So I know that you are all dying to know what happened when my parents arrived yesterday, but it was fairly uneventful. My mom actually complimented me on the cleanliness of the bathroom and the fact that there were only 2 hampers of dirty clothes and one of clean. Then she saw the kids' bedrooms. Luckily, her judgement was mainly directed at the minions. Specifically the 2 oldest who "know better" and who "ought to be helping their poor mother" because she has enough to worry about. (Picture me nodding vigorously in the background....) She later chastised me for "being at war with my children" and I took it like a champ. Mainly because it's pretty much a one sided war, but also because I know that she really has no clue what I do on a daily basis.
Today I fully expect the conversation to turn ugly as we will no doubt turn to what I am going to "do" with my life once the kids are all in school full time. She thinks that my blog is "a nice little hobby" but doesn't understand why I'd want to "write a diary for the whole world to read." I mentioned to her yesterday that I was ranked #23 in the humor category on Top Mommy Blogs, and she was completely unimpressed. She said (and I quote) "Well, that's nice, but how many people actually read what you write? I've never even heard of 'Top Mommy Blogs.' I mean, blogging is not a job." Well......no.....it's not a 'job' in the sense that I get PAID or anything, but it IS work. Especially since I've been trying to do it every day.
This is the question that I expect to hear tomorrow, mainly because it is the question that ALWAYS comes up when discussing my career plans: "Why don't you look into becoming a nurse? Like your sister...." Well frankly because I don't WANT to be a nurse. Also because I'd make a HORRIBLE nurse -- can you guys picture me as a nurse? Here's how that scenario plays out in my head:
Patient presses call button......
(No response)
Presses again......
(No response)
And again.....
Me: "WHAT??!"
Patient: "Ummmm....I need to go to the bathroom...."
Me: "And?"
Patient: "Well, I, uh, kind of have 2 broken legs and a ruptured kidney, and I just woke up from a 3 year comma....."
Me: "Crap. Can you hold it for a bit? I'm updating my blog...."
Also, there are all these rules and regulations about what you can and can't say to a patient without getting the place where you work and yourself sued. Not to mention the HIPAA Laws about not talking ABOUT patients in any way -- even annonomously. Without being able to get on here at the end of my shift and rant about the weirdos on my ward, I'd go nuts and quit within a month. Bottom line: I don't want to be a nurse "like my sister" -- I rarely (if ever) in my life have wanted to be ANYTHING "like my sister." My sister and I are not that much alike....in fact we're like night and day. She is graduating from nursing school (with honors) next month and will make an AWESOME nurse. She is empathetic and tough at the same time -- PERFECT nursing material. She can be all business and impartial, while making you feel like you're her primary focus. Not me. If I like you and you die, I will be a blubbering idiot for days. If I don't like you, well, you might die because I will avoid going into your room for anything short of a "code blue." She is able to hold a patient's hand through a tough procedure and then go get ice cream with her kids. I get too emotionally involved....one way or the other.
So my focus today will be to avoid the conversation as long as possible, and then dodge her career questions by saying that I am considering going back to school and still "researching possible career paths." This, is not entirely untrue.....I AM considering taking some classes in web design....... to improve the look and accessibility of my blog and possibly do a little freelance web design. The truth is, I was seriously interested in going to law school until I found out that you cannot legitimately do it online at 2 AM and that it costs about $80 Grand. Then I was going to get my MBA, but I HATED the corporate jobs I've had, so I figured that would be an exercise in futility. Besides, lawyers have to wear shoes and yoga pants are not appropriate business attire. I want a job where I only have to put on a bra if I am meeting with my publisher, and only then if I am going to their office. I am just not sure that my parents will ever consider me a writer until I can show them a check. Right now, I am perfectly happy with my job -- full time wife to one, mother to four, and comic relief to dozens.....
This is me...
I'm having a mom moment....
Friday, April 15, 2011
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Raise Your Glass
So last night I cooked dinner -- not "Microwave for 3 minutes, pull back plastic and stir potatoes" cooked, but like an ACTUAL meal. I made Poppy Seed Chicken. Now, granted, Poppy Seed Chicken is basically pouring a bunch of stuff into a bowl and stirring it then putting it the oven for 35 minutes, but still....I COOKED. It must be because I was feeling so domestic with all the preparations for my parents' visit this afternoon. Speaking of which, I still have a TON of stuff left to do.....and re-do.
