I have had this in my mind for a few weeks. You know when you are driving on the highway in rush hour, and you think to yourself, Self, you did a great job of planning your drive for today because there is no traffic! The Traffic Grand Poo Bahs strike mightily and they strike quickly, and you may as well slam on the brakes before your brain is done with the thought because around that corner is a 10 mile back up for one car with a flat tire.
So I have been flipping and I have been flopping as to what I would write and when. I don't need to give any more material to the Grande PooBahs of Unnecessary Fits, Tantrums and Meltdowns . Anyway.
A little over a month ago I wrote about Genea being able to walk into her room when she felt a big cry coming on. She was able to shut the door, had a fit for a few minutes, then came back out. For her, this is walking up Mount Everest without any shoes. The first time it happened I actually went after her to ask her what the heck she was doing. We have spent more than a year living with this cry, telling her over and over to go ahead and let it out! Just let it out behind a closed door so the rest of us can function and come out when you are done. And she did it. And now she has done it several more times. And there are some other changes too. And even though there is a huge risk of angering the Grande Poo Bahs I more strongly feel like I should write this down, so that when there is a regression I will have my own written proof that we were at this point, therefore will get to it again. We are finally to the point of taking only 1 step back for every 2 steps forward.
The controlling and manipulating are less. The incessant demands for constant unwavering immediate attention are much less. The crying is way down and the duration is less. Disproportionate meltdowns are less. Hyper behavior is way down. Hypervigilance is the same. Coughing and drinking are the same but much better than in the past. Knockdown tantrums are less than once a day.
Genea fell apart yesterday crying. Her teacher had the kids make little gingerbread houses out of old milk cartons and graham crackers. Clearly not meant to withstand a tornado, she was carrying it and it started to come undone and she tried to save it and crushed it in the process. And she was sad, and she cried. She came to me and I met her in the kitchen and hugged. I patted her head and told her I know how much she loved that little gingerbread house. We will miss it but we will also have many more fun things to make tomorrow. And she was ok. I think, and I would be crossing my fingers but cannot type that way, we just may have turned a corner.
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Ah, a home cooked meal
Once in a while the subject of cooking comes up and when it does I try to change the subject. I so totally do NOT get the popularity of all those bazillion cooking shows and contests. So mind numbing I would rather watch a diaper crust over than watch some ninny get a tv show to ...s.t.i.r ...a.n.d ....h.e.a.t ...wah wah wah I fell asleep already!
I don't really care about cooking. IMO, if it makes those nice people at Wendy's so happy to make me a salad or some chicken things, well then who am I to pass on by, denying them of their bliss.
So here is what I don't get. What really makes a meal a 'home cooked meal'? Because I can open a can and a box and turn the dial on my oven and have some kind of chicken entree ala pasta cheese-o but I do not consider that a home cooked meal. I think that is more like a home- opened meal. And this is what I tell people who oddly think it is their business to ask me if I cook or not (and why people obsess about that I don't know but I think they think they will get a great story out of my answer to tell their friends and be properly horrified). Sure, I open dinner. Or, drive thru and acquire dinner. But did I slay those baked beans out of my garden and do whatever makes them so tasty? Uh, no. And by the way, does anyone know what baked beans actually are and what makes them so tasty?
Recently we were all at a relatives home and this relative made a big deal about making us a home made dinner. She was gonna COOK us dinner people, leaving little wisps of insinuation that the mom in this family is too royal of a selfish beast to do the cooking as she (I?) should. There were baked beans that she cooked, by opening the can and putting them in the oven. There were hot dogs that she cooked by heating them in a pan and putting them in buns from the bakery section of the grocery store. Needless to say, no tomato's were assaulted into ketchup, that was already in a bottle. Rolls from the Pillsbury can, also cooked in the oven. This all took about a half hour to "cook". Oh yeah, and desert was a cake ala Betty.
What I want to know is, how is this so superior? Cuz all I see here is a lot of opening food already cooked. Is the difference in the heating? I put my baked beans in the microwave, hot dogs and buns too and it is all ready in about 5 minutes.
