Jen Mann's Blog, page 32
September 9, 2013
Apparently Yellow is the Color of Money
I never enjoyed being pregnant. I never "glowed." I slept like crap and something was always aching, sore, or bulging. After Adolpha was born, I knew I was too damn old to ever do it again.
HOWEVER.
I've just learned of a new and highly profitable business venture. The catch is, to make any money in this new market you must be pregnant. The profit margins are so high, I'm thinking of coming out of baby-making retirement just so I can cash in on it before the bubble bursts.
What is this hot tip? You ask.
Used positive pregnancy tests. As in peed upon sticks.
Yup, I just need to get knocked up and then mail out some used pregnancy tests to strangers for cash. You can buy a pregnancy test at the Dollar Store and then charge 15 times what you paid. However, I'm not down with those low-brow pieces of crap. If I was going to do this, I would run a business of repute. I would stand by the quality and workmanship of my pee sticks. I would splurge for the high enders and still charge 15 times. They're name brand and they're worth every penny.
Yeah, I'm not making this up. It's really happening.
Cha-ching!
Craigslist has some listings advertising used pregnancy tests for anywhere from $15 - 40.
I know what you're thinking.
Ewww.
Yeah, I was thinking that too.
And also, Damn, that's a nice ROI.
And then finally, WTF?
Apparently it's a HILARIOUS gag to play on friends and family. "Hey honey! I know we just got all the kids off to college and bought a boat, but guess who's preggers, stud?" or "Hey mom, for my Sweet Sixteen it looks like I'm going to need some baby booties!"
Yeah, it's totally hilarious when you give your 50-year-old husband a mild heart attack or when your mom smacks the shit out of your prom date because she thinks he's your baby daddy. Doesn't everyone just love those sorts of pranks?
It's also a really dirty trick for an ex-boyfriend. "Oh you think you're leaving me, you son of a bitch? Not until you pay up, because look what you've done, Big Daddy!"
I don't know why people are buying these things. I guess I don't really care.
I'm just wondering about the first woman who put her positive pregnancy test on Craigslist. How did that even come about? How was that an idea?
I'm going to say it started with an oversharer. You've seen them. Before they host their gender reveal party and post grainy ultrasound pictures on Facebook they post a snapshot of The Test: a nice (always high end) EPT-looking pregnancy test with the results quite clear and the yellowed end discreetly capped and/or cropped out of the photo.
So New Mommy Oversharer probably posted the picture and all of her family and friends squealed and congratulated her. And then there was that one weird friend she hasn't seen since middle school who commented on the picture, "Oh, I totally need that thing. Can I have it?"
"Why would you want my pregnancy test?" the Oversharer asked.
"Because I would love to play a joke on my husband."
"That doesn't sound very funny," Oversharer said. "That sounds kind of mean."
"That's what makes it such a great prank. Duh! When can I come and get it?"
"You can't have this one. This is the original! This one is going in the baby book!"
"OK, so just pee on another one and drop it in the mail to me."
"No! That is so weird."
"C'mon. I'll pay you for it."
And that's probably when Oversharer's third cousin jumped into the convo. "If she won't do it, I will!" said Cuz.
"Are you pregnant?" the friend asked.
"Yeah. Sorta. I'm pretty sure. I haven't taken a test yet. I spent my 'mad money' this week on lottery tickets so now I've got to wait until next payday. Send me twenty bucks and I can buy a test and mail it to you."
"Done."
So after expenses, Cuz netted around 17 bucks. That's a lot of scratch offs for a gallon of water and just a few minutes of work. This got her thinking. She only had a few more months of pregnancy and she could make bank just by going to the bathroom. She needed to find some more suckers willing to buy her used pregnancy tests. She turned to Craigslist. She sat down at her computer and constructed her ad:
FOR SALE - Affordable USED pregnancy test $15 - 100% positive. Excellent condition, each one guaranteed to be less than a week old. Price includes a modesty cap and the original box. Great gag gift, office prank, stocking stuffer, and/or blackmailing tool (I cannot be held responsible for any blackmailing attempts using my product). So many uses for this device: Funny prank to pull on post-vasectomy Hubby! Great conversation starter with your teenage daughter and her boyfriend when you ask her to take a pregnancy test and then swap the results! Get that deadbeat boyfriend to pop the question! Hysterical when you email a pic to your mom and then break the news that you've decided to never have children! Gained a little weight this month? This positive pregnancy test will get your trainer off your back!
The models I currently have in stock are from the Dollar Store, but I am flexible on brands. PM me for details and pricing on my upgrade program. Frequent buyers: Buy 2 Get the 3rd FREE.
Be sure to check out my other ad: DRUG FREE URINE.
So if you're lucky enough to find yourself pregnant right now, then what are you waiting for? Just cut and paste my ad into Craigslist and watch the dollars roll in, because ladies, you've got a gold mine in your bladder!
Follow me on Facebook and Twitter.
HOWEVER.
I've just learned of a new and highly profitable business venture. The catch is, to make any money in this new market you must be pregnant. The profit margins are so high, I'm thinking of coming out of baby-making retirement just so I can cash in on it before the bubble bursts.
What is this hot tip? You ask.
Used positive pregnancy tests. As in peed upon sticks.
Yup, I just need to get knocked up and then mail out some used pregnancy tests to strangers for cash. You can buy a pregnancy test at the Dollar Store and then charge 15 times what you paid. However, I'm not down with those low-brow pieces of crap. If I was going to do this, I would run a business of repute. I would stand by the quality and workmanship of my pee sticks. I would splurge for the high enders and still charge 15 times. They're name brand and they're worth every penny.
Yeah, I'm not making this up. It's really happening.
Cha-ching!
Craigslist has some listings advertising used pregnancy tests for anywhere from $15 - 40.
I know what you're thinking.
Ewww.
Yeah, I was thinking that too.
And also, Damn, that's a nice ROI.
And then finally, WTF?
Apparently it's a HILARIOUS gag to play on friends and family. "Hey honey! I know we just got all the kids off to college and bought a boat, but guess who's preggers, stud?" or "Hey mom, for my Sweet Sixteen it looks like I'm going to need some baby booties!"
Yeah, it's totally hilarious when you give your 50-year-old husband a mild heart attack or when your mom smacks the shit out of your prom date because she thinks he's your baby daddy. Doesn't everyone just love those sorts of pranks?
It's also a really dirty trick for an ex-boyfriend. "Oh you think you're leaving me, you son of a bitch? Not until you pay up, because look what you've done, Big Daddy!"
I don't know why people are buying these things. I guess I don't really care.
I'm just wondering about the first woman who put her positive pregnancy test on Craigslist. How did that even come about? How was that an idea?
I'm going to say it started with an oversharer. You've seen them. Before they host their gender reveal party and post grainy ultrasound pictures on Facebook they post a snapshot of The Test: a nice (always high end) EPT-looking pregnancy test with the results quite clear and the yellowed end discreetly capped and/or cropped out of the photo.
So New Mommy Oversharer probably posted the picture and all of her family and friends squealed and congratulated her. And then there was that one weird friend she hasn't seen since middle school who commented on the picture, "Oh, I totally need that thing. Can I have it?"
"Why would you want my pregnancy test?" the Oversharer asked.
"Because I would love to play a joke on my husband."
"That doesn't sound very funny," Oversharer said. "That sounds kind of mean."
"That's what makes it such a great prank. Duh! When can I come and get it?"
"You can't have this one. This is the original! This one is going in the baby book!"
"OK, so just pee on another one and drop it in the mail to me."
"No! That is so weird."
"C'mon. I'll pay you for it."
And that's probably when Oversharer's third cousin jumped into the convo. "If she won't do it, I will!" said Cuz.
"Are you pregnant?" the friend asked.
"Yeah. Sorta. I'm pretty sure. I haven't taken a test yet. I spent my 'mad money' this week on lottery tickets so now I've got to wait until next payday. Send me twenty bucks and I can buy a test and mail it to you."
"Done."
So after expenses, Cuz netted around 17 bucks. That's a lot of scratch offs for a gallon of water and just a few minutes of work. This got her thinking. She only had a few more months of pregnancy and she could make bank just by going to the bathroom. She needed to find some more suckers willing to buy her used pregnancy tests. She turned to Craigslist. She sat down at her computer and constructed her ad:
FOR SALE - Affordable USED pregnancy test $15 - 100% positive. Excellent condition, each one guaranteed to be less than a week old. Price includes a modesty cap and the original box. Great gag gift, office prank, stocking stuffer, and/or blackmailing tool (I cannot be held responsible for any blackmailing attempts using my product). So many uses for this device: Funny prank to pull on post-vasectomy Hubby! Great conversation starter with your teenage daughter and her boyfriend when you ask her to take a pregnancy test and then swap the results! Get that deadbeat boyfriend to pop the question! Hysterical when you email a pic to your mom and then break the news that you've decided to never have children! Gained a little weight this month? This positive pregnancy test will get your trainer off your back!
The models I currently have in stock are from the Dollar Store, but I am flexible on brands. PM me for details and pricing on my upgrade program. Frequent buyers: Buy 2 Get the 3rd FREE.
Be sure to check out my other ad: DRUG FREE URINE.
So if you're lucky enough to find yourself pregnant right now, then what are you waiting for? Just cut and paste my ad into Craigslist and watch the dollars roll in, because ladies, you've got a gold mine in your bladder!
Follow me on Facebook and Twitter.
September 5, 2013
We Can Do Better
There is a sappy post making the rounds and I've been trying so hard NOT to comment. I've been holding in my eye rolls and my loud sighs. I've been clutching my own pearls and saying, "Do not engage, Jen."
But tonight, I'm engaging. I just can't stay silent. It's just too much.
I'm sure you've seen the post. It's called FYI (if you're a teenage girl). It's written by a mother of three boys and a daughter. She's writing to the young ladies in her teenage boys' lives. I'll let you read it if you're one of the few who hasn't seen it yet and then come back.
You're back? So what did you think?
The first time I read it, I thought, Blech. Another touchy feely dear son(s) post.
But this one was different. I read it again. It kept nagging at me.
Let's just get past the whole heavy handed I'm the world's greatest mom because we read Facebook together and the weirdness that she shamed girls for posting inappropriate pictures and yet she included topless photos of her young sons frolicking on the beach and flexing their muscles (AKA the boy "duck face"). She's since apologized and changed the pictures and reposted the whole thing. I'm not sure why she didn't just change the pics on the original post, but it doesn't matter now. I'm sure all of the hos at school are happy she left the original ab shots.
The pictures didn't bug me that much. What bugged me was that this post isn't really about her sons. It's really about the trashy little whores who keep throwing themselves at her precious snowflakes and insisting on sending half naked pictures to them. I can just imagine the whole Hall clan sitting around the dining room table scrolling through the computer together while the boys yell, My eyes, Mama, my eyes! Make her stop!
Now, let me just say right here, there are some things that she does that I like.
I like that she goes through her kids' social media with them. I've been very vocal about that. I will do that with Gomer and Adolpha. (I'm not sure we'll do it family- meetin' style around the dining room table, but it will get done.) I know there will be some things I'll never see, but I hope to find most of the dirt they're hiding. I also don't like the idea of little girls emailing provocative pictures to my sweet Gomer. I also think that young girls are way too sexualized and should knock that shit off and I'm already dreading the day I find a picture of Adolpha duck facing (and please let that be the worst picture I find). I've been accused of slut shaming before. I just do it better than Mrs. Hall.
The difference is, I intend to teach my daughter to not send ridiculous selfies with accidental nip slips while at the SAME TIME, I intend to teach my son not to be a fucking creeper.
"Boys, don't be jackholes. I don't care what a girl looks like or what she's wearing. I raised you better than that. Find something else to do rather than ogle her." That's all Mrs. Hall had to say and I would have let it go.
I think this post is highly offensive to young girls and especially any young girl who found herself blocked today by "The Hall Boys" (who when you say it like that sounds like a new ABC Family hit show) because of their smuttiness. What Mrs. Hall wrote was a slut-shaming post wrapped up in a sweet "Bless your heart, you little tramp" bow.
