My spring intern has left, my summer intern won't start for about six weeks, and I find myself without a minion in the next office. By coincidence, I was out on Saturday evening and met a nice young man who is between work contracts. I offered him an office to camp out in while he job hunts in exchange for some help. We exchanged information and I heard from him earlier this week.
Great, right?
No.
I asked him to send me his resume so I can share it with the higher ups in the office and get the official go ahead. The resume is bad. Typos, grammar, spacing, different font styles and sizes. I noted several to him, told him to clean it up, have someone else edit it for him, then send it back to me. He apologized that he sent me the wrong version. Ok, cool, I understand how mortifying that can be. This morning I received a new version of the resume. Except that it's the same. The old typos have been changed to new typos (softwares is now software's). Bullets have periods, or no periods, or multiple periods. I don't care what one uses, just be consistent!
Anyhoo, this isn't going to work. Crap. I was hopeful. I gave him a second chance. The Jill of 10 years ago never would have done such a thing. I'm getting soft in my old age. The mother hen in me really wants to bring him in, take him under my wing, and nurture him along. The ruthless bitch in me wants to send him a copy of his resume with red pen circling everything wrong. The professional in me will send him an email tactfully stating that there were some objections to his resume and thanks but no thanks.
Gah.
Thursday, May 3, 2012
Wednesday, May 2, 2012
And...
Would someone kindly explain to me how it's May?
AND I want to wish a very happy birthday to my Gay Husband. May this be the year you meet your beach house owning architect and give my children starring roles in your wedding ceremony. Or maybe not if you have a top shelf open bar. Momma needs to get her drink on.
AND I want to wish a very happy birthday to my Gay Husband. May this be the year you meet your beach house owning architect and give my children starring roles in your wedding ceremony. Or maybe not if you have a top shelf open bar. Momma needs to get her drink on.
Little Swimmers
The Jokers running this country have gone home to campaign for the week, so things are quieting down around here.
The Dynamic Duo have been in swim lessons for the past six weeks. Batman is in level 3, and is swimming across the lap lanes with the assistance of a kick board. Robin is in Mommy and Me. Next week, they start a four week session and Robin will be in a big kid class without having a parent in the pool (YIPPEE!! HOORAY!!) but I'm wondering how he will do once he realizes mommy isn't getting in there with him. I'm not expecting miracles in four weeks, but I'm hoping he learns some skills on his own. Our community pool opens Memorial Day weekend and I want the boys to have some water survival skills.
After lessons are completed, I'm not sure what to do. I think it might be best (and cheapest/less stressful) just to hang out at our pool and let them practice/play around. The helicopter parent in me thinks they need more lessons, an organized structure, and measurable deliverables. The lazy person in me thinks the helicopter parent in me needs to get a grip.
Being from the west coast, I know so many people who are part fish. Most of them grew up being in/around/near the water year round. In Virginia, our water access isn't as available throughout the year and very few people have public pools. Still, I know several kids Batman's age who are already little fishies, jumping off the diving board and swimming around in the deep end. I am not a strong swimmer and I want my kids to be better than competent, though no pressure to be the next Michael Phelps.
Ok, this is dull and no one besides me cares.
The Dynamic Duo have been in swim lessons for the past six weeks. Batman is in level 3, and is swimming across the lap lanes with the assistance of a kick board. Robin is in Mommy and Me. Next week, they start a four week session and Robin will be in a big kid class without having a parent in the pool (YIPPEE!! HOORAY!!) but I'm wondering how he will do once he realizes mommy isn't getting in there with him. I'm not expecting miracles in four weeks, but I'm hoping he learns some skills on his own. Our community pool opens Memorial Day weekend and I want the boys to have some water survival skills.
After lessons are completed, I'm not sure what to do. I think it might be best (and cheapest/less stressful) just to hang out at our pool and let them practice/play around. The helicopter parent in me thinks they need more lessons, an organized structure, and measurable deliverables. The lazy person in me thinks the helicopter parent in me needs to get a grip.
