Rachel Callahan

The Presidenim Election.

March 13, 2012November 3, 2013 Rachel Callahan Denim Drama, Don't Listen to my Fashion Advice, Pop Post, This is TONGUE IN CHEEK People - Don't take me Seriously., Utter Silliness

I have a list of subjects that I refuse to blog about, and my political leanings are very near the top of that document, right behind – oh wait – blogging about the contents of the list is on the list.

However, I find myself at a place in time where I absolutely MUST make an exception. The reason is that despite the continuous election coverage, the endless mailers, and the mind-slaughtering number of robocalls I’m getting from beggarly candidates (who also don’t give a flip about the fact that I’m on the Do Not Call list), there seems to be a significant gap in coverage about one vital issue in the presidential campaign.

Thank goodness for Shepard Smith, because he’s the only one brave enough to bring it to the forefront – well, he and I are, anyway.

We need to talk about Presidential Denim.

We can’t have the Leader of the Free World prancing around the globe trying to act all powerful and in-control while wearing Mom Jeans.

Shamefully, we’ve had to suffer this fate worse than death for four years already.

Do you know how much Paris must be sniggering at that jean length?

And London at the circa 1985 denim wash?

Milan is scoffing the fact that he has enough room in those pants for an Iranian Spy to hide out, and Italian shoemakers are sobbing into their Fettuccine, praying that he would trade in those rubber sneakers for some nice leather boots made to go with jeans.

Unfortunately, though, some of his opponents appear as if they will take this travesty to new and cruelly horrific heights.

Literally.

The only thing that makes the plight of Mom Jeans on Men (MJoM) worse is when they’re worn in a 62 inch inseam.

Romney has perfected the art of Mom Jeans, heralding the high waist, the horrible blues, the shapeless legs, and the terrible pocket placement at every campaign stop.

(If only he had asked for denim advice from the dude he’s standing next to in this photo, his campaign and therefore our world could have the potential to be totally different.)

His opponent, Rick Santorum, brings the fashion bar slightly higher by wearing what can clearly be defined as Dad Jeans.

At least they sit below his nipples, are the right color, and have some shape to them. This earns him the Dad-hipness level to star in a Swagger Wagon video.

Ironically enough though, the best jeans in this whole race also happen to belong to the oldest man out there.

Seventy-Six years old and this man is blowing away the competition.

Look at that wash!

Look at that fit!

Look at those nice stylish fade lines!

Look away before you get to his old man orthopedic shoes.

Thank you, Dr. Paul, for showing the other contestants* how it’s done. Not to say that I’m going to vote for you (or that I’m not – after all, I don’t talk politics around here), but it’s nice to see that someone has at least this vital issue clearly under control. You officially win the race for Presidential Jeans.

* No Newt-in-denim photos could be attained. But if I had to guess, they wouldn’t be pretty.
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Other Posts to Check Out:

Downton Abbey, Explained.

Second Annual Predict America’s Pick Contest!

March 11, 2012March 11, 2012 Rachel Callahan American Idol, Giveaways and Contests

The most fun contest I held last year was Predict America’s Pick.

(At least it was for me, because I got to create a spreadsheet to keep up with the rankings that rose to new levels of complete geekdom.)

So clearly, I want to offer it again.

I almost didn’t make the “deadline”, though, which I completely blame on Downton Abbey – we got hopelessly behind on American Idol due to our extended and obsessive trip to the Abbey.

But once we finished every available episode, we staunchly set our sights on getting caught up on Idol, even though we both pined for Mary, Matthew, and Edith to be the judges and The Dowager Countess to replace Ryan.

(And that’s saying something, since Ryan is on my Top Five Celebrity Crush List.)

On to the contest.

The time has come to choose your rankings. But not without the promise of great prizes, of course. This year, I have $400 worth of prizes!!!

Novica, one of my favorite gift-buying sites in all the world, has kindly agreed to sponsor this year’s contest again! Novica is a fabulous company that partners with National Geographic to help give international artisans access to sell their unique and unbelievably unique creations online. They have handmade jewelry (my favorite – I wear their jewelry all the time!), unique gifts, home décor, furniture, paintings, and much more. Every time I go to their site, I literally get lost in the midst of beautiful things for hours.

Some of my favorite Novica purchases have been this fabulous peridot necklace,

And this gorgeous necklace and earring set.

