What Does This Make Me?

Holy Cow Moment:  I'm awake all the time. 

I'm awake at night but I'm not a vampire-the non-sparkly kinds. I'm awake in the wee hours of the morning-aka dawn yet  not a morning person. I stay awake thoroughly the day on little to no sleep , but I'm no Zombie -or not the horror story versions. So what am in then? Oh right. A mom :-) 

Happy Mother's Day a few days early!! 

Yes I Have Kids

If you found play dough in your invitation or if you come to my house and see Crayon on every glass surface or stickers stuck to the windows then you guessed it - I have kids.

That's it. Every day I see more obvious signs I'm a mom, but I'll add those later. Right now I need to go wrestle something from my toddler.

The Silverware Heist

Holy Cow moment ?:  Where has all the silverware gone?  I wonder to myself where in the world have all my spoons disappeared too as I try and eat cereal with a fork.

I was standing in the living room diligently sorting through baby clothes.  What can my new son wear vs. what needs to be donated, tossed, or kept in a box that I will never open again BUT swear I need?  While I got teary eyed over my daughters tiny newborn outfits I hear a familiar rattling.  Metal on metal jingling.  Creeping around the corner of my kitchen I don’t see anything, but I do hear the noise louder.  Then I hear the thunk of a drawer closing.  I move a little slower into the kitchen and around the island to see the tiny culprit.  My toddler, bless her little self, is holding a spoon and dipping it in her cup of water. 

What should go through my head is the concern that my child is growing independent.  I should be worried that she is taking things upon herself.  Instead I feel relieved that I now know where all the silverware is going.  I never knew that I would need to worry about silverware being used to eat cheese, water, crackers, and whatever else a toddler deems worthy of adult eating utensils.  I sigh.  One more thing to note of your child.  Normal everyday items that adults forget to see the value in will soon become a toy.  You silverware will be abducted and re-purposed for hitting your stove, eating water from a cup, and something to bang on your wooden table – usually the fork with pointy side down.

Holy Cow the excitement through a  child’s eyes.

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If you don’t know about my authors blog please feel free to visit at Michelle Ziegler Author OR www.michellezieglerauthor.com

Tired Mom

Holy Cow Moment #?:  The holidays are stressful - they are not just worse.

I finally know why you never see a mom or dad of a toddler running around refreshed during any breaks.  Add a holiday to the mix and things only seem to get worse. 

Here is how my week off started. 
On the first day of break my toddler gave to me - a stomach bug.  So while being pregnant I was throwing up everything.  Yeay!
On the second day of vacation my toddler gave to me - one sick husband and I was barely recovered while we had to chase her anyway.
On the third day of vacation my toddler gave to me - the joys of not sleeping because now she was sick and couldn't sleep. 
On the fourth day of vacation - which is now Christmas Eve - my toddler gave to me the joys of taking care of her fever and cranky little butt. 

Anyway - you get the point.  So while fighting a stomach bug, taking care of a sick husband and child, I then had to make all our gifts for his family.  By the time Christmas got here I was ready to take a nap and still had to smile pretty for the camera. 

Note to self - Toddlers are unpredictable and will share everything.  Sometimes this is great, while most of the time not so much.  This is why you see a tired parent around the holidays.

I've Got my Love to Keep Me Warm ...

Holy Cow Moment#:  I hate the idea of leaving my kids and it's worse on those cold winter days. 

It’s snowing and all I want to do is crawl into bed holding my little girl and ignore the world and it’s problems.  Okay – my husband can cuddle too.  The point is I don’t want to leave.  Snow days are made for hot cocoa and Christmas movies.  Cuddling under blankets and snuggling with loved ones.  But, alas, instead I am at work.  Trudging through the snow was not my idea of a good way to spend two hours this morning.

The one thing that I never expected was the fear of my own death.  Not the fear of dying, but the fear of accidentally leaving my child.  This new fear has made driving seem more treacherous and worse yet it has made me realize why I have such a hard time with leaving my child to anyone else. 

