Am I Going Mad or Am I Just a Mommy?

Don't be without a babysitter when the Bloglax kicks in!

Oh why don't they understand, these lovable little dictators of mine? One leaps around me vying for my attention, while the other waddles along behind, competing for his. 

But I must blog!

There is much silliness to share and, (gasp!) some seriousness as well.

Yet they come first. 

In a few hours, my little darlings will be in the loving care of a friend.

You see, I have a long-awaited hair appointment.  Ah Bliss!

After that, I have a decision to make:  Do I blog or instead buy food for my family to eat?

The demands on a mommy blogger are endless!

Makeover Monday

Yes, it's that time again.  Welcome to another edition of Makeover Monday, and a happy Memorial Day to all my American friends, family, and blogging buddies!

I hope everyone had a successful week.

Here's my report on last week's goals:

1.   Keep walking.  I will go out 4 times! - (almost) ACCOMPLISHED

I've gone walking 3 times, and hope to go out today, so that'll be 4.  Yes, I know it's Monday, but it's technically a long weekend where I am, so my week hasn't officially begun yet.

2.  Stay patient and keep sense of humor during nine and a half hour drive home. -  NOT ACCOMPLISHED 

Our drive home was probably the worst we've ever had.  Have you read and/or seen The Perfect Storm?  Well, our journey was a lot like that, minus the fishing part.  That is, if you substitute a minivan for the fishing boat, SuperDad and me for the fishermen, and non-napping teething seven-month old and an equally non-napping three-year-old with an ear infection for The Storm itself.  At least we all got home alive in our version.

As for keeping my sense of humor, there was a lot of laughter.  It was more of the brittle, nervous I-must-laugh-instead-of-breaking-down-in-hysterics variation. 

3.  Set up Ebay auctions for stuff I have piled in my dining room. (Is anyone interested in a Medela Pump In Style, a lavender Bumbo Seat, or a Snuggle Nest?)- ACCOMPLISHED

I listed all items yesterday, only I'm trying Craig's List first.  (It would be great to save on fees and the hassle of shipping.)

 

Goals for this Week:

1.  Submit my teaching recertification documentation to the state Department of Education: 

Did I mention that my teaching qualifications are being audited?  Yes, the DOE has seen fit to audit me after ten years of teaching and three years of being a stay-at-home-mom.  Make sense to you?  Me either, but that's Government for you.  It sucks, but better the DOE than the IRS!

2.  Fill 3 big garbage bags of stuff from our attic and take them to Goodwill.

Three bags will barely scratch the surface of the disorganized pit that is our attic, but it's a start.

3.  Finally get out on a date with SuperDad to celebrate our anniversary.

My saintly, baby-sitting mother-in-law was sick this weekend, so no date for us.  Feel better, Grandma Marsha!

                 *            *            *            *            *

 

Want to play?  Here's what to do:

  1. Choose a goal. (It can be a new one each week or something more long-term.)   

2. Write a Makeover Monday post to share your goal for the week ahead. State whether or not you accomplished your goal from the previous week. It's okay to brag! If you are working towards a long-term goal, report on your progress.

3. Link your Makeover Monday post here using Mister Linky below.  Please leave me a comment so I feel loved.

    4. Spread the good karma by visiting other Makeover Monday participants to encourage and congratulate them on their own makeovers.

   5. Feel the love coming right back at you!

Don't let Monday be a downer! Start your week off right by celebrating your accomplishments and those of fellow bloggers.

Here's Mr. Linky.  You know what to do.

How Strong Are Your Nerves?

Are you a parent?  

 

If so, do you consider yourself a paragon of parental fortitude or do you assume the fetal position whenever your child utters the slightest whimper?

 

 

 

Take my simple quiz and find out. I tried it myself this week, and it’s a lot of fun!

 

 

 

Directions: Attempt each step in order.  The further you get, the stronger your nerves. 

 

 

 

1. Schedule a pelvic exam for first thing on a Monday morning. If you are a man, make      it a digital rectal exam, or better yet, a cystoscopy. 

   

2. It should be pouring rain. That makes the drive so much more interesting.

   

3. Drink at least 4 cups of coffee to give yourself a nice edge.

   

4. Bring  along your sick and teething infant for company. Wake her up from her nap,  if possible. 

   

5. Don’t forget the sibling(s)! After all, they could always use more material for future therapy sessions.

   

6. Pack some snacks and toys to keep the kids occupied and hunger at bay. A portable DVD player is an asset. 

   

7. Make sure all children in diapers/training pants have consumed heaps of fruit the  day before. That way, they can poop for the third time just as you are  ready to walk out the door.

   

8. Give  all mobile children time to splash around in the puddles on the driveway.      For maximum effect, they must be good and wet. 

   

9. Listen to this    repeatedly on the way to the doctor's office while sodden offspring complain incessantly.

   

10. Sit and wait patiently for 45 minutes while your infant screams off and on. Attempt to read that 4 month old People magazine with Britney on the cover.  Ignore dirty looks from childless onlookers who are gazing in disbelief at your motley, soaked brood (who continue to complain about their wet clothes and the dismal selection of  waiting-room toys). 

   

11. Visit restroom to change infant's poopy diaper 30 seconds before you are called by the nurse. The water in the toilet bowl should make a nice distraction for your other little helpers.

   

12. Once in the exam room, undress from the waist down just before your preschooler  decides to open the door and make a break for it. Don’t worry, the paper drape provided will give you the illusion of modesty. 

   

13. Do not despair if your portable DVD player does not work, or if all of your carefully selected coloring books and toys are rejected one by one. The exam room contains many sights and      sounds waiting to delight your child(ren). Pregnancy wheels make fine Frisbees! Who needs toys when whacking obstetrical stirrups against an exam table makes such a pleasingly rhythmic “ka-thunk” “ka-thunk”? Never underestimate the draw of K-Y jelly for your little artiste!