If I make chicken noodle soup by adding the flavor package to the ramen noodles to a pot on the stove, has it lost value? Am I to believe that my chicken noodle soup is inferior? Ok, I will grant that ramen noodles are actually inferior. But that leads to my last point which is, that in my house, living with my people, it does not matter if I spend the day cooking dinner or if I warm up dinner in the microwave because unless it has a clown next to it or a dancing rat, the kids are not going to want to try it anyway. The Husband does not so much eat, he more snorts sharply and then the food on his plate has vanished and I would bet a box of little debbies that he never tasted it at all.
I don't really care about cooking. IMO, if it makes those nice people at Wendy's so happy to make me a salad or some chicken things, well then who am I to pass on by, denying them of their bliss.
So here is what I don't get. What really makes a meal a 'home cooked meal'? Because I can open a can and a box and turn the dial on my oven and have some kind of chicken entree ala pasta cheese-o but I do not consider that a home cooked meal. I think that is more like a home- opened meal. And this is what I tell people who oddly think it is their business to ask me if I cook or not (and why people obsess about that I don't know but I think they think they will get a great story out of my answer to tell their friends and be properly horrified). Sure, I open dinner. Or, drive thru and acquire dinner. But did I slay those baked beans out of my garden and do whatever makes them so tasty? Uh, no. And by the way, does anyone know what baked beans actually are and what makes them so tasty?
Recently we were all at a relatives home and this relative made a big deal about making us a home made dinner. She was gonna COOK us dinner people, leaving little wisps of insinuation that the mom in this family is too royal of a selfish beast to do the cooking as she (I?) should. There were baked beans that she cooked, by opening the can and putting them in the oven. There were hot dogs that she cooked by heating them in a pan and putting them in buns from the bakery section of the grocery store. Needless to say, no tomato's were assaulted into ketchup, that was already in a bottle. Rolls from the Pillsbury can, also cooked in the oven. This all took about a half hour to "cook". Oh yeah, and desert was a cake ala Betty.
What I want to know is, how is this so superior? Cuz all I see here is a lot of opening food already cooked. Is the difference in the heating? I put my baked beans in the microwave, hot dogs and buns too and it is all ready in about 5 minutes.
If I make chicken noodle soup by adding the flavor package to the ramen noodles to a pot on the stove, has it lost value? Am I to believe that my chicken noodle soup is inferior? Ok, I will grant that ramen noodles are actually inferior. But that leads to my last point which is, that in my house, living with my people, it does not matter if I spend the day cooking dinner or if I warm up dinner in the microwave because unless it has a clown next to it or a dancing rat, the kids are not going to want to try it anyway. The Husband does not so much eat, he more snorts sharply and then the food on his plate has vanished and I would bet a box of little debbies that he never tasted it at all.
Sunday, December 14, 2008
TRICKED!
Ya' know, when the whining hits an all time high and the sound has pierced your brain for days and days, until you want to stuff a lazy boy recliner in your ears or die trying, this is not a good thing.
In the interest of helping, of bonding, of generously assisting a tired child in getting on jammies, of caring and care taking, The Husband and I have sprouted 2 little buttheads, where our children should be.
There are plenty of things both Teena and Genea can do for themselves and many, many things they can mostly do for themselves. The occasional inside- out shirt or lost sock, those things they need help with and we take those opportunities to nurture our children. To demonstrate, to model, the reward of working with a person, helping the person learn to help themselves. Feel the love flowing from my righting of your twisted sock and let the love wash your brain in happiness, contentedness and security knowing you are not on this journey called life alone.
This works for people. I have seen it happen, and it can actually work. So I don't know if it is my particular children, or if I am just doing it all wrong. Because what I have as a result is two entitled complaining whiners.
