Advice To My (Bad) Dog.

Hadley.earsDearest Hadley:

Your ears are comically large yet you still can’t seem to hear anything I have to say.

I think it’s time for a a little talk.  You may not wanna hear this but the truth of the matter is, you’re the trouble-maker of the family.  If you’d just heed my simple advice, you’d be one happy dog.  So listen up…I’m doing this for your own good.

Make friends with the kids.  They’re your stomach’s strongest allies.  You drool for doughnuts.  You slobber for Sloppy Joes.  You pine for pig.  Every time I turn around, you’re begging for grub.  Here’s a hint:  the kids are eating all the time and it’d be mighty easy for them to slip you some food if they were so inclined.  When you see those shorties coming, don’t run the other way.  Let them dress you up in a superman costume, paint a purple mohawk on your head and use you as a live pillow pet.  You make them happy, there’ll be peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and half-eaten hot dogs in your future.  I guarantee it.mohawk

Give the UPS Man a freaking break already.   If you don’t stop going ballistic every time he comes onto the porch, you’re gonna drive away the one person who brings you all the things you love!  (And the things I love).  When it comes to the list of doggy goodies we order on a regular basis, we count on that delivery man.  Sit, stay and play nice.  Then you can tear into the package with abandon.  (You can see Hadley’s wish list at Sweet Relish here.  The site is an amazing way to keep digital lists of all the things you want or need).

Stop sticking your nose in other people’s business.  You’ve got the heart of a trouble-maker but let’s get one thing straight — your nose is the clear ringleader.  You’ll follow that thing anywhere.  And your favorite place is right through our back-yard fence.  I used to wonder how you got out so often and then one day, I just happened to be looking out the back door when you pressed your little nose against one of the privacy fence boards, pushed against it until it gave and then squeezed your 35-pound body through a hole about 6-inches wide.  The neighborhood report says that your first order of business when you’re out is to stick that smeller through other people’s fences to fight with their dogs.  No wonder your nose is irritated all the time.  Thank goodness for Opie & Dixie Snoutstik so we can heal it right up naturally.opie&dixie

Stop pulling on the damn leash.  You know how you love to go for walks?  Well, I hate them.  And it’s because you pull on the leash like a rabid bear the entire freaking time.  Walking you is more like skiing on concrete than walking.  If you’d just stop it, we’d be pounding that pavement a hell of a lot more.

Don’t roll in nasty crap.  You think it’s super fun to roll in the grass and dirt and red clay and dead birds and whatever other indescribable horrors you find in our backyard.  Whatever happiness you get from this disgusting act can’t touch the satisfaction you’ll find from snuggling with your family in our bed while we watch movies.  And trust me when I say, rolling in your own poo does not equal snuggling in my bed watching movies.  Stop it already.  It’s gross.

So there, my dearest cuddly little rascal, is the most profound advice I can give you to make your life happier and our lives happier.  I’m happy to see that you’re all ears.

Love, Mom

How’d you like to win a package of wonderful Opie & Dixie products for your four-legged family members?  One reader will win a bundle of all-natural goodies from Opie & Dixie including shampoo, conditioner, snoutstik and paw balm.  Get a closer look here.

All you have to do is visit Sweet Relish, sign up (it’s easy peasy) and leave a comment here telling me you’ve done it.  Extra points if you leave a bit of advice you’d give to your dog if you could.

Giveaway ends May 22.

Special thanks to my digital list obsession Sweet Relish for sponsoring this post.

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The Measure of a Mother

Today is a special day at T&T because I have a guest post from someone I’ve admired (aka stalked) for years.  Nicole Leigh Shaw, aka Ninja Mom, brings her smart, funny take on how moms are measured…and it’s not in inches.  I bow down.  You will too so be sure to visit her blog and follow her on facebook here.

ninjamomguest

Being a mother is tough. Not so much because one has the care (along with her co-parent, certain restrictions apply, may not be available in all states) of other human beings, but because there’s no clear definition of mother. Right, yes, the person who births a particular human is that child’s mother. But there is also that person who is seen at the grocery store with the child, helping him to pick a sugar-loaded cereal, denying her a small toy, or removing him from the middle of the seafood section when he’s trashing on the floor claiming that he’s “not done talking to the lobsters!”

That woman, like her counterpart wrangling children in the pew on Sunday, her doppelganger ushering kids through a soccer practice with erstwhile cheerleading, and her twin in the parking lot giving a stern lecture about not darting into traffic, that woman is being judged. I maintain that judgment, the collective silent critique of a woman’s interactions with her children, is the measure of a mother.

