My Tenderoni.

Jun 29, 2012

Bedtime with Ben.

Ben: “I am going to sleep with Duckie on my chest tonight. He needs me to protect him because sometimes he gets afraid of monsters.”

Mom: “Oh! Well that is very sweet of you to protect him.”

Ben: “There’s no real monsters though, right?”

Mom: “Right. There’s no such thing as monsters.”

Ben: “They’re just stories.”

Mom: “That’s right.”

Ben: “Stories from your eyeballs.”

Mom: “Hm?”

Ben: “Like at night, you close your eyes, and there are stories on your eyeballs.”

Mom: “OH MY GOD THAT IS THE SWEETEST THING I HAVE EVER HEARD ANYBODY SAY EVER.”

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MY WEEKLY ROUND UP!

The Politicus: Supreme Court tells non-white Arizonans to sleep with one eye open

Reckless Video: Read my review of The Artist!

Imperfect Parent: Did you know that every time you click on one of my articles at Minor Topics, an angel gets its wings? And I make about 1/8 of a penny? But, you know, do it for the angels.

Holy squeeeeeeeeeeeee!

Jun 27, 2012

Parent Map announced the winners of the 2012 Golden Teddy Awards, and I am one of them!! Well, along with the fabulous Lea Gellar, Jenny Frickin’ Lawson, and Dr Wendy Sue Swanson. Here’s the link!

And look! I added a small, unobtrusive, completely un-obnoxious reminder over there ———————————–>    😉

Holy guacamole, y’all. And they used the words “irreverent” and “spew” in my write up. I feel complete.

I can’t say thank you enough for reading this blog and laughing at me. With me. Whichever. Writing here is a joy for me, and it has given me back a piece of myself. One night, a few months after I started posting more frequently, my husband said to me, “I forgot how funny you are.” I forgot for a while, too. Thanks for spending some time here listening.

Big wet kisses for everyone. Without exception.

Meredith

The new way my children like to torture me.

Jun 27, 2012

These fucking kids.

It’s called “The Yawning Game.” It started when I told them that when one person yawns it makes other people want to yawn. Now, those little fuckers are using it against me. This is what happens when you give children knowledge.

If we go on a car ride, after a while there will be an exaggerated yawn from the back seat “YAAAAAAAAAAWN. I’m so tired.” And then the other one. “YAAAAAAAAAAAAWN. Me too.” And then they just sit there, giggling, because they know I can’t fight it. And the first few times it’s cute. We’re all cracking up, everybody is smiling. But by the 5th or 6th yawn in a row it gets a little irritating.

I start to say things like, “Ok guys that (yawn) that’s enough now.”

And they’re all “YAAAAAAAAAWN.”

And I’m all, “Guys, really I (yawn) mean it. That’s enough.”

“YAAAAAAAAAWN.”

“Dang it! (yawn) Guys I am really starting to get irritated (yawn) now!”

You know how you can scratch that one part of a dog’s stomach and it will start scratching itself with it’s back leg? And it’s really funny the first time but a half hour into it the dog has scratched itself bloody and now you’re guilty of animal cruelty? It’s like that.

And did I mention that Mike thinks it is completely hysterical? Oh yeah. He’s no help at all. Well, he can go help the kids yawn-rape people in hell. Because that is exactly the kind of horseshit they do there.

War of the Crows-es.

Jun 25, 2012

We have a lot of crows out here in Seattle. I see them EVERYWHERE. And since my house is in an area where there used to be an orchard, there are a lot of fruit trees in the neighborhood. So they are all up in my shit constantly.

I have a love/hate relationship with crows. On the one hand, they are nature’s trash cans. Which I love for the convenience. If the kids drop a piece of food in the driveway, I can leave it there and know that when we return from our outing, it will be gone. And I get to tell myself I fed a hungry animal. The win is all mine.

But I have had a few run ins with crows lately that have left both sides embarrassed and angry. It’s become kind of a “thing” now…….it’s all very awkward. In particular — I hate to point fingers — but the crows at the Magnolia playground appear to have some sort of gang initiation going on, because they are VERY aggressive. Indeed, their kung fu is strong.