Novica also just opened a gifts and jewelry home party division, NOVICA Live. It’s a great opportunity to make money and help artisans all around the world through fun parties!

So. There will be two prizes: A Winner’s Prize and a Participation Prize.

The Winner’s Prize, a $300 Gift Certificate to Novica.com, will be awarded to the person that is closest in their predictions to what actually occurs in this season’s American Idol.

The Participation Prize, a $100 Gift Certificate to Novica.com, will go to a randomly selected participant in the contest.

So whether you know anything about American Idol or not, you have a chance to win!

How to enter:

To enter to win the $300 Grand Prize:

I have created an entry form with the top 12 contestant’s names on it. All you have to do is put those contestants in order, from 1-12, of how YOU think they will fare in the contest (1 being the winner, and 12 being the first person eliminated).

(You actually don’t even have to watch single episode of Idol to enter – just guess! You might do better than the rest of us, since America can be a bit unpredictable.)

If you need a handy contestant reference guide, click here.

You only have three days to fill out an entry form – the contest will be closed at the start of the first top 12 performance on Wednesday night, March 14th.

CLICK HERE to go to the entry form.

I will keep up with everyone’s picks and will publish a leaderboard each week after eliminations – there will be a button on my sidebar where you can check the current leaderboard. The person with the most accurate picks after the final show will win the $300 Gift Certificate!!

If there is a tie, the Grand Prize will go to the person with the most eligible participation prize entries (to be explained below). If there is still a tie, one of the tying winners will be selected randomly.

To enter to win the $100 Participation Prize:

You can be entered into the participation prize anytime between now and Wednesday evening by helping get the word out about the contest! You get one entry for each of the following:

Tweet, Facebook, or Blog about the contest.
Follow NOVICA on Facebook or Twitter.
Go to NOVICA.com and see what you would pick if you won.
Follow me on Facebook or Twitter.
Subscribe to or Follow my blog.
Enter to win the Grand Prize (your entry for the grand prize counts as one participation entry as well).

*** To get your entries, be sure to leave a comment on this post for each entry that you earned by doing the above items!!! ***

Also, you get FIVE entries for each person that reports that they found out about the contest from you! (There’s a field on the entry form for them to give you credit.)

The $100 Participation winner will be chosen randomly from all of the Participation Entries, and announced THIS THURSDAY, March 15 on my Giveaway Winners Page. The $300 grand prize winner will be announced after the American Idol Finale in May.

So, Start Entering!! And Good Luck!!

Disclosure: I was not compensated in any way for my nice words about NOVICA – my opinions are always my own, and their site is heavenly.

The Fortnight, in Review.

March 9, 2012March 9, 2012 Rachel Callahan A Day in the Life, Blogging: the therapy., Just My Luck

If I were to have a doctor’s excuse for today, it would go something like this…

“Rachel is unable to attend her blog today due to a sick and needy baby, a persistently virusey computer, an all-consuming car search, a late-working husband, a severe lack of sleep, and PTSS from last weekend’s potential tornado event.”

So. I’m sure you’re just dying for a more in-depth explanation.

No?

Oh. Well move along, nothing to see here.

(Did everybody leave? Okay. I shall now continue.)

Noah has his first ear infection, which was quite a shock, since I am continually taking my kids to the doctor thinking that they have ear infections, only to hear…

“It’s just a virus.”

“It’s just a cold.”

Much like “It’s never Lupus” on House, “It’s never an ear infection” in our family.

…which means there’s never any medication to help, and there’s never a solution to be grasped ahold.

Except for this time. He got the good stuff – as Ali calls it, the “Cold Pink Medicine”.

Speaking of viruses and my hatred of their untreatableness…

I got a new computer back in the fall – a fresh start after a couple of years of being plagued with viruses. It seems to me that once a computer has contracted one, it never fully recovers.

Which is, incidentally, the same effect that drinking spoiled chocolate milk has on me.

(It’s the strangest thing – it somehow develops carbonation. Nothing makes me gag quicker that rotten carbonated chocolate milk.)

Anyway. My new, unspoiled, Virus Virgin of a computer is no longer. It caught a nasty case of Alureon last weekend, and I spent all of Sunday night and Monday afternoon trying my best to rid it, with little help and lots of wasted time provided by the HP Care Contract that I had acquired upon purchase.

