Just because she's bald doesn't make her a BOY!!

This is a huge HUGE Billy Fucillo fucking HUUUUUUGE beef with me.

People: Just because she's bald does NOT make her a boy.

At all.

Not even a little.

Now, I can understand. Most babies that are bald, yes, tend to look a tad unisex.

THAT is why God invented the color pink and hair bows people. And my child is wearing BOTH. And I'm talking PINK hair bow, PINK shirt, PINK bib and PINK socks with sneakers. How the FUCK do you think it's a boy??

Now, I get that kids where hand me downs. And honestly, if she were dressed in blue overalls and a green shirt. Yes. She'd look like a boy.

But come the fuck on.

Now as you can imagine, there was an inciting incident.

We were walking down the baking aisle, Charlotte's shellacked in pink like a goddamn cupcake and sitting in the cart quite happily pucking on her admittedly green sippy cup. And she kicks one of her shoes off. And an elderly woman passing by says "Oops! He lost a shoe!"

So, insert pretend Alley frustration as I say "Really kid?" and bend down to pick up said shoe. I HEARD the 'he'. But chose to ignore it. Anyone can mess up. No need to go all kung fu on the lady's ass over one wrong word. I have SOME standards.

Believe it or not.

BUT, she goes on to say "He doesn't want to wear shoes!" Now, at this point of the conversation, all TWO SECONDS of it, I'm a little annoyed. So I pat her head and say "She's usually really good and doesn't kick them off, but she's not feeling well today."

"He doesn't even need to wear shoes!"

Really lady? Are you just playing with me at this point?

I proceed to stare slack-jawwed at the old bitty as she totters away and cram the shoe back onto my wiggling porkchop's foot.

And can't help but think: Do some people do this intentionally knowing how much it pisses people off?

I'm really starting to think so.

Like I said before, I GET that with bald kids, it's hard to tell. That's why parents like me who are self conscious about their kid's cue ball head dress them accordingly. Be-ruffled and vajazzled for the world to be blinded by her sparkly little girlishness. So when I STILL get the 'he' and 'his' I have to wonder if people are A) assholes (possible) or B)unobservant fuckwits (...also possible).

My thoughts are these: that people at a certain age become bitter and disillusioned with the world. Because it's ALWAYS someone older. And alone. I NEVER get this crap from anyone in my age demographic. But I digress. They become so bitter that they see a mother happily chattering away at her adorable little girl and say to themselves "I'ma fuck with her." And you know what? It WORKS.

Yeah I talk a big talk about not letting other people's shit get in the way of my happiness, but this a bone of contention with me. It bugs me every time for one reason. It gets me thinking "Oh, isn't my baby pretty enough to be a girl?"

A COMPLETELY ridiculous thing to be thinking, I'm fully aware. But yet there I go. THIS IS HOW COMPLEXES ARE BORN. I'm going to end up gluing glitter to her face and buying her booty shorts with words on the butt like "luscious" JUST to get the point across.

But this is a nice segue into a mission of mine. I heard something the other day and it resonated in me. Sorta, struck a bell in my soul for lack of better term (what, I have one you know. Soul...that is...)

"What other people think of me is none of my business."

Try that on. Say that a few times. Out loud. Into a mirror.

It's an unsuspectingly powerful sentence.

What other people think of me is none of my business.

THAT is my new mantra. Now, when some asshat opens their face and stupid falls out, instead of wanting to dig at their eyes with my thumbs I'm going to take a deep breath, and say that to myself.

Hopefully, it will quell a little of the rage that festers in my soul over the stupidest things. But more than that, I LOVE who this quote comes from. And here's why: I want to give Charlotte FIERCE woman role models. Women that wrote their own rules and lived life on THEIR terms. I want her to see how strong and beautiful women can be and not be afraid to grow into her own skin in whichever way she sees best.

So, the speaker of these immortal words? RuPaul Charles.

Can't place the name? Lemmie help.



Still not quite getting there? Maybe this one will help a bit more...



RuPaul is talented. And beautiful. And strong. And successful. And bitch is FIERCE. Yeah, she fits every category that I want Charlotte to grow up to be, and I'm quite happy telling you that I plan on using her as a role model for my daughter.

