Dear Yoplait Yogurt Assclowns,

I’m just wondering whose big bright idea it was to put foil lids on your containers WITHOUT any kind of helpful little pull tab or perforation or something.

My kid could eat four containers of yogurt a day if I’d let him, but I don’t for several reasons including the dreaded sugar factor and the fact that I can’t get the damn things open to friggin SAVE MY LIFE.

While I appreciate the chance to vent my frustrations by repeatedly stabbing the lids of yogurt containers at every meal and snack time, I don’t think this is good behavior to model for my kids, plus it gets to be a real pain in the ass to have to constantly clean yogurt spatter off my glasses.

So how’s about a pull tab? A little red string like band-aids and trident have? Perforation? A plastic yank-it-off thing like milk? Something? Anything. Cause any day now I’m going to go batshit crazy over these stupid yogurt containers and I’m not looking forward to cleaning yogurt off of my textured walls while explaining what "batshit crazy" means to my four-year-old.

Fix it, Yoplait, or I’ll have to suck up the price difference and serve Brown Cow all the time instead of just on the days I want to feel like a responsible parent.

Concerned mom


The kids say thanks!

a nice warm feeling
kids are so stoked for new books
new readers for life

I got a surprise in the mail today – a big pack of thank-you notes and pictures from the kids we bought books for (through Donors Choose).

They are so incredibly stoked, it’s amazing. Their letters talk about how boring the TAKS textbooks are and how grateful the kids are to have "real" books to read. Many of them send their wishes for other kids and classrooms to be so lucky.

So give yourselves a big ol squishy hug for helping out these kiddos and their teacher. I’m going to try and post some of their pictures and letters, because it’s something you all should get to enjoy.

Yay blog readers for helping out! Yay books! Yay kids being excited about books!

Click here and you can see some of the pictures and letters they sent.

If Denise Richards Can Throw Laptops At Old Ladies And Then Blame The Paparazzi, Here’s Some Stuff I Want To Blame On The Paparazzi

1. Forgetting to buy my mom a birthday card? The paparazzi
were swarming all over my Hallmark Gold Crown store and I had to get out of there.

2. Driving through the tollbooth
and throwing my change at the basket, and missing the basket, and
having to get out of my car and pick up the change off the road thus
causing a line of 40 cars to back-up behind me? My throwing arm was
weak from having to repeatedly flip the bird at the paparazzi.

3. Running out of diapers? The damn paparazzi somehow made my baby poop seven times yesterday.

4. Missing my appointment with the eye doctor? The paparazzi forgot to set my alarm clock.

5. Refusing to play Candy Land with my four-year-old? The paparazzi are
hiding behind Princess Frostine’s skirt and they’re going to ambush me.

Only cooking vegetarian burritos for dinner three nights in a row? The
paparazzi ate all of the chicken and then stole my cookbook.

Cursing out the telemarketer even though I know he’s from India and
only doing his job? The paparazzi made me miss my anger management class.

8. Leaving a load of towels in the washing machine for two
days? The paparazzi drugged me and made me sit on my couch watching
TiVo’d Ellen episodes and eating Bold Chex Mix.

9. Replacing the toilet paper with the loose part underneath instead of on top? I was trying to irritate the paparazzi.

10. All that credit card debt? The paparazzi have stolen my identity.

Thanksgiving haiku (from last year)

to tide you over
until food and time settles
old turkey haiku!

pie filling tastes of
relatives’ holiday stress
eat store-bought instead

grandmother’s china
filled with turkey and gravy
all it’s ever known

Thanksgiving morning
It’s time for the parade! For
us all to ignore!

ah, sweet potatoes
please do not be mad that I
like your topping best

stuffing or dressing
a debate for the ages
‘cept that dressing wins

broccoli and rice
with butter, cheese and butter
and Phazyme sprinkles

on this occasion
will football be allowed, or
must I talk to you?

can you snap out of it when you’re drowning?

can’t quite reach surface
it’s definitely there though
least, that’s what I hear

I often joke about being driven crazy. Right now, though, I’m beginning to wonder if it’s actually happened. The crying seems to be a hint that maybe something’s not OK. This constant, behind the eyes prickly feeling I have isn’t a good feeling. Only it’s not constant. Some days I’m great – a mama who’s taking over the world. But other days all it takes is one thing and I have to chew on the insides of my cheeks to keep from completely losing my shit. Today is a shit losing day.

