Wednesday, August 27, 2014

If The Customer Service Sucks, Don't Spend Your Money On Their Products

Almost two years to the date that we purchased our Samsung microwave it stopped heating food. Everything else worked just fine. I followed the directions in the owners manual to reset and test to confirm that it was the magnetron (the part that heats) and then called Samsung to find out what I had to do to have the only part that was now still under warranty replaced.

That was December 2013.

Fast forward to today and I am now the proud owner of a Whirlpool microwave and will tell you that even if it's the lowest price on the face of the earth or even the only product of it's kind. If it's made by Samsung, DO. NOT. WASTE. YOUR. MONEY!!!


For eight months they have given me the run around. I have wasted countless hours on hold and dealt with some of the most incompetent customer service representatives on the face of the earth.

First they announced that I was out of warranty...I knew this.

Then they announced that if it was the magnetron it was covered...I also knew this.

Then they offered to sign me up for an extended service certified Samsung repair shops...ANYWHERE near here.

Then they transferred me to a Customer Service Agent who told me that I needed to take it to a Samsung certified repair shop. But wait...

Then they told me they would have to have someone call me within 1-2 days. It was approximately 1.5 WEEKS before I heard from anyone.

When someone finally did call me back they told me that 1. The machine was out of factory warranty but that the magnetron was still covered 2. I had to take it to a Samsung repair shop. They they put me on hold to look up said repair shop only to come back and tell me that one doesn't exist. I told them that I knew that and reminded them that I told them that when we first started the call.

I was then informed that our diagnosis of the magnetron had to be confirmed by a repair shop before they could do anything.

I asked why my hubby, who works on multi-million dollar equipment for a living, could do the diagnosis and was told that he wasn't certified by Samsung. I then pointed out that there was no one near us who was. They said that it had to be a repair shop, any repair shop. So I said, "What your telling me is that you will take a diagnosis from any Joe Blow about our microwave except from my husband despite his qualifications." They said yes.

They gave me a ticket number to reference and said that when I had the diagnosis to call back.

Approximately 48 hours later, before I could even find a repair shop, I got an email telling me that since they had not heard from me they were closing the ticket and I would have to start over when I was ready.

This went on for months.

They would give me the run around and then close out my ticket before I had the time to take the action they told me I had to take.

The repair shop that we took the machine to told me that they cancelled their Certified Affiliation  with Samsung because they were so difficult to work with.

No kidding?!

A month ago I spoke to someone in Executive Customer Relations and was told that they were going to do a pro-rated buy back of my machine since it had been such a "cluster" trying to get things taken care of. They would need the receipt to show what I paid and would then cut me a check.

Finally a light at the end of the tunnel.

Could I find this receipt? Nope. Of course I could find it until I needed it and then POOF it was gone!

I called Sears and they mailed me a copy of the original invoice.

In the meantime, I received an email from Samsung stating that since they had not received my receipt and were going to be closing my ticket.


I received the receipt from Sears and called Samsung to find out where I send it and was given the choice of text messaging or Email. I took the information for both and immediately sent the receipt via text. Three days later when I had heard nothing back I sent another copy back via email.

I received a voicemail and email from the customer service team informing me that they had received the receipt and that it was out of factory warranty but that the magnetron was still covered and I had to take it to a Samsung Certified Repair Center.

Holy Crap!!! Are you freakin serious?! WTF did I do in my lifetime to deserve to deal with this level of incompetence?!

I called, waited more than 30 minutes just to speak with someone and when I finally got someone on the phone, guess what they said? Yup! You're right... The machine was out of warranty but the magnetron was still covered and I needed to take it to a Samsung Certified Repair Center.

O! M! G!

After a lengthy conversation with someone, who should never have been hired to have a job that requires verbal communication, I was transferred to the Executive Customer Relations where I held for at least another 15 minutes while being forced to listen to a pre-recorded message about how wonderful Samsung is. Yeah right.

After finally getting a human I was informed that the other human who told me that I would receive a pro-rated buyback was wrong, translation lying and/or incompetent, and they wouldn't be doing that since the machine was no longer under warranty. I pointed out that they only reason the machine didn't work was because of the only part that was still under warranty and was told that that didn't matter and after wasting two hours of my life on the phone, there was nothing she could do to help me and there was no one else I could speak to since she was in the Executive Customer Relations department and was as high up the chain as I could go.

So in essence, eight months, countless phone calls and countless hours later Samsung has basically told me to F-off and they don't care whether or not I am a happy or disgruntled customer.

Samsung is like the abusive domestic partner who will punch you in the face, not apologize and then tell you they don't care all while trying to make you feel like you did something wrong.

So, if you want to feel like an abused piece of crap go ahead, by all means buy a Samsung.

