Diary of a Hot Pink Mama

My crazy rantings about life as a young, single mom just trying to keep my head on straight!

Sunday, December 10, 2006

How we wrap gifts in my house...

Supplies Needed:

* unwrapped gifts (preferably in oddly shaped boxes, because, you know, that’s always way more fun!!
* wrapping paper (2 different patterns, one for presents from you, one for presents from Santa because perhaps your 2 year-old is a super genius who will figure it all out if you don’t use different papers!!)
* tape
* scissors
* gift tags
* bows
* wine
* chocolate candy


1. pick out which gift you want to wrap first
2. measure wrapping paper
3. curse toy companies for not making nice square boxes like normal people!!
4. cut paper as crookedly as possible
5. tear off a piece of tape and stick it to your finger
6. realize the piece of paper you cut is too small to fit around the box you’re wrapping
7. say very bad word and hope no one heard you
8. eat chocolate
9. drink wine
10. cut a HUGE piece of wrapping paper
11. wrap it around the sides of the box
12. unstick the tape that has wrapped around your finger and stuck to itself
13. wine and chocolate
14. tape paper to the middle of the box
15. cut excess paper off of the sides
16. accidentally tear paper while you’re cutting it
17. say another very bad word
18. wine
19. try to wrap up the ends of the terribly oddly shaped box
20. curse
21. try harder
22. finally get it together
23. hold with one hand while tearing tape with the other
24. stick tape to itself again
25. curse
26. drink wine
27. refill glass
28. try again
29. SUCCESS!!!
30. repeat with other side of box
31. tag gift appropriately
32. open large bag of bows
33. stick bow to wrapped gift
34. hold gift up to look at the final product
35. bow falls off
36. try to stick it back on
37. falls off again
38. curse
39. put bow on your head
40. it sticks
41. curse
42. wine
43. forget the bow
44. realize gift is slightly…puffy looking and wrapped terribly
45. don’t care

Repeat until all gifts are wrapped or until you get so damn frustrated that you decide to get gift bags for all those stupid funny shaped boxes. Vow to hire someone to wrap your gifts next year.

Thursday, December 07, 2006

Santa Clause is coming to town!

What does every single child on earth look forward to around Christmas time?

Seeing Santa of COURSE!!

So naturally, I must take the kidlet to see Santa because he'll sit on his lap and they'll both look at each other and turn and smile for the camera and then he'll tell Santa he wants a puppy and Santa will look at his mommy and say, "uh...your mommy looks like she has her hands full, why don't we send her on vacation? Won't that be more fun than a puppy?" And the kidlet will say "YEAH!" and I'll be magically transported to the Bahamas, and I'll be a size 2 again, and I'll have no stretch marks, and I'll have a cabana boy.

Yeah, and then I woke up.

It was bring your puppy to see Santa night. I totally didn't know that. So the WHOLE FREAKING TIME we're in line, the kidlet's like "puppy mama, puppy!" "I puppy". We finally get to the front of the line, and I introduce him to Santa, sit him on Santa's lap, and...let the meltdown begin...

SCREAMING SCREAMING SCREAMING!!! While I'm dancing around like an idiot saying "Oh honey, Santa is so great!! We love Santa don't we?" Fast forward 1 minute, and Santa's holding him at arms length, and the little workers are looking at me like my child is a Christmas ruiner, and the girl says "Do you want a picture of him screaming?" like please learn to control your child lady.

I laugh all crazy and say, "no...that's all right," and go rescue the kidlet from Santa's lap. Kidlet promptly turns around, smiles at Santa and says "Thank you!"

At least he has good manners!

Wednesday, December 06, 2006

I started a fire in my kitchen...

F.I.R.E people, like with flames and smoke and alarms!

All I was trying to do was make some queso because I had been working ALL DAY, then had to go grocery shop for 100 YEARS, and dammit, I wanted to EAT!! But, I digress.

Backstory: Last week, while I was cooking alfredo sauce, the sauce boiled over onto the stove. I cleaned up the stove and moved on, but apparently, some of it pooled in the little thingie under my burner. I never even thought about it because I’ve been cooking on the stove for almost a week now without incident. So, I place the ground beef into the pan on the stove and naturally, it immediately burst into flames.

