Monday, December 12, 2011

Sending a 3-year old to his room for punishment

Brother pushes sister, who falls and bangs her head.
Brother sent to room and told to stay there.
When Mommy retrieves brother, he says, "I peed in my bed. You told me I could not leave my room."

Later that day....

Brother pushes sister, who falls and bangs her head.
Brother sent to potty and told to pee.
"I don't have to pee," he says.
"Don't pee in your bed then!" Mommy says, as she sends him to his room.
When Mommy retrieves brother, he says, "I pooped. I did not pee in my bed though."

Hide And Seek

How to play Hide and Seek according to my son:

Him: "Mommy, let's play Hide and Seek."
Me: "Ok."
Him: "I am going to count to ten and then I am going to hide."
Me: "Ok."
Him: (Eyes covered): "1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10! I am going to go hide under my train table! Come find me!"
Me: "Ok."
Him: "Mommy! I am under my train table! You cannot find me! Where am I? I am under here!"

(My role in this game is crucial.)

Thursday, December 1, 2011

A sentimental one...

Those of you who follow my blog know that my usual posts revolve around a myriad of bodily function-related events with some tantrums thrown in there. However, at this time of year I find myself getting a bit teary-eyed and just plain thankful.

As of late, the biggest "problems" in our house include:

1. Getting our now 3-year old to eat dinner (any of it, even a bite)
2. Getting him to share his piles of toys with his almost 1-year old / almost walking sister who is in his business all day
3. Figuring out where to put the onslaught of new toys / books / stuff coming in to the house since both birthdays and Christmas all fall in the same 6 weeks.

So, to sum up, our "stresses" and "problems" basically fall under the "we have excess in this house and don't know what to do with it" category.

Then I think about children who do not have 4 separate dinner options. They have no dinner option. And I think about children who will not have to worry about where to put all of their new toys on Christmas. They will not receive any toys and there is plenty of space because they do not have any old toys.

And then I sit at night after my well-fed and well-entertained children are in bed and I thank God for my problems.

Thursday, October 27, 2011

Swimming lessons

My son is taking swimming lessons -- the kind where Mommy has to GET IN the pool too. Nothing like squeezing your out-of-shape-you-thought-you-were-in-the-clear-because-it's-almost-November body into a bathing suit to take your resistant toddler clear across town to a non-heated pool smack in the middle of dinner time (oh and your husband is out of town for work so you have to find a babysitter for the baby) only to have him say the whole time, "I am all done with swimming, Mommy."

To try to distract him from our teeth chattering and to inspire some interest, we start talking about opposites (one of his favorite games -- see post on "conversations").

He asks, "Mommy, what is the opposite of float?"
"Sink."
"Like in the kitchen? That is always full of dirty dishes?"

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

Conversations

"Mommy, can I hold your ring?"
"No, this ring is special. We cannot lose it. Mommy wears it every day. It means Mommy is married to Daddy because Mommy loves Daddy."
"Am I married?"
"No, but you can get married when you are a grown-up."
"Is [sister] married?"
"No, but she can get married when she is a grown-up too."
"I don't want to get married. I just want to be a daddy."
"Good luck with that."
_______________________________

"Mommy, what is that on your forehead?"
"My eyebrow."
"No, what is that line on your forehead?"
"Oh, that would be a wrinkle."
"Why are there so many of them?"
________________________________

"The opposite of big is small. Big like an elephant and small like a bug.
The opposite of up is down. Up in the sky and down on the ground.
The opposite of young is old. Young like baby [sister] and old like Mommy. Or a dinosaur."

Friday, October 14, 2011

The power of the cookie

I have learned recently of the power of cookies.... to make a toddler go on the potty chair. My almost 3-year old son FINALLY pooped on the potty and received the much anticipated cookie he has been promised for what seems like forever. (My husband bought the box of cookies weeks ago and obviously he and I have just been eating them after the kids go to bed... Good thing there were still 2 left for this unexpected and much prayed for event.)

Side notes which will be relevant: Poop was large man-sized-poop
                                                      Also, my son usually only poops once a day.

Later in the day kids and I are at my second home (also known as the grocery store in some cultures). And to promote this potty-progress, I get more cookies and go so far as to allow my son to hold them in the cart (which he does, very carefully, as if this box were actually the holy grail). Just as we enter the last aisle and I am about to wrap up a fairly uneventful shopping trip, I hear, "I have to poop, Mommy."

I know this is not true (review side notes above) and this is solely in the hopes of breaking into the holy cookies. I try all my tricks to dissuade him, but he insists that yes, in fact, he does have to poop. And no, he cannot wait until we get home. He has to poop here, at the grocery store.

