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.

April 14, 2012

My Overdue (And Completely Irreverent) Easter Post

Disclaimer: The following post deals with my ignorance of Easter. NONE of this post is in any way meant to bash Christianity, but deeply religious folk may find the subject matter offensive.

The Naked Family celebrates all the (major) Canadian Christian holidays and observes most of the same traditions our church-going friends follow - except for the going to church part. Unfortunately, my lack of religious training often results in ridiculous comments / inquiries that come off as disrespectful. Divine intervention causes me to have epiphanies around extremely devout people, but rather than show me the light, they look at me horrified, shake their heads, and leave... WITHOUT PRAYING FOR ME. What the fuck?

Enough dithering and feeling sorry for myself (I guess I will have to pray for myself tonight). Here are some of my Easter-related blunders. If you know the answers to any of these questions, feel free to enlighten me.

Ramadan for Catholics

Naked Mommy: What the hell is Lent? Ramadan for Catholics?
Friend: Um, no.
Naked Mommy: All I know is that everyone at work gave up chocolate. I don't get what that has to do with God or how it will make the man upstairs happy.
Friend: It isn't about making God happy. It's about making a sacrifice.
Naked Mommy: Well, whatever. If people want to do right by God, they should give up pre- and extra-marital sex... not just for Lent but all the time! The same for all that other bad stuff the other Commandments tell us not to do.
Friend: Whatever. You didn't go to Sunday school, did you?
Naked Mommy: I co-taught it in Junior High!
Friend: God help the kids who were in your class.

It's Not a Born Again Party

Naked Mommy's Mom: What are you doing on Monday?
Naked Mommy: Working... aren't you?
Naked Mommy's Mom: No, it's a day off for us. Why are you working?
Naked Mommy: Because my company doesn't care about Jesus. If Christmas is Jesus' birthday and we get a week off, and Easter is Jesus' born-again party, shouldn't we get the whole week off? I mean, it's kind of a big deal!
Naked Mommy's Mom: Well, they could at least give you Easter Monday off.
Naked Mommy: To be respectful. At the very least.

Turkey and Jesus, don't ask
Another Friend: Are you making a turkey for Easter?
Naked Mommy: No, I hate turkey. Plus, it's so Thanksgiving.
Another Friend: And Christmas.
Naked Mommy: Yeah. We hosted Christmas last year though so we didn't have to have turkey; we had beef tenderloin instead.
Another Friend: That sounds good! But don't you feel that turkey is more traditional? It just doesn't seem right to not have turkey at the holidays.
Naked Mommy: Because Jesus died so we could eat turkey.
Another Friend: <no words>

This year, since I am obviously unqualified to even ask questions about Easter let alone answer them, I told Naked Baby and Naked Girl the big, fat lie about the Easter Bunny, had an Easter Egg hunt, and cooked a ham. We had a Happy Easter, how about you?