While I was cooking dinner, the minions were making their own preparations. The picture below is NOT what they were told to do -- not even close. They were supposed to be picking up the gazillion and five Legos upstairs so that I could vacuum. Apparently that seemed less important than this:
In case you can't see it well, it says "Welcome to Texas Grandmother and Pa!!" And yes, that DOES say "Grandmother rolls!!" (I guess that is because I ROCK!) Now, kudos to them for spelling all of it correctly, and for locating all of the pictures that they used, but I doubt that this "Welcome" will be enough of a distraction to keep my mother from noticing that the carpet upstairs hasn't been vacuumed in at least 3 weeks, or that the laundry isn't all folded and put away, or that the beds aren't made. And, since I cooked dinner, there will most likely be dishes in the sink. Oh, and while the 2 older minions were designing and assembling THIS masterpiece, the 2 younger minions were working on their own:
I think that this is a collage of sorts.....it looks like a shrine, but I think it is more of a collage. This is in the 2 year old's room. It doesn't even use half of the stuffed animals that they own. I am a little impressed at the level of symmetry that they accomplished with this though.
I am considering just handling my parents like I did when I was a teenager -- when they get here I will blast the last verse of Pink's "Raise Your Glass" (thanks to Nikki over at Moms Who Drink and Swear for the inspiration):
So if you're too school for cool,
And you're treated like a fool,
You can choose to let it go
We can always, we can always,
Party on our own
(so raise your) So raise your glass if you are wrong,
In all the right ways,
All my underdogs, (perhaps change this to "underlings"....)
We will never be never be anything but loud
And nitty gritty, dirty little freaks
Won't you come on and come on and raise your glass,
Just come on and come on and raise your glass
Won't you come on and come on and raise your glass,(for me)
Just come on and come on and raise your glass (for me)
I wanted to embed the video, but stupid YouTube wouldn't let me. I tried to include a link that would allow you to listen to the song, but since Blogger Preview feature is messing up, I won't know if it worked until I publish the post.......but here it is:
Raise Your Glass -- Pink
That is me -- LOUD.
That is my kids -- nitty, gritty, dirty little freaks.
We're wrong in all the right ways -- we didn't clean the house for my parents' visit, but there is a killer Bendaroos messages on the wall and a stuffed animal collage for them in the bedroom. I will have this song on loop alllllllll day as I make efforts to straighten up at least.
So, all my fellow moms out there who are also wrong in all the right ways and who will never be (never be) ANYTHING but loud -- Raise your glass (for me).
While I was cooking dinner, the minions were making their own preparations. The picture below is NOT what they were told to do -- not even close. They were supposed to be picking up the gazillion and five Legos upstairs so that I could vacuum. Apparently that seemed less important than this:
In case you can't see it well, it says "Welcome to Texas Grandmother and Pa!!" And yes, that DOES say "Grandmother rolls!!" (I guess that is because I ROCK!) Now, kudos to them for spelling all of it correctly, and for locating all of the pictures that they used, but I doubt that this "Welcome" will be enough of a distraction to keep my mother from noticing that the carpet upstairs hasn't been vacuumed in at least 3 weeks, or that the laundry isn't all folded and put away, or that the beds aren't made. And, since I cooked dinner, there will most likely be dishes in the sink. Oh, and while the 2 older minions were designing and assembling THIS masterpiece, the 2 younger minions were working on their own:
I think that this is a collage of sorts.....it looks like a shrine, but I think it is more of a collage. This is in the 2 year old's room. It doesn't even use half of the stuffed animals that they own. I am a little impressed at the level of symmetry that they accomplished with this though.
I am considering just handling my parents like I did when I was a teenager -- when they get here I will blast the last verse of Pink's "Raise Your Glass" (thanks to Nikki over at Moms Who Drink and Swear for the inspiration):
So if you're too school for cool,
And you're treated like a fool,
You can choose to let it go
We can always, we can always,
Party on our own
(so raise your) So raise your glass if you are wrong,
In all the right ways,
All my underdogs, (perhaps change this to "underlings"....)
We will never be never be anything but loud
And nitty gritty, dirty little freaks
Won't you come on and come on and raise your glass,
Just come on and come on and raise your glass
Won't you come on and come on and raise your glass,(for me)
Just come on and come on and raise your glass (for me)
I wanted to embed the video, but stupid YouTube wouldn't let me. I tried to include a link that would allow you to listen to the song, but since Blogger Preview feature is messing up, I won't know if it worked until I publish the post.......but here it is:
Raise Your Glass -- Pink
That is me -- LOUD.
