Thursday, April 26, 2012

And FINALLY Some Freaking Good News

Today? Happy kitten.
After a week of crappy news in Mommyland, which followed an even crappier week of deep, contemplative thoughts that made our brains and hearts hurt... It's f*cking time for some good news. Here's a little story like to hear it here it goes:

Once upon a time there was a really great family. In this family there was a mom, a dad, and three beautiful little girls. What this family wanted more than anything was to see the world. Not on a vacation or from a hotel window, either. They wanted to live and work abroad. To experience new cultures and learn to speak new languages and eat questionable food. They wanted to do this as a family, so they could experience these things together and grow closer.

So they asked for the chance to do that. And then they waited.

They waited for a long time.

Then they waited some more and they prayed for some idea of what the hell to do next.

Then it happened. They would get to move to Indonesia. And they were like "WOO HOOO!!!! INDONESIA!!" and their friends and family were like: "Great! Please don't die in a tsunami or terrorist attack, mmkay? Because we love you very much." But nothing could dampen their enthusiasm, even subdued congratulations from constipated-looking friends who didn't get it.

And then, after 2 months of scurrying around preparing for their adventure - they were gone.

And we were sad because we missed them. But not too sad because we knew they were where they were supposed to be and we were happy for them. And we saw pictures of them doing amazing things and having adventures. And they were SO HAPPY. Sure, there were rough spots. And a little homesickness. But everything was working out better than they'd hoped.

And we all smiled to ourselves and started to get on with our lives.

Then a text message from Indonesia.
Ellen: "I found a lump. I went to the doctor. They say they can't do anything for me here. They're sending me back to the US for tests."
Me: "WHEN?"
Ellen: "Tomorrow morning."

And my blood ran cold. Because my friend is 30 years old. And she has a family history of cancer. So my friend, with 12 hours to prepare, packed a bag and said goodbye to her three precious daughters and kissed her husband and got a plane. She had no idea what would come next or when she would see would them again.

She flew to California and stayed with her mom. And the doctors there confirmed her cancer. And she had surgery. And I wrote her a letter. And she was brave and all the people here that she left behind were terrified and cried a lot.

Then came some news.The pathology of her tumors was... Good. Better than they hoped. Her prognosis was... Good. A collective sigh of relief was heard. She would live. She would see her children again. We would not cry at her funeral. We would not watch her daughters grow up without her. We would not have to watch something unthinkably horrible unfold in front of us, helpless to stop it or make it better.

Thank you God Thank you God Thank you God. Thank you for letting her live.

Then came the choices. What should she do next? She asked her husband to come to California to help her figure that out. Would it be chemo and radiation? Would it be Tomoxifin? How many months would go by before she could go home? Before she could see her children again?

Then nothing. A week of nothing. Radio silence from Ellen. What's going on with her, anyway? Have you heard anything?

Then this:

This is me surprising the girls.

These photos were taken by Ellen's friend. Here is her blog Wanderlust and Wonder with lots more very cool photography.
And I saw these pictures and I cried my little eyes out. I mean that. I CRIED LIKE A BABY. And when I looked at them again just now? I cried some more. Because she is mending! And she is home! Her home, where there are three little girls and a husband who need her and Tsumanis and terrorists and amazing food and a community of wonderful people (who banded together to take care of her family while she was gone), and adventures around every corner.

Thank you, Mommyland, for praying for her, for wishing her well, for holding me up while I panicked about losing my friend. Thank you, Ellen, for kicking breast cancer's ass like the tiny, hardcore ninja you are. I don't think any of us who love you could have handled it if we'd lost you. We need you here, even if here is 10,000 miles away.

And now, I will stop sniveling long enough to blow my nose. Sigh... Life is hard but life is good.

xo, Lydia

(c)Herding Turtles, Inc. 2009 - 2011

Wednesday, April 25, 2012

So Now What?

         I am currently a sad kitten.
I am sad. Kate is gone.

It's my fault, too. I told her she had to tell me what she was doing. And she did. And now she's gone. She'd sort of been gone already because of her selfish need to prioritize things like parenting her children and real life responsibilities and whatnot over blogging with me, but now it's official and I feel like a piece of stool.

Maybe you noticed for the first time ever that Rants from Mommyland just went dark. No new posts for over a week. And just... nothing. Nothing on Facebook or Twitter or anything. I was too much of a sad kitten to blog. My paws felt floppy and unable to type.

