Category Archives: Composting the Fart

Composting the Fart: No. 3

Hi, it’s Riley again, here with another edition of COMPOSTING THE FART. More baabishness awaits in this one post. Please, computer….. please don’t explode of baabishness…… Anyways, let’s move on to the first one…

You’re in your room, reading a book. It’s almost lunchtime and you decide to go downstairs to see what’s for lunch. You walk out of your room and you go down the stairs. You walk over to the kitchen and as you walk in, you hear someone in the kitchen. They’re opening the oven and you hear a loud creaking noise, then something is put inside the oven and it is closed again with another CREEAK. You walk all the way into the kitchen and you see BAAB. Now, you realize she has just put pizza in the oven to warm up, and you casually walk by her when suddenly…. you realize…… she is wearing a scarf indoors. I mean, who does that?? It wasn’t even COLD inside the house!! (No offense to anyone who wears scarves indoors when it is pretty hot….. but…… I mean…. that means you’re a baab, too………………….) You walk out of the kitchen knowing that you’re having pizza for lunch. I think that the creaking of the oven was probably NOT the oven……. just saying……….


You’re walking downtown with Baab because Baab says she needs ‘FRESH AIR’. Well, I could’ve guessed that she would need fresh air because of the oatmeal stench of her room….. Well, you’re walking and you’re talking with her about things. BAAAB wants to talk about FEELINGS and that sort of thing. You’re diverting her from the subject by talking about other things in your life that just MIGHT change her mind from talking about all that other junk.. You finally find another thing to talk about, when suddenly Baab stops on the sidewalk.

“A DIIIIIIME.”, she says in her most BAABISH VOICE. “Remember that DIMES are my SIGN to remind me to keep PURSUING my GOALS and keep on GOING.”

She bends down to pick it up, and I’m surprised she didn’t break her back…… but that was the most baabish things she’s ever said………… EVERR.

(BOBA FETT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) (He’s my favorite Star Wars character.)

Lastly but not leastly, here’s a typical everyday thing of a BAAB….

I was writing this post at my dining room table when my little sister asked me to move because she was doing her chore which was cleaning up the dining room. I didn’t want to move, but Baab said she had a place where I could write this post. I followed her into her room, and she pointed to a place next to her closet….. It was a desk-ish thing that has a chair where you could sit, and the chair had a pillow and the desk was covered in BAABISH things. There was a spot where I could set the laptop down so I could write there, though. Baab called it her WRITING SPACE. Where she writes her BAABISH stories and things.

I just think it’s BAABISH that she makes these little NOOKS (<– that’s what she calls them, and it sound baabish) where she can do her BAABISH things.

Anyways, that’s it for now! Thank you for reading this, this is Composting the Fart!


Composting the Fart: Edition 2

Welcome to the second version of Composting the Fart!! For those of you who  don’t know what this is, read the first one. This is a weekly (sorry for not making recent posts) compiling of all Baab’s baabishness. I’m surprised this computer hasn’t exploded yet from Baab pounding her bony tendrils on the keys of this poor thing. Well, anyways, let’s move on.

First of all, it’s almost dinnertime and you’re downstairs sitting on the couch. You hear Baab talking in the kitchen with Scoby (for those of you that don’t know, that’s Steve, Baab’s husband. We call him Scoby because he makes kombucha…. you should research it.). They’re just talking about boring adult things. You walk into the kitchen to ask what’s for dinner. Before they can answer, you immediately suggest a restaurant. They say no. Then, Baab suggests LEFTOVERS that date back to two weeks ago. Scoby agrees, and now guess what:

You’re eating warmed up pizza from last-last Friday, all thanks to BAAB.

Second, you’re in the car driving somewhere. You’re riding silently and looking at all the things outside. There’s trees, telephone wires, more trees, birbs, signs, cars, and some more trees.

You are sitting in a peaceful atmosphere…. until….. SUDDENLY…… BAAB turns on her BAABISH BEATS with the Bluetooth speaker. You are now listening to classical music and some baabish singers in between. Baab’s classical funk has taken over your peaceful atmosphere.

Finally, best for last…… It’s the first Sunday of the month, the day when you get Little Caesars pizza. You’re excited for this, and so are your siblings. Baab has decided on getting one chez pizza and one pepperoni pizza. She’s getting a Sierra Mist, too. While Baab is driving there, she is deciding on a movie to watch later.

“I want to make a list of all the (baabish) movies I want to watch.”, said Baab.

Your sister uses Baab’s phone to ‘find some movies’ as she says. She finds a list and starts reading them off. She reads about twelve of them, and each one Baab says she wants to watch or re-watch.

Your sister laughs.

“What?”, Baab asks her.

“I looked up movies for old people and I was reading off a list categorized as ‘movie list for the older generation’.”, she replies.