(After hours of technical support Sunday night by Mirijawal, all while assuring me that she would completely fix my computer and rid me of any and all viruses, I was informed by Sanjedwahahaha on Monday that virus fixes weren’t covered in my support agreement.)

(Which is all find and dandy and I wouldn’t have been the least bit upset about – if Mirijawal had simply informed me of that Sunday night instead of spending two hours cheerily showing me how to delete my temporary internet files and cookies while I persistently kept veering her back to the task at hand, which was ANNIHILATING ALUREON.)

So I finally did my own Internet research and figured out how to fix it like a big girl.

That’s right. I killed Alureon. And I’m proud of it.

On to more exciting pieces of my boring news – my car search.

I have finally completely and hopelessly fallen in love with the exact transportation vehicle I am going to get, after many, many iterations of test drives and vehicular crushes.

I’ll give you a hint: I’m back to my first love.

All I’m gonna say for now is: It was MADE for the SuperGeek Mommy Blogger.

However, actually finding the exact used one that I want is nearly impossible, since everyone hates them except me.

(Which is a real shame, since they’re AWESOME. You just wait until I tell you about all of it’s superpowers. It rivals minivan superpowers like Dr. Otto Octavius rivals Spidey.)

But besides all of that, the last two weeks have been killer around here, what with Chris’ work being crazy and us staying up too late to get some time together and in general the chaos of life accosting us at every opportunity.

And then there was last week’s Tornado Event. Thankfully, it didn’t hit Alabama too much (although I am quite distressed on behalf of the states it did hit), but we were in the scary red zone, and were warned for days that it was going to be terrible.

The anticipation was worse than usual because we had non-refundable tickets to go see Wicked, which meant that we were sending the kids to spend the night at the grandparent’s.

So here we were, holding expensive pieces of paper, in desperate need of a relaxing date, finding ourselves even more stressed out about the potential weather and being away from our kids during said weather.

(Although Wicked was good.)

(And my parents taught Noah to walk.)

(And we got to meet up with a few amazing bloggers also in attendance, Jamie and Kevin and Amanda.)

(And we discovered this epic sign in the parking deck, which almost made it all worth it.)

I hope that concrete-filled Lowe’s bucket that somebody used to discard their cigarette butt feels like her pageant dreams come true.

Okay. So that was a fascinating brain dump.

No?

Sorry. I should have just stuck with my blogger’s excuse.

Creatively Encouraging Reading and Writing.

March 7, 2012July 14, 2012 Rachel Callahan A Day in the Life, Actually Possibly Informational, Homeschooling: Not just for the socially awkward anymore.

Considering the fact that she was bred from an Accountant and an Engineer, it’s no surprise that Ali prefers math over reading and writing. Although we’ve made some headway in this area, she still just doesn’t enjoy it, and tends to rebuff all of my efforts in her literary education.

This creates Dread and Drudgery for All.

So, to overcome D & D, I’ve had to come up with some covert strategies.

1. Putting the White Crayon to use.

Ali is annoyed by the existence of the white crayon. It won’t show up when she colors with it, so therefore it serves no purpose. If it were up to her, white crayons would be banished from the face of the earth.

So I decided to change her opinions by using them to create one of her favorite things: a mystery.

I wrote her a note with a white crayon, then told her to paint the sheet of paper, promising that there would be a secret message awaiting her.

She was a little skeptical at first, seeing as the Evil Crayon of White was involved.

But she was intrigued (and a little apologetic to the poor disdained crayon) as a message began showing up…

She read the message gleefully, completely unaware that I was tricking her into reading practice.

Then she asked for another, and another.

After a while, she caught onto my evil trickery, so then insisted that she do the note-writing. If you insist…

2. Secret Decoding Sheets.

I recycled this trick from two years ago. At the time, I used it to covertly encourage her to practice letter writing. It works just as well to get her to practice reading.

She watches excitedly as I create the legend, pointing out what shapes I’ve left out in her usual OCD fashion.

I create the secret message, hand her a marker, and she goes to work.

She’s also created her own haphazardly spelled secret message or two, but usually gets distracted before she finishes it, thereby making it extremely secret.

3. Easel School

My Dad made Ali a fabulously crafted easel for Christmas, causing Melissa & Doug to cringe with shame. Ali loves her easel, and begs me for “easel school” assignments.

