If March "comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb," well, then, parents, this month the stars have it that...

ARIES: You'll go in to Gymboree Play & Music as a well-meaning, albeit somewhat emasculated, suburban dad in a fleece jacket and come out a homicidal misanthrope carrying a $12 Play and Learn with Bubbles! book.

TAURUS: You'll go in to the bathroom for five minutes of peace and come out after fifteen unproductive seconds, wielding a toilet brush and threatening to give your kids "something to really scream about."

GEMINI: You'll go in to Target for three pairs of toddler socks and a large jug of Windex and come out with: seven bulk-size plastic jars of miniature Kit Kats; a floral bikini from the Juniors department that might have fit you in fifth grade; thirteen pairs of toddler socks; some porch furniture cushions guaranteed to make you look really hip (that is, if you actually had porch furniture); a couple of hard-to-find Charlie and Lola DVDs that will, undoubtedly, give your daughter a British lilt; six wicker baskets that might fit perfectly on your pantry shelf but most likely won't and you'll never return them but instead probably just throw them in your sister's garage sale next summer; an US Weekly featuring Reese and Jake's breakup; an impulse Diet Coke from the checkout fridge; and -- oh shit! do you have early-onset Alzheimer's or is your bedhead just in your ass? -- not that large jug of Windex.

CANCER: You'll go in to your doctor for a pap smear and come out with tear-stained cheeks, a box of Kleenex, a prescription for Zoloft, and a pamphlet on tummy tucks.

LEO: You'll go in to the bar for a couple of beers with the guys and come out seven hours later in your boxers, searching madly for your iPhone so that you can call the Taco Bell chihuahua and ask if they still have the Volcano Nachos on the menu. And, oh yeah ladies, who's coming to the gun show?

VIRGO: You'll go in to the PTA meeting with a couple of concerns about a certain parent and come out on a stretcher.

LIBRA: You'll come in to your house, take one whiff, and burn rubber to who-knows-where, you're just going to drive until that stench leaves your nostrils. Hell, it may require smoking half a pack of Camels while you listen to Rush's Hemispheres, but if that's what it takes, that's what it takes. Don't count on me for dinner.

SCORPIO: You'll go in to the J. Crew dressing room with 7 pairs of jeans suggested by that skinny bitch sales assistant who insisted "matchstick" was not the same as "toothpick" and come out with some of those Thriller contacts in your eyes hoping to bitchslap that girl to last Thursday with a ballet flat.

SAGITTARIUS: You'll go in to the pediatrician with a kid who doesn't know he's getting a shot and come out with a kid who's getting a new bike and ice cream and maybe a diamond-encrusted set of Transformers, or, I dunno, maybe a scooter made of rubies.

CAPRICORN: You'll go in to see "Alvin and the Chipmunks: The Squeakquel" and come out a heroin addict.

AQUARIUS: You'll pull in to the Wendy's drive thru for your dry cleaning and leave with a Frosty, but only after trying to make a bank deposit.

PISCES: You'll go away for a romantic weekend with your husband and come home pregnant.

Our February HORRORscopes are for all you parents delusional enough to think you'll have a romantic Valentine's Day. Yes. You can buy the chocolate-dipped strawberries, you can buy the thong. But you can't freeze the kids in carbonite. At least not legally.

ARIES: You'll get halfway through an overcooked lobster tail before a call from the sitter asking where you keep the Shop-Vac.

TAURUS: You'll get two egg rolls into a Pupu Platter before a call from the sitter asking where you keep the rubber gloves.

GEMINI: You'll get three bites into your Dover sole before a call from the sitter asking where you keep the leafblower. And the Benadryl. And a waterproof mattress pad.

CANCER: A couple of sips of your cosmo before a call from the sitter asking if your health plan covers dental. And mental. And the neighbor's Mercedes.

LEO: Fuck it. We're staying in this year. It'll be romantic. I promise. Just let me just get the kids bathed.

VIRGO: And let me get them into their pajamas. And let me Q-tip their ears. And maybe clip their fingernails. And toenails.

LIBRA: Tell you what, Honey. While I'm up here doing the bedtime routine, why don't you go on and put the lasagna in the oven. Oh, and let the wine breathe. What? I'm just reminding them to brush their teeth. What's that? Yes. It's in the fridge. The fridge! On the third shelf. Behind the milk.

SCORPIO: For the love of all things sacred! Behind the milk! What are you? Blind? Deaf? Certifiably insane? And as for you two, I am not reading another book. Get in bed this instant!!! Your father and I are trying to have a romantic goddamned dinner!!!

