The D-CUPcake

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Groupon rules our lives.  If Groupon comes out with "Making Underwear Out of Crushed Glass and Splintered Toothpicks" class, my sister and I would probably buy it and take the class as soon as possible.  We'd send several e-mails back and forth trying to find a time to fit in the class designed to teach us how to make toothpick underwear into our schedule.  We then would patiently wait until Groupon came out with a class teaching us how to make bras out of bear teeth and then sign up really quickly for that one, too.  (After sending lots of e-mails back and forth.)

So, you can only imagine how we jumped at the Groupon "Cupcakes & Cocktails", a how-to-decorate-cupcakes class by Sugar Bunch Creations.  We were given four cupcakes to decorate. We received a little lesson for the first three and then we were supposed to design our own look for the fourth one, which would be judged by our ten classmates. Apparently, this contest is supposed to mock the one they have in the Food Network show "Cupcake Wars", which I have never seen.  The designer of the winning cupcake during our little class would be eligible for an all-expenses paid trip to Belize and by all-expenses paid trip to Belize I mean a very large pixie stick full of nothing but powdery grape sugar.

One of the cupcakes we were asked to design was suppose to resemble a chrysanthemum.  Here is a real chrysanthemum for you "I don't own a stinkin' greenhouse.  Do I look like a gardener or what?  Does it look like I have a degree in Bob Villa?" types:

The real deal.

Source: Flower Magazine

Because I probably looked like an incompetent freakshow who appeared more interested in getting refills of my Moscato versus decorating my cupcake right, I had a shortage of the marshmallows that we were supposed to be turning into petals.  My instructor had pity on me and told me to add a dollop of icing in the middle to add some beauty to my heinous creation. I don't think she used the word "heinous" but I can't be sure.  Maybe she said "pitiful piece of cupcake crap", but, again, I'm not positive. 

My Pitiful Piece of Cupcake Crap (a.k.a. The Cavity Cupcake).....

looks like it has ugly teeth desperate for a filling for flower petals.

My sister, the very creative one who has done amazing things with invitations, announcements, party decorations, etc., was, of course, a pro at making pretty cupcakes.  Her chrysanthemum actually looked  like one.  It looked so real, I tried to pick it and put it in a vase.  You should have seen how people yelled "IT'S NOT REAL, YOU WORTHLESS HUMAN BEING!", like I wouldn't have figured out it wasn't really a flower once I stuck it in a vase and it didn't grow any bigger after a couple of weeks

 

 

I got a little better at designing cupcakes as the night went on and I created this one during our fondant lesson.  The only reason I added the star was because every one around me was making fancy shapes with their fondant and all I had done was spread a big piece over my cupcake and wrote a note on it.  I succumbed to the pressure.  I couldn't be having the lady across the table from me making a rendition of the Mona Lisa riding Ichabod Crane's horse against the backdrop of Van Gogh's Starry Night all out of fondant while I just scribbled something on a blank white slate.  So, I added the  "Lift Here" star. 

 

 

For my husband.

(This is the part where you wail loudly over that sweet note to my husband
 and blow your nose loudly into a tissue while waving us away.)

At the very end, as I said before, we were supposed to design our own cupcake that would be judged by the rest of the class.  There were ten of us there.  Our design was supposed to center around the question "What do you wish for?"  My sister had a baby theme on hers, Erika had a princess crown on hers, some lady had something we couldn't make out on hers and I had...

This.

 

 We had to design the whole cupcake and decorate in TEN minutes.  Maybe if I had had more time I would have drawn the earth with children of all nationalities holding hands and linked around the whole thing.  Instead, I put two large mounds of icing and covered it with a red top.  You could look at this in many ways- perhaps I made it impulsively in support of breast cancer research, maybe it is a bathing suit top and I'm longing for summer again, maybe I need to make a trip to Victoria Secret's soon or maybe I dream of looking like Dolly Parton.   I'm not really sure what I was thinking. (Remember the Moscato?) 

The point?  I WON!  I finally WON something!  I was the winner!  I felt like a success story.  I went from The Cavity Cupcake to the winning "D-Cupcake" in less than an hour.  Surely they're going to make a Lifetime movie about me, I kept thinking.  Maybe a book deal is in my future at least?  Perhaps an interview with Barbara Walters or a Hollywood star with my name and handprints on it?  Something?  ANYTHING?!

 

(Still waiting to hear from someone.)

What would you have put on your cupcake to answer the question: "What do you wish for"?

***If you live in Houston, you should totally check this place out.  The website for Sugar Bunch Candy Creations, a company that also specializes in candy buffets and "edible party favors", can be found here.  They also have a Facebook page that can be found here.  FYI, I was in NO way compensated for this post.  I'm just sharing it because we loved the time we had at their place!***

Today We Salute YOU, Ms. Generic-Halloween-Store-Worker!

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Sing to the tune of the Real Men of Genius commercials from B-dwesier.  For more of these salutes, click on the "Today We Salute You" tab in the navigation bar.

KELLEY'S BREAK ROOM presents…

REAL WOMEN OF GENIUS

(Overly Dramatic 80's Background Singer Guy: Reeeeeeallllllll Women of Geniuuu-uuuus!!!)

Today we salute YOU, Ms. Generic-Halloween-Store-Worker!

