Monthly Archives: April 2012

No Bike Rides Allowed…

What I Said: “Hey kids, how would you like to go for a bike ride?”
What I Should Have Said: “Hey kids, how would you like to watch Mommy endure numerous scratches and bruises while she drags all three of our bikes out of the garage so we c…an spend a half hour trying to conquer one block’s worth of uneven, treacherous sidewalk while we argue about who should ride first in line, why it is not okay to stop for a water break every ten seconds and who will lug Olivia’s bike all the way home after she falls off it and decides she’s hoofing it all the way home.
*Note to self: NEVER AGAIN…and this time I mean it.
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Come One, Come All…

You are cordially invited to join me in my daily bitching and moaning session about everything, nothing and other random nonsense. Come one, come all. Those who bring wine are guaranteed not to be bitched about when they depart.

Diva Hairstyling 101: Learn To Be an Accessory Support Specialist…

Although it is a colorful addition to the resume and the title really does sound rather impressive, when all is said and done, it is truly one hell of a mentally and physica…lly exhausting job being an accessory support specialist to four and six-year-old divas in training. Braids, ponytails, side braids, hair feathers, clips, haedbands…the possiblities are endless and so are the requests. How’s a mom, who believes finding the time to simply dry her hair after a morning shower is considered diva-esque, supposed to know how to execute each and every one of these hairstyle wishes at a moment’s notice? There needs to be a class on this…

My First Born Turns Thirteen…

Happy birthday to my first born, Mr. Stewey D. Pug. Thank you for thirteen fun-filled years of snoring, sneezes, fur covered couches and love…♥

Read the Sign! Live the Sign!

Dear Children,

Feel free to to take a minute and ask me. Mommy just so happens to have a mile-long list right in her back pocket…

Love, Mommy

 

Plungers? We Don’t Need No Stinking Plungers…

Camryn, 6: “Hey Mom? Um, the toilet just got all stuffed with toilet paper, but I didn’t want to bother you or Daddy, so I fixed it myself. (big proud smile).

Mommy: “Wow. That was very nice of you. I didn’t even know you knew where we kept the plunger let alone how to use it. Way to take one for the team.”

Mommy: “Camryn, please tell me your hands are all wet from washing them and not from fixing the toilet with them…”

Camryn, 6: (silence)

Date Night…

The countdown is on until date night with the hubby is here. T-minus six hours. But, who’s counting. This gal right here. That’s who. It’s going to be a wild and crazy night. To start off our evening of romance we’ll spend the entire one hour and fifty-four minutes of the new John Cusack movie trying our damndest not to fall asleep and get our money’s worth.
Next, we will arrive at a guaranteed kid-free restaurant for dinner and spend the next hour ingesting alcohol and obscene amounts of food while instinctively resorting to talking about how the children are behaving for the babysitter, whether they ate all of their chicken nuggets for dinner or not, which child conveniently forgot to brush her teeth before bedtime, which child is giving it her all to make sure she is still awake when we get home, whether or not there will be a midnight potty trip if one or both forgot to pee before bedtime, what crazy household fun facts they felt it necessary to embarass us with by sharing them with the sitter, who lost which stuffed animal, therefore prolonging bedtime at least a half hour, how many glasses of water they drank after bedtime in order to have an excuse to get out of bed for another glass, which pets are forever emotionally scarred by the torture they were put through at the hands of the children, how many servings of dessert the girls swore Mommy and Daddy let them have and how bad their stomachaches are now, and most importantly, we will discuss when we will have our next night out at which we swear to talk about anything but the kids.

The Morning (Not So) Routine…

Mommy: “Olivia, it’s almost time to leave for school, so that means it’s time for you to pick out, change, change again, change once again, complain and whine about, and then finally engage in a full-blown tantrum over the shoes you will wear today.”

Olivia, 4: “Ok, Mommy. Um, how abouts today you just picks out whatever shoes you wants me to wear?”

Mommy: “And you will just wear them without whining or crying?”

Olivia, 4: (sighs) “Yes, Momma.”

…apparently hell froze over between the hours of 7:58 pm and 8:15 am and I never got the memo. Today’s going to be a good day. I can feel it.

Time For a Purell Bath, Kiddies…

I find comfort in knowing I am not alone in my unhealthy obsession with dirty, germ-infested, disease breeding public doorknobs, faucets, shopping carts, stairway railings, and cash register pens. I pride myself on trying to keep my children’s hands as far away from the above as possible, but if, by chance, contact is made…I’ll be that crazy lady in the corner slathering her kid from head to toe in Purell. No need to stop and watch…unless you happen to need a squirt too.

Farewell and Goodbye Forever, Mr. Knox Sir!

