Our puppy, Flash had an appointment at the vet's office today for his second of three round of vaccines, so we were forced to go into town on this cold and windy day after Thanksgiving. While we were in town, we decided to return some leftover duct work from a recent heating project the Gardener is working on. Basically, he's adding heat to the upstairs of our 100 year old farmhouse. We installed some electric baseboard heat in the girls' rooms when we moved in 4 years ago, but the intention was to always add duct work to tie in to our furnace that currently heats the first floor. Long story short, after a week of cutting holes in the plaster ceilings and banging on metal tubes and lots and lots of mess, we now have some heat upstairs. Hooray! Anyhow, we had stuff to return to Menards. Since we were in town anyway, we thought we would quick take care of our non black Friday shopping on the biggest retail day of the year. Not smart.
First of all, the driving was madness. Why must these self described bargain hunters all park their huge SUVs at the entrance of the store or in the middle of the aisle of the parking lot and just assume that the other drivers (all about as brilliant) will drive their equally ridiculous vehicles* around them? JUST TO GET A BRITA WATER PITCHER AT HALF PRICE. Insanity, I tell you! I can only assume that was the big sale item because after driving around the parking lot looking for a parking space and failing to find one, I dropped off the Gardener at the main entrance with his returns and headed over to the loading area to wait for him and noticed that almost every person leaving the store had a Brita box in their carts. Everyone but my husband, who went to the HOME IMPROVEMENT STORE with the sole intention of buying items to IMPROVE OUR HOME. What fools are we?
It's going to be a long holiday season.
*I apologize to drivers of SUVs for my wild outburst, but honestly, your cars are DAMN big and a little obnoxious, especially when occupied by only one person.
Showing posts with label rants. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rants. Show all posts
Friday, November 26, 2010
Friday, May 28, 2010
7 Things That Make Me Grumpy
I was tagged by Jean from Raising 2 Boys 1 Day At A Time in a fun meme called 7 Things That Make Me Grumpy. I always have good intentions to play along after being tagged, but lets face it, it doesn't always happen. Today was just one of those days filled with grumpy moments (but not all, it ended up being a full but not so terrible day after all) and me muttering foul words under my breath. A perfect day to let out the grump I've been holding in... Thanks Jean for the opportunity to let it all out!
So here goes. 7 things that make me grumpy:
1. Getting up early on a morning that I need to be somewhere at a certain time and finding out that my car is suddenly spewing antifreeze all over the place.
2. Needing to drive my husband's work van instead of my car and remember that the thing is HUGE, has no rear view mirror (wouldn't do any good with a big wall divider and no back window to look out of.) and is more or less a rolling billboard. The look from the guy mowing his lawn near the 4 way stop sign in town was a little weird. Apparently I can't pass for an electrician.
3. Low fat cottage cheese. Seriously, that shit is terrible!
4. When the Internet is slow. We had a storm the other night that knocked out our Internet and now two days later, it's back on but still running slow and cutting out occasionally.
5. When my husband forgot to take my rubber shoe covers that I wear at the farm out of the truck during this morning's holy shit the car isn't working shuffle.
6. Know-it-all moms from my kids class. Today the one mom (with perfect Farrah Faucet hair) was an expert on everything bowling during the class field trip to the bowling alley. First she tried to tell me that I had given out the wrong shoes to the kids in my group. The shoes were right just that the bowling alley guy (someone who takes his job as bowling alley attendant way too seriously) shorted us a pair. After that she was all "you know I used to score bowling tournaments for cash in high school." Thank goodness for modern technology and computers that do all of that nowadays without a smart mouth to boot.
7. And the last thing that makes me grumpy is coming home to a messy house or a sinkfull of dirty dishes. The Gardener tries his best, but once in a while...
I'm exhausted and it's officially the start of the holiday weekend (meaning I'm sipping an ice cold beer) so I'm not tagging anyone else today but if anyone else would like to share what makes them grumpy, I'd love to hear about it.
Have a great weekend all!
So here goes. 7 things that make me grumpy:
1. Getting up early on a morning that I need to be somewhere at a certain time and finding out that my car is suddenly spewing antifreeze all over the place.
2. Needing to drive my husband's work van instead of my car and remember that the thing is HUGE, has no rear view mirror (wouldn't do any good with a big wall divider and no back window to look out of.) and is more or less a rolling billboard. The look from the guy mowing his lawn near the 4 way stop sign in town was a little weird. Apparently I can't pass for an electrician.
3. Low fat cottage cheese. Seriously, that shit is terrible!
4. When the Internet is slow. We had a storm the other night that knocked out our Internet and now two days later, it's back on but still running slow and cutting out occasionally.
5. When my husband forgot to take my rubber shoe covers that I wear at the farm out of the truck during this morning's holy shit the car isn't working shuffle.