Don't like it? Too damn bad.

And if RuPaul has taught me anything else aside from self confidence, is that retail can get me what nature didn't. So now, if you don't mind, we're going to run out and buy Charlotte some fierce weave so she stops looking like a boy.

I'm working I SWEAR!

So we all know that life is never easy. This past week I've gone through FOUR desktop computers, two phones and a first birthday party.

However, because I'm very diligent even if you don't SEE the new blogs believe me they are being written.

Here's what's coming:
Just because she's bald doesn't make her a BOY
What the Griffins done did eat Thursday Ver. 2.5
Oh what a difference a year can make.

I promise to get one out in the next two days or so :)

Love and face punches,
Alley

Homedid Baby Cheese

And no I don't mean cheese made *from* babies. I mean cheese made *for* babies.

Disclaimer: I take absolutely no credit for this idea. My friend Lynn has this blog (http://thekitchenismycanvas.blogspot.com/2011/05/yogurt-cheese.html) and it's awesome. I got the idea from her. So, starting off, there's your source material.

That being said when I read this I immediately thought that this stuff would be good for my baby. Few reasons. Namely: A.) she likes yogurt. B.) She likes cheese. C.) She's porky and shouldn't eat that much cheese.

But, I digress.

Here we go peeps! Homedid yogurt cheese! Pictorial guide!

You will need: a colander, a bowl, (measuring cup and spoon are optional, but I found them handy), paper towels and the yogurt. Oh, and a fridge, but I sort of assume you have one of those.

So, firstly, you want to put your colander in your bowl (to catch any run off) and then line it with two or three layers of paper towels. Then, grab your yogurt.



I used non-fat for the...well...non-fat aspect. Now I didn't want to make the whole tub because I wasn't sure how it was going to turn out. So I measured out two cups into my colander, thusly.



Now, here's what is going to happen folks: the whey is going to drain away from the solid of yogurt. So your paper towels are going to get wet. And it's going to melt/drain down into that bowl. The only downside is that your paper towels are going to get soaking wet. And you are going to have to change them. Now, maybe Lynn has some awesome pixie voodoo that I do not possess. Because me? I TOTALLY spilled my yogurt all over my own self and got left with one paper towel that looked like this:



So if you figure out a better way...go ahead and let me know. I just scraped it off back into the colander with the rest.

And at this point, it's probably a good idea to check in with your assistant.



Yeah, she's doing fine. Obviously.

Okay, so once you've changed out your paper towels about three times and let it drain for round abouts half an hour, you want to wrap it up in dry towels and toss the whole mess into the fridge.



And you're going to let it sit about 12 hours, or overnight. So just walk away and do some other fun stuff. Like make crayons.



So the next morning I yanked it out of the fridge and was pleasantly surprised to see that it had solidified to more or less the same consistency of cream cheese. Which is pretty much what we were going for. Add and little salt and BOOM!

YOGURT CHEESE!!



And as it was breakfast, I spread it on some of the baby's rice crackers and this is what happened:



All in all I have to agree with the Lynn, the taste is great. Plus the non-fat/protein breakdown compared to cream cheese is pretty badass. Add in the fact that you can EASILY flavor this stuff with chives, garlic you name it. And do you know how expensive that stuff is in the stores? Don't ask! Price for this? $2 for four cups. Can't beat THAT with a stick.

As far as ease, well the paper towel change was a bit of pain in the ass, but other than that it WAS pretty simple. Andy by the third change I had a system. I'm definitely going to be making the other two cups in the very near future.

And baby's enjoyment? Well, I'll leave you with this:



Enjoy folks!!

Does ANYBODY else's kid do this? ...no? Oh. Great.

Charlotte is quirky. And while yes, I realize that most kids are...sometimes I look at her sideways and wonder if she's all there.

She army crawls/rolls across the floor slowly while drinking her bottle. Not quickly mind you. Ever. So. Slowly. And I have no idea why. Not like she's reaching for anything. Just "Huh, I wonder what my bottle would taste like *over THERE*?" *scoot scoot scoot*

She chews on her feet at the dinner table. Not while eating, at least she has THOSE manners. No no, this is after we take her food and tray away. Like dessert. Little toe flavored dessert. I have NO idea why she does it because she doesn't chew on her feet ANYWHERE else.