If however, you prefer to be able to trust what you've purchased, stay away from them...far away from them. There are lots and lots of appliance companies out there. Samsung neither wants nor needs your business. They are not willing to stand by their products so you shouldn't give them your hard earned money.

I will NEVER, EVER, EVER own anything that says Samsung on it again as long as I live. AND, I will be more than happy to tell everyone I know how crappy their product was and how terribly I was treated by their grossly incompetent Customer Service Department.

If you know me, you know I mean it.

Wednesday, August 13, 2014


Seems that this is the week for loss.

I recently posted about a former friend's father passing and now we have lost one of the greatest funny men and actors of all time: Robin Williams.

I remember when he took the world by storm on Mork & Mindy. Being a child of the 80s, I also remember watching countless comedy specials with him in them and even bought one of his albums!

I sat in the theater at the end of Dead Poets' Society with tears streaming down my face completely numbed and awed that the man who had made me laugh could act so brilliantly that he could also make me cry while simultaneously wanting to run out and take the world by storm.

Carpe Diem!

I too try to seize the day but it's not always possible because I too have depression.

I have battled it for years.

Most of the time I win but there are times that all I want to do is go to sleep and never wake up.

People who do not have or who have never been exposed to depression think that it's something you can control with sheer will.

They are wrong.

There are many types and severities of depression but few if any can be dealt with by physical exercise, a clean house, change of attitude or any other suggestion from someone who means well but is clueless.

This may come as a surprise to some, but I have been on antidepressants since May of 1999.

I originally began taking them as a means to help quit smoking. Once done, I stopped taking them, and sank into a depression that rendered me nearly helpless.

I began to cry...and couldn't stop.

My (then) husband got me to the doctor and I started on the antidepressants in earnest.

The only time I've been off them was while I was going through IVF to get pregnant. Which by the way made a miserable pregnancy even worse.

I know that I need them. I know that I'm better with them. I know that having to take them has nothing to do with who I am morally.

So why do I still hiccup when the topic comes up?

Because not everyone does.

People still think you can work off depression.

The only way that works is if you are unemployed and depressed as a result. If you get a job, yes you will feel better but that's situational depression and not what I'm talking about. I'm talking about the chemical kind.

People still think that depression is "all in your head."

Well yes, but it's a synapse thing and nothing like what they think it is.

When the demon roars it's head I can feel the weight and gloom envelope me like a nasty, wet, woolen blanket that I can do nothing to keep from coming into contact with.

I am powerless to stop it.

It will bear down and stay until it dries out and I can push it off.

I am not weak and I don't do pity parties.

Depression has nothing to do with strength and "positive thinking."

Most days are very manageable. But then there are others...

My father passed away in December of 2010. In January, despite taking my daily dose of antidepressant, I had slipped into a depression where I started to cry and couldn't stop. It was lunchtime and I was behind the wheel of the car.

No knowing what else to do I started driving toward my doctor's office.

They were closed for lunch so I called a friend who stayed on the phone with me until the office opened.

Once I was able to get through to my doctor's office she got on the phone with me and stayed there until I walked into the office building.

There was nothing that day that triggered it. There was nothing I could have done to stop it. All I knew was that my doctor could help and my friend fights the beast too and would understand my panic.

I'd been down this road before.

I was terrified.

There is much talk about depression now that Robin Williams has committed suicide and I hope and pray that the conversation will last more than the standard 72 hours that most people seem to think is appropriate.

If we believe social media Robin is now "free" and "at peace." I'm not really sure about that.

Social media and religion also lead us to believe that our loved ones who have passed are "watching over us" and "always with us."

If that is the case and Robin is indeed "watching over" his family, I have no doubt that he is not at peace as he watches his family endure their pain as a result of his taking his own life.

There is no peace for anyone.

Suicide begets suicide.

Those who are "thinking about it" or that "have a plan" can easily be swayed to exercise that plan if they believe that their answers lie in their own death.

I ask that everyone be careful to not romanticize death or to act as if it's the answer.

It's not.

Be responsible and be proactive.

Don't wait for your friends or loved ones to call you. They won't.

Call them. Make sure they know you love them. That they are important to you. That they matter.

We'd all rather hear those things while we are alive than have it said as a eulogy.

Monday, August 11, 2014


I recently learned that a former friend has lost his father, a man that I also knew and remember with great fondness.

I know that everyone eventually dies and yet that knowledge does little, if anything, to quell the sadness that has washed over me.

The loss for the family is great as he was a really great guy.

Anytime I hear of someone losing their father the pain returns. I can fully empathize with that person's loss as I have "been there, done that."

In fact, there is not a day that goes by that I don't miss my dad.

Yes, I know that he "is with me all the time," blah, blah, blah...

