Reason #1: I have convinced them that Santa IS watching them. All the time.
Reason #2: I have convinced them that Santa has a cell phone and uses it to text me when they are naughty.
Reason #3: I have convinced them that the website that tells them automatically that they are on Santa's nice list is run by Gremlins.
Reason #4: They KNOW what a gremlin is.
Reason #5: They have been completely convinced that they have a 50/50 shot at getting coal in their stockings.
God, I love Christmas. It is the one month of the year I have something to hold over them to keep them in line. Yes, I know, I am mother of the year.
Monday, December 20, 2010
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Everyone's a Critic
I am really not sure what wild hair/hare has gotten into me lately, but whatever it is I've gone insane. I have never been sure if the expression is "homeless crazed bunny caged for the first time" wild or "weird gray hair sticking out of the top of my head and cannot be curled or sprayed down" wild, but either way I think I'm safe.
But I digress, what I really want to talk about is what happened this morning at 6am. I have been getting up prior to the ass-crack of dawn to work out. So this morning I wandered (OK stumbled half asleep) downstairs and started the coffee pot. I got one of those newfangled contraptions that grinds & brews your coffee all at once, and needless to say it can be a bit loud.
Under normal circumstances no one wakes up when I push the button, but today as it so happens, both children were awakened, rudely I surmise, and came hopping down the stairs shortly after I began huffing and puffing on the elliptical. I always close the door so that my gasping for air and crying for mercy cannot be heard by the rest of the house so imagine my surprise when I saw the door nearly fly off its hinges to see two sweet smiling faces still in their PJs with VERY messy bed head.
"Whatcha doin'?" They asked me. I kind of wanted to say "climbing mount everest" or "gutting a pig" to see what they would say, but as I mentioned it was early and none of us were awake enough to think.
I explained that I was working out and Brady, bless his sweet little heart, said "good job mom, you're not getting as fat as you were!" Oh, now, isn't that sweet? If he were not made of 50% of my genetic material I might have done something I'd regret later. Instead I just ignored it and tried to go about my business.
I noticed that the kids had given up and left, which made me thankful that I would continue my workout undisturbed, and ALONE, which is how I like it. Sadly though, they both returned shortly thereafter with their pillows and blankets and basically had a picnic in the room. They wanted to know if they could watch me.
What do you say at 6 am to your adorable, although frighteningly honest, little children? As I mentioned I just started the coffee pot so my mind was not functioning at all so I said yes.
For the next 10 minutes I heard the following: Mom, go faster! Mom, you aren't doing push ups right. Mom, what is THAT exercise you are doing?
You know, if I wanted a personal trainer, I would have gotten one. But I didn't because the last thing I need is someone I know watching me sweat like cold beer in the hot sun. Oh, a beer sounds might nice......Sorry, I got distracted for a second there. What I mean is that I like to work out ALONE, the way God intended, so that no one that you love can ever see you THAT horrifically out of shape and THAT close to passing out (unless there's that beer involved I mentioned earlier and then you're OK on the passing out thing).
One nice thing they did was count for me while I did some planks (the worst exercise ever invented to torture someones out of shape abdominal muscles) and were absolutely amazed when they got to the number 50. Granted they counted so fast it was probably all of 20 seconds, but still they were impressed.
My next workout? Find the tools and put a lock on the door.
But I digress, what I really want to talk about is what happened this morning at 6am. I have been getting up prior to the ass-crack of dawn to work out. So this morning I wandered (OK stumbled half asleep) downstairs and started the coffee pot. I got one of those newfangled contraptions that grinds & brews your coffee all at once, and needless to say it can be a bit loud.
Under normal circumstances no one wakes up when I push the button, but today as it so happens, both children were awakened, rudely I surmise, and came hopping down the stairs shortly after I began huffing and puffing on the elliptical. I always close the door so that my gasping for air and crying for mercy cannot be heard by the rest of the house so imagine my surprise when I saw the door nearly fly off its hinges to see two sweet smiling faces still in their PJs with VERY messy bed head.
