disclaimer or something

A mummy-hand holding, (former) biker gang affiliating, hippie influenced semi crunchy granola mom's ramblings and reminisings on an off-kilter life
Showing posts with label funny. Show all posts
Showing posts with label funny. Show all posts

Thursday, September 13, 2012

Adventures in Employment and Wow! I can do that.

So. I went to the temp agency today and I feel good about myself, as they WILL have a job for me. After almost a year and a half without a job or really any promises, you don't know how great that feels.

However, while it was a positive experience and I have not felt this positive, happy, yeah me since God knows when, it was an interesting, foreign experience.

I applied to teach pre-school. Sure, it was my first job ever, at 19, as a summer job. So I would have done every bit of education, training, money spent, jobs performed, just to go back to doing what I did, not needing all that I, well, did. But it turns out I need 24 ECE (Early Childhood) units, of which I'm shy some. Heck, sure, I have a freaking Master's degree in education, a credential that authorizes me to teach Pre-K (plus two more) and experience buuuuut without those units, since it is federally funded pre-school, too bad. Not qualified.

So anyways, I walk in and some kid in line (ok probably in his early 20s. Kids these days! Get off my lawn you whippersnapper). His interview is before mine. Good luck, dude, with your backwards baseball cap and pot-leaf t-shirt. Really? Seriously?


I took some competency tests and felt like one of my students, taking some "stressful test" along with students....weird...I was suddenly 18 again, felt weird suddenly doing stuff my past students do, along with them. I took an excel software test and got very frustrated and wanted to shake the pc violently because it allowed one way to do something. In excel, there is almost always more way than one to some something, so a program that only accepts one way is annoying, I got a crappy score but know I can do what it asked me, just differently. Grr.

I impressed the heck out of the staffing agency, but it was kind of depressing too..they said, "wow...a BA? Oh, my and a MA degree?" Yes. Yes and I am looking at jobs that do not pay $50 an hour or what have you because I need a job and, well, my ideas of education do not go well with the education industry since I go against the grain, think outside the box, to help kids.

Then they asked these confusing questions like, "do you want full time, part time, temporary fill-in or temp to hire?" Umm, all. All. Because jobs are awesome. Experience is awesome. And "do you want a job that is casual, business casual, semi professional or professional?" Umm, again, check all. But they wanted just to check one box. Having only really worked in the bubble world of education (minus 4 days at a restaurant, the only job I was ever fired from, 5-8 hours a week for a year as a secretary/archivist in college, and a few weeks, here and there hours stocking books...) its like, I don't know what I want. I'm a quick learner and want to see what the world has to offer.

So we will see. It takes about a week to find out anything. I can accept or decline any job they suggest, but of course it is best to not decline a bunch.

I liked the staffing organization and felt so good about myself.

I do not want to leave my sweet little boy in day care, but he is nearly 2 years old and I'm ready to be a grown up in the world of work again.

Oh and today I  learned I can type 58 wpm if I really try, and walk/jog 5k, in 44 min, without having done any exercise for 5 years. I mean 44 min isn't that great but with no prep? No exercise really, for 5 years? 44 min is darned good. I don't really even want to set a goal, "5k in 25 minutes" or whatever cause I despise running and really, my goal was, can I do it? Not, "how fast?". It's more..a baseline....okay I can do it in 44 minutes, can I do that at least once a week? That's the kind of goal I'm going for. I just want to tone some had-a-kid-gravity-after-30 flab (girl, you are not flabby, you look like you never had a kid! Well, what, a skinny0ish girl can't want to be fit and healthy?) and for cardio (I mean, cardio is good for you). I also need to do some weight training crap to strengthen my chest and back to help with my scoliosis and asthma. I am NOT looking forward to that. The treadmill was kind of fin. Lifting weights is soo boring, it feels like...doing laundry....too methodical or something, I dunno.... I can space out, rock out to music, whatever on the treadmill. Lifting weights, I have to focus on counting reps and breathing through the pain and standing correctly and I can't rock out or space out which removes any bit of pleasure or motivation.
But never the less, Go me! Today is a good day.

