Showing posts with label Guest Posts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Guest Posts. Show all posts

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

A guest posting we will go ...

Perhaps I've been singing too many nursery rhymes these days.

I'm guest posting over at Beth's place today; click on over and say hello. I must warn you, apparently I morph into a serious and heartfelt person when I take over someone else's blog. Gasp. You didn't know I had it in me, did you? That's what I thought.

Sunday, May 3, 2009

Dear Lyndsay ...

Today’s guest post is written by the lovely and brilliant Ann, from Ann’s Rants. I’ve been a regular reader of Ann’s blog since our blogs were in their infancy. She is an outstanding writer and has humor that rivals anyone else out there in bloggyland. If you haven’t visited Ann’s blog before, I highly recommend that you immediately do. Side note: I don’t say that about too many blogs, do I? Besides, as an EOB (Equally Opportunity Blogger), I have an obligation to make sure that diversity efforts are met here at I Used to be Witty. Let’s see, Ann is Jewish (check!) and she’s from Wisconsin (check!), which I think must apply somewhere in my Affirmative Action Plan. Take it away Ann…

Dear Lyndsay,

I need to schedule another HR consultation. The situation grows increasingly dire with each passing day. I’m speaking of inappropriate language, touching, and even nudity. I’m speaking of blatant insubordination, and untenable working conditions. As per your earlier instructions, I began documenting the offenses. Yet, as quickly as I administer warnings, new more egregious offenses occur. Our desperately-awaited and newfound springtime weather—allowing for open doors and windows—only exacerbates the humiliation I endure. Take a look at these incriminating pieces of evidence:

INDECENT EXPOSURE: 9am Two-Year-Old disrobed completely, diaper-flung in my general direction, and ran out the back door to “run da-round da-naked.”

SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS: Naked Two-Year-Old flaunts his miniature body, running around the backyard with crayon in hand, fixing things and screaming to our neighbors “I like to screw” “I screwing, Mommy!”

INAPPROPRIATE TOUCHING: Bathtime toes-in-butts situation completely out of control, as is inappropriate peeing-in-bath behavior demonstrated by both Two and Five-Year-Old. This also causes health concerns as purposeful bath-water-ingestion levels rise, despite my dire warnings of “ucky.”

Frequent random poking and grabbing of “Mommy’s Butt” (and butt refers to a highly generalized area) should be noted.

VANDALISM is rampant around the toilet area as a result of pee tagging. When confronted, Five-Year-Old offers a weak explanation that “this happens if you close your eyes while peeing” And Two-Year-Old’s defense? He wants to stand and deliver, without handling the goods. So to speak.

Before I go on, I should share that your webseminar “Poop talk: When Defecation is The Conversation” proved effective. I highly recommend it to your other clients. We established dinnertime as a “Poop-Talk-Free (PTF) Zone,” and that five minutes of our day remains blissfully PTF! I, however, am still suffer symptoms of PTD (Poop Talk Disorder) as is apparent when I unselfconsciously discuss poop consistency in mixed company, and occasionally yell ‘POOPYHEAD’ in a fit of rage. I’m working on it.

INSUBOORDINATION: As much as 1-2-3 Magic (also known as One-Two-Fwee Magic) seems perceptibly magical, when taunted with counting from my child-subordinates it creates a hostile environment. Or makes me laugh, rendering the whole process completely ineffective.

HOSTILE WORK ENVIRONMENT: Lastly, Two-Year-Old now employs a torture tactic long-banned under the Geneva Convention—REPETATIVE RAFFI. “Willabee Wallabee Woo” is directly responsible for a substantial increase in insurance copays, as I now require weekly therapy sessions and shock therapy. When coupled with nap-avoidance (creating a 15 hour day without breaks), REPETATIVE RAFFI creates a cruel and unusual workplace.

Lyndsay, Please advise. Bring your HAZMAT suit and a stiff drink.

Fondly,
Ann

Ann, you are fantastic. I'm packing the HAZMAT suit, but I am leaving the drinks to you. Last time I tried to board a plane with that much alcohol, I ended up having to drink all but the 1 oz. that was allowed on the plane. I think we could turn this next lesson into a webinar; the demands for HR: KICK-ASS MOM VERSION are growly rapidly.