(Ms. Generic-Halloween-Store-Worker!!!)

Your back-up Lily Munster costume.
www.creativecostumes.com

Every year you look forward to September 15th when "Halloween Store" opens in the old strip center near your house (near that Linens 'N Things that went out of business) so you can make some extra money.  Extra money that will help put food on the table, buy enough Almond Joys and Kit Kats to give you a clogged artery in a single sitting, allow you to work your nightly gig as "Scary Mary" at the haunted house outside of town because you are kind of a super freak (super freak!  You're super freak-eh!) and give you the chance to people watch, which you absolutely, positively love.

(Why are all of these weird people buying fish net stockings?!?!?!)

As you rearrange the evil baby display you so lovingly designed just hours before, you see children tearing up the fake microphones on aisle 4, a toddler screaming at the sight of Frankenstein on aisle 15 and another group of teenage girls ruining the Lady Gaga wigs on aisle 8. It is enough to make you want to chase them all with a fake machete, or maybe even a real one, but you know you must smile through it all.

(They-better-not-be-coming-to-my-house-asking-for-no-candy)

As you make your way to the front of the store through a maze of screaming ghouls, gigantic pumpkins, gargantuan tombstones, Michael Myers and lots and lots and lots and lots of fake spider webs, you see a small child standing in line excited to buy his Super Mario costume.  Even though it was his mom that knocked over the pyramid of witches cauldrons just moments before, you happily take his costume to the register and give him a wink.  Second to your discounted Big League Chew and unlimited access to tons of bouncy balls to play with when the store gets slow, kids like him are the reason you love "Halloween Store" the way you do.

(If no one else is dressing up with you,

can I be Luiiii-heeeee-jehhhhh???)

Although Super Mario's mom shot down your idea to dress as a short Italian man in green overalls with a very, very dark and thick moustache, especially since you are a stranger that works in a scary store and moonlights at a haunted house, you don't let that sort of thing let you down.  You have a Lily Munster costume anyway.   Your can-do attitude and ability to put up with all of us at this time of year with our questions about face paint, yellow teeth, fake blood, party plates, different sizes and wigs is why today we salute YOU, Ms. Freestanding-Halloween-Store-Worker!

Ms. Generic-Halloween-Store-Woooorrrr-herrrrrr-kerrrrrrrr!!!!!!!!!!!

(Where DO you work during the rest of the year, anyway?)

The Foot Fight

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I'm taking a break from blogging.  I don't typically do the things that many bloggers do, like Wordless Wednesdays, memes, linkys, etc.  Maybe that is what real bloggers do while I'm over here talking about my sister's impromptu old food White Elephant party or weird insects or something.  Ridiculous.  So, I'm taking a break.




Okay, it was a short one.  It occurred just during the moment it took me to scroll down from that period after the "k" up there and until I typed that "O" in the line above this one.  A true break really wasn't going on anyway as I was holding the down arrow key during the "break" and that was terribly stressful.

I can't take a break from blogging yet, because where would I write about this rant I witnessed from Left Foot just the other day?  People magazine does not want rants about feet talking to each other.  I asked and they yelled at me.  Also uninterested are those free classified newspapers no one reads that sit and beg to be picked up as you exit the grocery stores.  They didn't even want any part of this rant.   Ann's Rants said she has enough rants on her own blog and suggested I might call an adoption agency or the local rant shelter.  THAT is why it is on this blog today.  This rant has nowhere else to go.  Rant is at the end of it's rope.  For the love of God, open up the door and let Rant inside.  Rant is cold and Rant wants a bowl of soup.

These are not my shoes.  Or feet. 
www.funtimesguide.com

Left Foot's Rant (a.k.a "Rant"):

I feel so stupid sitting over here!  Just SITTING here.  I can't push the brakes, I can't push the gas.  If I even ASK Right Foot about it, he snaps at me and says to leave him alone because he's driving, like he's Mr. Important Man and I'm nothing but a slug's fart.  I'd like to play on an iPhone or Gameboy or something, but I've got no hands.  So, I sit.  Sit and stare at Right Foot showing off and flexing his muscles when it's time to make those big stops.  I tell him he just goes fast so he can stop suddenly and look really strong and in control.  I told him he wouldn't have to stop so suddenly if he would just let me control the brake pedal while he controls the gas.  Has he ever heard about the little preschool concept of SHARING??  He refuses.  The little selfish freak refuses.  Every.  Time.  Do you know how stupid I feel??  It's embarrassing and humiliating!  I feel like an idiot!  Everyone trusts me to help walk them everywhere, you see.  They trust me to help walk up and down the stairs. I'm great at pushing bike pedals, too!   You should see me on a highwire!  Have you ever seen Right Foot tiptoe anywhere all by himself?  CAN'T BE DONE!  But, driving? I'm treated like a useless moron when it comes to driving.  Makes no sense.  I'd kick that Right Foot right in the butt if he had one!

The last I heard, Left Foot was really trying to make a case for moving to Europe where the steering wheel is on the left side of the car.

(My husband's grandfather actually drives with one foot on the gas and one foot on the pedal.  His feet are happy and, apparently, argue very little.)








Quit blogging, right?  Save you from this insanity?

