Girls Gone Wild: The Toddler Edition

May 5th, 2013 by j

It’s been a while. A busy life with kids has gotten in the way of my blog about a busy life with kids! How ironic. There is lots to catch up on! It was a busy summer with the kids and now a busy fall and winter too! Muffin started Kindergarten! I thought I’d have more time on my hands when he started Kindergarten as he’d be in 5 days a week…boy was I wrong. Partially because, despite repeated warnings from friends, I volunteered to be Room Parent (cue scary doomsday music). More on that later. Here is my little guy on his first day of school. The only tears shed that day were from Mommy.

On his first full day, Princess Pea (formerly known as Madam Poopsalot) kept asking all day where her brother was. When I came to pick him up after his first full day, Princess Pea could hardly contain her excitement and ran straight to him with the biggest smile and gave him the longest, hardest hug I have ever seen her give. This is particularly shocking (and cute) considering that she’s constantly rebuffing his hugs and cuddles.

I’ve digressed! There is just so much to tell over the past several months! What does all this have to do with Girls Gone Wild, you ask?! Absolutely nothing. So let’s get to it.

Princess Pea is now three. Just prior to her birthday, she was on target for her receptive language but was about a year behind on her expressive language. I’ve taken her to several specialists and there seems to be no other issues except for the fact she isn’t speaking much or annunciating very well. Now, to say she doesn’t speak sure doesn’t mean that she is a bad communicator! Girl can C-O-M-M-U-N-I-C-A-T-E! She has a few key words…like “NO!”. She uses that one liberally and with force. She can also throw a wicked tantrum. My son never really did the tantrum thing. Princess Pea, on the other hand does it with drama and flair. Fortunately tantrums are not super frequent but when they do occur, watch out! Usually I attempt the lovingbighugitout solution. This usually just results in her going ‘boneless’ and dropping to the floor, where she’ll start flailing about like an epileptic fish. So, don’t try that ‘solution’ unless you enjoy getting kicked in the face by a rogue foot. I do not.

However, these crazy wild dramatic tantrums aren’t what concerns my husband. Oh no! It’s the things like pulling her skirt up over her head (why do little girls do that?!?!). The desire to go shirtless (if big brother is doing it why can’t I?). And it’s her attempts to ‘help’ us apply her after-bath lotion…directly to her privates! Granted that last one comes from her thinking it’s just like diaper rash cream. Dr. McCutiePants is convinced she’s destined to be the star of Girls Gone Wild and poor Daddy is sweating bullets.

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The Illusion of the SuperMom

May 4th, 2013 by j

It seems that life as a busy mom has gotten in the way of my blog about life as a mom! It’s just been a busy few months year and a half! with the family. Both kids are out of diapers now and so I’m coming out of the fetal position blogging retirement to discuss the myth of the SuperMom who does it all! I have to admit I hate yet envy, despise yet admire, am super annoyed by yet aspire to be like (and fail to be)…the SuperMom. You know the one…the good-looking, hip mother of two or more kids who is always dressed nicely with perfect hair and her kids are all adorable, cooperative, and never messy. Oh, and she’s DOING IT ALL BY HERSELF! Effortlessly. She has a great career, great social life, is keeping up with all the kids education and enrichment, is keeping all the various kiddie parts wiped, and has passionate sex with her husband more than once every two weeks. She lives in a big house that is always spotless – no toy clutter or breakfast crumbs to be seen anywhere. She has white designer furniture with no kid-stains (okay so I have white furniture with hardly any kid stains but it’s only because I YELL at them (in my supermom voice) to stay out of the parlor. Oh, and she has a super-clean state-of-the-art kitchen where every day she whips up perfectly balanced gourmet meals that the entire family eats every last bite of without one peep of a complaint.

Well, you know what?! Don’t believe it! It’s not real. This woman exists only on TV and in movies…on blogs and on Facebook. Especially on Facebook. Oh, don’t even get me started on Facebook! Carefully staged photos and well-crafted stories give the illusion that regular moms are living out their days in a dreamy haze of crafts, educational enrichment, organic cooking, and perfect children. These are just highlight reels. The edited version. The woman in the real world is not in fact doing it all perfectly and effortlessly. Or, if she is, I can GUARANTEE you that there are other actors behind the scenes: grandparents, nanny, babysitters, etc.. It’s a total crock of crap. A farce.

So please, moms (and dads) don’t use her as a yardstick to measure your own success. And remember, the ones who’s opinions really matter are the kids…to them, family is not a competition where the shiniest mom with the best party favors wins.

