Rachel Callahan

Live Blogging From Rachel’s Stupid Moment of the Day!

December 19, 2009 Rachel Callahan Just My Luck, Parent of the Year, Toddlers: The Experience

We got home late for naptime, so I was hurrying to get Ali in bed, and telling her that she needed to go straight to sleep since naptime was so late.

Also, I had to change her shirt, because she was wearing (in her words,) her “Blinkedy Christmas shirt.”

Rudolph, the Red Nosed Reindeer

Had a very blinkedy nose,

Would never let poor Ali,

Get in any naptime doze.

Sorry for that. It just came out. That’s the kind of stuff you get from live blogging.

Anyway, I was rooting around in her jammy drawer for a loose jammy shirt, and found a hand-me-down crushed velvet nightgown – something she’s never worn before.

It had princesses on it.

Three princesses.

Jasmine, Snow White, and Cinderella.

(Speaking of Princesses, be sure to check out my friend Christen’s HILARIOUS diary of babysitting Ali – Things You Learn from Babysitting a Princess.)

Back to the story.

She was beyond elated. She wanted to run and show Daddy. She begged me to let her wear it after she woke up, too. We talked about the princesses. I tried to hurry her to bed. I reminded her yet again – no talking, not even to the princesses. Straight night-night.

I came downstairs, and a friend called. As we were talking, I heard Ali on the baby monitor chanting something, quite repetitively.

Nice. So as I’m talking on the phone, I’m slightly irritated that she’s disobeying me and talking, and figuring that I need to go up there as soon as I get off the phone and tell her that I said NO talking.

I get off the phone and stop for a second to listen to what she’s chanting in her emotionless, monotone, repetitive voice:

“I don’t have a diaper on. I don’t have a diaper on. I don’t have a diaper on. I don’t have a diaper on.”

I die. Laughing, of course.

I had completely undressed her and had gotten a pull-up out (still used at naptimes around here), but her excitement about the nightgown totally made me forget to actually place said pull-up on her backside.

Thanks to Ali’s good conscience, it didn’t end nearly as crappily as it could have.

Hi. My name is Rachel, and I put my two year old to bed with a bare butt.

United Mommy’s Union

December 18, 2009July 7, 2011 Rachel Callahan Parent of the Year, The Unions of Family, Toddlers: The Experience, Utter Silliness

United Mommy’s Union (UMU)

New Policies and Announcements

December 2009

Dear UMU Members,

Merry Christmas!

I understand that at this point, mere days before Christmas, you may not be feeling exactly in the Christmas spirit.

Shopping, wrapping, parties, presents, feed-the-whole-family-Christmas-dinner planning, card-making, label-making, crafts with the kids, school functions, kids-are-out-of-school-so-you-can’t-get-as-much-as-usual-done, baking, decorating….it’s enough to substantiate a full out picketing strike.

Our sympathies are with you, as are our wishes for a holiday peace to come upon you.

Because we know exactly how hard you work during this crazy season, we are currently in talks with the United Toddler’s Union (UTU) to allow for a daily 30 minute Starbucks break for all UMU members.

Unfortunately, the UTU council pooped in their diapers at the mere suggestion.

However, we will continue our efforts in making headway in this revised benefits package.

We are also in talks with the United Daddy’s Union (UDU) to lock in arrival-home-from-work times.

Because we all know that the final 30 minutes before Daddy gets home lasts at least ten eternities, and if there is an extra 15 minutes tacked onto the end, then 1 Corinthians 10:13 about not being tempted beyond what we can bear becomes automatically null and void.

Luckily, the UDU is more open to our requests than the UTU. We will keep you posted.

In other news, we have recently been made aware that the UTU is using some very fierce battle techniques.

One of them is Sweetheart Mode. All UTU members have been installed with a sensor where they know when they have pushed their luck right up to the edge of the precipice.

When this sensor goes off, they immediately downshift into sweetheart mode, giving out unrequested hugs and kisses and showering you with “I LOOOOVE You Mommy!!”.

Another tactic being used by some younger toddlers (without their full reasoning abilities installed) is, “I’m so HAPPPPPY, Mommy!!!”

Do not be fooled. However, we recommend that you receive and enjoy the hugs. They’re toddlers, people – ya gotta get them when you can.

Secondly, they are using Boomerang Mode, which involves using our own ammunition against us. At the first sign of frustration from a member of the UMU, they will repeat their very same verbage back to them.

