Tuesday, November 26, 2013

What We Have Here is a Failure to Communicate

What I said: "Pick up this mess."

What was heard (I'm guessing): "Put as many toys in this stool as is humanly possible.  Use Crisco or WD-40 if you have to, but just keep shoving them in.  Once you have run out of room, just walk away. It's totally cool if there's other stuff still on the floor or if the cabinets are open with shit hanging out. And no worries if the top doesn't fit on because remember, the number one objective here is to get as many toys per cubic inch as is possible in this stool.  We're really wanting to test the limits of this piece of furniture so give it all you've got."

If we're going with interpretation B, they nailed it.  Mission accomplished.

Thursday, November 21, 2013

The Importance of Selfies

It’s a proud day in our household.

My son took his first selfie.

It’s milestone every parent dreams off.  The day your child puts away childish things to say, “Look at me.  Look at me.  Look! Do you like it?  Like my picture!”  A great selfie is the mark of a great man.

Just look at some of the great men and women that got their start with a great selfie.  Anthony Weiner for instance.  That guy…well, he went on to not be mayor of New York.  But his penis? Everyone knows that guy.  I hear it’s LinkedIn profile is getting all sorts of attention.

Just think about some of our historical figures.  Where would they have gone with a good selfie?  How much more successful would they have been?  William Henry Harrison was president for all of 30 days and no one remembers him, but 30 days is plenty of time for a great selfie.  If he had had access to a smartphone maybe instead of one of the 10 worst presidents we would know him as America’s Duckface.  Sadly, the chance at that title has passed and been snatched up by Kim Kardashian leaving us wondering what could have been.

But don’t take my word for how important the selfie is.  Take Oxford’s word.  Oxford dictionary that is.  The Oxford dictionary, published by Oxford University, alma mater of Stephen Hawking, has named “selfie” word of the year.  If Oxford dictionary says it’s important, it must be important.  That and they’re British so you know it’s legit.

So there’s no need for floccinaucinihilipilification.  Because the very important dictionary that taught me the word floccinaucinihilipilification has deemed the selfie important.  Also recently added to the dictionary (online at least)? Twerk.  I will point out that Miley Cyrus, the queen of twerking, is worth $150 million dollars, so yeah…Oxford dictionary’s track record of calling important words is pretty solid.

But listen, I can’t stay here and confabulate with you anymore.  I’ve got to search for the great selfies of Justin Bieber to show my son as inspiration.  Cause that kid has taken his first step towards greatness and I’ll be damned if he ends up the next William Henry Harrison.

Monday, November 18, 2013

Things My Dog Would Tweet

Peed on that. #mine

What they feedin’ you, bro? #highfiberdietsucks #turds

Hey @NeighborDog, I humped your mother once.  #whosyourdaddy

Bitches be crazy.  Seriously, bitch just tried to eat my face. #craycray

Just livin’ the dream, lickin my balls #hahadon’thaveballs

Fuck you @Squirrel.

Walk fast or go home. #humanproblems

50 Shades of Grey?  Yes please.  #schnauzerbitches

@Humans I'll let you clip my toenails when you start letting me pluck your eyebrows.  Didn't think so.

Stole a waffle off the counter. #YOLO

Real dogs don't wear sweaters.

Ball so hard muhfuckas wanna throw to me.

Almost puked on the tile, but made it to the carpet just in time. #winning

@Humans You don't understand why I don't want to jump in the car? Maybe it has something to do with that time I came home without balls.

Who let the dogs out? No one. #gottapee

@NeighborDog Pissed on your tennis ball.  Enjoy.

Pour one out for our homies in cones.

Rawhide is not a substitute for love. #humanproblems

@FedExGuy Why'd you run?  Leave your testicles in the truck?  Let's open the door next time and see what happens.

@FedExGuy I realize you may have seen me poop on the floor while barking just now.  Don't let it fool you.  I will still fuck you up. #turdsoffury

Telling me to be nice to visitors then getting mad when I put a nose in their crotch. #petpeeve

WARNING! Do not eat the cheese! Humans are putting shit in the cheese!

