There’s a hole in your shirt.

You know when you hear a song on the radio and you go ‘oooh, that’s ma jam!’

Well, this is a story about ma shirt.

The Shirt hails from NYC, so it’s automatically more cynical cooler than all my other clothes. Soft, neutral, striped, and the perfect ‘loose enough to hide last night’s Ben & Jerry’s binge, but not so loose that you look like you’ve given up and stopped shaving your legs’ fit. The fact that I got it pre-pregnancy for $5 was icing on the cake – and the fact that it still flatters the post-baby bod is – well, even more icing on the cake.

Mmmmmmm, delicious shirt....

Let’s get one thing straight: I love The Shirt dearly. I love it so much, I bought it despite the fact that it was made with side pockets. Side pockets in shirts are kind of like pockets in baby clothes. What the heck do you need them for?? Allow me to answer for you: …youdon’tneedshirtswithsidepockets. So to recap, I became the proud owner of the so-close-to-perfect shirt… but the pockets, grrrrr those POCKETS! I couldn’t wear it in that state! I had to decide on a logical course of action, and quick. So:

  1. I cut the pockets out, of course. And then:
  2. Sewed the holes shut so there were no gaping holes in both sides of my favorite shirt. Duh.
  3. Had a happy ending! Bye for now, tune in next time for a new fun story that makes perfect sense.

HAHAHAHA oh wait, that makes way too much sense. Here’s what actually happened:

  1. I cut the pockets out, of course. And then:
  2. Remembered “ohhhh yeah, I don’t know how to sew!” and put it in a biiiig pile with all the other things I’ll sew and/or craft with once I know how to sew and/or craft type things. DUH.

Fast forward 2 years: the pile has grown, I still don’t know how to sew, and my husband is all “GET RID OF THE PILE YOU DON’T KNOW HOW TO SEW.” Yeesh.

After deciding that I couldn’t rid myself of such an almost-perfect item, I decided the easiest thing would just be to wear it anyway. “Those holes are pretty small,” I thought. “Nobody will notice them, because the rest of the shirt is so awesome!” Soooo obviously, as soon as I wore it to work, my friend called me out for pretty much wearing a rag on purpose.

I tried to explain the backstory; “Oh no, it’s the greatest shirt ever, I just hated the pockets, I mean why do shirts even have pockets? So I cut them out, except then I didn’t know how to sew…” and I thought it would make her brain click like “OHHHH, I would do exactly the same thing!” But that didn’t happen. Nope. Not even a little. In fact she kinda looked like this:

Warning: The awesomeness of this item of clothing does not make up for logical shortcomings.

And then backed away slowly, leaving me alone in my classroom – all alone, with nobody but me, myself, and I to figure out how to get those damn pocket holes closed up before anyone else noticed (anyone else who hadn’t attended the school-wide faculty meeting that morning, anyway). Luckily, me, myself, and I are pretty smart people.

Allow me to present to you The Shirt, new and improved, no holes and no sewing necessary!

"How did she do that???"

LOGIC FOR THE WIN.

Since I’m clearly a pro at this whole ‘logic’ thing, do you have any problems that need solving? Leave ‘em in the comment section, I’m happy to help :)

Posted in Uncategorized | 7 Comments

Whose dumb idea was this, anyway.

In happy housecleaning news, yesterday I accomplished the equivalent of about 2.75 sparkly  rooms all by myself; one mostly super sparkly, and the others… ummm, kind of halfway sparkly. Soooo the whole house isn’t clean, which means my husband was kind of right, which sucks because I totally wanted to win the “Yes I can focus long enough to clean a house!” battle. But apparently these chicks aren’t avid fans of the site. Or maybe they’re devoted readers (probably) who just don’t make “Surprise! We’re cleaning your house for free!” visits. And there’s really no need to bring up that b-l-o-g p-o-s-t that I DID NOT SPEND TIME ON, right? Right.