Being from the west coast, I know so many people who are part fish. Most of them grew up being in/around/near the water year round. In Virginia, our water access isn't as available throughout the year and very few people have public pools. Still, I know several kids Batman's age who are already little fishies, jumping off the diving board and swimming around in the deep end. I am not a strong swimmer and I want my kids to be better than competent, though no pressure to be the next Michael Phelps.
Ok, this is dull and no one besides me cares.
Thursday, April 26, 2012
Migraine, Day 2.5
As if I didn't have enough going on this week with multiple markups, an angry bovine, an upset colon (Batman), and worrying about what to wear clubbing with my Gay Husband on Saturday so as not to embarrass him in front of his friends, a baby migraine came to visit on Tuesday. He decided to invite some friends and have a party in my right eye yesterday. Today he seems to have invited a marching band.
Because I am not one to suffer in silence, I took some Excedrin Migraine yesterday morning. Then some more in the afternoon. And some more before taking to my bed when I finally got home late last night. This morning, as I tipped the bottle and shook meds into my hand, I noted the label reads "Do not take more than two in a 24 hour period." Because it was first thing in the morning, my head/eye throbbed, and I didn't get any sleep the night before, I swallowed the pills before the meaning of the words sank in. Great, an overdose is exactly what I needed today. I'm a frickin' moron.
Hi, my name is Jill and I have a drug problem.
Because I am not one to suffer in silence, I took some Excedrin Migraine yesterday morning. Then some more in the afternoon. And some more before taking to my bed when I finally got home late last night. This morning, as I tipped the bottle and shook meds into my hand, I noted the label reads "Do not take more than two in a 24 hour period." Because it was first thing in the morning, my head/eye throbbed, and I didn't get any sleep the night before, I swallowed the pills before the meaning of the words sank in. Great, an overdose is exactly what I needed today. I'm a frickin' moron.
Hi, my name is Jill and I have a drug problem.
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
Do NOT anger the domesticated farm animals
In case you're wondering where I am, some Jokers made a bovine angry AND gave Batman some, ahem, gastrointestinal issues. Busy little Jokers...
Friday, April 20, 2012
Challenge Accepted
I am a horrible accessorizer. I can put an outfit together, do my hair, but I can't coordinate accessories (nor can I change up my makeup, but I'll let B address that sometime since makeup is her thing.) This week, I have challenged myself to accessorize my outfit each day.
Now that Robin isn't trying to kill himself every 30 seconds, I have an extra five or ten minutes each morning to do my hair, pull together an outfit, and add a little extra something. It really is amazing what a difference a belt and a necklace can make. Or a ring and a bracelet. Voila! It's an entirely different look.
This week was a huge success, until today. Don't get me wrong. I tried. But my skinny dark jeans, white t, and black jacket just don't look right. They sound like they should, but they don't. The accessory of the day today is a Glamour black out bar over my face.
Now that Robin isn't trying to kill himself every 30 seconds, I have an extra five or ten minutes each morning to do my hair, pull together an outfit, and add a little extra something. It really is amazing what a difference a belt and a necklace can make. Or a ring and a bracelet. Voila! It's an entirely different look.
This week was a huge success, until today. Don't get me wrong. I tried. But my skinny dark jeans, white t, and black jacket just don't look right. They sound like they should, but they don't. The accessory of the day today is a Glamour black out bar over my face.
Thursday, April 19, 2012
RIP
Blanchard, Michael "Flathead"
1944 ~ 2012
A Celebration of the life of Michael "Flathead" Blanchard will be held on April 14th, 3 pm 8160 Rosemary St, Commerce City. Weary of reading obituaries noting someone's courageous battle with death, Mike wanted it known that he died as a result of being stubborn, refusing to follow doctors' orders and raising hell for more than six decades. He enjoyed booze, guns, cars and younger women until the day he died.
Mike was born July 1944 in Colorado to Clyde and Ethel Blanchard. A community activist, he is noted for saving the Dr. Justina Ford house from demolition and defending those who could not defend themselves. He was a Republican delegate, life member of the NRA, founder and President of the Dead Cats MC. He loved music.
