I was at work last Thursday when I received this text from my children’s daycare provider:
Although I was mortified at my daughter’s choice in names, I have to admit I was laughing hysterically when I read this. I knew she must have picked the word up from somewhere, so I decided to investigate by giving the husband a call.
It seems that he “may have” muttered the words “little bitch” under his breath when she was acting up the other day. Nice, huh. Doesn’t he know that she has supersonic ears? The girl can hear a pigeon fart through a sliding glass door.
Well, I guess she took it as a compliment because she thought it would make a nice name for her new fuzzy friend. The funny thing is none of the other girls knew it was a “bad” word either. One of them actually said,”That’s our doggie’s other name”. Who knew Bitch would become such a popular name for pets? I wonder if we’ll see it on the Top Pet Names list for 2012.
All I can say is thank God the lady that watches my kids has a good sense of humor.
Yes, it is true. I sprayed my boobs with Fooey! Ultra-Bitter Spray to get my daughter to stop breast feeding. I know this may sound cruel, but drastic times call for drastic measures.
Please don’t judge me. You try having a piranha attached to your chest. I was afraid to have a nipple severed!
I gave her 2 years to self-wean and she wasn’t having it. Two Years! The fact is she never had a Lovie or a Blankie to help her fall asleep like most normal kids. Instead, she had my boobie.
My daughter was extremely attached to the boob from the start. At 2 months old, I began introducing the bottle to her in preparation for my return from maternity leave, but she refused it every time. This child was so stubborn, she would go 8 hours without eating. My husband eventually had to take a leave of absence and drive her an hour each way to my work for a lunch time feeding. When I got home at night it was a non-stop milk fest. This went on for about 7 months until finally, Finally, she began to take the bottle.
I should have known that was a sign for the times to come.
My plan was to stop breastfeeding her once she turned one. At this point she was fine during the day with a bottle, but whenever I was around she was attached to my chest like a fly on shit. If I was smart I would have invested in a prosthetic boob like Robert Dinero in Meet the Fockers. I’m sure they’re expensive, but it would have been cheaper than the ten grand I’m going to need to fork out for a boob job.
Worried that she wasn’t self-weaning, I contacted the La Leche League. I told them of my concern that my daughter was too old for breast feeding. The nurse said “It’s wonderful that you’re still breast feeding”. Wonderful? For who? I didn’t want my chest to look like as if a small animal had been gnawing on it. Have you seen Tara Reid’s boob?
After many failed attempts, my husband came up with the genius plan to spray my chest with the bitter spray. This is how it all went down:
My husband went to Petco to see what their were for options. He came home with the bottle of Fooey! I read the bottle and it sounded suitable: “Stops Undesirable Licking, Biting, & Chewing Behavior”. I thought, “Hell, I can even use this when I want him to leave me alone”.
So I sprayed my chest before bedtime, then waited for her to ask for her nighttime snack.
She said: “Mumma, bebe (boobie)”, pulling at my shirt.
I lifted my shirt and let her latch on. She quickly pulled off and said,”Bebe spicy”. My husband and I were trying not to laugh hysterically.
She latched on for a second time, then pulled off again saying,”Bebe bubbly. Mumma, wash it. Wash bebe.” At this point my husband and I were in tears.
She wasn’t giving up. After about 10 minutes, I felt bad and gave in. I washed it off and let her have her nighttime feeding.
To sum it all up, even the Fooey! could not keep this child away! I ended up having to cut her off cold turkey. It was a tough couple of weeks, but eventually she stopped asking for “bebe”. At least she was younger than the kid on Time magazine. Now that’s scary!
The other day, the little man had a nose full of boogies. I was trying to use the aspirator bulb to suck some of the gook out so he could breathe better. I ran into the kitchen for a second and left it on the floor. Big mistake!
My mischievous little princess found the other aspirator in the drawer of the diaper caddy. She took it out and decided to have some fun with them.
I could hear her giggling in the other room. I said, “What are you up to now???”
She yelled,”Look, Mommy! Donovan has boobies!”
I looked over to see her holding both the aspirators on his chest.
My poor baby boy! He has no idea the years of tormenting that are in store for him.
My daughter has been navigating my iPhone for quite a while. Although, I don’t love her burrowing her little nose into the screen, I have to admit I do love the 15 minutes of peace and quiet I get while she watches it.
I figured, how harmful could it be. After all she’s only watching Disney Princess clips on YouTube, right? WRONG! And so begins my story…
It was just a couple of weeks after my son was born. My husband and I were so exhausted from the sleep deprivation that we were giving into my daughter a little more than usual, just to avoid a Toddlerzilla moment. I was pretty much letting her use my phone as much as she wanted, as long as her behavior stayed in check.
We were in the kitchen and realized that she had “disappeared”. My husband noticed that the bathroom door was opened just a crack and decided to sneak over and investigate. Sure enough she was in there, sitting on the toilet, watching my phone. When my husband opened the door she hurried up and pressed the button to turn it off. Then she fumbled it around her back, trying to hide it.