Love,
Naked Mommy

March 17, 2012

Adventures in Transit, Alligator Riding, and Highchair Wars


After some time off, I've linked up once again with The Mommyhood Chronicles for Saturday's Top Five Laughs. After you've read mine, go visit Mel at the Mommyhood Chronicles for more funnies
  1. Adventures on Transit, Part 1: Yesterday, getting onto the train was like entering the Twilight Zone. First of all, the car was half empty - completely bizarre for rush hour, even on a Friday. I soon discovered the reason: the other end of the car was populated by half a dozen smelly and completely intoxicated homeless guys. Since they didn't seem to be causing any trouble, I stayed in the car, but stayed near the door just in case. Moments later, there was shouting from the other end of the car at about the same time sirens came screaming down the street. Turns out, the homeless dudes' buddy had overdone it (drugs, alcohol, I'm not sure which), had passed out on a bench across the tracks from us and was being checked out by police and the fire truck and ambulance were on their way. The man came to, thankfully, so his friends promptly clapped and slapped each other on the back. They then did their civic duty and announced to everyone, "And that's why you don't do crack." I dunno... maybe you had to be there. I found it pretty funny. 
  2. Adventures on Transit, Part 2: Same day, two stops down the line, I'm shaken from my reverie by pounding on the window. A young, well-dressed man was banging on the window inches from my head, shouting and making kissy faces. Not sure if it was mistaken identity, a dare, or the new way 20 year olds hit on stick my tongue out at him, but instead, I made a "Who, Me?" gesture, shook my head, then pointed at the very gay looking (and asleep) guy beside me and gave the thumbs up. The Outside Dude was like, "No way!" and the train pulled away.
  3. Adventures on Transit, Part 3: Same day, 3 stops down the line, I look up to see an Asian man in his 50s wearing a black ball cap with "Three Some Thursdays" printed on it in white block letters. I don't think he spoke English...
  4. High Chair Wars: Naked Baby has had enough of being the little one being picked on all the time, so she instigates crap with her sister. At dinner the other night, she tried to grab Naked Girl's fork. She would reach over as far to the left as she could, while sweeping her hand across Naked Girl's tray, then abruptly pull away as far to the right as she could so Naked Girl couldn't smack her. She did this several times - we were watching and laughing, parent fail award, I know - until we pulled their high chairs further apart. The whole time Naked Baby had an evil grin on her face. Poor Naked Girl was pissed off. Naked Baby also has a feisty way of telling you she's done eating. Rather than say "All done" like her sister did at the same age, she will angrily hurl food and dishes on the floor. It isn't enough to throw what she has, either. We've made the mistake of offering her something else when she does this (thinking she doesn't like her food), and she will grab the spoon from you and throw it on the floor. Same goes for sippy cups. Thank goodness for Corelle and plastic dishes!
  5. Naked Girl-isms: Naked Girl has an amazing vocabulary for her age and can tell you lengthy stories with perfect grammar, but still like any toddler, has words that don't come out right, or uses the wrong word for certain things. We aren't too strict on correcting her 'cause it's so darn cute! Our favorites as of late are: "What's yogurt (Gilbert, Caillou's cat) doing, Mommy?", "Can I make baby's hair like a porcukine (porcupine)?", and "Can we ride in the alligator (elevator)?" I think we're going to officially re-name elevators in our family. Alligator riding sounds so much more exciting!
Have you had any adventures on public transit lately?

March 7, 2012

The road to quality, affordable childcare

Our recent search for childcare led us down a few different roads. At first, we looked for a nanny, because that's the economical and convenient thing to do when you have two or more kids, but that was a dead end (lots of sluts, illegal immigrants, and smokers). Next, we looked for dayhomes or daycares with preschool programs, but soon learned that they were so fucking expensive we'd have to take out a second mortgage and sell our stroller collection just so the kids can learn a little French, play (don't they do this at all dahyhomes?) and do crafts (ditto the last comment). Why hand someone else my paycheque when I can teach the girls a second language myself? Pottymouth is a useful language... in certain parts of town... After some number crunching and intense debating, we decided we could take a sweet vacation or enrol the girls in a shitload of classes - music, dance, sports, whatever - for the difference in cost between the bilingual academy and a regular dayhome. I still feel pangs of regret, but feel it was the right choice to avoid that detour (to certain financial hardship).

Pottymouth Shorthand
While I was cruising through dozens of dayhome ads, one in particular caught my eye: Dayhome in ______ Mobile Park. Shaking my head in disbelief, I asked Naked Daddy, "Isn't it our job to keep the girls off the pole and out of the trailer park?!" I couldn't help thinking the worst: I pictured an alcoholic, chain-smoking biker chic with yellowed fingers and a raspy voice directing toddlers to put more wood in the wood chopper (don't ask why she has a wood chopper when most trailers have gas fireplaces, it's my nightmare); a lanky man reeking of B.O. and wearing a stained wife-beater and tighty whiteys asking Junior for a lighter and a spoon; teenage hoodlums breaking and entering and playing soccer with the babies; and a meth lab blowing up and wreaking death and destruction on the whole park. And then I got off my high horse and remembered that my family had had lived in a trailer before (long story, but it was for one year on a farm) and none of us were thieves, drug addicts, alcoholics, or even smokers.
Good place for a dayhome?
In the end, I convinced myself it was a very good idea to go back to work and let the girls learn proper English (i.e. not Pottymouth) in someone else's home, albeit not the mobile park dayhome (it was too far from our place and she didn't have a fenced yard), so we can afford fun outings on the weekend. Getting to that decision took a while and finding the right dayhome took another week and a half, but the ride was worthwhile. Now we won't say, "What if?" because we know we're getting good value for what we're paying. Our girls love their caregiver and the other kids in her care, they are fed healthy meals and snacks, and are engaged in a variety of age-appropriate activities throughout the day including some preschool routines.

