Let’s face it, babies and toddlers aren’t stupid. They figure out how to walk, talk, eat, climb, and do everything else. Surely… they can figure out toilet training at a relatively young age if we encourage them? It’s only natural that they would want to stop pooing and peeing on themselves. I recently read an article about a woman who was against putting in any extra effort to toilet train her children and only let her kids toilet train when they were practically begging her. I just about gagged. Read the rest of this entry
Category Archives: Baby
Today, a friend of mine welcomed twin baby boys to the world. Wow, so amazing, I mean, what even is ‘birth?!‘ Oh, I don’t even know… it’s just a miracle, that’s what. The few days before birth, the birth itself and then the few days after. It’s such a precious place in time and space, and it only happens once a lifetime. Read the rest of this entry
I was cleaning up an ant massacre, by death of strawberry jam, in my the kitchen, when Goldie started yanking on my pants yelling, “UP! UP!” Margo was in the living room twirling around and swinging a hula hoop on her arm screaming, “LOOOOOOK, WATCH ME!!!” Then, Goldie’s nagging grew more urgent, she tapped her groin and exclaimed, “PEE! PEE!. She’d gone a little in her undies already, but I knew that if I quickly took her, she would finish in the potty. So, I dropped what I was doing, picked her up gingerly and took her to the potty I have laying around in the living room. I skirted around the twirling dervish, only to go past and get whacked in the back by the hula hoop. I ripped the little one’s pants off and plopped her on the potty, just in the knick of time. Then, I dodged more hula hooping to grab a tissue to wipe the pee bum and then I thought to myself, “How much money would I be making if I actually got paid for doing this?” Ok, maybe I don’t need to get paid, but I think I at least deserve a medal… maybe you can relate to one or more of the following and you deserve a medal too?
1. I’ve licked food off of another person’s hands and face. In fact, that’s what I’m doing in the photo because I had nothing to wipe Goldie’s mouth off with. I’ve eaten slobbery offerings of half eaten food from the dirty hands of a toddler. Honorable mention is the food that I’ve eaten off of a kid’s shirt and/or off the floor.
2. I, and practically everything else in my house, has, at one point, been pooped on, peed on, and/or vomited on, and that is not all. It can happen almost any time and any where, but it tends to happen most as soon as someone has clean clothes on or I have just put fresh sheets on the bed. Clean. Mess. Clean. Mess. Repeat.
3. I’ve picked a nose that wasn’t my own. That is all.
4. I respond to, “Why“, “Mama“, or “No” eight hundred and seventy times a day. Ninety percent of the time, I respond to incessant questions politely. Does anyone want to come over to have their ear chewed off by a four year old? Even for just an hour? Please… Oh, I’m also a mind reader… not just anyone can understand your toddler tell you about their day.
5. My house is *real* messy. Not that *fake* messy that some people try to say is real messy. Like this one post gone viral about why a lady couldn’t be your friend if you don’t like her messy house… and then the photo had three stray toys laying on the floor. I’m sorry, that does not cut it. If you come to my house, I won’t ask you to fold the laundry, because I only shove the laundry in the drawers. And, there is a difference between messy and dirty. My house is only messy, thus the medal.
6. I. wipe. butts. all. day.
7. I feed my family *something* everyday and eventually do all the dishes. Don’t open my cupboards, because you might end with an avalanche of half opened bags of pasta on your head. You might find mystery hard stuff on the spoon I give you with your soup, but, I promise, it has been washed, so you can just scrape the mystery stuff off with your finger. And, don’t think that we eat healthy and organic everyday either. Sometimes we eat cereal for dinner, and I’m pretty ok with that.
8. I’ve carried a crying baby on my back AND held a screaming banshee big kid in my arms at the same time, while simultaneously walking down a crowded street in broad daylight. If ever I needed to have my ego busted… well, there you go.
9. I’ve sustained personal injuries often. I’ve been head butted on the bridge of my nose. I’ve also been kicked or accidentally whacked in the in the jaw so that my teeth bashed together. I’ve had my eye poked at and had many more such accidental/sometimes intentional injuries, mostly while I was half or fully asleep.
10. Last, but not least, I freaking love my kids so much that I do it all over again every day without any recognition or any medal.
There have been a plethora of overdue babies around me lately, so I had to write this post.
I worked until four days before my due date with Margo. Each and every day that I made it to work, everyone would say the same thing as I waddled in the door, “Oh, you’re here, we weren’t sure if you would make it today! You must be so over it.” Read the rest of this entry
My kids have never worn ‘pajamas‘. Let me tell you why. Read the rest of this entry