This is as bad as it gets, right?

Conversation with my ten-year-old yelling at me from another room:

Hailey: Mom?  Where are you?

me: I’m in here.

Hailey: No you’re not.

Wow.  It starts so early.

*******

And now, the weekly wrap-up…

shit I did by Eric Orchard

 

Shit I made in my shop (Named “EIGHT POUNDS OF UNCUT COCAINE” so that your credit card bill will be more interesting.):

  • Nothing.  Sorry.  I have bronchitis and a minor lung infection.  I’m moving in slow motion this week.

Shit-you-may-or-may-not-want-to-see:

Shit you should buy or steal because it’s awesome:  

This week’s wrap-up is brought to you by the memoir Ezra and Hadassah: A Portrait of American Royalty, a real life tale which goes from the darkness of foster care to serious bleakness as sibling Ezra and Hadassah find themselves stuck in an abusive adoptive family with no way out. Unbeknownst to the children, their biological parents fight to the Supreme Court to get them back, changing case law for future families. After years of complete separation, the children reunite with each other and their parents, learning along the way how to let go of the pain of abuse and neglect.  A compelling but hopeful look at foster care, abuse and mental illness.  I’m reading it right now and it’s fascinating.  Check it out here.

72 thoughts on “This is as bad as it gets, right?

Read comments below or add one.

  1. My father would always yell for my mother, “Where are you?” It drove her nuts. Now my husband yells to me, “Where are you?” It drives me nuts. Are all women the same? Are all men the same? When do we get that way???? Puberty? It’s just a matter of time until Hailey switches sides.

  2. My favorite is when one person is in one room and you’re in another, and they start telling you something, and you’re like, “I can’t hear you!” and then they’re like, “What? I can’t hear you! Anyways, what I was saying was…”

    Vicious circle.

  3. Is she texting you from two feet away, yet? Do the texts say things like, “I cannot believe you’re wearing that,”? If not…then no…this isn’t as bad as it will get.

    (She doesn’t have a phone yet but she does email me from her room. Mainly just emojis of cat faces though. ~ Jenny)

  4. Unfortunately, the Pinterest hack doesn’t work for me. Day ruined 😢

    (I think there are some apps that provide a work-around but honestly it’s easier just to make up a gmail address and get a free account. I hate that they require an account now. If there was an easier way to pull all the photos together I’d use it. ~ Jenny)

  5. My husband always asks, “Are you coming back?” I’m in my nightie and slippers, gone to the fridge to get a beer. Where else would I go?

  6. The good things about the preteen / teen thing is that eventually they realize that the parental units are actually not idiots and then they apologize. This happened to use when our Big Kid was about 23…

  7. I couldn’t make myself scroll through the whole 70’s men’s style ads….too much cringing. I had to look away. {Shudder}

  8. I laughed so much at the 70s fashion that my sides actually hurt.
    I am trying to work out if I should be saying thank you or considering suing you….
    😀

  9. The Pinterest work around didn’t work for me either at first. Turned out I was clicking in the wrong spot & it works for me now. Interestingly enough, I don’t get the banner when viewing the page on my smart phone so maybe that might be a way to see Rory’s adventures? I love the chicken church but it’s so far away. And well, I liked some of those sweater patterns when I was younger, so yeah….

  10. Mine is the same age as Hailey. She yells to me, from the livingroom, ‘what are we eating?’, White I am in the kitchen literally two footsteps away..
    Also, the Sigh, the Rolling of the eyes and the ‘you never listen to meeeeeee’ have starten :/

  11. My theory is that sometime during the 60s the sun began emitting solar flares that destroyed brain cells responsible for aesthetics. It reached maximum strength during the 70s.
    There was a brief flare up some years ago when 70s styles tried to make a comeback, but most of us retained immunity and were able to resist.

  12. My 14-year-old nephew stayed with us for exactly one week, and he did this horrid thing where I’d stand at the door of his (the guest) room and ask, “Okay! What do you want to do today? The aquarium? The zoo? The Museum of Natural History? The movies? The arcade?” And he’d be all like. “I don’t know.” And then I was like, “Well, think about it for a couple minutes and then get back to me.” I went back to my room to finish getting ready, and I got a text from him that said, “Idk.” So. Yeah. This is how the apocalypse begins…

  13. I had to check and see what that manual was about because I couldn’t parse whether it meant women who are cleaners or how women should clean themselves!

