Obsessed

Nothing can ruin a perfectly good movie like having to watch it 42 times in 3 days.

My kid is obsessed with Frozen.  And the movie came out on DVD on Tuesday.  I have since watched the movie at least a dozen times.  I don't want you to think that we have been perched in front of the TV for 4 days because we haven't.  But any time that we are in the house the movie has to be playing.  She knows all the good parts and all the funny parts and all the songs.  She says the lines before the characters.  What is it with kids that they want to watch the same things over and over and over?  Why don't they ever get sick of anything?

From Disney.wiki

It isn't like this is the only thing she is like this about.  There have been songs, TV shows and books that have never lost their appeal no matter how many times she is subjected to them.  In fact it seems that the more she hears/watches/reads them the better they are to her.  I don't get it.  I don't like to watch the same episodes of a TV show repeatedly.  But she does.  There is one show that I DVR all the episodes for her.  There aren't that many so they are all repeats.  And she watches them continually.  That is when she isn't watching Frozen.

With Frozen she became obsessed when I took her to see it in the theaters.  Since then, between her father and her grandmothers she has a collection of Frozen toys and dolls.  She has a Frozen backpack for school and Frozen clothes.  She knows all the words to Let it Go, the song from the movie.  And I don't know how she knows all the words.  She has only heard the song a handful of times. That is, until she got the DVD. Now she knows all the words to ALL the songs.

I don't know how long this little Frozen spell will last.  I am hoping it dies out soon because I find myself humming the songs and getting them stuck in my head.  Then it will be on to the next big Disney thing.
   

Sick Kid, Broken Mirrors and Sparkles

Lila is sick again.  Last night we ended up taking her to Urgent Care because she had a fever of 103.5 that wouldn't go down with Tylenol.  Turns out she has Strep Throat.  And because I love my kid (don't tell anyone) and wanted to make sure she got her Motrin and antibiotics every 6 hours, I brought her to bed with me. 

There is a very simple reason why I NEVER let Lila sleep in bed with me.  Because although I LOVE the idea of her cuddled up next to me with her little head nestled in the crook of my arm, in reality she wakes me up every time she moves, talks in her sleep and physically assaults me throughout the night.  She literally slapped me in the face THREE TIMES.  IN THE FACE! 

So I am waiting for her to wake up and get the hell out of bed so that her father can watch her all day and I can go BACK to bed and get some sleep.  Which is a shame because it's damn near 70 degrees outside already and it's only 10 am. 

So to amuse you this morning, here is the Sunday Stealing you have all been waiting for.


Sunday Stealing: The Her Head Is Part Missing Meme

1. What is your most annoying habit?

Going online to check my bank balance (or some other really quick little thing) and coming away 4 hours later not knowing what the hell happened.

2. What habit would you change of your partner's?

(I added the apostrophe and it made MUCH more sense...)  All of them?

3. Horrors or Chick Flicks?

Porn?

4. What is the most outrageous thing you have done in the back row of the movies?

Fell asleep.  I saved all my outrageousness for basements and back seats.

5. When have you lied to get a job?

Never.  The Jedi mind trick has never failed me.

 

As you can imagine, that line works like a charm.

6. What one thing is on your list to do before you hit 30, 40, 50 or whatever significant birthday is next?

Convince everyone that I am their savior.  Then sit back and laugh as they formulate a world-dominating religion around me.

7. Classic or modern films and why?

Both because I am not a pretentious "film" asshole. 

8. If you were a vampire who would be the first person you would bite?

Myself if I sparkled. And I would spend the rest of eternity apologizing for being one of the douchy Twilight vampires.

 

 

I couldn't pick which one I liked better.

9. If you had the power to make one thing better, what would it be?

My poor sick kid.

10. What makes a great blog?

Honesty.  And pictures stolen from the Internet with witty captions.  Especially if someone is offended.

(This is what REALLY makes a great blog)

11. What was the inspiration that brought your blog to the blogosphere?

All you need to know is the name of my blog.  No one wanted to admit it and I was like "yeah, well it fucking sucks.  So there."

12. What easily ticks you off (puts you in a bad mood quickly)?

Stupidity, people who can't spit out what they're trying to say, people who ask me what the hell I'm talking about.

13. How many children do you have?

One.  And seriously.  That's more than enough.

 

It's only a matter of time...

 

14. Is there anything you have ever regretted writing on your blog?

No.  Except for some of these answers.

15. What’s your favorite blog post you have written this year so far?

It's been a pretty rough year for writer's block.  I haven't written much.  Maybe this one. Or this one about the non-genderized kid.  Notice they're both angry rants...

