All teeth fall out


July 28, 2010

Every night I switch off the light, close my eyes, and make attempts of peace in harmony in my subconscious. I visualize lemon meringue pie and pink bunnies, and how amazing it would be to have bouncy, shiny hair. I visualize Jason Bateman in a speedo, and street tacos, and drinking Prosecco in Union Square.

But as soon as I drift off into sleep, I have an anxiety attack.

My body becomes an angry, dark place and all my muscles clench up like a butt-hole at a proctology appointment. My fists ball up, my spine becomes a crocked disaster, and my jaw gets insanly sore. It’s like my body is telling me, I hate sleep, and I don’t want to do it, no sir, I don’t.

And then my mind chimes in and says, you dumb-ass, sleeping is the most magnificent gift. It’s glorious, and it’s the one thing I look forward to all day. Stop F-ing this up for me!

And thus, a war is waged.

When I wake up in the morning, I’m like, what the crap? Why do my teeth hurt? Why is my arm all the way over there, that doesn’t seem natural. And why can’t I look left anymore?

I can deal with a sore body. That’s fine. I can do yoga or stretch to work the kinks out (although I never do). But my mouth is another story.

The teeth thing really bothers me, I have dreams of my teeth shattering and crumbling into pieces. Like those sugar sculpting tv shows on the Food Network. You know where they spend 8 hours making a 5-foot piñata out of delicate pink and blue sugar, and then they have to move the thing 20 inches in front of them to have it judged, and the whole thing shatters, and everyone is like, “OH SHIT!” but honestly, we all knew it was coming. Because it’s a piñata, made of sugar.

So, yeah. My mouth is like the shows on Food Network.

And my teeth are poorly built sugar piñatas.

I used to have a mouth-gaurd that I’d wear at night, but it mysteriously disappeared. I’m not positive, but all signs point to my dog eating it. The recent dry hacking, coupled with her repulsive ability to eat anything, especially if it’s thickly coated in my morning drool, was what ultimately tipped me off.

Thanks Zoey, now all my teeth are going to fall out, and it’s all your fault.

Plus, you owe me 400 dollars. Bitch.

**Totally unrelated note, Zoey doesn’t mind that I call her a bitch, because technically speaking, she is one.

So, why is my mouth so stressed out?

Or, better question, why am I so stressed out?

My life is pretty awesome. I don’t have a schedule that I have to adhere to, and my kids are so frickin’ rad. Seriously, have you met them? You need to, they’re amazing.

I get to do practically anything I want, which means my days are filled with going to the beach, the pool, and the mall, and hanging out with my best friends.

Although, I do touch a lot of poo within a given day, and I get yelled at by both my baby and 3-year-old, and on really special occasions, my mom. I usually have Hudson sitting on my left hip, so that I’m free to dole out snacks for Berlyn with my right hand. I am constantly cleaning up paint, play-doh, and Golden Puffs, meanwhile, my boob is in my baby’s mouth. Oh, and speaking of my boobs, they have lost all discretion, and have been spotted by 3 of my neighbors and at least 4 Container Store employees, and that was just yesterday.

Being a mommy is tough, and even though my mind is okay with it, my body is telling me otherwise.

If I don’t get a vacation from these kids soon, I’m going to end up toothless.

I feel like there’s a joke in there about my husband benefiting from me having no teeth.

But seriously, when all my teeth crumble and shatter into a million pieces like those sugar creations on TV, it won’t be funny.

Okay, maybe a little funny because I can wear one of these:


This happens to me ALL OF THE TIME! I have dreams probably 4-5 nights a week that my teeth are falling out, cracking, crumbling loose etc. and it feels SO REAL!!! Sometimes I’ll be in the middle of a conversation and my teeth just start falling out and the person that I’m talking to doesn’t even seem to care – it was as if I just dropped my pen or something, not that my teeth are falling out all over the floor. I have heard that having dreams that your teeth are falling or that your hair is falling out means that you’re too concerned with your looks. Crap – I have both of those dreams.

by Jamye Jack on July 28, 2010

This is awesome. You’re awesome. I can totally relate! I get eye infections whenever I’m stressed. It’s totally funny because I really truly believe I’m not a very stressed person, but then I get eye infections 3 or 4 times a month. That’s about once a week. Which is about how many times I look up the number to the local loony bin incase I need to commit myself.

