I’ve have now crossed another Mommy Milestone and, unfortunately for you, I have to share it with everyone! Have you ever watched your child consume massive amounts of sugary substances at a party or gathering and wondered ,with dread, how it would present itself later? Because you know… what goes in…must come out. I have crossed that line. Or more like, my daughter has crossed a line that I believe no parent should ever have to tip toe over.

Not that I’m in the habit of sharing such personal information with you, nor do I ever really want to again, but I can’t resist sharing with you “The End Results!” (Imagine this line being said in a deep, thundering, dramatic voice.) Because “The End Results” had me twisting in agony, and intermittently laughing my head off all while gagging. And “The End Results” had my daughter twisting herself into a pretzil so she could see what was so funny at her other end.

Have I given you enough details yet to make you curious enough to be willing to see what I have to share with you?

Well, hold your proverbal breath ya’ll cuz I’ve got a treat for you!

Apparently when you feed your offspring enough of this…

Then they will eventully give you this…

Yes indeed. My child did shit shamrocks.

Did you really think I’d give you a clear shot of the unfortunate diaper gift? I’m not that cruel.
I mean really, do I need to elaborate further? Are you signifigantly grosed out while simutainiously laughing your asses off? Then you know how I felt. Please also use your imaginations to picture a cute little hiney stained green. Yes, my daughter has a green arse. I know there’s a joke in there somewhere but I just can’t find it. Yep, another Mommy Milestone crossed and another Mommy Milestone that really didn’t need to be turned over. Please, please, please daughter!! Learn to use the potty before you start shitting rainbows! I don’t think I could handle that.

After taking my daughter to the potty for what seemed like the umpteenth time today I noticed a little spec of what appeared to be a foreign object in the potty.  Not that I really want to pay that close attention to whats in a potty on a normal basis but, since we are currently up to our eyeballs in potty training, I get excited about dark objects* shadowing the pale porcelain.  Just as I was gearing up to do a potty dance for my daughter I did an all stop chin drop.  To my dismay it was not a natural biological remnant* but….Money! A dime to be more precise.

WTFreak is THAT doing in there?!?

After taking a deep breath, since I knew at that point it was safe to do so without the aid of a haz-mat suit I allowed myself a brief moment of cataloguing all the ways money could end up in my potty.  I’ll even admit to a moment of delusional day dreaming where I imagined that our house was built on a hidden bounty of dimes, nickels, and quarters and they decided to find the quickest way to the earths surface by swelling out of my potty making me rich beyond my wildest dreams. I even pictured an image of taking this particular porcelain font of legal tender with me and installing it into a bathroom the size of my current house, since that’s the treatment it would deserve after flowing forth with its bounty.

But then I looked at my daughter and watched all my wild dreams of swimming in dimes flush right down the pot. Because I knew, standing in front of me, wearing her halo held up by horns, was the culprit. Now the question at hand is how? And let’s also not forget about when? Did she, in a moment of shear glee decide to see what would happen if she tossed it in there??  Did she stick her hand in with it???  Did she then touch anything else????  Did she touch the counters, the chairs, the couch, the tables, the…..????? Did she touch me???????

Gasp!  Urp!  ARRRRRGGGGG!

Did she at least make a wish first?

Another deep breath taken as I gather my wits which were swishing around me like a swirly**.

I’m fairly certain she didn’t produce the coin, ummm, naturally*. She’s never been one for sticking things in her mouth. So I’m thinking that’s one subject I can stop worrying about. Well, at least I’d like to believe it wouldn’t happen. I guess I’ll find out in the next few days if she starts spiting out change for a dollar.

So. Um. Ya. Chalk it up to another mommy milestone as I use our bar-b-cue tongs to fish out the offending change.  All the while EJ, sweet little girl that she is, is laughing her halo right off her pretty head.

Twerp.

Ps.  Please note the below “dictionary of terms”. I realize that most of you were not born in a barn like I was so you may need a guide to decipher some of the more colorful terms I used.

* In other words… Poop!

** The evil act of one arsehole adolescent sticking the head of another arsehole adolescent in the toilet and flushing.

The Most Intimidating Creatures On Earth…Babies

Tonight my group of tennis ladies had an end of season/early Christmas white elephant party since one of our out of town teammates is in town for a couple days.  It’s always so nice to get together with all the ladies.  The wine and margaritas were flowing freely and so was the chatter. When you took a look around the room you saw multiple conversations going on about who knows how many subjects.  But the amazing thing was there wasn’t one person left in the corner by themselves.  Everyone had someone to talk to and everyone has the same room full of friends so no one was lost in the conversation.  I had to bring my daughter tonight because dear hubby was playing in our club tennis tournament.  She spent the evening being passed around from one lady to another and was just the cutest social butterfly ever.  There isn’t a mama out there that is more proud than I am tonight.

As I made my way around the room chatting about everything under the sun I started talking to one of the ladies about having kids.  She’s about my age, married and is starting to consider going down the preggo route.  While I talked to her I saw a lot of my former self in her eyes.  Her doubts and fears were my own not too long ago.  Until I met my dear hubby I had pretty well decided that kids might not be in the cards for me.  I was one of these women who was completely intimidated by these little creatures.  I know, I know, all the women out there that were born to be moms and already had it programed in their DNA to be nurturers are all wondering how in the hell I could be afraid of such a cute little baby.  It’s easy.  They bite, they puke, they poop and pee and do any number of other disgusting things a person in their right mind wouldn’t purposely want to be involved with.  EWEWWWW!!  They cry.  REALLY LOUD!  They don’t let you  have personal conversations if they are in the room. They make your body look like you swallowed a watermelon while your pregnant and then like a deflated, flappy, good year blimp after they arrive.  Forget long showers, forget makeup, and simply forget remembering to brush your teeth everyday.  Sleep doesn’t exist.  Your deodorant will be your best friend but forget the perfume.  All it does is make your baby sneeze and get snotty and it doesn’t cover up the smell of baby puke anyways.  Forget clothes without stains and eating a meal without it getting cold.  I could keep going but since this is a mommy blog and since most of my readers are moms I don’t have to. You know where I’m at right now.  I know all these things aren’t that bad but knowing that all these things come in one very small, very breakable package is SCARY!

These were all the things I had heard about before I ever decided to have a child and my thoughts were NO THANKS!   I’d rather eat toe jam.  Then I met my husband.  The man of my dreams.  He’s so adorable it’s hard not to think of what he looked like when he was baby.  And then I started noticing how great he was with all his nieces.  They LOVE  their uncle.  He makes them laugh and always has something cool for the to play with outside.  You know, because he still a big kid in many ways.  The idea of a little ankle biter started growing on me.  He made it seem like all the icky things I’ve already mentioned might not be so bad.  But first we had to get past the thing that scared me most.  The idea that my child wouldn’t like me.  I have always been the type of person who would make what I thought was a funny face at a child in a checkout line they would start screaming.  I intimidated kids as much as they intimidated me.  What would I do if my own child decided I was scary?  Again, might seem ridicules to all the experienced, always meant to be a mom, moms but to me it was an honest fear.  But my hubby prevailed and convinced me that it wouldn’t be that bad.  That our own child would love me no matter what and all the other funky stuff I could deal with too.  He’s a very convincing man.  It’s probably a good thing he’s made a career out of tennis instead of being a con artist.

Long story short, we got pregnant.  Had our beautiful little girl.   And do you know what?  She’s not afraid of me!!  And I’m not afraid of her!!  She’s the light of my life and I can’t understand why it took me so long to do this.  I do believe children have a sixth sense about people.  Somewhere during my pregnancy the kids in the checkout lines started not being afraid of me and some even started to smile back.  I think they sensed that I was a mommy (to be) and knew I was now part of that secret society.  It was kinda weird to all of a sudden not be that intimidated person any more.  Now I live in a sea of baby puke, pee, and poop and I wouldn’t trade one minute of it.  Not for all the diamonds in the world or all the ice cream at Ben and Jerry’s.