That’s all for now, humans! I will try to keep up with my posts, and sorry that I didn’t. What are your thoughts about Baab? Are YOU a Baab?? How many fingers am I holding up??? Anyways, thank you for reading, this is Composting the Fart!


Becoming Baab

Last year my youngest son had a head cold. He kept following me around saying Mom, Mooom, in the whiny voice of a sick middle school boy, but it came out sounding like this, Bab, Baaab.

Somehow it stuck. The name, Baab, pronounced Bab. Rhymes with drab and flab.

Now all of the kids call me Baab, and sometimes even my husband lets it slip.

I have become Baab.

It’s a process I didn’t fully embrace until looking up its meaning in the ever-reliable Urban Dictionary  (not for the faint of heart, and possibly a very Baabish thing to do). I found it means Bad A$$ At Birth. That totally describes me, so I owned it.

Besides, I named each of them. It’s only fair they get a turn to name me.

Becoming Baab has meant embracing my aging self, as many Baabish things can be translated as old. It has also meant seeing myself as my children see me, as many Baabish things are annoying, funny, or embarrassing.

Becoming Baab has meant not taking myself too seriously and finding the humor in growing into a new season of life. It has reframed my experience of being teased and laughed AT to being teased and laughed WITH. There is a difference, and my children know how to walk that fine line.

I am learning to embrace their humorous selves.

I don’t want to say too much more, and thus hijack Riley’s column. It would be Baabish to go behind and overexplain. You will get a clearer picture of Baab as time goes on.

Mostly I wanted my readers to know that I am Baab, and I approved this new column.


Composting the Fart: The Weekly BAAB

Welcome to the all new edition of COMPOSTING THE FART!! You know how people always say ‘people on the internet are not what they seem’? Well Baab sure isn’t someone you would think wrote this Baabish BLOOG (maybe she is….. she is super cringey and baabish on her blog….). How many subscribers does she have? Oh wait, does someone like her even know what a subscriber IS?? Anyways, Composting the Fart will be the weekly compiling of all Baab’s Baabish moments during the week. I hope you enjoy this first edition!! -Riley (Guest Poster and Editor of Composting the Fart)

AHEM. First off. It’s an ordinary day, you come downstairs and you’re getting ready for school, and you’re halfway through breakfast. You’re eating cereal peacefully while others at the table are eating their breakfast, too. Suddenly you hear GALUMPH. GALUMPH. GALUMPH. And BAAAB walks out of the kitchen wearing her BAABISH BATHROBE. Then you hear her saying, “I wish my eyes would wake up.”, and you sit there thinking, Baab….. your eyes have woken up. (0.0)

SECONDD!! It’s Valentines day and you come downstairs and you see some chocolate at your table spot. ‘For you’. And you are happy and you’re walking around until…. SUDDENLY….. You realize the mantle…. IS COVERED IN BAABISH DECOR!! (Notice: I said decor because that sounds like a Baab trying to be hip). There’s flowers (mostly dead), weird animal things you made two years ago with your nestmates (yes, Baab keeps those weird things), and that one weird picture that has nothing to do with Valentines day but Baab pulls it out anyway (That rhymed. I’m studying to be a poet.).

Here is the third BAABISHLY BAAAAB. You’re riding home from Water Works listening to ‘The Greatest Showman’ because it just so happens to be a good musical. You’re favorite song from that comes on (I don’t know what it is called, sadly, but it’s the one where the dude is making a deal with another man at a bar). You’re listening to your favorite song and singing along in your head, when…. SUDDENLY…. BAAB starts snapping her BONY TENDRILS (AKA fingers) to the song! You’re favorite song is now ruined. Maybe you’ll start liking classical music like a BAAB (Yes, if you’re a Baab you’ll have a hankering to listen to your BAABISH BEATS.).

Finally. Best for last, I always say. If this ever happens in your home, somewhere there’s a Baab. It could be you. Anyways, you wake up from your nap and realize you need to rotate the wash so you’ll have some clean clothes for tomorrow. You walk upstairs to the laundry room to do so. You lumber on over to the drier (like a Baab) to open it. The drier doesn’t have a handle, so you either have to painfully pry it open with your fingers, or you have to take forever to use this weird yellow thing to open it. You manage to get the drier open and there….. you see with your very eyes….. one of THE MOST Baabish things in the history of BAAB….. all of Baab’s SWEATERS. “I had to wash them for my trip”, Baab says. “Like I always say (Note: never listen to Baab’s advice) always come prepared!” Maybe Baab should decide not to scare the fashionistas away this time…. Maybe Baab could crochet a new sweater from all the lint that collected in the drier from that load. After I wrote this, I realized…. no WONDER the drier doesn’t have a handle!

Drier: (Sniffle) I will never feel the same way again…..

Anyways, that’s it for this week’s WEEKLY BAAB. Thank you for reading, this is COMPOSTING THE FART!