Dog: "I'm biting you! Woooo!!!"
Cat: "Go away!"
Cat: "No really - GO AWAY!"
Cat: "I'll pound your head!"
Cat: "I'll bite your ears!"
Cat: "I'll eat your lips!"
Dog: "Still biting you! I'm biting your leg!"
Cat: "BAD DOG!"
Cat: "I kill you!"
Dog: "You don't scare me! I'm biting your butt!"
Cat: "OWWWWWWW!"
Dog: "Now I'm eating your arm! Delicious!"
Cat: "Go! AWAY!!"
Dog: "Uncle!"
Apparently I am a big copycatting copycat because every time burghbaby writes a blog post, I find myself thinking – ooo yeah – I can talk about that, too! But since a recent post was about childhood stupidity, she doesn’t mind me copying her. I think it’s because she likes to hear how stupid I have been. And I have been spectacularly stupid.
While I never used a Slip n Slide indoors like burghbaby, I did use one on a hill. With a rubber raft. And baby oil. And because we lost the pegs that hold the plastic slide down, we figured big rocks and bricks would work. Needless to say, one of the other participants ended up with a bloody, broken face.
And then there was the sled riding down a giant hill in the middle of the street. We’d go all the way to the top of the neighborhood and WHEEEEEE down 5 blocks to the bottom, risking our lives the whole way – particularly at every intersection, since not all of them had stop signs.
Or the time my friend Carol and I found some un-exploded firecrackers and decided to set them off. We were about 7 at them time. Stupid enough as it is, but one of them didn’t have a fuse. And being raised by a MacGyver kind of dad, I figured I would just make one, instead. So I stuffed a dried stem in there and lit it. And you know what? A dried stem doesn’t have the same slow burn as a firecracker fuse. It immediately burned down and exploded in my hands. I didn’t have feeling in three if my fingers for an entire month. I never told my parents and suffered in silence because I was afraid to get in trouble.
But my stupidity peaked –as it generally does – in my teen years.
Evidenced by the time My friend Tee and I decided to shoot her brothers bow in the house. Inside her parents tiny 12x12 bedroom. The arrow embedded in their headboard was not easily explained.
Or the time we had a (comparatively) warm day in January when there was about a foot of snow on the ground. And we decided to lay out. In bikinis. On the roof. That was covered in snow. Which led to talk of swimming in the summer. Which led to getting out the baby pool, hooking the hose up to the sink, and running it out the window and filling the pool with hot water. Which led to the idea that it was like a Jacuzzi, but that it needed bubbles. Which led to adding more hot water and a bunch of dish soap. Which led to hives. Luckily, it didn’t lead to hypothermia or pneumonia.
Bu the perhaps the biggest boneheaded move I ever made was when Tee’s sister B and I decided we wanted to play with some sparklers. But it was hot outside, so we thought we’d do them inside. After burning a couple, we started getting all science-y and wondering about the “coating” and how it worked. So we crumbled several of them, piled it in a glass ashtray (one of those fancy ones from back in the day) and lit it. It was pretty cool. Especially the part where it burned so got that it melted the freaking glass.
But it doesn’t end there! In the excitement of the melting ashtray, we somehow managed to drop a regular burning sparkler and not notice until it burned a several inches long, black scar into the thick, red living room carpet (did I mention that we were doing this in the middle of the newly redone living room?). We were dead and we knew it. But how are we still alive to tell the story, you ask? Remember I told you I was raised by MacGyver? Well, I came up with a solution. First, I got a razor – not a razor blade or anything, but a disposable Bic – and shaved off as much of the burnt carpet as I could. This left a slightly browned indent. Next, I got a red crayon that matched the carper perfectly, heated it a little and colored over the burn. And somehow it worked! There was a slight depression, but not really very noticeable. We were hoping it would buy us enough time to be able to play stupid when we were questioned, but the questioning never came. Despite Tee’s father’s eagle eye and her mother’s obsessive cleaning, no one ever noticed. We told them about it years later, when we were grown and they were redecorating the room again and they were shocked that they never knew. They did, however, bring up the arrows in their headboard…
Sadly, these are just a small sampling of my childhood stupid moves – I could go on for days with the rest. So tell me – what was the stupidest thing you did as a kid?
I was an early reader – like seriously early. As in: a toddler. These days, with all the crazy baby reading programs and all that crap, it doesn’t sound like much, but in those long gone days of no pre-school and kindergarten being basically play time, and general laid-back learning plans, it was definitely well out of the norm.
The difference between the baby readers of today and the baby readers of my day is basically that in my day, if your baby could read, it was because your baby was a natural reader and not because crazy parents were already thinking about Harvard. My mom will tell anyone who listens that while she read to me every day, I taught myself to read. She says that started reading early because I was a messy eater. See, whenever I sat down to eat, my mother – trying to keep me from getting breakfast all over her clean house – used to line the table and under the chair with newspaper. So while I ate, I would “read” the paper, asking my mom what this word and that word were. Eventually, I went from “reading” to actually reading, and I haven’t stopped since.
