Who Am I?

Well, inquisitive reader, let me answer. I am a wife, a mom and I have chronic bad hair. I like made uppy words and Unnecessary Capitalization. If you know who the guy in the bottom right picture is, you're probably my best friend. Also, I own several Edward dolls which I write about HERE. No, I don't use drugs. By the way, if your love canned tomatoes, visit my stash HERE.

Friday, July 30, 2010

Keyboard Confessions: the domesticky edition

If you're new around these here parts, I write random lists on Friday.  If you're not new around these here parts, you're just going "get on with it".  Yeah yeah, I hear you.

1.  I am a domesticky goddess.  It's true.

2.  I know this because I have made two loaves of bread this week.

3.  Also, I vacuumed.

4.  So I'm not going to win any awards, you say.  Yeah?  Well what if I tell you I'm about to WASH MY SHEETS.

5.  God, my life can't get any more exciting.

6.  I may have to do some Jillian Michaels.  I did some Jillian a few days ago and it's taken until today for my legs to work again.  No, I'm really not exaggerating.

7.  Guess what?  Jillian has no breasts.  I know this because she keeps demanding I do these ridiculous things called "jumping jacks".  Psh.  As if!!  Round these here parts we call those "holy cow where's the duct tape?"

8.  Also, I'm hoping the neighbors moved out downstairs.

9.  Have I brushed my teeth today?  Hmm.  I may be a domesticky goddess, but I'm not so good at remembering the inane like teethbrushing and what date it is.

10.  Also, I need to figure out a way to slice my homemade bread without looking like it's been through a bakery massacre.

11.  Today is National Cheesecake Day.  And if you're near a Cheesecake Factory, slices of cheesecake are half-price with dine in.

12.  Guess where I'm headed tonight?

13.  Also, if I don't get out of the house soon, I might start doing something SERIOUSLY DOMESTICKY like clean my bathtub.


15.  *weep*  I'm so bored.

16.  It's a good thing my kids fight nonstop.  *not*  At least they keep me awake.

17.  Also, I'm preparing for a vlog.  My first ever.  Because I know you're all desperate to catch a glimpse of me.  Especially where I demonstrate how to locker hook.  Not that kind of hook.

18.  Man I super need to brush my teeth.  It's a good thing I just ate some pepper jack cheese.  Such a mouth enhancer.

19.  I feel like Jesus in the beginning of that videospoofthingy.  "Just one moment of peace...please."  What videospoofthingy, you ask?  This one:

20.  AHAHAAHAHAHAAH  *wipes eyes*  oh man, that's classic.

Happy...what day is it?  Cheesecake Day?  Happy Cheesecake Day.

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

I Admit It, I'm A Dork: A Guest Post from Confessions From a Working Mom

If you don't read Elizabeth from Confessions from a Working Mom, I might just have to break up with you.  Because she's awesome.  As a former Working Mother who used the same exact work phone as Elizabeth, I felt an immediate kinship with her and was so excited that she's going to be hanging out with us, here at the Tomato Pad.  Lend her an ear, or an eye, and show her the lurve!

Elizabeth of Online PhD:

There are two types of people in this world.

The first type includes people like my husband. They are the people who dreaded the first day of school. They're the ones who counted down until the clock struck 3pm and the dismissal bell rang. They're the ones who wished winter vacation would never end.

Then there are those who have their first day of school outfit picked out before summer break ever starts. They're the ones who have their term papers written two weeks before they're due, and always study in study hall.

I fall into that second category.

I've always been what you would call "a dork". In fact, many times I have been called a dork. I've also been called a nerd, a geek, and a brown-noser. I've recited the phrase "sticks and stones may break my bones, but names will never hurt me" so many times that I should have it tattooed on my upper arm.

But despite that, it still struck me as odd when I began having alarmingly nostalgic pangs for my old academic days.

It started when I took a new way home from work a few weeks ago. This is a route that takes me directly through a college campus in the town where I live. It's not where I went to school, but there were enough similarities to trigger some deep-seated emotions.