I drive the bus that is this ridiculous shopping cart -- with a huge plastic car stuck on the front that provides him with the illusion that he is driving -- to the rest room, park it, unstrap both kids, and get the party started.

Seeing no other option, I put my 10-month old crawl-happy daughter down on the public restroom floor while I get his shoes, pants, and underwear off. It takes her about 1.5 seconds to sense her freedom and she of course takes off. I frantically try blocking her path with my leg while holding him on the potty (requiring me to adopt a half-squat position with one leg straight) but she is too quick and too smart. Up, over my leg she goes, under the door, and out of the stall. This means my son has to use both hands to hold himself up, touching more of a public toilet than he has ever touched before (which I guess was going to happen at some point) while I retrieve Houdini-baby.

Once we were all corralled back together, he says (shockingly), "I don't have to go."

Thankfully the hand-sanitizer fairy had visited the restroom so I was able to bathe them in Purell immediately.

Friday, September 30, 2011

In defense of soccer moms....

You know who she is -- maniacal cell phone talking, Starbucks chugging, mini-van driving woman weaving in and out of traffic, all with those cute stickers on her back window of Mom, Dad, 3 kids, a dog and a cat, as well as a proud bumper sticker proclaiming her 5th grader's honor roll status. Maybe you are her. Maybe you judge her. Maybe you swear you will never be her...

Well, I have recently begun to realize and appreciate the reasons behind said "soccer mom's" crazed behavior on the road.

First: the cell phone stuck to her ear. She is probably on the phone with one of her children's teachers discussing an "incident" from school that day, or a coach volunteering to bring snack for the team to the next practice, or the pediatrician trying to schedule a flu shot, or maybe, just maybe, she is on the phone with a girlfriend she has been trying to connect with for weeks. Now, with her children physically strapped in and unable to climb up her leg and grab the phone out of her hand, she is taking 10 minutes to catch up with that friend. Likely, however, one of the first 3 scenarios is accurate.

Second: the Starbucks coffee. This is a necessity due her functioning on 47 minutes of sleep because of one child teething, one child up 3 times with nightmares, and planning an upcoming birthday party at midnight since that is the only time everything else is done and there is peace and quiet. Or maybe she just felt that she deserved a $4.00 coffee as she looks down at her 7-year old outfit and $1.00 plastic flip-flops. (And if you are about to say that she should take herself shopping, trust me, she has thought about it. What woman does not want new trendy clothes? But then the thought of having to search the racks, try on clothes, and wait in the endless check-out line with the two small people in tow negates any desire for a new outfit, hence the sad ensemble that is now covered in $4.00 coffee.)

Third: The crazy driving. This is likely due to her timing her day down to the second and not having the option to allow for traffic, construction, or slow-poke drivers. Child #1 needs to be picked up at 2:30. Child #2 did not go down for nap until 1:00 (despite Mom's best efforts) so, being the best mom she can be, she let child #2 sleep as long as possible before ripping her from her peaceful sleep to throw her in the car in order to pick up child #1 on time. Or maybe she is driving like a maniac trying to get the kids home for lunch before they fall asleep in the car so that they eat a good lunch and take full naps at home, thus preventing several meltdowns that would occur otherwise.

Although my kids are still quite young, I do drive a mini-van, and my son does play 2-year old soccer, so  I guess TECHNICALLY I am a soccer mom. And I am here to say to all of the other sleep-deprived moms with unbrushed hair and mis-matched shoes who are zipping by cops and accidentally uttering 4-letter words we pray our kids don't repeat, I am with you. No one gets it but us.

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

1st day of school

1st day of school (school = 2 year old Children's Day Out) report:

All sorts of compliments about his academics -- attention span, knowledge, etc.

But did anyone else's kids poop / pee through all THREE of the outfits I brought, only to be sent home in the random church donation pants? Nope -- only mine.

Conversation on the way home:
"If you want to go back to school, you need to tell your teacher when you have to poop and pee and go on the potty. You cannot poop and pee in your underpants."

"I won't go back to school. I will just stay home with Mommy."

Sigh.

Saturday, September 3, 2011

A poop story to top all other poop stories

Just when you think you have seen / done it all with your kids' poop...


Toddler runs into room yelling, "I pooped in my underpants! I pooped in my underpants!"

You put down your morning glass of wine... (Just kidding! You wish!) Likely, you put down the laundry you are folding, or your cold coffee poured 2 hours ago, or maybe just your other child, and with a sigh say, "Okay. Let's clean you up."

Once in the bathroom, you survey the situation and stupidly think that the clean-up will not be too bad -- it is a solid mass, easily flushable, after which the underpants will be thrown in the washer.