I was the kid that would be on the silver or gold level SRAs while my classmates were on the yellow or brown. I was the kid who took a book with me everywhere (I still do). I was the kid who had special permission at the library to check out more books than was generally allowed because I devoured them. I was the kid whose aunt and grandma would rush to the store the very day a new Trixie Belden was released, because I couldn’t wait another minute. I was the one whose reading teacher bought her books for Christmas because she wanted to share non-curriculum books with a student she knew would appreciate them (and btw, I am still in touch with that teacher and still sharing books).
It’s funny, though – anyone you would ask would tell you that reading is a great thing. And yet, reading gets no respect, as far as hobbies go. My mom was proud of my reading abilities and yet I can’t even begin to count how many times I heard, “Get your nose out of that book!” People who read a lot often get labeled bookworms or nerds or antisocial (because they would prefer to read than socialize).
I myself have been reprimanded for reading at family functions, accused of avoiding people. I have heard people make comments about myself and others reading in a restaurant or other public place when alone, saying that people who do that are insecure and they use their book as a barrier so they don’t have to interact or to hide their embarrassment at being alone. Maybe some people do that, but maybe – you know – they just like to read!
And then there are the defensive non-readers. The people I have previously described are just a bit clueless, I think, but these people are annoying! Here’s the thing – read, don’t read – unless you’re my kid, I don’t care. Be who you are and own it! I know a lot of people that look down on crappy TV. I am not one of those people. I love crappy, trashy, awful TV shows and I don’t care who knows it. It doesn’t mean that I am not smart or don’t know how to do other, more productive things. But defensive non-readers don’t get this. Instead of having the attitude of hey - don’t like to read, but that doesn’t make me an idiot, they instead act like idiots and put down people like me – people who do read.
I’m sick to death of being insulted by the defensive non-reader. They don’t outwardly insult readers (because like I said – anyone would agree that reading is a good thing). Instead, they drop passive-aggressive insults. Mainly, “Oh, I don’t have time to read!” I can’t tell you how many variations of this I have heard over the years. And yes – I do know that it is hard to find time to read. But we all make time for the things we want to make time for, whether it’s reading, or pedicures, or girl’s night out, or shopping, or going to a movie. And while it isn’t the actual words I & don’t & have & time & to & read that bother me – the tone with which they are said will get me every time. That and the little extras:
Oh, it’s nice that you read. I don’t have time to, though!
I don’t have time to read – I’m just too busy!
I don’t have time to read – I like to spend time with my children!
I don’t have time to read – I work!.
Please allow me to respond:
Fuck you. I’m busy, too, and I read. I also love to spend time with the kids. Sometimes we spend it reading. I work, too. And have a long commute. And two busy kids. And a house and cars and dogs and a cat and fucking hermit crabs and a family who is constantly having parties and friends who I get together with occasionally and a computer I’m addicted to and on and on and on with all the things you do, and guess what? I still read!
If you don’t read, I don’t think I’m better than you or smarter than you, but give me the same respect. If you don’t read – I don’t care. But I sure as hell am done being insulted by the implication that my avid reading means I am somehow lesser than you as a wife, mother, employee – whatever. And also? Fuck you.
I recently had several people (on different occasions) react like I am insane because I mentioned that The Girl wanted a nook (like mine) and that I was considering buying her one. Finally, by the third person, I was done smiling and biting my tongue. When I got the “A nook? That’s a lot of money to spend on something like that for a seven year old!” I responded with, “PS2 - $200, PS3 - $350, wii - $200, xbox - $300, PSP - $150, Nintendo DS - $150, ipod touch - $300+ – that’s a lot of money to spend for a child to pretend to kill people and play angry birds. There is no amount of money that is too much to spend to keep my child reading.”
Doesn’t anyone remember those old 70s commercials? Reading is fundamental.
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Update: Free chip winners have been chosen!
Commenter #10 is Amber & commenter #4 is Shawna! Congrats, guys. Send me your contact info and I'll pass it along to Shearer's.
I love chips. No – that’s an understatement. I really, REALLY love chips. I am totally serious when I say that if there were an entire chocolate cake in front of me and I had to choose between it and a bag of chips I would take the chips 99% of the time. And the 1% when I took the cake? Immediately upon finishing it, I would want – you guessed it – CHIPS.
So, needless to say, when Shearer’s contacted me to see if I would like to try their new line of chips and share them with some friends, I got as far as the word “chips” before I started yelling “Oh HELL YEAH!”