And we’re not even thirty yet.

by sarah on July 28, 2010

I have been told that having dreams about your teeth falling out means that you are going to move…OR..that there are unspoken things that you need to say and can’t/won’t. I reckon it is just your minds way of fucking with you and making life that little bit more annoying.

by Toni on July 29, 2010

Dude. I literally feel your pain. Before my big move from the city of Philly to small town beach town in MA, I had some serious teeth grinding issues. And yea, blowie jokes for everyone!

by Yellaphant on July 29, 2010

I wonder if it would be possible to get a cavity in teeth made of sugar.

by Libby on July 29, 2010

I think you’re stressed because you’re a freakin’ genius and brilliant and no one but me has really noticed. Well, maybe Zoe, but besides that, just me.

by Suz Broughton on July 29, 2010

There’s noticeably a bundle to realize about this. I’d love to thanks for the efforts you’ve complete in writing this nice article. I am hoping the matching most excellent work from you in the future as well.

by Recent News on April 23, 2011

Leave a comment

These are a few of my favorite things…


July 21, 2010

I’ve been shopping lately.


But instead of buying stuff, I’ve been putting things in my virtual cart, then I close the computer, and walk away.


I’ve outsmarted myself.

See? That way I don’t buy something senseless.

I’ve already saved thousands of dollars doing this.

Gee, look at me, all savvy, and whatnot.

I guess since I’ve saved thousands of dollars, I could afford to buy something…

Here are a few of my favorite things right now.

What should I get??

Yeah, my vote is for the hippo wall hangers too.


The hippo wall hangers are nice…..but my vote is for the Pugs Not Drugs tote. Mainly because I like the word tote. Especially after saying it a few times. It sounds funny. Tote. Hehe.

by Heather on July 21, 2010

I’m not kidding: I saw the Pugs Not Drugs tote recently and thought about getting it for you for Christmas. But then I got worried that you might think it was cute but not use it. I guess now I know.

by amanda on July 21, 2010

Yeah, you don’t even have to ask. Hippo butts rule. I think you just put the other things up as straw dogs.

Oh, buy a straw dog!

by Libby on July 22, 2010

Definitely the sexy Acapulco pillow w/ the adorable set of speedos on it.

by Michelle on July 26, 2010


by Yellaphant on July 29, 2010

Leave a comment

Pieces of me


July 16, 2010

I had some moles removed today.

I miss them already.

Especially the hairs that grew egregiously out of them.

They were taken from me and then, against their will, put in tubes with tight fitting lids to be taken somewhere unknown.

**Test are being run.

Moles are being sliced open.

Hairs, strewn about.**

But then what?



KFC secret recipe?

I’ve had a few body parts taken; some organs, some teeth, and now some moles.

But where do these things go?

Does the doctor put my placenta in a doggie bag, double-knot it, and alley-oop it into the trash, on top of  a banana peel and used paper towels?

Or maybe all my parts go into a special collection?

Perhaps it’s metal drawer with my name on it.

My drawer would have stickers on it.

Or those bejewled crystals that spell out my name.

In pink. Naturally.

Maybe they store all my pieces in a big freezer, and one day, when they get enough pieces, they can make another me.

It’s like winning the Lottery!

Can you imagine? Two of me?

But the other me wouldn’t be as cute. She’d be all awkward, and globby. She have patchy skin, mainly comprised of discarded moles and old finger nail clippings. She’d have a toothy grin with a total of 6 teeth (4 wisdom teeth and 2 incisors), and her body would be two placentas and two umbilical cords cinching everything in place.

I mean, she’d still be hot.