The Old Food White Elephant Party

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Within the past year, my sister has become a vegetarian.  Over that time, I have become more familiar with lots of odd words, like quinoa ("keen-wah", apparently), and combinations of things that she can't or won't eat.  This weekend, she "auctioned" off some of the food in her refrigerator and pantry because they no longer make the food cut in her house.  We all sat around salivating (not really) and entertained about what she'd display next.  It was like a White Elephant party gone terribly wrong. 

"I've got some ratatouille here."

"What's ratatouille?"

*"How old is it?"

"I'LL TAKE IT!"

"Well, I kind of thought ratatouille sounded good.  Go ahead and take the ratatouille and I'll take the falafel.  Can I have that hummus back?"

One of the items that she took out of her magical ice chest was Nutella.  She knows I am a big fan of Nutella Cupcakes, so she brought me the jar of what she had left.  When I glanced over at the jar in her hand, I got excited. 

My arm muscles were flexed to hold the weight of a heavy jar of Nutella, but instead it was as lighter than a newborn sugar ant.  It was about a fifth full.

See?  One thing that my sister is not is wasteful.  She has always been that way.  Other things she gave away yesterday were some used pad thai sauce, a package of Ramen noodles, frozen mixed vegetables and MEATLESS CHICKEN.  My grandmother's hand raised high every time there was a new food item introduced.  Going through the Depression apparently makes you want to scrape the sides of Pad Thai sauce jars until it yells for mercy and then spread it over fake chicken.

Seeing that meatless chicken made me realize that anything can be shaped into anything and eaten.  Big wig vegetarians dreamed of molding vegetable and wheat protein into a chicken nugget or a chicken cutlet and they made it happen.

Food can also be pureed for people with swallowing disorders and shaped into the food it is supposed to be and eaten.  Check out this delicious meal of pureed peas, turkey and mashed potatoes.  It looks like solid peas, but, really, is mushy and just molded like a piece of playdough to help fool the mind.

I just feel this ability to mold food into different shapes is just not reaching its potential.  I understand the point is to help people with eating difficulties "dine with dignity" or to help vegetarians feel they are able to eat a piece of dingdang meat, but why not make it more fun?  Why shape vegetable and wheat matter into chicken or shape pea mush into circles when you can shape it into things like some of the food items from my new company, "Fun & Fraudulent Foods"?

This one is perfect for people who have difficulty swallowing but want to chow
down on a hearty meal on Bingo night at the local VFW hall.

Everyone likes some money in their pocket, but the first people getting this hot number are the
denture-less elderly that are gambling their retirement away on all of the cruise ships.

This one will be sent out to all of the nursing homes in about 24 hours
 so they can get into the Halloween spirit while stuffing their faces this week.

Why I am not already a filthy millionaire, I will never know.

How To Improve Upon Awkward Hallway Conversations

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We have all been guilty of starting or participating in dishonest small talk. Pick any public space where you see someone you kind of know and BAM! It's happening.  For the purposes of this post, let's make the workplace an example.  Let's say you are passing an acquaintance in the hall.  Perhaps it's the accountant with the frizzy hair that you have seen in the lobby waiting for the elevator about five times before and she has escaped from her Accounting hole on the 4th floor and is wandering around on YOUR floor, the 11th.  The two of you are the ONLY ones in the hall and you are going in one direction and she is going in the other.  The hall is long.  The hall has no escape routes, such as water fountains, bathrooms or holes in the sheetrock where you can hide.

You. Must. Pass. Each. Other.

So, you muster up your best "How are you?", not sure if she will be the one to toss out the "How are you?" first (or maybe she'll just go with "Hi", you just never know), and mentally time when you will say it. Before you can even get to THAT point, you've got to time when you will provide eye contact. You can't be counting your footsteps like you are walking the plank on a pirate ship, lift your head up as she passes and blurt out "HOW ARE YOU!" like you are a freaky talking pigeon or something. It all has to appear very relaxed and sincere. And un-birdlike.

Which, of course, it's not.

You aren't REALLY intending for Frizzy-Haired Accountant to tell you how she is REALLY doing, because this conversation in the 10-second span you are given as you pass each other would be even MORE awkward:

"How are you?"

Neither of these men is the lady from Accounting.




















"JUST TERRIBLE!  Oh, gahhhhhhhh.  I've got this huge bunion that makes me just want to DIE!  Also, have you seen my hair?  "

"Well, have a good day!" 

(You have now officially passed each other.)

But Frizzy-Haired has broken the unwritten rules and is still talking: "I won't!  This bunion!  This mop on my head! *Also, I'm bloated!"

*Any talk about being bloated immediately relieves you of any responsibility to act socially acceptable.  You now have permission to shoot rubber bands at Frizzy-Haired Accountant's back as she walks away.

Sooooooooo awkward.

That is why I am suggesting we just replace howareyoui'mfinethanks with something else.  Not even "hi".  Sometimes "hi" can sound a little flirty and you don't want to give Bill from Accounts Payable with the lop-sided toupee any ideas.  So, from now on, if you feel compelled to say anything at all to the person you pass in the hall in an effort to not appear like a vicious warthog, maybe just say...

"I see you."

They'll say the same thing back to you and life goes on.

Because, really, that is all we are saying.  We are just acknowledging the fact that the person we see passing us is not, in fact, a very tall potted plant.

