Toto, I’ve a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore.

One word: TOTO®.  

It is THE brand of toilets preferred by industry insiders and general poop experts world-wide. 

I learned this two years ago when we upgraded our powder room toilet. I was wandering the aisles of a local home improvement mega-store, having trouble choosing between the highly publicized American Standard and Kohler brands, when I decided to use my “phone-a-friend lifeline.” Luckily for me, I happen to be very tight with two fabulous people who do PR for one of the industry leaders in plumbing fixtures and they have educated me over the years on some of the ins and outs of the toilet biz. So I speed-dialed “John” from the toilet aisle, knowing he had worked for one of those major brands, and asked which of the two major toilets to buy. And you know what he said? “NEITHER. Get a TOTO.” It was a life changing phone call. Big lesson there ya’ll… surround yourself with good people and ask for help when you need it! It just doesn’t get any easier than that.   

“Technologically advanced and aesthetically pleasing, our industry-leading toilets offer legendary flushing performance.” TOTO®, you had me at “legendary.” That is not a word one typically associates with toileting. I find it absolutely irresistible. And when I learned that TOTO’s 2 – 1/8 inch extra large trapway can pass a 2″ test ball (which is 33% larger than the industry standard) without clogging, I knew it was just the toilet for our passel of professional poopers.  

So that was two years ago. We bought the TOTO® Clayton™ 1.6 GPF with G-MAX commercial grade flushing performance and have never looked back. That single purchase may be the only thing in my life that has never caused me even a hint of buyer’s remorse. I love that thing. LOVE. So naturally, the other day when our four house guests clogged the two non-TOTO toilets on our second floor, a few days before Thanksgiving, I knew there was only one thing to do.  

The Gatekeeper and I loaded up the mini-van and headed back to European Sink Atlanta. As a satisfied repeat customer, I walked in that place like I owned it and announced without shame to the lovely saleslady who greeted us: “We’ve got a house full of company and a clogged toilet situation. We need a TOTO.” 

She was ready and willing to help us find the exact model for our needs. But who knew there were so many features to consider?! When I bought my last TOTO®, I really didn’t do any research beyond asking my friend John about the brand. I chose the TOTO® Clayton™ because of the way it coordinated with my other powder room design choices. It was pricey, but so worth it. It’s gorgeous and performs like a dream. 

But this time, I felt like I was ready for the advanced class on Toilet Talk.  

Other than the fact that I knew it had to be a TOTO®, our new toilet needed to meet three criteria. This one was going into the kids’ bathroom upstairs, so it needed to be very utilitarian and easy to clean; style was not as much of an issue. I also knew that I never wanted to hear another house guest rummaging for a toilet plunger – so flushing performance was critical. And thirdly, I wanted to keep the cost down. 

These three requirements were enough to point us in the right direction of the showroom. But Lordhavemercy! The choices! Did we want the SanaGloss™ protective porcelain glaze to make cleaning even easier? (YES! Der.) And what about flushing technology? Would the G-MAX be enough for our incredibly constipated extended family or should we go whole hog and get the TOTO® Patented Double Cyclone Flushing System? And of course I could accept nothing less than a SoftClose® toilet seat! That’s right people… there is such a thing. A toilet seat that closes slowly and silently on its own. Say goodbye to noisy slamming toilets. Tell me more, TOTO®. Tell me more.  

Did we want a one-piece unit with no pesky seam to trap all the poorly aimed boy pee?  Gosh, those are more expensive and heavier, but easier to clean. Oooh, how about a skirted model? I do have two little boys who apparently subscribe to the Dick Cheney method of “ready, aim, fire, miss.” Hmmm. Tough choice. And what about the water efficiency? I totally want to “be green,” but not at the expense of a poor flush. I am sorry Mother Earth, but I will sacrifice a little extra water for the sake of no skid marks. Shoot, it’s not like my kids ever remember to flush anyway. But with TOTO’s brilliant engineering and a possible rebate in my county for water-wise upgrades, it may be worth it to choose the “eco” model! 