What’s worse than your four-year-old child insisting that you read Fox in Socks at bedtime when you are beyond exhausted and can barely see straight anymore? Your four-year-old insisting that sh…e reads Fox in Socks at bedtime when she is beyond exhausted and can barely see straight anymore. With all due respect to the late and great Dr. Seuss, I now officially hate the book Fox in Socks and it’s now my number one priority to make it mysteriously disappear from Olivia’s bookshelf as soon as she falls asleep tonight…

Parenting Fun Fact #97,651:

By the time your child reaches their third birthday, you will have enough expertise and knowledge under your belt to author a tell-all book about each and every public bathroom within a thirty mile radius from yo…ur house, including detailed informtation on whether or not they have diaper changing tables, offer paper toilet seat covers, the sinks heights so you know whether or not to bring your weight belt to lift your child at hand washing time, and of course, if they have motion sensor toilets, faucets and paper towel dispensers that truly do make a parent’s day that much brighter…

We’ll Always Be The Best Of (Facebook) Friends….

That moment when your eyeslids want nothing more but to retire for the night but you force them to work overtime so that you can fulfill your irrational need to browse random photo albums of people you haven’t seen or spoken to in over a decade and actually have no desire to see or speak to ever again…

Somebody Slap Me…Hard!

Someone give me a virtual slap upside the head as I contemplate replying to that “We reeeeeally need someone to step up to the plate or your daughter’s Girl Scout troop will no longer be a troop” email. Someone. Anyone. Give me all you’ve got and knock some f#*king sense into me…

Tickets, Please…

Fasten your safety belts and secure all loose articles because it’s time for this afternoon’s departure of the crazy train followed up with a quick spin on the hormonally charged roller coaster of emotions…<shakes fist at Mother Nature>

Cats Don’t Lay Eggs…

Camryn, 6: “Mom, I have to do a school project about an animal that lays eggs, but it can’t be a bird or dinosaur.” Mommy: “What animal did you pick?”
Camryn, 6: “The playtypus.”
Mommy: “For real.”
Camryn, 6: “For real. Now can we go to the library to get a book out on them?”
Mommy: “Cam, you have hundreds of books on cats. Why can’t you just do your project on cats since you already have so many books on them right here at home?”
Camryn, 6: “Uh. Mom. Probably because cats don’t lay EGGS!”
Mommy: (hangs head in shame) “Good point. Put you coat on. We are library bound.”

Thank You Lord…

As I gaze into her eyes, I want to reach out to hug her, tell her I feel her pain and that everything will be ok…but for right now, I am too busy thanking the good lord up above that I decided to stop at two. Yeah, I said it.

 

I Scream, You Scream, We All Scream For Poo…

Olivia, 4: “Mommy! Quick come up to the bathroom!”

Mommy: (rushes to bathroom based on urgency in Olivia’s voice)

Olivia, 4: “Mom, look how big this poop is! I mades it all by myself. Yep, the whole thing. Doesn’t it looks like an ice cream cone?”

Mommy: “Ya know, I kinda don’t want to admit it, but yeah, I think I sorta see where you’re coming from.”

Olivia, 4: “Ok, well can you wipes my butt now so I don’t have poopy underwears later on?”

Mommy: “Sure, you earned it.”

Unconditional Love…

Unconditional love folks. That’s where it’s at. Whether a size 2 or 22. Whether they’re kicking the wall and screaming because you won’t give them a fourth cookie or they are taking a moment to abandon the latest video on iCarly.com to give you a hug…just because.

Half the Calories? Ok, I’ll Eat Double the Portion Size Then…

Until 11:30 pm rolls around and I come up some bullshit excuse as to why it is totally acceptable and necessary to give the other half of the box of chocolates a home in my belly with it’s other chocolate friends…and hate myself for it by approximately 11:58 pm.

Mommy Jr. Is In The House…

If the kids are playing house and six-year-old Camryn declares she will be playing the role of “Mommy” to four-year-old Olivia who will be taking on the part of “a three-year-old baby” does it mean I automatically get to punch out of my role as the official house Mommy until they are done playing their game of house and decide to go back to arguing over who sings Justin Bieber’s new song better?

Mommy Epiphany #839: As Hard As It Is To Swallow, The Kitchen Exisits to Facilitate More Than The Preparation of Kraft Macaroni and Cheese, PB & J Sandwiches and the Ripping Open of Yogurt Sticks…

I would be a big fat liar is I ever ref…erred to myself as someone who enjoys, excels and/or choses to cook. I always search for meals of convenience, which 99.9% of the time include many, if not all items, that are microwave ready. If a recipe has more than three steps, it and I cannot be friends. However, lately I am getting the feeling my kids are on to my game. I mean, they have to wonder what that big metal thing in the kitchen that gets hot is and what it is actually used for. So, I have decided a culinary change is in order around these parts. I declare today the first day of my journey into cooking real meals and I am prepared to keep my fingers crossed the whole time I prepare it with the high hopes everyone in the family enjoys it at dinnertime tonight…that is, as long as I don’t burn the house down in the process and we miss dinner all together. Say a prayer and then please feel free to share your easy to make, sure to impress and most loved recipe in your house so I can add them to my non-existent arsenal of recipes I already have filed away over the years…

Dry Your Eyes, Know It All…

To that elite group of all-knowing mommies who, no matter what your mommy woe may be, are always there to offer their version of a solution, or various solutions, to your problem…because of course you haven’t already tried every trick in …the book and aren’t even close to pulling every freaking hair out of your head trying to conquer this bump in the road of motherhood. And to these same condescending mommies, as a token of my appreciation for your unsolicited and unwelcomed services, I offer you a box of tissues to wipe your tears as you cry yourself to sleep tonight while reflecting upon on how out of control your own child is and the fact you have no f*#king clue what to do about it.