6. Know-it-all moms from my kids class. Today the one mom (with perfect Farrah Faucet hair) was an expert on everything bowling during the class field trip to the bowling alley. First she tried to tell me that I had given out the wrong shoes to the kids in my group. The shoes were right just that the bowling alley guy (someone who takes his job as bowling alley attendant way too seriously) shorted us a pair. After that she was all "you know I used to score bowling tournaments for cash in high school." Thank goodness for modern technology and computers that do all of that nowadays without a smart mouth to boot.
7. And the last thing that makes me grumpy is coming home to a messy house or a sinkfull of dirty dishes. The Gardener tries his best, but once in a while...
I'm exhausted and it's officially the start of the holiday weekend (meaning I'm sipping an ice cold beer) so I'm not tagging anyone else today but if anyone else would like to share what makes them grumpy, I'd love to hear about it.
Have a great weekend all!
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Sexism- Country Style
I know I've written about my husband's version of craigslist before, you know the park your junk on the lawn with a spray painted sign next to it kind of advertising. And without surprise we are once again hawking some rusty metal in our front yard. This time it's a skid steer, which is one of those little caged machines on wheels with a bucket in front (description for my less farm-y readers).
Last Saturday the Gardener was playing around on Google maps and realized that street view had come to our country road. As we waited for the photo to load we were both wondering what the photo would look like. Was it summer; can you see the garden? Before or after we painted? Dogs barking at the Google guy??? As the photo came in to focus I was torn between laughing and throwing something at my husband. On the lawn in front of our house (for all of the Internet to see) was a crappy old minivan. Seriously, we have turned into those people. Really though I shouldn't be surprised. I will say though that the Gardener is quite orderly otherwise. He doesn't keep any junk outside and always put away his toys, so there's that.
Anyhow I'm getting off topic here and the kids (half day of school) are hounding me to start a craft. Flash forward to today. A car pulls into our driveway and a man steps out with a big framed photo in his hand. I quickly run out the back door to catch him before he rings the doorbell and alerts my dogs that holy shit there's a stranger here, we must bark as loudly as possible and freak the hell out.! Nevermind that Oliver was laying outside and never heard the guy pull in the driveway or close the car door, only started making a scene once I was already talking to the guy. The man is an aerial photographer (basically he has one of the parachute fan planes and a camera) who takes photos of farms and then tries to sell them door to door. An older guy, white beard, didn't set off any creepy alarms in me, plus when I'm standing next to a 140 pound St. Bernard I feel quite safe. He shows me the photo and I say "Oh, that's nice." He just looks at me. I say "Very nice." He looks at me and says "I can come back when your husband is home." Sort of annoyed because he won't talk to me, I say "So what's the deal?" as I point to the the big framed photo of our house, barns and outbuildings taking note of the lack of any crap cars or tractors out for sale. He replies, "59 with the oak frame." And just the print? "39" Before I can even say anything he says, "Well I'll come back another time when your husband is around." Thanks a lot A-hole, you just blew a sale. It wasn't even his intentional (or unintentional, I don't know) sexist remarks... at first, but his idea that my husband would be the better person to talk to about buying his art. My husband has an appreciation (although limited) for art but only if it doesn't cost him anything. He has even less patience for people coming to the house trying to get some of his hard earned money. While this falls into a different category than the religious types that come around spreading the word and the fidgety woman trying to sell homeschooling materials to us over the summer, but still he wouldn't be interested.
In a world where women are now as powerful and influential as men, why do some people still think that a man should be the one calling the shots especially when it comes to money? My husband doesn't manage our finances. He doesn't even have a debit card linked to our bank account. If he needs money, he asks me. We both prefer it this way. I have the time to manage the checking account (Remember I'm just a house wife and don't work. What the 2 nights a week milking cows count as a job? Huh.) and more so the patience to deal with sorting through bills and sitting on hold when I realize that our health care provider screwed up yet another bill. But the authority to buy a photo? Absolutely not.
Last Saturday the Gardener was playing around on Google maps and realized that street view had come to our country road. As we waited for the photo to load we were both wondering what the photo would look like. Was it summer; can you see the garden? Before or after we painted? Dogs barking at the Google guy??? As the photo came in to focus I was torn between laughing and throwing something at my husband. On the lawn in front of our house (for all of the Internet to see) was a crappy old minivan. Seriously, we have turned into those people. Really though I shouldn't be surprised. I will say though that the Gardener is quite orderly otherwise. He doesn't keep any junk outside and always put away his toys, so there's that.