She chews on the cat too. This is a much more dangerous hobby, as the cat has claws. But she has two style of attacks. The first is pretty sneaky. She crawls up behind sleeping cat and them grabs his tail and jams it in her mouth. Not very original, but it gets the job done. Second one is a bit more straight forward. She crawls headfirst at the beast, grabs him by both ears and jams his head at her mouth. More full frontal attack. And the weird thing is the cat just sorta sits there with this "Oh not THIS shit again..." look on his unhappy face.

I've heard from other parents that their children of a similar age are becoming fascinated with the toilet. We're currently waging that war in my house too. But apparently Charlotte wants to take it a step further. Yesterday I watched at she combed the toilet seat cover with my comb, and then tossed it and a few of my curlers into the water dish on the bathroom floor. You know, the animal water dish. *sigh* And it isn't the first run in with this dish either. She sat in it once.

And on that bathroom note, today she started chucking curlers and then my brush into the tub. (Please don't assume she's in the bathroom by herself, she has supervised house exploration in areas.) And what made it particularly hilarious was when the brush CRASHED into the tub, she turned to me, sat down, POUTED and said "UH OH." in THE most melodramatic little voice. I died laughing. But at the same time...WHY my brush? In the TUB??

She gets stuck under the pack and play. I mean UNDER the pack and play. Like "I'm tunneling to freedom, follow me!!" kind of stuck under. And then all you see are these two angry fat legs beating on the ground as she screams.

Seriously, she does all this and I have to wonder: do all babies have these weird little quirks that only they have? Or was it because I licked all that lead paint as a kid?

Normal quirks I expect. You know the type. Paper eating. That seems to be a big one. Crayon eating. She ate her first today. Turned her face blue. Can't WAIT to see that diaper. Basically eating things that aren't food. And generally trying to commandeer things that aren't for babies. Like the printer software cd. My mom's tin of mints. One flip flop. These things don't worry me.

It's when she starts trying to lick the baby gates that I start looking at her funny.

Parents help me out, make me feel better. Lay on me your baby quirks and your stories of WTF. I need to hear some to feel better about my weird ass kid.

I'll be here, watching my daughter scratch on the cat's post.

Homedid Crayons

People, I had a ton of fun. And I mean a TON of FUN making these. I can tell right now that this is getting added to my "Homedid Christmas" list. The most labor intensive part was the peeling and snapping of all the crayons. But if you have older children, slave labor and problem solved :)

So here we go! Homedid Crayons!

Firstly, I did NOT invent this process. I got the idea from livingwellspendingless.com And she in turn, ganked it from someone else. So if you want source material, there you go.

Secondly, when I saw this I immediately thought of Christmas. And then I got a b-day invite for Todd's cousins kid's 2nd birthday. THIS would be perfect. They lead a minimalistic life, they requested no gifts and they LOVE homedid/pre-loved things. These crayons fit every category.

So first, you need crayons. I happened to have a box full of old, some broken, mostly dull hot mess crayons from about 10 years ago.

Then you seperate them into colors. This I discovered is pretty subjective, so I decided right away to make some tyedyed ones.




Then, get 'em naked.



Next, take your silicone mold (I got mine at Joanne Fabrics with a 50% off coupon so it was $6) put it on a cookie sheet in case you have run off and fill your cups. I used two crayons per cup and it worked perfectly.



Then, bake them in a 250 degree over for 20 to 30 minutes. I checked mine at 20, saw they weren't totally melted and kept them in another few minutes. Pull them out and let the whole business cool for an hour. I turned my oven off between batches.



After about an hour, I popped them out of the mold (SUPER easy since the silicone has a lot of give to it) and set them out on my counter to harden up fully.



(I apologize I really am a HORRIBLE photographer.)

And voila! That's it folks! I made two batches using a full box of crayons. Only the browns were left over. Which is fine because I wanted bright colors anyhow. I packaged half the goodies up in a reused peanut butter jar :)



(Again, I'm just God awful at taking pictures.)