16. Do you ever enter other bloggers competitions, and have you ever been lucky?

I don't because I am literally the unluckiest person alive.  Want to hit the lottery?  Ask me to pick 45 numbers and play the ones I don't pick.  Seriously. 

This is how I start my day.

17. If you could be anyone else for the day, who would you choose and why?

Lila.  That kid lives in the lap of luxury.

18. If you could time travel to any period of history what era would you visit?

25 A.D.  I want to see what Jesus was really all about.     

19. If you had to be genetically modified, would you rather have a third arm, a third leg, a second head or some other modification???

I would want a third penis. 

20. Which Disney character can you most relate to?

Any of these guys:

WHY? on Wednesday

With all the wars that we, as a culture seem to be waging, I feel that there is one serious and criminal offense that no one is talking about.  Sure, you've all heard about the war on terror, the war on poverty, the war on childhood obesity, and the war on drugs (how's that been working out?).  But I am here to declare war on something else.

Those terrifying couple's pregnancy portraits. 

Here's how I imagine the conversation went:

Photographer: Let's do something that

      really represents your personalities.

Pregnant Lady: Well, he's a huge baby

      and I am a huge drunk so......

There is nothing cute about them.  Even the more tasteful ones (and I use that term loosely) are fucking awful. 

There is a fine line between THIS one, and
having this next one hanging on your mantle to
make everyone uncomfortable at Christmas dinner:

 It's okay to love your dog....but it's not
okay to LOOOOVE your dog.

Before you attack me and tell me that I am a horrible, unfeeling human being, I want you to know that I GET it.  I understand that this is a special time and that you want to have an artistic representation of this most glorious time in your lives together.  But seriously.  Do you have to do THIS:

or THIS:

or even THIS:

Seriously.  How about if you pull out the digital camera and just take some nice photos with your clothes on and no props and then keep them to yourselves?  Because once you cross that line of putting your most intimate moments on a Christmas card, the law should step in and confiscate the photos forever. 

Don't think anyone would do it?

I am sure 2nd cousin Danny was
thrilled when this came in the mail.

And it isn't really just the couple's portraits.  There are some serious mishaps with the pregnant ladies alone too:

Someone should rescue her!  She must have opened a
meteor like Stephen King did in Creepshow!

Children of the Corn?

I am  not alone in my distaste for these awful photos.  There are entire websites devoted to this stuff.  And if there are enough people out there who want this insanity to stop, then perhaps you should think twice before you pull out the mop and broom and pose for with your significant other with your gigantic belly sticking out.

Seriously.  A MOP?

Just to further prove my point, I present the following:

Who are we showcasing here?

Whose idea do you think this was?

They clearly have been training for the zombie apocalypse.

I'm just saying....

Because Wildlife Sucks.

We have a squirrel problem. 

Last winter we started hearing scratching in the walls and would randomly have a brown squirrel peeking through the window of our bedroom taunting the cat to come get it.

The squirrel was living in the space above the ceiling of our front porch and we put out a humane trap to catch it.  We scattered a few peanuts and apple slices inside the cage and thought for sure that we'd get him.  But the squirrel was smarter than us. 

That little fucker managed to get ALL the food out without ever stepping foot into the trap not once, but 3 nights in a row.  On the 4th night we put out a whole apple, figuring that he would HAVE to go in to get it because the apple is too big to be pulled out.  In the morning, half the apple was in the cage and the cage was shut, but the squirrel was no where to be found.   

Ben's first thought was to get a BB gun, but I insisted that he call a squirrel catcher to come get it.  We searched online and everything I read said that squirrels are EXTREMELY hard to get rid of.  Ben reminded me of our former (obviously bat shit crazy) neighbor who told us that the squirrels will come back year after year and that she ultimately had to trap them (you may want to look away now) and drown the entire family of them in a barrel.  But we don't really have a lot of random barrels and I also think that borders on completely psychotic. 

I begged Ben to just call an exterminator so that the nest could be removed properly so that they didn't come back next year.  But since Ben is a manly and clearly he can patch a hole better than anyone else who has ever had a squirrel problem, he decided he would take care of it. 

Ben went up and patched the hole the squirrel was using as a foyer and waited.  Nothing.  No sound, no squirrel.  Done.  Right?

The next day, the squirrel was back rabidly gnawing at the patch trying to get in.  It was not deterred by the water we sprayed it with or the rocks we threw at it.  Ben had a guy working on our house doing some painting and it literally chased him into the house.  The squirrel was completely freaking out. 

