Oy.

This morning we took Rosco to his preschool’s open house.  (I’m fairly certain it’s one of the few schools in this area that doesn’t officially begin until after Labor Day.)  The open house is basically a chance for the kids to meet their teachers, get familiar with the classroom, and for parents to handle any remaining administrative stuff.

True to form, he focused in on the box of toy cars and played with them on the mat for about thirty minutes.  To peel him away from that (because Scott did need to go to work today) we herded out to the playground with the promise of an Oreo cookie (they were serving them).  He ran around for a while, played on a few of the structures, and then I told him we needed to leave so he should get his cookie.

He begrudgingly got his cookie, begrudgingly walked to the car, and begrudgingly got into his seat.

He asked in the car: “Where are we going next?”

That question annoys the shit out of me.  It’s innocent enough, you would think, but he always has a motive in asking.  If you respond “Home” he’ll get pissed off and possibly throw a tantrum in the backseat.  (Usually he’ll start crying boo-hoo crocodile tears VERY loudly which sets Em off.  Makes AWESOME driving conditions.)  So, I responded: “Remember when I told you that Daddy has to go to work?  We’re going home so he can drive to work.  Also, Emmy needs to take a nap.”

He retorted: “But her eyes aren’t closed.  She’s not sleeping.”

I said (after a huge sigh): “It doesn’t matter.  We’re going home so she can get in her crib.”

Scott peeled him out of the car (one of Rosco’s frequent acts of disobedience is to refuse to get out of the car seat) and when he got in the house he was still holding that damned cookie.

I told him to eat it (otherwise he’d play with it and smear it into the floor or his clothes) or throw it away.  He stood there with a look of “bugger off” on his face for about a minute, so I told Scott to throw the cookie away (too damn early for cookies anyway).

Kid pitched a fit and tried to extract the cookie from the trash.  I in turn extracted his arm from the trash and sent him down to the t.v. room.

Snot-nosed tantrum ensued (at which point I made Scott leave for work - Rosco loves having an audience for tantrums).  So, I went down there and gave him some pretty strong warnings (and I don’t make threats I don’t follow through on).  I told him he’d have to stay in his room all day.  (More tantruming.)  I warned him again that if he behaved this way every time it was time to leave preschool that I’d pull him out.  (“No you won’t,” Scott said the first time I made that warning.  Yes, I will.  Preschool isn’t a requirement, dear one.)

It took him about 45 minutes to calm down.  He has tear tracks on his face and dried snot on his shirt.  He’s now playing and whistling.  And I have a headache.

I’m frazzled right now because he escalated the situation to the point where I was about to be apeshit crazy.  (He was trying to hurl the ottoman around.)  I’m running out of tactics.  I’m *thisclose* to resorting to a behavior chart just so he can be accountable for the way he acts.  I hate to have to bribe him to behave, but maybe if he sees on a chart that good behavior yields benefits he’ll be more inclined to mind.

I guess this wasn’t a post about preschool as much as it was about a preschool-related tantrum.

I know I’m not the only mom who has to deal with this kind of behavior behind the scenes, but it’s hard not to feel like an über-bitch when I have to put so much edge in my voice to get him to understand that I’m SERIOUS.  All I’m trying to do is raise a kid who acts like he has some common sense…and not a sense of entitlement.

Posted by Tiffany on 09/02 at 11:21 AM
Such a Big Boy • (0) Comments • Permalink

Wordless Wednesday: Hot Spot

They always end up there.

Posted by Tiffany on 09/01 at 09:56 AM
Blah blah blah • (0) Comments • Permalink

The post where I demonstrate that I have to be a bitch sometimes.

I try as much as I can to be gracious, but I’ve got to get this off my chest.

Those of you who’ve met me in real life know that I dress kind of plainly.  Not “plain as a nun” but more “no need to look over here” plain.  So, I guess I’m more Martha Stewart than Joan Rivers.  I’m fairly modest, but I’m not going to walk around in a burlap sack.

