Puppy Panty Raid *sigh*

For reasons that are too distressing for me to ponder, our puppy Picasso raided the dirty laundry basket and purloined another pair of my favorite panties.  He managed to completely digest the essential zone from a particularly nice pair....more

Hot Buttered Cobra-On-The-Cob

the best gift ever for babies and tots at babyceesnameart.comCees Beyond The Zees:  Hot Buttered Cobra-on-the-Cob...more

How I Pet My Mother

It is clearly written in the Canine Code of Conduct that there only two acceptable responses to Mortal Enemy Number Two (postman, of course, being Enemy Number One). When faced with The Dreaded Vacuum Cleaner, the rules state clearly; fight or flight. Kill it, or avoid it. These responses have evolved over thousands of years, all the way back to Cro-Magnon woman (let’s face it; if Cro-Magnon man was dragging her around by the hair, you know he wasn’t doing much of the cavework). Prehistoric pooch learned to head for high ground when the missus grabbed that cute baby Mammoth by the back legs and Swiffered him back and forth over the saber-toothed tiger rug, trunk first, a la the Flintstones. This may or may not have actually happened on the Flintstones and if it didn’t, obviously I should’ve been on the writing staff. Once, when Cro-dog sensed a particularly weak baby Wooly and moved in for the kill before he could think better of it, Cro-Maggie was forced to abort her Saturday morning cleaning routine. Success was limited, though, because the attack made quite a bloody mess, requiring the rug to be tossed out and a new baby Mammoth to be acquired by Papa Cro, who smacked CRo-ver in the butt with a rolled-up New York Times (they don’t call it a ‘dinosaur’ for nothing) and sent him to bed without no Stegosaurus burger. Buddy v. Bissell and Daisy v. Dyson are rare but inspiring cases of modern-day triumph in the epic battle of dog and machine, but dogs are generally not a litigious bunch. Most often, they choose not to stray from the Code of Conduct that, again, clearly states one is either to fight or take flight from all manner of noisy suckage. In a typical household, when faced with The Appliance Who Shall Not Be Named, the dog will either run for cover immediately or do so after first staging some level of muzzle-saving protest including growling, biting, lunging, teeth barring, and the occasional chasing of the cord. In a typical household.To which, I respond…why can’t I live in a typical household? Big Sissy has obviously not read the Canine Code to her illiterate baby brother. We know that The Big One is illiterate because, despite all manner of signage, he continues to drink from the toilet. If the one titled “List of Ingredients” didn’t stop him, by God, the boy just can’t read. Then again, given his tastes, maybe he thought that was a menu. Yes, The Big One, aka Jordan, The Dumb One, Woobie, or The One Who Will Do Anything (N.E.THING!) for a Kraft Single, is among many other things a toilet drinker. And, of course, a face-licker....more

We Like Shiny Things

Bossy asked for a 10-word description of a household project that has been avoided for a considerable time. Like, 10 years. Ten words. Ha. If a run-of-the-mill picture is worth a thousand words, then a picture of this is worth at least twice that. So, 10 words? No can-do....more

Lady Gaga is a Car Pool Mom

This appeared on angels&urchinsblog as Lady Gaga is a School Run Mum. A school run mum is a mother you might share a car pool with. Though I haven't yet got lucky enough to share a pool with Gaga, I live in hope! ...more

Shaving Strike

WARNING: This post contains graphic material so prepare yourselfDuring the end of November and all through the month of December I went on strike when it came to shaving. It was the season of jeans and boots and I had no business wasting time during my morning routine when the only person touching my legs was the Vietnamese lady at my favorite nail shop. Sure I shaved my arm pits (now that would just be plain disgusting) but the rest of my body provided a shout out to the 70s....more

Reading Between The Lines ...

A companion guide to Lost In Translation. What I said: "It's great that you're so...passionate...about that." What I meant: "Seriously you just rambled and raved like a drunken sailor coming off a 21 day binge." What I said: "Nice!" What I meant: "I have no idea what you said, I tuned you out 10 minutes ago because I was I was about to pass out from sheer boredom." What I said: "That sucks for you!" What I meant: "Sucks to be you. Heh." ...more

First object up the nose!

After playing together all morning, I stepped away from Rosie for just a moment to get a little work done this afternoon. When I heard her crying, I went to investigate and found her covered in ink. Her entire mouth and nose were completely saturated with black ink, so I thought she had sucked on the marker and drawn on her face a bit. I scooped her up and carried her to the bathroom where I pointed out her face in the mirror. Rosie was enthralled with her black teeth, and we laughed about how silly she looked....more

happy, healthy, go for it, 2010

i've never been a gym rat. not even sure what that is, actually. someone who wears spandex, wrist bands and the newest nike shox; carries diseases, has a long tail and likes to bench press? i dunno. but i do know that i like to sweat. to feel the music coursing through my body; pushing me on. sometimes i pretend i'm in a movie and the music is my theme song (did i really just admit that?). then reality hits and i realize i'm at cardio express in suburban connecticut. one of 23 people on the elliptical machine hooked up to their ipod while watching hgtv on the tv monitor. sigh. ...more