Sunday, January 31, 2010

Where's My Check?

It is said that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. I say that imitation should be my greatest source of income.

Since the inception of this blog the world has come to know just how awesome Weasels are. World of Weasels has broken through the dirt ceiling of the burrow into the light of mainstream acceptance. I have worked very hard to break the long held stereotypes of rodents being vermin. World of Weasels has introduced you to the Weasel as a smart a**, hair graying agent cuddly, loving and fantastically funny, family friendly creature.

Through this blog, it's growing audience has come to laugh at me & my attempts to quell rebellion love and enjoy Weasels and all of their antics. You have also been introduced to our rodent cousins and that I am crazy, or stupid, enough to let the gang have multiple glorified rats for pets what wonderful pets they truly make and the compassion that Weasels have for less fortunate burrowing creatures.

The Disney Channel has obviously found and loved World of Weasels. On January 18, 2010, Disney XD launched a new, family friendly, sitcom titled I'm In The Band. According to Chipandco.com:

I'm in the band' is a music-filled, live-action comedy series for kids and families about a teenager who realizes his wildest dream when he joins his favorite "vintage" rock band, Iron Weasel, and sets out to help the band he idolizes make an epic comeback.

They even give themselves nicknames, such as Smartest Weasel.

Although I am not thrilled with the moniker of 'vintage', I can admit to no longer being a spring chicken. The parallels between this 'new' show and World of Weasels are undeniable & we have been Weasels since circa 1997. We have our own Rock Band, Weasel identities, slapstick style comedy, smart aleck wit and sarcasm that runs rampant. Albeit ours is much less predictable smarter and funnier than anything their writers could ever come up with. I live in a nut house. Our life writes itself.

We are live action and have fans whose life dream is to become a Weasel member.

Disney has 'borrowed' from my intellectual property content, if not outright stolen content directly.

I feel a solidarity and type of kinship with iCarly (airs on Nick). She has a live internet show with her best friend Sam. I have a live internet show with my BFF Melisa and in Season 2 of iCarly (episodes 17& 18) is a 2 part episode of how the Dingo Channel - a huge corporation that closely resembles Disney - steals content from Carly of Sam, with very minor changes, that air on the Dingo Channel.

Hmmm, sound familiar?

Not that I am not completely flattered & whole heartedly expect to be rocketed to Rock Star status, but I am also expecting a big fat check with lots of, but not exclusively, zeros that has not come yet. So Disney, all I want to know is where's my check?

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Friday, January 29, 2010

Dad Would Be Jealous

Growing up we always had dogs. Dad was a lover of good dogs and by good he meant large, personality filled and well behaved. He was a big fan of the run of the mill, grungy mutt. A punt-able pure breed was nothing more than a glorified cat in his mind and Dad was not a fan of cats, much like Mom wasn't much a fan of pets of any species, with the exception of rock.

The dogs were always Dads responsibility and companions. He enjoyed their companionship and personalities, trained them well and loved them very much, but was never a doggy-daddy. He always looked on them as a dog. A loving pet that had a place in the family, but not that of human.

There was the occasional dog of a friend or neighbor, that he would have admiration and affection for, as long as they were big, well behaved and had strong personality (see above).

I have always had a natural affection for dogs and I inherited Dads penchant for enjoying big dogs. As a matter of fact, my dog affections are almost exclusively reserved for medium to large breed dogs. The one exception being a sweet little rag-mop, belonging to this lady, who had enough personality to win me over and help start a beautiful friendship.

I actually seem to have inherited many of my Dads traits, from my love and defense of cheap beer to my early morning rising and enjoyment of peace, quiet and coffee at obscene hours of the morning. As I sit in the quiet, alone with my thoughts, my trusty laptop and my dog, my mind wanders back to thoughts of my Dad. I think of how much I miss him and how much I truly enjoyed him. I think of how his relationship with his grandchildren would have been and I think about how I believe that Matilda The Hun would receive his stamp of approval.
Matilda is big and strong, relatively well behaved, loyal and loving and has a personality all of her own. She is clumsy, clunky and awkward. She is playful at times, but often resembles a bump on a log. She's incredibly smart, but has earned the nickname 'dummy', Ultra friendly to every man, beast or child as balanced with becoming protective of her family.

Not only do I think that Dad would approve and enjoy her, I think he would even be a little bit jealous.

Happy Fatherhood Friday! I encourage you to visit Dad-Blogs and click the FF links to get some great reading material on everything Fatherhood.
Fatherhood Friday at Dad Blogs

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Wednesday, January 27, 2010

A Massengill Moment

Remember that old commercial? A beautiful scene on the front porch swing of a country farmhouse, "Mom, do you ever get that not so fresh feeling?". It was a cheesy and unrealistic take on mothers and daughters having intimate discussions.