I’m currently sorting through a box of stuff my mom sent for Em.  By sorting I mean “transfering 98% of it to a bag to take to Goodwill.”  They’re hand-me-downs she bought for the foster child she’s had for the past year.  (I won’t get into that.)  I told her not to send them.  Or rather, I told my sister to tell her not to send them.  (I don’t talk to my mom, remember?)  She offered to send them when I was still pregnant, and I relayed “Don’t waste the postage: I don’t know how big this child is going to be.”  So nice that she listens.

It’s not that I have an issue with hand-me-downs (I was the second daughter by less than two years: hand-me-downs are no new thing to me), but the fact that most people don’t “get” my taste.  I won’t put my kids in stuff I wouldn’t wear myself.  (My granny was *really* good at pegging my taste.  She was the only one from my family who was.)  Beggars shouldn’t be choosy, but I don’t beg.

There’s so much pink and overt girliness in this box that it could set the feminist movement back 50 years.  Not my taste.  I rarely wear pink.  Em occasionally wears pink.  She also wears blue, red, green, flourescent orange, bold polka dots, hula monkeys, happy pandas, and various other prints that make me giggle and snort.  She can be a little girl without always looking like a big puff of cotton candy, ya know?  (Sometimes it’s okay.  All the time?  Ouch.)

My other issue with the stuff is it doesn’t fit.  Unless folks are really in the loop they assume that my kids are going to wear whatever size corresponds with their age.  (Don’t know why: my sister and I were always a size below that being runts and all.)  Most of the stuff from the box was fall 0-3 month stuff.  That’s not going to work seeing as how Em is already filling out 3-6 month summer stuff.

The sizes aren’t going to ever match up with the seasons.  I have a summer daughter who’s on high weight and height percentage curves and my mom’s small-sized foster child was born in very late fall. 

I sent her a thank-you note explaining the problem(s) but thanking her for the thought…and she told my sister that she has some more stuff from the girl to send.

***sigh***

Am I supposed to keep taking this shit to Goodwill and thanking her for the opportunity to do it?  Stuff like this is why I get called “disrespectful and ungrateful” by my mom and aunt.  Really.  Because I ask that people not do me any “favors.”

[If this stuff is any indication of how she dressed me and my sister as babies then she REALLY pegged my budding personality wrong.  Not that I really know how we were dressed since all of my baby pictures were “lost during a move.”  (Which is why I can’t tell you whether or not my babies look like me.)]

Posted by Tiffany on 08/31 at 12:38 PM
(7) Comments • Permalink

Sleeping and Not.

(Unauthorized Boppy Sleep.  Don’t worry - I was three feet away the whole time.)

You know, I don’t really get a lot of time sans kids.  Even when I’m asleep there’s one kid within inches of me.  I think inevitably this is going to make me delirious as I really don’t have a lot of time for recreation right now.  Sure, I can stream a movie through Netflix and watch it while I’m folding laundry (and wearing Em), but can I go sit on the sofa and read a book?  No.

That’s your lot when you have kids…especially during the newborn period where you have a nursling who expects you to always be within reach when her eyes are open.

Still, I feel like I (and it is I, not we since really, it’s all on me) have been lax with encouraging some sort of sleep schedule for Em.  Yeah, she’s got her days and nights figured out now, but her naps are screwed up and completely unreliable.  Have to fix this so that she can move into her crib full-time at around three months.

The Sleep Lady says babies between eight and 12 weeks old should be getting fifteen hours of sleep per day on average, and by the end of the month should be able to sleep eight hours at a time.  Em is getting her requisite hours, but they’re not mostly at night (where they need to be).  She’s not close to the eight hour stretch yet.  Last night she did about six, and that was pushing it.  I still haven’t figured out what to do about the nighttime diapering situation, so by the time she wakes up to feed her diaper is completely soggy.  (I can see why some people give up and opt to use disposables overnight, but I know I can find a better answer if I actually do some experimenting.)

Another issue is that at night she won’t go to bed unless I go to bed with her.  So, that means I have to go to bed way earlier than I’m programmed to (which is later than respectable).  She simply won’t stay asleep unless she can have my face within scratching distance.  Sometimes she goes to sleep laying on my chest (a la Snoopy on top of his dog house) and I relocate her to the the bed.  Other times she’ll just conk out on her designated space in our bed (at a diagonal with her feet in my gut usually).  I bought the freakin’ co-sleeper so that she could have a bed of her own, so obviously it was NOT my intention to have her in our bed.  (The reason Rosco got kicked out of our room at around this time was because he was a loud sleeper and we couldn’t take it anymore.)  Em needs to get out of our bed, even if it’s just to the bassinet because our bed isn’t wide enough for this situation.  I can’t deal with sleeping on my side for much longer - it’s killing my child-bearing hips.