If money was no object, what would your dream childcare arrangement look like? Would you even need childcare or would you still want to work? I would love to volunteer part-time and put my kids in an enriched (music, French/Spanish, gymnastics) part-time program if I won the lottery. 

March 1, 2012

The Onion Chronicles

I have a love-hate relationship with onions. Ever since I was a child, I couldn't stand them - cooked, raw, or deep-fried; they were all bad. As I matured, I came to appreciate French onion soup and how onions had flavor to soups, stews and sauces, but I still will not eat them if they can be distinguished from other ingredients in a dish. If I see a hint of onion, I will go on a search and pick the onion pieces out one by one and leave them in a little heap on the side of my plate. This said, I resent risking my digits to chop onions, but I still do it... with a lot of complaining. My Facebook friends have heard the following rants before and now you can too.

Damn onion
January 26, 2012 Facebook entry


Me (chopping onions): We need an onion chopper.
Naked Daddy: Because you really need another kitchen gadget.
Me: I hate chopping onions and I have to do it all the time, like for every dinner. It hurts my eyes! And I cut my fingers! Because the onions are round.. and hard to cut.
Naked Daddy: Yeah, I'm sure people all over the world are dying from it too.
Me: Probably! From tetanus!! You'll wish we got the fucking onion chopper when I'm dead on the floor and the food tastes like shit because there's no onion in it!
Naked Daddy: (silence)

I WIN, YOU LOSE. YEAH BABY!!!





February 1, 2012 Facebook entry


Dear Costco,

Thank you for cutting the bagels in half. It's nice to know that someone understands the risk involved in cutting them (as well as how much it fucking hurts to slice fingers and how long it takes for the fucking gimp fingers to fucking heal when you wash your hands 94 times a day).

Sincerely,
Naked Mommy

PS When are you gonna start carrying onion choppers?





February 2, 2012 Facebook entry


Well, my fingers survived making dinner but my eyes are still burning. Someone told me to chop onions under running water, but I don't get how that works if you want to preserve digits... I still want the onion chopper.


And then my friend recommended this:




I think we've got a wiiiiiner!


What is your most hated kitchen task?

February 27, 2012

The Floor Food Movement

Are you tired of picking your kids' food up off the floor? 
Does throwing perfectly good food in the garbage make you sick? 

If you answered yes to either of these questions, then I have 
the solution you've been waiting for:

Floor Food



What Is It?
Floor food is comprised of bits of food that have intentionally or accidentally ended up on the floor. Although food in the general sense includes liquids such as soup, floor food is mostly solid food due to the nature of the eating surface. Soft foods such as yogurt or gravy may also be considered floor food, however care must be taken not to leave these foods uneaten for too long or vigorous scraping may be required to get the food off the floor when you need to eat it. (It is important to note that some consumers of Floor Food have informed me that they greatly enjoy making their own yogurt leather.)

Floor Food. Don't throw it out!

How Do You Eat Floor Food?
The beauty of floor food is that it is the truest form of casual dining. You may eat it directly off the floor with or without utensils. Some very young folk may even eat it hands-free not unlike a dog.

