Bits & Pieces

Tidbits and snippets of life the last few days...

To the man at the post office sporting a rather lethal tan, please note that our government has not turned on you and the American people simply because the sad little postal annex (not an actual post office) does not stock flag stamps right now. Really. The U.S. Government is not trying to ban the image of the American flag.

I checked snopes for you.

You can rest easy now- preferably in a sticky chaise lounge or tanning bed I'm sure. Your ten minute tirade to the clerk and all of us waiting in line (especially me, you know the lady with the toddler holding her chotch.) was completely unnecessary.


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Dear Local Pool Patrons:

It came to my attention this past weekend that my melon ball of a stomach is terrifically white. I apologize for any blinding I might have caused you. Please know it was not my intention to scare your small children with my pasty after-life type glow. I am in fact, very much alive and I am not some sort of pool zombie looking to devour your children's brains to feed my own spawn.

I would however, very much like to eat any and all of their snacks.


Signed,
Mummy

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To be filed under products I will NEVER review (nice try though.)

Poo-Pourri.

The ideal new purse essential is how it was pitched to me.

Because you never know when you are going to have to take a big, stinky poo in a unisex bathroom. Or something like that.

Seriously, folks you can't make this sh*t up. Pun intended.

Poo-Pourri comes in two delightful scents- Royal Flush and No. 2

Yes, they did go there.

It's a Freakin' Bonanza Today. OK I Lie.

Without getting all Debbie Downer on you all I'm keeping this brief. I'm going on a return visit to the collision center with my car. I have a bone to pick with them and they better let me bend their ear. Seems that my shiny new high gloss bumper (that got rear-ended a month ago) is now permanently ATTACHED to my gate latch. That would be the trunk on my SUV. Yup. Can't open it. At. all. Is Stuck.

Am. Livid.

Was really pissy on Friday night when I was out in the rain trying to crawl around feeling for the emergency latch to open the gate and put the stroller back in while T.D. cried and then poured milk on herself. Awesome times indeed.

Add to that the fact that now the car thinks a door is open continuously and I am hating my car right now and can frequently be heard mumbling about the Murphey's Law of it all. I feel like I'm miming for my neighbors about how to open a trunk each time I go to my car.

So I'm pulling a Sarah today. Answer the following questions in the comment section below.

1. Where was your first date?

2. Worst movie ever?

3. Favorite television show as a kid?


GIVEAWAY time on MPR. Find out what a PakNak is and head on over there to win a cool prize!

And I Was Worried About Princess Costumes

Silly me. Just last week I told my mother it was a-ok to buy T.D. costumes but just NO DISNEY PRINCESSES. I said yes to fairies and would actually rather her wear something off a clearance rack from a Halloween store. Bottle of Ketchup? Sure. Hershey Kiss? That is fine with me. Jasmine from Aladdin? Whoa there! Wait just a minute.

I have a rule in our house about toys like this. No princesses, no divas and no queens. I don't like commercialized bedding or clothing either. A Dora t-shirt. Not in this house. I highly discourage people buying this stuff for T.D. for many reasons. First, I think it looks cheap. Second, as if there isn't enough advertising thrown at kids. Why continually have it in my house? I'm getting off track here. I'm really worried about the whole Princess Mentality with T.D. I guess after reading this article I should be more worried about her overall wardrobe choosiness.

When I read this, "Ten-year-old Ashley Parks said she admires the Pussycat Doll look.
I like how it's sexy," she said." I about puked into my coffee. At ten I had no idea what sexy was. I just knew I wanted to have long flowing hair and I would wear a turtleneck on my head with the shirt flowing down my back to make my "hair" longer. The fact that people buy and companies make (because people buy them!) padded bras, pimpwear and thongs for the under 10 set is so disturbing to me. We worry so much about the safety of our neighborhoods and have websites tracking where pedophiles live yet we buy thongs and teeny tiny skirts and cleavage revealing tops for our six year-olds? Low riders for four year-olds? Doesn't anyone recall that a pimp is not something to aspire too?

