So...it's sort of been awhile since I last wrote. Instead of boring you all with the nitty gritty details of the last several months, I thought I would just sum it all up with a homemade tune. This is based on the "My Favorite Things" song sung by Julie Andrews from the Sound of Music.
Raindrops on noses and tormenting kittens,
Bright sunny days and some sunblock that glistens.
Brown soggy diapers that leak and then cling,
These are a few of my favorite things.
Cream colored faces with dirt by the oodles,
Door slams and s'more grahams and crayons for doodles.
Wild child that screams with the G-force of their swing,
These are a few of my favorite things.
Girls in play dresses and gnarly head bashes,
Mud streaks that smear on my nose and bug rashes.
Big sticky donuts they squish and then fling,
These are a few of my favorite things.
When the kids bite, when they throw things,
When I'm feeling mad,
I simply envision myself on a beach
and then I don't feel so bad.
Saturday, July 9, 2011
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
The neighbors must think I've lost it?
Series of events within the last week regarding my neighbors:
Oh, and please take note that I do not know these people very well...
1. First neighbor delivers a slip n' slide to my front door. Totally free of charge. Says that he saw me spraying down the kids with the hose in the front yard and wasn't sure if it was a stress reliever or just for fun. I began to wonder if it appeared to him that I was spraying them a little more violently then what I had intended? I mean, sure, it felt good to sneak up on them, hose in hand, and spray the crap out of them. But it couldn't have been that bad...right?
2. Same neighbor, two days later, says he and his wife are having a yard sale. His wife suggested that he come over and offer me first dibs on all the toys because we look like we could use some extra help with child entertainment. With a look of confusion I told him that I was appreciative, but kindly declined. Thoughts began to swim through my head. What on Earth did they think was happening over here?
3. Another very sweet neighbor, further down the street, greeted me first thing in the morning while I was opening the garage door. Up comes the door and BAM! There she is, standing there holding a large box. She holds it out to me and says it looks like I could use this more than she could. It is a brand new inflatable "car wash" water type thingy for the kids to play in. I was now starting to become paranoid.
Was the fact that I thought I had these kids finally under control just a delusion in my head? I realize that we had added a fourth to our group (a sweet little friend of Riley's has joined our summer adventure) but if anything, she was a wonderful playmate and distraction for him - which really only left me with two other kiddos who were constantly hanging from my legs.
And then it occurred to me.
This "chaos" that they see is, in fact, my normal. It's jumping and screaming and yelling and laughing and aggravating and silliness and temper tantrums and crying and playing and joking and craziness all rolled up into each day - which ends with me (and hopefully the kids too) feeling like all in all, it was another accomplished and successful day. Of course, I'm not ashamed to admit that the water inflatable gifts (which I did actually graciously accept - Hey, I'm not THAT proud) do help the day along just a little.
Oh, and please take note that I do not know these people very well...
1. First neighbor delivers a slip n' slide to my front door. Totally free of charge. Says that he saw me spraying down the kids with the hose in the front yard and wasn't sure if it was a stress reliever or just for fun. I began to wonder if it appeared to him that I was spraying them a little more violently then what I had intended? I mean, sure, it felt good to sneak up on them, hose in hand, and spray the crap out of them. But it couldn't have been that bad...right?
2. Same neighbor, two days later, says he and his wife are having a yard sale. His wife suggested that he come over and offer me first dibs on all the toys because we look like we could use some extra help with child entertainment. With a look of confusion I told him that I was appreciative, but kindly declined. Thoughts began to swim through my head. What on Earth did they think was happening over here?
3. Another very sweet neighbor, further down the street, greeted me first thing in the morning while I was opening the garage door. Up comes the door and BAM! There she is, standing there holding a large box. She holds it out to me and says it looks like I could use this more than she could. It is a brand new inflatable "car wash" water type thingy for the kids to play in. I was now starting to become paranoid.
Was the fact that I thought I had these kids finally under control just a delusion in my head? I realize that we had added a fourth to our group (a sweet little friend of Riley's has joined our summer adventure) but if anything, she was a wonderful playmate and distraction for him - which really only left me with two other kiddos who were constantly hanging from my legs.