You begin helping your child pull down his stinky underpants as is the usual routine. However, he is so upset about having pooped in his underpants that he won't stand still and loses his footing... and yep, he puts his foot down, smashing the "solid mass" into a poop-patty in the underwear. And yes, he put his foot directly in it. As he is still a bit unsteady on his feet, he then picks his foot up and puts it down again, making a distinct poop-print on the floor. Also, while you were attempting to hold Mr. Wobbly-legs steady, you also toppled a bit and indeed put your hand in the poop underwear as well.

Meanwhile, child #2 is screaming bloody murder in the other room and has just started crawling, so you can only imagine what she is eating, climbing on, etc. You actually have to say the words, "Hold on, sweetie. Mommy will come get you as soon as I wash the poop off of our hands and feet."

And then you return to the rest of your glamorous life.

Wednesday, August 31, 2011

A short letter

To all critics of mommies who live in sweatpants:

Next time you pull a freshly laundered outfit directly from the dryer, put it on, and have your child explosively poop all over it 12 minutes later, then criticize those of us who sometimes don't bother to put in the effort.

Signed, a mommy in sweats (who was in a pretty dress earlier)

Monday, August 29, 2011

Mommy Vacation

First time away from kids for multiple days due to a fabulous girlfriend's wedding...

Mommy was able to do the following:

Get a manicure
Drink more than my fair share of wine
Drink hot coffee -- not cold and not chugged
Have uninterrupted adult conversations
Have 7 hours of uninterrupted sleep
Wear jewelry
Wear hair in non-ponytail style
Read a grown-up book
Pee in peace






Labels

So my two-year old starts "school" next week (a Children's Day Out program one day a week) and all of his belongings need to be labeled.... Sure. Got it. No problem.

Some of my crafty and much more together mommy friends ask if

 1) did I create and print my own labels
                   or
 2) did I buy them online.

So I guess my plan to label everything with a masking tape / permanent marker combo won't do?

Monday, August 8, 2011

The Case of the Missing Poop

When child poops in underpants and Mommy pulls them down to do some damage control, chances are the "treasure" inside said underpants could fall out...

and roll away...

and get lost.


When people get ready to have kids, they can probably anticipate certain scenarios. You know you will be changing diapers. You know you will be puked on, and maybe peed on occasionally. But how many people can envision themselves crawling around the bathroom floor on their hands and knees searching for a missing ball of their child's poop?

Friday, July 29, 2011

And the potty-training adventures continue.....

"Do you have to go potty?"
"No."
"Are you sure?"
"No."
"No, you don't have to go? Or no, you are not sure?"
"I don't have to pee!"
"Okay."

2 minutes later, from the other room: "I peed."



Upon leaving a play date this morning....

Walk outside into parking lot in 100 degree heat with toddler and crying baby, who is overdue for nap. Toddler climbs into van while I load baby into car seat and strap her in. Start car to get air conditioning going. Fold up and load stroller into back of van. Walk around to other side of van and help toddler get into his seat. Strap him in.

"I am peeing."
"Did you already pee in your pants? Or do you need to pee?"
"I need to pee."
Sigh.
"Okay, you need to hold it for a minute okay?"
"Okay."

Unstrap toddler and help him out of seat. Walk around to back of van, take stroller back out. Unload baby (now screaming), load her into stroller, turn off car. Walk back into building to bathroom. Since toddler insists being completely naked before peeing, his shoes need to come off first. One shoe off, other shoe off, shorts off, underwear off. While holding him up on potty,

"I don't have to pee."

Thursday, July 21, 2011

Logistics

Carting around two small people under the age of 3 has taught me that among many other things, mothers have to be experts at logistics. I am not talking about multi-tasking -- i.e.: having dinner cooking, catching up with a girlfriend via phone that you have not talked to in months, doing a load of laundry, keeping the kids entertained, and cleaning up the kitchen to make room for the new mess -- all at the same time -- that's a given.

Mothers also need to anticipate and prepare for the logistics of any and all situations.

And, you guessed it, this story will relate to potty-training...

My 7-month old recently graduated up to sitting in the front of the shopping cart -- therefore moving out of the car seat that was previously taking up 87% of the main section of the cart. While this has made the arduous task of grocery shopping much easier, it also provides a logistical challenge when my 2-year old son needs to use the potty at said grocery store. Luckily I anticipated this dilemma on the drive over and began brainstorming...

