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Free Advice Friday! How’s your rack?

Dear Kim,

I’ll start off by telling you that I think I might have a mom-crush on you. I just came across your blog and I really appreciate all of your worldly advice.

As for my question: My husband and I seem to be having a bit of trouble with our wine rack that was given to us as a wedding gift a few years ago. I think it is defective but I’ve been unsuccessful with my troubleshooting attempts. The problem is, no matter how many bottles we put in it, it doesn’t seem to hold the wine for more than a few days. I’m really at my wit’s end here, as I’m sure you can imagine. Any advice?

Thanks

Whiny Wino

 

Dear Whiny,

A mom-crush?! I am sooo blushing right now! Of course, it could be my rosacea acting up again, but I’m pretty sure it’s because of you!

Whiny, by “no matter how many bottles we put in it, it doesn’t seem to hold the wine for more than a few days”, I assume you mean you’re drinking it too quickly. Well, testify, sister, testify!!! Luckily, I can help!

At one time, my wine rack looked like this:

…a pathetic cabinet of rotating bottle loneliness.

Side note: The top wine was a gift from my wonderful brother-in-law, Kevin and his lovely wife, Stacy. The bottom wine was brought to book club by Renee. Renee was reassigned to Chips & Dips.

But my current wine rack is quite a display! It’s always filled and ready for the parrr-tay! …or so it would appear.

 

How to keep your wine rack full.

 

Step 1: Purchase your wine and carefully transport it home.

You do have an old car seat dedicated to wine bottle transportation, right?

 

Step 2: Using your Baby Bjorn (make sure the leg holes are sewn shut), carefully carry the bottles into the house, gently kiss each bottle, then choose which one you’ll sacrifice first. I like to sing “I’m a Little Wine Bottle” during this process:

It’s a very spiritual scene.

Step 3: Drink it.

 

Step 4: Refill your now empty wine bottle with cranberry juice or water & food coloring.

 

Step 5: Replace the cork as deeply as you can and cut off the remaining cork. Trust me, those corks are a bitch to get it back in.

 

Step 6: Color the top of the cork with a Sharpie. I recommend buying them in a variety of colors so you can match the original foil color.

 

Step 7: Gently slide the bottle back into your wine rack! TADA! A full wine rack through the art of winodermy!

Winodermy- You know how you had your taxidermist stuff your beloved, deceased dog, then sat him next to the kitchen table so it feels like he’s still alive and begging every time you eat your pizza (because pizza was his favorite)? Well, it’s a lot like that but with wine.

 

Whiny, I hope I was able to help you!

But if you meant that your wine rack was actually broken…throw that shit out! You wouldn’t let your child sleep in a recalled crib, so why on earth would you take chances with your wine?

 

Your friend in wine,

Kim

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Free Advice Friday! Gender Identity Issues?

Dear Kim,

As the mother of two girl children, Miriam and Isadora, aged four and six respectively, I have some concerns about their personal gender identities. Miriam more so than Isadora.

About a year ago, Miriam began to show an interest in wearing boys clothing. She had discovered a pair of shorts on a dust mite infested Alf doll in my sister’s old bedroom. The shorts, which Miriam promptly stripped from Alf’s gender neutral lower half, were blue and decorated with hot air balloons. By her excitement one would think she had just found authentic vintage Chanel at a thrift store. After adding her personal touch of a rusty safety pin to ensure the shorts would stay on her scrawny three-year-old behind, she was ready for the runway.

The shorts didn’t seem to be a problem, until she started pairing them with muck boots bearing the faces of horses. She then added a hockey mask and a camel back hydration pack. The denouement was when she acquired some boys shirts she carefully selected from a garage sale. Miriam had officially crossed over (like my pun?) into the territory popularly known as cross dressing.

As a mom who is quite liberal with her children’s clothing choices I didn’t mind this at first. I had decided that allowing the children to dress as they wish, no matter how ridiculous, during their pre-pubescent years might avoid any rebellious gothic interests when they become teenagers. It was actually quite humorous. Especially when Miriam would roll down the car window and wave at other motorists wearing her hockey mask.

This past December Miriam wanted her beautiful, ass-length, curly blonde hair to be cut. Her only request? To look like Willy Wonka, the “new one”.