The First Playdate With a Boy (Somebody Hit The Pause Button Stat!)…

Camryn, 6: “Hey, Mom? Could you help me open up this lip gloss?”
Mommy: “Sure.” Camryn, 6: “Thanks.”
Mommy: Huh? Wait up, Cam. Why do you need to wear lip gloss?”
Camryn, 6: Uh, well, so I can look pretty and ah, actually pretty fancy too.”
Mommy: “Ok, but in your six years of life, you have never once shown any interest whatsoever in lipgloss, lipstick, chapstick or any other type of makeup product other than those impossible to remove fake tattoos you always get in those birthday party goodie bags…”
Camryn, 6: “Yeah. So, how much longer until I leave for my playdate at Christian’s house?”
Mommy: “About ten minutes or so.”
Camryn: “Ok, I better go and put a second coating of lipgloss before we leave then.”

I’m Uh, Busy…

Ain’t it funny, and by funny, I mean disturbing, how such things as the mountains of laundry waiting to be folded, the overpacked dishwasher calling to be emptied, your stomach’s nagging desire to eat a full meal that contains something a bit more substantial than simply just Doritos, and showering the filth off of your body all seem to take a back seat to the overpowering need to update your Facebook status, yet only after taking an hour or so to first read through the groundbreaking news that is everyone else’s statuses on your news feed…

REWARD

Handsome reward if found…no questions asked…bonus bottle of top shelf vodka included with monetary reward if sanity is found and returned intact within the next 12 hours…

Lies…

Fairytales They Tell Before You Decide to Sign Up To Be a Mommy #348: Mommies Never, Ever Get Sick…
Dear LIARS,
While spreading your filthy lies, you may have overlooked the fact that some mommies, such as, me…will one day, during their role as Mommy, undergo surgery to remove some nasty endometriosis and a dud of an appendix. And because that won’t knock me on my ass and impair my mothering skills enough…two days into recovery, I will endure some other debilitating symptoms such as, not being able to lift my head off the pillow, throbbing ears, my throat feeling like it is lined with shards of glass every time I attempt to choke down another Tylenol, sleepless nights filled with bouts of coughing, cold sweats intermingled with chills and thermometers reading no less than 101.6. So, it’s official. It seems that Mommy superpower you promised has failed me. This Mommy is certifiably sick. And once my body heals, gains back strength and these antibiotics kick these awful strep throat germs asses into oblivion…I’m coming to kick yours. You have been warned. Shit’s about to get ugly up in here. If I were you, I’d start running right about now.
Sincerely,
A Scorned Mommy

Things That Really Matter…

…and an on-call, well-trained nanny, chef, hairdresser, makeup artist and housekeeper. Oh, and let’s not forget the real necessities, such as a bottomless box of Entemann’s chocolate chip cookies, a five gallon sized container of cookies and cream ice cream, a super-sized jar of chunky peanut butter, a bottle of extra strength Tylenol, a laptop with unlimited Facebook access and a case of wine…

Pooping Picasso…

You know you a full-fledged parent when you overhear yourself use the following phrase when talking to your child, “Is that poo or chocolate all over your fingers?”
 *Although this photo is not my child, I have been lukcy enough to experienc…e the wrath of the poopy diaper being unleashed when the kids were younger. And, since honesty is the best policy, I will take a moment to also admit that it may be genetic because my mom often tells a story of the day I did my best impression of Picasso…with poo instead of paint.

Healthy Eating…Just Not At Home…

Mommy: “Camryn, tomorrow’s lunch is tacos. Do you want to buy or bring lunch to school?”
 Camryn, 6: “BUYING! I just love the tacos! I even love the cheese and the green stuff they put on them.”
 Mommy: “You mean lettuce?”
Camryn, 6: “Yeah, lettuce.”
Mommy: “So, let me get this straight, you refuse to eat lettuce, or any other green vegetable when you are home, but lettuce is an acceptable food to eat while at school?”
Camryn, 6: Uh, well, yeah. I guess I just like to eat healthy foods when I’m not in the house.”
Mommy: “Oh. Ok, then. Well that makes perfect sense to me and doesn’t drive me up a freaking wall. Thanks for explaining.”

Music Tastes…

To My Dearest Cheesy-Pop-Music-Loving Daughters,

Please note that you will never, ever, ever, ever find a Justin Bieber, One Direction, Alvin and the Chipmunks, LMFAO or Hannah Montana album in MY music library. So, if the question ever arises and someone happens to inquire about your musical tastes…you just tell them it’s all Daddy’s fault. Thanks so much.

Love,

Mommy

 

Dear Wednesday…

Dear Wednesday,

Go to hell and f#*k off. Let’s just pretend we never even met. Now please go run and tell your friend Thursday to try a little tenderness tomorrow.

