Midwestern Mommy

Recently Kristin’s boys were talking about the phrases she uses most often — so often they’d probably end up on her tombstone. And then she asked her readers, “what phrases will be on your tombstone?”

Here are some of mine:

“Are you wearing underwear? Because we can’t go to grandma’s unless you’re wearing underwear.” (The boy likes to go “commando” and that really freaks out my mom.)

“No being bossy. That’s MY job.”

“Get your finger out of your nose.”

“Dude. Stop giving yourself a wedgie.” (Really, what is WITH that?)

What phrases are you known for by friends and family? What will be on your tombstone?

See this? This, my friends, is more than a simple squirrel feeder.  Because the pup loves to chase squirrels, this is what we call an “Abbeydog Exerciser2000″.

But its not just an Abbeydog Exerciser.  Since we love to watch Abbey chase after those squirrels, (Sometimes you can see the “Oh Shit!” look in their eyes.) we also consider this product a “home entertainment system”. Who needs cable when you’ve got something like this to watch? 

But its not just a dog exerciser/entertainment center. Can you see the little bungee? When the squirrel jumps on the chunk, it bounces! Add in a chasing dog and any squirrel can experience alittle Indiana Jones action for him/herself! Its like a thrilling-yet-tastey-yet bouncy adventure!

*Since Abbeydog is slowing down and she has to climb a steep hill to get to those squirrels, her likelihood of capturing one is nil. I can confidently say no squirrels will be harmed. Tho, if the little critters were wearing pants, there’d be a high probability of them wetting themselves. But then again, dignity is a small price to pay for some choice sunflower seeds or kernels of corn when you’re a squirrel.

Once upon a time, many years ago, there lived a sweet little pup by the name of Abbey. Abbey was a needy little creature of almost nine months. Being that her daddy traveled quite a bit, Abbey would follow him all over the house whenever he was home.

 Earlier on a fateful Saturday, unbeknown to Abbey, her daddy had eaten White Castle on the sly. She had no idea that White Castle + human alpha male = stink of epic proportion. (It was so bad, he was banned from eating the greasy yummies unless he was out of town.) A few hours after his feast, when the daddy felt the urge to “go”, he went to the bathroom.

Needy pup followed only to get the door closed in her face. She whined a bit. Her dad finally relented and let her in. She didn’t realize he’d done so while laughing evilly.

Dogs have an acute sense of smell, yes? 

After a few minutes, the odor got to be too much for the poor pup. At first she started to whine softly. Then she began to paw at the door in desperation. She wanted out. She could take no more! She whined louder. She scratched at the door with more fervor.

 The alpha male laughed manically.

 Just when the poor pup thought she could take no more, he flushed, washed, then let her out of her hell. She shot out the door as if her tail was on fire. She didn’t go near him the rest of the day.

Abbey learned a painful lesson. And to this day, she won’t go into a bathroom with her daddy.

I’m pretty sure that if Abbey could talk she’d tell you herself that being a homeless itty bitty puppy with worms (before we adopted her) was far easier than being stuck in that bathroom with her dad. In fact, even at the ripe ole age of nine, she’d probably still shudder from the memory.

First things first… The winner of the MikaRose dress is Liz!  (It was VERY difficult to come to a decision. So Seth drew names from a bowl. Thanks, by the way. I made him write all of your names twice as well as cut out the pieces of paper. You unknowingly help him practice his fine motor skills. heehee.) But don’t worry, I’ve got another give away in the works for next week. (And Liz, can I get your e-mail address so I can connect you to the lovely lady at MikaRose?)

Things have been depressing on this blog lately so I thought I’d switch gears for a bit and let you know about a new holiday coming up. You know how every February 14, men get a chance to display their fondness for their wives or girlfriends by bestowing various romantic tokens of affection (or not)?

Well, guys secretly feel left out. They want their own special holiday. Thus, a new holiday has been created. March 20 is now officially “Steak, Bl*w j*b and Shut the Hell Up” day. This holiday has been created so ladies can show their man just how much they love him. There are no cards, flowers or special nights - just a steak, a bj and some solitude. 

Just think — pairing Valentine’s Day with Steak, Bl*w j*b and Shut the Hell Up” day could usher in a new age of love as men everywhere will try that much harder in February to ensure a more memorable March.  The word is already spreading but like any new idea — it just needs a little push to get the ball rolling. So spread the word and spread the love!

I received this message from a fun, fabby friend. I shortened parts of it but I can’t claim to be the creator/writer of this idea…. I have no idea who wrote it or else I’d give credit where its due. Sorry if it offends anyone. I just thought it was kind of funny.

And wants to let others know (in a brightly colored way) their behavior is quite borish. http://www.glarkware.com/productcart/pc/viewPrd.asp?idcategory=&idproduct=2096

 Also, speaking of links… And stuff… Do your kids love Barney? Well, he’s got a new dvd out. Click HERE for the deets. (The review is written on behalf of Parents Blogger Network.)

It is a beautiful, warm winter day. You’ve got about eight inches of snow melting in your backyard as well as a kid who’s finally feeling better from a stomach virus and needs to get outside. What do you do?

