Thanks to Her Bad Mother for tagging me to do this meme and saving me from having to think of a real post today!

In true lemming fashion, I present my answers to the A-Z meme:

Accent(s): Standard clear US English (think national newscasters) with a touch of southern occasionally, and some British pronunciations of certain words. On command, I can do a perfect BBC British accent, as well as a cockney accent.

Booze of Choice: Currently Smirnoff Ice Black Cherry – I swear it tastes like cherry Jell-O. Yum. Also fond of strawberry daiquiris and tangerine wine.

Chore I Hate: All of them? I’d say cleaning out the litterboxes is the worst. Cleaning the bathrooms is pretty icky too, but lucky that’s Aaron’s chore, not mine.

Dog or Cat: We have two Siamese cats that I adore. HBM is right – they are like dogs in cat bodies. Someday we may get a dog – if so I’d lean towards a Boxer or a Weimaraner, and Aaron leans towards a Lab.

Essential Electronics: Digital camera, iPod, cell phone. When Cordy’s awake, the laptop is a necessity: if I try to check something on my computer, she throws a fit.

Favorite perfume(s)/cologne(s): None – most of them stink and give me a headache. Maybe I’d like them better if I didn’t grow up around so many people in my town who bathed in the stuff. I do like the aromatherapy line from Bath & Body Works.

Gold or silver: White gold

Hometown: Born in Columbus, OH. Grew up in Washington Court House, OH.

Insomnia: Not since having a child. Now, given the chance, I can sleep anytime.

Job Title(s): Lady Who Cordy Won’t Call Mommy, Chief Litterbox Cleaner, Student Advisor

Kids: At the moment, just the one. But she can feel like two sometimes.

Living Arrangements: New 2-story house with a large backyard.

Most Admired Trait: I have no idea what trait others admire in me. I’d guess my capacity for having sympathy for others. Or maybe its my ability to be realistic, which some appreciate and some hate.

Number of Sexual Partners: Currently? One.

Overnight Hospital Stays: Two – one to have my tonsils out as a child, and the other was for my c-section when I had Cordy.

Phobia: Flying, spiders, and looking like a total moron.

Quote: “Hope for the best. Prepare for the worst.” -a fortune cookie

Religion: Universalist, I think. I believe there is truth to be gained from all religions, and it all boils down to “Be nice to each other.”

Siblings: One sister who passed away shortly after she was born, and one half-sister, who I don’t speak to often.

Time(s) I Wake Up: I’m nearly always awake between 7-8am, although I usually wake up earlier when I hear Cordy wake up. Aaron takes her in the morning so I can go back to sleep for a bit. See Insomnia, above.

Unusual Talent/Skill: I can name all of the English monarchs in order, and rattle off an entire lecture on 16th century England without even prepping for it. I can view human cadavers without vomiting. Oh, and I can sew complicated 16th century costumes, but can’t install a zipper.

Vegetable I Refuse To Eat: Brussel Sprouts.

Worst Habit(s): Using far too much 80’s slang, like dude and awesome. Picking at my nails.

X-rays: Hands, feet, arms, legs, sinuses, teeth…most of my body, really.

Yummiest Food I Make: No food I make would ever have the title of “yummy” attached to it, unless it was “This is a yummy dinner, compared to eating dirt.”

Zodiac Sign: Gemini or Cancer, depending upon the astrologer (was born on cusp -– June 21). Yes, that makes me special, too. For those of you who follow astrology, it means I’m either an introvert who really wants to be a party girl, or an extrovert who just prefers to stay home.

———————–

Now it’s time to tag some others. Let’s see, I’ll tag Erin, Kristi, and Rhonda.

I caved yesterday and got my own CafePress store. I’m not all that graphically inclined, but I had a few ideas for some shirts, and so I threw a few images together and asked my expert panel (my husband, a few friends) what they thought of them. They liked them, so the store is now open. Besides, if I make a few bucks, maybe I can get to BlogHer this year.

I wanted a shirt that really covered all of who I am, as well as many other mommy (mom, mama, whatever) bloggers out there. If people like the design, I’ll come up with variations and ones for dads as well.

Plus I finally put one of my nicknames for my daughter on a toddler shirt. It’s appropriate for many of our kids, I think.

So, please go check out my store and tell me what you think!

I am unashamed to admit that I watch Nanny 911. Yes, it’s reality trash TV, and I love every minute of it.

I could tell you that I watch it for the parenting tips, so that I can learn their techniques to become a better parent myself. Oh, I could tell you that. But it’s not the truth.

Truth is, I watch it to remind myself that I’m not the worst parent in the world. I feel so much better about my parenting skills after just one episode of Nanny 911. How can you not think you’re not too bad of a parent after watching the people on this show? If Aaron’s home, it’s even worse, because we watch in horror and then say to each other, “Can you believe that? We would never do that!”