My husband asked,”What are you up to? Why are you hiding that?”
She replied,”Nuffing”, but had a shit-eating grin across her face. We knew she was up to no good.
My husband said,”Let me see the phone, then.” She shook her head “no” side to side, still clutching the phone behind her back.
Finally he grabbed it from her. We were not prepared for what we were about to see. She was watching YouTube alright, but this was no Princess video.
He turned the phone on and went to YouTube. There we saw a cartoon thumbnail with a man and a woman with her bare butt showing. “What is this???” we asked her. She just shrugged her shoulders, still grinning from ear to ear.
My husband played the video. At first it didn’t look that bad…a little elf, a snowman. I know my daughter likes Christmas. Then, the woman with the butt showed up and started pooping. From that point on it was a non-stop poop fest. DISGUSTING!
It was one of those things that’s like a bad car accident. You don’t really want to look, but you just can’t help it!
It was so gross, but also kind of funny at the same time. At one point, I was laughing so hard I almost popped a stitch. I had to walk away and couldn’t watch the rest of it.
If you dare, here is the link to the video:
Lesson learned: Do not let your children use the internet unsupervised. They can find anything, ANYTHING, in a matter of seconds and they are WAY smarter than we give them credit for.
When I was little, my mom taught me that when you find a loose eyelash on someones face, you get to make a wish. First you pick it up on your finger tip, you make your wish, and then blow the eyelash away. I remember always being so excited to find one, so I thought I would carry on this tradition with my daughter.
The other night I was washing her face and I found an eyelash on her cheek. I said,”Look Kai, an eyelash. Now you have to make a wish before you blow it away. Make sure you wish for something.” She got really excited, then puffed up her cheeks and blew it away.
I said,”Did you make your wish?” and she nodded her head, her eyes glowing and a huge grin on her face.
Now do you think my little princess would settle for just one wish? Oh no, she wanted more. She said,”Mumma, I need more lashes.” I told her,”Well, you have to wait until we find another one”.
She started to look around feverishly. Then she happened to glance down towards the tub. She shouted,”Oh look, here’s one” as she picked up a small pube. I almost died laughing. I wanted to shout for her to put it down, but was in no mood to go through the explanation of why that lash was disgusting. Or the 100 questions that would follow. I just let her make her wish and then vowed to wash her hands thoroughly.
She still wasn’t satisfied. She said again,”Mumma, I want more”. She then jumped on my lap and before I knew it had latched onto both of my eyebrows. I screamed,”Let go!” and pulled her little lobster claws away, but not before she managed to rip out a couple of fingerfuls. I think she got at least five wishes from that move.
All I can say is that I hope one of her wishes was for Mommy to grow more lashes, because I’m pretty sure that I now have a bald spot on my left eyebrow.
The other day I took my son for his 2 month check up. I have to tell you that I’m not particularly fond of this doctor’s office. The staff is very cold and I feel rushed every time I’m there. I know I should find a new pediatrician for the kids, but I have been lazy. Truth is I had the best pediatrician before we moved and I’m still heartbroken over having to leave her.
While I was waiting the normal half hour in the exam room for the doctor to arrive, I noticed this sign on the wall:
So let me get this straight, I’m bringing my child in for their well visit, which is described as preventative care. However, during this visit I am not allowed to bring up any questions or concerns that I have??? This does not make sense to me. Wouldn’t it be proactive for me to discuss any health issues my child is having so I do not have to drag her back to the doctor’s office again? It’s hard enough to get my daughter in there once a year. Last time she broke free from my arms and b-lined for the door, trying to escape.
This sign brings me back to this past winter, when I brought my daughter in for a recheck on her ears. The poor thing cannot make it through cold season without at least a couple of ear infections. At the time, she was also having some constipation issues. The child was deathly afraid to poop. When the time came for her to go, we would sit in the bathroom and wait. And wait. And wait. Then she would begin to cry, hop off the toilet, and go running through the house bare ass and hide. This would repeat itself for about an hour or two until finally she would painfully push out a little round meatball. Not fun.
Since we were already at the doctor’s office I thought it would be an opportune time to ask the doctor about this issue. Someone had suggested to use Miralax and I wanted to check if this was safe for small children. I explained the situation to the doctor and received a 10 second response – Yes, it’s okay to give her Miralax. Great.
A month later, I received a bill in the mail from the doctor’s office for $50. I called my insurance company thinking it must be a mistake. They explained that the charge was due to a secondary topic being addressed – Constipation. Are you kidding me???? If I had known it was going to cost me 50 bucks, I would have fed her a diet of prune juice, baked beans, & brussel sprouts and prayed for a soft turd.
I’ll be quite honest, I don’t know jack shit about the Health Care Reform. Perhaps I should educate myself on this topic because clearly the $150 we pay for insurance each week is not enough. They now need to nickel and dime us.
Has anyone else had this issue? I’m wondering if it just this doctor’s office, or if they all charge now for each “topic” you discuss.