That is my kids -- nitty, gritty, dirty little freaks.
We're wrong in all the right ways -- we didn't clean the house for my parents' visit, but there is a killer Bendaroos messages on the wall and a stuffed animal collage for them in the bedroom. I will have this song on loop alllllllll day as I make efforts to straighten up at least.
So, all my fellow moms out there who are also wrong in all the right ways and who will never be (never be) ANYTHING but loud -- Raise your glass (for me).
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Operation Shock and Awe
Operation Parental Visit Preparedness is underway. Tuesday I did laundry (even folded and put away!) and I did dishes. I gathered pop tarts and wrappers from the floor, I vacuumed most of the downstairs. Sort of dusted....I mean, I took a dirty sock and knocked a little dust off of a few shelves. Today's goal keeps changing....keep reading to see why.
The minions have launched a counter offensive. Every Lego that my son owns is on the floor upstairs. The 4 year old freaked out looking for a toy that she has not seen or talked about for months by emptying the toy boxes. The 2 year old peed on the hall carpet. And the 7 year old "decorated" for Grandmother's visit by drawing pictures to hang on the walls.....while throwing all 36 of her "first attempts" onto the floor, ripped in half or crumpled. She also left open markers on her bed. Her sheets are now polka dotted with big blotches of "washable" marker colors like green, pink, black, red, and yellow.
There are also new Pop Tart crumbs all over my floor and couch from when I vacuumed earlier and something sticky on the table that I have already cleaned. I haven't started upstairs yet, mainly because I cannot get upstairs. The 2 youngest have literally COVERED the stairs with every stuffed animal that they own and they say its the rainforest and I can't touch it because its endangered -- thanks for that Diego.
I would like to say that the laundry is done, but there are 6 of us, so laundry is NEVER done. Add to this the fact that my 4 year old changes clothes 2 or 3 times a day and the 7 year old has her beat by 2 or 3 more. The 2 year old changes underwear about 3 times a day and HE KEEPS PEEING ON THINGS! The 9 year old is incapable of picking up after himself and when I asked him for his laundry from upstairs, he brought me a pile. Some of it was folded. Because when I had asked him to put his clothes away earlier, he didn't, he just put them on the floor. So when I told him "Bring me all of the dirty clothes from your floor" he grabbed the clean ones too. *Sigh*
So looks like maybe I should change "Operation Parental Visit Preparedness" to "Operation Shock and Awe." I am preparing for my maternal intervention.
The minions have launched a counter offensive. Every Lego that my son owns is on the floor upstairs. The 4 year old freaked out looking for a toy that she has not seen or talked about for months by emptying the toy boxes. The 2 year old peed on the hall carpet. And the 7 year old "decorated" for Grandmother's visit by drawing pictures to hang on the walls.....while throwing all 36 of her "first attempts" onto the floor, ripped in half or crumpled. She also left open markers on her bed. Her sheets are now polka dotted with big blotches of "washable" marker colors like green, pink, black, red, and yellow.
There are also new Pop Tart crumbs all over my floor and couch from when I vacuumed earlier and something sticky on the table that I have already cleaned. I haven't started upstairs yet, mainly because I cannot get upstairs. The 2 youngest have literally COVERED the stairs with every stuffed animal that they own and they say its the rainforest and I can't touch it because its endangered -- thanks for that Diego.
I would like to say that the laundry is done, but there are 6 of us, so laundry is NEVER done. Add to this the fact that my 4 year old changes clothes 2 or 3 times a day and the 7 year old has her beat by 2 or 3 more. The 2 year old changes underwear about 3 times a day and HE KEEPS PEEING ON THINGS! The 9 year old is incapable of picking up after himself and when I asked him for his laundry from upstairs, he brought me a pile. Some of it was folded. Because when I had asked him to put his clothes away earlier, he didn't, he just put them on the floor. So when I told him "Bring me all of the dirty clothes from your floor" he grabbed the clean ones too. *Sigh*
So looks like maybe I should change "Operation Parental Visit Preparedness" to "Operation Shock and Awe." I am preparing for my maternal intervention.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Crap. No, Seriously -- CRAP!
