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Oct 15, 2014

Sell Your Used Clothes and Shoes with this Instagram-like App

OMG, you guys!
Okay, so I have, what my husband calls, a problem. I call it a necessary part of living. I believe the rest of the world calls it “buying clothes.”
Can we talk about my closet for a minute? It’s a little too close to qualifying for that hording show on TLC. But in a nice way. Like there aren't any rats in there (at least that I can see).
How to Sell Your Clothes and Shoes Online with Poshmark | Sanity Department
I WISH I could wear these.
But there are at least two pair of ballet flats and a gorj pair of Calvin Klein wedges (STILL IN THE BOX) in my closet that have collectively been worn TWO times. In case you are as bad at math as I am, that means ONE PAIR HAS NEVER BEEN WORN. (Sorry to make you do math on a Wednesday evening.)
The wedges I wore in a very stylish wedding. One pair of flats, I wore to pick up my son at the bus stop. I think. Remember what I said about flats in Monday’s post? Unfortunately, that happened after I’d already stocked up on flats.
And then I found the Poshmark app. 
I would describe the Poshmark app as a little bit like Instagram except you use it to sell your clothes. Oh, and you can also buy clothes. My friend describes the app like this: “dangerousssssss.”

Poshmark protects your transactions and also sends you a shipping label, so you don’t have to deal with all that nonsense (read: boring stuff). That’s the worst part of selling things online, for me anyway. The company takes a percentage of your sale to cover these costs and to, obvs, exist.
How to Sell Clothes and Shoes Online with Poshmark | SanityDepartment.com
 
Here’s the part where I’m going to tell you to download this app and sign up. You don’t have to. No pressure. But I am absolutely loving the idea of this app and what it can mean for all those unworn shoes in my closet.
If you DO choose to signup, use the code BAADK to get an automatic $5 credit right off the bat!
Follow my closet, “kerriet,” and I’ll follow you back. And if you’re in a following mood, why don’t you go ahead and click this link to follow my posts via email. Why follow? Because you’re an awesome Internet friend, and also I asked nicely.

Oct 13, 2014

13 Times I was Harshly Reminded that I am 37


If you’re only as old as you think you are, then I’m about…18.

No.

6.
 
No.
 
21.

Sometimes I forget I am a 37-year-old mom with (sweet) minivan and a desk job. Not to worry. Here are 13 times I was reminded of my actual age:
  1. Wore ballet flats to an all-day standing event. (Was pretty sure I fractured an arch.)
  2. Wore high heels for…30 seconds...at DSW...on one foot.
  3. Did a somersault.
  4. Drank 3 beers. IN A ROW.
  5. Joked around with a neighbor teen. (I believe the look is called “don’t talk to me.”)
  6. Jumped off of a swing.
  7. Watched the MTV Video Music Awards.
  8. Stood up too fast.
  9. Ate too fast.
  10. Attempted to put on pants too fast.
  11. Stayed up past midnight.
  12. Bought sunglasses at TJ Maxx.
  13. Took a selfie.
What can you add to this list?

Oct 12, 2014

My Number 1 Tip for Pregnancy also Led to the Birth of this Blog


I have a tip for all you pregnant women out there. It’s a secret that was kept from me. It’s something I wish I’d known about six years ago. So now I am going to share it with you.

Fudge bars.

The fat free ones. Get ‘em.
Because if you don’t eat fudge bars, you will end up sobbing unintelligibly into your 2008 flip-phone in the parking lot of the doctor’s office. Your husband won’t be able to understand what you are so upset about, and you’ll have to yell. Then everyone within 100 yards of you will know that you gained 12 pounds in a month. TWELVE.

Let me ask you a question. Are you aware who invented the banana split?

The devil.
Yes, I realize how ridiculous that sounds. It is way too hot in Hell for ice cream.
So six years ago, after gaining those 12 pounds during my sixth month of pregnancy and being instructed to buy fat-free fudge bars (riiiiight), there was only one thing to do.
Switch to donuts.
And then to start a blog. I had to write about it so I could understand how I felt, which was like a whale in a penguin suit. Plus, I was pretty bored at work.
That is why I started Sanity Department. But, as we all know, change is what makes the world go ‘round.
Wait.
Sidebar.
Really? Does the world really change? People are still fighting in the Middle East. Women are still paid less than men. AND THE KARDASHIANS ARE STILL ON TV.
End sidebar.
Okay, so here’s the deal: I have a new reason for writing at Sanity Department.
To make money!
Kidding. It’s basically the opposite of making money.
It’s writing humor. *womp, womp*
But I love to write about my life in a way that will make you laugh because it’s your life, too.
Yeah, unfortunately, the low-low-paying act of humor writing is my passion.
Cursed! Cursed, I tell you. First with the banana splits...and now this.

Oct 9, 2014

I'm Going Crazy Trying to Follow My Passion to Find My Dream Career

When I think about how I have not discovered and followed my passion to start my dream career, I lose the feeling in my toes and my heart beats in the back of my throat.

