I had a mind once. Now I have small children.

Tuesday, October 16, 2012

The Potty Seat

So, I was using the potty tonight...  Yes.  I use the potty.  Sometimes I even lock myself in there for longer than necessary to escape the madness in my home.  Anyways, I was using the potty tonight when I noticed Peach's little step-stool.  She has one of those potty chair/potty-seat-that-fits-on-the-toilet/step-stool things.  And it is princess, of course.  So, I am looking at it, as I am potty-ing, and I notice the warning on the top of the cover.  It reads:

Warning:  Do not exceed 200 pounds on step stool. 

Which begs the question...  Ummmm... what?

Basically, this tells me that someone who weighed more than 200 pounds, stood on this particular type of potty at one point, obviously fell down in some sort of fashion, and sued the potty company because he/she was not able to logically come to the conclusion that someone of that body mass should not actually stand on a small, pink, plastic potty chair as a form of balance. 


Ok, then.  Also, this winter, I am putting a sign out on my front porch that reads:

Do not eat the yellow snow. 


Thursday, October 4, 2012

Random Thoughts...

Not counting last night's post about my sock breakdown, I haven't been on much lately.  I have a lot of thoughts rolling around in my mind, but I just can't seem to get any of them to come together into a coherent paragraph or two.  So, I figured I should just tell you what is going on in this semi-sane head of mine.

Here we go...

First of all, my house is totally ready for Halloween.  I didn't even have to get the decorations out.  My house is just such a disaster that it looks like the aftermath of a horror movie.  I would love to tell you that I care enough to do something about it...  Unfortunately, I can't do that at this point in time.  It's not that it is filthy in here, just messy.  There IS a difference, you know.  (It's not like I have mystery rocks rolling around anymore.)  Alas, I have company coming next weekend and I just don't think they will appreciate my creative perception of scary decor.

Speaking of company coming...  I am so happy that my cousin and her friend are coming from New York to visit!!!  And, as if that weren't enough glee for one weekend, the Zaz and the Pop are coming, too!!!  It's enough to make my head explode with happiness!  Donuts and beer for breakfast anyone?

My dear friend RB and I had a fantastic conversation about kids going off to school.  His daughter, Raven, started Kindergarten this year, as did my Luigi.  As a seasoned mom, let's just say our perceptions about leaving kiddos at the door of the school were a little bit different.  My dear RB, I hope to get to that story soon!

Part of the reason I haven't been writing much lately is because...  Wait for it...   I got a job!!!  What?  I know.  Like I don't already have enough on my plate, right?  But, it is perfect.  I will be doing office work 5 hours a week, while Peach is in preschool, for a friend's business.  I must say, getting back into the working world has me a little bit nervous.  I mean, when I went to the school to make copies for Mario's teacher last week, I just about had an anxiety attack over the copy machine.  Have you seen those things lately?  Sheesh!  Nine years out of the work force and copy machines can suddenly do everything!  So, I will be doing some office work and learning about all these crazy new-fangled gadgets that people now use in their offices.  Who knows, maybe I'll even learn to use one of those Internets things.  And, every girl needs some extra cash for manis and Starbucks, right? 

Our new Koopa Troopa is weird.  He is the sweetest kitty, but he has a wild streak.  Every morning he goes into Luigi's room and licks his cars.  I'm not even joking here.  KT3 (I just can't replace KT1, so we shall just keep the numbers going) goes into Luigi's room every morning and spends 10 minutes licking matchbox cars.  OooooKaaaayyyy...   He also eats paper.  Oh, and he stalks KT2.  KT2 can be sleeping on the bed, just minding her own kitty business, when all of a sudden, she gets pounced on as though she were a tiger's prey.  I'm pretty sure she doesn't appreciate it very much.

The Goombas are all getting into music.  But, not just any music.  They love the teeny-bopper, bouncy, peppy, Disney stuff.  Ugh.  Ok, so, I say ugh, but what I really mean is, "I will secretly act like I don't like it, but that stuff is so damn catchy that I can't stop singing it over and over in my head and I find myself playing it on the iPod even when the Goombas aren't with me."  ...sigh...  My only complaint is that I have to wonder who is writing these songs?  Taylor Swift for example.  Love her.  Great music.  But, in "Love Story," does she not realize that she is calling herself a whore?  "He was Romeo I was the Scarlet Letter..."  Has she read the Scarlet Letter?  Because, it isn't exactly a term I would use for myself.  I'm just saying...  Also, Selena Gomez sings about her man being "a centerfold, lyrical, beautiful..."  What on earth does a teenager know about centerfolds?  Really?  Still, I listen and sing right along with the Goombas, because apparently that is what a mama does.

Is there anything else?  Not really that I can think of.  I mean, there is a ton more, but as I said before, a lot of it doesn't come together as a cohesive thought.  So, for now, I will sign off and say Happy Thursday!  I'm going to enjoy the lovely, cool, fall weather that has finally arrived.


Wednesday, October 3, 2012

Pet Peeve - Socks

Anyone who knows me, knows that I am not the best housekeeper in the world.  I try, I really do.  But, there is just so much else I would rather do than clean.  I do, however, have my standards and my pet peeves.  I think my biggest household pet peeve is socks.  As in, dirty socks that are thrown all around my house.  I swear the Goombas put on socks, just so they can take them off and throw them willy-nilly all around our downstairs level.  I find them sticking out from under the refrigerator, in the pantry by the cereal, all over the entry way, in between couch cushions...  I mean everywhere.  And I hate it.  Toys on the floor, fine, whatever.  Crumbs here and there, I can sweep those up in an instant.  Socks on the floor.  Forget it.  It makes me insane. 

To be honest, I just really don't like socks at all.  They make your feet hot.  They get lost in the washing machine and/or dryer.  They get holes in them.  They are usually ugly.  There is nothing more annoying than having to pair them up and roll them into their stupid little sock balls.  Oh, and did I mention, they lie around all over the floor of my house?  I digress...

Tonight I had enough.  I came downstairs from putting the younger two Goombas to bed.  I was exhausted and I was ready to plop my butt down on the couch with my glass of wine and watch the debate.  (Really, I would rather watch something else, but I'm pretty sure it will be on every channel.)  Anyhow, I came downstairs, ready for quiet time, and when I walked into my living room there were socks scattered all over the room.  And I'm pretty sure that is when my head exploded.

Poor Mario.  He was innocently sitting at the kitchen table doing homework and since his brother and sister were in bed, he had to suffer the wrath.  (Side note:  It's not that he is innocent of the sock tossing, but really, I feel bad about what happened next...) 

It went a little something like this...

Me:  That is IT!!!!  Listen up Mario and Bowser.  And I will tell Luigi and Peach in the morning.  From now on, if I find one of your socks on the floor, I am going to make you EAT IT!!!!

Mario:  (voice shaky) What?

Me:  You heard me.  I am sick of socks on the floor.  From now on, if it is your sock that I find, I will be frying it up and you will be EATING IT!

Bowser:  blank stare from the kitchen.  blink, blink.

Me:  I am NOT EVEN KIDDING.  You all are going to get a lot of sock dinners around here. 

Mario:  sniffle, sniffle


Mario:  You are scaring me!  I don't wanna EAT MY SOCKS!!!!!

Me:  ...sigh...

Ok, ok.  So, maybe it was a little over the top.  But, come on kids!  I can't take it any more!  All I ask is that when you take off your socks, you toss them in the basket in the laundry room.  It's not that difficult! 

There you have it.  I made my 9-year-old cry by telling him I was going to force him to eat his own dirty socks.  Another not-so-proud parenting moment brought to you by Daisy.