"Happy Holidays"...

is what terrorists say. 

So I'll just say "Merry Christmas" instead. 

Christmas 1988...I think.  Back when Christmases were mind-blowingly awesome...and so were homemade sweatpants.   

I hope everyone is having/has had a fantastic Christmas!
Love,
me

Kid History II

This is for all of you who liked Kid History Part I.  Lee found Kid History Part II tonight.  So here it is...

I think I liked the first one better...it seemed a little less scripted...but this is still pretty dang funny (as far as I'm concerned) and well worth your time...unless you are an apostle or heart surgeon.  

And...if you're an apostle AND heart surgeon then it really isn't worth your time.  That's right E. Nelson...if you're one of my blog leeches, you can just skip this post.  But be a champ and leave me a comment sometime...okay?  

Anyway, for all of you normal people out there, it's well worth watching.  

I think my favorite parts are the licking the loogie off the hand part and John's wheezy laugh at the end.  

I hope these guys can come up with more stories to tell.  

Enjoy!

A broken heart at Christmastime

My heart is broken this Christmas season.  

The unthinkable has happened. 

Tootsie Roll Industries has discontinued its best ever candy...Junior Mints Candy Coated Minis...the only thing I was looking forward to this Christmas.  

The CEO of Tootsie Roll Industries needs a roundhouse kick to the head because Junior Mints Candy Coated Minis are were (RIP) the world's best candy (at least as far as I'm concerned...and pretty much everyone I know who was lucky enough to taste them last Christmas).  

I'm not a big time candy lover.  I'd rather get my fat and calories from cookies, cakes, pastries, etc.  

But, when it comes to candy, these were absolutely amazing.  The texture was perfect.  The crunch was just right.  The size was perfect.  The amount of mint was perfect.  

Basically, they were perfection in candy form.  They were the type of candy that I can imagine the candy bowls on every coffee table in heaven would be filled with.  Seriously.  Amazing.  Celestial.  Divine.

And this year I searched and searched and searched for these candies to no avail.  

And then I waited, thinking that maybe they'd be out later in the season.  

And then I searched some more.  

And then I wrote to Tootsie Roll Industries asking them what was up with no Junior Mints Candy Coated Minis this year.  

And they simply replied that the candies had been "discontinued."  

And then I cried (not really).

And then complained to everyone I knew who also loved these candies.

And then I thought of like 500 super disgusting candies (in the U.S. alone) that could be discontinued instead of the delicious Junior Mints Candy Coated Minis.  Some examples of ralphingly disgusting candies that the world could live without are: Necco Wafers, Circus Peanuts, Orange Sticks and Slices, Conversation Hearts, 3Musketeers, Mike and Ikes, Good & Plenty (double barf...who buys these?), Dots, Snaps, etc.  

And then I wrote to Tootsie Roll Industries again and begged them to please bring the candies back and give them a better chance with better marketing and that I'd personally buy at least one case of them.  And then I asked why they discontinued them..."was it because they caused cancer in lab rats?" I asked. 

Because I would take my chances with the cancer if that was the case.  I mean first of all, I'm a lot bigger than a rat.  Second of all, those studies are often wrong.  And third of all, Junior Mints Candy Coated Minis are amazing...and you've got to die of something or from something anyway...so why not die in complete minty bliss?  

But they haven't answered that email yet.

I can't imagine any other logical reason for discontinuing such a tasty holiday treat other than cancer in lab rats.  

Anyway, I'm just wishing and hoping and praying that by some miracle Tootsie Roll Industries will give these candies another chance.  

If you feel as passionately as I do about this issue, please take the time to leave Tootsie Roll Industries a comment about your disgust at the loss of these candies.  

It only takes a minute.  

And it could change the world.  

Shame on me...

I just got an email from my brother with the subject "shame on you" and a link to this article.  

Maybe I'm just a heartless jerk, but I still don't feel bad about what I did.  Even if it was "inappropriate."  I've done lots of inappropriate things in my life...this is just one of many.  Add it to the list.  At least this inappropriate thing will pay for my Christmas 2010 gifts.  

And, in my defense, I didn't post an ad on craigslist.  I just responded to an ad.  And if that ad hadn't existed then I wouldn't have done what I did.  

And if there weren't people who did drugs then there wouldn't be drug dealers.

