Accessorizing

I am trying to wrap my mind around the whole idea of wearing scarves as accessories.  I just don't get it.  Who came up with the brilliant idea to put some fabric around your neck so you can pretend to be strangled every day?  Plus, that shit is usually all flowy and whatnot, so it is all free flowing and moving and, in my opinion, really really annoying.  Like dangly earrings.  I don't want that shit pulling at my earlobes every time I whip my head around because I have caught Charlie trying to hog tie her sisters again.

I have never been much for accessorizing, though.  I have one purse.  I wear the same jewelry every day (and ironically, for someone who does not wear much jewelry, 3/4 of it is stuff my husband has bought me...my wedding ring, the anniversary band, and the mother's ring.  The fourth piece is my necklace that I have for my son.)  I do have a bit of a shoe thing going on, but even then I am more likely to buy shoes for my kids than for myself.  Hell, let's face it...most days my job is lucky that I show up clothed, including pants, and looking at least a step above a hobo living behind Aldi's in the dumpster.  To try to pick out jewelry, a purse, a belt, AND shoes?  That is simply too high of an expectation for me.  Sorry not sorry.

(And sorry again for that last sentence.  I just always wanted to use it and never got the chance, so I took this one and not only embraced it, I french kissed it and dry humped its leg.)

Elizabeth always manages to look put together.  She does her hair all cute and always has a nice, classy outfit on that is appropriately accessorized. She clearly was able to figure that shit out on her own because she sure as hell got zero guidance from me with that.  I'm hoping she passes that down to her sisters too, cause otherwise people might mistake us for a band of miscreants and throw rotten tomatoes at us.  And by God, we could be COMPOSTING those tomatoes!

My hope for the little girls as adults is that when they go out in public with me, people will smile at all of us and say to themselves, "What lovely children to take their obviously senile mother on an outing!"  My inability to accessorize has its perks, because really I have set the bar so low that when I am old, people won't be like "Oh remember when she was so put together?"  Instead, they will all be like "Holy fuck, she finally went completely crazy!"  I want to be the old lady who wears her bathrobe and slippers to the gynecologist because one may as well be comfy, amiright?  I also don't want my children to have to go through mountains of accessories when they stick me in a home, on top of all of the other shit I will have accumulated and the other concerns they might have, like finding my sex toys or dead bodies in the walls.  It's really just one less thing for them to worry about.

See?  My lack of fashion sense is actually me caring deeply for my children.  And that, bitchez, is how a therapist helps reframe irrational cognitions to be more helpful.  Except it's not usually that delusional.  And honestly, that's not really an irrational thought.  And it's more a rationalization than an appropriate reframe.

Sorry not sorry.

(YESSSSS!!!!  TWICE!!!!)

Simplifying

It's Christmastime!

This is actually one of my favorite times of the year.  I distinctly remember my father bringing down all of the decorations and getting the house all gussied up; the lights all on the outside.  I remember going to get the tree and decorating it while listening to Christmas Carols.  I remember having to put the goddamned tinsel on one piece at a time, which contributed to  my totally irrational fear of tinsel and why we never ever have any in my house.  I remember the seemingly endless nights of baking Christmas cookies and nut rolls and poppy seed rolls.

It was so magical when I was a kid.  It seemed so easy.  This was before I knew that Christmas could be a stressful time.  Before I knew what it cost.  The stresses of having to deal with family members that you don't really like.  Before I knew that there were people who did not have Christmas.  Before I knew that for some people, Christmas was a symbol of how they have failed according to the American Dream of having more and more.  Hell, before I was even aware that there were people who did not celebrate Christmas...

Given that I am now working as much as I am, I was forced this year to simplify our Christmas.  I never do Christmas cards, because even before this  year I refused to send them unless I was able to write a personal note in them (which of course, I was not.)  I don't do a Christmas letter because...well, it's probably good I don't.  I am not baking much of anything.  We decorated, but I did not go crazy.  I did almost all of my shopping online this year.  Send that shit right to my door without me having to leave my house, deal with people, or put pants on?  Fuck yeah!

I am still, however, room mom for Alexis's class party.  Even her teacher must have known I was simplifying because all I have to bring in is hot chocolate.  Score!  However, I am also in this purging stage of my life and I  have had up in my attic for a few years now a bunch of shit I bought on clearance one year...some Christmas cups, straws, erasers, stickers, and bouncy balls.  I decided that I was going to go ahead and throw some "goody cups" together for the kids using this stuff to get it out of the house.  Yes, I am *that* parent...not only am I going to give your kid cheap Christmas shit for you to have to smuggle out of your house but I am not going to give you any chocolate or candy to steal from them to make up for it.

