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Magoo’s favorite new book is Rabid Demonic Cows by Margaret Wise Brown, originally published under the title The Big Red Barn. His verbal skills are burgeoning along with his animal impressions, particularly if he’s doing an impression of… a rabid demonic cow… or a dinosaur. They sound pretty much the same.

He can speak in short full sentences but prefers to shake his head wildly and say, “NO, NO, NO, NO, NO,” while frantically grasping for the item you’re offering him. He reminds me of Tom.

He wants to use the potty, but not really. He wants to sit on the potty wearing nothing but a furrowed brow and a smile. The combination is unnerving. I am afraid of his equipment which points ominously upwards as he sits with his chubby legs smooshed together. He has yet to unleash a stream of any kind but when he does, I may need a Swiffer with a longer handle.

Grammy was getting ready for an obligatory outing when she accidentally sliced open her tall man with a large knife.

Band-aid in place, she continued on with her preparations and grumbled to Papa about how much it hurt and how she couldn’t bend her knuckle.

Papa: That’s unfortunate considering which knuckle it is.
Grammy: I may give someone the knuckle tonight if they don’t watch it.
Laylee: Mom, why is Grammy going to give someone her knuckle?
Me: Why don’t you ask Grammy that question?

YouTube scares me, quite frankly. You never know what kind of junk you’ll find when you go there. The internet has gone completely content crazy. Got a video of your dog taking a nap? You’d better post it quick before he wakes up.

The ever wonderful PhilTube parody site keeps Dan and I laughing and asking each other, “Is it up yet? Well get it up!” (The site appears to be down. I’ll put a link up if it resurfaces.)

A while back Jeana posted links to some of her favorite commercials and it got me thinking, “I need more fun video in my life.”

So, here’s my latest greatest find, a reminder that you should really keep an eye on the garbage your kids are exposed to.

I’m also an undying fan of the Outpost.com commercials.

Give me a link to something that makes you laugh online – in a DYM appropriate sort of way.

Yesterday I dipped my toes in the pool of insanity. Yesterday I set some sort of record for caffeine consumption. Yesterday I watched Magoo plunge his hands into two public toilets, create a tsunami at Denny’s in Butte, Montana and smear his body with CANDY!! OH, OH, OH CANDY!!!!!!!

Yesterday I took a 14.5 hour road …

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I don’t really trust the holes in my washer.

I refuse to put the soap in until the bottom holes fill with water.

Who wants to throw all that detergent into a pock-marked abyss?

Not me.

And so I wait.

With a leettle expert advice, we’ve decided the new roof can wait for a few years while we save up to pay for it in cash. If things get really bad, we may send Laylee and Magoo to live in the attic holding pots and pans. Maybe they’ll make friends with the rats who will one day repay Laylee by making her a beautiful ball gown, which I will subsequently tear to shreds.

So now, rather than adding a high interest second mortgage payment to our monthly expenses, we need to save an extra $400 per month for the next 3 years. I am personally scared spitless considering I feel like we’re living close to the edge of our income as it is.

I’ve started to institute some cost-saving measures around the house and wondered if you had any other ideas to help me out.

1. You’re just not that into it — You may think you are now, in light of the amazing sale going on at J.C. Penny. But take a moment before you buy that rhinestone encrusted t-shirt or 3 TBSP capacity motorized jell-o grinder.
-Picture yourself carrying the item home.
-Where will it go in your house?
-How often will you use it?
-Tug and pull at the fabric. Is it likely to stretch out wide and shrink to the flattering level of -just above your belly button with only a few washings?
-Do you have anything at home that could do the job just as well with a little creativity?
-Would you put it on your birthday wish list and be happy with it as your gift?

In the end, if you wouldn’t be tempted to buy it at full price, don’t snatch it up just because it’s on sale.

2. Just because the recipe says you need it, doesn’t mean you do — I have always been one for following a recipe to the letter, especially the first time around. If it says to buy Kalamata olives to the tune of $5 per jar, I listen to the recipe. Not anymore my friends. There are tons of great substitutions you can make. Also, the more you make from scratch, the more you save. It doesn’t have to be hard. This book is helping me immensely. I’m also saving a lot with The Grocery Game.

3. Form an accountability group, preferably with someone who is effected by your spending habits — Dan and I have started meeting each night to discuss how much we’ve spent each day and what we have to show for it. If I know I’m going to have to say out loud, “I bought myself another brown purse because this one has more pockets and ooo look how much more current the style is than the other 10 brown purses collecting dust in my closet. IT HAS GOLD RIVETS!” I’m 67% more likely to leave the purse on the rack. I may be sad for 30 seconds but by the time I get back to my car, I feel mighty powerful for just walking away.

4. To quote Mir, “Friends don’t let friends pay full retail.” Subscribe to wantnot.net for great deals on things you were planning to buy anyway.

5. Have you ever heard of the library? – Don’t buy every book you ever thought of reading. Fully half the books I buy end up going back to the used bookstore as soon as I’ve finished. I waste buckets of money doing this every year.