How was I going to hold the baby while simultaneously helping him hop up onto a regular sized potty, hold his skinny little self to prevent him from falling in, and also help him point his penis down to avoid the pee-spray? The shopping cart does not fit in the bathroom, and I cannot put her down on the floor. (How many other children have done the pee-spray on that floor? I can only imagine. Gross.) Before her big move into the front of the cart, I could have put her entire car seat on the bathroom floor, but I am enjoying this new life without that monster too much to regress. So.... two options: put her in the stroller, go inside of store to bathroom, pee, return stroller to car, go back into store, load into cart and shop (causing an extra trip back and forth to car in 100 degree heat). Or: carry her in Bjorn, go inside of store to bathroom, pee, go get cart and shop. I decided on option #2 despite this allowing her close enough proximity to touch the public toilet seat while I was crouched down in front of him on the potty. Thank goodness for hand sanitizer.

Now despite me proudly labeling myself as a logistical guru, I have yet to solve this one final obstacle:

Since the actual temperature outside is 100 degrees, Mommy is also pumping herself full of water. Any chance she can relieve her bladder while out of the house? Ever? Ha.

It's all about the logistics.

Sunday, July 17, 2011

Potty-training adventures......

Let's begin by listing places my son has peed (other than all over the floors, carpet, and couch):

-- on the neighbor's front porch

--on his booster seat at the table

--in Mommy and Daddy's shower

--inside a kitchen cabinet

--in Daddy's sneakers


Next, let me describe the events of his bath this morning. (Warning: very graphic and gross)

Thank goodness his sister's bath was over and she was out of the tub before I heard him grunt, "I am pooping." I was in disbelief of this since in 2 1/2 years, he has never pooped in the tub. Surely now that we are 7 weeks into potty-training, he is NOT doing it now, for the first time. Sure enough, as I turn the corner with his freshly diapered and dressed sister, I see a large poop floating in the tub.... and it is starting to disintegrate. I am frantically racking my brain as to how to deal with this issue as it worsens in front of my eyes. Having just returned from a long walk in the hot sun, my baby girl is tired and thirsty, but she is thrown quickly into her bouncer as I spring into action. Well, despite my best efforts to contain the poop, all 26 alphabet letters, the baby's bath seat, and the rubber mat on the tub floor (as well as the entire tub) had to be bleached, rinsed, bleached again..... Sigh.



Finally, I will share the adventures of taking him out to a children's museum in "big-boy underpants" earlier this week. Realizing that we will never advance our potty skills if we don't take the plunge and go out of the house in underpants, I decide that taking the kids to a children's museum is one of the safer options. On the way there, we discuss going on the potty at the museum, which we do, immediately upon arrival. I am very proud of how willing he is to sit on a public toilet (something he would not do a couple weeks ago), and this pride overshadows the fact that (because he is boy and he pees FORWARD), he still managed to get pee on his shorts and on Mommy. No worries -- I brought a change of clothes for him. As for me, whatever. And plus, since this was such a substantial pee, surely he won't have any accidents in the hour that we will be here. After changing into outfit #2, we enter one of the rooms at the museum, where both kids happily start playing. 10 minutes later.... "I made a mess." After changing him into outfit #3, he tells me that the incident occurred on the slide. I locate some Lysol disinfectant, spray it all over the slide, and warn him to wait before going on again, as it is wet. He, of course, does not wait and immediately tries running up the slide, only to fall and smack his face.

Meanwhile, my daughter has been playing in a safe baby area with some soft toys. After my son is settled back into playing, I look over to see that she has puked prunes all over the baby toys. Oh, and she does it again at another baby play area 20 minutes later.



My husband keeps asking me how I feel about baby #3.....

Monday, June 27, 2011

The journey of potty-training

Attempt #1...

7:00 a.m.: 10 minutes on potty with no success
7:12 a.m.: child redressed, baby on boob nursing
7:14 a.m.: "I peed Mommy" (in middle of living room, on rug of course)

Attempt #2...

8:00 a.m.: 10 minutes on potty with no success
8:10 a.m.: Mommy finally takes first sip of coffee perked 90 minutes ago
8:25 a.m.: "I peed Mommy" (on living room couch)

Attempt #3...

9:00 a.m.: 10 minutes on potty with no success
9:15 a.m.: "There's poop in there Mommy" (pointing at butt)

10:30 a.m.: As 1st round of poop / pee clothes come out of the dryer, Mommy hears, "I made a mess in the play room, Mommy."
                  

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

A pretty good kid

Had a rough morning with my two-year old, including the following:

-Him being woken up at 5:30 a.m. by his screaming sister, leading to him bouncing into our room at 5:32 with 5 books in hand
-Him throwing an entire roll of toilet paper in the toilet because, after all, "That is where toilet paper goes, Mommy."
-Him "accidentally" spilling his breakfast milk all over the walls, floor, chair, himself, etc.
-His continuous resistance to potty training, leading to Mommy dealing with a whole lot of poop in the back of our mini-van at what was supposed to be a fun visit to the local fire station
-Him crying that he wants to go home for the first 10 minutes of being at the fire station, followed by 5 minutes of crying at the end because he does not want to leave the fire station

So, by lunch time (which is directly followed by NAP TIME!!) Mommy was pretty ready for a break from this little boy.