I mean, "I see you" can get flirty, too, especially if you are incapable of having a decent conversation due to your utter depravity.  For most, though, it offers just the right amount of sincerity. 
Other ideas:

*Play charades.  As you are getting closer, yell out, "WHAT AM I?" and fall on the floor writhing.  When they don't guess after 2 seconds, yell out, "I'm BACON, ya freak!  Ever seen bacon frying in a pan before??"

*Flash the peace sign.  They will be caught off guard and think you're a celebrity for a minute.  Accompany it by pronouncing it "pace" to really throw them off.

*Compliment something they're not wearing.  It is in the middle of the summer, so you should yell out, "NICE BOOTS!"  They'll think about how they aren't wearing boots and in that short time span, you'll already be gone.

Soooooo, what do you think?  You've got a better ideas, right?

Locked Up For Love

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Do you think Crystal Gayle will ever donate her long, long hair to Locks of Love, the organization that provides hairpieces to disadvantaged children with long-term medical hair loss?

Check. Out. That. Hair.
Source: Erichovo Faschion Blog



I guess she didn't.  It looks like that mane just kept getting trimmed.  Locks of Love has probably been SALIVATING over Rapunzel Gayle's hair for a very, very long time.  In fact, I recently saw the picture below in the Nashville News Gazette Inquirer Sentinel that kind of proves me right.

Pink Pants is about to be Locked Up For Love, youknowhatI'msayin?

The scary scene above apparently took place at a photo shoot in Nashville. I'm not sure how that "Locks of Love" weirdo in hot pink pants got access to the studio. I bet Crystal Gayle was scared, but you'd never know it!  The lady can smile while being threatened with VERY LARGE scissors!  I guess all those years in show business have brought some strange people across her path.  She knows how to deal with all kinds.

SIDENOTE: I'm really confused.  Didn't she have a song with the
line "Don't it make my brown eyes blue"?  Her eyes ARE blue.

I'm really thinking that Locks of Love should expand their business with a smaller company called Lint for Love.  Think about all the lint that we clean out of our dryers.  Couldn't some of that be put to good use instead of thrown away?   Couldn't it be used as stuffing for pillows, mattresses, couch cushions, fat suits on movie sets, padded bras, car seats and Thanksgiving stuffing?  You know...to provide it with some more substance?  No?  Another idea?  Put it inside a bounce house-like enclosure, except the kids get to frolick in lint instead of jumping up and down like orangutans on huge air mattresses.  I mean, that's been done countless times before.  Lint Houses may be the hot new thing for birthday parties!

From Blog/Nadeem Hadairy



 

Apparently, developing alternate uses for lint is not a new idea.  Here are some actual things people do with leftover lint found over at DIY Life that Lint for Love could help expand: stuffing for stuffed animals, addition for the compost heap, art (some have been known to make paper from it), cushion small items for shipping, non-edible lint-based clay (instead of paper-mache) and you can also stuff it in old tube socks and use it as a draft stopper.  Clever, huh??

Maybe it has to be a requirement.  The hair donation won't be acceptable unless it is accompanied with a big wad of lint.  The big Locks of Love warehouse in West Palm Beach will have one side full of human hair and the other side with lint.  Nice image, right?  Maybe after the kids get tired out from jumping in the Lint House, they can take a tour of the Locks & Lint for Love warehouse.  I bet they have a party room that wouldn't cost much to rent!

The only drawback to Locks of Love taking on Lint for Love as a side business is that it will give people more reasons to feel bad about themselves for not donating.  You see when people tell me their donating their tresses to needy people, this is how I feel:

Source for the lady's hair: Pile of Photos.

(By the way, I'm the black dot.)

Freckle juice

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Do you have freckles?

Not on  your arms or back or right ear lobe.  Freckles on your face.  Do you have those? 

If your answer is "no", well, you are the person I would have wanted to have been back in elementary school.  You could have had a rhinoceros horn growing out of your left arm pit and not a single tooth, but, if you had no freckles on your face, I still would have wanted to have been you. 

My hair is dark brown, my eyes are blue and my skin is fair.  In the summer, my skin will tan, but, in general, I have fair skin that freckles.  I hated that!  Barbie and Skipper didn't have freckles!

I distinctly remember tapping a girl on the shoulder while I was behind her in the water line in the second grade to ask her if she liked her freckles.  I don't remember what she said.  It was probably something along the lines of "Why don't you just go and stick your head in the toilet!", but I'm not sure.  Can't be certain.

I remember staring at pictures of myself as a three-year-old and wondering why I couldn't have that skin again.

I didn't care that I looked like a mini-hooker on an ugly couch,
I was just happy I didn't have freckles.

Maybe my aversion to them was because they could be counted.  When I would visit my aunt and uncle in Florida, my uncle would say to me, "Hey Kel-Kel, let me count those freckles.  You know you get a new freckle every time you kiss a boy.  Let me see how you have there!"  I was in elementary school and I would get SO embarrassed by his freckle counting bit.  I would have rather eaten a bowl of Molten Hot Lava Oatmeal  for breakfast than have my freckles counted.