I wore my first thong to my Sr. Prom because I knew that VPL is a fashion no-no. I wasn't trying to be sexy. That damned thing was uncomfortable. My white little 17 year old butt hadn't seen the sun since I was a toddler so who would deem that sexy? Besides I still wasn't into the whole looking sexy thing even then. I wanted to be beautiful in a classic Jackie O/Grace Kelly type of way. I wanted grace, elegance, a Chanel suit and big sunglasses. Guess I was a total tool who didn't know fashion according to these girls.

I really think the whole thing that bugs me about this tarted up toddler look is that it warps the young kids mind. Being sexy is a state of mind not just the clothes you wear. Having them dress like that so young puts so much emphasis on how a kid looks and not what they can do or be. It's incredibly sad to me. The parents are letting a company and a child dictate so much. There are other alternatives in kids wear out there. Not to mention the small fact that these items are tasteless and setting up a whole change of bad fashion no-no's in the years to come. A middle school class photo will look like the Saturday night holding pen at at police station full of low-class hookers.

Harsh? Maybe, but I think we need to be if kids are looking to Kimora Lee Simmons for fashion advice and parents are buying half shirts and low cut tops for five year-olds. What's next crotchless panties and fishnets in pre-school?


Mad and sick enough yet? I thought so. Here are more examples.

Newsweek is on target

Lingerie for kiddies

Gotta love A&F

Go Tanya!




Costume description:
Make any soldier with an attitude drop and give you twenty when you suit up as Major Flirt, the highest-ranking Drama Queen in the army! This classic girls costume comes with military green dress, vinyl studded belt, Major General's hat and matching glovettes--all you'll need to get them to stand at A-tten-tion!


Wow. There is just so much more too. Thanks to everyone who has been sending me links, photos and stories.

She That No Longer Speaks

Disgruntled. Angry. Exasperated. Annoyed. Futile. Pissed Off! That is me. I think futile and PO'ed really nail it though. I hate to do this because it could be seen as burning a bridge but I'm wondering if I'm the only one here who is going through this.

See in the past I have written for a great little review site (not PBN! which is great and wouldn't dream of doing this to a writer!) that I really believed in. They gave me a shot and I felt good seeing my stuff in print even with out a byline. That was promised but has yet to come through. That seems to be the problem. They don't come through. With payment. I've asked nicely sending along my invoices each time they print a piece of mine. It's paltry money. It was supposed to be a regular gig. It didn't work out that way. That is fine. Yet here I sit six months later without my measly $175 in payment. Emails have gone unanswered. Excuses have come up that are I am now deeming as lame and inexcusable. This is no way to run a business. I am angry and ready to take legal action over a paltry $175 merely on principal.

I am a work at home mother! I don't make gazillions doing these blogs and such. I barely cover the cost of my student loan. I need each pay check. I EARN that through nap times and random moments that I eek out during my days. This is not easy money by any means. When you say you won't print an article because it doesn't fit and then do it anyway do you think I won't notice? I keep tabs on my stuff! I keep tabs on the money that is owed to me. There are plenty of other companies that pay on time and do business well.

I just want to be paid and go on my way. I won't write for them again unless they pay BEFORE an article which I know they won't do. I just had to vent. Now see if you can figure out what is no longer being plugged in my 'Places I Write' section. If you too have been burned by a company and not paid let me know! Maybe we can form a disgruntled support group. Want to donate and help me raise the $175 to pay my student loan this month- just email me how! You think I'm kidding. I'm not. I am just feeling futile and pissed off!


*If you want to feel less futile this week join us in the Breast Fest Day or the Montage!

Sneakers are for Your Feet. Not Your Head.

Am I right? If you started wearing gloves on your nose or putting your retainer in your ear it wouldn't work out so well and people would deem you not so bright, so why are some places such as Facebook continuing to encourage the despicably twisted yet pervasive thought- breasts for feeding is bad. Breasts to be augmented and oggled is good. Riiiiiight.

