Tag Archives: I Don’t Pick Up Poo

I Love Daddy…But I Love Mommy More

This was the very first outfit Scout received. My friend gave it to us. My friend. And what does it say?

I love Daddy.



The only reason I dressed her in it is because I felt guilty that Kiefer had to change a particularly nasty diaper.

Then I realized that I pushed her out. I’m the one with stitches down under. All he did was change a really nasty dirty diaper.

That’s when I added the flower…which he hates.

I win.

Are You Crapping Me?

Captain’s Log, Star Date December 12, 2013.

It’s been 13 days since Kiefer left for his business trip. He should return today.

But…if he doesn’t…I don’t know…how much longer I’ll survive on my own.

I’ve seen things…no woman should have to see. I’m done things…no pregnant woman should have to do. ::shudder::

It all started with laryngitis. Laryngitis that’s still not gone because it’s impossible to rest my voice when I’m the only person around to stop Ozzy Pups from stealing socks (Drop it!).

Then there was all of that snow.

But now, things have just gotten progressively harder.

Boo and his friend hung out at the house for a couple hours before basketball practice. Boo’s friend used the bathroom…and he…clogged the toilet in MY bathroom, not the kids’ bathroom.

Of course, I didn’t discover the clog until I was already doing the pee-pee dance. I had two options:

  1. Use the kids’ bathroom upstairs…which is never a good idea.
  2. Unclog the toilet myself.

Since I’ve never actually plunged a toilet, and because a pregnant woman with a heightened sense of smell should never have to plunge a toilet that’s been clogged by a kid that’s not even hers, I choose Option #3:

Call Dad to unclog the toilet while I ran Boo and his friend to practice.

I’ve decided to head off future bathroom problems by placing a woman figure on my bathroom door.

If Kiefer isn’t home this afternoon, this may be my last entry. Please send reinforcements…and extra bathrooms.

Favorite Comment From Last Post: “I agree…that’s classic protective behavior. Ozzy is putting himself between you and potential frosty danger, just like a Secret Service man. You should get him a little earpiece and some shades.”—BluzDude

5 Days Post Halloween and Only 387 Pieces of Candy Left

Kiefer and I always take a “cut” of Boo’s and Radley’s candy on Halloween night.

Because I feel guilty, my cut is about 5 pieces from each boy, and it’s dark chocolate or candy that they don’t like. For Boo, that meant Almond Joys, and for Radley, that meant Milky Way Darks. I love both.

Kiefer, on the other hand, takes a greater percentage. And over the next couple weeks, he also gradually sneaks a handful or two to take to work.

The boys ended up with at least 3 times this much candy.

Upon inspection of all their candy, we found about 6 full-size candy bars in each bag. What the…. I NEVER got a full-size candy bar in all my years of trick-r-treating.

This Halloween I met one kid who deserved a full-size candy bar…and it wasn’t because he had an amazing costume.

Our neighbors set up a Yard Haunt. It’s a miniwalk through their yard to the front door. Scary guys in costume jump out at you. We hear a lot of screaming, and we enjoy it because we’re awful people who take pleasure in the screams of others.

One boy skipped the Yard Haunt, and we felt scream-deprived. So when he came to our porch, this happened:

Kid: Trick-R-Treat!

Kiefer: I’ll give you extra candy if you go next door.

Kid: I’m not doing that! It’s too scary! Last year, I pooped my pants!

That kid, and only that kid, deserved a full-size candy bar on Halloween.

Favorite Comment From Last Post: “Stop complaining….21-lb boobs will make you popular.”—Carmen

Ozzy Pups: Panty Thief

Ozzy and I have finally reached an understanding in our relationship.

As long as I…

  • Pay attention to him 80% of the time, he’ll entertain himself the other 20% of the time.
  • Forget to clean the litter box, he’ll clean it for me.
  • Give him a treat occasionally after I say, “Drop it,” he’ll drop my stolen undies and socks on command.
  • Take him out back first, he won’t make me bag his poo on our walks.
  • Let him chase Esme occasionally, he’ll sometimes sit with her quietly.


When Kiefer was gone, Ozzy and I have spent a lot of time together. A lot. Almost too much.

Just when I think I’m about to lose my patience (and my voice), he plops down beside me, puts his head in my lap, and licks my hand.

And then I forgive him for the 5 minutes earlier with him running around the house with undies swinging from his mouth and chanting, “Panties! Glorious panties!” (Yes, Ozzy can talk.)

Favorite Comment From Last Post: There were so many awesome comments on the last post that I can’t pick one. Go read all of them!

Someone Else Bought a Zoo

If you had to choose between people and animals, who would you pick? 

License and registration, please.

When I was a kid, I decided to be a veterinarian because I loved animals. Then I realized that would involve needles and possibly blood. So I decided to be a zoologist. Then I realized that would involve picking up a lot of poo.

Recently, I decided to live vicariously through Matt Damon by watching We Bought a Zoo, and here’s what I learned:

  • Sometimes bears get depressed. Just give them some Paxil.
  • When a little girl calls you a “dick,” it’s cute.
  • “Whatever” is the laziest word of the 20th century.
  • If you keep your kids home from school, they may be eaten by zoo animals.
  • There is a stage of grief that involves zebras.
  • All you need is 20 seconds of insane courage for something great to happen.

Usually at the end of a post, I write what the most important lesson is that I learned from a movie. Something like this:

  • To scare a cat, even a big cat, make loud noises.


So this time I’d like to write something the movie could have learned from me.

  • To scare a cat, even a big cat, run a vacuum cleaner.

Favorite Comment From Last Post: “It has always been my contention that carrot cake is a salad. Covering it in icing doesn’t make it a dessert. Therefore, you can serve carrot cake, but I want a piece of chocolate cake at the very end of the meal.”—Kitten Thunder’s Girl