Shearer’s told me they’d be sending me a whole bunch of chips, but I had no idea what “a whole bunch” meant until the giant box arrived at my doorstep. Since my schedule was a little crazy, I couldn’t have my “chip party” for a few weeks, so the time between the chips arriving and the chip party was pretty much spent like this:
The Boy: Can I have some of those chips?
Me: No – they are for the chip party.
The Boy: Come on! Let me have some of those chips!
Me: No – they are for the chip party!
The Boy: Now?
Me: No.
The Boy: Now?
Me: No.
The Boy: Now?
Me: No.
The Boy: NOW?
Me: NO!
Luckily, I managed to keep him out of the chip pile until it was time to share them with some friends. And there were plenty to share:
The photo doesn’t even clearly illustrate the sheer volume of chips – there were a TON. And man, were they good. Also – the silver bags were temporary packaging – in the stores, you’ll see pretty bags.
First off, there were the classic potato chips – they sent us Classic, Rippled, Barbeque, and Sour Cream and Onion. They were all good, but Rippled seemed to be the favorite. The BBQ chips are really good, too – the flavor is just right – lots of it, but not overwhelming. And the thing I love best about the “non-flavored” varieties is that they had just the right amount of salt. Unsalted is too bland, but many brads use WAY too much salt. These were just right. And the extra-awesome thing about Shearer’s potato chips is that they have recently been revamped – they are now made with 100% High Oleic Canola Oil, which means no trans fat. If I am going to eat chips like the crazy chip-lover that I am, it’s nice to know they are a little more healthy now!
They also sent along some of their non-potato chips, like Riceworks and Shapers.
Riceworks are made with brown rice and they are YUMMY. We tried the Sweet Chili, Parmesan and Sun Dried Tomato, and the Sea Salt. A couple of people liked the Sea Salt best, but I couldn’t get enough of the Sweet Chili. I like that these are a healthy snack that are still packed with flavor. All of the flavors went well with the dips we had (hummus, French onion, and some kind of cheddar and bacon). They have a couple more flavors, and I intend to try them all. Because in addition to being delicious, these snacks are all natural, with no preservatives or artificial colors. They are low in saturated fat, have no trans fat and are wheat and gluten free. They have no cholesterol and they have 33% less fat than regular potato chips.
Lastly, we tried the Shapers, which are whole grain chips. They are packed with nutritious fiber and whole grain (obviously) – each serving has 19 grams of whole grains, so they are hearty as well as delicious. And they have no (or low in the case of Cheddar) saturated fat. What surprised me about the Shapers is how light and crispy they are. Some brands of whole grain chips are thick – more like a tortilla chip – but Shapers were thin and crispy like a potato chip. So you can get the “feel” of a potato chip with the nutrition of a whole grain chip. These were my favorites. We tried the Sea Salt and the Black Bean and Salsa flavors. And let me tell you, after a couple of the Black Bean and Salsa ones, I grabbed them, ran from the room and hid in a corner, threatening anyone that got too close to me and my Precious…I mean Shapers. I loved them THAT MUCH. I can’t wait to try the additional flavors of Cheddar and Cinnamon. Especially the Cinnamon, because dessert chips? I am IN!
Anyway, thanks to Shearer’s for the opportunity to try out some yummy new addictions snacks. We all had a great time and everyone (even the camera shy who don’t want their photos published) agreed that we would be buying more in the near future!
And now I have something for YOU. Leave me a comment and tell me what your favorite snack is, and I will randomly select TWO winners to each receive 5 bags of Shearer’s chips! It’s party season now, so I am sure these could come in handy. Or you could hide them from all those vultures and keep them all for yourself. Either way – delicious! I'll draw the winners on Friday.
And now the legal stuff: Shearer’s provided the chips and a grocery gift card for me to throw a chip party, but they had nothing at all to do with what I have written. My crazy, obsessive chip-love for Shearer’s is all mine.
The puppy (I have a hard time calling him that because he’s an enormous beast) – who was suspiciously not in his crate – wandered into the bedroom last night and jumped up on the bed with me. I was too lazy tired to get up and put him in the crate, so I figured, what the hell, I’ll let him sleep in here with me tonight. Big mistake. Because while I got in bed thinking, “Ahhh…sleep”, he was thinking something a little more like this:
“I’m in the bed! IN THE BED!! Wooo!!!! First I think I’ll run over her! And then over here! And here! And wheee - I’m over here now!! WOOOOO! I can jump! Yay, jumping! Jump! Jump! Jump! JUMP!! Wait, what’s that? Grrrr…woof! Hey! I’m on the bed! Wooooo! I love the bed! It’s for bouncing! BOUNCE! BOUNCE! This is fun! Wheeee! A CAT! YAY! Jump! Bounce! I’m on this side! Now I’m on this side! Whoa – TAIL! Get it! Get it! Get it! GOT IT!! Around and around and around and around and around! Where’d it go? THERE! POUNCE!! I think I’ll lay down now. THUMP! Mmmmmm…my toenails! Chomp crunch crunch CHOMP CRUNCH! What’s that? What is it?? SOMEONE’S FOOT! GET IT!! Jump JUMP POUNCE! Grrr! My BUTT! Lick! Slurp! Lick! Licklicklicklicklick! BURP! I wonder if I can roll over my person? OMG! FUN!! Roll roll roll rollrollrollROLLROLLROLL! WHEEEEEE!!! Hey! I’m back on this side again! Now this side! Now this side! WOOOOOO!!!!!
