Not The Favorite
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
DIY Destruction
In the last week, I have managed to have 3 household mishaps that make me want to stop touching and doing anything for fear that the next mishap may very well 1) kill/maim me or 2) cost a whole lot to fix.
Last Thursday, I had a complete brain fart and threw my new white blouse in the washing machine with my new black pants. Yes, I know I’m an ass. I have no idea what the hell I was thinking. The blouse came out a nice dingy gray color, but the pants looked fantastic. I’m fairly certain the pants had a smirk on them when I took them out and if they could talk, they most likely would have said “Ha ha. That’ll teach you.” After two rounds of gel bleach and one round of normal bleach, mixed with normal detergent cycles in between, I ended up with a slightly yellowed version of the brilliant blouse I loved and had only worn twice before. I’m still kicking myself in the ass for that one. That was one of the few times in my life where I really wished I had a time machine.
On to Saturday afternoon. The bathroom desperately needed to be cleaned so I sent Jon out to get some toilet bowl cleaner. I was disappointed to find he returned with Saniflush, you know the kind that turns your toilet into the blue lagoon and every time you use it you flash back to your grandparents’ house. Regardless, the toilet needed to be cleaned so I decided to go ahead and use it. Turns out, my rounded-front toilet tank wouldn’t have any part of that horrid blue liquid I was about to shove in it. Because of its rounded shape, all of the mechanics inside were squished together and there wasn’t any space to put the damn bottle in and on top of that there was a lip on the inside so the bottle wouldn’t sit flush (haha) to the side making it impossible to put the top back on properly. I tried flushing to see what would happen and didn’t the lever get stuck on the damn bottle. So much for that plan and I had to remove the bastard blue bottle. I somehow had to transfer the bottle to the sink where I could replace the cap, because doing it over the tank would have been much too easy. In the process of moving the bottle and replacing the cap, I dyed my fingers blue. They are still blue, like Chevy Chase Vegas Vacation blue.
And then last night. I broke my dryer. I was trying to fish a piece of Lauren’s overalls out of the lint trap with a magnetic chip clip attached to dental floss. Well, the trap was a wee bit deeper than I thought it was, not that it mattered with the ten feet of floss I used. Now, the deepness of the trap wasn’t much of a concern, it was when the magnet stuck itself to the side and then got caught on something that I became concerned. I pulled on the floss and it came out. Without the magnet. Crap. Out of sheer curiosity, I turned on the dryer to see what would happen. The most god-forsaken, ear-splitting, groaning/screaming noise emitted itself from that poor machine. I immediately turned it off and decided that for the safety of myself and the other appliances, who I’m sure were cowering with fear as I walked into the kitchen to tell Jon what an ass I was, that I would just stop doing anything and avoid all eye contact with the dryers buddies: washing machine, dishwasher, stove and refrigerator. I will call the repair man tonight to come and fix you and tell you that he won’t let that awful woman touch you again.
Last Thursday, I had a complete brain fart and threw my new white blouse in the washing machine with my new black pants. Yes, I know I’m an ass. I have no idea what the hell I was thinking. The blouse came out a nice dingy gray color, but the pants looked fantastic. I’m fairly certain the pants had a smirk on them when I took them out and if they could talk, they most likely would have said “Ha ha. That’ll teach you.” After two rounds of gel bleach and one round of normal bleach, mixed with normal detergent cycles in between, I ended up with a slightly yellowed version of the brilliant blouse I loved and had only worn twice before. I’m still kicking myself in the ass for that one. That was one of the few times in my life where I really wished I had a time machine.
On to Saturday afternoon. The bathroom desperately needed to be cleaned so I sent Jon out to get some toilet bowl cleaner. I was disappointed to find he returned with Saniflush, you know the kind that turns your toilet into the blue lagoon and every time you use it you flash back to your grandparents’ house. Regardless, the toilet needed to be cleaned so I decided to go ahead and use it. Turns out, my rounded-front toilet tank wouldn’t have any part of that horrid blue liquid I was about to shove in it. Because of its rounded shape, all of the mechanics inside were squished together and there wasn’t any space to put the damn bottle in and on top of that there was a lip on the inside so the bottle wouldn’t sit flush (haha) to the side making it impossible to put the top back on properly. I tried flushing to see what would happen and didn’t the lever get stuck on the damn bottle. So much for that plan and I had to remove the bastard blue bottle. I somehow had to transfer the bottle to the sink where I could replace the cap, because doing it over the tank would have been much too easy. In the process of moving the bottle and replacing the cap, I dyed my fingers blue. They are still blue, like Chevy Chase Vegas Vacation blue.
