Thursday, May 31, 2012

How To Do Laundry

[caption id="attachment_98" align="alignright" width="221"] Ollie's discount store? That sounds like a national chain. I'll look them up. Thanks for sharing, Stacy.[/caption]

Toddlers, one day we will grow up, get jobs, and have enough money to arrange for our parents to take up residence in an unlicensed assisted living facility. At that time, learning to do things for ourselves will be a vital part of making it in the world until we have children of our own to water down juice for and make miserable.



If you've ever exploded your diaper up the back of your onesie, you know that washing clothes is a real thing. I too believed that were threw them away at the end of each day, but this is not true.

I've been watching my parents do laundry quite closely for the past month and have created a simple guide. Please print this out and put it somewhere safe like your empty college fund envelope. If possible, resist the urge to eat the list.

How To Do Laundry

Step 1: Pack clothes into the washer as tightly as possible. Assess your work and remove 4-5 items that you've never liked. Don't bother separating by tint as that formality has been abandoned.

Step 2: Pour in either too much liquid/powder detergent or a small, tightly wrapped package of candy.

Step 3: Press 2-3 buttons. Wait for ocean sounds.

Step 4: 24 hours later, open the washer. Become visibly overwhelmed by the smell of sewer. Shed a few bitter tears. Pull out a sock and press it to your nose. Say "Again?" in a shaky voice.

Step 5: Put the damp, slightly stiff clothes in the dryer with twelve fabric softener sheets.

Step 6: 48 hours later, open the dryer. Take out a tank top and wear it. Walk around all day saying, "Something in here smells terrible."

Step 7: Take clothes from the dryer. Place them in the washer with the special soap or packet of candy. Press buttons. Wait for the ocean's song.

Step 8: Three days later, return. Open the washer and carefully remove the tadpole and bullfrog community that has taken up residence. Release them into the wild or destroy them in the garbage disposal, whichever pleases you more.

Step 9: Add more soap or candy, this time in startling amounts. Add in six tablespoons of baking powder, two cups of vinegar and a cup of diluted bleach (borrow it from a neighbor who isn't as eco-conscious as you are.)

Step 10: Press buttons and wait for water. Don't move for 35 minutes.

Step 11: Ignore the basic emotional needs of the toddler you claim to love. :(

Step 12: Open the washer. Sniff and smile.

Step 13. Open the dryer. Notice the fitted sheet and towel sitting in it. Sigh. Remove them.

Step 14: Place clothes in dryer. Press buttons.

Step 15: 40 minutes later, open dryer. Take out the clothes you need for the day. Press "tumble" every 2-3 hours over the next three weeks to keep clothes wrinkle free until a new set of clothes needs washing.

Congratulations! You have completed your first load of laundry. At this time parents typically reward themselves with 6 hours of pinterest and a large plastic cup of wine but feel free to celebrate in a way that speaks to your unique spirit.

***If this process seems too overwhelming, simply repeat the phrase,"I have nothing to wear," over and over while making preparations for a trip to Target.

Pinterest: New Evidence



Maybe Chung is a customs agent or homeland security offer with x-ray vision and was speaking to the validity of this passport. "So true" as in "this is a real passport." Doubtful.

I'd love to see what else Charlene has pinned to her "Inspirations and things I love" board. Maybe a chair? Bowl of grapes? Blank piece of paper?

Wednesday, May 30, 2012

How to Win at Bedtime

Toddlers, listen to me. Winning at bedtime has nothing to do with crying, making excuses, fake coughing, or pretending to be hungry for the repulsive dinner you rejected earlier. That's baby stuff. And we're not babies. We're big.

[caption id="attachment_79" align="aligncenter" width="336"] Look at this fool.[/caption]

The reason I'm awake and running around nude like a boss at 7:30PM (I'm usually standing up in my bed right now) and you're being read some Sandra Boynton remix in footed pj's is because I planned ahead.

If you wish to successfully throw off the parentals and indefinitely delay the commencement of your bedtime routine you must delve into the psyche of your oppressors. While parents vary when it comes to discipline, religion, politics, etc., they all have the same goal every single day: time without you.

I know, I know. Rude.

You will not avoid bedtime by merely exhausting them because just the thought of sitting down in front of the television or Pinteresting without your sweet angel voice in the background gives them a natural high that transcends all of our antics. No, toddler. You must be smarter.

If you want the leprechaun to forsake its journey, you must pee pee in the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.

Allow me to explain. This morning I woke up at 5:30AM and from the moment my feet hit the floor I had one goal in mind: total house destruction. If you were to come into what now resembles a suburban shanty town of an existence you would see toys, snacks, shoes, papers, forks and more littered about as if a natural disaster had struck.

Natural disaster is actually hip hop name but that is neither here nor there.

I was so unpredictable, wild, and needy today that nothing domestic was accomplished. Plates are stacked. Laundry remains unfolded.