One reason it’s annoying to be told that I can’t focus long enough to clean a house is because, well, it’s kind of an annoying thing to say. But even worse, it’s true. Which is COMPLETELY 1,025% annoying to live with. See, way back when I said I had ADD with a side of baby, I wasn’t kidding. So even though the baby was gone yesterday, the ADD stuck around and messed with my cleaning attempts at every turn. Don’t believe me? Take a look:

editor’s note: brain thoughts are in blue, because blue is pretty. Also, I’m trying to make things easy on you readers. You’re in my brain now. Things could get messy. 

10:00 a.m. – Goodbye Husband and Baby! Ooooh, I’ll show him. I am so gonna clean this entire house until it gleams.

10:01 a.m. – OMG Chick-fil-a is still open for breakfast! **Are we still trying to save money? Moving on…

10:15 a.m. – See that was fast, good for me! still plenty of time to cle- Oh hi, neighbor man! What’s that? It’s depressing that I am not able to cook for myself? HAHA THAT WAS A GOOD ONE! ::stabby eyes at neighbor man:: Nothing and nobody better get between me and my Chik’n minis. Now I’ll just eat my delicious breakfast reeeal quick, so’s I can get up to that bathroom and start me a scrubbin’.

10:45 a.m. -Omg this house is just messy. Everything everywhere is messy. I can’t clean everywhere at once. I need to make a list to organize myself. 

Easy enough...

11:30 a.m. – It’s ok that the list took forever, because whatever time might have been lost in wondering ‘what do I do next?’ is cancelled out because of the list!

11:31 a.m. - Ok just so I’m not tempted while I’m cleaning, I’ll check facebook. Real quick.

12:00 p.m. I’d better check my email too. OooohbabygirltightsIneedthose! Which reminds me I need to organize all the baby’s clothes (add that to the list)… ok so pack away the old stuff, unpack the hand-me-down bags, and if I don’t get them organized – omg Josie needs these super cute socks more than the tights. No wait, *I* need a scrub brush. Ah poop. I’m supposed to be cleaning.

12:01 p.m. - walk up to the bathroom to clean. Shoot I’m in pajamas. I need to find better cleaning clothes. 

12:30 p.m. walk back into the bathroom to clean. Do we not own a scrub brush? It’s in the hallway closet. It’s in the other hallway closet. It’s in the basement. It’s in the cabinet under the kitchen sink.

12:45 p.m. – Sweet, found it. Um, wow. This cabinet is a MESS.

12:46 p.m. – reorganize the kitchen sink cabinet. Yup.

1:15 p.m. – walk back into the bathroom to clean. Realize I am holding the world’s worst scrub brush.

1:16 p.m. – This is the world’s worst scrub brush.

1:17 p.m. - drive to Target to buy a new scrub brush.**

**And manilla folders, just a few grocery items, new face wash, and and and… 

2:45 p.m. (and $100 poorer) – walk back into the bathroom to clean.

Whose dumb idea was it to clean the house today, anyway?

On the bright side… well, on the bright side, my husband tolerates his mad hatter of a wife. But also, like I said, I did manage to clean approximately 2.75 rooms. The bathroom eventually got scrubbed like nobody’s business, and now that bitch smells fresher than a YMCA swimmin’ pool. That was a terrible comparison. Well take my word for it, it smells nice. Unfortunately I also attempted to organize all of the baby’s new and old clothes, but then I got distracted. Now her room looks like an insane hoarder moved in (don’t look at me like that). I have until next Sunday to get that taken care of. But don’t you worry, I’ll have it sparkling in no time…

Posted in Clean House, Goals | Tagged | 2 Comments

What’s the number for Merry Maids?

Existential question of the day: is it depressing, or is it a good thing when you look at your blog and are sad that you haven’t been able to update it in a long time? Full disclosure: I’m only halfway certain I’m using the word ‘existential’ correctly.

