Pooches and Pussy Cozies

Mother Nature doesn't play fair but you can make the most of your postpartum hair loss.

Satan Sent Me Spam (or My DVD Player Just Hates Me

Satan's work or Dora the Explorer's?

You're Not In The Boom Boom Room Anymore

Has your bedroom lost its sexy since baby moved in? You're not alone.

I Nominate Myself For The Worst Mommy Blogger Ever

Not your typical mommy blogger.

My Doctor Made Me More Depressed

Talking about depression is difficult, especially when you're talking to idiots.

September 30, 2011

Photo Friday: Mr. Potato Heads? Or Mrs.?

M's Handiwork

Our gay friend blames himself cos he made tranny potatoes with M this summer, but I reassured him that she was doing it long ago without anyone's influence and we don't care cos we're open-minded. Who hasn't made a cross-dressed potato before?

Hello to the Lovely People in Denmark

Hej, hvordan går det? That's all I know, unfortunately, but I wanted to send my greetings. I'm very happy to have you here! How did you find this blog? 

September 29, 2011

Thankful Thursday

I was going to wax ecstatic about how wonderful my family is, but figured you're not here to listen to mushy shit like that, so instead, here's my sarcastic gratitude list. Anyone with kids should be able to relate.

I am thankful that:
  1. Em wakes up a few times a night. The exhaustion gives me an excuse to not work out.
  2. M no longer shits her pants (she's been toilet trained for two months!). The pee diapers I could deal with but scraping shit off her ass was getting to be too much.
  3. I look too haggard (most days) to be hit on, so I don't have to deal with attention from attractive men that might tempt me to do something bad.
  4. My kids will not let me leave them with anyone. I save loads of money on babysitting.
  5. I put on a few pounds and finally grew boobs. Supposedly I went through puberty but my chest missed the memo.
  6. I have even more reasons to wash my hands. I do not have OCD, I do not have OCD, I do not have OCD.
  7. I no longer have any excuse to wear nice clothes so I don't have to argue with the drycleaner about ruined clothes and invalid coupons.
  8. Em is still breast-feeding and I can't drink alcohol until she's down for her longest stretch of sleep. Baby + Toddler + Not Working Mom + No need to avoid alcohol = Mom Drinking All Day (aka Alcoholic)
  9. I can go out in dirty clothes and blame my kids. Yes, I know there's something on my shirt. Em must have spat up on me. Funny how baby food looks a lot like Nutella, eh?
  10. My husband isn't like me. God, if we were exactly alike, we would be divorced by now. 
How has your gratitude list changed since you had kids?

September 28, 2011

The Fat Came Back

A few weeks ago, I proudly announced on Facebook that I'd lost three whole pounds, a paltry amount, but it was the first time the stubborn scale had moved in months! I even weighed myself a few days in a row before posting to make sure the weight difference wasn't just water or shit. Certain that this was the real deal and knowing that I hadn't done anything special other than drink more water and cut out late night snacks, I was pretty pleased with myself. I shouldn't have been so smug though. Within two weeks, the weight came back. Had I started binge eating? No. Had I changed anything else? No, well I did start exercising more, so WTF?! My kind friends told me the weight increase was probably muscle (muscle is heavier than fat - blah, blah, blah), but I think the only reasonable explanation is that my body is the ideal fat host while breast-feeding (it makes me uber hungry) and that the fat will come back until breast-feeding do we part. The recent regaining of those prick pounds inspired this song spoof:

The Fat Came Back (Sing to the tune of The Cat Came Back by Harry S. Miller)

Old Naked Mommy had troubles of her own
She had some extra pounds that wouldn't leave her bones!
She tried and tried to make them go away
But the fat came back in just a few days!

The fat came back, in just a few days
The fat came back, she thought it was a goner
But the fat came back, it just wouldn't stay away.

She deep-sixed the crap and hit the gym
Hoping to get super fit and slim
But her thighs grew wider and her butt got bigger
So she said screw exercise, then whatta ya figure?