And then it occurred to me.
This "chaos" that they see is, in fact, my normal. It's jumping and screaming and yelling and laughing and aggravating and silliness and temper tantrums and crying and playing and joking and craziness all rolled up into each day - which ends with me (and hopefully the kids too) feeling like all in all, it was another accomplished and successful day. Of course, I'm not ashamed to admit that the water inflatable gifts (which I did actually graciously accept - Hey, I'm not THAT proud) do help the day along just a little.
Vegan-ese
I have to laugh. My last blog was about being on the South Beach diet which centers around meals rich in animal protein. At the time, I was convinced that it was the answer to my prayers on weight loss. Little did I know that a few short months later I would be sitting here telling you that not only have I given up meat completely, but I'm a bona-fide vegan.
For those who are not familiar with the vegan lifestyle, this means I do not eat anything that is or comes from an animal. Although I'm a little more limited on my food choices - and honestly still trying to get past the mindset of centering dinner around a cut of beef - I have realized that this is what I need to do because fad diets are not the long-term answer. I need a lifestyle change. I won't preach about all of the health benefits from eating mostly plant-based foods. To each his own, I always say. I'm just happy that I've finally found the true way to get my energy level back to normal and it doesn't hurt that I'm doing my body a world of good in the meantime. Yay vegans!
For those who are not familiar with the vegan lifestyle, this means I do not eat anything that is or comes from an animal. Although I'm a little more limited on my food choices - and honestly still trying to get past the mindset of centering dinner around a cut of beef - I have realized that this is what I need to do because fad diets are not the long-term answer. I need a lifestyle change. I won't preach about all of the health benefits from eating mostly plant-based foods. To each his own, I always say. I'm just happy that I've finally found the true way to get my energy level back to normal and it doesn't hurt that I'm doing my body a world of good in the meantime. Yay vegans!
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Hey... I think I see me!
I am on the cusp of day 11 of the South Beach diet and I think I am finally starting to recognize myself. For the last 5 years I feel like I've gone from heffer to small cow to skinny cow back to heffer and well, yeah, the cycle went round and round. Since I am determined to have zero more babies (please don't jinx me please don't jinx me) I thought it might be a good time to take drastic measures to find myself. I am proud to say that think I'm finally starting to recognize my face when I look in the mirror these days!
A few things I've noticed during this transformation, as well as a few tips:
1. Get rid of ALL junk. Only buy your kids the crap that you hate. I think fruit roll-ups are disgusting. Guess what my kids get as a treat? Yep.
2. NEVER take your husband grocery shopping with you. It will only end up with you trying to read every food label in sight for hidden sugars and other nasties while he constantly says "It's JUST peanut butter! They are all made from PEANUTS. Just PICK ONE already."
3. Mentally prepare yourself that your new grocery bill will give you a mini-stroke the first few times you go shopping. I'd like to think this is just a preliminary phase and as the diet goes on, you'll find cheaper solutions for recipes. Until then, ask yourself "Is the extra $40 worth a smaller ass?" Exactly.
4. Be prepared to cook separate meals for awhile. Even though you might be okay with eating a slab of chicken with steamed broccoli, your kids may take awhile. Adopt the philosophy that if they at least eat some of the meat and veggies, half a box of Spongbob mac n' cheese might be okay.
5. You will build muscles not only at the gym but also by carrying the 3,000 cans of beans, vegetables, broths, tuna, tomatoes, and every other healthy canned good you could possibly think of from the car to the house and then from the floor to the pantry shelf. At least 60% of my complete purchase today was cans. I could tell the Wal-mart cashier hated me as she slammed the last few in the bag. On the upside my arms are becoming quite shapely.
6. All those things that scream "Organic!" "Whole Grain!" "Low-fat!" or "Sugar Free!" might just be a load of doo-doo. I will spare you the details on what I've been researching about the first three. As for the fourth, let's just say that from what I've read the "sugar alcohols" should just say "major laxative". I don't know what scares me more. Fighting off the sugar cravings or giving in to the "sugar-free" stuff and then not being able to leave the house all day. Sorry kids! Mommy can't go to the park today, I just ate a whole bag of sugar-free peanut butter cups!