Nice thought but it's just not the same as hearing him laugh.

I miss him.

I really, really miss him.

Some days the pain is nearly crippling. Other days it's just a dull throb but the pain always seems to be there always rearing up when something triggers it.

Today it was the loss of a former US F-Class Rifle Team member. We shot together in South Africa in 2005. We shot together on teams in Canada. We were teammates, competitors and friends.

He made me laugh.

His loss takes just a little bit of laughter out of my life.

May he rest in peace and may his family find comfort in the thought that his passing through the heavenly gates has restored him to health.

Saturday, August 2, 2014

Pee Pee

For the first time in nearly two years I have the house completely to myself.

Hubby and the boys are at his nephew's graduation/bon voyage to college party. They won't be home for a while.

I'm at a complete loss as to what to do with myself.

Of course I'm doing laundry. Duh!

I could read a book, knit, surf the web, troll Facebook...whatever I want but I have no idea what I want.

I'm restless and fidgety.

I want to write but without all the background noise to filter out I can't concentrate and my mind is racing. Thoughts come and go like lightning bugs in the dark and I can seem to zero in on any particular topic.

So much has gone on lately and time seems to speed up.

I blinked and the boys went from one to almost 21 months.

They are adorable and funny.

They repeat everything...and I mean EVERYTHING!!!

All of a sudden the words "crap" and "damn" have taken on greater meaning and my use of them has been curbed...considerably.

We are attempting the potting training part of child-rearing.

Right now it's more of a "thing" than actual training. We'll get there eventually but for now "pee pee" is just something that they like to say.

Until they are in the bathtub.

Then they like to pee in the cup that we use to rinse their hair. We have tried to have them pee on the potty before they get into the tub but they hold it until they get in the tub and then pee in the cup.

The Stuntman will repeatedly pee in the cup. He has enough control to grab the cup and hold it in the right place to make the attempt.

The other night after repeatedly attempting to no avail he looked up at me and declared, "empty."

Smart kid!

Bath time is a particular favorite of ours.

Hubby usually strips the kids while I go upstairs to run the bath. Once naked and given the "all clear" he opens the gate and lets them climb up.

The other night after undressing one and while undressing another, the first came over and peed on hubby's foot.

He yelled.

The culprit sprinted through the house buck naked giggling and screaming the entire time.

I laughed.

How can you not laugh?

Monday, June 23, 2014

King Swirly and Parent Fails

The last month passed at lightning speed. I blinked...It's June 23!

How the hell did that happen?!

In addition to being the mother of 19-month-old twins, I am the owner and designer of a cake business, co-owner of an outdoor living business and I work part-time on the weekends for Dyson.

To sum it up, I work seven days a week.

I took the day off for Mother's day, Father's day and another day that as of this moment I can't remember. All I know is that I didn't have to wake up to the alarm clock.

I love all of my jobs.

Of course, most days, being a mom is the best of them all but I'd be lying if I said that getting out of the house on the weekends is a really nice break. The downside of that is I don't get much time with my hubby. I am, however, old enough and wise enough, to know that life will not be this frantic forever and something will slow down...eventually.

Here's a basic breakdown of my days. Roll out of bed at 7:30 (if I lucky and get to sleep that late), get the kids up and dressed, read email while kids eat breakfast. Bake or decorate cakes while kids play, feed kids lunch at 11:30 - respond to more email and/or post pics of my work to Facebook, free children from high chairs and let them play (aka fight) by themselves. Between 1 & 1:30 the kids go down for naps. I clean up the crap that they have strewn about the house, run the Dyson (I'm not just an employee) if I need to, shower, dry and style hair (tell me again why I want long hair) and get back to working on cake.

The boys usually sleep until about 3pm and once they are up my time is completely devoted to them unless I have one of the sitters here. If I have a sitter, I work on cake and then start dinner prep.

Depending on hubby's work schedule he arrives home anytime between 5:30 and 9:00 pm.

The late nights really suck!

Depending on my schedule, I either go to bed once the boys are in bed or I work. I often find myself up until 1 or 2 a.m. As tough as it can be on me the next day, I have to say that I love the quiet.

The day after late nights aren't usually bad but last night was a tough one.

I got to bed around 1 a.m. but the stuntman woke up screaming at 4:30. I grabbed him and put him in bed with us where he proceeded to kick and flail basically beating the crap out of me until I finally gave up and got up at about 6:30.

They are down for naps so, now that the toys are picked up and I've started the same load of laundry for the third time, I'm writing.

I love to write; I just don't have lots of time to devote to it.

We've had so many wonderful little experiences since I last wrote a post that there is no way I could ever fill you in on all of them - besides I know we had them...just don't ask me what they brain is fried.

We've had some rather comical parent fails that I would like to share to prevent others from making the same mistake....

