More Tales of Pottytraining Efforts.

So How Do You Top Fried Pubes and Brafondling?
Ya can't. Ya just can't.

I appreciate the good folks who offered other possible explanations for the hair in my fries, such as arm hair, chest hair, beard hair, eyebrow hair, ear hair, and hair from other continents (which kinda snarked me the wrong way a little, as I'd never even mentioned the color of the hair because I didn't even wanna go there, but if you're interested, it was very light brown/blonde), and I understand that my story boggles the imagination, and perhaps you don't want to believe it, but BELIEVE IT, y'all. It was a pube, root still attached. If you'd seen it, I promise you, you'd agree.

I thought about asking R to submit samples of his arm hair, chest hair and pubic hair for the purpose of illustrating my point in a photograph. Understandably, he was uncomfortable with that, but I did perform a thorough, scientific comparison of his arm hair (too soft and too light), chest hair (too long), his eyebrow hair (too straight) and his pubes, and let's just say that I still stand firm behind my initial allegation.

So how did today go? Let me set it up a little.

Monday, I called and left a message with the boys' school informing them that we'd need to find out about options for the Non-Potty Trained. Yesterday, they called me to, very politely, let me know that there IS no option for the Non-Potty Trained at his age.

So I told little Tito that if he doesn't go potty potty, he can't go to school with Pie and his other friends. And what did he say?

"I no wanna go school. I stay home wiff you, Mommy.
YOU my friend."

Heart melting. Tears welling.

So I tell R this story and he says that I'm not helping because I want to keep T a baby forever - totally not true, hello, ya think I love changing dipes all day? So R proposes that on his day off (today) we put the boy in panties and just let him figure out that wet pants really suck and that going to the potty prevents wet pants. Yeah, cuz 3 1/2-year-olds are big on LOGIC.

I agree that something needs to be done. We've done all we can think of to help him. So I'm on board. We won't go anywhere, won't do anything but sit around and wait for T to go potty and have a big freakin party when he does. Hell, I'll take him to Chuck E. Cheese, a movie, the candy store, Donut Palace, I'd buy him a pony for cryin out loud - anything he wants if just once he'd pee on the damn potty.

The day started off all right, T sat on the potty for a good thirty minutes, and not one drop came out into the toilet. Clearly he's got some element of bladder control. In all the cumulative time he's sat on the potty, you'd think that he'd eventually have peed in it by accident, but he's never let one stray drop land where it belongs.

So after he sat there for what seemed a sufficient amount of time, R let him get up and we put panties on him with a Pull-Up over it. Moments later, he comes in to tell us he's wet. Too bad, says R. Maybe if you feel what wet pants feel like, you'll remember to pee in the potty instead of your pants.

T walks away like, whatever, and after a few minutes returns to the room. He is preceded by the undeniable stench of poo. Again, R insists that he sit in it for a while.

And R goes back to playing the XboxGame he was playing last night until 3am. The Xbox is in our bedroom. Not sure if I've ever mentioned that before.

Bottom (pun?) line is that by noon we were on pair #4. R played Xbox all day. Oh, and he did leave to go get the oil changed in the car. But I was the one with poop under my fingernails after cleaning up the all of the dirty panties. Great plan, eh? Yeah. Great for YOU.

It's raining, and I'm stuck in the house, bored shitless.

Ha, shitless. Don't I wish.

I offered to take Pie to his aquatherapy session. Usually R takes him, but I was really dying to get out of the house. R said fine. I was secretly wishing that I'd fed Tito a big vat of chili before I left, but obviously it was too late for that, so instead I just hoped for a bit of vengance in the form of poopy pants. Or maybe vomit.

It would serve R right if he had to actually put down the Xbox controller and hose the boy off the moment after I left. I had even thought of some extra errands to run while I was out, just to better my chances of bodily-function-related drama. Oh, how I relish poetic justice!

About ten minutes after P and I arrived at the pool, my cell phone rang.

Tito POOPED.

ON

THE

POTTY.

Remind me not to question R's methods.

So here's what our bathroom looks like now, for our Potty Party:

Courtesy of The Beeb.

But he still hasn't peed on the potty. Weird, huh?

Oh, and P.S. - I have to say that, whatever Brafondling Ray did to it, my bra feels great today. Maybe Ray's like "The Bra Whisperer". Ya think?

Yes, I washed it!

The Uneventful becomes Eventful

What I like about blogging is that it pretty much eliminates the banality from my life. Or else maybe it highlights what a dork I am, I'm not sure.

To clarify, today was a pretty mundane Tuesday. I got up, went to aerobics, took the boys to Best Buy, Lion's Choice and WalMart, got home and came in, just now, to the 'puter room to write about it.

But in the world of Blogdom, I can write about all the silly little things that went through my mind at various points in the day where I couldn't say them out loud without looking like a freak. I file these moments away, in my mental Rolodex, for blogging purposes. I intentionally pay closer attention to details in my everyday life so that I can paint vivid pictures for whomever happens upon this silly little blog. I'm always tuned in, in case something blogworthy happens. My life is so much less boring (to me, anyway) since I started blogging about it for the amusement of others.

This morning at aerobics, when I finally resigned myself to the fact that no matter how hard I try, my forehead just will NOT touch my knee, what movie line do you think kept running through my head?

"You're out of shape, Al. I'll kick your arse."

Weird Science.

Then I went to pick the boys up from the Amazon babysitter, who is about six feet tall and has long curly brown hair and a big poodly poof of bangs that are strangely parted to one side. She also looks like she swallowed a beach ball. She's not pregnant. And every time I walk by the room, she's sitting spread eagle in a rocking chair, overseeing the children's shenanigans. I try not to meet her gaze, as I think I've noticed a lazy-eye kinda situation. And she talks like she's got a mouth full of marbles.

Next, we went and picked up the long-awaited DVD compilation of Season Three of Arrested Development at Best Buy. I can't even wait for R to get home so we can tear into that. I've been in such withdrawal.

Hmmm... oh yeah, next we went to Lion's Choice. I didn't really want to get out of the car, as I was fresh out of aerobics class and smelling like a wet dog wearing a sweater made of attic-stored estate sale acrylic, but the boys really wanted to go inside to eat. So we did.

Every time I try to do something nice or give the kids a special treat, within about 5 minutes, I wish I hadn't. The boys began fighting about where we should sit. Pie wanted to sit in the tall chairs by the window. T wanted to sit in a booth. Usually, what happens when they can't agree is that MOM figures out a solution in which NEITHER of them gets what he wants.

We sat at a table away from the windows. Then Pie refused to eat. Fine, I said, don't eat. He pouted and whined while T and I ate, and I ignored him. Eventually he ate, but I had to warn him that Mommy will not take them out to lunch again if this is how he is going to behave.

I then looked down at my tray and saw something I never imagined I'd encounter in my lifetime. Something that will almost certainly ensure that I will never eat another French Fry again. Could such a thing exist in this universe? I mean, I love french fries. Seriously, just a quick glance at my ass will prove it.

Kids, there was a hair on my french fry.
And not just any kind of hair.
One of those short and curly ones.

I should have complained, I know, but I just could not bring myself to walk to the counter and explain to the cashier dude, in front of all of the other customers, that I had just found a f*ckin PUBE in my fries. For some reason, I didn't think he'd believe me. I was afraid I'd start laughing and then he'd think I was a sick enough psycho that I'd have put it there myself just to get a free bag of fries.

Ok, for the record, I'm frugal - but NOT to the point where I'd nonchalantly stick my hand down my stretchy pants to my landing strip, pluck out a couple and stealthily sprinkle them on my plate in order to avoid paying for my meal.

Plus, I didn't exactly feel like explaining to the boys why I was leaving the two of them at the table to get back in the line and give the fries back ("Why, Mommy? What's wrong with them? What's a Pubic Hair???" Isn't THAT all I effin need...).

I threw them away, and tried to get the visual out of my head so I wouldn't puke. I am extremely confident that I will never eat another french fry.

Hey, wanna know why I'll never eat another Krispy Kreme Donut as long as I live? It's not as nasty a story. I went inside one time (note to self: stick to the drive-thru) and I walked right by the machine that glazes the donuts and I got so grossed out, I went in the bathroom and threw up. I haven't eaten one since.

Next, as if I hadn't been violated enough for one day, I went to WalMart. I found a bra in my size and figured I'd buy myself another day without having to do laundry (a little gift from me to me).

I should point out that I'm not the girl who can wear the lil bitty bras that come in cute styles and colors. No, I'm a DD (which I hope is the ONLY thing I have in common with Jessica Simpson), so I have to buy these big ol' contraptions that you can tote a gallon of milk in (ok, not really) that come in Black, White, Beige, and, if you're lucky, Pink.

Now, it's a bit difficult to be discreet when buying a gigantic bra with 4 hooks across the back, even under the best of circumstances. Cashier Ray announces to me (and everyone in the line) that he can't find the bar code on this bra. Only he pronounced it "Brahr".