Last issue?  She won’t sleep on her back unless she’s got that mommy body-heat right next to her.  She seems to startle less when she’s right up on me (this is the moro reflex—supposed to go away soon).  During nap times I’ve had to cheat and put her down on her belly.  I know - “OH MY GOD, SIDS!!!!” and all that, but look - I’ve made a researched, common-sense decision about this.  The reason you’re not supposed to put young babies on their bellies to sleep is that they may sleep too deeply and not wake up to clear themselves of dangerous situations.  [There are apparently some babies who will sleep face-down and not move to get their noses free of the mattress.  Em isn’t one of those.]  I also make a habit of poking my head into her room to make sure I can see her little butt moving up and down as she breathes.  If she were a wee little thing with low muscle tone I wouldn’t do it.  She can raise her head and neck up 45 degrees without the assistance of her arms no problem (90 degrees with arms).  Regardless, I’d like her to sleep on her back.  Of course I’m paranoid about the SIDS thing even if it makes sense for her to nap on her belly right now.

So, there are a few things I’m going to experiment with this week.  The end goal is for her to go to bed at a reasonable hour in the evening (say, between seven and nine instead of freakin’ MIDNIGHT) so that I can have some personal time before I go to bed myself. 

First: limiting how long her naps are.  It’s tempting to let her sleep for two or three hours at a time, but it’s preventing her from being sleepy in the evening.  Need to go wake her up as soon as I finish typing this, actually.

Second: elevating one end of the crib mattress so that when she’s on her back she’s not completely flat.

Third: making a “U” under her crib sheet with blankets and towels so she’s snugged in and doesn’t wake herself up five minutes after being put down.  (Again, swaddling would help here…if she wasn’t strong enough to break free.)

[The last two things will probably last only until she’s rolling from back to front regularly.  By that point the risk for SIDS is deemed to be negligible.]

Fourth: finding some kind of pocket diaper or something with lots of layers so that I don’t have to change her diaper in the wee hours (she’s usually mostly asleep when she wakes to night nurse).

Five: avoiding wearing her during the day during times when she needs to be awake.  She’s one of those babies who immediately falls asleep when being worn.  Can’t say I blame her.

Tips?  Ideas?  Other suggestions?

I’m not really worried about her waking to nurse.  I’d just like her to sleep better on her back and in her own crib.  She’s getting to the point where she’ll put her own paci back in if it’s near her face, so that does help some.

Posted by Tiffany on 08/30 at 11:05 AM
(7) Comments • Permalink

About Me: Redux.

It annoys me when I go to people’s blogs and see that their “About” section is completely outdated.  So as not to be a case of “pot calling kettle black” I’m updating my own.  If you’re new here, read on.  If not, feel free to go distract yourself with a nice iced coffee.

I’m Tiffany.  I am the Snarky Momma.  I’m actually much less snarky than I used to be (I’ve developed a filter it seems), but every now and then I get pissy enough to spew.  I kept the moniker simply because I think “Mean Momma” is already taken.

I’m a stay-at-home mom who engages in a couple of different hustles for pin money.  My last job (outside the home) was doing food stamps casework for the county.  I left that job two years ago because of daycare dysfunction.  They probably still think I’m going to go back to work at some point.  No.  I’m not.  Especially not there.  That job sucked every last ounce of charity away from me.

I’m married to Scott.  He’s the kind of guy who works a lot during the week and tends to not want to leave the house on weekends.  He’s a doting father and a bit of a hoarder.  He tends to keep shit until it falls apart.  That includes undershirts, cell phones, and vehicles (poor denty leaky Honda).

We have two children: one boy born in 11/06 codenamed “Rosco” and a little girl born 6/10 nicknamed “Em.”  Rosco likes stuff on wheels: cars, trains, trucks, etc.  He’s really smart, but a bad listener.  His mouth sometimes gets him into trouble (he told me “Whatever” the other day.  He really needs to stop eavesdropping on my conversations.).  Em is a baby.  So far she likes being carried with her arms dangling over my shoulder, eating, and sleeping.