7. Don't go easy on yourself. Don't fall for that "You can fall off the bandwagon one day, just be sure to jump back on the next!" bull crap. You'll find yourself "falling off" every other day and then pacifying yourself by "jumping" back on the next. Scream out loud to yourself "I'm tired of being a tub-o-lard. I want my ass or thighs or tummy (or all three!) back right now!". Be nasty, be pushy and I promise when the first few pounds start to fall off you will gain a renewed sense of motivation. I say this easily because I have eaten more eggs, nuts, cheese and meat in the last 10 days than I think I ever have in my entire life. A few veggies thrown in there too of course. And I've lost 7 pounds in 10 days. Nothing says full like 2 eggs, a can of green beans and a chicken with walnuts. A little celery with peanut butter for a snack later on and you're as good as gold.
8. This is not a commercial for South Beach. I just happen to really like it. What helps me is to take an interest in food, how it's made, where it comes from and most importantly, how it interacts with your body. Take a vested interest in reading all the really gross stuff like how many rodent hairs are permitted per pound of potato chips or how many maggots per jug of ketchup. In fact, read it twice and then post it on your fridge. I promise you won't want to eat them anymore.
Now if only someone could convince me there were worms in chocolate... Naaaah.
Good luck to all of you who are fighting this daily battle as well. It's a hard road but damn it feels good to be back in my old clothes again!
A few things I've noticed during this transformation, as well as a few tips:
1. Get rid of ALL junk. Only buy your kids the crap that you hate. I think fruit roll-ups are disgusting. Guess what my kids get as a treat? Yep.
2. NEVER take your husband grocery shopping with you. It will only end up with you trying to read every food label in sight for hidden sugars and other nasties while he constantly says "It's JUST peanut butter! They are all made from PEANUTS. Just PICK ONE already."
3. Mentally prepare yourself that your new grocery bill will give you a mini-stroke the first few times you go shopping. I'd like to think this is just a preliminary phase and as the diet goes on, you'll find cheaper solutions for recipes. Until then, ask yourself "Is the extra $40 worth a smaller ass?" Exactly.
4. Be prepared to cook separate meals for awhile. Even though you might be okay with eating a slab of chicken with steamed broccoli, your kids may take awhile. Adopt the philosophy that if they at least eat some of the meat and veggies, half a box of Spongbob mac n' cheese might be okay.
5. You will build muscles not only at the gym but also by carrying the 3,000 cans of beans, vegetables, broths, tuna, tomatoes, and every other healthy canned good you could possibly think of from the car to the house and then from the floor to the pantry shelf. At least 60% of my complete purchase today was cans. I could tell the Wal-mart cashier hated me as she slammed the last few in the bag. On the upside my arms are becoming quite shapely.
6. All those things that scream "Organic!" "Whole Grain!" "Low-fat!" or "Sugar Free!" might just be a load of doo-doo. I will spare you the details on what I've been researching about the first three. As for the fourth, let's just say that from what I've read the "sugar alcohols" should just say "major laxative". I don't know what scares me more. Fighting off the sugar cravings or giving in to the "sugar-free" stuff and then not being able to leave the house all day. Sorry kids! Mommy can't go to the park today, I just ate a whole bag of sugar-free peanut butter cups!
7. Don't go easy on yourself. Don't fall for that "You can fall off the bandwagon one day, just be sure to jump back on the next!" bull crap. You'll find yourself "falling off" every other day and then pacifying yourself by "jumping" back on the next. Scream out loud to yourself "I'm tired of being a tub-o-lard. I want my ass or thighs or tummy (or all three!) back right now!". Be nasty, be pushy and I promise when the first few pounds start to fall off you will gain a renewed sense of motivation. I say this easily because I have eaten more eggs, nuts, cheese and meat in the last 10 days than I think I ever have in my entire life. A few veggies thrown in there too of course. And I've lost 7 pounds in 10 days. Nothing says full like 2 eggs, a can of green beans and a chicken with walnuts. A little celery with peanut butter for a snack later on and you're as good as gold.