On the one hand, it means you are dedicated to your craft (yes, I’m implying that blogging is an art. It makes me feel important so shut up.) On the other hand, it means you have a life outside of the internet. Which some people would say is a good thing.

Apparently, 'some people' are old folks with gills on their heads.

Truth – I itch to update every night, but since work began I’ve developed an awful habit falling asleep too damn early. Tragic, right? The woes of a full-time working/wannabe stay-at-home blogger mom.

Life is hard...

No really though, it is tremendously difficult to lay down and nurse a baby to sleep without also falling asleep. Go ahead, try it! You will probably only be able to stay awake if you are a man, because your baby will smack you for trying to nurse it. Science is on my side here, people.

ANYWAY, it’s Saturday afternoon and I am sitting in an empty (and very dirty) house. I made a deal with the devil wha? I mean my husband that if he went to help his dad today and brought the baby with him, I’d be able to clean the entire house super duper awesomely while they were gone. No, the baby is not helping fix brakes on a car – although I think I read somewhere that it’s good to foster children’s manual labor skills early – my mother-in-law is keeping an eye on her. The only problem is, if the baby really is not here for me to watch, then I have ZERO reason to not actually clean the house super duper awesomely. Also, I kind of promised my husband that I really would clean, i.e. not spend 4 hours on my blog… which is why I composed this entire post on Microsoft Word. Total time spent on the blog: NOT 4 hours. Loophole for the win! Um, Husband, if you’re reading this (he totally reads this), don’t read this.

::wrinkles nose and sighs in resignation:: Welp, I can finally feel the caffeine kicking in, so I’d better go make the most of the energy. If I never post again, it’s because I was crushed by a pile of laundry and baby toys.

…….

Hey, here’s a thought: If I was actually crushed by a pile of laundry and baby toys, my husband would probably take pity on me and never make me clean the house again! I’m a genius? Or this is just asking for trouble? I’ll take your votes in the comments section.

Posted in Clean House, Goals | Tagged , , | 4 Comments

Lost: things that make sense.

Did you make a Hangin’ On voodoo doll today? Tell the truth. Because when I left for work this morning the site was fine, and I just got home and checked it out, and my pics are all kinds of effed up. So in case you were wondering, no, I wasn’t trying out a new fun idea for blogging in which I post the same picture over and over along with captions that make absolutely no sense. My pictures and captions are hilarious, thankyouverymuch, and most importantly NOT ALL THE FREAKING SAME.

So if you are mad at me for writing hilarious captions and you made a tiny voodoo doll which you then smashed onto a computer keyboard or something, I’m sorry, ok? Can we be friends again?

This is particularly troubling because (despite the fact that I spend a good chunk of time here) I’m not all that tech savvy. So I will bumble around for a bit and try to get this worked out. In the meantime, please join me in prayer: DEAR INTERNET GODS, FIX IT FIX IT FIX IT OMG PLEASE FIX IT

Up and running soon, I hope…

- Hangin’ On

**UPDATE** By your powers combined… all is right with the world! I think your collective good vibes helped to cancel out the mystery interwebz disease. That, and the desperate plea that I sent to the magical website helper elves. Thanks for hangin’ on while it got straightened out! (You like how I brought that all around, yeah?)

xox

-Hangin’ On

Posted in Fur and Anger, Witchcraft | 6 Comments

There were dice in the mirror!

So, we spent our weekend here:

If you can't sing the theme song, it's time for you to leave.

Baby J and her cousin are only 9 months apart, which is great. Even though 9 months in baby months is a pretty big leap – kind of same way 1 human year is like 24 dog years (roughly) and 15 minutes in fairyland is 1 year in Bon Temps (True Blood fans? eh?) – it’s still awesome to stick the bebes together and see what they’ll do. Annnnd I’m not gonna lie, my hope is that seeing her cousin do awesome 18 month old baby things will help convince J that it’s time to level up and become a super genius baby way ahead of her time. Seriously Baby, it’s time to move past the tricks that any average baby or above-average dog could do. Jeez.