At first, the flames were small, so I tried to blow them out. That didn’t work. *crap*
Next, I tried to find the fire extinguisher (under the sink dumbass), but I can’t get it OUT from under the sink because it is ATTACHED to the WALL. Seriously, who’s freaking brilliant idea was that?? Let’s attach the fire extinguisher to the wall so that way, in the event of a fire, they will have to spend extra precious moments trying to DETACH the fire extinguisher from the wall, rather than put out the fire! So I break the plastic thingie that’s on the wall, and the damn thing won’t work. *Ah yes, pull out the pin stupid.* and I STILL can’t get it to work. This thing is freaking RE-TAR-DED.

So I pick up the phone. Who do I call? The fire station?? NO, I call my MOTHER screaming about how my house was on fire and did she know how to use a fire extinguisher because I can’t make mine work and I think it might be broken and…

She screams “I don’t know how to work your fire extinguisher call 911!!” (I also think she may have called me stupid but I’ll overlook it)

So I call 911, and I get “Thank you for calling your San Antonio Emergency Services, all circuits are currently busy…” (WWWWWWWHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAATTTTTTTTT??? My HOUSE is on FIRE!!!) So I hung up, re-dialed, and got a real live person! *yay!* I start shrieking to the poor soul who had the unfortunate duty of speaking to me “My house is on fire!!” which probably sounded more like “IIIIIIEEEEEEEE!!! Fire!” * sobbing, hyperventilating* He asks my address and I manage to screech it out while sobbing AND hyperventilating. I can hear him rolling his eyes…”Ma’am, where’s the fire?” At this time, I figure it’ll be a good idea to go inside and check on said fire. It’s gone, put itself out, no more fire. I’m trying to calm myself down and tell the dispatcher that it’s OK, no need to send the fire truck, no fire, everything’s fine, but my entire apartment is filled with smoke and my alarms are still screaming. The dispatcher yells “PLEASE GET OUT OF YOUR HOUSE!!” It only just occurred to me that smoke inhalation is bad.

So, I go outside to wait for the firemen, and try to figure out how to explain why I called the fire department to come fight a fire that does NOT EXIST!! The smoke alarms finally turn off making me look less like a damsel in distress, and more like a complete lunatic that calls 911 for phantom fires.

The firemen come rushing up with all of the flashing lights and leap out of the truck in their little firesuits, run back to my apartment, then call and alert the rest of the firemen that there is in fact no fire…

But they totally believed that there was a fire because hello, smoke damage, and smoky smoky apartment.

So, the firemen took apart my stove, taught me that I could raise up the top and clean all the stuff out from there (much much alfredo sauce…I would’ve never known!). They also taught me how to use the fire extinguisher, and reminded me that in case of a grease fire, you can throw baking soda on it and it will go out (DUH!!!)

Although, I can guarantee you that if I am ever in another fire, I would not remember any of that stuff so…completely useless information!!

They spent the next 10 minutes complimenting my lovely Christmas tree, while I apologized for the fact that there was no fire for them to put out (A total inconvenience!!). One of the firemen was new and according to his fireman buddies was very anxious to put out his very first fire…and it made me feel BAD…why, I don’t know. They assured me that it was OK and it was better that there was no fire than a huge fire, and now I feel better.

They left to go fight real fires, and I SCRUBBED out my stove and put it back together, but the burner where the fire originated is permanently retarded.

So I made friends with the local fire fighters, learned how to use a fire extinguisher, and the kidlet was not home for any of this because it’s grocery shopping night, which is good because he would probably be scarred for life.

AND my ground beef survived the entire incident and is now in my queso where it belongs! I had a glass of wine, and feel much less tense about it all now.

Also, my neighbors are completely useless because NOT ONE of them were home when my house was on fire, but now, they are running all around up there making an incredible amount of noise.

Oh, and I’m totally going to bake some cookies and take them to the firemen to thank them for putting out my non-fire.