However, I think this post is even more offensive to the young men of the world, and especially The Hall Boys.
Because when I read this post, encouraging young women to cover up and stop tempting the boys all I could think was Can't your boys keep it zipped up, Mrs. Hall?
Seriously, when did teenage boys become so victimized? I had no idea. Is there a telethon I can donate to? Because apparently teenage boys are nothing but brainless blobs with erections who can't control themselves so they explode in their pants every time they see a girls' tight ass in a nighty. I didn't realize that teenage boys are like zombies, stumbling around looking for the next hot beef injection instead of braaaaiiiiins.
No, no, no! Boys cannot get off this easy. Moms of boys cannot get off this easy. We can't just put the blame on the girls and say, "Stop skanking around my precious innocent boy!" When we tell girls to cover up because boys can't handle themselves, there is something wrong.
Instead of always teaching our girls to cover up, why can't we teach our boys to treat girls with respect and to see them as human beings and not just as sexual objects? I know that's what I intend to do.
If you liked this follow me on Facebook and Twitter.
But tonight, I'm engaging. I just can't stay silent. It's just too much.
I'm sure you've seen the post. It's called FYI (if you're a teenage girl). It's written by a mother of three boys and a daughter. She's writing to the young ladies in her teenage boys' lives. I'll let you read it if you're one of the few who hasn't seen it yet and then come back.
You're back? So what did you think?
The first time I read it, I thought, Blech. Another touchy feely dear son(s) post.
But this one was different. I read it again. It kept nagging at me.
Let's just get past the whole heavy handed I'm the world's greatest mom because we read Facebook together and the weirdness that she shamed girls for posting inappropriate pictures and yet she included topless photos of her young sons frolicking on the beach and flexing their muscles (AKA the boy "duck face"). She's since apologized and changed the pictures and reposted the whole thing. I'm not sure why she didn't just change the pics on the original post, but it doesn't matter now. I'm sure all of the hos at school are happy she left the original ab shots.
The pictures didn't bug me that much. What bugged me was that this post isn't really about her sons. It's really about the trashy little whores who keep throwing themselves at her precious snowflakes and insisting on sending half naked pictures to them. I can just imagine the whole Hall clan sitting around the dining room table scrolling through the computer together while the boys yell, My eyes, Mama, my eyes! Make her stop!
Now, let me just say right here, there are some things that she does that I like.
I like that she goes through her kids' social media with them. I've been very vocal about that. I will do that with Gomer and Adolpha. (I'm not sure we'll do it family- meetin' style around the dining room table, but it will get done.) I know there will be some things I'll never see, but I hope to find most of the dirt they're hiding. I also don't like the idea of little girls emailing provocative pictures to my sweet Gomer. I also think that young girls are way too sexualized and should knock that shit off and I'm already dreading the day I find a picture of Adolpha duck facing (and please let that be the worst picture I find). I've been accused of slut shaming before. I just do it better than Mrs. Hall.
The difference is, I intend to teach my daughter to not send ridiculous selfies with accidental nip slips while at the SAME TIME, I intend to teach my son not to be a fucking creeper.
"Boys, don't be jackholes. I don't care what a girl looks like or what she's wearing. I raised you better than that. Find something else to do rather than ogle her." That's all Mrs. Hall had to say and I would have let it go.
I think this post is highly offensive to young girls and especially any young girl who found herself blocked today by "The Hall Boys" (who when you say it like that sounds like a new ABC Family hit show) because of their smuttiness. What Mrs. Hall wrote was a slut-shaming post wrapped up in a sweet "Bless your heart, you little tramp" bow.
However, I think this post is even more offensive to the young men of the world, and especially The Hall Boys.
Because when I read this post, encouraging young women to cover up and stop tempting the boys all I could think was Can't your boys keep it zipped up, Mrs. Hall?
Seriously, when did teenage boys become so victimized? I had no idea. Is there a telethon I can donate to? Because apparently teenage boys are nothing but brainless blobs with erections who can't control themselves so they explode in their pants every time they see a girls' tight ass in a nighty. I didn't realize that teenage boys are like zombies, stumbling around looking for the next hot beef injection instead of braaaaiiiiins.
No, no, no! Boys cannot get off this easy. Moms of boys cannot get off this easy. We can't just put the blame on the girls and say, "Stop skanking around my precious innocent boy!" When we tell girls to cover up because boys can't handle themselves, there is something wrong.
Instead of always teaching our girls to cover up, why can't we teach our boys to treat girls with respect and to see them as human beings and not just as sexual objects? I know that's what I intend to do.
If you liked this follow me on Facebook and Twitter.
September 4, 2013
Every Move You Make. I'll Be Watching You.
We've all heard that it doesn't matter what we post on the internet, it just may come back to haunt you and yet we all continue to do it. Don't we?
I'm not talking about bloggers. I put my stuff out there because I WANT people to read it. I WANT them to be entertained by it. I'm talking about people who go to seemingly "private" places and then get caught.
I'm always amazed by the number of people who just put their dirt out there and never consider for a moment who just might see it.
Like me. I might see it.
Let me tell you a little something: I can see you. I can see everyone who links to me. It's called Google Analytics and it allows me to see where my blog traffic is coming from. Sometimes it's message boards. Sometimes I'll end up on BabyCenter or some place like that. Last week I ended up on a board called GymboFriends.
GymboFriends is a national message board for people who want to buy and sell Gymboree clothing to one another.
It's no secret that I like to lurk on message boards and it's no secret that I enjoy a good deal on Gymboree. Guess who belongs to GymboFriends? I haven't visited in months, but when I saw the hits coming from there, I decided to dust off my login and check out what was being said.
Typically, I find threads like, "This woman is a genius! Go read her now!" Not surprisingly, those are my favorites. However, more times than I care to admit, I find, "This woman is insane and should not be allowed to procreate. Go read her now!" Eh, either way they come and read me which makes me happy.
On GymboFriends I found something I've never seen before. A person who was actually threatening to bar me from speaking at an event that she was a part of. Now, I'm not offended so much by the attack. I love a good pearl-clutching-the-world-is-ending-party (hopefully with smelling salts for everyone in the goody bags!) as much as everyone else. I pop some popcorn, I put my feet up, and I watch the crazy fly. No, what offended me was the holier than thou bullshit this saintly woman spouted. There is nothing that pisses me off more than a Judgy Judy who trots out her sanctimonious shite and pulls the whole, "I'm not judgmental, but ... this woman is the devil" spiel. The only thing that would have made her diatribe worse would have been if she ended it with "Just sayin'" which we all know is the "fuck you" of the Internet. Instead she did some weird googly eyed thing I can't make out, but I assume it's a happy face with the vapors.
Here's what she wrote:
"A little background...I am the vice-president of our young mom's group at Church. I just got an email from the mom that is scheduling our couple events about the speaker she lined up for October. She told me she's a local blogger.
So, I googled her blog and I am honestly rather offended by the language used in the blog, and I'm thinking this might not be the most appropriate speaker to have for a couples night that will be taking place in our Church. I do have veto power over this, and I'm wanting opinions before I call the President this late at night.
This is a direct quote from her blog:
'So there is this bitch in Canada who lives near an older lady who takes care of her grandson in the summer time. The grandson is severely autistic and spends a lot of his time outside.
The bitchy neighbor can't stand listening to the autistic grandson make noises outside and so she took it upon herself to write an anonymous letter to the grandmother with some helpful suggestions of how to deal with the boy. Such as: take him to park, move away, and (this one is the doozy) euthanize him.
Yeah. This soulless cunt suggested the boy be killed. As in dead. As in murder this child because he's too noisy and annoying.
But just in case you think the bitch isn't caring, before his death she would like to harvest his "non retarded (her words, not mine) body parts" and donate them to science because "what the hell else good is he to anyone?" Here is a link where you can see the whole disgusting letter.' (http://www.peopleiwanttopunchinthethroat.com/)
Am I being a prude or is this incredibly inappropriate to take place in our Church with our Mom's group???
"
OK, I'll admit, it might seem a little odd that I was invited to speak at a church. However, hear me out. I was invited to speak at a couples' night and I was asked to bring some light-hearted humor to the group. I was going to tell some funny stories about parenting, motherhood, peeing alone, and husbands and then I was going to hawk some copies of I Just Want to Pee Alone afterwards. Lots of speakers address these kinds of groups. Many of the speakers talk about budgeting or child-rearing or other things that appeal to parents of children. They are excellent and effective speakers and they never address religion, even though it's a religious group they're speaking to.
The woman, Annie, who set it up knew exactly who I was and was confident that I could be funny and entertaining without offending her fellow church-goers. She felt like the overall message of I Just Want to Pee Alone resonates with all moms. The message of we're not alone and we all struggle through the daily ups and downs of parenting and we're all hoping that we're doing it right and that we might as well parent with humor, because the alternative sucks.
When Annie emailed me to book this event, it didn't occur to me that it could be a problem. I have many, many, many readers who attend church every Sunday. The Hubs and I attend on a regular basis. So, I have been to church and I know what it's all about. I don't pull my skirt over my head to scratch my ass or try and kiss the minister on the mouth. I'm very well-behaved when I want to be.
At this point I've been invited to speak at several different venues and I've managed to entertain the crowd without anyone fainting. I am an entertainment site. I am no different than a Rated-R movie. I've been to Rated-R movies with my church ladies and no one died. I'm Rated-R but I can be a Rated-G speaker if need be.
The word that really sent these GymboFriends over the edge was "cunt." It's not a word I use very often. I can think of two times on this blog that I've used it. It's a word I don't throw around lightly. I used it on this post because I was writing about a woman who had suggested her neighbor euthanize her autistic grandson. "Bitch" just didn't do it for me. I had to bring out the big guns. If this woman isn't a cunt then I don't know who is!
It is unfortunate that this is the post these women latched onto, but not surprising. Rather than dig a little deeper into my blog and see what I'm all about, it's much better to start a rally to veto my ass and ban me instead. If they would have poked around a bit more they might have found my post about Judgmental People Who Don't Think They're Judgmental. I doubt they would have recognized themselves though. Judgmental people rarely do. It's also not surprising that they decided to vilify me instead of, I don't know, THE WOMAN WHO WANTED TO EUTHANIZE HER AUTISTIC NEIGHBOR!
It didn't surprise me that this woman was offended by me and that she was second guessing my selection, but it did surprise me that she chose to air her grievances in a semi-public forum. She didn't pick up the phone and call her fellow board members (including Annie, who booked me) to say, "Hold on a sec, I'm not too sure about this. Can we talk about it?" Instead, she chose to go onto a website that had nothing to do with her church group and "ask" a simple question. Only, she wasn't asking a question. She wasn't looking for advice. She wanted to make sure that all of the women who read her thread lit their torches and joined her mob and egged her on.
Just look at some of the responses she got on there:
"I don't really care if she sensors herself perfectly, I don't want someone that speaks like that in our Church speaking to a group of young moms."
"I know many people know how to self-censor when necessary, but you have no way to know if she will, and she had plenty of time to censor her language while writing her blog, and chose not to. If that's her method of garnering attention for her views, then I would deem her an ineffective communicator."
"She may censor herself during the event, but she is not qualified to teach women in the church and I would not have her in any position of authority. I would welcome her to come and listen, though."
"Being able to have a very successful blog and speak publicly well to large groups of people are two different things. I don't know a whole lot about her, so she may do public speaking engagements regularly and be very good at it. 2) Her blog (and thus all I know about her professionally) has little to do with marriage and motherhood. She is married and a mother I presume, but that does not in and of itself qualify one to speak on the topic IMO.
Wow. Apparently I'm a barn animal (hee-haw) who can't control myself and just might blurt out "Thanks for having me, motherfuckers!" or pee on the pulpit or get drunk on the communion wine. You just never know what I might do.