On my drive, I could see the fluorescent lights of the dormitory hallways shining even in the midst of summer break, when it was likely that not a single soul was in the building.

I could see the stoic lecture halls, vacant for the summer, awaiting the return of the giants of academia in the fall.

I could see the pristine campus quad, with acres and acres of finely manicured grass, which will be trampled on in criss-cross patterns when students return in the fall.

And, as I saw all this, I felt a lump rise up in my throat. It was a lump that told me, "This is where you belong."

I'm really not sure if that lump wanted me back on campus as a student (I've always dreamed of earning my Ph.D. in something completely engaging and utterly useless, like theology or philosophy) or as a professor (I already have a masters degree in communications, so I could teach as an adjunct member of the faculty). I'm not sure if that lump simply wanted me to pull the car over to the side of the road and walk the hallowed university grounds. I just had this all-consuming feeling that the campus setting is where I belong, and where, ultimately, I will end up.

What happens to a dream deferred? Langston Hughes pondered this very question, and the truth is, I don't know. I think we all have dreams, goals we'd like to accomplish, but we put them off. Now isn't the right time. I'll get around to doing that later. But why? Why do we put ourselves-- and our aspirations-- on hold?

I'm not sure how long it will take me to get there. I'd really like to finish paying off the degrees I already have (which, if my calculations are right, won't be until my daughter is a sophomore in college) before I apply for FAFSA yet again. But I know I'll get there.

So, the next time you think about calling me a dork, remember this: I may be your child's English 101 instructor some day. That's Professor dork to you!

Elizabeth is a content writer for Online Schools and Online MBA, who gives advice on the pursuit of education and living a healthy life. In her free time, she enjoys chasing after who toddler, who is usually chasing after the dog, who is usually chasing after the mailman. You get the idea.

~* Visit Me Online *~
BLOG: http://confessionsfromaworkingmom.com
TWITTER: @IAmConfessing

Tuesday, July 27, 2010

Lessons in frugality: The homemade laundry soap edition

So, now that this sister is hanging out at home full time, I figured I'd do what I could to reduce our overhead.  Because I'm nice that way.  Also, I'd rather buy cake then pay for spendierish things.  Like laundry soap.

If you throw a cyber rock here on the innernets, you'll find a blogpost that talks about how to make homemade laundry soap.  My personal favorite is this awesome ladyfriend and her post on the abovereferencedthingIjustsaid.

I trolled the Walmarts and found these items:

*Three bars of Ivory soap.  It was like, idk, somewhere around $1.09 for all three.
*Borax.  Our Walmart carries it, but some don't.  But they were out so I had to troll the Safeway aisles and I suspect they're highish, so I spent around $5.49 for this big ole box.
*Arm & Hammer Washing Soda.  Also at my Walmart.  But surely at some randomish store near you should your Walmart not be as cool as mine.  It will be in the Detergent aisle.  I spent around $2.49 for this.

So I spent in total somewhere around $8.00ish dollars.

You'll also need:

*A bowl.  Color need not matter.  You can relax on that.
*Cheese grater.  Or a fancypants food processor.  I am not fancypants.
*Air tight container.  I used one I just had around the house, because I'm resourceful like that.
*Measuring Cups.  Which is not pictured.  Because I forgot.  Alas.

So first thing you'll need to do is grate a bar of soap.  It's way easy.  It took like, 47 seconds.  I'm just guessing because I didn't actually time myself or anything but dude, the point is, it's way easy.  I just said that.

See?  Easy peasy grated soapy.  Now add in the Borax and Washing Soda and mix well.  I just chucked mine into the container, closed it up and pretended I was playing the maracas.  Look, it's kind of boring around here.  I gotta make my own fun.


1 bar of grated Ivory soap (or some crazy kind called Fels-Naptha that I didn't feel like hunting down)
1/2 cup Borax
1/2 cup Arm & Hammer washing soda

Use 1 Tablespoon for each load.

Aaaaand voila.  You've got your homemade powder laundry soap.  