At first, we did spelling practice, and I would simply call out words for her to spell. But I also like to give her the opportunity to “freeform” spell, sounding out words for herself, whether right or wrong. So I started giving her phrases and poems to write while I was purposefully out of the room and unavailable for spelling consultation.

I then had a rare moment of brilliance, and had her practice writing her Cubbies Bible verses – good for writing practice and for working on memorization.

“Love each other as I hev loved you”
“I am with you oways”
“We ott to love wun unother”

I LOVED it. So much so that I immediately started pondering how we could frame it or mod podge it to canvas or something.

She enjoyed writing her bible verses, so we came up with a plan: what better way to thank Gramamma, who is also her Cubbies leader, than by giving her this as a gift?

Ali worked on a new copy for a week, writing out every verse that she’s learned this year.

Of course she didn’t come up with all of the verses on her own – I would read a verse to her and let her freeform spell it.

We finally finished, and were both quite excited about her masterpiece.

We got a frame from Michael’s (sadly without encountering Michael’s Lady),

and then wrapped and stickered it.

(Ali doesn’t give un-bedazzled gifts.)

Clearly, I got some serious Daughter of the Year votes for that gift, and Ali was unassumingly schooled and bibled – my evil scheming played out perfectly.

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Confessions of a Smockaholic.

March 6, 2012March 5, 2012 Rachel Callahan Guest Post, Smocktastic

The other night, I was hanging out on Facebook when I noticed one of my blog readers, Leslie, engaging in some questionable activity. I began delving into this dark counterculture in which she was immersing herself, and was fascinated at the depth, the popularity, and the entire dialect of the people group that are… Smockaholics.

I called Bradford (our local addiction health service) and asked them how I could best help my friend with her Smock Abuse problem.

“Here’s what you should do…”, they told me.

So I confronted her about her issue. She agreed that she had a problem. We discussed her options. And I recommended that she guest blog about the Smock Auction Underworld – you know, as therapy and accountability.

Hello, my name is Leslie and I am addicted to buying clothes through Facebook auctions.

If it is cute and in limited quantity, I MUST have it!

What? You haven’t heard about this?

Well, let me warn you that you may also become addicted and I cannot be held responsible for your future behavior or your dwindling bank account.

First, let me tell you a little about me. I am the mother of two girls – a 3 year old and a 13 month old. They are really the reason behind my new obsession. I love clothes of the smocked and non-smocked variations. As long as it is cute, I envision it on my girls.

However, I am actually not a huge fan of all things smocked, which is slightly ironic given some of most recent purchases.

Rachel wrote a great post about how different churches seem to have an unwritten rule regarding smocking. We attended a Smock-Optional Church and I think this sums up my personal/daily belief regarding smock. Will I ever send my child to school in smock? Only on picture day and the outfit will stay on a hanger until the picture is about to snapped.

Because there is no way that dirt, snot, and gunk are getting close to that expensive outfit.

How expensive? Anywhere from $60 to over $120. Yes, I have seen this price tag on a toddler outfit and no, I did not buy it. Plus, it wasn’t even smocked. So given these prices, most of my girl’s really nice outfits have come from Nana.

(God bless her insanity to pay those prices.)

So, when I saw online auctions that sold these nice boutique clothes for only $20-40, I was understandably beyond excited.

Let me explain how this works for you newbies. There are Facebook sites that are completely dedicated to selling children’s clothes. A few of them are Smockaholics, Smocktions, Smocked Auctions, and Smockadot. That last one? Over 120,000 people follow it. Clearly, I am not alone in my problem. And yes, there are several auction sites that don’t contain “smock” in the title, but I don’t find those sites quite as fun.

These sites have schedules for which they post preview pictures of the clothes up for auction later that night. I quickly search through all of the pictures. At that point, they don’t post the prices or quantity available in each size. My excitement begins as I see a cute outfit, and then I know that I will need to feed, bathe, and throw the kids in bed quickly since most of the sales begin at 8:00PM.

As I settle on the couch with my laptop in hand, my heart rate starts to climb.

(This can’t be a good sign right?)

Because I am a serious bidder (aka, FacebookAuctionaholic), I have already decided what outfits I want and for which child. I have written my sold statement (“Sold, 3T, crazybidder@yahoo.com, OOT”). The OOT means “Outside of Texas”, or whatever state they are sold from, which keeps me from having to pay unnecessary sales tax.