SAGITTARIUS: OK. One more book. But not that one. What? This one? The Giving Tree? The Giving Tree?! Why don't you just go on and smother me slowly? It's so sad. It's about someone who gives and gives and gives until she's nothing more than a withered old stump.

CAPRICORN: I am NOT crying. Now turn out the lights.

AQUARIUS: NOW!! AND QUIT YELLING AT EACH OTHER!!! DON'T YOU KNOW WE DON'T YELL IN THIS HOUSE?

PISCES: Is that the smoke alarm?

In honor of a new decade, Bill Newman (our distinguished, disgruntled haiku writer) presents you with some astrological resolutions. And what's more likely to transpire.

ARIES:

Resolution: Help your husband clean out the closet

More Likely: Help your husband come out of the closet

TAURUS

Resolution: Low Carb

More Likely: Low Care

GEMINI:

Resolution: Have another kid

More Likely: Hire another kid

CANCER:

Resolution: Bring home the bacon

More Likely: Bring home the swine flu

LEO:

Resolution: Buns of steel

More Likely: Old hot dog buns with the mold picked off and then smeared with jelly are perfectly acceptable to serve your kids for breakfast, right?

VIRGO:

Resolution: Potty training

More Likely: Pot

LIBRA:

Resolution: Go to the gym

More Likely: Jim Beam

SCORPIO:

Resolution: Eat organic and local

More Likely: The Chipotle down the street

SAGITTARIUS:

Resolution: Read War and Peace

More Likely: Tie your own tubes

CAPRICORN:

Resolution: Go to Australia

More Likely: Get the runs at Outback Steakhouse

AQUARIUS:

Resolution: Train for a marathon

More Likely: Thomas the Train marathon

PISCES:

Resolution: Go back to school to get a master’s degree

More Likely: Go back to school to drop off your kid’s clarinet

This month, our beloved Jason Rock (of "rumpelstiltskin" fame) provides us with some heart-warming holiday astrology. Jason can be reached at: rockpaperjason@gmail.com

ARIES: On the first day of Christmas your true love gave to you: a Partridge Family eight-track and a dented can of Bartlett pears in heavy syrup.

TAURUS: On the second day of Christmas your true love gave to you: two cans of Turtle Wax and the wrapper from a Dove Ice Cream Bar. I stole the last one while you were upstairs putting the kids to bed. Psych!

GEMINI: On the third day of Christmas your true love gave to you: three petrified French fries and a couple of chicken McNuggets I found under the minivan's floor mat.

CANCER: On the fourth day of Christmas your true love gave to you: four calling cards that might have some minutes left on them, but I'm not too sure about that. Why don't you let me have them back so I can test them out?

LEO: On the fifth day of Christmas your true love gave to you: five Golden Retriever turds I found on the dining room rug. I'm not sure what to do with them. Do I just flush these, Honey, or should I throw them in the garbage? What? Why are you looking at me like that? It's an honest question!

VIRGO: On the sixth day of Christmas your true love gave to you: a photo of six geese getting laid. Again. Why are you looking at me like that? This is a nice damn nature photo!

LIBRA: On the seventh day of Christmas your true love gave to you: seven Schwan's frozen dinners, swimming in resentment.

SCORPIO: On the eighth day of Christmas your true love gave to you: Hey, look, I can't afford eight maids to provide this freaking family with milk, much less clean our decrepit split-level, but here's a nice breast pump I found on eBay and a Swiffer WetJet.

SAGITTARIUS: On the ninth day of Christmas your true love gave to you: nine ladies dancing. Yes. That's holiday code for: gift card to strip club. Wait. I changed my mind. Give that back. That's mine. Here's your gift card. It's to Cracker Barrel. And it's for $15! Go enjoy yourself some cornbread while I enjoy myself a lap dance.

CAPRICORN: On the tenth day of Christmas your true love gave to you: Hmm. I don't know any lords, much less ones that leap around. But here's a Whitman's Sampler. I left you the ones with walnuts.

AQUARIUS: On the eleventh day of Christmas your true love gave to you: eleven corncob pipes. Because, hey! Who doesn't like a corncob pipe? Am I right? It's a goddamned pipe made out of goddamned corn! Frickin' genius!

PISCES: On the twelfth day of Christmas your true love gave to you: twelve drumsticks. The boneless kind from Wendy's. They're sorta cold after sitting in my car while I was in the strip club, but it's the thought that counts.