  14. I love you for many reasons, but today it’s the Pinterest thing. That banner is the reason I don’t have a Pinterest account, I can’t just look without signing up. Thank you!

  15. I spent my early adulthood in the 70s. I dated men who dressed like that. No wonder I ended up with the guy who wore flannel shirts. (grin)

  16. I’ll be sitting in the couch with her and get “Mom I’m so hungry!” I’ve started saying “There’s a magical room in this house! It’s FILLED with food! Sweet, salty, cold, warm. Almost everything you could want! It’s called the ‘Kitchen’. Would you like me to show you where it is?”

  17. I am at the same stage with my lovely daughter. She has mastered the exasperated arm flail. She is only 10. When she gets her period, I’m leaving. LOL

  18. Those 70’s ads…with male adult onesies…..
    I was looking at it with my mom, and we both started screaming, “MY EYES!!!!”

  19. I am all for the Rogue. Could NOT. STOP. LAUGHING! at that monkey magician. I think I kinda need something exactly like him… for a “friend”…
    Gold lamé (pronounced “la-MAY” but apparently always pretty lame and sorta painful) is always a bad idea… Especially when blondie appears to be sporting a cup. 😛

  20. A manual for cleaning women? I’m afraid to open the link. If women need a book of pointers on how to…oh, wait. Is it for men? That – no, that doesn’t work, either. They should concentrate on cleaning themselves. We’ll clean ourselves. 😏

  21. How is that manual, by the way? I have a woman whom I get to clean regularly, and I can always use good tips in doing so!

  22. That dude in #12 holding the dead chicken really reminds me of Patrick Bergin from Sleeping With the Enemy..right down to the soulless dead eyes

  23. I tried to find out how much the “Chicken Church” was selling for and couldn’t find any information on the price.

  24. Two things — If Hailey did that pre-teen shoulder shrug you are in BIG trouble; and re the bad fashion photos, I kept checking to see if the guys dressed right or dressed left. Something about those skin tight polyester trousers.

  25. technically they still dye sheep in patterns on farms in Scotland. Not all farms. But still…The very proud ?? sheep crowd near the pastures by the roads. Maybe to show off, maybe hoping a bus will put them out of their misery. It’s amusing to the humans, anyway. And I’d move to Indonesia.

  26. Oh, and did you notice that the chicken church is wearing a crown? It’s like it was made for you. And Bloggessianism.

  27. One of my best lines ever: I told my mother I couldn’t open the door in my pajamas. When she asked why I couldn’t open the door in my pajamas I yelled, “BECAUSE I HAVEN’T GOT A DOOR IN MY PAJAMAS!”
    Yeah, I got in trouble, but it was worth it.

  28. I HATE when kids/husband talks from another room. I can rarely ever hear them and then I sound stupid yelling back “What?”

  29. I was somewhat disappointed when I clicked on the link “A Manual for Cleaning Women”…. which I thought was a how-to guide for actually cleaning a woman……. 😉

  30. the men’s clothing ads – I had no idea they even made onesies for grown men. It’s really a wonder any children were born during the 70’s.

  31. Growing up we had an INTERCOM, which sounds cool but it was mainly used by my parents to lazily spy on us. It felt like someone was always watching. Crackle, crackle “ALICE! What are doing up there?!”. Memories.

  32. Wondering if life will ever be the same after the Kermit/Miss Piggy debacle. How can we go one?? Is NO Hollywood relationship safe?? Please tell me you and Victor are ok.

  33. Oh my gosh, the chicken church article includes this line,”young couples looking to canoodle in the privacy of the chicken’s belly.” THIS MAY BE THE BEST SENTENCE EVER! I want my obituary to include that phrase. Something like, “She died doing what she loved best– canoodling in a church shaped like a chicken”. Thank you for sharing this.

  34. With your sweet little angel, this may actually be as bad as it gets! Hailey is a keeper!

  35. Whenever someone yells at me from another room, I answer “42!”, because I assume they are asking me the meaning of life.

  36. I can’t wait to read the book–thanks for the rec. And as for Ms. Piggy and Kermit, I’m just wondering who will be the first to write the tell-all:).