So Ray the cashier (who's about 70 if he's a day and looks like he could be Cliff Claven's Dad) starts poking and twisting and totally having a relationship with my bra, searching for the bar code. Flipping it over, flipping it back, holding it up. Dude. It's right here on the tag, I showed him.

Here. Jeez. Freaky bra-fondler. Ugh.

I'm pretty sure I heard snickering as I walked away, mortified.

Now, don't Amazon Babysitter, Pube Fry and Ray the WalMart Bra Fondler make my day sound a lot more interesting than "Aerobics, Best Buy, Lunch and WalMart"?

It's the miracle of blogging.

OMG, Get This...

The best "Weird Searches that lead people to your blog" to date. It's not so much weird as it is delectably ironic:

HOW TO RUN A DAISY TROOP MEETING.


And there's more fun stuff I have to tell you about.

About a month or so ago, I was perusing one of my favorite cheapie/freebie sites, KachinaWeb (costs $10 to join, I think, but it's TOTALLY worth it, IMHO, and y'all know I would tell you if it was a ripoff). Someone had written in about how they'd sent an email to Simple Green and told them how much they loved their products, and the good people at Simple Green sent her back a big FedEx box full of products and stuffed animals for her kids and she was totally floored by it.

So I thought, I'll give that a try. I write good letters.

I wrote and told them how much I like their products. I like them so much, in fact, that I'd love for Simple Green to come in a small size that I could keep in the car for when my three kids make messes (wanted to make sure they knew I had three kids so they could send me three of whatever kid stuff they send lest there be a mutiny at Chez Karma). Keep up the great work, your loyal customer, blah blah blah.

And then I forgot all about it.

Until Friday morning when my doorbell rang and I saw a FedEx truck in front of the house. I was trying to remember if I'd ordered yarn recently...no... whatever could it be? The delivery gal handed me the box, cautioning me that it was heavy. It was. It was REALLY heavy. It also clinked a little bit when I wobbled it. Oooooh, the suspense!

I set the box on my bed and grabbed my scissors and a camera. Brace yourselves.



NINETY-SIX 2oz. bottles of concentrated Simple Green. Let me just reiterate this.

NINETY-SIX of them.

This pic shows one box of forty-eight bottles. There were two boxes taped together. NINETY-SIX bottles total.

All I really wanted was one.

Ninety-six bottles of Simple Green on the wall, Ninety-six bottles of Simple Greeeeeeeeeeeeeen, ya take one down and spray your sink to a high-polished shine, Ninety-five bottles of Simple Green on the wall...

And it's concentrated, so one 2oz bottle dilutes like 10:1. So basically, I'm pretty set on cleaning products.


Another blogworthy package I received last week came from Bezzie!



Item #1: Penny Karma Crack! Werther's Chewy Caramels, if you're new to my blog.

Item #2: Spoons! So my kids can eat cereal for breakfast without burdening themselves by a) washing the spoons in the sink or b)waking me up to tell me that we're out of clean spoons!

Item #3: Box Tops for Beebie's school! Beeb was so happy.

Yay!! Thank you Bezzie!


That's all well and good, you say, but what about the weekend's visit with Aunt Drama and Uncle Earhair? C'mon, we're dyin' here!!

It was really pretty boring, actually. MIL and FIL didn't come. I guess the only highlight was when Aldigirl bit my Beebie on the arm, for reasons still undetermined.

I did bring an emergency bottle of Barbecue Sauce in my purse.

Winners and Losers

Red Carpet Madness!

I liked Mariska Hargitay's dress

And Annette Bening's


and Evangeline Lily's

And Felicity Huffman's.

And then there were a couple I was on the fence about.


I wasn't sure how I felt about Megan Mullally's dress


or Ellen Pompeo's (didn't it look like her ponytail was waaaaay too tight?)

I wasn't 100% on board with Jamie Pressly's choice of dress


or Kyra Sedgwick's big poofy thing (I liked the rest of the dress).


But here's who I really didn't like:

Oh, Sandra...

Cheryl Hines apparently backed into a Bedazzler.


Joan, your face looks great, but could you please moisturize your leathery cleavage? Or get your pool boy to do it, I don't care. It just needs to be done.


And here are some Bonus pictures:

At first glance, I thought this was Mama Cass. Incidentally, this is the face I get caught making in, like, every single candid photo of me. Oh, I know she's pregnant so I'll cut her some Maternity Formalwear slack, but c'mon, would you rather go Maternity Clothes Shopping with Gillian Anderson or


Heidi Klum? Yeah, me too.


And just for fun, guess who THIS guy is? King of the Dipshits! I wouldn't have guessed in a million years. Just thought I'd throw in an AMH pic for you 80's children.


I thought overall it was a pretty good show. The opening bit was hilarious. I loved the little Late Night touches like the guest appearance of Kareem Abdul-Jabaar, and Bob Newhart darn near stole the show.

I thought the Charlie's Angels thanking Aaron Spelling bit started out sweet but ran on about six minutes too long. Wasn't that just creepy after a while? Did Kate Jackson have her neck lengthened or something? I loved how they had one camera on Tori's mom and brother weeping and another camera on Tori (y'know, since they weren't sitting together...meeeeeeYOW!!)

I thought the reunion of Dick Clark and the very pretty Barry Manilow was just precious. Especially when we all know how much Barry Manilow appreciates dick. I mean, Dick.
(Sorry. Couldn't resist.)

Here are the winners, for the purposes of our little contest:

Outstanding Comedy Series
The Office

Outstanding Lead Actor - Comedy
Tony Shaloub - Monk

Outstanding Supporting Actor - Comedy
Jeremy Piven - Entourage

Outstanding Lead Actress - Comedy
Julia Louis-Dreyfuss - New Adventures of Old Christine
(Yeah. I double-checked.)

Outstanding Supporting Actress - Comedy
Megan Mullally - Will & Grace

Outstanding Drama Series
24

Ouststanding Lead Actor - Drama
Kiefer Sutherland - 24

Outstanding Supporting Actor - Drama
Alan Alda - The West Wing

Outstanding Lead Actress - Drama
Mariska Hargitay - Law and Order: SVU

Outstanding Supporting Actress - Drama
Blythe Danner - Huff

Outstanding Reality Show
The Amazing Race

And so, our winner, with a whopping THREE correct predictions, is...

Cpurl!!!

A prize worthy of your stellar efforts awaits you!

Red Carpet Party!

With Joan and Melissa!






It's really a shame for OLPP that they're not doing those Famous Huge Gift Bags full of expensive swag for the presenters anymore, I heard they were giving out free porcelain veneers...




Hollywood's new "It" Girl, Bezzie! Of course, they never said if "IT" was a good thing or a bad thing...



And CPurl's escort for the evening, a box of powdered donuts!

I Totally Love Awards Shows!

Email me your predictions and a pic of yourself in your Red Carpet Finest!! Beeb and I are going to play Joan and Melissa, and perhaps R will make a guest appearance as COJO!!

Here are (some of) the 2006 Emmy Nominees:

Outstanding Comedy Series
Arrested Development
Curb Your Enthusiasm
The Office
Scrubs
Two and a Half Men

How do you chose between A-D and The Office? I'm going to have to pick Arrested Development for nostalgia's sake, and hope that The Office continues to be brilliant. I don't have cable, so I'm not as familiar with CYE.


Outstanding Lead Actor - Comedy
Larry David - Curb Your Enthusiasm
Kevin James- King of Queens
Tony Shaloub - Monk
Steve Carell - The Office
Charlie Sheen - Two and a Half Men

I'm pretty confident that Steve Carell will take this one. Although I will say that my parents are HUGE Monk fans.


Outstanding Supporting Actor - Comedy
Will Arnett - Arrested Development
Jeremy Piven - Entourage
Bryan Cranston - Malcolm in the Middle
Jon Cryer - Two and a Half Men
Sean Hayes - Will & Grace

Too many worthy contenders here. I'd LOVE to see either Will Arnett or Bryan Cranston win, but for some reason I'm drawn to Jeremy Piven despite the fact that I've never seen this show. I know he parties with LindsayLo a lot.


Outstanding Lead Actress - Comedy
Lisa Kudrow - The Comeback
Jane Kaczmarek - Malcolm in the Middle
Julia Louis-Dreyfuss - New Adventures of Old Christine
Stockard Channing - Out of Practice
Debra Messing - Will and Grace

Ok, how many episodes of The New...Old Christine have aired? Like, three? Come on, people. I've never seen it. Never seen Out of Practice is either, but I thought it got cancelled, didn't it? Not to take anything away from any of these actresses, but to me, this just looks like they were stumped and thought "Well, who do we usually nominate?" Jane Kaczmarek is consistently brilliant and I'm still heartbroken that Malcolm is over (Hey FOX, release the rest of the seasons on DVD already!), and I would love for her to win, but I kinda think it will be Kudrow, even thought I've never seen her show either.