It isn’t because there aren’t people that I trust.  There are a select few – you know who you are.  But rather, it’s because I don’t want to let her down.  I hate the idea of not being there when she needs me.  I almost think I have a fear of abandonment myself and therefore I can’t leave her alone more than necessary.  Does this make me a bad parent?  I guess it depends on who you ask.  My child does go to daycare so it isn’t as if she will never get away from me. But after I get her, why would I waste time by sending her off to someone else instead of being a mommy and interacting with my kid if I have the choice?

Everyone has their own parenting strategies and no one is really wrong.  So don’t judge me and I won’t judge you. 

Child Donation

 Holy Cow Moment #?: I survived!!!

Last night was one of THOSE nights. The nights where you really consider child donation or even putting them up on ebay.
 
It was one of those nights where I had too much to do and not enough me to go around.  The second we got home was supposed to be for dinner and baking.  Instead the cookies didn’t turn out – anyone know why cookies go paper thin straight from the fridge to the oven??  Anyway from there it was cranky baby central.  I figured I was lucky that she ended up going down for a nap – for 20 minutes.  Then it was go time while I still had to come up with a cookie recipe for one of those awful cookie exchanges.
 
Let me just say that I normally love everything holiday until someone says “please bake 7 dozen cookies” and you barely know them as it is.  Yeah. 
 
From there my little wonder wanted to dance to the musical ornaments on the tree.  Cute right? Well unless you want to bake – I use the term want loosely. After coaxing her to allow me to leave the tree party I attempted to get her to eat and maybe watch a movie.  That worked for about… oh 10 minutes.  Dinner ended up on the floor mostly.  Now she is going to help me.  Oh goody.
 
Pulling out the stool so she can climb to counter height seemed like a great option, except she wanted to be held.  Have you ever cracked an egg with a baby in one arm?  About twenty minutes later the new dough is ready to go so I force my child to stand on her own two feet – I know I am awful.  I heard all about it. 
 
From here it is a balancing act of getting cookie balls onto cookie-sheets while holding her back to get them in the oven.  After that I have 8 minutes to get another batch ready – or I can clean up the yogurt that was just sprayed around the kitchen. Choices, choices.  After that I have to again restrain child from hot oven and then remove her from the stool that she has now gotten her head stuck in. The night just continues like this for two more hours.
 
By 10 cookies are baked, I am beat, and my child is still running circles around the dogs – who by the way are exhausted even.
 
Merry freaking Christmas days.

Manic Mom Sunday

Holy Cow Moment: I thought I hated Sundays before.

Having kids has made me dread the end of the weekend worse than before.  I hate leaving my precious child – while she’s asleep anyway.  This morning I quietly push her bedroom door open expecting to see her curled up, butt in the air, asleep as I do each morning before I go to work.  I always wake her and give her some applesauce or yogurt, change her diaper, and give her a few minutes of cuddle time before I have to say goodbye and head out.  This morning a tiny figure was patiently waiting for me on the edge of her bed.  The moment she saw me enter her room she very meticulous scrambled off her toddler bed to greet me.  It was the sweetest moment to realize she looks forward to our short time together in the mornings too.  This does not however erase the rush of Sunday nights.

Sunday’s were once a day to enjoy your last day at home.  Now they are overrun with making meals, doing laundry, picking up the trail of destruction to pretend like I cleaned, spend quality time with my child and maybe the husband, run to the grocery store and stores in general, come home do more laundry, and so on and so forth.  Someday I will be adding homework to that list.  I guess what it comes down to, is that with kids there are no “quiet days” just “quiet hours” when the children sleep and so you should be too.  But with all the crazy going on the thing that makes Sundays the worst is knowing that the next day you will be returning to work and leaving your little ones for most of the day.

Holy cow a little person can make Mondays worse than they were before.A second is only going to make leaving harder... darn it all.

You Have Got to be Kidding- Man Sue's Wife for Ugly Baby?

