theclumsyredhead.com

To all the stay-at-home moms who may sometimes feel guilty for not “earning a living”:

Let's be honest, Alice did all the work.

What you do is invaluable. You may not be receiving a check you can cash, but your work will pay off one day when you least expect it. (Not to mention you’re saving your family approximately $150 a week per child in day-care expenses. That’s over $15,000 a year for two kids.)

You may long for a staff meeting in lieu of changing a poopy diaper sometimes and that’s okay. But when your children are grown and off creating fabulous lives for themselves, you have the satisfaction of knowing that you laid the foundation for their self-confidence. When they are in loving, committed relationships with people they trust and feel secure in who they are and what they want out of life, you will know it’s because of you. You’ll know that all the heartache you felt over the years was worth it, that you made a difference in someone’s life, and in turn, made the world a better place. You knew when to hold that child close and when it was time to let them go. And hopefully they’ll remember all that when you’re the one wearing diapers.

For all the moms who work 40 hours a week and have to send their kids to day-care:

Super hip, super cool Mrs. Huxtable.

Please don’t feel guilty. Your family depends on you and your children love you and won’t hate you for missing out on anything – that’s all in your head. You’re the only mom they know and the only mom they’ll ever have. Cherish the time you spend with them and don’t waste it being bitter about the things you can’t do. No $6 an hour sitter can replace the love you lavish on your children when you’re home – even when you’re exhausted because your idiot boss needs you to put meetings on his calendar because he hasn’t taken the time to learn how to do it himself. Take a deep breath and remember, it’s not easy and you’re doing the best you can.  They will appreciate all you’ve sacrificed in order to provide them with a better life. Just call in sick every once in awhile and take your kids to the zoo.

For all the moms who pay an extra 50¢ for character inspired macaroni and cheese and fruit snacks:

It seems like there's less in these than the regular stuff.

You’ll buy generic razors for yourself to make up for it, because you know your kids will eat an entire bowl of Spongebob or Spiderman pasta without complaining that it’s boring or gross. And the pricey Dora fruit snacks? Well, processed fruit just doesn’t taste right to a toddler if it’s not shaped like the head of a cartoon character. That extra money you spend for them is being put to good use; so what if you used a whole roll of toilet paper on one shin?

For all the moms who unload the dishwasher at 10 o’clock at night:

Who needs 8 hours of sleep? Not you!

You may not have dirtied all those dishes, (well, actually, you made dinner so technically, you did dirty some of them), but you put every last one in that dishwasher, put in the soap and turned it on. But as you were cleaning up toys, you found a sippy cup full of milk stuck under the couch and rushed it in to the kitchen to throw it in the dishwasher before the rinse cycle completed to make sure your little one had his favorite cup at breakfast. You avoided a meltdown and salmonella at the same time. I salute you for that.

For all the moms whose hair is slapped back in a ponytail and whose lips haven’t seen lipstick in over 5 years:

Because a ponytail is better than bed head.

You know it’s more important to brush your daughter’s hair and put in ribbons or barrettes that match her dress so she’ll feel like the pretty princess she is. It’s time to let her shine. We can see how pretty you once were just by looking at her. We know how you used to take care of yourself – we all did. Using hair products or even a brush has become a thing of the past.  Foundation? Shimmery lip gloss? Mascara?  Who has the time? Just think of all the money you’re saving. Money you can now spend on headbands and bows and Hello Kitty lip smacker that your four year-old HAS to have. Besides, it’s what’s on the inside that counts, right? Keep telling yourself that. You’ll believe it one day. I know I will.

And finally:

To all the moms who vacuum six times before noon, do five loads of laundry, make breakfast, lunch and dinner, change diapers, go to the store, pay bills, clean your kids’ rooms (twice), get snacks for the kids, play outside, take their child to the doctor, color, make an appointment with the finance guy, make play-doh aliens, tie shoelaces over and over, help their child write letters and/or numbers, get interrupted during their one bathroom break of the day to find the red block, pick up the dry cleaning, dry tears over a scraped finger/knee/arm/leg, search the entire house to find a favorite lost truck,  arrange play dates for their kids even when they don’t like the parent they then have to sit and chat with, make three dozen cupcakes for their child’s bake sale that they just found out about (it’s tomorrow!), and then have to answer a husband who asks, “You didn’t iron my shirt for tomorrow?”

So I was on Twitter last night and was surprised to read that one of my favorite bloggers is experiencing the same misfortune as me: nothing to blog about. Quite a pickle. Do I ramble on with nothing interesting to say, just to have a post out there? Do I make my two readers wait another couple of days so that they will feel truly rewarded when they read a really phenomenal post during the few free minutes they have? I don’t have an answer. But I have a couple of sweet little pictures of my babies to share. Enjoy.

Pillow fort madness!

