Thursday, December 19, 2013

NEWLY UPDATED!!: Indiana Jones ACTION FIGURE! Now With More Phrases!

In honor of the holiday season I made this video with the naked Indiana Jones action figure I found at the salon while waiting for the kids to get their hair cut.

But, since I run a family blog, I made him put his clothes on first.

And, obviously,  by 'in honor of the holiday season' I mean, "Dang! Do you know how much stuff I still have to get done!?!"

Apparently Indiana Jones hates Apple products, and possibly all technological mobile devises, which, let's face it makes him even awesomer than he was before, so, I'll just leave the video link right here.

Thursday, December 12, 2013

Holiday Office Party Survival Tips You Can Actually Use

You know what's not useful? Lists people post on the Internet around the holidays entitled "How to Survive The Office Christmas Party in 12 Easy Steps". First off, 12 is way too big of a number of steps for my caffeine* ravaged brain to handle. Second, they all seem to offer useless advice like "You have to go" and "Ask people questions" or, my favorite, "Don't photocopy your butt", because, Dude, hasn't every sitcom in the world addressed this party faux pas like a thousand times? So, I'm making my own list.  Because it's Christmas, and I stupidly followed all those bossy people on the Internet's first tip of "You have to go" and attended Jon's work party last weekend, and, really, what else was I supposed to do there?

Rule #1: Dress fancy.
And fancy has rules. Apparently. For instance, items on the "approved fancy list": 1) your grandmother's art deco necklace, 2) dresses you didn't buy in 1999, 3) heels.  On the other hand, items on the "not approved fancy list": 1) the comfy sweater your aunt knitted your grandpa in 1972, 2) your jumping jack Santa pin you've had since you were six, 3) TURKEY! hats, 4) anything you wore to the holiday party last year, 5) running shoes. In other words, I had to go shopping this year. Because Mabel, Geraldine and Belinda made me.

Rule #2: Brush up on your baby sign language.
This is especially useful if it's one of those lame office parties with like, music and a dance floor and stuff, because communicating to your spouse that "shoes hurt" and "want cookie"  is a lot less embarrassing if you don't have to yell.

Rule #3: Wear a slip.
Seriously, get one, even if you have to rip the last slip JC Penney has on their shelves out of a 90 year old woman's hands.  Because, eventually, sometime during the night it will totally cover your butt.  Literally.  Because of science. And wool coats. And because, inevitably, the restroom will be located on the complete other side of the bar. Where all the people are. That you have to walk past.  Because of science again, or really psychology, which is "almost real science" according to Jon.

Rule #4: Pack extra panty hose.
Also, I shouldn't even have to say this, but, it's totally true.  Because you never know.  

Rule #5: Bring one of those over the door restroom hooks.
Because washing your hands with your purse, coat and scarf clenched between your knees while balancing on three inch heels is hard.  Plus, when women walk into the restroom to find you splayed against the wall, heels askew, coat dropped on the floor, scarf between your teeth, giggling, and insisting "I haven't even had my one glass of wine yet!" they totally don't believe you.  At. All.

I did think about making my list all even and adding a Rule #6 about how to converse easily with people you don't know in holiday party situations. But, after spending the night making socially awkward hand gestures, mooning everyone, and finding myself practically sprawled on the restroom floor, it was probably best the DJ was too busy bustin' the Christmas tunes to really have a chance to engage people in conversation, so we left. Plus, it was like 9:30 and the coffee carafe was empty. Strangely enough.

*Fun fact: I only drank coffee in actual coffee shops before I had kids.  So, if you think about it, having kids basically drove me to drink.

Thursday, December 5, 2013

UPDATE: Teach Your Children Well, Because We All Know I Didn't Learn It The First Time Around

I was never very good at math. In fact, teeeeechnically, if you insist on using a traditional grading system,  I never learned my 6, 7, and 8 multiplication facts. And I only passed my 9s because my best friend taught me that finger trick, which, has seriously, been invaluable in my day to day life. And really, I'm not sure how I actually passed third grade math, let alone earned a college diploma in Elementary Education that says I'm competent enough to teach the subject.  So, you can imagine my absolute delight when on the day of my marriage to Jon I realized that not only did I marry a pretty awesome guy (yadda, yadda, insert heart warming mushy gushy stuff here) BUT I now had my own live in human calculator! The bliss! The joy! Never to have to figure out how much to tip a server again! Never have to add fractions while doubling recipes! Percentages! Areas! Averages! Means! Exponential Models! Periods of a periodic function! Directrixations of parabolas! FOCAL RADII! The idea of all that bonus marital mathematical freedom was absolutely intoxicating!

And short lived.

Because, apparently, Jon doesn't appreciate random equations being verbally lobbed into his "internal intellectual space". He also doesn't appreciate it when I try to pass off phrases I make up, like "internal intellectual space" for example, as something he's said. However, if I've learned anything in this past decade plus of marriage, it's that it's all about compromise. Jon.

I'm sure you can imagine, and sympathize with, the awkward social situations I have had to, literally, struggle through these past years. And, no, your imagination is not exaggerating, it has been that bad. But, then, at the store yesterday, as I was hoisting on my grocery filled backpack (with a very womynly grunt)  and wondering how heavy it was and dreading the tediousness of all the math I would have to do by myself when I got home, adding up the weight of each and every item, I realized, dude, this is what I had kids for!

So, when Katie got home from first grade, I had this SUPER FUN MATH PROJECT waiting for her on the kitchen table:

Mommy and Eleanor went to the store to buy groceries.  When mommy checked out and loaded all the groceries in her backpack she said, "MAN! This backpack must weigh 637 pounds!" Was mommy right?  If not, how heavy was her backpack? Use the table to solve the problem. 
And, with a smile, that girl sat down at the table and totally figured it out!   

Dudes. I'm soooo getting that human calculator!

You know the old saying, "A calculator doesn't make you smarter, just prettier"? Let's just say, I used a calculator to check Katie's work and my eyes looked completely amazing while doing so. My hair was shiny and bouncy too.