Wednesday, July 11, 2012

Welcome to Arizona, no bra required

I was bra-less in Arizona a few days ago. No I wasn't going all Girls Gone Wild at Havasu but yes my bra was not in my possession. °°°°°°°°°°°°°°

my son had survived me being gone for five hours, his longest time without me EVER, when I had an interview (see my previous post, below). He survived because I guess he had found my pajama top and was snuggling to it in his crib all day. So......after a long drive with many more hours to go ,as we cross into Arizona, i think....crap my son will not last. He hates the car seat and needs to be held. I can tell. But you can't do that in a moving car.crap. then it dawns on me, get him something that smells like me, like when he snuggled to my pajama top. So... I brainstorm and voila! I unhook my bra and like a girl at a Beatles concert ,I fling it into his awaiting eager hands. Success! He smiles and sniffs my bra and snuggles to it like a teddy bear. And falls asleep. But like the feminine napkin on the light during our last road trip,my hubby looks back and is all wtf?did you know our son has your bra? Why?

unemployed but no, I won't do that no no I won't do that

I think anyone rreading my blog or who knows me knows I have been unemployed for 14 MONTHS so I am getting a wee bit snarky about it. I was thinking I must smell funny and just no one has had the heart to tell me, except that I have only had 5 interviews out of over 500 job apps so I can't smell on paper or via an emailed application. But what the f*ck gives?
°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°° So I applied to over 50 jobs in the Midwest, not where I live, and got an interview!yes an interview! So I drove over an hour there and had a 5 hour interview. Well really the interview itself was super brief, most of the 5 hours were spent with me typing a 8 page response to some rubrics and case studies and stuff. The interview I probably bombed because it was so....weird. The interview panel was dressed down, like they were at the grocery store while I was stuffed into a black hot suit in 100 degree weather, since it was an administrative position (has to look " in charge") and going in a bikini wasn't optional. So then the questions were funky. They were "explain a time when at work you didn't feel you got the recognition you deserved. Explain a time when you struggled with a deadline. Explain a time...." And I felt like an idiot. I am usually rapid fire speaking,like an auctioneer ,at an interview and suddenly it was like I caught stupid. Umm, hm...(pause) let me think (pause..search ten years of work experience in seconds) umm..oh! Well this one time...(no not at band camp). The panel gave interview stink eye, like, you have to have an answer and never isn't the answer ,so hurry up you idiot.
°°°°°°°°°°°°°So I didn't get the job. Not even a courtesy call, email, or letter ,youk now, "thanks for showing up and wearing a hot dark suit in blazing heat when our a/c wasn't working. Thanks for your interview and you didn't make the cut because you are dumb. And your essay questions show you care about children so obviously you don't fit in. Besides, when we checked your resume and references,flames shot out and a demonic ghost said to not hire you. So here is your official letter of rejection .f*ck you.". Nope
 °°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°So what do I mean about caring about children? Well, while I need a job, I am glad I wasn't hired. Like that Meatloaf song, edited for my situation , I'd do anything for a job but I won't do that no no no I won't do that. So..ok...would you send your child to a school that.. 1. Does not have recess. For your kindergartner. ( well, kinder through 6th grade), not even a break where kids can run around or socialize or sit and zone out. 2. For a technology centered school, they had a computer lab with old desktop pcs. That is it for technology and you would come in once a week to do test prep on the computer. 3. They had lunch of course but only 30 no...20 minutes. With no recess, they would just sit and eat. In assigned seats. With only the kids in their class, so if you wanted to eat with your friend in the other 5th grade class, too bad, they had a separate lunch periods? 4 OR WHATEVER SINCE MY NOOK IS ONLY LETTING ME SEE THE LINE I AM TYPING the students never got rewarded for good stuff .sure, you need intrinsic value to want to do well. But sometimes you really need a hello kitty eraser to motivate you to turn in your damned homework. And with no recess, imagine how the super hyper misbehaving kids would be. Hello, sometimes even the teacher needs the kid to get a "bribe" to be good. If little Billy can stop cursing the teacher out, slapping girl's behinds, and throwing spit wads, because he gets a stickers for having a good day ,give him the damned sticker already .that way the teacher can go home and not empty a bottle of vodka to unwind. 5. I believe in academics and I am always blabbing about more rigor and academics in school...heck I am writing a book about it (been om hiatus for 4 months, so what). But academics and rigor needs balance and options and ways to help all learners and encourage learning ,blablabla .so when I inquired about music or art programs ,I was told they did not have them. Ok sure, my state is like that, they cannot afford an elementary art teacher but on those rare easy days, or for Lincoln's birthday or whatever, you make a macaroni Lincoln or you fingerpaint a pretty picture ,right? Sorry, no .at this school even that was seen as non academic and thus not allowed ever.

