Many will say that much like a misplaced dildo (Armadillo on the Dildo?) the Elf has become an unexpected pain in the ass.  Take a quick browse on any facebook mom’s group and you’ll find that the one thing they can all agree on is that they should have never started this tradition. If they had to do it over again they would have told their kids their Elf moved to Sweden and joined an ABBA tribute band.

God help us if you forget to move the damn thing one night and now you spend the next day rationalizing why a toy has not moved around the house…here’s a few suggestions

“Maybe if you were a better listener he would have moved”

“If you did better on that Math test then maybe the Elf would would love you more”

“Maybe if grandma wasn’t so controlling and approved of my parenting style then the fucking doll wouldn’t have sat there like a lump of shitty plastic silently judging me as I tried to balance my work life, my home life, menopause, being jealous of Gwen’s new Tesla, the fact that Big Bang Theory was cancelled…” wait, where was I going with this??

If you’re a normal mom like me then you may have read these three suggestions and said “ hmmm…that sounds about right”. Unless of course you are GWEN…little Mrs. Perfect.  We all have a Gwen in our lives.  Perfect lawn, perfect lighting in her Instagram posts, perfect life, perfect everything. I  HATE HER because I’m jealous and that make me hate her even more (Gwen bangs three businessmen?)

So for all of us non-GWEN’s, I like to call us real-moms (Mamas in Pajamas?) I raise my well-deserved wine glass to you and offer you my help. There are plenty of sites to give you cute little kid-friendly ideas of what to do with you Elf, but you ain’t never seen a site like me before.

Maybe you get an Elf on the Shelf just for you and your husband and create these pics or better yet, you have your fun with the Elf yourself and you just make him watch.  However you choose to pleasure yours(elf) make sure you tag us at Living Clean and Dirty when you post them on social media so we can admire and praise (and obviously judge) your work.

As far as I’m concerned, if all the Chucky movies were rated R, then why should the exploits of a self-aware Christmas-themed doll who is supposed to have his own adventures be any different. Right click on the calendar below, save the image and print it out for yourself, hang that shit up proudly on the fridge (or better yet, in the closet where you hide the booze)…why should the kids have all of the fun?  Leave the “classy” for someone else and may all of your Elf adventures be filthy.

Happy Holidays
Ho-Ho-Ho

The post What a doll! appeared first on Living Clean and Dirty.

Goals: The result or achievement toward which effort is directed; aim; end
Selfish: Devoted to or caring only for oneself; concerned primarily with one’s own interests, benefits, welfare, etc., regardless of others.
Liquor: How a male animal cleans his mate (ok, that one might be a bit of a stretch, but I was on a roll)

Well, so now that 2016 has finished kicking our
ass I’m looking forward to my life in 2017.

We lost Prince but we got Batman vs Superman.
We lost Zsa Zsa but we got Zika.
We lost Bowie but we got killer clowns.
We lost Gene Wilder but we got Pokemon Go.
We lost The Good Wife but we got Fuller house
We lost Muhammad Ali but we got the Ice Bucket Challenge.

Yup, pretty fucking awful.

And so here we are…2017.

Last year, or maybe the last two years, became my Year of Fear. The idea was simple: do one thing every day that scares you. I jumped off a cliff into a lake, I parallel parked, I wore dangly earrings with a pair of jeans, and I started saying yes to things that made me uncomfortable. Some were big. Some were ridiculously small. But they all counted.

To me, 2016 was the slap. Now I want 2017 to be the hug.

I’m taking off my superhero cape and wrapping myself in a warm blanket of selfishness. Actually, let’s stop calling it selfishness. Let’s call it self-care. It’s not about me, me, me. It’s about putting me first once in a while. That’s the goal. The Year of Me.

Let me unpack this a little more…most all of us have been on a plane and listened to the flight attendants give their safety speech. Try to get past the visual of them blowing up the life-vest like a little pinky sized pee-pee…what do they always say?

“Put your oxygen mask on first, before helping others”.

It sounds backwards, but it makes perfect sense. Most of us are hardwired to put everyone else’s needs ahead of our own. But if we’re running on empty, we’re not much help to anybody.

It’s like when I hear, “A happy mother equals a happy child.” Personally, I’m still convinced high-speed internet has something to do with it too. But just because a saying is a little cheesy doesn’t make it wrong.

