I hate summer. I don’t mean that in a hyperbolic, whiny, “Oh gawd, this sucks!”-whingey reality tv star way. I mean that I start to have panic attacks in May realizing that (in a Game of Thrones foreboding voice) summer is coming. If it was a zombie, I would make Rick cringe with the beat down I would… Read More Summer Fun: How I keep from losing my $#!+ lately
Women who can’t find a job to support and care for their children let alone another one. Women who have been told that their baby in utero has no heartbeat. Survivors of rape. Shall I continue? Are you uncomfortable yet? How about me? A mother of two who has had two abortions. Two. Not because… Read More Not every sperm is sacred.
Puppetry of the Penis, hands down one of the weirdest, yet funniest, live performances I’ve ever seen. I remember thinking at the time that I would probably never see something quite as strange again in my life. Then I had children. Post bathtime our son likes to pull on his scrotum and contort it into… Read More Puppetry of the Penis, a.k.a. our son
Do you often feel as if (whatever screen you are looking at) is screaming back at you, “What do you believe?!” Personally, I believe in love and kindness. That is my simple truth. I hold onto the smell of my children’s hair, the touch of their hand, and the sweet bliss of them sleeping when… Read More What do you believe?
My parenting is more like the show Louie than Mary Poppins. I quite often wait for them to sleep and feel my days at times punctuated by this rhythm of cook, feed, clean, play, sleep, repeat… I’ll notice I’m going on autopilot and sense their malaise as they pass over the toys their habituated to… Read More Oh, to be well-intentioned.
Nora is grinning and bearing her belly. I look up from writing and smile, “Uh-oh, is my hand going to tickle you?” A squeal of laughter and she’s off running after answering, “YES!” Owen joins in and chases after her giggling, “Nawnie-nawnie-na-na, sista’!!” We tickle her tummy and then Nora turns to Owen, “Oo-ie?! Do you… Read More Consent starts with parents.
The first time I felt suicidal was when I was seven. I was being bullied by my classmates and teacher during the day and then at home. I didn’t see how life would improve. It didn’t for a long time. I’ve never purposefully attempted suicide but some could look at my past behavior and say… Read More Biking on a broken leg.
It’s the stated or implied crux of most of our dilemmas in life it seems. We search for answers to solving obstacles and challenges based on the information we have, biased by our experiences, buoyed by our sense of reality that’s rooted in what we believe to be true. Is this the right parenting choice?… Read More Is it normal?
All mothers ask themselves at some point, maybe even daily, “Do all moms feel this crazy?” The scientific causes might surprise you. In the Atlantic article, “What Happens to a Woman’s Brain When She Becomes a Mother“, by Adrienne Lafrance, she summarizes several studies that have looked at the maternal brain. Our “mom brain” moments… Read More “Mom” from your cells up.
Jill Smokler reflected on her blogging career in her article, “How Blogging Has Changed Since 2008”, that: “Then: You started a free blog on Blogger and hit publish. Now: You pay for a url. You pay… You curse Facebook for not showing your blog to enough people. You pay for wine because, dammit, you need a drink… You pay… Read More When I grow up.
“We don’t always get what we want!” Not my finest, or most original, moment of parenting. Not the kindest either. Shared illness amongst us, lack of sleep, and the infinite meltdowns of a verbally struggling two year old had me barking clichéd guilt trips at my five year old daughter this past week. Even with… Read More Your entitled to hear me say “no”.
The mylar balloons have popped (with help from mama when she therapeutically needed to stab something). The presents have been screened before you had a chance to dive in at home and find the elicit Barbie doll (all those late pre-Christmas nights with a precise Exacto knife along tape seams taught me well). The thank… Read More Birthday or bust!