Then there was the whole comfort factor. We are tall people. Should we get the ADA compliant model that is a little higher off the ground? Or, since this new toilet was going to be in the kids’ bathroom, should we get the standard height? Elongated bowl or round?  

And speaking of options, TOTO® offers a full line of Washlet seats with features such as remote controls, aerated warm water cleansing, deodorizing system, heated seats, and much more. Oh boy, this was going to be tougher than I thought. 

Thank GOD I had The Gatekeeper with me. He is SO practical, don’t you know. He was able to filter through all the information and decide without reservation within a matter of minutes on the biggest bang for the smallest buck. He chose The Eco-Drake® Toilet, 1.28 GPF. I am convinced that he partially chose this model so he could annoyingly repeat the Seinfeld quote “Love the Drake!” for the rest of his natural life. But as usual, he was right. This toilet is perfect for the kids’ bathroom. It is simple and attractive, water efficient, powerful, and economical. With tax and the SoftClose seat upgrade it was $301 out the door. 

I personally was much more interested in the TOTO® Gywneth™! And yes, partly because it shares the same name as one of my favorite celebs. The TOTO® Gywneth™ was totally out of our league though. Retailing at $680, it features a one-piece design, has the SanaGloss finish, is ADA compliant, and sports the Double Cyclone flush technology. That means it uses two powerful nozzles to create a forceful centrifugal action that cleans the rim and bowl thoroughly with every flush. Self cleaning, ya’ll! Can you believe it? AND the rim has no holes, which makes it even easier to keep clean and offers a seamless appearance. Pardon me while I wipe my drool. I find it captivating that a toilet marketed for being so clean has the same name as an actress so well known for her immaculately groomed undercarriage. Coincidence? I think not.

The Gatekeeper promised me we could get the TOTO® Gwyneth™ for the Master Bathroom someday… he said it was way too nice for the kids’ bath. I guess he’s right, as usual. Dammit.  

But back to The Drake. Love the Drake. The installation was pretty easy, according to my brother-in-law, Mr. Awesome, and his two crack-a-lacky helpers, my husband and his little brother (pictured below). He’s single, ladies, and he lives in Chicago. Email me for details. First come, first served. 

Just say "no" to crack.

 

Mmmm, look at all that baked-in goodness!

I just want to say, those designers and engineers at TOTO® thought of everything! Look at the picture below of my old toilet. You can see how the toilet seat was attached with metal screws, which had rusted over time and left a big old nasty mess every time the seat was closed. Disgusting.

Plus, look at all the Thomas-English-Muffinesque-nooks-and-crannies on the old seat which collected all the poorly aimed boy pee and proved nearly impossible to clean:

Ewwww! I’ll have you know that this toilet was cleaned by a paid professional less than a week before this picture was taken. Even Mr. Clean himself wouldn’t be able to get that dried-on tinkle out of those cracks and crevices. This is just poor design. Beamis, shame on you. 

But look at how the geniuses at TOTO® address this issue:

Shoot, look at that, I already see a few little sprinkles of dried boy pee on back of the seat. Not cool. But what I really want you to see is the fact that there are no metal parts here to rust and corrode. And the connection between the seat and the toilet is one long seam… so easy to clean. Now look at the other side:

See? More great design. Again, one long seam with plastic covers over the plastic screws. Those covers pop open for easy cleaning. Brilliant! 

The only thing missing here is a “bullseye” painted in the bowl, as suggested by a fellow blogger who knows a thing or two about boys and pee-pee.  TOTO® Gods, you may want to consider adding that as an interim solution while you are developing a self-cleaning lid (and base, and surrounding walls, and ceiling, Lordhavemercy). 

Oh look, here’s a picture of the venison sausage my brother-in-law brought with him and cooked on my stove one morning during his ten day visit. Yeah. With a diet like that, you can see why we need the extra flushing power. I bet I could flush all four of those greasy sausages AND the frying pan in my new TOTO® and still not have to use a toilet plunger. Now THAT’S a good toilet. 