So to my friend who I was talking to tonight.  Go for it, if your ready to face the challenge. Don’t expect yourself to ever be completely “ready”  because until the screaming beast actually arrives you won’t know the feelings I’m talking about.  That’s comes on his/her birthday.  But what ever you decide to do I support you and you can practice with my little sweet ankle biter any time you want.

Smiles

This is also my 207th post. I guess I missed that big bloggobirthday too.  Balloons and firecrackers for everyone!!!

Unknowingly, on this day, on this particular playscape that we plopped our daughter on, would also harbor a boy sized germ… ahem… bully.  (She’s not really able to haul herself up the ladders to reach these particular heights yet, so we “plop”.) On one of the levels there is a steering wheel that spins and some wooden levers to imitate a boats drivers seat. My little girl was really only interested in looking at it because she’s not quite into the function of things yet, but this germ… ahem… bully wouldn’t let her even get near it.  Any time she got close to that level he would jump over and block her.  When she would drift somewhere else on the playscape he would go about his infection of the other toys… ahem… I mean playing, meanwhile keeping a very intense close watch on the steering wheel.  Ej is still slow on the playscape, moving carefully and deliberately from one area to the other so she was easy target for this steering wheel stalking bug…ahem…boy. The other kids, a little older and more aware of themselves, would only give the germ…ahem…boy an odd look when he would start trying to shove his way onto the steering wheel when they were playing with it. Because of this, the little bully would only stand, hovering over them instead, I’m assuming giving instructions on how to drive his boat.  Because, you know, he must have peed on it or something to claim his territory before we got to the playground.  (Can you hear my teeth gnashing?)

But instead of crying and getting upset, my little girl would just give him the look you would give a dysfunctional lunatic, she’s good at that one, and would turn around and go a different direction.  She didn’t quite understand what was happening or why this turd… I mean germ… AHEM… boy was being mean and not letting her play.  But she wasn’t going to let it ruin her fun time.  She is apparently older and wiser than her mother and has more control over her emotions.  That or she’s just biding her time.  Not sure which.  I guess I’ll find out later when she’s a teenager.

Taking a deep cleansing breath now.  Gaining my self control back….

Today, Ej never got her chance. And I held my fangs at bay, barely.  Today she wasn’t fast enough or big enough to shove her way in, but one day little germ… ahem… boy she’s going to eat your lunch and tell you that you’re going to like watching her do it.  She is silent now….Waiting, watching for the day to step on your foot you big bully. And I’ll be a proud momma on that day.

Thanks for letting me vent…

Germs……

Ummm… OK… Fun yes!… Highly important and mildly life changing?… Are you sure???  Mardi Gras beads??? Really?

YES! REALLY!

I’ll admit it. I’m one of these hermit types that finds my little world so satisfactory that I find little need to leave it.  I go places with my husband and daughter. I go play tennis with my tennis ladies.  I’m mildly social on Football Sunday when I invite all of my husbands boys over and cook for them. (Cuz they all need a woman… and some of them are just too skinny and living off Taco Bell)  What I’m saying is that I’m not anti-social, I’m just quiet in my private time.  And I cling to that.  I’m not uncomfortable in social settings. Matter of fact I almost tend to become the center of attention.  Not because I try, but because I’m loud and nuts and that draws, while not always the best attention, attention just the same.  But I will admit to having a bad habit of bowing out of social functions because its just too feels like too much work sometimes.   I have no clue why I do this or feel this way.  When I’m out and being social I never hide my true self even when I know I’m going to offend the delicate sensibilities of someone.  I always do.  Can’t help it.  I been told I think more like a man, I cuss like a sailor on shore leave, and I really do appreciate bathroom humor.  I’m used to the blank stares I get from some when I tell a joke or snort wine out my nose because I found something inappropriately funny that I probably shouldn’t have.  But that’s just me and I don’t hide it.  I’m still invited to functions so I don’t feel like I’ve ever gone too far.  (((Although I think it’s always the women’s husbands that want me to come. Not because I’m some “all that” hottie, because you know I really am the shiz-net, but because I’m a woman that can just hang with the boys and they appreciate that. And I can tell them when they are being stupid pricks and need to buy their wives roses. Ladies you should maybe appreciate my input into your lives more…. Just sayin’… Do you really believe that fancy meal he cooked you while you sat in a bath prepared by him and drank that lovely bottle of wine while the kids are off at a baby sitters that he arranged was his idea??? HA! Keep dreaming!)))

