ANYWAY, the latest campaign I’ve been participating in is for a product called Lipogen PS Plus. It’s a dietary supplement (in pill form) made with PhosphatidylSerine (PS) and Phosphatidic Acid (PA). These are the brain’s building blocks and you lose them with age. Yippee. This product helps bring them back.

The benefits of Lipogen are as follows:

• Can help improve your power of recall and your ability to learn
• Helps you feel more comfortable in new situations, more optimistic and more upbeat
• Contains natural, soy based active ingredients that have not been genetically modified
• FDA Generally Recognized As Safe since 2006

I initially got on board with this because my hubs is well…very forgetful. I hope he decides to eventually give it a try but for now he has no interest. I was left holding the pill jars and now I’m so goddamn glad I was. In the past three weeks, I have been experiencing better memory recall and way more comfort in new situations (not that I get out much with the twins but you get the idea). I just feel LESS.STRESSED. Even though I’m dealing with the same stressful life (who isn’t, I suppose), it isn’t bothering me quite so much. My “fight or flight” response is triggered far less (if at all) and I’m just happier. I have to assume that the Lipogen is helping. I was way skeptical about the product but now I’m sold.

That being said, my test supply is running low and I needed to buy some more. I have a coupon code (more available, if you’re interested in trying it!) that brings the price down to $22/month, with free shipping. Not bad for less stress and better memory. I was having problems ordering online (www.mylipogen.com), so I called the number listed.

Holy shit. I had the most irritating customer service associate ever. EVER. He kept trying to upsell me on EVERYTHING, and after successfully processing my order (and not the million bottles he wanted me to buy), he wanted me to enroll in some Home Rewards program. The kind where you get 30 days to try out some stupid program for FREE! With a Wal-Mart giftcard to keep! And you only have to cancel within 30 days to not get charged  for the program!

I said no. Many times. Many many times. I finally told the asshole (yeah, he is not longer just a “He” or a “customer service associate”) that I was on the verge of canceling my order and hanging up if he didn’t get off it. I told him he was being incredibly annoying and I hoped to never speak to him again (Yes, I did say this). Finally he took the “No” as “No” and I hung up. After 13 minutes on the phone.

I want you to try this product. I do not want you to deal with this company on the phone, if you can avoid it. If you want to save money on it, let me know and I can get you a coupon code. And if you read this entire thing with no intentions of ever trying it, or caring, then thanks. I’m glad I amused you.

I developed a teething biscuit recipe you might be interested in. Can’t say for sure how many this makes since the number varies each time I make them. Let’s say 19.

Teething Biscuits, Bitches.

Ingredients:

• 3/4 cup whole-wheat flour
• 1.5 cups infant rice cereal (rice or barley)
• 5 TBL butter
• 6 TBL soy milk (regular works fine too, duh)
• 2 TBL sugar
• A few shakes of cinnamon
• Sugar in the Raw (for the tops)

Directions:

1. Put flour, cereal, cinnamon, and sugar into a large bowl.
2. Cut in butter with a fork until the mixture looks like coarse corn meal from Little House on the Prairie.
3. Sprinkle the milk over the top and stir until dough sticks together. Work it with your hands for chrissakes.
4. Knead the dough lightly 15-16 times. NOT 17.
5. Pinch of teaspoons of dough and roll into balls that are 3/4 inches in diameter. Put these on a greased cookie sheet.
6. Flatten balls with the back of a fork dipped in water until the biscuits are about 1/8 inches thickness. Shake a little Sugar in the Raw on top of each biscuit.
7. Bake at 300 degrees F for 30 min. until golden brown. Cool completely and store in an airtight container.

Warning: This post will probably piss you off. You have been warned. Now I’m off the hook.

You know what I like about the “olden days?” Being a parent was actually recognized as the full-time job (at minimum) that it is. You know what I don’t like about the “olden days?” That it HAD to be the woman who sat home all day and magically made the world turn round. And got ZERO help, because supposedly microwave meals made life easier.

This topic has been swirling in my head for months and I just haven’t had the balls to say what I want to say. I have no idea what the FUCK we have done to ourselves in this country, but we’ve gotten to a point where we have kids, simply to say, “Great! Now who can I pay to take care of them so I can go back to work?” As if kids fit perfectly into our life pockets without making any sacrifices to the size and shape of the pocket.

This blows my mind for two distinctly different reasons.

