Thursday, January 3, 2013

Screw You, Toy Story

Welcome to my first post of 2013 and to yet another year of callous, sarcastic mommy-life-commentary (with just a dash of DIY for funsies! Because nothing says “I craft like Martha” like a potty-mouthed mother). And in case you weren’t sure: If you’re reading this, congratulations! You’ve successfully survived the Apocalypse. Phew. We were all worried for a second. Especially me and my tampon stockpile

Apart from continuing my teacher prep in anticipation of mat leave ending in four days (ack! Don’t even get me started! So much to do, and so little time), I’ve been closely following a new year tradition that, I’m sure, most of you’ve done as well.

You know which one I’m talking about, right? The annual throw-out-as-much-toy-crap-as-possible-to-make-room-for-all-the-new-toy-crap-accumulated-from-Santa-and-other-sadistic-personalities-in-December one? 

Unfortunately, this year something’s been thwarting my attempts at dislodging our home from a mountain of old playthings.

Friggen’  Toy Story.

Yes, the movie. All three movies, actually. Know why? 

Because they make you feel guilty for throwing out, selling, or even donating toys.

Seriously. WTF?

I used to send toys to the donation bag or garbage pile with careless abandon, building on years of being an anal-retentive control freak. Hasn’t been used in two months? Donate! Ave broke a piece off? Chuck it out! Fa-la-la-la-la la-laaa-laaa-laaaaaaaaa.

And  then Mace got into the Toy Story series this past month, and it’s all changed. For me.

It snuck up out of the blue a few nights ago as I was bagging items in the basement for donation. Chuck, donate, chuck, donate, donate. Things were going well until one innocuous little toy fell out of the bag and onto the floor.
"Hi! I'm Red Horsie! I'm really good at sucking and swinging!"
One of Ave’s old highchair toys. And as I bent over to retrieve it, I caught sight of it’s little face.
"Aren't I sweet? SAY IT! SAY I'M SWEET!"
It’s tentatively-smiling, hoping-with-all-it’s-might-“See?-I’m-still-cute!-Please-don’t-Old-Yeller-me” little face.
"I will haunt your dreams ... and nightmares"

Like I said.

Screw. You. Toy Story.

Screw you and my newly-named pile of “memories” that I’m now saving for grandchildren. You can all go straight to hell.

Though of course, I would no longer have the balls to send you there.  


Am I seriously the only parent who’s crazy enough to have this problem because of the movie, or are there any more of you out there?

And on a totally (Totally. Like, not even in the same family) unrelated note, I’ve recently joined the 365Project and would be honoured to get some followers. You can find me at, or just do a user search for thedomesticproject and BAM! There I’ll be.

Haven’t heard of it? 

The 365Project is a site where people attempt to document 365 days straight of their lives with one daily photograph. It’s a really neat idea, and for someone who already shares her personal life like she’s being paid (which I’m not. And why the hell is that, anyways? Oh yeah … because I love oversharing. I’m an oversharing whore. *hangs head in shame*) it’s a natural fit.

What can you expect from my 365Project page? On good days, a nice DSLR shot of whatever’s striking my fancy at the moment. Such as today:
Mmmmm. Love me some pomegranates.

Of course, chances are good that a vast majority of pics will be taken with my Crapberry, of my kids doing something cute.

Or gross. 

Or, you know, both:
She gets her classiness from her mother. And you know you wanna follow.


  1. Toy Story be damned. This sh*t has GOT to go!

    Classic pic. Save that one for the prom date!

  2. I know what you mean about Toy Story! I think what you need to do is find a nice daycare to donate to.....

    1. And submit poor horsie to Lots 'O's evil ways? Not on your life!

  3. Nope, not me. I'm heartless!

    My best friend on the other hand? Has every stuffed animal she has ever owned since birth. I think she buys a new one every month. She also has the "misfit" toys. No, she doesn't have children.

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