Here's what I've learned about traveling with kids. It totally f'ing blows. The floor of the swagger wagon is completely covered in "snack debris" with the occasional spilled sippy cup. Nothing is more awesome than a partially soaked graham cracker on the bottom of your foot. Last time, I actually made a handwritten sign that I held up to passing cars that said "Will Trade Kids for Wine". I got a couple of laughs but no takers on the trade.
The kids language is horrific after two hours in the car. Sam wanted her sippy cup back after hurling it in a fit of travel rage at Johns head. I couldn't find where the damn thing landed so I said "sorry, sam, I can't find it." She gave an exasperated sigh and said, "Oh fuck it. I don't need it". This actually felt like an ENORMOUS win for me so I just said "Thanks for being flexible sam!" Bra. vo!
And then you have to deal with "potty" issues. Sidebar: I have to say that I'd take kid potty issues over adult male potty issues every day of the week. Why do men get a spontaneous urge to take a crap? It's like their bodies offer absolutely no warning for when this is going to happen. Not only that, but it STILL takes them 30 minutes to finish the job. It makes NO SENSE. Either you have to go urgently, or you have to take 30 minutes. It just can't work both ways. I had a good friend say "I go in the bathroom and you don't know whether I shit or pissed because it takes the same amount of time. What the hell takes men so long?" Amen Sista. I have no freeking idea.
Anyway, back to kid travel. Fast forward twelve and a half hours to hotel check in. How hard is it to swipe my credit card and give me keys that will actually open the damn door? We have 18 wheeled carts full of shit, the kids are asleep in our arms (which are, coincidentally also asleep because I've been holding one of them for 26 minutes during check in) and we finally get to the door of our room. We pull out the hotel key card, swipe it, and get the red f'ing light. Of course I try it 10 more times thinking there's no way a key they JUST GAVE ME doesn't work! But, despite my optimism, we return to the front desk for another key. I throw such a shit fit that I'm almost positive they've just given me a master key that will open any door in the hotel just to save themselves from being physically accosted if I have to walk back down there.
We put the kids in their beds and THANK YOU JESUS they stay asleep. I head straight for the mini bar to grab a screw top single serve bottle of wine that they hand out for free on airplanes but charge you $15 for in a hotel room and say "we are never going on 'vacation' again….."
Thursday, July 9, 2015
Wednesday, July 8, 2015
The Birds and the Bees….
In my last post, I promised to tell you the story about how I found out I was pregnant. I was going to say "here's the story about how I got pregnant" but that story isn't actually that interesting and I was too bombed to remember the details anyway. Whoever said "a good story never starts with a salad" was spot on.
Anyway, our beloved SamSam (the one I affectionately call an f'ing monster) was about 10 months old. She's been a real piece of work since the minute she entered this world. Actually, she was a monster BEFORE that…most notably during the EIGHTEEN hours of labor to physically get her into this world. The doc who gave me the epidural was about 12 and was obviously on a performance improvement plan at Fairview Hospital. If Sam was going to enter the world through my heel, or even my knee, I would have been GOLDEN because those things were numb as hell. Everything north of that, not so much. Major buzz kill.
Anyway, she was about 10 months old and was already hell on Robeez. We were preparing to move to a new city for my hubby's job and he's 100 years old so we decided that our family was complete with the four of us.
I was spending a lot of time at the gym but still didn't feel like I was getting great results. The girls were sleeping fairly well but I could still barely pull myself out of bed every morning. I stopped by the pharmacy on my way home from work to pick up a refill on my birth control pills. The pharmacist comes over and asks if I have any questions. I explain that I am tired and bloated and suggest that I might want to try a new pill with fewer side effects. He looks puzzled and says "When was your last menstrual cycle". I reply "2010 (it was 2013 at the time) but I've basically been pregnant and/or nursing since then." He pauses and says "Is there a chance you could be pregnant?" I do the laugh that makes a noise and say "No way! I've had two kids, I would know if I was pregnant…I mean…I'd be tired….bloated……shit….shit….shit". I grab the pills and race to the "adult" aisle at Target. I buy the EPT 3 pack and bolt home.