Outstanding Supporting Actress - Comedy
Cheryl Hines - Curb Your Enthusiasm
Alfre Woodard - Desperate Housewives
Jaime Pressly - My Name is Earl
Elizabeth Perkins - Weeds
Megan Mullally - Will & Grace

Ok, this is another tough call. I ABSOLUTELY LOVE Jaime Pressly as The Former Joy Hickey. But Elizabeth Perkins is straight-up genius too. And I've actually seen Weeds Season one on DVD (wanted to see what the "buzz" was about), and loved it. So I'll flip a coin here. Heads. Jaime Pressly.


Outstanding Drama Series
Grey's Anatomy
House
The Sopranos
24
The West Wing

I don't watch any of those shows, honestly, but I'll say House, just for fun. I think Hugh Laurie's kinda hot in a slightly creepy way.


Ouststanding Lead Actor - Drama
Christopher Meloni - Law and Order: SVU
Denis Leary - Rescue Me
Peter Krause - Six Feet Under
Kiefer Sutherland - 24
Martin Sheen - The West Wing

Again, I have no idea what I'm talking about. I think Six Feet Under is one of the all-time greatest shows ever. But part of me would just love to see Denis Leary win an Emmy Award because I would love to see his acceptance speech. I'll go with Leary.


Outstanding Supporting Actor - Drama
William Shatner - Boston Legal
Oliver Platt - Huff
Michael Imperioli - The Sopranos
Gregory Itzin - 24
Alan Alda - The West Wing

I think Shatner won last year. I'll go with Christopher Moltosanti this time. How I long for the next season of Sopranos to come out on DVD...


Outstanding Lead Actress - Drama
Kyra Sedgwick - The Closer
Geena Davis - Commander in Chief
Mariska Hargitay - Law and Order: SVU
Frances Conroy - Six Feet Under
Allison Janney - The West Wing

I've heard a lot about Kyra Sedgwick recently. I'm picking her. She's frickin gorgeous.


Outstanding Supporting Actress - Drama
Candice Bergen - Boston Legal
Sandra Oh - Grey's Anatomy
Chandra Wilson - Grey's Anatomy
Blythe Danner - Huff
Jean Smart - 24

Is Sandra Oh related to Sadaharu Oh? I think I remember reading that somewhere. I'll say Candice Bergen.


Outstanding Reality Show
The Amazing Race
American Idol
Dancing With The Stars
Project Runway
Survivor

My favorite category! But wait - where's America's Got Talent??? Where's America's Next Top Model??

And where's Hell's Kitchen, YOU DONKEYS?!!?!

I think The Amazing Race should win, and I hope The Hippies are in the audience. I loved those guys.

N is for Never Take Pictures While Driving

Unless it's a picture of a funny mud flap on a truck.



Eager Beaver Trailers.

I think a buncha guys got really drunk on PBR and one of them said,

"Hey, y'know whut? If I ever get my own trucking company - and it WILL happen, y'all - y'know what Imma gonna call it? EAGER BEAVER TRAILERS!! (Insert Roscoe P. Coltrane laugh) Shooooooot, I crack myself up..."


I'm behind on a couple of the (fill in the blank)-alongs I'm participating in. I have to figure out what I'm going to use in my Will It Float experiment. I'll see if I can get the Apes involved in that one. Then I have to figure out how to cleverly display my feet. I swear, if I get one freaky foot fetish comment I'll replace the pics with pictures of Hobbit Feet.

I took the boys to the Open House at their school (2 hours after it was over, but whatever) and I was able to confirm with one of the Preschool directors that if Little T doesn't figure out how to go "potty potty" before school starts, he won't be able to be in the preschool class and will have to go into the Mom's Day Out program. Not a big deal, but this means that instead of having three mornings a week all to myself, I'll have to send Ry 3 days a week and T would go just one day a week. I'm afraid T's going to prefer being home and having one-on-one time with me and he won't pee on the potty until his college roommate gets sick of T walking around with poopy pants saying, "Don't change me."

BUT there is hope. In the classroom that T would be in, should he suddenly decide he's tired of pooping in his pants, there is a really cool Thomas the Tank Engine chair. And only the big kids who can go potty potty can be in that room. So maybe that'll motivate him. If not, I bought M&M's, which were really meant for me, but I suppose I'll share them if he goes potty.

Weekend Preview:

We're going to Aunt Drama and Uncle Earhair's on Sunday.
I'm bringing my own BBQ sauce. Like Kramer and his maple syrup. Oh crap, I just remembered - I gotta take a dessert too. Maybe I'll just sprinkle some sugar on a pound of butter.

A gosh darn good day - with Rachele and Rachel!

So I got up this morning and I went to Aerobics! I can't believe that I went. I really thought my Borderline Undiagnosed Social Anxiety Disorder would get the best of me and I'd chicken out, but I didn't. I went and I made it all the way through the hour-long class. Eight classes for $10, then childcare is $2 per child per session. It's a pretty darn good deal and the class isn't full of little skinny bitches, so I think I'll go back on Thursday. I know I'm gonna feel totally gelatinous later.

I got the paperwork I needed from the boys' doctor for their Preschool Open House on Thursday. I hope they put T in the class where potty training is not a prerequisite. He's violently opposed to it. He screams and runs away when I suggest trying on the potty. I just keep telling myself, he won't wear diapers to college... he won't wear diapers to college...

I came home, had lunch, and took the boys to Knitorious to meet The Lovely Rachele! What a doll she is! She hung out with the boys and me, and it was really nice. She even watched as they put on a hip-hop dancing show while I perused the novelty yarns for something to make Pie's trophy out of.

How the f*ck am I gonna knit a trophy??








Rachele was such a good sport. My boys thought she was just awesome. They talked about her the whole way home. For some reason, Tito thought she was going to have green hair. Not sure what that's about.

PLUS, I was recognized by Rachel of RachelKnits! That's never happened to me before, it was a hoot! In the above pic, she's all the way over on the right. Rachel is supercool too, she was extremely helpful and patient and sweet, and, God love her, she even offered the suggestion of adding Lopi to the gold shiny Louisa Harding Glisten Yarn that Pie picked out for his trophy.

Have I told you all why the boy feels entitled to a trophy? I get him to eat his dinner by telling him to pretend that he's on Fear Factor. What that says about my cooking, I have no idea, but we all make a big fuss and cheer wildly when he eats a green bean or some equally repulsive vegetable, and it gets him to eat, so whatever.

So he asked me if he was the Fear Factor Champion, and I said "Um, sure, buddy!" and he said, "Don't you think I should have a trophy? Maybe you could knit me a trophy!" And the challenge was on. I was thinking I could model it after the Academy Award, but then I'm afraid it'd look like a big sparkly gold dildo or something. I'll have to putz around with it and see what I get.

Whenever I take the boys yarn shopping, I like to let them each pick a skein of something. That way, they feel like they're shopping too, and of course I get to knit with it (I reserve the right to veto any of their choices for price or Fugliness). Normally they choose the Galway Heather or the Cascade 220. Felting fascinates them. It kinda fascinates me too, come to think of it.

Tito, who loves anything blue, chose a lovely turquoise ball of Cascade Fixation. He's been toting it around with him like a stuffed animal. He won't let anyone touch it. It MY yarn, Mommy!!

Knitorious' new location on Watson Road is SO NICE! And I was really grateful that nobody made me feel like a jerk for bringing my kids in. Some places have given me dirty looks in the past, but not since Ry started wearing a knitted crown everywhere he goes. In a few more weeks, I'll be able to shop solo, but for now I have to take them everywhere I go. Plus, what I don't spend on a babysitter, I can spend on yarn. It all works out.

I have to go to Beeb's school tonight.
I'll tell Stella you all said hi.

Dean Intervenes, and Happy B'day FIL - Have Some Butter!

And the hits just keep on comin':

Dear Sarah,

Thank you for contacting Farter Communications.

I understand that you need a clarification with your billing.

I apologize for the inconvenience that this may have caused to you.

I would like to inform you that I am not authorized to provide the information of the bill beyond 6 months service. Hence I would request you to contact our customer care representative via telephone at 800-581-0081 to get the information regarding this issue. These representatives will be able to assist you better in resolving your issue.

Sincerely,

Dean
Farter Communications


Yeah. Dean's telling me to call the people I already called, right after the collection agency called me - the ones who SHOULD have called ME at least once over the last four years. I'm starting to think it was worth $150 to sever, once and for all, any ties I may have had with this Conglomeration of AssClowns.


So this weekend was the first major test of my more than two-week old caffiene-free/Wellbutrin free lifestyle. And guess what? I survived! As you may know, normally I begin stressing out 24-48 hours prior to a scheduled visit with the Inlaws. And I did not merely make it through Saturday, but I:

- discovered I'm once again WAY overdrawn (thanks to having to pay the $150 to Farter), and yet, didn't panic

- took the kids to the Library

- attempted a new recipe for a treat to take out to FIL for his birthday

- did laundry

- spent a full 30 minutes waiting for Tito to pee on his little potty, only to give up, put a diaper on him and change him 2 minutes thereafter

I actually got all the way through Saturday without even realizing it was a Saturday.