I put his lunch in front of him and said with a sigh, "Okay, eat it up please."

Rather than taking a bite, he just looked at me. Just as I was about to snap out of sheer exhaustion and frustration, he said, "Mommy, we forgot our prayer."

Suddenly all of my irritation that had built over the previous 7 hours was washed away and replaced by an overwhelming love and pride in the amazing little boy I am raising. I reached over, gave him a hug and kiss and said, "Okay, fold your hands." After our prayer, I told him he was a good boy and that Jesus was proud of him too.

Saturday, June 11, 2011

Pronunciations

My two-year old still struggles with pronouncing s-words, primarily words beginning with the "st" combination. He usually replaces this sound with "d."

For example.....

"stop" = "dop"

"street" = "dreet"

So we went for a walk this morning, and my little nature-lover found a stick that brought him tremendous joy. He expressed his excitement over and over.... and over and over.... throughout our neighborhood by shouting,

"I am holding my 'stick' Mommy!!!"

Monday, May 16, 2011

Pronouns

My two year old son still confuses using "I" with "you." This is cute in such phrases as...

"You want to watch Elmo, Mommy!"
"You want some juice, please."
"You put your shoes on by yourself."

Also endearing.... "You wear big boy underpants."

However, this pronoun confusion gets a bit awkward when he says in the bathtub...

"You wash your penis by yourself, Mommy."

Sunday, May 15, 2011

Even though...

Even though my son comes into my room every morning between 5:20 and 5:45, I find joy in the fact that he is always carrying at least two books -- because reading books is the very first thing he wants to do as soon as he opens his eyes. This is made extra special with the same phrase every morning (spoken with a precious 2 year-old lisp): "Want to read these bookths Mommy."

Even though my daughter spits up and/or drools on my face and in my hair every day, I love it because it is due to her wanting to grab Mommy's face and give her version of hugs and wet slobbery kisses.

Even though I sneer at the jiggly belly I cannot -- and may not ever -- lose, I touch my stomach with fondness, pride, and longing for the reason it is so jiggly.

Even though I struggle to get through the day when my husband is out of town, I find a sense of pride in having to do it all myself -- and as I peek in at my kids sleeping peacefully in their beds, I can say to myself that on this day, "You done good Mommy."

Even though I often resent and envy my husband's life out in the world, with grownups, and wearing clothes not off the clearance rack at Kohl's, I am appreciative that he works as hard as he does to provide us with the life we live. And having him gone, while it frustrates me, it makes me remember why we love it so much when he is here.

Friday, May 13, 2011

A few simple requests

Dear child #1... Please wake me up tomorrow morning at 5:45 a.m. Better yet, make it 5:30 -- the earlier the better.

Dear child #2... Tonight please repeat the festivities of last night and scream bloody murder from 9 p.m. to midnight (especially because I asked your brother to wake me up tomorrow at 5:30).

Dear child #1... In the morning, please have a tantrum over me giving you the wrong spoon with breakfast. Also, please throw some sort of utensil or breakfast dish -- it does not matter which one -- as long as it makes oatmeal fly all over the room.

Dear child #2... Please continue with your new trend of screaming as if you are in pain when Mommy is out of the room, only to smile and coo as soon as she reappears. Please try to do this as often as possible while your brother is also freaking out over something ridiculous. Mommy likes it best when you both cry at once.

Dear child #1 and #2... Please continue to stagger your naps so that there is no more than 10 minutes overlap. You know how Mommy hates peace and quiet.

Dear husband.... Please extend your work trip a few more weeks. The past few weeks without you here have been so pleasant that I would like more time alone with the children.

Dear body... Please continue to refuse to lose the last few pounds of baby weight despite my efforts at exercising. Keep up the stubbornness.

Dear coffee maker.... Please continue to not magically make coffee before I emerge at 6 a.m. with a hyper, wide awake toddler.

Dear house... Please continue to be a disaster, especially after I spend 2 straight hours cleaning (like you did yesterday -- good work on that one.)

Dear car... Please continue to follow house's lead.

Dear sanity... Please come back.

Wednesday, May 11, 2011

I will beat you pool!