Just watched #LadyandTheTramp.  I’d hit that.

Just turned 7, but I feel 49.  I dunno, old soul I guess.

Just watched the human inhale 10 fun sized Snickers.  Starting to think that whole chocolate is lethal thing is a scam.

@Humans It was a fart, not sarin gas.  Let's keep things in perspective.

RT Sniff my ass.  I’ll sniff back.

Friday, November 15, 2013

Photo Friday: Pumpkins make nice hats

Guest Post from Ann

When you have a toddler in a "I will not be contained" phase, sometimes suggesting that small objects are hats will slow her down enough to give you time to get a photo. Other times it won't, but at least you tried.

Wednesday, November 13, 2013

I Work Myself Too Hard

That time between 3:00 and 3:45 is a pleasant time of the day.  It’s pick-up time at Hudson’s school.  I usually get there early so I can be one of the first cars, put it in park and read a book.  Sometimes I sit and listen to NPR and catch up on Norwegian indie rock or the latest research into the mating habits of dung beetles. Hudson is usually in a good mood when I pick him up and excitedly tells me about his day.  This day however he looked angry.

He got in the car with a scowl on his face.  “You forgot something,” he told me.

I racked my brain trying to remember every note from school, every newsletter, every e-mail, voice message, smoke signal, and telegram.  There are so many!  Of course I would eventually forget something!  What was it?  Did I forget to go to a party?  Money for the book fair?  Field trip?  Lunch?  Oh my god, did I send him to school without lunch?!

“You forgot my peanut butter and jelly sandwich,” he said with eyes boring straight into my skull, “You said you would fix me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich today.”

I felt bad, but relaxed a little.  It’s not like I sent him to school without underwear.

“I’m sorry, buddy.  You’re right.  I forgot, but I’ll fix it tomorrow.”

He softened a little and said, “Why do you do so much stuff while I’m at school?  I think that’s why you keep forgetting things.”  Or in other words, “You’re working yourself too hard.  Why don’t you just focus on me and my needs?”

He’s got a point.  If I just stopped worrying about doing laundry I could finally remember that Chickadee’s are not a suitable substitute for Annie’s Cheddar Bunnies.  And if I could stop paying bills I would finally remember to sew that minuscule hole in his blanket that I can’t see but am told will cause his blanket to fall apart any day now.

So if you come over to visit, I’m sorry for the shitty state of my house.  I stopped cleaning for the sake of my son.  Oh and if you do come over, text me first.  I don’t want you to interrupt me during my yoga session where I focus my third eye on remembering that watermelon is the only acceptable toothpaste flavor.

Monday, November 11, 2013

Sophia Ain't No Jenny From The Block

My daughter loves Sophia the First.  It’s not her favorite cartoon and will still get beat out my Dora or Team Umizoomi, but it’s definitely in the top ten.  It’s one of my least favorites.  As I was listening the theme song I realized why.  Sophia will never be a Jenny from the Block.

Hear me out.  Jennifer Lopez wrote Jenny from the Block to prove that fame and money hadn’t changed her.  Then there’s Sophia.  First song after becoming a “princess overnight” and she’s singing about going to a school “that’s just for royalty.”  Way to rub it in Sophia.  Classy.

First of all, what’s up with the ball gown?  Do you ever take that damn thing off? Even Jenny will throw on a pair of jeans every now and again.  I’m sure when people comment on it, you give ‘em a “What?  This old thing?”  At least you can wear it with a pair on Chuck Taylors or something to prove that underneath all that tulle you’re still just a girl from down in the village.

Speaking of…let me talk to you for a moment, girls from the village.  Give up on her.  Sophia will never be the same.  Sure she’ll promise to come visit, but she’ll be in that damn ballgown talking about all her royal friends and how they went on cool vacations while she’s stuck here, no offense.  She’ll suggest you go get a bite to eat at the ole Tavern and then she’ll complain about the food not being gluten-free or non-GMO or about the boar not being free-range boar.