I was recently sent, for review, a copy of The Body Scoop For Girls by a CBS News contributor and M.D., Ob-Gyn, Jennifer Ashton, a specialist whose NY practice is centered on the treatment of girls from age 13 through their early twenties.

Dr. Ashton has put together what she calls 'a straight talk guide to a healthy beautiful you', covering every topic from puberty and health to abusive relationships and everything in between.

Having now finished reading it, I can only say that I have less than positive feelings about it and I certainly won't be handing it to any of my daughters to read, without at least removing a few pages first. Nor would I recommend it for my reader's daughters without the same creative editing.

Don't get me wrong. There is much useful information to be had in this reference guide. There is much information that is important and should be shared with adolescents and teens, but there is also much information that I, as a mother with 16 years experience, feel is left out, inaccurate or plain and simple misleading.

There are good tips on personal grooming and changes to be expected during adolescence and puberty. There is great information about taking care of yourself for the long term, but there is also much information that I feel is not appropriate or incomplete.

Dr. Ashton speaks of her private practice and the need to treat a patient with respect and knowledge of complete information, for teens are smart, savvy and more worldly than ever before. I couldn't agree more, but feel that she leaves out important details. I also feel that she takes it a little far at times. Although a proponent of girls waiting until they are of legal adulthood to engage in sex, Dr. Ashton states that in her practice that includes younger girls also, "...I'll expect you to use your own best judgment and I'll treat you accordingly, with respect for the choices you make"(page 6).

It's one thing to say, 'I'll treat you medically appropriate and not with any less personal respect, for I can not control your actions or decisions, but I can help keep you healthy.', but it is a ludicrous statement to 'respect the choice' of a 15 or 13 year old girl to engage in sex. Let alone to continue a few pages later with, don't worry, I'll never tell your parents. Would the decision to skip school be respected? What about a decision to smoke, drink or use recreational drugs, would they be respected choices? Are those behaviors any less dangerous to engage in or is it a matter of 'just make sure you use a clean needle'?

On the topic of Doctor patient confidentiality, Dr. Ashton touts on page 12:

"By Law, I am not allowed to tell your parents if you are sexually active or not. They can pound on my door and beg and plead, stalk me with phone calls or spam me online and I'm still not going to tell them whether or not you are having sex."


She then goes onto list two scenarios when she would have to break confidentiality: 1, Safety of the patient or someone else and 2, certain STDs that are reported by the labs to the State.

I say give the girls the full scope of information. If you are covered by your parents insurance and are a minor, your parents have legal rights to a copy of your medical record. Everything health concern related that you tell your doctor gets written in your file, be it sexual activity or recreational drug use. Also, if your insurance company is being asked to pay, they too get a copy of all treatments/tests/diagnosis and rationalizations of why they should be covered under the policy. The policy holder (one of your parents) also gets a statement in the mail of all treatments/tests and what percentage will covered by insurance, courtesy of the insurance company. You will not be given a pap-smear unless sexually active. Forget privacy if you are under 18 or even older if you are insured under your parents. This is an important tidbit.

Dr. Ashton also is in full support of the 'Wait until your 18 club" before you become sexually active. She gives many reasons, both health and emotional, why she encourages her patients to wait. I applaud this. Dr. Ashton continues to point out that the lower your lifetime number of sexual partners, the better is her mantra. However, there is no mention that waiting until you are married is even a concept, achievable or something to shoot for.

Yes, I am wholeheartedly aware that most people will not wait that long. Yes, I am aware that that is a rare standard to achieve. Yet, under the belief that teens and tweens deserve full and competent information with which to make life changing decisions, I let my children know their personal value and potential. I let them know that their intellect, personalities and talents are something that constantly get shared with the world, but their body and virginity are a special gift that they should keep until they find someone that they are wanting to grow old and regress back into diapers with to deem worthy of a gift so sacred.

They will obviously make their own decision on this matter sooner or later, that I will have no control over, but I will always encourage them to do what is truly best for them, even if they are too young to understand what is best for them. That's why they have parents.

When it comes to school work, I never encourage my children with "I think you are capable to achieve a C!". I let them know that the sky is the limit and that they are capable of an A+. Sex as a reward for your 18th birthday is a D-, in my book, it's settling.

Granted, Dr. Ashton admits that age 18 is an arbitrary number that seems achievable and realistic to her and her patients (page 149). I let my children know that this is something that only they have control over and it is within their ability to shoot for the best. They deserve it.

Dr. Ashton speaks of Abstinence Only sex-ed as out dated and ineffective. Parents who teach abstinence only are obviously living under a rock and uncomfortable speaking about anything puberty or sex related is the connotation that you feel as reading the book.

