Questionable Choices in Parenting

Laughing at life as a parent so they don't commit me

A Space of Their Own For Real ™

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Canopi

When we were looking for a new house there were a number of “must haves”: more space, more space, room for the kids’ toys, and more space. When we first walked through our new home, Hubby and I looked at each other and smiled because we knew this house had everything we needed and more. The only problem was he saw the large, light filled room in the basement as his future man cave.  You know the drill; he assumed it would be a room he could keep dark and cold, lined with comfy couches and reclining chairs that would swallow him up on the weekends as he watched every major league and college sport imaginable. Sorry, honey! Welcome to your kids’ new toy room! If Mamma can’t pee alone, you surely aren’t getting a man cave!

In our old house, the kids’ toys were creeping into every inch of our living space, and I couldn’t breathe without being assaulted by one of their toys. I was actually giddy when unpacking their new toy room.

“Look at all of these toys in ONE space! I don’t remember how to cook without a scooter, baby doll, and drum set at my feet!”

Mimi’s play kitchen and princesses fit perfectly on one side, a corner for their musical instruments, the books and art table will fit right there, and Monkey’s beloved train table and collection of cars, planes and trucks fit on the other side. I stood back and looked at my organizational masterpiece and breathed a sigh of relief.

Then five minutes later it looked like a hurricane went through the toy room, but hey, they weren’t in my kitchen so just turn off the lights and ignore the mess!

A few weeks ago I was looking around the disaster zone toy room and realized that while my kids’ personalities shine through in their favorite toys, the blank walls just didn’t do this room justice.  So when Canopi and Fathead® suggested I check out the selection of kid’s wall decals, I knew this was the perfect way to make this a space of their own!

My kids would go BANANAS over any of the Disney decals, but it was Bucky, Jake, and Captain Hook that were the big winners! Since we watch Jake and the Neverland Pirates 487 times a day, I wasn’t shocked when the kids started singing the theme song when the box with the decal arrived.

Fatheadkids

Bye-bye boring beige walls!  Hello Jake and the Neverland Pirates fabulouness!!! Look how amazing this decal is! It’s big, bright, colorful, and could be arranged so many ways. Talk about a statement wall! Yay hey, YES way.

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To be honest, I had no idea that Fathead ® made so many different wall decals. It’s not just HUGE sports decals. One we got one up, I wanted to pick more and more. Here are the decals that other bloggers picked:

Bloggerscollage

Aren’t these great? They really have a decal for everyone. Check out Beth from Arrow in the Eye. She picked the Fenway Park Skyline mural. If you are stuck in your home office, at least you have a beautiful scenery, right?

Can you believe I put the entire decal up myself? Well I did AND I had both kids running around demanding chocolate milk and snacks while I worked. So if I can put the decal up under those circumstances, you can do it too!

Seriously, head over to Fathead®  and check out what they have to for you and your family! Seeing my kids burst into song and dance every time they see Bucky was so worth it, “For Real”™!

FATHEAD

Terrible Twos are No Big Deal and Other Lies I Tell Myself

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We are just a few weeks into the “terrible twos” and let me tell you, friends, one of us isn’t going to make it to three. If I were you, I’d put my money on the little one.

Terrible Twos

I used to think the term “terrible two” was a gross exaggeration. Simply put, this was a  term created by someone who liked alliteration and innocently wanted a funny phrase for the little ups and downs of their child’s second year of life. Come on, I already had a two year old, and we sailed through that year pretty much unscathed. Sure there were some rough patches, but all in all, two was a good year with my boy.

But those of us who mock, roll our eyes, and refuse to heed the warnings of other mothers will get a swift kick in the uterus from Mommy Karma, a testy and unforgiving biotch.

Some of the confusion may have been in the name “terrible twos.” Let me offer some more descriptive and effective terms for this stage of life. How about “Dear-God-why-is-she-screaming-again-I-think-the-windows-are-going-to-burst two. Or “Don’t-make-eye-contact-just-give-her-whatever-the-hell-she-wants-and-run two.”  No? How about “If-my-husband-thinks-I-am-having-another-baby-anytime-soon-he-is-as-crazy-as-this-child-that –has-thrown-herself-on-the-floor-and-is-losing-her-shizz-right-now two”.