Mothers are measured. Like height, weight, and bra size, a mother can be cataloged by her actions. Does she yell too loudly at her children in public? Does she speak too softly when they run roughshod over her in the toy store? Where does she place her hand when restraining a toddler ready to bolt into a crowd? The upper arm? The back of the neck? The hair?

We are on display for the world to see, dissect, and comment upon in public forums both online and at carpool. Did you see how dirty her children’s fingernails are? That one dresses her kids better than I dress myself, does she think she’s raising Suri Cruise?

It’s painful to discover that you’ve been measured and marked like meat for consumption: prime, choice, select. One mom is good enough for PTA president, the other for cleaning up after the school carnival. Another is easier to stomach after being marinated in some booze.

Let me encourage you to take your own measure. Don’t let someone else decide if you’re the kind of mom too snooty to enjoy an afternoon with the neighborhood families at a community BBQ. Neither is it someone else’s business if you prefer filet mignon to frankfurters and your kids really do enjoy crudités.

On the chance that someone sizes you up correctly, own it. Introduce yourself and invite them to bring their kids over for craft time, or water balloon time. Sometimes we are who we appear to be, and that’s a good thing because how else will we recognize the rest of the moms who like to let their kids make mud pies or only eat organic snacks?

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8 Reasons It’s Better To Be a Guy Than a Girl.

It’s time for another “What He Said, by Mike.”  In true Mike fashion, he’s giving us all the many, varied reasons he thinks it’s better to be a dude than a chick.  I can think of a few more, like, say, the higher salaries, the easy orgasms, the higher alcohol tolerance and the general lower fat content of their bodies, but hey!  Mike’s reasons are totally valid too.  And much funnier.

bettertobeguy1.  Let’s write our name in the snow – Yes, ladies, the ability to pee anytime and anywhere you want is as great as you think it is.  Now add the ability to pee standing up and this life function becomes even sweeter.  Taking a #1 is minimal time for us.  It is like a NASCAR pit stop in the Men’s Room.  In fact, we would’ve created a special lounge complete with video game system in our restroom to enjoy our wait for you to finish in your rest room, if there weren’t so many dudes blowing out #2’s in our “pit area.”

2.  As Good As It Gets – I can take 10 minutes to get ready or I can take an hour, but at the end – I look exactly the same.  It’s tough being a chick with that tedious, time-consuming routine to follow every time you wanna go somewhere.  As long as there’s a baseball cap nearby, a man will always look half-way presentable.  You’ll never hear dudes gossiping to each other, “What was he thinking not shaving or wearing those shorts?”  If it’s a choice between spending more time on outfit coordination or watching Stripes for the 165th time, Stripes wins every single time.  “My philosophy: a hundred-dollar shine on a three-dollar pair of shoes.”

3.  Debbie Does Dallas – Porn is completely geared towards men’s fantasies.  I’m betting porn isn’t a huge topic during girls’ night out events other than for you to spill to your friends how you busted us watching some.  A woman’s body is beautiful.  A man’s bits and pieces are ugly.  Our interest in porn is directly related to the number of dudes in the video.  More men = less interest.  Plus, save the story lines for the Notebook.  Our interest is only gonna last about 5 minutes anyway…maybe less.

4.  This Bud’s for youThis one might be controversial but I think beer is a man’s drink and has always been marketed towards men.  When men get together they don’t order a round of Cosmos – it’s pitchers of the cheapest, crappiest beer they can find.  With that being said, one of the things I dearly love about my wife is that she likes beer and will always drink cervezas with me, which I find really cool.  Plus, I give her the bonus of spouting “I love you” in my burp voice which she finds terribly attractive.

5.  Is it hot in here? – Regardless of how our body looks, it’s almost always acceptable for a dude to have his shirt off, if it’s hot.  We take our shirts off while mowing the yard, taking a dip in the pool, going for a run, playing ball…  And we don’t get a second glance other than you telling your girlfriend it looks like Sasquatch is mowing the lawn.  Comfort trumps looks to a man.  Plus, if you were to get hot and remove your shirts to cool off, life as we know it would stop, dead in it’s tracks.

6.  Does this mean someone is thinking about my privates?  Scratching your goods – OK for dudes, not OK for chicks.  We spend 80% of our day scratching, adjusting, or just plain holding onto our twigs and berries.  Doesn’t matter if we’re watching TV, talking to our buddies, in the grocery store, in church, whatever.  That appendage and his two buddies is our security blanket and we are genetically wired to “check on it” and often.  Just watch your little male toddler running around the house and tell me I’m wrong.  Other than our wives and moms, no one tells us to stop.  Now if a gal was to scratch her nether regions 80% of the time, we’d recommend a shot of penicillin.