Take these “Just Because…” gems, for example:

“Just because I’m looking at you doesn’t mean I’m listening”
“Just because it’s handmade doesn’t mean it’s cheap”
“Just because I can’t sing doesn’t mean I won’t sing”
“Just because it’s a hole, doesn’t mean you should stick your finger in it” (Fine, I might have made that one up, but it still holds true. Sorry hubby)

I’m not sure when being selfish became synonymous with being a douchebag, but here we are. My answer to this is in 2017 is I’m declaring myself the supreme leader of Douchebagistan and the borders are open to all who want to embrace the lifestyle with me. Who says that being selfish makes you a bitch? That makes about as much sense as a dentist trying to have a conversation with me while she’s got a couple of metal sticks in my mouth poking and prodding.

Let’s be clear, as much as I’d like The Year of Me to consist of nothing but Netflix and an all-wine diet, I still live in the real world. I have 2 kids (3 if you count the hubby), 2 dogs, my mom and all the other responsibilities that I treasure, but that doesn’t mean that me and my needs always need to take a backseat.

I vow to myself to stop putting shit off. I love to read, sleep late, experiment in the kitchen, take a candlelit bath, and simply have an hour where nobody needs anything from me. It’s time to stop pushing me to the bottom of the list or God help us, off the list. It’s easy to lose a bit of ourselves along the way, and to that I say No Fucking More!

2017 “The Year of Me”. You can find memes galore on the internet about “Ain’t nobody got time for that”. Well then call me Dr. Nobody, because I’m making time for that…who’s with me?

The post Welcome to Douchebagistan, Population: ME! appeared first on Living Clean and Dirty.

For us, family camp combined the fun things about an outdoorsy vacation with the amenities of an indoorsy vacation.  My husband called it “camping without the camping” and I called it “high-class summer camp for the whole family”, but we both summarized our entire week long vacation at Family Camp in 5 words. “We can make that happen.”  Let me explain…

My gang has taken a fair amount of family vacations over the past decade but I never felt as pampered and catered to as I did on this trip.  We still refer to it as the “We can make that happen” (WCMTH) vacation.  From the moment we arrived I received strict instructions from the counselors and staff: “This is your time to relax, not have to cook and not have to worry about your kids…we got this”.  And you’d better believe I followed those instructions to a “T”.  The service at Family Camp was OUTSTANDING.  Anything we wanted we got (WCMTH).

• You loved the couscous at dinner last night and want it on the menu every night…(WCMTH)
• My daughter wants to learn how to skateboard…(WCMTH)
• I’m interested in improving my golf swing…(WCMTH)
• I always hear about Vermont and their cheese, how about a cheese tasting night…(WCMTH)
• I’m not sure if there’s time but I’d really like to take a personalized yoga class…(WCMTH)
• My kids didn’t like the dinner choices, any chance of getting some pizzas…(WCMTH)
• Another camper had a birthday during vacation, can we get her a cake and all sing…(WCMTH)

My husband joked that we should ask for a dinosaur dance group with laser beams on their heads just to see what would happen.  I could go on and on about the wishes granted by the genies of Family Camp and it’s for that reason we already have plans to go back next summer.

Now make no mistake, just because it’s called camp doesn’t mean that we roughed it by any stretch of the imagination.  I’m not the type to sleep in a tent so I was thrilled with the two bedroom, two bathroom condominium with fully-equipped kitchen, laundry and living room…all the comforts of home.  We were a short walk from “home base” which is the Sundance Base Lodge near the Grand Summit Resort Hotel.  We had access to all the amenities of the property including an indoor pool, outdoor pool, hot tub, basketball court, health club, steam room, sauna, arcade and fitness classes.

We paid extra for trips to the hotel spa and alcohol, but aside from that everything from drink refills to day long excursions were included.

So here’s a fact that’s funny but true.  I’m not outdoorsy and my husband doesn’t like meeting new people.  If I gave you the criteria of our dream family vacation, this trip would not have been on the top of the list.  We took a chance on something new and I can honestly say this vacation has been one of the greatest experiences we ever had as a family.  We absolutely loved it and CANNOT recommend it enough to everyone we know.  We met 4 other families and spent the week talking, laughing and watching our kids play together.  My husband got along great with the other dads and I had a great time biking in the fresh air amid the beautiful Mount Snow scenery. At the end of the trip, all five families agreed on two things:

1. The service at Family Camp was beyond what any of us ever experienced.  Two of the families (they were sisters) travel every summer together and they went to a different family-style camp the previous year.  They both agreed that this camp was monumentally better.  Like me, they raved about the personal touches and now would accept nothing less than the experience they had at Mount Snow Family Camp.
2. All 5 of our families linked up on Facebook and exchanged information.  We all are coming back next summer TOGETHER.