Starting their own blogs. They're much more clever than I.

No More Potty Breaks

As every parent knows, you really can’t leave your little ones alone for more than a minute. I made the unfortunate mistake of emptying my bladder this morning, thus leaving my children alone for that one, crucial minute. In that time, my son had become parched, wandered into the kids’ bathroom, found a plastic tea cup that we use as a bathtub toy, dipped it into the toilet and took a nice big swig.

Tess burst into my bathroom and yelled, “Jack’s drinking from the toilet, just like a dog!” and ran out. So, with my pants almost up to my waist, belt jingling,  I rushed to the bathroom just as Jack was going back for seconds. I screamed “NO!” which scared him into dropping the cup and he screamed back at me “NO!”  Let me tell you, there is not enough toothpaste in the world to make a mom feel better about her child not having toilet germs in her toddler’s mouth. I still gag a little bit when I think about it. I think he’s okay, but I’ll be brushing his teeth for the 46th time when he wakes up from his nap.

Seriously, I was gone for less than a minute.

This is a good lumberjack (and he's okay)!

Lower My . . . what the. . . ?

Have you seen the pop-up ads for lower my bills dot com (I’m not giving them free click-throughs)? The bold headline screams to you that “Refi rates are at the lowest they’ve ever been!”  or something exciting like that. But have you noticed the pictures they use? One looks like a lumberjack rapist and the other is an old man who looks like he’s trying to figure out who the hell that person is that’s standing in front of him and why they’re trying to steal his soul with that magic light box.

I know that advertisements aren’t cheap, but really, there are a lot of sites out there that offer stock photography that wasn’t taken in a prison or by someone who likes to sneak up on dementia patients in a nursing home. Am I, your audience, supposed to relate to these people? Because all I’m wondering is if either of these people even lives in a house. I’m guessing Lumberjack is serving 5-10 in Chino and I think it’s safe to say the old man doesn’t even know what town he’s in. (I am not making fun of the elderly, I’m making fun of the picture, so back off.) It doesn’t create enough curiosity for me to click on your ad. It makes me feel sad and dirty.

Let’s spend the extra $8 and buy a picture that has someone who looks like they haven’t committed a felony recently and make sure they’re under the age of say, 90.

I know everyone uses this picture. I'm okay with that.

Dedicated to the Whore Who Stole My Shoes

My husband ordered something from zappos.com and it was delivered to our old address (we haven’t lived there in over a year). So, I thought I would zip on over there to see if I could get it from the “new” owners.  It was almost 10 o’clock in the morning, so I assumed if anyone was home, they would be up, right? I mean, I’m up, so you should be too.

I parked the car and ran up to the door – I saw the flower pots I left were still there and that they really needed to trim the bushes under the window, but whatever. I rang the doorbell. I heard a dog bark. I heard someone whisper-yell “shut up!” I looked through the window next to the door – I saw a woman poke her head around the corner of the staircase. I rang the bell again. I thought, I know you’re there – I used to do that same move, lady.

She finally threw the door open and in a very unfriendly tone said, “Yeah?” I replied, “Hi there, sorry to bother you, but did you get a package delivered here yesterday by chance?” I gave her my nicest fake smile.  “Uh, yeah, my husband gave it to the neighbor.” I said, “He. . . gave it to a neighbor? Do you know which one?”  “NO!” and she slammed the door in my face.

Can you guess what I thought at that moment? I bet you can. You would have thought it too.

Who slams a door in the face of someone who is inquiring about a package that they’re missing? I mean, I know 10 a.m. is early and all, but you could have just NOT gotten out of bed and waited until you heard me drive away if you didn’t want to deal with the whole ‘open the door and use my words’ thing. It’s obviously mine – it’s not a new scam – there’s no gang of ordinary looking women wandering around neighborhoods ringing doorbells and asking if a package was delivered to you by mistake. And really, you don’t know who your husband gave it to? When he said, “Hey we got this package and it doesn’t have our names on it” did he put a blindfold on you and spin you around so you wouldn’t see which neighbor he was giving it to? Weren’t you curious as to whom he gave it to you and why?

And who gives a package obviously sent to your house in error to their neighbor? “Hey, Phil. Say, I got this package addressed to somebody else, do you want it or anything? I thought it would be easier to wait until you got home, walk all the way over here – of course I didn’t tell the wife where I was going – and ask you if you wanted a package that isn’t mine. I don’t have enough time to call the toll-free number right here on the address label.”

Isn’t tampering with mail a federal offense? Can I have them arrested?

By the way, zappos resent the package – overnight, actually – at no charge. It was a new pair of Converse sneakers my husband bought for me. Awww. . . had I known that before I went to the old place, I would have made sure I had it in my possession before I left.

Now I don’t feel so bad about all the crap we shoved under the back deck before we moved.