This is from scienceblogs.com.  Seriously.

That night at about 3 am, we found out why.

We started to hear this awful screeching noise.  It sounded a little like the noise a washing machine makes when one of the belts is faulty except not continuous.  It would happen for a few minutes and then stop.  Ben thought that the squirrel was standing outside our window screaming but it didn't take long for me to diagnose that the screaming was coming from inside the bedroom wall.

The squirrel had babies.  And now the babies were dying inside our wall. 

This was when I was in the trenches with my depression and the wailing squirrel babies were too much for me to take.  I was pretty sure that we were going to burn in hell for killing the baby squirrels and the sound was gut-wrenching.  I cried until morning and sent Ben out as soon as the sun came up to unpatch the hole.  We would have to wait until we knew the babies were gone.

Several days went by, and one day we were getting Lila into the car and we saw the squirrel doing something extremely creepy.  If you've never seen a squirrel climb down the side of a house with a black squirrel baby coming out of its little squirrel mouth, please know that it is the stuff of nightmares.  The thing LITERALLY walked down the side of the wall with the baby squirrel curled up with it's little back legs wrapped around mama squirrel's head.  I still have nightmares.

This was GREAT!  We waited another couple of days and it was time to patch that sucker back up. 

Summer came and went and so did fall.  We had no problem.  The rabid asshole squirrel seemed to have found a happy home elsewhere and was no longer burrowing into our walls.  We actually kind of forgot about it and were making plans to put siding and a roof on the house in a few weeks. 

Usually I am not home in the middle of the afternoon, but a couple of days ago my mother had a doctors appointment and I was home with Lila.  I was in the bedroom when I heard that familiar scratching sound. 

THAT ASSHOLE SQUIRREL WAS BACK!!!

I looked out out bedroom window to see if I could see it gnawing at the top of the porch but I couldn't.  So I ran outside and looked up and saw this gigantic fat black squirrel (not to be racist) giving me the eyeball while standing up on it's hind feet like a furry Clint Eastwood. 

It didn't look like this.

It looked like this.

But it wasn't the terrifying monster squirrel that caught my attention.  The squirrel had gnawed a gigantic hole into the side of the house.  Not the little corner where the original hole was.  This is gaping squirrel sized hole on the SIDE OF MY HOUSE.  I have no idea how the hell a squirrel manages to defy gravity and work on the actual WALL OF THE HOUSE but this guy did. 

I begged Ben at this point to PLEASE just call a squirrel exterminator (ex-squirrel-inator) to take care of the problem once and for all, but he insisted he would take car of it that day.  He didn't.  After mentioning it every for 2 weeks (and being accused of being a nagging bitch every time), yesterday I finally found the phrase that would motivate him to get his ass up there and patch it (because you know that there's no way that I am climbing up on a ladder and confronting giant rabies squirrel myself).  "Do it before it has babies in there!"

Today when I came home from work (I get out at 2 on Fridays), he was on the ladder with several pieces of wood and a tool belt.  Very official looking.  

As I got out of the car, it crossed my mind, but I am always the little dark rain cloud who thinks the worst and I tried not to say it but I did anyway.  "You're sure the squirrel isn't in there, right?"

He confidently told me that he hasn't seen or heard it all day so it MUST be gone.  "It could just be sleeping in there...in fact, the fact that it isn't scampering around out here snapping tree branches with its heft is a good indication that it is NOT gone..."  But I didn't say THAT.  I just dropped it.

Ben declared victory and went back to work. 

Boy I did NOT enjoy having to call him an hour later and tell him that the squirrel is now trying to claw its way out of the wall.  And he got all fucking mad!  At the squirrel!!!  Like he didn't just decide to take a shortcut (many).

Am I allowed to say "I FUCKING TOLD YOU!!!" 

It's not right to judge and some more questions

I am often guilty of being a pretty shitty mom.  I feed my kid mac and cheese that comes in a cardboard box (sometimes several times a week).  I allow her to wear makeup and lipstick (she's 4) and often get weird looks like I am a Toddlers in Tiara's mom.  I often don't have the energy to enforce things like manners and "no talking back" and so most of the time we spend together she is acting like a total bitch.  I even usually buy non-organic produce and feed it to her (please refrain from calling child protective services).  And yet despite all my shortcomings as a parent, she still seems to be smart, happy and well-mannered (at least in front of other people). 