Now share your tips, I beseech you.

reasons: rolling half-chewed apples, playdates, future Oscar wins, pigs feet

What cheers you? What brings you joy? When you need a quick pick-me up during the day, where do you turn?

Paint your toenails all different colors. If you really want to cheer up, paint your daughter’s too. If you REALLY need something extra, paint your son’s as well and see how long it takes dad to notice.

Lay on your back in the middle of the laundry pile and move the clothes around until they fit your body exactly. Then fake laughter until it becomes real or maniacal. Throw large clothing items at your children.

When your children are yelling at you, yell back in unrelated jibberishical syllables while dancing around and shaking your hair. Stop. Take a trip to the potty by way of the Cadbury mini-egg stash and stay there for a day or two. (If your home contains young children, you are authorized to peak through the crack under the door every hour or so.)

Eddie of the house of Bauer.

Conduct and star in your own living room opera. If you’re at work, go find your car in the parking garage and scare a few unsuspecting commuters with your muffled melodies. CD soundtrack is optional.

If all else fails, post your medical history on the internet and watch the encouraging comments pour in. I’ve got this goiter, ya see…

I’d love to hear what little releases you all have up your sleeves.

Today I got the best comment ever on my blog at The Parenting Post.

“Seriously.. if my name were Magoo I’d want to commit suicide.. I can’t believe people are actually listening to this stupid baby-naming fad.. STOP NAMING YOUR CHILDREN AFTER FICTIONAL CHARACTERS. Also, stop making up new names.. we have a list of names for a reason.. so USE IT!”

The commenter kindly provided his email address to which I sent this response:

Yes, Magoo is totally his real name. I didn’t give him an alter-ego at all on my blog to protect his privacy. I thought it would be a good idea to use his real name on the blog so his junior high friends could google search “Magoo Daring” and find out all about the consistency of his infantile poop. You’re right. I must be stopped.

Our next child will be named McFrick or Throckmorton, regardless of gender. Are those on “the list” or should I keep brainstorming?

Yesterday Dan was microwaving his lunch at work when a woman walked past him into the lunch room, removed his food halfway through its heating cycle and started nuking hers. He was so dumbfounded by this that he just waited for her to finish. When she was done, she left his food on the top of the microwave and walked out without a word.

Sometimes people are just oblivious. I like to imagine that she knew he was there microwaving his food and just felt that her needs were somehow more important, a lunchroom bully, waiting in the hallway for her next victim to begin reheating his leftovers. In reality, she was probably spaced out and didn’t even realize what she was doing.

A few years ago Dan and I had dinner guests who we didn’t know very well. I made some Indian food, a complicated dish requiring a ton of onions. I have zero tolerance for onions and sob like a child every time I come in contact with them.

Some time after the guests had left I walked past a mirror and noticed several inches of black mascara circles running down my face. “DAN! Why didn’t you TELL me I looked like a crazed clown the entire evening?” He had no idea what I was talking about. He came over. “Oh yeah. You do have a little something there.” It’s not that he’s a moron. He’s actually quite a genius. He’s just so used to seeing me a certain way (fabulous goddess of beauty) that he has a hard time noticing when something changes a wee bit.

Which brings me to the pigs feet. A couple of weeks ago I was grocery shopping as I am sometimes wont to do. In between the bottled artichokes (I was making a new dip recipe from Chilihead) and Vienna Sausages (I was keeping my distance) I found a “value pack” of pigs feet. I laughed out loud in the store and placed them in my cart.

Since I’m trying to lose weight and can’t eat all the food I’d like without feeling guilty, I’d rather just buy groceries that make me giggle.

I got them home and placed them in the food cupboard at eye level to see how long it would take Dan to notice them. 52 hours. It takes Dan 52 hours to notice a jar of pigs feet next to the niblets. But I couldn’t stop there. This is too fun.

I decided I would send the feet to anyone willing to play this little game with me. Then Mir started rambling on about liquid/ fragile/ perishable blah blah blah and I rethought my strategy.

It works like this. Go to the store. Buy a bottle of pigs feet (they cost around $4). Put them in an obvious place in a cupboard your spouse will open at least once a week. Email me a picture of the feet but don’t blog it so s/he won’t know what you’re doing. I’ll put a link to your blog on my sidebar with a counter of how long the pigs feet have been sitting there. Fun, yes? Just say yes, okay? I’ll enjoy it because I’m twisted like that.

Someone told me in an email today that I was a “solid example of motherhood” on my blog. Of course I know this is true and never more true than in my Parenting post today. Feel free to go over there and be enriched by my greatness.

Thanks to everyone for your awesome suggestions for Laylee’s faerie birthday. You people know how to part-tay! I’m sending the DYM shirt out to Heffalump for her suggestion of little flower pots and tools so the kids can create their own faerie gardens at home. I love this idea for its creativity, utility and cheapitude.

I will be using several of your ideas and will hopefully post pictures on the website some time in March. Again, thank you all so much. This may be the best birthday party EVER. Okay, if I gave them each a bag full of sugar and let them run in an orbiting pattern around my kitchen appliances it would be the best birthday party EVER but these suggestions should help make it more than adequate.