Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Saturday, August 22, 2009
I wish I could be one of those moms who always looks freshly shampooed, dresses in the cutest, latest fashions, has the cutest haircut (she never has roots). Her makeup is flawless, her car is always spotless and her dog never gets fleas. Her children eat organic. Hot dogs are strictly verboten. She runs her own business out of her basement – selling adorably chic children’s clothes, fabulous handmade jewelry, she has a basement. She has sex with her husband at least twice a week and plans their weekly date night. She works out religiously. Her floors are never dirty and you would not dare find a dust bunny the size of a men’s athletic shoe behind her couch. She always sends a thank you card and has her Holiday cards out two weeks before the event.
Oh, hell I could go on but I am starting to hate her. Mainly because I don’t fully believe that she exists. Don’t get me wrong, I still want to be her. But I have begun to think of her like I think of unicorns and dragons. She is more the stuff of Hogwarts than anything I might find in Gymboree. I think I thought of this woman as my model of Motherhood when I first started out. But I have to tell you trying to live up to that bitch’s expectations is exhausting! Yeah, fine…still want to be her. Okay, is it really bad if I can’t remember when I last shampooed my hair? Does dry shampoo count?
In my personal quest at “becoming the Mythical Mother” I must admit my personal care has been one of the things that have slid sideways…just a bit. Not completely mind you. I am not running around this joint green toothed and a head full of unintentional dreads. But any “Me” time has become the “Don’t want to look like something living under a bridge” time. If I find that mysterious and elusive “Me” time lurking in some dark, dust bunny littered corner, I use it to take an extra long shower. You know the one where you shave your legs, armpits and your bikini line. Body lotion is actually used and I floss. Before kids "Me" time was soooo taken for granted. Now if I am not careful lil' things just start falling away. This blog, well it slacked sideways a bit this summer too. It came last to pretty much everything else and normally I am typing with some pretty fuzzy legs.
Sometimes it is all I can do to keep the kids healthy, clean and happy. Then the housework comes next and so on down the line. If all that other stuff gets done in the name of becoming the “Mythical Mother” and there is still time left this house troll shaves her legs. Don’t ask me how I prioritize what gets done, I don’t have the answer to that, although I am sure SHE would hand you a perfectly organized and monogrammed day planner. I think all mommies have that friend they look at and think “how does she do it?” But I am willing to bet underneath the polished facade and that ever smiling face is one knarly bikini line. I mean nobody is that perfect, right?
Yeah, yeah, fine…still want to be her.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Thursday, August 13, 2009
I love summer. So now that I have rested I here my little update. Maddox and Bodhi Mae are brown as berries and have golden highlights in their hair. They are obsessed with pools and the beach. We touched a dead hammerhead shark the other day. I had nightmares, but for days Mad pulled himself across the floor using only his arms and screaming "I'm a shark! Aaarrrrr!" Bodhi didn't think much of the shark, she likes to eat sand. Of which there is a lot all over the floor of the house, but I am loathe to clean it up. It makes me feel like I am on vacation.
Bodhi Mae started walking shortly after her first birthday and luckily she had her Nonni (otherwise known as 'slave girl') to walk around the house with her in circles. She is saying 'Mama, Dada, woof, Maaaa' (which we think is Maddox- mostly because she walks around the house screaming it when he is from home) and something that sounds like 'thank you'. She is still a very serious little girl and likes to stare. She will look strangers up and down, head to toe, a good four or five times before venturing a smile. She seems to be a very old soul.
Maddox is, well, Maddox. He exists on a liquid diet and cheese. He screeches and says things like- "I'm busted brother!" and "That's the freshest!" He will spend most of the day pretending to be some kind of mythical creature or animal and will only answer you if you refer to him as his chosen moniker. For example; "Dragon, would you like a snack?" or "Snake-boy, do you need to use the potty before we go to the store?" The other day he started dancing to imaginary music in his head and shaking his booty like some girl from a rap video. Doubled over, hands on his knees, booty popping up and down like Beyonce. I am not sure when I should become concerned....we don't watch MTV.....hmmmmm.
Soooo, now I renew my commitment to my blog. I must remind myself that my poor children have no scrapbooks and that I am the crappiest journal keeper ever. Now if you will excuse me, I am off to inflate a gigantic squirting, bouncy, water slide, pool thingy!
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Monday, June 1, 2009
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Friday, May 15, 2009
Friday, May 8, 2009
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Friday, April 24, 2009
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Thursday, April 16, 2009
This is not me. Panic attacks, my blood pressure rising to the point I think my head is going to explode. Are you kidding? When I had my daughter I had some pretty strong postpartum depression and went on Zoloft. It helped a lot. I stopped feeling empty and distant from my baby and felt like me again...and then the panic attacks started. I started getting up at 5 am to work out- thinking that exercise would help release some of the tension. Sure I fit into my pants better but I am still struggling to stay calm in the face of my son's temper tantrums or constant whining, tormenting the dog, whatever it is all while the baby is crying. It takes everything I have to not scream most times.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Monday, March 23, 2009
Last weekend we did a impromptu visit to Disney World and I did the unthinkable. I put my kid on a leash. Granted it looks like a friendly little monkey backpack, but it is still a leash. I am now that Mom. If you too are that mom, know that I used to mock you, I used to make fun of you and look down on you. I used to talk about you. I used to say that I would never, ever be you. Now I am you. Ain't karma a bitch?!
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Maddox loves his so much he wanted to wear it to bed last evening. It was so dirty from a day of hard play that the thing was standing on its own. As I cajoled and begged for him to take it off in favor of some construction truck jammies he changed the conversation (as he so often does when he wants to avoid doing something I ask of him).
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Monday, March 2, 2009
My son has been sporting the surfer/skater look recently. This wasn't a fashion statement. He could care less. I am not even sure he knows that he has hair on his head, let alone that there is a style to it. The reasoning behind his increasingly long locks is simple. The boy detests getting his hair cut. It is an exercise in terror. Mainly for myself and the poor people at Sports Clips. Now, let me be very clear -I have read the parenting books and scoured websites for advice on how to make the haircutting experience a less stressful one and somehow these techniques fall short of working with my son.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Monday, February 9, 2009
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Monday, January 26, 2009
Friday, January 16, 2009
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Monday, January 5, 2009
Around here we call them balls, my sister's kids call them jimjim's (don't ask, I don't know why). We call it a corn hole, my sister's kids call it "the wrong spot" (I told you not to ask, I still have no clue over here). Call it whatever you like, I just wish I could get him to leave it alone or at the very least go someplace private inspect the junk and then remember to wash his hands before touching anything in my house.
Today I found him have a raucous time dancing naked from the waist down in front of the mirror in Bodhi Mae's room. The Junk was swinging and Maddox thought there couldn't be anything cooler than the peepee two step. And it must have been cool because I had the fire going I was so cold and I had my pants on.
My biggest problem is how am I to keep this kid from getting sick or giving the rest of us pink eye when he has his hands down his pants, or more often than not, is pant less and discovering his junk? Do you think I could tape mittens to his hands? Ah, who am I kidding. My husband discovered his junk ages ago and he still likes to do the peepee swing dance. Don't kid yourself ladies, you know your man likes to show you the peepee shuffle on the way to or from the shower. Come to think of it...they never stop putting their hands down their pants. Think Al Bundy. They all love to sit on the couch with one hand down the front of their pants watching football. The longer I raise my son the more I realize that while they get taller they really, truly never grow up. I don't care....I am fighting the good fight against the inevitable. Now where are his damn pants?!