And if there weren't gamblers then there wouldn't be casinos.    

And if there weren't crazed David Archuleta fans then I wouldn't be 200 dollars richer.  

I say it's capitalism at its finest.  

Zumba Dummy

Tonight I joined in on the Zumba fad for the first time.  My cousin Audrey and sister-in-law Kim talked me in to giving it a try.  I wonder if, after tonight's class, they regret it...if they were embarrassed to know me.  

I know I was embarrassed to know me.  

Because I'm sooooooo uncoordinated.  

And I suck.

And I kept bumping into the people around me.

And I might have almost fallen once.  

I'm a Zumba disaster...kinda like the lady in the picture above.  But she looks like a clueless Zumba disaster...at least I know I'm a Zumba disaster.  That's a start, right?  

And I'm serious...I'm not just saying that I'm an uncoordinated disaster in the way that everyone says they're uncoordinated.  I really am.  I might just be the most uncoordinated person I know.  

If you don't believe me just ask my brother Tyler to see the video he took of me the first time I played wii tennis.  I was pretty horrible.  I was all over the room swinging that wii controller around uncontrollably.  Tyler said that if he posted the video on YouTube that it would definitely go viral.  I didn't let him.  Maybe I should have though.  I might be YouTube famous by now.   

I'm just naturally uncoordinated I suppose.  It's not that my parents didn't try to help me.  From a young age they had me in ballet, jazz, tap, and gymnastics classes.  But I was pretty much hopeless from the beginning.  Someday maybe I'll post the video of me at my first ballet recital so you can see for yourselves just how bad I really was.  I was so horrible that people in the audience laughed when it came time for my little solo twirl with star-wand wave combo.  Well, at least I was funny I guess.  

Anyway, I figured that regardless of my dancing disability, I'd better get doing something...before my fat rolls get any more numerous or large.  I don't want to start losing things in them...like car keys or fried chicken.  

I don't know why I've always been so worried about losing fried chicken in my fat rolls.  

Because I don't even eat fried chicken.

Anyway, it's back to Zumba again tomorrow.  I'm not quite ready to give up yet.  Even if I am embarrassing myself.  

Wish me luck! 

With Christmas approaching...

my brothers will want to know what I want for Christmas.  


They usually don't start asking that question until about December 23ish.  But I thought I'd give them a little head start this year.  


And really, I'm super easy to buy for.  I like and want most things.  So instead of listing everything that I might like to receive for Christmas I thought instead that I'd just mention a few things that I hope not to receive this year. 


A lot of what I'm posting is Mormon artwork.  I'm not a huge fan of most Mormon artwork.  I'm pretty picky I guess.  I just like the normal stuff.  


Same with Mormon music...I don't like a lot of it.  That Dairyman's Daughter song from the 90's almost ruined my fragile teenage testimony.  Really any Michael McLean music scares me.  And some of the following artwork does too, so please don't buy me any of it for Christmas.  Thank you.  
  

Jesus passing the Sacrament while zombie baby approaches

Jesus signing "I love you"(1)

Jesus helping with scripture study

Jesus reflecting in your 1970's mirror-covered closet doors

Jesus suiting up the sister missionary

Jesus and the black kid in a wheelchair dressed in a baptismal jumpsuit (2)

Babies see Jesus everywhere

Jesus presents the Constitution while Abraham Lincoln performs in a barbershop quartet and really random people from the past (like that lady who blew up in the Challenger space shuttle) look on

Nazareth High School
Class of 18 A.D. (3)

Footnotes

[1] If you, or one of your children, are deaf, I won't think it's weird if you own this picture.

[2] If you are black AND wheelchair bound, owning this picture might be okay, but, according to the most recent church statistics, there are only four black kids in wheelchairs in the church and I doubt you're one of them. 

[3] This isn’t that freaky of a picture I suppose, but for some reason a smiling Jesus just sort of scares me and I don't know why.  

Other things I hope not to find under the tree this year...

This wall vase.  Freaky.

Spray-on hair filler.  Because the last thing I need during a snowstorm is to have spray-paint running down my neck.  

Pajama jeans

And avoid Snuggies in all their forms...

the Gangsta Snuggie...

the Babysitter Snuggie...

the Alien Snuggie...

and the Sport Snuggie.

And please please please don't buy me...

a steak brander...

or fetus cookie cutters.  