So as I write this, it is LATE Monday night and I found out about 3 hours ago that my mom and dad are coming to visit. On Thursday. As in LESS THAN 72 hours. Crap. Perhaps I should clarify. My mother was a stay at home mom when my sister and I were little. Our house was immaculate. All the time. She cooked dinner every night and had it ready when my dad got home and we all sat at the table like a Norman Rockwell Family. (I know that you are all shocked that I was raised this way and yet still somehow managed to turn out the way that I am).
My mother is a remarkable woman and I love her and she loves me, but she has her way and I have mine. They are not the same. My mother changed the sheets on the beds at least once a week. She cleaned the bathrooms, swept, mopped, dusted, and vacuumed every week without fail. There was never a dish left in the sink over night. Clothes were never left too long in the washer making it necessary to rewash them. AND SHE IRONED. Not just shirt and pants, but pillowcases and tablecloths and napkins. (We didn't use those at normal dinners, just for company).
Once, before we had kids and we when we were living in Louisville, I took the day off of work to REALLY clean our apartment because my mom was coming to visit and I was determined to impress her by how "together" my life was. I cleaned the carpets, vacuumed the furniture, scrubbed the baseboards -- I literally cleaned EVERYTHING. My parents arrived, we hugged, and they sat on the couch. Then my mom said "Ginger, your throw pillows are filthy! You need to take the covers off and wash them." She had been there less than five minutes. That pretty much was the last time I tried to impress my mom with my "housewifery." After we had kids, it became mostly about not freaking her out. I was not always successful. Once, when she was visiting, there were 3 hampers in my laundry room. She washed, dried, and folded then all. Only problem was, they were already clean. She could not believe that I would have clean clothes all wadded up in a hamper like that. She had a sort of "intervention" with me. She said I couldn't keep living like this. I had to do better. What my mom doesn't understand is that I DO try. If I didn't try, the clothes wouldn't be clean at all.
And she'll be here Thursday night. Which means that I have approximately 2 1/2 days to do about 5 months worth of cleaning. CRAP.
I've been dealing with a sick kid and an out of town husband and lack of sleep and stuffy old ladies who send me sugary sweet yet entirely offensive emails about my blog posts and psychotic stay at home moms -- I'm not sure that I have it in me to not have her freak out a little when she gets here. I should be cleaning. But I'm not. Nope, I'm working on this blog at 12:30 on what is now Tuesday and listening to the 2 year old cough in the next room. So, you're welcome. I'll most likely be interrogated as to "how I let it get this bad" and be told that "I have to do better than this" but at least you all got your daily blog post. Crap.
My mother is a remarkable woman and I love her and she loves me, but she has her way and I have mine. They are not the same. My mother changed the sheets on the beds at least once a week. She cleaned the bathrooms, swept, mopped, dusted, and vacuumed every week without fail. There was never a dish left in the sink over night. Clothes were never left too long in the washer making it necessary to rewash them. AND SHE IRONED. Not just shirt and pants, but pillowcases and tablecloths and napkins. (We didn't use those at normal dinners, just for company).
Once, before we had kids and we when we were living in Louisville, I took the day off of work to REALLY clean our apartment because my mom was coming to visit and I was determined to impress her by how "together" my life was. I cleaned the carpets, vacuumed the furniture, scrubbed the baseboards -- I literally cleaned EVERYTHING. My parents arrived, we hugged, and they sat on the couch. Then my mom said "Ginger, your throw pillows are filthy! You need to take the covers off and wash them." She had been there less than five minutes. That pretty much was the last time I tried to impress my mom with my "housewifery." After we had kids, it became mostly about not freaking her out. I was not always successful. Once, when she was visiting, there were 3 hampers in my laundry room. She washed, dried, and folded then all. Only problem was, they were already clean. She could not believe that I would have clean clothes all wadded up in a hamper like that. She had a sort of "intervention" with me. She said I couldn't keep living like this. I had to do better. What my mom doesn't understand is that I DO try. If I didn't try, the clothes wouldn't be clean at all.
And she'll be here Thursday night. Which means that I have approximately 2 1/2 days to do about 5 months worth of cleaning. CRAP.