The fat came back in just a few days
The fat came back, she thought it was a goner
But the fat came back, it just wouldn't stay away.

She called up a man at a famous fat farm
He said with a cleanse and limited carbs
The fat would go and never come back
But it didn't fuckin' work cos he was a quack.

The fat came back in just a few days
The fat came back, she thought it was a goner
But the fat came back, it just wouldn't stay away.

How long did it take you to lose the blasted baby weight?

September 27, 2011

How many f#$%n strollers do you really need?

My husband and I have a problem, a serious addiction. No matter how hard we try, we can't stop buying baby/toddler transporting equipment. I know I said the kids are tswarpers (creatures with the ability to warp space and time) but they are unable to travel through space well. Combine this limited mobility with a strong need for variety - M will not ride in the wagon two days in a row, for example - and several different kid-toting, hauling, pushing things are required.

Here is our baby/toddler transporting inventory. Please don't rob our house.

Graco Mosaic Travel System $200
Jolly Jumper Ring Sling $30
Baby Bjorn Baby Carrier $200
Baby Buddha Baby Carrier $110
MEC Double Trailer $279
Indie Bumbleride Stroller (used) $275
Chariot Cougar 1 Bike Trailer/Stroller (used) $250
Baby bike seat (used) $30
Tricycle (used) $20
Trike with no pedals (used) $15
Tricycle with handle $100
Radio Flyer wagon with trailer and canopy (used) $60
Britax Chaperone carseat $260
Britax Marathon carseat $320
Britax Boulevard carseat $300
LittleLife Baby Backpack $299
Ride on stroller board (so M can stand on back of stroller) $75
Runners Push Bike $140
TOTAL: $2,963

Being ready for any activity: Priceless!!

I realize we have four carseats, four strollers, four baby carriers, three tricycles, one baby bike seat, one push bike, one baby backpack, one stroller board and only two kids, so is the final total ridiculous? Maybe, but since we are active, we use every piece of equipment at least once a week (except for the sling, it sucks). K is lusting after the highest model Chariot now and appeals to me by saying, "It's for Em and she deserves something nice cos she's been getting all hand-me-downs". Clever ploy, but he forgets I was the oldest in my family and have no sympathy for that crap. My counter-argument was, "How many f#$%n strollers do we really need?! Don't you want the kids to eat and have diapers?!?!"

When the girls are bigger and ask why we won't help them buy nice cars, we will simply tell them we blew the transportation budget before the age of three.

Anyone wanna buy a travel system? I need to finance a new baby backpack without re-mortgaging the house.

September 26, 2011

Naughty Night Night

I read to the girls a few times a day and most of the time, just want to get through the story without injury (M likes to roll and kick and Em tries to crawl off the bed all the time) so I usually don't think too much about what I'm reading. I must've been tired over the weekend cos a couple books totally cracked me up:
"If you become the wind and blow me," said the little bunny,"I will join a circus..." Source: Runaway Bunny by Margaret Wise Brown
I would join the circus too if my parents tried to blow me!
Not in a box. Not with a fox. Not in a house. Not with a mouse... Not on a train! Not in a tree! Not in a car! Sam! Let me be!... I would not, could not, in the rain... I could not, would not, on a boat. <and now the best part - wait for it!> I will not, will not, with a goat. Source: Green Eggs & Ham, Dr. Seuss
I totally agree with Dr. Seuss except for in the house, on a train, in the rain, and in a car (but that was a long time ago). I guess that only leaves in a box, on a boat and with animals. Let's leave all the animals unmolested in boxes on Noah's Ark, shall we?

Have any bedtime stories seemed wrong to you? Which ones?

Blog Facelift

Naked Mommy Diaries is getting a new look! Don't be alarmed, posts will still be written while the blog is being revamped.

Also, you can now find me on:

  • Facebook at www.facebook.com/nmdiaries, and
  • Twitter at www.twitter.com/kkme88
Happy Monday!