Thursday, July 5, 2012

ay chihuahua

...said the housekeepers.°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°
So as we have been in a hotel for what....3 weeks now? They have housekeepers who come daily to get new towels, empty the garbage ,etc. They did only garbage yesterday and the housekeepers "forgot" half the trash. Add that to the fact that my son was so ill for the past few days that I didn' t even shower, and well...the tidyness of the room was not a priority.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°Today they come in and my son is napping so I stay while they clean (which means dirty linens since he was asleep on the bed, boo. I mean at home I go weeks without fresh linens but in a hotel, hello, treat me like a queen!). The housekeeping staff is Hispanic and they start chatting to each other en espanol. Now I am not fluent but I can get the general gist of things and so I was able to comprende their conversation. They said, among other things, "ay chihuahua la basura!". I do have to admit, our basura -garbage- was ay chihuahua worthy, I won't deny that. But they they snicker, jajajaja about my muchachos garbage next to his computer....whic hI secretly, silently jajaja about, because I always tease him about his next. Seriously, you set him down with a laptop and bam! He attracts crap like a magnet ,soda cans, dirty socks, tissues, ripped up receipts.... but anyways the housekeeping kept dissing us for our mess. I did not want to go ahem, habla espanol mamasitas, because then they would be all embarrassed and apologetic and we already did that to the desk staff when they tried to kick us out

.°°°°°°°°so a quick insert about that ,we were going to get a two room room so my father in law could crash with us, but then last minute he decided to not come, in between all this, we had come back from the doctor's and my son was ready for his nap, an sick and miserable ,and they said "umm we need you to move rooms. Now." Hubby got all "no she didn't" on them because he has stayed at these brand of motels probably....seriously...2 entire years in ten years, hell they should name a hotel after him .and we had a sick kid. So he did get all papa bear rowrrrrr on them. And we did not move rooms, my son napped, and when we came back from getting his prescription, we were met with gummy butterfly candy, a handwritten apology, and a teddy bear with a hotel shirt on his little furry bear body. I will post a pic in this blog when I feel like it.

 °°°°°°°°°°°°°°°° so back to the housekeeping, they are nice hardworking ladies and I would probably talk behind my back about my garbage and mess, too...especially if I did not know the people had a very very ill child and so they were like f*ck cleaning. So instead I kind of relished in my knowledge of Spanish because I put it to good use. And now as my son's health is improving, I am leaving the room a little less messy.

Saturday, June 30, 2012

when ya feel the need....

?..to blow sh*t up at 3am, look no further than Indiana my friends! The Hoosier State is East Missouri so to speak, for her plethora of both fireworks and adult entertainment. But just like part II movies, Indiana (East Missouri or Missouri part II) lacks the tetanus causing joy of rusty crap and the 5th grade humor of kum and gos. And Hoosiers don't have adult arcades or adult supermarkets. But yes...Indiana is full of fireworks. TO a person (me)who lives where you aren't even supposed to smoke and drive, its so flammable out, I still flinch to the increasing occurrences of Sh*t is that gunfire? Fireworks episodes in a state full of explosives. Truly, I have heard over 40 fireworks today (who knows, statistically one had to be gun fire) and it just keeps coming.°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°(why do I do these °°°°? Because my tablet and blogger don't understand a break between paragraphs°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°° And as said, when ya feel the need at 3 am to blow sh*t up, there are indeed 24 hour fireworks stores. Man I would pay to see (and photograph!) The clientele at 3am and hear their stories. But alas, since I like sleep, don't like the town of Gary at 3am for its ghetto-scratch that un p.c. term- urban enterprise zones, and am not fond of things that can kill me, I won't go.