Needless to say, I didn’t get much sleep. Let's see if he cares:
That's what I thought.
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I saw a clip from one of the morning shows this week that was talking about odd beauty products and one of the ones they featured was Demeter fragrances. This company has a ton of different scents for reasonable prices. Sounds pretty good, right? So I figured I’d check out the website and see what they had to offer. And boy do they have some doozies.
I’ll admit - some of these are normal fragrances, like lilac or patchouli. But others are “different”. Of those, some are understandable – salt air (Kramer was onto something), or maybe snow (which sounds like it might smell good, but the description says it includes the scent of “dust” and “earth, so I’m not so sure).
And while they are odd, scents like play-doh and crayon are fun, if not particularly wearable. But then it starts getting weird:
Tomato (delightful for eating, but I don’t want to smell like it.
Laundromat (I don’t know what it’s like where you are, but most Laundromats I’ve been to smell like Tide and hangovers – I can get that in my own basement on a Sunday) .
Gin & Tonic (I can smell my friends for that one).
Wet Garden (I imagine this one smells like worms – oh wait – they have one called “Earthworm”, too! Yum)
Dirt (their description says that it “was made to smell exactly like the dirt from the fields around the Pennsylvania family farm belonging to our founding perfumer. “ So…manure, then?).
Cannibis (the motto for this one is “Smell it, don't smoke it.” Now, I don’t know about you but I spent a whole lot of time in college trying to not smell like weed. I think they need to go back to the drawing board and make a perfume that makes weed smell go away. They’d make a mint).
Paint (also known as “headache in a bottle”).
Holy Water (this one would clearly burn if I put it on).
Turpentine (seriously? At $20 an ounce, I’ll pass. If I want to smell like turpentine, I’ll buy a whole quart of it for $8.99).
Tarnish (I don’t even know).
Stable (Sweaty horse. No really – it says right on the description: “sweet animal sweat”).
Funeral Home (No really – FUNERAL HOME. I have never once said “It smells like a funeral home in here” and meant it as a compliment).
Of course, I guess I can’t complain too much about Demeter perfumes, considering there is a company out there that makes scents like “Fat Electrician” and one that has to do with “secretions”, another that makes vagina-scented perfume, and yet another where the creator makes perfume out of HIS OWN SHIT. Delightful.
Don't forget folks - today is Election Day and you need to get out there and vote. Seriously. Here are some reasons why:
1. Because someone is talking about raising your taxes or reassessing your property or cutting your benefits or taking your land or raising your energy costs or lowering your wages or eliminating your job. Vote.
2. Because you love to run your big fat mouth about the government, and the problems in your country or state or city or borough. Vote.
3. Because we all should have the right to get married. Vote.
4. Because you're sick of making 75 cents on the dollar (or 68 or 57) compared to your white male counterpart.
5. Because even though you believe in God (or not), you understand that he doesn't belong in our schools. Besides, if he's in your heart, you don't need someone to lead you to him during recess anyway. Or because you think he does belong there. Vote.
6. Because you have no social life and fucking with the last-minute campaign workers is fun. As they thrust their literature at you, hand them your card. Or a losing lottery ticket. Or a playing card. Or a tootsie pop. Or a scientology brochure. Have fun with it. Vote.
7. Because there are people in government who will outright lie about statistics in order to further their agenda that will result in illness and death of poor and uninsured women. Vote.
8. Because if some politicians have their way, women and girls who are victims of rape and incest seeking abortions will have to prove it to the IRS or be audited. Vote.
9. Because there's nothing on TV at that time anyway. Vote.
10. Because you're damned sick and tired of hearing about more and more (and more) casualties. Vote.
11. Because voting is HOT! Vote.
12. Because the US Supreme Court is upholding a school’s decision to kick a teenage rape victim off the cheerleading squad for refusing to cheer for her convicted rapist. And making her pay $45,000 in the school’s court cost. Vote.