September 25, 2011

Ridiculous Conversations with Two Year Olds: Understanding Sarcasm

Me: M, honey, please put your shoes on.
M: <turns away, ignores me>
Me: M, did you hear me? If you want to go to the playground, you need to put your shoes on.
M: <ignores me>
Me: Do you want to go to the playground, M?
M: No.
Me: Ok, we can play in the backyard then.
M: <whining> I wanna go playground!
Me: Well then, put your shoes on, sweetie.
M: <Ignores me for 2 minutes, then starts whining again> Mommy, I wanna go playground!! I wanna go, Mommy. Can we go?
Me: Yes, sweetie, but you need to put your shoes on! Come on. Mommy's waiting for you.
M: <walks into the kitchen> I need a princess vitamin, Mommy! Can I have princess vitamin? I need a princess vitamin. I need it!
Me: And I need a Valium.
M: <disapproving look> You don't need a Valium, Mommy. Noooo. But I can have princess vitamin! You want one too?

September 24, 2011

A Parent's Love-Hate Relationship With Baby Talk






 Is your toddler's nonstop chatter driving you bonkers too?


*Caricatures designed on Osoq.com. 

September 23, 2011

Photo Friday: Milk Moustache & Goatee


M used to be a tidy eater until she saw how much attention her baby sister gets making a mess all over the place!

September 22, 2011

Who's Your Daddy?

Most of us don't know our parents as well as we think we do. Take a look at your Dad. Do you look like him? Did you inherit his IQ, allergies and shortsightedness? If you have nothing in common, it's probably because you're not related by blood.

A few days before Em was born, I heard a story on CBC Radio that said 10% of the population isn't fathered by the guy they think is their Dad. This number has long been accepted by geneticists, however,  Bernard Dickens, a specialist in health law and policy in the Faculty of Law at the University of Toronto believes that the 10% figure is actually an underestimate (and recent research supports this). 

Here is a paternity quiz for you. If you answer yes to all three these questions, you are "mother's baby, father's maybe."

  1. Do you get teased about being the milkman/postman's daughter?
  2. Are all your siblings Asian (replace family ethnicity here) and you look half white/Latino/black/brown?
  3. Are your parents tall while you are a little runt?
Finding the 10% stat so surprising and the mother's baby, father's maybe phrase so funny, I told my mom and sister about the story. I didn't, however, find it funny when my sister posted the same words on Facebook under my adorable newborn baby's photo. For the record, I am 100% certain K is the father of my babies - they are mother and father's babies! As for my own Dad... I'm pretty certain he's my blood relative. Do you think 10% of moms have been unfaithful? Or do you think the number should be higher? Or lower?

September 21, 2011

Quickie: Gratitude Time Out

When it comes to spirituality or self-improvement, I'm not an Eat, Love, Pray kind of person or whatever the fuck it's called. In fact, I started reading the book, vomited a few times in my mouth by the time I reached page 30, and put the book down... forever. That's kind of a big deal considering I rarely give up on a book.

The gratitude list thing appealed to me, however, since most people including me, take too many things for granted these days. (It's a total crock of shit that reciting the list during childbirth will ease labour pains though.) For people like me, I created a whole new gratitudism - The Gratitude Time Out (for parents). Before explaining what it is, let me tell you how it came to be: Today, the shit really hit the fan. M was being a total pain in the ass, saying no to everything then whining when I put away the markers/stickers/crackers/grapes she just said she didn't want (I wouldn't be putting them away if she said "yes" when I asked her if she wanted them, WTF?), kicking me in the head when brushing her teeth, telling me she wanted something to eat/drink then leaving it on the table, trying to kill her sister, asking me 70 times a minute, "What doing, Mommy?"... I could go on and on but this is supposed to be a quick post. Anyways, I was so burnt out by the time K came home, I had a tantrum - No! Do not wash that dish, take the baby, I need to get the fuck out of here right now! - and gave myself a time out. Instead of staying home and sulking in front of the computer or doing dishes or something similarly lame, I jumped on my mountain bike and went for a sweet ride in the big-ass park near our house (it's hundreds of acres with lots of paved and unpaved trails). I pedalled as hard as I could and as I released the rage and my mood lifted, I thought, next time my kids drive me nuts, I'll stop, breathe and be thankful for the time out I'm gonna have when K comes home. Try it, I promise you'll love it. And let me know how you spent YOUR time out. I love getting comments!

