Tuesday, May 27, 2014

If You Tell a 3-Year Old to Clean Her Room

If you tell a 3-year old to clean her room, she will pretend not to hear you.

When she pretends not to hear you, you will ask her again. This time louder.

When you ask her again, she will pretend she’s a dog and therefore unable to clean her room.

When she pretends to be a dog and therefore unable to clean her room, you will threaten to put her in time out.

When you threaten to put her in time out she will pick up one toy just to tease you and then immediately put it down again.

When she picks up a toy just to tease you and then puts it down again, you will lose your mind and you will yell.

When you lose your mind and yell, she will pout and cry and make you feel like a horrible person.

Then she will ask you to do her hair.

When she asks you to do her hair, you will do it to prove that you are not actually a horrible person.

After you do her hair and prove you are not a horrible person, you will kindly ask her to clean her room.

This will remind her that it’s time to jump off of the couch.

When you see her jumping off of the couch instead of cleaning her room, you will threaten to start throwing away toys that are not put up.  You will pick up a toy horse and ask her if it is going in her room or in the trash.

When you threaten to throw her toys in the trash, she will call your bluff and tell you to throw her toy horse in the trash.

You will walk to the trash and say, “I’m serious!”.  She will say simply, “Trash.”

When she tells you to throw her toy horse in the trash, you will cave and set it on the lid of the trashcan because you will be reminded that you waited in line one hour at Toys ‘R’ Us at Christmas time to buy the toy horse.

Thinking of this will make you realize that Santa got all the credit for that one and you’re not even appreciated.  Then you will be broken.

When your 3-year old sees that you are broken, she will show mercy and go upstairs to clean her room. She will come down and tell you proudly that she cleaned her room and ask if you want to see it.  You will go upstairs.  She will hold your hand, soothing your frazzled mind and your battered soul.

And when you see her room you will realize that you have just been schooled by a 3-year old.








Wednesday, May 21, 2014

Things I Said Out Loud Part Deux

Things I have said within a 1-hour window.

"Stop drinking the shower water from the floor."

"Stop licking the shower door."

"Please stop brushing my eyebrows with your toothbrush."

"Stop brushing your toes with your toothbrush."

"No, you may not brush my eye."

"No, you can't touch my eyeball."

"No, I don't think it is good for your eyebrows to brush them with your toothbrush."

"The toothbrush is for brushing your teeth...only."

"No, you can't brush my teeth."

"Get my hair out of your mouth."

"I think I've told you once already to get the toothbrush off of your eyebrow and your toes."


What's the strangest thing you've said out loud today?

Friday, May 16, 2014

Don't Do This

If you decide to make steak for your husband's birthday, that is a good idea.  If you also decide to make a baked potato with it and absolutely no other green vegetables because he really isn't a fan of vegetables and only eats them out of necessity, that is a good idea. If you decide to make him two steaks because he often jokes that he just wants a second steak for dessert, that is a good idea. If you pick out the best steaks you can find, research the best way to cook them and slather them in butter, that is a good idea.  If you then cut a hole in each one of those steaks and put in birthday candles so you can claim you made him birthday steaks which you think is a hilarious pun cause get it, it rhymes with birthday cake? Don't do that. That's not going to turn out the way you thought.



You see, it turns out that steak that you just got out of a 425 degree oven is hot actually.  So unless you are wanting to give your husband a steak that will have a blue wax speckled center, don't do this.

Tuesday, May 13, 2014

Bedtime Hulk

I’m not going to lie. Tonight was tough.  It was one of those nights that tried my patience.  It was one of those nights where I developed a deep understanding of what Bruce Banner feels like right before he morphs into the Hulk.

Bedtime is the kryptonite to my parenting mojo.  I could be Mary Poppins all day but when 7:00 hits you can find me yelling, “Just brush your teeth! Your teeth! Brush them!  For the love of God why can’t you just brush your teeth.”

Bedtime is not one of my finer moments.  I feel like I have a finite amount of parenting peace and tranquility and it runs out around 7:00.  This does not gel well with my children’s energy level with spikes around 7:00.  Around 7:00 they remind me of the meth heads that I used to take care of in the ER.  The ones that wouldn’t stop talking or moving or yelling or talking or moving.  Around 7:00 they turn into pint-sized ravers hopped up on Pixie sticks with a sprinkle of crack.

