Bad mommy

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There are not many vices I have- I rarely drink, I don't smoke, or do drugs. I don't go bar hopping, I don't cheat on my husband and I'm not an over eater, (well, I did just put my fat pants on- too many New Year’s treats tonight). I do drink too much caffeine and I tend to swear a bit. Ok, a lot. It seems to have escalated since having kids, particularly when an attempt to flush the Dora cellphone down the toilet was made. No, it will not flush and yes, the basement will flood, (which includes the need to remove the toilet, as well as the basement ceiling, lighting, carpet……) but I try not to do it in front of them. On occasion, I slip up. Just when I think we will hit the new year without a single swear word being repeated by my kids, my 2 yr. old drops the F bomb. Not once. Not twice. But 3 freaking times. He followed it up by saying, "Baaaaaaaaaaad Mommy!" In my defense, I did walk into the house to see the dog chewing up a brand new pair of shoes. I am hopeful it will be shoved way back in his memory and won't come out until he is in therapy 20 years from now. It immediately brought me back to the most awful thing one of my kids has ever said.  Almost 4 years later, I am still horrified to even put it in writing. As a disclaimer, what you are about to read NEVER came out of my mouth, nor out of my husband's. My mom and I were out to lunch with the girls. Ava, who had just turned 2, looked adorable. Her hair was in 2 long braids, with ribbons attached and she was wearing a beautiful cream and red Hanna Andersson dress. I still remember her rosy cheeks, rosebud lips and sparkling brown eyes that day. The girls were coloring quietly, while my mom and I were talking. Just as I was taking a bite of salad, I hear this little voice ask, nonchalantly, "Do you F!@% my daddy?" As a piece of lettuce impaled itself into my lung and thinking I heard her wrong, I asked, "What did you say?!!!???" More loudly, she once again says, "DO YOU F%!& MY DADDY?" Of course, the waiter chose that exact moment to check in and you could feel the stillness around us. Horrified silence, and then snickering, EVERYWHERE. My mom and I stared at each other, trying not to giggle, or burst into tears, as diet pop sprayed out of my nose. Check please!!! Lesson learned the hard way- when your 2 year old spends the evening with teenagers, make certain they are not watching anything inappropriate while she is awake! I guess I am a bit grateful Shea's language skills are not anywhere near what Ava's were, although from the sound of it, he is catching up. Guess I know what my New Year’s resolution needs to be............

Thankfully, no F bombs have ever come out of this sweet girl since.........

Boys will be boys?

When I first became a mother, as expected, I was completely unprepared. The love I felt for her, the complete lack of sleep I got and how uneasy it would be to just pick up and go. Then she started having seizures. I was naive thinking they would stop with one medication or that she would hit all of her milestones like typical kids. But we got through it, have made adjustments and just keep on going. So by the time baby number 3 came around, I was pretty confident in my parenting skills. But then he turned 2. No one prepared me for a 2 year old boy. Defying everything I say? Check. Eating dog vomit? Check. Handing me dog poop? Check. Sucking on the toilet plunger? Check and barf. Who does that??? I feel like I need to follow him around the house with a bottle of Purell and a swab for his mouth. He looks at me and licks the cart handle at Target, laughing. He runs his sisters down and bites them in the back. He french kisses our bulldog puppy, who seems to enjoy it as much as he does. Potty training has been a wash but he does think it's "Awesome!" when he pees on the floor. He scatters cereal, coffee and plant dirt all over the house, despite our attempts at putting them out of his reach. Whenever he hears the bath water running, it's a full bore dive into the tub, clothes and all. He loves resetting my washing machine when it's on the rinse cycle and gets up at 5:30 am, every day, wanting his "bar" and "coffee", no matter what time he goes to bed. But then he wraps his arms around my neck and says, "Wuv you mommy" and I forget the 237 naughty things he did that day. And then I find my toothbrush... in the toilet.