Friday, May 27, 2016

Are You A Redneck Parent Too?

The other day, as I yelled up the stairway, "Dude! Put the pedal to the metal, girls!" for, like, the billionth time that morning, I paused. Took another sip of my organic fair trade coffee, stared down at the butterflies on the toes of my running shoes and thought, "Huh. Jeff Foxworthy might be onto something here."

So I immediately sat right down at the kitchen table to write this list. While I finished my morning flax seed/chia seed/sesame seed/pumpkin seed/wheat germ/TVP/hemp seed oatmeal. Because, like mama says, breakfast is the most important meal of the day.

YOU TOO MIGHT BE A REDNECK PARENT IF 
YOU SAY TO YOUR KIDS:

1. Put the pedal to the metal! 

This useful phrase is perfect for the morning routine when you've already climbed up the stairs three times in attempts to hurry people into their day clothes and you're tired of having to pause your NPR podcast. 

2. Get the lead out!

This one I save for the night time routine. Especially after I finish reading our bedtime story, Herb, the Vegetarian Dragon and the children have collapsed onto the floor. Too. Tired. To. Move. Themselves. Please. Carry. ME!

3. Quicker started, quicker done!

This is for homework time. Because it's the concise vision of perfection in one golden nugget of homily advice. Whispers: It's my favorite.

4. A little less talk, a little more action!

Especially useful during dinner times when your kids are negotiating exactly how many bites they need to take of the Mediterranean Tofu Chili you made for dinner. With artichoke hearts. 

5. Put a little trot in your giddiup!

I like to throw this one over my shoulder as I make my kids bike to school. Because, as Fancy Nancy: Everyday is Earth Day taught us, under a mile we ride in style and leave the Prius in the garage.

6. This is about as easy as herding organic, free range, antibiotic free chickens. 

My kids think this is a compliment.
That's because they're vegetarians. 



What are your favorite motivational Redneck parent sayings? 

Friday, May 13, 2016

There Is No Reason For This Post To Be Floating Out In The Internets.

Unless you have a computer.

And access to a free wi-fi network.

And you know how to spell words like, hat, baby, turtle and techno.

And you're a chicken.

In retrospect, I probably should have led with the whole "you're a chicken" thing....



Top 5 Best Chicken Videos Of All Time*!!!
Curated From The Internets!
Which I Already Alluded To.
In The Title Of This Post.
But, That's OK.
Because, Chickens? 
They Aren't All That Smart.



Video #1
Why walk when you can ride?






Video #2
Chickens need best friends too.





Video #3
Babies. They're hilarious!





Video #4
Fashion. Not just for Scarlet O'Hara anymore.





Video #5
Because it's Friday! Which means it's time to quit brooding around and shake those wattles like the total bantam you are.









I lied. There's a total reason for this post. And I set it to loop at 6am this morning and have been shaking my own bantam tail feathers to its beat ever since! (Don't judge me.)




*No real polling was done in the development of this statement. Unless you count me. Because I totally polled myself.

Tuesday, April 19, 2016

DUDES! I'm Not Joshing You! This Is, Like, For Real!

All I can say, is that, Dudes, the power of prayer? It's freakishly strong.

Like, for reals.

And by reals, I mean really real reals, people.

I mean, like, stories for the family genealogical archives and everything reals!

Awwww....Yeah! The best kind of for reals: Historical for reals!

I've even archived the pictures!

Because serious family genealogy has to start somewhere.

And now, someday Katie and Ellie will be sitting at the matriarchal ends of the Thanksgiving table, passing around the vegan clam chowder, and the littlest great-great-grandchild, with pigtails bobbing and book hidden under the table, will confidently lisp, "Tell uth about Great Great Grandmama again, pleasth." And, because I prayed, Katie and Ellie will be able to dig out these pictures and tell them, once again, the story that proves I was a good and Godly woman.

Ooo! (claps hands, jumps up and down) Just like Bathsheba!

Wait.

Not because of the whole adultery and murder thing!