September 20, 2011

Dinkerbell and the Honky

Since M is a professional dawdler and dinks around when it's time for bed, I've started calling her Dinkerbell. First off, she will tell you she needs to eat something even though she had a snack right before her bath. I know this is a ploy because the few times I gave in and took her down for Snack #2, she just played with her food. Of course when K puts her to bed, she eats her second snack like there's no tomorrow so he thinks I'm cruel and starving the child! Once bath and snack(s) are done, it's time to floss and brush. I hate it so much that I've handed the whole teeth business over to K. She can cooperate when she wants to, like if we're rushing to a play date or Grandma's house, but before naps and bedtime, she writhes and kicks and you find out just how hard all her joints are. This afternoon her foot met my eye. I was so pissed off I gave her a time out. After teeth, she wants to pee again (Really? She just went half an hour ago, right before her bath!). This means another handwashing where she will promptly splash water all over herself and the bathroom requiring a change of clothes and several towels for the floor. You try not to slip on the floor and crack your head open, get out another fucking pair of PJs, wrestle her into them, drag her to her room with her sippy cup of water and then she says, "I have to poo poo." Fuck! Most of the time she really does go, but sometimes she doesn't. You have to respect the poo and take her once more to the toilet, let her sit there for 15 minutes while she asks you 47 times if you see that. See what? I don't fucking know, she always asks and I just say, "Yes, I see that." Do you know what comes next? Right! Another hand wash, new set of PJs and you still have goddamn stories to read. K is in charge of this because I usually have Em on the boob but I'm not off the hook for the night because after stories, M insists on a Good Night Song from Mommy. A song is what, like two minutes? But I'm usually stuck there for 10 minutes so our bedtime "routine" if you can call it that is almost two hours. Fuck! I bitch to K about it every night to please help me get the kids the fuck to sleep before 11 pm but it rarely happens. Clearly, I can't blame him entirely... we have a very clever Dinkerbell.

I can't complain too much about Good Night Song Time because it is a fun time for pretend, tickles and butterfly kisses. Tonight as I was tucking M in, she said was a car, so I went "Honk, honk!" on her nose. That elicited a "No, no, no!" so I tried her tummy, ear and forehead. I was about to go for her toes, when she pounded her little fist on the wall and said, "Mommy, the honky's right here!" I almost peed myself when she said that! A horn is now a honky, love it! She knows the word 'horn' from "The Wheels on the Bus" song, but honky is so much more fun (as long as people don't overhear and think we're being racist).

Have your kids been making up words lately? What's the cutest one you've heard?

September 19, 2011

Quickie: Knock knock!

Just for the hell of it, knock on your toddler's head and ask, "Who's in there?" You might be surprised at the answer.  When M was one, she just looked at me and laughed. Six months later, she knocked on my head and said, "Knock knock!". Now 27 months old,  I was expecting her to say her name, but M said, "A piggy's in there! Open! Can you open it? Piggy's in there!" I think there's one in my head too and that's why I want nutella toast at 11 pm. Oh wait, M says, "There's a kitty in Mommy's head." Milk it is, then. Meow!

Go try it and let me know what your kid says!

Disney Hates Parents

At our last family dinner, I was telling everyone how I'd started using the TV as a part-time babysitter (Don't judge, you do it too! Anyways it's only for a few minutes while I put Em down for a nap.) and had let M watch Finding Nemo without realizing what a fucking scary movie it is. Holy colossal parent fail! Poor little M had nightmares for a few nights after watching it - screaming, crying, shaking and clinging to Daddy nightmares. Which part exactly made her shit her pants? Hmm.. let me think...