Do not refer to peas as "little balls." We did and the end result was a kitchen floor covered with "little balls" because well, what do you do with a ball? That's THROW it! Their obsession with balls seems to be waning so we might try the peas again soon.

While reading the book Goodnight Gorilla I foolishly suggested that the boys refer to the armadillo in the story as a "dillo" because they could not pronounce armadillo. This resulted in my boys shouting DILDO every time we get to that page. Yes, this is in fact hysterical and they are so cute when they say it, but everyone knows that children at this age are little parrots. I can only imagine what people must think we talk about around our children whenever they feel compelled to shout "Dildo!" at the top of their lungs.

Referring to my hubby's daily beer as "Daddy's bah" was probably not the best idea either. They drink from bottles so daddy's must be the same right?

Not so much.

The other night I heard the Stuntman coughing in the kitchen. I rounded the corner to find him standing next to the table with the longneck bottle in hand, a pretty disgusted look on his face, basically gagging from the taste of the contents of "daddy's bah."


Father's day was both good and bad.

Hubby loved our present but I was sick as a dog!

After a breakfast of blueberry pancakes, the Stuntman picked the blueberries out of them and left the pancake behind, I went back to bed.

I was awaked by hubby saying, "You guys stay here, I'll be right back." Followed by an unending chorus of "COW, COW, COW, COW, COW, COW..." (you get the point).

I dragged myself to the bathroom window to see what the commotion was and discovered hubby walking across the back lawn (the south 40 as we call it) with a cow tethered by an old piece of line from hubby's sailing days.

We live behind an Amish farm.

The calf was teething and chewed thru the fence. The cow is his mother.

Hubby got a hold of her and walked her home.

For a moment I thought I was at a 4H fair.

As I began to climb back into bed I heard the door to the powder room downstairs open. I threw on my sweatpants as fast as I could and raced downstairs to find that the Engineer had dunked Moo Moo in the toilet.

Moo Moo is a black and white bunny that was given to the boys for Easter. The stuntman won't go to bed without him. There is another Moo Moo that is brown and white that belongs to the Engineer but he is not as attached to his Moo Moo.

Moo Moo is the same color as the case you were questioning our sons' intelligence.

After disinfecting the bathroom and hall floors I rinsed out Moo Moo and put him on the back porch to dry in the sun, hoping that he'd be dry enough for nap time.

Fortunately, it worked!

Nap time is the easiest part of the day. .

I prepare the bottles and put them in the "magic box" (aka microwave) and when it beeps the boys meet me at the bottom of the stairs. As they climb to the top I always ask if they can go close mommy's bathroom door, which is nothing more than an incentive to climb the stairs. Once at the top I go into their room and place a bottle on each of the cribs, then retrieve the children. In the 12 steps that it took me to put down the bottles and come back the Engineer had managed to not only dunk Moo Moo in my toilet but had given him a King Swirly!

What is a King Swirly you ask? It's when the bully of the school would put another kid's head in the toilet and flush.

Thank goodness the Engineer held onto Moo Moo...things could have been so much worse.

I threw Moo Moo in the tub, put both of the boys to bed, gave the Stuntman the Engineer's Moo Moo, closed the door and went back to bed.

The rest of the day went fairly well and we had a wonderful time with my in-laws celebrating Father's Day.

I don't normally make New Year's Resolutions but this year I did and the fact that I had done nothing about it had been bothering me for months.

I am a pile maker and like my mom, I have Flat Surface Disease (FSD). If I am not sure what to do with something, I do nothing and just let it stack up.

Having children has exacerbated my FSD as it takes time to deal with the piles. When the piles get to big or start to fall over, I move them to the office. The piles were taking over and I was living in fear of the producers of Hoarders showing up at my front door.

My resolution was to clean the office.

I had a cancellation in my cake business last week so Friday, which is usually hell day for me was very, very calm. I had the kids with the sitter/mother's helper and then turned them over to daddy when he arrived home and stayed in the office until it was finished.

This was what it looked like before I started. 

It took hours and three trips to empty the office trashcan before it was finished but here is the end result: 

Ta Da! 

Now all I have to do is lock the door and it will never get messy again. 

I wonder if there is a 12-Step Program for FSD?

Friday, May 16, 2014

Thanks Hubby

I wake to music playing softly in the background, a cup of steaming coffee is on my nightstand and my husband is reciting my spa schedule for the day...

That is my dream.

The reality is that we woke up before the kids, I waited while my hubby made the coffee (he hadn't set up the pot the night before) and we had a few moments of snuggling before the kids woke up and the day went into insanity mode.

Once the boys were awake and we'd finished our coffee we headed downstairs where the boys presented me with a mylar Mother's Day balloon, that they then proceeded to fight over. I received two cards, one from the boys and one from hubby.

