Victoria's Secret needs a produce section

The other day, 3of3 and I went to the mall. To buy bras. See, I only own 2 bras. I just never think to buy them and when I have to, inevitably someone needs a new backpack or track shoes or another brand new set of golf clubs. Again. Bras are expensive. They have to be budgeted in. And I hate spending money on myself. Anyway, I finally decide that it had to be done, no matter what, so the baby and I head off to the mall. We stop for lunch first and then pop into another store to pick up a pair of pants for me because I am now wearing a size of pants that I ain't never gonna tell you, and then she starts screaming. Ugh.

What stops screaming? Chocolate ice cream cones, that's what.

We head to the undie store and she is now fully chocolate dipped, but she's happy. I have no idea what size bra I'm in these days, so it takes me a minute to look around and grab a few that look like they might work. She's still quiet, and so we press on.

About this point is when I start noticing a few women giving her looks, and then giving me looks, and not the "oh isn't she sweet" looks, either. A salesgirl walked by us and said "GOD. What happened to that kid?" A little toddler hand shoots out from the stroller and not only is it chocolate brown, it's pink on top of that. The little hand grabs a bra beside her. Her little hand leaves what looks like a paint print on the bra. I look in the front of the stroller and holy god in heaven the kid is up to her eyeballs in filth. It appears that she has gotten into my purse while I was looking at undies and grabbed my lipstick, lipstick that costs more than she does, and smeared it all over herself. Her eyelids, her ears, her whole face, the front of her shirt, her Crocs, everything is covered. The stroller is covered.

I. Could. Die.

At this point I decide that I have come this far and I am seeing this shit through. We go into the changing room and I get my top off and a bra on and she starts screaming at the very tip top of her lungs. SCREAMING. BLOOD F*#ING MURDER SCREAMING.

Nothing will stop her. I try to ask her please, to let momma do this one thing, that it's really important and that momma's boobies are so saggy that she's going to start wearing them as boots soon if she doesn't get a new bra or two and dear god child will you just stop with the crying for 2 more minutes and here's another tube of lipst......

And that's when I stopped. Sagging boobs be damned. I cannot replace that lipstick. They don't sell my brand in Canada.

I totally started crying.

What's a girl gotta do to get a bra around this joint?

She screamed all the way out of the mall, across the parking lot, into Safeway where we had to pick up some milk and the screaming continued without letup or sympathy from passers-by until we passed the apples.

*sniffle* Appool? Momma, appool. Wan appool." And that was it. No more crying, no nothing. Especially no bras.


Arizona passed a new law today. It's a big enough deal there that my sister in law called to tell me about it.

Beginning Wednesday, new penalties include mandatory ignition-interlock devices
for first-time offenders, increased fines and a minimum of 45 days in jail for
super extreme DUI convictions.



It's time to play Ruin My Kids' Life!

(First things first: Popcorn? Big fat Zero. They hated it. It gave them The Pukes.)

Being a housewife and a stay-at-home-mom gets lonely. Eventually it starts to wear at you, and you find yourself doing things, private things, things you are ashamed of, things you don't want anyone to know you've done.

Like watching SuperNanny. Please don't tell anyone.

So, I'm watching SuperNanny last night, and though I don't agree with a lot of things on that show, I always find something that makes me say "Huh?". Like last night, and something about chores. I had a whole post written about how I am struggling in the chores department and how maybe I needed some advice. And then SuperNanny came to the rescue.

She set up this system for the family in question with a fishbowl full of felt fish with magnets on them. Each one had a chore written on it. The kids took a homemade fishing pole (stick+magnet+string) and went fishing for chores. They each got 2, and then they did them.

It's brilliant.

My struggle is in assigning them chores and keeping it balanced. It's tempting to give 2of3 the easy ones, because, well, he's short. He's always going to be short. And 1of3 is really, oddly tall. They get a little pissy with me for picking chores that they don't think are fair. But this way, oh this way, this way it's off of me and onto fate. *clouds part, angels sing* I am SAVED!

So here's my question: What kinds of chores are good for a 9 and a 7 year old? It's not that I didn't have chores as a kid, it's just that my brother and I did EVERYTHING. We did all the cooking and all the cleaning and I don't think that my worldview on chores is realistic for normal children. And here's where you come in. I need to put, oh, 6-10 chores in this fishbowl and I would like to offer you the chance of a lifetime! The chance to make my poor, abused children suffer with HOUSEWORK. What chores did you do at that age? What did you wish your mom made you do when you became an adult and suddenly realized you had no clue how to do it?

Rules: I am never going to let them cook more than tacos. I will not let them use strong cleaners, like bleach or lye or anything. I can barely change the baby's diaper, so that one's out for the kids. Aside from that, it's open season on the boys' Wii time. Have at it.

45 kids are missing, and no one's talking

If any of you have, or know someone who has, gone through the process of international adoption, you will know that it ranks right up there with full-tilt Spice Girls in the world of inhumane torture. The pay off? Huge. The getting there? Horrifying. If you haven't, or you don't, please, just for today, throw away your preconceived notions about it. It's arduous. Not only do you end up paying the cost of a small civilization, you wait. And wait. And wait. Your country of choice just doesn't tell you anything, and they don't tell you anything for what can be years. The people who sign up for this do it for their own very personal reasons, reasons that are not ours to judge. In the end, they just want to be moms and dads. They just want a child. It's an uphill battle that I am watching a few friends go through right now, and I am totally in awe of those people.

Now, just've decided after a long and exhaustive process to adopt from, oh, say, Guatemala. You do everything you're asked to do, gotten all the proper DNA testing, things move along slowly, and then you finally receive word of your child. You start getting pictures. You put together the baby's room. You have a date set to go meet your son, and a date following that to bring him home. And then, one day, you find out that the government has raided the orphanage and are blocking the entrance, with assault rifles. And then you find out a week later that someone has come in the night and taken all 45 children out of the orphanage.