Are you kidding me? Yes, I have a mouth on my blog, but I also raise two young children. Do they really think I can't censor myself? Do they think I'm yelling, "Come on Gomer, get your fucking backpack so we can get your ass to school!" What a bunch of idiots. The level of stupidity is overwhelming.
When you only read one post on my blog, I suppose it's easy to think that it has "little to do" with marriage and motherhood. Anyone who knows me knows that I actually write a lot about marriage and motherhood. Guess what else has a lot do with marriage and motherhood? I Just Want to Pee Alone. The book I was going to be speaking about. Hmmm. What do you know? It's like Annie knew that I could handle that topic with ease. Also if being a wife and a mother doesn't "qualify" me to speak on the the topic, then who is qualified to speak about being a wife and a mother?
What exactly do I need to do to be "qualified"? Watch my mouth? Pipe down? Yeah, that's not gonna happen. So I guess I'll never be qualified enough to attend a church group and tell some funny stories.
Come on, lady, don't hide behind that veil of perfection. Don't act like my blog made you shudder and quake just thinking about what all of the mommies who look up to you might think if you invited me into your house of worship. The horror!
After entertaining myself with this thread for a day, I started to worry about Annie. I didn't want her to get blindsided by little Ms. Pearl Clutcher, who was obviously going to flex her veto power. I decided to let her know what was happening on GymboFriends. When I told Annie about it, I encouraged her NOT to take the hit for me. I am not worth it. These are her friends. This is her church. If people are upset, then she should boot me.
Instead of staying quiet and watching me get vetoed, Annie went out in a blaze of glory. She fired off the most awesome and amazing resignation letter that I've ever seen. She brilliantly defended me and her decision to invite me to speak. I'm not going to share Annie's letter, because it's private (she didn't post it on a national message board), but let's just say there was a lot of "What would Jesus do with Jen?" and "Christianity. You're doing it wrong."
Ms. Pearl Clutcher got her way and got me banned. However, when a GymboFriends moderator realized she was speaking ill of me, a fellow GymboFriends member, Ms. Pearl Clutcher also almost got herself banned from GymboFriends, which is almost worse than being banned from church.
That lady better watch what she says about me on the Internet, because I'm always watching. Just sayin'.
If you liked this follow me on Facebook and Twitter.
I'm not talking about bloggers. I put my stuff out there because I WANT people to read it. I WANT them to be entertained by it. I'm talking about people who go to seemingly "private" places and then get caught.
I'm always amazed by the number of people who just put their dirt out there and never consider for a moment who just might see it.
Like me. I might see it.
Let me tell you a little something: I can see you. I can see everyone who links to me. It's called Google Analytics and it allows me to see where my blog traffic is coming from. Sometimes it's message boards. Sometimes I'll end up on BabyCenter or some place like that. Last week I ended up on a board called GymboFriends.
GymboFriends is a national message board for people who want to buy and sell Gymboree clothing to one another.
It's no secret that I like to lurk on message boards and it's no secret that I enjoy a good deal on Gymboree. Guess who belongs to GymboFriends? I haven't visited in months, but when I saw the hits coming from there, I decided to dust off my login and check out what was being said.
Typically, I find threads like, "This woman is a genius! Go read her now!" Not surprisingly, those are my favorites. However, more times than I care to admit, I find, "This woman is insane and should not be allowed to procreate. Go read her now!" Eh, either way they come and read me which makes me happy.
On GymboFriends I found something I've never seen before. A person who was actually threatening to bar me from speaking at an event that she was a part of. Now, I'm not offended so much by the attack. I love a good pearl-clutching-the-world-is-ending-party (hopefully with smelling salts for everyone in the goody bags!) as much as everyone else. I pop some popcorn, I put my feet up, and I watch the crazy fly. No, what offended me was the holier than thou bullshit this saintly woman spouted. There is nothing that pisses me off more than a Judgy Judy who trots out her sanctimonious shite and pulls the whole, "I'm not judgmental, but ... this woman is the devil" spiel. The only thing that would have made her diatribe worse would have been if she ended it with "Just sayin'" which we all know is the "fuck you" of the Internet. Instead she did some weird googly eyed thing I can't make out, but I assume it's a happy face with the vapors.
Here's what she wrote:
"A little background...I am the vice-president of our young mom's group at Church. I just got an email from the mom that is scheduling our couple events about the speaker she lined up for October. She told me she's a local blogger.
So, I googled her blog and I am honestly rather offended by the language used in the blog, and I'm thinking this might not be the most appropriate speaker to have for a couples night that will be taking place in our Church. I do have veto power over this, and I'm wanting opinions before I call the President this late at night.
This is a direct quote from her blog:
'So there is this bitch in Canada who lives near an older lady who takes care of her grandson in the summer time. The grandson is severely autistic and spends a lot of his time outside.
The bitchy neighbor can't stand listening to the autistic grandson make noises outside and so she took it upon herself to write an anonymous letter to the grandmother with some helpful suggestions of how to deal with the boy. Such as: take him to park, move away, and (this one is the doozy) euthanize him.
Yeah. This soulless cunt suggested the boy be killed. As in dead. As in murder this child because he's too noisy and annoying.
But just in case you think the bitch isn't caring, before his death she would like to harvest his "non retarded (her words, not mine) body parts" and donate them to science because "what the hell else good is he to anyone?" Here is a link where you can see the whole disgusting letter.' (http://www.peopleiwanttopunchinthethroat.com/)
Am I being a prude or is this incredibly inappropriate to take place in our Church with our Mom's group???
"OK, I'll admit, it might seem a little odd that I was invited to speak at a church. However, hear me out. I was invited to speak at a couples' night and I was asked to bring some light-hearted humor to the group. I was going to tell some funny stories about parenting, motherhood, peeing alone, and husbands and then I was going to hawk some copies of I Just Want to Pee Alone afterwards. Lots of speakers address these kinds of groups. Many of the speakers talk about budgeting or child-rearing or other things that appeal to parents of children. They are excellent and effective speakers and they never address religion, even though it's a religious group they're speaking to.
The woman, Annie, who set it up knew exactly who I was and was confident that I could be funny and entertaining without offending her fellow church-goers. She felt like the overall message of I Just Want to Pee Alone resonates with all moms. The message of we're not alone and we all struggle through the daily ups and downs of parenting and we're all hoping that we're doing it right and that we might as well parent with humor, because the alternative sucks.
When Annie emailed me to book this event, it didn't occur to me that it could be a problem. I have many, many, many readers who attend church every Sunday. The Hubs and I attend on a regular basis. So, I have been to church and I know what it's all about. I don't pull my skirt over my head to scratch my ass or try and kiss the minister on the mouth. I'm very well-behaved when I want to be.
At this point I've been invited to speak at several different venues and I've managed to entertain the crowd without anyone fainting. I am an entertainment site. I am no different than a Rated-R movie. I've been to Rated-R movies with my church ladies and no one died. I'm Rated-R but I can be a Rated-G speaker if need be.
The word that really sent these GymboFriends over the edge was "cunt." It's not a word I use very often. I can think of two times on this blog that I've used it. It's a word I don't throw around lightly. I used it on this post because I was writing about a woman who had suggested her neighbor euthanize her autistic grandson. "Bitch" just didn't do it for me. I had to bring out the big guns. If this woman isn't a cunt then I don't know who is!
It is unfortunate that this is the post these women latched onto, but not surprising. Rather than dig a little deeper into my blog and see what I'm all about, it's much better to start a rally to veto my ass and ban me instead. If they would have poked around a bit more they might have found my post about Judgmental People Who Don't Think They're Judgmental. I doubt they would have recognized themselves though. Judgmental people rarely do. It's also not surprising that they decided to vilify me instead of, I don't know, THE WOMAN WHO WANTED TO EUTHANIZE HER AUTISTIC NEIGHBOR!
It didn't surprise me that this woman was offended by me and that she was second guessing my selection, but it did surprise me that she chose to air her grievances in a semi-public forum. She didn't pick up the phone and call her fellow board members (including Annie, who booked me) to say, "Hold on a sec, I'm not too sure about this. Can we talk about it?" Instead, she chose to go onto a website that had nothing to do with her church group and "ask" a simple question. Only, she wasn't asking a question. She wasn't looking for advice. She wanted to make sure that all of the women who read her thread lit their torches and joined her mob and egged her on.
Just look at some of the responses she got on there:
"I don't really care if she sensors herself perfectly, I don't want someone that speaks like that in our Church speaking to a group of young moms."
"I know many people know how to self-censor when necessary, but you have no way to know if she will, and she had plenty of time to censor her language while writing her blog, and chose not to. If that's her method of garnering attention for her views, then I would deem her an ineffective communicator."
"She may censor herself during the event, but she is not qualified to teach women in the church and I would not have her in any position of authority. I would welcome her to come and listen, though."
"Being able to have a very successful blog and speak publicly well to large groups of people are two different things. I don't know a whole lot about her, so she may do public speaking engagements regularly and be very good at it. 2) Her blog (and thus all I know about her professionally) has little to do with marriage and motherhood. She is married and a mother I presume, but that does not in and of itself qualify one to speak on the topic IMO.
Wow. Apparently I'm a barn animal (hee-haw) who can't control myself and just might blurt out "Thanks for having me, motherfuckers!" or pee on the pulpit or get drunk on the communion wine. You just never know what I might do.
Are you kidding me? Yes, I have a mouth on my blog, but I also raise two young children. Do they really think I can't censor myself? Do they think I'm yelling, "Come on Gomer, get your fucking backpack so we can get your ass to school!" What a bunch of idiots. The level of stupidity is overwhelming.
When you only read one post on my blog, I suppose it's easy to think that it has "little to do" with marriage and motherhood. Anyone who knows me knows that I actually write a lot about marriage and motherhood. Guess what else has a lot do with marriage and motherhood? I Just Want to Pee Alone. The book I was going to be speaking about. Hmmm. What do you know? It's like Annie knew that I could handle that topic with ease. Also if being a wife and a mother doesn't "qualify" me to speak on the the topic, then who is qualified to speak about being a wife and a mother?
What exactly do I need to do to be "qualified"? Watch my mouth? Pipe down? Yeah, that's not gonna happen. So I guess I'll never be qualified enough to attend a church group and tell some funny stories.
Come on, lady, don't hide behind that veil of perfection. Don't act like my blog made you shudder and quake just thinking about what all of the mommies who look up to you might think if you invited me into your house of worship. The horror!
After entertaining myself with this thread for a day, I started to worry about Annie. I didn't want her to get blindsided by little Ms. Pearl Clutcher, who was obviously going to flex her veto power. I decided to let her know what was happening on GymboFriends. When I told Annie about it, I encouraged her NOT to take the hit for me. I am not worth it. These are her friends. This is her church. If people are upset, then she should boot me.
Instead of staying quiet and watching me get vetoed, Annie went out in a blaze of glory. She fired off the most awesome and amazing resignation letter that I've ever seen. She brilliantly defended me and her decision to invite me to speak. I'm not going to share Annie's letter, because it's private (she didn't post it on a national message board), but let's just say there was a lot of "What would Jesus do with Jen?" and "Christianity. You're doing it wrong."
Ms. Pearl Clutcher got her way and got me banned. However, when a GymboFriends moderator realized she was speaking ill of me, a fellow GymboFriends member, Ms. Pearl Clutcher also almost got herself banned from GymboFriends, which is almost worse than being banned from church.
That lady better watch what she says about me on the Internet, because I'm always watching. Just sayin'.
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September 3, 2013
My Pantry Makes Me Cry
For months (oh, who am I kidding? It's probably been a year now) my walk in pantry has been nagging the crap out of me. It's an absolute hole. I couldn't even get in the door to throw one more jumbo pack of spaghetti sauce in there. I'd like to blame my neglect on the fact that I've been working long hours on my next book, but it was actually a pit before I even started the manuscript.
It all came to a head the other night when I was sitting at Gomer's soccer practice and I got a random text from a number I didn't recognize, "Hi. Can I borrow a cup of flour?"