Both were mushy and made me cry.

In addition to the balloon and the cards was a small wrapped box that held a beautiful necklace with a pendant in the shape of a heart filled with crystals and a smaller heart that was engraved with the word "mom."


As young girls we dream of many things.

Unicorns, white castles, beasts that turn into princes, a knight in shining armor, our wedding day, our dress and being a mommy.

I am no exception.

I dreamt of all of those things, and a few others that shall remain nameless, and just knew that I was going to fall in love with mister perfect and have a bunch of kids...pretty sure I can blame Disney and the Brady Bunch for such dreams...

I fell in love and got married...a couple of times.

Fortunately I finally did find Mr. Right and we have this wonderful little family of four - thank you Lord for boys and not girls.

Mr. Right actually found me...I wasn't looking. So I did finally get it right but as a friend of mine so aptly stated, "Even a blind squirrel finds a nut eventually."

It's wonderful most of the time.

Yeah we have those moments where you just want to lock your kid in a closet and go sit on the porch with a nice hot cup of coffee but for the most part things are great.

My hubby works insanely hard. His job is nuts and this time of year is the worst. He is in the pool industry. The commercial side of it. This is the time of year where everyone needs everything done to get their outdoor pools ready for the masses on Memorial Day weekend. I'm lucky if he's home by 8.

My day's are lightly less insane but only because I do much, much less driving than he does. After we get up in the morning I try to have my coffee while the kids have their morning bottles. Often they like to run around upstairs and play with stuff in our closet.

Last week I actually managed to get in the shower early and, as I was getting dressed, the Stuntman looked at me, patted his head and said, "hat." Thanks hubby!

I wonder how old they'll be before they stop calling bras, hats?

As the kids get older they are learning their body parts: ears, eyes, toes...If you ask them where boogers come from they will point to their noses. Thanks hubby!

I'm so proud.

I really am proud though. You can ask them for a book by the title or subject matter and they can bring it to you.

I might just be a puffed up mommy but I find that to be astounding considering that they just turned 18 months!

If they want to go out they will bring you not one but a matched pair of shoes, they know words like jacket, bucket and turtle. Their vocabulary is growing as fast as they are and we have to be ever vigilant to keep it "clean" around here.

As hard as we try, it's just so easy to get frustrated and let a "dammit" slip out.

I can completely understand why some kids often believe that their first name is actually dammit.

With hubby working so hard he is perpetually exhausted. With that comes his ability to fall asleep instantly.

I hate that he can fall asleep so quickly and am jealous that I can't.

No matter what I do, I do not fall asleep right away.

I can be exhausted to the point of tears streaming down my cheeks and I do not fall asleep right away.

In the evening I take the Stuntman upstairs and hubby stays on the sofa with the Engineer. I put the Stuntman to bed after he's finished his bottle and then let hubby know, via text message, that he can bring the Engineer up...

Then I go downstairs and wake up hubby to let him know that the Stuntman is in bed.

I ask hubby to set up the coffee pot and I take the Engineer up and put him to bed.

After I set up the coffee pot and wake up hubby we go to bed...I am now so wired that sleeping is not an option at all, but I get into bed anyway.

One night last week hubby was snoring so loudly that the windows were rattling and I get downstairs and find the Engineer wide awake and bouncing around on both him and the sofa.

Hubby was clueless.

I gathered the Engineer up, took him up to the rocker in the bedroom and after I got him back to sleep went back downstairs to set up the coffee pot and woke up the hubby.

He said something about trees...

Yeah, we have no idea either!

Thursday, April 17, 2014

We Have A Revolt!

The boys favorite place to be is outside. They love to run around in the grass and especially love to follow daddy around the yard "helping" him with different projects.

There are times that I just can't stop what I'm doing and run around the yard with them and, with the weather the way that it's been, I also don't want to be outside!

Hubby discovered a work around for this on rainy days or days when I am too busy to be able to drop what I am doing and go outside. We open the inside door to the garage (with the big door closed) and let them come and go as they wish. They love this and it keeps them occupied for long periods of time.

We've moved all of the dangerous gardening tools to the shed and put the other harmful stuff up where they cannot reach it, etc. Can't baby-proof 100% but we've moved the obvious stuff.

I told my mom that we let them play in the garage and she immediately replied, "Well, I hope you're not letting them play with the tools!"


I'm not sure if it was because I was exhausted or just tired of these types of "well-meaning" comments, I replied in a rather sarcastic, snippy manor, "You mean I should take the hacksaw away from them? We were going to let them practice trimming the hedges by lopping off their fingers with the pinking shears. Guess we should stop them..."

Yeah...this is what I deal with.