Because of my secret knowledge of how I am just really lucky that my kid knows that there is a different kind of behavior for being in public than there is for home, I try to be pretty reluctant to judge.  I don't really think any worse of mothers who breast or bottle feed, or have a few drinks or take antidepressants during pregnancy, or work full time or choose to homeschool (although we all know that THOSE mothers should be locked up *wink*).  But sometimes there are mothers that you just want to kick in the vag because of their ability to overlook the completely OBVIOUS ways that they are contributing to their child's bad behavior.


Lila and I had the honor of being a flower girl and bridesmaid (I hope I don't have to tell you who the flower girl was because it would be really bizarre if it was me) at the wedding of one of my long-time friends. Lila's job was simply to prance down the aisle with a little boy who we will call "N".  Lila was not going to be a problem.  She follows direction well and is smart enough to understand what people are telling her to do. 

Not so with all children.  Before I even met him, I heard "cute" stories about him from his family at the bridal shower and from my friend.  Everyone thought it was "cute" when N purposely punched his Daddy in the nuts.  It's so adorable how he still talks like a baby and refuses to put words together into sentences, just like he did when he was 18 months old!  He's not ready for preschool yet because he's so "gifted" that he isn't interested in learning colors or shapes or counting, and there's no reason to push him. And isn't it just so grown up the way he demands what he wants and never takes "no" for an answer?  Maybe he'll be a CEO or a Diva when he grows up!  Let's just say that I wasn't expecting a victorian gentleman.

His behavior at the rehearsal dinner wasn't as bad as I had been warned to expect.  His mother held his hand and walked him through it a few times, and when the time came for he and Lila to practice alone, he simply took off running and then refused to stand anywhere near the groomsmen.  Not a big deal, since 3 year old boys tend to be overly rambunctious and it was getting close to dinner time.  But I did find it strange that his mother gave him one ring pop after another in an effort to get him to "settle down and pay attention."  And did I mention that this was about 30 minutes before the rehearsal DINNER?

We went over to a super causal restaurant/bar nearby for the rehearsal dinner.  As everyone was getting seated, I was chatting away with one of the other bridesmaids when I happened to look directly in front of me and saw something interesting.  N was licking Sweet N Low off the table.  At the restaurant.  First off, I will barely let my kid TOUCH restaurant tables if I can help it.  Because of this I immediately looked for his mother to let her know that somehow her kid had torn open a packet of aspertame and is licking it off the table, but when I realized that she was sitting next to him crumpling a little pink packet and then stroking his head my eyes nearly burst out of my head.  "He's been such a good boy today, I can't say no to him," she said warmly.

"SERIOUSLY?" I whispered to the other bridesmaid as motioned my eyes in their general direction.  She was as amazed as I was and told me she could not believe that this was okay.  I mean, it wasn't SUGAR, right?  It was only a disgusting cancer-causing artificial sweetner being tongued from a petri dish of a table in a bar/restaurant (and who are we kidding?  The word "Tavern" is in the name of this place - it was a BAR that also serves food) by a 3 year old, so no issue. 

Although pretty much everyone else in the wedding party stared in wonderment at this kid making out with the pile of sweetner on the (bar room) table, the mother and her immediate family seemed completely oblivious to fact that this might be somewhat questionable.  And I really think that this would not be blog worthy if I hadn't heard the ongoing conversation she was having. 

She was telling Ben how he is such a delightful kid, most of the time.  She talked about how "strong willed" (code for completely out of control) and "free spirited" (does not care if it's okay) he is, all the while while telling him how he seems to want to destroy everything he gets his hands on and has caused quite a huge amount of property damage by crushing, stepping on, and in every way decimating anything that is of any value.  Of course, then she went on to say that he "doesn't mean it" and there's "no point in punishing him for it because he's just being a boy."


SERIOUSLY?  You really don't think that some of this might have to do with the fact that you have no ability to teach this kid limits or tell him that something is not okay?  Because I am pretty sure that there is no way a kid will suddenly decide that he doesn't want to set things on fire if someone doesn't let him know that FIRE WILL KILL YOU.  I'm just saying.  Breaking things is fun.  Being wild and insane is fun.  Licking sugar off a (did I mention it was a bar?) table is only a kid's version of body shots.  So why would a kid EVER potentially turn into an adult who does not want to smash and burn things or eat chocolate pudding of bathroom floors on a daily basis (which is the only logical conclusion to the sweetner incident).

I realize that I sound like one of those preachy asshole judging moms who acts disgusted at the idea of not breastfeeding until high school, but I want to murder people who are oblivious to their influence as parents or simply choose to allow to let their kids act poorly because of whatever wacked-out child-rearing philosophy they read about in the trendy parenting book of the month.