"Whatcha doin'?" They asked me. I kind of wanted to say "climbing mount everest" or "gutting a pig" to see what they would say, but as I mentioned it was early and none of us were awake enough to think.
I explained that I was working out and Brady, bless his sweet little heart, said "good job mom, you're not getting as fat as you were!" Oh, now, isn't that sweet? If he were not made of 50% of my genetic material I might have done something I'd regret later. Instead I just ignored it and tried to go about my business.
I noticed that the kids had given up and left, which made me thankful that I would continue my workout undisturbed, and ALONE, which is how I like it. Sadly though, they both returned shortly thereafter with their pillows and blankets and basically had a picnic in the room. They wanted to know if they could watch me.
What do you say at 6 am to your adorable, although frighteningly honest, little children? As I mentioned I just started the coffee pot so my mind was not functioning at all so I said yes.
For the next 10 minutes I heard the following: Mom, go faster! Mom, you aren't doing push ups right. Mom, what is THAT exercise you are doing?
You know, if I wanted a personal trainer, I would have gotten one. But I didn't because the last thing I need is someone I know watching me sweat like cold beer in the hot sun. Oh, a beer sounds might nice......Sorry, I got distracted for a second there. What I mean is that I like to work out ALONE, the way God intended, so that no one that you love can ever see you THAT horrifically out of shape and THAT close to passing out (unless there's that beer involved I mentioned earlier and then you're OK on the passing out thing).
One nice thing they did was count for me while I did some planks (the worst exercise ever invented to torture someones out of shape abdominal muscles) and were absolutely amazed when they got to the number 50. Granted they counted so fast it was probably all of 20 seconds, but still they were impressed.
My next workout? Find the tools and put a lock on the door.
Monday, November 1, 2010
Workplace Restroom Etiquette
Now that I am back among the employed in a building with a couple hundred people (instead of just a couple) I am remembering what it's like to share a bathroom space with people you have never met.
As such I have developed a short list of "tips" for people who are in a similar situation. You know, I always try to be helpful.
Without further delay, here are my top tips for people in the workplace to remember about the employee restroom:
1. If you poop, PLEASE oh PLEASE remember to spray something in the stall for God’s sake. We all drop the deuce now and then (coffee and fiber are a deadly combo) but if you do happen to soil the bowl please do us all a favor and use room deodorizer, I hate to tell you but your shit does, in fact, stink.
2. Don’t leave the radio running in the restroom with a public radio station on. There’s nothing more frightening in the early morning before the IV dose of caffeine kicks in and you hear a male voice speaking in hushed tones on the other side of the stall door. I will always think I made a wrong turn and ended up in the men’s room.
3. FYI the bathroom is not your personal office. Do not answer your cell phone on the shitter. Do not go in there to make a personal call. Do it at your desk like everyone else. Sheesh.
4. In reference to item #3 if the person on the other side of the cell phone knew you were going “tinkle tinkle” while talking to them, they would probably throw up a little. Don’t do it.
5. And if you break rule #3, make sure you have the decency to speak in English so we can eavesdrop as is our right, and so we also know you aren’t talking about that really tall lady that was crop dusting you on the stairs earlier.
I am SURE I missed something, so please, comment at will.
As such I have developed a short list of "tips" for people who are in a similar situation. You know, I always try to be helpful.
Without further delay, here are my top tips for people in the workplace to remember about the employee restroom:
1. If you poop, PLEASE oh PLEASE remember to spray something in the stall for God’s sake. We all drop the deuce now and then (coffee and fiber are a deadly combo) but if you do happen to soil the bowl please do us all a favor and use room deodorizer, I hate to tell you but your shit does, in fact, stink.
2. Don’t leave the radio running in the restroom with a public radio station on. There’s nothing more frightening in the early morning before the IV dose of caffeine kicks in and you hear a male voice speaking in hushed tones on the other side of the stall door. I will always think I made a wrong turn and ended up in the men’s room.
3. FYI the bathroom is not your personal office. Do not answer your cell phone on the shitter. Do not go in there to make a personal call. Do it at your desk like everyone else. Sheesh.
