Itsa Poop Fest!

Tips for hand washing cloth diapers.  Because maybe you like to pretend you live in the 1800's.

1.  Approximately 1 week before attempting to wash your cloth diapers by hand, begin feeding your wee babe a diet of cheese and apples.  This will ensure they create those cute little turdlettes that roll right into the toilet leaving the diaper nearly clean.*

2.  Approximately 3 days before attempting to wash your cloth diapers by hand, use your tub to shave your legs.  I chose 3 because you don't want to turn into Chewbaca, however you don't want to give your husband the expectation that you'll be shaving your legs any more often.  Also, after you see what floats in your tub, you won't want to take a bath in there.

3.  It should go without saying, but every time your little darling poops, flush it down the toilet!  The job is long, nasty and TERRIBLE if you don't.  This is true whether doing this by hand or using your washer.  Even if you use disposable diapers, you're supposed to do that.  No, for reals.  Go check the side of the package...  I'll wait...

...

...

see????  No, no one does that... but you should.

4.  I keep my diapers in a 'wet bag'.  They are AMAZINGLY awesome. I used to just throw them in old grocery bags 'til wash day, but that was just nasty.  The wet bag keeps the smells to itself.  Of course, after a few days of sitting in a bag, the dirty diapers could very easily burn your nose hairs.  I filled the bath tub for the first soak, set the wet bag in there and filled it up with water.  I never smelled a dang thing.  'Twas a better smell experience than using the washer!

5.  I use a big paint stick to slosh 'em around.  Not because I'm worried about getting my hands dirty...  I long ago gave up on that...  it's the bowling ball that prohibits me from bending over correctly.

6.  Approximately......  *here*  .......you'll be glad you shaved your legs.  Drain tub.  Fill with warm water.  Use detergent.  Soak forever.

7.  Drain the tub.  You're nearly there.  Fill back up with warm water and detergent.  Scrub 'em up!

8.  Drain the tub, rinse 'em out and SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEZE.  You'll never do as good a job as your washer.  (frowny face.)  Hang them out to dry and fluff them in your dryer so they're soft for the lil' one's tushy.  Your electric bill will thank you.

9.  Get yourself a cold drink.  You'll feel like you worked all day, but you only did one measly, very specific laundry load for the day.   Everyone else still expects clean clothes too.

10.  Don't feel bad for me.  We just haven't had the time to fix the effed-up-laundry situation.  We're thinking 'pipe-snake' before we go full-on new pump.  We've got A LOT of ridiculous stuff (no, really, you wouldn't believe me if I told you) coming to a head (gross analogy) this weekend... then it's project laundry and project classroom.  Hell or high water.  Really.






*Don't be a moron.  Some of these things are just silly.  Don't really feed your kid a diet of cheese.  Although it may seem handy.

Time to Sharpen Your Weapons.

Well, it's here folks.  Time to load up your bunker, sharpen your Gerber weapons and review your zombie killing skills.

Why?

thesouptv.com

I find this to be completely disturbing.

Here's a few more articles I've dabbled in this week:

Police stunned by child dismemberment

Maryland man charged with killing, eating man's brain, heart

Police:  Homeless Woman Snatches Baby From Stroller, Tries to Eat Its Arm

Man Accused of Eating Wife's Lips

...sooo, I'm not sayin'... I'm just sayin'...

Don't you worry... at least if the Zombie Apocalypse is nigh, you won't have to contemplate giving birth in the woods.

But hey, I got my sassy pants on... everything's gonna be alright.

Happy... Weekend...?

...In Which We Learn Not To Say 'Fucking'

I'm going to say fuck in this entry a lot... mmmkay??  And it shall be a true testament to my amazing parenting skills...  my fortitude and well... my children's education about four letter words.  I've been told by a lot of people to write this story down.  Where?  I don't keep baby books... well... I tried... with Coop.  I wrote something in Z's.  I bought one for Max.  I didn't even bother with Lola.  And not that it is baby book material.  So, if ya know me, you've heard it... but here we go.  I have no where else to plant it.

Picture it.  mmm... let's call it Wednesday.  It must have been last Wednesday because that is just the worst day of the week.  The Hubs' job has decided it will throw just a huge wrench in our entire schedule by working the Hubs some pretty strange long hours on that day.  While I obviously love these children and they are mine to care for, by 8:00pm Wednesday night I frankly feel like I could die.  It's just a long ass day.  Last Wednesday was one of those.  I do not recall smiling most of the day.  I don't necessarily remember why... could have been any number of things...  money?  messy house?  too much to do?  lack of sleep?  want of coffee?  prego belly weighing me down? kids' bad attitude?  MY bad attitude?  mayhaps all of the above?  Likely all of the above.