I love my mom to pieces but her constant diatribe of ridiculous comments can really get under my skin sometimes.

I have a home-based cake business and am often up until 2am working a cakes for delivery. There are plenty of days that I am exhausted but have to be up because of the boys. When the exhaustion factor has taken over my fuse gets very short. Not so much for the babies but more so for stupidity!

On those days in particular I avoid Walmart...Just no patience for that sect of society.

The boys are usually a source of amusement for me but some days they leave me at my whit's end...this would be one of those days...

They have figured out how to open the powder room door and usually do so yelling, "BOO!" at whomever is sitting on the potty. This initial introduction is then followed by the shouting of the word pee-pee more times that you can imagine any creature uttering a word. It was cute the first couple of times, now it's just annoying.

When I am not looking they like to open the door and play with the toilet brush - yuck! or remove the toilet paper and roll it around on the floor. I get absolutely nothing accomplished because my time is spent moving them from the door to a toy hoping to divert their attention. As of right now there is a five gallon bucket of spackle topped with a three gallon bucket of ceiling paint in front of the door to keep them out of the room.

Needless to say my productivity is non-existent today.

My eyesight has gotten worse over the years which is a good thing in a's heightened my hearing which is much needed since I can't see around corners without stopping whatever I am doing...Hence the reason I work until 2am.

I have come to know the sound of certain toys, the door to their bookcase, the cabinet they play in etc. It's the silence and the odd noises that get my attention. On of the noises that I'm sure I'll never tire of is that of my husband struggling to control the boys.

We usually bathe the boys every other night, unless they are really dirty from helping daddy in the gardens. The other night after bath time and after putting them into diapers I went back into the bathroom to drain the tub and rinse the ring of boy funk down the drain. As I was finishing up I heard, "Uh, no, no, NO!!! We have a revolt, we have a revolt!!!"

When I walked into the boys' room the Engineer was standing in the middle of the floor completely naked - diaper nowhere to be found - poking himself in the penis and giggling. Meanwhile hubby has the Stuntman in his lap - sort of - desperately trying to reattach the diaper that he had removed.

The Stuntman was across one of hubby's legs and doing the 'crocodile roll' trying to prevent the re-application of the diaper. He was moving so fast that he appeared to have grown another set of arms and legs.

Hubby looked like he was trying to put a diaper on a spinning octopus.

Both were making lots of noise but neither was coherent because they were laughing so hard.

Evidently the boys had worked together to remove their diapers.

The Engineer slowly pealed the tabs back on his diaper, across the room from daddy, who could not get there in time to prevent said removal and just as the Engineer was successful hubby turned to see Stuntman remove his diaper "Chippendale" style and fling it across the room - Please God do not let this be a premonition of future employment!

This, no doubt, will not be the last time they successfully remove their diapers and fling them across the room...I just pray that the next time they will be as clean as they were this time.


I happen to love having a history with someone. Ours is short. We've only been together for 5.5 years but have managed to cram a lifetime into what amounts to a smidge more than half a decade.

Hubby refers to them as "adventures." We've had many.

I used to travel a great deal for work and from time to time hubby would join me to both help out and get in a little sightseeing. We have been to AZ (multiple times), Tennessee and Colorado to name a few. We always bookended the trips with personal time that included things like visiting the Grand Canyon, Beal Street and Zip lining in Vale!

We might not travel now but our days are no less exciting.

Rather than gazing at the grandeur of the Grand Canyon we now gaze upon the faces of our boys. We no longer risk life and limb zip lining across gigantic ravines. Instead, we risk our lives changing toxic diapers. Seriously! It's amazing how bad the end product of a grilled cheese sandwich can smell. We no longer dance to the sweet, soulful music on Beal Street but do silly dances with the boys on the playroom floor.

Our days are filled with bumps, bruises and boo-boos that need kissing and occasionally an ice pack.

The other night the stuntman took a header off the back of the sofa onto the hardwood floor. While he was screaming he kept putting his hands in his mouth and, I swear, I saw blood on his tongue. So I applied an ice pack to his mouth and he stopped crying.

About ten minutes later hubby and I noticed that he had a lump on the top of his head...his mouth was fine. Evidently icing his mouth was simply a diversion that caused him to stop crying...probably because he was trying to figure out why mommy and daddy were putting that cold thing on his face?

There are many times that the kids go bump that I don't react at all. I don't want wimpy kids that cry at the drop of a hat or every time they bump into things. They are going to bump into an awful lot of stuff in the next couple of years and need to learn that not everything is "cry worthy."

Granted I am not really an expert here, but I can say from my 17+ months of experience that they clearly look to us to see how they should react. I have even seen them fall down, pause, look at me, whine, wait for a reaction and, when they get none, get up and walk away!