Like many moms I know, I resist admitting that I am struggling or need help with my life as Mommy. My husband travels quite a bit for work and has been gone 2 weeks now, and life as a single mom has been a challenge with a toddler in the throws of "terrible twos" and a teething 5 month old. I have held it together for the most part, mostly by allowing the house to fall to shambles, living on peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and having a nightly glass of some sort of alcohol after the kids go to bed. Last night, however, I had reached my limit with patience and sanity and let it all out in a battle with the pool.

With a weather forecast of 95 degrees, I rushed out to buy a blow-up pool for the kids to enjoy yesterday afternoon. It's a big one -- comfortably fits 4 adults, so I needed to borrow Grandpa's air compressor to blow it up and fill it with water for an hour. After all of this, plus slathering two kids with sunscreen and getting them both in "swim diapers", we enjoyed a cool hour in our new pool. However, I realized after they were in bed last night that I needed to drain the pool and bring it in to the garage before the impending thunderstorm. Hmmmm..... how to tackle this project....

I pressed down on one side to drain some water, but this only allowed a small amount of water out. After several attempts at this, I resorted to locating my largest pot (hey -- might as well use it for something since it collects dust in my cabinet!) to scoop the water out. This continued for about 30 minutes until I THOUGHT enough water was drained to allow me to lift and flip the pool. Try to picture the sight.... Mommy outside all alone lifting one side, only to have the other sides fold in.... lift another side -- repeat effect. Also, periodically Mommy loses her balance in the fight and falls on the pool. With each attempt Mommy's language becomes progressively more profane and her clothes become progressively wetter and muddier. FINALLY after 45 minutes of battling our new blow-up pool, the darn thing flipped over, drained, and I was able to drag it into the garage. I wiped the hair out of my face, changed into dry, clean clothes, and sat down to a Corona.

I realized about 25 minutes into this battle as I was shouting words I hoped my kids did not hear that this fight was necessary for me to win -- I would prevail. I would beat the pool. Mommy can do this. Mommy can handle being a single mom while Daddy is out of town for weeks. She can do ALL the cooking, cleaning, diaper changing, disciplining, gas-getting, yard maintaining, oil-changing, bill paying, hugging, teaching, band-aiding, and --- pool setup and clean-up! And she will, damn it, because she is Mom.

Sunday, May 8, 2011

Mothers Day

Original Mothers Day fantasy....

Husband wakes up with kids at their usual 6:00 a.m., changes diapers, takes them downstairs quietly, and entertains them until Mommy wakes up at 8 a.m. to the smell of fresh coffee. Later they take simultaneous 2 hour naps while husband runs to grocery store to shop for an amazing gourmet feast he will prepare later.

Modified Mothers Day fantasy upon realizing husband will be out of town for work....

Kids miraculously sleep in until 7 a.m. and then spend the first hour of the morning playing quietly while Mommy enjoys her coffee. Again, they sleep simultaneously for 2 hours and do not whine, fuss, complain all day. Also, nobody poops, pees, or pukes through any clothes.

Actual run-down of Mothers Day 2011....

Baby awake from 4:30 - 6:00 a.m. with bellyache. Toddler awake at 6:30 having somehow peed through his diaper and soaked his clothes and sheets. Toddler meltdown #1 occurs at 7 a.m. over having to brush his teeth. At the restaurant where Mommy stupidly attempted a Mothers Day breakfast out with the kids, baby screams bloody murder until she pukes on Mommy. Toddler meltdown #2 occurs at 12:30 over having to take a nap. Said nap never occurs. Thankfully Mommy's sanity is restored when both kids are asleep in bed at 7:30 and Mommy sits down in her messy house to a good book and a glass of wine.

Monday, May 2, 2011

Just making memories....

I was introduced to the concept of "making memories" by my sister and brother-in-law (also parents of a toddler). The idea is to view our most embarrassing, frustrating, painful, etc. experiences with our toddlers as simply "making memories."

We have made some memories lately in our house.....

When I had to carry my 2 year old out of the zoo kicking and screaming while simultaneously pushing the stroller, I was just making memories.

When my toddler pressed the "automatic door" button in our van and the door almost crushed Mommy who was putting his sister in her car seat, we were just making memories.

When my toddler (yep -- him again) dropped our laptop causing $800 worth of damage, that is okay, because he was making memories.

When a button popped off of my shirt and flew across the room at a play date because it was still too tight to fit over my milk-filled boobs, no worries -- just making memories.

And finally, when I attempted to give my 4 month old a loving kiss and she puked in my mouth, Mommy did not mind, because she and baby were just making memories.

I guess I really should start scrapbooking after all.

Monday, April 11, 2011

Hazards of personal hygiene

You may want to consider safety goggles when clipping your children's toenails. Apparently if you don't, a clipping will fly up, hit you in the eye, and subsequently become lodged inside your eyelid. This will be neither comfortable nor convenient since it already took quite a bit of effort to get your toddler to sit still to have his toenails clipped, and now you will have to abandon your mission, allowing him to run amuck.

