My Parenting is so full of WIN.

My children recently had their semi-annual plaque scraping and professional tooth polishing appointment.  Even scheduled early in the day, we spend most of our morning there.  Three kids, three cleanings, one oral hygienist...Yeah.  It takes a long-ass time.  

 We came prepared, having brought a backpack filled with crayons, coloring books and reading materials, but it was the Mancala board that got the most use:

Mancala Tournament: Hour Two

By the time the last child was released with healthy teeth and gums, we were nearly starving.  I promised to feed the heathen spawn, so we headed to McDonald's.  (Where else can I poison my family for under twenty dollars?) On the way there, the girls decided that British accents were just what our boring old car ride needed.  The next twenty minutes on the interstate were very entertaining.  Did you know that anything and everything is not just funny in a horribly exaggerated accent, but freaking hilarious?

The fun didn't stop when we reached the drive-thru at McDonald's.  

While I wasn't savvy enough to order the food in my semi-convincing accent, I did greet the cashier who took my money with an enthusiastic "Ello Guvn'a!" making Madison nearly shoot a snot rocket at the windshield trying to stifle her laughter, while the two in the back brayed like donkeys.

Having still not had enough fun, we kept it up all the way home, the hilarity of the situation causing the two smallest campers to increase their volume with each word they spoke.  Finally, I had to ask them to bring it down a notch, saying, "You know what, guys? I don't think they yell everything in Great Britain. I can't recall the last time I heard someone announce: "IT'S TIME FOR TEA!"

Just then, the high pitched, and overly affected voice of Samantha piped up from the back of the van and yelled, "MERRY CHRISTMAS, BITCHES!!!"

I'm still trying to decide whether that's a parenting fail or a parenting win.

 

Which do you suppose it is?

 

 

(If you are guilty of grinning at this, please share it with your friends.  If you thought it was a ridiculous waste of your time, share it with your enemies.)

 

 

I don't need Hallmark to tell me you love me.

It's Mother's Day.   Sugar Daddy had already left for work, but when I came downstairs, I found this note waiting for me on the computer.  

I know this means that he probably forgot to buy me a card, but you know what?  I don't need Hallmark to tell me how special I am to him when he's got the means to link words together all pretty like that.  

I do love that man.  So as Elliot said regarding E.T., "I'm keeping him."

This was my note:

For my Wife on Mother’s Day:

No fancy card is going to convey how proud I am that you are the Mother of our children. You help raise them with their best interests in mind. You do so much for them that I could never do, or do as well, like hair, “girl-talk” make-up, etc.. Since I work a lot, it’s so nice, and comforting, to know that there is stability here at home provided by you.

We are all thankful for what you do as Queen of this castle. WEAR YOUR CROWN PROUDLY TODAY!!

Love,

Gidget

To answer the question his closing words put in your mind, yes, I call him Gidget.  He's also often referred to as Princess Stephanie.   And sometimes Sharon.

*shrug*

It amuses me.

 

 

Did you get anything meaningful this Mother's Day?

 

 

Are you SURE that's a vagina?

For those of you who are teaching your kids the generic "girls have a vagina" lesson, you ARE teaching them that the proper term for the entire outer package is vulva and not vagina, right? I mean, you know that the words are not synonymous, don't you?  

Just in case, let me give you a quick anatomy lesson. 

Vagina and vulva are not the same thing.  They are not interchangeable physiological terms.

The vagina is part of the inner workings, not the outer.


I asked this question on a social networking forum and got a variety of responses including this one:

"My child is too young to know the technical terms for her body parts." (Ignore the fact that the pet name we have created for her genitalia is four syllables long and she's already made up a song about it.)

And this one:
"Vulva is just a gross word."   (Vulva is not a gross word.  "MOIST" is a gross word.)  
  
And also this one: "It all means the same thing."

(To say that it's all the same thing is as inaccurate as saying that your hand is a finger and your finger is a hand and that's just plain silly.)

You know what this post needs?  Venn Diagrams!  (I know they look like crazy cartoon breasts.  Shut up.)