Just not as cute.


They’ve already started cloning you. And then? The clones will work for the Republican party!

by Libby on July 16, 2010

Naturally, she’d still be hot.

by Suz Broughton on July 18, 2010

I have had quite a few moles removed, being a ranga and all with white skin…sadly I scar like you wouldn’t believe and the amount of people that ask me what the scars on my arms are from in unbelievable. I tell them they are cigarette burns from when I was tortured for being too cool. Naturally they don’t believe me.

by Toni on July 18, 2010

ha! I love this

by Lora on July 19, 2010

Moles are part of the secret recipe? My momma always said they were mushrooms!

by MomZombie on July 25, 2010

Leave a comment

How much alcohol is too much…for your baby?


July 11, 2010

I’m not a party girl.

I don’t like to get drunk.

I don’t like that sick feeling the next morning. Plus there’s always the inevitable drunk poo, and possible vomiting, and honestly, that’s just too many runny bodily fluids for me.

I do, however enjoy the occasional drink.

But because, I’m nursing Hudson, I have to be mindful of how much I drink.

I don’t want a drunk baby on my hands.

Could you imagine?

Wait–on second thought, let’s not imagine.

So I bought these alcohol strip thingies to test my milk before I give it to the Huds.

He appreciates that.

The other night I went out with a few friends, and had two glasses of wine. They were spread out over 3.5 hours, and I even drove home, but by the time I got home I tested my milk, and wouldn’t you know?

It said I was piss drunk.

I tried to reason with the strip.

“Listen here,” I commanded. “I’m not drunk. I had 2 glasses of wine and a heap of pasta. I’m totally sober. If I were drunk could I do this?”

I started to pat my head and rub my belly simultaneously.

“Or what about this?”

I touched my nose with my index finger while closing my eyes and tilting my head back.

“Hell–ooo? Check this out.”

I moon walked across the kitchen floor. I even threw in a lewd crotch grab, to really drive the point home.

Just then my husband walked in, “Who are you talking to? And what the hell are you doing? You’re totally sauced right now, aren’t’ you?I knew I shouldn’t have let you drive home!”

“No, no. Pat, don’t be silly. I’m talking to the milk strip, see?  I’m showing it that I’m sober. It thinks I should dump this milk.”

“Ludacris. Hey let me see that thing.”

Pat grabbed the strip from me.

“Oh Beckey, this thing darker than the chart! You’re totally drunk right now. You should proably lay down. Here, take some Advil. I’m going to dump this milk. It’s tainted with your irresponsibility.”

“Nooo!!! Don’t dump it. That’s liquid gold. Maybe we can make cheese out of it. Or if we dump it into the garden I bet a beautiful tree will grow. Or maybe you can drink it!”

“Seriously Beckey? A tree? You are totally drunk.”

“Fine. Whatever. I’m going to bed.”


OK, I’m sorta glad that I didn’t have this when I was nursing!

by Jane Haag on July 11, 2010

you were still drunk when you wrote this post, weren’t you? god, Beckey. can’t you lay off the liquor for one minute?


by Roxanne on July 12, 2010

You know…if you drank Moscato you could have had 4 glasses of wine!! It is low alcohol and the whole bottle is only worth 3 standard drinks. And it still tastes like full strength wine. I change the lables on bottles of Moscato for full strength wine, then drink like 4 bottles of wine which is only the equivilant of 2 bottles and I am only 3/4 smashed while everyone else is completely legless and I have the rep of being a kick arse drinker. I can do that shit cos I am barmaid and I can swap my lables over while I am working and then look the part when I wander in and get my wine with my friends in the bottleshop that is part of my pub I work at. I may have had a few wines tonight. Like, proper wine. Not that pissy Moscato.

by Toni on July 13, 2010

I think those strips lie. I have done various tests. All lies. Although maybe I was drunk when I came to this realization? Bah. I am gonna try one after breakfast and compare. You know, take a sample before the mimosa. 😉

by melinda on July 13, 2010

I’ll have what Toni’s having.

by amanda on July 13, 2010

Hi Becky…I am Eby’s Husband, Keith. I was reading my wife’s blog and then decided to check out some of the blogs she had linked on her page. Lo and behold I found yours. All I can say is, I can’t stop laughing.

by Keith on July 21, 2010

Very funny post! I can tell that I’m going to enjoy your sense of humor. It is such a shame that you didn’t go ahead and make cheese out of your irresponsible breast milk.