“Mama, you said a bad word.” My mind raced through all the muttered curse words I thought she hadn’t heard that day. The mouthed or spelled obscenities shared with other adults in her presence. Fuck, she can spell and read now, dumbass! I swallowed the mammoth knot in my throat along with my pride, trying… Read More Good words, bad uses
“Artist Turns DNA From Chewed Gum Into Sculptures” the article in Popular Science said. My brain immediately grumbled to myself, “Goddamn hipsters and their coffee cups on our fence and walls… They’re all for saving the planet but not if it means giving up cigarettes and paper cups of coffee that they litter on our… Read More Dog mines, diaper bombs, and coffee kids.
– Stinky garbage can? Stuck bag, again? Baking soda at the bottom of the can. It wards off mold and mildew, absorbs moisture, and it keeps the bag from sticking making it less likely to rip and easier to pull out. Find a mess at the bottom of the can when you pull the bag… Read More Parenting hacks for whackadoos: Part 3
“What’s So Terrible About Two?” The benign article asked. My brain screamed, “Really? REALLY, assholes?!” They meant to be uplifting in their message, they meant to give people hope, to show that it isn’t that bad. At least I think so but I had trouble reading it as Owen was busy pulling a skintag off… Read More Toddlerhood: A test of a parents love
I opened my BBC news app to see the headline “BBC News: New Zealand ‘cat burglar’ caught stealing men’s underwear“. It immediately reminded me of our departed cat, Peter, and his penchant for stealing my bras and underwear. He applied his unappreciated and illicit creativity by chewing, kneading, and shedding onto the items into a… Read More Reminiscing
“Don’t worry, mama. I got it.” She shimmied forward in her chair towards her large, stemmed water glass refusing my help in pushing in her chair. I bit my tongue and watched her swell with pride in her big kid abilities as she drank with complete focus. The day had been a success but like… Read More High Noon at High Tea
“It’s madness.” My friend, Molly, texts me to ask how I’m doing and that was my response. She’s my life-line to the outside world at times and always manages to make me smile. Our virtual conversations brighten my life and go back some seven plus years now online and started the day I pretended to… Read More The marrow of joy.
Remember the first time you understood what “popular” meant? Do you remember if you thought immediately as to whether or not it applied to you? I’ve never thought of myself as popular. Friendly, yes, but I was never prom queen or the girl with a full paper heart mailbox of Valentines from school. It makes… Read More Thank you for being a friend…
Downton Abbey will always remind me of the early days with my babies. Of cluster feedings, the agony of tongue-tiedness, colic, croup; long hours of trying to sleep sitting upright and the relief and responsibility all at once while snuggling warm little bodies that filled me with every type of emotion and worry. So it’s… Read More An end of an era.
You wouldn’t expect someone with a broken leg to ride a bike, so why would anyone expect someone mentally ill to function normally? Then again, since most of us are ill to some extent, should we all just cut each other some slack? Where do you establish your boundaries, your baseline level of tolerance, your… Read More I’ll be crazy, you say when.
The grass might be greener but that’s only because the shit is higher on that side of the fence. I can’t recall if I heard that somewhere or if my brain just made it up so let’s say “yes” and move on. So some of you have emailed or messaged me asking if I have any… Read More The grass is just deeper.
Sometimes I watch my kids play and I’m reminded of what it felt like to be high on something. To me, it’s the reason that anyone ever starts using drugs. To escape, to recapture that sense of wonder, to see the world as new again and feel nothing beyond the joy of your five visceral… Read More Is it my turn?
I don’t feel like a grown up. Most days I don’t feel like I should have been sent home from the hospital with a baby, twice. There are many occasions where I can’t shake the feeling that I’m waiting for the real parent, the grown up, to come pick up these kids and take them… Read More Grown up packaging
It’s the small moments of letting go that are the closest I come to feeling like maybe I have this mom-thing figured out for once. It’s the moment when Owen climbs into bed and blankets my head with his body and I chuckle in rare, surrendered delight instead of annoyance at being awoken yet again throughout… Read More 2 years and 4.9 years
Owen had three procedures to fix his posterior tongue tie beginning at two weeks, I was a complete mess struggling to manually express milk into his mouth while he attacked my boobs like a rabid animal, recovering from an unplanned c-section and traumatic birth, trying to recover from bronchitis and an ear infection at three… Read More Childbirth, motherhood, and other torture
In retrospect, I should have walked out when the doctor said, “I know you’re in pain but we really need to talk about your weight.” In tears, I responded, “I don’t care if I’m fat, I’m in agony and I’m ill.” That particular day, I couldn’t sit still or sit up straight because of the… Read More Being a grown up can kill you.
