What do you do when your kid is declared peanut-allergy-free after over four years of dietary limitations? You go out for Thai food with friends, baybee! The poor child had been primed for tonight in a most unconventional way. After years of only being allowed approved snacks at school, it just so happened that his first day as a "free man" brought a snacktime project of making edible schoolbuses. Out of... twinkies. With Rolos for wheels. And tootsie rolls for... okay, I STOPPED LISTENING at that point because HELLO, you people not only fed my kid TWINKIES, you then felt the need to allow...
Once upon a time there was an adorable little Monkey toddler who was fat and happy and gurgly and loved creamed spinach. Yes! CREAMED SPINACH. From Boston Market. But I digress. The point is that he happily ate just about anything you fed to him. And anything he found on the floor. Or in the dog's dish. (I suspect there will be a lot of digressions tonight.) ANYWAY. Then one day I accidentally fed him some poison, and after the excitement that went with THAT, a picky eater was born. No, I didn't hand him a brick of D-Con or make him a teether ring out of ant baits. I put him in his highchair...
We're at T-minus TWO DAYS until Chickadee goes back to school (Monkey doesn't start til next week) and already I can see that life is going to be very different this year. In ways that I really hadn't anticipated. For starters, Chickadee is going to a new school this year. New school, new layout, new rules, new (ooooh! ahhhhh!) swipe cards to use in the cafeteria! She can make her own selections at lunchtime and have whatever she picks automatically deducted from her pre-funded ID-linked account! Why does our school district think this is a good idea? In her school last year, I had to submit...
Normally, I am a great big lazy brat about comments. I love receiving them. I read them all, they make me feel warm and fuzzy (generally), and I almost never send mail back to the commenters because I have the attention span of a fruit fly UNLESS you are either rubbing my feet or feeding me something yummy. But I am so touched that so many people took the time to respond to my last post (subtitled I Am A Big Loser But Also A Comment Whore), that I am going to attempt to answer every comment. If you don't hear from me in the next couple of days, feel free to kick my ass. (Also: Thank you.)...
The Top Ten Reasons Why I Am The Obvious Salon Choice: 10) My haircuts are free. 9) I tell you how cute you are while I'm trimming. 8) I'll warn you to close your eyes so I can blow on your face to get the little pieces of hair off. 7) And sneak a kiss then, too. 6) You don't have to wear shoes. 5) Or pants. 4) If you get thirsty during the cut, I'll squirt you in the mouth with the spray bottle as many times as you want. 3) Sometimes I pretend the clippers are attacking me. 2) There is almost always candy afterwards. And the number 1 reason... 1) Do you know any other stylists who carry you...
Another sign of the Apocalypse has come to pass, and you probably didn't even know. Oh, sure; your life is busy. I understand. That's why I'm here to fill you in. You would know to take cover if it started raining frogs or the four horsemen came galloping by. But you might not know that the end of the world could also be heralded by tiny Batman undies. Yes. So, be ye informed: That time has come, and that time is now. The Time Of Tiny Batman Undies... in BED. For SLEEPING. And staying DRY. Woooooooooooooo! My children are only twenty months apart, so for a while I had two in diapers at the...
Thank you to everyone who took the time to leave feedback on the last post. I know that most folks stop by here for The Funny, and sometimes when I post on more serious topics, the crickets chirp loudly and I do my Elephant Man impersonation here, alone in my bedroom at night ("I am not an animal! I am a person!") while wondering if I always have to balance a ball on my nose while juggling two live chainsaws and a baby. Anyway. I'm glad that I had more than crickets to keep me company on that last bit o' rambling. So, thanks. As a reward for indulging me while I stared, mesmerized, into my...
There are so many important lessons we parents are responsible for teaching our children. How to share. How to take turns. How to partake of a meal in a way that won't get you thrown out of a restaurant or never invited back to a friend's house. How to put things away when you're done with them so that Mama doesn't step on them in the dark and hop around cursing while holding her injured foot. I struggle every day, hoping that I am helping my children become people whom I will be proud to know. Especially because I believe example is the best teacher, and sometimes my example isn't all that...
Baby Boomers, Gen Xers, Generation Y, Sandwich Generation... they all pale in comparison. Today's youths face issues us old fogies can never comprehend. Namely, they are wusses. My own children are a crystal-clear demonstration of this new ruling class. They are unimpressed with tales of long hikes in the snow (uphill both ways, barefoot). Tell them that there were no superhero band-aids, though, and they recoil in disbelief. I fear that in their bid to become poster children for their generation, my kids are going to empty my bank account, kill themselves, and drive me insane. Not...