I’m glad you finally read The Jason Show, even though you equate me to brussel sprouts! (Which I also like, my the way. At least you didn’t equate me to something like fruitcake or something.)

by Jason on July 22, 2010

Leave a comment

Ew, so does that mean you touch your baby’s poo?


July 5, 2010

Disposable diapers are gross. Can I get an Amen?

They’re stinky, so you stick them in the diaper pail, which is all fine and good, until the diaper pail fills up, and then you have to empty the thing, which has now morphed into sweaty, stuffed kielbasa that weighs approximately one thousand pounds and smells like a truck stop urinal. And then getting it down the stairs has become a ginormous feat, but you feel good because you streched beforehand, but just as you got halfway  down the stairs, you swear the thing grew arms and legs, because oh crap, the sweat bag just decked you in the jaw.

Okay, so we know they suck, but we use them several times a day because they’re “easy” and the hospital loads us up with them, and all the parenting magazines advertise them, and that backwards R store has them coming out their backwards butt-hole, so we think they’re our only option.

But I’ve stumbled upon another option. Except when I say stumbled, what I really mean is that I sat for hours and hours in front of my laptop researching cloth diapers, while my older child relentlessly beat my baby over the head with a wooden toy.

Of course I would glance up every once in a while to make sure that there were no blood or tears, but a mom’s gotta do what a mom’s gotta do, right?

I’m ignoring you for your own good! I’d yell out from behind the computer.

I’m trying to be environmentally responsible!

I appreciate you!

I’d tell my neglected children.

I started off with ‘green’ disposables. I tried Nature Babycare, Earth’s Best, and Seventh Generation. But those aren’t any better than regular disposables, because the toxins that make them absorbent are still present, plus they still sit in landfills and oceans FOREVER.

And I don’t like the image of a baby walrus chewing on a diaper filled with my baby’s poo.

Nope, not one bit.

So then I looked into gDiapers, which is a cloth diaper with a flushable insert.

And they prepared me mentally, physically, spiritually for the next step, which was totally cloth.

I actually found gDiapers to be more work than all cloth.

There was all this tearing the insert open, and flushing, and plunging my backed up toilet, and ultimatly, I was not a fan.

So now I use BumGenius. They’re all in one, so I don’t have mess with an insert, I just take it off and put a new one  just like a disposable.

Zing- za-dan!

It’s so easy.


Plus no baby walruses have to eat my diapers.

It’s been a few weeks, and I really like it.

And so does Hudson. He hasn’t had a single diaper rash, and I feel good about the organic cotton against his skin.

Plus I’ve heard disposables lower sperm count in males, so his balls are pretty happy about it too.


I love cloth! I didn’t use BumGenius on Isaac but I’ve heard great things about them. We used gdiapers but I just made a cloth insert I didn’t care for the flushables much. Did you ever use the cloth insert they sell now?? I’m definitely using cloth for my next kid and I’m wondering how their cloth insert works. How do the BG hold up at night?

by mariah on July 5, 2010

First time commenter. I don’t remember exactly HOW I found you, but I put you in my reader a few days ago. 🙂

I love my cloth diapers! For three kids, I’ve spent in the neighborhood of $250…to diaper ALL of them. I sew up my own cloth wipes too. I haven’t tried the new bumgenius version, but might if/when I have another kid, because they finally offered an option with snaps. (Hate their velcro. Hate it hate it hate it.) We’re otherwise a GADs and Knickernappies family. 🙂

by Naturally Single Mom on July 6, 2010

I’ve been intrigued about washable diapers ever since I heard the whole thing about dirty diapers taking a babillion years to decompose in the world’s trash piles. But I don’t have a baby (yet), so I don’t really have to worry about my baby’s carbon footprint (yet). But what happens if you have a gigantic load of baby poop in there? Do you just drop the whole thing into your washing machine? Poop particles? Contaminating other linens that shouldn’t be exposed to poop?