I’m starting to seriously resent how much shit we think we need. How we’ve gotten to the point where two people must  work so they can have their mortgaged home, two iPhones, cable TV, two cars, blah blah blah. In order to maintain a life which is within our “means”, we decide that it’s perfectly fine to dump our kids at daycare all day. Or because we like our jobs and don’t want to sacrifice it to be a parent. Because that’s what everyone else does! To make ourselves feel better, we sometimes call this baby school or something along those lines. We just want our kids to “socialize with other babies.” That’s why we do this! RIGHT? And the cost of this? For my two boys, in small-town Wisconsin, USA, it would be $1400/month.

I understand that most of you are reading this right now and getting seriously pissed off. I WARNED YOU.

If we aren’t throwing kids in daycare because we HAVE TO, in order to LIVE, it’s because taking care of kids is stressful. Yes, it is stressful. There are times when I get so damn tired of this crap that I just want to run away with a giant bottle of whiskey and never come back. But that’s what being a parent IS. IT IS STRESSFUL. What did we think we were getting ourselves into when we decided to have kids? That is was some magical fairyland where we could live our lives, just as we had, with the simple addition of an adorable baby that would never require work?

What really blows my mind is the thought of adding a JOB to the multiple full-time jobs I already have. As if all this isn’t hard enough, why don’t I throw a job into the mix and see how THAT GOES. Now wonder why we’re all so goddamn stressed ALL THE TIME. We never stop. We have given ourselves so many distractions, that raising kids just becomes another thing to do, rather than THE THING. Which it probably should be.

I have no idea how to reclaim what’s been lost. And maybe I’m the only one who wants to? I only know that today is just another day for me. It isn’t the last day of a weekend with the boys before it’s time to wake up, dump them off at daycare, and pick them up again, just to put them to bed. What a life we’ve created in this country. JESUS CHRIST.

In related news, I do think that parents who get to drop the kids off at daycare probably like their kids better, but that’s another post.

I’m married and have twin baby boys…SAY WHAT???!!

Yeah, I’m a big fucking commitment-phobe. Hardcore. I’m kind of like a man. Only on the inside though. NO WORRIES THERE. The fact that I got married again was testament to the fact that I’m either really stupid or really in love. I’m leaning towards the “in love” side of things but I also still believe in Santa Claus so you never know.

Being married this time around was so far removed from the experience of being married the first time (essentially boiled down to doesn’t suck versus very much sucked EVERY FREAKING DAY) that I’m forever thinking things like…”Wow! Having dinner together is fun! Getting complimented on stuff is nice.”

Basically I dig on the marriage part of the life. I am a commtiment-phobe that also happens to be a horrible dater so really, I’m a goddamn mess. The idea of EVER dating again is possibly more terrible than the sound of a spoon scraping a yogurt container. That aside, if my husband ever pulled some Herman Cain shit on me, he would be gone SO FAST. And I have that option, which gives this commitment-phobe some sense of relief. I doubt that would ever happen but I also doubted George W. Bush would get elected to the Presidency twice.

But having kids? Dudes. This throws a monkey wrench into my exit plans. There is NO EXIT PLAN with kids. They are your responsibility forever, on some level. I have no idea where this “For the next 18 years….” business comes from. Because my mother still worries about me when I’m sick and she’s not exactly overbearing. There’s something biological there that guarantees you will forever worry about these  children you made.

I wake up some days and forget for a minute that I have kids. Then I hear the crying from the baby monitor (which is why I’m up at 4 a.m. in the first place) and I’m like, “Oh yeah. BABIES.” Or I’ll have moments where I realize fully what it means to have kids (I wish more people would do this BEFORE THEY GET PREGNANT). That they are going to be hanging out with us for a long time. LONG TIME.

As terrifying as this can be, I’m relieved there is no exit plan. I didn’t have kids for the reassurance that they’ll be wiping my ass someday (because I do not plan to live that long). I didn’t have kids because I felt like I HAD TO HAVE KIDS. I didn’t have kids because that’s part of “the plan” that apparently we all must follow. I didn’t have kids because I wanted a doll to dress up. I didn’t have kids because I wanted to lose myself in something. I had kids completely by accident, which is the only way this would’ve happened. And holy shit, I’m glad it did.

This is pretty much as nice as my posts get. I think I actually had some positive shit laced in there. HURRAY!