And then last night. I broke my dryer. I was trying to fish a piece of Lauren’s overalls out of the lint trap with a magnetic chip clip attached to dental floss. Well, the trap was a wee bit deeper than I thought it was, not that it mattered with the ten feet of floss I used. Now, the deepness of the trap wasn’t much of a concern, it was when the magnet stuck itself to the side and then got caught on something that I became concerned. I pulled on the floss and it came out. Without the magnet. Crap. Out of sheer curiosity, I turned on the dryer to see what would happen. The most god-forsaken, ear-splitting, groaning/screaming noise emitted itself from that poor machine. I immediately turned it off and decided that for the safety of myself and the other appliances, who I’m sure were cowering with fear as I walked into the kitchen to tell Jon what an ass I was, that I would just stop doing anything and avoid all eye contact with the dryers buddies: washing machine, dishwasher, stove and refrigerator. I will call the repair man tonight to come and fix you and tell you that he won’t let that awful woman touch you again.
Labels: Clumsy
Tuesday, May 08, 2007
Go Go Gadget Claws!
So, this weekend I found myself in a comment war. I’m not really sure how it started and I only found out because the owner of the blog left me a comment here saying that things were really heating up over the issue I commented on. The issue? “How early is too early for crying it out?" this was my comment
“I started at 6mths. She cried for about 45mins but the next night it was 30 mins and the following night was 15 mins. By the end of the week, she was going to bed without a peep. She's 21 mths now and bedtime is a breeze.”
I didn’t realize this would create so much drama. Next thing I know, people are telling me “how dare I tell someone to let a 3mth old cry it out? Don’t you think maybe they might need something?” I shot back about how they should re-read my comment and that I was in now way telling someone they should do anything. It went back and forth about them insinuating I’m a bad mother and then me saying they shouldn’t use off-the-cuff remarks about people.
In the end, someone finally commented that we were setting a great example for our kids. I removed all comments aside from the original and left it at that. Honestly, I really didn’t think I was setting a bad example for anyone. I only tried to emphasize that I never tried to tell anyone what to do. As parents, we can only do what we feel is best and that it not my place to pass judgment or push my advice. Of those who have asked for my advice, I simply stated that this is what worked for me.
Your opinion is just that your opinion, not anyone else’s. I find it very annoying when people offer unsolicited advice to mothers and insist that “this is best.” “Best” is subjective. It may be best for her child, not yours. Every kid is different and every parent is different. We even parent each of our kids differently.
To this anonymous commenter who tried to make me feel bad, you are the reason I haven’t joined a play group. You are the mother I avoid at all cost. You are the person who makes others feel bad to make you feel good. You are not the expert of any child, but your own. I will not EVER tell someone they should/must do something because a book/article told me to. A book is a guide, not the be-all end-all in child rearing. So, you can shove your Dr. Sears “bible” up your ass. Oh, you might want to remove the stick first.
Don’t think that I missed your point either. See, I read comments thoroughly before I make an ass out of myself. I understand that you were just trying to make the point that there are other methods to get baby on a sleep schedule. And I never said there weren’t. Your problem is that you should have just posted your advice and not asked “How dare you…” That’s just asking for a verbal whipping.
Feel free to post a comment here, Anonymous. As long as I play fair and not give any low blows, I can’t ever be a bad example to my child by sticking up for myself.
“I started at 6mths. She cried for about 45mins but the next night it was 30 mins and the following night was 15 mins. By the end of the week, she was going to bed without a peep. She's 21 mths now and bedtime is a breeze.”
I didn’t realize this would create so much drama. Next thing I know, people are telling me “how dare I tell someone to let a 3mth old cry it out? Don’t you think maybe they might need something?” I shot back about how they should re-read my comment and that I was in now way telling someone they should do anything. It went back and forth about them insinuating I’m a bad mother and then me saying they shouldn’t use off-the-cuff remarks about people.
In the end, someone finally commented that we were setting a great example for our kids. I removed all comments aside from the original and left it at that. Honestly, I really didn’t think I was setting a bad example for anyone. I only tried to emphasize that I never tried to tell anyone what to do. As parents, we can only do what we feel is best and that it not my place to pass judgment or push my advice. Of those who have asked for my advice, I simply stated that this is what worked for me.
Your opinion is just that your opinion, not anyone else’s. I find it very annoying when people offer unsolicited advice to mothers and insist that “this is best.” “Best” is subjective. It may be best for her child, not yours. Every kid is different and every parent is different. We even parent each of our kids differently.
To this anonymous commenter who tried to make me feel bad, you are the reason I haven’t joined a play group. You are the mother I avoid at all cost. You are the person who makes others feel bad to make you feel good. You are not the expert of any child, but your own. I will not EVER tell someone they should/must do something because a book/article told me to. A book is a guide, not the be-all end-all in child rearing. So, you can shove your Dr. Sears “bible” up your ass. Oh, you might want to remove the stick first.
Don’t think that I missed your point either. See, I read comments thoroughly before I make an ass out of myself. I understand that you were just trying to make the point that there are other methods to get baby on a sleep schedule. And I never said there weren’t. Your problem is that you should have just posted your advice and not asked “How dare you…” That’s just asking for a verbal whipping.
Feel free to post a comment here, Anonymous. As long as I play fair and not give any low blows, I can’t ever be a bad example to my child by sticking up for myself.
Labels: People Are Stupid, Rants
