Friday was another fabulous adventure in mothering. Little man was severely constipated and was refusing to bend his knees to help the process along. After several hours of the crying and pain I couldn't take it anymore and finally managed to force him onto the toilet seat. Well of course, he got a little out but it was on the toilet seat. In the process of trying to re-diaper a screaming, wiggling, flailing child, he managed to pick up the poop that was on the toilet seat and took off running out of the bathroom. It takes me a few seconds to get up off the floor (big belly, soreness etc.) so by the time I caught up to him he had somehow gotten it on his foot and tracked it all over the living room floor, kitchen floor and kitchen table. Eeew, eeew, eww. So I get to clean that up.
Fast forward to bath time that night. Of COURSE the warm bath water loosened things up for the munchkin. Chris was bathing Connor while I was cleaning toothpaste from the sink and counter (apparently all males develop the habit of leaving globs of toothpaste everywhere at an early age) when I got a whiff of stink.
"Chris did he poop in the bathtub?"
"No."
"Are you sure because I smell it?"
Chris starts fishing around under the bubbles and sure enough...
Eeeeewww! Instead of taking Connor out of the bath like I think would be the typical first reaction he starts frantically fishing turds out of the water.
"Chris! Take him out! He can't just continue to soak in a pool of shit!"
So Chris took him to the other bathroom because he still had soap in his hair. Great! Now I am cleaning up poop for the second time in one day...and we are not even potty training. And when there is poop in the bathtub there is a lot of cleaning involved. You have to clean the tub, all the toys that were in the water, the washcloths, sponges etc. PAIN IN THE A!
Now onto the no pants. Not that I can really blame the stress of Friday for my brain farts on Sunday but there is no other explanation. I just walked out in my front yard to get the newspaper wearing nothing but a t-shirt and granny panties. Woops. I really have lost my mind.
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Monday, March 14, 2011
Why aren't we born knowing that running in the street is not funny?
There are some things that seem impossible to teach. We are born with the natural ability to breathe, blink, cry etc. so why do children not know that it hurts when you stick things in your eye and that it is not funny to run into the street? We are having the hardest time with the latter. Today I took Connor to my parent's house who live in the country so their house is set back about two acres from the street. There is a circular driveway that I have to admit begs for foot races. As we were leaving today, Connor bolted out of the garage straight to the edge of the driveway where it meets the road. My mom and I both yelled at him to stop but I always hesitate to chase him because that only seems to add fuel l to the fire and make him run faster. He stopped, turned around and started at my mom for a few seconds then took off down the street cracking up.
Have you ever seen a barefoot 60-year-old woman and a pregnant chick in flip flops running as fast as they can? Not pretty. Luckily there were no cars coming and my mom got to Connor before he made it too far but the whole incident scared the poo out of me. How do I deal with this? It is not like other behavioral problems where I warn him not to do it, he does it anyway and then he gets spanked and put in time out. If I let him do this he could get run over by a car?! I mean, we are all about spanking but potential emergency room visit or worse...not happening!!
To make things even more difficult, I am at the fat point in my pregnancy where I can't pick him up anymore and by the time I get these tree trunks moving he is 20 feet ahead of me. Is it time for a kid leash? Am I going to be one of THOSE moms?
Have you ever seen a barefoot 60-year-old woman and a pregnant chick in flip flops running as fast as they can? Not pretty. Luckily there were no cars coming and my mom got to Connor before he made it too far but the whole incident scared the poo out of me. How do I deal with this? It is not like other behavioral problems where I warn him not to do it, he does it anyway and then he gets spanked and put in time out. If I let him do this he could get run over by a car?! I mean, we are all about spanking but potential emergency room visit or worse...not happening!!
To make things even more difficult, I am at the fat point in my pregnancy where I can't pick him up anymore and by the time I get these tree trunks moving he is 20 feet ahead of me. Is it time for a kid leash? Am I going to be one of THOSE moms?
Friday, March 11, 2011
My ugly phase the sequel
My sister and I have always had this theory that every kid goes thru an ugly phase usually starting around age 7 lasting until 13 or so. You know what I am talking about...the giant front teeth either with a huge gap or braces. Glasses, pimples crazy hair that is somehow frizzy and greasy at the same time. We all go thru it and hopefully, with any luck, outgrow it by junior high. Well I am here to tell you ladies and gentleman that I am having a recurrence. And it is really icky.