Anyhow I'm getting off topic here and the kids (half day of school) are hounding me to start a craft. Flash forward to today. A car pulls into our driveway and a man steps out with a big framed photo in his hand. I quickly run out the back door to catch him before he rings the doorbell and alerts my dogs that holy shit there's a stranger here, we must bark as loudly as possible and freak the hell out.! Nevermind that Oliver was laying outside and never heard the guy pull in the driveway or close the car door, only started making a scene once I was already talking to the guy. The man is an aerial photographer (basically he has one of the parachute fan planes and a camera) who takes photos of farms and then tries to sell them door to door. An older guy, white beard, didn't set off any creepy alarms in me, plus when I'm standing next to a 140 pound St. Bernard I feel quite safe. He shows me the photo and I say "Oh, that's nice." He just looks at me. I say "Very nice." He looks at me and says "I can come back when your husband is home." Sort of annoyed because he won't talk to me, I say "So what's the deal?" as I point to the the big framed photo of our house, barns and outbuildings taking note of the lack of any crap cars or tractors out for sale. He replies, "59 with the oak frame." And just the print? "39" Before I can even say anything he says, "Well I'll come back another time when your husband is around." Thanks a lot A-hole, you just blew a sale. It wasn't even his intentional (or unintentional, I don't know) sexist remarks... at first, but his idea that my husband would be the better person to talk to about buying his art. My husband has an appreciation (although limited) for art but only if it doesn't cost him anything. He has even less patience for people coming to the house trying to get some of his hard earned money. While this falls into a different category than the religious types that come around spreading the word and the fidgety woman trying to sell homeschooling materials to us over the summer, but still he wouldn't be interested.
In a world where women are now as powerful and influential as men, why do some people still think that a man should be the one calling the shots especially when it comes to money? My husband doesn't manage our finances. He doesn't even have a debit card linked to our bank account. If he needs money, he asks me. We both prefer it this way. I have the time to manage the checking account (Remember I'm just a house wife and don't work. What the 2 nights a week milking cows count as a job? Huh.) and more so the patience to deal with sorting through bills and sitting on hold when I realize that our health care provider screwed up yet another bill. But the authority to buy a photo? Absolutely not.
Monday, October 19, 2009
Balloon Boy Rant
I feel like I shouldn't even be bringing this up because it is complete nonsense, but I'm going to anyway. Ever since the news broke last week about a boy floating around Colorado in a helium party balloon I had doubts about the authenticity of the story but the news media didn't. All of the networks decided to drop REAL important stories like the war in Afghanistan and National health care reform to chase around a bright shiny object. Cable news loves a good distraction don't they?
Now lets break this all down using common (or not so common as it turns out) sense.
I think the parents should be punished for this ridiculous stunt but not at the expense of their children. I have no idea if these people are unfit to be caring for 3 young boys but I'd like to give them the benefit of the doubt. I just hope that if in fact they are charged and convicted that the judge would order them to never be on television ever again or make money in any way off of this child exploiting experience.
*End rant*
Now lets break this all down using common (or not so common as it turns out) sense.
- Richard and Mayumi Heene blow up and release a helium filled balloon in their backyard and have no idea where their three children are. Hmm? *scratches head*
- A six year old boy is reported to be inside the overgrown mylar birthday balloon. I have not personally weighed young Falcon myself but I do have 2 children ages 5 and 7 and can guess that a 6 year old would weigh roughly 40-60 pounds. Of course helium is lighter than air, but we've all seen the video of the balloon floating around and from my untrained eye (I am no scientist, but neither is Richard Heene) I am almost certain that there is no way in hell that balloon could carry away a 6 year old. NO WAY!
- The balloon lands and surprise surprise no Falcon.
- Dad saves the day when he shows up in front of television cameras holding the boy with an explanation that the boy was hiding in the garage attic. The family then goes on to be interviewed by every news organization and tabloid TV show complete with young Falcon throwing up twice Friday morning on national TV while he should have been at home or better yet in SCHOOL.
I think the parents should be punished for this ridiculous stunt but not at the expense of their children. I have no idea if these people are unfit to be caring for 3 young boys but I'd like to give them the benefit of the doubt. I just hope that if in fact they are charged and convicted that the judge would order them to never be on television ever again or make money in any way off of this child exploiting experience.
*End rant*
Thursday, September 17, 2009
All The Other Kids Have One
The mom of one of Mae's friend's just called to say that her daughter will be coming to Mae's Birthday party next week. (Our first RSVP, very exciting!) She then asked me what kind of gift her daughter should get for Mae.
"What is she into?"
I start to panic and the only two words that enter my brain are HANNAH and MONTANA. Thinking of ways to gently saykeep that shit out of my house no, we don't really do any of that character stuff. But I didn't, I just said that Mae doesn't have a list and whatever her daughter picks out will be just fine. "Well... does she like Polly Pocket? Barbies? Computer game credits? Does she have a Webkins?" No, no, no and nope. She finally said that her daughter received a jewelry making kit for her birthday and that she really likes it. "Sure, that'll be fine. I'm sure she'll love whatever your daughter picks out." And she will.
It would not be the end of the world if Mae was given a Barbie or a Hannah Montana doll or whatever else is adorned with the pop star's face, but I think she would grow tired of it all very quickly and still not get the hype. Mae likes to color, and draw, and write, and play Checkers, and watch PBS kids shows. She likes to climb hunting stands,
and go bear baiting, and race remote control cars, and jump in the straw mow. She likes to wear dresses and ride her bicycle, but she hasn't got a clue who the Jonas brothers are and why all the other girls call them "hot." Over the summer Mae has become a very open-minded, independent, fearless 7 year old. I know peer pressure is out there alive and well (Thank you, Dr. Phil) but damn it all, why do toys imported from China need need to be part of it? Besides growing our hair long and moving to one of those FLDS compounds, how do we get away from it?