8. This is not a commercial for South Beach. I just happen to really like it. What helps me is to take an interest in food, how it's made, where it comes from and most importantly, how it interacts with your body. Take a vested interest in reading all the really gross stuff like how many rodent hairs are permitted per pound of potato chips or how many maggots per jug of ketchup. In fact, read it twice and then post it on your fridge. I promise you won't want to eat them anymore.
Now if only someone could convince me there were worms in chocolate... Naaaah.
Good luck to all of you who are fighting this daily battle as well. It's a hard road but damn it feels good to be back in my old clothes again!
Monday, January 31, 2011
Signs that I'm becoming lazy
At first I told myself they were short-cuts. In all honestly, cutting corners isn't necessarily the worst thing a mom of three could do. Lately, though, I think I've taken it a tad too far. "Adriane", as my mother used to say, "You're just being lazy". This is why...
Bottles: My two youngest are still on the bottle. One seriously, the other a wanna-be. I took away the wanna-be's pacifier, so now she mostly just chews on the nipple as a make-shift binky. Beating the system or whatever, I guess. So I used to pull out two bottles at every naptime and then again at every bedtime. Sometimes if we were having a particularly hard day, I would even pull a few more out for a "I-need-a-few-minutes-of-peace-so-put-this-in-your-mouth" type moment. So there, I admitted it. Anyway - One day, while unloading the endless sea of bottles from the top rack of the dishwasher (for the 2nd time that day might I add) I realized this was just nuts. No, no. It was INSANE. Definition of insanity: Doing the same thing over and over again but expecting different results. I kept unloading the damn dishwasher thinking "This will change... tomorrow there won't be as many..." and then the next morning I would be emptying the fricken dishwasher full of bottles, as if they had had bottle relations and bred in there overnight. Cut a corner on this one? Oh, no. No, friends. That's not necessary. I can do one better. Now my girls have one bottle that they share between them all day and they take turns with it. Sometimes, and I'm really laying it all out on the table with this one... Sometimes, I don't even rinse it when it's being refilled for the next kid. Afterall, my toddler licks every damn thing in sight, so can her baby sisters germs really be that bad? I'm like Super Mommy teaching my children multiple important life lessons like patience and sharing all at the same time!
Kitchen Clean-up: Oh, the kitchen. If my husband tells me one more time "Baby, the only thing a person really needs to keep cleaned through the day to feel tidy is the kitchen" I will kill him. Dear Husband, it is NOT that simple. Well (insert evil laugh) until now. Meet my friend: Shop-Vac. Shop-Vac and I see eye to eye on pretty much everything. If it fits in his tube, it's getting sucked up. Liquid, dirt, dried noodles, bugs. It doesn't matter. Shop-Vac does it all. In fact, I've become so incredibly partial to him that he is now a very ugly but very permanent fixture in my kitchen. Right next to the highchair actually. Oh sure, I used to get out the bottle of cleaner and spray everything down. Use a tree and a half worth of paper towels to clean the cracks and crevices. I'd wipe down the table, the seats, the counters. 3 hours later I realized I'd had more than enough of that. I started cutting corners by using the already pre-soaked cleaning wipes and only sweeping every other day. On my off days I would just kick bits of cereal bars or scrambled egg out of the main walkways. No need to trample that mess into other rooms as well! Now, it's just me and the Shop-Vac... with the occasional spray down of the kitchen counter of course. There's nothing like a nice long dinner where the kids have thrown more peas and rice onto the floor than they put into their mouths. Chicken bits scattered under the table and smashed peas in the rug. Top it off with a crumbly brownie and there you have it. A trifecta of colors EVERYWHERE. Do I stress? Nope. Do I envision the hours it will take me to wipe all of that up and then the other 2 hours it will take me to pick the peas out of the broom and the brownie out of the highchair seat? Nope. Nope. Nope. I simply tell the kids to stay put, I turn on the Shop-Vac and then I go to town. At first I would just suck up every speck I could find. Now I make the kids sit still so that I can Shop-Vac them as well. No need to take their spaghetti noodles with them to the tub. No siree! If anyone could see us, they would probably call CPS - but I always close the kitchen window blinds just in case (insert second evil laugh). So there my kids are, mommy going from kid to kid with the Shop-Vac sucking up bits and pieces of food from their hair like I was using a genuine Flowbee. Don't worry, I tried it out on myself first. It kind of tickles. After their heads I move to their laps, arms, and feet. Once they've been cleared for take-off I go to the floor and then lastly, the highchair. There is something so satisfying about taking the Shop-Vac hose and sucking out every last bit of anything in that chair. Fresh and clean for a brand new day. I love it. I just love that Shop-Vac of mine.