Now because I had 3 bars of Ivory Soap, I tripled my recipe which gave me this bounty:

So as time goes on, I'll probably add to my bounty with more batches, because I'm psycho and like to see a full container.  And the soap bars are all I'll need for eons because there's still tons left in the Borax and Washing Soda.

**This recipe does not suds up.  So don't be alarmed if you don't see giant soapy bubbles in your washing machine.
**This recipe also doesn't give the clean-laundry-smelly-good-perfumy-fragrance that most commercial laundry soaps have.  So don't be alarmed if the first few days you find yourself shoving socks into your spouse's face going "Does this smell clean?  I can't tell if it's clean. What do you think?" You can always add a few drops of essential oils to your batch.
**You can add bleach if you feel like you need to, just be careful to not mix it with something that will make a ka-boom, like vinegar.  Also, I'm assuming it makes a ka-boom.  I've not yet tried it.  Homeschool project, anyone?  Just kidding.  Maybe.

You can also make liquid homemade laundry soap if you're into the liquid thing.  I found a great site here that has 10 recipes.

Supposedly this stuff lasts for months at a time.  And if you do complicated Pythagorean Theorem mathematics I'm probably averaging somewhere around 4 cents a load.  Or something.

Happy Laundering.

Monday, July 26, 2010

Monday is a royal pain

All right stop, Collaborate and listen
Ice is back with my brand new invention
Something grabs a hold of me tightly
Flow like a harpoon daily and nightly
Will it ever stop? Yo! I don't know
Turn off the lights and I'll glow
To the extreme I rock a mic like a vandal
Light up a stage and wax a chump like a candle.
--Things the Queen would never say, or rap...probably

Friday, July 23, 2010

Keyboard Confessions

Every week I sit down and confess some things.  Mostly this is just an excuse to write a list.

1.  My Hubs is home.  I am soooo glad.

2.  But wait, you're saying, I didn't even know he was gone!  I know, confusified reader.  It's because I kept that little snippet of info to myself.

3.  Hello, I had just moved to a random town in a new state precisely 900 bajillion miles away from Alabama, live in this crowded complex and was going to be home alone with my two kids.  I totally wasn't going to alert the possible killer neighbor that I was spouseless for 10 whole days, was I?

4.  Of course, now the possible killer neighbor can just come and kill us whilst my Hubs is home.  I hadn't thought of that...

5.  Well, don't worry, worried reader.  I tried to bake some zucchini bread to share with my immediate neighbors, you know, to make them like me and not kill me and hate my kids because they jump instead of walk and stuff, only we live a whole mile above sea level and so therefore my zucchini bread was zucchini bricks.  So, I can always toss a brick at any creepified neighbor.

6.  Seriously, I had to shave the outer layer of the loaf to even find something soft enough to nibble.  Also, because both loaves were not giveable, I had to nibble both loaves.

7.  I bought some shorts.  I know, I'm shocked at my crazy behavior too.

8.  Except, guess what?  The zipper was broken in one of the pairs only I didn't know it until AFTER I came home from an afternoon spent at Chick-fil-A.  I know.  It's a good thing I was wearing bright colored panties so the whole restaurant could see them whilst I was asking for a refill of Diet Coke.

9.  Humility.  Thank you, God, for reminding me to heed my mother's advice and wear clean underwear.

10.  Hubs is home.  This means that I have three people to clean up after now instead of two.  It's a good thing he's so cute and I'm so glad he's home.

11.  No one is digging my Ode.  Except for a few sweet friends, including my awesome friend Marisa, who wrote this awesome short story.  She's way going to be famousy one day, folks.  You just wait.

12.  I've been to our library now three times in one week.  It's like I don't have a life or something.

13.  Also, it's possible I was a wee bit over zealous with my newly acquired library card.  There are seven books on my bedside table.  Seven.  It's like I don't have a life or something.

