Make. It. Stop.

So... it started with five fools.

It ended with eight.

Let's back up, though, before I jump into the outrage.

It started with Reid, who honestly, I don't even remember because of all the drama that followed. We'll call him Joe Normal since there was no drama, no ugly, no crazy, no nothing. Just a regular, everyday dude, with a couple of parents. But, since he is putting up with all the crap, something must be wrong with him. Fool #1.

Then came Michael. And, were I not married, I would really go to wherever he and his identically cute brother live and jump their 25 year old bones. There. I said it. I'm totally for this guy because he's funny, and cute, and silly, and sweet, and maybe he is not for Jillian, but he is so totally for me. With much sadness, I call him Fool #2 (but, in my heart, I will call him Mine).

After that, she flew out to Sexyton, er, I mean Kipyton. He is Mr. Hot and Steamy. Complete opposite of Michael. And, since I am all about Michael, Kipyton is not my type, but he is obviously hers.

But, what was up with his mom? She was frightening. As was that awful singing crap that Jillian had to be a party to. If my parents behaved that way the first time they were meeting a guy that was still on the fence about me, I'd be very, very skeptical about my chances. He was okay, bu and his blues singing family earned him the title, Fool #3.

Jesse was next on the list. I've been rooting for him for a while. I think it's the standoffish-really-not-that-into-you-super-hot thing he's got going on. You know, he's the guy you know is not good for you, but you totally want him to be.

Into him, but, his brother was gross. Literally, he made me dry heave a little. I can't put my finger on it, but there was something about him that just geeked me out (guess she felt the same). And, to top it all off, he was so against Jesse getting married and having kids and stuff (no need to worry, Creepy Bro). Make that 4; Fool #4.

Then it started to get good.

She flew off to Nashville to visit with D-bag (aka Wes, aka Fool #5).

All I can say is that I'm like 98% convinced that Jillian is an idiot. Not to be mean, but seriously, how gullible can you be? I know he's all hot and swaggered up, but come. On.

Wes is OBVIOUSLY just not that into her.

Let me rephrase that. Wes is OBVIOUSLY not into her at all.

Pretty sure, if he thought it would advance his career, he would date me.

I mean, the guy introduced her to his band before he introduced her to his family.

At this point, I don't even care whether or not he likes her. I'm begging her to give the guy the boot just so we don't have to hear that wack ass song ever again.

And. And. Even if she couldn't put two and two together alone, and figure out that Wes is a creep, Jake piloted himself to wherever they were at and told her: WES HAS A GIRLFRIEND. HE DOESN'T LIKE YOU. WAKE UP, DUMMY!

But, alas, she was not trying to hear that. Ergo, Fool #6 (Jake for wasting his time) and Fool #7 (Jillian, for making a career outta getting played).

In all honesty, you really can't blame Wes, she makes it so very easy. What is that saying? Don't hate the player, hate the game. Never knew exactly the context of such a saying. Pretty sure this is it.

Plus, he really can't help being a douche since he comes from a family of similarly ill formed individuals. What was up with all that, "Guys are so jealous of you. Everyone wants to be you. Show me the money," bull crap his overly-made-up-please-be-my-pimp groupies sisters were talking?

Give me a break. He is not that fly.

And, just when I thought, "This must be over, Jillian can't possibly be tricked, duped, played, or bamboozled anymore. Enough is enough. It's not even funny anymore, it's a little bit sad. Wait, why are there like 30 minutes left?", in walks Ed?

Remember him? The guy who made me think there really are normal OMG-I'm-not-getting-fired-read-my-lips-b*t@#-it's-an-effing-recession people that accidentally on purpose find themselves on this show, come to their senses, and go back to their real lives. There goes that theory; Fool #8.

Is there really that huge of a shortage of hot chicks out there that you have to quit your job and come back to the one dating like 6 other dudes? The one who may or may not even give you a chance because she is to busy being played like a guitar (pun intended) by the constantly auditioning rock star?

Let me tell you, I know a girl (cough, BFF) who is pretty, funny, smart, and single, who is not seriously dating any guys so, if you know anyone (Michael, hint, hint, although I think Jesse is probably more her type)...

I'm thinking he wound up getting the ax at work anyway, and figured, "Eh, what else do I have to do? Might as well see if I can get that dumb chick to take me back."

And, surprise, surprise, it worked!

Maybe I'm just cynical because I don't believe that you are at all likely to realistically find true love in a situation so contrived as this.

Or, maybe I'm just pissed that she kicked off the two guys that I would totally, um... go to the movies with;).

Either way, I'm not really thinking this is going to turn out any better than Jillian's last encounter with Chris Harrison.

That dude is bad luck.

As always, anxiously awaiting next week:).

My Mike

I know it's been a few days, and many people are already getting over it, moving on.

People are back to enjoying summer and living life.

And, so am I, basically.

But, I think of him a little everyday (maybe b/c my iPod is set on Man in the Mirror, and I don't have the willpower to NOT listen when it comes up).

Whatever the reason, I can't imagine a musical world without Mike (yeah, I call him Mike, we were close like that).

It's like imagining a movie theater without buttery popcorn.

It's like going to a ballgame and not hearing the National Anthem before the opening pitch.

It's wrong.

Despite the fact that Mike spent the last years of his life as a crazy, almost unrecognizable, colorless shell of his former on top of the world self, he was still an international sensation, an idol, an icon, really.

So, it's taken me a few days to wrap my head around this whole thing: Mike is dead. Not dead like Elvis (who is apparently not actually dead), dead like, dead.

When I heard the news I felt... strange.

Actually, I did my usual I-didn't-know-him-I-really-don't-care routine; I made a couple of jokes to BFF.

And then, I turned on the radio, and I started to feel... more strange.

And, as I drove home I felt my face get hot, and my stomach get tight, and tears started to drop into my lap.

And, I realized I didn't feel strange, I felt... sad.

But, I couldn't put my finger on why.

Other than the occasional cuing up of one of his hits on the iPod from time to time, Mike has only recently entered my mind in the form of a tasteless joke or sensational story.

I haven't even seen any photos of him lately. So, what's with the tears?

Could have just been an emotional week for me (I tend to have those more often these days), but I'd like to think it was more than that ('cause I like to at least pretend I'm deep).

I decided that it is; I'm not a completely shallow me-monster (usually, but not always).

I'm sad for his kids, and his mother and father and sisters and brothers.

I'm sad for all of his friends and relatives who didn't just see formerly-black-but-mysteriously-white-where-did-he-get-that-nose-please-tell-me-this-is-a-joke Mike.

And, I'm sad for me (it really is quite possibly ALWAYS at least partially about me isn't it?).

Because, Mike was my first love. My jheri-curled-silver-gloved-super-fast-footed-sexually-ambiguous first love.

He taught me that I like boys (or at least people who claim to be).

He taught me how to effectively obsess (as I carried him with me from room to room in the form of a record on my trusty Fisher Price portable record player) over a boy until neither he, nor anyone else, could stand hearing his name one more time.

He taught me there really were kids starving in Africa (hey, I was only 7 when We Are the World came out).

And, he taught me that not only do I love boys, but I love music and dancing; a love that I share with my boys every time I get the chance (which is always as I make it a point to dance in my kitchen, to their horror, daily).