I wonder because I fully intend on using these, but lawd knows poop particles are a constant concern of my every day life.

by Yellaphant on July 6, 2010

Yellaphant, poop particles are a constant concern of my everyday life too! I rinse poo filled nappies in the sink with some soap and let them soak for a while, and then toss them in the washing machine on the super-hot-oh-my-god-it-burns setting.
That usually takes care of all the pesky particles.

by beckey on July 6, 2010

I was going to ask the same thing as Yellaphant. I totally want to use a different means than disposable diapers when it’s my turn for a kiddo, but the poop issue has always made me pause. My only concern with the rinsing in the sink method is…I better have one of those soaking/rinsing laundry tub-like sinks in my laundry room when I grow up and have a house one day because Lord knows if I use a sink in my house, even after bleaching it, it’s always going to be known as the poo sink. Or maybe I just won’t care once I have a kid and their vomiting, peeing and pooping on me on a regular basis…?

by Bellacantare on July 6, 2010

Another Idea for poop filled cloth is dunking the poop into the toilet (where poop belongs even if you use disposables) and then I had a “soak bucket” with a little soap and water (kept outside) then you just put the soak bucket fluids down the toilet. I also always added a 1/4 cup distilled vinegar to the wash to keep them from getting stinky. Just some thoughts…and I agree with Bellacantare I wouldn’t want to put poop in just any sink.

by mariah on July 6, 2010

Wow these are all excellent tips from some super savvy, save-the-world kinda ladies. Beckey, I’m inspired. I’ve begun the search to become just like you. I need lots more tips than this – such as how many do I need to buy? How often are you doing laundry? Which color would look best with Evan’s skin color? Where do you recommend buying them? I was considering, they let you get a six-pack and you get to chose each of the six’s color and closure. Should I go with snaps or velcro? I need more lady!

by Natalie on July 6, 2010

the problem with me is I throw up at the sight and smell of poop.

by gorillabuns on July 7, 2010

Yeah! Dispoles Diapers are stinky. I’ll suggest you don’t buy them.

by kathy on July 17, 2010

[…] I do touch a lot of poo within a given day, and I get yelled at by both my baby and 3-year-old, and on really special […]

by Hippo Brigade » All teeth fall out on July 28, 2010

[…] been cloth diapering for a while now (I’ve written about it before), and I don’t take it too seriously. I have a stack of cloth diapers next to the changing […]

by Cloth Diapering Essentials | Hippo Brigade on June 5, 2013

Leave a comment

Fo’ Sheezy, I’m Wheezy


July 2, 2010

I’m pretty snacky.

That’s the thing about me, I could always go for a snack.

Whenever I’m at some one’s house and they ask, “are you hungry, do you want something to eat?”

The answer is always YES. But because I’m polite, and don’t want to come off like a rabid beast that will eat all of their food, I generally say, “nah, I just ate, thanks. But is that Chex Mix on your counter? I’ll just have a small handful.”

Then an hour later, I’ve devoured their entire bag of Chex, drank half a liter of flat Diet Coke, and my gracious host caught me licking their plastic honey bear container.

And I wonder why I never get invited anywhere.

So last night, after we tucked the kids in bed, Pat and I turned to each other and romantically embraced.

No. Just kidding.

We both decided we were snacky.

But because the snacks in the house aren’t good enough for us, I went to CVS (or Cee Vee’s as we lovingly refer to it as) to score some extra delectable nibblets.