Now, I have never said I am a reasonable, grown up person. And the fact that I have a personal vendetta against crows (who, by the way, are VERY intelligent so…….you know…….it’s not like I’m picking on the slow kid, here) should tell you that.

Bring your A-game, bitches.

I have been to the Magnolia playground twice. Once was a year or two ago, when the kids were still in diapers. I had my big ol’ diaper bag filled with diapers and wipes and creams and snacks and water. And I threw a protein bar in the outside pocket, which was a pretty smooth move for me since I usually forget to bring anything for myself and then end up starving and left with NO OTHER CHOICE but to eat the kids’ fruit snacks. Or those chocolate-covered granola bars that the kids wanted at Target and I knew that if I was stuck in the woods for a week…….or on I-5 for 20 minutes…..I would also enjoy.

So that first time at the playground I was a naive fool. I left my diaper bag with my protein bar sticking out of the outside pocket over on the other side of the playground while I pushed my kids on the swings. Well, if I didn’t look up to see one of those son of a bitch crows jump on my bag, claw open the pocket, and fly away with my protein bar!

Oh I was pissed. Didn’t say, “Ah well, to the victor goes the spoils. Well played, crow.” No no. I walked over there, fueled by low blood sugar and the feeling that I had been grievously violated. I said, “Alright! If that’s how you’re going to behave then NOBODY gets the protein bar!!” Shooed the crows away, and threw the protein bar in the trash. IN THE TRASH, PEOPLE. Petty? Perhaps. Taught those crows a lesson? Definitely no. Served my sense of justice? ABSOLUTELY.

So the other day the kids and I went back to the Magnolia playground. And let me tell you, I carried our shit EVERYWHERE. I would sit on a bench, put the bag beneath my legs, and toss my jacket over the top. Those fuckers were going to have kill me AND eat though some Eddie Bauer before they got these snacks. But I did watch them get another woman’s sandwich. She must have been new, and unlearned in the ways of the Magnolia Murder (that’s the name of their gang, obviously). I would have helped her, but I knew the second I walked away from my bag I was going to be down a bag of grapes.

It’s every man for himself on the playground, son.

By the way, did you know that crows are able to construct and use tools? Yeah. They can. Oh, and my pal Meg recently informed me that they can recognize people’s faces. So, I’ll go ahead and add that to the nightmare.

First, I take your crackers. Next, your children.

What parenting means to me……

Jun 22, 2012

• Knowing the difference between clean and “clean” and that either is acceptable. Most of the time. Or all of the time, as long as you keep it on the DL.

• Stepping on something wet and not even looking back. Because stopping means cleaning and I have to space that shit out.

• Wiping someone’s butt and then going right back to your sandwich. Because if I washed my hands every time they touched something disgusting I’d be like those people with OCD who can never get the germs off.

• Being stumped when asked what the word “dumb” means. Or “Thursday”. Or “chicken”.

• Saying, “This afternoon we got ice cream and then went to the pool.” And having that mean, “This afternoon I almost stabbed myself with a waffle cone and then strangled myself with a set of water wings.”

• Being madly in love with someone you can’t wait to get some time away from.

• Giving up on ____________ (whatever you put here, that answer is correct).

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My weekly round up!

The Politicus: Headline Round Up 6/18/12

The Yellow Ham: Dear Goodwill Donation Guidelines

Imperfect Parent: Did you know that every time you click on one of my articles at Minor Topics, an angel gets its wings? And I make about 1/8 of a penny? But, you know, do it for the angels.

Reckless Video: You can read my review of Project X below! We had technical difficulties and couldn’t get it on their site this week. Spoiler alert: it sucked.

Project X

Last night, I watched Project X. After the movie finished, my husband innocently poked his head into the room and asked me how it was. I unleashed a torrent of words on him that was so full of rage and hate that he said, “Maybe you shouldn’t write the review tonight.” He was right.

Project X was produced by Todd Phillips, who also produced The Hangover. It is the story of three unpopular, privileged teenage boys who decide to throw the party of the year for Thomas’s (the lead) 17^th birthday party. The boys swear for the sake of swearing and call themselves “ballers” – which, when you’re wearing an argyle sweater vest, does indeed take some balls. So far, though, no surprises. This movie has been done before. One thing that the film did do differently was to use the “found footage” style of filming, á la Paranormal Activity.Project X also tried to be more extreme and more offensive than the other versions of this story line we have seen. They succeeded. They also made a movie that made me wish for a school shooting.