This is the Mike I will miss; the Mike I fell in love with.

The leather-jacketed-moonwalking-penny-loafered-OMG-is-he-on-fire? Mike whose stickers I collected when I got so attached to him in the early eighties.

The Mike who starred in that strange Bad video/movie (remember? Mike played Darryl) that I watched an embarrassing number of times.

The Mike who inspired, influenced, and basically made so many of the artists I am a fan of today.

Because that's the Mike I know and remember.

That's the Mike my kids have grown to love.

And, that's the Mike that made me cry on Thursday (and, maybe a little on Friday, and even as I watched parts of the inefficient, but at times touching, tribute on BET last night).

So please enjoy the video; just try not to cry.

Photo of the Day

I got a new camera!!!!

I ordered it Wednesday; it came on Thursday.

I didn't even have time to get all anxious or excited or worried-sick-calling-the-place-hourly-psycho-where's-my-stuff-dude before it showed up.

And... it. Is. AWESOME!

It's an upgraded version of my already adequate Canon, and I am so excited to use it on the wedding I'm shooting later today (although, I'm taking old faithful along just in case things get tricky).

This is one of the first shots I took the day we (the Canon and I) met.



And, in case you were wondering... yes, he's a super hero, and he really can fly.

Here are a couple more just to make you fall in love, like I did (hate being the only one).




Have a happy weekend, and look for my MJ post on Monday (you know how I like to beat a dead horse, oh, that was bad. Pun totally NOT intended).

(Baby) Pool Partying

They LOVE this thing!

Best part... I only put like two inches of water in it.

Call me lazy, but it takes forever to bucket fill the thing and it weighs like 5000 pounds when it's full of water, so we stick with two inches, two and a half, tops.

But, seriously, it's all they need because they all squeeze into that pool (along with friends even) and splish, and splash for at least 45 minutes.

It's a bliss filled 45 minutes for me as I sit there and peruse my BHG and generally watch that no one drowns, or gets concussed (they get a little rowdy at times).

Hopefully, I'll win a huge canvas print of this shot from UPrinting (you know, UPrinting.com is a leading online provider of business cards, color brochures and mailing postcards.) and I'll be able to have some much needed decor for my largely bare walls.



Wish me luck:)

And, as you all know, we lost a great entertainer yesterday and the news touched me in an unexpected way (guess this is my emotional week, not sure what was up with the waterworks). So, enjoy the link to my dudes' favorite track if you are missing Michael as much as I am.

Edumacations

So, Mamakat suggested we talk about interviews or jobs or something like that. And, since I do everything Mamakat says, I decided I'd oblige.

Besides, this ties in perfectly to my Thank You Thursday for the week, so yeah.

Actually, the two are only vaguely related, but you know, nothing like a good stretch:)

An interview?

Well, I haven't been on an interview for a job in a while (the note should adequately explain why).

I'd say my most memorable interview was when I was applying to graduate school (yes, believe it, you can be dumb and educated simultaneously, look at George Bush).

So, I got myself all dressed up in my bestes, most conservative, but still stylish and trendy suit. Drove myself up to the University of Maryland, College Park (go TERPS!) campus, and coolly (okay, was shaking like a leaf, 'cause I have a wee bit of social anxiety) went to greet the professor who was interviewing me.

Go to sit down in the chair directly across from her desk (where she was incidentally looking very prestigious and smart and stuff), and I somehow proceeded to get my foot caught in the strap of my purse, which was also caught on my chair.

Not sure of the exact course of events from there, but I know both myself and the chair wound up laying on our backs with our legs in the air.

Idiot!

The rest of the interview was a blur featuring me red faced and flustered, on the brink of tears as my unrealized dreams of furthering my education flashed before my eyes.

Pretty sure she just let me in out of pity.

She always did seem highly surprised when I gave insightful comments in class.

Go ahead, you can laugh, my skin is thick and I've suffered numerous embarrassments of this nature (let's just say I'm not what you'd call sure footed).

Now, for my education and interview related Thank You Note.

Incidentally, today's note card is brought to you by our friends over at Target. No, they did not send them to me, I bought them because I have not received any cards from all of the whimsical, cute boutiques I have visited lately and begged for cards from. Not sure what's up with that (hint!hint!).

This card, inspired by my recent experiences at a local park, is meant to serve as a helpful guide to daycare centers everywhere when seeking new hires. Something must be done.

Thank you, and you're welcome.




Card reads: Dear Local Daycare Center, Thank you for reassuring me that giving up my lucrative career to become a SAHM was the right choice. Recent events I witnessed while your group was at a local park on a field trip should frighten you as much as they do me. You may want to reevaluate your hiring policies ASAP. First, I urge you to seek employees with a good command of the English language and, despite what you may have heard, Ebonics is. Not. English. Second, all prospective hires should be addiction free. That includes excessive texting and/or iPod usage. Meaning, while supervising kids at the park, they need to WATCH THEM, not the screen of their favorite electronic device. And, finally, a dress code may be in order. If an applicant shows up to the interview in a mini and a halter top, you may want to go a different direction. Thanks for the help with this manner, you may give away my boys' spots for fall. XOXO, Dumb Mom

Looks Healthy, Right?

That's what my doctor basically told me when I took #3 to see her (and then him, and then her again, and then to another her) about the full body rash, the constant runny nose, and the persistent diarrhea we have been experiencing since my little dude was 10 months old.

She (and her co-conspirators) informed me that he maybe could possibly have some sort of a food sensitivity, but it's probably just that he's sensitive.

Sensitive? Sensitive to what? Of course he's sensitive, he's a frickin' one year old, they're all sensitive.

And, besides, sensitivity runs in the family. I've been known to get pretty easily chocked up over seemingly minor occurrences.

But, a sad bit in a movie, or an errant thoughtless comment has never caused me to break out in hives or lose total control of my bowels.

#3, as you may know, is a full fledged crap fest. He always has a dirty diaper, is about to dirty his diaper, or just got out of a dirty diaper.

This is the reason I abandoned my desire to cloth diaper. I couldn't imagine spending day after day (more like hour after hour) changing soaked through cloth crap pants (but I'm open for suggestions on this so that I may get into cloth diapering for the remainder of his unpotty trained life).

He is a walking, mostly-talking-but-usually-only-I-understand-him, dirty diaper.

The kid is a fecal nightmare and he has been since November, 2008 when he endured 17 straight days of runny, stinky, seriously-are-you-kidding-me-with-this-sh*t diarrhea.

His butt was riddled with open sores. They were so intense that we couldn't use wipes (or even a soft cotton cloth) to clean his rump.

He had to be bathed.

Every time he dropped a dewey, I had to run a tub full of warmish water (with mild soap) and let him soak in it.

That meant that he was averaging about 6-8 baths per day.

We got so sick of filling up the bath to soak our otherwise clean baby that we started using the sink in the boys' bathroom (which we marked off with police tape to prevent transmission in the unlikely event that this sh*t was viral).

Our savior finally arrived in a costly ($32 after insurance) jar of custom made (as in had to call three pharmacies and wait two days the first time) prescription diaper cream that we have since had to order 2 additional times.