Sincerely,

A Not So Happy Camper

Target a.k.a. The Hundred Dollar Store…

The Plan: To not use a shopping cart at Target in an attempt to force myself to stick to only the items on my shopping list. The belief was that since I would have to carry all the items with my ow…n two hands, it would leave little to no possibility for unnecessaries, such as two flower adorned headbands, a package of those heavenly looking Entemann’s chocolate frosted cupcakes and a couple of those must have pieces of junk from the dollar section.
The Outcome: Plan failed. Miserably. And I am sure I completely embarrassed myself in front of the other shoppers and employees while giving the guy whose job it is to watch the store surveillance camera a good laugh when I resorted to some very creative methods in order to be able to carry quite a few of (okay, all of) those irresistible impulse buys plus the shopping list necessities to the check out counter.

The Ultimate Mindf#*k…

Agreeing to a game of Hangman with your six-year-old child who decides to put into play a variety of words that she has not yet mastered how to spell 100% correctly…yet doesn’t reveal her lack of spelling skills until you have pulled out every last hair on your head trying to figure out what the mystery words could possibly be.

The Public Tantrum…

That awkward moment when your child decides it is the perfect time to offer up a super sized, turbo-charged tantrum smack dab in the middle of Target over a bag of M&M’s and therefore, guarantees every shopper and em…ployee get a front row seat for the dramatic performance.
And then the next inevitable awkward moment when you force yourself to try and appear like you have everything under control and a solid procedure in place to tame the child and nip the public tantrum in the bud. However, in reality, you are on the verge of screaming, crying and having your own tantrum because you have no f#*king clue how to calm this unruly beastly version of your child and are using all of your brain power to figure out where ther nearest exit is located so the two of you can hightail it out of there.

The Cure All: Ice Cream…With ALL the Fixings…

…And then there are those really shitty days that call for chocolate syrup, rainbow sprinkles, marshmallow sauce, Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup chunks, cookie dough bits, whipped cream and a cherry…or two.

Enjoy The Silence…

The fear that strikes in the moment you realize you were just able to successfully complete an email from start to finish without any interruptions by the kids for cheese sticks, the sounds of a screeching cat being forced to play dress up …or a request for a butt to be wiped after going poopy on the potty. And as you sit there paralyzed by the terror of what may have taken place in those seven unsupervised minutes, you find yourself contemplating whether to continue basking in the rare moments of silence or force yourself to face the music, sooner than later, with a damage control inspection on the second floor of the house. Give them seven minutes and they’ll concoct a mess that could very possibly take seven days to clean up. The mess-making powers of a six-year-old and her four-year-old sister sidekick should never be underestimated…

When All Else Fails…

For when the going gets tough…this is my Plan A, Plan B and Plan C. Always does the trick…

Lions and Tigers and Judgemental Stares, Oh My!

Dear owner of the super annoying judgemental stare at the mall today,
Yes, my four year old daughter is out in public wearing a Wizard of Oz’s Dorothy costume. Get over it. And instead of bellowing out your obnoxious critique of her outfit… choice as we walk by you, stop a minute to step back, look at the big picture and realize what’s really important…and that is the obvious fact that she looks better than you do on any given day of the week. Now get yourself over to Macy’s and get your ass some decent clothes to wear.
Sincerely, Dorothy’s Mom
PS: 1986 called and they want their feathered hair and shoulder pads back.

School Bells Ring…Are you Listening?

Lunches packed with love, tomorrow’s clothes placed on their dressers with a smile and the backpacks sitting by the front door waiting anxiously to be carried off to school in approximately nine hours… and forty seven minutes…but who’s counting anyway? And there you have it folks, Mommy’s still standing and has survived yet another round of school vacation. Miracles do really happen.

How To Gain Five Pounds in One Night…

…In the form of the Velveeta macaroni and cheese the kids couldn’t finish at dinnertime, a few of their lonely leftover Mickey Mouse shaped chicken nuggets, three Entenmann’s chocolate mini doughnuts (two rather than one, because the word… mini means it is completely acceptable to inhale more than one per serving), the head and right ear of a white chocolate Easter bunny, the last of the Girl Scout Thin Mint cookies in order to prevent them from going stale and having to be thrown away, and a Chobani Apple Cinnamon yogurt to be sure I fulfilled my dairy requirement, but more because it eased my overeating guilt to end the day with a somewhat healthy food item.

Mommy Epiphany #3,208:

 To a parent, there’s not too many things more frustrating than that moment when your child shoots you an evil look, says something you didn’t even know they had in their vocabulary or pulls some appalling stunt that …makes you stop in your tracks and wonder where the hell they picked up that nasty habit… except the following moment when you realize they learned it by watching a professional…you.
Olivia, 4: “F#*king najamas!”
Mommy: “What did you just say?”
Olivia, 4: “I can’t get these najamas on so I say “f#*king najamas” to them!”
Mommy: “Ah ha. Well then, why don’t you let me give you a hand with those…and from now on we will refer to them as pajamas around here, not those words you just said.”
 Olivia, 4: “Got it.”

Dinnertime Drama…

And that’s wraps it up for tonight’s installment of Dinnertime Drama. Tune in again tomorrow for some more whining, crying and watch the children as they go to extreme measures to avoid eating their food. Will they feed their string beans t…o the dog? Will they hide their carrots on the bottom of the garbage can? Will they make like hamsters and store the unchewed food in their cheeks only to spit it down the sink when Mommy isn’t looking? The possibilities are endless and the fun never stops…here at…Dinnertime Drama.