We’re North Carolinians, currently residing in The Triangle.  Scott was born in NC.  I wasn’t, but I’ve been here so long that I might as well have been.  I spent a short period of my childhood living in New York.  One summer day I waved “buh-bye” to my mother and came down to visit my grandmother.  When school started for the year I never went back up there.  (I hate that place.)  To this day my mother and I are estranged to put it kindly.  She thinks it’s because she made the mistake of allowing me to come down here to visit/live with my grandmother and that I hold some sort of grudge for her passing the buck.  No.  Actually?  That’s not the reason at all.  I don’t want to sound like a Maury show prelude, so I’ll just comment that it’s a good thing I had a grandmother.  (The aforementioned grandmother passed in 2008.)  The only reason I’ve included this information here is because every now and then I make some commentary that probably doesn’t make sense unless you know a bit of back-story.

By nature I’m a list-maker and a planner…but I’m also a damn good procrastinator.  Just because something is on a list doesn’t mean I can’t justify doing it tomorrow instead of today.

My brand of parenting is of the common sense variety.  I don’t subscribe to any particular school of thought—I do what makes sense for me at any given time.  We co-sleep (only until Em is out of her startle reflex stage), baby-wear (it’s convenient), cloth-diaper (economic and Earth-friendly), and breastfeed (easy), but can’t really be described as “attachment parenting” or natural lifestyle proponents.  We vaccinate (I trust science [within reason]), believe in public schools (will move to be in a safe, strong district, though), and eat bacon.  That’s just the way the cookies crumbled.

I’m a hobby whore.  That is to say I collect hobbies - not that I sell myself [as if!].  I love arts and crafts, even though I suck at some of them.  I’m a failed musician (when I started college one of my majors was music theory), but still have a pretty good ear.  That doesn’t mean I don’t like to listen to bad music.  (Meatloaf, anyone?)  I like to cook (usually) and love to bake.  Knitting and reading occupy a lot of my time…when I have time.  Every now and then I show off my crafty goodness here.

I may be sarcastic, but I’m actually pretty open to receiving suggestions about things.  So please don’t be afraid to make them!  The only people who get their heads bitten off by me are morons.

Posted by Tiffany on 08/26 at 09:25 AM
(3) Comments • Permalink

Mommy’s widdle trooper.

Today was the date of Em’s two-month physical exam.  She’s now 12 pounds + 2 ounces and 22.875 inches long.  So…she is a bit heavier than Rosco was at this point (he was 11 pounds + 8 ounces), but 1/8” shorter (whoopie-do on that piddly 1/8”). 

[...I wonder how much longer I’ll be able to wear her.  Because I’m so freaking short I have a pretty tough time carrying babies over a certain age in slings and wraps because my torso is not particularly long.  The young’uns get tall and I can’t see over their heads (I also have this problem with grocery carts).  I’m going to have to figure out how to use the wrap to carry her on my side or back.  She still hasn’t developed the muscles she needs to keep her head upright all the time, though.  If I put her in a Bumbo seat or the like she’d be staring at her chest (doesn’t THAT sound fun?).]

Em also got her first round of vaccines today: oral Rotarix (which she tried to spit out), and three vaccine shots—Pentacel (DTAP-Hib-IPV combo), Hepatitis B, and pneumoccocal disease.  I was really worried that she would have a meltdown over the needles, but she actually didn’t get too worked up.  She did throw a bit of a fit over being placed on her back (she haaaaaaates being on her back the way some kids hate being on their bellies) and didn’t like that I was pinning her arms out of the way of her legs, but once I picked her up after the shots were given she stopped crying immediately.  She got two pink camo-print bandages on her thighs to make up for all that poking.