Whoa, overreact much?
I guess this sort of thing happens at the beginning of the school year. Mae has mentioned a time or two that "the other kids can have cookies for snack, and all I get is 2 plums." She loves plums but the fact that the other kids have something different perhaps even sprinkle covered is intriguing.
"What is she into?"
I start to panic and the only two words that enter my brain are HANNAH and MONTANA. Thinking of ways to gently say
It would not be the end of the world if Mae was given a Barbie or a Hannah Montana doll or whatever else is adorned with the pop star's face, but I think she would grow tired of it all very quickly and still not get the hype. Mae likes to color, and draw, and write, and play Checkers, and watch PBS kids shows. She likes to climb hunting stands,
and go bear baiting, and race remote control cars, and jump in the straw mow. She likes to wear dresses and ride her bicycle, but she hasn't got a clue who the Jonas brothers are and why all the other girls call them "hot." Over the summer Mae has become a very open-minded, independent, fearless 7 year old. I know peer pressure is out there alive and well (Thank you, Dr. Phil) but damn it all, why do toys imported from China need need to be part of it? Besides growing our hair long and moving to one of those FLDS compounds, how do we get away from it?Whoa, overreact much?
I guess this sort of thing happens at the beginning of the school year. Mae has mentioned a time or two that "the other kids can have cookies for snack, and all I get is 2 plums." She loves plums but the fact that the other kids have something different perhaps even sprinkle covered is intriguing.
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Drama, Drama and Foot Trauma
Another TMI post, you've been warned!
The Honeymoon is officially over! Remember a few months back when my farmer boss had a huge temper tantrum over sweeping? Well she was on good behavior for a few weeks, trying not to be so nit-picky but slowly she has worked her way back to her annoying OCD self. Last night when I pulled into her driveway, there was a truck blocking where I normally would park, so I start aiming for the pre-approved alternate spot when she waves me off (arms flailing and shouting) and makes me park clear across the yard. She walks over and before I even get out of the car she's waving her arms and carrying on and on about how I shouldn't park in the alternate spot anymore and I should justwedge my boat of a car in next to the silo "park over there" as she stretches out her arm to point with her curled up old lady fingers. Then as I'm putting on my rubber shoe covers (a farm must have) she notices the bags of peat moss and composted manure that are sitting in the trunk of my car. "Whaddya want that for? You know you could come and get a bushel basket of the shit scrapins from the yard? That's just as good as what you have there?" The idea is to cut the crap, not put it in my garden. I know I know, people have been using manure for gardening for years, but seriously I take enough shit from her already, I don't want her fresh poo. I'll take the actually composted (sitting on a pile in the cow yard for a week does not equal composted) stuff for $1 a bag over her stuff that I can still see bits of corn in. Although my dogs would love it, I don't want it!
Then while we were milking the cows, the sports guy was on the radio talking about Brett Favre (former Quarterback for the Green Bay Packers) and his possible move to Minnesota to play for the Vikings. Now normally I don't care about (American) football, it does not interest me in the least and I was actually lucky enough to find a man who also doesn't care about the sport. I know, I lucked out with the Gardener. So anyhow, people are calling in to this sports show and complaining about Brett Favre and how he's just doing this to get back at the Packers management and more than a few callers (during the day this station runs conservative talk shows mind you) were saying that they hope Brett Favre would be hurt (Really Christian Conservatives? You wish harm upon another human being just because he's going to play for a rival team?) in the first game and out for the rest of the season. As she's agreeing with the irrational callers, I ask her, "You don't really think he's coming back to football from retirement for a second time just to piss off the Packers do you?" She responds "Oh my, yes!" Then she had a mini tantrum right there in the barn as she switched the milking machines between cows. I know the Packer fans around here are serious about their team, but come on, this seems too wacky even for the Cheese Heads.