I was feeling super charitable, so I took Zoey along. Sometimes she can be a total turd in the car. She’ll run from one side of the car to the other, and start doing the Mexican hat dance on my uterus with her tiny paws because she’s so damn happy to be going on an adventure. But this time she was calm, and sedated.

Maybe it was because I was sitting on her head?

When I pulled the car up to the front of the store, there were about 9 teenagers sitting out front. They were all talking and texting, and whatnot, but as soon as they saw me they stopped and stared at me.

I started to feel nervous.

I don’t know why.

I guess it was because it felt like high school all over again. Except in high school I was cute.

And 20 pounds lighter.

And blissfully oblivious.

I got out of the car and felt the warmth of their eyes on me. Zoey was being wild and wanted to jump out and get some candy too. So I had to corral her back into the car with all the awkward clumsiness I could muster. I used my ass as a shield, and nearly closed her face in the door.

I could tell those pesky kids were laughing at me. Not only did I look like an idiot, but I was dressed like an idiot too.

I didn’t realize when I left the house, because all I could think about was pretzel M&Ms, but I was wearing my patent leather, neon yellow  running shoes, frumpy shorts with chicken fat stains, and an off the shoulder tee shirt that said, “I’m wheezy” with a picture of an inhaler, and it partially revealed my nursing bra that looks like it has the power to wrangle even a gorilla’s mammaries.

I had to walk straight though the crowd to get to the door of Cee Vee’s.


*Here I go*

I didn’t realize the power teenagers had over me until that very moment.

I almost got through the crowd, and then told myself, I can do this. I am a strong, confident WOMAN.

It felt like I was walking though one of those human tunnels that people do after you get married or something, but instead of throwing soft and beautiful rose petals, they were throwing me straight into an ambivalent spiral of anxiety.

And then one of them said, “Hi Weezy.


What is it about cocky 16 year-olds that make me feel like I’m in Mr. Tsuda’s algebra class all over again?

And why I’m wearing a dumb shirt with an asthma inhaler on it?

Seriously, I’m usually a very confident and secure human being.

I think it was the combination of low blood sugar and the flood of high school memories that gave those suckers such power over me.

And I can’t believe I was humiliated in front of my own dog.

I think I deserve extra candy for that.


AHHHHHHHHHH Mr. Tsuda!!!!!!!!

by sarah on July 2, 2010

I totally know what you mean! And they probably could have said anything, even something nice, and it still would sound intimidating and rude.
Nice to know that, at least in your head, you can just smile and think, “Just wait.”
And PS- I think that shirt sounds awesome.

by Carrie Braunalicious on July 3, 2010

I’m a cocky sixteen year old, and that’s just how we do. But I still think that shirt sounds awesome! They were probably mad jealous of your style.. or you could just convince yourself that they were. Us teens are bitches 😉

by madison on July 5, 2010

Why do they always have to huddle around and block the entrance??? What’s the purpose of being sooooo annoying???? I know I’m only a decade (or so…whatev) older, but gosh teenagers annoy me to no end.

by Bellacantare on July 6, 2010

I was wearing my T-shirt that says, “Team Fire Crotch” on it when I went down the street the other day. People avoided eye contact with me and pretended not to see me. Which is funny, cos I am a 6’1 ranga with huge mammory glands (don’t know if I can say tits here without offending, thats what I would normally call them). Anyway, I had a clear path down the street. Wait til I wear my “Yes the Carpet matches the Drapes” one the supermarket tomorrow.

by Toni on July 7, 2010

Hello! First time reader – you just made my day! I seriously hope I wasn’t like that in high school, but I probably was. I much as I loved my pregnant body, there were so many moments where I felt like a walrus trying to walk on its’ back fins, and was pretty sure that everyone else was thinking the same thing. I hated walking past idle teenagers when I was a teenager, and being “all grown up and preggo” doesn’t really make it any easier. Hilarious post!

by Ihilani on July 9, 2010

I think They were probably mad jealous of your style.. or you could just convince yourself that they were. anyway thanx for sharing.

by Cindy on July 17, 2010

Leave a comment