So I was making these goody cups, all proud of myself that I was being health conscious AND simplifying at the same time, when I caught a glimpse of an elf eraser that I had tossed into one of the cups:

Yes, this is a decapitated elf eraser, in what appears to be the red tube of death, AKA, the red snowflake cup.

So not only am I simplifying this Christmas season, I am contributing to your third grader's psychological issues via inadvertent elf decapitation.  Merry Christmas, bitchez!  May all your dreams (but not your elf-related nightmares, which are apparently super creepy...) come true!

Hacks

There is a trend that I have noticed lately of people posting these "life hacks" on various social media.  Basically, these hacks are supposed to be ways that make your life easier, but being the eternal pessimist that I am, I read them as pointing out all of the ways that you are doing life wrong.  This varies from how you cut your avocado to how you fill up your mop bucket.

Fuck that shit.  I feel inadequate enough on my own, thanks to Pinterest and the voices in my head.  I want some kind of life hack that is going to not only make people feel better but is actually going to be useful to me in my day to day life.

Thus, the idea for parenting hacks was born.

Here are my top five:

1.)  Tired of fights on rainy days between the children?  Invest in some bubble wrap.

Seriously.  That shit is so entertaining, not only for them but for you.  There is a certain satisfaction in popping those tiny bubbles and pretending that they are the heads of people you want to punch in the throat but can't cause you will totes get fired.  Plus the children can get creative with it.  Like Charlie did the other day:

Always said that Charlie was either going to be President or a serial killer...but super successful either way.  Looks like we are leaning towards serial killer.

2.)  Tired of struggling to get your toddler dressed?  Do you feel as though you have wrestled a greased pig after getting them dressed?  Do you sweat and ache after like you have just completed P90X?

Fuck clothes.  Seriously.  Most toddlers would rather be naked anyways.  Pants optional?  Why the hell not?

3.)  Pizza cutters can be your new best friend!  From trimming fondant from the bottom of cakes, to quickly cutting quesadillas, to easily removing those pesky crusts that some asshole kid told your kid were the devil...they can do everything it seems.  Including, oh...actually cutting pizza!  Because let's be honest...that pie you grabbed on the way home from work is not actually cut all the way through.  And nothing is more irritating than the pointy part of your slice ripping off because some pimple faced teenage boy was too busy staring at his coworker's butt to pay attention to actually cutting all the way through.  And if one kid's pizza slice is pointy and the other's isn't...dear sweet mother of God, the wailing and gnashing of teeth that will ensue...

4.)  Two words:  Santa Claus.  Seriously.  Even if you aren't Christian and/or don't celebrate Christmas, you need to exploit the fuck out of this dude.  When singers of yore were merrily trilling about "the most wonderful time of the year" they certainly weren't referring to the birth of their lord and savior Jesus Christ.  No, they were referring to the fact that the creepiest of traditions was about to start.  No better way to get your children to behave than to instill in them a healthy fear of stalkers.  And seriously...since Christmas shit starts coming out in stores in like August now, you  may as well milk the shit out of the Santa situation and use it to threaten them into submission.  If I am going to be forced to smell cinnamon pine cones and look at glittery ornaments and blinking lights at the same time as I am forced to see the dregs of humanity that inhabit the local Walmart on 90* days in the dog days of summer while simultaneously trying to buy the stuff needed for the school supplies list (really?  A two pocket orange folder with prongs?  THEY DON'T FUCKING EXIST!!!) I am sure as shit going to shamelessly use the idea that some old guy in a red suit is judge and jury of a kid's behavior.

5.)  You know how when you get sick, those pesky children still expect things like meals, immunizations, and a free and appropriate public education?  And you know how you are just about dying and your mom isn't around to tuck you in and pour medicine down your throat?  And you know, just know, that one goddamned day of rest will make you feel so much better?

TV.

Yes, it rots your kid's brain.  Yes, it is totally bad parenting to expect the television to babysit.  Yes, the shows are annoying as hell but have the equivalent effect of a powerful drug.  You need to get better to be able to parent.  Use the fucking boob tube, ignore the children for a day, and heal.

These, bitchez...these are REAL life hacks.  You're welcome.