You can only imagine how eager I was to read Freckle Juice by Judy Blume when I saw it in the my elementary school's library.  I thought there was going to be a recipe to a secret potion that would erase my freckles forever!  No such luck.  Apparently, Andrew, the main character, wanted freckles like Nicky Lane.  He wanted them so his dirt would mix in with his freckles and his mother wouldn't make him take a bath as often.  (I thought I might as well have been Pig-Pen or something.)  The Freckle Juice containing grape juice, vinegar, mustard, mayonnaise, juice from one lemon, salt & pepper, ketchup, oil oil and a speck of onion was actually meant to give you freckles, dagnabbit.  How was that supposed to help me?  I would have drank that Freckle Juice and happily taken multiple trips to the ER for a routine stomach pumping if I thought it was going to get rid of my freckles.

Did anyone ever turn Pig-Pen's mom into CPS?
Source: Paperback Swap

I never really stopped looking for ways to get rid of them while I was living at home.  I remember seeing creams my mom had that were supposed to erase age spots on her hands.  I'd slather that expensive mess all over my face, rinse and then stare into the mirror.

Nothing changed.

Maybe if the internet had been around then, I would have erased my freckles forever.  Is there anything better than that?  Weren't all things good hinging on getting rid of freckles??   If the internet had been around then, I probably would have tapped my mom on the shoulder and handed her this grocery list:

-lemon juice
-SOUR MILK
-onion
-Big League chew
-cucumber
-Tiger Beat magazine
-parsley juice
-honey
-papaya juice
-new Barbie
-Guess jeans
-Liz Claiborne perfume
-Kirk Cameron himself

Apparently, some of these food ingredients can be spread individually or together all over your face to rid it of freckles.  Apparently, there are people out there that want you to turn your face into a salad bar.

(Did you happen to notice "sour milk"?  Someone wants me to pour sour milk on my face so I can get rid of my freckles.  Someone wants me to dip my face in a sour milk smoothie.  Someone wants me to smell like an old, rotting refrigerator with curdled milk in it.)

Maybe if the internet had been around then, I would have waited a minute before handing my mom that grocery list, because I would have discovered these celebrities with freckles from Bella Sugar and would have realized that I didn't need to erase anything.

Emma Watson

Giselle Bundchen

Julianne Moore

Bar Rafaeli

Megan Fox

I bet none of them poured sour milk on their faces.  If they were handed a freckle juice that removed them forever, I bet they'd pour it down the drain.  Freckled faces are beautiful, too!  (Take that, Barbie!)

We could take a whole other tangent here and talk about women in media, the emphasis on beauty and perfection in the looks department and how all of this negatively affects young girls (Ahem...Toddlers & Tiaras) and how I'm not helping anything here by showing two of Leonardo DiCaprio's former girlfriends, one of which is a Victoria Secret model, but I'll stop here.

I want to hear from you.

Did you ever feel insecure about something like I did when you were younger that you now feel very differently about? 

The story of my son

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Tomorrow is my oldest son's birthday.  He will be 7.  Though I try to keep things light in the Break Room generally (and, I'll admit, gross lately with my funny cat-loving friend's Kitty Litter Cake and weird bugs posts this week), today I feel the need to go down a different path.  Since I will be busy like a crazed lunatic (more than usual) getting ready for the weekend, I thought I would write this post about my son a day early.

More than anything, I would love to show you a close-up picture of his handsome face and tell you his name.  A name that his dad picked.  For various reasons, I don't divulge that here.  The picture above is him at 4 and is sideways enough that I feel okay about putting it out here.  Just know that my sweet 7-year-old has blonde hair, blue eyes, is taller than most kids his age, is thin and has had my heart in the palm of his hand since I found out he was mine.

I never thought I would have him.

Just tonight, a family friend of mine asked me to share the story of how my two sons came to be.  Like most married couples, I never expected that it would take us a long time to conceive.  I thought it would take one to two months, six months at the most, but that was not the case.  As I recounted the details and doctor visits to her, tears streamed down my cheeks.  Infertility can be so painful.  So ugly.  Such a lonely and misunderstood place to be.  No one wants to be there.

During those dark days of my infertility struggles, I was bitter, angry, jealous, sad and defensive so much of the time.  I went from a person with lots of hope to a person crashing down with defeat.  There are songs that I remember listening to that brought me hope that still trigger tears when I hear them now, like Every Season by Nichole Nordeman.

Many have stories much more difficult than mine.  Everything is relative.  It took us 2 1/2 years to have our first son and 2 years to have our second.  If I sat down right now and typed out our journey, you would be sitting in front of your computer until all of your hair and teeth fell out.  So, I am not going go there.  If you are struggling with infertility and want to know personal details, I would be happy to talk with you about it over an e-mail, in person or over the phone.  I want to be here for you.  I want to help your hair and teeth fall out.

Since I am celebrating the birth of my son on October 14, 2004, I want this post to be about him.  I tell him all the time that the happiest day of my life was when I found out I was going to have him.  Although there are many, many happy moments of my life, including many surrounding his dad and his brother, of course, the day I found out that I was actually going to have a baby was unbelievable.

I was at my very good friend's house.  I was talking to her and another dear friend of mine about the whole infertility thing.  I was in tears that another month had gone down the drain.  I knew I wasn't pregnant that month, either.  They kept asking me if I was sure to which I replied, "Of course, I'm sure."

They still made me take a pregnancy test, which I thought was a complete waste of time.