“Can you find your happy heart, Mommy?”

“We don’t argue, Mommy.”

“We don’t say no, Mommy.”

“Please don’t argue with me, Mommy.”

Best of luck in not laughing while correcting them. But hey – if it helps cheer you up, it can’t be too bad.

At any rate, by all means take your Starbucks break with or without the UTU’s approval (but don’t tell them we said so), slow down and enjoy the holidays!

Sincerely,

The United Mommy’s Union

We Must, We Must, We Must Increase Our Bust.

December 17, 2009 Rachel Callahan Parent of the Year, Toddlers: The Experience

As I’ve mentioned a few times before, Ali is very curious about my chest, insisting that I absolutely must have babies in there. If I deny the presence of babies, then I am barraged with question after question of wanting very much to know what exactly they are.

I change the subject, I ignore, I stall…

But finally, I couldn’t delay her questions any longer.

One can only withstand being jabbed and asked, “But Mommy, what are they CALLED???” for so long, you know.

Since I adhere to the “vague” theory of Toddler Anatomy Terminology, I finally decided that the word we would use would be “chest”.

She has taken this new knowledge and run with it, and we have been talking about the chest even more than we talk about poo poo.

(I can’t deny that the subject change is actually a nice relief.)

Her questions are inquisitive, nosy, and analytical…

“Why do you have BUMPY chest?”

“I have a flat chest. When will I have a bumpy chest?”

“Why does Daddy have a flat chest?”

I have explained thoroughly that Mommies have bumpy chests and Daddies have flat chests.

“I don’t want to be a Daddy, then.”

“Don’t worry – you’re a girl. Girls grow up to be Mommies.”

“Oh. When I grow up, I’m going to be a Mommy and have a bumpy chest.”

…which got us off on a whole new tangent…

“If you’re a Mommy and have a little girl, what are you going to name her?”

“Tessa.”

(Obvious choice, seeing as how her cousin AND her best friend’s sister are both Tessas.)

“And then I’ll name one Sophie.”

(Not so obvious choice, seeing as how her Great-Grandmother’s Dog is named Sophie. The very same dog that bit her last year, for which Ali still hasn’t forgiven her. But, in Ali’s defense, she has a second cousin named Sophie, too.)

“What will you name your little boy if you have one?”

“Benjamin”

(The name of the boy she currently claims she is going to marry. I guess if her little scheme works out, her son will be Benjamin Junior.)

(But if it doesn’t work out, she’s going to have some explaining to do to her husband as to why she wants to name her son after her toddler crush.)

After her naptime, the questions start right back up.

She looks down, rubs her chest, and says, “It’s not bumpy yet!!”

“No, baby, it’s not. It will be a while.”

“Is AJ’s chest bumpy yet?”

“No, hers isn’t bumpy yet either.”

“What about Abby’s?”

“Nope, she’s still got a flat chest too.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Nothing like a good boob obsession to start at the age of 2.

Maternal Proof.

December 16, 2009 Rachel Callahan Wordless Wednesday - as IF I could be wordless.

For all the people out there that keep saying, “She looks JUST like her Father!!!”:

We pout alike.
We share the same profile:
And have the same liberal use of tonguage in facial expression:

Luckily for her, she didn’t get those thighs of mine.

Killer Rabbits: Not Just in Monty Python.

December 15, 2009May 17, 2012 Rachel Callahan Just My Luck, Storytime

I love rabbits. I always have. I had several as pets growing up, and thought that they were just wonderfully delightful creatures.

We also have wild rabbits in our neighborhood. We can especially see them when driving home at midnight from Small Group – Ali and I always watch for them. They’re just beautiful, innocent, delightful creatures.

Except for one.

The Rabbit From Hell.

(He might have been related to Satan the Squirrel. Why do all of the evil animals find me?)

I didn’t even remember his real name, despite the fact that he lived with us for years, until I found a picture of him where my Mom had labeled it: Frolic.

Frolic was pretty much the antithesis of his existence. So we’ll just refer to him as I remember him: RFH.

It all started on Christmas day sometime in the very early 90’s. My little brother was very young (maybe 5 years old or so), and one of my Dad’s sisters and husband had quite the evil sense of humor. They apparently had been given or had somehow obtained this particular Rabbit From The Underworld, and decided to re-gift it to my little brother.