Then the fun (panic) begins: The constant refreshing of the page. Refreshing a page before it even loads completely is the key. Finally, I see the item/picture of my desire. I quickly paste the information and press enter. I hit refresh again and that pretty outfit that I just bid on 8 seconds ago now has 57 bids! But no time now to count the bids to see if I won (or even check the price of the outfit I just bid on a minute ago) – I must keep refreshing because they usually throw in some surprise items and “steals of the night.” And those may also be “must have” items that I didn’t even know that I needed minutes ago!

At the end of the sale as my heart rate starts to decrease, I start to contemplate how I can log this as exercise in my Lose It app. I mean…it did raise my heart rate for a good 20 minutes, so that has got to count for something, right?

As I begin to crash from all the adrenaline and head toward bed, I experience smock anxiety, since I have to wait until the morning to find out if I won.

(Well, I could wait up until midnight when they release the winners list, but I am not completely crazy!)

I thought I could partake in my addiction behind closed doors, but I forgot Facebook’s new feature where they randomly post my conversations with others on my friend’s news feed.

Gulp!

Yep, I am being called out left and right by my friends about my shopping habits.

You are probably wondering what my husband is saying about all this shopping. Well, lucky for me, I handle all the finances, so he doesn’t see the statements or all of the packages. Plus, I just explain to him how much I saved by buying it here than one of those expensive places.

It’s a bargain!

But my three year old almost sold me out other weekend. When we pulled up at the house, she exclaimed, “Oh no! Mommy, there are no packages.”

Double gulp!

Maybe I need to start a new Facebook account called MyGirlsClosets (or something that nobody knows). This way I can indulge in my addiction without a lurker or needed intervention.

By the way, did I mention that I’m a Psychologist?

Ironic, no?

Feel free to come bid with me nightly on Facebook – just don’t try to bid on the same outfits.

The Missing Steps.

March 5, 2012March 5, 2012 Rachel Callahan Just My Luck, Parent of the Year, Toddlers: The Experience

We all have weak areas in our parenting. Or is that just me?

One of mine and Chris’ weaknesses is regarding the passing on of the skill of walking.

We’re not exactly risk-takers. We avoid pain, discomfort, and inconvenience more vigorously than Lady Gaga avoids modesty and inconspicuousness.

And our children can sense this. And they translate it as fear.

When we talk, they hear things like,

“Come on – you can walk!! Try it! but don’t really because you’ll fall and bust your head and bleed all over yourself.”

And so, our punishment for our low-risk outlook, aside from making about 20 cents of interest in our bank accounts every year, is that we have seen both of our children’s first steps, but only on video.

Four years ago, I got nastily sick for a couple of days. Ali went to stay with my parents, and my Dad had a talk with her…because she was sixteen months old and refused to even stand without holding onto something, and he was determined to free her from her genetic predisposition to fear the unknown.

So. The talk.

“Ali, you’re a big girl. You need to be walking. Your best friend AJ walks, and you need to walk.”

She got an angry look on her face – after all, no one likes coming face to face with logic – and then walked across the room, completely unassisted.

By the time I was well enough to resume my responsibilities of motherhood, I had not only missed her first steps, but her first hundred or so steps – she was practically running when she came home.

(Granted, when you wait until you’re sixteen months old to walk, the whole ramp-up thing is nonexistent.)

Four years later, we have another cautious, OCD child. Fourteen months old, and Noah refuses to walk.

Just this week, he finally started showing off and standing unassisted, all with an overishly proud (and a little scared) look on his face. I always cheer loudly, and so he quickly learned to use this oh-so-impressive standing ability to get my approval.

Example.

He just had two teeth cut through, which are apparently making his gums quite uncomfortable. In an attempt to treat his own ailment, he crawled over to my chair, pulled up, and bit my leg like it was a fabulously juicy turkey thigh.

Shocked, I looked at him in dismay and lectured him on the evils of biting one’s mother.

He looked down in shame. Then looked up, with a bright lightbulb hovering above his head. He let go of the chair, standing without aid, and looked expectantly for my approval. Which I gave, and all was right in the world again – except for the teeth marks on my leg.