But, because, the Girl Scout camp where I once worked had outdoor showers.

Oh gosh... I hope that was obvious....

Weeeeeellll... anyway-

This story is about...


a kitten!

On my deck!!

Who wants to cuddle with me!!!

While I drink coffee!!!!
 That's right, people.

God totally just gave me...

my own cat cafe!!!!!
Because I prayed for it.

........

........

........

........

With a holy need.

........

........

........

........

Deep down in my heart.

Ok, fine!

It's possible that maybe it was less like praying and more like whining. But, in my defense, It'd been a really crappy day.

And, sure, this may not actually be how prayer works-wait! Guys! UNLESS! GOD! IN HIS ALL POWERFUL POWERFULNESS WANTS IT TO!!

(cue bright light bulb over my head, heck, throw in some organ music for good measure)

Hey! God! How's it goin'? Goooood. Anyway! Have you seen this shower?



Because, God? I'm pretty sure that my Biblical Spirit Woman, Bathsheba, would totally want me to have it. 

Amen. 

Oops. Sorry. 

I mean, please. 

Amen. 


Again. 

Tuesday, March 29, 2016

I Think Dolly Parton Would Agree. NOW! NEWLY UPDATED!

Yesterday, Ellie and I had just got home from school and she immediately sat down at the kitchen table, pulled out her math workbook and started to do.... math.

Dudes. I didn't have to ask. I didn't have to beg. I didn't even have to bribe her. (As long as you don't count the doughnut we stopped for on the way home a bribe. A yummy sprinkle covered bribe....)

Looks left. Looks right. Looks under chair, because, really, you never know. Looks you straight in the eyes and whispers, "I know. It's kinda freaking me out too..."


Speaking of things that kinda freak me out...

(cue up Sylvester Stallone singing country)



No. Not that. That's. Hilarious.

(Note to self: Waste perfectly good Saturday night watching "Rhinestone".)

No, I was thinking more like NAPSA.

And, in case you haven't seen NAPSA come across in your Facebook feed,  it's-

Wait.

IDEA!

Let's break this down Balderdash style.

Is NAPSA the...

A. North Atlantic Philosophical Sailors Association
B. National Association for the Preservation of Skin Art
C. National Association for the Preservation of Skin Art
D. National Association for the Preservation of Skin Art

If you picked A (North Atlantic Philosophical Sailors Association) I'm guessing you live in Australia and know all about Horatio's left arm*. Which is, like, awesome! But. You picked badly. Because you're wrong.

It's B. 

And C.

And D.

Because, seriously, it's that disturbing.



I mean, NOW how am I supposed to screen the parents of my kid's friends?

Seriously! Because, you know, previously, I could totally drop my kids at a new friend's house, take a quick glance at their decor and be pretty certain that I wasn't leaving them at some psychotic skin suit wearing killer's house. Why? BECAUSE THERE WAS NO HUMAN SKIN DISPLAYED ON THEIR WALLS!

But now? I'm going to have to stoop to snooping through their kitchen drawers.

Because we have to draw the line somewhere.

And I'm hoping it's at oven gloves made out of Great Uncle Bob's biceps.


NEWLY UPDATED!
Guys, I think there's a classier way to do this whole tattoo preservation thing! AND! It's totally approved by both Sylvester Stallone and Dolly Parton!

If Dolly had tattoos.

Obviously.





*He "found the direct evidence of the existence of soul" in his left arm. Guys? History is awesome!

Tuesday, March 22, 2016

I Spelled Omniscient As Omnisiount. Because I Still Have Free Will. Google.

Again.

Again, my computer has put on its "Evil Overlord Editor" hat. Which looks more like a tiara than a fedora, because, well...because...it's...you know, it's obvious, soooo.....

See, my computer in it's omnisiount power has deleted another post I was writing. A week of work, just, gone-disappeared from my computer. And, yes, computer people (everybody wave at Jon!), I looked through my computer history and, I swear, it's like those hours I spent writing don't even exist!