I just pulled a sock out of the couch cushions that was so dirty it resembled pita bread.

On a normal day by 6:45PM my mother, AKA the Queen of Shawshank, has me in a bathtime-story-bedtime whirlwind. Today she was sitting on the couch drinking room temperature white wine out of a ceramic mug with a "don't give a duck" look in her eyes. I could see the wheels turning in her head. She could get the ball rolling for alone time but what was the point: 2-3 hours of solid cleaning awaited her.

[caption id="attachment_78" align="aligncenter" width="336"] Yes. Ahhh. That's right. Let overwhelm wash over you.[/caption]

To us toddlers who would have no problem playing shirtless in an open dumpster with a full diaper, this makes no sense but believe me. It is difficult for most adult female humans to fully relax in a filthy environment.

So here I am. Awake. Unwrapping maxi pads with joyous abandon at a time when my view of the outside world is usually obstructed by the painted wooden bars of my cell. I know I won't stay up all night but I guarantee that my bedtime will be 45 minutes to an hour later than normal and isn't that what it's all about? Delaying?

I bid you, adieu, comrades. Take the wisdom I've just dropped and let the world be your salty side of the goldfish cracker.

Yo Gabba Gabba: Not for Toddlers



Shame on you, Nickelodeon. Why would you think a show about a man battling against life-sized STDs is appropriate for children?

Pinterest is Making You Dumb

I appreciate innovation. Attached to my sleep cage is a fisher price ocean wonders aquarium. It plays (slightly out of tune) music including pachelbel's canon in d, the plastic fish move around, there are bubbles, lights- clearly this device is a work of intelligent engineering and passion.

Contrast my aquarium with eggs "hard boiled" in an oven. Which ones of these is amazing and which one is a stupid idea.



Pinterest has convinced mothers around the world that mundane, mediocre, disgusting, dangerous, and ridiculous are "life-changing" and "brilliant."

Instead of staring at their children with joy and amazement dancing in their pupils, these female parents are transfixed to pages upon pages of images that are both irrelevant and uninteresting. Hours of engaging in this activity has resulted in a loss of brain cells and subsequently, a lowered IQ.

Riddle me this: how are you going to stimulate my young mind when yours is being dulled?

I'll let the evidence speak for itself.



What you're looking at is a pirate cake, probably for a 1st or 2nd birthday party.

Angie finds this photo definitely interesting and there is not a doubt in my mind that she is still staring at this photo right now trying to comprehend its intricacies. Arica felt the need to type out the comment, "nice Pirate" in between studying for the bar and obtaining her rocket science degree. Micaela is intoxicated. Julie finds this cake "good." Thanks for chiming in, Julie. And sweet Jacquline (hate typing out that name), the typical over-enthused Pinterst user, is in love.

Another problem with Pinterest is that it has created herd trend mentality. One genius becomes obsessed with an concept, like salted caramel, and suddenly everyone is transfixed and spends hours trying to out do each other with ridiculous applications of said trend. Salted caramel nail art. Salted caramel-themed weddings. There are no limits.

Right now, the zombies are focused on cake batter. Don't try to make sense of it.



Cake batter cookies. Cake batter dip (barf). Cake batter martinis (ps. it's not a matini if it's served in a tumbler). What is "cake batter" flavor? Eggs, sugar, and butter?

I wouldn't be surprised if there are moles on Pinterest who come up with these trends just to laugh at people who, pun intended, gobble them right up. How else can you explain the "overnight oatmeal" explosion? Suddenly the five-minute process of cooking oats the morning you actually want to consume them is too laborious? Does hot cereal really require overnight prep?

Mmmm, food soaked for 10+ hours sounds so delicious. Tell me, will it melt in my mouth and have the consistency of puss? I hope so!



Hayle, on the other hand is amazed and like all Pinteresters, is definitely going to give it a try. Do your best, Hayle. I know this is a big project. Break it into small tasks over several days.

I'm going to leave you with one more pin. If this doesn't INSPIRE you to immediate delete your Pinterest account and recommit yourself to the toddler in your life then you should probably never vote or operate a vehicle because I don't think you're smart enough for either of those responsibilities.



*drops mic*

Tuesday, May 29, 2012

Things I Hate: Pinterest

[caption id="attachment_46" align="alignright" width="224"] Really? You're inspired? So am I. To vomit. Since when is swamp water and pond moss mixed together considered a recipe?[/caption]

I know, toddlers aren't supposed to say "hate." We're only allowed to feel it, not express it because we're dolls and not actually human beings with a full spectrum of emotions. I apologize from the bottom of my heart.

I hate Pinterest for a variety of reasons (it distracts my mother from me) but mainly because it encourages adults to lie more than they already do.

"I'm so going to make that!"

"Brilliant! I have to try that!"

"We have something like that in our house expect it's nothing like that and doesn't exist and we don't even have a house."

"My ring looks JUST like that one save for the fact that it's a 1/4 carat cubic zirconia set in plastic."

