I like compliments as much as the next girl. I have a small collection of favorites that I keep filed away in my brain under "Absolutely True Things That People Finally Realized About Me". When I'm feeling low, it helps to remember those words. One of my top 3 came from a friend during my college years. Admittedly, it's one of those statements that could as easily be an insult as a compliment. But since I was hot in college, I'm pretty sure it was legit. Check it out:
As is my wont, I was obsessing about my too-short haircut when a very perceptive friend with an eye for beauty said, "With a face like that, it doesn't matter what your hair looks like." See what I mean? It's possible she meant, "Girl, yo' face is so butt-ugly that your hair is the last thing you need to be worried about." But I like to think she meant, "Vision o' beauty before me, doubteth not thy loveliness, for thy face is the fairest in the land and thy hair, the perfect frame."
Yeah.
Being recognized is always nice. Like recently when my mom told me that my weight loss makes my boobs look bigger. What a dear! So imagine my delight when I discovered that one of my favorite humor bloggers mentioned little ol' me on her blog! Total compliment.
Although I'm all about shameless self-promotion here at Yeah, I said it., it's time to share the spotlight. And the love.
1. Oh Honestly, Erin cracks me up every time. Every single ever-lovin' time, y'all! As you know by now, I think sarcasm is a virtue, which means Erin is pretty much a saint. And her son is God. At least on Halloween.
2. You Know What Mama is my favorite redheaded blogger. Her cool factor is multiplied by 4 because her whole family has red hair. (I'm a bit of a gingerophile. But not in a creepy way. For the most part...) She's an excellent writer and a great satirist. I love how real she is.
Now I'm not a big one for politics. (I know, I know...) But this here's funny. If political discourse was always this entertaining, I might just give a crap. She should write a book!
3. Grumpy Grateful Mom's blog has it all. Self-deprecation, kid chaos, gratitude, and my personal fave, grumpiness. She's all about sharing her struggles in a lighthearted way. I'd totally be her friend in real life.
Who's your favorite funny blogger (besides moi, of course!)?
February 14, 2012
February 10, 2012
Make candy, not war
Tonight my guys went to an indoor Airsoft playing field for some manly time. Nature Boy really wants to be all, "Yay! Let's go shoot people!" But really he's more like, "Yeah, okay, we'll go shoot people. But more importantly, can I get a candy bar at the concession stand?"
See, my husband is the one who's really into Airsoft. As a matter of fact, he loves all things war. (Well, except for the whole people dying thing.) He will actually watch those boring war documentaries on PBS. Our Netflix instant queue is all cluttered with war movies. (Which can be kind of annoying to wade through when I want to watch some quality television. Like Desperate Housewives.) And I think he's still secretly grieving the fact that Nature Boy isn't into G.I. Joe anymore.
The word on the street is that tonight's battle was a fierce one. A little bird told me that Tree Guy, my normally G-rated mate, was cussing like a mofo. Because pretend war is serious, y'all.
Yes. Fake war brings out the mutha%$*$%#@ SOULJA in my man. As is evidenced by the following true story.
Random strangers are teamed up for battle at these indoor places. A kid on my guys' team decided that Nature Boy looked like a good target for bullying. (Wrong!) He got all pushy and bossy and up in Nature Boy's bidness a few times. When Nature Boy wouldn't do what he told him to, he pointed his fake gun at Nature Boy's chest and said, "You SURE you're not gonna do what I say?" And Nature Boy pointed his fake gun at Bullyboy's head and said in his best Clint Eastwood voice, "Yep." I'm sure it was as gangsta as it gets out here in the 'burbs.
Later Bullyboy got all up in Nature Boy's grill again, this time saying, "You got a problem with me?!" Nature Boy said no. Bullyboy got all hovery and threatening and said, "You SURE you ain't got a problem with me?!"
What he didn't count on is thatRambo Nature Boy's dad was right behind him in line.*
*Okay, so Tree Guy didn't actually point his fake gun at Bullyboy. What actually went down is that when Tree Guy saw what was going on, he got in the kid's face and said, "Do YOU have a problem with ME?!" Bullyboy was all, "No! No, I don't have a problem!" And Tree Guy said, "Then leave him alone!"
Nice. (Note to self: My husband is hot.)
But Nature Boy's not gonna let his dad take all the credit! He told me it's a good thing Tree Guy stepped in when he did. Because Bullyboy was about to be introduced to Nature Boy's fists o' fury. And y'all know it wouldn't have been the first time.
As is proper, Nature Boy thanked his dad...for rescuing the bully from a beatdown, that is.