Then came Sunday. Normally, I'm white-knuckling it the whole 45-minute ride out to Chez FIL. This time, I brought some knitting, and R hooked up the dual-screen DVD playing Ren and Stimpy in the backseat for the kids. What a proud moment in my parental career; listening to my kids laugh hysterically at classic gross-out, twisted, rude cartoons. They loved it. My mother would kill me.

By the way, Ryan believes that I can make anything out of yarn. He wants me to knit him a duck and a trophy. I'm so flattered by his confidence in my ability.

Sunday went surprisingly well. And there was certainly potential for the day to suck. MIL and FIL had kept the Aldikids overnight, as Rev and Mrs. had somehow acquired tickets to the Rams game. I'm guessing someone was giving away free tickets, I'm pretty sure they didn't pay for them, as they are among the absolute cheapest cheapasses I've ever encountered.

If you're new to this blog, review the Aldi posts real quick:

HERE and HERE.

The Rev kept taaaaaaaaaalking and taaaaaaaaaaalking about the game - now remember in Napoleon Dynamite when Kip says "Napoleon, don't be jealous that I've been online chatting with babes ALL DAY..." Imagine the same voice saying "Yeah, what was so bad about the game was that the Rams were really bad, but the Texans really weren't very much better...if the Rams had just played better defense, we probably could have won..." Kip is TOTALLY The Rev.

Anything you say, The Rev'll think of a condescending yet incredibly pathetic statement that's intended to make you feel as though you know nothing and he knows everything. It's fascinating to me, because this is SUCH a FIL trait. And he talks FOREVER. Another FIL trait. I would so love to be a fly on the wall when The Rev goes to hang out with his FIL, Mrs. Aldi's dad, another self-deluded genius who thinks he knows everything worth knowing. I imagine it's a hilarious White Trash Dipshit Idiot Pissing Match that would end with the words "HEY, WATCH THIS!"

Here's a hypothetical conversation you might recognize:

Mrs. Aldi's Dad: Rev, I reckon... you know a lot about... cyberspace? You ever come across anything... like time travel?
Rev Aldi: Easy, I've already looked into it for myself.
Mrs. Aldi's Dad: Right on... right on.

But anyway, my recipe for homemade toffee bars was quite well-received. Lemme let you in on a lil secret. FIL has high cholesterol. Every recipe I take out there has a minimum of two sticks of butter in it. MMMWHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. FIL liked the toffee (four sticks of butter) and has requested that I make the white chocolate fudge I took him when he was in the hospital (two sticks of butter) the next time we go out there. I was all too happy to oblige.

Oh, while I'm thinking about it, for his birthday gift, I framed a piece of really pretty Marbelized Paper that Beeb made at her art class over the summer. It had her name in the bottom corner, and it looked really nice. His reaction wasn't "Oh, that's beautiful!", it was "You should have written the date on it".

The old me would have gotten pissed, but this new me just had to laugh - that was a complaint I sure hadn't anticipated. Seriously, it must be such a chore for him to think of new snide comments. Just shutting the hell up and saying thank you would be so boring. Thanks, FIL, for keeping it fresh. Jackass.

Unbelievable Farter Update

Familiarize yourselves with THIS earlier post first.


I awoke to find this little gem in my Inbox:

Dear Sarah,

Thank you so much for contacting Farter Communications. I am Chriss and I am glad to assist you in resolving to your concern.

I understand that you are concerned with your billing amount and want a clarification.

I certainly understand your concern and apologize for the delay in responding to your email.

Sarah please contact our Technical Support representatives at 800-581-0081 for information regarding this issue. They may be reached 24 hours a day, seven days a week. I am unable to assist you as I am a billing representative and my expertise is limited to resolving billing related inquiries.

Alternatively, you may also use our live chat feature located on our website at http://www.Farter.com/ and the local contact information can also be found at http://www.Farter.com/service/contact/contact.asp.

Please write to us for any further assistance. We value you as a customer and look forward to providing you with consistent and effective service.

Thank you for contacting Farter Communications.


Sincerely,

Chriss
Farter Communications.


You bet I was all over that. My response:



I'm sorry - How is this a Technical Support issue??

I do NOT currently have Farter Service.

I want a clarification of a BILL from 2002, when I was a customer.

You just told me, "I understand that you are concerned with your billing amount and want a clarification... I am unable to assist you as I am a billing representative and my expertise is limited to resolving billing related inquiries."

That doesn't make any sense.

All I want is for someone to send me a copy of my final bill and to explain why it took almost four years for you to contact me. If you are unable to do this, please forward my information to someone who can help.

Thank you.


(Ed. Note: You have no idea how badly I wanted to add the words "You Fuckin Moron".)

Introducing Two new Characters!

You remember the back-to-school excitement of finding out who's going to be in your class when school starts? Beeb's two best friends are together in another class. This was hard for Beebie. There are some nice girls in her class, though, and Beeb's got a really good teacher.

But there's a girl in Beeb's class who has a mom I don't really like. I'll call her Stella Dallas, even though it would make more sense for me to call myself Stella Dallas instead, because that's who she makes me feel like. If you haven't seen the movie Stella Dallas, friends, you owe it to yourself to watch it, even if it's only to help you better relate to me. Seriously, watch it, and suddenly I'll make sense to you.

Anyway, the expression on Stella's face constantly looks like she just sniffed spoiled meat. She's reeeeeeeeeeeeeeally skinny and has a disproportionately large head, kinda like a heart-shaped light bulb.

Ok, we all know I have self-esteem issues, but I have seen her literally turn her back to me every time I walk into a room that she's in. R's witnessed it and he agrees. I'm not imagining it.

I don't hate her or anything. She's apparently a very nice person to everyone else, she's just really, really unfriendly to me. Now, I know I'm a little outspoken, even a little zany (ok, more than a little), but I'm a nice person. So if someone acts like they can't stand me and I have no idea why, it really bugs me. The only reason I can think of that would give her a reason not to like me goes back five years, to when Beeb was in Kindergarten.

I was determined to give Beeb every opportunity to learn new things and make new friends and have fun, so I went to the parents' informational meeting about the Daisy Scouts. Back in my day, they were called Pixie Scouts, but apparently Pixie was offensive to someone, so Daisies they became. Pie was still a baby, and I had JUST (literally just the day before) found out I was having Tito in four months, which is a story for another day, but I digress.

Several parents were at the meeting, including Stella Dallas and some other parents of kids in Beeb's class. The invitation was made for some parent to take over the duties of Troop Leader.

(crickets chirping)

Now, if no one stepped up at this point, there would be no troop. Everyone turned to look at the one person in the room whom they knew was just crazy enough to volunteer. Yup, me.

Ok, here's the thing, I HAD NEVER, EVER, DONE THIS BEFORE. I had NO IDEA what I was in for. NONE. I was absolutely f*ckin clueless, and they knew it. I said it, out loud, numerous times at this meeting. I made it clear from the beginning that I was COMPLETELY IGNORANT about how to run a Daisy troop. I'm sure there were going to be lots of National Policies and stuff I hadn't even thought about yet, and as a new mom who just found out she's pregnant again, I'd need a LOT of help.

Oh, you'll be fine! said Stella and the Other Moms. We'll ALL help you!! Great. Fine. Sign me up, since no one else loves their kid enough to volunteer. Sheesh. But hear me well - I'M GONNA HAVE TO QUIT WHEN THIS BABY COMES. Everybody got that? Good.

Later, I found out that the reason I was chosen as the sacrificial lamb had nothing at all to do with their confidence in my ability to lead 6 -year-olds. No, it was all about preventing the woman that Stella et al did NOT want in power from volunteering to take over Troop Leader Duties. I'll call this woman Dr. Eyeball because a) she's an eye doctor and b) the name sounds as creepy as she is. Dr. Eyeball looks a lot like Bree Van De Kamp from Desperate Housewives.

In fairness to Stella, Dr. Eyeball is a complete freakin nutjob, but I'd rather have an experienced complete freakin nutjob running the show than an inexperienced complete freakin moron like myself. A creative genius, yes, of course I am. A multitasking, meticulously organized, well-oiled machine, um, NO. I had the field trips and petal-earning projects down. But permission slips? Huh?? Dues? Snacks? Huh??? I left the meeting with everyone's phone numbers and email addresses, and a stack of papers and books taller than me.

After the meeting adjourned, I was cornered by Dr. Eyeball in the hall. She started by politely introducing herself. She seemed very nice and sincere at first, but as she kept talking I began to realize the enormity of the shitpot I had just voluntarily allowed myself to be pushed into.

She explained to me (her perception of) the group dynamic of the moms in the room and said she didn't want to volunteer to be the troop leader because in the past there had been some issues between her troop and her ex-husband's Cub Scout troop (red flag - ongoing domestic dispute), but she did want to help with the troop and she very kindly offered to assist me in any way she could, since she'd been the troop leader before.