John was out of town at the time (shocker!) so I decided I would take the test after I put the girls to bed. The plus sign showed up INSTANTLY. I had the obvious reaction….I barfed. You would have thought I was a 16 year old taking the pregnancy test in my parents basement for god's sake.
I called the next day to make an OB appointment. I show up and the doc basically repeats the questions the pharmacist asked me. They confirm that I'm pregnant and decide to do a "dating ultra sound". I quip "what are you? match.com for fetuses?" He's not amused.
The ultra sound reveals that I'm 11.5 weeks pregnant. He suggests that I stop taking the birth control pills. I reply "No shit, sherlock". He then asks me "Do you drink regularly?" I laugh (out loud) and say "Umm…I instagrammed a picture of a mojito I was drinking at LUNCH yesterday…BY MYSELF." He gave me the understandable judgement face and says "I'd recommend refraining from alcohol going forward". The shock of the past 24 hours had resulted in a semi permanent loss of my "filter" so I quickly respond "Do you think I should maybe wean it (the fetus) off the booze? Or should I definitely do cold turkey?" He didn't actually speak but his "look" gave me the answer. I quickly agreed "yeah, I mean, I agree, cold turkey for sure." He then tells me that John and I should start talking about more permanent measures to prevent pregnancy if we don't want any additional children. Boy, Captain Obvious is a real genius!!
I must say, it all ended perfectly. Pregnancy flies by a lot quicker when you drink through the first trimester and at the end we ended up with the most adorable little boy who turned out just perfect despite my mojito lunches during the first trimester. As my mom reassured me "I drank all the time when I was pregnant with you kids and you guys turned out just fine!" Well…that's debatable….
Anyway, our beloved SamSam (the one I affectionately call an f'ing monster) was about 10 months old. She's been a real piece of work since the minute she entered this world. Actually, she was a monster BEFORE that…most notably during the EIGHTEEN hours of labor to physically get her into this world. The doc who gave me the epidural was about 12 and was obviously on a performance improvement plan at Fairview Hospital. If Sam was going to enter the world through my heel, or even my knee, I would have been GOLDEN because those things were numb as hell. Everything north of that, not so much. Major buzz kill.
Anyway, she was about 10 months old and was already hell on Robeez. We were preparing to move to a new city for my hubby's job and he's 100 years old so we decided that our family was complete with the four of us.
I was spending a lot of time at the gym but still didn't feel like I was getting great results. The girls were sleeping fairly well but I could still barely pull myself out of bed every morning. I stopped by the pharmacy on my way home from work to pick up a refill on my birth control pills. The pharmacist comes over and asks if I have any questions. I explain that I am tired and bloated and suggest that I might want to try a new pill with fewer side effects. He looks puzzled and says "When was your last menstrual cycle". I reply "2010 (it was 2013 at the time) but I've basically been pregnant and/or nursing since then." He pauses and says "Is there a chance you could be pregnant?" I do the laugh that makes a noise and say "No way! I've had two kids, I would know if I was pregnant…I mean…I'd be tired….bloated……shit….shit….shit". I grab the pills and race to the "adult" aisle at Target. I buy the EPT 3 pack and bolt home.
John was out of town at the time (shocker!) so I decided I would take the test after I put the girls to bed. The plus sign showed up INSTANTLY. I had the obvious reaction….I barfed. You would have thought I was a 16 year old taking the pregnancy test in my parents basement for god's sake.
I called the next day to make an OB appointment. I show up and the doc basically repeats the questions the pharmacist asked me. They confirm that I'm pregnant and decide to do a "dating ultra sound". I quip "what are you? match.com for fetuses?" He's not amused.