Recently, Isadora has proven to be quite the enabler of Miriam’s gender uncertainty. Her method is rather devious, encouraging Miriam to start styling her Ken dolls in women’s (Barbie) outfits. While I will always love my children regardless of the lifestyle choices they may or may not make in the future, I’m curious if you think I should address this situation with some professional advice.

After this lengthy back story, Kim, I choose to ask you. Your advice, while questionable, proves to be much more realistic and hilarious than the mumbo jumbo I would receive from a therapist named Dr. Sphincter. Can you help?

Sincerely,

Confused mom of confused kids

 

 

Dear Coni,

First, I’d like to say “Thank You” for your shaky belief in my ability to give questionable advice. Compliments like that are rare, and they remind me that I’m truly helping those in my community…or harming them. Either way, I’m making a difference!

As for your children, I understand your concern, but I believe in letting kids express themselves even if it’s uncomfortable for us, the parents. I find that this parenting ideology really embraces the “path of least resistance” & “confrontation avoidance” lifestyle that I prefer to live. I just pray that my kids don’t do anything too ridiculous, requiring me to actually get involved. Fingers crossed!

However, Coni, if the cross dressing thing really bothers you and you’d rather not wait for this phase to pass, then I have the solution for you!

 

Step 1– Throw out all of her clothes.

Step 2– Help her design her own dresses!

Step 3– Watch as your little darling *expresses herself in some awesome girly digs! (*or becomes scarred for life)

 

After all, what girl doesn’t want to wear something she’s made? You can even use items from around the house! And no sewing required!

Here, take a look at some of Ana’s latest fashions:

 

Day Wear

This first look says “Screw you, Mom”

 

She’s well dressed AND well read. “You go girl!”

Tip: When using newspaper, I recommend staying away from the obituary section. While wearing black is fashionable, wearing death is not.

 

Formal Occasions

“Whooo let the dogs out?!?!”

Not my little diva, she can barely shuffle to the door in her Pop-Tart shoes!

 

Swimwear

“From Trash to Sass!”

Your “litter” one will look totally adorbs in this one-piece by Hefty.

Tip: Do NOT use the black Lawn & Garden Bags. They really hold in the heat.

 

Let me know if you’d like any of our dress patterns mailed to you. But just so you’re aware, we made them by laying down several cereal boxes and cutting around Ana’s outstretched body, so you’ll need to piece them back together like a puzzle…like a really weird pee stained puzzle.

Coni, I realize my solution isn’t for everyone (mostly the bold and bored) but I hope I was able to help you and your girls or, at a minimum, not harm anyone.

Good luck!

Kim

 

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Free Advice Friday – Nursemaid or Nurse Slave to your kids?

Dear Kim,

Please help! Recently, my son had dental work. Therefore, it was “liquid, to soft, to regular diet as tolerated”. Well, after Day 1 he developed strep throat sooo it was back to liquids or whatever I could get him to eat. I was literally spoon feeding him chocolate ice cream! His temp was 103.4. Poor baby! Right?!?!

Well, Kim, now the fever has broken..thank goodness!! However it’s Day 5 and he still wants ME to help him eat, he says he cannot eat solids because it hurts?!?!

Help!
Nursemaid in Nebraska

PS. He is 6 years old!!

 

 

Dear Nursemaid,

Answer me this…is he at least wiping his own ass?

So your little darling insists that you hand feed him like he’s a baby bird. Well lucky for you, I happen to have second-hand experience with such matters, and second-experience is almost always better than third-hand experience.

Nursemaid, when I was in 7th grade I had this friend named Karen. I really liked Karen and her large family, until the day they took me on a 5 hour bike ride, uphill, in the middle of July, because that was their stupid idea of family fun. “What’s wrong with bowling?” I asked. Sadly, when 8th grade started, we were no longer friends. Turns out, 20 miles of sweating and sticking to a plastic banana seat is my friendship tipping point. Who knew?

Anyway, one Spring afternoon, Karen’s sister found a baby bird laying in the middle of their yard. She quickly brought it in and convinced her entire family that they had to raise it and teach it to fly. Like bats out of hell, they all hopped on their ten speeds and rode to the neighboring town library- which was about 10 miles away. Freaks. At dusk, they returned home with 50 million books, including, “Raising Wild Animals!” by Ura Phool and “Regurgitating for Dummies” by Ima Bryd.