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Dad Tip: The Worst Job in the World

September 30th, 2011 by DrMcCutiePants

It’s not what you think – even if I did consider parenting to be the worst job in the world (I don’t), I would never be so stupid as to admit so in a public forum.

But I have been job hunting recently. Muffin knows that, and keeps suggesting I get a new job so I can buy him a big house with a big yard – pressure much? Anyways, the other day, quite out of the blue as we approach Von’s in the car he gives me the following helpful offer:

I’m going to give you a job.

It’s the worst job in the world.

For once I have the sense to keep my mouth shut and not dig deeper. Which naturally I now regret, because I have to admit that I’m more than a little curious as to what the worst job in the world might actually be…

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In Loving Memory of My Grip On Sanity.

August 3rd, 2011 by j

This morning Muffin was decidedly not absolutely delightful.

Every step of our morning was a battle. I was already feeling weary by 8:30am, when we got in the car to go to baseball camp, where I was absolutely delighted to unload him.

Things were better after I turned on the car radio to drown out his whining. He starts bopping and singing and I start smiling, giving myself kudos on how I brilliantly redirected his annoying behavior. Then it happens.

Out of nowhere, my cute little cherub bleats out “DAMN”! Then before I can get my wits about me, he does it again! “DAMN!”

Really? Did he just say that? Twice!

“Where did you hear that word?”, I asked. “I don’t know. Damn!”, my 4 year old songbird bleated again.

At this point I explained to him that “Damn” isn’t a nice word for a 4 year old to be saying and that he should say darn instead.

“But that’s not what the song says, Mommy. La la la, DAMN!”, he sings happily.

“No, way Mister. This song certainly does not use that word.”, I state (with conviction).

“La La La, DAMN!”

Stop doing that!”, I growl.

The song ends and he switches from profanity back to whining, continuing the theme of the morning. As I drop him off at camp, I give him a lecture on turning his attitude around, which I am sure is falling on deaf ears.

As I’m leaving camp, the same song comes on the radio. Sure enough there are several “damns” in the damn song.

Oops.

When I come back to pick him up I see that he’s delightful with his coaches and fellow campers. Oh good! His mood must be better now, I think.

Really, Rookie?!

Really?

Have you learned nothing in 4 years?

As soon as I get him away from the field he’s once again reverted to whiney (I think it’s reserved for mommy – I feel special). As I’m trying to get Muffin and his little sister into the car, he’s being extremely uncooperative. “Please get into the car.”, “No, don’t climb through your sister’s side.”, “Please sit in your car seat.”, “No, don’t reach into the middle console – there is no candy.”, “No, you may not have candy.”, “Please get in your car seat, NOW.”, “Get in your car seat!”, “IN YOUR CAR SEAT! NOW!”

So then he replies, “I’m too busy!”

What?!?!

“No, Mommy. I’m too BUSY turning my attitude around.”

Evidently.

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My Son, The Fashion Guru

July 29th, 2011 by j

If this isn’t a clear illustration of fashion genius, I don’t know what is.

Typically I choose the daily dress for my little Muffin Man, but clearly I should be letting his inner fashionista shine through. For this delightful ensemble, he whipped off his pants, turned his shirt backwards, put on mommy’s boots and…wham! Fashion brilliance.

Recently Muffin has started to become particular with what he wears. For a long time, I used to be able to dress him in whatever I wanted and he wouldn’t say a peep. Except for that one time when he was a toddler and I tried to put a jean jacket on him and he shrieked, “No pants! No pants on my arms!!!!”

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The Diaper Genie: An exercise in Over-Promise & Under-Deliver

July 19th, 2011 by j

ge·nie (jee-nee)
noun

1. A servant who appears by magic and fulfils a person’s wishes.

Diaper Genie. The name is somewhat misleading, is it not? No Genie pops out of it and miraculously saves you from changing that 4th poopie diaper of the hour. Nor does a Genie pop out and enchant your screaming-red-in-the-face baby into a quietly-cooing-smiling-absolutelydelightful cherub. No. What you do have is a huge pile of crap sitting in the corner of the room. A giant feces sausage waiting to be emptied every week. So, in addition to being the Laundry Fairy, I guess I’ve also become the Diaper Genie. Joy.

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It’s Official. I’m Faster Than a Snail.

July 4th, 2011 by j

When I was in highschool, though I was fit, I could hardly run two (slow) laps around the field without getting chest pains and keeling over. I have always wanted to be a runner but never took steps to attain the goal beyond verbally stating it. When I was in my late 20′s I set the bold goal (bold for non-runner me) of running a marathon by the time I was 30.