BOY, she is in a mood right now.  She was her usual cheerful self for a couple of hours and then all of a sudden *KABLOW!*  I remember it was the same way with Rosco: virtually inconsolable.  She looks so upset. :(

While we were at the pediatrician’s office Rosco got his ‘10/‘11 flu vaccine (intranasal for the first time).  I had no idea they started administering those this early in the year, but then again prior to now Rosco only ever went into the office in November and then six months later in May (if necessary).  Since he was tagging along today the doc suggested he get it because we have a baby in the house.  As he’ll be starting preschool in two weeks, getting that vaccine is probably smart.  He hasn’t had sustained exposure to a lot of kids since he came out of daycare, so his immune system is probably a bit “meh” right now.

I might as well wipe my to-do list off for the rest of the day.  Got a really pissed off baby to carry around.

Posted by Tiffany on 08/25 at 02:39 PM
Baby Talk • (0) Comments • Permalink

I made that: Cupcakes by Compromise

I had to run out on Saturday to take my deceased computer monitor to the special electronics dump, so while I was out I made a real-quick library trip.  I bought some better-than-grocery-store-quality cocoa powder the day before and wanted to do something with it, so at the moment I needed a spark of inspiration.  I brought this home:

(It’s the Martha Stewart’s Cupcakes book in case you can’t see the image.)

I let Scott paw through it before I made my weekly grocery store trip and he found a few things that piqued his interest.  The first were the mocha cupcakes.  I didn’t want to experiment with those on that particular day because they’re a brown sugar batter.  I didn’t know if I wanted a flavor that intense for cupcakes we’d be eating like popcorn.  (Maybe another day.)  The second were the triple-citrus cupcakes.  OMG, they look divine.  The problem is that they call for four sticks of butter and nine eggs.  They’re basically itty bitty pound cakes.  Again - maybe another day (perhaps Thanksgiving…if we do anything this year).

We settled on the marble cupcakes.  They’re a good compromise of the chocolate Scott wanted last week and the plain vanilla I wanted and I got a chance to use my Dutch-process cocoa.

(I went a little apeshit with the powdered sugar, I know.  I got distracted and accidentally dropped clumps of the stuff instead of the delicate sprinkles that Martha would have done.)

The cupcakes are tasty, but I have to agree with Scott’s assessment that they were a bit dry.  He wanted me to frost them, but I wasn’t feeling that on Saturday so I just dusted them with sugar as the recipe called.  Although they were a bit dry then, after storing them for a few days in a sealed plastic container, they are MUCH more moist now thanks to the humidity here.  So, lesson learned: either frost the bitches and serve them immediately, or let them hide out for a day or so under cover.

I do think I’m going to buy the cookbook—it has a lot of great ideas and this is one of the few books I’d actually use from cover to cover.

No cupcakes this coming weekend.  Cookies.  Lots and lots of cookies.

Posted by Tiffany on 08/24 at 09:53 AM
Crafty Mother • (1) Comments • Permalink

We Went There: Old Salem

A couple of weekends ago I complained to Scott that we never go anywhere on weekends.  He scoffed and reminded me that of course we do—we go to the grocery store all the time.

(He said that.  I don’t make this stuff up.)

I gave him a good stare and then he finally asked “Well, where do you want to go?”

I answered “I dunno…where do you want to go?”

“Don’t know.  Where do YOU want to go?”  We went around in circle like that for a while and then I brought up the subject of day trips—that I know people who go to the beach like every weekend during the summer.  He made a face (apparently he has something against beaches).  I suggested Busch Gardens, and he said that was a long weekend trip.  I let the subject drop and did some research over the week.

Friday after my ultrasound we went to Borders where I bought one of those Insiders’ Guides - Day Trips from Raleigh-Durham.  Did that meet a need or what?  We flipped through it and decided to visit Old Salem yesterday.  It’s an hour and a half from here and neither of us had ever been, so bada bing.

Old Salem is about a mile south of the downtown area of what is known as Winston-Salem (yes, of cigarette-manufacturing fame).  Salem was founded by the Moravians in the 18th century.  At the time that part of North Carolina was backcountry and a few intrepid New Englanders came down and settled what was known as the Wachau Tract (yes - that is related to the name “Wachovia”).  Moravian leaders sold the land that Winston was founded on to those city planners and eventually the two towns sort of merged together.

Okay, the thing about Old Salem is that it hasn’t always been maintained as a historical village.  A lot of the things that got built up in Salem have been torn down to revert back to the original Moravian settlement.  There was a Krispy Kreme on Main Street that was gutted, for example.  They got rid of the cement sidewalks and put down cobblestone and brick.