Eating Floor Food With Hands
Hands-Free Floor Food Eating

What Are The Advantages Of Floor Food?
  1. No waste: No longer do you need to waste precious dollars' worth of food each meal. All scraps, leftovers, and "droppage" can be eaten later in the day.
  2. Increased immunity: It is well-documented that children who grow up in too clean of an environment have weak immune systems. Eating off the floor and disavowing the 3-second rule ensures your children get the best possible start in life.
  3. Better quality of life due to the following: 
    • Less time spent cleaning. Look at this way: The average toddler eats 6 times a day (every two hours). Sweeping the floor 6 times a day takes about 20 minutes. That comes out to 121.7 hours per year, over 5 days of your life. When you factor in the reduction in dishes needing to be washed, Floor Food gives you back several days of your life! Proponents of Maid-less Living across North America support the Floor Food Movement as it significantly reduces the need for housework.
    • Less time spent cooking. If you are a stay-at-home parent with two children, eating Floor Food eliminates the need to cook dinner. Enjoy the fruits of your earlier labor and relax in the evening! 
    • More quality time with your loved ones. Rather than spending half of every mealtime disciplining your kids, let them chuck food off their trays without abandon and then enjoy an evening picnic on the floor. After all, didn't your pediatrician advise you to get down to your kids' level to bond with them?
    • Better relationship with your partner. Most couples fight about money, chores and child discipline. By reducing housework, grocery expenses and discipline, you are able to focus on the positive aspects of your relationship.
How Does It Work?

A family of four* can expect to eat one meal of Floor Food a day (usually dinner) by observing the following rules:
  1. Allow your kids to throw/drop food on the floor. 
  2. Do not sweep or mop the kitchen floor until the last meal of the day has been eaten.
  3. If there is very little food droppage in your home, add table scraps and leftovers to the Floor Food. This will provide volume and variety. 
Add table scraps to Floor Food
*Smaller families can still benefit from Floor Food by eating it for snacks or purchasing Supplemental Floor Food. Please contact me for a price list.
    Bon Appetit!


    Participants Needed


    Would you like to drastically reduce your grocery bill, increase your quality of life, improve your marriage, and boost your immune system? Contact me today for a free* Floor Food Starter Kit (retail value: $29.95). The Floor Food Starter Kit includes 4 floor cushions, 4 scrapers and 4 sweepers. Order today and I will include recipes for yogurt leather, cookie popcorn balls, and veggie-Cheerio patties.

    *testimonial required to refund credit card charge

    February 16, 2012

    Is there a doctor on the bus?

    Here is an argument I just had with Naked Girl. Parent Fail #249 (for this week, but who's counting?)





    Naked Girl: (singing) The doctor on the bus goes 'Move on back', 'move on back', 'move on back'. The doctor on the bus goes 'Move on back', all day long.
    Me: Good job, sweetie! I love to hear you sing! Should we sing it again?


    Singing together 


    Me: The driver on the bus goes 'Move on back', 'move on back', 'move on back'.
    Naked Girl: The doctor on the bus goes 'Move on back', 'move on back', 'move on back'.

    Naked Girl: No, Mommy. The doctor goes move on back!
    Me: Are you sure? I think it's the driver.
    Naked Girl: No! It's doctor! Driver doesn't say move on back.
    Me: The driver drives the bus and tells the passengers to move back. The doctor makes too much money to take the bus and doesn't give a crap about the environment, so he drives his car to work. He isn't even on the bus.
    Naked Girl: Crap?
    Me: Crap is poo.
    Naked Girl: Crap is on the bus and doctor isn't on the bus?
    Me: You've got it. Except the first part. Forget about the crap.
    Naked Girl: Ok.... Mommy, can we sing something else now?

    I realize I need to work on my explanations... you think I'd be better at explaining what people do for a living considering I'm a human resources communications professional.



    February 12, 2012

    Ding Dong! Can I Help You?

    I like to think I'm less passive-aggressive than I used to be, but my mind still races with mischievous schemes when someone pisses me off. The difference 20 years makes, is that instead of enacting my evil plans, I simply share them with whoever will listen and have a good belly laugh (or, as is more often the case, laugh maniacally to myself).

    Lately I've been annoyed with so many people that I haven't had time to plot against them all; however, there's one person I'd love to pull a prank on: my mother-in-law (MIL). Every time MIL comes over, she makes a point of snooping through all the kitchen cupboards. I ask her if she needs help or if she's looking for anything in particular and she always answers brightly, "No, no, just looking!" Sometimes she'll comment to Naked Daddy in his mother tongue, "Oh, everything's organized!" (Why wouldn't it be? Do I come across as that much of a slob?) and stare at the myriad of spice jars on the rack. Her snooping thus far hasn't extended beyond the kitchen fortunately, but it is very unsettling. I've tried steering her straight to the table and tempting her with wine and cheese or delicious baked goods (her weakness), but inevitably she ends up ensconced in the pantry, crouched on the floor with her head in a cupboard of Tupperware, or intently rifling through the tin foil/Saran Wrap/wax paper drawer. I don't get it. Our kitchen and its contents are nothing extraordinary. Perhaps she just misses her kitchen and wants to ensure it's being well cared for... Did I mention we bought her house a few years ago after she moved to a condo?