Kids definitely need room to be themselves.  They need to know it's okay when they screw up, but that they will be guided to behave properly.  They need to know that there is a world outside their homes where certain rules apply and the best way to teach them those rules is to put in the effort to show them.  As much as your kid may protest and tell you they don't want to be your friend anymore, they will know that you love them because you gave them a sense of right and wrong that applies in most situations where contrary to the wishes of Mama, people will have some basic expectations of them.

Ok.  My rant is over.
 ...................................................................................

Now on to Sunday Stealing:

Sunday Stealing: The 99'er Meme: Final Part

Cheers to all of us thieves!

76) In your opinion, what makes a great relationship?
Seperate apartments?

77) How did/could someone win your heart?
Leave me alone.  That seems to make me like you more.

78) In your world, what brings on more creativity?
booze

79) What is the single best decision you have made in your life so far?
To start my blog *wink*

80) Why did you break up with your last ex?
Wasn't this question asked last week?  I moved to AZ.

81) What would you want to be written on your tombstone?
I saw one that said "I Told You I Was Sick".  I'm a bit of a hypochondriac.

82) What is your favorite word?
FUCK. It isn't but I sure say it a lot.

83) Give me the first thing that comes to mind when you hear the word: delusional.
My entire life?

84) What is a saying you use a lot?
Shut it.

85) Are you watching Idol this season? If yes, how do you like it?
No.  I don't even have a smart assed comment for that because I am so offended.

86) Were you surprised that House got canceled?
Ok.  I am done with the TV questions.  Doesn't anyone read anymore?

87) What is your current desktop picture?

88) If you could press a button and make anyone in the world instantaneously explode, who would it be?
Any of the current Republican Nominees.  Hopefully during a photo op.

89) What would be a question where you'd not tell the truth?
Is there anything you could give a shit less about?

90) One night you wake up because you heard a noise. You turn on the light to find that you are surrounded by WEEPING ANGELS. The Weeping Angles aren't really doing anything, they're just standing around your bed. What would you do?
Go to the emergency room to find out if someone put LSD in my drink.

91) You accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what's even cooler is that they endow you with the super-power of your choice! What is that power?
I would be SUPER MOM.

92) You can re-live any point of time in your life. The time-span can only be a half-hour, though. What half-hour of your past would you like to experience again?
*wink* it would be dirty.

93) You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be?
My recurrent bouts of Major Depressive Episodes.  So that would be about the last 30 or so years.

94) You have the opportunity to sleep with the music-celebrity of your choice. (let's say that you are both single and available) Who might it be?
Marky Mark while he was with the Funky Bunch.  Or 65 Comeback Special Elvis.

95) You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere. You have to depart right now. Where are you gonna go?
To the town in Italy where my Grandfather came from.

96) Do you have any relatives or friends in jail?
Hahahaha.  Not anymore, but in my day I received a good amount of prison pictures in the mail.

97) Who's winning the U.S. Republican presidential nomination? Why?
Mittens is the safest bet and the only one who is moderate enough to pick up non-affiliated voters.  But it doesn't matter because they're all apeshit crazy.

98) Who's winning the next U.S. Presidential election?
It doesn't matter. Seriously. The system is so broken that no matter who wins it will be more of the same bullshit.

99) If the whole world were listening to you right now, what would you say?
Shut the fuck up and let me take my nap.

New Addition to my Shit List.

I am sure this is going to make me seem bigoted and narrow-minded, but for some reason this really infuriated me when I read it.

Listen, I am all for gender equality and all that shit, but this couple should probably have been sterilized before they had the chance to ruin this kid's life. 

Couple Finally Reveals Child's Gender, Five Years After Birth

It's a boy! And he's five. Beck Laxton, 46, and partner Kieran Cooper, 44, have spent half the decade concealing the gender of their son, Sasha.

"I wanted to avoid all that stereotyping," Laxton said in an interview with the Cambridge News. "Stereotypes seem fundamentally stupid. Why would you want to slot people into boxes?"

Laxton, a UK-based web editor, and her partner, Cooper, decided to keep Sasha's sex a secret when he was still in the womb. The birth announcement stated the name of the gender-neutral name of their child, but skipped the big reveal. Up until recently, the couple only told a few close friends and family members that Sasha was a boy and managed to keep the rest of the world in the dark. But now that he's starting school the secret's out."

(courtesy Yahoo! News)

Sasha better get used to that attitude...

