Chicken Run

I do believe it's time for a chicken update. It was May when last I introduced you to our new friends and their cute, fuzzy chicky faces. Clearly much has changed.

Now they can only be called cute if you qualify your definition with "in a Creepy Chicken sort of way."

They are very creepy with their beady little angry eyes, blobs of extraneous flesh glomped onto their faces, and their jerky bobble heads.

All that creepiness aside, I do quite enjoy them.

They were game for chicken races many evenings over the summer. Ha, ha, game. Get it?

Never mind.

The girls and I held the chicken races at dusk on lazy summer evenings. We would start by catching ourselves a chicken . . . half the battle was catching the chickens. Once each of us had a chicken, we we would release them at the starting line, and whichever chicken made it back to the coop first was the winner. 

Even though we have four chickens, Peanut Head never joined in any of our Chicken Games.

He's much too classy for such chicanery.

In spite of the forced racing, the chickens had a peaceful summer in their backyard chicken coop, coming out to free range in the evenings while Gunny Man was locked away inside the house. 

Gunny Man has self control issues.

The cats were very interested in the chickens before they got creepy looking. After that, they just kept their distance. 

One evening I caught Jo Jo stalking a chicken at the back door. The chickens like to hang out on the back porch and poop all over it, why, I have no idea. Perhaps it's Chicken Art. Anyway, Jo Jo looked like she wanted a closer look, so I picked her up, opened the door, and flung her out to the birds. Just like that.

She slightly freaked out, but only for a moment. After that moment passed, she regained her kitty composure and started stalking the chicken like a proper cat.

Well that was a bad idea, because Mr. Creepy Chicken turned around and chased that cat right out of the yard. I think I peed my pants, I was laughing so hard.

Jo Jo doesn't gaze at the chickens from the back door anymore. At least not when I'm around.

She has trust issues.

Chicken Butt.

It's like a photo bomb, but it's a chicken butt.

Triple Chicken Butt. Super obnoxious.

This blog is going so down hill.

 

We got our first eggs from our fine feathered friends this past week. Their little eggs are so adorable next to our from-the-store extra large eggs.

Um . . . one of these things is not like the others. 

Peanut Head read on the internet that chickens need to be trained to lay their eggs in the nesting boxes and not where they poop. Which is, obviously, everywhere. So, apparently golf balls are going to trick them into not pooping in their nesting boxes.

Because chickens are so stoooooopid.

Peanut Head has been waiting for this day for a long time. I almost feel sorry for the could-have-been chicken babies. Sniff.

Snarf.

Dove Conditioner Review

I don't think I've ever done a review for a product before, but when BlogHer contacted me about reviewing a Dove hair care product, I jumped at the chance. You see, I don't have good hair.

Then you factor in genes working in the nasty way they have of gifting unpleasant traits to unwilling and unfortunate recipients, and it's not surprising that Zoe Bug also inherited my lifeless straw-like hair. So sorry, Babe.

Stinkerbell, however, was switched at birth and got all the looks from somebody's family, and the only good hair. She has the Fabio-Shake-It-and-Let-it-Fall-Into-Perfect-Place hair. It's disgusting.

And it's wasted on her because she's not the least bit girly and has to be threatened to even wash and condition her hair, let alone comb it.

The nerve.

Before I signed up to do this review I made sure both girls were on board to help me test it out. I sat them down and I said, mainly to the Stink because Zoe does whatever I tell her to do, "If we're going to do this right, all of us have to wash our hair and use the conditioner for at least a week, FOR REAL.  Who's in?"

Since I put it that way, both girls were excited to get started. So we did, and this is what we thought.

We love it! We tested the Dove Nutritive Therapy Nourishing Oil Care Conditioner. Wow, that was a mouthful.

Seriously though, it left our hair super easy to comb through, and when it dried, our hair felt downright silky. Maybe I should emphasize that a little more. It made Zoe's and my straw-like hair silky. No. Lie.

I'd tell you that Peanut Head couldn't keep his hands out of my hair since I've been using this stuff, but I don't want to exaggerate. It's not my style.

Plus you might vomit.

The nifty part about all this for you, is that you have the opportunity to enter the Dove Sweepstakes for a $1,000 Spafinder gift card. I wonder if I can enter this Sweepstakes too? That sounds really good. Probably I can't, so you should do it so I can live vicariously through you.