Oh yeah? Well I bet your smart ass dog can't do all THISSSSS

Saturday started out low-key, with an early morning ‘ladies only’ dog walk. I say that like it was totally an exclusive event, when in actuality:

a) both my sister’s dogs are male, and

b) the human males were still asleep.

It was so nice… just me, my sister, my baby (who I was wearing), my two dogs (one of whom is totally insane), and my sister’s two dogs (one of whom is totally insane). Hmmm. I guess ‘low key’ has a different definition, post-babies. We were a good 20 minutes from their house when Josie sneezed. “Aw, so cute! Baby sneezes!” you say. Well to that I emphatically reply, NO. OMG. Her head isnt’ that big, I honestly didn’t know she was capable of storing so many boogers in there – and smarty pants Hangin’ On hadn’t had the forethought to bring any tissues (can I still blame new mom syndrome if my daughter is almost 9 months old??). My daughter was strapped to my chest, I was wearing only a tank top, each of my hands was currently holding a dog leash, and each of my baby‘s hands were currently flailing about and smearing green gobs ev.ery.where.

dramatic reenactment

Being the wise moms that we are, my sister and I decided that our two easiest choices – leaves and the plastic bags we’d brought for dog poo purposes – were not acceptable tissue alternatives. Instead, I ended up wiping her up as best I could with my shirt and we booked it home, both covered in snot. Pretty sure that means I leveled up as a mom. Or down, if you’re not into the whole ‘being covered in snot’ thing, but I choose instead to focus on the self-sacrificing nature of donating my shirt to a higher (read: baby) purpose.

After we managed to clean ourselves up we spent the rest of the weekend chillin’ in good ol’ Roxborough, and also traipsing about in the New Hope/Lambertville area with the junior mayor. It was awesome. Speaking of Lambertville, do you also love this video? Cuz you really should:

Yeah, so the baby didn’t learn to sprint this weekend, but I guess I’m ok with that. She’s lucky she’s cute. Thanks to the family and friends who made our trip so great!

Posted in Vacation | Tagged , , , , | 10 Comments

GET YOUR BIG STINKY DOG FACE AWAY FROM MY FACE

I hope you like short things, because we are currently on the throes of our first official Family Vacation – human and dog family members alike – and it’s difficult to form many coherent thoughts while on the road. Well, it’s hard to do that in general, but particularly on the road.

Our dog Trixie is a hot mess of a traveler. Whiny, panty, and all up in my shoulder grill. Effing eff dog, makes me wish I’d given her some Benadryl or chloroform our something before we got in the car. On the upside, we are in our new hand-me-down (thanks in-laws!) space bean station wagon, which allows the dogs to have their own space. It also allows me to want to chloroform the dog less. But only a little.

I sat in the back and entertained the baby for the first leg of the journey, and was transported back to my pre-teen station wagon days of fighting with my sisters for space and the best snacks. Except this time instead of sisters, it was the dog. At one point my husband offered to switch places with me, but when I eagerly agreed he said, “oh, I didn’t think you’d really take me up on that…” which made me wish I had chloroform for him, too.

We tried many tactics to stop the pathetic beast from whining and panting and snotting all over me and the baby. But driving with the windows rolled down led to EXTREME snotting, and we were driving through some awfully smelly section of I-95 N, so at that point dealing with the smelly dog was the lesser evil when compared to the weird beet/dirt/fart air. Threatening to leave Trixie at every rest stop also didn’t work – she must have been whining too loudly to hear us… BUT THEN, my husband had the awesome (and effective) idea to throw Chex mix into the back section of the car, piece by piece, so she would have to go on a fun treasure hunt and leave me alone. It was awesome. Every time the pup came near me with her gross tongue, I’d throw another piece of Chex mix far, far away. Gently. I was definitely not pelting the dog with flavor-dusted projectiles. It was like Heaven in snack bag form.