This blog was written in the quick and dirty style because I REALLY wanted to get this posted for the people that requested it. If you need any more info, hit me up :)

What we ate Wednesday

So as you may, or may not know, I follow a vegan blog. I don't know why. I'm not vegan. I don't plan to become vegan (so who the hell cares if they blog? Anyone? ANYONE get the reference?.) I used to be vegetarian purely because my colon hated me, but that's another blog. And this vegan has a little segment she does called "What We Ate Wednesday". And I have to say, not only is her food lovely to look at, but the picture composition is usually pretty stunning.

But here's my beef.

I don't buy it. I think she "poses" her food.

Because I don't know about you, but MY child is a HOT MESS when she eats.

So, because at heart I'm exceptionally vain and egotistical, here we go:

What the Griffins done did Eat Thursdays! (correct grammar is for hipster douches)

I haven't necessarily decided if I will post this blog ON Thursday, or take pictures of the Thursday meals. But Thursday is the day I picked. Hell, it might end up meaning nothing. You know how I can be.

So currently it's Thursday (Lord knows how many days this blog'll sit in the 'edit' pile. I have one in there from two weeks ago I still can't decide if it's too mean or I should just post it.) And this morning I went grocery shopping. I thought it was chillier than it turned out to be, so I threw on my 20 year old tyedyed shirt, my birks and some jeans and hit the store. What I find hilarious about that outfit is that while there I purchased four BOXES of granola and corn, mangoes, strawberries and potatoes. A buttload of produce. Crunchy hippy, I sure do pass as one.

But these strawberries got me thinking...strawberry shortcake! So I came home and literally spur of the moment whipped myself up a batch of buttermilk biscuits from scratch.



And here is the point in the program where I tell you about a very little known, yet RIDICULOUSLY handy little kitchen supply that you should have.

Namely, powdered buttermilk.



Now, I don't know about you, but I don't really USE that much buttermilk. Today's little journey ONLY happened because of the awesome strawberries (that were buy one get one free!) that I got at the supermarket. But this is EXACTLY why I like to keep this stuff on hand. Buttermilk normally would get used once and then the leftover would slowly migrate to the back of my fridge and turn to a disgusting funk that would stink up my whole kitchen after several weeks.

This little canister yes, lives in my fridge, but I only make as much as I need. No muss! No fuss!

Since the buttermilk was on my counter, another though hit me. Fried chicken! I soak my thawed chicken in buttermilk before I fry it to (up the calories) keep it moist while frying. So BAZINGA! I tossed that shit in the liquid and let it sit for about five hours.

I'm not posting a picture of that. It's raw chicken.

However, I will show you my fantastic assembly line for breading.



And...for good measure...fry you bastards FRY!


(fyi if any of you follow my facebook, it's Friday at this point and I'm drinking. Let's see how quickly we can get this blog to go downhill, shall we?)

I call this next section: Baby with a coffee cup. Full of mac n cheese.





And in the spirit of transparent honesty. If you think just because I make biscuits from scratch that my kitchen is Martha-clean, allow me to debunk that.



Second glass of wine. Man I'm feeling fine!
(See what I did there?)

So, we ate. Wow this blog is going great...



Hm...I seemed to have skipped over dinner. It's chicken. You've all seen chicken. Hey, I WARNED you this blog might not be that great :) So I'll just end with that. Dessert. And it was fucking delicious.

(memo to self: write better blog next time. Though I'm still posting it. Because the whole POINT of this blog is show my imperfection. I like to think I accomplished that tonight.)

Laundry: Recession Style

For several months now I have been making my own laundry soap. And spare one or two hiccups in the process it's worked just as well as anything I buy commercially. So here is my...

*drumroll*

PICTORAL GUIDE TO HOMEDID LAUNDRY SOAP!

You will need 3 (three) simple ingredients. You can find them all at Wegmans.

You will also need a food processor and a damp towel. I'll explain.

Firstly:



One bar of Fels Naptha soap. Chopped to bits.

Secondly:



One cup EACH of Borax and Washing Soda. And just for giggles, a container to put it all in. I use a spare tupperware I had laying around.

So, like I said, start off by chopping your soap to bits and then grind down as fine as you can in your food processor. Then add in one of your other dry ingredients

Like so:



COVER with the damp towel (otherwise it'll get all dusty) and grind that stuff down as far as you can.