I just don't know where he gets his temper...
See, my husband is the one who's really into Airsoft. As a matter of fact, he loves all things war. (Well, except for the whole people dying thing.) He will actually watch those boring war documentaries on PBS. Our Netflix instant queue is all cluttered with war movies. (Which can be kind of annoying to wade through when I want to watch some quality television. Like Desperate Housewives.) And I think he's still secretly grieving the fact that Nature Boy isn't into G.I. Joe anymore.
The word on the street is that tonight's battle was a fierce one. A little bird told me that Tree Guy, my normally G-rated mate, was cussing like a mofo. Because pretend war is serious, y'all.
Yes. Fake war brings out the mutha%$*$%#@ SOULJA in my man. As is evidenced by the following true story.
Random strangers are teamed up for battle at these indoor places. A kid on my guys' team decided that Nature Boy looked like a good target for bullying. (Wrong!) He got all pushy and bossy and up in Nature Boy's bidness a few times. When Nature Boy wouldn't do what he told him to, he pointed his fake gun at Nature Boy's chest and said, "You SURE you're not gonna do what I say?" And Nature Boy pointed his fake gun at Bullyboy's head and said in his best Clint Eastwood voice, "Yep." I'm sure it was as gangsta as it gets out here in the 'burbs.
Later Bullyboy got all up in Nature Boy's grill again, this time saying, "You got a problem with me?!" Nature Boy said no. Bullyboy got all hovery and threatening and said, "You SURE you ain't got a problem with me?!"
What he didn't count on is that
*Okay, so Tree Guy didn't actually point his fake gun at Bullyboy. What actually went down is that when Tree Guy saw what was going on, he got in the kid's face and said, "Do YOU have a problem with ME?!" Bullyboy was all, "No! No, I don't have a problem!" And Tree Guy said, "Then leave him alone!"
Nice. (Note to self: My husband is hot.)
But Nature Boy's not gonna let his dad take all the credit! He told me it's a good thing Tree Guy stepped in when he did. Because Bullyboy was about to be introduced to Nature Boy's fists o' fury. And y'all know it wouldn't have been the first time.
As is proper, Nature Boy thanked his dad...for rescuing the bully from a beatdown, that is.
I just don't know where he gets his temper...
February 07, 2012
Motherhood: an adventure in idiocy
What fun would parenthood be if not for all our ineptitude and foibles? I don't know about you, but I make mistakes all the time.
Some of them were garden variety new parent gaffes:
1. not realizing that boy babies kamikaze pee when their diapers are removed (read: my newborn peed on his own head)
2. the abrupt formula change to "Good" Start (read: a black and grey storm of poo all over my lap)
3. nipping Nature Toddler's ear while giving him a home haircut (read: haircut avoidance forevermore)
Some of them were no-excuses plain stupidity on my part:
1. letting my 6-year-old be a Big Boy and hold the gas pump (read: gas in the eye = an ER visit)
2. searching for a roly-poly sippy cup in the car while driving--in a construction zone (read: the road crew had one less orange and white construction sign and my car had one less side mirror)
3. checking out the evenness of my eyebrows whilst driving with my preschooler in the backseat (read: street sweepers are like TANKS, y'all)
My parenting mistakes are varied, but they share one thing. They all happened because I have no idea what I'm doing.
I'm making this parenting thing up as I go along. And that's because the closest thing I can find to a parenting expert whose philosophy meshes with mine is Ms. Frizzle. And she is a CARTOON.
My particular maternal screw-ups change with each developmental stage. Which happily means that I am no longer making poor feeding and diapering decisions. (Yea!) But it also means that I am now effing up in the areas of tween social skills and Preparing My Child for College and Therefore Life. (Boo!)
And you know, the social skills thing was inevitable. I mean, what business do I have teaching anybody how to get along with folks? It's hard to credibly teach your kid proper social etiquette and healthy conflict resolution when your own personal history involves getting the PoPo called on you in a senior living community and participating in a Shout Out at the Golden Corral.
But I can live with that. Because fortunately for Nature Boy, he's got his dad to teach him that stuff. Tree Guy likes people and can handle conflict without getting all red-faced and loud. He confidently deals with gun-toting rednecks who threaten to shoot him for cutting down their trees on a regular basis!
My particular parenting nemesis at this stage of development is in the education realm. Homeschool moms have the added blessing of getting to make up the education thing as we go along. (Huzzah!) And that's a huge responsibility.