Anyway, so walking. His standing only lasted for a couple of seconds at a time, so steps were completely out of the question – he wouldn’t even consider such a thing.

Until he went to my parent’s to spend the night.

(I bet you can guess what happens here…)

My Mom had a talk with him.

“You just need to walk! Ali walks, and you need to walk!! You can do it!”

And…the kid started walking.

Clearly, my parents are child-training geniuses. So I’ve already put my request in for their next visit: Wipe-Your-Own-Butt Boot Camp.

Celtic Woman Giveaway – Signed Copies!

March 2, 2012March 1, 2012 Rachel Callahan Giveaways and Contests

I always get a tiny thrill when I’m flipping channels and catch a glimpse of the beaming faces of Celtic Woman. Since I have a fondness for all things Celtic from the music to the knotwork, they naturally make me happy.

Their new album, Believe, is an enchanting mixture of Irish songs, classics, and modern popular music, all remixed in their signature sound. It has moments of great joy, of reflection, and of inspiration – I love the emotional journey that their music creates.

They were in Birmingham on tour a couple of weeks ago, and my friend Jennifer was fortunate enough to be able to attend. I asked her to tell me about the concert, and I have to say, I’m now a bit jealous.

Here’s her review…

A couple of weeks ago, my sweet husband took me to the Celtic Woman concert for my Valentine’s Day gift. I’ve seen them numerous times on television, and have always wanted to see them live. Oddly enough though, I was a little nervous about finally getting the chance. I think I was afraid that after wanting it for so long, the experience might not live up to my expectations.

It turns out I was worried for nothing. Not only did it meet my expectations, it blew them away! It wasn’t just a concert, it was a complete immersion into the culture of Ireland. Not just the songs, but also the instruments (fiddle – by the absolutely amazing Mairead, Irish flute, bodhran, bagpipes), the Irish dancer, Craig Ashurst (who was completely thrilling to watch), the way they spoke to the audience and drew us into what makes Ireland – and Celtic Woman – so charming, so beautiful, and in a way, so mysterious.

I don’t have to tell most of you their voices are angelic. I want to be a Celtic Woman so I can sing like that. My 2 favorite songs of the night had to be “Ave Maria”, sung by Chloe Agnew, and a very traditional Irish song called “Teir Abhaile Riu” – sung by all 3 of the ladies. They even taught the audience the chorus to a traditional Scottish drinking song, called “Green Grow the Rushes-O”, and had us sing along with them, which I thought was quite fun. The concert ended with a very rousing jig played by the instrumentalists, and had us walking out of the concert hall with a definite bounce in our step.

It was a wonderful concert, and just when we thought it was over, we were met with the bagpiper in the lobby, playing for us all as we exited. I hope I am able to see them again the next time they come in town. You should plan on it, too.

(Jennifer can be found blogging here.)

I have a signed copy of Celtic Woman’s Believe CD AND a signed copy of their Believe DVD that I’m going to give away to two lucky people!

If you’d like to enter, simply leave a comment on this post! You can earn up to four additional entries by:

Follow Celtic Woman on Facebook or Twitter.
Tweet, blog, or Facebook about this giveaway.
Follow me on Twitter or Facebook.
Follow or subscribe to my blog.

(be sure to leave separate comments for your extra entries.)

This giveaway is open until Monday, March 12th. The winner will be randomly selected and posted on my giveaway winners page on Tuesday, March 13th.

Good luck!!

Disclaimer: I was given a copy of the CD and DVD for review purposes, but was not compensated in any way to write this post. My opinions are always my own.

Excuses, Excuses.

March 1, 2012March 1, 2012 Rachel Callahan A Day in the Life, Awkwardly Intense Busybody Club, Homeschooling: Not just for the socially awkward anymore.

I was right. Ali’s new hair clearly makes her look older.

So much older, in fact, that we had a first on Tuesday.

Being that I remember it well from my own upbringing, I am positive that it was merely a foreshadowing of what the rest of my kid’s homeschooled life is going to consist of, however long that may be.

I drove up to the bank teller…

“Hi! Welcome to Regions!”

“Thank you!”

The teller craned her neck to gawk my backseat.

“Oh MY! We have a full car today, don’t we?”

I look in the backseat at my two children. Apparently she’s never telled for the Duggar’s. Or Vitafam.

“Yes, I have kids.”

She gets a worried, grandmotherly look.