Sadly, the child's butt still bears the scars; along with the "sensitive" area that will ignite from time to time and reopen in the event of a particularly bad day of dookie.

Obviously, during this time, despite the fact that he was characteristically happy and ravenous (was putting it in as fast as it was coming out), we took him to the pediatrician numerous times, they took countless stool samples (any idea how hard it is to collect a stool sample from a diarrhea diaper?), and even sent us for a visit with a gastroenterologist at Children's Hosptial in D.C. (verdict: unexplained toddler diarrhea).

Add to the irritable bowels the fact that he began to develop a strange rash, concentrated primarily to his hands and feet.

At first we thought, hand, foot, and mouth (aka Coxsackie disease), even though the mouth was not involved.

OK. Maybe the whole thing is a strange reaction to this virus.

But, we've effectively ruled that out since he has had flare ups of the rash 2 or 3 times per week since November, and now it is beginning to involve much more than hands and feet. It has spread across his back, torso, and inner thighs as well.

Again, countless trips to the pediatrician have resulted in a unacceptable diagnosis: viral sensitivity.

Does he have a virus? Has he had one recently?

Possibly (but I doubt it), because since November he has also had 4 ear infections, bronchitis, and a perpetual(as in all day every day for 4 months straight) runny nose that has affectionately earned him the moniker: My booger baby.

I am so exhausted from fighting with our medical professionals (who know everything, right?) over finding a solution for my little dude.

My Internet searches have been largely unhelpful.

So, my highly trained blog reading moms, any insight?

My feelings are that he has some sort of allergy to something in his environment (food, pollen, dust, air, me) that is causing a reaction and I'd like them to test him for it.

Their feelings are that he has a "sensitivity" to something (unclear what, possibly viruses) and I should give him Benadryl three times per day to prevent symptoms.

I am not happy with this for a number of reasons.

1. I'm a treat the problem instead of masking it kinda chick. If I know what I'm dealing with I can work to stop it at the source instead of treating the symptoms as the arise.

2. Benadryl, while handy for those cross-country-need-my-kid-to-sleep-to-prevent-being-stoned-by-fellow-passengers plane rides, is not a way of life. I give it to him, it knocks him out, and he can't think or learn or enjoy his family for the rest of the day.

3. Having diarrhea, itchy hands and feet, and a runny nose (which also causes a sore upper lip, and general ostracizing by local moms of toddlers) SUCKS. If I had to crap myself at work, rip my skin off from itching, or meet people with the face of a Garbage Pail Kid, I would be adamant about finding a solution. Just because he doesn't complain, doesn't mean he's not in pain. Or, at least feeling discomfort.

Really, I just don't know what to do.

It pains me to think that there is something that could be done to help my little guy, and I can't get anyone to realize that he has a problem. They all seem to dismiss us with a causal, "Ahh, it's nothing serious (Oh? How do you know, because he's not dead?)." I can discern that it's probably nothing serious (he's happy, growing, and otherwise healthy) even without 11 years of schooling. But that is hardly the issue. If he were an adult he wouldn't be expected to just deal with it, grow out of it, or ignore it.

I doubt any of my readers are doctors, but if you happen to know one, aspire to be one, or used to be one in a former life, please feel free to weigh in on this situation. I guess there is a remote possibility I'm overreacting.

I could certainly use some objective opinions:)

Love/Hate Relationships

I am a consumer.

I buy things almost everyday. Call me superficial if you must, but I have needs.

And, by needs I mean daily use things like toothpaste, facial soap, food, and handbags.

From time to time I get products I LOVE. And, occasionally I get stuck with some bull crap I can't stand.

As it's the beginning of summer, the dudes and I are doing a lot of consuming (purchasing summer products); some of them are great, some of them, not so much.

Why, don't I share?

Oh, I thought you'd never ask!

Summery Things I (currently) Love:

1. all laundry detergent. On the occasions that I am so inclined to do laundry (which, regrettably is at an all time high during summer months) I use ONLY all. I don't have a great deal of laundry related knowledge, but I do know a few things about this stuff. One, they sell it at Costco, which means you can get a whole crap load of it, for am unbelievably low price. And, I need a crap load of it, 'cause when I do finally get around to washing, these kids seriously dirty a TON of clothes. It's borderline embarrassing. Two, it smells delicious. All fresh and clean and pleasant like. It expertly masks that boy scent that I can't seem to wash out of their skin or their hair for the life of me. I'm desperately frightened of puberty. I'm pretty sure I don't enjoy the smell of testosterone laced teen spirit. Three, no one is allergic to it, which if you could see #1's sunscreen induced facial rash right now, you'd know how important this point is. I use the Small and Mighty version and even it, in its highly concentrated state, is free and clear of perfumes and dyes that would irritate sensitive skin. Do you really need more than 3 reasons? How about first person to comment and send me an email with their address gets a coupon for a free full sized bottle of it?

2. Suave. Yes, I am obsessed with personal hygiene at the moment. Summer does that to me because I have a SERIOUS problem with sweating. I used to think it was because of my weight, now, since I've lost some, I'm pretty sure that it's some nasty little hormonal issue. Regardless, I like to be cleanly, and Suave is doing it for me right now. I like the Apricot Exfoliating body wash the best. I'm a fan of body washes that have what my dudes like to call "sand" in them to scrub all the dead and dirty off. Plus, this one smells SO good. Best part: it's inexpensive! Suave also has some pretty impressive moisturizers, and I'm an expert on this because I am waging a constant battle against ashy knees and elbows. They are like the bane of my existence, particularly during the summer. And, you might want to check out Suave's Shower Yourself Beautiful campaign page where you can enjoy cool tips about staying beautiful and enter to win some REALLY cool prizes.

3. Spray on sun screen. I know I said #1 has a wicked little rash creeping all over his face, but that is because I (foolishly) switched from the generic Target brand to the fancy, schmansy Banana Boat Baby million SPF brand; my bad. So, back to the Target-works-fine-costs-less-no-creepy-rash-causing brand for #1. Thankfully, the rash doesn't bother him at all, but looking at it bothers me.

And, now for the good part.

Summery Things I (currently) Love to Hate:

1. Banana Boat Baby SPF 50 continuous spray sunscreen. See above.

2. Deer. Yes, I did just through out some seemingly harmless wild animal hate, but in my defense, these huge bastards creatures have almost been the death of my 3 times this week. It's only because I actually love animals (and my car) that they are such a problem. I'd hate to actually hit one. So, when I come around a curve (possibly driving slightly too fast for that particular curve, but I tend to think speed limits are open for interpretation), and one of those monsters is standing smack dab in the middle of the road (why, I'm not sure b/c don't they eat grass, not pavement) I swerve to avoid them. Dangerous, right?! And, it's not just in my car that they cause me trouble. Lately, they have been all over my neighborhood (please don't explain to me why, I get it, humans are overtaking their territory; got it). Came home the other day and there was one standing in. My. Driveway. I'm pretty sure it rolled it's cooky looking bubble eyes at me before sauntering (bold, 'cause I could easily be a gun toting hunter) out of the way so I could pull in. I used to enjoy their furry, docile, cuteness. But, up close and personal, they ain't all that cute. They have flies swarming all over them, and their crap is all over the yard. Not cute. Plus, tons of my neighbors have been diagnosed with Lyme disease because of those sick mongrels. Disgusting. Now I'm all paranoid about going outside too.