Because that's just creepy.  

Thank you.

What are you hoping not to get for Christmas this year?

Brazil for Christmas?

So I'm thinking that I may go to Brazil for Christmas after all.  
We had a lovely Fall in Idaho but just like that the weather turned bad.  And, I think I may have had my fill of this:

and this...

and this...

for the year already.  


Although that last picture of the giant drift in my G-ma's backyard is pretty beautiful.  But beautiful is still cold and wet.  


I guess I'm just a wimp.  


I guess I just don't like driving on slick roads or having cold, wet, feet all of the time.  And I REALLY don't like what going out in the snow does to my hair...hair gets messed up, self esteem drops, and the day is basically ruined.  


Anyway, don't get me wrong...I do LOVE love LOVE Idaho, but I am not a huge fan of Idaho Winters.  


If I had my way I'd live in Idaho from May through September and also from December 24th to January 1st and then I'd hide out somewhere warmer for the rest of the year.  


I need to find a warm place that isn't humid and also doesn't require you to share your home with large spiders, scorpions, and/or geckos.  


Oh, and I guess I need to find a job that allows me to split my time between two places...any suggestions?  

I did it.

I sold MoTab tickets that I paid absolutely nothing for.

And I sold them for 200 dollars.

The cash is in my hand.  (in small unmarked bills) 

And now everybody is trying to make me feel bad about it...like I sold my soul to the devil himself.  

What's up with that?  

You can't be guilt tripping me now...because it's too late.  The deed is done. 

And I gave everyone the opportunity to pre-guilt trip me here...I asked all of you, my blog readers, my moral compasses, my guides to what is right and proper in this world to lead me and guide me and not one person said, "STOP Becca!!!...Don't do it!...200 bucks isn't worth rotting in hell over forever!...It's not worth 200 dollars to have guilt eternally eat away at your soul!"  

But, nobody stopped me.  Not even my mother.

So why are people making me feel like I'm a creepy person for making such an awesome gain on my money?...0 dollars invested...200 gained.  It's an incalculable return on my investment.  

As far as I'm concerned, I should be applauded for making such a sound financial decision in times like these.  

And, it takes two to tango.  If there hadn't been a demand then I wouldn't have supplied.  But there was a demand and I supplied.  

The guy I sold them to is a die-hard David Archuleta fan and so is his family.  

He thanked me exactly eight times via email for selling him the tickets.  He said to me "you have no clue how happy I am to get these tickets."  He drove an hour in a snowstorm to pick them up.  And when we met he greeted me with 200 bucks and a smile and said, "I'm so excited to get these," and then he even made a joke about it looking like a drug deal (we met in a Maverick parking lot), and then he thanked me again.  

He thanked me and thanked me and thanked me for selling him tickets I got for free...

and they were balcony seats.  

I suck.  

An Epic Win...

Guess who won an 18,000 dollar scholarship?


That's right...my cousin-in-law Jason.  


There were 39 other people in the running, but Jason got 34,000ish votes and was the big time winner.  


So thanks to everyone who took the time to vote...every little vote counted.  


For more info about the exciting news go here. 

Kid History I

Okay, so either I'm completely weird and/or bored or this video is pretty freaking hilarious.  I laughed out loud...by myself.  And, even if you don't find it as funny as I do, you've got to at least give these people 10 points for creativity and amazing video editing skills.  


As far as I know none of my readers are brain surgeons or the like, so I can say without reservation that this is most definitely worth six minutes of your time.  


Enjoy...




What was your favorite part?  I think mine is right around 5:04.  I couldn't stop laughing.  


Later, 
Becca

A Moral Question for my Readers

Dear Readers,

On a scale of 1 to 10, with 10 being cannibalism and 1 being picking your nose, how morally wrong would it be for a person to sell their free of charge Mormon Tabernacle Christmas Concert tickets to desperate David Archuleta fans for say, 200 dollars, on Craigslist?  

Just wondering.

Becca

A Spinster Posts on Parenting...

Even the best of parents make mistakes sometimes.  
Parents aren't always right.  

Some parents scar their child's self esteem early in life by buying Baby Bangs...

Other parents find creative uses for duct tape...

And some do interesting things to help their child enjoy a trip to the zoo.

Parents sometimes resort to sketchy means of transportation, like here...

and here.  