  1. Was it the barracuda killing Nemo's mom in the opening scene (and eating all his brothers and sisters as eggs) 
  2. Was it the sharks? Which one? There were fucking THREE of 'em! (fucking three not three fucking, cos then it would be an R-rated flick)
  3. Or was it the stinging jellyfish, pelicans, seagulls or fishing net all out to get the fishies? 
My brother-in-law hardly batted an eye and said, "Don't you know that Disney hates parents?" and we started thinking of Disney movies in which one or both parents die:
  • Bambi
  • The Lion King
  • The Jungle Book
  • Lilo and Stitch
  • The Little Mermaid
And then I completed the list thanks to Wikipedia:
  • The Hunchback of Notre Dame
  • Brother Bear
  • The Fox and the Hound
  • Atlantis: The Lost Empire
  • Tarzan
Just do a search for "Disney movies where parents die" if you don't believe me. I understand that some movies, such as Lion King, have long been touted as excellent learning tools in teaching the Circle of Life, but I don't really need my kids traumatized in their beds because they think barracudas and sharks are gonna get them. I guess Caillou and Sesame Street will be making more money off of me since I can trust them to not disturb my kids' sleep!

Can you remember the scariest movie you saw as a kid? For me, it was Jaws - that damn movie ruined water sports for me for years. I know that isn't a kids' movie (we weren't supposed to be watching it) but it just goes to show that my parents did something right. Since I've learned my lesson and M is too young to remember the movie, does that mean I can still be the perfect mom? No, but I can keep dreaming and  dreams are oh so much better than nightmares. 

September 18, 2011

Shit My Mom Said

My earliest memory of being mercilessly ridiculed at school happened early - when I was in kindergarten. The reason I was the laughingstock? A ridiculous made-up story. The kids called bullshit, as could be expected, but the sad part was that the story wasn't even made up by me. My mom had told me this thing about bananas and I felt obliged to enlighten my classmates. To make things worse, when I was met with skepticism, I vehemently cried, "It's true because my mom told me and she's the smartest person in the whole world!" Oh my fucking god... Step away from the Mom Altar, right?  But what four and a half year old doesn't worship her parents? Of course I thought everything my mom said was true - she knew it, enjoyed it and took some liberties not realizing how gullible I was. (This is my wisdom with age speaking. I went through a phase in my 20s thinking she did that when I was little because she was an egomaniac.)

Since inquiring minds wants to know, here is the critical piece of wisdom my mom imparted to me, aged 4, while eating a banana one day:
Don't eat those strings. Those are the banana's poo. You don't want to eat poo, do you?
After the shocking revelation that mom didn't know everything, I started to question her explanations and even those of my teacher (my kindergarten teacher hated me but that's another story). In some ways, this was a good thing, but in my mission to dispel lies, I ruined Christmas for my little sister. I think she was three or four years old when I told her that Santa Claus wasn't real. She's still upset about this but it's not like I did it out of spite.

As I got older, if I was unsure about something my mom said, I just uh-huh'd her. Rather than crowing the gospel truth according to my mom, I would add a disclaimer like, "Mom mom says.... but she might be full of shit." If it seemed like random nonsense, my friends would just laugh and tell me that the shit my mom said was hilarious.

These days, it's easy to "Google it" or check the Snopes website and call bullshit. I will teach M & Em to use those tools too when they're old enough and in the meantime, watch my words and balance carefully on the Mom Altar.

What's the craziest shit your mom said when you were little?

Ridiculous Conversations with Two Year Olds: Discovering Body Differences

Scene: M is sitting in my lap and suddenly grabs my boobs.

M: Mommy's bobos are in there. <grabbing her own chest> Are my bobos in there?
Me: Yes, M's booby's are in there.
M: Is there milk in my bobos?
Me: No, no milk.
M: Daddy have milk in his bobos?
Me: No, only mommies have milk in their boobies.
M: I can have it too. Look, Mommy! <puts Elmo on her chest> Elmo having milk from my bobos. Want some more, Elmo?

Scene: My friend is changing her son's diaper and M sees his penis.