Because my parents couldn’t say no to a 5 year old that had just been given a pet, I suppose.

(I’m assuming that due to some earlier practical joke incident, my parents completely deserved this nasty treatment, but I’ve never been told the background.)

(Although now that I think about it, I DO remember a port-o-potty shaking and knocking over incident executed by my Dad to this Uncle. Could be related?)

Anyway, he wasn’t a fluffy, lop-eared, pretty rabbit – he was one of those Evil-looking, red-eyed Albino Rabbits:

That’s him, smooshing my favorite baby bunny ever, Jasmine. We were introducing the two because we hoped to create more baby bunnies in a few months. However, soon after, we realized that Jasmine was not actually a girl, so that plan probably wouldn’t work out too well.

Lucky Jasmine. I think he might have willed himself to be a boy after meeting RFH.

Back to the story. It soon became apparent that RFH did NOT appreciate human company, and since my little brother was way too young to learn how to avoid his nastiness, I became the caretaker.

(Probably because I was the Middle Child.)

We set him up a cage in the back of the yard, as far away from human contact as possible – the way he liked it.

I fed him daily. It was a risky job – get the food in and the hand out as quickly as possible to avoid getting bitten or sprayed with rabbit pee (why do all animals feel that their pee is a weapon against me?!). Every now and then he would get the best of me, but I was able to get away quickly enough to minimize the damage.

But, one day, the inevitable happened. RFH won. He was quick enough to snap at my left index finger, very near the knuckle, and bit through.

It wasn’t down the middle or anything – it was on the side, but nonetheless, his teeth went through my finger, and I was stuck – I couldn’t pull away.

And, in that moment, RFH decided to pretend that he was a snapping turtle, and didn’t let go.

I’m pretty sure that I was his captive for around 30 seconds, but when you’re being eaten by an Albino Rabbit one digit at a time, it feels more like centuries of agony.

My Dad heard the screaming and ran outside. RFH finally let go, as he saw his fate flash before his eyes.

I quickly retreated into the house, trying to control the bleeding and keep my finger from letting go of my hand.

I saw through the window as my Dad “gently” put RFH into a cardboard box and drove off with him. I never discovered his exact fate, but I do hope that someone who enjoys rabbit stew was able to make a good home for him.

My index finger was never the same. For years, I had a huge knot of scar tissue, and although it has shrunk quite a bit, I still have the toughened scar on my index finger to prove the carnage that RFH brought to our home.

But, RFH didn’t make me hate all rabbits. As I said, I still love them. As long as they’re not fat, angry looking albino rabbits with exceptionally strong jaws.

Red Mountain Music Winners!!!

December 15, 2009 Rachel Callahan Giveaways and Contests

The Red Mountain Music Prize Pack Winners are:

Heather Woosley
This is The Day
Trina of xoxo, Trina
Gina of Blessed Lane
Jennifer of Dust Bunny Hostage

Congratulations and Merry Christmas!!!! Email me at rachel@graspingforobjectivity.com with your address, and I’ll get your CDs out to you!

And again – for everyone in the Birmingham area (or if you’ve ever just wanted to visit Birmingham), don’t miss the Red Mountain Christmas Concert next Monday, December 21st at Workplay! I promise that you won’t regret it! It is the most cozy, Christmasy thing that we attend all season!

See you there!

18 Things I Learned From a Broken Nose.

December 14, 2009 Rachel Callahan Just My Luck, Utter Silliness

It’s been a full six weeks since I broke my nose, so I am supposedly fully recovered.

(I was supposed to get my nose re-x-rayed to make sure that it healed correctly, but seeing as how, due to quite the number of family ailments, we’ve paid more co-pays in the past six weeks than my husband has bought songs from iTunes (and that’s saying something), I haven’t been back yet.)

So anyway, let’s assume that I’m all better. And with that, here are the list of 18 things I learned from having a broken nose.