The Devil’s Got Me In His Sights…

Apparently the devil’s got me on his list. Why else would he place this evil machine in my path while I was out on the town with my stuffed animal obsessed six year old who wouldn’t stop begging, pleading and whining long enough to listen t…o me tell her I would be willing to buy her one of each of the toys from the dollar store (for way less money than it’d cost me to buy four of the pieces of crap at the obnoxiously high machine price) if she would promise not to mention them for the rest of the day.

Can I Get a Check on the Sanity of the Woman in Aisle #6, Please?

You know you are drowning in school vacation days when you are looking forward to this evening’s supermarket trip like it is a week long vacation in Hawaii. An endless supply of food, peace, quiet and a kid-free shopping cart. An exhausted Mommy’s version of heaven on earth…

An Open Letter to the Makers of Cheese Coated Snacks…

Dear Cheetos, Cheese Puffs and Nacho Doritos,

F#*k you and the cheesy orange aftermath you never fail to leave behind on my children, their clothes, the walls, the car windows, the cat’s tail, the doorknobs, the toilet flush handle, the entire set of Crayola markers, the television remote, the couch cushions and the computer keyboard and mouse.

Sincerely,

A Pissed Off Mommy

Things my mom used to say to me when I was a kid that I swore I’d never say to my own kids #48,306:

“Take a good long look at me, little lady…because I’m the boss around here! Get used to it! When you grow up and have your own family…you can be a boss too!”

Turtle Anatomy 101…

Camryn, 6: “Mom, what does a turtle’s body look like underneath the shell?”

Mommy: “I can’t say I’ve ever met a shell-less turtle, so I really don’t know.”

Camryn, 6: (appearing completely flabbergasted): “Hmmm. Well, I thought because you are a teacher you would know things like this. Hmph.”

F#*k It…

Give me a second to find it…I know that one’s here…ah, yes…here it is, right between the files titled “I Just Don’t Give a Shit Anymore” and “Who the F#*k Cares Anyway?”

Bieber Radio…

I recently taught six-year-old Camryn how to use Pandora.com so she could listen to music on the computer. However, apparently somewhere along the way, she taught herself how to correctly spell Justin Bieber. When good ideas go bad…

I’m Not The Only One…Yeah!

That moment when you come across a fellow mom losing her cool while her kid is having an obnoxioulsy loud tantrum in the middle of Target and realizing you are not alone in your shopping with kids drama that day…

Mommy Epiphany of the Day…

If I knew then what I know now about being a parent… I would have made it a priority to buy lots of stock in Polly-O string cheese, Pepperidge Farm goldfish crackers and all brands of juice boxes. I would have also trained my body to poop only after 8 pm when the chances of a bathroom ambush were less likely since the kids have punched out for the day by then.

School Vacation Day #6 of 11…

Mommy sabbatical papers have been completed and submitted to the board. Hoping the fact that the children are still smiling and I haven’t checked myself into a psych ward earns me some bonus points. Fingers and toes crossed they approve my request…

Daily Exercise…

If this holds true, it’s about time to cancel the gym membership, start inhaling the Easter candy and add bikini shopping to my to-do list because I’m going to be one hell of a skinny bitch soon.

Today’s Installment of “Random Oliviaisms…”

Olivia, 4: “Hey Mom. I don’t thinks you know this, but I’m really the tooth fairy.”

Mommy: “For real?”

Olivia, 4: “Yeah. And I even have sparkly wings that I put on.”

Mommy: “Well then. Thanks for letting me off the hook and I hope you treat yourself well when start to lose your baby teeth.”

Olivia, 4: “What you say?” Mommy: “Oh nothing, Tooth Fairy.”

Mommy Mystery #849…

Why is it when I glance at the backseat of my car it always looks like a f#*king scene from the morning after a wild party at a frat house minus the drugs and with the substitution of empty apple juice sippy cups in place of the empty beer bottles?

Useless Parenting Questions 1 and 2…

To be followed up with useless parenting question #2… Why am I bothering to waste my breath, time and energy on asking you why you did this when it is a guaranteed fact you will do it once again three days from now and still have the same answer of “I don’t know, just because I felt like it” when asked to explain yourself?

Dieting Fail #2,368…

 You know your most recent attempt at dieting has gone to shit when the following conversation takes place in the baked goods aisle of your local supermarket…
Camryn, 6: “Wait! Stop! Mommy! You almost forgot to put a box of your most favorite cupcakes in the shopping cart!”
Mommy: “Good eye, Cam. Please grab a box or two and let’s all give those morsels of yummy goodness a nice warm welcome into our cart.”
Olivia, 4: “Oh yeah! Welcome cupcakes! Gets in my belly!”

Turbo Bitch…

Fasten your seatbelts. Secure all loose articles. And pray you survive.

Blame It On The Bunny…

The kids are finally asleep after a day of fun Easter festivities and I am left wondering if they took an inventory of the candy, specifically the peanut butter filled chocolate eggs, in their Easter baskets, whether or not they’d miss them if they were to be gone in the morning and if they will believe my story that the Easter Bunny loves peanut butter filled choholate eggs even more than carrots, so he decided to come back for a snack during the night…hmmm…what to do, what to do….it’s not all year you come across these delicacies….