Every morning I hear the same little voice calling for me from her crib, “Mommy, where are you?” But I never know who I am going to get when I pop my head into her room. Sweet Mimi, sleepy Mimi, silly Mimi, grumpy Mimi, shepard for the devil Mimi.  Even if you get one Mimi out of bed, there is no telling who she will be when you get downstairs. When her dad says good morning to her, any of the following can happen:

  1. She leaps into his arms and sings a song of job to entertain her dad
  2. She bursts into tears and yells that no one is allowed to look at her
  3. She screams for chocolate milk and throws the cup at you if it isn’t pink, doesn’t have enough chocolate, or if you looked at her when warned not to do so
  4. She quietly sits on the couch and watches TV
  5. All of the above in a five-minute span

I’m exhausted and the magic light that is the age of three is so far away. I’m assuming that when she wakes up on her third birthday (in 345 days) she will be normal again, right? RIGHT?

You never know when and where she will unleash the terrible. A few days ago while at the beach, Monkey was catching a few waves with his boogie board. Mimi marched down to the water and morphed into an out of control screaming banshee. She was in full on major meltdown and I tried everything in my mommy bag of tricks—snacks, drinks, toys, a million dollars—just please stop screaming. I tried to give her another boogie board– she didn’t want it. I traded with Monkey and tried to give her his board–she didn’t want it. Turns out, she didn’t want to “boogie”; she was mad that her brother was having fun, and she, apparently being a part of the fun police, needed to put a stop to his fun.

The calm before the storm
The calm before the storm

Is there a terrible two rehab facility? Somewhere where Dr. Drew sits down with two year olds and talks them through these trying times. Now that would make an interesting reality show. Maybe this is a two part therapy and the mommies attend some sort of spa to relieve our tension or receive a lobotomy, whichever is needed most. If this sort of place doesn’t exist, I am creating one today.

Who’s coming with me?

Blogger and Now a Vlogger! Check Me Out!

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So I’m getting real fancy up in here and trying out vlogging. Actually the ladies over at More Than Mommies asked me to join in on their Mommy TMI vlogs and since I am a sucker for peer pressure, you get the pleasure of seeing me ramble in a video! I even tried to fix my hair, but then I went for a walk with the kids to get a free slurpie from 7-11 and well, you will see….

Baby Products That Make My Life Easier

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I am so glad I wrote this piece for the DC Ladies last week because I am up to my eyeballs in unpacking all of the boxes at our new house. Who wants to help me unpack? No seriously, who wants to help? Well if you can’t help, at least head over and read my post, and if you would be so kind, send a little love my way with a few likes. Also, I would LOVE to hear the products you love and make your life easier. CLICK HERE to find me on DC Ladies

The DC Ladies; Parenting-Baby Products That Make My Life Easier

The Gauntlet: Conquering the Inflatable

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The blaring music hurts your ears and you have to scream to talk to the person next to you. The bright lights are flashing strobes that make you dizzy when you walk, and some girl is crying in the corner. No, this isn’t a scene from a trendy club on a Friday night; this is a four-year-old’s birthday party at a bouncy house, and if the ambiance isn’t enough to make you feel a little trippy, the effects from the party will.

Our first visit to this assault-on-your-senses-birthday-party-venue happened when I was über pregnant with Mimi. I was ecstatic to sit for a few hours while Monkey bounced his little self into a birthday party induced coma. I watched my little guy scamper off into one inflatable contraption after another, but it was an ominous one called “The Gauntlet” that should have come with a warning

Warning sign

The Gauntlet was different from the rock walls or round bouncers he happily bounded across during the party because once a kid climbed into a little tube, you couldn’t see them until they reemerged sliding down a huge incline.  Honestly, you would have better luck sending your kid into a crack house hoping they coming out with less baggage and trauma.

Once Monkey disappeared into the tubes of The Gauntlet, I started talking to another party-goers dad. After a few minutes I couldn’t be sure, but I thought I heard faint cries above LAMFO’s Party Rock Anthem.

Do you hear something?

Am I imagining things?

But after a few more cries, I realized it was Monkey panicked and screaming for me! Because I was the size of a whale, climbing in and rescuing him wasn’t an option so I sent the dad I was chatting with in to fish him out.

