Just want to apologize to my dear readers or being off the grid this past week.
1. It’s finals for both me and Buddy. As in FINAL FINALS. As in, we graduate next week.
2. Buddy has pneumonia, and pterodactyl has an upper-respiratory infection. Need I say more?
I promise I’ll write more when the hustle and bustle calms down!!
I’m normally quick to pass judgment on the cars with stick figure families. In addition to being straight-up tacky, they’re rocked by geeks. These are the same people who probably have a collection of, “I’m With Stupid” tee-shirts and Thomas Kinkade paintings around their homes.
For those of you who secretly love those car stickers and want to decorate your station wagon: don’t worry. I’m planning a line of Stick Figure Families that are not only honest and accurate, but informative to other drivers who share the roads with you:
Naked Stick Family
Does this exist? If so, I want to see a collection on every car in America. If not, I’m throwing that shit under the D&V copyrights and making a line of them. Imagine it: dingalings and va-jay-jays adorning these little stick people, showing us what this family is REALLY about!. We could even differentiate for the variety of patrons out there! The “Daddy” stick figure could feature a variety of Wang sizes. This would be especially useful when Daddy cuts you off in traffic: upon seeing the Naked Stick Father with the itty-bitty dick, you’ll automatically feel pity instead of anger. And for all the breast-feeding mommas out there, Stick Figure Mommy can have standard boobs, or a rack that hangs down to her stick figure knees! I think this is my favorite idea of the bunch. 0:-)
Controversial Stick Figure Family
Gay parents, interracial families, polygamy: under these circumstances, any old stick figure family will do. The fun here is driving down the street in rural Bible Belt territory and watching the expressions on the faces of the plebeians when they realize that there are two stick figure mommies (and possibly a Stick Figure Daddy, too), or one black stick figure and one white stick figure. Oh, what fun!
Single People
There are two sub-categories here. First, you have the “Single and Happy” crowd. We need to make a line of stick figure people for you. Instead of children and cats, your stick figure people will come with degrees, large bank accounts, and an active sex life. (Any suggestions for what THAT sticker would look like? I’m thinking an unrolled condom…) For the “Single and Depressed” folks, your car stickers would come with Weight Watchers frozen meals, Fabio-covered novels, and cats. Lots of cats. We’ll get the message loud and clear when we pull up behind your slow-as-shit Kia in traffic to find one stick figure woman and 36 stick figure cats. And maybe a stick figure vibrator.
Fatties
Consider it a warning label for drivers who may want to park beside this minivan: chubby stick figure people will alert you to leave a lot of space between your car and theirs! If fatties are willing to own their shit, I say, let ’em have their stick figure people. (Isn’t that a fun little paradox?!)
What stick figure families have you always wanted to see? Thanks for reading and commenting!
We just got a broom thing (see photo) in my classroom to help keep the carpet tidy. The dork that I am, I excitedly swept the floor of my room, picking up bits of paper, eraser residue, and loose staples. One of my kids yelled, “Miss, over here!” He directed me to the large chunk of weave lying on the floor, obviously missing from some poor girl’s head. I am thrilled to announce that this product is so effective that it swept up the weave in one stroke!
I need to get out of this place…
In our community, we have this nifty little kitchen store/cooking class establishment. They lure you in with discounts on their products and all-you-can-drink wine and beer with your cooking class, which is how they convince you to drop $50 per person. I wonder if it’s wise to give people chardonnay AND sharp knives, but I haven’t heard of any cooking class fatalities yet.
I’ve taken a couple of these cooking classes with both Buddy and Daisy. It’s pretty nice: they provide you with ingredients, and you get to cook with top-of-the-line kitchen gadgets, while a team of volunteers clean up after you (in exchange for whatever food you cook that night.) Even though I’m not a big sweet food fan, I made this Crème Brulee with Buddy at one of these classes, and it was so amazingly awesome that I was inclined to share:
Ingredients:
Directions:
Daisy and I were chatting today about friendship.
Well, not ours. We’re not friends; we’re heterosexual life partners.
We were talking about adult relationships with our childhood friends.
You see, Daisy and I each have one friend who’s survived the murky waters of childhood, adolescence, those nasty teenage years, the rebellious post-high school mess, and adulthood. (Or, as Daisy puts it, “…friends since before I had hair on my twat.”) We call these two women, respectively, our best friends. And they are. But they almost weren’t.
Daisy’s Pre-Pube-Hair buddy surfaced in early elementary school. They went to middle school together, although she attended a different high school from Daisy and me. Even though this woman went to college several hundred miles away from Daisy, they maintained their friendship. Daisy confesses that their friendship endured some tumultuous times when their life paths drifted apart: Daisy jumped on the Weeds-esque suburban housewife train, while this woman pursued her education and then her career. Single and childless, she has made dramatically different life choices from Daisy.
My childhood BFF and I met in fifth grade. We played dolls together, took dance lessons together, and attended middle and high school together, only to part for undergrad. This woman has always been my “Jimminy Cricket,” so to speak. Unlike most people, I literally have an angel and a devil living on my shoulders, whispering suggestions into my ear. If Daisy is the devil, this woman is, and always was, the angel. I would skip school with Daisy during the day, then go to this girl’s house at night to cram for an AP exam. She and I are on similar life paths: we’re both wives and mothers, we have the same levels of education, and we’re in the same profession. In spite of all our commonalities, our friendship entered a decline.