13. Because you can. Vote.
14. Because you should. Vote.
15. Because the notion that blind allegiance = patriotism needs to abolished once and for all. Vote.
16. Because we are still blaming the victim. Even though the victim is 11 and she was raped by 18 men. Vote.
17. Because regardless of what you thought of the outcome, Election 2000 should never happen again. Vote.
18. Because too many people are still displaced in the southeast US. Vote.
19. Because poverty is still a huge problem in the US. Vote.
20. Because I said so. Vote.
21. Because breathing other people's smoke sucks. Vote.
22. Because you want control over your own body. Vote.
23. Because no book should ever be banned. Vote.
24. Because not many of us can afford college. Vote
25. Because more than 40 million Americans are without health insurance. Think this doesn't affect you? You're wrong. These people end up using emergency rooms for basic healthcare, which clogs up the system, resulting in inferior care and increased costs for everyone. Vote.
26. Because over 17 million children in the US go to bed hungry every night and don't know when their next meal will come. Vote.
27. Because that Native American from the 70s? Still crying. Vote.
28. Because you do not need an AK47 to kill a deer. Vote.
29. Because almost 50 years later, we're still not judging people by the content of their character. Vote.
30. Because the suffragettes and the civil rights workers didn't their bust their asses for you to sit on yours. Vote.
31. Because as much as it sucks, picking the lesser of the two evils is better than letting everyone else pick for you. Vote.
So, in case you didn't get me: Please Vote.
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Considering that I don't run - ever (I'm saving up all my running for a time when it really matters - like a zombie apocalypse) and that her brother used to look at clouds and play in dirt on the soccer field, I was a little surprised at The Girl's skills. She plays all out and is not afraid to get in there and go after the ball.
Just don't tell her about that time Brandi Chastain ripped off her shirt on the soccer field. I have enough trouble on my hands with this one.
Parents all have the same worst fear - something happening to their kids. We all seem to know someone, whether in person or online, who has gone through the devastating experience of having a child with a life threatening illness. And most of us have cried for them, prayed for them, hoped and wished that we could do something to help them. Some of us have walked and marched and fund-raised and donated to help the charities that help these families, all the while trying to fathom the unfathomable - the possibility of losing a child.
Even if we can't understand what it it like, we can imagine it - while we don't intimately know the worry and pain and terror, the mere thought of it brings tears to our eyes - sympathy for the children themselves, for the parents, for the siblings who don't understand.
But if you thought that having a child with a life threatening illness was the worst thing a parent could endure, just imagine if you had it happen to two of your children. At the same time.
That's what happened to Laura Boyd, back in 1999. In mid-December 1999, the unthinkable happened - her son Adam was diagnosed with Stage IV Neuroblastoma. And then the just a week later - the even more unthinkable happened - her daughter Amanda was diagnosed with Stage III Neuroblastoma. One moment, they were a normal family, getting ready for Santa to visit and the next, they were a family going through every parent's worst nightmare TIMES TWO.
Amanda is now a healthy, happy teenage girl. But sadly, Adam lost his battle on January 8, 2004. And since then, Laura has made it her life's work to raise awareness and support of The Children's Neuroblastoma Cancer Foundation. It is her sincere hope that one day, no one will ever have to endure what her family did, and if her work helps contribute to that goal, then it is not in vain.
So what does she do?
She runs.
She runs to raise money. She runs to raise awareness.
She runs for their lives.
She started a running group, which has developed into Team Odyssey. And on May 15th, Team Odyssey will be running in the Pittsburgh Marathon to help The Children's Neuroblastoma Cancer Foundation help families like her own.
If you have a few bucks to spare, visit Team Odyssey's donation page and help them reach their goal.
Here is a segment on Pittsburgh Today Live that featured Laura and Team Odyssey (and another parent running for the same cause):
If that doesn't work, click this link
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I was walking through the house when The Boy went hustling past me in a hurry. I asked where he was going and he said, "There's no toilet paper in our bathroom, so I am going in yours." Now, I don't have a problem with him using my bathroom, but mine is old and small and ugly and the kids have a nice, new, big bathroom. Plus, it irritates me that he is so lazy that he would walk all the way across the house to my bathroom, rather than just grabbing a new roll for his.
So I told him that I didn't care if he used my bathroom, but that he needed to get a new roll and put it in his. He said OK and that was the end of it.
Or so I thought until a few hours later when I was in my bathroom and reached for the paper, only to discover that the the new roll he took into his bathroom? Came from my bathroom dispenser.
Remember the tick? Yeah, me too. The moment is burned in my brain. In fact, it was burned into my brain on Saturday when I sat at my friend's kitchen table and casually ran my fingers through my hair and found - wait for it - another fucking tick! And this time, it was embedded in my head!!!!!!!