You need to follow the link below and answer the following question that I just made up. 

If you win the Spa Finder gift card, what services would you want available to you?

Feel free to make stuff up. I think spas need to hear about the things that really relax us. Like while I'm getting a massage, I want a team of Maintenance Engineers at my house, cleaning it from top to bottom. That's going to help me really enjoy a massage.

Oh yeah, there's also a link to get a $1.50 off Dove coupon so you can try this conditioner out for yourself. Go ahead, you won't be sorry.

Enter to win a $1,000 Spafinder gift certificate!

NO PURCHASE NECESSARY

COMMENTS TO THIS POST ARE NOT SWEEPSTAKES ENTRIES. PLEASE SEE BELOW FOR ENTRY METHODS FOR THIS SWEEPSTAKES.

You may receive (2) total entries by selecting from the following entry methods:

a) Follow this link, and provide your email address and your response to the Promotion prompt

b) Tweet (public message) about this promotion; including exactly the following unique term in your tweet message: "#SweepstakesEntry"; and then visit this link to provide your email address and the URL to that Tweet.

c) Blog about this promotion, including a disclosure that you are receiving a sweepstakes entry in exchange for writing the blog post, and then visit this link to provide your email address and the URL to that post.

This giveaway is open to US Residents age 18 or older. Winners will be selected via random draw, and will be notified by e-mail. Winners will have 72 hours to claim the prize, or an alternative winner will be selected.

The Official Rules are available here.

This sweepstakes runs from 9/4/2012 - 9/30/2012

Be sure to visit Dove^®Hair.com to get a coupon for $1.50 off Dove Hair Therapy products.

Pottery Barn Reject

I used to really, really care what my kids' bedrooms looked like. As in everything was in its place, the bedding coordinated with the room decor, blah, blah, blah.

Clearly I have moved on, because this is what my kids' rooms look like now. I keep threatening to call Hoarders to come and shoot an episode in Zoe's room. It's that bad. 

I say that I used to care, but I'd be lying if I said it didn't make me twitchy. The problem is that I'm too exhausted to make myself care enough to do anything about it.

As in I need to sit in the room with my child and walk her through the decision making process.

In other words, be a parent.

I'm not normally one to shirk my duties, but I cannot deny that I have let this one slide. Imagine my surprise yesterday when both girls started moving furniture around and cleaning their rooms without me standing in the doorway yelling at them to "Pick this crap up!"

It was kind of like the whole potty training fiasco wherein I gave up and the second child had to potty train herself. I suck.

I do try, but my time is limited and I have ADD. Yes, I just diagnosed myself, but "SQUIRREL!"

If you've been visiting me for any length of time, you know I tend to jump around.

Like now. Changing the subject.

So, I've learned some things about middle schoolers that I had forgotten. Here's my running list.

1. Don't ever say "hi" to a middle school student in the hallway and acknowledge them by name. It is soooooo uncool to talk to teachers, and they will likely not acknowledge you. It's early in the year yet, but later on when I get to know them a little bit, I might select one lucky student to approach and say "How's my little Snooky Wookums?" Although super fun for me, it would be social death for a child in that awkward stage of life.

2. Many of the students get to school before I do, and I'm generally there an hour before school starts. They just cannot wait to get to their lockers and be seen loitering and looking nonchalant and bored. I laugh inside so as not to embarrass them, but the truth is that I remember what it's like to be that age and I commiserate with them.

3. It is physically impossible to make it from the gym to the faculty restroom, and finally to my room in one passing period. In a middle-age woman's body. I kid, but I have relented, and I now allow students to use the restroom as long as they follow my very strict Potty Pass Protocol. They must promise not to take my excellent hall pass into a stall or set it anywhere near a urinal, and they must wash their hands before retrieving it. They all want to know what to do if someone steals the pass, but I have assured them that the pass is too obnoxious and obtrusive to steal. They are very worried about this.

That's it for now. My brain is fried.

I leave you with this charming picture of Gunny Man.

My unsupervised and rampantly running wild children have figured out that they can dress the poor dog up in their clothes. I think he looks like Snoop Dog in this picture. Oh, excuse me, Snoop Lion.

It's Prince and the Unnameable Symbol all over again, isn't it?