At first I thought it was just the pregnancy but then I saw a picture from last year and noticed the same things. This time I don't even have the excuse that I am going thru puberty. I have the frizzy/greasy hair, the acne, the discolored teeth (ok, lay off the cokes and no red wine after the baby is born). But worse, my eyes are saggy and dark. Please tell me this is a phase and I will not have basset hound eyes for the rest of my life. I am too young for an eye lift and I refuse to look depressed while I wait to turn 40 so I won't feel too guilty about plastic surgery. How unfair is this?! My whole life I thought I was fat and ugly and now I would pay a million bucks to look like I did 10 years ago. Ain't life a bitch
At first I thought it was just the pregnancy but then I saw a picture from last year and noticed the same things. This time I don't even have the excuse that I am going thru puberty. I have the frizzy/greasy hair, the acne, the discolored teeth (ok, lay off the cokes and no red wine after the baby is born). But worse, my eyes are saggy and dark. Please tell me this is a phase and I will not have basset hound eyes for the rest of my life. I am too young for an eye lift and I refuse to look depressed while I wait to turn 40 so I won't feel too guilty about plastic surgery. How unfair is this?! My whole life I thought I was fat and ugly and now I would pay a million bucks to look like I did 10 years ago. Ain't life a bitch
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Do you have any kids vato? Yeah, didn't think so
Be forewarned: do not read this if you are sensitive to displays of anger, rude comments, bad language or derrogatory names. We just got back from Florida and I had an encounter with a less than kind TSA agent.
SO, let me preface this by saying that I do not travel well. I never have. Even before Connor was in the picture, I have always been a pretty big bitch when driving or flying long distances. My poor husband...
After a long weekend visiting Chris's brother and parents in Orlando we began our long trip back yesterday afternoon. Of course I was already a little on edge from being out of town, the check in lines were long, we had a ton of crap to haul (two suitcases, two backpacks, a bag of toys, a carseat, a stroller and a two year old) and the security line was long and hectic. I know, I know, this is to be expected in the Orlando airport with all the families leaving Disney World. I have never had a problem before bring babyfood, milk and juice for Connor. I just tell the person scanning bags that I am carrying these things for my child. Fabullous Orlando International Airport decided to ruin my streak.
The first smartass 20-year-old Hispanic TSA "agent" (I use this word loosely because I don't actually respect that these morons have any authority whatsoever) grabs my bag and tells me he has to search it and I need to follow him to the examination area. Fine jackass, but first I have to collect my purse, toy bag, stroller, baggie of less than 3 oz items, shoes, child's shoes and then I can proceed to your very official examination cubby. Chris was detained to prove that his laptop wasnt an explosive device so I was on my own. Apparently Jackass #1 was annoyed that he had to wait so long for me to step into his office.
He pulled everything out of my bag, groups my unapproved items together, points and them and says, "what is this?" Um, that is the baby food and milk that I already told you was in my backpack genius.
"Maam, you are not allowed to carry liquids over 3 oz into the airport."
"Yes, but I was under the impression that there was an expemtion for baby food and milk." "How old is that kid?"
"He is two."
"So is he an infant?"
"I just said he is two-years old."
"Ma'am it is a courtesy if I let you bring ANY of this thru. Which items do you need?"
"All of them. That is why I am bringing them into the airport."
"Where are you going?"
"Dallas"
"How long is that flight?:
"Two and a half hours."
"Miss, there is no way that kid can consume this much in a two hour flight." Keep in mind I had three squeeze packs of baby food, one bottle of juice and two milk boxes. About this time Chris walked up and asked what the problem was. Jackass #1 gave Chris his version of the recap and Jackass #2 walks up with another juice box that Chris had in his bag. Jackass #2 "They had this one too. There is no way that kid is going to drink all that on one flight"
Sidebar, who the hell are you two turds to say how much my son is or is not going to eat and drink on a flight. First off, it is dinner time. Second, food and drink is used as a distraction. Third, he has to have something to drink to keep his ears from popping. Fourth, I hate you and want to initiate my pregnant gag reflex and barf all over your greasy face.
Jackass #1:
"I can't let you take this."
"Do you have any children?"
"It is a courtesy for me to let you take ANYTHING!"
"I said, do you have any children?!" (my attitude is beyond rude at this point)
"No I don't have any children."
"I didn't think so. You have no idea how much crap it takes to entertain a child on a two and a half hour flight!"
Jackass #1 pulls out a juice box and two baby food packs and throws the rest in the trash. He scans or pretends to scan them with an explosive detecting stick. He put them back in my backpack and says, "Have a nice flight." I grabbed bag, stormed off and called him fucker as I walked away. Very mature, I know.
