Threats, bluffs, and tears
You can’t take off naked.… Read More Threats, bluffs, and tears
Category: sleep deprivation
Pneumostome
Ever wish you had an extra air hole to breathe through?… Read More Pneumostome
Resuscitation of Hope
“Special needs” means just that, a need, not a limitation.… Read More Resuscitation of Hope
I miss me too.
It would be dishonest of me to say I don’t miss my old life. I do, but not most of it, just my friends. Ok, and maybe my waistline, being able to talk on the phone, sleeping in, using the bathroom by myself but, still, mostly my friends. New Year’s Eve reminded me of that… Read More I miss me too.
Pillow Power
We’re pillow people. Correction, the kids and I are pillow people. My husband is not. He’s one of those folks that could sleep on a bare floor with a block under his head. I, on the other hand, am not such a person. As tough as I might be in other areas of my life… Read More Pillow Power
Finger crotch.
I have to make the peace sign with my right hand for another week. Of all the moronic injuries this one embarrasses me the most. Avocado hand. Note to self, don’t wield a knife when your toddler is climbing the baby gate to the kitchen, shaking it, and screaming at you as you cut into… Read More Finger crotch.
Acute exhaustion.
Bilateral acute otitis media (a.k.a screaming nonverbal child, a.k.a. maternal tinnitus, a.k.a. sudden depression), better known as double ear infection and raging fevers. “Poor baby, he must be in so much pain.” He is and so am I. Physically from being headbutted, scratched, and trying to hold forty pounds of a thrashing body so he… Read More Acute exhaustion.
It’s a mother of a day.
The day started with being awake for two hours and longing for coffee as I awaited the “surprise” breakfast in bed. I listened to the chaos in the other room and wondered how long till someone cried. All the while feeling guilty for not being more appreciative on the day I’ve been told that everyone… Read More It’s a mother of a day.
Grasping at water.
This is the closest I’ll ever be to you. I remember laying on my side, rubbing my planetary belly, looking out the window into the night sky, speaking to Nora in my womb. It was the closest she would ever be to me physically yet, even then, separate and unfathomable. Her own heart pattering away,… Read More Grasping at water.
Fork you and your words.
Owen was two. He was speaking seventeen words. He told his dad he loved him. I barely could get him to say “mama”. Home with him every hour of the day and he tells his father, “I love you.” I was Barbara’s jealous resentment. He rarely kissed. If he did it was without using his… Read More Fork you and your words.
HAVE A GOOD DAY!
Owen and I were holding hands as we walked back to the car along the sidewalk from dropping off Nora for school. Drop-off is always hard for him and today was the first time, after a month, that he didn’t cry. He loves his sister so much but he shows it in ways that are… Read More HAVE A GOOD DAY!
My ass and I don’t care if you stare.
I’m done hating the mirror. My dumpy forty-something ass is as done with you as I am. Stare at it all you want. It doesn’t talk back but I will. I’m a mom, a writer, an educated woman who cusses, and that woman is all out of &^%#$ to care about your opinion on how… Read More My ass and I don’t care if you stare.
My boobs: a love-hate relationship
I’m so top heavy I can’t lay on my back without suffocating or creating armrests in my armpits. My cleavage seems to start at my chin. (This is my super flattering selfie to illustrate.) Running feels like parts of my body are being ripped off by unseen forces. When I have to chase after my… Read More My boobs: a love-hate relationship
The mom paradox: internal solitary confinement
I don’t want to be here today. I don’t want to be anywhere. It’s too hard to be a mom today. It’s too hard to do this in my internal solitary confinement any longer. I wish I wasn’t myself. I wish I was that mom. The mom society expects me to be. A mom who… Read More The mom paradox: internal solitary confinement
Toddlerhood: A test of a parents love
“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
The marrow of joy.
“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.
An end of an era.
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.
I’ll be crazy, you say when.
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.
2 years and 4.9 years
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
Childbirth, motherhood, and other torture
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
Parenting hacks for whackadoos: Part 2
– 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
RSVP already, don’t be an a$$hole
How do you explain in a way to an almost five year old, and an almost two year old, that people are assholes without saying “assholes”? How do you ease the hurt of being stood up at your own party? How do you explain the rejection from a friend? It’s hard not to think back… Read More RSVP already, don’t be an a$$hole
Keenly aware that this crying annoys me.
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.
I have proof
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
Nora-isms of December
“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
22 months: Opposable thumbs and opinions, oh my!
“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!
Nora-isms of November
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
Nora-isms of October
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
Nora-isms of September
“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
Parenting hacks for whackadoos
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
They’re my reason
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
Baby Shake Weight
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
This cow goes meow.
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.
Nora-isms of June
“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
Teddy bears and other sexual toys
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
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
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
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 
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