I for one am a parent that teaches abstinence only. I also am open and honest about everything that they need to know about themselves, their hormones, body changes, feelings and what to expect in the future. I openly, yet privately, make my children individually aware at an appropriate age of the common forms of birth control and how they work and why I believe they are a bad idea to ever put into use, but I am not about to give a demonstration on how to adorn a condom (as is suggested on page 162). If you can't figure that out by reading the back of the box, you have no business having need of one and probably should have a safety cork on the end of your eating utensils too.

Emergency Contraception is noted in the book also. "Plan B and similar medications prevent conception from taking place. It does not cause abortions.", is made as an absolute statement, but if Dr. Ashton believes her teenage patients to be intelligent and worthy of making their own decisions based on all the information, why is not mentioned why there is such controversy surrounding this drug? The manufacturer makes the claim that it prevents conception and may be used up to 72 hours after intercourse. Where the controversy comes to play is: Most conceptions do not take place immediately after intercourse, but many do prior to 72 hours after. Plan B will not abort and existing pregnancy, but pregnancy is now defined as once implantation into the uterus occurs. A fertilized egg being destroyed before it has implanted in the uterine wall is the factor that have many referring to to Plan B as an abortive medication. Why only share one 1/2 of the debate?

The icing on the cake comes on page 163:

"Your parents may not be as dumb as you think. Try asking them how old they were when they started having sex. Or if they regretted it. Or if they have any funny or memorable stories or words of wisdom for you. You may be surprised at what you learn-and your parents might actually believe that you want to talk openly about sex."


I actually had to re-read that little segment, after rubbing my eyes and cleaning my glasses, just to make sure I had read it correctly. I had.
Seriously?

I don't discuss such personal aspects of my life with anyone other than my spouse. It's no one else's business. Not a girlfriend, nor a sister and certainly not my child. Any teen that I am familiar with would want to wash their brain thoroughly with bleach in an attempt to cleanse any such thoughts of their parents out of their heads. I am their parent, not their peer.

I asked Boy Weasel (13) to read that blurb and give me his thoughts. His face said it all. Once he swallowed the vomit down, he said "What do they mean, 'your parents aren't as dumb as you think?' ". After a good laugh, I asked him, "Okay, now seriously, what are your thoughts?", and he gave me an honest, "That's not even funny". I informed him that it wasn't supposed to be funny and he replied "You mean that wasn't a joke? That's just not right."

I had Eldest Weasel read the same excerpt. "Eewww', was her reaction to the thought.

I ran it past some other parents of various age children, asking for one word gut reactions; uncomfortable, outrageous, eewww, nuts and silence were the consensus of reactions. I am not alone.

This book is obviously written from the standpoint of a doctor and not that of a parent. I can give credit for that. Ninety percent of this book is filled with valuable information that is important for for teenage girls to have and mostly what I have already covered with my daughters (and son) regarding all sorts of growing pains, piercings and maintaining health for the rest of your life. The other 10 % of information is not right for my family. Every family is different and every parent has to make the decisions that are right for theirs. This book, however, doesn't get the WeaselMomma seal of approval.

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Monday, January 25, 2010

The Five Seasons

Most people usually break the year up into four seasons, namely Spring, Winter, Summer and Fall (or Autumn, if you like). Some in the great white north will joke about there only being 2 seasons; Winter and Construction.

I however contend that in this part of the country, we experience five, count 'em, five seasons. Consisting of Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter and Mean. What? You have never heard of Mean? Oh, you just never thought of it as a season. Well it is.

Mean is a season within a season. Mean begins in late January, reaches it height of strength by late February and continues while mixing with heavy amounts of frustration through March and usually into April until there is any sign of old man winter actually leaving town and giving way to a little bit of sunlight and warmth that will allow us to be able to leave our homes without consternation.

Mean is caused by months of freezing temperatures, bone chilling wind and constant snow shoveling in those conditions. Factor in cabin fever and being kept in close quarters with others for months on end, with daylight not rearing it's head until after 7am and leaving yet again by 4:30 pm.

*notice I say daylight and not sunlight. There is very limited amounts of sunlight in the winter here. The cloud cover keeps everything a very consistent gray.*

When all these conditions come together they create a season of Mean. This is the season where there is no hope of being given a warning when pulled over for a moving violation, when the bagger at the grocery store is going to pack a 5lb bag of sugar on top of your loaf of bread and make your eggs only worthy of scrambling. During mean, teachers will not be generous with extra credit or grading curves and you should certainly avoid the DMV at all costs.