Laundry: I've never been good at it. I even know people who like it. I, on the other hand, hate it. Like, really really really hate it. That much. I never figured out how to cut corners on this one so I just abandoned ship completely and did the unthinkable. I started washing everything - together. At first I would "accidentally" throw in a black sock or two with some questionable whites to see what would happen. When those came out looking fine, I upped the ante and threw in a dark t-shirt. Still looked okay to me. I mean, hey, I'm the mom who shows up at the playground with the extremely wrinkled pants and partly faded shirt and thinks it's okay because I have several children. As if my kids are now my excuse for my poor fashion sense and total lack for caring about my appearance. Oh yeah. Duh. They are. So now, not only do I wash most things in batches instead of colors, I also developed a new method for folding. Instead of leaving my clothes in the dryer until we'd all pretty much worn everything out of it, I decided to be a bit more proactive by putting the kids clothes away completely laid out in the drawers. No folding necessary. Just layers upon layers of flattened pants and shirts all waiting to be snatched up, worn and stained again. I'm telling you, for us laundry haters there is no better feeling than knowing that the laundry can go straight from the dryer to the drawer. Screw the hours of sitting and folding and then taking a bathroom break while my toddler destroys my towers of clothing like she's King Kong. I'd say I'm maybe even edging on enjoying laundry now, but nah....
The list just goes on and on, but unfortunately - and I'm ashamed to say - I would have you here all day reading about it. Gone are the days of wiping the kids noses with lotion Kleenex tissues, using two separate sized diapers for my 1 year old and 2 year old and putting leftovers in Tupperware. Today it's all about the shirt sleeves, buying diapers that fit everyone (even if they might be a bit snug or a little loose) and throwing the whole dang pot of soup in the fridge IN THE POT. Fifty years from now I want to look back and remember the good times. Not how long it took me to clean the kitchen. Thank you, Mr. Shop-Vac.
Bottles: My two youngest are still on the bottle. One seriously, the other a wanna-be. I took away the wanna-be's pacifier, so now she mostly just chews on the nipple as a make-shift binky. Beating the system or whatever, I guess. So I used to pull out two bottles at every naptime and then again at every bedtime. Sometimes if we were having a particularly hard day, I would even pull a few more out for a "I-need-a-few-minutes-of-peace-so-put-this-in-your-mouth" type moment. So there, I admitted it. Anyway - One day, while unloading the endless sea of bottles from the top rack of the dishwasher (for the 2nd time that day might I add) I realized this was just nuts. No, no. It was INSANE. Definition of insanity: Doing the same thing over and over again but expecting different results. I kept unloading the damn dishwasher thinking "This will change... tomorrow there won't be as many..." and then the next morning I would be emptying the fricken dishwasher full of bottles, as if they had had bottle relations and bred in there overnight. Cut a corner on this one? Oh, no. No, friends. That's not necessary. I can do one better. Now my girls have one bottle that they share between them all day and they take turns with it. Sometimes, and I'm really laying it all out on the table with this one... Sometimes, I don't even rinse it when it's being refilled for the next kid. Afterall, my toddler licks every damn thing in sight, so can her baby sisters germs really be that bad? I'm like Super Mommy teaching my children multiple important life lessons like patience and sharing all at the same time!