Good Lord Almighty. How I survived those ten days is a mystery. I’m certain retiring my plunger had something to do with it though. Thank you TOTO®! 

So anyhooo, I just had to share the good news. It is hard not to gush about a marvel of engineering and design such as my new TOTO® Eco-Drake. I am seriously in love. LOVE, I tells ya. Get one. At least one. And tell ‘em Iris sentcha, honey. Clean is Happy! Truer words have never been spoken. 

© 2008 The Bearded Iris

The Sound of Silence

Breathe in. Sniiiiiiiiiffffffff. Breathe out. Ahhhhhhh. 

Do you hear that? No? Me neither. YES! 

They are gone. Our four house guests all packed up and left this morning. And I am blissfully skipping through my house erasing all evidence of their 10 days here. Ten. Yes, do not check your eyes. I had 4 extra kin in my home for ten days. Ten. Seriously. But now they are gone and I am washing sheets and towels, and cleaning bathrooms, and putting things back into their rightful places (when possible), with a bounce in my step and a gleam in my eye. And it is bliss. I never would have thought cleaning would be so satisfying, but today, I am in heaven. 

I am somewhat shocked though because their departure was a little bittersweet. You see, I actually really like the two of my husband’s siblings who were staying with us, and the husband of my sister-in-law proved to be the most pleasant surprise of all! I never had the chance to get to know him before, but it turns out that he is nothing short of AWESOME. Seriously. Totally great guy. Renaissance man extraordinaire. Smart, funny, handy, crafty, helpful, and totally great with the kids. This guy can juggle, do origami without instructions, bake dark chocolate delicacies from scratch, install toilets, and do a Lightsaber impersonation second only to the digital sound effects produced by Lucasfilm. And his Yoda is not bad either. This guy is one of a kind. 

The five of us adults had a wonderful time together when we weren’t forcefully separating the toddlers from cannibalizing each other. We played cards until the wee hours, just like I did in college. We banded together to make a photo slideshow DVD of my Father-in-Law’s life for his 80th birthday party, reminiscing about things like classic Italian music and hideous 80s hairstyles. And we worked together like a well-oiled machine to make this Thanksgiving the best one yet.

My sister-in-law traced children’s hands, cut them out, glued on the mini-googly eyes, and supervised the kids decorating efforts to make the cutest little place cards you ever did see, and her AWESOME husband hand cut individual tiny intricate deciduous leaves of various tree species to make wine tags for all the adults (seriously… he’s practically an Idiot Savant: “This is a Black Walnut Leaf. This one is from the Banyan Tree.”) Mr. Awesome even stayed up very late all by himself Thanksgiving eve making the most amazing caramelized sweet potato, apple, maple syrup concoction that has ever passed my lips. Best of all, he was totally gracious when I ruined the gorgeous presentation of it by haphazardly double stacking two trays of it into one serving dish it to make room for the monstrous vat of Stove-Top Stuffing® one of my less sophisticated sisters-in-law had the audacity to bring. Jesus… don’t get me started on that. Ooops, too late. I’m already thinking about it. Dammit. Can you believe that shit? I purposefully assigned the critical job of The Stuffing to one of my sisters-in-law who I thought could handle it appropriately, and you know what happens? She shows up with two very small CorningWare casserole dishes of her stuffing because she couldn’t find a bigger container, one of my nieces shows up with a big bowl of her own version of the exact same stuffing minus a few critical ingredients because she doesn’t like onions and celery, Lordhavemercy, and yet another sister-in-law shows up with a fucking TROUGH of Stove Top in a casserole dish that looks like it came from the Goodwill, about 30 years ago.  So now I have FOUR, count them, one-two-three-FOUR, ugly casserole dishes of three different stuffings crowding my very modest counter top. Elitist? Me? Fine. So be it. I just work way too hard busting my ass to make a nice meal to have it aesthetically RUINED by a plate of sliced canned cranberry jelly and a choose-your-own-stuffing-bar. I mean really. If you don’t like the ONE stuffing (in two bowls) I am serving, don’t fucking eat it. But don’t bring your own. Please. I beg of you. You can wait two hours to get home and eat your own tacky shit. Don’t spoil my beautiful buffet. And for the Love of God people, when you go to dinner at somebody else’s house and you offer to bring a dish, it absolutely MUST BE “table ready.” Do not show up with a bunch of cans in a Piggly Wiggly bag and say “Where is your can opener, Aunt Iris? I need to put together the green bean casserole.” Oh no you di-int. I will kick you until you are dead if you pull that shit again, Noreen. 