When Monkey emerged, he was terrified, tear-stained and wanted out of the bouncy house hell.  After a while, he bounced a little in a safer inflatable, but he and I never forgot that dam Gauntlet

After that episode, every time we received a birthday invitation to that bouncy house, I sent up a silent prayer he wouldn’t remember getting stuck or be big enough to conquer the Mount Everest of inflatables.

TheGauntlet

At the next few parties I kept a close eye on him and put up a mom sized roadblock in front of The Gauntlet. This plan worked until I had to wrangle both kids solo at a party and they both took off in different directions. I chased after the little one because she was likely to start a pint-sized revolt and overtake the cake table.

It was like Déjà vu: the music and lights were so bright and loud, someone was probably sent into a seizure, and behind all the ruckus were faint, panicked cries. He was stuck in the dam Gauntlet again. Crap…

This time he knew to get out the way he entered, but he was still upset. I told him he was brave and so smart for getting out when he was stuck. I even offered to join him in The Gauntlet so he knew he could make it through unscathed, but he wanted no parts of that solution.

Two weeks later, his best buddy had his party at the same place, and I was fully prepared to bring a pair of scissors. You know, in case The Gauntlet looked at me the wrong way.    The party was in full swing when Monkey booked it over to The Gauntlet. I panicked, but this time something pretty awesome happened.

He conquered The Gauntlet all on his own, and his face when he came sliding down to the bottom was priceless. I imagine this is what a Heisman Trophy Winner’s mom feels like. OK, that’s a bit much, but it was pretty awesome.  My pal Coco caught this photo of Monkey and I celebrating his success.

Celebrate!

He ran through The Gauntlet so many times, he was exhausted and needed a break.

Sotired

 Maybe getting stuck in an inflatable isn’t the worst thing that can happen to your kid, but when they overcome a fear, now that is pretty rad.

 

It’s Just a Little Crush, but I am NOT Ready for It

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I knew it would happen eventually. I just wasn’t prepared for it to happen so soon.  Of course I wouldn’t be the only girl in his life forever. Dammit, I should have kept him inside today. I let my son out of my sight at my in-laws for two minutes, and in that time, he caught a glimpse of the home wrecker neighbor girl.

Hand Holding

I get it, she is adorable with her wild blonde hair, the fact that she is slightly older than him is intriguing, and she has a bit of a rebellious side never wearing shoes and refusing to wear a helmet. Apparently the boy has a type.

He has tons of friends that are girls, and I usually have to remind him to not play so rough. Girls don’t like to wrestle. Don’t throw dirt on girls. Girls don’t appreciate headlocks. But the silly grin plastered on his face when she crossed the yard told me this wasn’t the normal playmate.

When I saw this shoeless gal stroll up to my boy, I was not prepared for what would unfold before my eyes. Or at the very least, if I did have to prepare myself, I hoped he would hold off on this behavior until middle school when I could ignore it or hide in the kitchen drinking wine straight out of the bottle.

It started with Monkey laughing a little too loud at her jokes, agreeing to play games he usually doesn’t like to play, and attempting to put on her brother’s roller blades because she wanted to roller blade. Do kids even roller blade anymore you ask? Apparently they do, and I had to pull Monkey out of a pair before he fell and broke his neck.

After I filled the water table for the third time, I banned him from tipping it over again, but she giggled and laughed when he Hulked out on the table tossing it to the side and spilling the contents down the deck.  Apparently her siren call was too powerful and the water went soaring across my feet in defiance. Now I see your game, sir. I vaguely remember your father pulling the same stunts, but his may have involved beer and a funnel. Different tools, same effect.

Then as if he was staring in his own version of Jackass, the boy grabbed his little red bike and started peddling it down a grassy hill. He yelled to get her attention just before he “crashed” on the bike. His dramatic “fall” was followed up by rolling down the rest of this hill and laying at the bottom for a while. Just enough time for her to come running to see if he was OK.

When she asked me “Can Monkey come play in my house?”  I didn’t tell her “NO!” too forcefully because I want to shelter my boy or I have a strange obsession with my son  (maybe a little), but  it was because after watching his “moves” and him work his “game” I needed to save that kid from him own devices. Plus it was dinnertime.