It's true that all rectangles are parallelograms, but not all parallelograms are rectangles.  
Likewise, all vulvae contain vaginas (or rather, the vaginal opening), but all vaginas don't contain the vulvae.

Yes, there is a difference and the difference is huge.  Vulva = clitoris, labia (2 sets) urethra, vaginal opening.  Vagina = the canal that leads from the vaginal opening to the cervix.   

Do you need another diagram?  Okay, here:  

So if you choose to shave your vulva, that's cool.  Get creative. Have fun with it.  However, if you choose to shave your vagina, it's not going to end well.  Don't use the good towels. 


Now, I know there will be someone who will get all worked up about this. Calm down. You can teach your kids whatever you want.  Don't sweat it because some stranger on the internet told you that it's the wrong word.   You're not breaking any law of child rearing.  No member of the Vulva Brigade will show up and ticket you for referring to your lady bits as your bajingo and hand you some reading material about the inaccurately named Vagina Monologues. I'm not going to take away your euphemisms.  Hell, euphemisms are fun!  Tell them it's a Harvey Wallbanger or a FlufferNutter if you like.   


I'm just saying that technically, it's incorrect.  


To recap:

The vulva is the correct term for the outside parts as a collective whole.

The vagina is the correct term for the "collective hole".  

What's your favorite euphemism for the VULVA?

  

  

Penis De Milo Lawn Art Update! New Sighting!

I know you've all been wondering what became of the mannequin pieces I wrote about HERE, and then wrote about again HERE and once more HERE.

Well, look who I found!

Found ya, sweetcheeks.

I love Soylent Green because I love people!

Kitchens.  They are the most common room (apart from nurseries) to have some sort of theme.  Some have rooster themes,  some have Italian or French cuisine themes, some have nostalgic 1950's diner themes, some have specific colors that evoke a theme.  The list is endless and spans generations, marking its territory with mushroom-shaped cookie jars and olive or rust-colored appliances along the way.   

Not many people choose cannibalism as a kitchen theme.  

I did.

It wasn't always this way.  When we first moved into this house, "apples" was my theme.  That's it.  Just "apples".    Plain, boring, non-threatening...apples.   But they were everywhere!  I had apples at the end of the ceiling fan pull chains, I had apple clocks and salt shakers and numerous cookie jars (on an apple-lined shelf).  I even painted them on the cabinets. (Side note:  Metal Cabinets are an abomination and should not exist ever, as they are horrifically evil, but that's a post for another day.) 

The kitchen was so ridiculously covered that I eventually developed an aversion to the fruit.  I was sick to death of those frigging apples, but I kept that theme for YEARS.

The apple theme was going full-throttle 
before any of these people inhabited my uterus.

Eventually, I redid the kitchen and something inside me said, "For the love of all that is holy, get rid of the godforsaken apples!  Every kitchen doesn't need a theme!"
However, in my desire to go theme-less, I inadvertently chose one anyway: cannibalism. 

My utensil crock of fabulousness.

It's flecked with Soylent Green paraphernalia.  

My soylent sign.

Mmm...chicken.

Yeah, I guess "Soylent Green" accurately describes my theme.    

But, wait! I have this great spoon-rest, too:

"Would you like more mutton, Clarice?"

So make that "Soylent Green and Friends".    Whatever.  I'm just glad I got rid of those frakking apples.  

I'm really more of a people person anyway.

What did YOU choose? 

Don't Arm Your Food

Alternate title: NO means "NO" - A Lesson In Self-Control 

Pizza seduces me. It tempts me with its slightly browned cheese and its rich and nommable tomato sauce. It whispers, "Eat me" and without hesitation I do. I can't help myself.

I had a(nother) piece of pizza at dinner tonight, despite the annoying little voice that said,

"No, Erika. Put that back. You don't want another slice."

I ignored that voice and went for the second helping:

"Add more crushed red pepper! Mama-Mia, I like-a the spicy pizza!"

*shake-a shake-a shak-AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!! MYEYESITBURNSMYEYESOWOWOWOWOW!!!*

Yes. In my fevered frenzy of seasoning, the smallest particles of (really) crushed red pepper caught the wind of the ceiling fan and...I peppered myself.