Kate and I took that time to think about what we wanted to do next. It was pretty clear that we couldn't continue as as partners because stupid life just kept getting in the way.  But I didn't know if that meant we should just walk away from Mommyland all together. But neither of us wanted to do that either. We love you guys and we sort of need this place to keep us sane.

So now I will attempt to keep Mommyland rolling forward. And Louise is here to help, thank Maude. I really hope I don't let you hookers down. But Kate needs to be here too - at least in spirit. So I think we should build off my very favorite thing on Pinterest - the board I created called "Things Kate Will Hate".

My most recent pins there are things like this:

There are no words.

These mints go where now?

Lady Elaine Fairchild is freaking terrifying and will haunt your dreams.
Why do I do this? Because when Kate gets mad she looks like this:

Let's make Kate an angry kitten.
Because these images will make her mad but they are also awesome. So very, very awesome. And she will love them. Whenever you come across a picture of something that you think Kate will hate, please post it on our Facebook wall. Or email it to me at or if you know how to pin it to our board on Pinterest, go ahead and do it. And then every once in a while, we'll just run a post that is nothing but a bunch of stuff Kate will hate and she'll know we're thinking of her and we love her very much.

xo, Lydia

[Seriously? That uni-man? What in the name of Maude is that? I'm imagining I'm going to see a lot of clogs and PajamaWhatevers (because they ARE NOT JEANS!) and feathers in people's hair. But I do love the Mean Kitty. I will name her KittyKate. Get it? KittyKate. Like KittyCat. Right? Shut up. It was awesome.  -- Kate (and KittyKate)]

(c)Herding Turtles, Inc. 2009 - 2011

Tuesday, April 24, 2012

Doctor Kate Is In...And Also, Out

Hi girls...

So, as you maybe could tell for the past few days weeks months [Months? - Kate] [Yes, stupid. MONTHS. Gah. - Lydia] my attendance here in MommyLand has been a *little bit* non-existent. In the way that Lydia says that I have a *little bit* of an interest in shoes. 

We know we've told you so many times that things were getting busy -- oh that sounded porny didn't it? -- and that it was getting harder and harder *snort* to find the proper balance between home and McLovin and the IHPs and the Geriatric Gimpy Beagle (yes, he still lives, despite all medical reasons that he shouldn't...stupid science) all the other lovely little timesucks that invade on an all-too-often basis.  

Two-and-a-half years ago when we started this venture, we had no idea where it would go or what it would lead to. But after an almost book deal, a wildly fun and funny Domestic Enemies series, far too many television moments devoted to saying totally absurd things, the most awesome hooker project in the history of ever right up until last week when the Secret Service totally outdid us. [Thanks a lot Secret Service. Now we have to go even more global - Kate] and thousands of pages of posts, comments and stupidity that we are actually binding into a book, it's come time for me to relinquish my co-writer post.

Now, hold on a sec. Before you think it's all over, wait just a tic. I'm so not gone-gone. I'm just -- ummm, graduating. Totally. Lydia has bestowed me with a Mommy Emeritus status. It's like a Doctorate of Whacktacularity. A veritable PhD of Jackhole-i-ness. It means fancy letter after my name. And charging people to talk to me. And giving advice on crap that I know nothing about. It means I get to act like an ever bigger pain in the arse for Lydia because I can write and tweet and be stupid on the internet, but without the responsibility. Wait. Nooooo. But yes, sorta.

What it really does mean is that Lydia has done some epically awesome things that she wants to keep pursuing, and -- as we've all learned here in MommyLand -- friendships morph and change to keep up with what we need when we need it. Kinda like how our pants magically get bigger in the assular areas. And with Lydia fully taking the reins of MommyLand, you all will still get to enjoy all the stupidity that you've come to expect from the two of us, Lydia gets to help RFML morph and change and I get to be that bigger ass. Wait -- what?
Stupid Lydia. Talking about pants.

You know at the end of Romancing the Stone when they've defeated the bad guys and Joan is there with her sister and Jack Colton says "OK I gotta go"?

And then he says, "You're gonna be just fine. You always were." And then he swandives bellyflops off the wall? See, did this amazing thing. I got to go on this great adventure with you and find this incredible treasure and maybe even defeat some bad guys -- remember the ones who were trying to thwart the London Olympics. We totally got them. And that rat bastard squirrel who was stealing your tomatoes. And the sink that wasn't a ponytail haircut. Thwarted. All of them.