My husband’s favorite activity was the downhill mountain biking.  My 10-year old, Emma, loved sailing through the trees and ziplines at Ramblewild aerial park.  My 8-year old, Chloe, couldn’t decide what she liked more, tubing and swimming in the lake or kayaking and stand-up paddleboarding.  As for mom, while I’m not too outdoorsy I loved hiking down one of the Mt. Snow trails with my hubby and another couple.  The weather was perfect, the scenery was beautiful and the pace was my own.

Before this trip I knew next to nothing about Family Camp at Mount Snow but I figured we would take a chance and try a new experience.  This turned out to be an unforgettable adventure that we still talk about today and are excited about returning to next summer.  I can’t remember a vacation ever having that effect on me before so thanks everyone at Family Camp for “Making That Happen”.

Click HERE for more information.

Mount Snow hosted my family for a five-night stay at Family Camp for the purpose of this review. All opinions expressed are my own.

The post Summer Camp…it’s not just for kids anymore appeared first on Living Clean and Dirty.

Feeding my dogs a BARF diet was one of those moments.

Now before you call Animal Control, BARF stands for Biologically Appropriate Raw Food. It’s basically feeding dogs a diet made from real, whole foods instead of processed kibble. The first time I heard about it, I thought it sounded a little crazy too.

A few years ago I hired a holistic pet chef (for those of you who need a translation, that’s a woman I hired to come to my house and teach me how to feed my dogs a species-appropriate diet using real, human-grade food instead of commercial dog food). She explained the ingredients, the portions and how to build balanced meals, and by the time she left I was hooked.

So I have a very close friend from childhood. She’s the Statler to my Waldorf for you Muppet fans. Friends NEVER embarrass friends, so I’m not going to mention her by name. She came to me in confidence with questions about dog food and I promised I wouldn’t use her name.

So Allison and I get together a few days a week, and when we can’t, we’ll usually spend an hour on the phone. It usually goes something like this: I tell her about some new eco-friendly experiment I’m trying, and she puts me on speakerphone so I can listen to her crushing Styrofoam containers and aluminum cans into the garbage while every light and television in her house is on.

She’s got a soft spot for my husband, and I’m pretty sure she’s his secret steak connection.

“Ellen,” she’d say, “if God didn’t intend for us to eat animals, they wouldn’t taste so good.”

Totally making fun of me.

Oh, I’m no shrinking violet either. I give it right back and threaten to dump her garbage bags onto her front lawn, rescue every recyclable, and speed off into the night before she notices.

Two good buddies doing what good buddies do.

So when I proudly announced, “I’m never buying dog food again. I’m making all of the dogs’ meals from now on. We’re going BARF up in this mutha!” she laughed so hard I thought she was going to drop the phone.

Then she stopped.

“Oh…you’re serious?”

Very.

She thought I’d completely lost my mind. Honestly, I understood why. A few years earlier I probably would have laughed right along with her.

Then one day there were stories all over the news about commercial dog food recalls and ingredient concerns, and my phone rang.

“Okay, El…tell me about your Holy Pet Chef thing.”

At first I thought she was making some kind of Batman joke.

“Holy Pet Chef, Batman!”

Then I realized it was her turn to be serious.

I tried to be supportive. I laughed. A lot.

Point: Ellen.

Once I got that out of my system, I walked her through everything I’d learned. The ingredients I use. The quantities. Where I buy things. I even loaned her the book my pet chef recommended so she could read it herself and decide if it was something she wanted to try.

A few weeks later my Facebook feed started filling up with pictures of her dogs happily eating homemade meals.

I have to admit, that felt pretty good.

One of the things I love most about making my dogs’ food is how little goes to waste. The leafy tops from celery, carrot peelings, apples that have gotten a little too soft for my daughters, bananas that suddenly became “too brown”…instead of ending up in the trash, a lot of it ends up in the dogs’ bowls.

My dogs are basically furry little composters with tails.

Preparing their meals doesn’t take nearly as long as people imagine. Most days it takes me about five minutes to throw everything together, and I love knowing exactly what’s going into their food.

For our dogs, a typical meal might be raw meat, an egg, carrots, celery, leafy greens, fruit and a little plain yogurt. It isn’t fancy. It’s just real food.

Is this the only right way to feed a dog?

Of course not.

Every dog is different, and every family has to decide what’s right for them. If you’re thinking about making major changes to your pet’s diet, talk with your veterinarian or a qualified pet nutrition professional first.

For us, this has been one of the best changes we’ve ever made. The dogs love it, we waste less food, and I know exactly what they’re eating.

Sometimes the ideas people laugh at today become the very ones they’re asking you about tomorrow.

The post Forget Cake, I Say Let them Eat BARF appeared first on Living Clean and Dirty.