3. iTunes. I know this one is not summer related per se, but I do tend to up my music downloading in summer because I start working out more (yes, I'm a wuss when it comes to cold weather), which means I need some tunes. So, here's my beef with iTunes. If, I'm going to spend my hard earned 99 cents (or $1.29 which I am categorically opposed to) on a music download when I easily could have gotten a "friend" to "acquire" it for me without cost (don't ask), then it better not have that obnoxious radio voice in the background explaining to me how lucky I am to get hit in the head with the worldwide exclusive. Yes, I downloaded a song for my listening pleasure, and it sounds as effed up as any stolen copy you could have gotten from one of those nefarious file sharing sites. Oh, and I know it's a Cash Money Production (feel free to question my taste in music, even I do at times), so I don't need to hear a cash register ringing me up every 15 seconds throughout the ENTIRE song. I will be constructing a letter of complaint forthwith.

I'll stop for today. But, I consider this list of things I love to hate a pretty fluid summary that changes daily, often hourly, so be prepared for a continuation.

P.S. Sorry if you were looking for a Bachelorette recap today. I live in the DC Metro area and due to the recent tragedy, the show was preempted. But, you can check out Mamakat, maybe she can help you out:)!

Photo of the Day

Actually, it's of yesterday.

But, since I felt it captured a rare special moment between #3 and dad (since #3 is like an electron, in constant motion around the nucleus (aka me). See, I know stuff!), I had to share.

Hope you had a special one:).

And, if you're interested in a couple of parenting books, see post from earlier today below.

And, if you're interested in reading a guest post I wrote on another cool mom's blog, click here.

And, don't forget to check me out over here, too:).

I'm SO good at shameless self promotion!

Moms Like Books Too

From time to time I get books in the mail.

Recently, I received a couple of books that have to do with effective parenting strategies.

Not sure if I should be insulted, but you know, I'm not.

I realize(and so do others, apparently) that I could stand to make some, um adjustments, let's say, in the way I parent.

Everyone has a skill, mine may not be parenting per se; it may be discussing parenting, for example.

So in an effort to improve in the area of child rearing (as it's my main job, I might as well be good at it), I actually read the books (or at least large portions of them).

I will share with you what I have learned.

The Momnificent Life: Healthy and Balanced Living for Busy Moms, by Lori Radun.

When I saw this one, I have to admit, I was not enthused.



The title was one of those play on words thingys that put me off sometimes, and overall I was a bit leery.

I flipped through it briefly.

I complained about having to read it (because do I look like I have time to read?).

I ignored it, I avoided it, I hid it from myself and others.

But...my someone-took-the-time-to-send-you-this-you-have-to-give-it-a-chance guilt ultimately kicked in(like it always does, damnation), and I read it.

And, honestly, the book didn't suck.

Go figure.

I would categorize this as an all encompassing guide to doing everything a little bit better.

The book has a wide breadth; it covers every womanly thing from spirituality to career issues. It discusses your concerns about your health, your finances, and of course, your family.

The chapter I found the most useful was the one that discussed how to "Zap the Mommy Guilt", because (as you can maybe tell from above) I'm riddled with it. I enjoyed the useful tips that I could realistically incorporate into my life that would help me better myself, and thereby have less to feel guilty about. Most importantly, Radun discusses how to apologize when you make a mistake, which is an invaluable tool for someone who spends a disproportionate amount of time making them.

Overall, I'd say the Momnificent Life is a positive, inspirational read that works to get you started on a path to greatness, or at least to general mental/emotional/physical satisfaction.

If you're looking for an easy to follow guide to awesomeness, check it out, it will get you started.

The second book I recently received is, The Triumphant Child: A practical guide to raising two, three, and four year olds.

I knew this book would be so for me because when it arrived #3 pointed to the cover child clad in his super hero garb and started saying #2's name over and over and over again. He thought it was a photo of his brother!

I was slightly put off by the title, because I thought, "#2 is already Triumphant. Why would I want him to triumph any more? He always wins. I want to win. I need a book called the Triumphant Mother: A Practical Guide to Beating Two, Three, and Four Year Olds into Submission."

Kidding! I would never beat a two year old.

I realized that having a triumphant child is akin to being a triumphant parent (go figure). Basically, when your child is able to experience success in challenging situations and overcome various difficulties, you (and your kid) will be able to live a more fulfilling, joyful, and triumphant life.

I'm down for that! I could definitely stand to up my triumph.

Any book that can help me deal with picky eating (a documented problem), lying (a newly developed issue), sibling rivalry (the reason I avoid long stretches of "family time"), and anger (have you not noticed #2's temper) is a hit in my house.

The book even discusses more touchy subjects (you know, the ones I avoid at all costs) like death, fear, and anxiety.

It's a good read for anyone entering the terrible twos, particularly if you are scarred out of your mind about your ability to cope with them (and when I say cope, I really mean survive).

So, there you have it: proof that while I may be dumb, at least I'm literate:).

Want to read a copy yourself?

First to email me your mailing address(parentingbydummies[at]gmail[dot]com), will get a free one in the mail; shipping's on me:)

Photo of the (Father's) Day

Although he appears quite infrequently on the blog, there really is a man in our lives.



You can call him Dumb Dad (even though he's pretty smart; at least smarter than Dumb Mom).



We (generally) like to call him Daddy.



We love him lots because he's funny, and supportive, and "not scared of lots of stuffs."



We will hug him at least three times each today.

You should hug yours too.

Digital Dictionary

This Digital Dictionary is a work in progress.

I am developing it to help old people like myself stay ahead of the curve when it comes to online social networking.

Hopefully this helps:)

MySpacing.
-verb

1. Kickin' it on the Internet's equivalent to Compton. Not that Compton does not provide a plethora of multicultural experiences, it just sorta has a "reputation" thanks to various gangsta rappers of the mid to late 90s. My Space has earned its self a similar hood rep. Any place where this is okay, sorta deserves to be referred to as the Internet's ghetto.

2. Using MySpace, the social networking website, like a busy street corner wherein you engage in trashy talk with various, possibly questionable, individuals.

Sentence: Hey, man, I was so bored last night that I was Myspacing girls for like three hours.

Facebooking
-verb

1. Connecting with old friends from high school and college on an online social networking site that should go back to the days when you needed a college email address to log on (I know, I'm old) since it has recently been discovered by various My Space elite. Facebooking people you haven't spoken to in years just so that you may determine whether or not they got fat is a common practice.

Sentence: I was gonna MySpace her, but I couldn't find her so I had to Facebook her instead.

Blogging.
-verb

1. Building a web page in which you share useless, random, or generally inappropriate aspects of your daily life with people who don't know you but think they do b/c they read your archives. Divulging the most intimate details of your life (last time you had sex, the fact that your baby may not be your husband's, and that you haven't had a bowel movement in three days) is common, and even acceptable blogging practice.

2. Building a web page in which you share funny stories, anecdotes, and/or events from your day to day life for personal pleasure with the hope that others will be at least slightly amused (and possibly highly entertained) by your writing.