There are about a thousand things wrong with this but I will start with some of the most obvious:

First I want to answer this asshole's question about why you would want to assign someone a gender or ("slot people into boxes").  Here it is:  Because I am pretty sure that throughout the history of the earth, this system has seemed to work pretty well for nature FOR MILLIONS OF YEARS.  There are boy bees and girl bees, and they have different tendencies.  There are even male and female parts on plants.  Who the fuck are you to thwart your little experiment in defying nature on some innocent kid who just wants to be a kid? 

Do I understand that the way we act and the things we do in life are sometimes dictated by our genders?  Yes.  Do I know that some people feel that they are not made to be the gender their sexy parts tell them to be?  Yes, and I have seen that first hand.  Do I agree that the male and female roles are something that is entirely based on a man-made construct? Well, mostly.

You see, although I know that much of gender is psychological, I also realize that men and women are physically different.  Not just because of their puzzle pieces but also because of hormones, brain construct, muscle and fat distribution and a myriad of other traits that have been more or less consistent throughout the history of the species.  It is true that there are many exceptions to this and it is true (to a point) that we are all individuals and genetically have an endless array of variations.  But I can acknowledge that perhaps the roles reflect the inherent strengths and weakness of each sex.  No matter how bad Ben wants it, he will never carry a baby (and have all the hormonal and emotional havoc associated with it) and no matter how hard I try, I will never thoughtlessly leave my socks in random places because that's where I needed to take them off at that moment.

Hey, it makes him feel beautiful, okay?

But to me, it seems there is something more questionable about this.  These parents are not celebrities.  Beck is a web editor and apparently Kiernan is a stay at home parent who likes to think of fun ways to force children into a lifetime of therapy.  That being said, who the hell is this "rest of the world" that they care enough to "conceal" his gender from?  Sasha?  The mailman?  The pedophile down the street?  It stands to reason that perhaps they were just looking for their 15 minutes (5 years) of fame because who the fuck cares about your kid and what genitals it has?  We aren't talking about simply giving a kid all the gender-neutral options here.  We are talking about purposely refusing to tell anyone (I am assuming the kid as well, because 3 year olds CANNOT keep a secret) because they have some bizarre fetish with androgeny.

But there's more to this story:

For years, Becks has been referring to her child, the youngest of three, as "the infant" on her personal blog. But guarding the public from her son's gender was only part of her quest to let her kid just be a kid.

Sasha dresses in clothes he likes -- be it a hand-me-downs from his sister or his brother. The big no-no's are hyper-masculine outfits like skull-print shirts. In one photo, sent to friends and family, Sasha's dressed in a shiny pink girl's swimsuit. "Children like sparkly things," says Beck. "And if someone thought Sasha was a girl because he was wearing a pink swimming costume, then what effect would that have? "

Ooooooh I can't WAIT to go and link over to her blog! I bet it is filled with all kinds of fun stories about the dog really wanting to play with catnip and the cat trying to fly like a bird.

Sasha can only dress in clothes he likes if those clothes are either gender-neutral or super girly.  No cargo pants (even though they make them for women) and no skulls or "masculine" things?  But sparkly skirts?  YES!  WONDERFUL!  That seems a little shady to me.  As if they are trying to force the issue that he select opposite-gender things.  What if he really LOVED skulls and lightening bolts and monsters?  I bet that would be a HUGE dissappointment to these dicks.

A big ass is not the kind of "cargo" these
pants are made for.

But there is something else. There are more kids in the house...who know what parts they have. So although little Sasha probably is too little to be aware of what ass hats his parents are, the older children have been in school and have likely been sworn to secrecy by their parents and been harrassed and teased for the he/she brother/sister they have. And kids LOVE having to lie and keep secrets from their friends. Nothing could be more fun for a kid than to have a dark secret to keep.

Sasha's also not short on dolls, though Barbie is also off limits. "She's banned because she's horrible," Laxton says in Cambridge interview.

On a macro level she hopes her son sets an example for other parents and makes them reconsider buying their sons trucks or forcing their daughters into tights. She's seen how those consumer trappings affect how and who kids play with in the sandbox.

Ohhhhhh. BARBIE is horrible. She may have porno boobs and weird feet, but at least she isn't running a social experiment on her kids.

And I believe that her dreams of setting an example is lost on me. I am pretty sure that you can just tell people "she is a girl" but still allow her to dress and play however the hell she wants.   Or you could just do what other parents do and name your kid something totally unisex like Pat or Terry or Beck or Kiernan.  