Why does this happen, Daisy and I mused. How can we share so much history with these women, and harbor so much pure love for them, but not have the same quality of friendship we once shared? In Daisy’s case, she speculates that their diverging life plans kept them too preoccupied with different priorities to make time for one another. Between me and my Six Foot Conscience, we simply became too wrapped up in the day-to-day banalities of teaching, motherhood, and social obligations to remember to pick up the phone. These are simply excuses, and it doesn’t justify allowing our friendships to lapse like a magazine subscription you swear you’re going to renew.
Recent events have thrust these women back into our lives. Daisy and her friend have reconnected over – you guessed it – babies. This woman recently became an Auntie, and Daisy guided her through “What To Expect When Someone You Love Is Expecting.” The eternal expert on everything baby-related, this woman wisely turned to Daisy for information and guidance as she welcomed a new diaper-clad person in her life. My best friend and I had a bit of a spat, at the end of which we decided the only resolution was to make a commitment to one another to talk regularly (daily, if we could hack it with our conflicting schedules.) We realized that our friendship was in deep shit if we didn’t reach out to one another, and have upheld this bargain so far.
Daisy and I are learning how much work adult friendships are. Sure, fun-loving, personable girls such as Daisy and I have no problem making “friends” at work, play groups, or among other parents of children the same age as ours. But in a phase of life when one barely has time to take out the trash and scoop the litter box, do we really have the where-with-all to dedicate to new acquaintances? We agreed that it is crucial for us to nurture these respective friendships, if not for preserving their longevity, then because these women have loved us at our worst.
Tell us about how you’ve had to work to maintain important friendships in your life. We want to know we’re not curmudgeons. =]
You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me. -Violet
Coming from a family of foodies, the vast majority of my recipes have been passed down to me from my parents. Anything I cook, my parents prepare better. It’s hard carving out one’s own culinary identity when every recipe in one’s repertoire came from Mom or Dad. I never had my own contribution to the table until I stumbled upon this black bean salsa recipe, which I modified and made my own. It was a huge hit with my family; it’s fresh, it’s low-fat, and it is absolutely delicious.
Ingredients:
Directions:
Combine all ingredients except lime juice and seasonings in a bowl. Stir. Squeeze the lime into the mixture, stir. Add salt, pepper, and Tobasco, stir. If you want to make this into black bean guacamole, add the avocado in the beginning.
Serve with tortilla chips and a smile.
The tooth fairy has been pretty busy at our house for the past long while. Collectively, Diva & Intuitive have lost 11 teeth. 7 of those are Diva’s, 4 are Intuitive’s.
Some have been bloody, some have fallen out while they’re eating. Some have been yanked out by a grown up, some have been yanked out by the owner.
All 11 have been an exciting event, complete with a picture to text message to a handful of relatives. The most recent loss, (just yesterday) was Intuitive’s second top front tooth. When I went to pick the kids up from school, she held up a little plastic bag (I guess after you lose 2 teeth at school, they decide to stop giving you the cute little treasure box to take it home with) with her slightly bloody tooth. She regailed us with her tale:
“IT WAS SOOOOOOOOO BLOODY! IT WAS AWESOME!”
At this point, I lied and said that I was very sorry I missed the momentous, and bloody, occasion. Once again, we have a child with a large hole in her mouth, and a slight lisp. If she’s anything like her sister, those two front teeth will take 5 months to come in, and we will have some time to enjoy the toothless grins. As Violet mentioned yesterday, as Pterodactyl gains teeth, we lose them.
With the 11 (and counting) teeth that have fallen from Diva & Intuitive’s mouths… The tooth fairy has been busy. The Mayor & First Husband always used to do something creative when I lost a tooth. The money would be in fun formations, there would be props, etc. I decided a long time ago to do similar things.
Then I had 3 children. Then the 2 older ones started loosing teeth… Then we got to…. oh… tooth 6? And would you believe it…
That bitch, the tooth fairy, FORGOT to come visit.
Actually, the bitch fell asleep on the sofa and just plain forgot to lay out the money on the table. Once morning came, and the kid was looking for her loot, I had to do some fancy footwork. Ran to the kitchen, grabbed some glitter and made it look like the dumbass tooth fairy got lost and came in through the kitchen, leaving a pile of glitter, and a few extra dollars.
It worked, but…
I felt like SUCH an ass.
(Oh, and did I mention that it was Intuitive’s… like.. first or second tooth?)
Since then, I have had to set reminders on my phone when teeth fall out. It’s worked so far, and last night, the fairy left an intricate chain of dollar bills and the tooth hanging from the fan pulley-thing with paperclips.
All 3 kids were thoroughly impressed at the Tooth Fairy’s innovative presentation. Now, it’s off to plan what the hell the dumass tooth fairy will have to do next time, since there are at least 3 more loose teeth in Diva & Intuitive’s mouths.
Has the Tooth Fairy ever forgotten to visit you?
-Daisy
Daisy and I are so proud that we have so many loyal followers. Many of you come from as far away as India and The Philippines to read our snark and engage in our lives.
So what we really want to know is: what do you need from us? Do you come here for advice and wisdom? (ha!) Are you looking for a good laugh? Wanna commiserate over your own parenting woes with people who are likely bigger fuckups than you are? Are you enjoying Violet’s faux gourmet recipes?
We can offer you all these things and more, Dear Readers. Why do you come here? What would you like to see more of? What can we give you to keep you coming back for more (and sharing us with your friends?)
Thanks for reading and commenting!
Sisters? We're close.
Daisy and Violet 