7.  That’ll do pig, that’ll do – Yes, we’re pigs, in every sense of the word and we know it.  We act like them, we smell like them, and we usually eat like them.  The ability to pound down 100 wings or 50 hot dogs is looked upon as a great feat in a man’s world.  You’ll never see a girl sitting in front of 5 pounds of cheddar fries with her girlfriends chanting Go!  Go!  Go!  Go!”

8.  You want the regular or deluxe manicure? – Getting nails done is a huge event for a girl and somehow takes hours.  Most men can do their nails in 5 minutes and not get one sideways glance when we show the nastiness of them in public.  Here’s my process, stick finger in mouth, grip nail with teeth, bite, pull, spit nail on floor, repeat.  It is not pretty, it doesn’t look good, but it gets the job done.  I know it’s a bad habit but I’m 100% sure that my last official act on this earth will be me biting my nails as my heart beats for the last time.

What he said by Mike

Yeah, it’s great to be a dude and thank God I was born this way because I’d be the nastiest chick on this planet.  And those are the 8 reasons it’s better to be a dude than a chick.  If you give me 8 minutes, I can think of (at least) 88 more!

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What She REALLY Wants for Mother’s Day

momsdaygiftHey, you!  Stop picking through the sad remains of Mother’s Day cards in Target.  Step away from the awful, already wilting bouquet of mixed blooms in Publix.  And for God’s sake, don’t even think about letting Jane Seymour talk you into buying that godawful open hearts necklace for her.

Because today, I’m letting you in on a little secret about what moms really want for Mother’s Day.  Their true heart’s desire…the way to make your wife the happiest she can possibly be on HER day…is to pack up those kids and take them somewhere for the weekend.  Or at the very least, for the afternoon.

Yes, it’s true.  What she wants most on Mother’s Day is a break from being a mother.

Your wife may not feel comfortable telling you this, so I will.

Let’s use my husband as an illustration.

I woke up the Thursday before Valentine’s Day to a note that said, “Happy Valentine’s Day.    Your to-do list for today:  pack bags for the kids because I’m taking them to my parents for the weekend!”

It’s important to remember, dads, that YOU must go too.  I’m sure you’re thinking, “WHAT?  She just wants a break from the kids, not me.  She wants to spend some private time with me!”

No.  No, she doesn’t.

Think for just a minute about how often your wife, the mother of your children gets to spend alone time in her own house.

Perhaps you can think of a weekend trip she took 2 years ago without the kids?  Not the same.  We’re talking specifically about time in her own home where she’s not taking care of anyone.  And she doesn’t have to do ANYTHING she doesn’t want to do.  Not even converse.   And she can make a meal out of a carton of ice cream and some wine and go right back to doing nothing in her pajamas.  This is her Mother’s Day dream.

Gabe pulled out of the driveway with our 2 kids headed to Florida the Friday before Valentine’s Day and for about 20 minutes, I walked around the house trying to figure out what to do with myself.  It’d been at least 2 years since I’d had a weekend alone in my own house.  2 YEARS!  I was confused and my body was used to being in perpetual motion.  I started a load of laundry.  I loaded the dishwasher.  And then I thought —  WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING??!!!

Once I sat down and put my feet up, I realized I was free.  Really free.  I watched a movie in the middle of the afternoon!  And it was a grown-up movie!  And I picked it with no input from anyone else!  I only paused it when I wanted to pause it!  And that was to take a spontaneous nap.  Because I COULD!

And they were gone the entire weekend.

Let’s stop a moment while we let the applause for my husband die down.

Waiting.

Still waiting.

Okay, all together now, “What a man, what a man, what a mighty good man!”

Here’s my sidebar message to you, the husband (or partners) —  it’s important for you to realize that she loves you and the kids more than anything.  Truly she does.  But if you want to give her what she really wants and deserves on Mother’s Day, pack up those kids!  Even if you can’t pull off an entire weekend, you can take them out for a long, extended day at the zoo or to the park and the movies.

Because what she needs the most on Mother’s Day is a break.  Not a breakfast in bed then she has to get up and clean the mess everyone made kind of break.  A real, no one around to take care of break.  A couple of days to remember what it’s like to do what SHE wants to do.

So, yeah.   Go ahead and buy that lame Mother’s Day card from Target.  It’ll be fine.  As long as what you write in it is, “Happy Mother’s Day.  We’ll see you on Monday.”

P.S.  She also really wants a copy of I Just Want To Pee Alone.  Maybe even a signed one. Click here.

P.P.S.  If you missed Mother’s day, no worries.  This gift is perfect any weekend of the year.  And if you give it to her, I bet you get a gift too.  Wink, wink.  Nudge, nudge.

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