He has plenty of years to have crushes, but I CANNOT, Dear LORD, I CANNOT handle it now. I’m not sure I can ever really handle it. So until I am ready, the only wild haired blonde he needs is his life is his Mamma. Wow! If that isn’t a phrase that says this kid will need therapy, I don’t know what is.

Screw it, I’ll pay for his therapy I’m sticking to my guns.

Parenting: Five Ways I Know I am Doing It Right!

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I’ve often said that if I can get my kids through adulthood not marrying someone I hate or doing crystal meth, I will call this parenting gig a success; however, I have to wait a long time for that payoff. So, I am going to take the little winning moments where I can get them.

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  1. My kids have just the right amount of unhealthy attachment– Monkey loves school, Mimi will happily stay with her favorite babysitter, and both kids will jump into an inflatable jumpy thing or ball pit as soon as they lay eyes on it, but they always, always look back to make sure I am there. Boo boos—they need me. They want to be put to bed—they need me. A snuggle on the couch—me. Waking up in the middle of the night and need someone to vomit on- always me.
  2. When they get a snack or a treat, they always ask for one for their sibling- It doesn’t matter if it is a handful of Goldfish crackers at home, a lollipop at the hair salon, or a balloon at a birthday party, both kids always ask for one for the other—always. *Drops mic* *Walks off stage* My job is done here, folks.
  3. Monkey has no problem defending his sister’s honor-While I do not condone violence, I don’t take kindly to older kids picking on my babies. Like the day some older punk was pushing Mimi on the playground. Before I could run across the playground and go all Mamma Bear on that creep, Monkey jumped off the slide, ran over to the hoodlum, shoved the kid down and yelled in his face “Don’t touch my sister!”  Pretty bad-ass for a three year old.
  4. Strangers always tell me I have “happy kids”- My response is usually, “lucky you, you just missed their epic temper tantrum.” But in all honestly, the kids are really happy and when they show up somewhere, they always have a smile on their faces and are ready to party (as long as your have chocolate milk, that is)
  5. They have a really weird and hilarious sense of humor-Whether it is the boy walking into the room announcing “Mommy, I can’t hear you. I’ve got a banana in my ear.” That one kills me! I make sure to buy bananas every week just so he can tell that joke with a prop; the potassium is just an added bonus. Or if is the girl that demands to wear sunglasses, a hat, furry boots or all three to make the most mundane tasks,like eating breakfast, fabulous, the kids are strange little birds….and they are all mine!

These may be small victories, but I will take it. After all,

Mom Tested: Commercials That Will Make You Ugly Cry

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Having kids really wrecks you for life, and I’m not talking about the whole big head coming through the vagina incident. No, I am talking about something much more traumatic. Post children, I am unable to watch regular television without fear of bursting into hysterics over a lame TV commercial. Maybe it is a culmination of too many sleepless nights, or there are too many hormones still floating around after giving birth. Whatever the reason, there is no known cure. So grab the tissues and brace yourself for the tears. It’s about to get ugly cry up in here.

fuzzy-tv

1. The GE Sonogram Commercial

The song, her face, the baby’s face, and the awkward photo bomb from the dad at the end means I am not only sobbing right along with that new mom, but I am also begging my husband to impregnate me so I can relive this moment.

2. Verizon Mother’s Day Commercial

Dear Verizon, are you trying to kill me? Seriously, my heart exploded in my chest when I saw this one. A Mamma watching her boy grow up, push away her touch, and move away. Why don’t you just have the family dog get hit by a car, huh? It’s all too much. I can’t take it, but I am going to watch it again. Call me in a few hours to make sure I am OK.

3. P&G Thanks, Mom Olympic Commercial

Screw you, P&G. Screw you.

4. Target Acceptance Commercial

I don’t know why this one makes me so verklempt, but seeing these kids reactions to getting into college is amazing and consistently renders me a blubbering mess. I would try to take a stand and say I am boycotting Target for putting me in this predicament, but we all know, that is a load of crap.

5. Baby Driver by Subaru

Wait for it….wait for it…BOOM! She’s a teenager. Waahhhh! Someone find my kids, I need to weep into their little heads. And while you are at it, get me a freaking Subaru.

Tell me, what commercials make you cry?