Mike was preceded in death by Clyde and Ethel Blanchard, survived by his beloved sons Mike and Chopper, former wife Jane Transue, brother Stephen Blanchard (Susan), Uncle Don and Aunt Cynthia Blanchard(his favorite); Uncle Dill and Aunt Dot, cousins and nephews, Baba Yaga can kiss his butt. So many of his childhood friends that weren't killed in Vietnam went on to become criminals, prostitutes and/or Democrats. He asks that you stop by and re-tell the stories he can no longer tell. As the Celebration will contain Adult material we respectfully ask that no children under 18 attend.
1944 ~ 2012
A Celebration of the life of Michael "Flathead" Blanchard will be held on April 14th, 3 pm 8160 Rosemary St, Commerce City. Weary of reading obituaries noting someone's courageous battle with death, Mike wanted it known that he died as a result of being stubborn, refusing to follow doctors' orders and raising hell for more than six decades. He enjoyed booze, guns, cars and younger women until the day he died.
Mike was born July 1944 in Colorado to Clyde and Ethel Blanchard. A community activist, he is noted for saving the Dr. Justina Ford house from demolition and defending those who could not defend themselves. He was a Republican delegate, life member of the NRA, founder and President of the Dead Cats MC. He loved music.
Mike was preceded in death by Clyde and Ethel Blanchard, survived by his beloved sons Mike and Chopper, former wife Jane Transue, brother Stephen Blanchard (Susan), Uncle Don and Aunt Cynthia Blanchard(his favorite); Uncle Dill and Aunt Dot, cousins and nephews, Baba Yaga can kiss his butt. So many of his childhood friends that weren't killed in Vietnam went on to become criminals, prostitutes and/or Democrats. He asks that you stop by and re-tell the stories he can no longer tell. As the Celebration will contain Adult material we respectfully ask that no children under 18 attend.
Published in Denver Post on April 12, 2012
http://www.legacy.com/obituaries/denverpost/obituary.aspx?n=michael-blanchard-flathead&pid=156944598
No relation, but I would love for my obituary to read like this someday.
No relation, but I would love for my obituary to read like this someday.
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
NYT Op-Ed
Phony Mommy Wars
By MAUREEN DOWD
Published: April 17, 2012
Ann Romney is a good mom.
She’s also a good pol.
And though her people skills are far superior to Mitt’s, it turns out that Ann is just as capable as her husband of turning an advantage into a disadvantage.
After the liberal strategist Hilary Rosen clumsily mocked Mitt Romney for relying on Ann to tell him what issues women care about when “his wife has actually never worked a day in her life,” Ann smashed that lob back.
Blasting out her first tweet, she said: “I made a choice to stay home and raise five boys. Believe me, it was hard work.”
Shaken Democrats dived for cover and threw Rosen under the campaign bus. The media, worried about being perceived as favoring President Obama, jumped in on the side of the maligned Ann.
She pressed her advantage, scolding Rosen on Fox News. “She should have come to my house when those five boys were causing so much trouble,” Ann said. She alluded to her brave battles against breast cancer and multiple sclerosis: “Look, I know what it’s like to struggle.”
But at a fund-raiser at a private home in Palm Beach, Fla., on Sunday, the night before her 63rd birthday, Ann made it clear that she wasn’t really aggrieved. She was feigning aggrievement to milk the moment.
“It was my early birthday present for someone to be critical of me as a mother, and that was really a defining moment, and I loved it,” a gleeful Ann told the backyard full of Florida fat cats, sounding “like a political tactician,” as Garrett Haake, the NBC reporter on the scene, put it.
It’s important when you act the martyr not to overplay your hand. If you admit out loud to a bunch of people — including Haake, who was on the sidewalk enterprisingly eavesdropping — that you’re just pretending to be offended, you risk looking phony, like your husband. (It also doesn’t fly to tell Diane Sawyer that your dog “loved” 12 hours in a crate on top of the car or that it’s “our turn” to be in the White House.)