14.  De ja vu.  It's like I've said that before or something.

15.  I don't know how to do that cute little mark above the de ja vu.

16.  There's an IKEA six hours from me.  I way need to make a road trip.

17.  Anyone speak Swedish?

18.  Also, I hear they pass out meatballs.  This is good.  Now I can just spend my food money on more furniture.

19.  Also, how do you say "Oh man, you got any Febreze?" in Swedish?

20.  Time to go eat a burger.  My life is practically a novel in it's utter coolness.

Peace out, yo.

Thursday, July 22, 2010

Ode to a Mattress: the tale of a disgruntled and very sleepy princess

This here is my entry to the Merry Sisters of Fate's contest which is a written piece stemmed from this prompt:

The Princess and the Pea.  I chose an Ode.  Because I do love me some Odes.  Here goes.

Oh you pile of mattresses--
You're mocking me, taunting me with elusive sleep.
I lay all sweetly, with my arms all neatly crossed over my chest.  
Breath all zenlike and close my eyes.  
Ugh.  I toss and turn.
Counting sheep and rearranging covers on my reclined body.
One leg in, one leg out.
Dang.  Shouldn't've had that Diet Coke for dinner.  
I turn on my side, hoping for sleep to steal over me like that one girl,
what’s her name…
Oh yes, Sleeping Beauty.
Where, oh where is a loom with a sharp spindle thingy when you need one?
I flop on my stomach and stuff my face into my pillow.
Down feathers cram their way into my nose
causing a serious sneezing fit.
Exhausted, I lie on my back.
What is that?
Something is digging into my left shoulder blade.
I must find it.  I must find it now.
I must eradicate it, just like I did to that pimple on my forehead.
I climb on hands and knees towards the ladder
perched precariously against my stack of mattresses.
Swinging my legs around and climbing down
on bare toes totally makes me feel all gymnasticsy.
I pass each mattress on my downward trek, all twenty of them.
Quilts of various squashiness and sheets 
sticking out like lettuce on a sandwich.  
Man, I could go for a late night grilled cheese.
I reach the bottom and crouch down on the floor,
trying to peer into the cracks betwixt fabric and mattress.
Somewhere is a Thing.  Surely it’s an orange.
I must perform bedsheet surgery and locate It.
A Princess must have beauty sleep, after all.
At least, that's what Cosmo tells me.  
Not to mention the article about 14 ways to kiss a boy.
But that's another story.
I shove my arm between mattresses and grope with my fingers.
Aha!  There It is!
Grasping It between my fingers, I trap It in my vise of a hand,
draw It out.
It’s...a pea.
A tiny green pea.
What my mother, The Queen, would properly name as
an English Pea.  Because she's way proper like that.
What to do with The Thing?
I cross the room and place it on the windowsill.
It’s far away from my bed- er, beds.
Perhaps now I might get some stinking sleep.
I climb the ladder, toss myself on my pillow.
My eyes close and I slip off to the Land of Nod
and dream.
Of Prince William feeding me...peas.

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

Who I write like

So yesterday, I was reading my buddy and pal, Elegant Bloggery, where she listed a link you could use to find what famousy writer you write like.

I was game.

So I clicked the link, submitted the first page of my meager book and this is what it came up with:

I write like
Stephen King
I Write Like by Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing!

I kid you not.  I know.  I'm in shock, too.

Anyhow, this made me really happy.  Perhaps I can do this writing thing after all.

This post is brought to you in conjunction with Leigh vs. Laundry and The Happiness Project.


Monday, July 19, 2010

Monday is a royal pain

Dude, I really need to go on a diet.  For real.

--Things the Queen would never say

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

Kearsie The Hermit

It's been so long since I was a stay at home mom that I've forgotten what it's like to be a stay at home mom.  I totally feel out of sorts.

For the past almost three years, I was a working mom/come home and do laundry until midnight mom.  I felt continual guilt because I hadn't played Barbies and Pictureka with my kids enough.  I didn't fawn on The Hubs enough.  I didn't cook or bake or what have you...enough.

And now I'm back at it, as one of those at home moms.  And I'm clueless as to what to do.  There's only so much housework until you go crazy and become a Mommy Dearest screaming at your kids for using wire hangers.