And, we'll still be here for the big things [that's what she said] like the Annual T-Box Taste Test and Helping Hookers and we even have an epic little something planned for Mother's Day that will once again flaunt our ability to take anything lovely and charming and make it sound porny and inappropriate.

Lydia, you and Guru Louise saved me when I was lost and off balance and my funny had gone to Maui and got a wicked sunburn and then got some sand rubbed in it. You listened and made me laugh and let me cry like a stupid girl and even hugged. Hugged! And I love you both like cake and always will and now I'm going to get some pom-poms and cheer like a banshee murthurfurker for you guys.

You're gonna be just fine, Lydia Coupon. You always were.

And if real life is anything like the movies -- and it is -- you're totally due to write your biggest bestseller. And that's when I'll show up. In a new pair of shoes. Crocodile ones.

xoxo Kate
Dr. Kate McLovin PhD, WK, TWSS, Esquire, M.D.

(c)Herding Turtles, Inc. 2009 - 2011

Thursday, April 12, 2012

5 Universal Laws of Kids' Birthdays

Why do kid's birthdays always seem to degenerate into a giant cluster of stress, disappointment, exhaustion and not enough juice boxes? Seriously. I want to know.

You see, I'm doing my very best not to raise bratty, over-entitled children. We give them each three presents at Christmas. THREE. We discuss with them how much things cost and what is reasonable. We talk a lot about gratitude and taking things for granted. We tell them stories about how poor mommy and daddy were when they were little. I have no idea if it's sinking in. Because when it comes to birthdays, especially with little kids - all bets are off.

I should also say that I make no effort to keep up with the Joneses and their Pinterest-perfect cupcakes. In large part because I lack the skills and resources required to do so. Once, I threw a bouncy house party with my friend Ellen and I was almost murdered by a serial killer. After that I pretty much gave up.

But I made careful study of kids and birthdays and from that, I created these five universal laws. Starting with...

1)  The Expectation Proclamation
The 7-12 days before their birthday, your child will be up your bum like a proctologist on meth. No matter how much you try and inject reason into their squirrelly little brains, it will not work. Why am I a mean mommy? Because I was unwilling to buy a large Bengal tiger. That's how toddlers are. One friend made her child cry because she said no when he asked for a power saw. He was four.

This would totally happen to me.
2) The Bait and Switch
Someone will promise to get your child a very important birthday present. The one thing they really, really want. It will be a huge relief because you really can't afford it/don't have time to track it down/insert reason here. Then without telling you, they'll change their mind and send something else like underpants or a Bratz doll. To which there is only one response. Writing a nice thank you note and hauling your ass to Target before it closes, except not in that order.

3) The Chernobyl Moment
On the actual day, the birthday kid is going to have a melt down so intense and horrifying that you're going to wonder if you need a neurological consult. They are clearly over-wrought with the excitement of it all, but this fact is easily lost in the midst of a potentially ten alarm tantrum. If it happens in public, you will be both flabbergasted at the brattiness and lack of gratitude your child is showing and also completely humiliated in front of your friends and family. Hopefully instead of getting the righteous sniff from your Aunt Suzie, someone kind will remind you that this frequently happens, pat you on the shoulder, and hand a you a refreshing adult beverage.

4)  Putting the "B" in Birthday
If you throw a party, you will probably (and temporarily) turn into a raging B. This occurs simultaneously with spending too much money and trying valiantly not to square up on the parent who comes an hour early/picks up two hours late/brings three extra kids. Don't forget the urge to be unfairly evil to your husband for no apparent reason. Also, for many of us with young children, the only time our houses get REALLY clean is when people are coming over. So in addition to the party stress, please add the need power-wash the bathrooms, steam clean the carpets, remember that you have baseboards and wash them and - oh yes - find whatever is causing that smell.

5) The Denouement
At the end of the day, you will gently tuck your beloved child into bed and ask them if they had a happy birthday. At which point your child will hug you and thank you and then say something to let you know that despite your hard work and exhaustive efforts, it was at least partially a disappointment.

Try not to let it bother you, sweetie. There there. Here's a nice adult beverage.
xo, Lydia

(c)Herding Turtles, Inc. 2009 - 2011

Wednesday, April 11, 2012

The Best 10 Minutes on the Internet - Caine's Arcade

This is Caine in his office. Photo is from
Sometimes you come across stuff on the internet and you just really have to share it. This is one of those things. Please meet 9 year-old Caine Monroy. Caine lives in East Los Angeles with his family. He spent his summer vacation last year building an elaborate arcade in the store front of his dad's junk yard and used auto parts store. He made it out of cardboard boxes and random found objects from the store room.

