Thursday, March 17, 2011

The Great Diaper Switch




Disclaimer: This letter is based on the "Dear Life Cereal" letter from Family Guy. Thank you Family Guy writers, there is no way I could ever be as funny as you.

Dear Luvs Diapers,
Where do you get off? Less bulk and absorbent? Who do you think you are? By now, you may have guessed I'm speaking ironically and have nothing but good things to say about what you do. Luvs Diapers, do not change a thing.
Signed,
The Modern Homemaker
Dictated but not read

Apparently two weeks ago the Army Corp of Engineers rerouted Niagara Falls into Scooter's diaper and didn't tell me. I found out when I got her up from her nap and noticed her crib had turned into a protected wetland. The egret flying down the hall should of been a clue as to what awaited me. So I went to Babies R Us. There was no way I was using the diapers I've pretty much used for the past year anymore. I won't say their name, but let's just say it rhymes with Schmuggies. So I'm walking toward the diaper aisle when I hear what sounds like a choir of angels. Suddenly from above I see the most beautiful golden light streaming down to a stack of purple boxes. There, in front of me, is 204 Luvs diapers for less than what I paid for 140 of Schmuggies. Hallelujah! When I left the store I must have looked like Lindsay Lohan stealing a necklace because I seriously thought I was getting away with something.

When I got home and schlapped one of these bad boys on Scooter, I started grabbing two of everything and loading the ark. There was no way these paper thin diapers were going to hold up to what Scooter had in store. Well, three hours later (because someone got side tracked with dinner, I know, bad mom) and a lot of moving and shaking on Scooter's end, her clothes were still dry. Plus she told me she likes the way they make her butt look. Not really, she's only one, has a vocabulary of three words, and doesn't even know she has a butt. So this household is officially converted, even though I still hate their creepy commercials.

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

Holy crap it's spring!


So somehow the change of seasons has snuck up on me once again. This might be due to the fact that I just got around to taking down my outside Christmas lights last weekend... oops. While I love to say goodbye to winter, I'm a bit unprepared for spring. I had big plans for this winter, and somehow none of them were accomplished because, and let's be honest here, my plans were the equivalent of ten pounds of poo, and my time was only a five pound bag. So spring, I'm officially pissed at you right now, and here's why.

  1. You are officially the Charlie Sheen of all the seasons. One day you're seventy degrees and sunny and the next day you forget to drink your tiger blood and are twenty five below and icy. I refuse to bring my flip flops out until April because, seriously, if I did it before then you'd drop the mother of all snow bombs on me. Plus, I haven't painted my toes since mid-October and it's gonna take me until April to shape up those talons.

  2. Spring signals the return of pollen. Now, I was blessed with the ultimate of all non-allergy genes. And while the hubs likes to think of himself as the perfect male specimen, he really got shafted when it comes to allergies. I mean, this guy can just think of a tree and start sneezing. So spring also signals the return of the "man allergies" which is kind of like the man cold, only it's accompanied by me constantly nagging him with the "Why don't you just go to the damn allergist?!"

  3. I can no longer blame my super lame landscaping on the deadness of winter. Now I love to garden as much as the next guy, maybe more, but I have what's known as that-woman-can't-estimate-the-area-of-her-flower-bed disorder. Very very tragic and unfortunate, no cure either. It's not until I actually get outside and start to garden that I remember, "Crap, these things go all the way around the house and then some!" This is about the time that I blame Scooter for being fussy for why I couldn't get everything planted and mulched.

  4. Finally, daylight savings time. I mean, who the hell thought up this little gem? And why the hell does it happen on the weekend? Everyone wouldn't be so pissed with it if it happened on a Friday at 4pm. And seriously, I didn't realize how many damn clocks were in my house until I had to turn them all forward. Ok, that's not true, most of them were never changed back in October.

So spring, there it is. I know you aren't all that bad, you're not as bad as that frigid bitch winter, I'll give you that. And you do bring some pretty great things along with you, like Cadbury Eggs. So for that, you'll get a pass.

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

My little shoplifter


Last week I decided to take Scooter to Macy's for a little shopping. She needed a first birthday and Easter dress, and really, I just needed to get out of the house. So away we went, I even took her big comfy stroller since this wasn't just going to be a one store shopping trip. Well, her big stroller can sometimes obstruct my view of her, especially when I'm distracted by all the cute spring outfits and trying to decide if $50.00 is too much to spend on one dress (it isn't by the way, not when it's the cutest Easter dress known to man). So, about fifteen minutes and seven new outfits later, I go to checkout. The lady rings me up and tells me my total. I turn to retrieve my wallet from one of the eighty seven bags required when taking a baby out only to see my sweet little Scooter with a stuffed duck in one hand and the price tag, ripped from the duck's ass, in the other, about to be inserted into her mouth. I grab the tag out of her hand, hand it to the sales lady, and say "Well, I guess we've bought this too."

Sigh, my sweet girl has turned into a little shoplifter. I must admit though, before we left I did take her through the purse department with a little glimmer of hope.