People I Want to Punch in the Throat


Dog Pedicures

You look like an ass when you walk your bedazzled dog.
Photo: Dog Community
OK, so I already hate the trend right now where everyone paints shit on their nails.  Who needs stupid owls or polka dots?  When did this happen?  What's wrong with pink or a simple French manicure? Why did it have to get so fucking complicated?  Why do we feel the need to bling everything? They're fucking nails.  They help you pick your nose and dig shit out small crevices.  There is no need to make them works of art.

The human nail obsession has been driving me crazy for a while, but today I saw something that pushed me over the edge:  Doggy Pedicures.  Not just a usual toenail clipping or something like that.  Nope.  Dog owners have decided they want their pup's paws to look as ridiculous as their own.  There is not one, but TWO companies, that make nail polish for dogs.  (BTW, I didn't even know a dog needed special nail polish.  If human nail polish isn't good enough for a dog what the fuck are we putting on our nails??)

PIWTPITT's 10 Rules for Grandparents

If you've been reading me for any length of time you will know that I love to make a good list of rules. Rules for daughters. Rules for sons. Rules for my kids when they're at playdates. Rules for moms who host playdates. Rules, rules, rules. I enjoy a good list of rules, even if I hate to follow rules (don't we all?).

Now I have a new list.

Rules for Grandparents.

Disclaimer: Now, now, I know my parents read this blog and before they get their knickers in a wad, I will say: You are good grandparents and even better free babysitters, so just relax over there these are not all about you. Just have a laugh - and maybe stop watching so much "CSI" in front of my kids. Adolpha knows what "blood spatter" means. 

Actually, that's a good place to start:

The Dads at Science City on Saturday

Saturday was a great day around here.  We had beautiful weather and the Hubs didn't have to show houses so we were looking for something fun to do.

Luckily, I have good friends that I can call at a moment's notice and say, "What are YOU doing today and can we come too?"  That's pretty much what I did to my friend.

She told me that she and her family were going to go downtown and visit the new Kansas City Ballet studio that just opened.  It was a supposed to be a big party with lots of fun (free) stuff for the kids to do.  She is a ballerina and her daughters are ballerinas, so they were pretty excited.

I'm a Good Mom. Or Why I Shaved My Legs Before Summer.

Some day when my children are complaining that their childhood sucked or that I didn't love them, I will remind them of the time I took them to Great Wolf Lodge.

I even put on wolf ears and posed for a picture!

We are lucky, because GWL (that's what the cool people who go there all the time call Great Wolf Lodge) is very close to us. I've never been though. Every year my parents like to take all the grandkids for a weekend and the Hubs and I run around the house screaming for joy and eating junk food without anyone bugging us for a bite.

Me - At Zen Massage

So I've been having a lot of stress-related (and, let's face it, age-related) pains lately and I figured I needed a massage.  I bought a massage gift certificate at an auction a few months ago and I decided on the spur of the moment to book a last minute massage last night.

I was going to try for sometime later in the week, but after I looked at my calendar for the upcoming week I felt the knots in my shoulders tighten.  I asked if they had an appointment for that night and the receptionist said I could get the last one of the night.  Perfect.

Or so I thought.

Why My Children Have No Right to Privacy

My friend Kim at Let Me Start By Saying wrote an essay that was featured on the Huffington Post. It was about reading her five-year-old daughter's diary. Kim knew her daughter had been writing in her diary and Kim wondered what was going on in her daughter's head. She took the key and opened the book. She was apprehensive. She was worried she might find out that her daughter was sad or angry or hiding something. Instead, she found that her daughter was happy and loved her life. Kim wrote a sweet and endearing post about this experience and her relief to find her daughter happy and healthy.

Apparently Yellow is the Color of Money

I never enjoyed being pregnant. I never "glowed." I slept like crap and something was always aching, sore, or bulging. After Adolpha was born, I knew I was too damn old to ever do it again.


I've just learned of a new and highly profitable business venture. The catch is, to make any money in this new market you must be pregnant. The profit margins are so high, I'm thinking of coming out of baby-making retirement just so I can cash in on it before the bubble bursts.

What is this hot tip? You ask.

Used positive pregnancy tests. As in peed upon sticks.