Two more things I didn't realize at the time of the meeting -

#1 - Dr. Eyeball's creepy ex-husband and creepy new wife (who looked like she could have been his mother - ugh. Dude, aren't ya supposed to trade up?) were in attendance at this meeting. No wonder the awkwardness in the room had been totally palpable, I thought it was just me.

And #2 - This was a very cleverly calculated passive-aggressive move on her part, and I'd have to deal with this woman's unresolved bitterness bullshit for the next four months, simply because she was the first person to offer to help me and I obviously didn't know any better.

Oh, and #3 - NOBODY liked Dr. Eyeball. Nobody, not even me, but I was too foolish and polite to be mean to her like the other moms wanted me to. I was constantly pulled in two directions. I'd want to be nice to her because I'm a nice person and she'd never been anything but pleasant to me personally. And then on the other hand, I'd want to please the majority, including Stella, who was always coming up with semi-tactful propsals to exclude Dr. Eyeball from the troop's plans. The reality was that I was the Troop Leader in name only.

It was a fuckin Daisy Troop puppet regime, is what it was.

Oh, it was awful, y'all. Total disaster. Stella was, and still is, an uptight control freak who doesn't want to look like a control freak. And Dr. Eyeball was, and still is, just a plain ol' freak. And it was sad beacause the ones who really suffered were the kids. The kids... isn't this supposed to be FUN for them??

Fast forward four months to Baby Tito and my departure from the Daisy Troop. Although they'd had time to find a replacement for me, again, no one volunteered. So they tried to rope me into it again.

Oh FUCK NO. You couldn't PAY me. NO NO NO NO NO NO NO.

NO.

I stuck to my guns and let someone else take over. And guess who did? Dr. Eyeball. This, I believe, is the reason why Stella dislikes me. I abandoned the Daisy Troop that I'd never really been in charge of. How dare I force the rest of the parents to work out their petty squabbles so their kids could take part in the humbling experience of selling overpriced cookies (Oh, and by the way, there is NO discount for troop leaders, I found that out after ordering $40 worth, thank you very much)?

Then, the next year a totally cool woman took over the troop. She was great. She had tattoos and rode a Harley. I totally adored her, simply because she was SO not a soccer mom, in a tradtionally soccer mom-esque role. Those are my favorite kinds of moms. As far as soccer moms, I got nuthin against them, but I always feel like they they're looking down on me. I acknowledge that in most cases it's in my head, but not when it comes to Stella.

Apparently, there is no escape from Stella. The next year we changed schools. And so did Stella's daughter. Fortunately, Dr. Eyeball's kids did not change schools, and I have not seen Dr. Eyeball since, except that she used to have her picture in advertisements on the carts at my grocery store (yes, the one that sells Fruit Bowels). If I ever see one, I'll take a picture for you. I promise.

Stella, however, is visible at every school event. She's in a PTO position of power. When school started I realized that I'd forgotten how much I dread school events. I hate running into her. Again, I don't hate HER, I hate how seeing her makes me feel. It reminds me of what a spineless idiot I was to let myself get suckered into doing something that everybody else was smart enough not to volunteer for. (Ed. note: The lesson learned here is that when nobody wants to volunteer for something, there's probably a good reason.)

Whenever I see Stella talking to other Pokey Oaks Elementary Moms, I feel like Stella's telling them the story of how I didn't realize what a big deal the Investiture Ceremony was and how I had no idea that I was supposed to plan a skit and how I quite inappropriately showed up in jeans.

Here's where a Stella Dallas movie reference would be appropriate. There is one scene where Stella's planning her daughter Lolly's birthday party. Lolly's invited all her friends, together they did all the decorations, and unbeknownst to the both of them, the other mothers called around and badmouthed Stella as an unfit parent (Stella's a single mom who's made some questionable choices about the company she keeps), and consequently, nobody came to Lolly's party. Incidentally, the one year we invited Stella's daughter to Beeb's birthday party, Stella never even called to RSVP, further testament to why I call her Stella Dallas.

So it should be an interesting school year. R thinks I should volunteer for Stella's PTO committee just to mess with her big ol' heart-shaped light bulb head.

Perhaps.


Oh, and some other stuff:

The salmon was great, thanks to Cbear and Morgsarah and all who offered cooking advice in the chat room.

Tito has absolutely ZERO desire to go potty on the potty. It's wearing me out.

And in honor of the long-awaited America's Got Freaks Finale -

HERE's a little Hoff-luvin!



ADDED, cuz I couldn't resist.




SNARKYWOOD's a great blog.

Yucky Blast From The Past

I know it must be difficult to work for a collection agency.
Cuz nobody's EVER glad you called.

I try to be sensitive to any customer service/collection rep I talk to on the phone because R works in a call center dealing with pissy people all day. And it makes me sad to think that people are mean to him.

That said...

I got a call from a collection agency yesterday regarding my Cable Bill.

Oh, there must be some mistake, I said, I haven't had cable for, like, four years.

This is for your final bill, ma'am.

My final bill, from 4 years ago?

Yes ma'am. From 2002.

Are you kidding me? I haven't heard one word from you all in this time, haven't gotten one past-due notice in the mail...

We don't forward mail, ma'am.

What?? Then how do you expect to get people to PAY you?

You never gave us your new address.

Ok, well, I didn't know I owed you anything! I cancelled my service long before I moved out of my apartment, and when I moved I gave the post office my forwarding address, and my phone number stayed the same when I moved, you still could have contacted me.

I don't work for The Cable Company, I don't have all the information.

So I paid the bill (postdating so I can stop payment if this turns out to be a big stupid mistake) and I called The Cable Company (the name of which, appropriately, rhymes with FARTER) just to confirm that this is a legitimate bill.

I explained that I just got a call from this Collections Agency and whatever, and I'm so pissed off, I'm shaking. I told the Farter rep that I was afraid this Collections Agency is a scam and I just gave my bank information to them.

Yes ma'am, I'm showing an outstanding balance of $154.27.

When was somebody ever going to tell me I had an outstanding balance? I mean, how does this happen? It's been outstanding for three years. This is appalling...

I'm showing that someone did try to contact you in November 2005.

By "tried to contact", could that possibly mean that someone called and left a cryptic message and I, thinking it had to be a mistake since I haven't had cable in FOUR YEARS, deleted it? That's the only attempt that was made, almost a whole year ago?

You'd have to take that up with the collection agency, ma'am.


Oh, HELL no.

So I emailed Farter Communications thusly:

I just got a call from a collection agency regarding an account I had with Farter over 3 years ago. I had cancelled my account and apparently the final bill was never forwarded to my new address.

It has been over 3 years and, to my knowledge, not one attempt has been made to contact me, although my phone number remained the same and I had all my mail forwarded to my new address.

HOW did this happen? I would gladly have taken care of this balance immediately rather than let it sit on my credit report for a full three years. If you review my account, you can see that I was a good customer who stayed current and paid the bills each month. I am absolutely appalled that my credit has suffered as a result of Farter's inability to follow-up on this bill in a timely fashion.

I would like to see a written explanation of your past-due billing policies, because getting a call from a collection agency regarding a bill that is this old was a complete shock to me. To me, it appears that you've dumped the responsibility of contacting your customer onto someone else who knows nothing about the situation.

I would have appreciated even a minimal amount of customer service from Farter. Instead, I was forced to ask questions about my account to someone who has no information about my account. How do I even know this bill is legitimate?

I did not want this outstanding balance to remain on my credit one more day, so without hesitation, I paid it in full. However, I would like to express my profound disappointment in your customer service and billing systems.


And here's what I got back:


Dear Sarah,

Thank you so much for contacting Farter Communications.

I understand that you are concerned with your past due balance and you want a clarification regarding that amount.

I looked into your account and I see that the amount of $154.27 is due on your account.Since, your account is no more with the Fharter , I request you to follow the guidelines given by the collection agency. I also request you to pay the due balance as soon as possible.

For further questions please do not hesitate to call us again.

Thank you for contacting Farter Communications.

Sincerely,

Chriss
Farter Communications.


Um, yeah. Chriss (two S's - that's not a typo), dude, did you even read what I wrote?

I wrote back AGAIN:


I do have some additional questions, actually.

I would like to see a copy of my final bill.

I would also like to see something in writing regarding your past-due policies.

I would also like to know how long a bill is past due in your system before you send it to Collections.

Basically, I would like to know how long this outstanding bill has been sitting on my credit report without my knowledge.

I am extremely upset that my account went to collections without Farter ever attempting to contact me at my new address. I had NO idea that I owed you anything. I cancelled my service before I moved out of my apartment three years ago, and when I moved, I gave the post office my forwarding address so any mail would have gotten to me, and my phone number stayed the same when I moved. Farter could easily have contacted me, but no one did. Farter obviously had to provide my contact information to their Collections agency, right?

According to the representative I spoke to yesterday, the last time anyone tried to contact me regarding my account was in November of 2005. I have no memory of this attempt to contact me, and the rep had no record of any other attempts made to contact me. Interesting.