There is only way out of the season of mean and that is through warmth and sunshine. This is the perfect time to take a vacation, if only pesky things like work, school and money weren't standing in your way.

All of you living below the Mason/Dixon may laugh at or get annoyed by 'snow birds' invading your towns during these months, but keep in mind that they are actually just refugees fleeing the ravages of Mean. They are the lucky ones that have found a way out of the tumultuous conditions that befall the north each and every year and don't forget the rest of us who are unable to escape from the turmoil and misery that is Mean.

If you would like to help with relief services to alleviate the suffering of seven many you can donate to me via the "Get Me The Heck Outta Here Fund" @ weaselmomma@yahoo.com

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Saturday, January 23, 2010

Girls Just Wanna Give Blood

Friday morning on Suburban Wow, Melisa and I had special guest, Stephanie Elliot of ManicMommy.com joined us to promote her 3rd Annual virtual blood drive. Bloggers and blog readers are encouraged to to join in this online giveaway for a good cause by donating a pint of blood through your local collection facility (Red Cross, Heartland or anywhere). It's fast, easy, virtually painless and Melisa and I even made it fun.

If you couldn't tell or if you are new to World of Weasels, Melisa and I tend to have fun wherever we go and donating blood was no different. Upon entering Stephanie was all ready to take the pics while Melisa and I started the minuscule amount of paperwork to ensure that the people who would be receiving our donations wouldn't be endangered in any way, like say being infused with hepatitis, although having Coors Light infused platelets may be something they would enjoy.

We bantered and laughed all through the questionnaire and it was obvious to anyone in the facility that we were very familiar, fond and comfortable with each other. So much so that we were mistaken for a couple. Probably because they notice the way that Melisa looks upon me so lovingly. This was a first for me, being confused for a lesbian and did not give me any extra confidence in my new haircut, that I had just received the day before. C'est la vie, it gave us a really good laugh.

After our pin prick iron tests that were passed with flying colors, mine being a really strong 15 and Stephanie announcing that was a "Man Iron number" (does anyone else happen to notice a trend here?) it was donation time! Back in the comfy chairs Melisa and I were quickly prepped and ready to save lives like superheroes.

To add to the fun of the morning, I suggested that we race to see who could donate the fastest. Melisa agreed, mostly for the sake of pacifying me, but soon her natural competitive nature of "go big or go home" came shining through. There was trash talk as we tried to monitor the progress of ourselves and each other. We were in hysterics. Never has doing a good deed been so much fun. The attendants were laughing at us and having fun as well as other donors watching the insanity ensue around them.

I'm pretty sure they double tested our blood for substance abuse.

In the end, both Melisa and I donated in some pretty fast time. 4:59 for Melisa, and 4:53 for me. To top it all off we treated to drinks and snacks when we were finished. All the sugar you could possibly want was yours for the eating, while we sat with Stephanie and had a little girl time.

Five minutes of my life was all it took to offer life to 3 other people. One poke, no bruise and a chance to win some fabulous prizes.

I challenge you, my dear cherished readers to join in the fun and save a few lives in the process. I will give shoutouts and link love to all those who donate and send their pics to ManicMommy.com on Suburban Wow
Just have your picture taken while donating and email the photo to ManicMommy.com., but I will buy you a beer if you manage to beat (and document) my time of 4:53 when I see you in person.

Not only have you saved 3 lives, yes -each pint can save 3 lives, but you will be automatically entered to win fantastic giveaways donated by sponsors such as Airline tickets, gift cards and gift baskets. The photos are posted on Sundays by Stephanie, complete with link love. It's A win, all the way around.

*You can read Melisa's version of events, here.

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Thursday, January 21, 2010

Reunion

*Suburban Wow will be livestreaming this morning at 10am est/9cst/7pacific. Click this cheater link and join Melisa with 1 S and I for an hour full of fun, chat and laughs*

About seventeen years ago, my Grandfather died. It was just one month before my wedding and it was the last time I saw my cousins from that side of the family.

Growing up, we lived many states away from each other, but more summers than not we saw each other during their yearly treks back to visit my grandparents. I always looked forward to this time, because they made going to my grandparents house more fun.

We were close in age and interests and always got along very well. Sometimes we would get to have sleepovers and stay up late giggling and talking, usually until we wound up getting in trouble.

Ed Grimley, of SNL fame, was all the rage and we would make everyone around us nuts with our imitations, but were ourselves having a blast.

At some point in time, for reasons that our generation was never privy to, there was a falling out amongst our parents and all communication came to a screeching halt. The funeral was last time that we were together.

Now all these years later, I am living in the area where they lived while growing up. It's a small world, I tell ya. Through the magic that is Face Book in these here internetz, we found each other again. Along with the realization that we live pretty stinking close to each other.