It’s all a work in progress (long process given they have, like, no funding right now).  Regardless, there was a lot to see and explore even though many of the buildings were closed and the fact that many of the homes in Salem are owned and occupied for living.

I have to say, first, that this kid was in a SHITTY mood for most of the day because we wouldn’t let him push the stroller (he’s too short to see over it):

We purchased tickets at the Old Salem Visitor Center that would allow us entry at certain stops along the six-block or so tract.  At those places interpreters dressed in period clothing explained what the buildings were used for and what day-to-day life was like for Salem residents.

(If you have an ear for these types of things you may notice that some of the interpreters have distinctive accents.  The Moravian church is still active in Salem.)
What I found to be most fascinating was the Moravian “choir” system.  Men and women were classified by age and status and single people lived dormitory-style.  There was a single brothers’ house (where Rosco ran face-first into a sign) and a single sisters’ house (now owned by Salem College and therefore not accessible on this particular tour).  You could tell a woman’s marital status by what color ribbon her cap was tied on with: for example, very young girls wore pink, married women wore blue, and widows wore white.  (Wouldn’t that make life so much simpler for some people?)

I could ramble on and on, but I’ll just comment that Rosco is just now at the age where this sort of day trip would be somewhat enjoyable.  We still have to watch him like a hawk to make sure he doesn’t scoot under rope barriers and touch things, but it helps that he can [CAN not WILL, ok?] follow directions and walk long distances.  He’s naturally curious and will tolerate exploring places like this as long as we don’t stand still too long.  It helped that there was ice cream in the upstairs of the C. Winkler Bakery.

Going on a Sunday was a pretty good idea (and it only worked out that way because Scott didn’t want to leave the house on Saturday).  The tour was discounted since a lot of the stops were closed (including some of the museums), but there was just enough stuff there to keep a three- to four-year-old content for a couple of hours.  (Any longer than that and I’m sure Rosco would have pitched a mighty fit.)  Also, the traffic wasn’t terrible.  It was a straight shot on I-40 and really easy to find.  The only other thing I wish I’d done was to buy a Christmas tree ornament to mark the excursion.  And to have made our way over to the gardens.  Oh well.

If you go, there’s a $2-off coupon on the visitor center website.  They do events for Halloween and Christmas (and I bet that tour is gorgeous).

Don’t know where our next day trip will be to.  We’re both from Eastern North Carolina (me from North, him from South), so we’ll probably avoid traveling in that direction unless someone convinces us otherwise.  (Been there, done that.)

Posted by Tiffany on 08/23 at 09:15 AM
We Be Trippin' • (2) Comments • Permalink

The post where I talk about my uterus and stuff.

Last week at my six week postpartum appointment my doctor suggested I consider using an IUD as my next form of birth control.  Because of a uterine deformity we weren’t certain if I could actually have one placed so he referred me to get an ultrasound.  Well, I did that today.

Let me rewind.  Okay.  Excuse this slightly-medical digression.  (And remember - I’m not a doctor and I don’t even play one on t.v.)

Lots of words have been tossed around to describe the shape of my uterus over the course of the past year.  Bicornuate.  Having a septum.  Birth defect.  Extra flap of tissue.  Blah-di-blah.

I didn’t know this anomaly existed until last year when I snuck a peek at my hospital file after getting an ultrasound (and right before having surgery).  I went home and consulted Dr. Google about it and had a good freak-out.

Fast forward to my pregnancy with Em.  I had to get an extra ultrasound to make sure that the “thing” wasn’t restricting her growth.  (There was some disagreement over whether I indeed had a uterine septum or if my uterus was bicornuate—the latter being more of a problem.)  Em was fine: big healthy girl.

Now that my uterus has shrunk back down to normal size (which is not much wider/taller than the IUD), any sort of uterine deformity might prevent the successful placement of a device.  The top of the uterus would push it down where it’d either fall out or just be damned pointless.

A normal uterus looks kind of like picture A up there.

What mine looked like in the ultrasound I had last year was like picture B: kind of heart-shaped indicating some sort of deformity.