My point is that there are plenty of ways to encourage a kid to like and do non-gender specific things without sending him/her out into the world totally unprepared for the very realistic and extremely likely possibility that he WILL be put into a hundred different categories throughout his life and people WILL have different expectations of him based on those things.  Boo hoo hoo.  That's the way it is.

But the sandbox is just a precursor to the classroom. When Sasha turned five and headed to school, Laxton was forced to make her son's sex public. That meant Sasha would have to get used to being a boy in the eyes of his peers. Still, his mom is intervening. While the school requires different uniforms for boys and girls, Sasha wears a girl's blouse with his pants. (emphasis mine)


Oh Jesus Christ.  I am going to go see if anyone has set up a place to send donations for this kid's lifetime of therapy costs.

Read the full article here:

http://shine.yahoo.com/parenting/couple-finally-reveals-childs-gender-five-years-birth-180300388.html

Needs Work.

Ben is a General Contractor.

I know what you're thinking:  Well, that sure does explain his shitty attitude and unreliability.  But actually, he really is one of the only honest contractors I have ever met. In fact, he has a problem because he is too nice and generous and has a habit of doing extra work for no charge and because of that we are always broke.

But I don't want to talk about his (lack of) business sense.  I want to tell you about my house.

Whenever Ben finishes a big job like a kitchen remodel or building a new porch, he likes to take pictures so that he can use them in a portfolio to show potential clients.  These projects are always flawless, and clean and beautiful. 

Like this.  Although this is not actually one of his..
This is a random internet pic.

We bought an abandoned house last year really cheap.  Because Ben is a contractor, he did all the work on it to make it livable.  In fact, since our lease was running out and our landlord REFUSED to give us another month, he did all the work on the house in about 5 weeks.  He worked morning until night, 7 days a week and when we moved in, the house was ALMOST done.  There were just a bunch of little things that needed to be finished up.  Things like moulding along the floor, touch-up paint, doors needing door knobs - things like that.  And because he had essentially BUILT a house from rubble, I ignored it and figured it would get done.

The thing is, none of that shit is done, 15 months later.  Do you know why?  Because for some infuriating reason, whenever Ben does work around OUR house, he leaves it half done. 

OK.  At least I DO have countertops...But still.

Three months ago, he put a transition piece along the border between the bathroom tile floor and the slightly lower hardwood floor of the hallway.  It took him about 20 minutes to measure, cut and position the piece.  He set it there....and left it.  Now every time I walk out of the bathroom, I kick the thing and it goes flying out into the hallway.  He never bothered to nail it down.  I asked him how much time it takes to nail a piece of wood in place and he told me, "About 30 seconds...a minute if you do it right".  I told him I was getting the hammer and he assured me that he would take care of it because "you don't want the nail to stick up at all."  THIS WAS THREE MONTHS AGO!!!!!

We have a couple of spots on the drywall that were damaged somehow and are going to need touch-up paint.  Last JULY I asked him to get the paint out (because his work area is a labirynth of crap that only he has the magic map to) and I would paint it.  He told me he would take care of it.  Later that day, he applied that plaster crap to it to patch it.  He let it dry and sanded it down.  I had a pile of white dust on the floor for 4 days before I finally gave in and swept it up.  The white patch is still there.  He told me it still needs another layer...WHAT THE FUCK!!!!

I have attempted to explain to him that it offends me that when he does jobs at other people's houses he actually finishes up, then cleans and leaves the place looking like something from an HGTV room makeover show, but our house looks like someone randomly pieced it together and then forgot about it.

Another (visual) example:

We have plans to get siding in the spring.  The house is an ugly green and looks as if it hasn't been painted in at least 20 years.  Also, we kind of have to because the house is drafty and cold even with new windows and weatherproofing.  There are gaps in the old wood slats and that makes the walls super cold and covering it will make it better (or at least I am told).  While I was out the other day, Ben decided that he was going to fill in some of the worst gaps with "a little caulk".  This is what the side of our house looks like now:

Yes,I ran outside in the cold to take this picture just now.
  And we live on a corner.  This side faces the street.

SERIOUSLY, BEN?  REALLY???

"Would you EVER do that to someone else's house?"  He shrugged.

"Then WHY THE HELL WOULD YOU DO IT TO OUR HOUSE?  Don't you care AT ALL what this house looks like?" 

"Not really."  He admitted.  "It's going to get sided and then it will look really nice.  EVENTUALLY it will look good." 