The candidate, meanwhile, continued to look phony by presenting a completely different side of himself to the wealthy Palm Beach donors who came in fancy cars to eat snapper and hear a snappier Mitt.
Rather than making bland pronouncements or parsing patriotic songs, as he usually does, Mitt gave a more specific vision of a Romney White House, including the possible elimination of the Department of Housing and Urban Development, which his dad once led, and vivisecting the Department of Education. He also talked about ways he might close tax loopholes for the affluent — another matter he hasn’t been too detailed about — to pay for his cuts in tax rates.
Mitt offered a different view of the value of working parents in January when he talked about how he changed welfare rules as governor of Massachusetts:
“I said, for instance, that even if you have a child 2 years of age, you need to go to work. And people said, well, that’s heartless. And I said, no, no, I’m willing to spend more giving day care to allow those parents to go back to work. It will cost the state more providing that day care, but I want the individuals to have the dignity of work.”
So the dignity of work only applies to poor moms?
This latest kerfuffle is piffle, but it is another instance of Republicans dragging women back to the past to re-litigate issues they thought were long settled.
Just as women had assumed their contraception rights were safe, they had considered the tiresome debate about working moms versus stay-at-home moms over. My mom stayed home to raise five kids, and she is my feminist role model.
For the most part, nobody’s casting aspersions on anybody else’s choices, which are often driven by economics. Women have so many choices that they’re overwhelmed by the stress of so many choices.
The real issue is whether Mitt, a tycoon who has been swathed in an old-fashioned cocoon, understands the plight of working mothers and the rights of 21st-century women.
When the Romneys got married and moved to Boston in 1971 so Mitt could attend Harvard, they set up house in a suburb, befriended other young Mormon couples and kept to their cloistered, conservative, privileged, traditional, white, heterosexual circle.
Campuses were roiling with change — feminism, civil rights, antiwar demonstrations — but the Romneys were not part of that. They were throwbacks.
“The parental roles were clear,” Michael Kranish and Scott Helman write in “The Real Romney.” “Mitt would have the career, and Ann would run the house.”
We will see if these affluent, soon-to-be owners of a car elevator in La Jolla and members of the horsey set can relate to the economic problems of regular people.
Given how secretive and shape-shifting Mitt Romney is, we’ll probably have to keep eavesdropping to find out.
I feel very strongly about the Mommy Wars, but even more so about how that plays out in politics. I'm a mom and work full time. I have the luxury of saying that's my choice but I think the majority of working women don't have the same luxury. Working mothers worry about quality affordable daycare (a must), keeping the boss happy, whether a traffic accident will keep them from picking up the children before closing time, what to have for dinner, whether laundry will get done, how the bills will get paid (both literally and figuratively, because the checks don't write themselves), and a million other things. At home moms also worry about some of these things, but not others.
I don't deny that Ann Romney worked hard when she was home raising her five boys (FIVE! I have two and I have no idea how she kept her sanity!) but I can say that Ann has no inkling of my life. She cannot relate to being a middle class working mother.
I have serious concerns about the future of women in this country. Employer sponsored health insurance gives me access to birth control which, in turn, has allowed The Spouse and I to decide how/when/what size of family we would like to have. This has allowed me the freedom to work outside the home (I couldn't afford daycare for more children). If it weren't for our health insurance, I would have to turn to a clinic such as Planned Parenthood. Attacks on Planned Parenthood are not just promoting a right to life agenda, it's an attack on working/poor/lower class women who don't have other means of birth control. Sure, some of those whores and sluts shouldn't be fornicating outside of the marital bed (nod to you Catholics and Evangelicals), but a good portion of them are married women without other options.
Preventing women from taking control of their reproduction prevents women from financial self sufficiency and keeps them tied to the home. Perhaps in the eyes of Ann Romney, an upper class woman and a Mormon - a church that celebrates large families - that's a good thing. In the eyes of this working mother it's not.