If someone "tried to contact" me by leaving me a cryptic message on my answering machine, I probably thought it had to be a mistake since I haven't had cable in THREE YEARS, and deleted it. That's the only attempt that was made, almost a whole year ago? Is it possible that an employee could have updated the account falsely to make it appear that they were doing work that they didn't actually do? Sending me a notice in the mail might have been a better idea.

I understand that once an account goes to Collections, it's no longer your concern, but the problem at that point is that the collection agency has very little information to go on when they (finally) call me, and I wind up calling Farter anyway to confirm that I have an outstanding balance, but they have no information either, because it's gone to Collections. So who's supposed to help me?

Perhaps Farter needs to consider a new Collections agency, because Asmi (Ed: Isn't "Ass-me" a funny name for a Collection Agency?) is clearly not contacting your customers and collecting your debts in a timely manner. Of course, if Farter would have make a better effort to contact their customers who have outstanding balances, perhaps there wouldn't be a need for a Collections Agency. I'm sure that if Farter would have made a slightly-less-than-minimal effort to contact me over the last three years, my account would never have gone to Collections in the first place.

I have paid this bill in full, and I will never be a Farter Customer again.

--- end of crabby email ---

I'm so pissed. We're trying to clean up our credit so we can buy a house next year. You can bet yer sweet ass I won't be installing Farter Cable there.

C'mon, Fight the Power! Fight the Power that...Isn't.

UPDATE: PICS ADDED!

Sumthin's up with the power supply to my 'puter, so I'm on the kids' 'puter. GAH! This means I can't download the pics I took of the latest additions to my stash. Hopefully R will resolve the issue tout de suite.

What is better than receiving yarny surprises in the mail??? First, here's the RASK(Random Act of Supreme Kindness) I got from YOSHIMI. It's All Things Heather sock yarn in a kinda light pinky-greeny colorway and some calming tea and a cutiepoo lil tin of mints. Yoshimi, ubercoolness radiates from you! And the fact that you dig The Trachtenberg Family Slide Show Players too, that's just icing on the cake.

And then there is the latest skein I received from my One Skein Pal. It smells awesome! There wasn't a note, but I'm guessing maybe it was Kool-Aid dyed? If so, she did a really nice job and I love the colors. Thanks, OSSP!

I really have enjoyed the One-Skein Secret Pal project. I thought it was very well-organized and the moderators were extremely nice, even when they had to remind me that I was behind on sending my July package (bad me). It was a real challenge to choose just one skein from the countless yarns available and send it to someone you don't really know, and of course I'm always dealing with my constant sense of self-doubt that pervades every single aspect of my life. Some days, I just feel like I suck at everything. I feel like I even suck at sucking. But even with all my issues, I had fun because I love making/doing/shopping for other people.

That said, I'm happy to announce that I've decided on a One-Skein Project (finally!) for my pal. It was hard because I wanted to take on a project that I knew I can complete and do a good job, but there was also a part of me that wanted to challenge myself a little and go beyond the garter stitch scarf (which is about the only project I could complete with 100% confidence in my ability). But of course I didn't want my gift to suck, so I think I found a good project for me and I hope my pal likes it. I'm using one of my favorite Noro colorways, #124.

Anyway, in pharmaceutical news, I've cut back a lot on my Wellbutrin. No real reason other than that I've stopped drinking soda completely, and my morning routine used to be, pop open a Diet Coke and pop in the meds. I'm out of the routine, yet I feel surprisingly good about it. I've been sleeping WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY better, other than the boys' occasional request for chocolate milk at 4am. It does take me a little longer to get started in the morning, but really, I can live with it. I was kinda hoping I'd have lost a little weight by now, but I haven't yet. Poo. So, today I plan to sign up for Bellydancing and Pilates classes. And maybe aerobics too. I'm gonna look like Lara Flynn Boyle, Baybeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!

That was a JOKE.

I came up with an idea for a totally goofy original pattern using cheapass yarn and easy stitches. I want my idiotic patterns to be accessible to all. Stay tuned.

Oh, and in News That Should Come as a Great Relief to my Global Fan Base, R quite wisely pointed out that if Reverend Aldi did happen to fall upon this blog, he's the sort who erroneously believes that he's reeeeeally funny and he would want to point out to us a) that we weren't smart enough to conceal it very well, and b) just how clever he was to find it. The Rev would be totally unable to resist saying something dorkily snarky at a family gathering, such as "Oh, Sarah, you're so hilarious I could just sit here and Behold Your Brilliance all day..." (when R said it in the Rev's Eeyore/Charlie Brown's Teacher/Napoleon Dynamite's brother Kip voice, I agreed with R 100%), he would have let us know by now. R's absolutely right. So I think we're safe. Long live the Aldibash!

This coming Sunday we will be going out to Chez FIL. It's gonna be FIL's birthday. I thought maybe I'd intentionally knit him something that sucked just to see if he'd tell me it sucked or if he'd make the effort to wear something that sucked in my presence to make me feel good. I'm pretty sure he would have told me everything that was wrong with it had it not been for my total f*ckin breakdown the last time we were out there, In Which R very compassionately stood up for me and explained to my inlaws how I work really hard for FIL's approval. Isn't R the very best? Oh yeah, he is.

And, in Reality Show Wrap-up, HEATHER was the Hell's Kitchen winner. Beebie and I wept with joy. She worked her arse off, and she deserved to win. Tonight on Big Brother, Janelle will put up Danielle and Erika, Danielle will win the Veto, and Janelle will put up MARCELLAS. That does it, Janelle and I can't be friends. Tomorrow is the America's Got Idiots finale! I'm still hoping for the Harmonica Kid and my second choice would be Passing Zone (the juggling comedians). And I still say Leonid The Magnificent wuz ROBBED!

I'm so happy Rachele's coming in tomorrow! Maybe I can talk her into attending the BamBeno (featuring Meteorologist Glenn Zimmerman) show this weekend!


UPDATE: PICS ADDED!

RAK FROM YOSHIMI

ONE SKEIN SECRET PAL

Surprise! No Poop!

I'm discovering a very clear connection between how I am awakened in the morning and how the rest of my day goes.

This morning, thankfully, was not Poop-related. It was,

MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHM!
WE'RE ALL OUT OF SPOONS!!

We're not really out of spoons, we're just out of clean spoons. The kids have been on a cereal kick recently and, unfortunately, nobody's been on a Doing The Dishes kick. Least of all, me.

Tomorrow, I'll let you know how the rest of my day went. I'm thinking of buying a Powerball Ticket.


And how appropriate is this??

'What will your obituary say?' at QuizGalaxy.com

Poop Stories #2 (Get it? Number 2??) and #3.

Every law that is in effect today exists because there was some kind of problem caused by the lack of this law. For example, in Missouri, it's against the law for a milk man to run while on duty. Why? Who knows, but there HAS to be a reason.

Are there dumb laws in your state? Have a look!
Amuse yourselves HERE at dumblaws.com.

Although some of these laws may sound ridiculous to us now, it's safe to assume that at the time, the parties involved felt that the ensuing drama was, at the very least, inconvenient enough to warrant taking steps to make sure that the same problem NEVER occurred again. Sometimes it's kinda funny to imagine the circumstances surrounding the origins of these laws.

Here's what I'm getting at, folks. There's a new law at the Karma house.

NO HATS ALLOWED IN THE BATHROOM.

Oh, you KNOW there's a story. Here we go...

"Mommeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!
I need you to WIPE ME!"

No, you don't need me to wipe you, I mutter silently. You're perfectly capable of doing it yourself.

"Maaaaaaaah haaaaaaaah haaaaaaaah
Meeeeee heeeeeeee heeeeeeee heeeeeeeeeeeee!!!"

Oh, for Christ's sake.

I stood in the hallway outside the bathroom and saw Pie sitting on the throne wearing nothing but his Narnia Knight's Helmet.

Before I could stop him, he hopped down from the potty, turned around and, bending at the waist, placed his hands on the seat so as to present me his hiney.

Brief refresher course for the non-parents: "WIPE ME" means there's POOP.

In the blink of an eye, sploosh... his helmet fell right into the potty. Where the poop was. Fabulous.

He turned around with a look that wondered whether I was going to laugh or yell at him. I didn't do either. I merely stated, very calmly,

"Ok, new rule. No hats in the bathroom."

Yeah, this is quickly becoming more of a Poop blog than a Knitting blog. Sorry.

Earlier that same morning, Tito woke me at 6am by clocking me in the skull with a diaper and a package of wipes. And what do wipes mean, kids? Say it with me now:

POOP.

So I sluggishly sat up and instructed T to lie down on the bed so I could clean him up. Even through my as-yet unfocused eyes, I could see something strange on his hand. I've been a mom for a while now, so my instinct was to grab a wipe, quickly clean his hand and ask questions later. As soon as I did, T gasped in horror,

"Hey! Where my Poo Finger go?!!?"

I guess Tito and Poo Finger had been having a lot of fun frolicking through sunny fields of daisies (or, more likely, coloring on walls) together until Evil Mommy tore them asunder. Instantly, the theme song from The Courtship of Eddie's Father started up on a loop inside my head.