Thought! My computer is in cahoots with Daylight Savings, Benjamin Franklin and the six fingered man from "The Princess Bride". There's virus software for that, right?

I mean, it's not like my ramblings were that bad, you know?

Ok, sure, I may have been writing jokes about Satan in the post it deleted from last week.

And, in one other deleted post, I was trying to draw a well scientifically researched line between ice skating falls and diarrhea.

But that other time! I was totally writing a review about the Pulitzer Prize winning novel All the Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr!  Which is like, a real quality writing topic, you know? But, apparently my computer knew I hadn't actually read the book. It knew my Americano sipping and loud page flipping was sheer posturing. To impress the other coffee shop people. Who I don't know. With my...intelligence.

But, dudes, I did the exact same thing in college once and my typewriter didn't even blink an eye, not even once, through that ten page paper on The Grapes of Wrath*.

So, in order to pull one over on Google, who runs the Internet with Amazon, near as I can figure, I'm posting. Yes. I am. After only 50 minutes of writing, editing, revising, staring off into space and watching people order their drinks at the coffee shop I'm shoving this post into Google's face! Because, just like the Paper Bag Princess, I don't need a knight to save me from myself.





*Note to my alma mater: Look. Don't freak out. I totally read The Grapes of Wrath in, like, seventh grade. So, let's not put this in my file next to that accusation of plagiarism**, kay?

**Note to Mom and Dad: OK, see, I wrote my paper debating pacifism and nationalism in the form of a short story, and, well, apparently, real college students don't turn in well researched fiction as English papers....


Friday, February 12, 2016

Mocking IKEA. MLA Style. Which Is A Lot Like Watching A UFC Fight, But More Exciting. Because There Are Page Numbers. And Shoe Racks.

IKEA! High five up high, man! You are really stepping up your game!

Seriously!

I use to have to log into my PinINterest account to mock interior decorating themes.

Because they didn't finish the quote.
And Charles Dickens is wearing his disappointed face. 
Which, you know, is fiiiiine. But, sometimes, you long for some unplugged, technology free mocking time. Like they had in the olden days.


Sitting around the tables at Wendy's. 

But, IKEA? Lately they've totally been filling that "let's be fully present while we mock" need!

"It's the little things that matter." (pg. 1)
Really? Are you sure about that, IKEA?
 Because...

"Room for one more?" (pg. 59)

Everyone doesn't think so, IKEA.... 

"A well-oiled machine. A cleverly planned come-and-go area 
means that traffic can flow without pile-ups." (pg. 110)


Unless there's a toddler in the house.

Going to the bathroom.
Pretty much better than nature. (pg. 141)


I'm a ROBOT! Haha! THIS IS THE BEST DAY EVER!!!

No. No. It's not. Shut up, Nicolas. (pg. 107)

This is, like, the best "go to" motto for the bathroom. Ever.
(That was sarcasm, IKEA. Don't be fooled.) (pg. 144)


Look, IKEA, deep down-
-deep down no one loves their significant other this much.
So,  just remove your "awake" zone from
my "sleep" zone and no one will get hurt.
Yeah, yeah, I love you too.
Now, shhhh.... I'm sleeping. (pg. 155) 

"For days when you look less than fabulous-
a pretty net curtain comes between you and your reflection." (pg. 121)
Step back, Willis.
I think IKEA just called us all ugly.

And this face?


This face thinks that is one ugly chair.
Because two can play at that game, IKEA. (pg. 310)

Friday, February 5, 2016

If You Don't Say Anything Out Loud It's Not Passive Aggression, It's a Writing Prompt. Plus, In My Fantasy? Dude Got To Make His Own Ice Cream!

I visit a coffee shop every Thursday morning. It's supposed to be my treat (add selfish glare here) before spending the majority of my day volunteering at Katie's school, because, let's face it, when you show up to school drop off with this hairdo*:

You're totally outing yourself as a... stay-at-home mom. Shhhhh....