I just don’t understand why the children who have been fiercely independent the rest of the day are now requiring instructions like, “Put the toothpaste on your toothbrush.  Now brush your teeth.  Brush, don’t just hold the toothbrush in your mouth.  You have to move your toothbrush!”

I’ve tried it all.  I’ve left the room to calm myself when I can hear myself start yelling.  I’ve tried some yoga breaths.  I’ve tried to practice some mindfulness, but all that new age shit ain’t got nothing on my kids who at one point were jumping around the living room wearing only underwear and cowboy hats.  I bet if Buddha had kids around while seeking enlightment, his path to awakening would have involved a lot less meditation and a lot more drinking.

I wish I could end this post with a “and then I figured out what the secret to a calm bedtime routine was”.  I can’t.  I will tell you that I apologized to Hudson for sometimes loosing my temper.  I promised him I would work on it if he would work on listening.  He gave me his hand to shake on it.  That was nice, but I have a feeling we’ll be in the same place tomorrow.

I guess I just wrote this for anyone else reading this that feels like they may blow an aneurysm every night.  You are not alone and I raise my glass to you, frazzled parent, cause that was a rough one.


Saturday, May 10, 2014

I Just Don't Appreciate Bird Poop

I’m all about enjoying the little things in life. Take nothing for granted. There are some things though, that are beyond my appreciation. Like bird poop. I’m not thankful for bird poop. My son though? He has a whole other Dali Lama zen master appreciation for the often overlooked aspects of life.

 “Guess what happened today?  While we were doing something, I saw bird poop.”
“Oh?”

Must have been a slow day in the school yard.

I didn’t really know where to go from here.  I can normally feign some enthusiasm, but even for me this was a stretch.  “Really!!  What kind?  Was is runny? What color was it?” Nope. Not happening. Thankfully Kenzie stepped up to the plate with her observations on the bird poop topic.

“A bird can’t just poop a second time the first time.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” replied Hudson.

We're going to start our own talk show called "You'll Have No Idea What We're Talking About".  It will be wildly successful and we'll tell you if you should vaccinate your kids or not and why you're the worst parent ever.

So I’m still not sure what he was doing that led to the bird poop discovery at school and I’m not sure what led to the discussion of a bird’s bowel habits. I do know this though.  I will never be that excited about bird poop and I’d say about 75% I am completely clueless as to the conversations that happen around here.  Seriously, though...it won't stop me from telling you about why you're a horrible parent.

This I can appreciate.  What is sure to happen after this, not so much.


Monday, May 5, 2014

The Things That Did, Did Not, and Will Happen

I did pack two outfits and two pairs of shoes because as of that morning, I still didn’t know what I was wearing.

I did choose the tall red ones because I was worried about not being able to see over the podium.  I did not think looking like Kilroy would be a good look.

I did alternate between zen calm and complete ohmygoddwhatdidIgetmyselfinto freakout.

I got to the theater and I did alternate between zen calm and ohmygodwhatdidwegetourselvesinto with my castmates.

I did take this selfie with my friend and cast mate Stephanie from Hugs, Kisses, and Snot before the show.


I did pee several times beforehand secondary to nervous bladder.

I did not pee myself on stage.

I did worry about tripping on stage.

I did briefly consider smuggling one of those stylish comfy chairs from the set home.

I did not engage in criminal activity and left the chairs as they were.

I did combat my cotton mouth with about a gallon of water and Altoids by the handful.

I did not trip on my way to the podium.

I worried about losing my place, talking too loud, too quiet, and/or passing out.

I did not do any of those things.  I was able to see over the podium.  I did applaud my shoe choice.

I cried, laughed, cringed, and cheered at the stories even though I have heard them before because they were that good. I did feel honored to be there.

I did make new friends and I will not forget them.

I will never forget their stories.

I will encourage you, you reading this right now, to write down your own story. You have one and it will be uniquely yours yet the story of someone else all at the same time.

I will encourage you to go to a Listen To Your Mother show near you next year.

You will not regret it.

Photo Credit: Hugs, Kisses, and Snot.