Archive for April, 2010

About a week and a half ago, Perry decided it was time to start standing independently. Yes, a week shy of 8 months and the little future mastermind is standing on her own for a few seconds at a time. The Mommy in me kicks into gear and I decide to try to get a picture of it. I totally wanted to show off my kid and her crazy ambition.

I tried from both couches, the desk chair and standing. No such luck, the camera was just too slow. I am not so easily thwarted by inferior technology. I waited and my patience was rewarded. Or so I thought.

Perry crawled off into Kieran’s room while the other two were occupied with their own mayhem in Amanda’s room. I went after her and hit the floor just out of sight.

This is the picture I got as her tushie landed. Though I didn’t realize it right then, the flash was a rookie mistake. But then again so was getting on the floor.

Amanda and Kieran must have noticed something was afoot because the came out to investigate. I held my breathe as they walked past me a few times. I knew then and there what a precarious situation I was in.

I don’t know about any other kids but mine can smell fear. At any moment they could smell it on me and turn. They’ve done it before at different times. I knew this could be one of those times.

I relaxed as they walked back and forth between the bedrooms. A little too relaxed. It must have been the lack of oxygen while I was holding my breathe because I thought it would be a good idea to start taking pictures again.

Suddenly the camera gave me a hard time and I couldn’t get a shot off until

Amanda jumped from behind the corner and screamed and I screamed and the camera went off and I knew I was in for a shit storm. I was pinned between the wall and the door jamb when they swarmed. I did the only thing I could. Brace myself and keep snapping pictures. This is how it went down………………….

The ambush was successful
Kieran ran from the living room armed
You really stepped in it this time Mom

I’m surprised I actually got a decent picture

I was laughing too hard to even realize I had pushed the button
I don’t know where she pulled this move from
Quick conference so I can breathe and they can plot.
Just you wait, mommy

Are you okay ?
She’s good. GO GO GO!!!!
Please don’t let farting be apart of the plan. Kieran has wicked sewer butt.
Amanda trying to blow raspberries on my belly
Kieran trying to give me a kiss and me using the camera as a defense
Bad defense. Kieran was successful

 Actually Kieran not only made contact, he actually licked the side of my face and across my mouth while Amanda blew raspberries on whatever she could make contact with and Perry had a hold of my foot.

I lost it. Literally. I couldn’t breathe I was laughing so hard and I pissed myself. I didn’t just let a little tinkle out. I full blown lost control of my bladder. I was defeated.

I had to call for help. I yelled out no less than three times before I had to add that I was serious and Tom peeled my captors off of me. And yes he noticed my pants.

I changed, came back and put the kids to bed without any trouble from at all.

I’m beginning to think they set me up.


The Tactless Wonder, a One Woman Show

Posted: Monday, April 19, 2010 in Uncategorized

Married life is tough. You either need tact or be really good at lying. I have neither skill. Ask any one who knows me. I have not only stuck my foot in my mouth on several occasions but I have shoved down my throat far enough to pull it back out my ass and stand on it again.

Tonight was one of those nights.

Tom decided that he was going to make “his” meatloaf. As opposed to “my meatloaf that I never make the same way twice.I was totally okay with this. Tom is a pretty fair cook and I always apperciate a break from any mundane chore.

Tom lovingly made his meatloaf while I was sleeping. I woke up shortly after he put it in the oven. I never even bothered to check his work. He’s a big boy and I’m not his mommy.

The meatloaf dinged and this is what I pulled out of the oven.

I KNOW, RIGHT! You don’t even need to tell me, I was there.

I already knew I wasn’t going to eat it. I had it all planned out. I got everyone’s plates ready and was going to tell Tom that I wasn’t hungry if he asked any questions. It was a good solid plan.

Tom helped me get dinner to the table ( very rare) and started to count plates. He asked where mine was and wasn’t I going to to eat it and I choked, almost literally. I panicked.bells and whistles and alarms went off in my head as I stammered. My answer was not quite what I had planned. It was more along the line of ” It’s scary”. Actually that’s exactly what I said.

Foot, Mouth, no need to formally introduce you two, we’ve been here before.

Not only did I say that but I proceeded to defend my position even further degrading my sweet husband. I’m a fantastic wife, aren’t I!!!! I just kept ramming my foot further down my throat until I was at least up to my knee.

I know it’s been a while so, Knee meet Mouth, Mouth this is Knee.

At this point the semi-smart person would SHUT THE HELL UP! A smart person would have never said a word in the first place. I’m apparently neither. No I’m definitely not.

Case in point. I proceeded with my little defense case to the point of telling my now seething and wounded beloved that salt and pepper and ground beef does NOT make a meatloaf. It’s a hamburger in loaf form.

And there it is folks! I just shat my foot out of my ass and am parading around like I’m Miss Fraking America! I wonder if the circus will take me in because this is truly a sight to see.

Thankfully, my last remaining braincell took over and I finally put a sock in it.