Your nose will itch more often when it is broken. You will forget that it is broken and scratch it. It will pop somewhat akin to the sound of tearing a drumstick off of a raw chicken.
Which may create an aversion to working with raw chicken.
I never knew how much my cat rubbed heavily against my nose until it was broken. Which may explain some of my allergies.
Bertie the Bus, although a good friend to Thomas the Train, is not a good friend to a broken nose when driven down the bridge of it. It is best to remember that you have a broken nose before allowing yourself to be used as a race course.
Except for the above incident, Ali thankfully has her Daddy’s memory and thoughtfulness. My nose has been kissed and prayed for nearly continuously for the past six weeks.
Her concern for me has led her to have a paranoid fascination about body parts breaking. My toddler now tries to break her leg regularly by stomping the ground or kicking the table. I guess I made it look like a thrilling experience.
A nasal sleeping cast would be very helpful. Especially for those of us who sleep on their stomachs.
My right eyebrow is directly connected to my nasal passages. Plucking my right eyebrow can lead to stopped up nasal passages. Which creates pressure. Which creates pain.
I don’t look too shabby with a normal left eyebrow and a bushy Greek right eyebrow.
Just kidding. That would look horrible.
It would be like reliving my awkward Junior High Days with half my face.
Bronchitis that lasts for three weeks can really be a bummer when paired with a broken nose.
People tend to look very closely at your nose when you blog that it is broken. As if staring at it is going to make it instantaneously grow a bump, or take a turn for the left, or swell to twice its size.
If it did swell to twice its size, I could let my eyebrows bushify – because then I’d have the big Greek nose to accompany them.
If I did that, I would get attention for a whole new celebrity similarity to add to my list:
Even after six weeks, it can cause great discomfort when you find yourself accidentally yet heartily head-butted in the nose by a toddler.
In fact, it may feel like it was re-broken, and you may spend the rest of the night wiggling your nose, trying to figure out if it came loose.
The impact and subsequent wiggling, however, will remind you to finish writing a blog post about all of the things you learned from a broken nose.

My Shark-Like Cleaning Abilities..and a Giveaway worth $99!

December 12, 2009 Rachel Callahan Giveaways and Contests, New York Ninja Trip

On Thanksgiving day, I found myself taking a small break between cleaning my entire house and both sides of our family arriving for dinner. As I sat on the couch with my feet up, I realized that I had just used THREE Shark cleaning products, all in one day, to prepare my house for the crowd that would be arriving soon.

When I went to New York this fall for the Ninja release, they also sent me home with a wonderful array of Shark Cleaning products to try out. I was excited, but I figured that I already had a house full of cleaning products, so I wasn’t sure if I would use them all or not.

It was on Thanksgiving day that I realized that these products had most definitely entered my world, and had made it much easier to prepare for my guests.

The Shark Steam Mop has completely replaced my Swiffer Wet Jet, along with my frustration with it.

I love Steam Mop because it uses no chemicals yet cleans and sanitizes, is completely safe for my hardwoods, actually CLEANS my tile (something I was starting to think was impossible), and has a long enough cord to clean my entire downstairs without having to change wall outlets.

Plus, it makes really cool steamy noises.

The Cordless StickVac has greatly improved the cleanliness of my floors because it is so quick and easy, resulting in me actually USING it, as opposed to my old, heavy, corded vacuum.

This is the lightest yet suctioniest vacuum I have ever used. I love it! I don’t have to plug it in, it takes up hardly any room in my pantry, and I can whip it out to clean up a toddler’s huge mess (I may or may not have vacuumed Radford himself that day) or quickly get the needles up from the Christmas tree.

And the Multivac is an awesome convertible tool that I typically keep in it’s handheld mode and use to continuously to vacuum up the mounds of fur that Oreo leaves behind on our furniture. Although this vacuum isn’t quite as simple as the StickVac, it’s transformer-like abilities are pretty cool. It can be a hand vac, a canister vac, or an upright vac. The suction power is awesome – it really does actually get Oreo’s hair to turn loose of our furniture, something that has always taken a TON of human effort (or, as my parents call it, “elbow grease”) in the past.

(AND it’s a whole lot cheaper than that other brand of vacuum that “Never Loses Suction” – a much smarter decision!!)

So I’ve been playing with those products and LOVING them, but I saved one product to give away to you – The Portable Steamer, worth $99!!

Perhaps one of the most versatile products that Shark makes, this thing is really cool – without using any chemicals at all, it can deep clean AND sanitize your kitchen, glass surfaces, countertops, toddlers (okay, maybe not safe for use ON toddlers), and can even be used to steam your clothes!

I love Shark’s determination to revolutionize cleaning to remove all of the harmful chemicals that we have in our homes. From allergies to potential toddler hazards, we all know that they aren’t the greatest thing to have around. But with the Shark products, you really can clean – without using a single chemical!

It’s hard to believe, but it definitely works.