I will spare you the gory details.  They are boring.  The day was boring... and that was probably most of the problem.  Coop had complained about a bug downstairs.  Noted that it was huge.  I ignored the whole thing and proceeded with my evening.  I put the youngest two down for bed.  Lola is always so easy... Max always screams.  Ah, Wednesday.  While shuffling the eldest two down I noticed on the stairs something... eh, large.  A shoe maybe?  Someone's discarded size 22 sock??  Mayhaps someone's freaking PET CAT???  DEAR.  GOD.   Realizing I couldn't make waves, lest the entire thing would go up in smoke right in front of my eyes... less quiet time to read... less Calgon time...  I chose to ignore the monstrous bug, climb over it and proceed down the stairs, noting that I would be back with perhaps a shot gun to take care of the thing.  The kids lay down in their bunkbed and I said I'd be right back.  Fly swatter in hand, I proceeded back up the stairs where this "bug" sat waiting for me in the foyer.  What was I to do??  What any normal tired person would do... proclaim to myself, "DAMN.  That is a HUGE fucking bug!" 

To be fair, I totally thought I was out of earshot.  I drowned that bitch in the toilet and made my way back down the stairs to the laundry room that sits adjacent to the boys' bedroom.  Everything was quiet...  for a moment...  and then I heard the tiny voice of Z say to his brother,

"Coop!" in a whisper, "that was a Fucking Bug because it was so big."

Silence continues.  I shake my head quickly like a cartoon character.  Nope, couldn't be.

"Cooper.  That was a Fucking Bug because it was so big. That's its name."

I could only imagine from the laundry room Coop's eyes getting as big as saucers and praying I hadn't heard his little brother.  While imagining... I was also laying all over the washing machine trying to keep my laughter to myself.  Sorta.

"Cooper!  That was a FUCKING BUG because it was so big!!"

"Uh, Zander... I don't think think you should say that."

"BUT IT WAS A FUCKING BUG!"

"ZANDER!  DON'T!"

This is where I interjected.  I couldn't let the madness continue... as funny as it was.  Poor guy.  They are all kinds of into Wild Kratts and Nature and Nova.  He was just excited he knew the bug's name!  That's all.  He tried to tell me then too about the Fucking Bug.  It's these snapshots of life that make it all fun.  I heard myself say, "Now Zander, we don't say 'fucking'.  That's not a nice word." and I giggled inside.  These are the times, right??

Well, I suppose I need to learn that we don't say 'fucking'.

Especially When It Looks Like Nothing

So I've heard I shouldn't blog if I'm bored.  Makes for bad reading.  What if I instead said I feel rather bored, yet I am also so damn busy I can't see straight.  I once read a book... well, okay it was pretty boring...so I skimmed it... but it was called "What Mothers Do (Especially When It Looks Like Nothing).  In it, the author brought up the fact that while a mom multi-tasks a hundred things at once (it's a hundred, right?!) if she was to answer the phone in the midst of it, she'd probably say, "Oh, I wasn't busy".  WRONG.  The author proved her point much better than I could, but I know exactly where she's coming from.  In a moment I'm going to go work on some first grade math while scrubbing my kitchen floor while the dishwasher's running while the dryer is running while the clothes washer is running while the kids are napping while the casserole is thawing while I'm wondering if I'll freaking know how to sew on Boy Scout badges when the Hubs gets home with them while baking a small human inside my uterus...  (and breathe.)  ...And if you were to call me right now I'd say, "Ah naw... go ahead... I wasn't up to anything."

Anyhoo...I damn near (gasp.) vlogged something today because it's been one of THOSE days.  Ie:  at breakfast the children decide to see if they can hit the same note at the top of their lungs in unison.  I was doing laundry at the time and could only just laugh and thought, "Boy motherhood is a... blessing...?"  And then I thought of you, dear reader, because that shit was funny.

I also caught this today:

This is a picture of two toddlers picking up a gigantic mess they made without being asked.  Now, I know they just like to sing "Clean up, clean up" together, but Ima pretend its a product of good breeding... mmmkay?  But proof my day is not all for naught. 

If you want a random track update, I thought I would add that this kid:

jumped 10 damn feet at district.  He didn't even get first place.  What the what??  What do Olympians jump?  This blows my mind.  I'm going to blame the hormones in food or some other soapbox.  Crazy.

Random skinny picture of me:

They don't come around often and simply must be shared.  I apologize. 

Happy Monday, ya'll.

Not Brad Pitt

Here.  Have a giggle.  Stick with it, the kids and I think this is just hi-larious.

Is it wrong to be so in love with Ricky Gervais and his cute and squishy self??  mmm.