"People let me tell you 'bout my best friend,
He's a warm hearted person who'll love me till the end (duh).
People let me tell you bout my best friend,
He's a one boy cuddly toy, my up, my down, my pride and joy.

People let me tell you 'bout him he's so much fun
Whether we're talkin' man to man or whether we're talking son to son.
Cause he's my best friend.
Yes he's my best friend."
(Yadda Yadda Yadda, Whoops).

Ok, I really, really, REALLY apologize for that. I mean, I'm sorry for the song-stuck-in-your-head aspect of the story and I'm also sorry for the visual of a little boy singing about the poop on his finger. And I'm also sorry to anyone that now feels really old for remembering that show.

Would you have preferred Shirley Bassey?

Poo Fingah (wah WAAAAAAAH wah)
He's the man, the man with the poopy touch
A proctologist's touch
Such a cold finger
Beckons you to enter his web of sin
But don't go in...

Yeeeeeah, somehow, the James Bond theme seems a little dark for a story about a three-year-old. I opted for the Best Friend song, as it is merely disturbing.

Anyhoo, R and I decided that the next time we go to a restaurant, we're going to enter our name as Poofinger, only pronounce it as Puffin-Jerr. Just to see how the hostess pronounces it. And we'll snicker with glee. You're welcome to try it at home, if you feel daring.

And here, as promised, is a pic of King Pie. This is, incidentally, the Narnia shield and sword that goes with the helmet as a set. At the time this pic was taken, the helmet was soaking in bleach. He wore the crown to the mall last night.

I'm a Trader Joe Ho.

My life just got really boring all of a sudden. Ok, it was always boring, but now I'm just kinda feeling more bored with it than usual.

Last week, I was driving everybody around all morning. This week, Beeb has one more day of Geek Camp (oh, sorry - Chess Camp). Then we'll have absolutely nothing to do until next Tuesday, when Beeb goes to her first Ambassadors event. Then she starts school the next day.

This morning's big event was taking the kids to see Babaloo at the mall. He's kinda like Raffi, only funnier. He sings about underwear a lot. Kids love that shit. I had him autograph a CD for The Ape Squad. He actually made it out to THE APE SQUAD. How awesome is that???

So, what else have I been doing recently? I've been hanging out at Trader Joe's. I'm working really hard on resisting the lure of the convenience of Fast Food. When I'm out in the car, shuttling kids around, it's so tempting to swing by Lion's Choice or Sonic. We try to stay away from the Golden Arcs (Trivia: What classic 80's movie has the main character working under the Golden Arcs?), even though I know that all fast food is equally bad for you.

Here's what I've been doing. Sometimes I just want to eat something other than the stuff I have at home. It's not unlike yarn shopping. Intellectually, I know that I probably have more yarn than I will live long enough to use. But sometimes, it's just fun to get something different. So, the new food rule is, if I want something other than what I already have at home, I have to get it at a grocery store, the idea being that I'm gonna have to cook it anyway, so I'll have to decide if I reeeeeeeeeeally want to take the time to go out and buy something. I'm supposed to decide NO. But I don't. I fall victim to the lure of "Hey, it's organic! It's overpriced! It probably tastes like crap, so it must be good for you!"

My current favorite grocery store is, as I mentioned, Trader Joe's. It's small enough that you can get in and out in just a few minutes, especially if you know what you're looking for. If you have time to browse, you will find food products you never knew existed, because the mere idea behind them seems contradictorily absurd. But if you're not careful, the abundance of beautifully-packaged meatless meat might make you believe that you can seamlessly switch your family to all-veg products without anyone ever tasting the difference.

I appreciate what they're trying to do, but look... you can NOT squish a whole lot of whatever Tofu is into a nugget-shaped mold and convince me it's just as good as a big ol' greasy piece of chicken. Yeah, I KNOW it's better for me, but eeeewww!!

But they put these really yummy looking pictures on the front of the box and they just look so appetizing, I fell for it. I fell big time. I got the Meatless Barbecue Ribs, Meatless Meatballs, Meatless Hamburgers, and Chickenless Chicken Nuggets. They looked so YUMMY on the boxes! As I unpacked the fauxmeat and put it in the freezer, however, I started to feel like a big dumb meat-eatin' chump.

I tried to pass the Chickenless Chicken Nuggets off on the kids. I even thought about getting out the video camera to capture their reactions, but I was afraid they'd think something was up. Their reactions were actually less dramatic than I'd envisioned, but Tito did say in his throaty Russian accent, "This tastes very bad." I had to agree.

I really, really REALLY respect and admire the people with the resolve to not eat meat. I do. Because, and I say this with all due respect, it will never be me. I'll risk Mad Cow, Bird Flu, Botulism, Salmonella - BRING IT. I'm eating MEAT, y'all. Is it any less risky than eating unpesticided soy beans infested with beetle larvae? I'm not asking to be mean or nasty, I truly am ignorant (in the truest sense of the word) when it comes to vegetarian/vegan stuff. Seriously, I have nothing against the non-meat eaters at all, unless they get all up in my carnivorous bidniss, telling me why I should be a vegetarian too. And the more they try to convert me, the more I just wanna eat a big ol' sinewy turkey leg in front of them with my mouth open.

I know the preachy types are the minority. But lemme give you a couple of examples of the morons I've dealt with in the past.

Psycho Vegetarian #1, my college roommate. She didn't want to eat meat because she believed it was cruel to animals. Meanwhile, she had a totally kickass leather jacket that I coveted. I tried to talk her into giving it to me, but she didn't. Somehow leather wasn't the same thing. Oh, and P.S., she was BULEMIC. So what the hell difference did it make what she ate anyway? Sheesh.

Psycho Vegetarian #2, a co-worker at Aveda. Once she saw me eating Chicken Fried Rice from the food court and said, "Omigod, I could never eat anything that had, like, y'know, EYES." She'd had three abortions at age 22. Ok, so you won't eat a chicken, but... oh, never mind, I don't even wanna go there. I'm not sayin' she shouldn't have had three abortions, I mean, do whatcha want, but you can't tell me there's not at least a teeny bit of irony there.

My All-Time Favorite #1 Totally Cool Vegetarian, My Uncle. Amylovie's Dad is one of the straight-up funniest people I've ever met. Funny on purpose, not like the Aldi side of my family, where they're totally oblivious to how hilarious we (and when I say "we" I mean myself, R, you, and everyone within the sphere of this blog's influence *snort*) find them. Funny like doing hysterical magic shows for the kids. Funny just for the sake of funny. The side of my family that I share with Amylovie, I'm sure she'd agree is darn near impossible to decribe without using the term "non-stop zany-yet-controlled goofiness". We've got a family reunion coming up in November, and I can hardly wait. Plus, PLUS, PLUS, I'm gonna hang with BEZZIE. Is it wrong that I'm as excited about that as I am about going to Yarntopia? Maybe Bezz can come to Yarntopia with me...

Anyway, so back to Trader Joe's. They opened a new one on the road I take to Beebie's Geek Camp, so today after I dropped her off, I took the boys with me to TJ's. I really just wanted something to drink, as I was feeling a little parched, but I left with a can of diet root beer, a bottle of Smart Water (electrolyte-injected), a box of cookies, two organic cheese pizzas, a ceasar salad, a bag of popcorn with 50% less fat than whatever other kind is made by the same company, and two CLIF protein bars.

Why do I do this? I'm such a sucker. I just wanna be trendy and cool like the other cool people who shop at Trader Joe's!

And lemme tell ya, that that low-fat popcorn tasted like sawdust held together by buttcrack sweat.

The pizzas, however, were delicious.

And the Smart Water tasted like water.

And I sure as hell don't feel any smarter.



Tease for next post: I finished King Pie's Crown! Man, did I ever eff up that pattern. But he's happy, so it's cool.

Big Brother Spoiler!

Danielle is HOH.

She's nominated James and Janelle.

Oh, it's ONNNNNNNNNN!!!!!!


UPDATE: Janelle won the POV (dammit!!), so now Dani has to put someone else up. James has the power to nullify one of the eviction votes, and it appears that he is trying to get Danielle to put Marcellas up.

I don't have the feeds, but HERE is a cool spot where you can get updates on the goings-on in the BB House, plus there's a Yahoo group for Big Bro All Stars and spoilers are often posted!

Warning: Poop Story. Warning: Hasselhoff Story. (two different stories, I should probably clarify)

Just as I sat down to write about a completely different topic, I heard Tito yelling from an undeterminable area of the house,

"MOMMYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY! I NEED SOME WIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIPES!"

Not a towel, wipes.

What can we assume from this? Spilled juice is pretty much ruled out, as wipes are not very absorbent, and even little kids know this (usually after learning the hard way). I'm gonna break it down for y'all who are not parents of pre-schoolers. When they're yelling for wipes, chances are, more than likely, there's POOP involved.

I found Tito ON MY BED. NAKED. Covered in POOP. Scary, no?

Even scarier: The diaper was nowhere to be found.