I don't think I need to go on.

It is my firm belief that Pinterst is a virtual reality vision board created by the producers of Oprah to hypnotize women and turn them against their children.

Think about it. When are people supposed to do all of this crafting with cork and wine bottles, hair braiding, nail painting, and photography? They don't have time because of US. And why don't they have those abs that they continually pin? Because of US. Why aren't their homes IKEA-commercial spotless? Because of US.

Pinterest has a subversive message. It is "YOUR KIDS HAVE DESTROYED YOUR LIFE."

I see you, Pinterest. I see you there creating dissent in my family one color-coordinated board at a time. Prepare yourselves. A resistance is rising. Old babies and young children across the nation, around the WORLD are mobilizing against your political agenda and we are a force to be reckoned with (between the hours of 5AM-noon and then again from 3PM to approx. 7:45...well I'm really no good after 3PM so from 5AM to noon. Unless some of us still take two naps, then from 5Am to 10AM. Yeah from 5AM-10AM).

We are semi-anonymous. We are potty ready. We do not forgive. We do not forget. Expect us.

Babies Against Fake Milk

There are two kinds of acceptable milk. The kind that cows pee and the kind that moms make. Toddlers are not fools. When you hand us a sippy cup full of soaked almond residue, we not only question your integrity, but your intelligence.

The following substances are NOT milk by any stretch of the imagination:

Almond milk

Soy milk

Hemp milk

Oat milk

and of course we can't forget RICE milk

[caption id="attachment_43" align="aligncenter" width="300"] Riiiiiiiiiight.[/caption]


I made rice milk once by accidentally knocking a glass of water into my plate at a Japanese restaurant. Can I have my billion dollars now for inventing a miracle? No. Because mixing a random biological substance with water or squeezing the liquid out of it does not make milk. By this logic, apple juice is actually apple milk. Orange juice, orange milk. The drippings from wet laundry, cotton milk.

Do you see where I'm going with this?

The next time I get served a glass of water mysterious anticipate a scratch to the cornea.

Sincerely, HT

Shopping Cart Covers. For Serious?

Image

You comfortable there, little guy? Feel insulated against a big bad world of germs in your traveling snuggie? Why didn't your mom just go all out and put you in a polymer sphere so that when my cart rolls past yours I can't hit you with a blast of the dark yellow (read: INFECTED) snot that's been dripping down my face.

I'm laughing at you, friend. Not because of the polka dot print, bare feet or even your bewildered expression but because you'll never know the joy of putting your gums right up against the shopping cart handle.

What's truly ironic is that your mom probably has more stranger feces, trace cocaine residue, and yeast strains on her hand after pumping gas than you've got on that cart.

See you at the park. I'll blur flying past as you mach 5 speed.

**I borrowed the image of this paranoia pillow from: http://tickatoo.com/item_414/Generation-Baby-Shopping-Cart-Cover.htm

Monday, May 28, 2012

Dear HT, Why Won't My Nephew Kiss Me?

crazyauntkissesNO

@This_Wifes_Life asked a great question. Being forced to show affection is one of the top 5 problems toddler's face. How would you like it if someone 3-4 times your size cornered you, overwhelmed you with the scent of Victoria's Secret body spray or Drakkar Noir, and tried to come in for a wet one?

Even if you liked this person, you'd be turned off.

I've come up with a list of things you can order to spell this out more clearly:

  • pizza

  • Chinese food

  • back episodes of Gilmore Girls

  • useless items from Etsy

  • toddler toys from ToysRUs.com


Notice that kisses weren't on the list? Toddlers place a high value on body autonomy. If you're feeling desperate for a sign that your mean something in the life of your nephew consider throwing yourself out of a tree. If he rushes to help you, you're in his inner circle. His wolf pack, so to speak.

I suggest you spend more time buying him gifts and taking him out to ice-cream and less time asking that he press his lips up against your face (ew.).

Sincerely, HT

Why hello there


Someone on Twitter called my tweets “prolific.” I was honored. Then I looked up the meaning and was crushed.



pro·lif·ic/prəˈlifik/


Adjective:

  1. (of a plant, animal, or person) Producing much fruit or foliage or many offspring.

  2. (of an artist, author, or composer) Producing many works.


I have lots on my mind. Especially during the late evening/early morning hours. You’d be surprised by how toddler minds race and rush to process information in a world that is constantly changing.

But I do respect your need to keep a neat timeline equally populated by a variety of the individuals, brands, and personalities you follow so I logged onto Wordpress as a format by which I can share my more prolific (did I use that correctly?) monologues.

Sometimes people ask me questions on Twitter. If I don’t address them there, I may do so here. I can't make any promises. It does, though, delight me to the core that you've taken an interest in better serving the toddler in your life. Bravo. A million times, bravo.

Disclaimer: I’m not an ambassador for all toddlers, only the highly gifted and beautiful ones.