    In any case, as much as I love my mother-in-law, I would love to hide a big, nasty dildo in the cupboards for her to find. Not only do I want her to find it, but I want to catch her reaction on camera. Although my sister-in-law is certain her mom wouldn't know what she was looking at, that would almost be better. Could you imagine YOUR mother-in-law holding up a purple 8-inch dildo or 3-foot fister at the dinner table asking, "What the heck is this?" Now don't you dare beat me to the punch and steal my chance at America's Funniest Home Video!

    This post wouldn't be complete without a dildo picture!
    How do you deal with snoopy relatives or nosey neighbours?

    February 8, 2012

    Turn That Frown Upside-Down (Gratitude List, Part 3)

    A big part of my postpartum depression self-treatment involves reprogramming negative thinking. I'm supposed to focus on the positive and to start by making a list of things I'm thankful for. I've done it before (here and here), but haven't posted the lists around house in prominent places; Naked Girl doesn't need to learn how to spell the f-word just yet.

    Here's my latest gratitude list:

    1. Naked Girl has good lungs and communication skills to tell me what she doesn't like (rather than just scream like most toddlers).

    2. My muffin top has shrunk two sizes to a delicious bite-size. Please, no sampling.


    3. My unkempt hair isn't falling out in handfuls anymore (on the downside, the production of pussy cozies has fallen dramatically).

    4. Slight hearing loss from babies hollering in my ears and total and utter exhaustion ensure I sleep well at night. I am relinquishing my title of World's Lightest Sleeper if you would like to carry the torch.

    5. I can use the word 'fuck' 47 different ways. It is amazingly satisfying and honestly, I think I'd be completely bat-shit crazy if I couldn't express my frustration/anger in a colourful way.


    This is probably not what the therapist (who wrote the self-help article) had in mind....


    What are YOU thankful for?

    February 3, 2012

    Photo Friday: 'Gina Juice

    Disclaimer: This post is about my daughter's word for vagina. I apologize in advance to all the Ginas out there.

    Anyone with a toddler knows how much little kids are fascinated with private parts. I think in the Naked house, we display them more often than other people, so Naked Girl talks about them even more than the average toddler! For a while, Naked Girl called her vagina Vagy, but lately she's been calling it 'Gina. Not only does she talk about her 'gina, but she even makes up little 'gina songs: 

    'Gina, 'gina, 'gina, Jacky has a 'gina. 
    'Gina, 'gina, 'gina, Mommy has a 'gina.. 

    ...and so on until she's gone through all the females she knows.

    Serendipitously, the last time I went shopping, I found Gina juice in aisle nine (shame it wasn't aisle 69, but grocery stores aren't that big). Laughing so hard I thought I'd pee myself, I popped the juice in the cart and drove it like I stole it all the way to the till with a huge grin on my face. 

    Delicious and healthy 'Gina juice. Naked Daddy loves it!
    The cashier didn't suspect a thing, she just thought I was a bit weird, but when I got home and announced my purchase to the family, I got the following reactions:

    Naked Daddy: Mm, my favorite. I love 'gina juice.

    Naked Girl: I'm NOT drinking that, Mommy! I don't like 'gina juice!

    Naked Baby: (smiled because she knew Naked Daddy was being naughty)

    What names do your kids use for their junk?

    January 24, 2012

    Sometimes It Is All About You (Or Should Be)

    My adventures in postpartum depression (PPD) continue. I've been trying various modalities in order to get happy and lose bitchy/tired/sad. Between weekly yoga, several sessions of acupuncture, Chinese herbs, vitamin therapy and antidepressants, it's been interesting. My next post will be about my brief antidepressant use and why I'm no longer on them, but for now, I'm gonna bitch (again, remember this post?) about people that don't get it or don't care to try and understand what depression entails... or maybe I'll just bitch about one person in particular.

