Archive for the ‘motherhood’ Tag

What it Means to Me

February 02 2010 · comment 6 Comments
Posted in: Daily · Tags: , ,

Parenting is:

  • running on 5 hours of sleep, if I’m lucky
  • a permanent imprint on the bottom of my foot of a car/block/the hell was that?
  • repetition, repetition, repetition
  • cleaning puddles of pee out of the carpet
  • kissing imaginary boo-boos
  • little hands everywhere, in everything
  • partaking in the hundredth game of peek-a-boo
  • a slimy coating of snot and spit
  • never eating in peace unless the kids are in bed
  • same with using the bathroom (see above)
  • a movie watched in 10 minute non-consecutive spurts
  • always being “on”
  • taking bizarre satisfaction from digging boogers out of a nose
  • dealing with more bodily fluids than I ever thought possible
  • keeping a supply of super glue on hand
  • fighting over/under/through/just eat your goddamn dinner
  • happy streaking
  • sneakily extracting batteries from the jam-pencils-in-my-ears toys
  • having at least one “I GIVE UP!” moment a day
  • a house decorated in cheap, colorful plastic
  • “Is that poop? Or chocolate? I hope it’s chocolate. Here, smell it.”
  • calculated by the number of uses you can find for baby wipes
  • a lot of potty humor
  • mostly guessing
  • fickled, questioning, frustrating
  • accepting, ridiculous, the best gig I’ve ever had

Too Bad I Can’t Use My Super Power to Win the Lottery

January 28 2010 · comment 1 Comment
Posted in: The Kids · Tags: ,

“Be careful, guys!”

This is one of the more common phrases I say in a day. Not that anyone pays attention. When Buzz is practicing his Evil Knievel moves off a chair or Abby toddles onto the couch. I sigh and wince, urging them down once more.

I’m not a super hero, but my power is looking into the future. I can witness accidents before they happen. The boys run around in circles and I envision one of their little heads conking a table. Buzz takes off down the steps and I see skinned knees. They chase each other through the house and I think of Abby getting trampled.

“For the love of… Guys!”

There are sharp corners on our furniture that I’m terrified of. Obviously, we weren’t thinking baby proof when we made the purchases. It’s great that the kids want to play together, however rough they are, but I’m a nervous wreck the entire time. Can’t they just sit nicely and read a book? I’ve always been a worrier, but motherhood has soared it to an all-time high.

I know I can’t keep them safe forever. There are going to be bruises and cuts and scrapes and even gashes that I can’t control. When I can, though, I’d like to keep the blood and broken bones to a minimum. My super power, much like Spiderman’s, is a gift and a burden.

“Guys! Didn’t I just tell you to be careful?”

It’s almost like they want to get hurt.

I Get It Now

January 19 2010 · comment 2 Comments
Posted in: Me Myself · Tags: ,

My mother isn’t known for having the best memory. If I told her something yesterday, I’ll no doubt have to repeat myself today. This goes with dates as well. Even growing up, she would get our birthdays confused. My brother’s is on the 22nd, mine on the 27th of different months, but I’ve had to correct her more often than I can count over the years. In truth, I was always a little put-off by this. If my mom can remember wheres she was when Elvis died, shouldn’t she know the moment her children entered the world? Maybe I’m biased, but shouldn’t there have been rainbows shining and hearts bursting and birds singing to mark the occasion?

I was making an appointment for the kids’ well-child checkups. The receptionist was looking up Abby’s file first, by birthdate. July 26, 2008 is what I told her.

After looking for a few seconds, she relayed, “I don’t see her here.”

We’ve been going to this pediatrician since Abby was a newborn. I know she’s there. I let her look for a few more seconds before I realized. Did I? I didn’t, did I? The 26th is Buzz’s birthday, in April. Abby’s is the 24th. Isn’t it? I even found myself wishing I had their birth certificates in front of me.

“Um, I think I gave you the wrong day. Try July 24th, 2008.”

“Yep, there she is.”

I’m sorry, Mom. I get it know. I see many long years ahead of getting these two days utterly confused. Abby and Buzz, I apologize in advance. I do love you both very much, there may have even been birds singing when you were born, but motherhood has made my brain shrivel.

Golden Globes

January 18 2010 · comment 4 Comments
Posted in: Daily · Tags: ,

Last night was the Golden Globes and I usually find myself compelled to tune in, which I had every intention of doing. I had watched a bit of the red carpet arrivals, oohing and aahing and ughing over the designer duds and expensive hairstyles that were frizzing in the Hollywood rain.

I was geared up, ready.

We had just finished eating dinner, and I was going to clean up a little in the 5 minutes before showtime. I hate leaving a really messy kitchen because that just leaves more work for me in the morning. Except in that brief time, J found the remote control and flipped through to see what else was on. A few channels in, and Buzz’s attention was caught.

“Turtles!”

The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Crap.

Buzz perched himself on the couch, his milk in one hand, the Toy Story book he had been skimming in the other. He sat captivated. Changing the channel to a boring awards show now would break his heart.

“Ninja turtles!”, he exclaimed, pointing at the television.

Yes, Buzz, I know.

So much for the Golden Globes. I’m sure I didn’t miss much anyway, right?

Puberty Revisited

January 15 2010 · comment 8 Comments
Posted in: Me Myself · Tags: , ,

30 is the new 15, apparently. At least as far as acne is concerned. In fact, I think there are more pimples covering my face right now than ever before in my life. I’m not sure if this is just an age thing, or something else I can blame as an after effect of growing 3 children within 7 years. I mean, I blame everything else on pregnancy, might as well blame this, too. A constant, 50 pound heavier beer gut: PREGNANCY! Crazy rollercoaster moodswings: PREGNANCY! Weird things happening to my hair: PREGNANCY! Mt. Vesuvius-size zits: PREGNANCY! Stubbed toe: PREGNANCY! I know I haven’t been pregnant for almost 18 months, but still: PREGNANCY!

I even have zits on my neck, for crying out loud.

The smattering on my face are another story, but unless I wear a turtleneck 24/7 the protruding beast taking over my neck is tougher to cover up. Buzz, ever the kind soul, noticed this at its first sign of bright red eruption.

“Boo-boo!”, he exclaimed, brow furrowed, pointing even for good measure.

“No, not a boo-boo.”, I sighed in self-conscious reassurance.

He didn’t want to take no for an answer, though, and kept on. “Boo-boo! Boo-boo! Boo-boo!” Really, kid. It was like a taunt at this point. It’s not good for one’s already fragile self-confidence to feel like they’re being judged by a little boy who picks his nose.

“No, Buzz, not a boo-boo. It’s a pimple. You’ll learn all about them in about 10 years, OK?” Then, if you’re anything like me, you’ll wonder what the hell is going on when they show up in force another 17 years after that. But thank you very much for noticing.