Friday, June 29, 2012

50 shades of trazadone

Trazadone is a gray pill used to relieve insomnia, depression, anxiety. I think to think of the plot for 50 shades of gray, one would have to be on a gray pill, trazadone, and probably oxycotin. And then some.°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°OK I like f***ed up plots sometimes and avidly read books about the Holocaust, Khmer Rouge, Abusive under-age arranged marriages, etc, but this....is over the top. I refuse to even read it, which I guess means my opinions are null and void but whatever. I can't stoop to that level. And if you read it and loved it? Whoa. But whatever. The plot is something like, a girl who has never really been in a relationship falls for some hot millionaire dude. He says in order to date her, she must sign a contract where he gets her way with her, and can physically punish her in his torturous room of doom. Insert whips, chains, hatred of women, and lots of orgasms. Wow I just wrote that word. Anyways. Add the f***ed up stereotypical woman thing ofv"I can fix him. Poor little guy was a victim" add in more torture and orgasms, like a Harlequin Romance for serial killers and people that put kittens in dryers and voila. Best seller.°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°OK to be fair, I read V.C. Andrews as a kid. Children in an abusive house forced to live in an attic, some incest, done. That is as Z50-Shades as I could ever get. I am a sucker again for stories about orphanages, drug addicts, concentration camps...mostly cause they somehow end good or at least hopeful, a lesson for humanity, and insight into some f***ed up people. You learn from history not to repeat it, and about resiliemcy of mankind. And incest...ok not my thing but I did feel all grown up reading about s-e-x-y things. Heck my friend who let me borrow the book, and I, were the awkward kids no boys seemed to like. We weren't the freaks of the school, but with thick glasses, hand me down clothes, our noses in a book and our legs all scratched up from tree climbing, we were no Angelina Jolie. So I liked the clandestine part of the book, and if you removed the element of taboo, not very risque. And besides. We both got over the V.C Andrews stage. Most girls went through it ,a sort of 1970s-early 90s rite of passage. 50 Shades is V.C. after watching a 60 hour block of Lifetime, meets that awkward kid who cried a lot and liked to torture dogs and skin squrrels alive and is now in the penn for American Psycho style acts. °°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°And there is a larger than cult following for this crap, and people ADMIT to it ,and they are making a movie and...and...and my head is hung low today in shame towards the future of humanity.

Monday, June 11, 2012

borderin' horderin'

borderin' hoarderin'

it is a buggy, you pervs
see, a buggy.
The show Hoarders scares me, but who doesn't it scare? I had friends growing up whose parents were either hoarders or slobs, with paths through a mess three feet high, no joke. I am betting on slob though, because my friend's cabinets, the color of pine tree trunks, were magically a light maple when I went to visit a friend who moved into the house after the pine-cabinet-slob friends moved out. I complimented the pretty new cabinets they had installed, and was told nope, all they did was clean the cabinets. Eww. Double eww.

One of my mom's many mannequins.
I'll admit she is pretty, she has over
1,000 rhinestones, and is only
part of my mom's collection of both
mannequins and jewelry. Her name is
Liz- the mannequin, not my mom.
 Anyways, my mom is not a hoarder like that, or those you see on TV, but, she is obsessed with yard sale "treasures", jewelry, 1930s stuff, and anything artsy.   And she is obsessed with mementos. This sickness was passed onto me, so I had kept every letter passed to me from elementary on ,every toy I had owned, clothes that no longer fit, every piece of homework...you get the point. I purged my junk and my habit when I went to college, except some stuff I forgot about at home and what, almost 15 years later, its still there. I have nightmares, honestly,where I am back at college in the dorms but keeping every little thing, and I have to move or clean or something and haven't any time and theres just too much stuff....then I wake up .