There is no way I can explain how much I hated this movie. From start to finish, it was awful and offensive. And not a funny kind of offensive like in The Hangover or Superbad, which at least had the benefit of some clever writing and humor, not to mention a few likeable characters. Project X lacks all of that. This is a movie tailor-made for young men between the ages of 12 and 22. But not just any young men – mean, uncaring young men.

One of my main complaints about Project X is that it hates women. This is one of the most blatantly misogynistic movies I have seen in a long time. No young woman should be forced to see this movie. All of the girls in this film are objectified and treated like property to be used for one purpose only. They are all beautiful, and all stupid. For example – in one scene, the boys put a sign up by the pool that says “Naked Girls Only”. The girls look at it, shrug, and oblige. One of the boys says, “I can’t believe that sign worked!!” Neither can I. And earlier, when the film-maker asks a high school boy what his hopes are for the party, he says, “Get high, fuck bitches.” And that is the tone of the movie. Two girls together, two girls with one guy, girls fighting over what would generously be called “moderately attractive” boys – the girls/props are there to fulfill adolescent fantasies while saying as little as possible.

Women aren’t the only ones who get used as meaningless props in this movie. There is a Little Person – an adult man – who is at the party for no reason whatsoever except to make fun of the notion of him as a sexual being, and to stuff him in an oven for laughs. I am not kidding. And if you’re a dog lover, you’re also in for a treat as the party-goers get Thomas’s dog high and otherwise abuse him.

Adults don’t fare any better as they are all bumbling fools who admire the kids and are intimidated by them. Even the police are too scared of these high schoolers to go in and shut down the party. And Thomas’s father ends up PROUD of his son after the party because it means he’s not a “loser”. Nice. Excellent. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go curl up in a ball in the corner of my couch.

Project X had a few opportunities to have some substance, but passed on all of them. There were a couple of times in the film where I started to say, “Ok……so here’s where someone learns something!” That is, until the next frame, where I said, “Oh……..never mind.” The boys – who destroy not only Thomas’s home but his entire block – learn nothing. Sure, in the end there is talk of charges being brought, bankruptcy, and college funds lost – but all in the context of, “no matter what happens, that was a great party.” Oh. Well, then………..yay?

Here are some movies you should watch instead of Project X: The Hangover, Superbad, Old School, Dazed and Confused, Risky Business, American Pie, Teen Wolf, Teen Wolf Too, your grandmother’s vacation slides from Boca Raton, the wedding video of that guy you went to high school with, a youtube video of a boil being lanced, the options are endless. Just don’t subject yourself to Project X. Unlike everyone else in the film, you won’t respect yourself in the morning.

Nothing but rainbows in this house.

Jun 20, 2012

So…………my daughter was looking through the photos on my phone the other day, when she came across this one I took of a painting:

And what did she ask me?

“Is that a picture of your DEAD DAD?”

Like I just keep a picture of his corpse on my iPhone. “This is the kids at the beach……..and this is the kids at Halloween……..and this is my father’s dead body………..what? Is it that baby next to his corpse that’s weirding you out? I know. But they were like, ‘Oh can we have a picture of our baby with your body?’ And we were like, ‘Uh, I guess.’ And then they were like, ‘Can you put his hand on the crib?’ and we were like, ‘What?’ and they were like, “Aw, come on! It’ll be hysterical!’ and we were like, ‘………HA! You’re right! And then what if we put him in a dress and laid his head on the bed like he’s super tired?!'” And a masterpiece was born.

But seriously, we’ve been talking a lot about death lately and how Grandpa died a long time ago.  It’s been super good times. Maybe we’ll go take a field trip to the local cemetery or watch a little “Terms of Endearment” later. You know, keep it light.

Play date waivers. OH YES.

Jun 18, 2012

Dudes. Hold my hand. You are NOT going to believe this.

Parents are having other parents SIGN LIABILITY WAIVERS WHEN THEY COME OVER FOR PLAY DATES. No they didn’t! OH YES, THEY DID. As in,”You can put your coat and shoes there, and here is a pen for you to sign the waiver. It’s just standard procedure here at the Smith household.” I found out about these a few months ago. Here’s a story over at Today Moms about it from back in March, just to prove to you that I am on the level about this one.