In the average day, Teena probably spends about an hour getting dressed in the morning and putting on jammies on at night. She does not want to be alone in her room. But if you go in there to help her, she then wants to play. If you threaten to leave, then she whines and cries. And my split second reaction is OH MY UNHOLY HELL MAKE THAT NOISE STOP and I get irritated and shove jammies over her head. Because she is still a little kid, and she does need help. HUH! But you know what? An amazing transformation takes place IF you happen to be dangling a Tinkerbell costume in her line of sight. Then Teena becomes a clothes- changing savant. Like Rain Man counting toothpicks, her abilities and fine motor control escalate to the proficiency of a teenager and Teena rips and whips through her required duties of changing her stinky underwear and other gross things to become the Tinkerbell Fairy Butterfly Princess With a Wand.
Now Genea, she has a habit of letting loose with all her muscles when she sleeps resulting in the um, dampening, of all fabric around her. Whether she has full control of this or not, I really cannot say. But, part of her responsibility in this is to take off her bedding and put it downstairs. I recently started having her help me make her bed up again. And, I have even started having her try to do the sheets on her own. They don't have to be perfect, I don't have to sleep on them, so as long as they are close, that works. But of course, she is not strong enough to do the fitted sheet herself. I hate that stupid fitted sheet. I tell ya, if you want to see me tortured into giving up spy secrets, just stick me in a room with a small fitted sheet to deal with. In particular for some reason the sheets we have for Genea's bed are extra tight and the bed is extra inflexible so the damn thing really takes two big people.
Unless all you have is one small five year old who is missing out on freshly delivered pizza. Then Genea can put her own fitted sheet on. Herself. Alone. The whole thing. And the rest of the bed too. And, by the way, we have not had an oceanfront bed since this discovery was made and tested.
"Just say 'no' to" Supermoms! Generally Adequate Mom's Rule!
In the interest of helping, of bonding, of generously assisting a tired child in getting on jammies, of caring and care taking, The Husband and I have sprouted 2 little buttheads, where our children should be.
There are plenty of things both Teena and Genea can do for themselves and many, many things they can mostly do for themselves. The occasional inside- out shirt or lost sock, those things they need help with and we take those opportunities to nurture our children. To demonstrate, to model, the reward of working with a person, helping the person learn to help themselves. Feel the love flowing from my righting of your twisted sock and let the love wash your brain in happiness, contentedness and security knowing you are not on this journey called life alone.
This works for people. I have seen it happen, and it can actually work. So I don't know if it is my particular children, or if I am just doing it all wrong. Because what I have as a result is two entitled complaining whiners.
In the average day, Teena probably spends about an hour getting dressed in the morning and putting on jammies on at night. She does not want to be alone in her room. But if you go in there to help her, she then wants to play. If you threaten to leave, then she whines and cries. And my split second reaction is OH MY UNHOLY HELL MAKE THAT NOISE STOP and I get irritated and shove jammies over her head. Because she is still a little kid, and she does need help. HUH! But you know what? An amazing transformation takes place IF you happen to be dangling a Tinkerbell costume in her line of sight. Then Teena becomes a clothes- changing savant. Like Rain Man counting toothpicks, her abilities and fine motor control escalate to the proficiency of a teenager and Teena rips and whips through her required duties of changing her stinky underwear and other gross things to become the Tinkerbell Fairy Butterfly Princess With a Wand.
Now Genea, she has a habit of letting loose with all her muscles when she sleeps resulting in the um, dampening, of all fabric around her. Whether she has full control of this or not, I really cannot say. But, part of her responsibility in this is to take off her bedding and put it downstairs. I recently started having her help me make her bed up again. And, I have even started having her try to do the sheets on her own. They don't have to be perfect, I don't have to sleep on them, so as long as they are close, that works. But of course, she is not strong enough to do the fitted sheet herself. I hate that stupid fitted sheet. I tell ya, if you want to see me tortured into giving up spy secrets, just stick me in a room with a small fitted sheet to deal with. In particular for some reason the sheets we have for Genea's bed are extra tight and the bed is extra inflexible so the damn thing really takes two big people.
Unless all you have is one small five year old who is missing out on freshly delivered pizza. Then Genea can put her own fitted sheet on. Herself. Alone. The whole thing. And the rest of the bed too. And, by the way, we have not had an oceanfront bed since this discovery was made and tested.