   

14. If  your doctor’s timing is right, s(he) should glove up and begin your exam just as your baby resumes his/her crying. 

   

15. During your exam, make sure you provide detailed answers to pointed questions about your sex life in front of your children. That way they have something to share with their class during Circle Time.

   

16. Once all is complete, you should be partially dressed when preschooler once again makes an escape attempt. 

   

17. Make your follow-up appointment while  your child dumps the entire contents of the office treat jar while looking for something that doesn’t exist.  A tantrum should ensue.

   

18. Make a quick escape, lugging a crying infant in a car seat on one arm while dragging aforementioned screaming preschooler with the other. 

   

The End.

 

 

 

Okay, I don’t mean to brag, but not only did I complete all eighteen steps, but we even stopped to do the grocery shopping on the way home.*  This amazes me!   Just 4 months ago, I would have been reduced to a quivering mass of hormones by step seven.   Seriously, don’t I deserve an award? Where's my I Have Momma Nerves of Steel blog button, dammit!

   

So how did you do? Are you a Smug Momma with nerves of steel like me, or are you en route to the pharmacy to pick up your Xanax?

 

 

 

 *No children were tranquilized during the course of these real-life events.

   

 

I Know I'm Not Alone

I have a confession to make: I screen my calls.

This sometimes causes tension in our happy home.  While I regard the telephone as an invention created solely for my convenience,  SuperDad is a habitual telephone-answerer and an all-around nice guy. 

Why do I screen my calls?

1.  I just don't enjoy talking on the phone. Don't know why, but that's the way I am and you're not going to change me.  Not a good enough reason for you? Well, please allow me to speak for beleaguered parents everywhere.

2.  I have small children.  Ever tried having a phone conversation with an egocentric , negative-attention-seeking preschooler or a teething baby in the background?  Have you been there, done that?  Then have some sympathy, for goodness sakes!  No children?  Just call our home and you’ll get an idea of what I'm talking about. Imagine if you will,  the deep, pleasant voice of SuperDad:

“Hello! You have reached 123-4567.  We’re not here to answer the phone right now, so pl….”    “ NOOOOOOOO!” Crash! Bang! Boom! “WAAAAHHHHH!” ....Beep!   

Yes, crisis number # 5709856 has just occurred.

3. I have small children.  That means that if I’m not dealing with crisis # 5709856 or the aftermath of said crisis, then I'm probably changing a diaper or giving someone a bath.

4. I have small children.  If I am not dealing with a crisis, its aftermath, a poopy diaper or a bath, then that probably means I am doing laundry.

5. I have small children.  If I am not dealing with a crisis, its fallout, a diaper, a bath or laundry, then I'm trying to make dinner.

6.  I have small children. If I am not dealing with a crisis, its fallout, a diaper, a bath, laundry,  or dinner preparation, then I'm trying to get my small children to stay seated and eat said dinner, all while defending my own food from their grabby little hands. Why, oh why is the same food on Mommy's plate always so much more appealing?

7. I have small children. If I am not dealing with a crisis, its fallout, a diaper, a bath, laundry, dinner preparation, supervising dinnertime or defending my food like a wild dog, then I'm reading the same bedtime story over and over again to my son.

8.  I have small children.  If I am not dealing with a crisis, its fallout, a diaper, a bath, laundry,  preparing/eating/guarding my dinner or retelling The Adventures of Thomas the Tank Engine ad nauseam, then maybe, just maybe, I am taking a well-deserved break.

O Silence, sweet Silence! Let me drink you in for this brief moment in time!

Or maybe I’m staring at the wall like a bumbling idiot by this point. Or perhaps I've passed out from too much wine exhaustion.

Does that about cover it, beleaguered parents?

Please do us a favor and leave a message!

 

9,000 and Counting

What is the significance of this title, you may ask?

Ooh, I feel like I'm playing Jeopardy!

Answer= According to the lovable geeks at the Mad Sci Network, this number represents the average number of neurons (those are brain cells to you and me) a healthy person loses daily from age 30. Upon first glance, this may seem like a very high number. However, lest anyone get worked up in a tizzy, you should know that this loss represents a mere 5 % of the total number of neurons you have in your noggin. Phew!! Don't forget, though, that we're talking about a healthy person. Alcohol increases brain cell death, and use of some drugs kills off neurons at much higher rates. All those martinis and gin & tonics in graduate school don't seem like such a good idea now, do they?

Makes you wonder about the dreaded Mommy Brain, doesn't it? Now, I've heard the research and haven't yet read the book, but from where I'm sitting, it doesn't feel like I'm smarter than before I had children! I'm still waiting for that perk to kick in. Maybe it will happen after my hair stops falling out in clumps?

Since I'm playing scientist, here's my Hypothesis, based on my own personal experience, of course: Being a Stay-at-Home mom increases brain cell death at a rate of 9,000¹⁰*.

We are a sleep-deprived, forgetful, and clumsy lot! If one is looking for the milk in the house of a stay-at-home mom, you'll most likely find it in the cupboard. The cereal, why it's in the fridge, of course! How many times have you found yourself somewhere, only to forget why you went there in the first place? The simplest of tasks seem to take forever when interrupted by the countless whims of mini dictators. For example, I am still writing baby-gift thank you notes and am starting to wonder if I will ever finish. My typical routine goes like this:

1. Lay out thank you cards, gift list and envelopes on dining room table.
2. Fill sippy cup for RJ.
3. Start writing. Darn pen doesn't work!
4. RJ calling. Turn Thomas on the TV in the living room.
5. