I hate it when I get to the store -- like the Carter's outlet near me -- and find that I had to have signed up for their email updates to get a discount. Of course, being a frugal consumer (read: cheap bee-yotch), I am happy to take 10 minutes to step away from the register, sign up for the emails using my smartphone, and present my coupon like I'd planned to do that all along.

Never mind the irony of being a cheapo with a smartphone. I'd sooner give up my dishwasher.

There's just one problem with the money-saving emails: Sometimes the time you spend unraveling the exact deal, and how much you can actually save, costs more than the savings. And sometimes, if you really look, you aren't saving anything. When did my money-saving email deals turn into spam-scams?

It was galling enough when The New York Times did a little comparison shopping and found that flash sites were often more expensive than regular online retailers. Actually, that was a great thing, because it enabled me to finally unsubscribe from all those emails without guilt, secure in the knowledge that if something really good came along, one of my more eagle-eyed friends (with a desk job and email-perusing time to spare) will probably post it on Facebook.

But this guy took a closer look at a grocery-store email and abracadabra! With a few clicks of the asterisks, free home delivery had bloated into a $100 purchase with $30 from one brand. Now, do I tend to spend more than $100 at the grocery store? Well, yes. Do I sometimes spend $30 on one brand? Rarely. I mean, unless that brand is Ben and Jerry's and I'm going through a breakup. Or I'm pregnant. Which I'm not.

(Checking. Yep, really I'm not. Thank goodness I bought that bulk-sized box of pregnancy tests at Costco!)

Which reminds me: Oh, Costco. Every year I let my subscription to you run out because I'm just not sure if I save money at you. My mom says she's done the math and she just doesn't think the car-sized flat of fancy yogurt really saves her anything, especially when you factor in the time you spend trying to get someone to take the mango-flavored ones. I say I do save money on individual items -- the acre of recycled toilet paper, the cargo-container of unscented baby wipes. The trouble is, I also walk out of there with an extra $100 worth of too-tempting items like organic pajamas, pignoli nuts, and that biography of Ted Kennedy, all of which were a bargain but none of which I actually needed.

Of course, my lack of self-control isn't really Costco's fault. I prefer to blame my mom for that, especially now that she's ruined all the fun of shopping at Costco.

The bottom line is this: Sometimes I'd rather have a bigger bottom line than wade through all the fine print. Then again, I do have a glove compartment stuffed with 20% off Bed, Bath and Beyond coupons just in case I'm inspired to shop there.

Where do you draw the line between bargain hunting and coupon-hoarding?

Image via kyz/Flickr

Ah, vanity plates. Almost invariably, by the time you're old enough to get one, you no longer have the desire to announce to everyone behind you that you're 1H0T1 or MISSTHANG. I myself had always intended to get one, till I realized that if I were to commit some kind of crime, it would be easy for eyewitnesses to identify my vehicle.
 
Not that I'm planning any drive-by snowballings or bank robberies, but it did seem prudent to avoid being super obvious.
 
Anyway, a guy in Washington, D.C., where weirdly huge and stupid fines are de rigeur, did not get the memo. In addition, he chose a vanity plate that ended up costing him much more than the $50 the DMV requires. Like tens of thousands of dollars more. How?

It's like this: Twenty-five years ago, Danny White had the funny idea to get license plates that read "No Tags." See, it's funny because he has tags that said he had no tags. Like when PIL called their album "album" or when Magritte made that painting of a pipe that said "this is not a pipe" underneath.
 
It's either incredibly surreal or unbelievably corny. Take your pick.
 
Another thing that it is: Expensive. The way ticket-writing in D.C. works is that if the car doesn't have a license plate, the traffic officer writes "No Tags." So each and every month, Danny receives all the tickets written on abandoned cars -- stacks and stacks of them, reams of them, tens of thousands of dollars' worth. And each and every month, he goes down to the DMV, shows proof that his car is not the type listed on each ticket, and gets them voided out.
 
Except that he does have a Chevrolet. So any tickets written on abandoned Chevrolets can't be dismissed.
 
He contacted a local TV station, which straightened things out by getting the DMV to change its protocol -- now, tickets written on abandoned cars use a part of the car's VIN number, which is probably a better system anyway.

Which left me wondering: What would be an even more ill-conceived vanity license plate?

Well, if I had one that read $5KFINE, I'd probably owe five grand every time I got a ticket, regardless of the infraction. 

I suppose TICKETME or PULMEOVR would probably have an undesired effect.

DRUNK and SPEEDNG would definitely be a bad idea. So would STOLEN.

The rest of my ideas are decidedly un-PC, so I'm going to leave it at that.

By the way, when asked why he does not just change his license plate, White revealed himself to be both a jokester and unbelieeeeevably stubborn. He paid for them, he should get to use them, he says. It's the principal of the thing.

WHATEVR!

What would you want on your personalized plates, if you had to get some -- or if you do have them, what do they say?

Image via NBCWashgton.com

Before I had kids, I loved using kitschy childhood favorites to decorate my home-space – Muppets, Hello Kitty, Raggedy Ann. It was good fun at the time, but since my extended adolescence finally ended with a “Push!” and then a “Waah!” three-odd years ago, it’s become a lot less appealing.
 
For one thing, SpongeBob appears on every available surface even if I don’t want him to. Hey, I love the little absorbent, yellow, porous fella as much as anyone, but enough is enough – I do like having décor that isn’t fuzzy, neon, or enhanced with googly eyes.
 
And yet: There’s something cheering about a home inspired by play. Emphasis on “inspired,” as in “I did more than just stick a Monopoly throw on the couch.” Here are some neat ideas that remind us, with a wink, that work is for work – and home is for fun.

Scrabble throw pillows (4 for $98 at Etsy/Dirtsastudio) -- These letter tiles are instantly recognizable – and irresistible. Scrabble is one of the few board games that’s both educational and endlessly addictive – regardless of age. So what if you got all the tiles in pillow form? You could have the most erudite pillow fight ever!

 
Scrabble coasters (4 for $20 at Etsy/AllisonKapner) -- I know. I know! Two Scrabble entries? What kind of a nerd am I? But here’s what I like about these: You can buy them or DIY them, they use up extra tiles from lost boxes, and they are so, so smooth and pretty. Plus, I’m a sucker for a good Etsy shop.  

Lego key rack ($73.49 at Amazon) -- Well, if you can’t have the legendary Lego kitchen, there’s still this. It’s a genius idea: each key ring is attached to a different-colored brick, and all attach to the central panel – yes, it’s like a key hook, but it’s more fun. Of course, it’s also no longer being made by Lego, but how hard could it be to make this yourself? (Especially since you can still get the key chains.)

Monopoly bathroom set ($29.99 at Amazon) -- Quick, which Monopoly piece did you always fight over? Everybody answer at once: THE DOG. Well, now he’s a jar. And nobody else can take him because he’s in your crapper. Plus a money-bag soap dispenser, a wheelbarrow soap dish, and the toothbrush holder is the boot! Let’s face it, we don’t all have $700 to play a park-sized Monopoly game. But this – this is within anyone’s reach, like a house on Baltic Ave.  

Mah Jongg refrigerator magnets ($20 for five at Etsy/Mosalchick) -- Some games are a thing of beauty in and of themselves. Vintage Bakelite tiles have been made into chunky bracelets and earrings, and now they can adorn your refrigerator, too. I have no idea what the symbols mean or why the rules are different for Jewish and Chinese grandmas – but I know I love ‘em either way.
 

Parcheesi Rug ($50 at Hayneedle) -- Nuff said. Classic.

Have you seen game-inspired décor you love? Tell us in the comments!

From great ideas on organization, DIY, kid spaces, and just drooling over celebrity homes, our Pinterest page provides your daily design fix. Check it out and follow us!

Images via Etsy/Dirtsastudio, Etsy/AllisonKapner, Amazon, Etsy/Mosalchick,  Hayneedle

Hey, billing errors happen. We’ve all opened a utility bill and said, “This doesn’t seem right,” and 9 times out of 10, it’s all resolved with a quick phone call. Even when it’s an aquarium-sized water bill for a three-bedroom house.

But what if that billing error happened, and you’ve authorized electronic billing? If you’re like one Chicago-area family, you could end up overpaying by more than a hundred grand for a month’s worth of electricity.

Oops.

This could happen with any company, of course, but in this story, the customer had just signed up for a new program that allowed her to save money by using real-time billing for electricity -- something businesses have been doing for years (timing their heavy use for off-peak hours). She thought, “Oh, cool! I can save money this way.”

And she probably will. But her excitement over the bill had a more immediate effect: It let her see, before the billing date, that she was about to be overbilled by, oh, about $107,400. The previous month, her bill was $276 and she used 2,236 kilowatt hours. The month in question, it was mistakenly thought that she had used 1.6 million kilowatt hours for a bill of $107,625.16. (Don’t forget the sixteen cents!)

The taxes and fees alone were more than $16,000!

Fortunately, she had a few days before the billing cycle took effect, so she was able to call, point out the problem, and have the bill corrected before she had her bank account and automatic overdraft protection gutted.

The lesson? If you’re going to do automatic anything, keep your eye on it. It’s great to have your bills paid on time with no effort on your part, but you still need to make a date to open the mailed copies and check the amounts. It’s too easy for mistakes to sneak through, and if they’re considerably smaller than this one -- which is a lot more likely! -- you might never catch them.

When I saw a financial adviser (who was more of a financial therapist), she actually suggested I not do any automatic billing and said I should keep my paper billing in place rather than switching to email. Her thinking was that if you have a stack of envelopes, you are more likely to put them in a folder and spend an evening looking them over. She also had me write each bill’s recurring due date on my calendar. That way, I wasn’t distanced from the bill-paying process.

Even if you stick with paperless billing and automatic bill-pay, it’s a good policy to print things out and watch the bottom line. At least for me and my money -- who have a stormy, rocky relationship rife with me often feeling abandoned! -- it’s sometimes the only thing keeping us together.

Has automatic bill-pay ever gotten you in trouble?

Image via taxbrackets.org

I would dearly love to be organized. I go to friends’ houses and think, “Everything has its place.” By contrast, in my home, everything has its place, and that place is … everywhere.
 
I'm a sucker for articles on sites like Houzz.com about getting clutter under control, but they always show magazine-ready rooms bathed in gentle morning light with hardwood floors and plenty of room. When Remodelista starts putting out a weekly newsletter called “closet-sized rentals with ugly carpeting made to look kinda cute despite themselves,” I will jettison the self-flagellation and sign right up.
 
And then sometimes, I just get snarky and sit around thinking up obnoxious comebacks for perfectly nice organizing tips. Cue my mom: “If you spent this much energy following those Flylady tips, your house would look like Gwyneth Paltrow’s!”
 
Maybe so. But this is what you get from Sister Slacker-Snark. So enjoy.

Terrible Tip #1: “Sort by activity.”
Oh my God. This is like saying, “Step one: Get completely organized.” I want to stab myself in the face even THINKING about the day of hell this tip would entail. First, I’m supposed to sort EVERYTHING into “keep, trash, donate.” When that’s done, I allegedly sort yet again by activity, so I know what kind of storage to get. News flash: The storage I get is called “what’s available on Craigslist,” and every single activity (my kids are 1.5 and 3) is “hurl things randomly around the house.”
 
Oh God, God help me, this woman just told me to get the kids to help me sort. I want to die.
 
Terrible Tip #2: “Find a place for everything.”
This advice seems to make sense: Put little-used toys on higher shelves, much-used ones on the lowest. And get increasingly smaller bins for the increasing number of smaller items that seem to overrun every playroom.
 
Well, sure. Every once in a while I get a wild hair and go nuts trying to organize things. I’ll run to Marshalls and buy some cute $5 bins, and voila! The living-room-basted cuddlies and plastic toys finally have a home. But by the end of each day, there’s still an indeterminate pile of stuff that seems to fit into neither place that takes much too long to sort. What is all that stuff? I need some kind of home archaeologist. It’s like this: weird, scary mound of broken crayons, boxes that something is supposed to go in, and single dolly shoes.
 
I think that’s the basic problem here: My storage bins, in a strange twist of ironic fate, become part of the parade of clutter. And the Pile of Mystery continues to haunt me.
 
Terrible Tip #3: “Label, label, label.”
Amy’s response: “Bite me, bite me, bite me.”
 
Terrible Tip :4: “Pay attention to comfort and style.”
This is the kind of advice that makes me wonder who is having kids these days. Really? Stain-resistant carpeting is a good idea? Play mats are nice on hardwood floors? The hell you say. I thought I was supposed to litter a sisal mat with broken Pfaltzgraff and novelty thumbtacks.
 
Then again, I did recently post a recent article on Facebook, asking, “Why is this child so glum? Maybe because she lives in a walk-in freezer.” Clearly not all rooms ostensibly designed for children are actually, you know, designed. For children.
 
Terrible Tip #5: “Create a cleanup system.”
Lady, if I could create a cleanup system, I wouldn't have this problem. And I’ll make a chore chart just as soon as I can figure out what one looks like.
 
Have you found organization tips that really work? How mad do you get at decluttering articles obviously written by people who already have OCD?

Image via Elizabeth/Table4Five/Flickr

It seems like we women still like to take control of home décor, and our husbands are often glad to let us take the reins. But we can’t let the power go to our heads, ladies. The bedroom is an oasis, sure – it’s a cliché because it’s true. But that goes for both of you.
 
Take a look around your bedroom. Do a throw-pillow count. Conduct a hue check. Use a floral detector. Do you think of your bedroom as "mine," or "ours"? In the wake of Valentine’s Day, let’s make sure we’re not driving our husbands into man-caves by making our shared sanctuary into a lady-orchard. (Wait, what?)
 
Take the master bedroom quiz and find out whether yours is a his, a hers, or an ours!

What’s on your walls?

(a) Family photos, beaming down at us as if they are so proud to see us ... do it.
(b) An oil painting of a peach that looks remarkably like a butt.
(c) Deer antlers.
 
It can be tempting to have a cluster of photos of your kids, your parents, and everyone else you love right where you can wake up and see them, but it’s also kind of a buzzkill. Beds are for more than sleeping, you know. I think this is why people put family photos in the front hall – so we don’t feel guilty about not having them on our bedside tables. Look for something kinda sexy, moody and evocative, lush and rich. In other words, (b).
 
How about the color?
(a) Fabulous peachy pink!
(b) Sage green and brown.
(c) Matte black.

Have you caught on yet? I’m putting the most reasonable choices in the (b) slot. Look, I love pink. I mean, I adore it. And I agree that it brightens a room most cheerfully. But it can’t be your main color. One way to get pink into a unisex bedroom is by choosing an off-white that has a pink hue, or warmer whites. Or you can use a sheer pale pink curtain to amp up the light that comes in the window. If it’s pale enough, it’ll register as neutral and complement the bolder browns or oranges he might prefer. 

How many throw pillows are there?
(a) A kabillion! Don’t touch them. GET OFF THE BED TILL I CAN CLEAR IT!
(b) There are a couple, but they’re clearly marked, and their shams can go in the washing machine if they happen to be slept on.
(c) The pillows that match the sheets count as throw pillows. The end.

When I broke up with someone after, like, eight years, the first thing I did was go out and buy the pinkest duvet cover I could find. I absolutely loved it: It was a soothing tweedy pattern with satin ribbons running down the middle. It was the perfect place to bring my now-husband for assignations, but once he moved in, my declaration of independence felt forced. I upgraded to a gray-and-white batik pattern that I love just as much. And, uh … actually, I never upgraded the shams. I’m kind of a guy when it comes to pillows.
 
What’s the flower count?
(a) Cabbage roses. Everrrrrywhere.
(b) There are flowers, but they’re kinda sexy Georgia O’Keefe ones.
(c) There are branches. Big ones. Get it?

Honestly, I adore cabbage roses. But that’s why I had daughters. I actually really love the trees-and-branches trend. If that’s too literal, almost anything by Marimekko treads the thin line between bold and brash, woods and garden.
 
The best advice I found on this subject came not from an expert in an article but a comment on a forum: Find a theme you both like and build on it. For one couple, it might be an antique look that starts with a piece they found on their honeymoon. For another, a color scheme is enough of a jumping-off point. For me, a silk rug inherited from my grandpa’s store adorns the wall above our headboard, and inspired the rest of the colors in the room – very Armenian of us, believe me.
 
And of course, the bottom line is this: The more comfortable you make it, the less it matters what your bed looks like. If it feels good, it looks good to anyone.
 
Is your master bedroom a he, she, or we? How did you come to an agreement?

Image via Coyuchi.com

A prototype for a new type of zero-energy-consuming house is on display in Los Angeles, and of course it’s very impressive. But you know what I love about it? It’s poofy!

Blah blah blah zero footprint, yadda yadda solar energy. Did I mention it’s poofy?

They also modified an X-Box Kinect so that all you have to do is wave at lights to turn them on and off. It’s like the clapper, but silent.

It’s an award-winning design from students at the Southern California Institute of Architecture (SCI-Arc) and California Institute of Technology (Caltech), and it’s actually an amazing design that I wish I could implement today. Here, let me show you around.

This adorable new house is called CHIP, which stands for Compact, Hyper-Insulated Prototype. Since our homes use almost 25 percent of the energy in the U.S., the students were looking for ways that home design could use less energy.

The shape of the house maximizes the amount of space they can devote to solar panels, which is why you lose the peaked roof – a house-shape designed to keep snow from building up, brought to America with European settlers. Who needs a peaked roof in the desert? Nobody, that’s who. A little slant keeps the rain moving downward, and solar panels get all the room they need.

But why the house-cozy? That’s insulation. Putting it on the outside is faster, more effective, and adorable. Plus, it’s vinyl, so it's waterproof -- and think of the colors!

Meanwhile, the inside of the home has more square footage – since the inside of the walls can be exposed – and there are more nooks and crannies for built-in shelves. The water system maximizes rain and gray-water use.

CHIP has its downsides, of course. The interior doesn’t have separate rooms, because an open-air space makes it easier to cool naturally. Such an arrangement would make for quite a bit of awkwardness for families and house guests, so they’d better figure that little glitch out toot sweet.

And then? I’m first in line for the poofy house. In pink!

How do you like the poofy house?

Images courtesy of Darius Siwek for Chip2011.com , used with permission.

I was looking for sheets at Bed, Bath and Beyonce when I came across a line of home decor products called K by Keaton, designed by Oscar-winning actress Diane Keaton. How did I not hear of this before? Everyone talks about Paltrow and Remodelista and Courteney Cox. When it comes to style, I thought I might be more partial to the real-girl glamour of Ms Keaton. So I took a look.

Keaton was a style icon in the '70s, her Annie Hall days: adorable, boyish, casual, chic. Unfortch, she spawned a generation of women who thought throwing a floppy hat on over a horrible outfit = style. And her own choices were often less than perfect -- see her infamous Oscar outfit. Blech.
 
So is she great or horrible? She’s both! Just last year she appeared simultaneously in a Vogue article (photographed by Annie Leibovitz!) and ads for that apex of sparkly-granny non-style, Chico’s. Great! Horrible!
 
So what’s the verdict? Great? Horrible? Annie Hall ... or Mama’s Boy?

I give the collection a thumbs up. The designs are simple and solid, like stew for your living room. Nothing sparkly, nothing Chico-y.
 
For instance, there’s this very simple, understated dinnerware (12-piece Dinnerware Set, $59.99). About it, she says, “Here’s to honest food, simple times, and handsome dishes.”

These come in basic but really pleasing colors and can be mixed and matched with the accent plates ($24.99 for a set of four), like Fiestaware.


 
For me, the mark of good dinnerware is the soup bowls. Are they hefty? Will they hold a lot? Will they also let the soup cool off while I’m eating it? I’m very picky about my soup bowls. Voila, the perfect size and shape: round, yet with edges, and BIG ($6.99):

 
These dessert plates ($4.99) are cute, but would I spring for them? Probably not. When it comes to dessert plates, I do like them to be a little crazy. And everyone in my house would fight over the one that says “Bite.”

 

But look, look, how great is this bedding collection ($40-$230)? The duvet covers, in simple cotton and linen, invoke the ease and comfort of old barns, with old-timey stripes or zig-zags lending a classic touch. The contrasting throws are 100 percent wool ... yum. “Who says blankets have to be plain? When did that happen?” Keaton says. (Oh my God, is Nora Ephron writing her marketing copy?) She invokes “great American plaids and stripes and symbols from our collective past,” and I’m on board. Why not!

I mean, the prices aren’t great, but, hey, it’s a designer collection. And we all have a drawer full of those 20 percent off coupons, right?
 
How do you like the K by Keaton collection? Whose designer collection would you like to see?

All images from Bed Bath and Beyond

My sister and I used to share a car, and I was always amazed at the panache with which she would do car maintenance and repairs, like top off the oil and windshield-wiper fluid.

"Oh my God, you’re like a mechanic," I’d say, watching from our stoop as she strode purposefully from trunk to engine with mysterious bottles.

"It’s not hard," she’d inform me.

Maybe not. But despite the fact that I can negotiate a car purchase with terrifying efficiency, cook amazing meals that'd make Emeril Lagasse say "BAM!", and share the stage with male improvisers without fear, I was convinced that if I'd attempt such tasks, I’d somehow end up with oil spurting across my windshield on the New Jersey Turnpike.

But when I got a fix-it ticket last week and looked at our dwindling bank account, I knew I had to try a few simple car fixes, including fixing my broken tail light. And you know what? It wasn't hard. My sister’s right.

I hate when that happens.

Here’s what I did to fix it:

Step 1: Went to my local auto supply store (I think it’s a Kragen’s), and asked the guy at the counter for a light bulb for a 2004 Honda CRV brake-light. He walked over and handed me a $7 item.

Step 2: Looked at my car’s manual, which gave a step-by-stop guide to dismantling the thingies that the brake-lights are in.

Step 3: Conned my stepson into coming downstairs to watch my daughter and step on the brakes when I asked him to, so I could know for sure which light to replace.

Step 4: Realized that it was really hard to get at the right-side brake-light thingy, and ended up maneuvering my Phillips-head screwdriver through the hinge side of the rear door (I am awesome!).

Step 5: Continued following the instructions to pop out the bulb and pop in the new one.

Step 6: Realizing my stepson had vanished upstairs, I asked a passersby to look at the tail-light and verify I’d done the right one.

Step 7: Jumped around with my daughter whooping, "I’m a mechanic! I’m a mechanic!"

Step 8: Went upstairs, where my husband said, "That took a long time, did something go wrong?"

Step 9: Decided not to mind, because I saved us a hundred bucks. I wonder what else I can fix?!

Step 10: Drove us to the local precinct, where the very nice officer above signed off on the ticket and greeted my girls, who now excitedly talk about "That nice policeman guy like Officer Buckle!"

Now, that I look at YouTube, I see a ton of videos showing how to do just this. So if  you’re intimidated by basic maintenance, but your family budget could use a little assistance, sack up and give it a try. Honestly, people, if I can do it, you can.

Are you already good at stuff like this, or could you use encouragement when it comes to matters of the car? What’s your favorite I-did-it fix?


Image via Amy Keyishian

My daughter has developed a fear of dogs. I don’t know why: I adore dogs, and the day care where she spent a glorious, happy year had two wonderful pups she would hug and pat with joy. But even the smallest strange dog on the street makes her stiffen with terror and, more often than not, leap up into my arms with a grunt of alarm.

This, however, doesn’t stop people from announcing that their often off-leash dogs are “totally friendly” and allowing them to leap upon my children without warning.

Which is why I was gratified to read a great blog post from dog walker Jessica Dolce about "MDIFs," and why it’s a bad idea to sic them on other dogs -- and, I’d like to add, children.

What's a MDIF, you ask?

"MDIF" is an acronym for "My Dog Is Friendly," the rallying cry of people who don’t respect boundaries and don’t teach their dogs to respect them, either. Of course, these are big-hearted folk who love their dogs, who know their dogs mean well, and who only mean well themselves, and I don’t mean to suggest otherwise.

Except that a stubborn refusal to respect a boundary kind of kicks you out of the category of "kind-hearted, but obtuse" and into the category of "willfully ignorant to the point of being a total passive-aggressive butthat."

Or, as this blog poster more eloquently puts it, "You’re robbing me of my right to choose whether we interact with your dog. Not cool."

Like, for instance, the woman who stood there and watched her hyperactive white terrier hurl himself into my kid’s stroller, leaving scratch-marks on her chest (through her clothes!), and vanished in the time it took me to check on my kid. That's irresponsible, crappy, and not helping the cause of the pit-bull lovers, lady.

There are always people who say things like "If you’re so scared of dogs, you should stay home," or "Be more aware when you’re out in the world, so you can avoid things that frighten you." Okay. Sure. I’ll stay home as much as possible. But if I’m hoping to show my kid (or my dog) that the world isn’t a terrible, frightening place, and ease her way toward normalcy, we have to leave the house sometime.

Also, if you find yourself saying something like that? You’re kind of a schmuck.

Of course, there are plenty of "MKIFs" out there, too, as in "My Kid Is Friendly!" These are typically people who let their kids get in your baby’s face -- or who do it themselves -- without respecting that kid’s boundaries. I saw this happen at a party recently: My own teenage stepson, who prides himself on being able to connect with kids, tried to engage an awkward 8-year-old, possibly on the spectrum, who rudely asked him to leave him alone. He grumbled about this "bratty kid" for days, and I couldn’t get him to understand the kid needed space, asked for it badly, but still deserved to have his boundaries respected. (Which is something I need to remember with my own kid, too.)

So, let’s review: If you let your dog scare someone, and you think you’re fixing it when you brightly announce, "My dog is friendly," you’re a MDIF. This is not good.

If you have a dog who is in need of space, this is a Dog In Need Of Space, or a DINOS. And I feel for you.

And if you, like me, have a Kid In Need Of Space, well, that’s a KINOS. So far, my strategy in dealing with my KINOS has been to spot a dog ahead of us, tell my daughter calmly that "a nice-looking dog is coming, and he looks okay, but we’ll make sure, okay?" This has done a lot to calm her down, and the dog-owners have taken the hint and allowed us enough space to say hello without getting a face-full of paw.

In conclusion, don’t be a MDIF or a MKIF.

Do you have a KINOS? Have you run into a MDIF -- or a MKIF? How do you handle it?



Photo courtesy of Purblind/Flickr

I’m not here to complain about big government gone out of control. But I am, in some cases, bothered by the fact that cities step up their ticketing quotas in the wake of budget shortfalls. Particularly in this recent instance from Washington, DC … well, yeah, it does seem like someone’s gone a little overboard in the ticketing department.

You are not going to believe the reason why the sanitation department gave a cat-owning resident of the District of Columbia a ticket ...

Here's the back story: A woman in Washington, DC decided to make her own cat litter out of ripped up newspaper because clumping cat litter contains harmful chemicals. It works for her -- and many others -- quite well. (Here’s a how-to, which just might revolutionize your cat care not to mention your grocery bill.)

But it did not work for the sanitation department. They dug through her trash, found newspaper in the regular trash, and wrote her a ticket. Several tickets. Thousands of dollars worth of tickets. And then they denied her appeal.

*Cue sound of infuriated steam coming from my ears.*

In theory, these tickets are actually a good idea: They do a great job of forcing people to recycle when they’re too stinkin’ lazy to be bothered separating paper from plastic. But they're shouldn't be used to forced people to recycle cat poop.

I called Robert Reed to explain why. He's the press representative for Recology Sunset Scavenger, the waste-disposal company here in San Francisco (where we also have compost pickup, which is just so cool, and I am going to take a smug moment: Ah.). Reed told me the following bit of useful information about why you absolutely cannot recycle cat poop -- at least not right now:

Cat waste has ammonia, and pregnant women can’t go near it because of toxemia. Paper recyclers are getting more and more sophisticated, but they’re still set up to handle papers and magazines and the inks on them -- not cat waste.

Bottom line: You can’t recycle cat poop, which means this woman shouldn't have been fined. (But you can use recycled paper to make cat poop. Or you can buy versions made from pine or corn. And that’s the straight poop.)

Are you annoyed that this woman would be fined for not recycling her poo? 

Image via insertnamehere.99999/Flickr

How can you raise a dog, bring it to a huge, cold barn to be auctioned off, and walk away without a look or a word of comfort knowing that it'll then be consigned to a life of physical misery and emotional abandonment? I don’t know what is wrong with people.

The video below doesn’t come from PETA or some weirdo fringe group. It comes from the Humane Society of the United States, which took undercover video at several Midwest dog auctions where dogs are sold to prospective breeders -- many of whom likely run puppy mills. True, the video is a few years old, but the point about pets is very relevant even today. (If you can’t stand to watch it, don’t worry. You don't have to. I got the salient details for you.)

See this video on The Stir by CafeMom.

Here's what happens: The video shows cages and cages of hundreds of dogs stacked on top of each other, and the sound of the frantic barking is cacophonous and overwhelming. Some cower in the backs of their cages, some look helplessly around. More and more are shoved into cages by farmers who look like Dwight Schrute from The Office -- only not nearly as funny.

"Where else are you gonna find something to produce you over $2,000 gross in a year?" an auctioneer yells. "Something?" How is a mother dog reduced to only a "something"? I don’t know how many puppies she would have to produce to make $2K in a year, but I’ll bet it’s an unhealthy amount.

At an auction in Arkansas, dogs were confined to travel cages for seven hours with no food or water. In Kansas, their crates were stuck in pens outside in freezing temperatures, only allowed inside the heated building when it was time to be sold. One beagle went for as little as $10.

And it’s not like life gets better when these dogs go home with their new owners. There’s no heartwarming "forever home" moment. They’re stuck in similar pens to breed litter after litter, which will either be auctioned off in turn or sold in pet stores.

I don’t blame you if you can’t watch this video. Even worse are the “related videos” that come up after. Don’t watch the video if you don’t want to, but also?

Don't buy dogs. Adopt them.

Can you believe people auction off dogs this way?


Image via YouTube

This story really broke my heart because -- in my utterly broke state -- every time I sit on my uncomfortable, lumpy old couch, I wish for a new couch. I have it all picked out: It's big enough to sleep on or slouch on, wide enough for sitting or snoozing, with a chaise on the right side, which would be in front of our bookcase, but that’s okay.

One thing I never wish for is a recliner, because I harbor the paranoid suspicion that such an item would only be lying in wait to devour a helpless pet or baby. And it turns out my paranoid suspicions are entirely correct!

Check out this story of the couch that ate the cat, and the family that made the ultimate sacrifice.

The Milliken family got a brand-new couch for Christmas. It was big, it was cushy, it reclined. But just two days later, they realized their six-month-old Siamese kitten, Mia, was MIA (missing in action).

They listened carefully and heard a pitiful wail coming from right below the reclining part of the couch, where Kim, the mom of the family, was sitting. Mia had climbed inside the couch and was helplessly wedged there.

Quick-thinking Kim slid carefully off the seat, and the family -- a mom, a dad, and two big kids -- gathered around and tried to free the cat. They called neighbors (an off-duty cop and the one-man volunteer fire brigade). They invoked a box cutter, a kitchen knife, a hammer and a crowbar. They spent 90 sickening, anxiety-ridden minutes in a desperate struggle. And in the end, tragically, they had to say goodbye ...

To the couch.

The cat was panicked, breathless, nearly lifeless, but fine -- and barely needed a trip to the vet. But the couch. The beautiful, comfortable, brand-new couch … was toast. Of course I know they did what they had to do, but I mourn for the couch.

I hope the replacement was free (shouldn't a recliner be pet-proof?!) and stays in one place!

Would you be able to sacrifice a brand-new couch to save a cat’s life? What if it were a really old and smelly cat? (I’M KIDDING, STOP THE HATE!)

Image via NewsChannel5.com

How far would you go to save your beloved pet? Ivan Salas, 19, recently proved that he would do whatever it takes. He and his father were hiking in the mountains in California when the dad tossed a bottle of water off the cliff.
 
The family dog, Lola, accustomed to being helpful in every way, leaped to "fetch' the bottle ended up sliding 100 feet down the steep cliff. Seeing his beloved dog in peril, the son did some quick thinking. Or, I should say, he didn’t think at all: He just leaped off the cliff after the dog.
 
What happened next? It's a cliffhanger. Literally.

Ivan grabbed a rock, grabbed Lola, and waited, perched perilously high above solid ground as his dog shivered with fear. Onlookers called 911, the local news began a nail-biting vigil, and the LAPD arrived in a helicopter -- but had to back off, fearing the whapping blades would just let loose a landslide that’d bring them down, and not in a Stevie Nicks way.

The whole time, Salas clung to the side of the cliff. When he saw the helicopter approach and retreat, he says he nearly lost hope and thought he was going to die. Finally, firefighters rappelled down the side of the cliff and carried him -- and Lola -- to safety. Actually, they took Lola first, then Salas, but that's probably because the dog couldn't be reassured everything was going to be all right. The ordeal took a sickeningly, terrifying 90 minutes.

People. It's lovely that this guy loves his dog so much, but this story could have had an absolutely horrifying ending. Years ago -- maybe even 20 -- a woman jumped into the Hudson River in New York to save her dog, and ended up drowning herself (I think the dog was actually saved). This still haunts me.

On the other hand, I don't think I could just stand by if my pet were in peril, so I get it. I just don't know what I'd do if my kid were the one on that cliff.

video platformvideo managementvideo solutionsvideo player

Would you leap off a cliff to save your dog? What if your 19-year-old son did?

Image via ABC News

I love hand-me-downs. I shop at consignment stores, and when I’m done with my found treasures, I donate them to local charities. But it would never occur to me to do this with my home.

Yet, for some homeowners, especially ones in foreclosure, donating a house to charity may be the only way out of an awful situation -- and it seems like it could even be a path back to financial well-being. It's becoming quite popular, in fact, because it not only allows the homeowner who can't sell her/his house a way out, but also the donated homes -- many of which are renovated and resold -- add new value to the neighborhood. Here’s how it works:

According to an industry website, as long as you’ve owned your home for more than a year, you can deduct the full market value of the home from your taxes. And if that full market value is more than your income (which it sure as heck is around these parts, I can tell you), you can spread that tax break over five years.

That could make a huge difference to a family looking to get out from under an upside-down mortgage without defaulting.

On the other hand, if you’re just looking to ditch your meth house, you might have less luck. In areas with really bad foreclosure problems, charities have been able to get super-picky about what kind of properties they’ll take. Given the current state of my abode, they’d walk in and run out screaming. Especially if they’re allergic to playground sand in the carpet.

Giving up your home is never easy, I’m sure. But if this is on the up-and-up, it could be a real boon for people who would otherwise just have to walk away from an investment and eat the down payment.

And it’d be really cool if I could walk into my local "Out of the Closet" and find a dream house for $14.50! (But darn it, that’s not how it works. Charities sell the homes themselves -- with Habitat for Humanity being the obvious fixer-upper recipient -- and pocket the profit, however small.)

Would you donate your house if you couldn’t sell it? 

Image via taxbrackets.org

New Year's resolutions are boring enough when humans are making them. But this article, which actually asked celebrities what resolutions their pets would make, is even lamer. Lea Michele says her cats would resolve to stop messing with her cotton balls. Katherine Heigl says her dog would resolve to be less aggressive to strangers. Josh Duhamel says his dog would resolve to get more exercise, just like the rest of us -- yawn!

So what did I do? I'm so intrepid, I went out and interviewed the celebrity pets I think are interesting about their resolutions. Wanna hear what they said? (Actually, I didn't really do this, of course. But if I did, I think it'd go a little something like THIS:)

Reese Witherspoon’s donkey: "My New Year’s resolution is to get adopted by someone with a less pointy chin. Every time she kisses me, I flinch because I feel like Janet Leigh in the Psycho shower."

Michael Jackson’s tigers: "Well. We’re terribly sorry that Michael died, and we’re glad that Tippi Hedren had us sent to a preserve. But given that she came to tell us about Michael and hoped we’d understand via telepathy, if we’re adopted a third time, we'd like to settle with someone who’s not bat-poop crazy."
 
Leonardo DiCaprio’s tortoise: "I resolve to live long enough to forget my owner’s performance in The Man in the Iron Mask."

Mike Tyson’s pigeons: “No resolutions here! Everybody’s happy! Yep! All cool! No complaints! (H*E*L*P!)"