I've been dealing with a sick kid and an out of town husband and lack of sleep and stuffy old ladies who send me sugary sweet yet entirely offensive emails about my blog posts and psychotic stay at home moms -- I'm not sure that I have it in me to not have her freak out a little when she gets here. I should be cleaning. But I'm not. Nope, I'm working on this blog at 12:30 on what is now Tuesday and listening to the 2 year old cough in the next room. So, you're welcome. I'll most likely be interrogated as to "how I let it get this bad" and be told that "I have to do better than this" but at least you all got your daily blog post. Crap.
Monday, April 11, 2011
Haters Gonna Hate
DISCLAIMER: Okay, here's the thing: I'm tired. I mean REALLY tired. My 2 year old has had a fever of about 103 for 3 days requiring me to sit up with him to watch Yo Gabba Gabba and Diego and other such crap shows on Nick Jr. because his sleep schedule is completely out of whack and I have to get up even when he is sleeping to monitor his temperature and administer medication to keep his head from catching on fire and there are these three other kids that want things like food and permission to play video games and they need me to referee the latest fight about who called who a "Poophead" and who had the remote first and my husband is out of town so I've been up for a few days and living off of Coke, Rolos and coffee. So if this post seems a lot like a Charlie Sheen interview, please don't stop reading or send me links for mental health help sites.
Due to my continually diminishing mental status, I wasn't sure what I was going to write about today. In fact, I penned a whole post about Yo Gabba Gabba and its characters before deciding that it needed way more work than I was willing to give it and abandoning it. I tried writing about the Jehovah's Witness people that came to the door EARLY Saturday morning when I hadn't been to sleep yet, but quite frankly that whole incident is a blur and I'm not even sure that they were Jehovah's Witnesses, I just know that they were carrying Bibles and were all dressed up (and I was quite sure that I couldn't write about that without pissing someone off). But then inspiration struck in the form of hate e-mail from someone offended by my Role Playing Toys post last week. This hater doesn't follow my blog, at least not that I can tell, she may follow privately, but I doubt it. I don't think I'm her kind of mom. Here is what she wrote to me:
"Dear Madam:
I do not know you, but I sincerely hope that the contents of your blog are not any real indication of how your life really is. Children are a wonderful gift -- that gift needs to be loved and nurtured and not belittled and ridiculed. I am willing to give you the benefit of the doubt and believe that your blog is grossly over exaggerated for comedic purposes.
Specifically, I am writing to request that you remove your post which "pokes fun" at the Breast Feeding Baby Doll. I was thrilled to hear about this doll for my grandchildren. We should teach little girls that breast feeding is natural, normal, and acceptable. The tone of your post suggests that motherhood would be a poor choice. I am certain that this is not your intended message, but that is, nonetheless, how it comes across. If you were merely showing off for your friends, surely they have all seen it and would not miss it if it was removed.
I actually discovered this post while searching online for toys for my granddaughter's upcoming birthday, and continued to read a few of your posts to get a feel for whether or not your attack on housewifery was sarcastic or had malicious intent. I was pleased to discover that you are, in fact, married, and that you do have children, and therefore believe that your intent was not malicious. I will close by offering a little unsolicited advice to you: it is not always beneficial to share all of your thoughts with the world, women should always maintain an air of mystery."
Oh my. I read this about 6 times. I didn't even know that "housewifery" was a word. I tried to track the IP address to see if one of you had sent this as a joke or hoping that I would blog about it (if you did, good job). Now, where to begin? I wanted to write her back......
"Dear Stuffy Old Broad:
Yes, children are very much like gifts in the fact that once they are presented to you you are stuck with them, and the fact that some days my kids are the best gift ever and other days they are like getting socks on Christmas is EXACTLY what this blog is about. Unfortunately, it is not exaggerated at all -- this is my life. I write about whatever the hell I want to because IT'S MY BLOG.
As to your request that I remove a post because you don't like it, the answer is emphatically NO. If you question the validity of the post's claims about motherhood and "housewifery" please feel free to contact someone who has done it with 3 or more kids in the past decade and get their opinion (I mean a REAL person, not some Stepford Wife spawn that you trained to clean and do dishes and churn their own butter). I do not think that motherhood is a poor choice, I think that it is an honorable and difficult choice and I applaud anyone who can do it and keep their kids out of jail and off the pole. As for me "showing off" to my friends: lady, if I wanted to show off to my friends, I'd iron something. And what exactly did you mean by you were "pleased to find that [I am], in fact, married and have children?" Did you suspect that I was some sort of man-hater who only wrote here as propaganda for some really weird, extreme branch of a lesbian activist group against procreation?