    Over the holidays, my mom asked how I was doing. As I told her how I'd been - holding nothing back - and how I'd been trying to deal with it, it became clear that in spite of her Psych degree, she thought I was weak, not trying hard enough and stupid to be taking medication when I can just exercise and eat better. I tried to explain that I was doing the best I could, but not getting any better and that it's a lot better to have the side effects of medication than sit in my car in the garage with the engine running (something I'd thought about several times in my darkest days among other ways to check out). Realizing I was not in a safe place and feeling like I had to validate my condition, I stopped talking personal and instead, told my mom about the prevalence of PPD. I told her how in the past few months, two friends admitted they'd had PPD but never told anyone, and how many other moms I've met through blogging and social media are also suffering from PPD and the stigma associated with it. Without batting an eye at my admission of having suicidal thoughts, my mom responded by saying that:
    PPD must be a "trend" of some sort like ADHD was when I was a kid and that there must be something wrong with society for so many people to have PPD. 
    This is what I needed...
    ...and this is what I got.
    What the fuck??? Without caring if I sounded like a spoiled brat, I half yelled/half sobbed, "I don't know what's wrong with society and I don't care. I don't want to fix society, I just want to fix ME!" For the record, I do care about social issues and give back when I can, but for one moment, I needed someone to give a crap about me. When someone is obviously showing some vulnerability, she needs love. All I can say is colossal parent fail. I will try to do better by my girls; I know I can.

    When things are bad, I will look to the positive influences in my life: my husband, friends and you. Thank you for laughing at my ridiculous posts and sending me virtual hugs when I can't make us laugh.

    What cheers you up when you're in a funk?

    January 17, 2012

    Naughty Nanny, You're Too Sexy (For My House)

    After much deliberation, I've decided to go back to work this spring (rather than September) and this started a flurry of worry... what the hell are we gonna do with the kids? Although we LOVED the dayhome Naked Girl went to, now that we have TWO little munchkins, the most economical childcare solution is a nanny. A nanny will also save us the frustration of shoving the kids in the car in their pajamas without breakfast getting the kids ready and out the door in the morning and rushing to pick them up before their daycare closes. There are a lot of negative points, however... 
    1. Having a room-mate again. I'm not keen on the idea AT ALL, but we can't afford a live-out nanny.
    2. Just because a nanny is cheaper than daycare, doesn't mean it's cheap. We have to feed her, our utility bills will go up, plus we have to pay for her health insurance, employment insurance and other crap (still reading through the government docs). We'll probably have to get cable for the first time ever too... not my favorite use of dough. 
    3. It's so hard to find a good nanny. 
    4. There is SO much fricken paperwork involved in hiring a foreign nanny.
    5. The domestic nannies seem so slutty. Below are REAL photos I pulled off a nanny/au pair site. I have concealed their faces for anonymity AND so they don't sue the pants off of me. At least I'm wearing pants. No word of a lie, when I was looking the other day, one was wearing a swimsuit and another was wearing a belt teeny tiny dress. When I tried to get their photos for this post, they were gone - probably reporting for hooking on a nanny site. They actually had the balls to say they wanted to work for single dads too. I digress. Enjoy the photos. 

    Ok, this one isn't dressed slutty but if you saw her facial expression, you'd think she was posing for a porn mag.
    Get a room (you should see her bedroom eyes!) or better yet, get a modelling job. Seriously gorgeous.
    My husband's first impression when I said this was our nanny? "She's a party girl, huh?"
    Again, you're not getting the whole picture so she doesn't look that bad. Loads of makeup!
    Unless she's lactating and offering to nurse my baby, I don't need to see her tits. Wouldn't you agree?  
    My personal favorite. Because nothing says I can take good care of your kids like posing seductively
    behind a shiny curtain. My only question for her: Where's the stripper pole?

    Am I a prude or do you think these photos are inappropriate for nanny applications too?