Sunday, April 3, 2011

Craft Attempt #2

(Read about craft attempt #1 in previous post.)

After failing miserably at craft attempt #1, I actually went out and bought the necessary items for creating our own bird feeder. If you attempt this craft project with a hyper 2 year old, you may also learn the following:

1. He will freak out when glue touches his fingers, which means you will likely make most of the bird feeder yourself.

2. While waiting for the glue to dry, he will become bored because he cannot paint it immediately. He will amuse himself by ripping up all of the newspaper covering the kitchen floor into tiny little pieces. He will then proclaim with a grin, "I made a mess!"

3. He will find the most exciting part of the entire activity to be purposefully spilling birdseed all over the kitchen. He will restate the accomplishment of #2.

4. The project will take the entire day, the house will be trashed, and dinner will never be made.

5. When you hang the bird feeder on a tree outside, it will instantly fall apart.

Monday, March 21, 2011

Thank You God...

2:40 AM..... You wake up to feed baby. Back asleep at 3:30.

5:25 AM..... You wake up to see toddler standing next to your bed holding 6 books. He announces, "I read all these books" followed by, with great pride, "I pooted."

5:45 AM..... You park newly diapered toddler on couch in front of Sesame Street and take an 8 minute shower.

8:35 AM..... You arrive at church. (Although you have now been awake for more than 3 hours, you are, of course late, so you must sit in the front row with your children who have not yet learned "church voices.")

8:42 AM..... (7 minutes later) While congregation quietly listens to pastor, baby makes very audible poop.

8:43 AM..... (1 minute later) You feel an alarming warmth all over your lap and down your pant leg. You look down to learn that -- yup, you are covered in poop. Baby looks at you and smiles.

8:44 AM..... You bow your head to pray and thank God for all of the wonderful gifts in your life.

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Mom's Top Ten

You know you are a mom when.....

10. You spend your birthday at the doctor's office with a sick kid.

9. Your husband asks what you want for your birthday -- Flowers? Jewelry? Dinner out? Your response: Husband to come home from work early to help with kids.

8. You make sure kids eat from all food groups, but when husband is out of town on business, your dinner is often a bowl of ice cream at 9:30 at night.

7. After spending 3 hours straight cleaning the house, you trip and almost fall over toys on the floor.

6. You are envious of people with social lives, yet when you have the chance for a night out, you are so tired you beg your husband to take you home at 9 PM.

5. While doing errands, you realize you forgot tissues for your child's runny nose so you wipe it with your own shirtsleeve.

4. #5 does not gross you out.

3. You smell your kid to assess whether he needs a bath.

2. You willingly spend the entire day in a shirt covered with baby puke to avoid making extra laundry.

1. While folding laundry you realize you washed and dried 2 rocks and a stick that you did not know were in your child's pocket.

Sunday, March 13, 2011

Our "craft" project

After hearing about all of the intellectually stimulating craft projects that my fellow mommy friends are doing with their kids, I decided it was time for me to join the ranks of "crafty mom" one recent rainy day. I gave it a good faith effort to come up with an idea on my own -- at least 30 solid seconds -- before Googling "craft ideas for kids." Aha! Here we go..... time to make a craft.

Step 1 (needless to say we never saw steps 2 -7) was to gather the following items from "around the house": glue, scissors, 20 popsicle sticks, 5 different colors of washable / non-toxic paint, 10 pipe-cleaners, several strips of scrap fabric, and yarn.

????!

Mommy's modified version: "Let's draw a picture with the 4 crayons I just found under the couch."


Tomorrow's objective: Go to the "popsicle stick-paint-pipe-cleaner-fabric-yarn" store.

Friday, March 11, 2011

An occasion to blow-dry my hair

My husband and I have decided to go out for a fancy dinner Saturday night to celebrate my 31st (eeek!) birthday. On my way home from doing errands, I excitedly call him at work to proclaim, "I am going to blow-dry my hair for the occasion!" It saddens me to admit that this has not happened since before my second child was born 3 months ago, but I eagerly look forward to an occasion that necessitates me actually putting forth the slightest bit of effort into my appearance. As I contemplate what outfit will fit my "no-longer in maternity clothes, yet still too big for my regular clothes" body, I glance down at my outfit of choice for today -- the outfit I wore out, in public, to run errands with my children.... The pajama pants (which I had worn to bed the night before and still had not changed out of) have both yellow and blue paint on them, reminding me that I had worn them to paint both of my children's rooms. The black long-sleeve t-shirt has a bleach stain on one sleeve and a small, yet growing hole in one armpit (also worn to bed the night before). Furthermore, having spent much of the morning embarking on the pointless endeavor that we mommies call "cleaning the house", I am not wearing my wedding ring. As I drive home from the last of my morning errands robotically singing "Heads, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes" along to the CD playing, the other half of my brain cannot help but wonder if the 17-year old cashier at CVS noticed my ringless hand and thought to himself, "No wonder your husband left you. You are a mess."