4. In reference to item #3 if the person on the other side of the cell phone knew you were going “tinkle tinkle” while talking to them, they would probably throw up a little. Don’t do it.
5. And if you break rule #3, make sure you have the decency to speak in English so we can eavesdrop as is our right, and so we also know you aren’t talking about that really tall lady that was crop dusting you on the stairs earlier.
I am SURE I missed something, so please, comment at will.
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Multitasking-in-training
We all know that women are the ultimate multi-taskers. We can talk on a cell phone, hold a screaming toddler on our hip, answer the door and stir a pot of stew all at once. It is just in our nature, as result of years of subconscious training and practice.
Now, I don't want to offend any dudes out there, many of whom are also very capable of multi-tasking as well. For example, Mark can watch football and eat potato chips at the same time, and even open his own beer bottle from time to time. Yes, I know, I'm a lucky woman.
And almost all men multi-task during "sexy-time". You cannot deny that sometimes you think about "other things" to "prolong" your, ahem, experience. That my friends is ALSO multi-tasking. Burping & farting at the same time, not so much. That's more of just a beautiful gift from God, if you ask me.
The kind of multi-tasking I am really talking about is truly the ability to do three or more things simultaneously, without effort and without consciously doing so. In observing both of my children this past summer I have been able to tell that Brady, God bless his sweet little boy heart, has a one-track mind.
For now, his fixation is on all things to do with cars. I do not look forward to when the pendulum swings over to girls, especially since his interest in his penis is starting to wan, and that thing has really been stretched to the limit, if you know what I mean. Boys just don't seem to think about more than one thing at a time. When there's food, they eat or practice distracting the nearest sibling, depending on how much they like the food you've prepared.
Girls, on the other hand, seem to be able to do at least two things at a time, unless there's a mirror nearby in which case they are rendered completely useless for doing anything but making faces at themselves. Kaylee, for example, can play barbies and totally irritate the shit out of her brother all at once. It's a gift, really. She can also poop and read a book. She can also twirl her hair and speak in coherent sentences.
But today I was the most proud of her I have ever been. While at the lunch table, Kaylee performed a trifecta of multitasking. While reading a recipe out loud and chewing her lunch, she managed to rattle off the most amazingly disgusting fart I have ever heard from her.
As they say, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.....
Now, I don't want to offend any dudes out there, many of whom are also very capable of multi-tasking as well. For example, Mark can watch football and eat potato chips at the same time, and even open his own beer bottle from time to time. Yes, I know, I'm a lucky woman.
And almost all men multi-task during "sexy-time". You cannot deny that sometimes you think about "other things" to "prolong" your, ahem, experience. That my friends is ALSO multi-tasking. Burping & farting at the same time, not so much. That's more of just a beautiful gift from God, if you ask me.
The kind of multi-tasking I am really talking about is truly the ability to do three or more things simultaneously, without effort and without consciously doing so. In observing both of my children this past summer I have been able to tell that Brady, God bless his sweet little boy heart, has a one-track mind.
For now, his fixation is on all things to do with cars. I do not look forward to when the pendulum swings over to girls, especially since his interest in his penis is starting to wan, and that thing has really been stretched to the limit, if you know what I mean. Boys just don't seem to think about more than one thing at a time. When there's food, they eat or practice distracting the nearest sibling, depending on how much they like the food you've prepared.
Girls, on the other hand, seem to be able to do at least two things at a time, unless there's a mirror nearby in which case they are rendered completely useless for doing anything but making faces at themselves. Kaylee, for example, can play barbies and totally irritate the shit out of her brother all at once. It's a gift, really. She can also poop and read a book. She can also twirl her hair and speak in coherent sentences.
But today I was the most proud of her I have ever been. While at the lunch table, Kaylee performed a trifecta of multitasking. While reading a recipe out loud and chewing her lunch, she managed to rattle off the most amazingly disgusting fart I have ever heard from her.
As they say, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.....
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Sometimes posts find you....