OK. I feel better now. Thank you for listening. 

So anyway, back to the house guests. Yes. They left today. And even though I’m really glad to be able to just relax in my own home again, unhindered by the constant barrage of questions such as “Could you give me your wireless Internet access code again?” and  ”Where do you keep the plunger?” and “Can I borrow your toenail clippers?” (I swear to God, I couldn’t make it up if I tried, and ewww, I just threw up in my mouth a little by thinking of it.), I am actually going to miss the adult interaction. I really do not get enough of that on a daily basis and it was so nice to be able to talk to other grown ups about something other than one of my children’s eating or toileting habits. Life as a Suburban POW is very monotonous at times. 

But it is over now. They are gone and we can get back to our regular life. Bucket Head can move back into his crib, and out of the porta-crib in my room, which means my husband and I can get back to normal as well. Nothing adds extra tension to a home than a house full of guests with IBS and long toenails, and the inability to get busy with your spouse. Damn. It sure has been a long ten days. 

So anyway, I guess I better quit blogging, go switch the laundry, sweep up the nail clippings, and jump my poor deprived husband. Just another day in paradise.  

I hope you all had a joyous Thanksgiving filled with gratitude, delicious food, and an abundance of love and good wine. And I pray that the mayhem you had to tolerate this week, up to and including clogged toilets, public displays of grooming, pilfered medicine cabinets, biting toddlers, and stuffing-from-a-box will not outweigh all the good stuff that comes with holidays and family time… whatever that is. Kidding. I love my family. I do. Three-hundred-sixty-three more days until next Thanksgiving! Woooo-Hoooo!

Oh hey, speaking of which, here’s one recipe you can stick in your pocket for next year. Here it is, courtesy of my brother-in-law, Mr. Awesome, the recipe for Maple Glazed Sweet Potatoes and Apples. Enjoy it, ya’ll! I know we did!

House Guests

As if getting ready to feed 22 crazy extended family members Thanksgiving dinner isn’t enough to keep me busy, we’ve got house guests, ya’ll. 

Four of ‘em. 

They’ve been here since last Thursday. Sleeping here. Eating here. Pooping here. They are staying for 10 days. What is that saying about house guests and fish? 

But wait, it gets worse. Two of them are sick and spreading their germs all over my house. With each sniffle, each blow, each hack, I hold my breath and pray that I don’t catch it. I can’t afford to get sick this week… not with all this cooking, and cleaning, and hostess-ing to do.  

That’s not all though, one of our house guests is a “terrible-two” year old only-child with “sharing issues.” Turns out Bucket Head is a biter! Who knew? It is kinda funny, actually. He is NOT going to let his big cousin take his toys right out of his pudgy little baby hands, dammit! And his poor cousin is having a devil of a time learning this. So, needless to say, it is very difficult to precook casseroles and hide piles of neglected paperwork and manage my regular load of daily crises when I am being summoned every few minutes to the sound of shrieking bitten and biting toddlers. It is like trying to separate mating mountain lions, and quite frankly, I’d rather not. 

So there’s that. But there is also all the extra work that goes along with house guests. Sure, sure, there are extra sheets and towels to wash, that’s a given. The daily cooking load increases. Yes. But I’m talking about all the extra social responsibilities. A home should be a retreat – a place to go when you want to get away from the world and just relax… a quite impossible feat when you’re fielding questions night and day such as: “Where does this go?” “Do you have any decaffeinated tea bags?” “How does your remote control work?” “Anything special I need to know about your washing machine?” And my least favorite: “Where do you keep your toilet plunger?” 