And, occasionally parents inadvertently encourage neo-Nazism,

or obese-ism.  

My parents always told me that I should accept any church calling I'm ever asked to do...and I'm not sure they were right about that.  

Obviously they have never been asked to work in the nursery.  

However, the jury is still out on whether or not I absolutely despise working in the nursery.  

Because one minute I'm like, "oh, these kids are darling, I've got to get me some of these."

And the next minute I want to move away ASAP and therefore passively get out of this calling forevermore.  

Anyway, today it was my turn to teach the "lesson."  They didn't hardly listen, at all...to my wonderful lesson on gratitude that I so thoughtfully prepared during Sacrament Meeting.  Little ingrates.  

But really, nursery isn't all that bad.  It's getting better really.  I might even start to like it someday.

Might.

Someday.

I think my main gripe really has less to do with the kids, the fact that I babysit for free for two hours every Sunday, the fact that I've ended up with snot on my dress two out of three weeks, the fact that I go to church but don't really get much out of church, or the fact that quite often the parents are more of a problem than the kids are...

and, more to do with how much nursery has limited my wardrobe.  

I already had troubles when it came to knowing what to wear to church.  My wardrobe was already severely limited.  

And when I accepted the calling I knew that I would have to eliminate all dry-clean-only clothes from my already limited wardrobe.  But I guess I didn't anticipate having to also eliminate: any outfits involving uncomfortable heels (or heels at all for that matter), anything delicate or hand washable because I would have to wash my skirts after every wear, any outfits involving jewelry of basically any sort, any skirts or dresses I can't kneel and sit in, and anything I don't want to get completely ruined.  

So, I vote that we approve leisure suits or sweat pants as appropriate Sunday attire for nursery leaders.  All in favor, say aye.  

But really, I kind of like just hanging out and playing with kids...especially the cute and well-behaved ones.  So I can't say that nursery is all bad.  

And, if I play my cards right and get my life figured out and get a full-time job and move somewhere with a Singles Ward, then I guess I'll be free of nursery forever.  

All I know is that if I'm ever asked to accept a calling with the word "scout" or "girls camp" or anything like unto, I'm ignoring my parents' advice and running away...running like the wind.  Because, everyone knows that parents aren't ALWAYS right.  

Life Lessons Learned While Living With My Grandma

Since I came back to the US of A at the end of August I've been staying with my cute little grandma.  

It's the longest I've stayed in one place for the past year...nearly two months! I'm starting to get a little stir crazy (even though I did go to California for one week of those two months) and I bet my grandma is getting sick of having me around, but for now (until I figure out what to do with the rest of my life), it's where I am, and I'm glad my grandma is nice enough to let me be here.  And, while I'm here, I might as well learn something.  

Here are a few of my life lessons learned while living with my grandma...

1) Wheel of Fortune is actually a pretty decent show.  I quite enjoy watching it and I love how super smart I feel when I know the correct answer before the contestants do.  Pat Sajak owes me thousands of dollars.  

2) If you donate to the Veterans of Foreign Wars, Paralyzed Veterans of America, Vietnam Veterans, Retired Veterans, the Special Olympics, Firefighters Association, Police Association, St. Jude Hospital, March of Dimes, Republican National Committee, Native American Association, etc. you will forever receive mail and phone calls from those charities asking for more.  I guess it's just the price you have to pay for being a kind and giving person.  

3) NEVER, under any circumstances buy videos from Feature Family Films.  If you do, they will call you for THE REST OF YOUR LIFE and will drive you absolutely crazy on the phone until you buy more.  My brother finally had to call them and tell them to "stop harassing the elderly" to get them off my grandma's back.  

4) Candy can actually get stale and hard.  This was a major eye-opener for me.  I truly had no idea this was even possible.  I grew up in a house where it never lasted long enough for us to know that this was even a possibility.  We'd hoard candy sometimes, but only until the next Fast Sunday or snowstorm when we could re-sell it to each other (and my to my dad) at exorbitant prices.  

5) Pies and cakes and other desserts can get dry or moldy.  I never would have imagined this.  But, with only me and my grandma around we've had cakes get dry and stale and an apple pie get moldy.  Growing up in my house, you never wanted to take too long of a nap on Sunday afternoons or you'd miss "Second Dessert."  You had to time your naps just right and not take too long of one, or the entire chocolate cake from Sunday dinner would be gone before you got to it.  Either that or you had to write your name in spit on the portion of the dessert that you wanted to stake a claim on before you went to take your Sunday nap or you might as well forget about getting another shot at dessert.  Our treats were always super fresh because they never lasted longer than a day.  