I went back to the Dermatologist on Tuesday. The moles are gone and healed but the nasty, ugly warts remain on the bottom of my foot. After 2 weeks of acid and Compound W treatments, my poor foot looks like it has been through a war, and lost. The skin is tender to the touch which makes walking a little interesting, but doc says to keep on keeping on if I want to get rid of these awful things for good. Plantar warts are actually caused by a virus (thank you Google), more specifically the human papillomavirus (HPV- the same family of virus that can cause certain types of cervical cancer). The kind of HPV I have is not an STD (no weird foot fetishes around here), but not fun in any case. I go back in 2 weeks for more of the same. I asked my doc how long he thought this eradication process would take, he just laughed. I guess that means no sandals for me this summer. :(
The Honeymoon is officially over! Remember a few months back when my farmer boss had a huge temper tantrum over sweeping? Well she was on good behavior for a few weeks, trying not to be so nit-picky but slowly she has worked her way back to her annoying OCD self. Last night when I pulled into her driveway, there was a truck blocking where I normally would park, so I start aiming for the pre-approved alternate spot when she waves me off (arms flailing and shouting) and makes me park clear across the yard. She walks over and before I even get out of the car she's waving her arms and carrying on and on about how I shouldn't park in the alternate spot anymore and I should just
Then while we were milking the cows, the sports guy was on the radio talking about Brett Favre (former Quarterback for the Green Bay Packers) and his possible move to Minnesota to play for the Vikings. Now normally I don't care about (American) football, it does not interest me in the least and I was actually lucky enough to find a man who also doesn't care about the sport. I know, I lucked out with the Gardener. So anyhow, people are calling in to this sports show and complaining about Brett Favre and how he's just doing this to get back at the Packers management and more than a few callers (during the day this station runs conservative talk shows mind you) were saying that they hope Brett Favre would be hurt (Really Christian Conservatives? You wish harm upon another human being just because he's going to play for a rival team?) in the first game and out for the rest of the season. As she's agreeing with the irrational callers, I ask her, "You don't really think he's coming back to football from retirement for a second time just to piss off the Packers do you?" She responds "Oh my, yes!" Then she had a mini tantrum right there in the barn as she switched the milking machines between cows. I know the Packer fans around here are serious about their team, but come on, this seems too wacky even for the Cheese Heads.
***
I went back to the Dermatologist on Tuesday. The moles are gone and healed but the nasty, ugly warts remain on the bottom of my foot. After 2 weeks of acid and Compound W treatments, my poor foot looks like it has been through a war, and lost. The skin is tender to the touch which makes walking a little interesting, but doc says to keep on keeping on if I want to get rid of these awful things for good. Plantar warts are actually caused by a virus (thank you Google), more specifically the human papillomavirus (HPV- the same family of virus that can cause certain types of cervical cancer). The kind of HPV I have is not an STD (no weird foot fetishes around here), but not fun in any case. I go back in 2 weeks for more of the same. I asked my doc how long he thought this eradication process would take, he just laughed. I guess that means no sandals for me this summer. :(
Monday, April 20, 2009
She's A Terrific Mom
I was all fired up last night and ready to blog about it, but it's never a good idea (for me at least) to blog when I'm angry, so I slept on it, or more accurately tried to sleep on it. To keep it short and as sweet as possible I will say that I had a phone conversation with a first degree relative (that narrows it down almost completely) yesterday that irked me. My relative was going on and on about how a woman he knows is "a terrific mom." Her kids listen to her every command, aren't allowed any indulgences because she's piss broke (his words, not mine) and have never even been to McDonald's. This mom he speaks of is roughly my age (not yet 30) has 4 children all with different fathers, sporadically receives child support when her delinquent baby daddies manage to hold a job long enough that their wages can be garnished.
He feels so bad for her and her situation that he frequently slips her $100 bills to help support her and her 4 children. What? I think it's all fine and good to help out a person in need, but come on. After 2 or 3 kids and mounting bills she decided to have another child with another deadbeat. I'm sorry but this seems like a woman who hasn't learned her lesson, not a woman who needs a handout. And why isn't her family stepping up to help her out financially instead of relying on the kindness of strangers?
What ever happened to the idea of having children when the time is right? What about a stable income and a roof over your head or a committed relationship? I heard a statistic recently that 45% of all babies born in the U.S. are born to unwed mothers. Almost half! While some mothers choose to do the solo parenting thing, I think that is the exception to the rule.
My first child was born 2 weeks after my 22nd Birthday, but I had been married for a year, we owned our own home and never once needed someone to slip me money so I could buy formula and diapers. My husband and I have never been rolling in money, far from it, but we live the best we can with what we have and not beyond. Same goes for mortgages and credit cards. We pay our mortgage every month and try not to carry a balance on our credit cards because it's not responsible. Having more children than you can afford is to me irresponsible. After he (my relative) could tell that I was not impressed with his grass roots philanthropy he said in an effort to cheer me up "she reminds me a lot of you." Not exactly the words I wanted to hear.
I'm sorry if I've offended anyone, but this is how I feel and I needed to get it off my chest. I promise my next post will be a more positive one. And to think this was the sanitized version.
He feels so bad for her and her situation that he frequently slips her $100 bills to help support her and her 4 children. What? I think it's all fine and good to help out a person in need, but come on. After 2 or 3 kids and mounting bills she decided to have another child with another deadbeat. I'm sorry but this seems like a woman who hasn't learned her lesson, not a woman who needs a handout. And why isn't her family stepping up to help her out financially instead of relying on the kindness of strangers?
What ever happened to the idea of having children when the time is right? What about a stable income and a roof over your head or a committed relationship? I heard a statistic recently that 45% of all babies born in the U.S. are born to unwed mothers. Almost half! While some mothers choose to do the solo parenting thing, I think that is the exception to the rule.
My first child was born 2 weeks after my 22nd Birthday, but I had been married for a year, we owned our own home and never once needed someone to slip me money so I could buy formula and diapers. My husband and I have never been rolling in money, far from it, but we live the best we can with what we have and not beyond. Same goes for mortgages and credit cards. We pay our mortgage every month and try not to carry a balance on our credit cards because it's not responsible. Having more children than you can afford is to me irresponsible. After he (my relative) could tell that I was not impressed with his grass roots philanthropy he said in an effort to cheer me up "she reminds me a lot of you." Not exactly the words I wanted to hear.