Say what? Am I on Leave it to Beaver? Or possibly a low-budget porn? (Don't pretend you've never seen that Skinamax episode where the sexy neighbor who enjoys baking in the nude needs a cup of sugar.)
I wrote back, "I'm sorry. I'm not sure who this is."
The reply came quickly, "Oh sorry. This is Betty. From next door."
Oh, so it wasn't a low-budget porn after all. I guess people really bake and really run out of ingredients and really call/text their neighbors for a cup of whatever. Who knew? Maybe I would if I baked more often.
I was going to be at the soccer fields for another hour or so, but the Hubs was home with Adolpha. I could tell Betty to just go over and ask the Hubs for a cup of flour.
Except ... my pantry.
I'm not normally concerned if anyone sees me at my worst, but my pantry is another thing. For some reason the state of my pantry really bothered me. Even worse, I couldn't guarantee my flour was weevil-free. I'm not a baker and my flour doesn't get the turn over it deserves, so it isn't always feeling its freshest.
The Hubs is so damn lazy he'd probably let Betty in and tell her to get the flour herself so he could get back to watching Real Housewives of New Jersey. I was petrified that the Hubs would let Betty try and wade through the jumbo boxes of Oreos and multi-pack jars of applesauce (yes, I do the bulk of my shopping at Sam's Club and Costco, go ahead and judge) in my pantry only to discover my container of flour had become the home to a family of overfed weevils.
Betty might be able to get in, but she would never be able to get out!
I couldn't take the chance.
I texted back, "Sorry, Betty, but I'm at the soccer fields. I could give you a call when I get home and bring you some flour." Meaning, I would stop at the grocery store on the way home and buy brand new flour so I could bring her a cup.
A little while later she wrote back, "Oh, don't worry. Reggie is going to the grocery store for me. Thanks anyway."
Phew. I dodged that bullet. But who knew when the next bullet would come? I had to tackle my pantry.
The next day I asked one of my favorite overachievers if she was on Pinterest.
"Why?" she asked.
Most people go to Google to search for answers to their problems. I go to Pinterest. Pinterest is an amazing resource of information and it's prettier to look at than Google.
"Because I need to organize my pantry and I wanted to look at your Pinterest account. I figured you'd have some good ideas."
"I don't have 'ideas', Jen. I have 'systems.'"
"OK. I need a 'system.' What's your Pinterest name?"
"I'm not on Pinterest, Jen. I'm busy making systems," she joked.
I spend a ridiculous amount of time on Pinterest. I usually pin funny things or I go down rabbit holes to blog posts that are supposed to teach me about SEO, but really just try and sell me a $3.99 e-book that will have all the "secrets."
While I troll around Pinterest I try not to shame spiral about how disorganized I am, how much I hate to work out, how poor my style is, and how damn hungry I am (I think I have at least three boards dedicated to food).
If my friend didn't have a Pinterest account, I would have to make due with stranger's advice. I got on and I started searching pantries.
Holy shit, you guys. There are a lot of people out there who have more money tied up in bins, baskets, and buckets in their pantries than I have in cars.
When I brought this fact to the attention of Facebook, my overachieving system making friend said, "Go to the Dollar Store." Brilliant. This is just one of the many reasons why I keep her around. She's always thinking, that one!
I took her advice and went to the Dollar Store, but the bins they had made me cry - even more than the state of my pantry. They were awful. I could smell the petroleum and the scent of the despair and hopelessness of the workers who made them. Also, they were hot pink and purple. That's really where I drew the line. I'm not a fashionista, but I just couldn't outfit my pantry in hot pink and purple bins!
I compromised and went to Wal-Mart where I could get something less offensive. Sure, they cost me ten times as much, but organizing is expensive, you guys. Systems don't come cheap. At least not in my house.
I got home and started cracking. I began by pulling every single thing out of my pantry.
"Oh, you're going to get started today?" the Hubs asked.
"Of course! Why not?" I replied.
"Because the day is half over. I'm sort of tired from shopping for those bins. Aren't you? I just thought maybe you'd do it next week."
"Nope! It's been bugging me for months. I'm going to get it done today!"
"OK ... because it's like one o'clock and tomorrow you'll be gone all day and then after that is the weekend and ..."
I knew what he was thinking. He thought I'd pull everything out and then let it sit on the counters for a week until I finally found time to throw it all back in there on the floor again.
I would show him!
I divided everything into piles on my counters and started going through expiration dates. I've lived in this house for 8 years. I had a muffin mix that was 10 years old. Yeah, that means I payed a moving company to ship it here so I could throw it away. (Please don't tell the Hubs. He just lectured me the other day, "Do you know what is the most expensive food we buy? The stuff you throw away!") I had a few cans that were all jacked up. They were collapsing in on themselves like a melting Wicked Witch of the West. I'm not sure exactly what that means, but it can't be good. Those got chucked too.
As I worked on my pantry I realized that MY pantry could be pin-worthy too. I could give advice just as easily as any other site out there. Sure, my site isn't called "Happy Homemaker" or "Happy Wife Happy Life" or "Systems Work" or even "Organize the Hell Out of Your House," but still I could be helpful.
Sorta.
So, Tip Number One: Throw out anything that is expired and/or threatening to explode.
I had to sneak three bags of expired food out to the garbage can before the Hubs could see me. When your husband wheels the trash can out to the curb and moans and groans about how much heavier it was than last week, just do what I did: pretended like he was getting older and weaker.
Tip Number Two: Get rid of random items that don't belong in the pantry.
For some reason, my pantry is becoming the giant junk drawer in our house. For example, I found a bottle of lotion (perfecting timing, I was just running low), a sippy cup lid (all of the sippy cups have been gone for years), several batteries (dead or alive is the question now), all of my Tupperwear that has been "missing" for a year, an extension cord, a sock, and two step stools (surely one is all I need in there).
Tip Number Three: Group like items together:
Paper products
Canned goods
Baking
Sauces
Pasta
Cereal
Snacks
Spices/seasonings/oils
Drinks
Tip Number Four: Fill your bins. Woohooo!
I bought two really big suckers. One is black and one is red. The black one I filled up with all of snack stuff that my kids can put in their lunches. They help me make lunches and this way they can grab something out of the bin. The other one is all of the snack stuff they can take to school for a snack or have after school. I know what you're thinking. Jen, aren't those the same stuff? No. They're not.
This is where you're going to see how weird and cheap I am. I buy individual applesauces or puddings or canned fruit for lunches only. Those suckers are expensive and I don't want my kids gobbling them down two at a time after school. And the school snack needs to be something they can eat without utensils. So, all of those are in one bin.
The other bin is full of granola bars, protein bars, 100 calorie snacks, etc. that they can have during snack time at school and at home.
It's weird, I know, but it's my system - go make your own!
Tip Number Five: Use your common sense.
Items that you don't use on a daily basis should go to the top shelves. I want my kids to help me and help themselves, so I moved the things that they eat on a regular basis to the lower shelves so they could reach.
For some reason, my cookbooks have always been in the prime real estate spot - eye level, just inside the door. That's ridiculous, because I never use my cookbooks. All of my recipes come from Pinterest. Duh. Those suckers got moved to the back.
And finally Tip Number Six: It will never look like the ah-may-zing pantries you see on Pinterest, but at least you can walk in the door.
Yeah, that's a chevron clothes hamper holding bags of chips. I'm an organizational genius and I'm finally coming around to liking chevron, so it must be time for it be passe.
I got cray-zee and put my soups by TYPE. I also put the bread WITH the PB&J! I know. Mind. Blown. Right?
Can we talk a minute about K-cups? I got a Keurig last year for Christmas and my dad went wild with ordering me K-cups. I finally put them all together in one spot. Holy crap. If you're ever at my house and I don't offer you a hot beverage, please be sure to ask for one, because as you can see I have plenty.
After rearranging and filling my bins I was on an organizational high. Even my kids got excited. "Gomer! Look! You can see the floor!" Adolpha exclaimed.
I gave the family a tour of my new, beautiful pantry and I threatened them all within inches of their lives to leave it that way.
We're on day two of my new and improved pantry and so far, so good. However, I'm not taking anymore chances. I'm heading out today to buy a padlock for the door. It's the only way it will stay this way.
Pin this sucker, because it could save lives.
(Psst ... Now is the time to pin this post. If you've never pinned anything in your life, this is the time to do it. Open a Pinterest account and pin this so that every overachieving underachiever in the world can benefit from the knowledge.)
Follow me on Facebook and Twitter.
It all came to a head the other night when I was sitting at Gomer's soccer practice and I got a random text from a number I didn't recognize, "Hi. Can I borrow a cup of flour?"
Say what? Am I on Leave it to Beaver? Or possibly a low-budget porn? (Don't pretend you've never seen that Skinamax episode where the sexy neighbor who enjoys baking in the nude needs a cup of sugar.)
I wrote back, "I'm sorry. I'm not sure who this is."
The reply came quickly, "Oh sorry. This is Betty. From next door."
Oh, so it wasn't a low-budget porn after all. I guess people really bake and really run out of ingredients and really call/text their neighbors for a cup of whatever. Who knew? Maybe I would if I baked more often.
I was going to be at the soccer fields for another hour or so, but the Hubs was home with Adolpha. I could tell Betty to just go over and ask the Hubs for a cup of flour.
Except ... my pantry.
I'm not normally concerned if anyone sees me at my worst, but my pantry is another thing. For some reason the state of my pantry really bothered me. Even worse, I couldn't guarantee my flour was weevil-free. I'm not a baker and my flour doesn't get the turn over it deserves, so it isn't always feeling its freshest.
The Hubs is so damn lazy he'd probably let Betty in and tell her to get the flour herself so he could get back to watching Real Housewives of New Jersey. I was petrified that the Hubs would let Betty try and wade through the jumbo boxes of Oreos and multi-pack jars of applesauce (yes, I do the bulk of my shopping at Sam's Club and Costco, go ahead and judge) in my pantry only to discover my container of flour had become the home to a family of overfed weevils.
Betty might be able to get in, but she would never be able to get out!
I couldn't take the chance.
I texted back, "Sorry, Betty, but I'm at the soccer fields. I could give you a call when I get home and bring you some flour." Meaning, I would stop at the grocery store on the way home and buy brand new flour so I could bring her a cup.
A little while later she wrote back, "Oh, don't worry. Reggie is going to the grocery store for me. Thanks anyway."
Phew. I dodged that bullet. But who knew when the next bullet would come? I had to tackle my pantry.
The next day I asked one of my favorite overachievers if she was on Pinterest.
"Why?" she asked.
Most people go to Google to search for answers to their problems. I go to Pinterest. Pinterest is an amazing resource of information and it's prettier to look at than Google.
"Because I need to organize my pantry and I wanted to look at your Pinterest account. I figured you'd have some good ideas."
"I don't have 'ideas', Jen. I have 'systems.'"
"OK. I need a 'system.' What's your Pinterest name?"
"I'm not on Pinterest, Jen. I'm busy making systems," she joked.
I spend a ridiculous amount of time on Pinterest. I usually pin funny things or I go down rabbit holes to blog posts that are supposed to teach me about SEO, but really just try and sell me a $3.99 e-book that will have all the "secrets."
While I troll around Pinterest I try not to shame spiral about how disorganized I am, how much I hate to work out, how poor my style is, and how damn hungry I am (I think I have at least three boards dedicated to food).
If my friend didn't have a Pinterest account, I would have to make due with stranger's advice. I got on and I started searching pantries.
Holy shit, you guys. There are a lot of people out there who have more money tied up in bins, baskets, and buckets in their pantries than I have in cars.
When I brought this fact to the attention of Facebook, my overachieving system making friend said, "Go to the Dollar Store." Brilliant. This is just one of the many reasons why I keep her around. She's always thinking, that one!
I took her advice and went to the Dollar Store, but the bins they had made me cry - even more than the state of my pantry. They were awful. I could smell the petroleum and the scent of the despair and hopelessness of the workers who made them. Also, they were hot pink and purple. That's really where I drew the line. I'm not a fashionista, but I just couldn't outfit my pantry in hot pink and purple bins!