The arcade is ingenius. The games are awesome. You can tell this kid spent all summer and every weekend since working on it. But he only had one customer. And no one at school believed him when he said he had his own arcade. But Caine never gave up and he always kept working.

It turns out that his one customer was a film-maker named Nirvan Mullick. Nirvan thought such a great kid and such a cool DIY cardboard arcade should be shared. So he set up a surprise flashmob to make Caine happy. And it worked. And he made an amazing short film about it.

If you have ten minutes to spare, this is the sweetest, funnest, best ten minutes you can spend on the internet. I promise it will leave you smiling. And if you're a big cry baby like me, sniffling.


To learn more about this grade kid, his arcade and the film, check out Caine's Arcade. There's even a scholarship fund set up for this adorable, hard-working and brilliant little dude. Sniffle.

(C) Herding Turtles, Inc. 2009 - 2012

Tuesday, April 10, 2012

The Self-Timer Incident

How was your holiday weekend? Good? Let me tell you who did NOT begin her Easter on the right foot: my friend, Amy.

Note: Before we discuss this any further, let me just tell you that this may get a little disgusting. But if you've dealt with small children it's pretty much par for the course.

Amy had a really extra special weekend planned. Besides having two small children at Easter (which, as you know, means a lot of built-in fun and excitement over eggs, bunnies, and candy) it was also her younger daughter's 1st birthday. So Amy decided she was going to be the hostess with the mostess and have a fantastic combo Easter/Birthday party at her house this past weekend. She planned. She shopped. She scoured Pinterest. Even while managing her household, her two kids, and working overnight shifts as a kick-ass nurse, she was ready! Everything was prepared! She was so excited to celebrate her sweet baby girl!

Then disgusting disaster struck: everyone in her house got hit with the dreaded stomach virus 3 days before the party. One by one, they dropped liked flies. So, overwhelmed with disappointment and anger, Amy cancelled baby's party and resigned herself to a holiday weekend of quarantine.

But wait! That didn't mean they couldn't still have some family fun decorating eggs, right? So on Saturday evening she sat down with her gorgeous family and they did the classic egg dyeing project. When they finished their beautiful eggs she decided to set the self-timer on her digital camera and get a family photo to capture what little fun they actually got to have this weekend:

When I sent this to Kate at first she thought the baby was drinking out of a really long straw...but no....

Has a self timer ever captured anything more glorious in the history of ever? I think we can all safely say no. In Amy's words:
"This was our first "healthy" day. We had taken 2 others photos and she was on my hip. I flipped her forward for this one and right before the camera went off I noticed her belly felt really distended. I look at this picture to stop myself from crying. SERENITY NOW!"

You're my hero, Amy! But maybe we should wait a few more days to meet at the playground...

(c)Herding Turtles, Inc. 2009 - 2011

Saturday, April 7, 2012

Happy Easter

Happy Easter! Please enjoy some cuteness.

xo, Lydia, Kate & Gurur Louise

(c)Herding Turtles, Inc. 2009 - 2011

Thursday, April 5, 2012

Is it Just Me? I Want Backstory on Kids TV Shows

I sometimes think I'm the only one who wonders about bizarro things like if the Blue Wiggle is hot in real life* or what the hell happened to the redheaded girl from the Fresh Beat Band? Do you ever wonder about things like that, too?

Please say yes.

Obviously, I have young kids and we watch TV and I have no life. Don't judge me. Recently I noticed that a bunch of kids shows that I haven't seen in a while are back on the air. Like Charlie and Lola - YAY!

Also, LazyTown. You know about that one, right? It used to be on Nickelodeon about 5 years ago, but now I think it's on somewhere else and it's has a couple of humans in the cast (including a lovely little girl) but it's mostly profoundly disturbing puppets. The other humans are Sportacus (the hero, who wants everyone to exercise and not eat candy) and Robbie Rotten (the villain, who just freaks me out beyond measure).

Anyway, last night on Facebook I posted the following:

And your comments cracked me up. Because it turns out I am not alone in thinking about these things. Now, I'll be 100% honest - the show has a great message and I totally understand why people like it. I just think it's scary because I'm mentally unbalanced. And my weirdometer goes off when I see any of the LazyTown characters (expect for the little girl, who as I said before is adorable. But I worry for her. All alone in that town full of scary puppets).

