Blah, blah, blah

Lex was trying to teach me a song she learned.

She whispered in my ear (she's so shy about singing in front of us).

It went something like this (I can't remember all the words):

"There was a turkey strutting

In the barnyard all day long...

Blah Blah Blah"

When I asked her if that was what the turkey says, she said, "No I don't remember the rest of the words." Like mother, like daughter.



Remember the soy sauce? That I have yet to properly clean up? And still no one is convinced I am truly lazy. Maybe someone is.

Lexie's solution:

In her words (not ver batim--I don't remember them exactly, alas): It's a bridge so you don't step in it.

I bet Barbie's so happy that that's what we're using the canopy to her bed for.

By the way, Lexie's now a contributing editor to Bad Housekeeping.

And now I ask my question to the cosmos: Can that carpet get any nastier? I think not. Unless I get a dog. Oh the picture does not to the filth justice. I don't know why I feel so impelled to share that. So you feel better about yours? We still have plans to pull it up. I just don't know what to cut it with so we don't have to tear it out of the bedrooms and living room yet.

Now, do we like more condensed posts better, or looong, rambling, never-ending ones?

And, is it bad to get the same shoe in two different colors when I really should be buying Christmas presents for my kids and thinking about donating to one of the Christmas charities that is out of money and turning people away? Boy, do I feel selfish. But the mustard-yellow wedges for $14 at Target are so cute. And I like the tan, too.
I'll go find out how to donate now.

The Lowlights

Feeling so guilty I don't post more about my kids, which was the original reason I started the blog. But, it was one of those weeks.

You know, the ones.

Well, maybe not quite that bad, but let me recap the highlights, which are really just what I can remember. So sad. Dementia at 27.

What was I writing about? Oh yeah--

1. Made applesauce with my mom. Believe me, this was the tamest thing all week. We didn't have any catastrophic messes of, well, catastrophic proportions. But, my mom makes a mean sauce. It's so thick, we can eat it with a fork. Not kidding.

2. Tried for the third week to potty-train Mr Destructo. Let's just say he's taking his destructiveness to a whole new level. And I'm taking a break from potty-training. Also, I'd like to know, what is so wrong with wearing Sister's leftover Disney Princess Pull-ups? I keep telling him no on will see them! My kids think I'm so stupid. Sometimes I believe them.

3. S-man got hold of some special water. He came toddling up as I was trying to get Sister out the door for school in our mini-blizzard-here's-your-first-taste-of-Winter-you-sucker weather on Monday morning (of course it was on Monday), completely soaked down the front from his hair to his legs. He must have decided he was dirty, and thirsty, or wanting a swim. Yeah. Out of the bucket I was soaking Mr Destructo's poop-stained underwear (there was some Clorox 2 in it--so it was cleanish poop. I hope). If you're worried, he's still alive. I stopped worrying a long time ago with his older brother drinking sprinkler run off water fresh out of the gutter. Yum-O!

We like to live on the edge here.

4. We now have President Ostupida leading us for the nest 4-8 years. Wa-hoo for higher taxes I can. not. wait. Gee, wonder who I voted for? Don't bash me, I just don't want my elementary students learning about sex ed before they even know what sex is. They don't need to know that yet! Let children be CHILDREN, for crying in the cream. Which reminds me that investing in a cow might save us money. I have raised milk winos. Thank-you, Bill Cosby for teaching me about winos. Please don't ask me how to spell "winos" correctly. I don't think it's in the dictionary.

5. Today, when we finally started making a real attempt to clean up our leaves, we didn't make much progress. During our valiant attempt, our neighbor came over to chat and her dog came too and took a crapper in our yard. My daughter informed me of that one, but I forgot to discover the location from her and later stepped in it. In the shoes I work (once a week--I'm so hot-bodied) out in. That I wore in to the house. And picked up with my bare hand because I thought it was wet leaves (there were a couple on it) and mud, until I realized the mud smelled awfully bad for mud smell. Because it wasn't mud. Can I reiterate again? WASN'T MUD. With my bare hand. Wait, it gets better. I cleaned the bulk of the remainder with a paper towel and then got a handy Clorox wipe for the streaks. Oh help me, now I think about it, I think the paper towel with the hunk of doo-doo is in my kitchen garbage can! Still!!! And I'm so confused about my mysterious smell. Anyway, the husband had taken the outside can to the curb already, so after discovering this in my socks with the S-man following my every move, I left it on the step outside the door so it would be obvious, since our back door is completely surrounded by totally ignored, but not forgotten, drifts of leaves (that think they need to live in our house via our shoes. The cleaner ones). Well, apparently it was quite obvious. I got in the house a little ways, waiting for him to take his five minutes to get up one step with his 10-inch legs and when I turned around, guess who was wiping his nose with the doo-doo wipe? Worried again? He's still alive. This was one of the rare moments I was grossed out. We'll find out tomorrow if there are after-effects I'm sure.