Of course you try to make a snowman. But then you soon remember that your snowman making skills? Utterly suck. Especially after you realize that what you’re actually crafting looks more like a snow penis. And a lumpy one at that.

You have NO IDEA how tempted I was to make the base of that penis resemble a nut-sack more so than what it already does. And because of this snow penis I also have an overwhelming temptation to create a story about the Christmas miracle of the snow penis (you know, rising for just a few days, strong and hard, until it melts away to mush.)

But this is a FAMILY neighborhood and (a somewhat family) website. So adornments were put upon the snow penis.

And to those guys working on my neighbor’s basement? I HEARD YOU LAUGHING AT MY SNOW PENIS!

The hubby thinks the snow penis should be named “Peter”. What do YOU think?

P.S. Do you show your love through food? (I know I do.) Hop over here to read a review on a book that’s going to give you a plethora of tips, tricks, recipes and ideas. Just in time for the holidays!

*Sorry the page was taking so long to load. Tis’ fixed. Thank you to this lovely lady and this lovely lady for letting me know.

Abbeydog has decided to take a break from her busy schedule of being antagonized by “the boy”, laying on the couch and chasing squirrels in the backyard. In her almost 9 years on this earth, she’s learned lots. And she’d like to pass her wisdom along to others. So if you are in need of beauty, fashion, love, relationship or etiquette advice, leave a comment. She’ll get back to you later.

Dear Abbey,

I have tried EVERYTHING I can think of to lose weight. I eat right. I exercise. But still those stubborn extra pounds remain. Help!

– S. in St. Louis

Dear S.

I feel your pain. I gained a few pounds after the family and I moved to this new ‘hood. But I have to tell you, the only time I lose weight is when I stop eating people food. Seriously. When the fam stops sharing the leftovers, I am forced to eat that nasty crap they call kibble. Do you KNOW how that’s stuff is made? Blech. Just one sniff is enough to keep my munchies at bay. The only time I eat it is if I’m positively starving. It definitely prevents me from snacking in-between meals. Maybe substituting your people food with kibble will shrink your bits, if ya know what I mean.

Love and cold puppy noses,

Abbey.

Dear Abbey,

I met this guy who works at Starbucks. I come in for coffee each day just so I can talk to him. He seems to like me. But he still hasn’t asked me out on a date. And since I’m 18 and Starbucks is expensive, I’m running out of money. What can I do to get him to ask me out? Or at the very least get a free coffee?

 – A in Illinois

Dear A,

This one is simple. Young male pups (whether they are of the canine or humane variety) sometimes fear rejection. The next time you talk to him, look at his tail. Is it tucked between his legs or wagging furiously? If he’s the shy type, you should let him know of your friendly interest by giving him a nice long butt sniffing. Course this might also be the way you get yourself that free coffee.

Love and cold puppy noses.

Abbey

Our last house was haunted by a most evil creature my husband calls a “barking skink”. Apparently it loved Marc alot because to my dismay, it “followed” him when we moved two years ago to our current abode.

This invisible creature lurks around expelling the most noxious of odors and sounds. I often wonder if I’m breathing some sort of poisonous gas. The skink, which requires no food or care, sleeps during the day. It chooses to make its presence known only when Marc is at home. Sometimes, when the skink is feeling cheeky, it can stink up an entire room. The loud “bark” is your only warning for what will quickly follow. 

When my husband retires for the night the skink follows, nestling itself under the blankets. As my husband drifts off to sleep the skink seems to come alive. Sometimes its’ loud barking sounds awaken me. When I am overwhelmed by the fumes, I loudly curse the skink and relocate to another bedroom.

It doesn’t follow Marc out in public. But it does like to hide in his suitcase. While vacationing I have often realized, with a resigned sigh, that the skink has followed us, like an uninvited stowaway.

I think the skink must have had a baby that bonded with Seth — he seems to have a small “barking skink” of his own.

P.S. My husband claims the fumes and sound do not come from him. He swears on his life it is the skink. You know, because he’s so suave and classy like that.

P.S.S. Oh and guess what? Mamma Loves nominated me for a Perfect Post recently.  At first I was all, “Whu?” And then I was all, “Awwww.”  And that post of hers I had mentioned? She won a Perfect Post for that! YIPPEE.

Saturday we did what most people do while at Target — we went in for two items but bought a bunch of crap we really don’t need and emerged an hour later $100 lighter. (And I STILL managed to forget one of the items I came for. So we did a rinse and repeat on Sunday. Oy! My aching credit card!)

The stand-out purchase on Saturday? A box of boogers.

Yes, that’s right. We ambled past the Halloween section. Seth (aka “the enabler”) insisted that looking for a costume was as crucial for his survival as breathing and Cheez-Its. (He wants to be a knight — this week anyway. Still need to find a queen costume for the dog. Cause how freaking funny would THAT be?)  And of course, we stumbled onto this smallish, gouhly-green box.

 I asked Seth, “do you know what this is?” Of course he said, “No.” We sounded out the words until he figured it out.

“So… Do you want a box of boogers,” I asked. A woman next to us laughed out loud.

“No,” was Seth’s stunned reply.