I am starting to think I will never know what my passion-dream-career path will be. I am not cool with that. But, unlike that guy with Kenneth’s voice in Wreck-It Ralph, I don’t know how to fix it.

One problem is that I latch on to whatever seems awesome to me at the moment. OH, THAT CAREER IS SO SPARKLY. MUST DO THAT.


Lately, I’ve been thinking about a career in fitness. I’m pretty sure everyone wants dimpled thighs and love handles. Thigh gap? What’s that? Thigh clap is gonna be hyooge on Pinterest.

How can I give someone else advice on getting in shape if I’m still working on myself? Also, if I’m being totally honest with myself, thinking about learning a whole new industry makes me want to take a nap. Also getting up early sucks. Also, I’m lazy.

Okay, yeah I’m lazy at heart, but I really don’t like to sit too long. Sitting is the biggest problem with the career path I’ve been on since college, which is writing. Hashtag: writersbutt.

Most of my adult life, I have been preoccupied with being a writer. But, wait. There are many different types of writers out there. And I haven’t figured out what kind of writer I want to be.

Right out of college I was a journalist, and not to brag too much, but I’m quite good at writing for an 8th grade level education. Don't find it too hard at all. Except I hate interviewing people. It’s awkward, and 99.9% of the time I don’t give a shit about what they’re talking about.

“Oh, you learned to splatter paint at the age of 29? Wow. That’s VERY interesting. Please tell me more about this exciting piece of art that LITERALLY ANYONE, INCLUDING AN ARMLESS BABY MONKEY WHO IS RIDING ON THE BACK OF A THREE-LEGGED GOLDEN RETRIEVER, CAN DO.”

I’ve blogged for a company before. That means I got paid to blog. IT’S EVERY BLOGGER'S DREAM! Until you get your check and you literally use it to buy one Frappuccino at Starbucks.

I have also been a content writer. Ha. Content writer is just a fancy word for “one who writes the marketing blah-biddy-blah nobody else wants to write.”

Currently, I am a copywriter, but it’s hard to do this kind of job when you have a soul. The longer I’m in advertising, the more it makes me cringe to say I’m in advertising.

Here’s what I want in a career: Work from home and get a check in the mail that says “crap-ton of money” in the dollar amount space. Come to think of it, I think I saw a Google Ad for that job…BRB.

Nevermind.

Following my passion to find my dream career is a frustrating maze. I go down one path for a while, and…nope. Wrong direction. So I choose a different path. Wrong way. Maybe this path. Uh no. This path? Oh, look. A sign! What does it say? I can’t quite make it out…it says...I think...it says...YOU SUCK AT THIS.

Stupid sign.

What I really need is to just freaking figure out what I’m passionate about. What is it that I’m so utterly, completely and hopelessly devoted to that I’d ditch my poodle skirt for a black cat suit and take up smoking cigarettes.
 
Some women might say, “I don’t need a career, I’m a mother.”

I feel passionate about being a mom, yes, but I wouldn’t call it a dream career. Motherhood, parenthood, is warm hugs and Christmas jammies. But it’s also cleaning boogers off the side of the toilet.

I hate it when people compare working and parenting anyway. They are two totally different things, right? Nobody pays me to clean those toilet boogers. Shit. Nobody even makes me do it. I do it VOLUNTARILY. So I guess you could say parenting is like…volunteering?

Anyway, I need something I’m passionate about that pays.  

So, let’s cover the things I feel passionate about (other than being a mother and wife, of course, since I feel like you are most definitely judging me right now):
  • Shopping
  • Hating college football teams that are not mine
  • Hating backyard dog breeders
  • Hating Women’s Running Magazine
  • Hating Twilight
Okay…maybe I should keep thinking…
  • Reading to children starting at a young age
  • Reading funny books
  • Writing funny blog posts
  • Working out
  • Watching super-fun girly girl movies and TV
  • DVRing stuff I’ll never watch
There you have it. If anyone has any ideas on how to turn my passion for hating Twilight or watching super-fun girly girl movies and TV into a career, let me know.

Jan 6, 2012

Darth Vader Face

Day 6 of the 365 project:

This morning, T Junior was stomping around and roaring. "Hey, T Junior," I said, "Can you help me clean up your mess?"

He stopped. "I'm not T Junior, I'm Darf Vader!"

So, for today's picture, I asked him to make his "Darth Vader face." This is what I got.

The Greek yogurt on his chin completes the look.

Jan 5, 2012

365 Photo Project - Day 5

Well, actually it's Day 1 for me. I love the idea of documenting life with one photo a day. So, here I go:


This photo from this morning is a pretty good example of my life right now: kid, puppy, mess. Yep. I wanted to get a picture of T Junior this morning, but he wouldn't let me take one. So, I said I'd take one of Ray instead and this is what I got. I actually like it.

Here's my page on the 365 Project site, if you're interested. Otherwise, I'll just be posting these on the blog.

Dec 31, 2011

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!


