Your Children Are Listening

Oct 20, 2014 by

I am fat, ugly, and short. I wish I was beautiful, or even just acceptable like everyone else, but I know that it will never be.

At varying times in my life, I was told that it was a pity that I was so short, that it was unfortunate that I inherited my dad’s bulging eyes or my mother’s radish-shaped legs. I was told that if only my hips were a little narrower, then maybe my clothes would fit better; if my nose weren’t so wide, then I’d have a prettier face. My recessed jaw was blamed on the fact that my teeth were originally too large for my mouth, causing me to have four teeth pulled and get braces, which in turn pushed my chin and jaw inward. While these things were never meant to be mean, were never said all at once, and were usually uttered as passing comments in response to something in particular, anyone who thinks that children forget old comments by the time new comments are uttered is fooling themselves. As a child when I put it all of these facts together, I felt like I was the imperfect child with absolutely no redeeming physical qualities.

The Birthday Gift

Oct 13, 2014 by

Today (well, by the time this post publishes, it will be YESTERDAY) is my birthday. It’s been a crazy few weeks, and I basically forgot that it was approaching. My kids have started a new school and are having a tough time transitioning to their new digs, I simultaneously started a new job which is exciting but creates logistical challenges as it relates to childcare, we’ve had an extended houseguest, and my son has been very sick (I won’t get into the illness itself, but look up “Henoch-Schonlein Purpura” and you’ll understand that this has taken every last ounce of energy and free time from us and from my son).

Pop Tarts for Breakfast? OK!

Sep 29, 2014 by

How do you like to eat your Poptarts? I like to toast them and separate the layers, eating the pastry first and saving the crunchy, sugary frosting for last. Mmmmmmmmmm.

“You know you shouldn’t feed the kids sugary foods for breakfast…”

I looked at The Commenter (hint: they are related to me, but not by blood…) with a look that said, “BITE ME.”

My mornings are nuts, with a capital “N”. My children don’t go to bed until about 8pm (or later) and by the time 6:45AM rolls around, I have to DRAAGGGGGGG my kids out of bed. Already, this is 20 minutes later than it really should be, and my kids spend the next 20 minutes screaming “SLEEPY!!!” as they pull the covers over their heads and plead with me to turn off the lights. By the time we’re dressed, and pottied, it’s at least 7:15. By that time, I have about 30 minutes to brush their teeth, get them fed, hydrated, faces wiped, shoes on, backpacks on…you know the deal. It’s crucial to be on time; otherwise, I hit all the schoolbuses, am late dropping them off for school, and end up being 15 minutes late for work.

Bittersweet Change

Sep 22, 2014 by

I just rocked my kids’ world, and not really in a good way.

I knocked my kids off their little preschool pedestals – I took them from a place where they were Big Dogs, Big Kids on Campus, King/Queen of the Castle and moved them to a place where they would be required to prove themselves all over again. I took them from a world that was warm and secure, and “threw” them into the big wide world…well, as big as it could be for a four year old.

I moved them to a new school.

A Story about a Stork, A Mom, and Two Babies

Sep 15, 2014 by

Credit: © Can Stock Photo Inc. / zdanu4ka

Credit: © Can Stock Photo Inc. / zdanu4ka

My son is obsessed with stories – not fairy-tale or illustrated stories that you find in books, but the kind that you tell while sitting around a campfire; the kind that you are forced to use your mind’s eye to illustrate.

Most nights before bed, we’ll sit down and either hubby or I will make up a short story. It always includes a boy named Bubba and a girl named Bree Bree (and nine times out of ten, it also usually includes farting and stinky feet). Last night, my son announced that he was going to tell the story.

So here, it is. A story about a stork, a mom, and two babies from the mind of a four-year-old boy (embellished by Mom for coherence…although, I have to say that most of the details are his…)


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