  37. Hey Jenny,
    I just wanted to thank you for your wonderful blog. Every time I feel my depression creeping up on me, I visit this site and always leave with a smile. Today was just an absolutely shitty day and it almost ended with me wallowing in self-pity while sitting in a darkened living room, just waiting to fall asleep and get the day over with.
    But after reading through your last entries I turned the light on, ordered some yummy food stuff, repaired an earring and a Portal turret with hot-glue and watched the first few episodes of “Steven Universe”. It may not sound like much, but this day just ended so much better than I thought it would only a few hours before.
    So yeah, thank you Jenny. Thank you for your blog, for your photos, your humour, for being you and being there.
    And sorry for this weird post, but I just felt I had to get this of my chest. Well, that and the cat which is keeping me from standing up to get my ice cream.

  38. “A Manual for Cleaning Women”- The title is haunting me. It should either be “A Manual for Cleaning a Woman,” or “A Manual for Women who Clean.” I’m not sure what the intended meaning was, but all I can imagine is someone reading a manual on how to clean a woman. “It begins with soap…”

  39. Last time you were in the Bay Area, I drove a nerve-wracking 90 minutes to that bookstore in a weird part of San Jose I didn’t even know existed. Parking there was scary. I was actually shaking by the time I got to the door of the bookstore, and just got to hear everyone clap at the end of your talk. That sucked the big one. Being one of your clan, I burst into tears. The bookstore employee apparently didn’t understand your audience. She wasn’t cool about it. So I sat in my car crying in a scary dark parking lot before driving home 90 minutes in the dark from some scary part of San Jose.

    I hope things work out better this time.

    I gave your last book to a group of knitters I used to hang out with, most of whom were very wise and funny, not trying to hide from the weirdness cuz life had just worn them down too much (about 1/2 of them were old enough to have terminal illnesses — but god they were funny). I gave it to one lady and told her to pass it on. I didn’t make it back to the meeting for a few months and it was astonishing to hear how widely that copy of your book had been handed around, bringing hearty laughs to a population without too much to laugh about. They weren’t up to pretending about life anymore and boy did they love you not pretending either. So I can’t wait to get your new one. (Too bad the funniest/bleakest lady already died, but at least you made her pee her pants first).

    But please, this time, gave your advance people warn the bookstores that some of your readers are kind of fragile and not used to being around strangers in strange towns, ok? Thanks.

  40. Last time you were in the Bay Area, I drove a nerve-wracking 90 minutes to that bookstore in a weird part of San Jose I didn’t even know existed. Parking there was scary. I was actually shaking by the time I got to the door of the bookstore, and just got to hear everyone clap at the end of your talk. That sucked the big one. Being one of your clan, I burst into tears. The bookstore employee apparently didn’t understand your audience. She wasn’t cool about it. So I sat in my car crying in a scary dark parking lot before driving home 90 minutes in the dark from some scary part of San Jose.

    I hope things work out better this time.

    I gave your last book to a group of knitters I used to hang out with, most of whom were very wise and funny, not trying to hide from the weirdness cuz life had just worn them down too much (about 1/2 of them were old enough to have terminal illnesses — but god they were funny). I gave it to one lady and told her to pass it on. I didn’t make it back to the meeting for a few months and it was astonishing to hear how widely that copy of your book had been handed around, bringing hearty laughs to a population without too much to laugh about. They weren’t up to pretending about life anymore and boy did they love you not pretending either. So I can’t wait to get your new one. (Too bad the funniest/bleakest lady already died, but at least you made her pee her pants first).

    But please, this time, gave your advance people warn the bookstores that some of your readers are kind of fragile and not used to being around strangers in strange towns, ok? Thanks.

  41. Anyone else notice Amazon’s recommendation for “A Manual for Cleaning Women” was Jenny Lawson awesome?

    Frequently Bought Together:
    A Manual for Cleaning Women: Selected Stories + Barbara the Slut and Other People
    Price for both: $32.91

  42. I have a 10 year old daughter and our conversations are about the same. Tweens! Were we really that bad too? (I suspect the answer is yes….)

  43. Okay. In the men’s picture #24, I’m wondering if ANYONE involved in the shoot thought ‘Sheeeet. Those pants are see-through and he’s not wearing any jocks and I can tell because that dude is cir-cum-sized.’.

    Or is it just me. Probably just me. Never mind, carry on.

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