Sure, I judge them. Everyone does. It’s something I try not to do in real life, but when you put yourself and your family on national TV, you’re just begging to be judged.

Last night, however, was the first night that a show such as this brought me to tears. Did anyone else see this episode about the Longairc family? They have three kids, and their kids lacked any respect for anyone.

The mother, though, was the worst. While her husband tried to do his best to discipline the kids, she did most of her parenting from the couch as she stuffed her face. She would bark orders at the kids, taunt and tease them, and put them down. And yet she claimed to be a good mother to them.

The part that brought me to tears was when the 6 yr. old daughter was on the couch with her mom. She asked her mom for a hug, and her mom told her no and to leave her alone. The little girl persisted, and so the mom dragged the girl into her room and punished her. All for asking for a hug! As the little girl cried in her room, her mom yelled to her that she was being a baby.

When you’re sitting on the couch doing nothing, and you refuse your daughter a hug and instead push her away, you’re a bad parent in my book. I wanted to reach through the TV and give that poor little girl a hug myself. So, so sad.

Edit: The worst part of the show was the end, when it was clear that the mom had no intention of changing her ways, because she was so in denial about being a bad parent. She thought she was doing a fine job. I hope the dad and these kids can keep working on things even though she’s so useless.

Deciding I hadn’t punished myself enough yet, we ventured out to the mall to go to another Stride Rite to look for shoes. This one is larger and had a better stock, so I thought we’d have better luck in finding shoes for an extra-wide, extra-tall toddler foot.

Apparently every other mom in a tri-county radius had the same thought as me. We signed in and waited. And waited. And waited some more. Cordy rearranged the shoes on the shelf in reach over and over in that obsessive habit toddlers have.

When it was our turn, I had four pairs ready to go, and I already knew her size. I thought I was saving the sales associate time. She still insisted on measuring Cordy’s foot. Cordy, in her usual manner, protested being messed with. The sales associate made a comment about Cordy’s chubby feet, then went back to find shoes.

After some time, she returned with two boxes. She explained that she didn’t think Cordy’s foot would fit in three of the styles I picked out, so she brought the fourth and another style she thought would work better. While I was a little disappointed that three of the styles were nixed before we even tried them, I trusted her expertise.

As we tried on shoes, Cordelia whined, cried, and occasionally kicked. When we would set her down to check the shoes, she’d try to run away. As we tried on the second pair, this exchange happened:

Me: Sorry, she’s being a brat today.

Sales Associate: (said with far too much enthusiasm) Why, yes she is!

Me: *blink* Wha?

SA: She does seem to be a cranky child. (then, to Cordy, who is still throwing a fit) Are you like this all the time?

Me: Uhm…we’ll just take these two pairs.

I wish I was making this up. Of course, after we had left the store I thought of all sorts of things I should have said back to that woman. Did I underreact? Should I have been more offended in the moment? I mean, I suppose she could have been joking, but there was no smile on her face as she said it. And I was too stunned to ask for clarification.

I told Aaron about it, and he wondered why I even bought the shoes. I bought them because I had been waiting forever, and she’s impossible to fit, and I wasn’t coming back out to go through all of this again for at least 3 months.

So, to everyone who works retail, I say: please don’t be honest. If a mom is having a bad day with her child, don’t confirm what she already knows. It only makes the mom feel even worse, and for those moms who aren’t as mild-mannered as I am, it could turn ugly for you. Real fast.

Since Cordy had to endure the torture of the doctor’s office today, I decided to trade in my good mommy points for some lazy day TV time. Two shots has got to equal two hours of TV time, right? Besides, we both needed some time to recover from the trauma of the doctor’s office: on the couch, with some Motrin for each of us (her thigh, my head), a juice for her, a soda for me.

(What, you thought I was going to say an alcoholic beverage? Nah, I prefer to drink off-duty.)

At one point, one of the characters on Oobi (talking hands, for those who haven’t seen it) was dressed as a wolf, well, as dressed as a talking hand can be, and was menacing another dressed as Little Red Riding Hood.

Cordy, now in front of the TV and enraptured with the talking hands, put her hands on top of her head, and exclaimed, “Ooooh nooooo!”

The sound that followed was a thump as I fell off the couch in laughter. Cordy spun around to look at me, and started laughing as well, sensing it was the right thing to do. She then gave a repeat performance, which sent me into fits of giggles again.

Why is this so funny, you ask?

Remember Mr. Bill, the clay man with bad luck on SNL? Cordy can say “Oooh noooo!” in exactly the same voice. Yes, my child is channeling Mr. Bill, and I couldn’t be prouder. Or more amused.