Wednesday, April 30, 2014

News flash: I am weird.

For those of you that have been around here for a while, the fact that I am a bit strange will come as no surprise to you. I share too much, make an ass of myself too often and have absolutely no sense of shame. So when the lovely folks at Zazzle offered me a chance to try out a few of their goods, I actually felt a bit sorry for them. Because they had absolutely no idea what they were getting themselves into.

They probably didn’t think that I would order up things like this:
Because who doesn’t need a pillow that displays Fatty’s bitchy resting face?
Or this:
This was actually so cool my husband stole it. Bastard.
And a few of these...

Most people probably don't print pictures of their kids crying...

Or, god forbid, these:

Come on, these are AWESOME!

My overall thought on their new offerings? Amazeballs. Seriously. I used them years ago to make a shirt for my husband that said, “I don’t have ADD… Oh look! A Penny!”. I hadn’t been back since but once I did check them out again, I was amazed by all of the cool crap they have now. They are like an Etsy store for artists that offers personalization.

AND, they were cool enough to offer a 15% off code to my readers: BEERANDBABIE (expires May 15). Use it to get yo momma something special for Mother's Day. Enjoy, Boozehounds!

If you share this post, I will buy you a pony. I suck at Twitter. I am OK at Facebook. Pinterest is my bitch. I am also on Bloglovin' and Instagram.

This post was sponsored by Zazzle but you Boozehounds know I would NEVAH EVAH subject you to anything I didn't think was amazeballs on my own. For realzies.

Tuesday, April 15, 2014

Harvey and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Twos

My son has recently entered the terrible twos. Well, I am not sure if that is what is happening or if he is possessed by a demon. I'm hoping it is demon possession because that is way easier to fix.

Its bad. Real bad. I mean so bad that those of you looking to expand your families should stay tuned because I may soon have a gently-used two-year-old up for sale in the next few weeks. Or hours. Fuck.

Here are just a few things that have elicited a toddler-size rage in my son in the last TWO DAYS:
  1. I made him put on socks.
  2. I made him throw away the banana peels he was grinding into the carpet.
  3. I made him stop standing in the freezer and throwing all the food onto the ground.
  4. I made him put on pants.
  5. I tried to feed him a carrot.
  6. I gave him milk when apparently he wanted another beverage.
  7. I made him put shoes on.
  8. I put on Thomas instead of Spider-man.
  9. I wiped his snotty nose.
  10. I made him stop licking the cat (seriously).
  11. I made him put a coat on.
  12. I gave him the wrong color woobie (blankie)
  13. I changed his poop-filled diaper.
  14. I gave him water in the wrong cup.
  15. I held his hand in the parking lot so he didn't get hit by a car.
  16. I wouldn't let him beat an umbrella against the glass at the zoo.
  17. I wouldn't let him open a 25th package of crackers when he had eaten none of the previous 24.
  18. I put shorts on him and his knees were naked.
  19. I took my prescription bottle away from him so he couldn't down an entire bottle of antidepressants.
  20. I made him put on pants again. I know, I'm a real bitch about the pants thing.

So, needless to say, The Cool Cucumber is not very "Cool" at the moment. Though I guess he sort of resembles a cucumber because he is being a real dick at the moment. Please send prayers. And alcohol.

If you share this post, I will buy you a pony. I suck at Twitter. I am OK at Facebook. Pinterest is my bitch. I am also on Bloglovin' and Instagram.

Wednesday, April 9, 2014

Advice Under the Influence

Today I am doing a wrap-up of my web series with ulive, Advice Under the Influence. If you missed any of the episodes or forgot to send them to everyone you have ever met because, you know, you have a life, I wanted to give you a chance to see how much of an idiot I truly am in real life. Enjoy!

How to Dress Your Toddler

If you have ever tried to dress a toddler, you know that it is an infuriating endeavor. In this video I explore some of the finer points of stuffing a toddler into clothing while trying to maintain sanity.

Getting Your Toddler to Sleep

If your kids are anything like mine, getting them to sleep through the night can be harder than Ron Jeremy’s…skull. I have a few tips to help get your kiddos to sleep all night…in their OWN beds!