The ultra sound reveals that I'm 11.5 weeks pregnant. He suggests that I stop taking the birth control pills. I reply "No shit, sherlock". He then asks me "Do you drink regularly?" I laugh (out loud) and say "Umm…I instagrammed a picture of a mojito I was drinking at LUNCH yesterday…BY MYSELF." He gave me the understandable judgement face and says "I'd recommend refraining from alcohol going forward". The shock of the past 24 hours had resulted in a semi permanent loss of my "filter" so I quickly respond "Do you think I should maybe wean it (the fetus) off the booze? Or should I definitely do cold turkey?" He didn't actually speak but his "look" gave me the answer. I quickly agreed "yeah, I mean, I agree, cold turkey for sure." He then tells me that John and I should start talking about more permanent measures to prevent pregnancy if we don't want any additional children. Boy, Captain Obvious is a real genius!!
I must say, it all ended perfectly. Pregnancy flies by a lot quicker when you drink through the first trimester and at the end we ended up with the most adorable little boy who turned out just perfect despite my mojito lunches during the first trimester. As my mom reassured me "I drank all the time when I was pregnant with you kids and you guys turned out just fine!" Well…that's debatable….
Friday, September 5, 2014
SAHM seeks SAHM for drinking and playdates….(in that order)
It's been awhile…I mean, a LONG while. So, here's what has happened since my last blog. I had ANOTHER kid (yes I'm serious. However, we finally figured out how it happens so this is the last one) and we moved to a new city. Oh, and I quit my "sort of real job" to be a stay at home mom. Other than every single aspect of my life changing, things are pretty status quo for me.
Moving is SCARY!! It's hard to think about leaving your entire support system and having to start all over. Ok, I admit, I didn't lose my ENTIRE support system. Our nanny moved with us which pretty much confirms that she's either overpaid or has the hots for my husband. I knew I never should have waived my nanny "200 rule" (age plus weight must be at least 200). Anyway, we'll see how that plays out over the next five years. Wish me luck.
We moved to Cincinnati. For those of you who might not know, it's in OHIO. I'll blog more about that later.
Now that I'm stay at home mom, I have a question…..Why are moms so freeking competitive? They say "my kid is so gifted" "My kid is such a great eater" "She can speak two languages already" (one of which is always FRENCH as if you can do anything with French other than order a freeking baguette at au bon pain) blah blah blah. I'm looking for those moms who want to win the "my kid is a bigger bitch than your kid" or "my kids going to be on a higher dose of ritalyn by age 4 than your kid" contest. I mean, I can't be the only one who has a two year old who has bitch slapped both a 2 month old and a 90 year old. No ageists in this house.
I started to think maybe I was revealing too much too soon, you know, the same pitfall when you're doing "real" dating. So I started thinking about the sort of stories I should probably save for the second or third "mom date" …let me know what you think..
1) The one about how my 2 year old bites or hits her brother EVERY SINGLE DAY. When she gets in trouble she just laughs and says "He tough". I started taking away her blanket when she is rough with the baby. She loves that thing more than the feeling of newborn flesh between her teeth so I thought for sure that was going to work like a charm! And for the first couple times, it did. But then, boy, that shit backfired. The other day she said "mama. blankee" and handed it to me. Then she walked over and cold clocked her brother.
2) My four year old is a freeking parrot. You'll think she's totally engrossed in Dora because she doesn't respond to a single question you ask her so you go ahead and give your sister a blow by blow of everything going on in your life without worrying about S-P-E-L-L-I-N-G any of the naughty words. Then you drop her off at pre school the next day and when the teacher says "Hi Charli! How was your morning?" She responds instantly with "oh, Sam was a total f'ing shit show again". Thank god I can think on my feet so I did the only thing you CAN do in that situation. I looked at the teacher and said "Are you saying those kinds of things in class? That's horrible! Clean up your language potty mouth!" To be honest, I was just thrilled that she said "f'ing" instead of the full word. Thank god I try to be efficient on the phone.