Guest post for today, and I need to meet this person. Who knew you could post anonymous rantings on Craigslist? I had NO idea. I used my blog for un-anonymous postings about my job which got me into trouble from time to time. This, my friends, is genius.
(warning, if you are offended by swear words, you shouldn't read my blog, let alone this post)
---------------------------------------------
To my coworkers. (you know who you are.)
Date: 2010-08-31, 6:22PM PDT
To my beloved and not so beloved coworkers, I have little ranting I need to get out. Since its a break of office manners to bring it up there, I am forced to resort to here of all places. First of all to the hipster down the hall, fucking shower and shave, we are in an office not camping, shed the scruff and stink. To Ms. High and Mighty, get over yourself, you are not the Queen of the world, you are not some beauty queen that we all bow down to, you work with the rest of us mere mortals so please act one. To the redneck bigot... wtf man? You had to go to college to work here, so why in the hell do act like an inbreed retard? I mean come on all that America is number one shit gets a little old when you lump in with anti Obama and anti Muslim shit. Makes you look like a tool of the right. To the hippy burn out, you as bad as the redneck, only from the other end of the political scale. To the Boss man, yelling at people, and bitching about things doesn't make people work any harder for you, it makes us look for a new job. Besides if you want something done, you should really try giving advance notice about it, after all if takes an hour to do it, you need to give people that hour, plus a little so they can wrap up what your asking them to set aside.
And to the whole lot of you, why is the break room always fucking pig pen? I know the cleaning crew comes twice a week, so why it ever damn day there is a coffee ring on the counter? Pizza and hot pocket blow out in the microwave, plus the nasty drips stuck all over the inside of it? not to mention the fact that at least one of you doesn't know what the trash can is for, I'll give you a hint, apple core, used napkins and food scrapes go in it, not left on the table. Dare I ask why my bagel came out of the toaster tasting like greasy maple syrup the other day? Did on of you sick fucks put sausage in there or what?
Thanks for you time and please, please clean up after yourselfs, I feel like I am working with a bunch of kids.
http://portland.craigslist.org/mlt/rnr/1930205915.html
PostingID: 1930205915
(warning, if you are offended by swear words, you shouldn't read my blog, let alone this post)
---------------------------------------------
To my coworkers. (you know who you are.)
Date: 2010-08-31, 6:22PM PDT
To my beloved and not so beloved coworkers, I have little ranting I need to get out. Since its a break of office manners to bring it up there, I am forced to resort to here of all places. First of all to the hipster down the hall, fucking shower and shave, we are in an office not camping, shed the scruff and stink. To Ms. High and Mighty, get over yourself, you are not the Queen of the world, you are not some beauty queen that we all bow down to, you work with the rest of us mere mortals so please act one. To the redneck bigot... wtf man? You had to go to college to work here, so why in the hell do act like an inbreed retard? I mean come on all that America is number one shit gets a little old when you lump in with anti Obama and anti Muslim shit. Makes you look like a tool of the right. To the hippy burn out, you as bad as the redneck, only from the other end of the political scale. To the Boss man, yelling at people, and bitching about things doesn't make people work any harder for you, it makes us look for a new job. Besides if you want something done, you should really try giving advance notice about it, after all if takes an hour to do it, you need to give people that hour, plus a little so they can wrap up what your asking them to set aside.
And to the whole lot of you, why is the break room always fucking pig pen? I know the cleaning crew comes twice a week, so why it ever damn day there is a coffee ring on the counter? Pizza and hot pocket blow out in the microwave, plus the nasty drips stuck all over the inside of it? not to mention the fact that at least one of you doesn't know what the trash can is for, I'll give you a hint, apple core, used napkins and food scrapes go in it, not left on the table. Dare I ask why my bagel came out of the toaster tasting like greasy maple syrup the other day? Did on of you sick fucks put sausage in there or what?
Thanks for you time and please, please clean up after yourselfs, I feel like I am working with a bunch of kids.
http://portland.craigslist.org/mlt/rnr/1930205915.html
PostingID: 1930205915
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