I compromised and went to Wal-Mart where I could get something less offensive. Sure, they cost me ten times as much, but organizing is expensive, you guys. Systems don't come cheap. At least not in my house.
I got home and started cracking. I began by pulling every single thing out of my pantry.
"Oh, you're going to get started today?" the Hubs asked.
"Of course! Why not?" I replied.
"Because the day is half over. I'm sort of tired from shopping for those bins. Aren't you? I just thought maybe you'd do it next week."
"Nope! It's been bugging me for months. I'm going to get it done today!"
"OK ... because it's like one o'clock and tomorrow you'll be gone all day and then after that is the weekend and ..."
I knew what he was thinking. He thought I'd pull everything out and then let it sit on the counters for a week until I finally found time to throw it all back in there on the floor again.
I would show him!
I divided everything into piles on my counters and started going through expiration dates. I've lived in this house for 8 years. I had a muffin mix that was 10 years old. Yeah, that means I payed a moving company to ship it here so I could throw it away. (Please don't tell the Hubs. He just lectured me the other day, "Do you know what is the most expensive food we buy? The stuff you throw away!") I had a few cans that were all jacked up. They were collapsing in on themselves like a melting Wicked Witch of the West. I'm not sure exactly what that means, but it can't be good. Those got chucked too.
As I worked on my pantry I realized that MY pantry could be pin-worthy too. I could give advice just as easily as any other site out there. Sure, my site isn't called "Happy Homemaker" or "Happy Wife Happy Life" or "Systems Work" or even "Organize the Hell Out of Your House," but still I could be helpful.
Sorta.
So, Tip Number One: Throw out anything that is expired and/or threatening to explode.
I had to sneak three bags of expired food out to the garbage can before the Hubs could see me. When your husband wheels the trash can out to the curb and moans and groans about how much heavier it was than last week, just do what I did: pretended like he was getting older and weaker.
Tip Number Two: Get rid of random items that don't belong in the pantry.
For some reason, my pantry is becoming the giant junk drawer in our house. For example, I found a bottle of lotion (perfecting timing, I was just running low), a sippy cup lid (all of the sippy cups have been gone for years), several batteries (dead or alive is the question now), all of my Tupperwear that has been "missing" for a year, an extension cord, a sock, and two step stools (surely one is all I need in there).
Tip Number Three: Group like items together:
Paper products
Canned goods
Baking
Sauces
Pasta
Cereal
Snacks
Spices/seasonings/oils
Drinks
Tip Number Four: Fill your bins. Woohooo!
I bought two really big suckers. One is black and one is red. The black one I filled up with all of snack stuff that my kids can put in their lunches. They help me make lunches and this way they can grab something out of the bin. The other one is all of the snack stuff they can take to school for a snack or have after school. I know what you're thinking. Jen, aren't those the same stuff? No. They're not.
This is where you're going to see how weird and cheap I am. I buy individual applesauces or puddings or canned fruit for lunches only. Those suckers are expensive and I don't want my kids gobbling them down two at a time after school. And the school snack needs to be something they can eat without utensils. So, all of those are in one bin.
The other bin is full of granola bars, protein bars, 100 calorie snacks, etc. that they can have during snack time at school and at home.
It's weird, I know, but it's my system - go make your own!
Tip Number Five: Use your common sense.
Items that you don't use on a daily basis should go to the top shelves. I want my kids to help me and help themselves, so I moved the things that they eat on a regular basis to the lower shelves so they could reach.
For some reason, my cookbooks have always been in the prime real estate spot - eye level, just inside the door. That's ridiculous, because I never use my cookbooks. All of my recipes come from Pinterest. Duh. Those suckers got moved to the back.
And finally Tip Number Six: It will never look like the ah-may-zing pantries you see on Pinterest, but at least you can walk in the door.
Yeah, that's a chevron clothes hamper holding bags of chips. I'm an organizational genius and I'm finally coming around to liking chevron, so it must be time for it be passe.
I got cray-zee and put my soups by TYPE. I also put the bread WITH the PB&J! I know. Mind. Blown. Right?
Can we talk a minute about K-cups? I got a Keurig last year for Christmas and my dad went wild with ordering me K-cups. I finally put them all together in one spot. Holy crap. If you're ever at my house and I don't offer you a hot beverage, please be sure to ask for one, because as you can see I have plenty.
After rearranging and filling my bins I was on an organizational high. Even my kids got excited. "Gomer! Look! You can see the floor!" Adolpha exclaimed.
I gave the family a tour of my new, beautiful pantry and I threatened them all within inches of their lives to leave it that way.
We're on day two of my new and improved pantry and so far, so good. However, I'm not taking anymore chances. I'm heading out today to buy a padlock for the door. It's the only way it will stay this way.
Pin this sucker, because it could save lives.
(Psst ... Now is the time to pin this post. If you've never pinned anything in your life, this is the time to do it. Open a Pinterest account and pin this so that every overachieving underachiever in the world can benefit from the knowledge.)
Follow me on Facebook and Twitter.
August 29, 2013
Stacey Dean Rambold and The Dishonorable Judge G. Todd Baugh
Have you heard about the Montana teacher who raped his student (which probably led to her suicide) and then got a 30 DAY sentence?
Yeah, that happened this week.
Let me bring you up to speed: A 49-year-old teacher, Stacey Dean Rambold, had a sexual relationship with his 14-year-old student. According to him it was "consensual." Whatever. She was fourteen! He was forty-nine! In my book, that situation can never be "consensual." That's rape. That's manipulation. That's disgusting.
Obviously this young girl was troubled and needed professional help. Obviously her behavior was a cry for attention and an effort to get someone to notice her and help her. Instead, she found a predator who took advantage of her and used her.
Stacey Dean Rambold is the worst kind of human being. He's a teacher who is supposed to HELP kids like this girl, not rape them!! He can cry "consensual" all he wants, but I don't care if she stood naked in front of him, he should have kept it in his damn pants and called her parents! There is no way a 14-year-old girl in her right mind would choose to have sex with a skeezy 49-year-old. This guy is a pervert and a child molester.
The school found out that they were having sex and Mr. Rambold resigned. I find this part interesting too. He "resigned." Really? The school couldn't fire his ass before he had the chance to resign??
If it wasn't already bad enough, after charges were filed against the guy his victim killed herself. Yes, this young girl committed suicide just before she turned seventeen. Can you tell me this wasn't related to her treatment by Mr. Rambold?
Then, just when you think things couldn't possibly worse, Judge G. Todd Baugh reduced Mr. Rambold's sentence to 30 days. THIRTY DAYS!!!
The defense had asked for 20 years and the judge sentenced Rambold to 15 years in prison, but then decided 30 days was plenty. He really thought 31 was good, but gave him credit for the one day he'd already spent in jail. That is absolute insanity!!
The judge felt that the girl was "chronologically older than her years." Whatever the fuck that means.
He also said that although this was "rape" it wasn't the "violent, horrible rape" you typically think of.
Are you kidding me? The girl killed herself because the experience was so violent and horrible. She might not have had physical marks, but that doesn't make her less of a victim.
I watched a video clip of Dr. Drew Pinsky commenting on this story.
I watched the clip where he said this and I could see his rage and his anger boiling just under the surface. I could see him fighting to say everything he wanted to say, but couldn't because the FCC regulates news programs.
Well, Dr. Drew, allow me:
Motherfuckersonofabitchareyoufuckingkiddingme??!!
Stacey Dean Rambold is the worst kind of human being and an idiot of a judge gave him 30 days when really he should have gone medieval on his ass. The words castrated, drawn and quartered come to mind readily. This man is a predator who stalks children and preys on the weaknesses of others.
And what about the judge, G. Todd Baugh? Can you believe that?
What is wrong with this judge? How can he ever begin to think that sentence is fair? How can he possibly explain how this punishment even remotely fits the crime?
Apology NOT accepted
He can't. Nothing he could say would make me understand. This isn't the first time he's made an objectionable ruling. I don't know what he's thinking. His ruling is actually worse than the actions of Rambold.
Can you imagine being the mother of the dead girl? First you find out that a teacher has molested your daughter, then your daughter kills herself and so you think, Well, at least justice will be served. At least this guy will pay for his actions and then you hear the sentence?
That poor mother can't even get justice for her dead daughter. She's been denied any sense of peace she might find in knowing that her daughter's rapist will be locked up for 15 years. Instead, he received a slap on the hand (barely) and will be out in the world in a month.
That is so infuriating.
This judge (who has since apologized for his word choice, but not his sentence) is someone who makes me want to scream. This is just another example of old men thinking they understand women and rape. I do not need a bruise under my eye to show that I've been violated, you dumb son of a bitch. A 14-year-old girl who dresses and behaves in a mature manner is not in a consensual sexual relationship with her teacher, she's a victim and she needs help. This isn't a couple of high school kids getting it on under the bleachers during study hall. This is a TEACHER who gained this young girl's trust and then abused her at his leisure.
Cases like these make me lose faith in our justice system. We're better than this.
If you're as mad as I am, you might like to sign this petition asking Judge G. Todd Baugh to resign.
Follow me on Facebook and Twitter.
Yeah, that happened this week.
Let me bring you up to speed: A 49-year-old teacher, Stacey Dean Rambold, had a sexual relationship with his 14-year-old student. According to him it was "consensual." Whatever. She was fourteen! He was forty-nine! In my book, that situation can never be "consensual." That's rape. That's manipulation. That's disgusting.
Obviously this young girl was troubled and needed professional help. Obviously her behavior was a cry for attention and an effort to get someone to notice her and help her. Instead, she found a predator who took advantage of her and used her.
Stacey Dean Rambold is the worst kind of human being. He's a teacher who is supposed to HELP kids like this girl, not rape them!! He can cry "consensual" all he wants, but I don't care if she stood naked in front of him, he should have kept it in his damn pants and called her parents! There is no way a 14-year-old girl in her right mind would choose to have sex with a skeezy 49-year-old. This guy is a pervert and a child molester.
The school found out that they were having sex and Mr. Rambold resigned. I find this part interesting too. He "resigned." Really? The school couldn't fire his ass before he had the chance to resign??
If it wasn't already bad enough, after charges were filed against the guy his victim killed herself. Yes, this young girl committed suicide just before she turned seventeen. Can you tell me this wasn't related to her treatment by Mr. Rambold?
Then, just when you think things couldn't possibly worse, Judge G. Todd Baugh reduced Mr. Rambold's sentence to 30 days. THIRTY DAYS!!!
The defense had asked for 20 years and the judge sentenced Rambold to 15 years in prison, but then decided 30 days was plenty. He really thought 31 was good, but gave him credit for the one day he'd already spent in jail. That is absolute insanity!!
The judge felt that the girl was "chronologically older than her years." Whatever the fuck that means.
He also said that although this was "rape" it wasn't the "violent, horrible rape" you typically think of.
Are you kidding me? The girl killed herself because the experience was so violent and horrible. She might not have had physical marks, but that doesn't make her less of a victim.
I watched a video clip of Dr. Drew Pinsky commenting on this story.
Dr. Drew Pinsky said, “There’s a reason we have laws in place protecting young people. Their brain development isn’t such that they can render consent for something like sex. And for a judge to say that a 14-year-old to consent to this … It is outlandish in a way that I cannot describe.”
“There’s no such thing as someone being older than her chronological age who can magically have a brain of a 21-year-old,” Pinsky continued. “She may have behaved in a way that was inappropriate, but guess what? That’s a sign of mental illness. Those are the people we need to protect the most.”
I watched the clip where he said this and I could see his rage and his anger boiling just under the surface. I could see him fighting to say everything he wanted to say, but couldn't because the FCC regulates news programs.
Well, Dr. Drew, allow me:
Motherfuckersonofabitchareyoufuckingkiddingme??!!