Sentence: I'm so glad I started blogging because I have made so many cool "friends".

Tweeting.
-verb

1. A mini version of blogging wherein you use catchy one liners to garner interest in you and/or your blog from random people and celebrities. Tweeting allows you to blog on the run using 140 characters or less.

2. An annoying, although surprisingly effective, method of advertising used quite profusely by sellers of porn. (Side note: Seriously, I am literally going to cut my eyes out if I have to look at the Britney F*^%$ed message from user XJ87FKI#E one more time. I block it like everyday. What about me makes Random Porn Promoter think I would be interested in Britney getting f*^%$ed? It's a forgone conclusion anyway, is it not?)

Sentence: I Tweeted Soleil Moon Frye (@moonfrye) last night about the funniest movie, but she didn't respond. WTF?


Poking.
-verb

1. A lazy way of greeting someone that allows you to inform them that you are thinking of them without actually having to type out a message informing them of such. Basically, you are saying, "The thought of you kinda, sorta crossed my mind, briefly, and I almost decided to ask you how you are doing and what you've been up to, but then I realized I really don't even care." (Side note: I never have been a fan of poking. It hurts and it's annoying, and even when the person is trying to be all cute and funny about it, it pisses me off. It's the same via the Internet. Getting poked just makes me annoyed. If you really cared, you'd send a text.)

Sentence: I poked four people on Facebook, and no one poked me back (maybe b/c you are an annoying loser, just a thought). WTF?

Tagging.
-verb

1. Attaching a keyword to your digital information that allows it to be found again while searching. This is the formal (aka boring) form of tagging that we are all familiar with.

2. Using spray paint to mark a building with graffiti. This definition has nothing to do with the digital realm, so forget I even brought it up.

3. Sending an obnoxiously long questionnaire about random, useless, largely uninteresting facts to a "friend" so that they may waste a ridiculous amount of time completing said questionnaire, and then subsequently pass it on to another unsuspecting "friend" to complete. It's a never ending cycle of ugly. (Side note: And, in my expert opinion, the reason you don't know any of the things in the "100 Things You Don't Know About _________," questionnaire is that YOU DON'T CARE! None of the stuff people include is usually even remotely interesting or worth knowing. You shoulda just poked her instead and saved everyone valuable time.)

Sentence: If you are considering tagging me with a questionnaire on Facebook, please, do me a favor and just don't.

Feel free to add more...

You can tweet me about them (@thenagainphoto).

And for fun... Tweet of the week.
@Diane Birch why does the tap water in Brooklyn look like milk? Great question.

5K

Would be AWESOME!

Because then I could donate it to the Save-a-Mom Charity of which I am the sole benefactor. Or I could just hire quality service people to take care of all the crap around the house the Hubby and I are too lazy, too tired, or too unskilled to tend to.

For example, someone really needs to come clean this place up (too lazy, too tired, & too unskilled). And, we could seriously use a lawn service to straighten out this landscaping "situation" we've developed (simple lack of skill on Hubby's part, of course). And, last but not least, a little assistance in the child watching department (let's call this one too tired, although it could possibly fall under all listed categories) would also be nice.

While my financial capability to acquire experts in the above categories is virtually nonexistent, there are some things I prefer not to do without.

Like, pest control.

In my opinion, a home should be pest free at all costs, and I believe this to be nonnegotiable.

It's like satellite TV; I can not live without it.

So, when the tiny bastards ants began to invade my home earlier this spring I dialed up a national pest control service I'm sure everyone has heard of to send one of their technicians out ASAP.

He came (way to early). He saw (way more than he bargained for). And, he conquered (actually, he didn't).

Here is my thank you note to him.

Also, before I forget, please go over to My Mimi Pie whose owner (Erika B.) supplied me with the most beautiful stationary. So, CUTE (as you can see), and she has some perfect princessy designs if you happen to have someone who is into that at your house:).

Thank you, and you're welcome.




Card reads: Dear Pest Control Person, Thank you for showing up at my home an hour before our scheduled appointment. I hope I didn't scare you with my uncombed hair, my unbrushed teeth, and my unclothed body; my bad. Also, I realize that you were called out primarily to treat an ant problem, but I think snakes also qualify as "pests" so not sure why you were running from my yard screaming like a school girl. Oh, and for the record, the ants are actually NOT dead yet, so looks like we're gonna need to reschedule. For an AFTERNOON appointment. XOXO, Dumb Mom

Thanks again Mama Kat for the weekly inspiration! And, if I was really gonna donate money to a charity it would definitely be the National Kidney Foundation.

I'm on a Roll

I know the month isn't quite over yet, but might as well post this now before the list gets outta hand

10 Dumb Things I Did this Month

1. Forgot #3's shoes when we went to the park. When we arrived I considered letting him run around with just one shoe (b/c somehow there was one in the car). I thought I could pretend that he had lost it at the park. But, then my mommy conscious (damn that thing) kicked in, and off to Kmart (quite possibly the worst store on the planet) we went.

2. To remedy the above, I purchased a pair of Spiderman adorned water shoes. Why water shoes, you ask? Because #3 has two pairs of sneakers, a pair of leather sandals, and a pair of casual sandals. Basically, he doesn't need shoes. So, water shoes it was; never mind that water shoes aren't exactly appropriate for park play.

3. Spent the better part of an hour chasing behind one-shoed #3 while waving a cast off water shoe in the air. Well played, #3. Well played.

4. Decided to change diaper bags (note: I use that term loosely to refer to huge purse that has a ton of crap in it, including diapers, wipes, and child friendly snacks). So, very proud of the $4 Target purse that was huge and cute and sturdy. Sadly, upon arriving to the park for a play, I realized that I had forgotten the key ingredient that turns the bag from a purse into a diaper bag. You know. The frickin' diapers! #3 pleasured us all by droppin' a dewey about 30 minutes after our arrival. Perfectly timed as always because it was too much time to let his sensitive heiney stew in it, but too little time to allow for me to run to the store, purchase supplies, and still make it back to #2's preschool in time to avoid being fined, ridiculed, and embarrassed. #3 received his first lesson in free ballin'. I think he quite enjoyed it.

5. Forgot to reset the TiVo after some stupid software download deleted all of my season passes. Yes, I missed the Bachelorette, So You Think You Can Dance, NJ Housewives; every single show that keeps me sane.

6. Drove #1 75% of the way to karate. Glanced in the rear view mirror and noted that the silly boy was wearing shin guards to hi... Drat! Abort! Abort! You are going the wrong way, Dummy! Luckily my lead foot prevented him from being late, but this is ridiculous. What was that, like the third time?

7. Engaged #2 in a battle of wills. He wanted to have macaroni and cheese, tater tots, and mashed potatoes for dinner (a starch lover after my own heart). I said, "No, Sir!". He sat (fidgety, but in chair), until I could wait no more, or risk #1 being late for soccer (or, was it karate?). Tater tots and macaroni, but absolutely no mashed potatoes.

8. Told a joke to some little girls at a photo shoot. I am funny, but I do not do jokes. Parents gave me a sympathy laugh that I'm pretty sure made me feel even worse and more awkward.