Repeat for the last dry ingredient, covering with the towel, and crank that sucker on until you have a fine-ish dust. It'll look something like...



And BAZINGA! You just made homedid soap!

Toss it in a container (by the way this is a double batch, not that you think the laws of physics are suspended in my kitchen)



and use it in every load. I actually use an old formula scoop which is one tablespoon. I add two to each load, a few glugs of vinegar to soften and remove odors and for the really NASTY baby stuff a scoop of colorsafe bleach.

Now, you may be wondering if it's worth the effort. Here's my breakdown:
Fels Naptha - $1.12 per bar
Borax - $3 per 55 oz box (one cup per batch)
Washing Soda - $2.50 per 55 ox box (one cup per batch)

So really it costs me a one time investment of $5.50 to make several loads of detergent. At $1.12 for each NEW load. Worth it? As I get the SAME LIFE for $1.12 than I do with a 32load jug of Purex. Now, I will admit, on occasion I DO find purex for $.99, and then yes, I do buy some. Because life happens. I don't always have time to make more soap the day I run out and then the baby shits her face off. But with as sensitive as my skin is my clothes are always itchless, soft and comfy. Only once did I have a discoloration issue and that was totes my fault.

So there it is folks, enjoy :)

And as a general poll, would you like more of my pictoral homedid goodness?

Dear BabyCenter, I hate you.

To be fair, I don't hate EVERYTHING about BabyCenter. Just their emails. And it's not that I'm getting them and don't want to...it's that they make me feel bad.

Charlotte is...well, she's my special pork chop, that's for damn sure. She didn't start crawling "on time". She didn't start self feeding "on time". And walking? Let's not go there. Lately I've been trying to pull her into the middle of the room and I yell "Standing is FUN!" and she plops right down on her ass.

*sigh*

And I think, in this generation new moms have it A LOT harder in this respect. There's books. TV shows. DVDs. Online classes. Real life classes. "What your baby should be doing" emails. It's LITERALLY overload.

I'm betting 55 years ago when a kid did nothing but eat bologna slices and chew on their foot for six months nobody thought anything of it. Now your child is...
*suspenseful music*
DELAYED.

Ugh. Delay THIS *jabs her middle finger in the air*.

And THAT is exactly why I stopped reading baby books. And emails. And articles. EVERY LAST ONE of them, I stopped. Why?

Because my daughter is a unique and special snowflake, to say the least. And I was REALLY starting to feel like I was doin' it wrong. Especially the self feeding bit. We tried puffs. We tried piles. I tried a few different things at a time.

No. No. Annnnd no.

Let me break it down for you:

SCENE: Interior kitchen. Charlotte is unhappy and porkily strapped in her high chair with an assortment of multicolored food bits on the tray in front of her. Allison is trying desperately to pry a clenched fist open. Charlotte pulls her fist away, pumps it in the air and howls. Allison sees her opportunity and crams a puff in her open mouth. Charlotte spits the puff out and slams her fist down on it, smashing it to mush.

Lather, rinse and repeat with her squishing them in her fist while crying.

But I digress. Her progress did NOT AT ALL mesh up with the standardized progress charts in any of those books and what not. And it's REALLY hard not to let that get into your brain and start effecting your parenting. You start wondering "What's WRONG with my baby??"

Answer: nothing.

Not a hot damn thing.

So, I stopped reading all those "your baby should be..." updates. And you know what? I feel A TON better about things. Now, if I'm concerned or confused, I ask someone.

But what do you do when the advice is unsolicited? As a mom I never in a million years would think of all the CRAP people have felt validated telling me. About how they raised their children. What they fed them. What do I feed mine? Oh really? Well, I guess it's a different world.

Exactly! It's a different world! People don't eat lard sandwiches anymore! But that too is hard because people mean well, honest they do. But most times I honestly just want to take a hammer to people's faces. So what do you say to them?

Simple, you find your own unique way to say "Wow, that's interesting, but bugger the fuck off."