Stacey Dean Rambold is the worst kind of human being and an idiot of a judge gave him 30 days when really he should have gone medieval on his ass. The words castrated, drawn and quartered come to mind readily. This man is a predator who stalks children and preys on the weaknesses of others.
And what about the judge, G. Todd Baugh? Can you believe that?
What is wrong with this judge? How can he ever begin to think that sentence is fair? How can he possibly explain how this punishment even remotely fits the crime?
Apology NOT accepted
He can't. Nothing he could say would make me understand. This isn't the first time he's made an objectionable ruling. I don't know what he's thinking. His ruling is actually worse than the actions of Rambold.
Can you imagine being the mother of the dead girl? First you find out that a teacher has molested your daughter, then your daughter kills herself and so you think, Well, at least justice will be served. At least this guy will pay for his actions and then you hear the sentence?
That poor mother can't even get justice for her dead daughter. She's been denied any sense of peace she might find in knowing that her daughter's rapist will be locked up for 15 years. Instead, he received a slap on the hand (barely) and will be out in the world in a month.
That is so infuriating.
This judge (who has since apologized for his word choice, but not his sentence) is someone who makes me want to scream. This is just another example of old men thinking they understand women and rape. I do not need a bruise under my eye to show that I've been violated, you dumb son of a bitch. A 14-year-old girl who dresses and behaves in a mature manner is not in a consensual sexual relationship with her teacher, she's a victim and she needs help. This isn't a couple of high school kids getting it on under the bleachers during study hall. This is a TEACHER who gained this young girl's trust and then abused her at his leisure.
Cases like these make me lose faith in our justice system. We're better than this.
If you're as mad as I am, you might like to sign this petition asking Judge G. Todd Baugh to resign.
Follow me on Facebook and Twitter.
August 28, 2013
The Snotsucker
You know how much I love ridiculous products, right? Like the Binsi Birthing Skirt. Remember that one? Practical enough to push a bowling ball out of out of your vagina while still looking cute during your birth experience and/or a trip to Target. Also, it was wrinkle free, because that's important too, you guys.
Or the Facekini? Those creepy face masks women in China are wearing to prevent their faces from tanning? I'm all for preventing skin cancer, but those suckers are just plain terrifying. I never want to go to the beach in China.
Well, today a reader emailed me about a new weird product. Today I learned about The NoseFrida Snotsucker. Does it sound revolting? Because it is.
The Snotsucker is a handy product that "every mom should have" says some know it all baby site. That is if you don't mind sucking snot out of your kid's nose with your mouth. Yeah, you read that right. It says suck snot with your mouth. Go ahead and get your visual and then go throw up for a little bit, I'll be here when you get back.
OK so, this thing is a syringe that you stick up your kid's nose and then you put the attached tube in your mouth and you suck. I know what you're wondering. Where does the snot go when I suck it, Jen? Well, it goes into this little syringe that is attached to the tube that you suck, but luckily, there is a small piece of foam of something that some how prevents your kid's slimy boogers from going down your throat.
I'm not an engineer, I don't know how that shit works, but I know it looks a bit flimsy and I don't see how it could possibly work. Have you seen the goo that comes out of kids? That crap can be hardcore. A little foamy thing might not do the job if your kid has a serious head cold.
And let's just assume that it never fails and you never end up with a load of mucus in your mouth, I still don't think I could bring myself to suck that tube. My brain and my gag reflex would be going nuts. Plus, I'm not the most mechanically inclined person, I just know I'd do something wrong and I'd end up with a mouthful of snot.
And can talk for a minute about the visual? I understand that those bulb syringes that we all use are a haven of filth and this can be washed and cleaned, etc. etc. but the bulb syringes aren't see through. This thing is clear. Not only am I slurping snot rockets, but I have to see them too? I get to see those bright green loogies making their way into the syringe? No thank you. If the idea of sucking phlegm out of a human being didn't make me vomit, seeing it would surely do the trick.
And then what? What happens if I accidentally vomit into the attached tube? Does my puke get stopped by the little flimsy foamy thing or does it go up my child's nose?
And why do we have to suck? Why can't we have a squeezy bulb thingy on the end that would do the sucking for us? Who thought sucking was the right idea? Again, I'm not an engineer, but weren't there other ideas that were put forth? Surely, there was a woman at the table who said, "Uh fellas, I know you guys never see the downside to a woman sucking anything, but maybe we could try some other ways too?"
Let's just say it's a good thing my kids are old enough to blow their own noses now, because I couldn't buy one of these things. Because I'm a moron who would probably operate it incorrectly to begin with, then I'd finally figure it out, hit green gold, which would then trigger me to throw up, which would then go back into my child's nose and then I'd have to suck vomit and snot out with my mouth, which would guarantee me repeating the whole process again. Rinse and repeat.
I'll give the good people at NoseFrida this, they know it's kind of wacky. Even on their site it says "It's maybe a little strange."
Maybe?
No, NoseFrida, it's really strange.
UPDATE: OK, there are some hard core Snotsucker Lovers out there and after reading all of the comments on here, I've decided to reverse my decision on this product. You guys have convinced me. This DOES sound like an amazing and miraculous product and I need to go and buy one immediately. I don't have babies anymore who can benefit, but I think there is a whole market being overlooked: snot nosed elementary school aged kids. I'm going to buy one and teach my kids how to suck their own noses!
Want some more funny stuff? Follow me on Facebook and Twitter.
Want to buy a NoseFrida? Go ahead, I don't care, they didn't pay for this post.
Or the Facekini? Those creepy face masks women in China are wearing to prevent their faces from tanning? I'm all for preventing skin cancer, but those suckers are just plain terrifying. I never want to go to the beach in China.
Well, today a reader emailed me about a new weird product. Today I learned about The NoseFrida Snotsucker. Does it sound revolting? Because it is.
The Snotsucker is a handy product that "every mom should have" says some know it all baby site. That is if you don't mind sucking snot out of your kid's nose with your mouth. Yeah, you read that right. It says suck snot with your mouth. Go ahead and get your visual and then go throw up for a little bit, I'll be here when you get back.
OK so, this thing is a syringe that you stick up your kid's nose and then you put the attached tube in your mouth and you suck. I know what you're wondering. Where does the snot go when I suck it, Jen? Well, it goes into this little syringe that is attached to the tube that you suck, but luckily, there is a small piece of foam of something that some how prevents your kid's slimy boogers from going down your throat.
I'm not an engineer, I don't know how that shit works, but I know it looks a bit flimsy and I don't see how it could possibly work. Have you seen the goo that comes out of kids? That crap can be hardcore. A little foamy thing might not do the job if your kid has a serious head cold.
And let's just assume that it never fails and you never end up with a load of mucus in your mouth, I still don't think I could bring myself to suck that tube. My brain and my gag reflex would be going nuts. Plus, I'm not the most mechanically inclined person, I just know I'd do something wrong and I'd end up with a mouthful of snot.
And can talk for a minute about the visual? I understand that those bulb syringes that we all use are a haven of filth and this can be washed and cleaned, etc. etc. but the bulb syringes aren't see through. This thing is clear. Not only am I slurping snot rockets, but I have to see them too? I get to see those bright green loogies making their way into the syringe? No thank you. If the idea of sucking phlegm out of a human being didn't make me vomit, seeing it would surely do the trick.
And then what? What happens if I accidentally vomit into the attached tube? Does my puke get stopped by the little flimsy foamy thing or does it go up my child's nose?
And why do we have to suck? Why can't we have a squeezy bulb thingy on the end that would do the sucking for us? Who thought sucking was the right idea? Again, I'm not an engineer, but weren't there other ideas that were put forth? Surely, there was a woman at the table who said, "Uh fellas, I know you guys never see the downside to a woman sucking anything, but maybe we could try some other ways too?"
Let's just say it's a good thing my kids are old enough to blow their own noses now, because I couldn't buy one of these things. Because I'm a moron who would probably operate it incorrectly to begin with, then I'd finally figure it out, hit green gold, which would then trigger me to throw up, which would then go back into my child's nose and then I'd have to suck vomit and snot out with my mouth, which would guarantee me repeating the whole process again. Rinse and repeat.
I'll give the good people at NoseFrida this, they know it's kind of wacky. Even on their site it says "It's maybe a little strange."
Maybe?
No, NoseFrida, it's really strange.
UPDATE: OK, there are some hard core Snotsucker Lovers out there and after reading all of the comments on here, I've decided to reverse my decision on this product. You guys have convinced me. This DOES sound like an amazing and miraculous product and I need to go and buy one immediately. I don't have babies anymore who can benefit, but I think there is a whole market being overlooked: snot nosed elementary school aged kids. I'm going to buy one and teach my kids how to suck their own noses!
Want some more funny stuff? Follow me on Facebook and Twitter.
Want to buy a NoseFrida? Go ahead, I don't care, they didn't pay for this post.
August 26, 2013
Miley Cyrus and Her Foam Finger
I didn't watch the MTV Awards last night. I'm a forty plus woman living in suburbia. I'm not really their demographic. However, I didn't have to watch the show in order to know that Miley Cyrus skanked it up pretty good. (Don't even bother leaving me a comment about how I'm slut shaming, I honestly don't care. I stand by my calling her a skank.)
After being alerted by the Internet that Miley had done something HORRIBLE and I needed to stop everything I was doing and watch right now, I watched the video of her bizarre dance with teddy bears. I thought to myself, OK, that's really weird, but what do I know? Plus, what's the deal with the tongue? Is that hot? And I have to mention those giant teddy bears again. What gives? Is she a furvert now?
And then, I watched her strip down to flesh colored undies and then bend over for that douche Robin Thicke (don't even get me started on why I can't stand him, but he looked like a dirty old man last night - and a little bit like Beetlejuice).
When Miley wasn't sticking her ass in Robin's crotch, she was fondling herself with a large foam finger.
OK, seriously, WTF, Miley? Are you high? Are you drunk? Are you an idiot? Which one?
After watching her make a total ass of herself I went looking for her parents, Tish and Billy Ray, because I pretty much blame them for unleashing Miley on the world. Lucky for me, my kids were too young to get hooked on Hannah Montana, but I saw enough of the shitty clothes on everyone else's kid that I instantly hated her and her parents. We all know, her parents are the ones to really blame. Let's face it, that child did not wake up one morning and say, "Daddy, give me the keys to your truck, because I'm going to go and make an album." Someone had to drive her to the studio and someone had to convince the powers that be that Miley could be a hit. Someone had to let her pose in a sheet when she was 15. I'm looking at you, Billy Ray. When your mullet was too much for us to bear, you turned your attentions on your little girl so you could live vicariously through her and you ruined it for the rest of us.
So of course she's acting this at 20 years old.
I'm also completely confused by her "engagement." Really? I saw Liam Hemsworth on a talk show the other day and he seemed so normal. Sure, he was a little boring, but not insane. I fully expected Miley's fiance to be insane. Who else would put up with her ridiculous shit? What did he say to her after last night's performance? "You looked, hot, babe. Bring that foam finger home tonight - oh, and a bear suit."?? How could he look her in the eye after that and say, "You did good."??
I'm not surprised she did it, I'm just disappointed. I always have such high hopes for the young women in Hollywood. I always hope that they don't self destruct in front of millions. I'm not a terrible person, I really feel bad for these girls. I once rooted for Lindsay Lohan and Amanda Bynes too, but there's only so much that you can put up with.
It's going to sound weird, but I feel like Miley has hit that point that my eight-year-old has hit. When he was four and five and six he could get away with stupid, outrageous behavior because he was still young and cute and naive. Now at eight, he's lost his baby face and his adorable toothless smile that he used to flash when he wanted to get away with murder. Now that he's eight, he gets the whole, "You know better. You're too old to act like that!" I feel the same way about Miley. When she posed in a sheet at 15 I could convince myself that she was duped and taken advantage of. Now that she's 20, her shit isn't cute anymore, it's just embarrassing and tired.
You know it's too much when the Will Smith clan looks at you like this:
Source: Twitter
Their son is dating a Kardashian and they think Miley is outrageous!