"Just say 'no' to" Supermoms! Generally Adequate Mom's Rule!
Friday, December 12, 2008
Beautiful.....
I was going to take Teena out, so I went into the bathroom to get ready and told her to get dressed also. When I came out she was waiting for me. She took one look and said-
"Mommaaaaaaaaaaa, you are not all beautiful yet!"
Well who knew there would be a dress requirement at the store? And who guessed it would be my 3 year old who pointed it out? I normally would make a tiny effort. Unwrinkled clean clothes, hair up in a clip, a little make up. But this time I decided not to bother.
I am starting to get it, how women get into a pattern of doing the minimum necessary to be presentable and in-offensive. I am saving so much money on make up and hair supplies since I stopped working! Of course, I try to swab at the teeth and get a comb through most of my hair these days. And, I do make the effort to not smell funky. But for the rest of it? If I didn't have to get Genea from the bus stop, I might not get dressed for days! How much could I save on laundry soap that way?
Seriously though, I am saving boatloads of money on little things I would not have thought of. The obvious, lunches out, gas for the car, those things I knew. I wear a dumpy sweatshirt most days, comfortable pants and my beloved Birkenstocks. I have not bought new make up since I stopped working. I have not needed it because I have not run out of anything. I have purchased a few new clothing items but again, not near as much as I used to. I don't have anywhere to be where I must look presentable. Since I don't have to, why should I?
Ugh. This is an easy, easy rut to get into. Why should I take the time to look decent. No one is looking and no one cares anyway. My standards of presentableness have plummeted like the stock market. My eyebrows have grown to where they are obstructing my vision. Forget my legs, the hair there could be braided. I have not quite taken to calling my gray hairs "highlights" but I am close. I have 3 layers of chipped nail polish on my toes. I think it is only 3. I wore jewelry on Thanksgiving, but before that? Dunno.
I feel like I am in one of those experiments like on the Tyra Banks Show. Where they make you look as shitty as possible then send you out in public and watch people recoil, catch it on tape, then broadcast it all to the world. OF course people should not be judged by their appearance. OF course a persons appearance is not a measure of their value as a human. But truth is, people like the pretty and people like the sparkly. Whether it is rational or not.
"Mommaaaaaaaaaaa, you are not all beautiful yet!"
Well who knew there would be a dress requirement at the store? And who guessed it would be my 3 year old who pointed it out? I normally would make a tiny effort. Unwrinkled clean clothes, hair up in a clip, a little make up. But this time I decided not to bother.
I am starting to get it, how women get into a pattern of doing the minimum necessary to be presentable and in-offensive. I am saving so much money on make up and hair supplies since I stopped working! Of course, I try to swab at the teeth and get a comb through most of my hair these days. And, I do make the effort to not smell funky. But for the rest of it? If I didn't have to get Genea from the bus stop, I might not get dressed for days! How much could I save on laundry soap that way?
Seriously though, I am saving boatloads of money on little things I would not have thought of. The obvious, lunches out, gas for the car, those things I knew. I wear a dumpy sweatshirt most days, comfortable pants and my beloved Birkenstocks. I have not bought new make up since I stopped working. I have not needed it because I have not run out of anything. I have purchased a few new clothing items but again, not near as much as I used to. I don't have anywhere to be where I must look presentable. Since I don't have to, why should I?
Ugh. This is an easy, easy rut to get into. Why should I take the time to look decent. No one is looking and no one cares anyway. My standards of presentableness have plummeted like the stock market. My eyebrows have grown to where they are obstructing my vision. Forget my legs, the hair there could be braided. I have not quite taken to calling my gray hairs "highlights" but I am close. I have 3 layers of chipped nail polish on my toes. I think it is only 3. I wore jewelry on Thanksgiving, but before that? Dunno.