Would you like to try it for yourself?

To enter to win the Portable Steamer, simply leave a comment below.

You can earn up to four extra entries by:

Follow Shark Cleaning on Facebook or Twitter
Subscribe to OR Follow my blog
Follow me on Twitter OR my new fan page on Facebook
Tweet, blog, OR Facebook about the giveaway

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

Best of luck! This giveaway is open until Monday, December 28th. The winner will be selected randomly and announced on Tuesday, December 29th. Open to U.S. addresses only.

Disclosure: I was not paid to write this post. I was given the cleaning products listed above to review, but my opinions are completely my own.

Lying Over Spilled Milk.

December 11, 2009 Rachel Callahan Toddlers: The Experience

Teaching a toddler what lying is has proven harder than I originally thought. Ali is either a) really slow to understand the concept, or b) really smart and pretending she doesn’t understand the concept.

At any rate, I’m hoping that we either a) made headway, or b) I blew her cover of plausible deniability with this exchange earlier this week:

I was sitting in another room, and Ali came up behind me.

Ali: “Hey Mommy, I’m happy. Can you clean that up?”

I turn around and look, and she’s holding her cup of milk.

Behind her, I see this:

Me: “Did you spill your milk?”

Ali: “No. I’m happy.”

Me: “Then what is that on the floor?”

Ali: “It’s nothing.”

Me: “Is it your milk?”

Ali: “It’s not.”

Me: “Did you spill it?”

Ali: “No.”

Me: “Then who spilled it?”

Ali: “Somebody.”

Me: “Baby, you’re lying to Mommy. You won’t get in trouble for accidents, but you WILL get in trouble for lying. Lying is telling Mommy something that is not true. When you tell Mommy it’s not milk when it is, you’re lying, and lying isn’t wise.”

Ali: (sigh) “It IS milk.”

Me: “Did you spill it?”

Ali: “Yes.”

Me: “What do you say?”

Ali: “I’m sorry.”

Me: “I forgive you. But next time you need to not lie, or you will be in trouble.”

Ali: “Okay. I’m happy! Look at the castle in my milk!”

I’m not sure if we made any headway or not, but at least we were able to visualize the lies.

Along with a Milk Castle.

Recent Random Weirdness

December 10, 2009 Rachel Callahan I would NEVER take too many pictures. . ., Quirky quirky quirkiness, Weird Strange and True

Have you ever looked closely at food advertisements? They aren’t nearly as appetizing as they are when you DON’T look at them.

For instance, I have never had coffee that would just sit gelatinously up above the cup:If you take a minute and pretend it’s cold, it actually looks pretty yummy – Starbucks pudding. Hmm…cross-branding opportunity?

For those of you whose kids are begging for Rock Band or Dance Dance Revolution, and you’re weary of the music, I spotted this at Lifeway:Yes, you CAN be in your own virtual Christian Rock Band now!

So saddle up your horses….and go west young man!!

Oh wait – that’d be the Christian Oldies Version.

Now I used to drive a Honda Civic, and loved it. In fact, I’ve had four different Honda Civics. So I think I have the right to say that it’s not really a car that depicts what this tag is trying to portray:

Yes, Sir. I am feeling your intimidating and overbearing authority as you drive along in your baby blue compact car.

Maybe this isn’t weird to you, and maybe it’s not even odd, but I have personally never seen garbage picked up with a forklift.Apparently, Mountain Brook is getting too uppity to have their garbage men actually pick up the trash cans and dump them like regular folk.

Have you ever wanted a vehicle with wheels AND with a view? Now they have them. We spotted this in Atlanta:

I have a feeling that there are a LOT of those on race weekends in Talladega.

We went to Copeland’s while in Atlanta, one of our formerly-in-Birmingham-but-closed-because-of-our-curse restaurants, and I was pleasantly surprised to see that they still serve their always giggle inducing vegetable special:Yummo.

I love that they went to the trouble to copyright the name. As if there were restaurants lining up to liken their food to a bodily function.

Speaking of, I love that this is called “Holiday INSPIRATIONS”:

…because I’m always so very inspired with holiday spirit when there’s a toy bear or penguin pooping candy at me.

And finally, Ali has learned a new trick – she can move her eyes independently of each other (something that is apparently genetic, as her Daddy can, also).

A trick which has now been banned, because I got paranoid of what she was doing to her eyes.

Weird kid.