With apologies to burghbaby (but this warrants it):
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Hopefully the evil little fucker didn't leave me with any horrible after effects. You know, other than the Disturbing, Paralyzing, Constant, Nausea-Inducing, Head-Scratching Paranoia
I was reading @burghbaby’s post the other day about 80s toys and how they have led to many failures in life and my first thought was “I’m old”. No really. Because I didn’t have toys in the 80s – I had toys in the 70s When 80’s kids were playing with Strawberry Shortcake, we 70s kids were taking drinking beer in a barn somewhere. When 80s kids were playing with Cabbage Patch Dolls, we 70s kids were taking the SATs. When 80s kids were playing with Transformers, we 70s kids were researching birth control (by which I mean NOT researching birth control – teens are notoriously stupid). And while 80s toys may have caused failure, 70s toys were known to maim and kill. For instance:
Click-Clacks (or Clackers, Klackers, etc):
They were 2 hard acrylic balls on strings that you would hang on your finger. Then, you’d move your hand up & down and they would “clack” against each other loudly. It was quite fun until you hit yourself in the face with them and broke your orbital bone.
Slime:
This one was only dangerous when you inevitably got it in the carpet and your mom lost her mind.
The Streaker:
This was one of my favorite toys as a child. It was two long nylin ropes threaded through a football-shaped hard plastic ball. At the four rope ends there were handles that each player would hold. You would spread your hands apart, whicih would send the ball “streaking” towards the other player, whou would them send it back. The object of this game seemed to be to get that thing going as fast as possible and catch your opponent off-guard so it would slam against their hands and hopefully break some fingers.
Ice Bird:
This was a snow cone maker. You froze a block of ice and then used a bird with a scary ass garter on the bottom to shave the ice. I don't know about you, but I have shavced off my knuckles a ton of time while grating cheese, etc. Cheese is soft, and this grater was strong enough to grate ice.
Suzy Homemmaker Oven:
This was similar to the easy bake oven, but it was more awesome, because instead of sliding the cake in a slot, it opened up like a real oven. This meant you could cook whatever you wanted – not just those little bullshit easy-bake cakes. This toy wasn’t super dangerous in and of itself (other than the fact that an oven for children = burns, but it became dangerous when my friend Sue and I cooked up one too many nasty-assed concoctions and my grandma started making us eat them. That? Was deadly.
Creepy Crawlers:
Oh how I loved my Creepy Crawler maker (I had a thing for a lot of “boy toys” – I had about 5 slot car sets). This was a toy that allowed you to make your own rubber-like bugs, by pouring a liquid “goop” into die-cast molds. But see - the metal molds on this thing heated up to approximately 23 thousand degrees. I think I still bear scars from that toy.
Incredible Edibles:
These were the same as the creepy Crawlers, only you could eat them. Burns on the hands AND mouth.
Paddle Talk:
This was a plastic paddle that you took in the car. It had different messages that you could flip around and “talk” to other cars. The toy itself wasn’t dangerous, but showing the “Same to You Turkey!” or “Get Off My Tail” to the wrong person could get your ass kicked. Not to mention that the rest of them where in the “You're Cute"/"Hot To Trot"/"Let's Park" vein and could get you molested.
Super Elastic Bubble Plastic:
That shit had to be toxic.
Krazy Kar:
I loved this with a passion. You sat in the middle and “pedaled” with your arms. This definitely wasn’t as dangerous as some of the other toys I owned - it didn’t heat up, or explode, or shoot your eye out, but you sat so low to the ground that no car could ever see you. And it had no brakes, so riding it down a hill pulled your arms off and sent you crashing into the neighbor’s bushes. Not that I’d know anything about that.
Jarts:
It’s like they wanted us dead. Irwin Mainway would be proud.
But as dangerous as the 70s toys were, it was even worse for the 60s kids. My Aunt Cee, who is a few years older than me, got this for Christmas one year:
The Big Burger Grill
That, my friends is a real, working grill. To cook burgers on. Somehow my aunt managed not to get 3rd degree burns or set the house on fire. But that may have been because she never really “got” the toy. It was intended to be a Christmas present, but she went snooping and found it before Santa could put it under the tree. Then she proceeded to open it, head down to the fridge for some ground meat, and cook up a burger and eat it. Then, being a child, it never occurred to her to clean the thing before she put it back in the box. Needless to say, when Santa was doing the wrapping, he smelled the telltale smell of cooked meat and got suspicious. Strangely, the box never appeared under the tree.
I could go on forever listing these – like the one I can’t remember the name of which was a silly-putty like substance in bright colors that you would throw against the wall and it would stick. My family was dangerous with that stuff – things got broken, people got beamed in the head. Good times.
But not all of the 70s toys were dangerous. I also have many fond memories of toys like Fidget:
And Shaker Makers:
And Fuzzy Wuzzy soap:
Tell me – what was your favorite 60s-70s toy? And was it dangerous?