6) The fridge can seem to be empty and yet you can make a delicious meal out of practically nothing.  This has always amazed me about my grandma.  My mom can do it too.  You think there's nothing to eat and then all of a sudden they've whipped together a delicious meal.  I'd like to learn to do that someday.  

7) How to always have a delicious fresh pineapple.  Here's my grandma's secret.  After you buy a fresh pineapple, cut off the top, turn the pineapple upside down, and place on a plate (either in the fridge or on the counter depending on how quickly you want the pineapple to ripen).  Your pineapple will ripen evenly and all that sweetness that usually gets concentrated at the bottom of the pineapple and almost turns alcoholicish will instead sweeten the entire pineapple.  Trust me on this one.  The trick works every time.  I only recently learned why my grandma always has delicious fresh pineapple in her fridge and now I want to share that tip with the world (or at least with my blog leeches).  

8) Fox News isn't all that bad.  And, I think I secretly have a crush on Glen Beck (even though I think he's sort of crazy and he cries a lot).  

Oh, and my grandma wants to know if you (and everyone you know) voted for Jason.  Today is the last day to do it.  So, don't be a loser and forget.  

Later,

Becca

On the art of Ward Hopping...

Ward hopping is an art. 

One that, until recently, I excelled at.  

Here are the rules of ward hopping.  

1. Never go to the same ward more than three weeks in a row. 

Week 1: They either don't notice you or just consider you a visitor.

Week 2: They notice you but just think you are on an extended vacation from school, work, or whatever you do (people rarely know). 

Week 3:  They notice that you've been around a lot and start asking questions/put you on a list of people they need to get church records for, get a calling for, etc.  

2.  Avoid eye contact with any and all people in any sort of leadership position in the ward.  Eye contact can lead to direct contact and conversations.  Avoid this at all costs.  Also avoid close friends and spouses of said leaders.  

3. Leave church quickly at the end of the meetings.  Avoid lingering.  Especially anywhere near the Bishop's office.  Never exit from the main doors.

4. When people do ask you what you're up to and where you're living, etc., be vague and act really unsure about what you are doing with your life or how long you will be living in the area.  (This is usually easy for me as I usually am unsure about what I'm doing with my life, how long I'll be in one place, etc.)

5. And, come to church late.  Slip into the overflow section in the back.  (This is probably the easiest part of all for me...I excel at being late.)  Oh, and sitting in the overflow is especially wonderful if they haven't yet opened up the section with those accordion door things (I don't know what they're called) and nobody else is in the section because this gives you extra time to get in that one last shot of hairspray to fix your bangs or to finish applying your makeup.  Also, if you grabbed some candy for "breakfast" on your way out the door this is an excellent time to eat your snacks before they open up the overflow. (Not that I have done those things or anything...)

So all year I was going along just fine...hopping between the Spanish branch, my home ward, my grandma's ward a time or two, a couple of trips to SLC, and broken up by large intervals of time when I was out of the country.  

Those long lapses of traveling time is really what threw people off of my path...in Idaho for a few weeks, out of the country for a month or two, back in town, and then gone again.  I could hardly keep track of myself, so I doubt anyone else could either.  

And, it was great.  Mostly because I could get away with the fact that I only have two or three spring/summer and two or three fall/winter church outfits that I like and that like me (aka: fit me).  And, by ward hopping you never have to worry about that.  All you need is three outfits.  Because then you rotate to the next ward and nobody knows that you just wore those same three outfits in your last ward, and then you're back again to the first ward and it's been long enough that nobody remembers what you wore (unless you wore something really weird).  

But, then I broke rule #1, which may well be the most important rule of all.  Because, if you disappear after three weeks then the whole cycle starts over again and you're safe, but if you chance it and go that fourth week you're just asking for trouble.  

And, I knew I was in the danger zone when I went to my home ward that fourth week in a row.  But for some reason I broke the rule anyway.  I guess I just wanted to feel the exhilaration of living life on the edge, of taking a chance.  