I feel like I am in one of those experiments like on the Tyra Banks Show. Where they make you look as shitty as possible then send you out in public and watch people recoil, catch it on tape, then broadcast it all to the world. OF course people should not be judged by their appearance. OF course a persons appearance is not a measure of their value as a human. But truth is, people like the pretty and people like the sparkly. Whether it is rational or not.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Snow DAY!
School was cancelled yesterday, already, for a snow day! We got just over 6 inches, on top of about 6 inches so there was a great amount of snow on the ground.
I think a snow day is about my favorite thing in the world. An unexpected day off! Nothing planned! Free time! Now that I am staying at home and not working or in school, the snow day might have lost its charm except for the fact that this was a perfect snow day. What had landed was light and fluffy, and had stopped by the afternoon. On the side of our house you could not feel the wind blowing and though it was cold, well, as a kid in Alaska once told us there is no such thing as bad weather, just bad gear!
In between our house and the neighbors house is a decline. Not quite enough to call it a ditch but definitely not level either. I built the girls a sled hill from our yard into the ditch and they absolutely loved it! Despite the fact that I by no means have a degree in luge track construction it worked out pretty well. I piled snow up to about 3 feet tall. I tried to build in some stairs or foot holds but they kept collapsing. But the hill held and I curved it around a bit and the whole track went about 20 feet. What a blast!
We all had snow pants and boots and all the other stuff to sled but Teena managed to get her hands and feet wet and icy anyway. I don't know if it is the Ukrainian blood or what but when Genea came in her hands and feet were room temp. Crazy! My ass had completely frozen off (ha, wouldn't that be great if that actually worked) but I stayed dry somehow. The kids had so much fun it was hilarious and a great time!
I think a snow day is about my favorite thing in the world. An unexpected day off! Nothing planned! Free time! Now that I am staying at home and not working or in school, the snow day might have lost its charm except for the fact that this was a perfect snow day. What had landed was light and fluffy, and had stopped by the afternoon. On the side of our house you could not feel the wind blowing and though it was cold, well, as a kid in Alaska once told us there is no such thing as bad weather, just bad gear!
In between our house and the neighbors house is a decline. Not quite enough to call it a ditch but definitely not level either. I built the girls a sled hill from our yard into the ditch and they absolutely loved it! Despite the fact that I by no means have a degree in luge track construction it worked out pretty well. I piled snow up to about 3 feet tall. I tried to build in some stairs or foot holds but they kept collapsing. But the hill held and I curved it around a bit and the whole track went about 20 feet. What a blast!
We all had snow pants and boots and all the other stuff to sled but Teena managed to get her hands and feet wet and icy anyway. I don't know if it is the Ukrainian blood or what but when Genea came in her hands and feet were room temp. Crazy! My ass had completely frozen off (ha, wouldn't that be great if that actually worked) but I stayed dry somehow. The kids had so much fun it was hilarious and a great time!
Monday, December 8, 2008
Nature vs Nurture
When a child is born, do they come out with a brain already printed upon with their personalities? Are their characteristics pre-determined?
I wonder.
I always thought some of the nastier traits were learned. The ability to tap dance on another persons nerves for example. I understand that the response to the persons reactions is learned, but the drive to harass, the desire to reach out and torment another human as a way to occupy and enjoy yourself, that I always understood was inate. You are born with a mean gene that you can act on, or not. But you learn the ways to maximize the other persons discomfort.
Come to find out, a certain level of obnoxious-ness comes from within. And oddly, some children appear to have the natural ability to get right in there. Things I was positive had to be learned, may not! My world order is all smashed up!
How does one child know, KNOW, that to copy her sister, will drive her crazy. To repeat word for word, inflection for inflection, what the other has said, will allow the first child the opportunity to watch the second child blow up her own head. It is something I always thought was passed down through the generations on school playgrounds wherein the mean kids huddled together discussing the best torments and filling in the newbies. Or learned by watching bad tv shows. Or reading about it. Or hearing their evil cousins do it. Thousand of years worth of one sibling repeating what the other has said, thousands of years of the other saying 'stop copying me', thousands of years of the first child refusing to quit, and thousands of years of parents yelling out, "STOP COPYING YOUR SISTER".