On Easter, we sat at my aunt's house, talking about childhood injuries & illnesses and the talk turned to lice. I have been through that devil plague wit my kids and I can tell you that long after the infestation has been cleared, the effects will live with you for a long time - possibly forever. not your kids - your kids will be all, whatever two days later, but you'll be the one who - five years later - still loses my shit every time I feel even the tiniest itch on my head (and I didn't even have them!)
So anyway, I was telling everyone how I'm nuts and obsessive, and how I completely overreact if one hair as much as moves in the breeze and feels like a tiny tickle or itch. I immediately go into a several hour panic, scratching and feeling around in my scalp for what is obviously some kind of creepy crawly. And then we all laughed and laughed at how crazy I am.
And then Monday, I was sitting at my desk at work, ran my fingers through my hair, and discovered a tick.
A TICK!!!
IN MY HAIR!!!!!!!
Who's crazy now, bitches???
(OK, it's me - I'm still crazy. Because once you find a tick crawling around in your hair, it's pretty much crazytown from here on out. Of all thing to be right about, it had to be this one.)
The Girl & friend visiting my SIL, Weenie, at her work (a makeup counter):
The Girl: "Can we put on lip gloss?"
Weenie: "Sure - what color do you want?"
Friend: "We want red!"
The Girl: "Excuuuuse me, Friend, but YOU DO NOT SPEAK FOR ME! We'll take red, Weenie."
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Bathing suit shopping with my mother (gives you chills, doesn't it?):
Mom: "I don't like that one - it makes your boobs look huge."
Me: hmm
Mom: "I don't like that one - it makes your boobs look huge."
Me: *rolls eyes*
Mom: "I don't like that one - it makes your boobs look huge."
Me: sigh
Mom: "I don't like that one - it makes your boobs look huge."
Me: pfft
Mom: "I don't like that one - it makes your boobs look huge."
Me: *getting a headache*
Mom: "I don't like that one - it makes your boobs look huge."
Me: (silent) omgomgomgomg
Mom: "I don't like that one - it makes your boobs look huge."
Me: *trying not to kill anyone*
Mom: "I don't like that one - it makes your boobs look huge."
Me: *thinking about killing myself*
Mom: "I don't like that one - it makes your boobs look huge."
Me: "Mother - I have had these boobs for THIRTY YEARS - you should have accepted by now that they ARE huge!"
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After school:
The Girl: "Mom, someone wrote a bad word on the board today."
Me: "Really?"
The Girl: "Yep. You wanna know what they wrote?"
Me: "Sure - what did they write?"
The Girl" "They wrote the A-word!"
Me: "No way!"
The Girl: " Yes way. AND they put 'hole' on the end!"
Me: "Get out! I wonder who wrote it."
The Girl: "Maybe it was Charley - he probably thinks that's his name anyway, since that's what you call him all the time."
When it comes to struggling to manage work, home, kids, etc, something always suffers (I have finally accepted that I cannot be supermom), and for me, that thing tends to be meals. I try – I really do try – to have a healthy, home-cooked meal on the table every night, but I fail by a long shot. Time is a factor – I get home after work and often have a very short time before I have to run someone off to soccer practice or scouts, and that means cooking/eating quickly. And home-cooked and healthy don’t often go hand in hand with quick.
Add in the picky eaters in my house and it’s a recipe for disaster (or crappy, empty meals). When it comes to vegetables for instance, the girl loves green beans – she would eat them every day for every meal. The boy hates them. Mr b loves Brussels sprouts. The rest of us laugh at him when he suggests we have them. They’ll eat raw cauliflower and carrots, but gag at the thought of it cooked. They like broccoli cooked, but raw? No way. It’s enough to make you crazy. Or crazier, in my case.
And if I am being honest, I can be picky, too. There isn’t a lot that I won’t eat, but the things I don’t like, I really don’t like. I will continue to try foods I don’t like, because you never know. I eat a ton of things now that I didn’t eat as a child. Or that I didn’t eat even a few years ago. Beans, peppers & peas, for instance. But other things – not matter how many times I try, I can’t stomach – like peanut butter. And one of the main things that I won’t eat is the girl’s absolute favorite food in the world – fresh tomatoes.
Now, I love tomato sauce and Lord knows I think ketchup is a food group, but fresh tomatoes? I just can’t seem to develop a taste for them. But I try to work them into our meals as often as possible, because tomatoes are quite good for you.
Did you know that tomatoes and tomato products have been shown to help with reduce the risk of certain cancers, heart disease, ultraviolet light–induced skin damage, osteoporosis, and other conditions?
And that tomatoes contain high levels of carotenoid antioxidants such as lycopene, but also serve as a significant source of vitamin C, fiber and potassium (in fact, calorie for calorie, tomatoes contain more than twice the potassium of other common sources such as bananas, potatoes, milk and orange juice).
Tomatoes are so good for you that the 2010 Dietary Guidelines Advisory Committee outlined a new red-orange vegetable sub-group for Americans to provide a greater focus on tomatoes. This guideline can be easily met by consuming just one more half-cup serving of tomatoes each day.