Hopefully a much improved woman emerges Saturday night! I will not put my "dinner" shirt on until 30 seconds before leaving the house. It will be nice -- for once -- to be able to turn my head and not smell baby puke on my shoulder, especially while enjoying an expensive steak and a glass (or two) of red.

Just a simple trip to the grocery store


After strapping your very boogery and cranky toddler into his car seat, you return to the house to retrieve your almost 3 month old (already in her car seat), upon which you smell a familiar odor. “Okay baby”, you say, “let’s change you quickly before we head out.” Ha! Not so simple. As you pull her pants off, you feel a warm goo on your hands and quickly learn that she has pooped through all of her clothes and it is all over legs, socks, pants, onesie… oh, and she just put her hand in it. Awesome.

15 minutes later, she is cleaned up in a totally new outfit and all of the poop clothes (as well as the blanket and burp cloth that also got poop on them) are in a pile on the floor, waiting to be dealt with later. Your hands are thoroughly washed (including under your fingernails -- how does poop get there?)

Back into the car seat…… and as you tighten her straps, she projectile vomits all over her sweater and anywhere possible on the car seat (which, as you recall, also has poop on it -- to be cleaned later). You realize that you are not going through this again, and she will just have to go to the grocery store in the puke. You clean her up the best you can and put her in the car, where you assess the situation with Mr. Boogers.

In the 15 minutes it took to clean the baby, the massive amounts of boogers he produces have been wiped several times onto both sleeves of his coat and are crusting over on his face. He does not mind, however, because he has been enjoying his drink and Cheerios through it all.

So off to the grocery store you go with Mrs. Poopy-pukes and Mr. Boogers. After sharing as many germs and horrible stenches as possible with the other shoppers at the store, you are finally ready to check out. Luckily, the baby is still asleep, but as you are paying the cashier, you notice that Mr. Booger’s nose is so out of control that the woman bagging your groceries has reached into her own pocket for a tissue and wiped his nose.

Okay Mom-of-the-Year, ready to go home? Nope. Just as you are about to exit the building into the 30 degree weather, you look for your toddler’s winter hat and realize that neither of you have it. The smart play here would be to not mention it and rush to the car sans hat. But Mom-of-the-Year stupidly says, “Where is your hat? Did you lose it?” You return back into the store to check the cart, but it is not there, which leads you to believe that it was lost somewhere in the 20 aisles of the grocery store. Knowing you have 5 other winter hats at home, you attempt to forget about it, but your emotionally fragile toddler begins to meltdown over losing the hat. He will be upset about it on and off for the next 2 hours.

Meanwhile, during the brief attempt to locate the hat, baby wakes up -- due to hunger? Sitting in poop? Sitting in puke? It is anyone’s guess. You are starting to smell that odor again….. But she cannot possibly have pooped again, right? There is nothing left in there! Ha! After a 15 minute drive home that was completely consumed with a discussion of the missing hat, and after unloading the groceries, and after quickly throwing all of the poop clothes from earlier in the washer and hoping for the best, you take her out of her seat to discover that yes, in fact, she pooped again. And yes, it is all over her clothes….. again.

It is now lunch / nap time for your boogery and cranky toddler. After baby is cleaned and dressed in outfit #3 (at 11 AM), and after an unsuccessful attempt at feeding your toddler lunch, you take him upstairs for nap. He only has a minor tantrum that lasts 20 minutes after which he falls asleep from exhaustion.

Upon re-entering the kitchen and sighing as you assess the disaster that is your house 24 hours a day, you realize you feel a bit nauseous. It is probably because you have not put anything into your body yet today other than coffee.

You are a mom.

Introduction

I was not going to be a stay at home mom. Loving my career as a teacher, I was definitely going to be a trendy working mom who raised highly cultured children in an urban environment. And I was never EVER going to drive a mini-van..... Two years later, I am a stay at home mom  who lives in the burbs on a cul-de-sac and recently purchased -- yep -- the dreaded van. I don't bake, I am not crafty, and I am horrible cook, but somehow every day the kids get fed, the laundry gets done, and I maintain some element of sanity as my brain atrophies into a watery blob only slightly resembling its former self -- the brain of a professional with a college degree.