I am coming to realize that for some, seeing a behavior is not necessary. It is inherent. The question, ''where did she learn to do that?" has no answer. She didn't learn it. She just knows. And since I have contributed to the genetics of one of my children, and I know what she has been exposed to, I can officially say I haved resolved the issue that has tangled through the brains of some of the most brilliant minds in history.
Nature vs Nurture solved.
I wonder.
I always thought some of the nastier traits were learned. The ability to tap dance on another persons nerves for example. I understand that the response to the persons reactions is learned, but the drive to harass, the desire to reach out and torment another human as a way to occupy and enjoy yourself, that I always understood was inate. You are born with a mean gene that you can act on, or not. But you learn the ways to maximize the other persons discomfort.
Come to find out, a certain level of obnoxious-ness comes from within. And oddly, some children appear to have the natural ability to get right in there. Things I was positive had to be learned, may not! My world order is all smashed up!
How does one child know, KNOW, that to copy her sister, will drive her crazy. To repeat word for word, inflection for inflection, what the other has said, will allow the first child the opportunity to watch the second child blow up her own head. It is something I always thought was passed down through the generations on school playgrounds wherein the mean kids huddled together discussing the best torments and filling in the newbies. Or learned by watching bad tv shows. Or reading about it. Or hearing their evil cousins do it. Thousand of years worth of one sibling repeating what the other has said, thousands of years of the other saying 'stop copying me', thousands of years of the first child refusing to quit, and thousands of years of parents yelling out, "STOP COPYING YOUR SISTER".
I am coming to realize that for some, seeing a behavior is not necessary. It is inherent. The question, ''where did she learn to do that?" has no answer. She didn't learn it. She just knows. And since I have contributed to the genetics of one of my children, and I know what she has been exposed to, I can officially say I haved resolved the issue that has tangled through the brains of some of the most brilliant minds in history.
Nature vs Nurture solved.
Friday, December 5, 2008
37 lids
This staying- at- home- with kids deal has left me with small bits of time here and there for the little things that no one ever really had time for, and never was any one's priority but would be nice to do someday. I needed to free up some cabinet space, rearrange some things and decided to take a run at the mystery o' plastic storage cupboard. I am a fan of the inexpensive type of food container that is meant to be re-used but can be let go if need be but I also own some of the nicer stuff designed to last longer (and by nicer stuff I mean from clearance at big lots that once came from a pricier store). I sorted in to 3 piles, stuff that matched, stuff that didn't and stuff I wasn't sure of.
Everyone knows where this is going right? I wound up with 4 bowls without lid, 8 containers that had a matching lid that fit, and 37 lids to nothing.
So I was laughing at myself, good crap, the amount of time I spent over the years looking for matched up food containers and I never even had a chance!!! So I was still laughing, thinking this would make for a funny blog entry, what could I compare it to? Impulse control? Organization? Focus? 37 solutions for problems that don't fit/ work/ apply? Whoa!
Man, I tell you, this explains a LOT.
Everyone knows where this is going right? I wound up with 4 bowls without lid, 8 containers that had a matching lid that fit, and 37 lids to nothing.
So I was laughing at myself, good crap, the amount of time I spent over the years looking for matched up food containers and I never even had a chance!!! So I was still laughing, thinking this would make for a funny blog entry, what could I compare it to? Impulse control? Organization? Focus? 37 solutions for problems that don't fit/ work/ apply? Whoa!
Man, I tell you, this explains a LOT.
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
A few of my stray opinions
Is it just me, or has Christina Aquilara gotten a new face? There is something significantly different about her appearance. I really hope she did not do an Ashley Simpson by taking her unique and stunning appearance and homogenize it into "The Britney Face".
Why is it that Rachael Ray looks SO different on the bazillion products she markets? On her show she is attractive, really quite pretty (mind you, I only see her on the way to something else because I cannot handle her level of perkiness at any time of the day but especially in the morning!!!) On the boxes and packaging, her cheeks have been removed. I don't know where they went, if it is heavy make up, or if it is computer technology or what. But that is not how she looks.