Since I don’t eat fresh tomatoes, though, I thought that I probably wasn’t getting the health benefits, because fresh is always better, right?
Wrong.
It turns out that canned tomato products (which I do use regularly) are not only as good as fresh, in some ways, they can be better. While all tomatoes contain high levels of the powerful antioxidant lycopene – canned products such as tomato paste, tomato sauce and spaghetti sauce have approximately seven times more lycopene than raw tomatoes!
See – you learn something new every day!
Hunt’s has shared this information with me, so I can pass it on to you, along with a recipe showing that even crazy, busy, tired moms of even the pickiest eaters can manage to throw together something delicious AND nutritious and not lose our minds.
The problem with recipes is that I am not a recipe-style cook. I am a throw it together using the “dash of this” and “handful of that” method (which is why I suck at baking – it’s too much of an exact science), but I’m sure you all can figure it out – it’s quick, easy and delicious).
We have this pasta dish once a week, because we all love it (and I did have photos to go along with this, but then I lost all my sense and somehow deleted them from my camera). I dedicate this recipe to my grandma who – for years – watched me pick every tiny tomato morsel out of every dish she ever made.
You’ll need:
• 1 box of pasta (I prefer campanelle – it’s pretty, so it looks nice when you are serving it to guests, plus the shape of the pasta holds the flavors better)
• 3 red peppers, thinly sliced (sometimes I use combinations of red/yellow/orange – it tastes the same, but it’s pretty. And yes, I clearly have a thing about “pretty” food)
• 2 packages of sliced mushrooms (you can slice your own, but my own personal feelings about that are: HAHAHAHAHAHA – pre-sliced it is)
• 2 cans of Hunt’s diced tomatoes (I use the no-salt added because I like to control the salt, plus my family are food-salters, but they have a ton to chose from – they have diced with garlic, or with basil or balsamic or peppers or lots of other combinations - you can see them all here – but definitely use Hunt’s because theirs are the best quality – they go from vine to can in just hours and they use flash-steaming to remove the skins, which many other companies use LYE - ewww)
• Garlic – lots and lots of garlic (you can use fresh & mince it yourself, or do what I do – buy a jar of it already minced. You can use garlic powder if you want, but it’s not the same).
• Minced onion (or fresh, sliced onion if your kids won’t cry and whine and choke and gag and possibly convulse at the sight of an onion in their meal)
• Extra-virgin olive oil. (I suppose you could use the oil of your choice, but I am telling you in all honesty you want the extra virgin for the flavor. Or at the very least some sort of olive oil. Don’t ruin this with canola or vegetable oil – I’m begging you).
• Grated cheese- whatever you prefer – romano, parmesan, asiago (personally, all the cheeses are my favorite – I have made it with fontinella which was delicious, but my kids tasted the difference, and I sometimes make it with crumbled bleu, but only if it’s just for me because if you think the onions will make my kids cry/whine/choke/gag/convulse, hoo-boy, try giving them bleu cheese).
• Salt & pepper
Now here are my very technical directions:
• Cook the pasta to be al dente
• In the meantime, pour some oil in a large pan and throw in your minced garlic. At least a tablespoon, though I tend to use more – garlic is magic.
• Then add your sliced peppers & sauté.
• After a few minutes, add the sliced mushrooms & continue to sauté until the veggies are tender. You can add a little oil or even water if needed.
• (This will sound weird, but I tend to let my veggies start to brown/scorch a tiny bit, then I will throw in a little water – it will give everything a nice flavor and color)
• Mix in your Hunts diced tomatoes & sauté for a minute or so (they don’t really need to cook, so much as just incorporate the flavor.
• Once the veggies are done, add a little more oil and dump your drained pasta into the pan & toss it all together (this is why you need a large pan – of you don’t have one, you can always do the mixing in a large serving dish, but I like to get the pasta in the pan for a minute or two to really get the flavor in there), adding salt & pepper to taste.
• Before serving, I usually mix a little bit of the cheese into the pasta to get some melting cheesy deliciousness, and then have more on hand for each person to add some of their own.
• Enjoy!
• Also – you can use the veggie part of this recipe as a bruschetta topping and it’s delicious - just cut everything up a tiny bit smaller.
OK – here’s the legal stuff: I was contacted and am being compensated by Hunt’s and The Motherhood to do this post, but the opinions expressed are my own. We really do eat this recipe once a week and we love it. And I really do use Hunt’s tomatoes because they are the best. My grandma used Hunt’s, my mom uses Hunt’s, and now I do too.
I was emptying out The Girl's folder this morning and I came across a note written by her so-called "boyfriend". It read, "I'm sorry I made you mad. I will do anything!"
OMG