The really nice thing about "mom" friends is that its sort of like having your own personal network of pediatricians. I mean for some stay at home moms, they hit the jackpot and had an MD degree fly out of their vag right after the placenta of their first mensa member. I mean, these moms are freaks of nature. They have that "developmental milestone" chart memorized and it's their mom-ic duty to tell you when your kid is lagging behind. And they have an all out hay day when your kid bites their kid. It's like the parental advice jackpot. They have all the solutions on how to get it to stop. And they always say "bite them back" which, coincidentally, I have tried and that result was worse than project blankee. I bit her back once, and, of course, she laughed and started biting even MORE. Then she bit her brother when daddy was around one time. And daddy said "We don't bite in this house!" and of course the little shit strings together her first two word sentence (3 months after her "milestone date" for two word sentences) and says "mommy bites". He turns to me and the look on my face said it all. Thank god his only response was "Jesus christ meg". I'm thinking, great, now Charli's going to take the name of the lord in vain when I drop her off tomorrow….
Moving is SCARY!! It's hard to think about leaving your entire support system and having to start all over. Ok, I admit, I didn't lose my ENTIRE support system. Our nanny moved with us which pretty much confirms that she's either overpaid or has the hots for my husband. I knew I never should have waived my nanny "200 rule" (age plus weight must be at least 200). Anyway, we'll see how that plays out over the next five years. Wish me luck.
We moved to Cincinnati. For those of you who might not know, it's in OHIO. I'll blog more about that later.
Now that I'm stay at home mom, I have a question…..Why are moms so freeking competitive? They say "my kid is so gifted" "My kid is such a great eater" "She can speak two languages already" (one of which is always FRENCH as if you can do anything with French other than order a freeking baguette at au bon pain) blah blah blah. I'm looking for those moms who want to win the "my kid is a bigger bitch than your kid" or "my kids going to be on a higher dose of ritalyn by age 4 than your kid" contest. I mean, I can't be the only one who has a two year old who has bitch slapped both a 2 month old and a 90 year old. No ageists in this house.
I started to think maybe I was revealing too much too soon, you know, the same pitfall when you're doing "real" dating. So I started thinking about the sort of stories I should probably save for the second or third "mom date" …let me know what you think..
1) The one about how my 2 year old bites or hits her brother EVERY SINGLE DAY. When she gets in trouble she just laughs and says "He tough". I started taking away her blanket when she is rough with the baby. She loves that thing more than the feeling of newborn flesh between her teeth so I thought for sure that was going to work like a charm! And for the first couple times, it did. But then, boy, that shit backfired. The other day she said "mama. blankee" and handed it to me. Then she walked over and cold clocked her brother.
2) My four year old is a freeking parrot. You'll think she's totally engrossed in Dora because she doesn't respond to a single question you ask her so you go ahead and give your sister a blow by blow of everything going on in your life without worrying about S-P-E-L-L-I-N-G any of the naughty words. Then you drop her off at pre school the next day and when the teacher says "Hi Charli! How was your morning?" She responds instantly with "oh, Sam was a total f'ing shit show again". Thank god I can think on my feet so I did the only thing you CAN do in that situation. I looked at the teacher and said "Are you saying those kinds of things in class? That's horrible! Clean up your language potty mouth!" To be honest, I was just thrilled that she said "f'ing" instead of the full word. Thank god I try to be efficient on the phone.
The really nice thing about "mom" friends is that its sort of like having your own personal network of pediatricians. I mean for some stay at home moms, they hit the jackpot and had an MD degree fly out of their vag right after the placenta of their first mensa member. I mean, these moms are freaks of nature. They have that "developmental milestone" chart memorized and it's their mom-ic duty to tell you when your kid is lagging behind. And they have an all out hay day when your kid bites their kid. It's like the parental advice jackpot. They have all the solutions on how to get it to stop. And they always say "bite them back" which, coincidentally, I have tried and that result was worse than project blankee. I bit her back once, and, of course, she laughed and started biting even MORE. Then she bit her brother when daddy was around one time. And daddy said "We don't bite in this house!" and of course the little shit strings together her first two word sentence (3 months after her "milestone date" for two word sentences) and says "mommy bites". He turns to me and the look on my face said it all. Thank god his only response was "Jesus christ meg". I'm thinking, great, now Charli's going to take the name of the lord in vain when I drop her off tomorrow….
