Category Archives: brilliant ideas

Girly Cupcakes

Posted on February 1, 2012 by wendy| 2 Comments

Just so you know, the Hubs said I shouldn’t blog about this, so Hello! You’d think he’d have learned by now….

This post is brought to you by Facebook and its new anti-privacy rules, because it was a friend of a friend who I have never heard of who posted this photo and my friend, a guy I actually do know, “liked” it.

Which apparently means the whole world gets to see it now, in case you just got out of that coma don’t know Facebook is raping you daily, right now.

Hold onto your britches. Take a gander at the girly cupcakes:
Puts new meaning in the term variety pack, eh?

Okay, focus, readers. Are ya with me? I posted this because I want to ask if you think it was would be outrageoushorrendousdisgusting of me to show this photo to my eight-year-old daughter?

Purely, a hypothetical question, Mrs. Child Protective Services, for the purposes of discussion.

I mean, if I did, I wonder if my child would guess right away what she was looking at or needed a hint from me.

I wonder if she’d then drop her jaw first, and then with a twinkle in her eye, her own drawers to show me hers as comparison to the frosted ones.

I also wonder if young girls should possess a relaxed, secure knowledge of their amazing, delicious cupcakes body.

Purely hypothetical, ya’ll. Don’t go get your panties in a–oh, never mind.

What do you think? Would you show a daughter and not a son? Is age a factor?

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how to make yourself feel better with a scarf (G-rated)

Posted on January 19, 2012 by wendy| 5 Comments

I have recently made a discovery. I am sad, desperate child who will take any crumb of chocolate chip cookie the Universe will toss to me. I’m not proud. I’m just confessing because I have realized a certain shall-we-say manipulation that you humans are powerless to refuse.

It is . . . my pink scarf.

To be honest, once I realized my powers I felt a tad guilty, but hey, I got over that…

Here’s the deal. Whenever I wear my scarf, whenever wherever, someone tells me how awesome it is. They can’t help it.

So, now, I put it on every day wondering what unsuspecting innocent will be my victim? (Last time it took 1 hour, and that included 40 minutes of driving alone).

And when they find I-like-your-scarf or what-a-pretty-scarf involuntarily pouring out of their mouths, I say Thank You and smile graciously on the outside while I’m MWA-HA-HA-HAAAAA’ing and mentally putting another notch in my scarf-conquering belt inside.

But I wanted to gloat share this insight because maybe you, too, have those times when you feel blue, or your prescription ran out you need a tiny boost from a total stranger in order to feel better about yourself.

My advice is this: Get your own an awesome scarf, because you ain’t getting mine a) getting compliments feel good, b) manipulating the human race feels good, and c) having just one thought of hopeful expectation for your day was one of Oprah’s favorite things may save on your liquor store bill.
No promises on c).

Yes? What’s that? I’m listening…

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This is the kind of thing that happens when lawyers are mommies.

Posted on January 5, 2012 by wendy| 6 Comments

["Dear tooth fairy, I lost my tooth that I lost today. I am really sorry that its not here....We swear the above statement is true."]

During the holidays, the Kid was inconsolable at losing the tooth she had just lost, so I suggested a letter to the tooth fairy (btw, Santa she is beginning to question, but the tooth fairy…this is more believable?), and all the adults would swear it was true. No, we had no notary, but it calmed her anyway. We hoped the tooth fairy would go on the honor system.

And she did! Whew! Close one!

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Hey! It’s 2012!

Posted on January 1, 2012 by wendy| Comments Off

Happy New Year!
Ask me whether what I have done is my life. ~ William Stafford


Our only security is our ability to change. ~ John Lilly

What’re ya finally gonna do in 2012?

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Merry Christmas!

Posted on December 25, 2011 by wendy| Comments Off

All of us at the Let the dog in! household wish you and yours a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

We hope you all get what’s on your lists!

Cheers!

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My Dear Santa Letter

Posted on December 19, 2011 by wendy| Comments Off

Dear Santa,

It’s not you. It’s me. It’s actually you.

I had hoped we could have some fun together, but I’m seeing problems now that are hard to ignore. For starters, you’re totally obsessed with the children of the world. Day and night, night and day, they seem to be all you think about. How is an ordinary and somewhat high maintenance woman to compete?

But it’s not just that. You’re, shall we say, a tad judgmental about it all. Naughty, nice, good, bad, all your love is completely conditional. I’m sure if you held me to that standard, I’d be getting that famous lump of coal, coal you like to coerce behavior with, coal you make those poor elves mine.

Which brings me to the elves. The more I know them, the more they seem like slaves. There’s really no payroll, is there? Sure they sing while they work, but I can’t get comfortable with that. How do you sleep at night?

Actually, between the snoring and the sleep apnea, you don’t. You should consider a better health regime, San. I’m sure once you drop out of the obese category, you’ll sleep better. That and getting Rudolph off the bed. I know he’s your favorite, but still. Hello? Antlers. Plus, sitting around 364 days and then an insane energy burst one day of the year would not be good for anyone.

Anyway, I’m sorry it’s not working out. Maybe you just need someone better suited to your lifestyle. I know you said it’s a marriage in name only, but you may have been on to something with that Mrs. Claus in the first place. She’s certainly tolerant, if nothing else. I bet if you put some effort out, she may come back from St. Thomas. That chief elf couldn’t really mean anything to her.

Best of luck to you,
Me

P.S., My kid would love an iPad2 and an Xbox 360 with Kinect. Thanks bunches!

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Reality v. Fantasy, My Brief (& Final) Attempt at Teaching

Posted on December 4, 2011 by wendy| 2 Comments

I have a dear nutcase friend who recently suggested that several of us mothers take their daughters after school on a rotating basis and teach them…something.

I agreed even though like you readers have been saying I don’t really know anything.

But the other moms desperate for their own kids to be at my house after school pointed out that I took pictures and uploaded them, and therefore that made me a third-grader version of a camera expert.
Commence fantasizing.

Oh, imagine the fun we could have, the tricks we could do, the magazine-cover-worthy pictures we’d take, the utter fascination they would express for my pixelicious brilliance!

Key word: imagine.

Yes, my imagination often burns my ass like an Ibiza nude beach gets me into trouble. Particularly when reality quickly comes stampeding through the living room of my mind.

These girls, especially the one I bore, were utterly fascinated by photography. For 2.3 seconds minutes. Until they finished taking pictures of my everyone’s butt.

Then they needed more pumpkin bread. And some “not boring” play time.

Sure, I corralled them as best I could to look legit when their moms came. I even got a few shots of what looks like engaged photography students.
In fact, they were eager to take wildlife shots, which was only accomplished one way by my pack of wild, squealing third graders: dog treats.
Yes, fantasy and reality meshed especially well during photography class for one particular family member.
Um, say….when’s the next class?Have you ever tried to teach something to a pack of kids? I recommend leaving it to the professionals. They’re called that for a reason.

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