If you liked this follow me on Facebook and Twitter!
After being alerted by the Internet that Miley had done something HORRIBLE and I needed to stop everything I was doing and watch right now, I watched the video of her bizarre dance with teddy bears. I thought to myself, OK, that's really weird, but what do I know? Plus, what's the deal with the tongue? Is that hot? And I have to mention those giant teddy bears again. What gives? Is she a furvert now?
And then, I watched her strip down to flesh colored undies and then bend over for that douche Robin Thicke (don't even get me started on why I can't stand him, but he looked like a dirty old man last night - and a little bit like Beetlejuice).
When Miley wasn't sticking her ass in Robin's crotch, she was fondling herself with a large foam finger.
OK, seriously, WTF, Miley? Are you high? Are you drunk? Are you an idiot? Which one?
After watching her make a total ass of herself I went looking for her parents, Tish and Billy Ray, because I pretty much blame them for unleashing Miley on the world. Lucky for me, my kids were too young to get hooked on Hannah Montana, but I saw enough of the shitty clothes on everyone else's kid that I instantly hated her and her parents. We all know, her parents are the ones to really blame. Let's face it, that child did not wake up one morning and say, "Daddy, give me the keys to your truck, because I'm going to go and make an album." Someone had to drive her to the studio and someone had to convince the powers that be that Miley could be a hit. Someone had to let her pose in a sheet when she was 15. I'm looking at you, Billy Ray. When your mullet was too much for us to bear, you turned your attentions on your little girl so you could live vicariously through her and you ruined it for the rest of us.
So of course she's acting this at 20 years old.
I'm also completely confused by her "engagement." Really? I saw Liam Hemsworth on a talk show the other day and he seemed so normal. Sure, he was a little boring, but not insane. I fully expected Miley's fiance to be insane. Who else would put up with her ridiculous shit? What did he say to her after last night's performance? "You looked, hot, babe. Bring that foam finger home tonight - oh, and a bear suit."?? How could he look her in the eye after that and say, "You did good."??
I'm not surprised she did it, I'm just disappointed. I always have such high hopes for the young women in Hollywood. I always hope that they don't self destruct in front of millions. I'm not a terrible person, I really feel bad for these girls. I once rooted for Lindsay Lohan and Amanda Bynes too, but there's only so much that you can put up with.
It's going to sound weird, but I feel like Miley has hit that point that my eight-year-old has hit. When he was four and five and six he could get away with stupid, outrageous behavior because he was still young and cute and naive. Now at eight, he's lost his baby face and his adorable toothless smile that he used to flash when he wanted to get away with murder. Now that he's eight, he gets the whole, "You know better. You're too old to act like that!" I feel the same way about Miley. When she posed in a sheet at 15 I could convince myself that she was duped and taken advantage of. Now that she's 20, her shit isn't cute anymore, it's just embarrassing and tired.
You know it's too much when the Will Smith clan looks at you like this:
Source: Twitter
Their son is dating a Kardashian and they think Miley is outrageous!
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August 19, 2013
The Neighbor Who Wants to Euthanize the Autistic Boy Down the Street
Are you sitting down? Because this one is a doozy.
So there is this bitch in Canada who lives near an older lady who takes care of her grandson in the summer time. The grandson is severely autistic and spends a lot of his time outside.
The bitchy neighbor can't stand listening to the autistic grandson make noises outside and so she took it upon herself to write an anonymous letter to the grandmother with some helpful suggestions of how to deal with the boy. Such as: take him to park, move away, and (this one is the doozy) euthanize him.
Yeah. This soulless cunt suggested the boy be killed. As in dead. As in murder this child because he's too noisy and annoying.
But just in case you think the bitch isn't caring, before his death she would like to harvest his "non retarded (her words, not mine) body parts" and donate them to science because "what the hell else good is he to anyone?" Here is a link where you can see the whole disgusting letter.
My head is spinning after reading this fucked up tirade. Are you kidding me? Can you believe that? Can you believe that there is someone out there who is so fucking ignorant and horrid? This world is full of so many fucked up people. I get emails from people asking me why I'm so angry all of the time. It's people like this woman who make me angry all the time. Just knowing this woman is out there spouting her awful bullshit makes me furious.
I don't have a child with special needs, but if I did and I received this letter, I would probably burn down my neighborhood. That's how angry I am right now.
I just find it so disgusting and appalling that anyone would write this letter. What the fuck is wrong with people that they would actually suggest a child be euthanized?? I can only hope that this woman is too stupid to actually know what that word means.
This letter was signed by "One pissed off mother." No! She cannot call herself that. I am a pissed off mother at times. You are a pissed off mother at times. But we pissed off mothers would NEVER EVER EVER suggest someone euthanize their child.
I feel terrible for the family who received this typewritten letter. I can't imagine how upsetting it must have been. The good news is, the police are taking these threats very seriously and are looking for the writer.
I'm not sure what will happen to her when they find her. (And you know they'll find her. It won't take long. This woman is not that bright.) You know me, I would never condone violence, but I wouldn't cry outrage if she "accidentally" got her arm broken when they were processing her finger prints or if she was "accidentally" left in a holding cell with some mothers of autistic children who just happened to get "accidentally" locked in there too. My guess is those mothers would be happy to harvest her body parts for science.
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So there is this bitch in Canada who lives near an older lady who takes care of her grandson in the summer time. The grandson is severely autistic and spends a lot of his time outside.
The bitchy neighbor can't stand listening to the autistic grandson make noises outside and so she took it upon herself to write an anonymous letter to the grandmother with some helpful suggestions of how to deal with the boy. Such as: take him to park, move away, and (this one is the doozy) euthanize him.
Yeah. This soulless cunt suggested the boy be killed. As in dead. As in murder this child because he's too noisy and annoying.
But just in case you think the bitch isn't caring, before his death she would like to harvest his "non retarded (her words, not mine) body parts" and donate them to science because "what the hell else good is he to anyone?" Here is a link where you can see the whole disgusting letter.
My head is spinning after reading this fucked up tirade. Are you kidding me? Can you believe that? Can you believe that there is someone out there who is so fucking ignorant and horrid? This world is full of so many fucked up people. I get emails from people asking me why I'm so angry all of the time. It's people like this woman who make me angry all the time. Just knowing this woman is out there spouting her awful bullshit makes me furious.
I don't have a child with special needs, but if I did and I received this letter, I would probably burn down my neighborhood. That's how angry I am right now.
I just find it so disgusting and appalling that anyone would write this letter. What the fuck is wrong with people that they would actually suggest a child be euthanized?? I can only hope that this woman is too stupid to actually know what that word means.
This letter was signed by "One pissed off mother." No! She cannot call herself that. I am a pissed off mother at times. You are a pissed off mother at times. But we pissed off mothers would NEVER EVER EVER suggest someone euthanize their child.
I feel terrible for the family who received this typewritten letter. I can't imagine how upsetting it must have been. The good news is, the police are taking these threats very seriously and are looking for the writer.
I'm not sure what will happen to her when they find her. (And you know they'll find her. It won't take long. This woman is not that bright.) You know me, I would never condone violence, but I wouldn't cry outrage if she "accidentally" got her arm broken when they were processing her finger prints or if she was "accidentally" left in a holding cell with some mothers of autistic children who just happened to get "accidentally" locked in there too. My guess is those mothers would be happy to harvest her body parts for science.
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Why I Hate Third Grade
Thursday was the first day of school for
my children. I know it seems early to you East Coasters, but when
your kids have been home since mid-May this doesn't seem early at
all.
The first day of school is when my OAM
(OverAchieving Mommy) gene rears its ugly head. I always demand that
the Hubs takes the kids' pictures before school and then we both
drive them up to the school and take their picture in front of the building marquee that says FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL and in their classroom at their
desk and usually with their teacher. I don't get out an adorable handmade sign saying what grade they're in and what their favorite color and/or ice cream flavor is - I have my limits. I just want a couple of simple pictures to document the day.
I do like my pictures to look nice though, so I always pick out "first day of school outfits" for my kids.
Gomer is a third grader this year and
up until now I've been pretty lucky that he's let me pick all of his
clothes for him. He's never had a strong opinion on anything fashion wise. Over
the years I've always dressed him in cargo shorts and cute boys
shirts (I know, that sounds like an oxymoron, but there are some out
there) and one year he even let me dress him in clam diggers (the
Hubs called them capris - I called them precious).
Adolpha is a first grader and I've battled over clothing choices with her since she was two. She would
literally rip clothing off of her body that she did not approve of.
Literally. Like the Incredible Hulk. I stopped shopping for her by
myself when she was three and I realized that it was easier to have
her approve clothes in the store so that I didn't waste my money when
she tore them off of her body. I wasn't a total pushover though. I
would always give her two choices that I found appropriate and then
I'd make her choose. It gave her some power, but still kept me in
charge. We still go round and round over high heeled shoes and short
shorts. Fucking clothing manufacturers. She's six, not 26. I'm used
to a little pushback from Adolpha on the first day. For instance,
last year she got it in her head that she wanted to wear a private
school uniform. They had them at The Children's Place and she really
liked the look of the jumper so that was her first day of school
outfit, complete with the matching headband.
This year, the night before school I
went into Gomer's closet to pick the clothes for him to wear for his
first day of school.
“What are you doing, Mom?” he
asked.
“Finding you an outfit for tomorrow,”
I replied.
“I don't wear 'outfits', Mom,” he
sulked.
“Fine. I'm looking for clothes for tomorrow.”
“Why can't I wear these?” He held
up a pair of dirty athletic shorts. This summer Gomer turned into a
jock. I'm not sure when it happened. Right around the same time he
outgrew all of his cargo shorts and his nice Gymboree shorts. When I
took him shopping for new shorts he begged for those swishy athletic shorts. I
looked around and noticed that all of the boys were wearing them so I
relented.
“Because they're dirty and I want you
to look nice for tomorrow.”
“Fine. I'll get a clean pair,” he
rummaged in his drawer and pulled out another pair.
“Gomer! Please. Tomorrow is the first
day of school. I would like a picture of you and your sister looking
nice. I will dress you tomorrow and after that unless it's picture
day or something else I call dibs on, you can wear all of your sports
stuff. OK?”
“Mommmm,” Gomer said. “But what
about Adolpha? She's already picked out her outfit. Did you approve
it?”
I turned to Adolpha, “You picked out
an outfit?”
“Yup.”
“May I see it please?”
She scampered off and returned a few
minutes later in jean shorts, a sparkly blingy tank top, a faux fur
vest that fit her when she was a toddler and is now just a weird faux fur bolero thing and sparkly high top sneakers.
“Absolutely not.”
That's when everyone started freaking
out on me. OK, it wasn't like I pulled out ah-dor-able matching
Gymboree outfits for the two of them to wear like the precious
snowflakes that they are. I wasn't asking Gomer to wear a t-shirt with a dinosaur on it! Was it too much to ask that everyone look
presentable for one damn picture?!!
I finally compromised with everyone –
no one was happy, including myself. I've been told in sales that's
considered a win-win because everyone feels a little screwed. Well, it
was a win-win then, because I felt hosed!
The next morning everyone let me comb
their hair with little or no drama (except Gomer suddenly wanted his "spiky" now and Adolpha refused her standard 'do of braids and instead opted for a "cool" headband) and we headed to the school for
pictures.
As we walked up to the front of the
building I caught a glimpse of one of Gomer's friends sneaking in a
quick kiss with his mom when he thought no one was watching. “Oh!
Gomer,” I said.
“Yeah?”
“I just saw Helmut kiss his mother in
the parking lot. Do third graders not kiss their moms goodbye in the
classroom?”
Gomer thought on that one for a second,
“Nope. If you want one, now is the time.”
I pulled him close and kissed him
several times and whispered, “But I still get one in the
classroom, right?”
“Ugh, no Mom!” Gomer tried to push
me away.
This should be posted on the door of every third grade classroom.