M: Ew! <looks away, then looks again> Yuck! Disgusting, Mommy. 
(Here's hoping she feels that way for the next 20 years.)

Scene: M and I are in the shower. She just noticed that we don't look the same down there. 

M: <pointing at my crotch> Oh! Uh oh! Messy! What happened?
Me: It's not messy, that's just hair. Mommy hasn't had a bikini wax in a while.
M: <staring> Oh... Messy! Need wash it, Mommy?
Me: Yes, but the hair doesn't come off with soap.
M: Doesn't come off? Why? What happened? Fix it, Mommy! <thinking> Daddy can fix it! 
Me: <laughing> Mommy will fix it herself when she has time.
M: I don't like it, Mommy. Too messy.

September 16, 2011

Photo Friday: Hello, Drooly!

Em - 6.5 months old
I said hello, Drooly... well, hello, Drooly. 
It's so nice to see you growing big and strong. 
You're lookin' swell, Drooly... I can tell, Drooly
You're still teethin'...you're still teethin'...
You've been teething for so long. 
I feel no teeth comin'...... but you keep on gummin' 
Everything you can stuff in your mouth.
So..... get a bib, fellas.......wipe her lips, fellas 
Drooly's drool just keeps goin' south.

My adaptation of  "Hello, Dolly" by Louis Armstrong

September 15, 2011

Ridiculous Conversations with Two Year Olds: How did the poo get on the wall?

Scene: After putting Em down for a nap, I returned to the playroom to play with M.

M: Mommy, I went poo poo.
Me: Good job, honey! Do you need me to wipe your bum?
M: <looks anguished> Mommy, poo poo's there. Wipe it! Wipe it, mommy!
Me: Yes, mommy's just getting some toilet paper. Hold on.
M: On the wall, Mommy! Poo poo!
Me: What?!
M: Poo poo, mommy! On the wall!
Me: How did poo get on the wall, M?
M: It smells, mommy. Wipe it! Wipe it!
Me: Ok, I need to wipe you first. <wipes M's bum> M, How did the poo get on the wall? Did you touch it? Did you put your bum on the wall?
M: <no answer, looks at floor>
Me: It's ok, sweetie. Let's go wash your hands, then Mommy will clean the wall.

I still don't know how the blob of poo ended up on the wall, but long live Lysol!

September 14, 2011

ButterMILF Waffle Recipe

As I was typing up this recipe for a friend, I accidentally typed buttermilf instead of buttermilk. Some sort of Freudian slip?  F and M aren't exactly keyboard buddies! (If you aren't familiar with the term MILF, rent American Pie or check the Urban Dictionary.) In any case, the name stuck. Every MILF needs an aresenal of great recipes to keep 'em coming back for more.

This recipe was adapted from "The New Good Housekeeping Cookbook," 1986. Although it was a respectable base recipe, it needed some tweaking to earn a MILF-worthy title: I added sugar for colour and vanilla for flavour. 

I share this recipe on the condition that you let me know what the results were. If these waffles rocked your breakfast table, I wanna hear about it. Likewise if you can do better - I'd love to hear what improvements could be made. Cheers MILFs!

Karen’s ButterMILF Waffles

Ingredients* (substitutions below)

1 2/3 cups all purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon baking powder
½ teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons sugar

2 eggs
2 cups buttermilk
1 tablespoon vanilla extract
1/3 cup vegetable oil or melted butter

Quickie MILF Method

  1. Combine dry ingredients in large mixing bowl.
  2. Combine wet ingredients in medium mixing bowl.
  3. Make a well in the dry ingredients, pour wet ingredients in and stir until most lumps are gone. A few small lumps are ok – you don’t want to over-stir or the waffles will be tough.
  4. Follow your waffle maker’s instructions for cooking.
  5. Enjoy!
Super MILF Method (more time consuming for small but noticeable difference in texture)