(look anxiously over shoulder) Maybe they didn't hear that over there at Ellie's school....Maybe.

So now every Thursday I order an Americano, flip open my computer and write for an hour.

Usually.

Unless Loud Guy On Cell Phone shows up.

Then I spend my hour recreating the other side of his loud phone conversation.

Loud Guy On Cell Phone: (walks into coffee shop, places computer bag on chair next to mine) Why does Evan even have to come back?

Person on Other End Of Cell Phone Tower/or Me. In my own head. But Typing Replys On My Computer So It Doesn't Look Like I'm Eavesdropping**: (incredulously, obviously) Because he makes his own ice cream! And there's that... ice cream contest. At... the company.

Loud Guy On Cell Phone: (Interrupting. (Dude. How rude?))  Right. I don't think he's going to come back.

Person on Other End of Cell Phone Tower/Really Me Typing: No, Dude! Ice cream is like a really big deal for Evan. He, like, full on transports last year's trophy to and from work every day. He's not-

Loud Guy On Cell Phone: (Interrupting. (I know! Who'd of thought!?!)) I don't think he's going to accept it if he does-

Person on Other End of Cell Phone Tower/Maybe I Should Just Say Me: (Interrupting. Because two can play at that game.) That new thing down from HR? He might! Plus he was talking about this new flavor, Lemon Chocolate Chip. He seemed really-

Loud Guy On Cell Phone: (Interrupting. (Because that's just how he is.)) I'm sorry, but I think he's going to do something else anyway!

Cell Phone Tower Person/Me: (Sign. Eye roll. Throws hands in air. Like I just don't care. But  because I'm annoyed, not to indicate inhibition on a dance floor.)

Loud Guy on Cell Phone:  Look, what do you think of-I'm just looking at Joel-

Me: Because he wears funny shoes? I don't-

Loud Guy: I thought you said you did have it in there!

Me: (Oh! OK, I get it now. Still on ice cream. Loud Guy is pretty concerned about their ice cream making team. Which is good, because I know all about making homemade ice cream! Thanks, Mom!) Well, it seems there are holes in our ice cream team wait list, man. You've just told me we've lost our best ice cream maker, it's gonna take time to get the team back in the same freezer canister, so to speak, once they hear of this.

Loud Guy: Right.

Me: Exactly, we'll need to suggest someone. Now, Libby has her own antique ice cream maker, crank and all. But, Karl, Karl used to work for Cold Stone Creamery. Bolden just wrote, "I like ice cream" on his application. We're all over the place! We're going to need to dash these people into shape. Ice cream maker pun intended there, Dude. (I'm doing so well! It's like I'M actually having the conversation with Loud Cell Phone Guy!)

Loud Guy: Right. I just don't know which one. Because, they all look good and I don't know how to pick.

Me: We could-

Loud Guy: What did you think about Gino? Did you like him?

Me: (rude breathy noise) Uhhh...no. No one likes Gino.

Loud Guy: Ok, so it's not just me.

Me: (I can say this, because Loud Guy and me? We're friends now.)Nope. He smells funny.

Loud Guy: I know. I know! Can I ask you a question? Why not just put all your buckets into interns?

Me: (Scrambling, because, if they have an ice cream contest at this guys company every year, I want to work there! So, I need to make a good impression!) Because of...the...um...zebras? On ...Joel's shoes?

Loud Guy: Ok, coooool.... Sure. Um, You hang in there.  (Puts phone in pocket. Walks away. To order coffee. Or because He and Joel are like best bestest besties and Loud Guy thinks Joel's zebra shoes are amazing, and now, I've totally insulted him.)

Me: (Mumbling as I close my computer, and start to pack up to volunteer. At Katie's school. Again.) Shoot, man! I'll never get a job at his company now. (tsk) Good goin', Martha.







*Ellie did my hair. I look pretty. She told me so.

**Look, it wasn't just me, Okay? EVERYONE was eavesdropping in the coffee shop that day.