And that's all you hear. The children are just gone.

Until, of course, you hear that 9 of the babies have shown up in hospitals.

The problem here is that this is not a hypothetical situation. It's very real and very happening right now. How does this affect you? Not one bit, probably. But 9 out of 10 of you, dear readers, are in Denver and this is really affecting one Denver man, who happens to be one of my very best friends. 9News has run a story on this. You can also watch the interview here. Another families' story is here.

Casa Quivira is the adoption agency in question, and since this event there have been many statements coming out about how the children housed there were obtained illegally, how the care of the children is substandard, and so on. Now, there is precious little coming out of Guatemala about this, but the parents who have already adopted from there are saying loud and proud that these allegations are false and that their children were healthy and loved and cared for. Like this family:
With regard to the allegations that the children were in poor health before
"bienestar" took over - while I know that data is not the plural form of
anecdote - my pediatrician described my son (home from CQ in July) as "one of
the healthiest internationally adopted kids I've ever seen."
There is a battery of DNA testing run on the children, and I can't speak for anyone else, but I know that Russell's child's testing all matched the proper people.

The long story short is that 40-some children were taken in the middle of the night, and no one knows where they are. One of those children has a home in your community, with a wonderful man who just wants to be a dad. There is almost not one thing we can do about it, but we can
contact the Guatemalan Ambassador to the United States and ask questions. We can start talking about this. We can make a stir. Maybe we can spread the word through the Internet and get some answers. Even if they end up being the answers we don't want, some news is better than no news and missing children. And so, I guess I'm asking for your help in getting this around.

Here's the letter Russell has sent out to his elected officials. It's much more eloquent than I could ever hope to be.

I ask your help with a frightening and urgent situation. My name is Russell
Johnston and I am adopting a baby boy from Casa Quivira in Antigua, Guatemala.
Casa Quivira housed 45 babies and small children, and provided a peaceful and
loving sanctuary and exemplary care for these children, including formula, food,
medicine, and most of all, individual and specialized attention. The care Casa
Quivira provided our children has been witnessed by other adoptive parents that
have visited Casa Quivira personally, along with video feeds and pictures we
have all seen of the orphanage.
On August 11, 2007, the Guatemalan government
conducted an unannounced, forceful and violent raid on Casa Quivira, and are now
standing outside the orphanage doors with assault rifles. The government took
over complete control of the orphanage and it’s inhabitants and arrested
orphanage attorneys illegally. Subsequently, the care and attention to the
children and cleanliness of the orphanage has deteriorated rapidly since the
government took control. The President’s Office on Social Welfare refuses to
allow orphanage workers to administer such basic things such as medicine, food,
formula, and hygienic care. These children were perfectly healthy in Casa
Quivira’s care before the government’s raid. Since the government took control,
9 of the 45 babies have been hospitalized.
Last night (August 23, 2007) the
situation became even more frightening. The Social Welfare Department removed
all children from Casa Quivira and have taken them to unknown location(s) –
nobody knows where they are. Most of these babies legally belong to their
adoptive families here in America, including my son, Luis Alberto Hernandez.
They also removed all the caretakers from Casa Quivira. This situation continues
to worsen daily and now seriously threatens the innocent lives of 45
I desperately need the following help from you. Please contact the
Guatemalan Ambassador to the United States, Honorable Guillermo Castillo, and
specifically ask Mr. Castillo the three following questions.
1. Why were the
children removed from Casa Quivira?
2. Where specifically were they
3. What is being done to advance the investigation of cases at Casa
Honorable Castillo’s contact information is:
Fax: 202-745-1908
If Ambassador Castillo hears from our
elected officials repeatedly, hopefully he will take action to obtain this
This is a dire and urgent situation. I ask that you, as my
elected official, do something in your power immediately to locate my infant
Parents involved in apotions in Guatemala are sounding off here.

Rate the Hate the Third

(The I only cooked dinner once this whole week edition)
Hey mom, what's this?

Um, popcorn.

No it's not; this is popcorn.
Oh, sweet children, come sit on your momma's knee and let her tell you a story....

A long time ago, back in the Stone Age, when your mother was young and Michael Jackson was black (*gasp*), the world was a very different place. TV was, like, four channels (one child passes out). We all had overdeveloped Extensor Digitorium muscles from changing the channels and using the phone by turning a dial. There was this noise in the phone if someone you were calling was on the line already, and it sounded like Armageddon. Computers were boxes the size of Topeka in rooms that your grandfather worked in. A few people got to have computers at home, like your grandfather, and they weighed more than the 3 of you combined, but had a handle and so they felt convenient, and if you wanted to play chess you had to write the code in DOS (which I could, because I rocked), and if you looked at the screen for long enough the whole world turned black with hot green dots. People had as many remote controls as they had children with hands, and there were NO MICROWAVES.

Yes, dears, people actually took dried up bits of corn and put them into pots with scorching hot oil in the bottom and waited. And then the kernels popped, higher and higher. If you were smart lazy, you just bought Jiffy Pop, but most people did it this way. One day someone invented an air-popper, and then later came the glorious microwave. All so you could have a snack, dears. The world loves you.

But, mawwwwm, what did it taste like?

Wanna know? I'll make you some right now.

(pop poppedy pop)

The question is: Do you think they ate it? Or, to make it easier, on a scale of 1-10, how much do you think they hated it? 1 being Best. Snack. Ever. and 10 being We're Called Child Services and the Food Network to tell on you, you horrible, horrible woman.