A poem for my living room carpet:
They said you were dirty
but what did they know
I’ve cared for you plenty
and boy does it show
You’re not even black yet
just a dingy grey
I swore that I’d steam you
one of these days
Then a cranky toddler
had fits he did throw
got time out, and got back
at Mom with Pee Shows.
Oh carpet, it soaked in
and I waited too long
I steamed you last night
now you smell like burnt schlong (??? sorry, it rhymed)
Another Mom Lesson
with answers you seek:
don’t let it soak in! when
you do clean, it REEKS.
Like, after you do it because you are a cheap bastard.
Last year, I decided to really start teaching Braden to wash his hands on his own – meaning that he’d do all steps without my assistance/intervention. Previously, I’d turn on the water, put the soap in his hands, rub them together… you get the drift.
In order to make it easier on him and cheaper on our budget, I decided that a foaming soap dispenser was a good idea. That way he’d have instant lather, instead of having to create it from goopy soap. I figured it would really save on soap, too, since he wouldn’t be sliming his hands excessively if he had the foam.
I was right. It was easier on him not having to create lather. Now, figuring out that he had to have the other hand under the pump when he pressed it down? THAT WAS THE HARD PART. Hah!
By the time he was a pro at it, the dispenser was almost empty. I eyed the bottle of Method Green Tea & Aloe Hand Soap that was up on top of the cabinet where he couldn’t reach it, longingly. But no, I didn’t want him Gooping!
Then it hit me: the stuff in the foaming dispenser really just looked like heavily watered down soap. So I tried it… I put in a small amount of soap and filled the rest of the dispenser up with water.
TOTALLY WORKED. And now we all wash our hands with that soap! We’re using way less soap for hand washing, which is cool and it falls under the “Reduce” category of Eco-Friendliness.
It will also save ya some bucks. They charge way more than they should for the watered down soap in the foam dispensers, so just buy that ONCE and then refill it yourself. And of course, if you choose an Eco-Safer soap like Method, or Lemon-Brite, you’re also treating Mother Earth kind by not dumping chemicals all up on her shiznite.
Do you have an article or post about something “green” that you do in your home, or on Eco-Friendly tips? Please feel free to link to it on the Mr. Linky below.
I used to do this type of post once a month, and it’s called Project Support Beauty in Nature. You can click that link (or the tab on the navigation bar under the website header) to read all about it, how it developed, and see a list of past posts and participants. I have had the project on hiatus for several months while I tried to find the emotional energy to write more again.
I’m happy to say, the project is back up and “airs” the 2nd Monday of every month.
Please feel free to add your “green” link to the Mr. Linky (just below) in this post anytime for the rest of this week.
The potty has moved
slowly across the first floor
towards the bathroom
for a short time now,
and yesterday something cool
happened in that room.
A certain little
boy ran in, looked around and
chose the higher stool.
He WANTS to pee on
the toilet now and can do
it all by himself!
Now if we can just
address this annoying thing
called “shitting in pants.”
It’s a word that causes cliche
to flood through my mind and still
those things I cherish and value
can’t be labeled as cliche and tossed aside
I hold him and him dear; they are my world
Things happen in life to make you realize
that every day with the blessing of love
ticks by so fast, if we let it
It is easy to sing a song of pain
and hold on to heartache
It is easy to ignore love as
the way things should be
Let the cliches fill your mind
let yourself get caught up in the meaning
the word evokes in you
And live it.
I would have written an actual post, but this monster wore me out today.
Seriously, there are some days when I have nothing left after the five million and sixth high pitched scream. I just want to bang my head against the wall and wonder, “Why, oh why, did I ever procreate?”
I have to look at cute pictures that make me remember what a love-munch he can be and then go to sleep, and hope for a better day to follow.
What do you do to stop from popping the little head off your tantrumer/screamer/brat?
I am always the new girl. Having moved five times in the past nine years, I’ve regrettably had to embrace the title and challenges that go along with being the new girl. Even right now, guest blogging, I’m the new girl, in an unfamiliar place, trying to impress people I don’t know. Am I being witty enough? Are they just sticking around because they know I’m alone and would feel bad leaving? At least here I can’t read your eyes and see that you’d really rather be hanging out with Lotus.
So right now I’m in the market for a lady friend. I know the hows and wheres to finding new friends. Most of it involves doing things I’m kind of sick of doing like putting myself out there or being a joiner or being friendly. I could join a MOMS Club or MOPS, but that would mean lots of fretting about what to wear and what to say. And there’s the whole “I hate leaving the house with my children” aspect. Then once I’ve gotten the nerve up to actually get out of the car and walk into a place without knowing a soul and making polite, but awkward conversation, well, it really all sounds like too much effort.
It would be nice if I could just sit back and have new friends come to me for once. I KNOW that won’t happen, though. Hello! I’ve lived in Tennessee for three months and the Friend Fairy hasn’t delivered even one friend to my doorstep.
It doesn’t seem like making friends should be so hard. I mean, I should be able to see a nice mom at the food court in the mall, go up, say “hello,” make small talk about our kids’ poop, exchange phone numbers, meet for lunch with the kids later in the week at that McDonald’s with the clean(er) play area, laugh and gossip, have our husbands meet each other at a bar-b-que on Saturday. Voila! Friends!
Or why can’t all of my friends who live in my laptop just magically appear when I need a friend to hang out with on the couch and watch trashy reality TV?
It’s just not that easy when it comes to making friends with women.
Wouldn’t it just be less effort to put an ad in the paper?
33 year old married women with two small children seeks female for friendship ONLY. Must enjoy some shopping, chatting on the phone, long walks in the park. Flexibility a must, as shopping will most likely get canceled because of a sick child, chatting on the phone will include many interruptions from said children, and walks in the park will actually be chasing toddlers around the park screaming at them not to eat the discarded goldfish crackers from someone elses picnic. Picky eaters, close-minded jerks, people I can’t mention my blog to, Cubs fans, Twilight fans who insist I must read the remaining 3 books need not apply.
Hee, hee! JUST KIDDING about the last two. See? Just proves my point that making friends with women is brutal.
When Jennifer isn’t trolling for hot chicks to date looking for friendly women to pal around with, she’s entertaining all of us virtual friends over at her website, Playgroups Are No Place For Children. I’ve read her posts ever since I started checking out this blogosphere, and she never fails to entertain and inspire me. I’d feel lucky to have the Friend Fairy deliver her to me, any day.