Anyways, so where was I? Ah yes, my lacking of a social life.  Which has also gotten more lacking since having a baby.  That one needs no explanation since the majority of my readers all have kids.  You know how it goes. The phone rings:

“A bar-be-que? Great! What time? Ohhhh… Hmmmm… That’s right in the middle of nap time… Honey? What do you think? Ya, I agree… Thanks so much for the invite… but we are going to have to pass this time.  Duty calls and naps make the world go round.”

But the other aspect of my past lacking of social outings is my aversion to all things girly.  That whole dressing up, getting cute, only to attempt to impress another woman with the quality of your shoe choice. Chatting.  Catting.  Bitching. Wishing. All of those things that make going out with the ladies for me a struggle.  I’ve never felt like I could fit in there.  That and the fact that my bathroom humor is usually only welcomed in mixed company and I tend to find myself silent and sitting in the corner willing myself to strengthen that mental filter between my brain and my mouth.  I find it difficult when someone is bitching about how awful their husband is to do the girl “support network” thing. I end up playing devils advocate and calling the poor weeping woman out about how maybe if she would just let the poor fool play his video games one night each week without nagging him then maybe he would be more understanding and willing to hop to and do the dishes when she asked him.  Then I tell a dirty joke and go home early doing a little different kind of walk of shame in to my house.  I’m telling you, I can’t help it!  I seriously must have been a man in a past life.

That’s why last night was so important and kind of a break through moment for me.  In the last few tennis seasons (yes I mark time by the Spring, Summer, Fall tennis seasons and Winter is marked with Christmas tree lights-o-plenty) I have made a few friends within my ladies tennis team.  These women, while very different then me, find my twisted humor rather funny. Or at least they laugh with me and not at me.  And they don’t give me the blank stare of death when my filter in my brains burps out something iffy.  We all have tennis in common, and kids, and well… in many cases that’s just it.  But for some reason we get along.  Last night we took our seasonal tennis friendship off the court and to the bar where we had wine and these little snacky things that I think were supposed to be food. We drank, and laughed, and told stories, got to know each other better.  And I walked away with a sense that I was truly welcomed.  As we parted at the door and said that we HAD to do this again, we truly meant it.  I truly meant it. I want to spend more time around these ladies without men as the buffers for me.  It was a wonderful night that I came home and told my husband would sustain me and keep me smiling for a long time.

I had no idea how much I’ve changed as a parent. How much that little extra pulling out of the social world did to me.  How much as a mom I found that I needed to be able to relate to other moms.  On line, in the blogosphere, it is really easy to say “hay, I can relate to that story.  Let me tell you what happened to me.” But you never really get that good ole’ sense of true understanding as you get when you’re sitting at a table of other women, moms, not talking about your children necessarily, but talking about… life.  We are women in the same daily grind. We are women with priorities other than each other. We are women who never want to forget ourselves.  We are women reminding each other that we are selfless and it’s ok to be selfish.  It was eye opening and moving.  The wind in my sails for the next few weeks. I can’t wait till the next gust!

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I’ve been having one of those time periods in life where you can never seem to catch up and yesterday the rush, rush, rush, finally came to a screeching halt with a very humorous high note.  Imagine one well endowed mommy.

(No, not for those reasons! Get your mind out of the gutter!)

Now imagine that well endowed mommy wearing a scooped neck shirt that showed quite a bit of cleavage.