 So my mom brought three boxes over yesterday. I did actually find my kindergarten report card cool, but that's more from a nerdy teacher perspective. I have no use for 25 yr old dusty books from third grade, and I doubt my son will be into "Are you There, God, its me ,Margaret" but my mom thinks otherwise. I don't need a planner, used, from 2006. I don't need an unused notebook from my frosh year in college. I don't need a used giftbag from 1995. I don't need my student of the month award from1st grade or the free ticket to Knott's Berry Farm, 1991, awarded to me. Apparently, my son will want this stuff, because my mom says so. Also he will totally want my teeth. Yes, my teeth,because my mom has every single baby tooth I ever lost plus my letters to the tooth fairy. Since Santa never ate the milk and cookies, obeyed my wish list, or wrote me back, the tooth fairy filled the gap. My mom was all pouty and said fine,she'd keep my teeth and tooth fairy letters because my son will indeed want them. My mom says there is something wrong with me since I do not keep momentos. She said she kept her first boyfriends cigarette butt for over 20 years, yet I am the one with a screw loose. Lose? Loose? Loo-s not loo-z. Anyways. She has kept every single doodle I have EVER done, fro mage 3 on . And lemme tell you, I was a doodle fiend and probably drew at least 5 things a day, no joke ,as I recall at age 4 I had insomnia one night and drew unicorns until midnight. What the hell do I need 100 dusty unicorn scribbles for? Yes. Yes I ended up with, well, not 5 boxes of unicorns but a booklet of awesome 4 year old drawings. I knew at the very least, not only would I end up with 3 boxes of "precious mementos" (I was able to "return" one for my mom to keep because I was banned from tossing it) and some good blogging opportunities.
drugs are bad m'kay? As I see it, the octo-armed person riding the bees is
smoking drugs, he's on the right, and there is a psychadelic
spiderweb monster plant growing in the sunshine on the left.
This is why parents should not smoke.

I see a teddy bear don't you? He has sideways limbs, boxing gloves, and....I dunno
the rest of it.