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
What I Did Today
I saw Space Shuttle Discovery fly over the National Mall today. I was just outside the White House, on the lawn. Yes, my job has some perks. The commute is terrible, but the perks are worth it. Most days.
Monday, April 16, 2012
While I've Been Away
My friends Brad and Angie got engaged. Blah. Whatever. I'm so over them. Frankly, I can't stand them and the only reason we are friends is because we joined the same online mommy support group during our second pregnancies and now our kids are all besties, except that Batman and Robin keep pestering me to let them ride on Mad's dad's motorcycle and buy them Nerf guns and stuff. Sheesh, I can't get a break. But Robin and Knox are inseparable and Zahara lets me play with her kitchen (girlfriend has got some bad hair). I have to perfect my skills before I bring home my Haitian baby (shh, let's keep that on the down low so that bitch Angie doesn't get my daughter before I do.)
Also, the boy wonder who stole my job was promoted to Dear Leader of North Korea had a pretty major embarrassment big joke played on the world press. He invited everyone over to watch a long range rocket launch, then exploded it just to show that he could. Rumor has it, the rocket isn't the only thing that Kim Jong Un has that prematurely explodes, if you get my gist. (Yes, I started that rumor right here, but I'm still bitter I was passed over for the dictator position.)
I'm wearing a fancy new ring and bracelet today. Not as fancy as Angie's, but who's competing (besides her)?
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
Fear not, fans, I have returned from the great heartland of America, escaped unscathed from the clutches of the Bible Belt, and scored points with the Spouse. Yes, I survived five days in Kansas with my in-laws!* I have stories to tell and pictures to post, but the Jokers are keeping me busy catching up at work. Back later with updates.
Your Dear Leader,
Jill
*Ok, I kinda won the lottery when it comes to in-laws, but it's un-American not to complain about the inlaws.
Your Dear Leader,
Jill
*Ok, I kinda won the lottery when it comes to in-laws, but it's un-American not to complain about the inlaws.
Friday, March 30, 2012
If I didn't have adult ADD, I would be unstoppable. I have had the most productive week. If I were always like this, I would be running both North AND South Korea. And, quite possibly, the northern part of China.
In between projects, I have been joining Mega Millions lottery pools and daydreaming about how to spend my money:
-Gentleman's farm in the country with lots of goats and dogs.
-Hire Snoop Dog for the house warming.
-Purchase a new pussy wagon. Cherry red with a white roof and white wall tires. And lots of chrome. It would be sweet.
-Rent out a cruise ship and bring all my friends and family on a week long cruise. Now that we all have kids, it will probably be a Disney Cruise ship.
-Run for Congress. Why not? If Hank the Cat can run for Senate, I can run for Congress.
Now I'm off to deal with some Jokers.
In between projects, I have been joining Mega Millions lottery pools and daydreaming about how to spend my money:
-Gentleman's farm in the country with lots of goats and dogs.
-Hire Snoop Dog for the house warming.
-Purchase a new pussy wagon. Cherry red with a white roof and white wall tires. And lots of chrome. It would be sweet.
-Rent out a cruise ship and bring all my friends and family on a week long cruise. Now that we all have kids, it will probably be a Disney Cruise ship.
-Run for Congress. Why not? If Hank the Cat can run for Senate, I can run for Congress.
Now I'm off to deal with some Jokers.
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Monday, March 26, 2012
Grease is the word. Indeed.
Batman was really sick over the weekend. It turned out to be a bad case of strep but I ran him to the ER because we were afraid it was meningitis. Anyhoo, I'm way behind on work, so just stopping in to post the bling of the day:
I'm not one to mix my metals, but it looks great with a silver jacket that would be just like the one Rizzo wore if only it were pink.
Sadly, my name is not monogrammed on my jacket. Sad face.
I'm not one to mix my metals, but it looks great with a silver jacket that would be just like the one Rizzo wore if only it were pink.
Sadly, my name is not monogrammed on my jacket. Sad face.
Thursday, March 22, 2012
It's Official
I may resent the arrival of spring, but it is here nonetheless. Might as well make the best of it. I put my point-n-shoot camera in my bag and snapped some pics of DC in spring. Enjoy!