I remember being in that little 1920's bathroom with the black and white tile and white pedestal sink all by myself.  That house has since been knocked down, but it will forever be a part of my memories.  That bathroom will forever be associated with the complete elation combined with utter shock when I saw that there were two pink lines.

Two pink lines that were never meant for me.

But these were.

(Excuse me, y'all.  I'm crying and sniffling over here.  Give me a minute.)

Those two girls celebrated with me and their happiness for me touched my heart.  We all got in the car, sped to Target and looked for baby things that I could take home to surprise my husband with that night.

Now, 7 years and 9 months later, I am celebrating my son's birthday.  When he gets sad, when he feels defeated, when he feels insecure, when he feels rejected, when he feels hurt...it crushes me.  I want him to know that he is loved beyond what words can express.  I want him to know that when I realized that a small budding human being was inside me, I loved him completely already.

I think sometimes I keep to the humorous and light-hearted as a way to keep my emotions in check and also because, well, I like to write about nonsense.  While we were trying to have a child, I was working at M. D. Anderson Cancer Center in Houston.  I worked with many, many children, some of which are no longer with us today.  If I just THINK about those kids that I came to love and how they are no longer with their parents, if I just THINK about it, I lose it.  I just lose it.  I can't imagine writing about serious stuff here in the Break Room.  I would be an emotional wreck every day.  Yes, for me, talking about five reasons Mister Roger's stressed me out back in the day is definitely more my thing.


Still, because I know that life is short and nothing is guaranteed, I felt compelled to take a different turn today to honor the miracle that we feel our son is to us.  Both of them.  I want to make sure that not a day passes where my sons don't realize how much they are loved and wanted.  I know you feel the same way about the people you love in your life.

Sooooo....you'll forgive me for getting all mushy and melancholy today, right?

(Happy birthday, little dude.)

Five Creeps of Nature That We Have GOT to Discuss

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The other night I was looking through my 6-year-old's bug book with him and had to down about a gallon of Pepto Bismol to make it through the whole thing.  Apparently, there are over 800,000 types of insects.  Because I know you'd like to finish this post before you hit 98 years of age, I picked five to show you.

#1: The Kenyan DUNG BEETLE

Take a wild guess why this one is so gross.  Besides the fact
that the sick thing eats POOP, he rolls it into balls before doing so.  Poop is
big business in the dung beetle world.  In fact, a well-known dung beetle entrepreneur, Long Duck Dung, just opened The Dung Beetle Bakery at the corner of Dirt Mound and Dead Grass Patch and sells Poop Balls right beside his famous Cake Balls.
(Picture via: Totus Conservative Politcal Commentary)

#2: EARWIG

STOP RIGHT THERE, Insect Namer!  Pick another name before I have to get Pepto Bismol fed to me intravenously.  This name is more than I can take.  What in the heck.  According to the source for all knowledge, Wikipedia, an earwig's name came from the Old English word "eara", which means ear, and "wicga", which means insect.  This name is derived from an old wives' tale that you can find here.  (Warning: It's gross!)
Source: Intelligent Pest Solutions

#3: GLOWWORM

All of those years of watching my sister cuddling with her stuffed Glowworm and I STILL didn't know there was a REAL insect by that name.  Did you?
(Source: Shakespeares Navigators)

#4: HORNWORM

This nasty thing attacks tomato & tobacco plants.  It is a type of caterpillar and can grow to be FOUR INCHES LONG.   This bug alone is why I'm going to give the next person I meet who works on a tobacco or tomato farm a big, big bug hug.  The next time you either light up a cigarette or eat something with tomatoes, think of the hornworms a migrant worker had to fight off to get that to you!
Source: Butterflies & Curmudgeons

#5: WATER STRIDER

When my 6-year-old saw the picture of the water strider, he said, "Look, Mom, this bug is just like Jesus because he can walk on water.  That bug is just like Jesus!"  Apparently, my son didn't stop to wonder if this bug can turn water into wine.  Let's think things through next time, son!

I would love to show you more, but my Pepto Bismol ran out and you've got a funny look on your face.

Kitty Litter Cake

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Here is one of her cats hiding out in the pantry.

My friend, Gail, really loves cats, especially her cats.  I have mentioned Gail before in a post about string cheese and tampons, but I'm not sure if I have mentioned how much she loves cats?  Everyone that knows Gail knows she loves her cats.   Her cats love her, too, of course.  In fact, one of them was so angry that Gail left for vacation once, that he peed right on her clothes in her suitcase.  How dare she leave him!

Gail didn't realize it that a such a crime had been committed, though.

Soooo....Gail pulled out those gym clothes from her suitcase and wore them to exercise.

Gail was on an exercise bike at the gym in said gym clothes.

Gail was beside a very attractive man.

Gail noticed him sniffing the air.

Gail realized, in horror, that her cat peed on her gym clothes and that he was sniffing the air to find out where THAT SCENT was coming from (I am actually not sure WHEN she fully realized she was walking around smelling like her cat's tinkle).


So, Gail played it off....and started sniffing the air beside her in an attempt to somehow persuade the very attractive man that it was the person beside her that smelled like cat urine and sweat.

Gail thought fast.

I'm not sure the man was convinced...or maybe he was?  I wish we knew.