Oh my gosh you guys, at first I thought — unreal. It’s too much!! Are we really THAT paranoid and crazy that we feel we have to be released of legal responsibility for someone’s child when they come over to play with Legos?

But THEN I thought — hold the phone. This could be incredibly awesome.

So I have written up a Liability Waiver. I am totally going to have everyone who comes over to the house sign these from now on. I might even bring them to the park.

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WAIVER OF LIABILITY, ASSUMPTION of RISK and INDEMNITY AGREEMENT
for PARTICIPATING CHILD/CHILDREN in FUCKING AWESOME PLAY DATE.

My minor child has my permission to participate in a play date at your home. In consideration of my child’s participation in the play date, I, on behalf of my child and myself, hereby agree to the following:

• I am aware that participation in any play date activity can potentially be dangerous, particularly at your house, where your sense of humor is questionable and your husband is generous with his wood-working tools. I fully recognize and understand that there are risks and hazards associated with participation in this play date. These risks start at cuts, scrapes, and bruises. That’s just level one. If the play date gets even more awesome, it may lead to broken bones, muscle strains, pulls or tears, or other bodily injuries. Anything more awesome then that is against the law and will not be done during this play date. Pinkie swear.

• I hereby attest that my child has no physical, health related or other problems which would preclude or restrict their participation in this fucking awesome play date. Their sense of balance is excellent, and their instinct for self-preservation is fully developed.

• I agree that my child must abide by all rules and regulations of your household for participation in this play date. If they get mouthy or belligerent, I give your family permission to give them “the look” and/or the “side eye” as necessary.

• Should my child require emergency medical treatment or first aid as a result of illness or injury associated with what will surely be the raddest play date ever, I consent to such first aid and/or treatment, and to pay for any and all associated costs. In exchange I get all rights to photos of the injury and the story of how it happened, which I may feel free to embellish as much as I wish on Facebook and other mediums.

• I hereby acknowledge that there are differences in what different homes consider an “acceptable level of cleanliness and good manners.” I therefore waive my right to bitch about the fact that at your household my children might not be expected to wash their hands, will be free to wear their shoes wherever they’d like, will almost definitely be given processed snacks, and may come home with a new appreciation for the art of the fart.

• Should my child need to go potty while at your home, and they ask for help, I acknowledge that this would be an  uncomfortable situation for the play date host. I also understand that the play date hosts do not feel comfortable touching any butt holes except for their children’s and their own. As such, I accept that my child may be shouted directions and encouragement through a closed door, and I promise to withhold judgment regarding the state of my child’s anus when they return home.

• My child may return home from this play date with new, distasteful habits, or using shockingly vulgar words, and tell me that they picked these up at your home. By signing this form, I am acknowledging that my child — while lovely — can be a filthy liar and is not to be trusted. And besides, we both know that that kid Stevie in their class is the one who is truly responsible. Fuck Stevie.

• To the fullest extent permitted by law, I hereby release and forever discharge, and agree not to sue the magnificently kick ass play date’s hosts. I also release them from responsibility for any loss, damage, illness or injury to person, property, or animal in any way arising out of or relating to my child’s participation in the play date, whether due to the negligence, mistake or other action or inaction of the hosts. In other words, if you fuck up, it is totally cool. You will stay on my Christmas card list.

SIGNED:

Participating Play Date Parent

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Where do I sign?!!! Goodness. I tell you this — if I was handed a play date waiver at someone’s house, I would raise my leg, fart on it, and walk back out the door.

Believe that.

Move over, Wiggles. There’s a new band in town.

Jun 15, 2012

The other day, my kids came up with a name that was so magnificent I wrote it down and saved it, not knowing how or when I would be able to use it.

That day has come. I now realize that it will be the name of the children’s music band I will form when I fall upon hard times, and singing songs like “Penis Penis Vagina Butt” to preschoolers is the only way to support my drug habit.

It’s gonna be super bleak.

But what won’t be bleak is the name of my band. Are you ready?………

Floppy Popcorn.

Learn it. Love it. Hire us for your children’s birthday parties. And pay us with cake.