As for your advice, I think that you need to go and look up the definition of "blog" -- although, it might not be in a dictionary that still has the word "housewifery" in it. A blog is where you rant and rave about whatever you want to. Maybe someone will read it and agree with you therefore validating your feelings. Or better yet, maybe some old biddy will respond via email about how sarcastic and malicious you sound thus providing you new material on a day when you were completely tapped out because you have been perpetually awake for nearly 72 hours dealing with a sick kid.
Go buy your granddaughter a breast feeding doll and stay off my page before I offend you again."
I then promptly deleted all of that and wrote this instead:
"In regards to your request that the "Role Playing Toys" post be removed now that I have shown off to all of my friends: NO."
Due to my continually diminishing mental status, I wasn't sure what I was going to write about today. In fact, I penned a whole post about Yo Gabba Gabba and its characters before deciding that it needed way more work than I was willing to give it and abandoning it. I tried writing about the Jehovah's Witness people that came to the door EARLY Saturday morning when I hadn't been to sleep yet, but quite frankly that whole incident is a blur and I'm not even sure that they were Jehovah's Witnesses, I just know that they were carrying Bibles and were all dressed up (and I was quite sure that I couldn't write about that without pissing someone off). But then inspiration struck in the form of hate e-mail from someone offended by my Role Playing Toys post last week. This hater doesn't follow my blog, at least not that I can tell, she may follow privately, but I doubt it. I don't think I'm her kind of mom. Here is what she wrote to me:
"Dear Madam:
I do not know you, but I sincerely hope that the contents of your blog are not any real indication of how your life really is. Children are a wonderful gift -- that gift needs to be loved and nurtured and not belittled and ridiculed. I am willing to give you the benefit of the doubt and believe that your blog is grossly over exaggerated for comedic purposes.
Specifically, I am writing to request that you remove your post which "pokes fun" at the Breast Feeding Baby Doll. I was thrilled to hear about this doll for my grandchildren. We should teach little girls that breast feeding is natural, normal, and acceptable. The tone of your post suggests that motherhood would be a poor choice. I am certain that this is not your intended message, but that is, nonetheless, how it comes across. If you were merely showing off for your friends, surely they have all seen it and would not miss it if it was removed.
I actually discovered this post while searching online for toys for my granddaughter's upcoming birthday, and continued to read a few of your posts to get a feel for whether or not your attack on housewifery was sarcastic or had malicious intent. I was pleased to discover that you are, in fact, married, and that you do have children, and therefore believe that your intent was not malicious. I will close by offering a little unsolicited advice to you: it is not always beneficial to share all of your thoughts with the world, women should always maintain an air of mystery."
Oh my. I read this about 6 times. I didn't even know that "housewifery" was a word. I tried to track the IP address to see if one of you had sent this as a joke or hoping that I would blog about it (if you did, good job). Now, where to begin? I wanted to write her back......
"Dear Stuffy Old Broad:
Yes, children are very much like gifts in the fact that once they are presented to you you are stuck with them, and the fact that some days my kids are the best gift ever and other days they are like getting socks on Christmas is EXACTLY what this blog is about. Unfortunately, it is not exaggerated at all -- this is my life. I write about whatever the hell I want to because IT'S MY BLOG.
As to your request that I remove a post because you don't like it, the answer is emphatically NO. If you question the validity of the post's claims about motherhood and "housewifery" please feel free to contact someone who has done it with 3 or more kids in the past decade and get their opinion (I mean a REAL person, not some Stepford Wife spawn that you trained to clean and do dishes and churn their own butter). I do not think that motherhood is a poor choice, I think that it is an honorable and difficult choice and I applaud anyone who can do it and keep their kids out of jail and off the pole. As for me "showing off" to my friends: lady, if I wanted to show off to my friends, I'd iron something. And what exactly did you mean by you were "pleased to find that [I am], in fact, married and have children?" Did you suspect that I was some sort of man-hater who only wrote here as propaganda for some really weird, extreme branch of a lesbian activist group against procreation?
As for your advice, I think that you need to go and look up the definition of "blog" -- although, it might not be in a dictionary that still has the word "housewifery" in it. A blog is where you rant and rave about whatever you want to. Maybe someone will read it and agree with you therefore validating your feelings. Or better yet, maybe some old biddy will respond via email about how sarcastic and malicious you sound thus providing you new material on a day when you were completely tapped out because you have been perpetually awake for nearly 72 hours dealing with a sick kid.