Miley Cyrus’s dog Sophie: "I resolve to be less baked. Sike! I’m-a get MORE BAKED! Woo! I love being owned by Miley Cyrus!"
 
Martha Stewart’s French Bulldogs: "We resolve to figure out how to add interest and sparkle to our doggy coats without resorting to glue guns or, God forbid, the dreaded bedazzler. It’s a bad thing."

Ryan Gosling’s dog George: "I resolve to invite Amy Keyishian to my house and nudge the door open when my owner is showering. Wait, I didn’t say that. Stop typing! Type what I really said!"
 
Taye Digg’s dog Sammy: "Same as George. Wait, what is wrong with this woman?"
 
If your pet could make a New Year’s resolution, what would it be?

Photo via HackBitz/Flickr

Earl Campbell had been a police officer in Ocean Beach, Florida for years when he realized his partner, Charlie, was suffering, in chronic pain and unable to continue working. He alerted higher-ups, but was told Charlie couldn't retire or take time off until he jumped through several hoops.

Charlie couldn’t speak up for himself, because Charlie is a dog. A K-9 officer who’d been injured in the line of duty several years earlier. His injuries had slowly gotten worse, and his hind legs were barely working. Earl asked for help for his dog and says he encountered roadblock after roadblock.

So in the end, the Ocean Beach police department lost two good cops: one with fur, and one with – well, no fur.

Earl decided to quit the force -- and took his dog with him. Now they're both regular citizens -- a man and his dog, and they like it that way.

A lot of working animals become pets. Shouldn't it always be that way in the end?

It's obvious that, while every dog I've ever owned has been a total spaz, many dogs love working and are happiest when focused on a task. Still, even the bossiest shepherd gets old and tired and needs to rest with the people he's spent his life working for.

After fighting with his department to be allowed to take Charlie off the force, Campbell was so frustrated that he followed up Charlie's retirement with his own, emailing his resignation from the passenger seat of his car, after paying $1 to "buy" Charlie officially. He was done.

After $6,000 of spine surgery, paid for by Campbell, Charlie's now the family dog. Just like military dogs who, thanks to the Department of Defense Military Working Dog Adoption Program, can be adopted after a lifetime of service.

With the movie War Horse currently playing in theaters, working animals in perilous situations are on a lot of our minds. Whether or not they should be placed in danger for our sake is a question for another day; I think we can all agree that once they've done that, they should be given a loving home for their last few years.

Have you adopted a working dog? How did it work out? Was it a difficult transition?

Image via LydiaShiningBrightly/Flickr

I love the idea of getting people to donate to the J/P Haiti Relief Organization, which was set up by Sean Penn and is hard at work redeveloping the beleaguered country and the millions still strugging in the wake of the 2010 earthquake.

On the other hand, a new promo for the charity features celebs like LL Cool J, Zooey Deschanel, Miley Cyrus, Soleil Moon Frye, and Sarah Silverman talking about what home means to them is kinda … not what home means to me. I know they mean well and all, and they seem nice, but talking about their homes just makes me roll my eyes, possibly because I'm flattened with envy at the thought of their chi-chi LA mansions.
 
Whatever the reason, why don't you watch the video and tell me which celebs talk about home in a way you agree with.

See this video on The Stir by CafeMom.

This is reflected on the donation page, where each celeb’s donations are tallied (when you donate $42 or more, you are entered to win something signed by one of these celebs). She’s got the most by far.
 
The first runner up is Soleil Moon Frye, who I’d actually argue is no longer a celeb, except that she’s such a cute mom and an avid tweeter, so okay. She says “home is where my babies are,” and corny as it seems, that’s the truth for me, too.
 
As for LL Cool J, he says that his home is at the gym. Say what? (Then again, when I watched the video of him signing a bracelet I could win, I confess my eyes drifted to his biceps and I drooled onto my keyboard, so um … time well spent at “home,” LL, and you kinda still can do no wrong by me.)
 
Zooey Deschanel, I love ya. I really do. And I love your show, The New Girl. But “Home is what I miss when I’m away” is meh.
 
As for heroic organizer, Oscar winner, and sexy mother-effer Sean Penn, when he says “Home means many things to many people,” I couldn’t help but blurt out “Dude, home is what you had to leave because you couldn’t keep it in your pants.”
 
The only other false note is their terrible, awful tag line: “Help us help Haiti home.” That is too many H’s. I feel like they’re all going to hyperventilate while paining themselves to give the most humble line-reading.
 
But I still think it’s a great charity, and at least I’m on the site and likely to donate. Plus it got me thinking about what “home” means to me.

Having moved across the country and often feeling like I belong on neither coast, I do ponder what feels like home to me. Onstage with my husband and comedy partner – that’s where I feel the most peaceful. In bed with my sleeping daughters – that’s where I feel the most complete. Waiting for my takeout at Hunan Delight in Brooklyn and chatting with my old neighbors – that’s where I feel warm, recognized, and in my element. But “home.” That’s so hard to pin down.

Hmm. Maybe my "home" is under LL Cool J.
 
What means “home” to you? 

Image via YouTube

I really should have thicker skin if I’m going to do stuff like this. I was at the park with my friend and her daughter, and as we were piling into the car to go home, I got a text from another friend asking “Are you going to Target today?”

“Hell no,” I said, imagining post-Christmas crowds of bargain shoppers.

She replied with a link to an article about a mom in Texas who was harassed for breastfeeding in a Target there. Nurse-ins were happening at Targets around the country, it said, with photos posted to a Facebook page.

“Change of plans!” I announced, and we pointed the car toward the nearest Target, and squeezed off the shot you see here. I thought mine would be among a bunch of other pics, and quickly forgotten, like when we protested Facebook’s blocking of breastfeeding photos a couple of years ago.

But it's sticking around, and people are continuing to comment. This could get interesting.

The ride to Target was really fun. The girls in back were asking “Where are we going?” so my friend and I told the story: “A mommy was giving her baby num-num in a store, and they told her ‘You can’t do that!’ and she said ‘Yes I can!’ But they didn’t listen, so she went home and told her friends, and now we’re all going to take pictures of us giving babies num-num to send the store so they won’t do that ever again.”

“Tell the story of the mommy and the num-num again!” they cheered from the back seat, and we felt like latter-day freedom riders, only we faced much less peril. (I mean, duh.)

At the store, we ran in, boggled at the bargains (they really were quite amazing), and took the pictures you see here. This is in Colma, California, about 10 minutes south of San Francisco. It’s a town known, essentially, for its malls and its cemeteries; that’s basically all you’ll find there. This Target, plus the Carter’s outlet and the Michaels that share the same parking lot, has seen me breastfeed more times than I’d like to count, and everyone there has always been helpful and kind, so I felt sure they wouldn’t mind my using them to encourage their corporate office to be more explicit about the company’s policies. Indeed, they didn’t even blink (or, really, notice) when I took this playful pic.

We were back in the car within 10 minutes, and I was home and cooking dinner before you could say “Hey, they sell nursing bras here, too!”

I uploaded to the group site, to my home page, and to Target Baby (it's still there -- the page is just really busy). That’s when things started to get loud. The fact is, Target has – to its credit – been running around trying to undo the horrible publicity that a few stupid, thoughtless, and frankly bigoted Texans has brought them, and I acknowledged that in the comments under my photo. Nonetheless, dozens of women have posted that even though they support breastfeeding, they find my photo to be EXTREME! And OBNOXIOUS! And PART OF THE PROBLEM!

