Category Archives: Parenthood

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You are looking at the greatest joy in my life right now.

My husband holding our daughter.
The way she smiles at him. The way she grabs his neck and pulls herself close to him. The way she giggles when he looks at her. The way she just loves him and the way he loves her right back times 1000.
There are no words to describe the happiness and fufillment I feel when I watch them together.
We’ll see how true that is when she’s 15 and I tell her “No!” and she’s all “DADDY SAID I COULD… SO SCREW YOU!”
But until that fine day, I will enjoy watching the two of them together, her totally owning him and him loving every minute of it.

Consider yourself “told”

nasalbulb.jpg plus.jpg sitting6.jpg equals.jpgSCREAMING.jpg
If I could have one wish at this very moment, I would not wish for a million dollars. I would not wish that my stomach suddenly stop looking like this. I would not wish that I had the ability to turn myself into a fly (on the wall).
I would wish that my daughter could BLOW HER OWN NOSE.
I can think of 4089984 things I’d rather do than have to stick that evil, yet necessary, contraption up her nose one more time.
Things like “get stung by a hundred bees in the eye” or “give birth to 4 babies at once” or “watch The View” or “do my laundry” or “listen to ANOTHER SONG by 50 cent”
It sucks THAT much. It is THAT horrible.
They don’t tell you about these things when you are pregnant.
Well, THEY SHOULD. (Whoever “they” are)
But since “they” don’t? I’ll tell you.
“Having to use the nasal bulb sucks and it makes your baby cry and it makes YOU cry because your baby is crying and kicking and screaming and you feel like the worst mother in the world for subjecting your totally helpless child to such torture, but you have NO CHOICE because if you don’t do it, your child can NOT BREATHE.”
[/nose bulb hatin’ tantrum]

To answer the question…

So, how’s that “I’m going to quit my job and be the BEST stay at home mom I can be!” working out for ya?



THAT’S HOW, beyotches.
What about all that sewing you were talking about? You know, how you were going to sew curtains for the living room and hem up your kids pants and make covers for your kitchen chairs… How’s THAT coming along?

How does it LOOK like it’s coming along? But watch out, once I figure out how to thread that bitch up, it’s ON.

You do the math.

Celebrating by jumping up and down in the middle of the basketball court after your son wins his second playoff game in one day + 42 E cup boobs + a nursing bra that snaps open in the front =
a) Whomp! There it is!
b) Humiliation.
c) Like, WOAH.
d) The most embarassing moment of my life.
e) Tittysmack to the face.
f) For the love of God, cover the children’s eyes!
g) ALL OF THE ABOVE.

Respect…the ‘tracked!

Yesterday Ethan overheard a PRIVATE conversation I was having with Gabby in which I lovingly told her she was being a stinky turd…
…Face. OK! I called her a stinky turd FACE!
Ethan didn’t like that. At all.
“How DARE you call my sister a stinky turd face! THAT’S THE WORST THING YOU COULD EVER SAY TO HER!!”
(I’ll admit I probably went to far by adding “face” at the end, but I’ve never claimed to be a “perfect” mother.)
“If you weren’t my mom, I’d punch you SO HARD RIGHT NOW!”
He walked out of the room and came back with 2 pieces of paper. He informed me he’d written out a contract and I had to sign it if I wanted him to stop being pissed.

Behold “The Contracked”.
After much laughter and many important questions, such as “well, what am I supposed to call her when she’s acting like a turdface?” I signed the “contracked”. I am no longer ALOUD to call Gabby a “tirdface”. Apparently, I’m also not ALOUD to call her “poopface” “crapface” or “freek” (None of which I’ve ever called her, but all of which Ethan felt necessary to include… JUST INCASE.)
Lucky for me, I’m totally ALOUD to call her “brat” “tinkybutt” “tinkerbutt” and “spoiled”. (Although, I’m NOT ALOUD to call her spoiled and brat at the same time.)
Dude. I got served contracked.

Green swirlies!!

If you’ve been reading this blog for a while, you KNOW I have some wicked artistic skills.
(example #1)
(example #2)
(example #3)
(example #4)
(example #5)
I think you get the idea.
Apparently, my oldest child has inherited my gift. I just discovered one of his masterpieces whilst going through some papers he brought home from school yesterday. It’s a compelling, socially conscience piece of art that we can ALL learn a little something from.

This Kid Brian Hasn’t Brushed His Teeth In a Week, But His Friend Jacob Brushes His Teeth Everyday*
 


(Click to enlarge)
The kid that passed out because of “Brian’s bad breath” makes this quite possibly the greatest piece of art I have ever seen.
*actual title

I can only hope it’s just “a phase”

I’ve recieved several concerned emails over the past few days, the emails basically contain the following questions.
“Hi, Y. Where are you? Why haven’t you been updating your blog?”
Well, because…

Basically, my daughter has decided to cease taking naps during the day. She’ll fall asleep when I nurse her, but as soon as I lay her down and walk out of the room? That happens. And what does “that” have to do with me not blogging? Well, the only time I feel ok with sitting at this computer is when she’s sleeping. Because they’re only little once and I refuse to sit in front of this stupid thing while that beautiful little girl is awake and we could be having fun together.
HOWEVER. I look forward to her nap time, so I can check my email (only after I scrub the house clean, of course!), read blogs, pay bills (No! SERIOUSLY! I’m in LOVE with online banking) etc. But she’s just decided she’s SO over naps.
“Close your eyes and go back to sleep!” I say to her.
“Are you talkin to me?” She says.

“I KNOW YOU AINT TALKIN’ TO ME! You’re trippin, woman. I LAUGH at naps!”
Then I cry a little, pick her up, dry my tears and proceed to “our spot” on the living room floor where we giggle and pass gas together.
So, there you have it. “The Reason.”

I can’t see straight

Do you enjoy getting a good nights sleep?
Yes?
Is your idea of a “good time” being woken up in the middle of the night by things like crying, puking, thumping on the walls?
Yes?
Do you enjoy being startled by a frantic child screaming “I just had a really bad dream that I was a pop star and everytime I was alone a spiderman toy would pop out of the closet and kick me in the head and I’d try to kick it back, but nothing would happen and I’M SCARRRRRRED TO DEAAAAAAAAATH”?
Well… do you?!
If so, then may I suggest you have kids! And not just One kid. Not just two kids! Have THREE KIDS!
But if you’re like most people and you enjoy sleeping at night?
Don’t have kids.
Ok, maybe have ONE kid, but definitely don’t have THREE KIDS.