Mommy’s Free Pass…

Here it is. I’ve finally found it…my free pass for those Mommie Dearest-esque moments I experience every once in awhile…okay, fine…maybe once a week…okay, okay…a minimum of three times per day, but whatever, w…ho’s counting? My kids still think I’m supermom regardless of how red in the face I get, how much I spit and how many words I stumble over while screaming at them. Unconditonal love at its finest. Can’t beat that.

Come Again Soon, Mr. Easter Bunny…

I am mourning the fact that at this time tomorow night I will no longer be able to use the “Easter Bunny will not bring you an Easter basket if you don’t eat your dinner, don’t clean your room, don’t wash your hands, don’t hang up your coat, don’t do your homework, don’t feed the cat, don’t flush the toilet, don’t take your vitamin, don’t brush your teeth, don’t go to bed, don’t put the caps on the markers, don’t throw away your empty Go-Gurt wrappers, don’t stop feeding the dogs your green vegetables and don’t put an end to quoting those super-annoying iCarly episodes…
Looks like it’s time to start planning the bribes for the next upcoming gift-earning holiday…

Crazy Cat Lady…

The other day, the kids asked if we could take our indoor only cat outside for a walk. So, a few days later, and without any hesitation at all, I took it upon myself to buy a cat harness and leash and we took her for a walk outside today. I… repeat, I bought the cat a harness and took her for a walk outside today. How did I get here and where’s the nearest emergency exit? Somebody stop me. I walk my cat on a leash. Therefore, without a doubt, I have reached crazy cat lady status. Somebody stop me…

Beware…

An abundance of unfiltered thoughts that swiftly move straight from the brain to the mouth resulting in offending, shocking, entertaining and/or outraging the general public…each and every day. Some call it obnoxious. I call it a skill.

Easter Cleaning…

Dear Easter and the guests you bring over,

Thanks for insuring my house gets clean at least once in the month of April.

Sincerely, Mommy

Hiding the Pasta…

“You say Matzoh, I say Pasta,” says the half Jewish/half Catholic/part Italian Girl…

Jewish Grandma: “So, Camryn, what’s your favorite part of Passover?”
Camryn, 6: “Well, my most favorite part of all is hiding the PASTA.”
Jewish Grandma: (appalled) “Um, I think you mean matzoh?”
Mommy: (makes mental note to self to swing by the library for a large stack of kid-friendly Passover books and incorporate an intensive Passover tutorial session into Camryn’s afternoon activities.)

Time Out…

Hmmmmm…3:30 on Tuesday? Nah, that won’t work. I’ll be tied up tackling your mountains of dirty laundry, scrubbing the caked on macaroni and cheese off of your lunchtime dishes and organizing the toys in your bedroom in an attempt to make the floor visible once again. Shall we shoot for the following week?

Reflecting…

“Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.” – Ferris Bueller

They come without warning…these moments of reflection. They wash over you and leave you viewing the world through a clearer, more refreshed lens. They arrive just as you teetering on the edge and reel you back in to become fully aware, once again, of what it’s really all about….

Procrastination…

It’s funny and rather disturbing how checking Facebook, playing fetch with the dog, and reading that useless Pennysaver that came in the mail from cover to cover become such a priority when such things as unloading the dishwasher, cooking dinner and bathing the children need to get completed…

The Theory vs. The Reality of Sibling Best Friends…


The theory (thru Mommy’s rose-colored glasses): “I can’t wait to have two daughters of my own. They’re going to be the best of friends always…”

The reality (thru the eyes of six-year-old, Camryn): “She’s annoying me again, Mommy! I want to play with you instead! Hey, I have an idea. How about we just trade Olivia in for another dog?”

School Vacation:The Good, The Bad, The Bickering…

School Vacation Agenda:

Main goal: to spend quality time with the little ones while engaged in and enjoying such activities as…

1. playground visits

2. playdates with friends

3. completing some arts and crafts projects

4. taking the dogs for walks

5. busting Daddy out of work for a few lunchedates

6. library stops for books and movies

7. attending a couple of plays

8. whatever else may tickle our fancy and keeps the kids smiling

And so here we are. We have finally arrived at school vacation, day #1 of 11. It is only 8:34 am and we are just getting our toes wet, yet we already have our first addendum to the agenda. All activities will drop down one spot in priority and number one shall now read as follows: 1. Stop by the nearest sports supplies store to purchase a referee shirt (in adult, size Large and preferably with pink stripes, if they carry it. )

That which does not kill me, makes me stronger…so, hopefully, this means I will survive the high-pitched squealing that is the girls arguing over whether or not the Littest Pet Shop chinchilla’s birthday is really today or tomorrow…I think I can, I think I can….