9. Tried my hand at some sort of weight loss supplement BFF recommended to me. It works! But, anything that gives you a deadly case of the mud butt, is probably also going to ruin your appetite and destroy any inclination you have to eat, thereby causing you to lose weight. What a handy little side effect.

10. Spent one, single moment, crying, whining, and complaining about my lot in life. It has it's sucky moments, but I would not change it for the world (unless the world were made out of chocolate, and then I'd have to seriously consider it!)

And, almost forgot: Beth Parker from Crafts Crazy is our Monkey Thank You Giveaway Winner. Feel free to stop by and say congrats!

As Seen on TV

The people who make those loud talking, hard hitting, laced with subliminal messages, mini infomercials are geniuses.

They have totally hijacked #2's mind.

He can recite them with ease, including all of the catch phrases and theme songs.

You may argue that he watches too much TV.

I will argue that he does not.

Let's just agree to disagree on this one and I will share with you the virtues of a few products that he has almost sold me on.

Rocket Fishing
-This expertly designed gadget will allow you to catch fish with ease. You can catch "the most biggest fish." He informed me that it's "fishing fun for everyone." And we should get it because the "fish stay on the hook" and we can always "fish were the fish are." And, I see that this is totally different from all other fishing poles which makes it worth $34.95 plus shipping and handling! Yeah. Right.

Bendaroos
-He tells me these little miracle machines can "make just about anything." Honestly, I wasn't even sure what they are, but apparently they are some kind of "Magic Wax Super String," which is still a little vague and confusing. No matter because he wants them so that he can make me "a pretend mustache and a paper plate mask to hide [my] face." Hope he's not trying to tell me something by making me a disguise.

Touch and Brush
-Now this product may actually be a good investment. Every house needs a hands free toothpaste dispenser since you never know when you are going to be dismembered and be left with only one arm to apply toothpaste with. He informed me that when I get my arm cut off I will be so happy to have Touch and Brush since it's so "easy to use." I'm really considering this because if I have to listen to him screaming because he dropped the paste in the toilet. Again. I am going to lose my mind.

I'm convinced that my boy has a future in direct selling.

Or, maybe he'll be the next Billy Mays.

As long as he's not that Slap Chop/Sham Wow, hooker beating guy, we're good;)

And, while we're on the subject of television programming, let's talk about the Bachelorette.

I know everyone doesn't watch it (not sure why), but I do, and I love it, so I'm gonna talk about it:).

First, I'm totally falling for Mike, break dancer extraordinaire. I guess that's because I'm not a sucker for the romantic Casanova. I'm a sucker for the sucker. You know, the silly, funny, happy-go-lucky guy who is cute because he's funny. Not because he's sexy. Not that sexy is all bad, because I'm also falling for Jesse, precisely because he is so frickin' hot and sexy.

Second, WTH was Ed thinking? I'm a hopeless romantic, too, but I can't see myself QUITTING MY JOB for a date. I'm not talking about for a wife, because they are so not at that stage yet (besides if you look @ past series, the show doesn't exactly have a good track record for happy ever afters); she's dating 10 dudes still. And, the guy is not a bartender or a break dancer, he's some kind of technology consultant. He would have been giving up a career for a chance to go on some more dates with some chick who is dating 9 other guys. Not smart, Ed. Not smart. Thank you for making a good choice.

Finally, no blog about the Bachelorette would be complete without doing a little Wes bashing. So glad we didn't have to listen to that wiggity wack song of his for the bazillionth time. I know he thinks being on the show is promoting his music, but all it's doing for me is ensuring that I won't buy it. He has officially been promoted to position of biggest reality show d-bag of the summer. He might want to have a discussion with his PR people.

Say goodbye to my little friends

While I fully support the Constitutional right to bear arms, particularly for a young dude, I can no longer allow such weapons as these in my home.

Well, they will remain in my home, but are being hidden away for a period of time that has yet to be determined.

It's just not safe anymore.

#3 is dangerous with these things.

Pain is his business and business is good! (Major Payne was hilarious, no?)

He spends a great deal of time walking around, sword in hand, and he finds it hilarious when his sword accidentally", on purpose, encounters a living creature (aka his unsuspecting family members).

I can hardly blame him because it is quite amusing to watch Hubby collapse in pain when his jewels are assaulted by #3's blunt, but surprisingly painful, instrument.

And, the yelping that ensues after #1 is knifed in the back is probably as entertaining to #3 as it is to me.

But, I can not stand by any longer while my children are mollywopped and pistol whipped by their ruffian of a baby brother.

So, until the small one can be trusted, all weapons will have to be confiscated.

It's a sad day in hero land.


Looking for my AWESOME, monkey inspired giveaway? Click here:)

Photo of the Day

This is actually a "vintage" photo of the day.

It's really Photo of a Year Ago toDay.

#3, before he could walk and talk and wreak havoc on innocent bystanders.

Wow, I miss that kid:)

Toys Dumb Parents Should Avoid, Part Deux

Here for the free monkey? Go here!

Decided to post the second half of the post from last Friday since people were so curious about where I went with this. Basically, it's stuff like these smart a** toys that earned my title as Dumb Mom.

So, in honor of Scary Mommy's Flashback Fridays, please enjoy Toys Dumb Parent's Should Avoid, Part Deux.


Here is the second installment of the embarrassingly long list of toys NOT to buy for your children, lest you look like a bona fide dolt in their quick-to-judge presence.

3. Transformers. More than meets the eye would be an understatement. I'm convinced that there is not a transformer on this planet that I can conqueror. And this would include all Autobots, Decepticons, and even the crappy little posers that McDonald's and Burger King (and other establishments of this nature) give out specifically to torture parents like me.

4. Slip 'N Slide. This one is appropriate since summer is quickly approaching. It looks fun on the box, but it is a trip to the ER waiting to happen. For whatever reason when the Slip 'N Slide comes out, all adults in the vicinity are overcome by nostalgia and get an overwhelming, misguided, urge to "show 'em how it's done." Sadly, your 30 plus years on the planet have not afforded you a firm grasp on reality if you think that you hurtling yourself down a wet, micro thin strip of banana yellow plastic is actually going to turn out good; particularly good enough to be emulated by those who consider you a roll model. Even more sad is that you think you'll be able to even run fast enough to get up the speed to accomplish the task of getting from one end to the other of the brightly colored death trap. If advanced age and lack of speed and agility are not deterrent enough, let's discuss the technique employed by the dummy (aka me) who put the contraption together. For various reasons (baby licking dog's tongue, toddler showing us he really can swim) I am always in a hurry when it comes time to erect things, which means I may (or may not) briefly glance at any included directions before starting in on the project. In the case of the Slip 'N Slide, obviously I "know" what I'm doing. Unfortunately, I was unable to accomplish the seemingly simple task of attaching it appropriately to the ground which caused a large amount of body hindering bunching. And, for some reason we (I mean I) could not get it to be wet enough to allow even the small people to enjoy it. Basically, our day ended with #1 running away from the scene crying hysterically because "it burns, it really burns", and Mimi risking a hip fracture by attempting (unsuccessfully) to demonstrate proper Slip 'N Slide usage. After all of this I realize that it is clearly stated on the box that it is not intended for adult use. Apparently, it is not intended to be used by children of dumb parents either. Consider yourself warned.