I'm sorry if I've offended anyone, but this is how I feel and I needed to get it off my chest. I promise my next post will be a more positive one. And to think this was the sanitized version.
Friday, February 27, 2009
An Open Letter To My Washing Machine
Just die already! Seriously, you have put in many years of service and deserve a break, and really so do I. You cost me nothing, this I know. You showed up at our door on an appliance dolly still in the prime of your life ready to go again, and I appreciate that.
You washed my clothes for a very long time faithfully without so much as a peep or leaky hose. You accepted the fact that I have a tendency toherniate overload you all the time on occasion. You didn't bitch, and I appreciate that too, I really do. But recently you have had some slight issues and I don't want you to feel bad or anything but there comes a point in life when... well things don't work like they used to.
You used to do an entire load of rugs without any trouble, now you grunt an groan over a simple load of whites on the delicate cycle. I mean come on, delicate? how more careful can I be? Your fun antics of shaking and gyrating all over my laundry room has started to scare my children and make a mess now that you have lost all control of your fluids. Yeah we could probably have you repaired but at this point I would rather put you to rest and maybe even recycle you so you could live again in another form. So please before I have to get out a hammer and smash your innards, GIVE IT UP. And while your at it take your lousy dryer friend with you.
You washed my clothes for a very long time faithfully without so much as a peep or leaky hose. You accepted the fact that I have a tendency to
You used to do an entire load of rugs without any trouble, now you grunt an groan over a simple load of whites on the delicate cycle. I mean come on, delicate? how more careful can I be? Your fun antics of shaking and gyrating all over my laundry room has started to scare my children and make a mess now that you have lost all control of your fluids. Yeah we could probably have you repaired but at this point I would rather put you to rest and maybe even recycle you so you could live again in another form. So please before I have to get out a hammer and smash your innards, GIVE IT UP. And while your at it take your lousy dryer friend with you.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
A Panty Liner For My Cell Phone
So my run of crappy luck the other day didn't end with me cleaning up Root Beer that sprayed all over my kitchen. I decided to take Mae to the Art Center so we could spend some quality time doing her favorite thing, art. We got there and the Artery studio was closed, so instead we walked around the galleries and checked out all of the art except for the largest most interesting gallery, because that too was closed for rotation. Go figure, maybe I should read the newsletter they send out instead of just looking at the pictures. After that I thought we would go to this cute little deli downtown and pick up some funky salads to go with dinner, but we got there 5 minutes after they closed. Luckily the best little chocolate truffle shop was only 2 doors down, so we popped in there (they were open) and each picked out a truffle to nibble on the way home. Oh and my cell phone died.
I swear this time I didn't drop it into a swimming pool, it just stopped working. I took it in this morning to the cell phone store where the guy behind the counter says "Oh, it looks like your warranty expired on the 5th." As in February 5, just 6 days ago. Son-of-a-bitch! He did a few things, handed it back to me and said "here, it works now, and for future reference you need to turn off your phone occasionally, that's why it didn't work." Oh, I'm the dumbass, sorry. Well turns out it wasn't me because as I walked out of the store I tried to call my voicemail and retrieve all of the messages that I couldn't get before because apparently I don't know how to operate my phone, and to my delight the damn thing shut off again. Like a big F-you. I marched back into the store, handed the guy my phone and said "here, she don't work." Before I even had time to haul my extra bitchy out of my purse, he agreed to replace my phone with no charge. Now I just have to remove all of those plastic screen protecting stickers they put on new phones. Reminds me of those nasty liners that are in swimsuits when you try them on at the store. Ick!
And we got our tax refund today, things are looking up!
I swear this time I didn't drop it into a swimming pool, it just stopped working. I took it in this morning to the cell phone store where the guy behind the counter says "Oh, it looks like your warranty expired on the 5th." As in February 5, just 6 days ago. Son-of-a-bitch! He did a few things, handed it back to me and said "here, it works now, and for future reference you need to turn off your phone occasionally, that's why it didn't work." Oh, I'm the dumbass, sorry. Well turns out it wasn't me because as I walked out of the store I tried to call my voicemail and retrieve all of the messages that I couldn't get before because apparently I don't know how to operate my phone, and to my delight the damn thing shut off again. Like a big F-you. I marched back into the store, handed the guy my phone and said "here, she don't work." Before I even had time to haul my extra bitchy out of my purse, he agreed to replace my phone with no charge. Now I just have to remove all of those plastic screen protecting stickers they put on new phones. Reminds me of those nasty liners that are in swimsuits when you try them on at the store. Ick!
And we got our tax refund today, things are looking up!