(I’m telling ya, get your mind out of that gutter! This is you last warning!)

As other well endowed mommies will tell you, with the right equipment one can create quite a shelf out of ones assets.

(That’s it! I told you to get your mind out of the gutter and now you’re going to force me to come over and beat you with my rather large mommy bra filled with rocks! AHEM! Sorry about that!  Hubby was reading this as I was writing.  Old codger!)

Anyways…. Also, picture one very bizzy mommy rushing around trying to get herself and her child out the door.  This is where I need to stop and address why my daughter is still running around with a peanut butter sandwich in her hands.  At lunch she refused to eat the yummy meal that I made her and managed to swipe the last 1/4 of the piece of bread I had with peanut butter and peach jam off my plate as I was taking her from her high chair.  And just try to get that out of her hands.  Ya right!  After she went “yum” and ran off I made the quick mommy decision that a screaming, P.O’ed, baby wasn’t worth the peanut butter smudges all over the house that the dogs would conveniently clean up for me.

Little did I think about the “gotta leave” factor and the fact that it would take her an hour to eat this 1/4 piece of sticky goo.  So I did what all mommies do in this case.  I sighed a huge sigh and gave in.  Scooped her up, along with the diaper bag, keys, her sippy cup, and all the other essentials… and her peanut butter trophy.  As I was then making my way out the door she made the decision that she wanted her sippy cup instead but to score this she would have to put her gooey mess down somewhere.  Hmm, where to put it??? Where? To? Put?  It? I KNOW!  This is when she carefully, I know you all have seen this careful placement of objects by a 1 year old, on my human table, ok my chestacle area.  She gave it a good smash to make sure it would stick and went for the sippy.

There I stood.  Loaded down with stuff and baby, mouth gapping open, with a 1/4 piece of sticky, gooey, peanut butter and peach jam bread stuck to my chest.  And it stayed there!  Stuck like your favorite piece of bubble gum that you’re saving for later. And yes I left it there till I was able to get her and all her stuff into the car lest she run off and find some super glue to use to her amusement on mommy.

Moral of the story, peanut butter is sticky, and will still taste good when peeled off ones chest area.  Hay! She stole my lunch!  I got it back!  I win!

Don’t forget to enter to win your very own bottle of Smelly Washer!  Ends 9/18!!!

(click here!)

Last night I did something that I really needed to do.  Something so simple to most but highly important for me to do.  I crossed a bridge that is very hard for me to cross.  I dipped my toe in the nice warm salty waters and it felt great!  I tasted a small taste of freedom that only comes with letting go. At this point you may be thinking I must have made some giant life decision or (look away Dad) did something “extra special” with my husband but, sadly, no.  What I did was something that comes so easily to most and most would find ridiculous to have me go on and on about the importance of.  I went out with a couple ladies last night and had a couple glasses of wine.  Whoo hooo!  Start up the parade! I’m wearing a ball gown and waving from the top as I throw candy and Mardi Gras beads at everyone who shows me their stuff!

Ummm… OK… Fun yes!… Highly important and mildly life changing?… Are you sure???  Mardi Gras beads??? Really?

YES! REALLY!