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My Weekly Round Up!

The Politicus: Headline Round Up 6/11/12

Reckless Video: Read my review of Sherlock Holmes: Game of Shadows

Imperfect Parent: Did you know that every time you click on one of my articles at Minor Topics, an angel gets its wings? And I make about 1/8 of a penny? But, you know, do it for the angels.

ALSO:

I was nominated for the Inspirational Blogger Award by my buddy Samantha over at Life By Photo! Usually I only inspire people to a) finally seek counseling or b) have a bowel movement. So this is really nice! Thanks!

And a big thanks to the hilarious Kathy at Don’t Forget To Feed The Baby, who nominated me for a Reader Appreciation Award!

These really mean a lot to me. I can’t believe that other people like to read the b.s. that I love to write.

Thanks so very very much for reading!! 🙂

If that dog could talk, he’d probably rape you.

Jun 13, 2012

Date night. The night you’re supposed to reconnect with your spouse. The night you talk about who dogs would be if they were people. Or maybe that’s just me and Mike.

We were leaving a restaurant when we walked by a guy with a Bull Terrior. Which got us thinking. And then I got blogging. And it was all downhill from there.

Here are 10 dog breeds, and who they would be if they were people.

1. The Bull Terrior

If the Bull Terrior was a person, he would be the guy lifting weights in the prison yard who would later rape you in the shower.

2. The Afghan Hound

If the Afghan Hound was a person, she would be the 24-year-old your Dad remarried after he left your Mom. Also, she would like you to call her Bethanie.

3. The Basset Hound

If the Basset Hound was a person, he would be that dude that wants you to be prepared for the next Great Depression and asks if you have a six month supply of water in your home for when the sun burns out. Side note: the Basset Hound is my mother.

4. The Boxer

If the boxer were a person, he’d be loud talking at a bar about how much your team sucks and giving you financial advice. Do not take his financial advice.

5. The Cavalier King Charles Spaniel

If the Cavalier King Charles Spaniel was a person, she’d be that friend you love dearly because she’s super sweet but she doesn’t know who the Vice President is and isn’t convinced that Estelle Getty is really dead.

6. The Chinese Crested

If the Chinese Crested were a person, she’d be the lead singer of an all girl group from Japan.

7. The French Bulldog

If the French Bulldog was a person, he would talk little but judge much. By the way, he has never had that particular issue but if he did he’d have a much better way of dealing with it.

8. The Komondor

If the Komondor was a person, he would be that Dad who tries to keep up with his kids at the park even though he may pass out at any second. Often heard saying, “Hey guys!! (pant pant) Wait up!! (pant) Daddy’s coming!!”

9. The Pekinese

If the Pekinese was a person, he’d be that old man in your neighborhood who isn’t totally with it, but he’ll say whatever he wants to because he survived the war, dammit.

10. Xoloitzcuintli

If the Xoloitzcuintli was a person, he would spend a lot of time asking people to just call him Steve.

This is a Big Fucking Deal, people.

Jun 12, 2012

You guys you guys you guys you guys. Guess what.

Today, I am the guest poster over at Scary Mommy. Yes, THE Scary Mommy. Once a week she lets us, the little people, have space on her blog to post. Today, it’s me!!

You can find my post at Scary Mommy. Scroll down, and look for “The Society” in the right-hand column. My post is called, “Tattoos and Other Bad Ideas.”

I’ll post a direct link later. (Here it is) After I wake up. And feed the children. Just my children, though, not ALL the children. You can feed your own kids. You don’t want me responsible for that.

“Mac N’ Cheese with a side of grapes AGAIN?!!”

“EAT IT! I have to fly to New York tonight to feed those little East Coast fuckers!”

WAIT — oh my god — give this a roll off the old tongue — “MACARONI SANTA.” Does that not stink of Lifetime movie?!!

“This Christmas………..just when she thought that she would be forced to eat chicken…………a dark, shadowy, somewhat obese figure with a protein deficiency arrived to save us all……….”

Keep your eye out for “Macaroni Santa” this Christmas. I will be the writer, producer, and Mr. Shatner’s assistant.

And if you’re here for the first time — welcome! You can check out the Greatest Hits link to get a taste of the good stuff.