    January 12, 2012

    Someone Stole My Sing-a-ma-jig

    My daughter left her Sing-a-ma-jig in a ride at the mall and that was the last time we saw it. Let me back up a bit, though. First of all, no, we didn't spend two bucks to let her ride in the Princess carriage. Naked Girl is still letting us get away with shaking rides while she sits in them or telling her the ride is broken, though she is starting to suspect we're holding out on her. Anyways, she had such a blast on her fake ride that she left her freaky-ass alien friend behind.
    Here is a Sing-a-ma-jig thing-a-ma-jig in case you were wondering
    When we realized Naked Girl was Sing-a-ma-jig-less, based on the absence of weird sounds coming from the stroller (other than the usual whining and farting), we were on the other side of the mall and of course the mall was closing, so we left without the pink demon (it's seriously creepy how you can make it sing and move its mouth but it sings "So Long!" on its own without moving its mouth).

    The next time we were there, a few weeks later, we were confident that her toy would be at the Lost & Found. That close to closing time, surely the cleaners would turn it in, right? Well, they never got the chance because some asshole scooped it. The super high-tech lost and found system had no record of any pink stuffed toy turned in around the dates we were there. It's not like it was Naked Girl's only toy, but it was a well-loved gift from her aunt and uncle, so she was disappointed to hear the toy really was gone... especially since I took her to Lost & Found telling her it would be there. I had to explain to Naked Girl that there are "bad people" in the world that take things that aren't theirs, just like Swiper the Fox on Dora.  And yes, the bad people are on Santa's naughty list and sometimes the police even catch them and put them in jail. And yes, sweetie, jail is like a long time out with lots of other bad people (I didn't explain the bad things the bad people do to each other in prison. That will be for when she's older to deter her from being a bad person.). She took it all in very seriously and then said, "Bad people need a time out! Can we go to the play place now?"

    Swiper the fox, sneaky little bastard
    Boo for thieving losers. At least we had a teachable moment and I can take solace in the fact that the opportunistic losers that swiped my kid's toy will most certainly be infected with bum germs, colds and ringworm 'cause that's how we roll. Dad is the master of biohazardous bum rags and bum germs and the kids are purveyors of other fine germs.

    How did you explain stealing to your kids?

    January 10, 2012

    Spam Cures Cancer!

    You know I never try to sell you anything or convert you to another religion (except to Kegelism), but today's post is good spam. I kid you not, this spam can help cure cancer!
    Unfortunately, this spam does NOT cure cancer.
    So what's the dealio?


    My little sister, Chrissy, is going to run a marathon to raise funds for St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital. Yes, she's one of those (f@#$n amazing) people. It's not enough to run 26 miles, she has to raise money for charity too and make the rest of us look bad. The St. Jude Country Music Marathon, Nashville, on April 28, 2012 will be her second marathon and I am so stinkin' proud of her already!  


    The Cause


    St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital is a unique facility in which cancer treatments are provided to children regardless of their families' ability to pay. Further, the hospital conducts cutting-edge research and shares the findings with the global medical community so more lives can be saved around the world. Mortality rates for several types of cancer have been drastically reduced (by 60% on average) since the hospital's inception in 1962. For more information, please visit the hospital's website or see the Ways to Help St. Jude brochure.


    How You Can Help

    • Please visit Chrissy's page and click on the orange "Donate Now" button on the upper right. 
      • Note 1: The donation amount defaults to increments of $25, starting at $25, but it is possible to enter a different amount by selecting "other". Every dollar helps!
      • Note 2: No money goes to my sister; it all goes to St. Jude Children's Research Hospital. Chrissy is paying for her own flights, accommodation, and entry fees.
    • If you are unable to donate (I totally understand with Christmas so close behind us), kindly spam your friends and family in the hopes that they will donate to this worthy cause. 
    Thank you so much for your help! 
    Naked Mommy


    And now back to our regular programming.. here's today's quickie 
    (Alternate Title: When Words Come Out Wrong)


    From the toddler who brought you the word 'F@#$y', a new definition of the phrase 'hand job': 
    hand wash.


    Example: "Baby needs a hand job."


    I almost peed myself laughing! 




    What do you do when your kids says something oh-so-wrong but oh-so-funny?


    January 6, 2012

    Super Pooper

    Naked Daddy has been off for two weeks and we've been making the most of it. By this, I mean more than ice skating, walks, and trips to the zoo; for me, it's been great not to deal with poo. You see, in the Naked house, when Naked Daddy is home, he assumes poo duty. In honour of his efforts, and Naked Baby's changing bowel habits (she used to poop once a day, now it's three times!), I wrote a verse based on the tune of Super Trouper* by ABBA. Naked Girl already knows all the words and sings it with me every time Naked Baby needs a change. I hope you'll sing along!