Kitchen Clean-up: Oh, the kitchen. If my husband tells me one more time "Baby, the only thing a person really needs to keep cleaned through the day to feel tidy is the kitchen" I will kill him. Dear Husband, it is NOT that simple. Well (insert evil laugh) until now. Meet my friend: Shop-Vac. Shop-Vac and I see eye to eye on pretty much everything. If it fits in his tube, it's getting sucked up. Liquid, dirt, dried noodles, bugs. It doesn't matter. Shop-Vac does it all. In fact, I've become so incredibly partial to him that he is now a very ugly but very permanent fixture in my kitchen. Right next to the highchair actually. Oh sure, I used to get out the bottle of cleaner and spray everything down. Use a tree and a half worth of paper towels to clean the cracks and crevices. I'd wipe down the table, the seats, the counters. 3 hours later I realized I'd had more than enough of that. I started cutting corners by using the already pre-soaked cleaning wipes and only sweeping every other day. On my off days I would just kick bits of cereal bars or scrambled egg out of the main walkways. No need to trample that mess into other rooms as well! Now, it's just me and the Shop-Vac... with the occasional spray down of the kitchen counter of course. There's nothing like a nice long dinner where the kids have thrown more peas and rice onto the floor than they put into their mouths. Chicken bits scattered under the table and smashed peas in the rug. Top it off with a crumbly brownie and there you have it. A trifecta of colors EVERYWHERE. Do I stress? Nope. Do I envision the hours it will take me to wipe all of that up and then the other 2 hours it will take me to pick the peas out of the broom and the brownie out of the highchair seat? Nope. Nope. Nope. I simply tell the kids to stay put, I turn on the Shop-Vac and then I go to town. At first I would just suck up every speck I could find. Now I make the kids sit still so that I can Shop-Vac them as well. No need to take their spaghetti noodles with them to the tub. No siree! If anyone could see us, they would probably call CPS - but I always close the kitchen window blinds just in case (insert second evil laugh). So there my kids are, mommy going from kid to kid with the Shop-Vac sucking up bits and pieces of food from their hair like I was using a genuine Flowbee. Don't worry, I tried it out on myself first. It kind of tickles. After their heads I move to their laps, arms, and feet. Once they've been cleared for take-off I go to the floor and then lastly, the highchair. There is something so satisfying about taking the Shop-Vac hose and sucking out every last bit of anything in that chair. Fresh and clean for a brand new day. I love it. I just love that Shop-Vac of mine.
Laundry: I've never been good at it. I even know people who like it. I, on the other hand, hate it. Like, really really really hate it. That much. I never figured out how to cut corners on this one so I just abandoned ship completely and did the unthinkable. I started washing everything - together. At first I would "accidentally" throw in a black sock or two with some questionable whites to see what would happen. When those came out looking fine, I upped the ante and threw in a dark t-shirt. Still looked okay to me. I mean, hey, I'm the mom who shows up at the playground with the extremely wrinkled pants and partly faded shirt and thinks it's okay because I have several children. As if my kids are now my excuse for my poor fashion sense and total lack for caring about my appearance. Oh yeah. Duh. They are. So now, not only do I wash most things in batches instead of colors, I also developed a new method for folding. Instead of leaving my clothes in the dryer until we'd all pretty much worn everything out of it, I decided to be a bit more proactive by putting the kids clothes away completely laid out in the drawers. No folding necessary. Just layers upon layers of flattened pants and shirts all waiting to be snatched up, worn and stained again. I'm telling you, for us laundry haters there is no better feeling than knowing that the laundry can go straight from the dryer to the drawer. Screw the hours of sitting and folding and then taking a bathroom break while my toddler destroys my towers of clothing like she's King Kong. I'd say I'm maybe even edging on enjoying laundry now, but nah....
The list just goes on and on, but unfortunately - and I'm ashamed to say - I would have you here all day reading about it. Gone are the days of wiping the kids noses with lotion Kleenex tissues, using two separate sized diapers for my 1 year old and 2 year old and putting leftovers in Tupperware. Today it's all about the shirt sleeves, buying diapers that fit everyone (even if they might be a bit snug or a little loose) and throwing the whole dang pot of soup in the fridge IN THE POT. Fifty years from now I want to look back and remember the good times. Not how long it took me to clean the kitchen. Thank you, Mr. Shop-Vac.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
All things ICKY
We've all seen her. The mom who picks up the dropped binky, sticks it in her mouth to clean it off, and then promptly plops it back into her baby's mouth. Disgusting.