Coming to the conclusion that whatever happened between our parents was indeed between them and didn't involve us, we should not let it prevent us from enjoying each others company and having a relationship that we have been missing out on for far too many years.

This past Monday, we did just that. The Weasels and I met up with two of my cousins and their beautiful children for lunch. I can't tell you how nice it was to see them again or how good it felt to fall immediately back into our friendship like we had never missed a beat.

We laughed, talked and giggled, only without getting in trouble this time, for we were now the grownups. All of the kids played together just like we used to do when we were kids. In short, it was really fantastic.

So on this FatherHood Friday, I leave you with this: Don't let the sins of the father, so to speak, fall upon the son. It's not just for you to ever have to live in the shadow of your parents prejudice or faults and more importantly, don't keep your children living under the shadow of yours.
Fatherhood Friday at Dad Blogs

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Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Did You Ever......

Did you ever have a rushed, busy and stress filled 9 months day? The kind of day that nothing really went wrong, but nothing really went right either? You know the kind of day that felt as if it lasted forever, but yet still didn't have enough hours in it to accomplish all that you needed?

And at the end of that day you drag yourself up the stairs to the comfort of your bed, even though you still need to go to the store to pick up some necessities before the morning dawns and your husband isn't even home from work yet.

Soon you are aroused from a semi sleeping state to find your husband home and kissing you goodnight by telling you that he already went to the store for you on his way home and just when you thought that you couldn't love him any more than you already do he starts to give you a soft relaxing and unsolicited massage that goes on forever and is so gentle that you practically melt.

You sleep like a baby and wake in the morning feeling thoroughly refreshed. That is until you attempt to wake up the Weasels for school and start making lunches only to discover that Smallest Weasel had wet her bed and needs a bath and fresh linens and that Mr. Weasel has to leave early for work and that Eldest doesn't feel well and that Middle Weasel won't get out of bed and that Monkey Weasel is losing it because she can't find find her cuddle blanket (that you find right next to her bed) and both Boy & Middle Weasel slacked on their chore to clean up the kitchen post dinner last night and you don't have clean thermoses to pack school lunches with.

You eventually get everyone off for their day and stop at the store for a few things that you had forgotten to put on the list. You move quickly into the self checkout and attempt to pay with your debit card only to have the system take forever before announcing loudly 'Card Declined' and in between heart palpitations you swipe the card again trying to comfort yourself with thoughts of 'maybe I just keyed in the pin wrong' only to have that digital voice announce to everyone within a 50 ft radius 'Card Declined' and you don't know why, but you try it a 3rd time with the same result only you swear that the volume of that *&$%@ inside the terminal gets louder each time.

Finally you are let off the hook by a clerk that informs you "Maam, our debit system is down" and you breath a sigh of relief as you walk to the ATM, punch in your digits and hold your breath in prayer until you hear the relieving swoosh, swoosh, swoosh of cash being dispensed. You finish your purchase and race to your car, without a coat, on this chilly morning.

Upon returning home you realize that you forgot to kennel the dog before leaving the house and now you have to clean up her artistic showing of displeasure that you left her at home. Now and only now you see the aftermath of 5 Weasels having had breakfast and hot lunches made, along with the holdover mess from last nights dinner.

At this point all you want is your Massage Boy back.

Yeah, me neither.

On a semi-related note Gunfighter of A Modern Warriors Life has a post today all about what Men and Women really want. It's good and comprehensive post, but he forgot to list Massage Boy.

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Monday, January 18, 2010

What Happens In The Oval

According to The voices In my head and rampant imagination a trusted source, this conversation was had in the oval office last week:

POTUS ~ I want to send the Health and Human Services Secretary to Haiti to ensure that all the aid and relief we are sending in the aftermath of this earthquake is being dispersed quickly and efficiently.

Presidential Advisers ~ Sir, we advise against sending the HHS Secretary at this time. Due to conditions on the ground, we would not be able to guarantee the personal safety of the Secretary.

POTUS ~ In that case, let's send Secretary Clinton.

I will exhaustively try to get confirmation on the validity of this story.

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Friday, January 15, 2010

My Home Is My Work Place

It's FatherHood Friday at Dad Blogs, so click over there (when you are done here) to read some thoughts on everything parenthood related. Today's theme: Moms.
Fatherhood Friday at Dad Blogs
We have all heard yammering over the years about Stay At Home Mom and all that hats they wear, salary equivalents yada, yada, yada. Basically, if the company you work for isn't making money, you're not getting paid. In the case of the SAHM, you aren't getting laid-off either.