Go buy your granddaughter a breast feeding doll and stay off my page before I offend you again."
I then promptly deleted all of that and wrote this instead:
"In regards to your request that the "Role Playing Toys" post be removed now that I have shown off to all of my friends: NO."
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Truth in Advertising
In the past year I've been trying to decide what to do career-wise after all of my kids are in school full time. As much as I appreciate all 53 of you for following, becoming a published writer will be difficult, and telling a publisher that I'm pretty sure at least 53 people would buy a book I wrote won't be much of a selling point. With 4 college tuitions, 2 weddings, 2 rehearsal dinners, and 4 different vehicles among my future expenses, remaining a stay-at-home mom is not going to happen. If I lived in LA, or NY, or even Chicago I'd seriously consider going into advertising. However, I'm not sure how much work I'd get because I am pretty freakin' honest....to a fault. So that got me thinking about how I'd promote certain products for parents.....
Pop Tarts:
"No, they aren't healthy (not even the Low Fat or Whole Grain ones), but your kids can get them all by themselves allowing you to keep sleeping or surfing the Internet."
Clorox 2:
"You know that chocolate pudding that your kid used to decorate his brand new Easter outfit? Yeah, that's never coming out. But with Clorox 2 it might fade enough to get a picture decent enough to send to grandma."
Resolve Carpet Cleaner
"When you absolutely, positively, can't make another area rug work -- try this."
Target:
"Better than Wal-Mart and still affordable."
Sonic:
"Happy Hour from 2-4 Everyday!! Why pay full price for the drink that your kids will pour out on the floor?"
Home Owner's Insurance:
"Because you have kids, and they break stuff. A lot."
Hoover Vacuums:
"Not as good as Dyson, but you don't have to raid your kid's college funds to get one either. (And let's face it, your carpet is shot anyway.)"
Fabreeze:
"Because you don't want to know what is causing that smell....you just want it to go away."
Lysol:
"Because potty training is a bitch."
Any brand of Wine:
"Your romantic evenings with your spouse have led to 4 kids under 10 ....and we can help with that too."
3-In-1 Body Wash for Kids:
"When they are teenagers they will have 26 different formulations for their hair and skin that will cost you no less than $112 per month -- use this while you can."
Schlage Interior Door Locks
"Because right now you don't care that your 4 year old just drew you another picture of a kitty-cat -- you just want to pee in peace."
Draino:
"Do you know what your spawn has stuffed in the sink? Neither do we, but we're pretty sure that this crap can eat through it."
Tupperware:
"Your kids are soooooo not gonna eat all that and you have to put it somewhere."
Hamburger Helper:
"Face it, you're not Wolfgang Puck. But at least you made dinner."
Cliff Notes:
"Because you haven't read Jane Eyre since high school and your kid's paper is due tomorrow."
Crayola Washable Markers:
"Not really, but they're better than Sharpies."
KitchenAid Self Cleaning Ovens:
"Honestly, would it get cleaned otherwise?"
Midol:
"Because there's no such thing as 'A Happy Period,' but we can dull the pain enough for you to remember that its better than not having one."
I will most likely think of more of these from time to time. I'll save them up and do another one of these when I can. Feel free to add your own in the comments section.
Pop Tarts:
"No, they aren't healthy (not even the Low Fat or Whole Grain ones), but your kids can get them all by themselves allowing you to keep sleeping or surfing the Internet."
Clorox 2:
"You know that chocolate pudding that your kid used to decorate his brand new Easter outfit? Yeah, that's never coming out. But with Clorox 2 it might fade enough to get a picture decent enough to send to grandma."
Resolve Carpet Cleaner
"When you absolutely, positively, can't make another area rug work -- try this."
Target:
"Better than Wal-Mart and still affordable."
Sonic:
"Happy Hour from 2-4 Everyday!! Why pay full price for the drink that your kids will pour out on the floor?"
Home Owner's Insurance:
"Because you have kids, and they break stuff. A lot."
Hoover Vacuums:
"Not as good as Dyson, but you don't have to raid your kid's college funds to get one either. (And let's face it, your carpet is shot anyway.)"