Holy Cow Moment ?:  What is wrong with the world today?  China is a little backwards on their woman's rights and having children, but this seems a little off. Click the link to read the story. MSN Man Sue's Wife

If I ever meet a man who claims his child is ugly, or tired to blame his wife for an ugly child, I believe I speak for all woman here, but we would ban together and make sure said man never, EVER, has another child again. 

If you have a wonderful husband make sure to hug him today.  If you got rid of a man like this, Kudos!!!!

Seriously men, who in the heck do you think you are?  Not all men are created equal and obviously this one was scraping the bottom of the barrel.  How much does it cost to send hate mail to China?

When “Advice” Goes Wrong

ADVISORY: This is a rant.  Do not take anything personal - but if you notice you may be a culprit or a victim then you may laugh with me.  Culprit's learn from your mistakes.

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Holy Crap Cow Moment ?: When is enough enough? How do you stop the "advice diarrhea?"

  How much advice is useful?  Well, when the advice in unsolicited sometimes none.  While you are pregnant you hear everyone’s thoughts and opinions, which can get annoying, but what happens after the baby is here?

 

For the most part you will always hear the “if you just did this, that wouldn’t happen.”  Although most likely a lot of parents you know or run into will say “oh, we had that same issue and this is how we dealt…”  Which is advice based on experience, okay, I think that can be helpful.

Sadly though there are some that step over the bounds and criticize.  Maybe criticize isn’t what they mean to do but when they can’t approve of a single thing that you are doing to raise your child that is exactly what they are doing.  Easy to overlook one or two comments, harder when you reach the fiftieth.

How do you handle the grandparent/parent/family member/friend/etc that know everything? 

• Sure you can ignore the advice, but at some point they get offended.  (Yes I know, I tried)
•  So next step, explain how your parenting is different.  Now you are being disrespectful and saying they are wrong (which you probably are but not on purpose. People giving the ‘advice’ usually will take any disagreement of their views as rude). 
• Maybe you can avoid them as a last resort?  No, that means you are being rude and once again, disrespectful.

But what other passive alternatives are there?  Now, the above is assuming you care about the relationship with the over-advising party.

If you answered no to that last statement then my suggestion is to block the caller ID, avoid any place that person may hang out, and when all else fails run them down with any motorized option of your choice – by accident of course.
 

I would like to remind involved parties that advice is an option, not a must.  Too bad this rant will fall onto the ears of those that have the same issue opposed to those that are guilty of the crime.
 

Dictionary.com says:

 ad·vice [ad-vahys] Show IPA noun

1. an opinion or recommendation offered as a guide to action, conduct, etc.: I shall act on your advice.

2. a communication, especially from a distance, containing information: Advice from abroad informs us that the government has fallen. Recent diplomatic advices have been ominous.

3. an official notification, especially one pertaining to a business agreement: an overdue advice.

I Just Said What?

Holy Cow Moment ?: If anyone were to read my text messages to my husband they'd either think I was kinky or disturbed.

Here are the last few text messages to the hubby:
"we have pee"
"just had a poop. It was thick too."
"just ate 2.5 chickens"
"more pee. Thank God."

So let me say that our daughter has had diarrhea and vomiting for three days. She was becoming severely dehydrated. The above maps out that she is starting to get back to normal,but honestly I never thought I could describe poop-or that I would ever study it. Another conversation had the phrase "she pooped but it was more pudding then solid." Sorry pudding, no offense.

As far as the chickens go, please I live in suburbia. No deep woods oddities here. She ate a couple of nuggets that my husband lovely refers to a simply-chickens.

A little more insight into what parents talk about when one is away and the others trying to keep them informed is fluid intake or dosages. Bu I now see that for what it is...I'm not only into odd fetishes but I'm a drug addict.

"use a syringe"
"try a teaspoon"

I am referring to ways of getting our daughter hydrated when she doesn't want to drink.  But these two phrases alone, to anyone else, would have made someone seriously question us.

Either way the results are the same.  When did this become my life?  

Holy Cow we talk about poop and pee and get excited about it.  Never in my life did I imagine being excited over bodily functions. 