For the most part, I see myself as a manager......of a funny farm. It is my job to make sure everyone is where they need to be when and with whatever materials they need. It is my job to supervise the tasks my individual charges are working on and making sure they are meeting their deadlines. I need to make sure that the workplace runs smoothly and is not a hostile environment for anyone except me. I make sure my reports have all the materials they need, from art supplies to food and clean clothing, to be successful in all of their endeavors.

Anyone who works in office can make sense of this analogy and think to themselves "Yup, that's what so many of us deal with everyday".

The difference is, my immediate charges are Weasels. Wild Monkeys are easier to train. They come to me with a blank resume and expect a top salary from day 1, plus benefits -health and fringe alike.

Luckily, I have Mr. Weasel as my right hand man and I can delegate authority. "You'll have to ask Dad" has become a favorite catch all. He is also my main man when it comes to "I need you to deal with 'X', because my eye is twitching".

They are a human resources nightmare. They do not adhere to any standard of professional decorum, no matter how lax the work environment. There is constant harassment of others in the workspace. Unprofessional behavior such as throwing oneself on the floor and flailing limbs is not unheard of sometimes it's even me. Project slacking is an epidemic when it comes to chores. Sometimes the hammer needs to come down.

The problem is that it is a velvet hammer. I can take away fringe benefits, but beyond that am fairly impotent in my arsenal of repercussions for non-compliant and/or under performing charges. I can't fire them and they know that. It gives them an upper hand. I can't decrease their compensation packages, only make their least favorite dinner. It's all similar to belonging to the most powerful union ever known to man, with tenure.

There is paperwork to rival any fortune 500 company - the bane of my existence and most of it gets dropped on the kitchen counter my desk at the last minute.

Much like a pharmaceutical or oil exploration company, there are countless years of work and financing before we ever will see a return on our investments. By the time that comes to it fullness, they will be gone from my charge and ready to take on charges of their own. This will also most likely cost me major financial investment.

All in all, this company will never put itself in the black financially. I will never garnish a comfortable salary from it, but I will have the hugs, kisses, love and hopefully someday the appreciation of all the efforts I put in to make it solvent and marketable.

Until then, I will enjoy the fringe benefits they stipend me with. Although, a golden Parachute in my golden years would be nice.

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Thursday, January 14, 2010

Come out, Come out, Where Ever You Are

It's National Delurking day! A celebration of all of the lovely lurkers who hide in the shadows and read, but never make themselves known.

Today is your day to pop your head out into the sunlight and say hi in the form of a comment. An opportunity for you to break your silence and be heard!

Come out of the woodwork and join the join the party. I promise that I don't bite. I try to entertain you the rest of the year, today is your day to entertain me and let me know you are here with a big loud YOP!

You need not have an account to leave a comment. Just click comments and then mark the name box. You can leave a message as Bob or Marge or whoever you would like to be. Just give me a shout to say you are here.

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Inside My head

It's Thursday and here are just random thoughts that are running in a loop through my head.

  1. It's almost Friday. Yeah for Friday! There is no homework on Friday. It's my happy day.
  2. Melisa is coming home from her 12 days in Tennessee today, just in time to save me from shaking in the fetal position in the corner of a closet. I really missed her even though we talked regularly.
  3. I am showered, dressed, wearing make-up and have presentable hair. There is no chance that Greta Van Susteren will want to chat today.
  4. I really need to bust a move on some household chores today. The fairies and elves aren't going to show.
  5. I am ready for spring. Too bad I don't have an in with Mother Nature.
  6. Hot Wings are always hotter the next day.
  7. I really want to go to Blissdom, but there is a snowballs chance in hell of it happening. Maybe Greta wants me to cover it for On The Record.
  8. White Bullie of The Dad Side is cracking me up with his product review of Whack-A-Weasel -go check it.
Have a great day folks.

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Wednesday, January 13, 2010

I Give Up!

Matilda The Hun here, although I feel awfully undeserving of the title at the moment.

See last week, something happened that I thought would make for a great time. Lady, the German Short hair, came to visit for an extended vacation. I had plans for playing and whooping it up for a long term play date. I was so excited to have another dog in the house that I lost bladder function all over the tile in the foyer.

I love friends. I love everybody and a 24/7 playmate sounded like the best present that I have ever received in my short 6 months of life. However, it's been a 'be careful what you wish for' moment.

Lady doesn't want to play. EVER. Every time I try, Lady growls and nips.

I share my food with her, even though she has her own and she acts as if it all belongs to her. Seriously, that's my food. Once again, when I try to eat, she cops and attitude about it.

I don't get pissed when she naps and sheds all over my kennel.

I don't get upset that she gets to sleep upstairs, while I get to sleep in the hair filled kennel. Lady is a house guest and I should be a good hostess.