Lincoln Memorial and Washington Monument, from the bridge.
Albert Einstein. He wears a Santa hat in December.
Happy Spring, everyone!
I gripe a lot about my commute, but it is really scenic. I am blown away daily by the landscape and the monuments. But that doesn't mean I won't bitch and complain about sitting in traffic. Here are a few snapshots from yesterday morning.
Arlington House on the hill, Lady Bird Johnson is responsible for the fields of daffodils.
Lincoln Memorial and Washington Monument, from the bridge.
Vietnam War Memorial
Albert Einstein. He wears a Santa hat in December.
Happy Spring, everyone!
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Migrating Herds
The annual migration to Washington, DC, has begun. In a tradition familiar to watchers of the National Geographic channel, Americans of all races, states, and economic means load up the family truckster and schools cram dozens of sweaty 8th graders into buses. Educational spring break trips to Washington are underway.
Itineraries will include a visit to the Capitol and (probably) a meeting with an elected representative, the Washington Monument, a cruise past the White House, and a visit to at least one Smithsonian Institution - all so the kids can claim the highlight of the trip was shopping at Pentagon City mall and ordering room service.
We locals curse the traffic (my commute time has doubled, ugh) but thank those that spend their hard earned money in our region. Gotta run. Time to watch tourists play Frogger on Henry Bacon Drive!
Monday, March 19, 2012
Football
A good portion of my Facebook page and Twitter feed this morning has been consumed with the announcement that Peyton Manning is going to Denver to play for the Broncos. Comments vary from those that love the Broncos but hate Manning, those that love Manning but hate the Broncos, those that hate both Manning and the Broncos, those that are pissed Manning didn't choose their team (Raiders fans, looking at you), and those that don't really care but feel compelled to comment because this is big NFL news (me).
Despite all the concerns voiced by Tim Tebow fans, this actually makes a lot of sense. Tebow will be taken in the Rapture, which will happen prior to the end of the world in December (per the Mayan calendar). The Broncos are doing the smart thing by signing someone to lead the team in his absence. After all, no one knows when the Rapture will happen - right, Harold Camping?
Friday, March 16, 2012
Baby steps
I have taken the first step toward the sell/buy/move we have planned: I have rented the storage unit. I haven't put anything in it yet, but it's rented. I have also scheduled a handyman to start the yard long list of things to repair/replace before listing the Batcave for sale. So that's something.
I'm pretty overwhelmed by the amount of stuff that needs to get done. When we sold my condo, we did all the work ourselves. Nine years later, we have less time and more commitments, so we are going to hire out most of the work. It will likely cost less than marriage counseling and babysitters.
I'm pretty overwhelmed by the amount of stuff that needs to get done. When we sold my condo, we did all the work ourselves. Nine years later, we have less time and more commitments, so we are going to hire out most of the work. It will likely cost less than marriage counseling and babysitters.
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Screw you, spring!
I am refusing to give in to this beautiful weather we are having. I know it's a trick. A mind fuck to get us to think that it will be blue skies and 70 degrees so that we pack away all our cold weather gear - just in time for the temperature to slip back into the 30s.
To throw spring off, I am pretending to enjoy it. I've opened the windows, worn short sleeves, gone for long walks at lunch time. Hell, I've even admired the cherry blossoms and daffodils that line my commute (side note: Thanks, Lady Bird Johnson, for beautifying America's roadways!) However, I know that this won't last and I'm keeping the coats, scarves, and gloves around. Spring can suck up to me in mid-April.
To throw spring off, I am pretending to enjoy it. I've opened the windows, worn short sleeves, gone for long walks at lunch time. Hell, I've even admired the cherry blossoms and daffodils that line my commute (side note: Thanks, Lady Bird Johnson, for beautifying America's roadways!) However, I know that this won't last and I'm keeping the coats, scarves, and gloves around. Spring can suck up to me in mid-April.