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Pushing for Perfection
As parents we all think that our children are the brightest, most talented little creatures that ever lived and it's our job as parents to encourage and support our children. However, there is a line that occasionally gets crossed. We all know of those crazy soccer parents who are at every practice with a mug of coffee, a whistle and obnoxious commentary from the sidelines, or the parents that push their children into learning the violin at age 3. We all want our children to be the best and have happy healthy lives, but realistically they can't all be sports stars or masters of the violin, or in Binny and Mae's case award winning artists.
The picture she drew of herself reeks of adult "help." The hair, the eyes, the nose, the perfectly round face. That's just not Binny's style, and not the work I would expect out of the average 4 year old. I know she didn't draw this because I know my child and her drawings, and frankly I'm irritated that a teacher had the nerve to take a crayon from a child's hand and destroy the beautiful work she was creating. Her father and I know that she's still developing her drawing skills and we feel that she needs to learn this on her own or by example on A SEPARATE PIECE OF PAPER. I don't mind someone reinforcing that she needs to include all the features of a face, or instructing her to maybe use more than one color, but taking over and doing it for her, not my idea of constructive teaching.
Hubby and I have encouraged art in our children's lives since the moment they were able to grasp a paintbrush or pencil. We see art as an expression of one's self and an outlet for their emotions. I can tell if Binny's having a good day or bad day based on a drawing and same for Mae. We never criticize their art and rarely ask "what is it?" because does it really matter what it is? Not to us. They are old enough now to draw things that are recognizable and they'll tell us what they drew, for example Binny drew a picture of me recently and came right out and said that it was a picture of me getting out of the shower. I couldn't have instructed her to draw such a thing; she thought of it on her own, drew it on her own, presented it to me on her own, and hung it on the fridge on her own. She feels a great sense of accomplishment when she can do something all by herself, why wouldn't she, she's 4.
At school, Binny's class has been learning about families for the past week. The children brought in photos of their families, practiced writing the names of all of their family members, and so on. Yesterday she brought home a handmade book with the title "My Family." On each page of the book was a drawing of each family member. One for mom, one for dad, one for Mae and one of herself. As I paged through the book I was quite pleased with her progress... until I got to the picture of her.
The picture she drew of herself reeks of adult "help." The hair, the eyes, the nose, the perfectly round face. That's just not Binny's style, and not the work I would expect out of the average 4 year old. I know she didn't draw this because I know my child and her drawings, and frankly I'm irritated that a teacher had the nerve to take a crayon from a child's hand and destroy the beautiful work she was creating. Her father and I know that she's still developing her drawing skills and we feel that she needs to learn this on her own or by example on A SEPARATE PIECE OF PAPER. I don't mind someone reinforcing that she needs to include all the features of a face, or instructing her to maybe use more than one color, but taking over and doing it for her, not my idea of constructive teaching.To us, art is a very personal thing and judging someone by their artistic abilities just isn't fair. Either you have it or you don't. No different than the ability to sing (in a pleasing way- forget American Idol), dance, play an instrument, etc. If she were uninterested or had a short attention span I could maybe understand, but I know that's not the case and if so I would like to hear about it. Her report card came home yesterday, with all high marks and no concerns from the teacher. What gives?
These are two of Binny's recent drawings, both of herself.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
New Year's Resolutions Suck
OK, seriously who even sticks to resolutions, especially the weight loss kind that are made in a post Christmas sugar rush/ I can feel my ass growing state? Not this gal. Instead I have a few possibly unattainable aspirations for the coming year.
- Healthy children- I'm not trying to avoid the common cold or even the screaming shits (that we've been battling for the last few days... poor Mae), but for crap sake no hospitalization (I lowered the flex benefit plan)
- Employed hubby
- Another year of life for my gimpy dogs (poor Rocko AKA tripod)
- Sisters-in-law. OK that's stretch and maybe I don't want what any one of those boys would bring home, but hey it's lonely being the only girl.
- and lastly a boob job!
Really these are all just a sick fantasy of mine and I don't expect any of these to come to fruition, except the healthy kids thing, I need a break from the pediatrician's office. I think they're starting to suspect that I may have Munchausen by proxy syndrome.
That last part was totally a joke, no need to call CPS.
Happy New Year
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
What's with all of the receipts?
I don't know about anyone else, but I'm getting fed up with all of the garbage that comes shooting out of the cash register every time I make a purchase. You know, the 3+ coupons, and advertising crap the gets shoved in your hand along with the change, coins right on top of the bills of course, so the whole shit can fall on the floor and make a mess. Like I don't have enough going on in the line at the store with 2 girls who almost always need to use the bathroom, and the whole it's cold out thing that doesn't seem to be going away just yet, so while wearing mittens I'm trying wrangle a big wad of paper into my purse without losing the one piece of paper I do want- the actual receipt.
This was the pile of paper garbage from one shopping trip. 3 coupons for Sears and I'm not sure why, I didn't even make a purchase. I paid my Discover card bill, and out comes 3 super-long pieces of paper telling me I can save 10% on Holiday decor, $10 off work boots, and $40 off Treadmills. Is Sears calling me fat?
