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Friday, July 22, 2016

Job Title Change

I am a stay at home mom and at times I feel like the job title seems a bit too bland. I came up with a few alternatives based on personal experience:

1. Water conservationist - When it comes to small children you just can't trust them with water.  Not even a drop. I have warped floorboards and water stains on every single piece of furniture and my basement ceiling to prove it. I don't care how many times you have to refill your water glass, you get 1 inch at a time, so deal with it. 

2. Pooper scooper - Proper hygiene doesn't kick in for at least a decade after your kid can poop in the toilet. I just hope that nobody scans my house with a black light. Ignorance is bliss. Plus arson is frowned upon and that's probably the only way to remedy the situation.

3. Garbage disposal - Let's face it, I never eat off of my own plate, and I have definitely pulled perfectly good food out of the garbage or retrieved it from the sink before shamelessly stuffing it into my pie hole. I think I hit a low point when my kids put the last donut (with a bite already taken out of it) into the dog's bowl. I didn't even bat an eyelash and just brushed the dog food crumbs off and gulped that badboy down in one oddly mushy bite.

4. Hanky - My kids wipe their snotty noses on me constantly. I have also found that if they time it right, they can actually sneeze directly into my mouth making the tissue totally unnecessary. The plus side is that it opens up a slot in the grocery budget to buy more booze with.

5. Biofeedback Machine - One of my kids ate an entire can of kidney beans in one sitting. Yep, 210% of an adult's daily allowance of fiber. It's my job as a mom to ensure my kid knows the true meaning of "don't trust a fart."

6. Camel - If you bring a drink with you somewhere, don't plan on being able to drink it. Your kids will steal, spill, or taint it, and refuse to share their drink with you. It's a good thing I have developed the ability to carry water in my fat stores.

7. Wagon - My kids make me carry way too much. One time I was a weighed down with a purse, diaper bag, cooler, and arm child and was close to maximum carrying capacity.  Suddenly I found myself far enough from my destination to not be sure if I was going to make it without getting permanent nerve damage in one of my limbs.  Of course this was the exact same time the two older kids just "couldn't walk" anymore. Refusing to give up on our perfect plans, I  just said, "hop on kids, what's an extra 75 lbs at this point?" and lugged their whiny butts the rest of the way. We reached our destination and I was able to truly enjoy watching my tireless kids run in circles.  Luckily they didn't walk that extra 100 ft or they would have probably just napped in the sand all afternoon.

8.  Etiquette coach - showing your anus to strangers is probably not a topic even covered in the Amy Vanderbilt Complete Book of Etiquette so it's a good thing I'm around to fill in the gaps.

9.  Bodyguard - when one of those little punks at the park goes running full speed at my kid's back, I have absolutely no problem getting in the way, squaring my shoulders, and letting that little asshole bounce off me like a ping pong ball.

10.  Personal Banker - It's really important as a mom to keep track of your child's piggy bank contents. It makes it way easier to tell the doctor exactly how much needs to be located on the x-ray.

11. Plumber - Maybe it would have been a good idea to explain to my kids that only so much toilet paper can be handled in one flush, or that we don't put toys, toothbrushes, beads, dog bones, spoons, dolls, cardboard, or plastic eggs in there either.  Luckily I can turn the toilet water supply off at lightening speed and I can plunge with the strength of 3 grown men. 

12.  Bloodhound - Pretending I'm a bloodhound searching for a lost victim really helps me play a little game called "what is that smell, and where the hell is it coming from?"  It also helps with a followup game called, "I found it, it's unidentifiable, and beyond nasty."

Being a mom isn't all sunshine and rainbows, but instead of turning into a total crab about it, I choose to find the humor in it. There are a hundred other job functions that we sign up for and do without complaint, but it wouldn't be nearly as easy to do over and over again if we couldn't at least get a good laugh out of it all. 

Thursday, January 14, 2016

Poop Monster

I made a mistake.  A pretty serious mistake.  One that may have lifelong consequences.

My 3 year old son came running to me one day and exclaimed that he had the most exciting thing ever to show me in the bathroom and that I needed to close my eyes and follow him to the surprise.

Having been around the block once or twice I geared myself up to see something I neither needed, nor wanted to see (likely in the toilet), and kept one eye slightly open so he didn't lead me right into the door frame again.

H: "Ok Mommy, open your eyes!"

I have to admit that I was impressed. I've seen a lot of bowel movements in my day but this one was top notch.  Without even thinking I said "oh, you made a toilet Nessie"

H: "What's a toilet nessie"

Me: "Do you remember talking about the loch ness monster and how it poked it's head up out of the water?"

H : "HAHAHAHAHA!!!!"

So while this interchange was comical, I didn't quite realize what I had started by comparing his bowel movement to a mythical being.

Fast forward to today (approimately 3 months after the initial incident, and therefore around 90 thrilling bowel movements later).