It was finally awesome! Until we realized that the system was imperfect (it always is, isn’t it?) – in effect, I was training Trixie to come CLOSER to me every minute, so that she’d get food. By that point I was ready to just chloroform myself. But sanity (husband) prevailed, and instead of committing dogocide I climbed into the front seat. He’s a smart man, that husband of mine.

You’ll be glad to know we made it to our destination in one respective piece. The baby was happy, the doggies were full of snacks, and my husband and I were grateful to be out of the space bean-turned-stink bean. We’re in the City of Brotherly Love until Sunday – although it should be called Sisterly Love, since we’re visiting my awesome sister and her fam. All in all, I’m just super grateful that nobody else besides my husband (who is legally bound to me) and my baby (who is too small to recount) were  present to witness my descent into immaturity. Tune in Monday, when I detail the adventures of adorable baby cousins in Philly and the horrible, horrible, daycare snot monster who followed us here…

Posted in Vacation | Tagged , , | 2 Comments

The zombies ate my alarm clock.

Did you realize when you started reading this blog that I could do more than give sage advice on how to make a family budget? No?! Well, it’s ok if you were momentarily blinded by my inspiring money-saving attempts. But today I’m here to blow your mind with something a little different. That’s right – something not money related. Are you ready? Cuz it’s time to get awesome.

So if you’re like me, you think having a big ass frying pan in the back seat of your car is a good idea because one day the zombies might really show up, and when they do, you’ll be ready. Wha? I mean, you need more time in the morning. We all know that getting up super early sucks. It sucks the life right out of my bones, and your bones too, because we already established that you are like me. And once the life is sucked out of your bones, you are a zombie. So really, the goal here is to having more time in the morning, without getting up earlier, and without turning into a zombie. Because then I’d have to hit you with my frying pan.

Better than the zombie pic I could have posted. Trust.

Here’s a morning time-user-upper activity: showering. A great way to save time is just to stop showering. You’re hogging all the hot water and using all the soft towels, and frankly we’re sick of it. But since you’re a stinky weirdo (NOT LIKE ME), you can’t just quit showering cold turkey. I, for example, have started showering at night instead of in the a.m. That way I can hit the snooze button many more times, but still make it to work (kind of sort of almost) on time.

Sometimes I do wish I could stop showering altogether, and that is because now that I have a baby it begs the question, ‘what the heck do you do with the baby while you shower?’ Little beebs used to be content to sit quietly while I showered, but now she is super mobile and totally into finding dangerous objects to put in her mouth.

Just look at her, picking the lock on my state-of-the-art baby containment system.

And while I can rely on my husband for many things, he is a sleepy man when the end of the night draws near. DangerMobileBaby and a sleepy dad are just about as dangerous a combination as HamperBaby and a showering mom. But never fear, Hangin’ On has the answer. Put the baby in her baby tub, plop that sucker in the grownup tub, and get your shower on!

I really do this, and it really works. But don’t be stupid about it. One good idea is to move the nozzle so water isn’t aimed directly at your baby’s face (duh). Also, make sure the temp is a little cooler than you’d normally have it (boiled babies = unhappy. Who knew?). Most importantly, and for serious, do not pick up the baby in the shower (super duh). Bubbly babies are so flipping adorable, you will be tempted to pick up your cute lil’ fat thing and give her snuggles. WELL QUIT IT. Give her some toys, shower quick, and then take a few minutes to suds the baby up so she also gets a bath.

Here is the breakdown of the awesomeness:

  1. It is night time – there are no obnoxious alarm clocks at night.
  2. You get to shower – you are not stinky.
  3. Baby is not secretly chewing on extension cords while you shower.
  4. Baby also gets to be not stinky.

In summation: I AM THE KING OF TIME AND STINK SAVING. Go forth and sleep in!

Posted in Time Saving | Tagged , , , | 12 Comments