Pirates and Hookers…

The other day, six year old Camryn enjoyed some time playing pirates with her sister and cousins. One child wore the pirate hat, one wore the plastic pirate hook on their hand and all of them had foam swords. Then, th…ey were forced to take a break from their piratey ways when it was time to eat dinner. But as dinner came to an end, Camryn had the idea the kids should all play pirates again…
Camryn, 6: “Hey guys, let’s play pirates again. I’ll be the hooker!”
Daddy: (proceeds to choke on his hamburger)
Mommy: (shedding tears from laughing so freaking hard) Other family members: (speechless)
Cousins: “Ok!”

Winning…

Breakfasts fully consumed by all, teeth brushed, clothes picked out by Mommy approved and independently put on, heads of hair brushed, headbands to match their outfits selected and in place, shoes and socks on the feet, schoolbags packed with school library books which ensures avoiding another overdue fine, and lunches with bonus “I love you” notes from Mommy. And all with five minutes to spare before heading out the door. Who needs Mega Millions? I just won the Mommy lottery…a tantrum-less school morning prep session. Dare to dream, because sometimes, dreams really do come true.

Jubilation (ju·bi·la·tion):

That moment when your child declares, after consuming just four cookies from the package, that they no longer like those Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup Chips Ahoy cookies in the kitchen cabinet and you automatically begin planning out which flavor ice cream you will pair those heavenly little nuggets of peanut buttery goodness with once the kids are asleep for the night…

Pocketbook Trolls…

If I put as much time, energy and thought into creating world peace as I do cleaning out, organizing and re-organizing my pocketbook, I would, without a doubt, be able to add Nobel Peace Prize winner to my resume. I swear, if I ever get my hands on those tiny, evil pocketbook hating trolls that come out at night and trash mine…they’ll be sorry.

Mommy Law #217:

If you feel it necessary to bring along a handful of Littlest Pet Shop figurines, a sports bottle filled with water, a stuffed animal wombat, an Ariel the Mermaid bath toy, a Ziploc bag of goldfish crackers and a Barbie pock…etbook filled with plastic jewlery, a musical cell phone and a tube of bubble gum scented chapstick when we leave the house…I will feel it necessary to deny your requests for carrying assistance and make you carry each and every one of those items on each and every one of our stops. It’s totally your call, little one, but coming from a professional shopper with many years of practice, I highly suggest analyzing your “things I simply cannot leave the house without” list and deleting a few items to ensure a more pleasant and comfortable shopping experience. Again, totally your call. Just saying…

Operation Purge Baby Gear: The Final Wave…

The emotions come out of nowhere and sideswipe me as I am washing a dish left behind by one of the kids. All it takes is an innocent glance out of the kitchen window. I can’t help but stare at the baby carseat waiting at the curb for tomorrow’s garbage pickup. Wasn’t it just yesterday I spent countless hours pacing the aisles of Babies R’ Us obsessing over which seat was the best one for that precious baby kicking inside my belly?

The purple and gray Graco seat ended up being the winner and was just perfect. It met all the must haves on the new parent-to-be’s checklist. It had a good safety rating, was easy to figure out how to use with the adorable matching stroller I’d been eyeing since I first saw the little pink line on the pregnancy test and most importantly didn’t look like someone threw up flowers or hearts all over it. It had that “yeah, I’m a baby girl, but I mean business, so none of that coochie coochie coo nonsense for me, please” look to it. It was the one my baby was going to be carried around in, nap peacefully in, smile her first smile in, puke up entire bottles of formula in, and independently learn to propel herself out of at six months of age.

And yet now it sits, lonely, empty and abandoned on the curb. Perhaps it is the memories of when my daughters were babies and the fact that in one moment those memories seem like yesterday and in others they feel like so distant like memories from another lifetime. Maybe it’s the fact my daughters are growing up at a speed faster than I can wrap my head around and some days I wish for nothing more than a rewind or pause button. But whatever the reason may be, my eyes remain glued to that carseat. But, within a few minutes, the reality of the clock nearing midnight presses down upon me and I force myself to turn away.

I grab a paper towel, wipe my tears and take the trip upstairs to go to bed for the night, but not before paying a visit to kiss my daughters who will always be my babies..whether I can carry them around in  a carseat, my arms or in my heart.

Does Paper Have Calories?

Because, let’s be honest here, at some point, we’ve all sacrificed eating a small, or not so small, piece of the paper muffin cup to get that last chunk of the cupcake down the gullet…

The Reset Button…

All the Mommy tantrums, the headache-inducing yelling, miserably failed time-outs, mishandled embarrassing public tantrums, lost patience over bedtime bedroom exit #7, threats to give the cat away to a family who have ch…ildren who know it’s not okay to wedge a feline into a tiny Easter basket and carry her around the house like she’s a sack of potatoes, all the unhealthy instant mac and cheese dinners washed down by sugary, tooth-decaying chocolate milk and followed up with delicious, yet evil, Hostess chocolate cupcakes for dessert…G-O-N-E. Reset to Super Mom…all with the press of a button. If dreams really did come true.