    Super Pooper (sing to the tune of Super Trouper by ABBA)


    Super Pooper, Daddy's gonna change you
    Every single time
    And that is just fine
    No poopy diapers are mine!

    It's ridiculous that relief of poo duty should make me so giddy, but as you already know, these hands were not made for wiping asses. Who's on poo duty in your house?

    *Super Trouper, the inspiration for Super Pooper:


    January 3, 2012

    Dear Boobies, I Miss You

    Dear Boobies,

    I miss you.

    Love,
    Naked Mommy

    Aside from growing a baby, the only other good thing about being pregnant was growing boobs. To an average person, they looked like normal boobs, but to me, a gal who'd never been well endowed and had in fact been fairly flat, my two cup size larger boobs seemed gloriously huge. They hurt like hell the first trimester and leaked in the third trimester, but they were full and bouncy for the first time in my life so I didn't mind. In fact, I embraced the side effects of being a boob owner.  I happily bought new bras, could suddenly see the purpose of sports bras, and commiserated with women who complained about men talking to their tits and not their faces. Since most of my mom friends said their boobs remained bigger after baby,  I was optimistic I'd get to keep my new friends. Of course this means I was totally and naively unprepared to lose them.


    Deflation began before the third trimester. I lost one whole cup size. My tatas were temporarily restored to their former glory when breastfeeding started, but they quickly reverted to B cups. Eight months later, when I'd finally lost all the baby weight, I pulled out my little pre-baby bras and shockingly couldn't fill them out! Somehow my little girls were littler than before, like baby sucked everything out of them. I didn't think it was possible but my sister-in-law said to just look at her mom (This isn't a bad mother-in-law joke. I love my MIL but she is completely flat). After a quick discussion, we concurred that the flatness was a result of nursing five children and the rate of flattening increased exponentially after the second child, so we were safe to have two children and only suffer partial losses.

    As if the shrinkage weren't enough, my rib cage has never gone back to pre-baby size. It doesn't matter that I got below pre-baby weight last summer, I have never been able to get back into certain dresses or shirts (I used to be 32", now I'm 36"). Not a big deal, right? Well, guess what? Small boobs on a wider chest look even smaller! *Sob!*

    I am still nursing Naked Baby and am dreading the post-breastfeeding shrinkage. After this many years, I am comfortable in my own body and used to my small (but perky!) breasts; however, I do not want to lose everything I've got and go back to my prepubescent body. After conducting a brief internet search, I found seven options in the event your boobs *gasp* shrink and you're left with tragically tiny tits. My commentary on each option follows.
    1. Buy cleavage enhancing, padded bras: + provides some improvement in appearance, - many of these bras are uncomfortable 
    2. Buy silicone inserts: + works very well if you have something to lift (they sit beneath your breasts and add one cup size); - if you have very small breasts and the inserts are bigger than your breasts, the inserts sit strangely in your bra and make your girls look lumpy (I used them for my wedding since my dress had boning in it to hide the lumps; haven't worn them since).
    3. Take breast-enhancing supplements: I have not used these and do not plan to as I question their effectiveness and safety
    4. Get a boob lift: - as with any surgical procedure there are risks, also this procedure only works if you have breast tissue to lift.
    5. Get a boob job: + best improvement in appearance, - as with any surgical procedure there are risks, may make detection of lumps in breast more difficult.
    6. Perform breast enhancing exercises: + certain exercises can provide more definition to breasts and lift them, - too much exercise and not enough body fat can result in masculine looking breasts.
    7. Gain weight: + breast tissue is fat so when you gain weight, some goes to your breasts, but - you will also gain weight elsewhere
    Since I am not comfortable going under the knife (and certainly can't afford it), it looks like I need to start doing push-ups and weights and invest in padded bras. It's no surprise, but I thought it wouldn't hurt to see what's out there. My girls, Naked Girl and Naked Baby, owe me for taking away my first girls. I think a time share in Hawaii after they make their first million is fair, don't you?

    Did your body bounce back after baby or are you still getting there?

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