I’ll admit it. I’m one of these hermit types that finds my little world so satisfactory that I find little need to leave it.  I go places with my husband and daughter. I go play tennis with my tennis ladies.  I’m mildly social on Football Sunday when I invite all of my husbands boys over and cook for them. (Cuz they all need a woman… and some of them are just too skinny and living off Taco Bell)  What I’m saying is that I’m not anti-social, I’m just quiet in my private time.  And I cling to that.  I’m not uncomfortable in social settings. Matter of fact I almost tend to become the center of attention.  Not because I try, but because I’m loud and nuts and that draws, while not always the best attention, attention just the same.  But I will admit to having a bad habit of bowing out of social functions because its just too feels like too much work sometimes.   I have no clue why I do this or feel this way.  When I’m out and being social I never hide my true self even when I know I’m going to offend the delicate sensibilities of someone.  I always do.  Can’t help it.  I been told I think more like a man, I cuss like a sailor on shore leave, and I really do appreciate bathroom humor.  I’m used to the blank stares I get from some when I tell a joke or snort wine out my nose because I found something inappropriately funny that I probably shouldn’t have.  But that’s just me and I don’t hide it.  I’m still invited to functions so I don’t feel like I’ve ever gone too far.  (((Although I think it’s always the women’s husbands that want me to come. Not because I’m some “all that” hottie, because you know I really am the shiz-net, but because I’m a woman that can just hang with the boys and they appreciate that. And I can tell them when they are being stupid pricks and need to buy their wives roses. Ladies you should maybe appreciate my input into your lives more…. Just sayin’… Do you really believe that fancy meal he cooked you while you sat in a bath prepared by him and drank that lovely bottle of wine while the kids are off at a baby sitters that he arranged was his idea??? HA! Keep dreaming!)))

Anyways, so where was I? Ah yes, my lacking of a social life.  Which has also gotten more lacking since having a baby.  That one needs no explanation since the majority of my readers all have kids.  You know how it goes. The phone rings:

“A bar-be-que? Great! What time? Ohhhh… Hmmmm… That’s right in the middle of nap time… Honey? What do you think? Ya, I agree… Thanks so much for the invite… but we are going to have to pass this time.  Duty calls and naps make the world go round.”

But the other aspect of my past lacking of social outings is my aversion to all things girly.  That whole dressing up, getting cute, only to attempt to impress another woman with the quality of your shoe choice. Chatting.  Catting.  Bitching. Wishing. All of those things that make going out with the ladies for me a struggle.  I’ve never felt like I could fit in there.  That and the fact that my bathroom humor is usually only welcomed in mixed company and I tend to find myself silent and sitting in the corner willing myself to strengthen that mental filter between my brain and my mouth.  I find it difficult when someone is bitching about how awful their husband is to do the girl “support network” thing. I end up playing devils advocate and calling the poor weeping woman out about how maybe if she would just let the poor fool play his video games one night each week without nagging him then maybe he would be more understanding and willing to hop to and do the dishes when she asked him.  Then I tell a dirty joke and go home early doing a little different kind of walk of shame in to my house.  I’m telling you, I can’t help it!  I seriously must have been a man in a past life.

That’s why last night was so important and kind of a break through moment for me.  In the last few tennis seasons (yes I mark time by the Spring, Summer, Fall tennis seasons and Winter is marked with Christmas tree lights-o-plenty) I have made a few friends within my ladies tennis team.  These women, while very different then me, find my twisted humor rather funny. Or at least they laugh with me and not at me.  And they don’t give me the blank stare of death when my filter in my brains burps out something iffy.  We all have tennis in common, and kids, and well… in many cases that’s just it.  But for some reason we get along.  Last night we took our seasonal tennis friendship off the court and to the bar where we had wine and these little snacky things that I think were supposed to be food. We drank, and laughed, and told stories, got to know each other better.  And I walked away with a sense that I was truly welcomed.  As we parted at the door and said that we HAD to do this again, we truly meant it.  I truly meant it. I want to spend more time around these ladies without men as the buffers for me.  It was a wonderful night that I came home and told my husband would sustain me and keep me smiling for a long time.

I had no idea how much I’ve changed as a parent. How much that little extra pulling out of the social world did to me.  How much as a mom I found that I needed to be able to relate to other moms.  On line, in the blogosphere, it is really easy to say “hay, I can relate to that story.  Let me tell you what happened to me.” But you never really get that good ole’ sense of true understanding as you get when you’re sitting at a table of other women, moms, not talking about your children necessarily, but talking about… life.  We are women in the same daily grind. We are women with priorities other than each other. We are women who never want to forget ourselves.  We are women reminding each other that we are selfless and it’s ok to be selfish.  It was eye opening and moving.  The wind in my sails for the next few weeks. I can’t wait till the next gust!