Sunday, May 26, 2013
DDM's (Dense Daddy Moments)
Maternal instinct is a commonly used phrase that refers to how mom's just "know" what their kids need. Have you ever heard the phrase "paternal instinct"? I honestly can't think of a single time that I've heard the phrase because, lets be honest, daddy's can be downright clueless. Here are a few of my favorite acronyms for DDM's (dense daddy moments)...
SSW- Stating the Spelled Word.
Meg "She already had c-o-o-k-i-e-s today"
John "cookies?"
way to go genius, you know how to freeking spell cookies. And now that you said the word out loud our kid is going to refer to them non-stop like rainman until I break down and let her have one more.
The Thanny (ok, so it's not a an acronym---it's a combo phrase like Brangelina)
This term gets used at our house anytime daddy changes a diaper. One side is a complete thong. The entire right ass cheek is hanging out. The other side is full on granny pantie coverage all the way across her hip. It's guaranteed to catch, well, absolutely NOTHING that the little shit (no pun intended) puts in their diaper.
NSB- No Soap Bath
"She sits in there for 30 minutes, you really think she needs soap when she's playing in the warm water for that long?" You know what honey, you're right, how the hell do soap companies make any money because clearly I'm the only idiot who thinks its actually required to get clean.
DC-Daddy Clean
This can be used when referring to the child who has just exited the NSB or when referring to a kitchen that was cleaned without the use of a sponge, broom, spray type cleaner or any kind of towel.
DBR- Daddy Bedtime Routine
I often sit in the kitchen during DBR and think they must be deep cleaning charli's room and moving every single piece of furniture in there. You also hear sounds that make you think a plane is flying over your house but alas, its just daddy and the kid playing "airplane" during "wind down time". When daddy emerges from DBR he always has the same genuinely confused remark "honestly, I don't know why she never goes to bed for me". I can't even comment.
DDB- Daddy Diaper Bag
First of all, it's not a bag. It's a ziploc. It contains one diaper and a package of wet ones hand wipes. Don't be impressed because he's considered that the kids hands will get dirty at the park, after all, that's what shirts are for. He grabbed them with the full intention of using them on your kids ass before using the sole diaper as a thanny for the kid who shits first.
DT- Daddy Time (aka STFM slower than f'in molasses)
Me "Can you put Charli in her car seat while I pack the swim bag and diaper bag?"
Daddy "Sure"
I pack the swim bag, pack the diaper bag, change the baby and then decide I have time to throw in a load of laundry, assuming I can actually find the washing machine behind the mountain of dirty clothes. 7 minutes later I walk out the door and see my husband and daughter on the THIRD STEP of our house. Not even kidding you, they made it less than 7 feet in 7 minutes.
Where is my corkscrew?
If you enjoyed this post, please visit my blog for more comedy…. http://tipsymommy2.blogspot.com
SSW- Stating the Spelled Word.
Meg "She already had c-o-o-k-i-e-s today"
John "cookies?"
way to go genius, you know how to freeking spell cookies. And now that you said the word out loud our kid is going to refer to them non-stop like rainman until I break down and let her have one more.
The Thanny (ok, so it's not a an acronym---it's a combo phrase like Brangelina)
This term gets used at our house anytime daddy changes a diaper. One side is a complete thong. The entire right ass cheek is hanging out. The other side is full on granny pantie coverage all the way across her hip. It's guaranteed to catch, well, absolutely NOTHING that the little shit (no pun intended) puts in their diaper.
NSB- No Soap Bath
"She sits in there for 30 minutes, you really think she needs soap when she's playing in the warm water for that long?" You know what honey, you're right, how the hell do soap companies make any money because clearly I'm the only idiot who thinks its actually required to get clean.
DC-Daddy Clean
This can be used when referring to the child who has just exited the NSB or when referring to a kitchen that was cleaned without the use of a sponge, broom, spray type cleaner or any kind of towel.