Except that not only does this Facebook episode, the MYSpace one or the Harvard Medical School incident (see NY TIMES) not only demean women further it sets us back. David Wescott, a blogger, made his point well on this topic:

Facebook has come down on both sides of a “free speech issue” here - once clamping down, once letting speech and organizing go - and in each case it’s come down in a way that arguably sets women back.

Breasts. Yes, they are beautiful. Beautiful orbs or sacs of fat. We women should celebrate our breasts most definitely. Yet some how what has continually been lost in translation over the years is that breasts serve a purpose other than as an ideal advertising tool. They are for feeding. Feeding our young. Just like udders on a cow or teets on a pig. First and foremost. Anyone else who gets to suckle at the breast is just a lucky SOB or DOB (daughter of a ... you get my drift).

This whole thought process that breastfeeding in public is obscene is absurd! And wrong. So maybe it makes you uncomfortable to see a partial boob while chomping your steak at Applebees or shopping for new kicks in the mall. Face it that's because nudity probably makes you uncomfortable too. Well, a bucket full of maggots makes me "uncomfortable". So you know what? I look away! Look away from the bucket of maggots. Look away from the breastfeeding women who is doing what she believes is best or economically feasible for her and her child. Don't give her a dirty look or say something inappropriate making her feel low and unworthy of leaving her house. Women get enough mixed messages out there.

What is obscene and absurd to me is the barely legal porno sites out there or the women whose only goal is to be a Playboy centerfold. Not someone using their body in the way they are supposed to. Breasts are for feeding, sneakers are for your feet.

For more on this subject head on over to Izzy Mom.

Yet Another Open Letter

In the same vein as another smarty pants blogger I'm putting out this open letter.

Dear Hungry Hippo Crowd at my Local Farmer's Market,

The Farmer's Market. Just saying it brings to mind fresh produce, the open air, and a fun, relaxing way to spend a morning. I go often and always feel happy for the rest of the day. I have locally grown, pesticide-free food in my house and it usually still has the dirt on it from the farm. I love that, I really do. I even love the little bread company that draws such immensely huge crowds that buying a snickerdoodle takes fifteen minutes.

The immensely huge crowds with the cantankerously rude and impatient Sunday ogglers. I'm drawn to the big loaves of bread, rustic and charming. The giant cookies and tasty muffins just baked that morning. However, like any good little addict once I head to my dealer problems can arise. Problems like you annoying Hungry Hippos who knock a woman with a full stroller out of line. You people (oh yeah, I just said you people) who push your change heavy fanny packs into my back to get me out of your way. The woman who feels it's perfectly ok to suffocate my kid by shoving her plastic bag in my kids face. As my Mom would say, "Watch it Buster!" Oh lady there's a special place for you and it's NOT the front of the bread line!

What I really love the most about all you "little" Hungry Hippos is how helpful y'all are. When the nice lady trying to pay, you know the one who didn't knock anyone out of line, has her stroller fall backwards onto the hot asphalt nearly knocking her child senseless you should STOP AND HELP instead you just gasp and nudge me out of line. Gee thanks! I appreciate how you failed to see my fruit rolling to your Ked ensconced feet. I love how I really felt the community love when I simultaneously uprighted the stroller, my kid, and our purchases and no one even asked, "Is she alright?" as she wailed on and on. Nope. You only asked, "What's in the apple cookie?"

Hmmm.... maybe APPLES?!

I know you saw me, I was scrabbling at our ankles picking up my patti-pan squash. I know that next time I see you in line and your melon rolls out of your bag or you drop an ear of corn I will graciously pick it up and help you. I'll even smile. Why? Because I'm trying to make this planet better even if I had to write this open letter to vent. That is after all the point of the Farmer's Market. Now go by your cookies at Safeway where you belong!