– A soap container for carrying crayons. – Baby food pouch caps can’t be recycled but you can reuse them. They make great necklaces and holiday garland. – Color coded laundry clips from the Dollar Store for each person’s towel in the bathroom to avoid sharing germs. – A couple drops of tea tree oil… Read More Parenting hacks for whackadoos: Part 2
How do you explain in a way to an almost five year old, and an almost two year old, that people are assholes without saying “assholes”? How do you ease the hurt of being stood up at your own party? How do you explain the rejection from a friend? It’s hard not to think back… Read More RSVP already, don’t be an a$$hole
Trust me, they’re all related to one another. I couldn’t sleep, my ears were itching, my throat was raw and dry, and I couldn’t get comfortable. Goddamn kid germs had taken hold. It was 1:04 a.m., I had the bed to myself so I could ostensibly “rest” but still no sleep. Two benadryl, L-Tryptophan, melatonin,… Read More Friends, cat vomit, and insomnia
Maybe it’s the SSRI toxicity scare this past summer and the subsequent weaning off of Zoloft, or maybe the fetal cells left behind by my babies, but I cry very easily now. I used to laugh in dismay at those that cried at commercials, the news, heartfelt articles about disease, children with diseases, or photos… Read More Keenly aware that this crying annoys me.
Nora was crying inconsolably after having a fight with Owen. He had just started walking at the time and was officially learning how to be a royal pain in the ass. She was a conflicted jumble of emotions. Loving her brother fiercely, desparately irritated with him, hurt to have to share our attention, pained to… Read More I have proof
She’s sleeping in our bed nested deep in the many layered covers that help me feel like a lead apron is upon me. (I felt very relaxed the first time I had an xray performed.) She’s sweaty and restless, successfully fighting off seasonal germs and bad dreams, most likely working out the stress of the… Read More New year, new tone
“What do you want to be when you’re older?” “Halloween. ” “Christmas is for presents!” “No, honey, it’s for being with people you love and spending time with them.” “Ooooh, ok, mama,” and in a whisper as I walk away, “…and cookies.” “Mama, can we watch the “Honk-ah” show?” “I’m sorry, honey, what?” “You know,… Read More Nora-isms of December
“Today will be different,” I think to myself. “Today I won’t lose my patience with them, I won’t yell or hide in the bathroom, I’ll interact whenever they want my attention and I won’t mind.” That was before I went to bed. Then it was 4am again and I was being awoken by our almost… Read More 22 months: Opposable thumbs and opinions, oh my!
Owen: “Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!” Nora: “Owen, please stop.” Owen: (silence) Nora: “Oh my, (reverent gasp) it worked.” Owen: “…………………AAAAAAAAAH!” Jamie has been out of town on a business trip. The kids were up at 3am every day asking for him. Good to know you’re missed, right? Except that Owen thinks I’m hiding him in the basement and… Read More Nora-isms of November
I hate summer. I love all the other seasons. I’ve tried to embrace it, I’ve tried to adapt, but as I near forty I’m assessing my life and discerning my spiritual truths. I can’t stand being overheated, sweating, insects being on or biting me, being blinded by bright light, the smell of cheap body products… Read More You’re such an August.