Getting Your Toddler to Eat

Every played a game of culinary roulette? If you have a toddler/tween/teenager/husband I bet you have. Ante up and see what you can do to make dinnertime less of a gamble.

Why You Should Buy a Minivan

Think minivans are about as sexy as Joan River’s lady bits? Think again. I explain why having a minivan is not only awesome, but also downright sexy. MeYOW!

Potty Training Bootcamp

Ready to commence with commode command? I have some tips to make potty training your tot a bit less shitty (see what I did there? BOOM!).

How to Throw the Perfect Kids Party

Children’s parties tend to make my eye twitch. Crying, whining, endless needs—and that’s just the parents of the attendants. I break down a few insider tips to make your next party a smashing success.

If you share this post, I will buy you FIVE ponies!

I suck at Twitter. I am OK at Facebook. Pinterest is my bitch. I am also on Bloglovin' and Instagram.

Wednesday, April 2, 2014

How I tried to outsmart grief

When my brother died, my life was put on pause. I didn’t know what to do so I didn’t do anything for a while. I didn’t talk. I didn’t see friends. I didn’t go out. I was just a mute version of myself that look confused and scared. I was confused. I was scared.

Like most people that experience a tragic and unexpected loss, I didn’t believe what was happening was real. I kept waiting for my brother to send me text or show up to a family dinner. But he didn’t. And it started to sink in that I would never see him again. And that scared the shit out of me. Because I knew it was going to break me for the rest of my life. And it did. How could it not?

Being the control freak that I am, I tried to outsmart my grief. To always be two steps ahead of it. To always have a say in how, and when, and where I grieved. Or, more realistically, to make sure that I never grieved, because then it would mean that everything was real. So I tried some coping mechanisms that didn’t work so well.

I tried to medicate my grief into submission.
I doubled up on my anti-depressants in an attempt to numb my grief to the point that I couldn’t feel it. All that really did was make me feel like I had constant grief blue balls. Like I was so close to the relief of crying but could never actually shed a tear.

I tried to drink away my pain.
I drank. A lot. Feeling slightly buzzed was better than feeling completely sad so I indulged in too much wine too much of the time. All that did was lead to an even heavier overall cloud of depression—and it’s super fun friend, weight gain.

I tried to go it alone.
Finding myself mostly alone after my brother died, I decided to stay that way. I stopped having people over like we always did. I stopped making plans to go out. I stopped socializing at all. I stopped being me.

I tried to run away from my grief—literally.
I strapped on my running shoes and tied to outrun my feelings. I would run and run and run. I would think about my brother but mostly I would just spend my time thinking about myself. About how I was going to “fix” this situation. But there was no fixing it.

But some things did work.

I sought solace in my daughter’s tiny arms.
On nights when the darkness was too much to bear, I would slip into my daughter’s room under the cover of night and wrap myself around her to protect myself from the pain. Sleeping next to her innocence was often the only way that I could escape the brutality of my brother’s death racing through my mind.

I made new friends.
It is hard to heal the friendships that are broken by a tragedy. Though I am a very forgiving person, I have never really been able to forgive the people who weren’t there for me after my brother’s death. So I made new friends. Friends that didn’t shy away when I talked about how I was feeling. Friends who checked in on me when things were bad. Real friends.

I got help.
I had to kiss a lot of frogs to find the two therapists that would be my princesses, but it was worth it. They have helped me work through my grief and actually experience it. In a way that makes me feel like I am part of the solution, not just the cause of the problem. The two women who have helped counsel me through my grief are the cat’s pajamas.

I let go.
I let myself be OK with being weak at times. I made myself feel that it was good to express my feelings. I gave myself a pass on feeling obligated to keep up friendships that no longer felt positive to me. I stopped feeling like a loser for still feeling under my brothers death and not over it. I let myself be sad. I let myself be angry. I let me be the new me.

Though I may be a broken version of my former self, it is a self that I have built up from the ashes and I am damn proud of it.

If you share this post, I will buy you a pony. I suck at Twitter. I am OK at Facebook. Pinterest is my bitch. I am also on Bloglovin' and Instagram.