Let's call this woman, for lack of a better description (and of course, NO offense intended whatsoever): "Gross Mom".
Gross Mom does things like use their finger to wipe the icing remnants from their little ones mouth and then puts said finger in their own mouth to lick it clean. CRINGE.
Gross Mom does things like give their baby a drink of their water through a straw, watches tons of backwash and food particles float to the bottom of their cup, and then takes a big swig themselves. PUKE.
Gross Mom does things like pick at crusty knee scabs or yank boogers out of their kids snotty noses with their bare hands. DRY HEAVE.
Gross Mom also does things like give their child a bite of their food from a spoon and then proceeds to eat off whatever remnants the child left behind. GAG.
Ughhh...I can't handle it. Any of it.
Perhaps I am the exception to the rule but I just can't share my drink, among many other expected child-parent related things. My husband gives me a hard time about this and jokes that I am strange for not wanting to share germs with my own flesh and blood. I don't deny it, I even thank him for finally understanding me. "It's not that I don't want to share", I say to him sheepishly as he watches me order a drink for myself and a separate one for the kids. "I just can't."
Oh I'm sure in the official Motherhood Handbook somewhere there is a whole section on "sharing" and just below the definition is the antonym... followed by a picture of my face. Don't get me wrong, I actually do very well with sharing all sorts of other things. It's just usually the above that gets me queasy. Well, that and dirty diapers, my son peeing on the toilet seat for the 30th time and picking up soggy soup noodles from the floor. Blech.
Anyway, there isn't any moral to the story here or some groundbreaking point I'm trying to make. In fact, I'm positive that 99% of you reading this will be thinking halfway through "What is wrong with that girl?". To that, I say, I don't know. Maybe it all stems from my days working as an aide in the nursing home, giving sweet old ladies manicures. You've never seen dirtier nails on a person in your life... and they don't even go outside that often! It took me about two weeks to realize that my dread for going there each day had nothing to do with work and everything to do with dirty, disgusting, nasty finger nails. I held my breath and choked back vomit long enough to finish one adorable little old woman's mani and then I split like a bat out of hell. I never went back. All the money in the world couldn't have kept me there. Oh the horrid memories...
My fellow Mothers, I commend you for your willingness to get down and dirty with the backwash and the poopy diapers. I am completely envious of your ability to give your toddler a bite of your ice cream cone. Who knows... maybe one day I'll come around. Until then, it's separate spoons for me.
Let's call this woman, for lack of a better description (and of course, NO offense intended whatsoever): "Gross Mom".
Gross Mom does things like use their finger to wipe the icing remnants from their little ones mouth and then puts said finger in their own mouth to lick it clean. CRINGE.
Gross Mom does things like give their baby a drink of their water through a straw, watches tons of backwash and food particles float to the bottom of their cup, and then takes a big swig themselves. PUKE.
Gross Mom does things like pick at crusty knee scabs or yank boogers out of their kids snotty noses with their bare hands. DRY HEAVE.
Gross Mom also does things like give their child a bite of their food from a spoon and then proceeds to eat off whatever remnants the child left behind. GAG.
Ughhh...I can't handle it. Any of it.
Perhaps I am the exception to the rule but I just can't share my drink, among many other expected child-parent related things. My husband gives me a hard time about this and jokes that I am strange for not wanting to share germs with my own flesh and blood. I don't deny it, I even thank him for finally understanding me. "It's not that I don't want to share", I say to him sheepishly as he watches me order a drink for myself and a separate one for the kids. "I just can't."
Oh I'm sure in the official Motherhood Handbook somewhere there is a whole section on "sharing" and just below the definition is the antonym... followed by a picture of my face. Don't get me wrong, I actually do very well with sharing all sorts of other things. It's just usually the above that gets me queasy. Well, that and dirty diapers, my son peeing on the toilet seat for the 30th time and picking up soggy soup noodles from the floor. Blech.