“I hope everyone’s all right!”

“Um, what?”

“Well, you know, are they sick?”

“Nope, we’re all well.”

“Oh. Well, why aren’t they in school today?”

I paused, wondering if I should address each child individually, or just assume that she surely meant only Ali.

“Well, Doogie Howser in the car seat just finished his med school midterms earlier today. And the five year old, well, she’s more of the Ferris Bueller type, if you know what I mean.”

I decided to go with the “easy” answer.

I smiled sweetly and said, “We homeschool.”

She looked shocked, then tried to cover it up with an overly syrupy smile.

“Oh! How… nice!”

…and then quickly repasted on her overcompensatory fake smile.

As I drove away, I saw her frantically reaching under the counter for the Emergency Truancy Officer Button, as she wrote down my car tag and looked up my address, phone number, and social security number from my bank account.

She probably put a freeze on all of my accounts also, if her expressions were any indication of her opinion on my schooling choices.

Because I’m clearly a Radicalist.

So I need some new responses, because I have a feeling that she was simply the first pebble of the upcoming landslide, especially given my history with the Awkwardly Intense Busybody Club.

Maybe,

“What, these? These aren’t children! They’re just pale Oompa Loompas. They do all of my baking and cleaning and disposing of nosy people by turning them into blueberries for me. I highly recommend purchasing a few!”

Or perhaps,

“Much like Miss Texas, my kids are self-described over achievers. They both graduated last year! Ali starts college and is majoring in Counseling in the fall – perhaps you should go visit her to talk about your issue with busybodiness?”

Of course, being Southern and all, I can’t pull off cruel. So perhaps something simpler, like…

“Oh, Ali’s been diagnosed with a rare case of an extremely infectious disease. You know, the new one that everyone is freaking out about? I think it bursts all of the capillaries in your skin and makes you vomit the contents of your intestines if you don’t get treated right away. Anyway, we’re on our way to the CDC now for a total quarantine of our entire family for about 45 days. Oh! Excuse me! I think I might have just spit a little on you while I was talking!”

Yup, that one might work.

Any better explanations out there?

The Young and the Hungry.

February 28, 2012February 28, 2012 Rachel Callahan Guest Post, NoahBlogs, Utter Silliness

Hi! Noah here.

So. Since I last blogged, everyone has been all over my case about eating healthy. You know, organic and well-balanced and stuff.

Personally, I find this fairly offensive.

I mean, if you can’t live without food guilt when you can count your age on one finger, when can you enjoy your life?

And anyway, it’s not like I’m not trying. I make significant efforts to help increase the fiber in my diet on a daily basis.

(Toys are a form of fiber, right?)

But alas. The onslaught goes on. One thing I’ve been seeing come up a lot when I peek at The Servant Who Calls Herself Mommy’s Facebook feed is the horrors of breakfast cereal.

So what if breakfast cereals have more sugar than a Twinkie – even the supposedly barfably bland ones like Special K??

Whatever.

All I can think about when I hear the word cereal is … TAS–TY.

But alas – the pressure got to me, so I traded in my favorite beverage to enjoy with cereal…

For a more healthy alternative.

Yes. Coke Zero and Corn Pops – it goes together like Peas and Carrots – only healthier!!

And anyway, I LOVE THIS STUFF!!!

What? It’s good for you. Duh.

What’s that you said?? It’s going to rot my five teeth and poison my tiny liver???

Oh.

Well…

I guess I need to resort to more drastic health measures. I’ll demand a better alternative from The Servants and see what I get.

Whoa. You want me to eat …. what??

Okay. Okay. It’s for my longevity and the opportunity to have nice looking man calves one day. I can do this.

OhMyGoshOhMyGoshI’mGonnaDie.

Maybe they won’t notice if I spit it out, set it back down, and spread it out…

OKAY already. I’ll try it one more time…

No. The puky feeling is still there.

Come on back out, little broccoli…

What?? I have to try it … again???

Fine. I’m divorcing you servants as soon as I can legally do so anyway.

Watch me as I eat this bite with every bit of sarcasm and revulsion possible pouring out of my eyes…

I just want you to know that you people are cruel.

Waitta minute… that bite wasn’t half bad!!

Let’s try another just to make sure you’re not playing some sort of cruel joke on me…

What the…. ??? That one was good too!! WHAT IS HAPPENING TO ME!?!?!