5. Razor Scooters. For many of the same reasons that Slip 'N Slides should have a "don't use if dumb" sticker attached. Basically, all I'll add is that these are nothing like the scooters we grew up with. They require WAY more balance. Or, maybe I'm just WAY more fat and WAY less in control of my body. Whatever. You can get hurt if you are caught unaware. So, again, consider yourself warned.

I needed to revisit this post, because #2 almost convinced me to purchase another Slip N Slide when we were @ Kmart today. So glad I wen with the wading pool instead:)

With this Hand...

I have decided to revive a forgotten art form.

The hand written note.

It's almost gone, and (generally) completely forgotten.

But, I am seeking to bring back this handy form of expression.

Although it may not be as quick as email or as trendy as Twitter, taking the time to sit down, get out your favorite writing instrument and a beautifully adorned bit of stationary (this monkey themed one is from Target) to hand write a note, demonstrates your sincerity.

It shows that you were genuinely affected by the behavior, profoundly touched by the gesture, or passionately moved by the event.

Or, in my case it shows that you were so shocked and amazed by the audacity and outlandishness of the incident that you could think of nothing else to do but to say thank you.

Thank you for reminding me that people really are amazing.

Thank you for allowing me to marvel in the fact that some members of the human race really do suck.

And, thank you for, if nothing else, making me laugh (so I don't cry).

Welcome to Thursday Thank You, a service that was partially inspired by Mama Kat's Thursday Assignment (I picked the write a letter one this week), but mostly inspired by crazy.

Thank you and, you're welcome.


Your Friend,
Dumb Mom

(It reads: Dear General Contractor, Thank you for knocking on my door every evening this week just as I was sitting down to dinner with my family. I guess I was unclear when I informed you I was uninterested in $12,000 of replacement windows. Although painfully obvious that I need them, I am as yet unable to locate 12K in unmarked bills to pay you with. I would greatly appreciate if you would go back to harassing me via telephone; you are much easier to ignore if you are not standing on my porch. XOXO)

Come back next week for another heartfelt thank you.

And, don't forget to enter my giveaway here!

Thanks!

I recently got my 200th follower!

And, in the spirit of being appreciative I'm doing a giveaway!

We have monkeys on the brain around here so...

You could win one oddly happy, semi agreeable, 16 month old baby monkey who loves playing peek-a-boo and long walks! As pictured below.



Kidding! He's not a huge fan of long walks.

And, for the giveaway you might actually want to enter: two monkey related items for your keeping or regifting pleasure!

1. A Punky Munky t-shirt size 12-18mo from one of my most favoritest stores: Urban Baby Runway. You know, it's the same place I got this shirt:)

2. A set of monkey Crawler Covers from Fategoddess on Etsy. Everyone knows how much I LOVE Crawler Covers.

To enter you MUST:
1. Go to Urban Baby Runway and tell me what other item you like.
2. Leave a comment answering #1.

For Extra Entries:
1. Follow me! (+1)
2. Follow me on Twitter.(+2)
3. Share your favorite Etsy store with me (always looking to support the little people!). (+3)
4. Add me to your Blogroll.(+4)
5. Post this giveaway on your blog.(+5)

For each entry you complete, please leave a comment to this post.

Contest ends June 16th @ midnight, and the winner will be posted on the 17th.

Good Luck!

Disclaimer: Baby is not actually part of the giveaway. He is mine to keep and I'm not sharing:)

Wordful Wednesday: Duck, Duck, No Goose

The animal kingdom gives you incredible insight into the human world.

Went to the park the other day, and encountered this busy little lady...



Funny that all the other ducks were lounging around on the beach, napping, swimming, sunbathing, you know, fun stuff.

She was running around behind her little brood like a crazy person duck.

Lots of honking, quacking, and feather ruffling.

Pushing, nudging, and corralling.

She never took a moment to nap, or fish, or catch some rays.

Even when those people who blatantly ignore the "Don't Feed the Ducks" signs started with their old bread throwing, she avoided the fray like the plague.

But, you know she wanted some bread.

Just like, I wanted to head over to Starbucks that morning.

But, in order to avoid the line, and the wait, and the calories, and the kid knocking over the towering display of reusable coffee cups, we went to the park for a walk, and a swing instead.

And we met our duck family and realized that there is no rest for the pushed-to-the-limit-can-I-get-a-snack-mom-of-many weary.

While dad duck is off doing his own thing (in this case, possibly checking out some tail feathers), mom is holding down the perpetually moving, never tiring, curious as can be, fort.



Fun, but exhausting, you know?

Photo of the Day & Those Darn Bachelors

We spent our weekend at the end of season soccer tournaments for #1 & #2.

This was the the best pic from the event.

Someone really had to go potty.

Just happy that this one time, it wasn't my kid announcing intimate details regarding body waste removal to the world.

'Cause honestly, this season, I spent as much time at the Slum Dog Millionaire outhouses as I did on the pitch.

And the Bachelors...

First, I am so in love w/that cute breakdancing-is-awesome-but-totally-not-a-real-job guy.

He's not for her; he would not make a good fiance for her (or anyone, at this point in his 25 year old life).

But, he's so cute and hilarious, and not just because I'm a horny, desperate housewife, cougar. Because I'm not.

Second, Jillian (as I've mentioned before) does not mind swappin' spit with the dudes. I'm pretty sure that, if you don't get slobbed down on your first one-on-one time with her, then you are NOT gonna get a rose. It's as simple as that.

Not saying she's a little freak or anything, but she definitely enjoys a little tongue.

Third, Jesse is hot.

Fourth, what was up w/that rose ceremony? It's crap like that that makes me think the show is a joke. When, in real life, is it ever cool to have a friend (aka Chris Harrison) stand there and grill your boyfriend (or boyfriendS) about other women?

Guys would not be okay with that.

Or, when is it ever even remotely okay to bring up a guy's official "status" on the like second date?

And, is it EVER okay to cry and get all emotional and snarky like that with the dude you are casually dating?

Real life, guy would "lose" your number, and tell his friends you are psycho.

Bachelorette life, they like you even more. What-Ever.

Fifth, what was up with Dave? He was seriously like some kinda ridiculously inappropriate, drunk, trucker (wait he really is a trucker, right) who enjoyed the taste of shoe leather because he spent SOOOO much time with his big, stupid steel toed boot in his mouth. And, normally I'm kinda into that (the inappropriate part; you know how I feel about swagger), but he was way beyond the normal, sexy amount of swagger, to the full blown wife beating, bare-foot-and-pregnant amount of swagger.

Not cool.

Finally. Juan was a bonafide d-bag. Can. Not. Take. That dude. He really is the exact opposite of Dave. So glad I won't have to put up with his simpy attitude anymore.

Can't wait till next week.

Predict she will cry at least 4 times.

To party? Or, not to party?

That is the question.

Not that I don't like to party, because I totally do.

And, I even love to host parties (I like being appreciated and recognized as awesome).

But, Hubby does not.