Did I mention that the house was SUPPOSED to be sided and have a new roof put on over the past summer but (and I am quoting here) Ben "just didn't get around to it."  Now, maybe it's just me but I would think that a job as large as siding a house is something you PLAN, in advance.  And maybe schedule.  With some help.  (Now that I am typing this, I am concerned that my house will he half sided for the next 10 years.)

That's awesome.  Because I love having a hillbilly shack to be proud of.  Don't even get me started about the shit he keeps in our yard.

We're just one boat and a missing roof tile away from this...

And it isn't that I don't try to help or do the work myself.  He won't let me.  He says I don't know what I am doing.  Because CLEARLY, it takes a professional to stick a door knob on.

Am I over-reacting?  What do you think?

Why I (Don't) Love Christmas

Twas the day before Christmas and here at my house,

I have one antsy kid and an exhausted spouse.

The baubles keep getting knocked off of the tree

by a fat asshole cat who clearly has a death wish.

 

Fu** this!  Writing poems is actually REALLY hard. How do people rhyme things for a living???

Instead I will expose why people get so depressed in the weeks leading up to Christmas.  I know this from VAST experience with the subject...

Ideally:


The tree is big and lush and sparkles perfectly with all the ornaments perfectly spaced.  The house is lightly scented with the aroma of pine and we sit around at night marveling at the beauty of it all.

Reality:


We apparently got our tree too early.  Ben insists on a real tree and even though we watered it religiously, it is drooping and drying out.  The ornaments that looked so perfect when we first put them on are now all sort of grouping together where the heavier ones and pulled the branches down to the lighter ones.  Instead of noting the beauty of the lit-up tree, I am being driven insane by the amount of new needles strewn all over the floor for 30 feet in every direction every time I finish sweeping a pile up. 


............................................................................

Ideally:


Baking cookies, assembling gingerbread houses, crafting heart-felt gifts and doing volunteer work to show how much we love our friends, family and community.

Reality:


Working more hours to have enough cash to buy crap that no one is going to use.  This means that when I have time off all I want to do is sleep, but I force myself to stay awake and manage to complete the basic tasks of running a house with enough time to spare to shower once in a while.  All that other crap will have to wait.

..........................................................................................

Ideally:


In lieu of being able to craft beautiful hand-made items, instead, I go out shopping in a cheerful mood, spreading joy to every store I walk into by wishing everyone a wonderful holiday season, and picking out the PERFECT gift for each person on my list that I just know they will love.

Reality:


Fighting through a bunch of assholes in a store to find that the only thing I could think of to get Ben's mom is out of stock and the next closest model is way out of my price range.  Instead I get a standard, one-size-fits all gift:  a scented candle, and when I get to the register the clerk has had enough of this bullshit and needs a break so she angrily rings up my order without saying a word.  I spend the days until Christmas feeling unsatisfied with every gift I bought and regretting every dime I spent.  At some point while shopping, I also inevitably spend 20 minutes arguing with some asshole in line behind me about the fact that the cashier is part of a huge conspiracy to take the "Christ" out of Christmas, and explaining to him that the Pilgrims actually banned Christmas and that the idea that there is a war on Christmas is fucking stupid.

...............................................................................................

Ideally:


Christmas dinner is a time when everyone in my family and all my aunts, uncles and cousins sit around a giant table with a fireplace in the background and talk about all the wonderful things we have been doing since last Christmas while listening to Christmas music playing softly in the background.

Reality:


Only 4 people show up to Christmas dinner because someone owes someone else money or slept with someone's wife, and so no one is willing to sit in the same room with each other.  An uncle invariably drinks a little too much and starts a fight with my dad over who gets the last serving of chocolate cream pie.  The police are called and the kids cry inconsolably while they watch my uncle get carted away in a police car.

......................................................................................


Ideally:


Lila wakes up in complete awe at the fact that Santa has come and there are heaps of beautifully wrapped gifts under the tree.  Every time she opens a present it is EXACTLY what she wanted and for weeks after Christmas she is amused and enjoys every item staying occupied and content.

Reality:


After the momentary awe of waking up in the morning and being thrilled at the prospect of presents, Lila tears through the wrapping with a "wow" for the first few items and gradually getting bored opening things.  After opening all her toys, she leaves them all where she opened them and rounds up all the ribbons and bows and plays with them for 3 hours.  Two days later she asks for a new toy.

...........................................................................................

Ideally:

After having Christmas dinner and getting the house back in order, I take a few minutes with Lila and Ben to relax on the couch and talk about how everyone got something they wished for and how fortunate we are, because we know that not everyone has family or love or the ability to provide nice things for the ones they love. 

Reality:

This one is spot on. 

Merry Christmas everyone.