Anyway, there isn't any moral to the story here or some groundbreaking point I'm trying to make. In fact, I'm positive that 99% of you reading this will be thinking halfway through "What is wrong with that girl?". To that, I say, I don't know. Maybe it all stems from my days working as an aide in the nursing home, giving sweet old ladies manicures. You've never seen dirtier nails on a person in your life... and they don't even go outside that often! It took me about two weeks to realize that my dread for going there each day had nothing to do with work and everything to do with dirty, disgusting, nasty finger nails. I held my breath and choked back vomit long enough to finish one adorable little old woman's mani and then I split like a bat out of hell. I never went back. All the money in the world couldn't have kept me there. Oh the horrid memories...
My fellow Mothers, I commend you for your willingness to get down and dirty with the backwash and the poopy diapers. I am completely envious of your ability to give your toddler a bite of your ice cream cone. Who knows... maybe one day I'll come around. Until then, it's separate spoons for me.
Writing and Relating
My Mom, gotta love her, will occasionally forward me an article or two from another random mommy blogging site. I like reading these for various reasons. The two most important being that I am always interested in other moms writing styles and second, I can totally and completely relate. Often times I find myself living the exact life this person is describing in their blog, like play by play to the tee. It's surreal.
I just finished reading one particular article where the mom was describing how difficult it was to find time to write and deal with the household and children and general daily chores. She had given up her original plan of writing only at night after the kids had gone to bed. There was just no true end to her day to find time for herself. At least not without passing out on the desk and short circuiting the keys with her drool. She continued her post with interjections of countless disruptions and specifics on the whereabouts and actions of her kids. She relayed the unending requests that they had - about everything. It was all typed out like one crazy insane play. One that only a mom could truly understand. At the close of the article she even gave an exact tally of how many interruptions, requests, tantrums and melt-downs she had dealt with during the writing of her article (whose main subject had become lost on all of us, including her!). Kudos to her for even counting. I think if I knew the total number of times I said "No!", defused a tantrum, broke up a fight or poured a cup of juice in one day I might check myself into the looney bin.
I found comfort in her writing. Just as I find comfort when I hear one of my friends say "And here I thought it was just me!" during one of our "comparison of child-rearing" discussions. We relate. After all ladies, we're in this for the long haul... and from what I've heard, although the dynamics with our children will change - from diapers to boyfriends, driving to forgotten curfews, and then forming families of their own - it never truly ends. Not that we want it to. I guess we all just need an outlet like writing or exercise or reading or endless bottles of wine to release a bit of the worry and stress it creates. For me, it's blogging and finding the humor in my everyday battles that gets me through. Hopefully, whatever your vice, just like me you can totally and completely relate.
I just finished reading one particular article where the mom was describing how difficult it was to find time to write and deal with the household and children and general daily chores. She had given up her original plan of writing only at night after the kids had gone to bed. There was just no true end to her day to find time for herself. At least not without passing out on the desk and short circuiting the keys with her drool. She continued her post with interjections of countless disruptions and specifics on the whereabouts and actions of her kids. She relayed the unending requests that they had - about everything. It was all typed out like one crazy insane play. One that only a mom could truly understand. At the close of the article she even gave an exact tally of how many interruptions, requests, tantrums and melt-downs she had dealt with during the writing of her article (whose main subject had become lost on all of us, including her!). Kudos to her for even counting. I think if I knew the total number of times I said "No!", defused a tantrum, broke up a fight or poured a cup of juice in one day I might check myself into the looney bin.
I found comfort in her writing. Just as I find comfort when I hear one of my friends say "And here I thought it was just me!" during one of our "comparison of child-rearing" discussions. We relate. After all ladies, we're in this for the long haul... and from what I've heard, although the dynamics with our children will change - from diapers to boyfriends, driving to forgotten curfews, and then forming families of their own - it never truly ends. Not that we want it to. I guess we all just need an outlet like writing or exercise or reading or endless bottles of wine to release a bit of the worry and stress it creates. For me, it's blogging and finding the humor in my everyday battles that gets me through. Hopefully, whatever your vice, just like me you can totally and completely relate.
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