Here's the deal: cats are intentional, smart and cunning.  And sometimes really mean.  That's why I don't like cats.  My blogging friend, Kimberly, from My Inner Chick wrote a recent post about her cat, Charlie, WHO PEED ON HER SON'S HEAD.  Kimberly's son's head.  On purpose.  Case closed.

Anyway, back to Gail.  She very recently changed jobs.  Since it is no mystery that she adores her pets, her co-workers made her this very special cake:

I'm not much of a recipe sharer on this blog, but...I couldn't pass this one up.

Ha!!!  Right?  Ha and ew?  You may have seen this cake before, but it was a new one for me.  I REALLY laughed at this cake.  If you have a cat lover in your life, or want a fun Halloween dessert, you just HAVE to make them this cake.  I really don't see that you have any choice in the matter.

ingredients:

• 1 (18.25 ounce) package German chocolate cake mix
• 1 (18.25 ounce) package white cake mix
• 2 (3.5 ounce) packages instant vanilla pudding mix
• 1 (12 ounce) package vanilla sandwich cookies
• 3 drops green food coloring
• 1 (12 ounce) package tootsie rolls
• Serve it in an actual kitty litter box with a kitty litter scooper!

Directions

1. Prepare cake mixes and bake according to package directions (any size pan).
2. Prepare pudding according to package directions and chill until ready to assemble.
3. Crumble sandwich cookies in small batches in a food processor, scraping often. Set aside all but 1/4 cup. To the 1/4 cup add a few drops of green food coloring and mix.
4. When cakes are cooled to room temperature, crumble them into a large bowl. Toss with 1/2 of the remaining cookie crumbs, and the chilled pudding. You probably won't need all of the pudding, you want the cake to be just moist, not soggy.
5. Line kitty litter box with the kitty litter liner. Put cake mixture into box.
6. Put half of the unwrapped tootsie rolls in a microwave safe dish and heat until softened. Shape the ends so that they are no longer blunt, and curve the tootsie rolls slightly. Bury tootsie rolls randomly in the cake and sprinkle with half of the remaining cookie crumbs. Sprinkle a small amount of the green colored cookie crumbs lightly over the top.
7. Heat 3 or 4 of the tootsie rolls in the microwave until almost melted. Scrape them on top of the cake and sprinkle lightly with some of the green cookie crumbs. Heat the remaining tootsie rolls until pliable and shape as before. Spread all but one randomly over top of cake mixture. Sprinkle with any remaining cookie crumbs. Hang the remaining tootsie roll over side of litter box and sprinkle with a few green cookie crumbs. Serve with the pooper scooper for a gross Halloween dessert.               



*The recipe was taken from All Recipes*

***If you DO have cats, be sure to make this FAR away from them so they don't think it's a REAL litter box, for goodness sakes!***

"All The Single Daddies"

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They're having a GIRL!
www.overgroundonline.com

Beyonce and Jay-Z, who were married in December 2007, will be having a baby in February 2012.  Beyonce is from the same city as me, Houston, so I feel like we are practically sisters, cousins or BFFs or something.  My favorite part of Jay-Z's song "Empire State of Mind" is when he says "BK is from Texas".  I sing that part the loudest while yelling, "HECK YEAH, SHE IS!!  UH-HUH!  HOUSTON!  YOU KNOW IT!" and then send her a tweet to ask if she wants to come over and eat pizza.  She never responds.  I guess she's just busy or something.  She'll probably get back with me tomorrow when she tells me the date and location of her baby shower.


Anyway, thinking about this happy time in their lives brought back to my mind some of Beyonce's songs, including one of her most famous, "All The Single Ladies".  Obviously, Beyonce is no longer single.  So, since we are best friends and everything, I am taking it upon myself to alter the song a bit for the benefit of all of the single DADDIES out there.  I know there are a lot of single mothers that deserve a standing ovation, but that doesn't quite go with the rhythm, you know?  "All The Single Mommies"?  NOT GONNA WORK.  I also think the dads are overlooked.  There are single dads out there!  Even if they are not single all the time, some of them are stay-at-home dads and practically feel single while their wives are away.  So, this song is for "All The Single Daddies".

(In case you need to listen to it to get that rhythm in your head)

All the single daddies (7x)

Now hold your kids up!

Up in the tub, the bubbles bubblin' up

You're washing your kids while you sing 

You decided to dip, but baby hit his lip

Cuz his brother was playing like he was in the sea

You're up on him, tell him "Can't you see?"

You tell him to pay closer attention

He cried some tears, you remember he's only 3 years

Then he said "Daddy, don't be mad at me!"

[Chorus]
Then you remembered if they bump it, you needa put some cream on it
If they got a rash then you always put some cream on it
Never can get mad if you see red bumps on 'em
Just gotta remember, you needa put some cream on it.

wo oh ooh oh oh ooh oh oh ooh oh oh oh x2

You got the phone to your lips, a baby on your hips
Your 3 year-old holdin' tight to your Daddy jeans
They're acting up, you put Coke in their sippy cups
You couldn't care less what others think
You need no permission, we heard you mention
"This Daddy's in charge of the kitchen!"
You make your kid take his turn
Tell him now he's gonna learn
"What it really feels like to obey me!"