Fabreeze:
"Because you don't want to know what is causing that smell....you just want it to go away."
Lysol:
"Because potty training is a bitch."
Any brand of Wine:
"Your romantic evenings with your spouse have led to 4 kids under 10 ....and we can help with that too."
3-In-1 Body Wash for Kids:
"When they are teenagers they will have 26 different formulations for their hair and skin that will cost you no less than $112 per month -- use this while you can."
Schlage Interior Door Locks
"Because right now you don't care that your 4 year old just drew you another picture of a kitty-cat -- you just want to pee in peace."
Draino:
"Do you know what your spawn has stuffed in the sink? Neither do we, but we're pretty sure that this crap can eat through it."
Tupperware:
"Your kids are soooooo not gonna eat all that and you have to put it somewhere."
Hamburger Helper:
"Face it, you're not Wolfgang Puck. But at least you made dinner."
Cliff Notes:
"Because you haven't read Jane Eyre since high school and your kid's paper is due tomorrow."
Crayola Washable Markers:
"Not really, but they're better than Sharpies."
KitchenAid Self Cleaning Ovens:
"Honestly, would it get cleaned otherwise?"
Midol:
"Because there's no such thing as 'A Happy Period,' but we can dull the pain enough for you to remember that its better than not having one."
I will most likely think of more of these from time to time. I'll save them up and do another one of these when I can. Feel free to add your own in the comments section.
Saturday, April 9, 2011
Holy Pop Tarts, Batman!
Over the past 2 days, my son has thrown up at school, I dealt with a psychotic SAHM, I took all four kids to the doctor, my 2 year old is running a fever, and I've had horrible cramps. So I haven't been very "hands on" in my parenting. Not that this is a whole lot different than every other day, but I've been very uninvolved.....on purpose.....because I couldn't handle the minions and all of their crap as well as the raging hormonal hell that Mother Nature was inflicting upon my midsection. Trust me, my kids are very self suficient, and they were better off with me sitting on the couch or lying in my room with the heating pad and popping Midol with a red wine chaser than they would be with me yelling at them and then turning into a blubbering idiot for yelling at them. I become like a rabid werewolf once a month and it is best to let me curl up in my den until my "full moon" wanes.
But last night as I was starting to feel like I might still be human, I got up and surveyed the damage. Now, I talk a lot on here about my kids and their absolute infatuation with Pop Tarts. Here is the photographic evidence of what less than 36 hours of me not picking up their Pop Tarts looks like:
These are just the ones I found in my preliminary sweep of the house, I haven't been upstairs yet, and they (of course) are just the ones that they didn't finish. I personally think that a Pop Tart tastes like a piece cardboard with a little jelly on it, but my kids think that they are manna from heaven. There are total meltdowns if we run out, so Pop Tarts are as much of a staple in our house as milk, eggs, and bread. You would think that with all of these Pop Tarts that I hadn't fed them in those 36 hours, but I picked up Zaxby's once, I cooked once, and we had Sonic once. And they had cereal for breakfast one day and Eggo's for the other. This is just them snacking.....like a pack of rats, or an intrusion of cockroaches.....it is disturbing because if it had been any more than 36 hours, we'd most likely have both of those. So I was up until after midnight throwing away Pop Tarts and busting out the vacuum and the Clorox Ready Wipes because if I hadn't done that, I would have not been able to sleep. I would have been paranoid about being attacked by some six legged creature in my bed.
Oh, and in a related incident, the minions also managed to spill an entire bottle of Resolve Carpet Cleaner on the stairs without actually hitting any of the 436 stains on the stair carpet.
But last night as I was starting to feel like I might still be human, I got up and surveyed the damage. Now, I talk a lot on here about my kids and their absolute infatuation with Pop Tarts. Here is the photographic evidence of what less than 36 hours of me not picking up their Pop Tarts looks like:
 |
| Behind the TV |
 |
| On the hutch in the dining area |
 |
| On a cabinet in the den |
 |
| Yes, that is in the bathroom |
 |
| On MY nightstand |
 |
| Bedroom floor |
 |
| On the bookshelf |
 |
| On the end table |
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| In front of the TV |
 |
| On the top of the bookcase in MY room |
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| On the DVD shelf |
Oh, and in a related incident, the minions also managed to spill an entire bottle of Resolve Carpet Cleaner on the stairs without actually hitting any of the 436 stains on the stair carpet.
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