And, as I sat in Sunday School that 4th week in a row, one of the ward clerks or secretary guys or whatever you call them comes in right before the meeting started and said, "Can you meet with a member of the Bishopric right after church?"

My sister-in-law looks over at me and makes a face that seems to say "busted."

'Dang,' I thought.  And "okay, sure" I said.  

So I meet with the Bishopric member and he asks me if they can call me to be a "Primary Helper," which I understood to mean that I would just be an on call primary teacher for when someone needed a substitute or would just do crowd control during Sharing Time or whatever.  

So, after explaining to the Bishopric guy that I: 1)didn't actually live in the ward boundaries, 2)wasn't sure how long I'd be staying in the area, 3)knew nothing about children, and 4)go out of town a lot and am known to leave the country for months at a time, I agreed to the gig.  

Then, just this past week I get a call from the Primary President and she asks me if I can be a "Nursery Helper" for the rest of the year.  So, after explaining the above four point disclaimer to her, and thinking 'Oh h&!! what have I gotten myself into?,' I agreed to this more specific gig.

People who know me are probably thinking, "Why did you say 'oh h&!!' when you found out you'd be working in the nursery?...I thought you loved kids." 

And I do love kids.  But if there is one age of kids that's pretty much my least favorite age of kids to deal with it's 1.5 year-olds to 3 year-olds.  Because: 1)many of them are at that age when they only like their moms (and maybe their dads) and if you aren't their mom or dad and you even look at them or dare talk to them they will cry, 2) they have started to talk but since I don't speak "kid talk" I have no idea what they're saying so there's lots of miscommunication, and 3) it's the potty training age (need I say more?)

But, I agreed to the gig and decided I'd better buck up and deal with it.  Besides, 'I'm only a "Nursery Helper," how bad can it be?' I thought. 'And, it's only through December.  I can endure to the end (of the year).'

So, Saturday afternoon I call the lady whose helper I am to ask her if there's anything I need to do for or bring to nursery on Sunday.  

"Nope," she said, "just show up."

So, I showed up.  

Only problem was that she didn't.  

So, I walk into a room with eight of these...

waiting for me. 


And, I was totally unprepared.


I had:
1)no snacks
2)no key to the toy cupboard
3)no lesson plan
4)no clue what to do with eight screaming children for two hours


And then the music lady came in and said that they were short staffed or whatever and that she wouldn't be able to come and do music time.  Ahhhhhhhhh! 


I'm sure the parents of said screaming children could see the look of sheer terror/incompetence on my face.  They probably wondered if they dared leave  their children with such a person.  A couple of them didn't.  Thank heavens!


And, looking back, that was the moment when I should have run.  Right when I walked into that room and realized that the Nursery Leader was not there and saw all the chaos...I should have pretended that I had turned into the wrong room and hightailed it out of there.  I think I could have gotten away with it.  It was my first week after all.   


Anyway, to make a long story short, we found the key to the toys, one of the moms ran home for some snacks, and two of the moms stayed with me and helped me with the "lesson" and crowd control.  


And, since there were zero major injuries (one kid did punch another kid in the face) and zero escapes, I'm counting the day as a success even though everything else was pretty much a disaster.  


Oh, and I learned that two year-olds don't respond well when you don't know their first names and you just call them "Sister Peterson."  


"Sister Peterson, are you done eating your Fruit Loops?" 


"Sister Peterson, fold your arms."  


"Time to pick up the toys Sister Peterson."


You don't get much of a response. 


And, when you write "Sister Peterson" on her picture of Jesus that she's coloring for her dad, she'll get mad and will scribble it out.  


Busted.  


I guess I'll have to learn their names.  I'd better ask their parents though.  I can't understand a word of what those kids say.  


Well, I guess it serves me right.  I'm the one who wanted that dang Get Out of Jail Free card.  This wasn't what I had in mind though. 


Oh, and just in case there are blog leeches from my ward who have children in the nursery in my ward (and I'm pretty sure there are), I don't think all the children in that nursery are hellions.  Actually a few of them are extremely adorable, and sweet, and fun, and are not snot nosed bawl babies.  I won't name any names though.  I'll just let you think it's your kid I'm talking about when I say that a few of them were absolutely adorable.  It's more fun that way.  




Next week is Stake Conference.  


Hallelujah!  Praise be.  


Boy am I glad I'm not the Octomom.  Poor, stupid, lady.