I let her do her business in the cleanest drift of snow, but enough is enough.

House guests are like fish, after 3 days they start to stink.

Some Hun I am.

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Sunday, January 10, 2010

Sunday Mish-Mash

It's Sunday morning and I have much to accomplish today, so I am leaving you some worthwhile tidbits to distract you with my left hand, so you don't see what my hand is doing.

First off, on Friday afternoon I skyped for the 2nd time with my BFF Greta Van Susteren of The Fox News Channel, right after I had been chatting with Dear Mr. Man, one of my real BFF's. I don't have video of my chat with Mr. Man, but you can see and comment positively in a push to get me a regular spot with Greta the skype with Greta on her blog Greta Wire by clicking *this link* The last time I skyped with Greta, I had also just finished chatting with Dear Mr. Man. Coincidence????

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Greta also must have laughed hysterically posted my Whack-A-Weasel video on her blog *right here*. How cool is that.

In hopes of greater exposure and the spirit of shameless self promotion I sent along this oldie but a goodie to her people this morning.




I am crossing my fingers that this gets the thumbs up and is posted on Greta Wire also. After all, I really want to have 'people' too someday.

While I am sharing completely awesome videos with you, I want you to go visit Big Bad Daddy Rant. This morning for the first time in what feels like ages he posted an incredible video of his youngest daughter (she's 3, maybe? I'm not sure) snowboarding in their back yard on a run that BBD has built for his girls. This video is mesmerizing and you must go see for yourself.

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Friday, January 8, 2010

Am I really a Minority?

School is back in session this week after the 2 1/2 week Christmas break. Monday morning twitter was all a twitter with celebratory parents who couldn't wait for this day to arrive.

Throughout the week I read many blog posts recapping the events of the extended time off and mostly decrying how awful it was to be spending so much time with the children home and how the kids were making these parents crazy. Whether families had traveled over their vacations or had stayed home, the general sentiment was "Thank God the kids are back in school and I can have my house back".

I get this. I really do. Peace and quiet are nice environments to get work done in. Some of the kids favorite shows make your ears bleed when you hear the theme song. The constant activity level that surrounds you when the kids are around for extended periods can be a bit much and the trail of destruction that they leave in their wake gets old.

However, my feelings on this past Monday were the complete opposite. I was sad that the Weasels were heading back to school. We didn't go anywhere special over the break. We didn't have any magnificent plans. We just celebrated the time off simply at home.

In the days before Christmas, I was still running around trying to get my last minute to-dos finished. Life was busy as usual and a bit on the hectic side, but starting on Christmas Eve at dinner time all that changed. The hustle and bustle were finished and it was just time to sit back and enjoy. Christmas itself and the days following were spent in relaxation and family time. A luxury we usually don't have on school days. There was no rush to get ready and get everyone out of the house on time. There were no sporting events on the schedule. The stress of homework, deadlines and strict bedtimes were gone.

We could simply enjoy each other. We played Rock Band and SpongeBob's Battle For Bikini Bottom for hours on end. We played cards and Operation. There were playdates and dinners that we made and eaten together. Sure there were chores to be done, but that only accounted for one hour a day if we all worked simultaneously. We watched movies and television, spent time with friends and just savored the time off.

Don't get me wrong, it wasn't all rainbows and puppies - well actually, there was a puppy involved. There were moments of arguing over who's turn it was to play what game or who cheated someone else, but overall it is so much better when the Weasels are home. I really enjoy when I am actually able to enjoy them as opposed to just playing Drill Sergeant on busy school days with tight schedules.

I like to think that I am not really in the minority.

Now Head on over to Dad-Blogs to read many great postings on everything FatherHood Friday related.
Fatherhood Friday at Dad Blogs

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Thursday, January 7, 2010

The Crazy Bunch

Here's the story
of a Mastiff puppy
That was living with seven weasels of her own.

They already had 3 cats and 2 more rodents
living in their home.

Here's the story
of a German Short Hair
Who is long in years and doesn't like to share.

She is staying with the Weasels for a while
as her owner gets good nursing care.

The first time that Lady met Matilda
she knew that she must protect her food
for that 68 lb Mastiff puppy
made Lady mighty rude.

There was growling and a little bit of nipping.
We knew they were headed for a fight
So Matilda got locked up in the kennel
and Lady sent up to bed for the night.

The Crazy Bunch,
The Crazy Bunch,
Just one reason we are called the Crazy Bunch.

We have a house guest folks. Our dear friend Patsy is back in the hospital and Lady always has a place to stay with us. Lady is a wonderful dog who is long in the tooth and well behaved. Unfortunately, she is not fond of the dog that became part of the Weasel family since the last time she vacationed here.