Then I realized how far a marathon was.

And how close 30 years old was.

Well, now at over30yearsold, I have been inspired by my friend who is running her half off, training for a half marathon. And doing awesome, I might add! So, now I’m training for a half marathon myself! I’m not sure I’m actually going to do the half marathon, but I want to train for it and know that I can run one.

Yesterday a 5 miler was on the training schedule. And not only did I complete it – I felt great doing it! It’s the fathest I’ve ever run before. Huge hills. I went 5.09 mi (yes, I do want accolades for the .09 mi extra) and did it in 51:25 minutes with an average pace of 10’06″! This was the end of my second week of training! I know some of you may be thinking 5 miles is nothing and a pace of 10′ is lame, however I am so proud of myself because I started out two weeks ago at an average pace of about 12′ per mile and that was for a 2 mile run with only one average hill. I don’t have a running partner but my Nike GPS app is my running partner and it’s awesome. It records all my stats so I can track myself and compete against myself. In order to keep to my training schedule, I have even gone out running occasionally with Madam Poopsalot (who is now 20 lbs) in the single Bumbleride stroller. I have always seen myself as a slow runner person who sometimes runs. Now I am becoming a runner and I’m proud of myself!

And this brings us to the title of this post…

About midway into my run, I passed a snail. About 3 miles later I passed the same snail. Mr. Snail had only gone about 1/2 a foot in his journey, while I had run 3 miles during that time. So, it’s official, I am now faster than a snail. Wooohooo!

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To Infinity and Beyond Takes On New Meaning.

June 6th, 2011 by j

I haven’t written in a long time. It seems that a busy life with kids got in the way of my blog about busy life with kids!

What could bring me out of this blogging sabbatical? Unfortunate straw placement, of course.

Note the straw placement. Note the look on Buzz Lightyear’s face. Note where one would put their mouth to actually use the cup. Obviously there was someone in the design department at Disney who had to approve this design. Obviously that someone no longer works for Disney.

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A Little Less Donk in my Badonkadonk.

August 13th, 2010 by j

I’d love to have Kelly Ripa’s slim hips and torso. She’s had three (three!) children, is in her 40′s, and she looks amazing! Well, aside from her penis-button. What is up with that belly-button anyways?! Is an alien trying to escape from her belly? I digress – it’s just that the penis-button is so disturbingly distracting.

Anyways, I recently read that she is a regular at the classes at the Physique 57 studio in NYC. I suppose that NYC is a tad out of my fitness radius, but Physique 57 does have a workout video and guess who is now the proud owner of it?! Oh, yeah! Goodbye Butt by Nutella!

The goal of the Physique 57 workout is to really fatigue the muscles by working them with small isometric moves and then stretch them out. The way the muscles are worked and then stretched is supposed to give you long lean muscles, like that of a ballerina. All you need is a high-back chair, light weights, and a playground ball. The video moves quickly with very little downtime in explanation, which I like. The burn is pretty intense.

Even Muffin likes the videos. Here we are doing the Arms & Ab Booster.

Unfortunately, Muffin’s interest lasted about 60 seconds and then he was climbing all over me, making completion of the video impossible.

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The Mother(s) of Invention

August 11th, 2010 by j

A friend recently confided in me that she was once caught without napkins or wipes during a particularly horrific toddler-made juice spill in her car and the only thing she had on her were super absorbent tampons. So she used them to soak up the juice off of the leather seats in her car! That’s just brilliant!

This reminded me of a story I recently read about a woman who survived a MASSIVE poop blowout (of the 10 month baby variety) 30 mins into a 5 hour flight. She had no change of clothes for the baby and no extra diaper! All she had were a few wipes in her diaper bag. She ended up using an air-sickness bag to store the poop-filled pants and fashioned a diaper out of three expertly tied napkins from the first class cabin. She found two sanitary napkins in the lavatory and lined the inside of the make-shift diaper with one and then used the other sanitary napkin to “duct tape” the “diaper” closed. Amazingly, the diaper stayed on and dry until landing…that is until her baby then peed through it and all over her. But she was in the home-stretch.

Tampons for juice spills. Menstural pads for make-shift diapers. Barf-bags for poopy clothes. These are the essential tools in child-rearing. Who knew?! It is an accepted idiom that necessity is the mother of invention, but I’m of the opinion that mothers are the mother of invention.

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