually open your Facebook account on your phone while you wait, and… “Goddamnit, Grandma!” – she just let the world know which contestant got the boot.

I am the Cinderella of the suburbs. Lured by my Broadway-esque yearnings for my Prince Charming (where for art thou, Jon Hamm?), reptiles, rodents and birds alike regularly descend upon our suburban castle for a little Alan Menken-scribed sing-along.

But these forest friends aren’t buffing my dishes clean with their fluffy tails or sewing me fabulous dresses from old burp cloths – they’re eating all my food, mating in my closets and relieving themselves on my floor like a bunch of inebriated frat boys.

When we lived in the city, we had our share of vermin – like the opossum who became my own personal jack-in-the-box by popping out of the garbage can every time I pitched the trash. Or the squirrel who loitered in our back staircase and went Christmas Vacation on us every time we opened the door.

But living the burbs is a whole new Wild Kingdom. While we live in a neighborhood, we’re also surrounded by acres of cornfields that house a menagerie of creatures that need some place to hang out when the combines take out their natural habitat.