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    Not exactly the Merry Christmas mall employees anticipated

    December 23, 2008

    We have this little problem in our family.  Everyone wants to go everywhere with everyone else.  I moan but I really want to be with all of them too.  Actually, I really want to be with my husband so I tolerate his clones.

    So tonight we all headed out to pick up the combi double stroller we found on Craigslist and then off to the Apple store to rectify the problem that is my fat ass.  I know it’s shocking that Apple can fix the size of your backside, but it’s true.  No, actually they can fix the problems caused by your ass such as standing directly on your I-Phone as you get out of the truck.  Not good, People.  And because it already had 17 hairline fractures on the glass screen and I’m pretty much as irresponsible as they come, I offered to take my husband’s I-Phone that looks like it was purchased yesterday (even though today is its one year old birthday) and get him a new 3G I-Phone.  He says that life is sometimes unfair in a good way in your direction but it so rarely is unfair in his good direction.  It was the least I could do.

    We were getting out of the truck and I finally just asked who smelled like ass.  In a house full of men, they pretty much all do but every once in a while someone carries his ass smell around in his diaper and I try not to propagate that smell at all cost.  Why should strangers be traumatized?

    K:  I think The Baby smells.  Do you want to change him?
    D:  Eh.  I’ll change him in the mall.

    Fast forward to the Apple store, then the AT&T store and it was as if time stopped.  No one took The Baby to change him.  I think he still stank but no one was listening to me.  Derek then started to complain that Nate’s diaper had leaked and asked if I could go buy him pants.   I looked down and both Derek and The Baby were soaked.  It was weird.  He headed off to Cheesecake Factory where we were on the eternal list and I headed out to find sweat pants that did not cost 19.99.  WTH?  I’m sure people buy $20 sweat pants for their 2 year old but I am not one of those people.  I found a pair of pajamas for $8.99 and The Boy and I headed out to find the other two.  My new-used phone rang.

    D:  Nate’s not wearing a diaper.
    K:  WHAT????
    D:  Nate has no diaper on.  That’s why the leak was so bad.
    K:  What do you mean?
    D:  Did you forget to put a diaper on him?

    This is a valid question to ask a pregnant woman.  Along with, “did you make sure you took ALL the kids before you left the house?” and “did you blow out all the open flames before you left the house?”  Anything is fair game.

    K:  I remember putting a diaper on him.  And he stank when we got out of the truck.  Was there poop in his pants?
    D:  Nothing.

    Maybe I should mention that Nate has been taking off his diapers after he “fills” them.  Somehow his clothes remain on but you’ll find a crap diaper under the dining room table.  It’s happened twice in the last three days.

    K:  Dear.  God.  Where do you think he took it off?  OMGOMGOMGOMGOMG.  Did you leave him alone anywhere?
    D:  Of course not.
    K:  Where is the damn diaper?
    D:  Um, Merry Christmas mall employees?

    Because making minimum wage at a lousy job at the mall two days before Christmas isn’t bad enough, you now get to find a “filled” diaper under a rack somewhere at the end of the night.  Nice. To the people at the mall, I am so very sorry. So. Very. Sorry.

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    Thank God we don’t have any of those fossilized gingerbread cookie ornaments

    January 5, 2008

    K:  Does The Baby have an apple?
    D:  Yeah?
    K:  Um, it’s the size of his head.
    D:  Even better, you won’t believe where he found it.
    K:  Surprise me.
    D:  He found it in the Christmas ornament box. 
    K:  He found an apple in the Christmas ornament box?
    D:  Yep.  I watched him find it.
    K:  Was it an apple from 2006?
    D:  Nope.  It looked fresh.
    K:  He’s eaten most of it.
    D:  Yep.
    K:  Any idea how the apple ended up in the Christmas ornament box?
    D:  Nope.
    K:  Didn’t think so.  Look at him go…

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    I’m hiding in the basement but someone’s bound to find me

    December 27, 2007

    Long time no blog.  It’s really because everything was so mind-numbingly boring over here during the holidays.  I had nothing to write.  No one was sick, everyone was well behaved….  I couldn’t even finish the sentence without laughing.

    I do now remember why we have never purchased a toy for The Boy prior to this Christmas, and why we will NEVER be buying him a toy again.  We bought him a wooden alphabet puzzle, dinosaur magnets for the fridge, a Dora memory game and something else.  He got presents from his cousins and grandparents but what did he play with?  The ONLY two toys his BROTHER got for Christmas.  A wooden stacking toy from Mom and Dad and this from his grandparents.   They were the best Christmas presents he never got.  Ask me how many times I have sung the alphabet song?  Go on, ask me.  Actually I think I stopped counting after about 9 billion.  Maybe I should have given The Boy’s presents to The Baby.
    The Baby, of course, was delirious to celebrate his Christmas by eating scraps of wrapping paper he found around the house.  Or that he found on the wrapping paper roll.  All 25 yards of it.  Merry Christmas to him!

    I got an I-Phone for Christmas from Baby Brewing.  Baby Brewing wanted to get me a cheaper phone, but then Baby Brewing realized that Mommy could do work 24 hours a day if she had an I-Phone.  Someone orders a shirt at 2:30 a.m.?  Mommy can get up, run downstairs and MAKE IT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT.  Mommy was able to do work while waiting for the Christmas Eve mass to start at the National Cathedral. At least Mommy wasn’t one of the people pulling out the cell phones in the MIDDLE OF THE SERVICE to take pictures of the Bishop.  Baby Brewing also got The Husband an I-Phone.  Baby Brewing thought it was a small price to pay (who are we kidding–to charge) since The Husband is Baby Brewing’s number one Employee/Bitch.