To make matters worse, I had posted a status update pertaining to Tom’s hard work.

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It wasn’t nice. I should not have said that AT ALL.

To make matters worse, I checked facebook after dinner ( because I’m a bit obsessive) and my very good friend Amy had posted this just for me.

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It was perfect! I didn’t even have to play the clip. I laughed so hard I almost peed myself. I was laughing right up until I felt Tom walk up behind me  and read over my shoulder.


I think he knew what scene it was too.

My only brain cell was still in control and walked me into another room.

The next hour or so was filled with a boat load of awkwardness. Lots of it. I was never so relieved to see Tom leave for work even if I didn’t get my usual kiss good bye.

For the record I did apologize at one point and it was promptly and summarily dismissed. I earned that. I also told Tom that I expected him to be honest with me about my cooking. I’m sure he’ll use that one early and often. I earned that too.

I’m an ass, plain and simply. If anyone knows of a good doctor that can put my foot back where it belongs let me know. They can sew my mouth shut while they’re at it so I can’t do it again and lose weight at the same time. If not some one find me an agent because I’m sure I could make money off this freak show.

Amanda is potty trained. It took a long time to get there. She had a hard time with the whole poop in the potty thing. For months she would flat out refuse, scream and cry  and then have tummy troubles. Eventually she got over it. Sort of.

About once every two weeks we go through the whole ” I have a boo boo in my belly but I won’t go potty” deal. Tonight was shaping up to be one of those nights. While I was busy being the human jungle gym, I noticed a smell that could only come from Amanda’s tush. I naturally ask if she had to go potty to which the answer was a hesitant no. We’ve been down this road a few times already so I know better. I sent her off to the bathroom anyway.

After a few minutes I went to make sure she wasn’t washing her hands in the potty again. I found my poor baby sitting quietly near tears. I hunkered down on the side of the tub and got ready to talk her through another round on the potty.

Amanda- I got boo boo

Me- It won’t hurt if you let the poopy out every day.

Amanda- It go home?

Me- Huh?

Amanda- Poopy go home?

Me- Uhhh… Yeah, Sure! ….Where?

Amanda– In da potty. ( duh mom)

 The child just handed me a ball and my mom brain is screaming at the rest of me to run like Hell with it.

Me- That’s right, baby. You’ve got to let the poopy go home in the potty every day.

Amanda- It go home and see it mommy. It mommy in da potty.

At this point I’m speechless and so is she. I’m in shock and she’s taking care of business. When she’s finished, she jumps up with a big yay, waves bye to her deposit and flushes it home to it’s mommy.

I know this may seem like a silly or even gross thing to talk about but it was big to me. Less than a year ago this would not have been possible. Less than a year ago Amanda barely talked. She had less than 30 words at 2 and a half and didn’t talk in sentences.

Because of this she has been in a special education preschool class since her 3rd birthday. Special education means that I have to have a meeting with her teacher to discuss her IEP (Individualized Education Program) for the next year. I had that meeting with Amanda’s teacher the other day and heard some pretty amazing words from her.

 Try to get Amanda into Headstart next year because this stuff is way to easy for her now.
Mommy guilt was magically lifted and a huge sigh of relief went through me. My little girl is gonna be okay in the smarts department. Not only can she carry an imaginative conversation but she can poop in the potty. At the same time!

I have a morning ritual. I get up, leave the kids in bed ( awake or not) and have a cup of coffee in silence. sometimes I drink it in my living room at the computer, sometimes I drink it outside enjoying the quiet. This is what my mom called The Cone of Silence. I’m not sure where she got the name but it seems to fit. If this ritual is not completed properly, my day is shot.

The cone of silence was broken today. It was shattered by a pre-coffee question. It was a simple enough, ” What’s on the agenda today?”. However, I was only pouring my first cup of coffee so the answer came out kind of, well, bitchy. I didn’t even realize just how nasty I sounded until I heard the front door shut. Apparently I hurt Toms feelings.

In my defense, he should heve known better. we’ve been together for 5 years and I have never, NEVER answered a pre-coffee question in anything more than a  growl. He’s lucky he got words.

I went out on the back porch and proceeded with my morning. I was contemplating my unintentional rudeness when Tom stalked past me to check the dryer in the shed. (Yes, my dryer is in my shed. Outside. That’s what happens when you have a landlord who’s ears are bigger than his brains.) I apologized and reminded him that no matter how nice I want to sound, it’s going to come out like I’m posessed. I’m not going to let his forgetfulness ruin my day.

All was forgiven all the way around and I finished my coffee in blissful silence. That silence allowed me to not freak out when

  • Tom turned on The Chipmonks before breakfast
  • passed off dirty diaper duty to me even though he smelled it first
  • gave the kids chocolate chip cookies for breakfast
  • Kieran stuffed 2 of those cookies in his mouth at the same time
  • Amanda freaked out over not having shoes to put on
  • Amanda demanded grape juice instead of strawberry banana
  • Amanda and Kieran turned into zombies in front of the tv
  • Perry sympathy whining all along the way. 