H came sprinting from the bathroom exclaiming "Mommy, Mommy! I did it! I FINALLY made what I've been trying to make FOREVER!"

I must say that his excitement actually had me intrigued.

I followed closely behind him as he attempted to run toward the bathroom with his underpants still around his ankles.  To give you a proper visual of what I was witnessing, try to picture a naked child running in a pair of 1980s Payless shoes that were tied together with a 4 inch plastic strap.

We arrived at the bathroom, and there it was, a clear indication of a high fiber content meal. Two similarly sized logs, one over the other in the shape of a cross.

H: "Do you see it mommy?"

Me: "Did you make a letter T?"

H: "Can't you see it Mommy? It's a toilet Sasquatch!!!"

Yep, It was brown, fuzzy, had a head, 2 arms, and 2 legs.  Clearly a Sasquatch.  How did I miss it the first time?

Then I made another mistake by saying, "What are you working on next?"

H: "I don't know.  Maybe Cerberus.. I need to think about it."


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Wednesday, December 2, 2015

Windmill

Of the 3 of my children, H has the largest need for physical affection. I'm all about cuddling but his definition of cuddling isn't exactly the same as mine.

I consider cuddling to be sitting next to each other, maybe under a blanket, and either telling stories or reading a book.

H considers cuddling to be more of a driveby event. 

For example, H has a tendancy to move all 4 limbs  in a circular motion while simultaneously doing a sommersault across my lap (picture 4 windmills tied together tumbling down a hill).  As a result I've been kicked in the head, jabbed in the abdomen with an elbow or knee, headbutted in the leg or hip, and smacked in the face with his butt.  

I love that he loves me and wants to be with me.  I also appreciate that most of the time he catapaults himself across me we are both unscathed.  I can't however express enough how important it is that he NOT do this when he is totally naked. 

You're cute dude, but you're not THAT cute. 

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Passive aggressive toddler

H was bugging C pretty badly. He was all up in her business and she was being surprisingly patient.  She asked him repeatedly to stop and when he didn't she insisted that she was no longer going to play with him. From my perspective it appeared to be the end of the issue.

I was making dinner and C settled  herself at the table with some paper and a pen.  She asked me to spell a few words but I wasn't really paying attention.  The end result was downright hilarious. 


 "Dear Henry I hope you enjoy this book about being nice."

Apparently passive aggressive behavior is possible in a 4 year old.  Who knew?

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Old Dogs do learn new tricks, and mine is kind of an asshole

We've had our dog Petey for 12 years now. He's been a part of our lives for such a long time that I can't imagine what it will be like without him.  He's still doing surprisingly well considering he is around 13 years old.  

As he has aged we've all become more aware of the fact that our time with him is limited.  H keeps saying "Petey's probably going to die soon" to pretty much every stranger which isn't awkward at all (yes, that is sarcasm).  

All 3 kids have also taken to feeding him treats, scraps, and goodies since I made the mistake of telling them that old dogs deserve to be spoiled, which of course makes backyard cleanup a little extra nasty. 

Oh, not to mention the whole no pets on the furniture thing has gone out the window.  The excuses run from "he's too old to sleep on the hard floor", to "mom, he's cold," or "I just want to cuddle with him since he's probably going to die tomorrow." Of course I cave because I too am a total sucker.

I swear Petey has heard these discussions and has decided to totally mess with us. He has taken to laying with his eyes open and holding his breath just long enough for me to exclaim "oh shit!!!"  before he promptly perks up and starts wagging with a little doggy smirk as if to say "haha, I totally got you that time!"  

I swear this dog is trying to kill me first by giving me a heart attack.

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Thursday, July 9, 2015

Sticky Sticky Henry

I'm female and I had one sister growing up so I had absolutely no idea what it was like to be, or live with a little boy until I had H.  

One of the things that I find to be the most confusing is that the kid is ALWAYS sticky.  Actually, it's not even just his body that's sticky, it's his chair, the floor around his chair, the walls within 10 feet of his chair, most of his toys, and all of his shoes. I'm especially confused about the shoes...

Today while C was in swim class I was watching her through the glass and H was all over the place as usual. I started taking note of what he was doing with his body and this is what happened:

1. touch the glass
2. touch the floor
3. step on mom's foot
4. grab a random bottle of water and ask if he could drink it
5. touch the glass
6. touch about 7 chairs while trying to pick the perfect chair. 
7. sit for 3 seconds
8. lick the glass
9. smirk at mom
10. lick the glass again
11. manhandle A
12. lay on the floor 
13. smear something blue on the glass
14. materialize with a handful of squashed skittles
15. lick his hand
16. touch his hair


Having a little boy in the house may mean that more cleaning/bathing is required, but there are a lot of things I'll never need again, like a swiffer, or endust, or flypaper....




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