This is all magnified by the fact that when the credits run, it appears that the dude who plays Sportacus (Magnus Sheving) pretty much runs the show behind the scenes, from producing it down to making the coffee. And practically every shot on the show is of his nether regions in snug-fitting track pants. So of course, because I'm a total whack job and your comments hinted on him having some neat backstory, I'm all: "I MUST GOOGLE EVERYTHING TO DO WITH LAZYTOWN RIGHT NOW." And also, laundry needed folding so this was a much better use of my time.

This is what I found, hookers! Turns out he's a big f*cking deal (as our esteemed VP Mr. Joe Biden would say) in Iceland, where he's from. He's a world class athlete (gymnastics) and a celebrated entrepreneur. And this is what he looks like:

As Sportacus with the Snidely Whiplash mustasche:

And in real life:
Oh. Well... Hi there.

That sweet girl who was in the show with the pink hair is now attending an excellent 4 year college and learned fluent Icelandic while filming the show on location in Magnus's homeland. Good for you, sweetie - far away high five!

But here's the big thing. Wait for it... Robbie Rotten. His real name is Stefán Karl Stefánsson. This is what he looks like as Robbie:
Creepy as a motherfunker.

And this is what he looks like in real life (or on Wikipedia, pretty much the same thing):

So here's what I'm thinking. Now that I've found out more about LazyTown, I need to find out what's going on with the red haired girl from The Fresh Beat Band, because something happened there. Let's hope it's interesting. Maybe the position of "red haired girl in the Fresh Beat Band" is something akin to "Spinal Tap drummer". Who knows - I sort of hope not because she seemed very nice and I would hate for her to have died in a bizarre gardening accident. 

Also? I want to know how the yellow Wiggle is doing, the one who got sick and had to quit. And you know what else? I want to find out why no Bubble Guppies songs are available for download on iTunes. I mean - what is the point in writing an ear-worm melody that is played 10,000 times if I can't put it on my damn iPod?

So, if you have any questions like this - and you want me to get you some answers - leave them here for me in the comment section. I WILL NOT LET YOU DOWN. Unless a Google search doesn't yield anything in which case, sorry but I probably will let you down a little.

xo, Lydia

*The Blue Wiggle is very attractive in real life. Very.

(c)Herding Turtles, Inc. 2009 - 2011

Wednesday, April 4, 2012

5 Dating Sites My Daughter Will Be Allowed to Use

YES! It could happen!
My daughter is almost 9 and thankfully she's still not that into boys. But some of her friends are. Some of them are starting to have crushes. It is making me insane. I swear about 5 minutes ago they were all playing Polly Pockets and asking for juice boxes.


So my husband, the incomparable Cap'n Coupon, and I discussed the future and the fact that some day (too soon) she will start to notice boys and they will start notice her. And we both were filled with dread and panic. So the Cap'n and I let our fear turn the conversation in a very stupid direction and we began suggesting a list of completely imaginary dating websites that she would be allowed to use when she's a teenager to pick her future boyfriends.

Here is that list:

Guess what? It's a secret...
They don't even have computers.
They like things simple. And if they cursed, their whole attitude would be like: "Suck it, Fancy" which is something I can really get behind.

www.Canadian and
Have fun Skyping, kids!
You can text each other, too. Just not after 10 on school nights.
You're adorable! But your breathe smells like doodoo.
Which may cut down on the making out and stuff.

www.My Dad is in Law
In order to join, you click an "I agree" statement that says: Curfews are enforced. Her father means it when he says 10pm and he has a gun.
This guy gets it.

www.I Heart My Promise
Holding hands is perfect. Do that.
Holding hands three feet apart? BETTER STILL.
If you feel like leaving me a suggestion for another imaginary dating website, that would be awesome. If I get enough good ones, I will post them and we all rejoice in our denial that our kids will ever be big enough to want to date anyone.

(c)Herding Turtles, Inc. 2009 - 2011

Tuesday, April 3, 2012

5 Places NOT to Take a Toddler

I like to think of myself as a very active mom. Some of my favorite mom-friends love to have long, quiet days with their children…but I am the total opposite. An entire day stuck at home with my two young kids means one of us is puking or feverish or having potty issues (and by potty issues I mean, learning to use it appropriately and not as a hat).

I applaud any mom who can willingly spend 12 hours in the same four walls with her offspring. I'm honestly just too lazy to entertain them alone all day. When I’m forced to do that I get cabin fever and then I break out in hives.