  1. Separate egg whites and egg yolks.
  2. Beat egg whites with sugar until soft peaks form (about 8 minutes). Put aside.
  3. Combine egg yolks, buttermilk, oil and vanilla extract in medium mixing bowl.
  4. Combine flour, baking powder, baking soda and salt in large mixing bowl.
  5. Make a well in the dry ingredients, pour wet ingredients in and stir until most lumps are gone. A few small lumps are ok – you don’t want to over-stir or the waffles will be tough.
  6. Fold in the beaten egg whites. Be gentle so you don’t lose the air bubbles.
  7. Follow your waffle maker’s instructions for cooking.
  8. Enjoy! 
*Substitutions

Flour: I have substituted 2/3 c flour with whole wheat flour and had great results. If you do this, use a scant 2/3 c of whole wheat flour, or alternately add extra buttermilk. I’ve also experimented with substituting a tablespoon of flour for a tablespoon of oat bran or ground flax seed. Doesn’t change the flavour and has added health benefits.

Buttermilk substitute: If you want to use the recipe as written above even though you don’t have buttermilk, you can put 2 tablespoons of vinegar or lemon juice in a measuring cup and fill it up to 2 cups with regular milk. Doesn’t taste as good as buttermilk, but it works. If I don’t have buttermilk, I’m too lazy to improvise, I just modify the recipe as follows:

Milk instead of buttermilk: If you don’t have buttermilk, use regular milk and increase baking powder to 1 tablespoon and omit the baking soda.

Salt: you can substitute kosher salt. Typically in baking, you would use more kosher salt than regular salt but for this recipe, it really doesn’t make much difference.

September 10, 2011

The Ehrenfelser

Ehrenfelser was depressed. For two years, 50 weeks and 4 days she had lied on the wine rack untouched. Her rackmates graduated to Uncorked one by one, but she remained as corked as ever. A dark green bottle with a silver label, she harboured a delightful light and fruity organic wine made with somewhat rare grapes. She had been voted 'Most Likely To Be Popped Within A Week', but that moniker clearly had not fulfilled itself.

Ehren F didn't know why she was always passed over. At the winery, she'd been much celebrated and ooh'd and aah'd over then had been carefully nestled between camping gear and her mistress's wedding dress for the trip to her new home. Once there, she frequently received longing glances and was spoken of fondly, so she anticipated her turn every time her master and mistress had company for dinner. She would scream, "Pick me!" with all her heart but alas, her legs were the largest thing about her and her voice was never heard. She finally gave up on the idea of being chosen and resigned herself to being a Vieux Vin for the rest of her days.

One hot day in August, Ehren F was pulled from the rack and unceremoniously shoved into a bag. She thought it was a garbage bag and prepared for the worst. Half a day later, she saw daylight again and realized that she was in a hotel room. The room had a pleasant view and river rock fireplace - it had the potential of being a Wine Drinking Place. "Hurrah!" Ehren F exclaimed. "I will soon join my friends at the Bottle Depot!"

Four days later, Ehren was home again. Her mistress was in a foul mood and declared that she needed a drink, dammit (The children had not slept well on vacation and everyone was tired and cranky)! Ehren's master promptly popped her in the freezer without so much as a how do you do and somehow in the night, Ehren's cork got popped. It was not how she'd imagined it would be, but she was relieved to have it over and done with. She knew that she would have been relegated to the rack once more if it hadn't happened. What Ehren didn't know is that she had great sentimental value to her master and mistress and they had been waiting and waiting for the perfect opportunity to get to know her better. The day after the freezer incident was no special occasion but was a happy accident for all. The master and mistress of the house savored the wine as a belated anniversary treat and Ehren felt relieved that she was not be a Vieux Vin after all.

Moral of the story: When you have kids there is never a perfect time to open that special bottle of wine, so just enjoy it when you can. For the record, we sipped our beloved Ehrenfelser in front of the TV in our pajamas and it tasted wonderful.


What's your favorite nightcap?