Lastly, the answer has been revealed. YES! Yes you CAN over-whiten your teeth! What is going on with this? When it looks like you drank a bottle of white out, and your teeth are whiter than your toilet paper, time to quit!
Now, stop it people!
Ok, now here are 2 tips for general information. I better not find out later that everyone already knew this.
When your kitchen sink gets a few layers of gunk and needs a good abrasive scrubbing with some smelly Comet on the sides and in the drain and such, and you have to put on those funky smelling vinyl gloves try this. Spray it with a generic bleach spray. Sit and take a rest. Rinse. Done!!! You have no idea how huge this is ! I hate hate hate the sink. We don't have a garbage disposal so instead we have those disgusting strainers. Ugh. VILE. Ever since those uncooperative Scrubbing Bubbles turned out to be such a bitter disappointment sitting there, just sitting STILL and not cleaning or dancing or singing, ever since then, I have held back on cleaning products. Just stopped feeling the love. So this is great news! Because I am fond of things that can take care of themselves!
My other great tip is a gross one so read at your own risk. Last night, both Genea and Teena had a vomit party. And once we cleaned up after this little event, I had an epiphany. Once in a while I save larger plastic containers for random stuff like crayons, or for paint or whatever. The kind that big yogurt comes in for example. You know where I am going here don't you? Right, give the girls re-used puke bowls. And this is so 'green' I can call it a 'green offset' and practically even buy water in a plastic bottle! I am not just recycling the container for a second use, but now I can put the lid back on to cover the puke and toss it! So I don't waste water washing a puke bowl! And won't flood the world with carcinogenic toxins from cleaning out a puke bowl!
Go Green!
(The above is meant to be sarcastic and funny. My humor is not for everyone, this is a known fact. But the idea worked great!)
Why is it that Rachael Ray looks SO different on the bazillion products she markets? On her show she is attractive, really quite pretty (mind you, I only see her on the way to something else because I cannot handle her level of perkiness at any time of the day but especially in the morning!!!) On the boxes and packaging, her cheeks have been removed. I don't know where they went, if it is heavy make up, or if it is computer technology or what. But that is not how she looks.
Lastly, the answer has been revealed. YES! Yes you CAN over-whiten your teeth! What is going on with this? When it looks like you drank a bottle of white out, and your teeth are whiter than your toilet paper, time to quit!
Now, stop it people!
Ok, now here are 2 tips for general information. I better not find out later that everyone already knew this.
When your kitchen sink gets a few layers of gunk and needs a good abrasive scrubbing with some smelly Comet on the sides and in the drain and such, and you have to put on those funky smelling vinyl gloves try this. Spray it with a generic bleach spray. Sit and take a rest. Rinse. Done!!! You have no idea how huge this is ! I hate hate hate the sink. We don't have a garbage disposal so instead we have those disgusting strainers. Ugh. VILE. Ever since those uncooperative Scrubbing Bubbles turned out to be such a bitter disappointment sitting there, just sitting STILL and not cleaning or dancing or singing, ever since then, I have held back on cleaning products. Just stopped feeling the love. So this is great news! Because I am fond of things that can take care of themselves!
My other great tip is a gross one so read at your own risk. Last night, both Genea and Teena had a vomit party. And once we cleaned up after this little event, I had an epiphany. Once in a while I save larger plastic containers for random stuff like crayons, or for paint or whatever. The kind that big yogurt comes in for example. You know where I am going here don't you? Right, give the girls re-used puke bowls. And this is so 'green' I can call it a 'green offset' and practically even buy water in a plastic bottle! I am not just recycling the container for a second use, but now I can put the lid back on to cover the puke and toss it! So I don't waste water washing a puke bowl! And won't flood the world with carcinogenic toxins from cleaning out a puke bowl!
Go Green!
(The above is meant to be sarcastic and funny. My humor is not for everyone, this is a known fact. But the idea worked great!)
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