I'm writing now.  Like writing writing.  Did you know that?  That I harbor this quasi-secret dream of being a writer?  Somedays, I convince myself I'll rock it and pump out this book and things will be totally peachy because I'll be able to afford a Dyson.  And then somedays I sit and stare at my computer thinking, what the crap are you thinking?

Today's a good day.  I managed to write two pages.  Big deal, you scoff.  Hey, you try putting sludge from your brain on cyber paper and then you can tell me it's no big deal.

But what I really want to talk about today is...


I had no idea I was a hermit until we moved here and I went to make zucchini bread but lacked about fifteen ingredients because, hello, we just moved here.

And suddenly the idea of trolling the aisles at the Walmarts was so...too much.

As I sit, I'm in my PJs and it's near noon.  I'm trying to muster myself from my chair to get me and the fam ready to attempt the library.  This is a big deal because it's in another town and I've never been there before.

This is different than laziness.  This is Hermitness.

And heading to the library?  That is huge Anti-Hermitic behavior.

Tell me, do you know what I'm talking about?  Also, what's your favorite flavor of cake?  Because, I think I'm going to reward myself while I'm out for conquering my Hermitness.

Tuesday, July 13, 2010


Dude.  I've practically forgotten how to blog.  And sitting here in my new digs, things just feel all weirdy.

But here's what I've noticed here in the Coloradoes:

1.  Making out with my dishwasher was fun the first time.  Now it's just work.  Kind of like marriage.  Oh snap.

2.  Just kidding, Hubs.  Erm.  Also, little dishwasher detergent cube thingies?  Best invention ever.

3.  Our laptop was stolen within the first like, 17 hours of being here.  Everyone is a suspect.  Even the old lady down the block.

4.  There are people everywhere.  Suddenly, being clothed is a necessity.  Those aren't cows outside those windows.

5.  The Pool:  where I wish I had a Beach Towel Snuggie.

6.  Our garage is reallllllly tiny.  Like, I suspect by the end of the year I'm going to shear the side mirrors right off my car.

7.  We have valet trash service.  I know.  Fancy.  It's ok to be jealous.

8.  We got innernets and cables today.  I almost busted into tears and hugs for the Cable Man.  But I was too busy calming down my kids because...

9.  ...Hello, we live on the top floor.  And apparently my kids only know how to jump, hop or leapfrog to and fro.

10.  I bought all these great vegetables at the Farmer's Market.  Now I just have to actually cook and eat them.  Man, feeling accomplished sure does take a lot of effort.

11.  Locker hooking.  Not that kind of hooking.  The arts and crafts kind of hooking.  I'm doing it.  My kitchen floor will thank me.  Or, my kitchen floor will just be glad to have a buffer for spills and crumbs from the kids.  Either way, I'm on it, kitchen floor.

12.  I can throw a rock and hit a store.  But I shan't throw rocks because it's just way too hot to do much more than turn pages in a book.  Give me until around October.

13.  We tried to feed the neighborhood rabbits some organic carrots.  They were none too impressed.  I'll bet if we threw them chunks of cake they'd be happy.  I know I'd be happy if someone threw chunks of cake into my mouth.  Caaaake.

14.  Carpet under the dining room table.  I know.  I think the apartment owners are stupid too.

15.  I priced a Dyson yesterday.  I might be able to purchase one by the year 2015.  *here's hoping*

16.  We're going to have to buy like, 37 more bookshelves to house all our books.

17.  We're going to have to buy like, 37 more pieces of cake.

18.  I'm going to have to spend like, 37 more hours in the gym.

19.  Dude.  I have *got* to learn to write outside of a list format.

20.  I found my camera and my Edward doll.  He still has his scarf.  Some of you are really happy and some of you are scratching your head.  Just get ready.

Happy...um, what day is it anyways?

Thursday, July 1, 2010

Keyboard Confessions: The Echoey Edition

Every week I sit down and confess some things.  Mostly this is just an excuse to write a list.

