I Dreamed a Dream

I have a fantasy.

I dream that someday I will have a bathroom all my own. A just for mommy bathroom that smells like lavendar and is practically sterile in its cleanliness.

And its toilet seat? Oh that thing will be pee free.

It will be a bathroom where I can sit on the toilet and NEVER have the horrifying realization that my butt is suddenly damp.

The walls and floor will be pee free (we're potty training and L's stream seems to arc upward, even when his winkle is pointed down). There will be no vague smell of stale urine, despite frequent scrubbing of all walls and floor with cleanser.

I wouldn't care if it was a toilet in the closet. I just want to know that when I go in to heed the call of nature, I won't be forced to smell and/or sit in somone else's pee.

Is that too much to ask?

Pissed off Because I'm Sitting in Someone Else's Pee,
Charlie

Commit to the Carry...Or Else!

"I'm sure it's just a phase..." says every mom.

At the moment, we are in the "Carry Me Everywhere" phase.  G wants to be held when walking to and from the car, walking into any sort of retail setting, and mostly anytime he realizes his feet are on the ground.  But God forbid I should try to alleviate some of the weight being lugged around by my left arm.

Example: Entering Target to pick up some much needed "stuff": Upon entering the store, I asked G if he would like to push the cart or ride with his brother.  Neither option was acceptable and he began screaming "up there" which is G code for "carry me."

Instead of having a repeat of "The Great Smith's Incident" when I watched an almost 2-year-old G throw himself on the ground and scream in the most epic breakdown I have ever had the pleasure of being the mom of, I picked him up.

As I was wandering through Target, I randomly leaned my left arm on the handle of the cart, at which time, G grabbed my shirt and pulled himself back towards my collarbone.  When I removed my arm from the handle, he relaxed and let go; content to be carried.  A few moments later, I leaned my left arm again, and again he pulled himself back towards my collar bone.  Thinking it was just a fluke, I tried the same trick at Trader Joe's the next day and got the same results.  At home, I tried leaning on the kitchen island, and again with the grabbing my shirt and pulling.

And then it dawned on me...I wasn't Committing to the Carry.  How dare I pick him up and drag him all over the place and not truly commit to his full 26 pounds for extended periods of time?  How dare I try to alleviate the shaking in my elbow, the ache of my wrist and the wear and tear on my shoulder?  What kind of selfish monster am I anyway?

Pammy


Interjection by Charlie: Ugh! I know all about "Commit to the Carry!" When B was 2, he went through a horrible Commit to the Carry phase-- so terrible that I made my mother-in-law sew me a giant toddler sized sling. Yup, you read that right, I once lugged my fully capable of walking 2 year old around stores and airports in a sling, like some patchouli smelling hippie.

Dear Mommy & Me Moms

Dear Mommy and Me Swimming Class Mom--

Don't frickin' wear a tiny bikini to class. We get it. You are hot and probably worked hard to get back in shape post-partum. Brava! Go you! However, the majority of us are still a bit squodgy and lumpy with baby weight (is it still "baby weight" two years later?). You're just making us look bad. Please invest in a tankini and save the bikini for the fabulous tropical vacation I imagine you go on every year.

With your trainer.

His name is D'Angelo. He's 22.

Thanks!

Mama C

The Packing List of a 5-Year-Old

My little sister Tia just had a BABY!!  We are flying to Chicago to meet my new niece/nephew towards the end of the month, so  imagine my surprise when, a few weeks ago, Lil' J woke me up at the crack of dawn one morning to let me know he was packed, 4 weeks early, for our trip.  When I asked him what he had put together, this is the list I was given: 

• blankie
• a silver dubloon
• Hook
• Best Word Book Ever
• a telescope
• his toothbrush
• an apple
• Spidey flip flops

I can't imagine what else we might need...but I suppose I can just buy it when we get there. 

Pammy

P.S. I would like to give Target a shout-out for their low prices and convenient locations nationwide.  

Pinterest Has Ruined Birthday Parties

Remember when you were a kid and you'd have your birthday party? You usually had a blast, running around the yard with your friends, your mom made some watered down Kool-Aid or Hawaiian Punch, you ate hot dogs with some plain potato chips for lunch, and then out came your cake-- probably something your mom made (with the help of Betty Crocker) or a grocery store bakery cake with the requisite frosting roses. Decorations were some crepe paper streamers, a paper table cloth emblazoned with HAPPY BIRTHDAY and that same HAPPY BIRTHDAY banner that your parents busted out for every birthday for every person in your family.  Planned activities, if there were any, were along the lines of a 3-legged or potato sack race.

And your party was AWESOME, right?

But now thanks in large part to Pinterest, the pressure is on to create birthday parties worthy of a 4 page spread in Martha Stewart Living. Over the top theme parties are no longer the realm of the Candy Spellings of the world, oh nooooo, now all us regular moms have to throw them too. And then blog about that shit.

