I'm just a mommy living in a toddlers world

Posts tagged ‘baby’

The Mermaid and the Shrimp

So, I’ve been on a bit of a hiatus from blogging lately.  It has been a very crazy month, or two.  I never realized just how much work it is having two kids.  It’s no joke when people say that having another child is like having 10 more.  Add a full-time job into the mix and there is little or no time spare.  My weekends are now a rat-race of Target runs, tackling piles of laundry, and trying to spend some time with the kids.  Needless to say there hasn’t been any time left to write.

There is one thing I insisted on finding time for and that was making my daughter’s Halloween costume.  She had been talking for months about being Ariel, the Little Mermaid.  I brought her to the Disney store and asked her if she liked the Ariel dresses they had.  She said,”No mumma.  I want to be Ariel the mermaid.  I need a looong green tail and seashell boobies.”  Well, not sure if you’ve ever looked for a mermaid costume for a toddler, but none of them have tails.  I decided to get to work.  After a couple sleepless weekends, I was able to transform the little princess into the mermaid she wanted to be.  I found a great shrimp costume for the little man, so the two were a perfect pair.

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Why Kids Got it Made

Ready to shop

Yesterday I was having lunch with a coworker and he was telling me how his daughter told him the night before that she couldn’t wait to be a grown-up.  He asked her why and she responded “so I can stay up real late like you and watch t.v.”.    He started laughing and said “It’s not by choice, honey.  It’s called insomnia.”  This got me thinking… kids really have a warped view of what it’s like to be an adult.

I remember as a child I could not wait to grow up so I could “do whatever I want, whenever I want”.  I think that is the perception that most kids have.  And it could not be more wrong.  Guess what???  After 30-something years, I’m still waiting for that day!  Now, not only do I have a boss at work telling me what to do, but a husband and two little tyrants at home.

Kids really do not know how good they have it.  Toddlers in particular.  They have got it made.  Here is the evidence to back my theory:

  1. They can say whatever is on their mind.  My daughter has no problem walking into a public restroom and announcing very loudly that it ‘stinks like poop’, while the person in the next stall clearly has not finished (yes, she’s done this).  If I say it, I’m considered rude.
  2. If they fart, people laugh and think it’s cute.  If I fart, people think I’m disgusting and scatter like cockroaches.
  3. They can wear the craziest things.  My daughter wears a tutu, a tiara, plastic heels, and carries a wand when we go shopping at Target.  People stop to say “how adorable”.  I dress like that and they’ll be bringing in the men in white coats to get me.
  4. They get breakfast, lunch, and dinner made for them.  Breakfast for me is licking the peanut butter off the knife and I’ve been known to call a Milky Way lunch.
  5. Someone wipes their ass.  Okay, I don’t have anything for this one.  Personally I don’t mind wiping my own.  It’s just the fact that I don’t like wiping their’s.
  6. They make messes and other people pick them up.  My car’s been a mess for 2 years.  I’m still waiting for the mice to eat the raisins and Cheerios off the floor (yes, there was a mouse living in my car- a story for another time).
  7. They have their own personal stylist.  I would LOVE to have outfits laid out for me every morning.  It sure would reduce the amount of days that I’m late for work.
  8. They get naptime.  Are you kidding me?  What I wouldn’t do to have someone come around everyday at 1pm to tell me it’s nappy time.

So there it is.  I’ve pled my case.

Feel free to add to my list.  Why does your kid have it made?

Bad Hair Day

The Texts You Receive When You’re a Parent

Today I am starting a new category called “The Texts You Receive When You’re a Parent”.  The past couple of weeks I’ve been receiving some pretty entertaining ones from the daycare.

It’s funny how things change.  Just a few years ago, the majority of texts I received would say things like “Want to go out for drinks after work?” and “Want to go shopping on Saturday?”.  Now the only messages I receive deal with pooping and gas, behavior problems, and more pooping.  Ahhh, the joys of parenting.

Oh baby

Confessions: Why I Sprayed my Boobs with Fooey! Ultra-Bitter Spray

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.


Let me just say that this was not a rash decision to use this spray.  It came as a last alternative.

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!

Image taken from time.com

“Look! Donovan has Boobies.”

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.

Who me?

Health Care Reform?

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.

Wheelbarrow Ride