Those 15 tiny minutes let me enjoy the little things like

  • Tom and Amanda having cuddle time on the couch
  • Tom taking care of breakfast so I can screw around on Facebook
  • Kieran playing nicely with Perry
  • Finding a new way to play hide and seek with Tom as my partner in hiding *wink wink*
  • Kieran NOT freaking out when he couoldn’t have something
  • Perrys dimples
  • Amanda wearing Toms work boots
  • being able to go potty with out listening to kids scream and or get in trouble

Despite Toms faux pas, today is shaping up to be a pretty good day and I’ve had enough coffee to enjoy it.

A Little Slice of Heaven

Posted: Tuesday, April 6, 2010 in Uncategorized

Today I achieved Mommy Bliss. No, I didn’t get Potty Nirvana. Nor did I get Blessed Couple Time. Or even Private Time.  I got one of the most elusive prizes in all of Mommydom……….

I went grocery shopping alone.

I don’t know how I got Tom to agree. It must have been my mad skillz in bed because he just said “Okay”. No begging and pleading, wheeling and dealing, just okay. He agreed a week in advance and didn’t go back on it.

I’m still in shock.  
I can’t even begin to describe how wonderful it was to not have to buckle and unbuckle three wriggly bodies. No reminding jam hands to hold together and not to run in the parking lot. The lack of whine about which jumbo cart ( truck, green seat or gray seat) was astounding.   

I even parked the rolling living room in the furthest spot from the store just so I could enjoy the walk. It was such a beautiful day I figured, why not? And I didn’t just walk, I sashayed. I strutted the stuff I no longer have like I still had it.

It was just delicious.

I had my list mostly made out but I didn’t really need it. Why, you ask? Because I remembered almost everything on my list and then some.

Amazing, isn’t it?

That’s right folks. When left alone, I can form an actual coherent thought. Not just a thought, but a thought process. I wasn’t interrupted on a 15 second basis to entertain, decipher, buckle back in, feed or kiss an imaginary boo boo. It was like some one smacked me upside the head and said ” MOMMY BRAIN, BE GONE!”. 
Total in store time – 1 hour and 15 minutes.
Try doing that with three kids under 4. I dare you.

I was so thrilled to be done that fast I didn’t even complain to the manager when the cashier jammed a months worth of meat into one bag. I should have though. If I wanted that, I would have saved myself the extra 20 minute drive and gone to Walmart.

I got home and the house was clean ( normal for Tom to do) and the kids were just finishing dinner. No one was crabby from being forced to sit for a 40 minute car ride then 2-3 hours in a cart and then a 40 minute ride home. No one was hungry or tired or carsick.

Did I mention it was pure bliss.
I’m gonna have to figure out how it happened so I can do it again next month.

Taking The Stage…………..Sort Of.

Posted: Friday, April 2, 2010 in Uncategorized

Sorry Mama Kat, I just couldn’t do it. I read the prompts and the only one to jump out at me was the singing. There’s just one little catch. Okay, two.
1- I have no video camera or even a cell with the capabilities.
2- I can’t sing. Seriously.
You know those people who say they can’t sing and then they open there mouths at karaoke and they’re passable. Not the situation here. Not even close.
I had know idea just how much I sucked for a long time. I can recall countless occasions that my mother endured my “performances”. I never noticed her cringe the trooper that she was. I also never noticed how she would try to keep me talking in the car. She ever resorted to sword fights in the car. Not once did she ever tell me the truth. She just smiled and nodded, encouraging me. Little did I know, her ears were dangerously close to bleeding. I love that woman.

I found out about my problem on my own, eventually. I discovered a tape that my cousin and I had made for New Kids On The Block when we were about 9 years old. We used two boom boxes on my grandparents front porch. You could hear my brother making fun of us in the background. At the time I thought he was just being a douchey big brother. Now I know better. He was right. I sounded like this

 see more Lolcats and funny pictures
I was mortified. I had joined chorus my senior year in high school. I made a complete fool of myself again. I got over it. I love to sing. It’s a way to express emotions that you can’t put into words. It makes me happy to sing.

I put on concerts for my kids on a regular basis, complete with air guitar and knee slides. I them my all. I behave as though my kitchen is a real stage and there are a thousand fans out there. My greatest hits are played to the hilt. Come On Eileen, Her Diamonds, Empire State of Mind, ska, rock, hip hop, pop, 80’s and 90’s. It’s all magic to me. The smiles and giggles and getting dizzy spinning around. I leave it all on the stage and we collapse in a pile to catch our collective breathe.

The next day, when I’m singing along to the music channel, Amanda tells me to stop, loudly and repeatedly. Apparently I suck again. I won’t stop though. I love to sing, it makes me happy. And happiness is what survival should be about.

Mama's Losin' It