The Movie Rotation

In our house we have a rotation of 6 movies.  Winnie the Pooh-The movie, Rio, Tangled, Monsters Inc, Despicable Me and How to Train Your Dragon.  Today though is momentous! We are trying to introduce the <drum roll> The Lorax. 

Holy Cow Moment ?:  When did I become ever so lucky to know EVERY word to EVERY song or line to the popular children’s movies.

I think we are lucky because my daughter knows nothing of the annoying shows that are like kid crack.  The down side to her not knowing of Dora or Diego or something about oddly shaped what’s-it, is that I have to watch the same movies over, and OVER, and OVER, AND OVER again.  I feel like maybe I am adding something new to my character though. 

What is really sad about this whole situation, is once you have watched a movie- no a cartoon too much you start to analyze it. 

Such as in Tangled. Rapunzel says.  “You can tear this tower apart brick by brick and you will never find it.”  She is of course talking about Flin’s satchel.  The statement is a little off.  If he tore the place down brick by brick at some point he would find the satchel… he just would. It’s a fact.

In Rio – ignoring the talking birds.  Who in their right might is going to travel with some crazy bird guy to Rio De Jenerio.  Hasn’t she seen the movie ‘City of God’?  Aside from kidnapping and murder fears, (thank you society for instilling paranoia in me) how did the bird guy find her?  Blue fell off a truck – I doubt that he was registered anywhere.  Or is there a bird registry?

Now in Despicable Me – ignoring… well most of the film since there is no way minions are real, or are they?  Supposedly the minions have families and are getting paid.  So how is it that they suddenly can afford to give up their paychecks to build a rocket…what about their families?

I have a million more questions but then it occurred to me.  I am analyzing a cartoon because by the hundredth time it has run its course on entertainment value and I need to create some kind of new drama.  

Oh the life of a parent. The things we do to make our kids smile – or to shut them up.  Whatever your reason, please join me in the movement to keep our mental sanity and converse with me about something other than cartoons and what color my Childs poop is.

101 ways to mess up your kid…

Disclosure:

All persons mentioned below are based on real people.  No one was harmed in the writing of this story (or at least that I know of). 

This post is not in direct response to any person in my life.  If you think this is about you, you are wrong and could be looked at as self centered (yes this is a joke do not take it personally).  Now who’s the one with the issues?  You may now read.

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Let me count the ways - of how you can mess up your child. 

Holy Cow moment ?:  I did not know that a personal trait could or would cause so much grief.  In your life you are bound to have a few traits or as I like to see them as “issues” from your dear childhood.

Why does this seem to be drama for people in my life?  If I cannot do it myself I feel like I failed, my issue not yours.  I am working on this but for the most part is this really that big of an impact on your life? When you go to someone’s house the last thing that should happen is for you to be enslaved.  You are a guest…you do not and should not need to help.  Sure I offer help at others homes because I don’t mind, but I am never offended if they say no.  I assume they have it figured out or could be like me and just can’t accept the help.  I am down with that J

Our parents can screw us up just as bad as society.  I do not know who to blame more.  We learn from what our parents did wrong and ensure we will not make those mistakes with our little ones.  Too bad we will find new ways to mess up our children.  It’s a vicious cycle.  But apparently the most appalling trait, to some, is that you cannot accept their help.  If I am going to drown, feel free to send me a life-preserver, otherwise don’t panic.  Someday I will be able to accept help.  I can attest to that already.  I have accepted help at two holiday parties – I turned them into potlucks! 

So, is not being able to accept help, not self help, not criticism, but honest to goodness help – as in here lay the meat and cheese out on a try really the worst trait your friend could have?   I guess I don’t know since I am the one with the “issue.” 

Maybe I can use the ‘101 ways’ to discuss everything that I know is wrong with myself.  I doubt it will fix anything but I could use it as a resume for potential friends.  “Here are my issues, what are yours?”  Sort like a compatibility test. 

 


Yes, having a child is surely the most beautifully irrational act that two people in love can commit.  ~Bill Cosby, Fatherhood