THEY ARE NOT PEOPLE. Or “furbabies.” Or babies of any kind, other than animal babies.

Having a baby changes everything. Or so says Johnson & Johnson. Guess what? It’s fucking true. Any person that holds their own child, and then continues to maintain that their DOG is an equal, has issues far beyond any I can ever help with. No amount of weed is going to smoke that philosophy away.

Now that I have REAL babies; the kind I would kill for…die for…do ANYTHING for? It’s a fucking joke when I hear someone talking about their “poor sick baby.” And then finding out that baby is a dog. (or cat…but people seem to be more weird about dogs – perhaps because dogs are actually domesticated whereas cats are not). Or hearing them talk about what a good baby their dog is. Or how much they spent on their baby at groomers.

No. Nope. Can’t digest it.

I posted something about this on Facebook last week and some woman told me that since she couldn’t have kids, her dogs have become her “babies.” I DO NOT CARE IF YOU CANNOT HAVE KIDS. THAT DOES NOT MEAN YOUR PETS MAGICALLY BECOME PEOPLE. That means you have issues and are transferring them TO A DOG. SORRY.

I have two friends that have lost their children. Do you have any idea how vastly different losing A DOG is verus LOSING YOUR CHILD? You watch your dog suffer with a disease and you can eventually decide to “put it down.” You watch your child suffer with a disease and have to decide about things like taking them off life support. It makes me sick to think anyone would EVER equate the enormity of this with legalized animal euthanasia.

You can always get another dog. You cannot get the same baby.

I had a great dog growing up. I liked him because he mostly did what I said and was there when I needed him. Why? Because he was my pet. That’s how it works. I left him home alone and the worst he ever did was crap on the floor and chew up a shoe. I’ve often thought about how nice it’d be if I could do this with my children, but I cannot. BECAUSE THEY ARE SMALL, HELPLESS PEOPLE.

If you don’t have kids, you cannot possibly fully understand this. And that’s okay. I envy you. Having the burden of this kind of love makes me very vulnerable. But all the same, just remember. Your dog (or cat) has made a nice addition to your household. But it is not a family member. If you would actually DIE for your pet, go directly to the nearest hospital and simply say, “Chapter 51, please.”

And for those childless couples, getting a dog as “practice for a baby?” Yeah. It isn’t.

I share unflattering shit about myself in the hopes that someone else out there can relate without having to share the same shit themselves. And this is a little unflattering. Pretty much, I feel like a little kid right now, kicking and screaming, and wanting to know why the fuck I can’t do what I want JUST ONE DAY A WEEK. JUST FOR TWO HOURS.

You want to know why? Because I can’t right now. I just can’t. And it blows.

Awhile ago, I pledged to my handful of readers that I’d start my podcast. I have the equipment. I have the material. I DO NOT HAVE THE TIME. Or rather, the small amount of free time I DO have is better used for things like…reading a book without having the TV on and a baby rolling into the entertainment center. Or talking to my husband. OR JUST BEING ALONE.

It’s not my time right now. I’m finally accepting that. Right now, my job is to take care of babies and make sure there’s food to eat while the hubs is in school full-time and working on his next album. No, my hubs isn’t more important than I am. But right now, he’s doing his thing and I need to support him. Someday, I’ll be doing my thing and need his support. AND I CANNOT WAIT FOR THAT DAY TO ARRIVE.

This life is a daily struggle in one way or another. I miss having friendships that involve more than the occasional Facebook message. I miss getting dressed in pretty clothes for an office job. I miss not having constant responsibility. I just miss being more selfish than I am these days. I enjoyed being selfish. Truly.

Right now, maintaining this blog (for what it’s worth) is about all I can handle. And that’s a challenge. There are days where I simply have NO energy left after I put the babies to bed. Wait. That is EVERYDAY. I know most of you parents can relate. How anyone “does it all” is beyond me. And why they do it perplexes me even more. There’s gotta be a breaking point, right?

I just took my “after” photo and honestly, I see no difference. The cleanser made my skin blotchy and clogged my pores. The eye cream didn’t necessarily HURT my eyes, but I can’t see where it helped them either. I noticed some redness around the outside of my eyes I hadn’t noticed previously. I contacted the company to see about getting a refund on the additional products I purchased and they wouldn’t do so without a receipt. Which I did not have. So there’s that, too.