DBR- Daddy Bedtime Routine
I often sit in the kitchen during DBR and think they must be deep cleaning charli's room and moving every single piece of furniture in there. You also hear sounds that make you think a plane is flying over your house but alas, its just daddy and the kid playing "airplane" during "wind down time". When daddy emerges from DBR he always has the same genuinely confused remark "honestly, I don't know why she never goes to bed for me". I can't even comment.
DDB- Daddy Diaper Bag
First of all, it's not a bag. It's a ziploc. It contains one diaper and a package of wet ones hand wipes. Don't be impressed because he's considered that the kids hands will get dirty at the park, after all, that's what shirts are for. He grabbed them with the full intention of using them on your kids ass before using the sole diaper as a thanny for the kid who shits first.
DT- Daddy Time (aka STFM slower than f'in molasses)
Me "Can you put Charli in her car seat while I pack the swim bag and diaper bag?"
Daddy "Sure"
I pack the swim bag, pack the diaper bag, change the baby and then decide I have time to throw in a load of laundry, assuming I can actually find the washing machine behind the mountain of dirty clothes. 7 minutes later I walk out the door and see my husband and daughter on the THIRD STEP of our house. Not even kidding you, they made it less than 7 feet in 7 minutes.
Where is my corkscrew?
If you enjoyed this post, please visit my blog for more comedy…. http://tipsymommy2.blogspot.com
Monday, October 8, 2012
Second Time Mamas
So, they have these things
called "mom's groups". Each one varies a bit, however, the
general goal is for new mom's to get together to talk about their kids and
bitch about their husbands.
I made the mistake of
joining a mom's group at my pre natal yoga studio for my first child.
Holy left wing nut jobs. I almost quit the first day when one of
the mom's was tandem nursing her infant and her 3 year old but I did what any
good mom would do....I decided to stick it out so I'd have some good weekly
material for my Facebook posts.
So, TN (tandem nurser) was
not the most fit mommy of the bunch and her beebows (as my neice calls them)
had seen better, and higher, days. The 3 year old was a classic
"snacker"...meaning that she just wanted a little snack every few
minutes. Anyway, there's no way to give this story it's full value
without getting a little graphic. So, the 3 year old decides to get a
little drink so she
goes over to the mom and lays across her lap. She's a little on the lazy
side for a toddler so she asks her mom to throw her some boob so she can wet
her whistle. The toddler tries to just tilt her head to start her
breast milk keg stand but it's too low for her to reach that way (#gravityiswinning). No
joke, the kid grabs the boob like a freeking sippy cup and then starts
looking around at all of us while she's drinking.
Fast forward almost exactly two years later. I decided that the
yoga studio group wasn't really my speed (especially not in an election year)
so I joined another group. This one was for "second time
mama's" (translation, you've got another monster running around in
addition to the one who just ripped you a new one a few short months ago).
I was referred to the group by a friend so I was optimistic. I pull
into the parking lot and see another woman there who I know instantly is the
token crier and very possibly another tandem nurser. The "leader" of the group takes her role
very seriously. A second time mama was
explaining how her daughter starts crying whenever her husband gives her a
bottle and while shes crying he just keeps forcing the bottle on her (which the
mom thinks is obviously a horrible choice). The leader says in all
seriousness "Well, I think we have an issue of aggressive bottling
here". I bust out laughing (the laugh that actually makes sound) and
say "Excuse me sir, you've been charged with aggressive bottling" in
my best "cop" voice. Everyone gives me this horrified look--
you would have thought I walked into the place with a "I love to shake
babies" shirt on. I tried to stifle my giggles but that was like
trying to stop laughing in church. The next woman talks about how she
can't get her baby to take a pacifier. She said she tries to force her to
take it but she won't. Are you freeking kidding me? How was I
supposed to walk away from that softball? So of course I say "I
think we have a case of aggressive pacifying here". I did see two
of the girls crack a legitmate smile so I could tell I was cracking the shell
of these oh so serious second time mamas. Stay tuned for more tales of
moms groups (and all the other crap that happens to me)…
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)