Matilda is 68 lbs, as of last week, and only 6 months old. She is all love, all the time. With people, with other dogs, with her own shadow, all she wants is play time and petting.

Lady has no time for that puppy tom foolery and is mostly concerned about her next meal. She is set in her ways and used to being pampered in quiet surroundings. She has told Matilda, more than once, in no uncertain terms to back off. Matilda is like the toddler who keeps pulling on your shirt and won't take a hint, no matter how overt.

Matilda is completely submissive to Lady, which is kind of funny being that Matilda has 20 lbs of muscle and extreme height over the old girl, but is relentless on pushing Lady to be her best friend. Lady just wants a restraining order issued.

It will take a few days for them to work things out, in the mean time I get to wear a referee hat.

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Tuesday, January 5, 2010

Sunday, January 3, 2010

Cheapwads Chafe My...........

I have had it up to my chapped hands with green bathrooms. Ever since Al Gore nazified our toilets back in the 90's, before he discovered the internet and invented global warming, the corporate fashion of having green bathrooms has become so en vogue that it has completely run amok.

Now, I am all for waste not, want not, but what we have here is corporations waving the flag of environmental friendliness as a guise to actually just be cheapwads.

Case in point, the bathroom facilities at your local members only warehouse shopping mart.

Here you will find things so green, that they need not paint the walls to give you a sense of environmental tranquility, that is, until you try to use them.

First of all, the heat is kept at an energy saving 66 degrees. This saves them money right away in a two-fold fashion, A. They have lower heating costs and 2. Half the time I turn around and decide to just hold it rather than risk frost bite and icicle formations where I would rather not have them, thus saving on all water and paper usage while visiting.

Now if you are brave enough or desperate enough to use the facilities, you will enter the stall to find a funky looking commode complete with flushing instructions. Lift the handle upward to dispose of liquid waste or push downward to dispose of solid waste. What if you had hot wings for lunch or Mexican was last night's dinner? Do you have to hit a call button to get a judge's decision?

Either way, you soon reach for bathroom tissue and find yourself stuck with recycled John Wayne style toilet paper. You know, it's rough, it's tough and it takes no...yada, yada, yada. That stuff is so thin that you need to use half a roll and still wish you you wearing disposable gloves while using it.

* Side Note: Toilet paper should never be recycled.*

Now if you have figured out in which direction you should flush, you get to move onto hand washing supply rationing. The automatic faucets that I swear are operated by someone behind the mirror laughing their butt off as they watch you try to wash, lather and rinse you hands in a trickle of tepid water that they keep shutting off as you attempt to use it. I know they are there and I hate them.

If you are lucky enough to rinse off the soap enough to be ready for drying and have resisted the urge thus far to go completely postal in a public restroom, you have one of 3 options available. 1. The automatic paper towel dispenser that rations small sheets of recycled toilet paper that rip the flesh from your hands without actually removing any of the moisture and make you wait stupid amounts of time waving in front of them in hopes of 'Please Sir, may I have some more', before giving up and wiping your hands on your jeans, leaving them cold, damp and prone to becoming chapped, b. The automatic blower hand dryer that has been around for ages, takes forever and still shuts off before your hands are dry, leaving you to finish by wiping them on your jeans or spending 20 more minutes in the restroom under the dryer with an angry, cold, chapping mob lining up behind you, or 3. The Super Mega hand drier 5000 that threatens to blow the flesh right off of your bones with a jet engine that pierces your ears with 300 decibels and sends small children running and screaming in fear out of the bathroom and you have to chase behind them with cold, wet chapping hands because they are your children.

None of this is friendly to the user. Washing your hands in cold water is not green, it's cheap. Warm to hot water and soap actually kills germs comfortably for the washee. As opposed to dragging your germ filled hands around the rest of the store but it does bring you back into the store a few days later to fill your antibiotic prescription. The lack of decent hand drying options gets you to buy industrial amounts of hand lotion while you are in the store when your hands begin to crack and bleed and the most effective money saving cheap-o-matic device is making the entire restroom experience so awful that you opt out of using them all together in favor of a bladder infection.

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Saturday, January 2, 2010

Trust Me

I received an email from a trusted friend that said to follow these instructions. I usually delete this type of thing in my spam, but considering the source I played along and was happy I did. Trust me on this one people.

Call the Nestle Crunch Hotline at 800-295-0051. When you are asked if you want to continue in English or Spanish, just wait quietly for about 10 seconds and you will smile. Promise! Keep going, press 4 listen to the options...then press 7.

The automated system is voice sensitive, so keep that in mind. I bet that you forward this onto friends, family and neighbors alike.

Have a great Saturday People!


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