Gah, takes Bad Housekeeping to a whole new level. And no, this year Lex will be disappointed in her wish from Santa for a real dog. She has specified. But you see the horrors that potentially await. For the love of cleanliness (which, believeitornot I really DO have), we are not getting a dog. Mr Destructo's underpants are enough.

6. Seems like there was something else I was going to try to be vainly hil-ar-ious about, but that's flown it's coop. I tell you. What wards off dementia? Help, they'll put Depends on me soon and take away my car keys! Who will drive to soccer then? Not that we're playing much soccer at the moment, but we have to do it again in the spring. And gee, I'm so excited to spend another six weeks fruitlessly convincing my daughter to go play. I'm thinking no soccer next season. We're just not athletic. Hello piano lessons.

7. Oh! How could I forget this? My friend who plays a princess in an amusement park specializing in princesses and who has been dating some boy for like, forever, is finally engaged!!!! Finally. I urged her to give the juicy details. And she better show her ring. Actually on her finger. Or I won'tbelive it really happened when I wake up in the morning. Or I'll think it's a product of my dementia.

Bad Housekeeping Tip #1

How to Have a Pungent House With

A Mysterious Odor

The first (and maybe only due to lazy editing and contributing) article to Bad Housekeeping.

Be it ever-so-helpful.

40 ways to make your house extra smelly.

The condensed list.

1. Be relatively poor by North American standards.

2. Buy an older (I don't want it to feel bad by calling it old) house.

3. Make doubly sure the previous owner had dogs.

4. That peed on the low-quality carpet she put in.

5. Check to see that said older house has a crawl space that wafts. Absolutely essential.

6. Be relatively poor.

7. Don't get the carpets cleaned.

8. DON'T clean them YOURSELF. Hello? Who are you? This is Bad Housekeeping.

9. Have children. Also essential. The more the better. Or worser. Whatever. You especially need the kind that spill entire ding-dang water bottles on the carpet once a week. To meet their quota.

10. Try the let's-just-put-panties-on-her potty training method.

11. Fail at the let's-just-put-panties-on-her potty training method.

12. Let your child pee several times on the low-quality carpet. Hope the wood underneath is surviving all the puddles.

13. Clean infrequently.

14. Do NOT buy air fresheners. Duh.

15. Don't change poopy diapers right away. Let them sit at least one hour. Two is better. The odor needs layers.

16. Have a leaky dishwasher.

17. MOLD? Bring it on.

18. Let linoleum around dishwasher swell and change color.

19. Cross fingers and hope it's not molding.

20. Don't bother checking.

21. Be relatively poor.

22. Buy a new dishwasher after a few months. You know, in February. Thank-you IRS.

23. Discover how bad the mold really is when pulling the old dishwasher out.

24. Enough with the dishwasher already.

25. Have a mysterious odor hit you in the face every time you walk through the back door into the kitchen.

26. Wonder if it's from the floor.

27. Keep windows open all day and part of the night whenever possible.

28. Let odor pervade.

29. Try to identify odor.

30. Fail to identify odor.

31. Get air ducts and furnace cleaned out and sanitized for rip-off prices. (For locals, do NOT call 1-800-AIR-DUCT, call me and I'll give you a better guy I should have gone through!!)

32. Smell new mysterious odor once furnace comes on several months later. Curse and mutter and grhh under breath constantly. Burns calories. Sort of.

33. Wonder how to make 1-800-AIR-DUCT come back and do. it. again. until it's done. right. Losers.

34. Succumb to air fresheners and scented candles as a LAST resort.

35. Only to have mystery odor return once Glade's through and candles are blown out.

36. Or to have odor linger under air freshener so you smell both at once. (Remember--you need layers.)

37. Consider letting burglars have free reign at night just to keep windows open 24/7.

38. Start to hate odor. Like, with a vengeance.

39. Start to hate house that's too small anyway for your budding (and promising!) rat-packing career.

40. Be relatively poor.

yeck

Nothing kills the desire to use a pan faster than when you pull it out and it has a spiderweb,

with the creator still on it.

Bonus points for being a bad housekeeper.

Maybe I'll start a new magazine, call it Bad Housekeeping.