We're dealing with some learning challenges at my house, and I have been at a loss for years. While practicing the art of self-flagellation, I ask myself: Will we ever master the math monster? How important is paper and pencil math in the age of calculators anyway? Are my slackadaisical* ways messing up my kid's chances for college? Am I even worthy enough to clean the chalkboards of real homeschool moms? (Okay, I was exaggerating with that last bit. Kind of.)
Homeschooling the traditional way is as exciting as toilet rings and pap smears to me. And Nature Boy agrees (with the exception of the whole pap smear thing). He's a round peg, which is wonderful. But college is a square hole, and he says he wants to go. Not for the sake of going to college, but rather because it's the ticket to the type of job he wants to have when he grows up (zookeeper).
So what's a neurotic homeschool mom to do?
Feel free to weigh in.
Unless you're all holier-than-thou and critical, in which case you should be forewarned that I am a sweaty fat chick on the edge.
_______________________________________________________
*Hey! I just made that up! I am hereby coining the word slackadaisical.
slackadaisical [ slàkə dáyzik'l ] (adj.)
First known use: 2012
A slang derivative of the words lackadaisical and slacker.
1. without interest or vigor, combined with an overall goal of doing as little as possible
2. lazy; unindustrious and unconcerned about being so
_______________________________________________________
There. You are witnessing history here, folks!
You're welcome.
Some of them were garden variety new parent gaffes:
1. not realizing that boy babies kamikaze pee when their diapers are removed (read: my newborn peed on his own head)
2. the abrupt formula change to "Good" Start (read: a black and grey storm of poo all over my lap)
3. nipping Nature Toddler's ear while giving him a home haircut (read: haircut avoidance forevermore)
Some of them were no-excuses plain stupidity on my part:
1. letting my 6-year-old be a Big Boy and hold the gas pump (read: gas in the eye = an ER visit)
2. searching for a roly-poly sippy cup in the car while driving--in a construction zone (read: the road crew had one less orange and white construction sign and my car had one less side mirror)
3. checking out the evenness of my eyebrows whilst driving with my preschooler in the backseat (read: street sweepers are like TANKS, y'all)
My parenting mistakes are varied, but they share one thing. They all happened because I have no idea what I'm doing.
I'm making this parenting thing up as I go along. And that's because the closest thing I can find to a parenting expert whose philosophy meshes with mine is Ms. Frizzle. And she is a CARTOON.
My particular maternal screw-ups change with each developmental stage. Which happily means that I am no longer making poor feeding and diapering decisions. (Yea!) But it also means that I am now effing up in the areas of tween social skills and Preparing My Child for College and Therefore Life. (Boo!)
And you know, the social skills thing was inevitable. I mean, what business do I have teaching anybody how to get along with folks? It's hard to credibly teach your kid proper social etiquette and healthy conflict resolution when your own personal history involves getting the PoPo called on you in a senior living community and participating in a Shout Out at the Golden Corral.
But I can live with that. Because fortunately for Nature Boy, he's got his dad to teach him that stuff. Tree Guy likes people and can handle conflict without getting all red-faced and loud. He confidently deals with gun-toting rednecks who threaten to shoot him for cutting down their trees on a regular basis!
My particular parenting nemesis at this stage of development is in the education realm. Homeschool moms have the added blessing of getting to make up the education thing as we go along. (Huzzah!) And that's a huge responsibility.
We're dealing with some learning challenges at my house, and I have been at a loss for years. While practicing the art of self-flagellation, I ask myself: Will we ever master the math monster? How important is paper and pencil math in the age of calculators anyway? Are my slackadaisical* ways messing up my kid's chances for college? Am I even worthy enough to clean the chalkboards of real homeschool moms? (Okay, I was exaggerating with that last bit. Kind of.)
Homeschooling the traditional way is as exciting as toilet rings and pap smears to me. And Nature Boy agrees (with the exception of the whole pap smear thing). He's a round peg, which is wonderful. But college is a square hole, and he says he wants to go. Not for the sake of going to college, but rather because it's the ticket to the type of job he wants to have when he grows up (zookeeper).
So what's a neurotic homeschool mom to do?
Feel free to weigh in.
Unless you're all holier-than-thou and critical, in which case you should be forewarned that I am a sweaty fat chick on the edge.
_______________________________________________________
*Hey! I just made that up! I am hereby coining the word slackadaisical.
slackadaisical [ slàkə dáyzik'l ] (adj.)
First known use: 2012
A slang derivative of the words lackadaisical and slacker.
1. without interest or vigor, combined with an overall goal of doing as little as possible
2. lazy; unindustrious and unconcerned about being so
_______________________________________________________
There. You are witnessing history here, folks!
You're welcome.
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