1.  So we've loaded up most of our worldly goods into a horse trailer.  My inlaws shall drive said trailer across approximately 47 states to our destination of the great state of the Coloradoes.  I'm fairly certain this means they win My Inlaws Pwn Award.

2.  Dust bunnies:  what apparently has been mating underneath any and all furniture.

3.  I read somewhere that if you ripped up your carpet, swept all the dust into a pile outside your house that the government would call that a toxic waste site.  Guess what?  I'm breathing it right now.  Maybe I should try to get on disability.

4.  Guess what?  When you play approximately 72 episodes of Inspector Gadget for your kids, you begin to lose your mind.  Could he be any dumber?

5.  I found a ton of outdated food in my cupboard.  Mostly it was random things like tuna, but still.  I feel guilty for wasting.  Also, I wonder what happens to old food once it ends up in a landfill?  Sadly, I will think on this subject for years.  I know.  Perhaps it's time to pursue medicinal therapy.

6.  I also found approximately 58 Barbies.  All of them were plasticky nekkid.  It was a bit of a freak show.  Also, their hair?  Ugh.  Seriously, why bother, Mattel?  Wait, is Mattel who puts out Barbies?  I'm so tired, I can't bring myself to Google it.

7.  Confession:  I always spell it Goggle first.

8.  Confession:  when I hear the word Google, I think of that one line in Twilight where Edward snarkily tells Bella she can Google it.

9.  Eclipse.  I went.  I saw.  I ate Twizzlers.  I thought it a great movie.  However, I was so distracted by Bella's wig I almost couldn't bear it.  Seriously.  So.distracted.

10.  If I were Stephenie Meyer, I'd be all, "I am so bigger than M. Night Shamalan and Stephen King.  I'm totes going to make a cameo in each movie.  Get over it, homey."  Also, apparently I think Stephenie Meyer talks like a thug.  It could happen.

11.  It shall be a strange weekend.  All of our stuff will be loaded up and we won't have a thing to do.  If you hear strange maniacal laughing from my corner of the universe, it's because I lost my mind.  Or, I tickled my children to death.  Or, I was watching a Literal Version video.

12.  You don't know what a Literal Version video is?  Seriously, we just might have to break up.  Dude, head to the youtubes RIGHT.NOW. Search for Literal Version videos.  Choose one.  I prefer the Creed one. Pee pee nah nah blah.  Yes I'm making you look it up, haven't I just explained I'm too tired to link junk up?

13.  Also, I feel old school.  Before life handed links out left and right.  Like, 1989 Old School.

14.  I love my Snuggie.  Also, guess what?  I have to fight my kids for it.  Apparently, they love my Snuggie too.  Also, you know what else loves it?  Hair.  It came out of the box bright pink.  Today, after all three of us ladyfolk have passed it around, it's got a brown tinge.  From hair, people.  Also, maybe my hair loss isn't normal.  Is this a clue that I'll be Rogaining it in the near future?

15.  Confession:  I'm pretty sure that me and my Bestie ruined watching Twilight because when Carlisle says to Bella "Enimel etteck", I die.  Hahaahahahahaahah, oh man he slays me with that.  You don't get it?  Well, you're missing out, my friend.  Also, my Bestie gets it.  Don't you, Bestie?  *high five*

16. Omg, it's happening.  I'm losing my mind.

17.  I was going to breathe all deeply and zenlike except my nose is all stuffed up.

18.  My spice rack is so giant it won't fit in any of my boxes.  So annoying.  Idk why I told you that except every now and then it's nice to feed you snippets of Kearsie Trivia.  Now you know, Kearsie has a giant rack. A spice rack, homey.

19.  Today, whilst lolling on my dusty carpet, I balanced a football on one end.  Because of this, I'm fairly certain I can do anything.  Or, that the pile in our carpet is deeper than I thought.  Either one is good.

20.  The next time you hear from me, I'll have crossed into the mountainy area of Coloradoes, and will probably be sitting on a camping chair with my Snuggie.

Happy Friday.
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