It’s funny how, at about four months post partum, it seems like you’re getting the hang of things. You kind of have a routine, you recognize some of your baby’s cries, you know how to soothe her, you know ways to literally talk your older child off the window ledge (or the kitchen counter or the back of the sofa), you’re getting the hang of it. But other people see that you have the hang of it and they think you actually know what you’re doing. Offers of help don’t come as often as you still need them. Your spouse goes to work early and comes home late because he sees the house isn’t falling apart without him. But you don’t have the control over everything like people think you do.

It’s a precarious hold I have over my household and myself right now. Sure things are messy, but the kids are fed, clothed and happy. The bills are paid, the budget is kept, the sheets are washed, the floor is cleaned, the dog is alive, birthdays are remembered, Christmas presents are bought, books are edited, new books are written, the car has gas, the pantry has food, hair is washed, underwear is cleaned, batteries are replaced, plastic is recycled, frogs are fed, eye doctors are visited, well child appointments are scheduled, school is arrived at on time, as is dance class, old milk is thrown out, dishes are cleaned, clothes that are too small are replaced with clothes that are too big, prescriptions are filled, lullabies are sung, knees are kissed, tears are wiped away, snot is wiped away, wishes are made from tiny little eyelashes, and sometimes, every now and then, mama gets to take a nap.

Mama does a lot these days and she misses herself. I miss having dinner together as a family, too. I miss having a husband to wake up to in the mornings instead of a hurried kiss as he leaves the house at 4:30AM for work. I miss going places. I don’t go places very often, other than taking the wee one to school and dance and the occasional visit to the library. I could go places when he’s at school, but I don’t have the energy. I’ve been too busy being mama from 4:30 AM to 7 PM every day. Even if I COULD get out, it wouldn’t be safe for me to drive because I’m so tired.

And that is why I have the prickly feeling behind my eyes. I’m tired. I’m a little overwhelmed. I need my partner to be my partner and not a visitor the family gets to see for a hour and half everyday before we go to bed. I need a break, a vacation, a shoulder, a good cry. And I need to not feel guilty for needing that. Because I do feel guilty for needing it. I HAVE a partner. I HAVE great kids. I HAVE my writing. I do not live in Darfur. My husband is not in Iraq. I do not need the food bank for my holiday dinner.

I am lucky.

But I’m underwater right now.

I’ve got yer shat-tastic right here

many adjectives
most do not contain word "shat"
does that make them lame?

I would like to preface this post by saying I have not seen William Shatner’s new show on the TV. But I’ve seen the promos and they claim it’s "shat-tastic!"

You wanna know what’s really shat-tastic? Having your kiddo shout "I just had water poop!" from the bathroom.

Sigh. You can’t spell awesome without "me."

the fantasy shattering freezer

yay field trips are fun
help out the community
insult the freezer

Earlier this week the wee one had a field trip to our local food pantry. The wee-er one and I went along to help wrangle the kids (well, actually we went along because I can’t get the wee one’s booster out of my car so I had to drive him. Yes, yes, I’m Mother of the Year.).

The kids got to help sort the cans they brought and they learned about the color-coded system of filling food bags. As I’m sure you’ve guessed already, this was, shall we say, less than scintillating for a group of 4-year-olds. But they were all very well-behaved and the trip was short.

At the end of the visit, we were all invited into the walk-in freezer to take a gander at the gazillions of frozen turkeys. Most of the accompanying mommies declined a chance to freeze our butts off, but the kids jumped at the chance. As they filed into the freezer I made a crack to the other moms about how we should shut the door and high-tail it to Hawaii for an impromptu vacation. Didn’t get a super response from that joke. What? Can’t a mom joke about locking kids in a freezer?

Anyway, the kiddos came filing back out, shivering and giggling – except for the wee one. He had a trademark scowl and eye roll going on.

"What’s the matter?" I asked. "Wasn’t it fun to see all the turkeys?"

"They didn’t even have feathers!" he exclaimed indignantly – as if we had all pulled some kind of mean joke on him. "They were all cut up or something."

I guess that would be kind of disappointing. I mean, if you’re expecting a bunch of regular ol’ feathery turkeys frozen in suspended animation, it might suck to see a bunch of Butterballs.

So our trip ended with disappointment – there were no "real" frozen turkeys, and I missed my chance to skip town for Hawaii. Overall, though, the food pantry was surprisingly entertaining and educational. They do good work there, even if they refuse to lock children in their walk-in freezer.