I'm proud of myself for not getting angry. Really, I am. I didn't freak. I asked Beeb to bring me a wet washcloth with soap on it, and I wiped the little guy down, head (yes, HEAD) to toe. While in the bathroom, Beeb found the poopy dipe in the trashcan and she assured me that T didn't make as big a mess as I'd feared. Thank GOD.

I actually told him I was proud of him for trying to take care of it himself. We've been working really hard on emphasizing the Independence that comes with being Fully Potty Trained. Oh, remember the pic I put up of the Potty Picnic the kids had with Tito on the potty? I forget when it was, exactly, but that was literally the last time any of us could get him to sit on the damn thing. He shrieks in terror at the very mention of the word Potty.

NOOOOOOOOOO! I NO LIKE POTTIES!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!

Today, I got all Dr. Phil on him and asked him to tell me why he doesn't like potties. Turns out, he's afraid he'll fall in and get flushed into the ocean. I'm thinkin, Dude, it's been hot enough, if I could I'd flush my damn self into the ocean right now...

So we dusted off The Singing Potty. Ok, it doesn't really sing, it plays a fanfare whenever somebody does something on the potty. By "does something", I don't even necessarily mean Peeing, I mean moving around even just a little bit. It's motion-sensitive.

Anyway, he got the "pull the dipe off" part, I just wish it had been in conjunction with the "sit on the potty and let the Poop come out THERE" part. At this point, though, I'll take what I can get.

Ok, so onto what I was GONNA write about -

If you happened to read my post yesterday, you saw that I was waffling (I love the word Waffle as a verb) about whether or not I was going to watch America's Got a Serious Lack of Talent. Well, curiousity got the best of me, I'm ashamed to say. I did get to see Brandy's Worst Hairdo EVER (girrrrrrrrrrrl,what is WITH those bangs??) and the Burlesque Dancer gyrating on David Hasselhoff's Beloved KITT. If you didn't see it, you couldn't PAY me to describe it to you. Seriously. It started out kinda clever, and it so quickly spiraled into the abyss of poor taste - I mean, that's about the best I can do to paint a picture for you without reliving the horror myself. And it was bad enough the first time.

Maybe there's a link on the web site, lemme check...

Ok, click here and scroll down to Semifinal Highlight "How far will Michelle go..."

Don't say I didn't warn ya.

And, in case you felt profoundly disappointed that you missed David Hasselhoff's classic stylings on America's Got a Bunch of Fuckin Freaks, fear not! The Beloved German Wonderboy (as in "I Wonder Why The Hell That Buttmunch Is Still On TV")is "singing" on TONIGHT's show. LIVE.

Again, consider yourselves warned.

And finally, if you dare, HOFF BLOG!!!
Click here.

God help you.

Reality Show Dish & some other stuff, maybe

Monday nights I watch Hell's Kitchen with Beeb and we tape Treasure Hunters to watch with R when he gets home from his class. Beeb does a genius impression of Chef Ramsay saying "WHERE'S THE LAMB SAUCE????" I'm so proud. She loves it when I call her a donkey in the Chef voice. Yeah, we're not like other families.

So this week that "stupid cow" Sarah was FINALLY kicked off of the show. How hilarious was it when Virginia went shopping and brought Sarah back a cow-shaped creamer? HIGH-larious. But Virginia lost points with me when she burned the peas and Chef rescinded her free ride into the final three. I'd love to see Heather win the whole thing, I think she's the one who fights the hardest for it.

Treasure Hunters is such a great show. This week the team of three Former Miss USA's were eliminated. I'd be happy to see any of the remaining teams win. They've all been good competitors.

Ok, so on to Big Brother. What the hell is wrong with Janelle? Why target Diane? And why ya gotta lie to Howie like dat? Not cool. That alliance is gone. James is clearly removing himself from it, and I wonder what Hot Kaysar will do. I think Howie will stick with Janelle, I don't really think he's smart enough without her, although him calling her on her lie in front of James and Kaysar impressed me.

I'll be so pissed if Erika goes home. I haven't been able to figure out the basis of Diane's infatuation with herself. She thinks she's clever, she thinks she's funny, she thinks she's masterminding everything, well, no, you're a dingbat with the most annoying voice since Holly (remember her??). And ooooooooooh, do I loathe Mike Boogie. Will's entertaining, Mike's along for the ride. I love Marcellas. Love him love him love him. Might even consider having a sex change so that he might love me back. Ok, not really.

If one of the evicted houseguests comes back, who would you most like to see? I'm gonna say Jase.

Tonight, America's Got Freaks. Hasselhoff's supposed to sing on the show tonight. I haven't decided whether or not I'll be tuning in.

*** end of reality show talk, on to random stuff ***

My local grocery store, in addition to the special on Fruit Bowels, was selling 10 pounds of ground turkey for $10. Guess what's in my freezer? We're going to be eating ground turkey for the next month, so if anybody has some good ground turkey recipes, I'd love to see them.

The bike we got from Freecycle is AWESOME. Almost new condition. Not a scratch. I'll have to take a picture of it. R says it would have cost us $40-$50 easily, and all it cost us was a trip to a part of town I've never been to. Mississippi River in the front yard, literally. Oh, and a school bus with curtains on the windows parked in the driveway. Interesting.

I'm so sick of the movie (and soundtrack) High School Musical I'm about ready to snap both the DVD and the CD in half. But then it'll be the Start Of Something New.

School starts on the 16th. Beeb found out who her teacher is, and Beeb was also chosen for a group at her school called The Ambassadors, who give tours of the school to parents and kids, primarily the Kindergarteners. It's an honor, and she is really excited.

The boys' Mom's Day Out doesn't start until September. I will then have three mornings to myself every week. What to do, what to do?

A family reunion (my side of the Karma family tree) is in the works for this Thanksgiving. It will involve me flying to Texas with the kids, without R. I'll miss him, sure, but on the plus side, he won't be there to talk me out of buying yarn, which I certainly plan to do.

Here's why I don't drive an SUV.

Somedays I'm just so glad I have a camera with me.


The gas pump when I got to it.




The gas pump when I was done with it. I just saved $50.








And I found THIS at my local grocery store.








IRV! SPELLCHECK ON AISLE FOUR!!!


Evan the Stock Boy busted me taking the pic. I figured if they tried to escort me out, I'd just show them the sign and then they'd feel really stupid.


While at the grocery store, I had a great idea for a prank. Ask the bagger if they'll walk out to the car with you, and when you open your trunk, have a fake dead body in there, maybe wrapped in a sheet with a hand or a foot sticking out. It'd be like Goodfellas.

Today is day two of VBS and Chess Camp. Beeb's chess camp teacher looks exactly like what you would expect a chess camp teacher would look like. Seriously, close your eyes and envision a Chess Teacher. Did you think of some slight mutation of the Comic Book Guy from the Simpsons? Yeah, that's him. I walked in with her to check her in, he found her name on the class list, I asked if there if I needed to do anything else, and he said,

"You do not."

Totally in the Comic Book Guy's voice. I about pissed myself.

Yarn news: I won some beeyooteeful Tiny Toes yarn from the Sock Pr0n blog! God, do I need a swift and ball winder. It took me about 4 hours to wind both hanks up by hand. I'm hoping that the Unclaimed Property amount I get is enough to get myself one.

Oh wait, I didn't tell you guys about that! A few weeks ago, Mrs. Aldi, in doing a search for herself on the state's Unclaimed Property website, found that I had money comin' to ME, my only clue to the amount was "over $50" (incidentally, they didn't have anything comin' to THEM). So she called to let me know, and I sent my info to the State Capitol and I'm waiting to hear back. Can ya believe? I'm tingling with antici - say it... say it... PATION. I'll let ya know.

AND, as if my cousin Amy wasn't cool enough already (seriously, she's one of the coolest people you'll ever meet, and the fact that she has her own yarn store is just a bonus), she sent me an awesome yarn treat! I'm keeping it under wraps until I use it (i.e. get off my ass and crank out some socks). Recently everything that has touched my needles has sucked most profoundly. I don't even wanna talk about it. Oh wait, I did whip out a garter stitch scarf on size 19 needles in that rainbow-colored Lion Brand Jiffy Thick and Quick for my sister, and she dug it. I've found that my work is best appreciated by people who are amazed at my garter stitch scarf-making skillz.

Oh, and I'm making Pie the Crown from the New Knits on the Block book by the Knitty Gritty chick whose name eludes me at the moment. That's a fun pattern, I'm enjoying it, but I'm probably doing it wrong.

I'm doing awesome with the no soda thing. I'm so proud of myself. I'm not ready to step on the scale yet, though.

I'm getting Pie a bike from a Freecycler tonight. A Schwinn!

In the immortal words of Paris Hilton, It's hot. Outside, I mean.

The Inlaws are coming by on Saturday to take Beeb shopping for her birthday. This has been a tradition for the last couple of years. Beeb loves it. They take her shopping for school clothes and out to lunch. Tomorrow is Massive Cleaning Day.

Celebrate accordingly.