One woman actually said this photo made her throw up a little in her mouth. Never mind that that's the most overused movie quote in history. I just -- really? What is so throw-uppy about this? I seriously worry for the sanity of someone who feels the need to hurl because I'm being silly with the side of my boob and my 16-month-old daughter.

I’ve stopped reading the comments unless I recognize the commenter’s name – my friend Deirdre, an LC and midwife in Nyack, New York, who has given me immeasurable support with my weird questions over the years, cracked me up when she called breastfeeding covers “boob burkas.” I had to also point out that, well, I often don’t expect to see a butt-crack sticking up out of low-rise jeans, but when that happens, I don’t act offended and tell the person to cover up. I bite my tongue and go about my day, because it doesn’t really make a difference, and I don’t have the right to object.

I’m leaving the picture up, and I’m not really bothered by the mild objections. But I am surprised that something so obvious and playful would create such a scornful reaction.

What do you think? Isn’t it obvious I’m being playful and silly in support of someone far away, or do you think I deserve the verbal spanking?

This is the first year that I’m packing a lunch every day (well, three times a week anyway) for my kid, and I’m a bit depressed about how much garbage we’re suddenly producing. I’m paranoid about germs and food safety, and as a result overuse plastic sandwich bags, snack bags, plastic wrap, and assorted other landfill-filling crap.
 
But enough is enough! The other day, I was perched next to my daughter, Penelope, on a miniature chair, sharing lunch, when I looked around the octagonal table and saw that almost every single kid had some kind of adorable eco-friendly food container in his or her lunchbox.
 
Now I have the lust for these -- they're washable, long-lasting, and in many cases actually better for the flavor of the food.

Reusable Sandwich Bags. Lunchskins ($8.99 at Drugstore.com) are the cutest, but there are many versions of the leak-resistant, washable lunch- and snack-bag. They’re even on Etsy, which means that you could probably make your own in a pinch. I’d love a set of six of these. I’d wash them on the weekend and forget the zipper bags. (Of course, I could also just use wax bags clipped with black binder clips like my sister does, but are they festooned with little red apples? I rest my case.)

Fabric Bowl Covers. Of course, if you’re lucky, you’ve snagged yourself a set of silicone-topped Pyrex bowls (I swear, sometimes I think I only had kids so mine would find their way back home). But for the bowls that don’t have a matching lid, there are these cute Bowl Overs ($20 for a set of 6 at Alder & Co.). If you can’t snag them from the UK site, google “fabric bowl covers” and you’ll find a bevy of small-fry producers and a how-to or two.

Microwave Cooking Covers. Genius. How many times have I plopped a small plate over a big plate to avoid using plastic wrap in the microwave? Answer: Too many. And that’s about to change. Something like these snazzy little Norpro food covers ($5.09 for a set of 4 at Amazon), made of silicone, slap right on top to cook your food efficiently without producing one of those weird sodden hot jellyfish I always end up with.

Oiled Wraps. I have a pal who gets cloth napkins by the bushel and uses them to wrap her kids’ food. Bonus: They double as, well, a napkin, duh. But what if you have a low tolerance for ooze? Several companies make different-size fabric food wraps, such as the ones from Abeego (assorted prices at Abeego.ca) coated with beeswax. You wash them in the sink (eh! I’d rather deal with ooze) and snap them closed with string closures. So. Stinkin’. Cute.

 

Straws. To my shame, I found myself balking at buying straws because none of them said BPA-free. I didn’t want to admit that because I thought it made me sound like a crazy person, but guess what? I’m not the only one! Not only did I find a cute Aqua To-Go Tumbler (with a straw) for $8.99 at Target, I also found glass straws with a lifetime guarantee for $7.50 at GlassDharma.com. (Just keep them away from your nose, Charlie Sheen.)

Lunch Boxes. There are scads of bento-style lunchboxes about. Seriously, it’s overwhelming, and there are thousands of images on Flickr of cutely-packed lunches in them. I think my favorite are the raspberry red ones for $16.95 from Brightbin, though if I were going to spend $45, I’d get the Bento Kit from Laptop Lunches. I could drive myself crazy shopping for these, so I’ll stop now. 

Which of these greener options would you want in your kitchen?

 
Images via Drugstore.com, Alderco.com, Norpro.com, Abeego.ca, Target.com, LaptopLunches.com

When I was growing up, Christmas wasn't always white. But it was, without fail, bitterly cold. We might have stepped outside long enough for a photo op, but mostly it was playing with cousins inside and admiring our new hats, gloves, scarves, long underwear, fuzzy socks, electric blankets, seven-hour hand-warmers (please, I only wish they had existed then), and earmuffs.

Which is why it was such a shock to move to California. No, it's not beach-friendly all year. But after my first winter here, I realized I hadn't experienced any of the usual winter woes: frozen tears, chapped nose, flaky scalp, lizardy skin.

Of course, I also missed any chance at a White Christmas. People here freak out at a flurry, shiver when it's 50 degrees, and truck snow into the middle of town for one-day sledding events. (See photo to the left.)

If you're shivering your way through the holiday season, maybe it would amuse you to see how Christmas looks in warmer climates. Like, for instance ...

There's something so insanely incongruous about palm trees and tinsel in this San Diego scene. The green of the tinsel is so garish against the natural green of the fronds! It's like they're yelling, "We're supposed to appear in front of BARE trees. It's in our contract!"

The poor Nutcracker standing guard over this building in Puerto Rico looks like he's sweating his wooden/ballon-ey cojones off.

Holiday fact: Hawaiians really know how to party. I love how this display winks at the Santa tradition and makes it hu'i-hu'i! (Apparently that means cool. I dunno. Any Hawaiians want to weigh in on this?)

When I think of Rockefeller Center in New York City, and how it looks like Christmas got a stomach virus and vomited copiously all over the square, I have to laugh at this one, poor, lost-looking Christmas decoration bravely and hanging in there to bring holiday "cheer" to Florida. Can he get some kind of medal?

Only in Disneyland (well, and probably Disney World) do you mix bare arms with furry gloves and Santa hats. Warm yourself by this chickie's thousand-watt smile.

And of course, what's more seasonal than a menorah festooned with fuchsia? Well, it is Israel after all.

Does a warm weather winter seem weird to you, or do you live somewhere with a non-white Christmas?

Images via ercwttmn (San Diego), Chispy2 (Puerto Rico), yukihiro.m (Hawaii), Elin B (Florida), Jamesongravity (Disneyland), zeevvees (Israel)/Flickr

It's a Christmas miracle! A family in Florida woke one morning to discover that their collection of holiday yard decorations -- valued at $500! -- had been stolen. But in the spirit of Christmas, they magically reappeared!

On the suspect's own lawn less than a block away!

Seriously, people. Who steals Christmas decorations and stashes them in their own front yard in the same neighborhood?

Some might call this sad. Or stupid. I call it: a holiday gift beyond measure. People this crazy and stupid remind me that no matter what dumb thing I do today, I’m not the biggest idiot or the meanest Grinch or the craziest cranky person.

Thanks to the greatest surveillance video ever filmed, police determined that 18-year-old Guadalupe Valdez and several accomplices unplugged the decorations from the front yard of the Alemendarez family and moved them to Valdez's yard less than a block away -- with all the businesslike focus of shoppers choosing purchases at the mall.