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Politics Is Ugly
Virginia has an open Senate seat this year. After some soul searching, I have decided that I'm 98.5% sure I'm not running for the seat, mostly because I'm lazy, poor, and have skeletons in just about every closet in the Batcave.
After watching the George Allen "Macaca" video over and over again, I have found a candidate I can get behind. Sadly, a Super PAC has begun running negative campaign ads against him:
And now this:
Politics is not for the feint of heart.
Hank for Senate!!
After watching the George Allen "Macaca" video over and over again, I have found a candidate I can get behind. Sadly, a Super PAC has begun running negative campaign ads against him:
And now this:
Politics is not for the feint of heart.
Hank for Senate!!
Friday, March 9, 2012
Today's accessory
With dark skinny jeans and a heather gray cowl neck sweater.
In other news, today is a pretty big day in pop culture history. Fifteen years ago today, Buffy the Vampire Slayer debuted AND Notorious B.I.G. was gunned down.
Thursday, March 8, 2012
Run for your lives!
Norovirus is holding the Washington, DC, region in a state of terror. Schools have been closed, hand sanitizer has flown off store shelves, the nightly news runs regular updates on the current status. So, of course, Batman came down with it. We hate to miss a good infestation.
I was home with him Monday and Wednesday, and The Spouse covered Tuesday. Thankfully, he's back at school today. I'm way behind on work, just stopping in to yell, "The Sky is Falling!!"
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
I'm a ho
I've turned into a sucker for shop at home parties. I used to hate attending Mary Kay (no! I DON'T want to be a Mary Kay lady), Pampered Chef (loved the food, but it was way too expensive for my broke ass), or any of the other shows that I was invited to attend. I would politely decline unless backed into a corner.
Sometime in the past year, I relented, and now I am a shop-at-home-party slut. Bags? Sure, I'm there! Jewelry? Yes, I'd love to host a party! I have a problem. I must stop.
This weekend, I co-hosted a lia sophia jewelry party with a friend (at her house, because the Batcave is a pit of dispair). After hours of playing with sparkly things, two glasses of sangria, and a glass of champagne, I ordered way too much stuff, but got it for a STEAL as the hostess. Shut your traps, haters! When my order arrives, I'll post a photo.
Sometime in the past year, I relented, and now I am a shop-at-home-party slut. Bags? Sure, I'm there! Jewelry? Yes, I'd love to host a party! I have a problem. I must stop.
This weekend, I co-hosted a lia sophia jewelry party with a friend (at her house, because the Batcave is a pit of dispair). After hours of playing with sparkly things, two glasses of sangria, and a glass of champagne, I ordered way too much stuff, but got it for a STEAL as the hostess. Shut your traps, haters! When my order arrives, I'll post a photo.
Thursday, March 1, 2012
Runaway Dog!
The Dynamic Duo have invented a new game they love to play more than anything else: Runaway Dog. This consists of screaming in the dogs' faces and/or chasing after them with a wiffle bat. There is lots of shrieking, laughter, screaming, running, and stampeding involved. I'm not sure that there is a goal, aside from creating a runaway dog.
You see where this is going, right? It's only a matter of time until someone gets bit. We have warned them of this consequence, forbidden the game, done our best to distance the children from the dogs, and told Batman and Robin that if they get bit it is their own fault. Finally, we told them that there would be shots. Lots and lots of shots involved if they got bit by a dog. That's the only thing that made an impression on them.
The other night, as we were reading Where the Wild Things Are, we noticed something. Max plays Runaway Dog when he is creating mischief of one kind or another. Let the wild rumpus begin!
You see where this is going, right? It's only a matter of time until someone gets bit. We have warned them of this consequence, forbidden the game, done our best to distance the children from the dogs, and told Batman and Robin that if they get bit it is their own fault. Finally, we told them that there would be shots. Lots and lots of shots involved if they got bit by a dog. That's the only thing that made an impression on them.
The other night, as we were reading Where the Wild Things Are, we noticed something. Max plays Runaway Dog when he is creating mischief of one kind or another. Let the wild rumpus begin!
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