Every time I suggest that we consider possibly thinking about maybe hosting a little get together for a birthday or a holiday he huffs and puffs and attempts to blow the house down, thereby rendering it unsuitable for party hosting.

I'm not sure what his beef is with parties exactly.

Obviously I do all of the planning, prepping, and general hosting of the party (you know, so all the glory is mine).

All he's required to do is smile, talk to his friends, and drink beer.

Is that hard?

So, I recently proposed that we host the 4th of July festivities at our place.

I even suggested we do a potluck type deal (totally against every fiber of my being since then others would be entitled to some of my much awaited glory) to reduce food cost.

But, with money saved, suggested we get one of those moon bounce thingys for the kids (and for me and BFF before and after the party) that you can get from Silicon Valley Party Rentals. They deliver it, set it up, and do all the work, so how hard can it be?

So, even though he hasn't totally agreed to this shin dig (he will, I know he will), I decided to check out my other options for backyard inflatable entertainment, and you would not believe some of the awesomeness you can have blown up these days.

I mean, let's forget about the rugrats for a moment. We can get a mechanical bull!

A MECHANICAL BULL!

Antelope Valley Party Rentals has this gem for your backyard bucking party pleasure.

But, of course, he is categorically opposed to the inflatables. Something about not wanting to witness BFF & me jumping around in a drunken stupor and possibly breaking some kid's arm.

Okay Officer Killjoy, then what about black jack, craps, or poker tables?

We could get one from Northern California Party Rentals and then we could recoup the cost of having our friends around.

Oh? Is that against the law? Oh well, maybe we'll use "pretend" money.

Or, maybe we'll go with the monster slide.

It looks so freakin' FUN! Although, I'm not sure it will even fit in my yard.

What-Ever, Hubby, you better get on board because this is SO happening (if you agree, so say yes, okay? Please?)!

(Someone please tell me why we don't have this place in Maryland; just discovered you can only get these if you live in CA, Reno or Las Vegas,NV! For some reason when they said "we deliver" I thought they meant everywhere. Idiot! Well, that blows; Maryland doesn't have any fun stuff. Guess I'll have to try this place instead.)

Photo of the Day

Two today.



If I folded the laundry, where would he lay?

Exactly.

So it remains unfolded.

And, can you say WORK IT?!


Go 'head baby.

Shake what your mama gave you.

Show 'em whatcha workin' wit.

Okay, enough with the '90s hip hop quotes.

This just means he spends way too much time in front of the camera:)

Have a nice weekend!

Toys Dumb Parents Should Avoid Revisited

So Scary Mommy has this lovely little idea that I thought would be fun to participate in.

It's called Flashback Fridays and you re post some old post from the days when no one really read you blog except for your Mom and your BFF (still my main supporters).

I know it wasn't that long ago for me (only been blogging for like 6 months), but there was a time in the recent past when I had only 3 followers (mom, BFF, and BFF's mom), and NONE of my posts got comments.

It's much better now that people not related to me are actually reading what I write.

So here's what you all missed before I got famous, or should I say infamous:)

Originally posted 2/9/09

Let me first start this post by stating that the majority of these toys were given to our children as a gift. I know my strengths; technical savvy I am not. And, in my defense, the most hi-tech toy I had as a youth was the Barbie hot tub that you filled up with water and then manually pumped to create that sexy hot bubbly mood for Ken to get his mack on. Only so much can be expected of me. So, here's the list.

1. The Vtech Tote 'N Go Laptop Plus. The best thing about this toy is that when Daddy is on his Mac downloading music and looking at Funny or Die the boys like to pull up a chair alongside him and haphazardly press buttons that cause the thing to make various obnoxious sounds. The worst part is that, I am not well known for my organizational skills (so I can not locate the directions for the life of me) and my kids only give me about 30 seconds to "figure it out", I have not been able to successfully show them how to get past the menu screen. I'm sure plenty of you are thinking that I really am a dummy, and those of you that are are more than welcome to come over here and explain to a moody three year old who insists that he keep his hand on the mouse at all times how he selects the "racing game" (don't think there is one) while you are making breakfast, holding diarrhea baby, and paying your credit card bill online. Seriously, be my guest.

2. The EyeClops BioniCam. I mean really. This is the most advanced toy we have in our arsenal of "toys that make mommy sweat". A friend gave this to us b/c she thought that it would be "fun". Well, since she is like a molecular biologist or something of the like (obviously NOT dumb), of course it looked fun! I however, a former 4th grade teacher, do not find reading a novella to determine how a toy works any kind of fun. Time consuming, yes. Fun, not so much. In all fairness, the boys love this thing. Not for it's intended function which is as a microscope/magnifying glass/ photo thingy; but instead they use it as a spy tool/metal detector/ taser (Mimi loves cops!) type deal. They carry it around in their spy bag and use it on countless missions. So, basically this is a fun gift for boys if they, like my little dudes, have an active imagination that leaves you free to finish up the last ten minutes of the rose ceremony on last night's episode of the Bachelor.

To be continued, because frankly this list is embarrassingly long.

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Dear Brat on the Bus,

Please do not immediately take offense with regards to the introduction. I thought of using another B word that was a little more harsh, but changed my mind in an effort to take a less abrasive, more child friendly approach.

I am done with that.

So, listen up, Toots.

I heard you have some beef with my boy.

With his man-stache in particular.

Let me state, for the record, that he has no control over the fact that he has unintentionally grown into a 7 year old with a mustache.

His pre-prepubescent facial hair growth is disturbing enough to his young psyche, and he does not need a fast little hood rat like yourself pointing out his "difference".

He was self conscious about his 'stache before, but now you have made him downright paranoid.

He is seriously contemplating asking for a razor to commemorate his 8th birthday!

And, that is just not fair.

He should not be concerned about his appearance at such a young age.

And, honestly, the fact that he could quite possibly have a full blown porn 'stache by the start of middle school will probably be enough to cause hussies like yourself to flock to him in bulk.

Besides, have you seen him? I'd venture to say that he is probably already quite the little heartbreak in the U8 set.

So, seriously, RELAX! It's just a mustache (actually, it's more like a really prominent five o'clock shadow on his upper lip).

It's not like it's a beard. I could see how a beard might insight ridicule; 'cause, you know, beards are just creepy.

But, the mustache is sorta cute. Dare I say sexy, even (or at least it will be one day when he is like 25 or something).

Either way, your incessant questioning, and backhanded teasing has stolen a bit of my baby's innocence, and frankly, you had no right!

He has never once made mention of the fact that you are a little less than normal for weighing 125lbs in the fourth grade.

Nor has he ever brought up the fact that, your parents had better get their checkbooks ready because they are going to single handedly purchase a car for a local orthodontist's son.

You know why? It's not because those things aren't obvious (because, let me tell you, they totally are), it's because he is a sweet, good, kindhearted, 7 year old who has no interest in hurting other people's feelings (that's what I'm for).

He simply wants people to like him (and his man-stache) and he does not need little trixies like yourself embarrassing him.

He is a nice, honest person, and he didn't deserve this.

So, if announces aloud, "Overweight Lover in da house," the next time you step on the bus, please know that it required hours of extensive training by his vengeful mother to get him to toss out a comment that evil.

And, you totally deserve it.

Tell your mama to call me.