For some reason this whole episode really, really made me mad. My blood pressure was off the chart and as soon as I stepped on the tram I burst into tears. If he can't have a little sympathy for a pregnant chick with a two year old then he must not feel anything.
Just because you are bitter because you are not smart enough to be a real police officer or even a mall cop and had to settle for a job as a TSA "agent" does not give you the right to be such a bitch ass! And since all of your children live with their respective mothers or are in state custody don't pretend like you know how much food a child will eat at any given time or how they will act on a plane.
Well I feel better. Watch out Jackass #1 and #2...next time that baby food will become hair gel for you!
SO, let me preface this by saying that I do not travel well. I never have. Even before Connor was in the picture, I have always been a pretty big bitch when driving or flying long distances. My poor husband...
After a long weekend visiting Chris's brother and parents in Orlando we began our long trip back yesterday afternoon. Of course I was already a little on edge from being out of town, the check in lines were long, we had a ton of crap to haul (two suitcases, two backpacks, a bag of toys, a carseat, a stroller and a two year old) and the security line was long and hectic. I know, I know, this is to be expected in the Orlando airport with all the families leaving Disney World. I have never had a problem before bring babyfood, milk and juice for Connor. I just tell the person scanning bags that I am carrying these things for my child. Fabullous Orlando International Airport decided to ruin my streak.
The first smartass 20-year-old Hispanic TSA "agent" (I use this word loosely because I don't actually respect that these morons have any authority whatsoever) grabs my bag and tells me he has to search it and I need to follow him to the examination area. Fine jackass, but first I have to collect my purse, toy bag, stroller, baggie of less than 3 oz items, shoes, child's shoes and then I can proceed to your very official examination cubby. Chris was detained to prove that his laptop wasnt an explosive device so I was on my own. Apparently Jackass #1 was annoyed that he had to wait so long for me to step into his office.
He pulled everything out of my bag, groups my unapproved items together, points and them and says, "what is this?" Um, that is the baby food and milk that I already told you was in my backpack genius.
"Maam, you are not allowed to carry liquids over 3 oz into the airport."
"Yes, but I was under the impression that there was an expemtion for baby food and milk." "How old is that kid?"
"He is two."
"So is he an infant?"
"I just said he is two-years old."
"Ma'am it is a courtesy if I let you bring ANY of this thru. Which items do you need?"
"All of them. That is why I am bringing them into the airport."
"Where are you going?"
"Dallas"
"How long is that flight?:
"Two and a half hours."
"Miss, there is no way that kid can consume this much in a two hour flight." Keep in mind I had three squeeze packs of baby food, one bottle of juice and two milk boxes. About this time Chris walked up and asked what the problem was. Jackass #1 gave Chris his version of the recap and Jackass #2 walks up with another juice box that Chris had in his bag. Jackass #2 "They had this one too. There is no way that kid is going to drink all that on one flight"
Sidebar, who the hell are you two turds to say how much my son is or is not going to eat and drink on a flight. First off, it is dinner time. Second, food and drink is used as a distraction. Third, he has to have something to drink to keep his ears from popping. Fourth, I hate you and want to initiate my pregnant gag reflex and barf all over your greasy face.
Jackass #1:
"I can't let you take this."
"Do you have any children?"
"It is a courtesy for me to let you take ANYTHING!"
"I said, do you have any children?!" (my attitude is beyond rude at this point)
"No I don't have any children."
"I didn't think so. You have no idea how much crap it takes to entertain a child on a two and a half hour flight!"
Jackass #1 pulls out a juice box and two baby food packs and throws the rest in the trash. He scans or pretends to scan them with an explosive detecting stick. He put them back in my backpack and says, "Have a nice flight." I grabbed bag, stormed off and called him fucker as I walked away. Very mature, I know.
For some reason this whole episode really, really made me mad. My blood pressure was off the chart and as soon as I stepped on the tram I burst into tears. If he can't have a little sympathy for a pregnant chick with a two year old then he must not feel anything.
Just because you are bitter because you are not smart enough to be a real police officer or even a mall cop and had to settle for a job as a TSA "agent" does not give you the right to be such a bitch ass! And since all of your children live with their respective mothers or are in state custody don't pretend like you know how much food a child will eat at any given time or how they will act on a plane.
Well I feel better. Watch out Jackass #1 and #2...next time that baby food will become hair gel for you!
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