I snap at people who freak out or make a big deal out of it when they fall.

Don't do it!

There are enough whiney kids in the world...I don't want mine on that list!

Much of their reactions to things are learned but there are somethings that you can neither teach nor prevent...Boys will be boys and there is nothing you can do about it!  

We live behind an Amish farm. They are a lovely, kind, God-fearing, hard-working family who welcomed their sixth child into this world last November.

Every day the older kids cut through our yard to get to their school house. It's a really long walk by today's standards and even involves traveling down a road a very busy road.

A couple of weeks ago I headed out to the store at about the same time the Amish school let out for the day. Seeing the kids walking down the road I slowed so that I could leave plenty of room when I passed them. As I neared them the oldest of the boys, in his adorable little straw hat looked at me, smiled and then did the 'Miley Cyrus tongue face' as I drove by!

I almost drove into a tree!

Aaaah boys!

I would be happy no matter what I had, but I have to say that I am beyond grateful that I have sons and not daughters. As one friend put it "I will forever be the queen of my castle."

There will be no PMS drama in this house unless it comes from me and as another friend said, "When you have a son you worry about that one boy, when you have a daughter you worry about all the boys!"

I was never a girlie-girl to begin with and the thought of having daughters brought on nightmares and anxiety attacks the likes of which were paralleled only by my PTSD from a car accident!

I have enough friends with daughters and enough nieces of my own to know that the drama can be painful beyond words and was truly terrified of the thought. Besides, I prefer tree climbing to Barbies any day of the week!

Monday, March 24, 2014

Helga Schnidt and Ass Wax

Lately it seems that the only time hubby and I get to talk to each other is after our heads have hit the pillows. It's the only time we are alone and the only time we can finish a sentence uninterrupted.

We love to talk about the things that the boys have done during the day and even imitate their actions or the way they try to say certain words like "bah" for bottle, "ha" (pat head when saying this) for hat but the best is the Engineer's new sign for the word icky. Here's how it works...hold your hand up, fingers open, palm facing you in front of your face, make a "raspberry" sound and pull your hand away while closing your fingers at the same time.

It's kinda fun, isn't it?

You can say the word, and if he hears you, will automatically do the sign. We've been teaching the boys sign language because they can sign long before they can form words with their mouths. Hubby does have a hearing loss, but that is not the reason for the signing.

Hubby's hearing loss is real, not the usual situational hearing loss that most men seem to have but true, diagnosed hearing loss complete with hearing aides...that he doesn't wear nearly enough. Needless to say conversations can be very interesting, if not confusing, and often take an extremely humorous turn.

A couple of years ago, while on the phone, the name of a friend of ours came up and he asked if I knew what he was doing these days. I replied, "I think he's an Aflac salesman." After a more than long pause hubby replied, "What's ass wax?"


Wait, What?

"What are you talking about?" I asked.

He replied, "You said he was an 'ass wax' salesman."

"OH MY GAWD!!! HAHAHAHAHA!!! Not ass wax, AFLAC, AFLAC! You know like the duck, Aaaaaaaflaaaaac!"

To this day anytime we misunderstand each other, we just say "ass wax."

Despite his hearing loss, he is not the only one that has trouble deciphering what they've heard. The other night we were partaking of our usual pillow about our days and how tired we were - the Stuntman had been waking up in the middle of the night - when Hubby suddenly started talking about a woman named Helga Schnidt.

Totally confused, I asked him what she had to do with any of this and who was she anyway?

"Who?" He replied.

"Helga Schnidt"

"Who the hell is that?" he asked.

"How the hell should I know you brought her up." I said.

Hubby replied, "I said, 'You've had a helluva night!'"

I have no idea how I heard "Helga Schnidt" but hubby launched into a monologue about "the next shot-putter to the line is Germany's Helga Schnidt complete with a tightly wound bun!"

We must have laughed for a good 20 minutes.

Monday, March 3, 2014

Mistakes Are Not Failures

I now have a job demonstrating Dyson vacuum cleaners on the weekends working both Saturday and Sunday from 10am to 6pm. Hubby and I made the decision to do this so that I could earn extra income and he could watch the kids and we wouldn't have to pay out anything for childcare. 

I know that right now you are envisioning the door to door vacuum cleaner salesman who pesters the "decision maker" of the home into buying a vacuum...Well you'd be wrong.

I'm paid hourly to stand in either Bed Bath & Beyond or Costco and demonstrate how a Dyson works, I do not make commission.

I've been a Dyson user for years and love their products. They are not gimmicks and really do a good way :)

Some things you might want to consider when buying one of our products: It really is covered under warranty for five years. If something breaks and you wait 7 years before calling customer service, it will not be covered and it won't be our fault. It's not meant to vacuum up water. There is no need to get insane about cleaning the inside of the canister and/or washing it out with water. Technically, it is the inside of a vacuum cleaner and no one really gives a rats ass if it's dirty. If you have that much time on your hands, you might want to consider volunteering with a non-profit, I'm sure they'd love your enthusiasm. 