Karma…Through the Eyes of a Six Year Old…

No Monday school morning is complete without you yelling at your kid and causing them to crumble into a ball of tears because school starts in five minutes and there is simply no more time left to continue conducting a rescue and recovery search for a bunny stuffed animal she hasn’t seen in over four months but desperately needs right now. And on the w…ay to school, as they dry their eyes and wipe the snot away from their faces is about when your Mommy yelling guilt begins to kick in. Then, they turn around and run back to you after saying goodbye at the school door to give you that one last extra hug… to make sure they have done everything in their power to make that Mommy yelling guilt sting like a goddamn bitch the entire time she is away at school. I’m feeling the burn…

Situations…

For all the situations, including the spilled cups of milk, the bright orange Cheetos handprints on the walls, the toilets clogged with Little People figurines, the furniture fingerpainted in diaper cream, the crib slathered in fresh poop, …the computer infected with various viruses, the entire bodies, including hair, glistening with scented hand lotion, the graffitied white PVC fence, and to all those situations we have yet to encounter…

Mommy Pet Peeves…

Mommy Pet Peeve #538: When you your kid completely ignores you when you ask them a question.

Mommy Pet Peeve #539: When your kid answers your question with a completely inappropriate answer because they didn’t even bother listening to the question.

Mommy: “Camryn, do you want chicken nuggets or macaroni and cheese for lunch today?”

Camryn, 6: “Yes.” Mommy: “And would you like it served with a side of dog poop?”

Camryn, 6: “Uh, yeah.”

Mommy: “You got it kiddo. Coming right up.”

Camryn: “Yep.”

 

Mommy: “You got it kiddo. Coming right up.” Camryn: “Yep.”

Fill In The Blank…

You know you are a parent when_____________________

…you finally crawl into your bed at the end of an exhausting, overwhelming day and you are greeted by a rainbow colored Slinky and a stuffed hedgehog stabbing you in the ass.

The Weekend Target Trip…

Because no weekend agenda is complete without a Target trip for those few things you truly need to re-stock in the house such as, milk, orange juice, toilet paper, toothpaste… cute tye-dyed peace sign t-shirts for the kids, a new toy for …the cat, a box of those delicious new cookies you just couldn’t leave on the shelf, that new lipstick that promises to stay on for twenty-four hours, a new bra just because you don’t own one in an adorable polka-dot pattern, that box of Easter themed cupcakes you swear not to eat until Easter, but will have devoured by the end of the weekend, a pack of gum, the new Barbie movie because it will hopefully keep the kids occupied and quiet for one hour and thirty seven minutes and finally, at the checkout line, a bottle of Diet Cherry Coke Zero to satisfy your body’s unhealthy addiction to caffeine…

Mommy’s Got Fur…

Four-year-old Olivia’s lastest obsession is her newly acquired knowledge of the fact that women grow hair under their armpits. What does this mean for me? It means enduring Olivia’s random spot checks of my armpits, with bonus condescending commentary, on her findings. This leaves me no choice but to step up my armpit hair grooming habits in order to avoid being ridiculed for being furry. A big thank you for making a woman feel that much more self-conscious about her appearance, little one…

Mommy Fairytale…

Once upon a time there was a Mommy who needed this fairytale to come true. That Mommy is me. That time is right now. Bottoms up…

Warning…

Dear playground bullies…

Consider yourself warned.

Yours truly, Mommy

Sibling (Brain) Rivalry…

*Camryn, 6:”Olivia, stop saying those mean things to me already or I’m not playing Go Fish with you anymore!”
*Olivia, 4: “Oh, um, sorry, Cam. It was actually my brains saying those things, not me.”
*Camryn, 6: “Oooooh, that happens to me all the time too and I’m like, Brain! Stop saying those things, will ya?!” (a few minutes pass)
*Olivia, 4: “Camryn, you’re cheating!”
*Camryn, 6: (staring down Olivia for being mean to her again)
*Olivia, 4: “Whoops, it was just my brains again.”
*Camryn, 6:”Oh, that’s ok.” (both girls laugh in unison as if they have heard the funniest joke ever and continue on with the Go Fish game)
*Mommy: (left speechless, trying to make sense of the insanity she just overheard, while thanking her lucky stars her refereeing services were not necessary for this round or silbling rivalry.)

Distracted Mom On Board…

Wanted: Personal assistant for car rides with my two kids. Must be able to juggle a minimum of 17,258 demands and requests begininng when the key enters the ignition. Please note, some of these tasks will necessitate you to contort your bod…y in various uncomfortable poses in order to retrieve a myriad of items, such as, but not limited to, droppped reading materials, micro-sized Squinkie toys, full bags of chips and beverages from under the car seats. Please have experience in dj’ing as you will also be required to load, play, replay, and switch out at least fifteen kiddie cd’s per every four miles driven. This is a fast paced position and not for the weak of heart. You must be willing to perform these duties efficiently and always with a smile. Payment will be in the form of any change you may find under the car seats during your shifts.

(Not So) Sick Day Sick Day #4 of 4…

That place of limbo where your child doesn’t have a fever anymore, their cough has started to fade and they are eating and drinking normally once again, yet you decide to keep them home in case they still need one last day of rest to ensure they are 100% healthy again…and then moments later give yourself a swift kick in the ass when you find them dancing and singing along to Lady Gaga’s “Born This Way” with the cat dangling from their arms…at only 9:02 AM. In preparation of tomorrow’s school departure, the backpack was packed, clothes laid out and lunch money on the kitchen counter all before the clock even hit 12:00 pm today.