Here’s the after.  I have no makeup on. My apologies.

You can read back a few posts to see the “before” picture, but if you’re too lazy, here it is:

So? Yeah. I guess I’ll use the rest of the eye cream and switch to something cheaper after that. I’m discontinuing use on the other products because I like it better when I don’t have the skin of a teenager.

We started taking the boys to the chiropractor. Yes, MOTHER. Chiropractors can treat babies, and actually HELP THEM. Yeah. I’ve got a little unresolved irritation. Sorry. My mother seems to think that because she’s a nurse, she has the correct opinion on EVERYTHING. Which means chiropractors practice voodoo and sell snake oil. Anyway. That’s another post I’m writing. (seriously)

We walked into the office a few days ago, and there was a horrible little child laying on the ground, with her face smashed into the carpet. I’m gonna assume she was about 6 but what the hell do I know. The minute we set our car seat carriers on the floor, she was all up in our business. What was the mother of this horrible child doing the entire this was happening? Bitching about something to the receptionist and ignoring it. Sounds about right.

I pretty much didn’t want this kid anywhere near mine in the first place since she looked like she had head lice-potential, but then she coughed and sneezed all over Jack. Yeah. Instead of saying something in a nice “Mommy voice” I’d heard many of my friends master, I said, “Get the hell away from my babies.” And then I stared at the mother so goddamn hard I’m sure I hurt her. I honestly wanted to smack that kid.

I don’t need to hear about how rude this was on my part because pretty much I don’t give a shit. And I don’t think it was rude. This is the first, I’m sure, of many interactions between my children and other peoples’ awful children in which I will probably be sent home because I can’t play nice with others. Home schooling doesn’t sound so bad after all. (Yes it does)

How about if we all decide, even for just one day, to shop locally AND THAT’S IT. If everyone here in Chippewa Falls shopped locally, just for one day, all on the same day? Yeah. It’d be pretty huge. And pretty awesome. So I think we should try and do it in our respective cities. (or planets)

November 26th is the day, and if you pledge your support here, you’ll even have a chance to win a $25 American Express Shop Small Gift Card.

I don’t know about you, but I think a tattoo shop qualifies as a local business. Maybe I need a little more ink and a little less skin. And a few records. And some flowers (HELLO HUSBAND!).

Time to start making that shopping list, people.

So, my trigger was appropriately tripped when I was given this opportunity and got my bottles of syrup in the mail. One was Brown Sugar Cinnamon (sugar-free and AWESOME) and the other was Peppermint (which is perfect for Christmas and makes me think of candy canes).

The hubs and I have been spending A LOT of time at home because of that whole “we have twin baby boys” thing, so we aren’t able to dash off to Starbucks for a coffee fix. And even if we could, we wouldn’t. It’s not in the budget right now. You won’t be shocked to know we drink. a lot. of. coffee. Like. two. pots. on. a. bad. baby. day.

Therefore, we busted out the recipe book that came with the syrups and got to work the same afternoon I got the kit, whipping up our first homemade lattes…ever. It was super easy and this was the final result:

Yeah. Leinenkugel’s beer and Brewers decorate the glassware in the Arnold household. It’s how we roll.

The latte was fantastic. Want the recipe? Okay. I guess.

Torani Cinnamon Roll Latte

• splash Torani Brown Sugar Cinnamon sugar-free syrup
• 1 cup milk (we used soy milk)
• 1/2 cup super strong coffee or 1/4 cup espresso

Gently whisk the milk and syrup together in a small saucepan, whisking until frothy. Pour heated, flavored milk into a tall glass and add coffee.

That’s it. If you have access to something that makes foamed milk, spoon that over the top. We didn’t and it was still fancy schmancy tasting. So much so that we’ve made several ever since.

Want your own bottle of syrup? I can hook you up. Leave a comment on the blog about your favorite coffee drink and you’ll get one entry into a contest for a “free bottle of Torani syrup” coupon. Get a bonus entry for “liking” my Facebook page and telling me you did so here.  If you already do like the page, GOOD. Tell me you do and you’ll get a bonus entry.

The contest will run until the end of the day on November 24th (Thanksgiving). Winners will be randomly chosen a few days later and notified.

If you’re dying for some syrup RIGHT NOW…visit Torani and enter “shespeaks” into the promotional code box for 10% off your order.   There are TONS of flavors available to order online!

Good Luck.