“Ok,” I said. We started leaving. And then he freaked out.

“I WANT THE BOX OF BOOGERS!”

I think the whole store heard that one. We bought them.

Some are green. Some are yellow. I admit, I ate a booger. Not bad. Tangy even. Highly recommend the “Snotermellon.”

And speaking of stuff you can find at Target, what about all of the products you DO need? See that little button on sidebar for Vocalpoint? Vocalpoint is a new website where you can get FREE samples as well as coupons for various products. You can also go to the site to pick up all sorts of cool tips, share stories and weigh in on a myriad of topics. And did I mention if you sign up you can get FREE samples on all kinds of cool stuff you use everyday? How awesome is THAT!?! Click on the Vocalpoint button on the sidebar and take a gander… Or sign up here!

This morning as the hubby was leaving for work, Seth, Abbeydog and I followed him out, waving our goodbyes. While on the front porch, we noticed bunko babe/neighbor/friend Jess pushing a stroller with her two-year-old son at her side. 

We waved and she came over to visit a bit. Her son, Caleb, climbed up onto our porch to pet Abbeydog.  He was SO excited to see her! His face was ablaze with happiness. He was enthusiastically talking and pointing. And he was petting her much more lovingly than Seth ever does. It was a sight that would melt the blackest of tarry hearts. Norman Rockwell couldn’t have created a sweeter scene.

That is, until Abbey turned her body a bit to reveal her back end. Adorable little Caleb noticed that dark circle under the root of her tail. (You know where this is going, don’t you?) In true toddler form, he decided to um… check out it out. Using… what else? His fingers.

Well, I don’t think dogs worry much about alien probes. But if they’re smart, they’d be more discerning about inquisitive two-year-olds.

Upon seeing two of Caleb’s little fingers “poke around” for a second, I told Jess. I washed his hands while she stayed outside with the other kiddos. He screamed the entire time. He was upset that I whisked him away from the dog, scared that he could no longer see his mom and indignant about me washing his hands. (That kid’s going to be 16 someday and he won’t understand why he’s so leery of me.)

Abbey hardly reacted. I’m largely relieved. But I have to admit that I’m also a bit alarmed too. I can’t help but wonder –did Seth, as a two-year-old, desensitize her to this sort of thing? And if he did, how on earth does he still have all ten fingers?

Its probably a good thing Abbeydog can’t talk. But if she could, she’d no doubt, be able to commiserate with those getting colonoscopies. Or gyno exams.

By this afternoon, my husband will be a few grams lighter. He’s slated for surgery to remove his uvula.

Ya see, Marc’s a snorer. But not just any ole’ snorer. To describe the noise as “loud” is a great understatement. (Sometimes I can even hear him across the hall in the guest bedroom despite the hum of a noise machine.) The “noise” is not a rhythmic, smooth kind of sound either. It is of the “quiet for a few minutes, then it starts, then it stops, and then it starts again ALL NITE LONG . (Whether he’s on his back, sides or stomach.) Sleeping with that man is like trying to take a nap next to an onery cuss with a chainsaw lookin’ to mess with you. When will the noise start? Wait for it. Waaaaiiiit for it. I find myself waiting “for the other shoe to drop” the entire time I’m laying next to him — but its as if there’s 5000 damn shoes!

So after trying a sleep device, different herbal and over-the-counter stuff as well as allergy meds, (all within the past two years) the ENT decided surgery was the only option left. Marc (tired of his wife sleeping in the Pepto Bismol pink guest room) agreed.

 The doctor planned to fix his deviated septum (Dude! There are things on that man’s body far more “deviant”. Can you fix his digestive system too?) as well as take out his uvula.

So I ask Marc: “If they take out your uvula, will you no longer have a gag reflex? That would be so cool if you didn’t. You could have a career swallowing swords and stuff!”

Marc: “If I don’t have a gag reflex I may turn into a VERY POPULAR gay prostitute.

And then he looks at me. With that odd little mischievous smile. Sometimes, I KNOW what he’s thinking before he even thinks it.

Me: “NO!” (Scurries back upstairs to hide…)

Sorry hon. I’m keeping MY gag reflex.

Speaking of uvulas… Did you know they can be pierced?

Are you t’ard of them ornery critters getting away from you while you’re trying to “hook-up” with that “carnie” at the swap meet or when you’re at the neighbors’ trailer buying your crystal meth? Have we got the product for you! This here is whut we like to call the “Critter Keeper 2000.”

And look! You can even “steer” them in the direction you want to go. So if you want to hide them while talking to baby-daddy #1&3″ (Cause DAMN! He’s lookin’ pretty good since he got d’em brown teef pulled) you can!

And it comes off fairly easily — you know,  so the critter can git ‘cha another beer or swat flies.

Call now and git two fer the price of one! Operators er standin’ by.

(No “critters” were harmed in this display. In fact, “the boy” seems to thrive on us messing with him in this way. Hey, you may call it “antagonizing”. We call it “attention.”)

(Dear DCFS — I joke about this because it is SO VERY, VERY FAR from the realm of my family’s suburban, white bread world. But in all honesty? He DOES thrive on the hasslin’!)