In the Name of All That Is Holy, with everything else on my plate right now, please do not also ask me to deal with other people’s shit this week. I have enough of my own family’s shit to deal with on a daily basis… anything else is above and beyond my job description and skill set. 

You know, you take for granted the little quirks of your home when you don’t have guests. You learn the tricks for how to open the back door that sticks, or how to work the key in the tricky lock. You learn, and you compensate, and you work with your home’s special needs. But when you have guests, you need to teach them all these little idiosyncrasies so they can survive in your natural habitat. This requires time and patience. Two things I really can’t spare right now. 

But like anything else, if you invest the time and energy upfront, your payback will be sweet. If you don’t, God help you. The mess that follows is always so much worse than the time it would have taken to just do it right in the first place. 

One of the many quirks of my suburban jail tract home is that the plumbing in general sucks and the builder-grade toilets are completely inadequate. At one point when my husband was out of town and my four year old son clogged one of the toilets so badly that I had to purchase and utilize an actual auger to fix it, we knew that we would need to upgrade our toilets sooner than later. But like most things in which I am a participant, it was done totally half-assed (pardon the pun), and we only got around to replacing one: the powder room toilet on the main level. The toilet we thought would get the most action when we had guests.

The five occupants of my home know that the powder room toilet is THE ONE to use and we respect it. But we failed to teach this to one of our relatives last year and he had a particularly unfortunate 2nd floor toilet clog that flooded the kids’ bathroom and leaked through the ceiling into our family room. Not pleasant. 

Apparently, we’re slow learners and forgot to teach our latest batch of guests the house rule about which toilet to use for serious bidness. So, as luck would have it, last Sunday after breakfast, I heard one of our guests upstairs asking for the plunger. Then I noticed that the other upstairs commode was also clogged. Double simultaneous toilet clogs. Clearly these people need more fiber. I was beside myself. If our plumbing can’t handle 4 house guests… what is Thanksgiving day going to be like with 22? 

Panic. I am in a full-frontal-panic. We need to DROP EVERYTHING and get a new toilet for upstairs before Thursday.

More evidence: two years ago one of my sisters-in-law came out of the powder room after her pumpkin pie had hit bottom, unabashedly demanding some Oust or a fragrant candle. Last year I was prepared for her… I had a plethora of odor masking items prominently displayed in the powder room. But this particular sister-in-law must have laid some especially malodorous pipe, because even with the Oust and the candle and the matches and the electric scented oil diffuser, she left the fan on and closed the door behind her after she created her masterpiece. For the next two hours, everyone thought the powder room (the ONE bathroom with the good toilet) was occupied and trudged up the stairs, past all the laundry and kid clutter I had stashed, to unknowingly clog the two old builder-grade toilets up there.  Lord have mercy… I am getting hives just thinking about crazy old Uncle Charlie thumbing through my stash of Pottery Barn catalogs in the master-suite.

OK, I’m revved up now. I have an action plan:

1.) Buy at least one new toilet before Thursday.

2.) Add extra fiber to the Thanksgiving menu.

3.) Teach sister-in-law the art of the courtesy flush.

What? You don’t know it either? Oh, let me help you out, honey. This strategy is a winner for odor-management (thanks MB!). But don’t do it on an easily clogging toilet or you are in for an unpleasant surprise. From www.urbandictionary.com: 

Courtesy Flush: a term popular in jail. A courteous thing to do when you have a cellmate and are in the small confines of a jail cell. A method you perform when in the jail cell to eliminate the smell of your bowel movement. Usually executed at the point of release from the anus and before it hits the water. The suction of downforce of the flush eliminates the gases as well as the odor of the loaf. ”Yo, do a courtesy flush bro, that shit smells dude.”

Stay tuned. I have a feeling the toilet shopping/installation the day before Thanksgiving is going to be blog-worthy.