In his classroom, I quickly realized
that kisses weren't the only thing you didn't get anymore. No one gets a quick picture with the teacher either. That stuff
is for second graders. Third graders give you a side hug and shove
you out the door. From what I've heard I was even lucky to be allowed
in the door.
As I left in a hurry, I leaned down and whispered in Gomer's ear, "Have a great day. I love you, but I hate third grade."
Thank goodness I still have Adolpha. She gave
me a smacker right on the lips in front of everyone. She's my
favorite … at least until third grade.
Need more laughs in your life? Follow me on Facebook and Twitter.
my children. I know it seems early to you East Coasters, but when
your kids have been home since mid-May this doesn't seem early at
all.
The first day of school is when my OAM
(OverAchieving Mommy) gene rears its ugly head. I always demand that
the Hubs takes the kids' pictures before school and then we both
drive them up to the school and take their picture in front of the building marquee that says FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL and in their classroom at their
desk and usually with their teacher. I don't get out an adorable handmade sign saying what grade they're in and what their favorite color and/or ice cream flavor is - I have my limits. I just want a couple of simple pictures to document the day.
I do like my pictures to look nice though, so I always pick out "first day of school outfits" for my kids.
Gomer is a third grader this year and
up until now I've been pretty lucky that he's let me pick all of his
clothes for him. He's never had a strong opinion on anything fashion wise. Over
the years I've always dressed him in cargo shorts and cute boys
shirts (I know, that sounds like an oxymoron, but there are some out
there) and one year he even let me dress him in clam diggers (the
Hubs called them capris - I called them precious).
Adolpha is a first grader and I've battled over clothing choices with her since she was two. She would
literally rip clothing off of her body that she did not approve of.
Literally. Like the Incredible Hulk. I stopped shopping for her by
myself when she was three and I realized that it was easier to have
her approve clothes in the store so that I didn't waste my money when
she tore them off of her body. I wasn't a total pushover though. I
would always give her two choices that I found appropriate and then
I'd make her choose. It gave her some power, but still kept me in
charge. We still go round and round over high heeled shoes and short
shorts. Fucking clothing manufacturers. She's six, not 26. I'm used
to a little pushback from Adolpha on the first day. For instance,
last year she got it in her head that she wanted to wear a private
school uniform. They had them at The Children's Place and she really
liked the look of the jumper so that was her first day of school
outfit, complete with the matching headband.
This year, the night before school I
went into Gomer's closet to pick the clothes for him to wear for his
first day of school.
“What are you doing, Mom?” he
asked.
“Finding you an outfit for tomorrow,”
I replied.
“I don't wear 'outfits', Mom,” he
sulked.
“Fine. I'm looking for clothes for tomorrow.”
“Why can't I wear these?” He held
up a pair of dirty athletic shorts. This summer Gomer turned into a
jock. I'm not sure when it happened. Right around the same time he
outgrew all of his cargo shorts and his nice Gymboree shorts. When I
took him shopping for new shorts he begged for those swishy athletic shorts. I
looked around and noticed that all of the boys were wearing them so I
relented.
“Because they're dirty and I want you
to look nice for tomorrow.”
“Fine. I'll get a clean pair,” he
rummaged in his drawer and pulled out another pair.
“Gomer! Please. Tomorrow is the first
day of school. I would like a picture of you and your sister looking
nice. I will dress you tomorrow and after that unless it's picture
day or something else I call dibs on, you can wear all of your sports
stuff. OK?”
“Mommmm,” Gomer said. “But what
about Adolpha? She's already picked out her outfit. Did you approve
it?”
I turned to Adolpha, “You picked out
an outfit?”
“Yup.”
“May I see it please?”
She scampered off and returned a few
minutes later in jean shorts, a sparkly blingy tank top, a faux fur
vest that fit her when she was a toddler and is now just a weird faux fur bolero thing and sparkly high top sneakers.
“Absolutely not.”
That's when everyone started freaking
out on me. OK, it wasn't like I pulled out ah-dor-able matching
Gymboree outfits for the two of them to wear like the precious
snowflakes that they are. I wasn't asking Gomer to wear a t-shirt with a dinosaur on it! Was it too much to ask that everyone look
presentable for one damn picture?!!
I finally compromised with everyone –
no one was happy, including myself. I've been told in sales that's
considered a win-win because everyone feels a little screwed. Well, it
was a win-win then, because I felt hosed!
The next morning everyone let me comb
their hair with little or no drama (except Gomer suddenly wanted his "spiky" now and Adolpha refused her standard 'do of braids and instead opted for a "cool" headband) and we headed to the school for
pictures.
As we walked up to the front of the
building I caught a glimpse of one of Gomer's friends sneaking in a
quick kiss with his mom when he thought no one was watching. “Oh!
Gomer,” I said.
“Yeah?”
“I just saw Helmut kiss his mother in
the parking lot. Do third graders not kiss their moms goodbye in the
classroom?”
Gomer thought on that one for a second,
“Nope. If you want one, now is the time.”
I pulled him close and kissed him
several times and whispered, “But I still get one in the
classroom, right?”
“Ugh, no Mom!” Gomer tried to push
me away.
This should be posted on the door of every third grade classroom.
In his classroom, I quickly realized
that kisses weren't the only thing you didn't get anymore. No one gets a quick picture with the teacher either. That stuff
is for second graders. Third graders give you a side hug and shove
you out the door. From what I've heard I was even lucky to be allowed
in the door.
As I left in a hurry, I leaned down and whispered in Gomer's ear, "Have a great day. I love you, but I hate third grade."
Thank goodness I still have Adolpha. She gave
me a smacker right on the lips in front of everyone. She's my
favorite … at least until third grade.
Need more laughs in your life? Follow me on Facebook and Twitter.
August 14, 2013
For My Friend Courtney
WARNING: This is NOT a funny post. I am not in a funny mood tonight. I am sad and angry and frustrated. If you're not interested in that, then check back another day. If you don't mind listening to me cry a little, then read on.
Yesterday I changed my profile picture to this:
I did this in honor of my friend Courtney who blogs at Our Small Moments.
This week Courtney had to endure the untimely loss of Scott - her best friend, her soul mate, her husband, the father of her young children - to cancer. He was 34 years old.
This week Courtney became a widow and a single mother in the blink of an eye.
Courtney is one of the kindest and strongest people I have ever known. While Scott had his treatments far from home, Courtney had to continue working full time and caring for their children. Never once did Courtney's optimism waver. She was Scott's most faithful supporter and Scott tried so hard to recover for his family. Although their time together was short, the love they shared was amazing and inspiring.
I know it doesn't sound like it, but I have never met Courtney in real life. We are "bloggy friends" and yet I feel closer to Courtney than some people I see all the time. We were both lucky enough to find ourselves included in a group of generous women who support one another through the highs and lows in our lives - online and off. Besides blogging, we've been there for another through pregnancies, new babies, house sales, illness, and loss. We have weathered Scott's illness together.
We're scattered across the country and we've tried our best to be there for Courtney as much as we can. But all we want tonight is to be with Courtney. To hug her and hold her hand and cry with her. We want to hug her sweet little children and tell them it's going to be alright. But we can't. Because we're just so damn far away.
Ever since we heard the news, we've been putting ourselves in Courtney's place. We've been asking ourselves, "Can you imagine the sadness, the fear, the anger, and the heartache Courtney must be feeling now?"
Can you?
I can't even guess and yet I'm sitting here crying as I write this because that's all I can think about. I think about her kids who are so close in age to mine and I think about Courtney trying to explain to them why their dad is no longer with them. Why he can't be at another soccer game or ballet recital. Why he'll never tuck them into bed again. I think about Courtney and how she must go on alone now, without her best friend by her side. I think about how empty Courtney's bed must feel without Scott beside her. How quiet her house must be without his company. I think about the overwhelming tasks that she must accomplish in the next few days. It would be all I could do not to curl into a ball and try to escape.
We felt so useless and powerless to help our friend. As our group went back and forth with ideas to help Courtney (send her meals, send flowers, etc.) and then we heard about a real need she has. Something we could actually help her with. A burden we could actually lift no matter where we were.
As you know, cancer isn't cheap. Scott battled cancer for almost a year and the bills have mounted very high. Courtney is a single mom now with one salary. We know that many of her friends and family who live close by will take care of food and help her with her children and will be there to listen, but those medical bills will loom over her for months or years even. We realized that we were in the perfect position to help her alleviate those bills.
That's why we started a fundraiser at Give Forward. All of the money we raise will go to pay the medical bills that were accrued during Scott's illness. We're sharing it with our readers, because we know that many of you have been touched by cancer and by loss and you know exactly how Courtney is feeling tonight.
We would hope that you would feel moved to help Courtney and her children. Help her sleep better at night knowing that the medical bills aren't closing in on her. It doesn't have to be a big donation, every little bit counts and is so appreciated. And if you're in a position where you can't donate we understand. Courtney is a praying person and I know she'd be grateful for a prayer for her and her beautiful children.
If you'd like to help Courtney and her children, please click here.
Yesterday I changed my profile picture to this:
I did this in honor of my friend Courtney who blogs at Our Small Moments.
This week Courtney had to endure the untimely loss of Scott - her best friend, her soul mate, her husband, the father of her young children - to cancer. He was 34 years old.
This week Courtney became a widow and a single mother in the blink of an eye.
Courtney is one of the kindest and strongest people I have ever known. While Scott had his treatments far from home, Courtney had to continue working full time and caring for their children. Never once did Courtney's optimism waver. She was Scott's most faithful supporter and Scott tried so hard to recover for his family. Although their time together was short, the love they shared was amazing and inspiring.
I know it doesn't sound like it, but I have never met Courtney in real life. We are "bloggy friends" and yet I feel closer to Courtney than some people I see all the time. We were both lucky enough to find ourselves included in a group of generous women who support one another through the highs and lows in our lives - online and off. Besides blogging, we've been there for another through pregnancies, new babies, house sales, illness, and loss. We have weathered Scott's illness together.
We're scattered across the country and we've tried our best to be there for Courtney as much as we can. But all we want tonight is to be with Courtney. To hug her and hold her hand and cry with her. We want to hug her sweet little children and tell them it's going to be alright. But we can't. Because we're just so damn far away.
Ever since we heard the news, we've been putting ourselves in Courtney's place. We've been asking ourselves, "Can you imagine the sadness, the fear, the anger, and the heartache Courtney must be feeling now?"
Can you?
I can't even guess and yet I'm sitting here crying as I write this because that's all I can think about. I think about her kids who are so close in age to mine and I think about Courtney trying to explain to them why their dad is no longer with them. Why he can't be at another soccer game or ballet recital. Why he'll never tuck them into bed again. I think about Courtney and how she must go on alone now, without her best friend by her side. I think about how empty Courtney's bed must feel without Scott beside her. How quiet her house must be without his company. I think about the overwhelming tasks that she must accomplish in the next few days. It would be all I could do not to curl into a ball and try to escape.
We felt so useless and powerless to help our friend. As our group went back and forth with ideas to help Courtney (send her meals, send flowers, etc.) and then we heard about a real need she has. Something we could actually help her with. A burden we could actually lift no matter where we were.
As you know, cancer isn't cheap. Scott battled cancer for almost a year and the bills have mounted very high. Courtney is a single mom now with one salary. We know that many of her friends and family who live close by will take care of food and help her with her children and will be there to listen, but those medical bills will loom over her for months or years even. We realized that we were in the perfect position to help her alleviate those bills.
That's why we started a fundraiser at Give Forward. All of the money we raise will go to pay the medical bills that were accrued during Scott's illness. We're sharing it with our readers, because we know that many of you have been touched by cancer and by loss and you know exactly how Courtney is feeling tonight.
We would hope that you would feel moved to help Courtney and her children. Help her sleep better at night knowing that the medical bills aren't closing in on her. It doesn't have to be a big donation, every little bit counts and is so appreciated. And if you're in a position where you can't donate we understand. Courtney is a praying person and I know she'd be grateful for a prayer for her and her beautiful children.
If you'd like to help Courtney and her children, please click here.