T Junior was so excited to visit Santa this year so he could tell him what he wanted for Christmas: a football, a soccer ball and a train. (And he was so good on Christmas morning. Taking turns. Stopping to have breakfast. Picking up scraps of wrapping paper. Saying "Thank you.")

I was very proud of him on the day we went to see Santa. We stood in line for an hour because Santa had to go feed his reindeer. T Junior played with some other kids in line and made up games for his "spiders" (his imaginary spiders -- his hands). No tantrums. No whining. And when we got in to see Santa, he was cautious, but with an "it's okay" from us, he hopped on up there and told Santa what he was hoping for on Christmas morning.

What a difference a year makes. 2011 has been challenging at times, especially the second half for me as a mother. With puppies and no vacation and self-pressure, I found myself running low on patience toward the end. Sometimes, I felt low. Stressed. But I've been trying to remember how blessed I am to have a wonderful family and a healthy one, too. And lots of wonderful friends, as well.

Hope your Christmas was merry and you have a happy New Year!

Dec 20, 2011

When He Believed in "The Polar Express"

Have you seen The Polar Express?
I have seen it 100 times. And that’s a low-ball estimate.

We introduced the holiday film to our son last Christmas. I remembered "The Polar Express" book and its beautiful illustrations from when my sisters were younger, but I’d never seen the movie, which is computer animated and features several characters speaking with varying intonations of Tom Hanks’s voice.

The story is all about believing. Just because you don’t see something, doesn’t mean it’s not real. I actually think the movie is saying something about God, not Santa. Or maybe it should be?

Regardless, the first time I saw it, I thought it was pretty good, which is lucky since my 2-1/2-year-old son – get ready for the understatement-of-the-year – loved it.

We watched The Polar Express a lot during the last holiday season, and even well into January 2011. When we were still watching it several times a week into February, I began to worry.

But it was too late. The movie had picked up speed in T Junior’s mind like, well, like that part when the brakes fail on the Polar Express and that skinny engineer swallows the part needed to fix them. By April, I’d come to accept that if we were watching a kid’s movie, it was The Polar Express.

This summer, I went for a bike ride with my friend Chelsea. I pulled T Junior, now 3, in the bicycle trailer. I gave him a sandwich, a water and The Polar Express on the portable DVD player. (He needs some sort of entertainment back there or else he’ll ask me 500 questions as I’m trying to pedal in the heat with an extra 50 pounds behind me.)

Chelsea and I were able to hold a rare uninterrupted conversation for about two minutes when T Junior began intermittently shouting out scenes from his favorite movie. “The train is here!” “He’s talking to the conductor!” “Mom, it’s ‘Hot Chocolate’!” That’s one of the film’s songs.

Next, though, was a demand.

“Mom, sing it!”

“What?” I shouted over my shoulder.

“SING IT!”

“Sing WHAT?!”

“Sing ‘HOT CHOCOLATE!”

“No!” *breath* “I can’t!”

“SING IT!!!!!”

“T Junior!” *huff* “I! Am!” *puff* “Not!” *breath* “Singing! It!”

Chelsea was trying not to veer off the trail laughing.

The holiday film continued to be our most-watched film of 2011 until October. It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown! took its place during the Halloween season. I thought it would be temporary, and expected The Polar Express to be back in demand by Christmastime.

But T Junior has had a hard time getting over the trick-or-treat festivities. He has a serious case of Halloween letdown. Even though we’re well into December, when he told me he was sad last week I guessed the reason even before he told me. I asked why anyway. Dropping his hands to his sides and sticking out his bottom lip, he answered: “Because Halloween is over.”

Today is December 20. Christmas is less than a week away. By now, we’ve watched all the kid-friendly holiday films a few times. Well, all but one.

The only one we haven’t watched this season is The Polar Express. So, yesterday, I asked him if he wanted to watch it.

“No,” he said. “I don’t like that movie.”

I don’t freaking believe it.

Dec 15, 2011

Elf on the Shelf Can Go to H-E-L-L

Don't we have enough to do during the holidays? When did that creepy Elf on the Shelf insert itself into Christmas must-do traditions in this country? 

Oh, wait. Maybe I missed it in my cookie-making, picture-taking, pie-baking, light-hanging, tree-decorating, presenting-wrapping, money-spending, carol-singing, card-writing, advent-opening, party-planning, house-decorating frenzy.

Okay, so I have heard this elf helps keep the kiddos in line during the holidays with his daily "report" to Santa, and it works. But isn't that what that song "Santa Claus is Coming to Town" is for? (There's a reason my sister used to cry whenever we sang it to her.)

And what happens after Christmas anyway? Don't they just go back to their regular naughty behavior? Maybe I could get behind something if it casted a year's worth of guilt over my kid. What about God on a Shelf? Heaven for nice children? Hell for the naughty?

Well, you know where I'd like to tell that elf to go.

Dec 1, 2011

Dreams

I haven't had a dream that I've remembered in a long time.

I used to have dreams. Vivid ones. Sometimes I wished I didn't remember them.

But, lately, I haven't remembered any. What do you think that means?

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