Besides being extremely wasteful, it's annoying and gives my husband one more chance to call me disorganized because every time I reach in my purse, it's like a ticker tape parade, without the parade, of course.
This was the pile of paper garbage from one shopping trip. 3 coupons for Sears and I'm not sure why, I didn't even make a purchase. I paid my Discover card bill, and out comes 3 super-long pieces of paper telling me I can save 10% on Holiday decor, $10 off work boots, and $40 off Treadmills. Is Sears calling me fat?
Besides being extremely wasteful, it's annoying and gives my husband one more chance to call me disorganized because every time I reach in my purse, it's like a ticker tape parade, without the parade, of course.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
No wonder GM is failing
I have a lot of mixed feelings about the huge, expensive, may not help a damn bit Automaker bailout. I feel horrible for the families who depend on these jobs and trusted the union to make the right decisions on their behalf. But if Washington decides to hand them a fat stack of our money there had better be some changes, because their cars kind of suck.
When I was pregnant with Mae I was driving a 2 door Cadillac Eldorado, which I loved so much but certainly was not practical for me to be hoisting a baby carseat into the backseat of the thing on a daily basis, not happening. So, we decided that we should look for a new car. We decided against used because I really wanted the factory warranty especially with a new baby and unpredictable winters. Plus after a year of driving a fancy, schmancy Cadillac there were a few features I wasn't willing to give up; like traction control, heated seats, keyless entry, radio that stays on until you open the door (don't ask me why, but that is one of the best non-necessary features a car can have). We looked at so many cars and finally decided to buy American and get apiece of crap Chevy Impala. I really didn't like the Impala, I kind of thought of it as an old lady car, but it was the most practical for us with the options I clearly can't live without.
You would think that a new car would be great, work properly, easy right? Of course not. I had that thing into the dealership on an almost monthly basis for small stuff and major problems, every time the dealership just waved me off, and fixed the car only for it to happen again. The engine uses about 2 quarts of oil between changes. "Oh, that's normal Ma'am." The heater blower went out, they replaced it but it still rattles like my kids stuffed a McDonald's toy in it. The damn thing won't restart if it's been running, turned off then try to start again (like when I pump gas). The dealership wouldn't even give me a reason why that happens, just told me to hold the key longer. THAT'S NOT A SOLUTION, DUMB-ASS. So of course after the warranty ran out the damn thing broke down and we were forced to spend $1200 on sensors and whatever else failed. My way too expensive, piece of junk car is currently working but for how long?
Which brings me to today. My husband got a new company service van (he's an electrician) about a month ago and has had a lot of problems with it. This Chevy van was slightly used with only 8,000 miles on it and now has developed a starting problem, and the transmission intermittently refuses to shift. It still smells new, but won't start. What gives? He took my car to work this morning, hopefully he doesn't need any of his big tools and hopefully I don't need to go anywhere. The only other vehicle we have is our older Chevy pick-up with no exhaust and a bad engine.
Not making friends with American Automakers today. I shouldn't say that they are all bad, but Chevy/ GM definitely needs to take a look at the quality and construction of their vehicles.
When I was pregnant with Mae I was driving a 2 door Cadillac Eldorado, which I loved so much but certainly was not practical for me to be hoisting a baby carseat into the backseat of the thing on a daily basis, not happening. So, we decided that we should look for a new car. We decided against used because I really wanted the factory warranty especially with a new baby and unpredictable winters. Plus after a year of driving a fancy, schmancy Cadillac there were a few features I wasn't willing to give up; like traction control, heated seats, keyless entry, radio that stays on until you open the door (don't ask me why, but that is one of the best non-necessary features a car can have). We looked at so many cars and finally decided to buy American and get a
You would think that a new car would be great, work properly, easy right? Of course not. I had that thing into the dealership on an almost monthly basis for small stuff and major problems, every time the dealership just waved me off, and fixed the car only for it to happen again. The engine uses about 2 quarts of oil between changes. "Oh, that's normal Ma'am." The heater blower went out, they replaced it but it still rattles like my kids stuffed a McDonald's toy in it. The damn thing won't restart if it's been running, turned off then try to start again (like when I pump gas). The dealership wouldn't even give me a reason why that happens, just told me to hold the key longer. THAT'S NOT A SOLUTION, DUMB-ASS. So of course after the warranty ran out the damn thing broke down and we were forced to spend $1200 on sensors and whatever else failed. My way too expensive, piece of junk car is currently working but for how long?
Which brings me to today. My husband got a new company service van (he's an electrician) about a month ago and has had a lot of problems with it. This Chevy van was slightly used with only 8,000 miles on it and now has developed a starting problem, and the transmission intermittently refuses to shift. It still smells new, but won't start. What gives? He took my car to work this morning, hopefully he doesn't need any of his big tools and hopefully I don't need to go anywhere. The only other vehicle we have is our older Chevy pick-up with no exhaust and a bad engine.
Not making friends with American Automakers today. I shouldn't say that they are all bad, but Chevy/ GM definitely needs to take a look at the quality and construction of their vehicles.
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