Ow.

_ _ _ _

After about ten minutes of flushing my very sore, very red eyes under the bathroom faucet and cursing the employees of McCormick Spices and their offspring and their offspring's offspring and anyone who knew their offspring's offspring, I spent another ten minutes enduring watery eyes and an uncontrollably runny nose. I now understand what it is that pepper spray will do to an assailant.

I have learned my lesson. If I insist on forcing myself on the pizza, I MUST NOT ARM THE PIZZA. (Clearly, I was asking for it.) Better yet, I should steer clear of that Italian-American tease and never think of it again.

"NO" means "NO". I get that now.

I guess I didn't really want that piece of pizza after all. Now that I think about it, it probably had a parasite in its pepperoni.

(Ah-HA! Did you see what I did there? I rejected the pizza, it didn't reject me. I dumped it first, therefore I win. Humph!)

Slut. 

My Review of Hand-Painted Striped Stoneware

Originally submitted at Brylane Home

Hand-Painted Stoneware Brightens Your Table! A Brylane Home Kitchen® exclusive! Sunny striped 16-Pc. Dinnerware Set features salad and dessert plates centered by tangy colors-green, blue, red or yellow - so each place setting is unique! Includes 4 each: 10¼'' dinner plate, 7¼...

Hand-Painted Striped Stoneware

BUY THESE DISHES!

By randomninja-writerofwrongs.blogspot.com from Where You Least Expect Me on 4/7/2012

 

5out of 5

Pros: Easy To Clean, Awesome, Unique, Durable, Attractive Design, Nice Weight

Cons: Unfit for zombie warfare

Best Uses: Informal Meals, Decorative

Describe Yourself: Stylish

I bought two sets of these dishes last year and I'm still in love with them. They have not chipped, scratched or broken at all. The colors are fantastic. If I somehow managed to smash half the set, I would buy another in a heartbeat. They're just that cool.

Additionally, in the boxes of the two sets I bought, one mug was missing a handle. It had been broken during shipment, I believe, or perhaps during packaging. I contacted Brylane Home about this and they sent me a replacement mug that very week. (The broken mug made an excellent pencil cup, so I kept it.) I commend the customer service on their resolution of this problem. What an awesome company!

(legalese)

It's that time of year again...

STOP! PICNIC TIME!

I like picnics.  Sure, I mean, who doesn't?  

I can hear you now, my Ninja Babies:  "I love picnics!"  "Ooh, picnics?  I love them so much I want to marry them!"  "Picnics, YAY!"

There is a fashionable way for every picnic enthusiast to be ready at a moment's notice, should the opportunity and/or chocolate cake present itself.  

These are called Picnic Pants and you must have them.   

Fabulous, aren't they?  And they don't limit themselves to only picnic use.  Think about it.  How many times have you been at a party and had no chair or table on which to place your plate of nommable deliciousness and wished you could have a table appear out of nowhere?  (I know, John.  Seven.  It was rhetorical.  Put your hand down.)  How many times have you wanted to launch grapefruit into the street?  (Again, John, rhetorical.)

Anyone who doesn't think these are the best pants ever obviously failed to notice that nifty CUP HOLDER on the side!  I mean, come on, people.  That's freaking cool.

I know what you're thinking:  MC Hammer already made these pants popular in 1990. 

I'll admit I thought the same thing when I first saw them, but no, MC Hammer did NOT invent Picnic Pants.  These people did.  And boy, am I glad!  Imagine the possibilities!

  

I may have to create my own line of picnic wear, come to think of it.  Maybe I can market a pair of cargo pants with extra large rear pockets for carrying your picnic supplies.  I'll call them Junk In Your Trunk.

So get these pants, people.  The next time you're left standing at a party and someone offers you a piece of chicken, your lips may want to say no, but your hips will say:

♫ dunt-dunt-dunt-da-nun-nunt, dunt-da-nuh-nuht, dunt-da-nuh-nuht...♫

Stop!  Picnic time!