(Hey wait a minute, maybe that's a good defense for them! They thought it was a Black Friday midnight sale at Wal-Mart, and got the address wrong! Hooray, I'm a lawyer. That'll be $250 an hour, please.)

Among the items they stole were: Mickey Mouse on a rocking horse that has a glowing head; penguins in winter garb, sitting in an igloo; and Snoopy re-enacting a scene from the Vampire Diaries.

You know, when people steal necessities, I feel kind of bad. Even if they're drug-addled and irresponsible, I think, "At least they had the presence of mind to realize they needed diapers and formula." But nobody NEEDS lawn ornaments, do they?

If I think about it too hard, my head just hurts.

Do you have a neighbor whose lawn ornaments you'd like to steal?

Image via Roblisameehan/Flickr

Tonight is the first night of Chanukah! You know what that means? While you Gentiles still have time to get overnight shipping on your last-minute gifts and decorations, we Jews are totally screwed!

I realized last night that my sisters and their families will be stopping by tonight for a little light-up-the-winter cheer. Though it's not a big to-do, I did want to make some cute homemade Chanukah decorations. I scoured Pinterest for stuff that wasn't shaped like dreidels and candles (come on, people, surely we can do better than that) and threw together these neat-o ideas in only a few hours. (Note: A quick color-change can make these decoration appropriate for Christmas, too.) Take a look:

Felt banners (above) are all the rage, and I love them. But I'm so not handy with a sewing machine. No problem! When I went to my local reuse warehouse and saw books and books of fabric samples practically free for the taking, I was struck by inspiration. A little ribbon, some iron on-letters, and a pair of pinking shears later ... whaddaya think?

Next up, this construction-paper flower was super-easy. It was just a question of cutting out 1-inch strips and using a staple and some tape. Would it have been even easier with double-sided tape? Yes, yes, it would. But too bad, I didn't have any. Anyway, these flowers will hang from the archway between our kitchen and living room.

The felt garlands are so pretty! I realized too late that 1) there is something known as bulk felt that you can buy in six-foot strips and 2) that was what I was supposed to get. I like this stuff anyway: It comes from Michael's, and it's made of recycled plastic bottles. I snipped 1-inch lengths and will attach them end-to-end to create a simple, festive garland. It can also be made into little bracelets or go onto a picture frame.

The menorah handprint was a lot of fun with my kids, inspired by a craft they did at school (the Christmas-tree version, below). I'll add a yellow "flame" each night, and my thumb is the shamash. Awesome, no? You can do this one with finger paint, of course. (I just have a low tolerance for finger paint. Does that make me a bad person?)

As promised, here's the Christmas version:

What holiday crafts do you like to make or do with your kids?

Depending on how you look at it, the following story is either about the worst pet in the world or the dumbest pet owner in the world -- you decide.

A duck hunter was riding in a boat in Utah with his dog, and he left his gun lying across the bow of his boat while he got out to rearrange the decoys. Whereupon the dog stumbled on the gun, and shot the guy.

Right in the butt.

Bwaahahaa!

Predictably, the comments on this story mostly identify with the dog -- and the ducks. "The hunter becomes the hunted," one person said. "How does it feel?" Another says, "A dog is a man’s best friend -- until you leave him in a boat with a loaded weapon."

Personally, I think this dog saw a preview of Rise of the Planet of the Apes and got some ideas into his head. Or maybe he saw that episode of Little House on the Prairie where Half-Pint accidentally shoots Pa in the gut by throwing her blanket into the wagon where he’d left his rifle, and thought he’d found a foolproof way to rid himself of Mr. Antler-Headband before Christmas.

The guy should be glad he had a dog with him, rather than a cat. Even on their best days, I usually suspect most cats as having a pearl-handled revolver hidden somewhere in their fur, just waiting for some idiot owner to try that spray-bottle trick on them.

Parrots carry their own projectiles, obviously. Next time I let one sit on my shoulder, I’m checking his guano for grenades. Come to think of it, a hamster could easily cover one in his own fur, so check your furry friends for pins next time you cuddle them.

And watch out for the ducks in Utah. They’re in cahoots with the dogs, apparently. If they drag cats into the mix, nobody will be safe.

Or maybe hunters just need to be a little less blasé about where they leave their weaponry.

What's the worst thing your pet ever did to you?

Image via Ingridtaylar/Flickr

Did you ever go to a doctor that seemed a little distant and remote? Well, in England, doctors are about to get a lot more remote. Literally.

They’re unveiling a pilot plan that allows patients to take certain medical tests at home and upload the results so doctors can remotely monitor their patients. Awesome, right? No more waiting for busses, looking for parking, and spending an hour and a half in the waiting room so you can do a five-minute test. Instead, you can do it all in the comfort of their own home.

Except they haven’t taken one thing into account: Often the homes of most busy moms are no where near as clean and organized as a hospital or doctor's office. In fact, if my doctor monitored me in my home, she’d either call 911 or have me committed.

I tried to imagine what it would be like to hypothetically take certain medical tests at home -- with my kids running around at the same time -- and here's what I think would happen:

Blood glucose:

This seemed easy enough to do at home and much better than sitting around the hospital for four hours as I slipped gently into a headachey coma.

Hour 1: Drank the foul orange soda.  

Hour 2: Took to my bed. Found half a cereal bar squirreled away by my daughter Abby during nap time.

Hour 3: Slept through the blood draw and the kids' pickup from their play date.  

Hour 4: Ate entire contents of the Costco-sized Oreo megabox that I had hidden in the back of the pantry.  

Result: Blood sugar was so high, Starbucks began selling "Amy’s Blood Lattes."

Blood pressure:

This is a great one to do at home because many people get a false high reading at the doctor’s office due to “white-coat syndrome.” I strapped on the cuff and went about my business as it took my BP every 15 minutes.

Reading No. 1: The reading is off the charts -- maybe because it occurred just as I discovered that nobody had put paper in the bottom of the compost container. Must start over.

Reading No. 2.: Oops. Again, just coincidentally, it happened just as I was putting the laundry in the dryer and found a soggy disposable diaper exploded all over everything. Reading off the charts. Started it over.

Reading No. 3: Oh. Oh dammit. COME ON. I thought I’d be calm this time because my two girls were so quite, but just as the cuff started filling, I walked into their room and found they had unrolled an entire dental floss roll and handcuffed themselves together with the miles of minty string.

Reading No. 4: Nap time. Cuff went off just as I was nursing Abby down while Penny cuddled against us. Hospital thought I had died and sent an ambulance, which found me snoring and blissed out on oxytocin.

Result: Paramedics climbed onto couch with us and fell asleep.

Semen Analysis:

If we could do this at home, it would save a lot of time, though my husband would miss the “special room” at the doctor’s office -- the ultimate man-cave, seriously. So we tried it. Well, we tried to try it. We wrote it on the calendar, we made appointments, but I kept falling asleep before we could get to it. Oh my god, we’re turning into one of those couples. Oops, my blood pressure cuff just went off!

Result: We just started couples counseling.

MRI:

Couldn’t do this one. My head wouldn’t fit in the oven. Believe me, folks, I tried.

Exercise electrocardiogram:

Perfect! Why go to a doctor’s office to sweat and work out if I can just do it at home? I snapped the nodes onto myself and started doing one of the TV workouts.

Result: It says I just sat on the couch and the only part of my body that moved was my jaws because I was eating granola while watching the pilates lady. This test is such a liar!

What would happen if a doctor did medical tests in your home?

Image via Big C Harvey/Flickr