According to my vast Pinterest research, I have learned that every party needs:

• A theme. NO, not just "Mickey Mouse," but "MICKEY MOUSETOPIA" or "AMAZING MATTHEW'S MIGHTY MICKEY MOUSE-TASTIC PARTY EXTRAVAGANZA"
• A "treats" table, covered in at least 15 yards of fabric you purchased just for the party (but no worries, you're so crafty you'll just turn that fabric into commemorative wall art and throw pillows that your child will treasure for always). Behind the treats table, you must also have a backdrop of some kind (though it must include a pennant banner with your child's name on it). On the table you must have no less that 28 types of sweet treats, all labelled with adorable thematic name cards-- You may not call them "malt balls" you must call them "Miska, Mooska, Malted Balls." Items on this table must be on antique cake stands at varying levels for maximum appeal.
• You must provide not only cake, but also cake pops, and cupcakes. All of these items must be thematic and gluten free. Preferably from a fancy-schmancy bakery.
• A totes adorbs chalkboard menu of all the thematic foods (so Hot Diggity Dogs and Mickey Mouse Club Sandwiches). This menu MUST look as though a professional chalk artist created it. Bonus points if the frame of the chalkboard is made of vintage barn wood that's paint has been distressed and matches the color scheme of the party.
• Did I mention color scheme? Yup, your party needs that. You may NOT use anything that does not fit within the color scheme
• At LEAST 12 crafts/activity stations. There should be a lot of hand-crafting, such as needlepoint or origami going on here. Perhaps think about renting a loom. What's that? You're getting a bounce house? Wow. Way to not commit to the party. It is like you don't even love your child!
• Personalized treat bags and party hats (No paper. These should be authentic mickey mouse ears from Disneyland) for each guest. The treat bags should be linen and hand embroidered with each guest's name.
• A kid's table decorated with all the thematic crap you can imagine. This should NEVER just be your family patio table and/or dining table. It should be a kid sized table and chairs rented specifically for this occasion. You should have several glass items and as much "authentic" memorabilia as possible.
• The birthday child's name should show up no less than 4,000 times. Because your job as a parent is to ensure your child grows up to be a narcissist.
• Actual flatware, glassware and china. Because nothing says "fun three year old's party" like toddlers and breakable dishes!

This list is in no way comprehensive, but it gives a good idea of what we're dealing with in the realm of party planning for our kids. Pinterest has ruined birthday parties forever...

Pinterestingly yours,
Charlie "phoning it in and getting a bounce house" Egan

PS-- Just found a pin about dressing up your band aids with washi tape. File that under "are you shitting me?" They make decorated band aids. I know, because I have 4 boxes of them in my linen closet.

Locksmith Anyone?

My 5-year-old locked me out of the house today.  I feel like I could just end my story right there.

As I was walking a friend of mine to her car, Lil' J closed the door, locked it, and proceeded to his water table antics in the backyard.  I tried knocking, but didn't dare ring the doorbell since the 2-year-old was sleeping and we have idiots for dogs.

Sans shoes and in skin scorching 95 degree weather, I hiked my way into the backyard; stepping on every sharp rock and pointy stick ever created by nature.  Of course, the gate was locked so I had to try my newest yoga move, "Go, Go Gadget Arms," to reach the lock.

 Once I walked through the gate, the little snot was laughing at me.

Seriously?  It was no accident!  The only thing that kept me from getting mad before I saw him laughing was that I assumed, wrongly, that he thought I was in the house and he was being cautious. Turns out, he has it in for me.

I wonder what he will think of the pickle juice in his orange juice tomorrow morning?

Payback is just like Mama!

Pammy

Toddlers & Tattoos

Right now, my two year old is rockin' a face tattoo that would make Mike Tyson proud. A self-inflicted, Sharpie tattoo, that is. On top of his face tattoo he has also given himself arm & leg tattoos. And my couch has some super rad ink too.

All of this occurred in the maybe 5 minutes in which I had the audacity to heed the call of nature. Apparently, that is all the time my Sharpie ninja needs to scale the kitchen counter, retrieve a permanent marker from the pen cup hanging on the wall, and then go to town on his skin/the couch's microfiber.

The BEST part? That shit won't wash off! We are on day 3 and it has merely faded (see below). So I get to be the mom hauling baby Mike Tyson around Target.

Toddlers are awesome.

--Charlie

(And btw, that Pinterest tip about rubbing alcohol cleaning microfiber? Yeah, doesn't work so well for marker, just fyi. On top of the stains from spilled sippies and grubby feet, there is now a haze of blue ink surrounding darker blue ink lines on my couch. I'm thinking the only thing that will help my poor stained couch is a blowtorch...)

I Just Tenured My Way Into the Mom's Club!

Lil' J is 5 and totally awesome.  He pairs up some of the most fantastic outfits, he passes gas in public constantly, and has mooned his aunt in the middle of a Thai restaurant.

A great friend of mine came into town this week for a conference (we live in Sin City baby)!  We made plans to meet up with her at Rainforest Cafe in the MGM.  Big J, Lil' J, G and I were making our way through the casino when a snappy Katy Perry song came on.  I started singing and dancing and asked Lil' J if he would get in on the act with me.  He normally jumps at the chance to show off his spastic 5-year-old moves and singing at the top of his lungs.  In a stunning change of events, he whispered "Stop dancing in front of the people."

My mind wasn't sure how to process that little gem.  And then it dawned on me...I have the ability to embarass my son!  I remember the first time my mom was jamming out to Muzak, singing at the top of her lungs at the Commissary (military grocery store for you civilians), and I wanted to crawl under a rock.  That's some serious power I now wield!

I am a tenured member of the Mommy Club!

I made a mental note to use extreme caution while he is still young and I like him.  However, it would serve him well to remember when he is a hormonal, testy teenager that I am a powerful, powerful woman with a set of lungs like Mariah and moves like Jagger.

Play That Funky Music,
Pammy