Are any of you out there like me? Each day we have something going on—a playdate at a friend’s house, a tricycle ride around the park, a music class at the rec center, a playground trip, you name it. These are all delightful outings that the three of us very much enjoy. Now let me tell you about the five places you should avoid taking your toddler AT ALL COSTS.

1. The Pediatrician
Obviously, this one is a no-brainer. No one wants to go here voluntarily and 9 times out of 10 you’re there because you have to be. But once or twice a year I have to stop by to pick up a prescription refill or drop off an immunization form…and each time I forget that something ALWAYS goes wrong there. For example, three months ago my older child recognized the parking lot and started having a PTSD flashback of her flu shot with lots of whining and begging…and I was like, dude, chillax, we just need vitamins.

Or there was last week when my son tripped over his own sneaker and slammed his head into the coffee table in the waiting room. He did that silent fish-mouth cry for a count of 5 and then – WOW – the wailing started. All three receptionists’ heads popped out from behind the glass and two nurses came full-speed running from the back. They wanted to do a full examination and give him ice packs and I just Maude-faced them and said in a matter-of-fact voice, “He seriously smacks his head all the time. No big deal. Since you’re here can you guys fill out my form now?” Yeah, that sorta made me look like a huge dick, especially as the golf ball-sized welt was rising from this head. I’m awesome!

2. The Barber Shop
Maybe this outing isn’t a big deal for some kids…but my little guy H-A-T-E-S getting his hair cut. There is sobbing. There is thrashing. There is usually a long stream of baby/toddler curse words uttered from his mouth. I would do it myself at home but I have really low spatial intelligence and I’m pretty sure it would look worse than Lloyd Christmas. There just doesn’t seem to be anything that helps. Last time we gave him a lollipop to suck in order to reduce the crying and the cut hair got on the lolli (*gag*) and he kept sucking it and I had to dry heave into a smock.

3. Shoe Shopping
Holy crap, y’all. Have you EVER made it out of the shoe store without a tantrum?? What is it about that store? Is it the intimidating shelves of boxes or the forced fashion show? There is a children’s shoe outlet a few towns away and I swear every time I go there either one of my kids or someone else’s child is having a schmidt-fit. In fact, it’s so predictable that I now only go twice/year to minimize the trauma.

After stalling for a month, yesterday I finally took my kids for new spring sneakers and summer sandals and they were OK…but this poor woman had a 2 year-old girl who was screaming so hard and so loud that the girl almost passed out. And then the woman’s stroller fell over and the tower of shoe boxes on top went flying and it was just all so awful. And then I noticed the mom was very pregnant and trying to restrain her daughter and they were both crying. Siiiiiiigh.

So I picked up all her stuff and wheeled everything to the front of the store and she started telling me how embarrassed she was…and I just said, “Sweetie, it’s not you. It’s the shoe store. It makes children evil.” Then my son smacked some other kid in the eye with a foot measuring device and we had to leave with no shoes. EVIL.

4. The Library
I actually really love taking my kids to the library. It’s spacious and educational…warm on a cold day and cool on a hot day…really, it’s a SAHM’s heaven. *Unless* you are the only person there with two noisy kids under age 4. Typically the antics of my kids just blend in with the din of other visiting families. But sometimes we get there and it is pin quiet…a sound I’m no longer accustomed to. In fact, for the first 5 seconds I think I’ve gone deaf.

Then the dread sets in. When we’re the only visiting family then our clamor reverberates through the whole building. Last week my daughter got yelled at for running through the stacks while my son was simultaneously de-shelving every single DVD in the children’s section, wildly searching for Bob the Builder. Good times, good times. You can go suck it, library.

5. A Restaurant
When we had kids my husband and I stopped going out to dinner for about four years. For a long time it just didn’t seem worth it to go out and overpay for a meal while managing a fussy baby and getting mean glances from patrons who don’t like me breastfeeding in public. A few weeks ago he suggested we try going to our local place for a good, old-fashioned family pizza night! I was feeling bold so I thought, what the hell? Let’s try it!

Big. Mistake.

Where do I begin? My two year-old didn’t want to sit in a high chair so he ended up standing on me in the booth. Five minutes into the meal my daughter spilled chocolate milk on my husband’s pants so it looked like he just had a diarrhea accident. My son has food allergies and couldn’t eat anything on the menu and so he alternated between howling, pouting, and throwing the back-up homemade food I brought for him on the floor. And then my daughter was gesturing and telling a story in an animated way and accidentally punched a waiter in the nuts as he was passing by with a tray of drinks.

Check please!

(c)Herding Turtles, Inc. 2009 - 2011

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