September 8, 2011

Rocky Horror Diaper Show

We had an unfortunate diaper incident in the house this morning. Yeah, yeah, another poop explosion story, everybody’s baby poops, get over it. NO! Our house incurred a fatigue-induced shit-astic shit-aster!  It all started in the wee hours of the morning and got progressively worse. Em got up four times between 2 am and 9 am to feed. At 9 am, an hour earlier than usual, she started howling for me because her diaper was completely loaded – no surprise given how much she’d eaten. Although I had somehow gotten a whole four hours of sleep, my brain was extra fuzzy and I was not all rainbows and sunshine. I changed Em’s diaper, changed her clothes and change pad cover cos she peed on the change table in the process, dressed baby, changed her diaper and clothes a second time (she wasn’t done pooping apparently), then chucked the poopy clothes and change pad in the trash. That wasn’t the tragic part – wait for it - I tossed the dirty nappies in the washing machine. Unfortunately I didn’t even realize what I’d done ‘til after breakfast when I decided to put the garbage out so the house wouldn’t stink as it warms up (we’re experiencing a heat wave this week and I don’t have a Diaper Genie). So here I am walking out the front door thinking: “Déja vu, wasn’t garbage day yesterday? Hmm… the bag seems pretty full! I wouldn’t have… SHIT! Did I?? SHIT!!” I took a little peek and the horror of what I had done suddenly dawned on me. Oh horror of horrors! The washing machine was already going full-bore. I tore up the stairs in my stylish Crocs and saw that the wash cycle was almost done. Looking in the machine, it appeared that Snuffleupagus had vomited Rocky Road ice cream into it and emptied a trunk-full of snot in it. Gotta love baby-on-solids poo and disposable diaper guts.

What to do if you put a shit-laden disposable diaper (or two) in your washing machine:

  1. Turn the washer off.
  2. Don’t panic.
  3. Don’t run around the house – in the summer with the windows open no less – shrieking “Shit! Shit! Shit!” at the top of your lungs while banging your fist on the walls. The neighbours will think you’ve truly and finally gone completely nuts and your other kids will start copying you, totally cutting you off from much needed play dates.
  4. Don’t let your kids try to help. They will only end up covered in shit and then you will have not only a load of laundry, washing machine and floors to clean, but very dirty kids cos one will put diaper mess on the other.
  5. Put your kids somewhere safe where they won’t get into trouble for at least 45 minutes.
  6. Locate a bucket, mask, garbage bin and reliable pair of rubber gloves. Now is not the time for those old dishwashing gloves with a hole in the thumb.
  7. Put on the mask and gloves.
  8. Transfer the washer contents to the bucket. Remove the diaper(s) and large chunks of diaper gel and put them in the garbage where they rightfully belong.
  9. Try not to throw up because a) you don’t need more mess to clean up and b) the vomit will plug up your mask, suffocate and kill you. “Choked on own vomit” is a memorable but disgusting epitaph.
  10. Plug the tub and dump the bucket contents into the tub.
  11. See Step 9.
  12. Fill the tub enough to cover the clothes and *other* items. Keep the water running for the next step.
  13. See Step 9.
  14. Now we rinse! Swish the clothes around in the tub then rinse them under the faucet. Remove as much of the shit and diaper gel as you can. The gel is fluffy and sticky so it takes a lot of water to remove it.
  15. See Step 9.
  16. Wring out excess water and transfer the de-Snuffied clothes to laundry basket.
  17. Collect as much diaper gel as you can, put it in the bucket and empty the bucket into the toilet. Flush in small batches so you don’t clog the toilet. You will need three to four flushes per diaper.
  18. Clean and sanitize tub.
  19. Transfer clothes to washer. Run the following cycles: Pre-Rinse, Wash, Extra Rinse, Wash (not a typo, wash twice!).
I am so sorry that I forgot to take photos, but I was trying to obey Step 9 and get downstairs before the girls started World War 4, so photos for the blog were the furthest thing from my mind. I hope the Snuffy Rocky Road vomit and snot description was vivid enough and that you can still eat Rocky Road ice cream after reading this. What’s your version of the Rocky Horror Diaper Show?

Share

Twitter Delicious Facebook Digg Stumbleupon Favorites More