Eventually, she’ll slowly lose contact.  She might send a Tweet every now and again #BFF #village, but then you’ll see the “Girls who wear last season’s ball gowns #lame” Tweet and it’ll never be the same.  She might resurface when she’s a teen because she had a fight with her parents and is seeking out her roots, but really it will be more about showing off her BMW carriage.  When she sees your pre-owned carriage that you inherited from your older sister she’ll make some snide comment about how it must be nice not to worry about getting scratches on it.  Then she’ll speed back to the castle blaring Miley Cyrus on her top of the line sound system and beg for her parents’ forgiveness, promising never to run off to “the hood” again.

So don’t be fooled by the rock that she got.  Cause her rock lets her talk to animals and you just can’t compete with that.


Wednesday, November 6, 2013

Teaching Moment Gone Wrong

Hudson is a sensitive soul.  He gets it from me.  It’s what makes him kind and compassionate.  He gets that from me too.  I’m pretty awesome like that. Compassionately awesome of course.  Both of us would give you the shirts off our backs.  Then we would wonder why you were laughing at us.  It would probably have something to do with us not wearing a shirt or maybe you thought our shirt was funny looking, but what kind of asshole are you?  We just gave you the shirt off our back and you’re laughing!  Alright, so we have a tendency to over-analyze everything.  It’s the dark side of that sensitive trait and it can suck the confidence right out of you.  Hudson, just like I did at his age, tends to think that people are constantly laughing at him or making fun of him even if they’re not.

I’ve been trying my hardest to talk through things with him when this happens and give him some perspective.  The perfect teaching moment came during bath time the other night.  Hudson and Kenzie had been playing together pretty well in the tub when Kenzie started laughing.

“Momma, Kenzie’s laughing at me!” he said crying.  Kenzie laughs at things all the time for no apparent reason.  I thought he was probably jumping to conclusions.  I wanted to break him of that habit.

“Hudson, how do you know that she’s laughing at you?  Did you ask her?”
“So how do you know? Kenzie, what are you laughing at?”

Well, shit.  I’m sure another teaching moment will come again soon.

Tuesday, November 5, 2013

It's Time to Grow Up

It seems like debate these days has been reduced to witty one-liners.  A shared meme had taken the place of thoughtful comments.  Never mind if it’s true.  Debate comes in the form of 140 characters or less.  Less thought, less respect, less truth.

Bring up any hot button topic and you can be assured that it can be reduced to point of absurdity.  Pro-choicers are for baby killing.  Pro-lifers only want to take away rights of women.  Pro-gunners are right-wing nut jobs.  Gun control proponents want to take everyone’s guns away.

It’s time we all cut the crap.

As children, we see the world in black and white, in good and evil.  Then we grow up and we realize that the world is more complex than that.  We realize that people don’t fit into our neat boxes.   I am not denying that there are people in the extremes.  I am saying that doesn’t describe most people.   I am pro-choice.  I respect my friends that disagree with me enough to admit they are not motivated by a desire to simply take away rights of women.  What we have is a fundamental disagreement about the definition of life.  I expect this same kind of respect in return to not reduce my views to some over-simplified motive.

That doesn’t mean we can’t disagree.  It doesn’t mean that we can’t disagree passionately.  It does mean that in order to have a true debate, a debate that can go somewhere, that can end in compromise, it must start on a foundation of truth.  It means that we have to be willing to listen, to think, and to discuss.  It is what must be done if we ever want change.

If we can't at the very least be honest about each other's motives, we will never be able to have productive conversation.  You can't compromise with someone you don't trust and without compromise we're all stuck.

We have to stop being afraid to challenge our preconceived ideas.  If you challenge your ideas every now and again, you will either find yourself stronger in your convictions or you change them based on facts.  Neither is a bad thing.  It is what rational people do.

We have mistaken passion for the person that can yell the loudest.  We have mistaken passion for the person who can rile the most feathers.  Strength and conviction has become synonymous with winning at all costs and refusing to listen. That is how we dealt with conflict as children.  Well, it’s time to grow up.

It is time that the adults in the room take back the debate.