Government Health Care

government health care

QI dread it. DMV and the IRS suck, so healthcare will. Last time I had to go to the DMV (triple A is so worth the money btw) I waited in line to, guess what, wait in the check in line. See we had a car without plates. For a year. Only DMV could fix it. After baffling the check in guy with my scenario, I was directed to fill out a form...no pens available of course...and wait in line again. While waiting to finally get service (like bingo, c'mon B16 at window 5, no....B 19 at window 5 may you be cursed!) I decided to use the restroom. I went in and you couldnt hear your bingo call so I came back out, doing the potty dance only to be called and told to fill out more forms, pay $40 for replacement plates (see I did get plates, lets say it was 1abc234 but the accompanying paperwork claimed they wrre 2 ACD234 and i mailed them back and DMV lost the mail after confirming it was recieved) and be told to come back once the 40$ that was NOT my responsibility, I didnt give the wrong plates or lose them. Pissed off and full of piss, I used the restroom. Great. The lock on the door was broken and their was no soap. The government wants torun our healthcare but cannot keep a sanitary bathroom. Then I just called IRS and waited on hold for 25 minutes. The man who finally answered spoke vveerryy sslloowwllyy. The IRS tax code is the longest book in the world. So all I needed to do was ask for a direct debit form to pay taxes. It took, after the 25 minute wait, an additional 20 minutes. He explained form 13,768.908 C and its intricacies as opposed to form 13,798.907C part A andI thought, with something this confusing, what if they accidentally send me 17,758.907C paet B? Would I know the damn difference? I mean if the DMV can incorrectky transcribe my plates, lose them, and charge me, what couldthe IRS do in an oopsy situation? Suddenly I could have the IRS version of men in black, all swat style, staking out my house, pricing my dandelion weeds perpound as part of their collection plans. I DONT want to end up in prison. I failed as a college room mate and I dont find big bertha cute enough to drop my soap for, and I doubt prison would be gluten free and organicfriendly, so I would just poop my brains out in the floor pit toilet for all eyes to see. Because see you dont mess with the IRS because who is to be believed, a petite glasses wearing prisoner who poops too much, or the power wielding IRS. Which is why health care scares me. I already have to schedule doctor apointmentd SEASONS ahead of time, and spend 3 hrs at the hospital obly to seethe doctor for 3 minutes. It CAN get worsefolks. I think of national geographic, where you see a bus with people on the roof, standing on the bumper, sitting atop one another....slap on an ambulane sticker voila ER care. You arrive, hop off the roof and standin line. You think disneyland has long lines? A water park on a 100 degree holiday weekend? You aint seen nothing yet. 3 Hours later you get to a desk to fill out a form and theyre out of English. Sprechen ze deutch? Habla espanol? Whatever Tingrinya, Ilocano, Kazakh? Missing your hands in an industrial accident? Too bad fill out the form please, no hands is no excuse, policy says fill out the form. Sit down. Use phone to call 1-800-URSCREWD . If you are blind press 86. If you are deaf press 735. If you are missing limbs dial 62. If you are bleeding profusely dial 93 but do not wet the phone or the call will terminate. If you are having a heart attack, Boo! Ha! Scared you! Dial 037. Please enter your student id number from 3 rd grade and the marriage date of your great uncle's2nd cousin. Im sorry we are closed our office hours are 10am to 2pm every other tuesday, pleasecall back with your emergency during business hours. If by chance it is businesshours, you are let in to wait in line c. As you reach the line c desk gal, she informs you this is the lost limb line and you had a heart attack, please resubmit your paperwork and proceed to line f. You do that and see a doctor and well, they lost your paperwork and cannot treat you, they dont know your name or symptoms. You provide it and since they dont have the paperwork, they cannot believe you so you are referred to a regional office 300 miles away to process your heart attack claim. Or, to reflect on unemployment, which claimed I had my wrong social security number. Twice. When I own my freaking card. Same number for over 30 years. They then make me go to the social security office (Hey, Amber, your favorite place) to "proove" I am who I am. Then, my proof gets lost. I have to again go to social security, get proof, and something along the lines of blood type, name of my first grade teacher, age of menstruation, food log from Tuesday, birth certificate, umbilical cord, afffadavit from my boss 3 years ago..... they get the proof. I'm set, unemployment here I come! Except that they lose my continuing claim twice, so when I began filing in May, it is September until I get any money. Then, you call unemployment and it's all, bienvenido a del programo del empleo. If you wish to continue in English, press 1. I know America doesn't have a national language, but its unofficially English. To gain citizenship you have to freaking speak English. The citizenship test, most native born Americans cannot pass. So why is it assuming I speak Spanish first, then have to indicate, no, no, I speak English? Why are possible non-citizens, since, well, they can't understand the English needed for citizenship, getting priority treatment and benefits? (And yes, I speak Spanish and French so I do believe Americans should be multilingual. But America speaks English FIRST.) Then you get some long lengthy bla bla bla message about some change in the law. Then, a menu of "press 1 for yes. Press 2 for no. To repeat the question, press 8." But the recorded voice says it slow. With pauses. As if I'm a freaking moron. And ok I've called in for a year. I think I know by now, 1 is yes, 2 is no, 8 is, I no speaky inglesh, i be too dumb to done understand y'all, or, sometimes in my case, must shut up screaming baby. Because see, ok, if the question is asked and I know 1 is the "answer" I should be able to, after hearing it 52 times, press 1 at any time. But no, I must wait for 2, and 8. And then if I do not press my selection with hair-second-trigger efficiency, RIGHT THEN!!! It threatens to end my call for no response. So any smart person slams the 1 button. But no. It repeats the entire question and 1,2,8 prompt. So I imagine health care, after you press 8-2 on the health care phone system, it goes... "if you are having a heart attack, press 1. If you are having heart pain but no attack, press 2. If not sure, press 3. If you are instead missing a limb, press 4. To repeat the question, press 5. " So I mean you're having a HEART ATTACK so you quickly press 1! 1! I'm dying! heart attack! I'm sorry, your response could not be read. Press 1 if.... and 5 to repeat. oh crap! pain! wretching pain! can't move! I'm sorry but you were to make a selection, Please call back another time. RRRRRR (dial tone.)

Babies R Us is Evil

Why Babies R Us is Evil

Babies R Us is irksome. Why?

1. They won't hold an object unless you've paid for it in full. So, you know, if you have pregnancy/new mom brain and forgot your ATM card or whatever, and NEED an item, too freakin' bad.

2. The bathroom is waaaaay at the back, so for pregnancy potty emergencies,poopy barfy babies, etc.....ick.

3. More with the bathroom, I have lots of complaints here..... the door has handles so that you have to put your hand on the same handle that grimy sick kids that didn't wash their hands after #2 have touched. Nope, no paper towels to use as buffers either.

4. The blow dryers are demon spawn and whoosh at 1,000,000 decibels. You cannot even hear the person next to you, screaming, it is so loud. This shares the sh!t out of infants. Smart, real smart...Babies R Us.....

5. No free or even pay-for wipes or diapers. Hello, way to sell a product " complimentary Babies R us Brand wipes! Check the boxes of them out on aisle 3, super absorbent, soft, non-allergenic". Nope it is like a poopy baby nightmare, if you forget wipes or diapers you are screwed, and it isn't like you can rush to the cashier for a purchase since the cashier is half a mile away.