For weeks, they hand fed that baby bird ridiculous milkshakes made from peanut butter, chicken (which still doesn’t seem right to me), and jelly beans. I think the books they borrowed from the library were being used to hold open a door or something.

One day, a neighbor told them that they had to start giving the bird real food, food that he would normally eat in the wild. Otherwise, there’s no way he’d survive on his own as an adult. And so they did.

That bird ate those crappy seeds and nuts, only because it’s all that was offered. But he was PISSED! And everyone knew he was pissed because he started doing mean stuff like, shitting on their lawn chairs, biting them at meal time, and hoarding things in his nest. He hoarded strange things too, things like small pool toys, hair accessories, acorns, and Kotex pantyliners which were often stuck to his furry brown tail. Now that I think about it…he might have been a flying squirrel.

Yes, he was definitely a flying squirrel.

Nursemaid, bird or flying squirrel, my advice is the same:

1. Remove all of his favorite liquid and soft foods from the house.

2. Purchase all of his favorite solid foods.

3. Offer to *regurgitate them.

*I’m told that regurgitating on demand is difficult, not to mention hell on your esophagus. Instead, simply chew up his food then spit it out on his plate for consumption.

By following the above steps, I have no doubt that his throat will start to feel better almost immediately!

 

Sincerely sorry for you,

Kim

 

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Free Advice Friday! Are your kids spoiled?

Dear Kim,

I feel like I spoil my kids (ages 14 & 16) too much, they’re always “What about me, me, me?!” They think everything we do should contribute to their happiness, and if it doesn’t then it’s not worth doing. How can I turn this boat around and get them thinking about other people’s needs?

Thank you!

Selfless Sally

 

 

Dear Sally,

That sucks.

Sally, what you need to do is to get your family into some type of community volunteer activity. Oh sure, they’ll kick and scream at first but the trick is to keep trying different programs until they find the volunteer position that really speaks to them.

Having tried several hundred organizations myself, here’s a heads up on a few: the SPCA will want you to change litter boxes and clean up hairballs, Hospice meetings are usually held on Friday afternoons putting a damper on Happy Hour, and the Big Sister/Big Brother program will most likely involve Saturday mornings and not being hung over. Oh, and none of them pay, so going in with a well rehearsed salary negotiation speech isn’t necessary. That was embarrassing.

After spending months looking for something that was rewarding, yet requiring little effort on my part, I decided to create my own volunteer organization, NewsPooper Tails. I reunite lost pets with their owners merely by reading the lost & found section of various local newspapers. For example, if I see person A lost a yellow lab in the Blake Park area, and person B found a yellow lab in the Blake Park area, BINGO! I make the call to both! I’m like a match maker for the common-sense challenged.

Of course, this type of work does have its risks. I remember this one time, I saw an ad for a missing black dachshund and another for a found black dachshund. I thought to myself, “Candy Ass (positive self-talk), how many black weiner dogs are actually roaming the streets? This must be a match!”

So I called the owner and she was so estatic! She said that the dachshund had been sitting in front of her house when her neighbors saw her ex-boyfriend come by and take it. “Why would he do that?” I asked. “Who knows. But I’m just so worried. The last time this happened, he banged it in the rear.”

“What? That’s horrible!” I screamed “I’ll be right over!”

So I picked up the dog from the lady who found it and headed over to the owner’s home. The moment she opened the door, the dog jumped out of my arms, ran over to an ugly ass recliner, lifted his leg and peed. She glared at me, “What’s up with your dog peeing on my chair?” MY DOG?

Turns out her ex-boyfriend banged the rear of her 1982 black Datsun…not Dachshund. I guess mistakes like that are one reason not to place your ads over the phone.

Sally, rest assure, this good deed has a somewhat happy ending.

Her neighbor’s ended up keeping the dachshund and naming him Rusty (after the condition of the car). They loved him dearly. And would you believe that a year later, Rusty saved their lives by barking when their dried out Christmas tree caught on fire! Granted, it only caught on fire because his doggie diabetes caused him to drink the tree stand water every night. However, the newspapers were kind enough to leave that part out, believing that every dog should have his day.

Sally, I hope I was able to inspire you and your children to seek out altruistic endeavors by giving back to your community. I must go now, it’s cocktail hour and I’m “donating” margaritas to myself and my husband. After all, charity starts at home!

Voluntarily yours,

Kim

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