He strips all clothes off except for his shirt the moment he’s home. He builds cars, trains, and “towahs” with his Legos. He tries to snap his fingers and calls for Simone by clucking his tongue and calling her “Monie”. The crazy thing is she responds and comes to him. He feeds himself. He goes… Read More 21 months
Nora: “Dada, your eyes taste like pineapple.” Jamie: “…Thanks.” Nora: “Mama, you want a story?” “Sure, honey.” “Oh, wait, is Owen asleep? Because this is scary! There’s a dragon, a deer, and they’re walking for a LONG time…” (Damn, that is scary.) Nora: “Uh-oh, I think Owen pooped. He smells like soup.” (Note to self,… Read More Nora-isms of October
He says, “Bye-bye!” He waves as he leaves for the few hours away with a sitter. He’s smiling, Nora is cheering him on, “C’mon, Owen, let’s go!” She’s decked out in the outfit she chose, put on herself after getting herself ready in the bathroom where she asked for “privacy”, she has toothpaste on her… Read More 20 months
“Mama? The moon is coming up too early!” Bedtime is evil. Remember, you can’t spell “police” without saying “pie”. Nora: “Mama, I need the “pie” piece!” Me: “Which (Lego) piece is that?” Nora: “The one with the letters that say “pie”.” Me: (Holding up one saying “POLICE”) “Nora, do you mean this one?” Nora: “Yeah!”… Read More Nora-isms of September
There’s something about the term whackadoo that makes me smile. The first time I heard it was from a coworker who hailed from Oklahoma. She said, “Well, you know, any state that allows open containers while you drive, has drive thru bars, but tickets you for being drunk is obviously ran by whackadoos.” Amen, sister.… Read More Parenting hacks for whackadoos
An acquaintance once said to me, “It’s so good to see you haven’t lost yourself in being a mom.” (Before you ask, yes, she’s not a parent and, no, I didn’t claw her eyes out.) I merely smiled, momentarily bit my tongue, and calmly replied, “I’m still me and I’m also a mom.” She tried… Read More They’re my reason
Our drunk looking Gilligan got a clean bill of health for his 18 month wellness check. 75th percentile for weight and heigth, 98% for foot length and head circumference. (I could have told you that. Or at least my uterus could have.) My baby is a Shake Weight. You would think that it would improve… Read More Baby Shake Weight
Boys will be boys and girls will be…victims?… Read More I’m a bad girl.
June 2nd, 2015 We’re playing a losing game of family bingo. The object of the game is that everyone sleeps through the night without crying, soaking the bed, or causing themselves trauma or injury. Our kids really suck at this game. I’m waiting at the finish line to hug them but I’m so sleep deprived… Read More This cow goes meow.
“I don’t get to do ANYTHING, I am EVERYTHING, I DON’T LIKE it, and I – no, no, NOOO!” Three minutes later after she channeled Sam Kinnison she takes on an English accent ala’-Peppa the Pig, “Mum’a, may I have a tea party, please?” (Why, yes, sweetness and light. Of course I’ll go out of… Read More Nora-isms of June
Selfies, the modern narcissists’ version of slideshow parties and vanity plates. We’re happy for you, Steve, that you went to Dubai and that Chapman Chutney III is first chair in his pan flute class but please stop with the selfie stick action sequences on your GoPro, ok? A little goes a long way when it… Read More Teddy bears and other sexual toys
Baby care 101: 1. Don’t drop the baby. 2. Feed the baby. 3. Stay awake so you can avoid 1 and complete 2! It took me 10 months to incubate him, 72+ hours of torture to get him out, and over a year of patience to keep him from hurting himself. Wake up damn you!… Read More Baby care 101
So many layers of emotion with the memory of this photo. The fact that this three day weekend has been hellish, that I’ve been struggling physically and wish I could have been drinking the entire time so I enjoyed my kids and didn’t want to run away, that I was a better mother who was… Read More Pottery Barn family
So many layers of emotion with the memory of this photo. The fact that this three day weekend has been hellish, that I’ve been struggling physically and wish I could have been drinking the entire time so I enjoyed my kids and didn’t want to run away, that I was a better mother who was… Read More Pottery Barn family
Kelso Kids 
You must be logged in to post a comment.