MORE!!

NOW!!!

OR ELSE !!!

What?? A kid’s allowed to change his mind, isn’t he?

And anyway, broccoli shrapnel gives me a nice, manly beard. Clearly, it’s a win-win.

Indefatigable.

February 27, 2012February 26, 2012 Rachel Callahan A Day in the Life, Just My Luck, Weird Strange and True

I learned that word from the Academy Awards last night. From an acceptance speech, no less.

Clearly, I had to look it up immediately.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

in·de·fat·i·ga·ble [in-di-fat-i-guh-buhl] ; adjective

incapable of being tired out; not yielding to fatigue; untiring.

Synonyms: tireless, inexhaustible, persevering.

Origin: 1580–90; < Latin indēfatīgābilis untiring, equivalent to in- in-3 + dēfatīgā ( re ) to tire out ( see de-, fatigue) + -bilis -ble Related forms in·de·fat·i·ga·bil·i·ty, in·de·fat·i·ga·ble·ness, noun in·de·fat·i·ga·bly, adverb

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was so proud of myself for actually listening to an acceptance speech long enough to learn a new word (without tuning out and thinking about why I was sitting there in my pajamas when I should be clearly wearing a sequined dress) that I immediately began strategizing on how I was going to fit it into a blog post this week.

And then I realized that it should totally be the title of today’s post.

Because it is all about some indefatigability.

Without further ado, I bring you an illustration of the epitome of indefatigableness.

A phone number had been plaguing my caller ID for weeks – at least three times a day, never leaving a message. I didn’t recognize the area code, so I didn’t answer it.

Finally, I got paranoid that it could possibly be important, so I juggled Noah over to my other arm and picked up the call, all while trying to fill his sippy cup and create Ali’s lunch.

Never get paranoid, people. It’s just not worth it.

She spoke with a chipper urgency and hurriedness that immediately indicted her of obnoxiousness.

“Hello, my name is Annoying and I am with Scarborough Research. I would like to ask you about your opinions on radio listening, newspaper reading, and TV watching. Blah diddy blah diddy blah diddy blah diddy. But before I do that, I need to see if you qualify to take our survey! So can you tell me if you or anyone in your household works for a television, radio, newspaper, or other media company?”

I can’t hang up on people – I just can’t. So I waited until I could finally get a word in, which was approximately 2.75 days later, and in my polite southernness, I replied, “I don’t have time to take your survey right now, and we’re on the Do Not Call list.”

“Oh! Well, actually since we’re not selling anything and are simply doing consumer research, we’re not bound by the Do Not Call List. So I need to ask you about your opinions on radio listening, newspaper reading, and TV watching. But before I do that, I need to see if you qualify to take our survey! So can you tell me if you or anyone in your household works for a television, radio, newspaper, or media company?”

“Just because you’re not bound by the Do Not Call List doesn’t mean I all of a sudden have time to take your survey.”

“If you could just take a few minutes to tell me about your opinions on radio listening, newspaper reading, and TV watching, it would be very valuable to us! But first, I need to see if you qualify to take our survey! So can you tell me if you or anyone in your household works for a television, radio, newspaper, or media company?”

My southern niceness had worn it’s course.

“I don’t have time to take your survey. Goodbye.”

As I reached across Noah for the hang up button, I heard… “But it will just take a minute!! But first, I need to ask if….”

click.

For the remainder of the day, I marveled at the answer that she must have expected from me after explaining that she wasn’t bound to the Do Not Call List.

Something along the lines of,

“Oh! Well great!! If you’re legally allowed to call me and there’s no way I can prevent it, then by all means! I just fabricated 46 minutes out of thin air, and I would LOVE to answer your survey about my radio listening, newspaper reading, and TV watching!! Oh boy oh boy I just can’t wait!!”

Focusing on this ridiculosity really helped quell my guilt over the fact that I ultimately hung up on her.

But then.

A week later, I received this in the mail:

“We will try calling again.”

I immediately felt both lost and in captivity all at once.

A sense of hopelessness pervaded my soul.

There didn’t seem to be a solution or a way out in sight.

Is there no justice in the world? Can I not somehow communicate my complete disinterest in being a researched household??

Please, oh please! If there is any mercy and compassion within your soul, tell me how to make them stop!!!