    Mommy also got a metal halide light that will hopefully enable her to burn screens INSIDE rather than waiting for the planets to align sun to shine.  So far it’s been a little dicey but Mommy has faith.

    Mommy doesn’t know how she started talking in the third person but it is annoying the hell out of her.  That and The Husband just caught her hiding downstairs.  She asked if he wanted to join her but he mentioned something about feeding the children.  Technicalities.

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    Is my slip showing?

    December 10, 2007

    HA! The last time I wore a slip was in the 7th grade. Princess Di had nothin’ on me. But I feel like I am forgetting something major. Like maybe I forgot to pay the mortgage? The preschool bill? Lord, I hope it wasn’t the preschool bill because if I have to watch both these kids all day you may as well just save time and send protective services over here right now.

    I’m gonna whine. Here it comes. I feel so bad about it too. You know how you read those blogs and it’s the same crappy story every single day. Every. single. day. Well that’s my friggin’ life. When someone I love apologizes about not reading my blog in a long time, I laugh. Same story, different part of the house nearly being burnt to the ground. You ain’t missin’ NOTHING if you miss a month here. Life at Chateau Cookie is just like a soap. The only thing changing over here is who is sleeping in whose bed.

    For instance, The Husband fell asleep with The Boy last night. I put The Baby to bed. The Husband woke up to bring The Baby for me to feed because he was screaming maniacally. In my defense, I was so exhausted that I never heard him. So here we are in bed. The three of us. Until The Boy wakes up and realizes that he is alone. He screams maniacally and then The Husband puts brings him to bed with us. So now we are all in bed together. The Husband, who has clearly established HIS SIDE/HALF of the bed, The Boy, sleeping diagonally, The Baby, who can’t stand to be touched and me, on 3 inches of bed.

    So I get up and put The Baby back in his bed but he isn’t having any part of that. So I take him back out and we get in The Boy’s bed. But now The Baby is up for the day (at 4 am) and so I turn on the light, hand him a book and let him read to himself and basically crawl all over me for an hour. Then I give up and come downstairs to Twitter about my bitterness. I like to think Twitter is absorbing about 90% of my whining. That’s good, right?

    I have to go.  I left The Boy unattended for 3 seconds with a pair of scissors and now there is a gaping hole in the size of my tree that is approximately 2 feet by 2 feet.  Determined to view the glass as half full, there are enough branches from the tree massacre to make three wreaths for the doors and now there is a place to put a wagon (or an economy sized car) under the tree.

    Maybe there is a Pious in my future???  And don’t forget to add your last minute ideas to the contest.  It’s over at noon today.  EST.

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    Got Beer???

    December 2, 2007

    Mommy Needs a Beer

    It feels like a nonstop commercial for Baby Brewing around here, doesn’t it? Well, it is. Because if I don’t make enough money to get a babysitter soon so I can get away from this DAMN KIDS for at least an hour, I will lose my mind. Lose. My. Mind.

    Screen printing? Not easy, people. Probably easy if you have all the equipment, as opposed to me, who is curing emulsion on screens in the sunlight out back. In my heavily wooded yard. Even without leaves, I’m running around like a lunatic, trying to find some direct sunlight. Thank God during the winter we have so many hours of overhead light. Like 7 minutes. I’ll bet no one is curing emulsion in the sunlight in Finland this time of year.

    We have a temporary (?) houseguest. She is a lovely girl who will be helping out at the school starting next week and she was temporarily homeless. Did I mention she was a nice girl? In a, holy crap, now we can’t run Dora on Tivo loop anymore. Nice girl in a, I’m really gonna miss the F-word kinda way.

    This weekend has gone this way…

    The Boy gets paint all over the living room. Origin of paint unknown.

    The Boy cuts another hole in his pants to make peeing easier. Because it is so difficult already.

    The Boy knocks over three screens filled with ink onto the floor. That ink that never dries and sticks to everything.

    The Boy commences jumping from the banister on the landing down to the couch. Relatively uneventful.

    The Boy runs over his brother with his car.

    The Boy rolls his brother over in the tunnel.

    The Boy attempts to ride The Dog through the house.

    The Boy has an “incident” in the bathroom involving pee. If only the wall was the toilet bowl.

    The Boy stands beside me as I print shirts, incessantly asking, “Is that for me? Is that my size? Is that for me?”

    The Boy climbs onto my lap and proceeds to dump half of his bowl of cereal on my lap.

    The Boy drives his truck through paint of unknown origin, leaving tracks throughout the house.

    The Boy steals The Baby’s food.

    The houseguest is a lovely girl in a, too bad I can’t pour myself a White Russian, aka Mommy’s Chocolate Milk, at 2 in the afternoon.

    Oh, dear. The shirts? Short sleeve is $20 and long sleeve is $25. I thought about charging by the hour but even you venture capitalists couldn’t afford it then.

    It’s for the beer crowd. You know who you are.

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    Dear Santa, I can explain!!!

    November 28, 2007

    Dear Santa, I can explain!!!

    OMG, I think this is the funniest shirt I have ever made! I was torn between this picture and the one of him grabbing his crotch because he needed to pee. This one is probably better for commerce, right? And for mommy? WAIT. IT’S NOT JUST FOR MOMMY!!!! IT’S FOR ALL WOMEN!!!!!!!!!!! WOOHOO for KRISTEN for not alienating the NON-MOTHER crowd.

    Dear Santa, Please Define Naughty

    Kid’s shirt, $15, Woman’s shirt, $20. I couldn’t figure out how to do a graduated discount for multiple purchases so just use the code WOOHOO to get 10% off your order of $30 or more.

    Shirts so comfy you will never want to take them off. Trust me, The Boy screamed bloody murder when I took his off after taking the picture.

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