I do not know where the mattresses, refrigerators or foot massagers are located. One would think that that the black shirt with the word "Dyson" printed on it would alert people to the fact that I am not an employee of the store but you'd be wrong. The shirt is my uniform, the people at Costco wear red vests and in Bed Bath & Beyond the employees wear name tags that say Bed Bath & Beyond.

If you don't bother to notice that my shirt says Dyson and ask me where to find a toilet brush, please don't be offended when I can't tell you.

Oh and please save the "suck" jokes...I've heard them all...

I am actually enjoying this experience. I have a marketing job that I do from the house. A cake business that I run from the house and a business that I am starting with my sisters-in-law so it's not like I'm not busy. The bulk of what I do, I do from home and love it. However, I love being out working with the public too. Most of the time it's lots of fun but once in a while I meet someone who is obviously hell-bent on being miserable and trying to take everyone down with them.

I'll never understand this type of person.

I'm a generally happy person. I love to laugh and I love to make others laugh. I even tried my hand at stand-up and did pretty well. I really have experienced the rush of "the roar of the crowd" and loved it! Why anyone wouldn't want that feeling I can't imagine but some people just aren't happy unless they have something to complain about!

Last week we had our bi-weekly moms' group get together. Normally we have a speaker and then break out into groups to talk about specific topics and other times we have craft workshops where we learn things like knitting or review a book. It's two hours of free babysitting with a hot breakfast with other experience worth it's weight in gold...but I digress...Last week we didn't have a speaker or groups so we just got to sit and talk. We were sharing funny child stories and one of the moms was telling us about her son - "a numbers guy" at the age of six - who loves to watch the numbers change on their digital scale. He has asked her to get on so he could watch the numbers on the scale and when it finally stopped he exclaimed, "Whoa mom! Look at all the points you got!" In his mind higher was better!


We talked about changing our perceptions of our weight and seeing it for what it was...a number. Granted, you don't want to make a point on getting a "higher score" every time you step on the scale - if you even own one - rather being should be ok with the number that you get. We are not all built the same, we'll never be Victoria Secret models but we are who we are, our spouses love us for who we are, that's why he chose us. We need to be ok with the "score" and find ways to be living examples to our children of happy accepting people who are comfortable in our own skin.

I have fought with my weight my entire life. Between mean girls in high school and magazines that showed emaciated girls as "normal" I've always had a warped perception of my own body. It wasn't until I had kids that I realized my "shell" doesn't matter as much as my heart.

I have done many, many things in my life. I have been married before...a couple of times, I've been a step-mother, manager, clerk, mechanic etc., but the greatest, most difficult, yet most rewarding thing, is being a mommy.

At the time, each job seemed like the most important thing I could possibly ever do and I did it with as much enthusiasm as I could. If you know me, you know I am an all or nothing kind of girl. I do nothing just wastes time.

As important as those things were at the time they pale by comparison to my life these days. I'm not talking about kissing boo-boos or changing diapers. Yes, those things come with the territory but the unconditional, deep-rooted love that I have for the two tiny little men who call me momma.
The smiles and the giggles that I get when I play peek-a-boo or the hugs and kisses I get when I get home from my part-time job on the weekends or the warm snuggly feeling that I get when I rock them to sleep at night all contribute to the most amazing love I have ever felt for another human being.

I don't try to be perfect. I don't want to be perfect. I've learned way too much in my life from my trials and tribulations. I don't want my kids to be afraid of making mistakes. Mistakes are not failures unless you fail to learn something from them.

James Dyson doesn't look at things as failures, he looks at them as learning opportunities. I want my kids to grow up with the same attitude and drive to find solutions. If I'm constantly trying to be perfect I am never showing them how to improve only how they'll never measure up.

I enjoy watching the kids discover something new and watching what they do with it. Just the other night they dug two new swim diapers out of the closet and had us put them on their heads. Yup! Hats! We've put those hats on them every day since. They love to run around in them and they are, of course, adorable!

I want their minds and their hearts to be open. I want them to be accepting of themselves as well as others and I want them to be happy.

We all dream that our kids will become doctors or lawyers or the next Pulitzer Prize winner but the fact is that I want my kids to be happy and know that they are loved more than they can possibly imagine, until they day their own kids are born...then they'll get it.

Maybe they'll find a cure for cancer or maybe they'll be in a Costco, politely saying, "No sir, I don't know where they keep the pickles, I work for Dyson."  As long as they are happy, my life will never suck.