Today my uterus looked like picture A.

So…

...

Yeah.  I don’t know what’s going on.  Do I trust the ultrasound techs?  Sure.  Do I trust my body?  Eh.

Am I 100% comfortable with getting an IUD (they cleared me for it)?  Nah.  You know why?  Because it’d be just my damned luck that I would be the person who ends up pregnant because the thing didn’t fit right.  The prospect of having another ectopic pregnancy freaks me right the Hell out, so I don’t know how to feel right now…other than confused.

Posted by Tiffany on 08/20 at 08:25 PM
Blah blah blah • (4) Comments • Permalink

Regarding the art project (a.k.a. my blog)

I’d like to take just a wee second to preemptively answer the question “What the Hell happened to your website?  It looks like someone threw up a bag of Skittles on it.”

Well, basically it’s an inside joke—the kind where every time I think about it I laugh hysterically.  To be plain, though, you know how people always say that things are “Rainbows and _____” (where _____ is usually something like “unicorns” or “lollipops” or whatever)?  It’s sarcasm.  When applied to another person it means that person is completely naive and doesn’t know the bad shit going on around them.  When you use it to define your own circumstance it means “Yo, this really sucks.”

I can’t explain much beyond that.  Just know that every time I look at the page background I laugh manically.

*wink*

Posted by Tiffany on 08/20 at 08:19 PM
Blah blah blah • (4) Comments • Permalink

It was a Zhu.

Molly of Go Mom! tweeted that the Zhu-niverse Tour coming into Cary on yesterday.  That’s “Zhu” as in “Zhu Zhu Pets.”  Zhu Zhus are toy hamsters that move around.  Um…I don’t know how to describe them any better than that, but you can buy really intricate sets for them to scurry around in.

Anyway, they were really popular last year around Christmas and apparently there was a run on them comparable to the Cabbage Patch and Tickle Me Elmo frenzy.  (Not in our house, though.  That’s one benefit of not letting your young’un watch commercial television.)

I was curious about the event, though.  It was kind of overcast this morning and I figured that it’d be an okay day to do something outside…even if it did involve a toy I wouldn’t personally buy.  The tour stop was in a Toys ‘R Us parking lot and I think there were as many people there who came specifically to see the Zhu zhus as there were people who were going to the toy store and happened upon the event.

You would think that a toy with the appeal of an ant farm wouldn’t get so much attenion.  WRONG.  Kids, espeically the little boys, were swarming around those damned things.  I think it’s the whole engineering/watching things move aspect of it.  The hamsters themselves aren’t all that interesting (in my jaded adult opinion)—it’s all the crap you have to buy for them that makes them fun.  It’s like Matchbox cars.  By themselves?  Not so cool.  But, buy the race set with the loop-d-loops and all of a sudden you’ve got an entire afternoon of entertainment.

The neatest part about the event was that there was a kiosk where kids could answer some questions about what sort of things they liked and have their picture taken.  At the end the computer would say which Zhu zhu they’re like and compile a image of your child’s face in a Zhu Zhu body.  All you have to do is enter the ID code on the free badge they give you on their website.

I was only able to drag Rosco away for two reasons.  The first was that we actually went into the toy store (where I bought him a $3 doodle pad).  The second was because it was after 1 and I hadn’t fed him (intentional).

He hasn’t asked for a Zhu Zhu pet yet, but I guarantee the next time he sees one in a store he’ll probably talk Scott into buying him one.  That there is a sign of excellent marketing.

Posted by Tiffany on 08/19 at 08:00 AM
Blah blah blah • (1) Comments • Permalink

My bad!

I’m going through my Google Reader for the first time in a couple of weeks and I just saw that Scattermom tagged me in a meme TEN DAYS AGO.  My bad!  I suck.  I don’t even look at who I get referred by.  So lazy.

The instructions:
1. Sum up your blogging motivation, philosophy and experience in exactly 10 words.
2. Tag 10 other blogs to perpetuate the meme.

Okay, number two I’ve already pretty much dropped the ball on—the ripple effect hit a dead end here last week.  (Feel free to volunteer to pick up the torch, though.)

But to answer number one: I blog to reassure others that there’s no perfect parent.

That’s it!