And it's not easy, it took me many many months to work up the guts to start heatedly defending my child rearing opinions. For example: my mother. For MONTHS every time my mother came over she would say something like "You are STILL breastfeeding her? That is EXACTLY why I didn't with you." Until finally one day I just blurted out "No, it's because you are lazy and selfish and you knew it would be more work than you wanted to provide because you didn't even want the baby in the first place."

BOOM.

Head shot bitch.

And you know what? She significantly stopped her bitching after that. Not completely, but that's Priscilla for you.

So...where am I going with all this? It's one of my more serious posts folks. You just have to learn to find your ground. What's cool for you and what's not. You've got to learn and adjust your parenting style. No book, no article is going to teach you how to do it. And if you want to be a walking library of facts and figures that's awesome.

Just stay the fuck away from me before I take a hammer to your face.

Who told you it was okay to touch my baby? THEY LIED!

Most of you have probably been there. You're in line at the bank, or the supermarket. Somewhere public. And you have your child with you in the cart, or what have you. Someone decides that it's obviously within the lines of decency to TOUCH YOUR CHILD.

Am I the ONLY person that wants to break strangers fingers OFF when they do this?

If we were in a restaurant, and I looked over and saw your food and said "Oh my GAWD that looks DELICIOUS!!!" and stuck my finger in it, wouldn't you be horror struck??

It's the same thing people.

Bad enough that they touch her hands. I don' know what the last time they washed their hands. But I know for a FACT that I wiped down that cart handle and seat before I put her in. As dirty as it is, I can safely say it's cleaner than strangers.

But sometimes people touch her face.

HER FACE!

I honestly want to teach to her scream "BAD TOUCH!" and try to bite people. But I'm pretty sure the Department of Child Welfare might have words for me. Though seriously, strangers touching my kid?? WHEN did this become okay?

Doesn't anyone else remember that when we were kids there was that whole "Stranger Danger" and "Street Smarts" movement? John Walsh telling us about his poor kid that got yanked from his mother in a Payless or something horrible like that. What happened to that?

But more importantly, what's the protocol here? I called a guy a douche once for just letting a store door slam on my cart because he didn't wait for me to grab it from him. Is it acceptable to call a sweet well meaning old lady a douche? As in "Hey ya douche! Get your fucking hands off my kid!"

Or maybe a more creative approach "Oh noes! Now you have the AIDS!"

Or maybe I should just make her wear a sign around her neck "Plz no touchies, kthnxbai".

Or perhaps teach her to burst into tears and scream "MOOOOM, that lady STOLE MY SOOOOUUUULLLL!!" Nothing like good old fashioned mortification to hammer a lesson home in some folks.

And the worst part is that it's totally subjective. It's not EVERYONE that touches her. I'm fine with family and friends. In fact I've been know to say "Here hold this..." and pass her to the nearest pair of open arms. It's just strangers. Who are older. And who I feel are one step away from "Would you like a butterscotch, little girl?" and they pull a Werther's original out of their purse from circa 1985 that would crack her teeth.

Am I wrong here? It's totally possible. Maybe I am just hyper-protective.

Either way, keeps your hands off my kid ya douche.

The Summer of My New Content

*dusts herself off*

Well HAI there!

I know, I KNOW. It's been too long. Let me explain. I stepped back from this blog. From lots of things actually. Because people are judgement douchenozzles that can't seem to keep their faces shut. This blog made me question almost every parenting choice I made. And I did not like being made to feel like I was failing at being a mommy.

So I stopped blogging. I cleared my friends list of dead weight. And over the past few months slowly had a core meltdown.

And now I'm just about done being nice. Not saying I'm a mean person, but I'm done pretending to tiptoe through the fucking tulips to make people happy.

I am NOT Mary Poppins. Nothing in the rule books says I can't be a mom AND swear. I am NOT a pair of khakis. I like zombie movies, video games and classic rock. And there is NOTHING wrong with any of that.

That being said, the blog is BACK ON baby!

This past year has brought a TON of changes in baby. She's cruising! She's talking! She waves! She barks, she drools...we're trying to curb those behaviors though :) And I think the world needs more examples of "real" parents. You people with your silent, well bahaved angel babies are either all lying or high on crack. So we're going to try this blog again. Better! Longer! And uncut!

...starting next blog :)

Alley