6. Which reminds me, they chronically understaff so that you have 10 moms with cranky kids in line.

7. The workers are extremely unhelpful. I can first of all, wander around the store with the where the f**k is _____ look that most store employees recognize, and after 10 loops of the store, still get no help. Then when/if I finally find someone, well, I might as well ask the muttering hobo outside for help to find something, he'd be of more service. "excuse me, miss, where do you keep bottle nipples?" "well umm, errr, um.... kinda....the west side of the store?" (Thanks, I only have to navigate 1/4 of the store now, thanks for the help.) Or, when you're in a rush with a cranky toothing kicking baby, or near the end of your pregnancy, waddling, completely brain dead, you say, "excuse me miss, I need to find some...d....it starts with D, goes on a baby butt, for poop and pee, a d.... it's plasticy, you throw it away when poopy, a d....." and they say "hmm, I don't know what you're talking about. A pair of snow pants? Vitamin D? Gas-Ex? Hmm the pants are, err...hmm... well they're NOT in the crib section..."  Which is why I like Lowes. Go in there and say "I'd like a thingy to put together the thingy that makes my door open and shut" and they'll walk you to the aisle, the specific item's place, and discuss the pros and cons of each item if you inquire. No "umm, well, ummm" there.

8. Selection. Look at their online store and it is a virtual smorgasbord of everything baby! Fill up that baby registry, mama, there's a cute bear paw crib set and a sparkly baby bottle set and omg, they have the cutest..... oops, sorry, not sold in stores, online only. Out of stock. Only available in a store 3,000 miles away. When you have online-inept older relatives, or simply people that like to go to a store and manually pick something out, or just don't want to pay for shipping, or remember you're pregnant when you're in labor so they need to get you stuff NOW, you are....screwed. They seem to only stock the ugly, soo-last-season, may-cause-cancer and choking items in the store.

9. Join their little club, get a discount card and coupons, yes!!! Except the coupons are only for one brand of diapers, detergent, and formula. So if you breast feed, cloth diaper, or just like a cheaper or different brand of detergent, formula, diaper, boo hoo. Then occasionally you're surprised with a 20% off one item coupon, score!!! Except... it has a disclaimer, "does not apply to......" and there is a very tiny lettered, very lengthy list that eliminates virtually every product brand in the store, plus any item already discounted. So if you really want, you might use that coupon for 20% off a $1 barley and okra flavored teething biscuit that even the dog won't go near.

10. I will give it to them that they have cute (albeit overpriced) clothing. The exhorbitant price ($32 for a pant and shirt set, for an infant, that will destroy it right before he grows out of it in two months???) is not the catch. The catch is, no matter what the age and gender of your baby, you will not find a single cute and/or discounted item for them. Anywhere. Ever. Did your one year old just spill chocolate milk all over the only shirt you brought with you? Well unless you want him in a sparkling pink frilled spaghetti strap onesie, or a 3T boy's shirt, well, chocolate milk just might have to be en vogue for today.

You might wonder, after this post, why you saw me at Babies R Us today. Scoff as you may, tsk tsk, but the one problem is, Babies R Us is a one stop shop. Instead of having to go to Target for the diaper pail refills and wipes, then 15 minutes away to Sams for diapers, the organic grocery another 15 minutes away for the jarred food, etc etc...you're stuck going to, voila, Babies R Us. And who has time to dash about the entire county for baby items?

Last thing, I had forgotten to mention. When I found a cute and on sale crib, I paid for it but left it there "on hold" since I was in a non-crib transportable vehicle that day. I go back the next day, pick it up, come home, go in to help hubby put it together (ok, I'm mechanically challenged, so I hold the nuts and bolts for him) and what the heck? Either this crib is a new style or, I am missing an entire SIDE of the crib. Yep, my box contained a three sided crib. I had to go back, explain my predicament to a bunch of different employees and managers (they seemed to think I was lying about a missing crib side?) before they finally believed me and had to order a new crib, which took two weeks. Man, had I been my usual procrastinating self, I'd be all, "honey, my water broke...can we go buy a crib on the way to the hospital?" and I've had had a drawer baby. Yep, my child would have been sleeping in the dresser drawer for two weeks.