Posted by Tiffany on 08/18 at 03:21 PM
(0) Comments • Permalink

No, Scott, she’s not.

Me (to Scott): “You know, the shirt Em’s wearing is size six months.”
Scott: “...is it, like, really small and shrunken?”
Me: “No, she’s a big girl.”
Scott: “...”
Me: *nods*
Scott: “Is she going to be, like, Khloe Kardashian?”

Not bloody likely, dude.

Posted by Tiffany on 08/18 at 07:00 AM
Baby Talk • (2) Comments • Permalink

Big boy and baby toys.

Every time I walk into Rosco’s room I kind of guffaw at the incongruity between the decorating theme (gray paint and Star Wars stuff) and all the little boy things.

He’s got a “big boy” room, but there’s enough fluff in there to squash that overall feeling.

I mean, he’s three.  Three-year-olds are expected to have stuffed toys, right?  It’s not like they’re there just for show.  On many mornings he picks one out and takes it to breakfast with him.  Then it’ll spend the rest of the day on the sofa with his blanket watching television with him.  We can’t just get rid of the toys because he’s not done with them.  It would be cruel to whisk them away because of my own aesthetic preferences.  He’s still in that in-between stage where he’s not a baby, but not really expected to act like a big boy all the time, either.

But really, can the animals live somewhere other than on the bed?  They’re not getting along with the robots on the duvet cover.  Or these things on the dresser:

What do you do for softie storage?  Do you keep them out of sight during the day or are they overrunning the house?

Posted by Tiffany on 08/17 at 08:15 AM
Such a Big Boy • (4) Comments • Permalink

I made that: Death by Sugar

Okay, maybe that’s a slight exaggeration.  It’s not THAT much sugar, but still enough to feel on your teeth.

Sometimes I get a yen to bake something just for the hell of it.  That means I’m not baking for some special event or because someone asked in their sweetest voice for something.  (There’s a waitlist for free cake, by the way.  A very slow-moving waitlist.  Some people have probably forgotten they’re on it.  It’s their own fault.  They should check my Twitter for clues that I’m baking and then just show up at my house before the goods are gone.)

The most recent yen was brought on by the new cupcake pan I bought.  A.C. Moore had all of their cupcake-making stuff on sale last week and I gave myself permission to buy one.  I’ve wanted a mini-cupcake pan for a while but just couldn’t justify buying any more kitchen shit.  The truth is that those mini pans are really useful!  For one thing, when you tell your three-year-old they can have ONE CUPCAKE, you don’t feel like you’re committing child abuse when you give them something that small.  The amount of icing on it is negligible.  Plus, it takes them a while to figure out that “Hey…aren’t cupcakes supposed to be bigger than this?”  They don’t really care at first because IT’S A CUPCAKE!  SUGAR!  NOMNOMNOM!  Also, the mini-cupcakes are a helluva lot easier to store in closed containers because they’re just more compact and can squeeze them in really well without squashing too much.

The above cupcakes are nothing special - chocolate cake with white frosting.  WHITE frosting - not vanilla (Wanna know what’s in white icing?  No, you don’t.  It’s nothing too disgusting, but nothing particularly glamourous.).  Scott’s choice.  I wanted yellow cake with chocolate but Scott declared that lame and told me that I always make that (no I don’t).  He used up his one “Nice Tiffany” token already for the week since I did it his way.

The recipe I used for both the cake and frosting aren’t top secret.  I don’t always like to share my recipes or where I find them, but these recipes are ones that probably everyone has.  They came right out of the Better Homes and Gardens cookbook—the red and white checkered one that every woman who can do a bit more than boil water has.  I don’t tweak the recipes much or at all for stuff like this.  Sometimes you want just a simple cupcake, not a delicacy.  (I save the fancy stuff for events and such.)  It’s comfort food, you know?  I did drop a couple of chocolate chips into each cupcake before putting the pan in the oven as a bit of a textural surprise, but other than that I didn’t mess with the flavoring.  I like my homemade cupcakes to be simple and not too rich.  And I ate about ten of them yesterday.

Ahhhh, cupcakes.

Posted by Tiffany on 08/16 at 09:28 AM
Crafty Mother • (8) Comments • Permalink