[Chorus]
Then you remembered if they bump it, you needa put some cream on it
If they got a rash then you always put some cream on it
Never can get mad if you see red bumps on 'em
Just gotta remember, you needa put some cream on it.

woo oh ooh oh oh ooh oh oh ooh oh oh oh 2x

You don't care about the things of this world
You just love your boy and girl
Your love is what they prefer, what they deserve
But, sometimes you wish they'd pick up more toys like Woody
And Buzz Lightyear with his "to infinity and beyond!!"
Because it's hard to do EVERYTHING with your two arms
You tell them "This is what I WANT
If you don’t clean, you’ll go to your room alone
And like a ghost, your toys’ll be gone."

All the single daddies (7x)

Now hold your kids up!

woo oh ooh oh oh ooh oh oh ooh
oh oh oh 2x

If song parodies are your thing, you can see more of mine HERE.

Saving The Faceless Baby

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In 1996, I worked at an afterschool daycare with my friends, Mari & Cristy, and my boyfriend (now husband), Chris.  We also worked with a sweet lady named Carmen.  Carmen had a thick accent and it was difficult to understand her sometimes.  You never wanted to be deep inside the "games closet" when Carmen came in, because she would talk to you for a long time and block the exit out of the closet.  You'd essentially be trapped in there well after you collected Connect Four, Yahtzee and Guess Who listening to Carmen tell you a story that you couldn't understand but that she obviously thought was hilarious. 

"And then I asdfkjaspodfuasgddjasdufsaldjfsaldjfskfdsadf ellos ellas verdad.  So, I said sadlfl;ajdsejtlas....HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!"

"Really?  I can't believe that!  You know what?  I've got to get going.  These kids are really dying to play Guess Who and there are all, like, unattended in ther..."

"Then I told her I didn't wasdfkas;kdfjasljd;askjdlsajd;jgsaldjfasjflasjsa tambien.  HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!"

You could only smile and nod for so long before you wanted to fake your demise.  The thing was, Carmen would have been able to save you and then you would have to listen to her unintelligible stories again.

Carmen was CPR-certified.

 

I know this because we all became CPR-certified with her.



When I think back to times I've laughed really hard that I was crying, THIS story definitely comes to mind.  Carmen was doing her best, as we all were, to keep up with the instructor and his many "simple" rules for how to remember CPR.  We knew the very first thing to do was to locate someone by LOOKING THEM IN THE EYE and then proceed to work your CPR magic.

Carmen went first.

"QUICK!  YOU!  CALL NIGH-WAH-WAH!!"

 

Then she goes down and almost face plants on this:

All of this came back to me last night as I renewed my CPR certification.  The one thing that all CPR courses want to stress to you is that it is EASY.  The steps to remember are so SIMPLE, but every time I get re-certified, there are a hundred new updates.  To save you the time you will certainly spend Googling all of these updates after reading this post, I thought I'd just tell you about four of them right now.

 

 

 

These pertain to adults, so wipe the faceless baby image from your mind now.

#1: You no longer compress 1 1/2 to 2 inches while singing "Don't Break My Heart, My Ache-y Breaky Heart" as loud as you possibly can. 
NOW: Compress 2 inches (no singing).

#2: You no longer compress 100 times a minute while telling a knock-knock joke to the person you are saving to try to keep the mood light. 
NOW: Compress AT LEAST 100 times in a minute (no jokes).

#3: You no longer apply the A-B-C (airway-breathing-circulation) principle while tilting your head to the left and clicking your tongue. 
NOW: It's C-A-B now, folks, as in circulation-airway-breathing.  To help you remember, just think CAB, as in The Yellow Cab.  If you see someone that needs CPR, call a CAB! 

#4: You no longer "look, listen and feel for breathing".
 NOW: Get busy!  If that person looks a lifeless, bust out your face mask and get to puffing and pushing.  You have no time to waste.  If you hear them breathing again, don't stop.  You aren't not supposed to look, listen or feel for breathing anymore, remember?  Just keep going until she knocks you out with her shoe.


There are about 800 more updates, but I can see you looking at your watch. 

__________________________________________________________

Today's JUICE IN THE CITY Deal

Houston/The Woodlands

In Old Town Spring, there is a cute store called The Cottage that carries women's and children's clothing, toys and gifts.  Today's deal is for $20 worth of merchandise for only $10.  I absolutely LOVE Old Town Spring, so will take any excuse to walk around the quaint houses and shops for a chance to buy something unique.  If you are interested in this deal, which will be available today and tomorrow (the 4th & 5th),  go HERE!

Do you have a friend that you love?

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My friend, Kristin, from Only Parent Chronicles joined some other bloggers in creating the website, Friends You Love.  During Mondays in October, they are encouraging you to ask someone that follows your blog to guest post for you about friendship and then link that post up with the others on the Friends You Love site.  It can be a new friend that means a lot to you or an old friend you have had forever!  In addition to the Monday blog hop I just described, they are also hosting a contest for the person that writes the best "Why I have the World's Greatest BFF!" post.  So, if you want to give your BFF a shout-out, write the post and link up with their contest HERE.  Entries are accepted from now until October 22nd.  Today, Kristin is featuring my post over at the Friends You Love site that describes the world's greatest BFF- mine!  I have known her since the 4th grade and share some stories that I hope will make you smile!  I would love to see your face over there! Click HERE to read about how I was accused of making a sweater smell like hyena's breath and other facts about my friendship with my BFF.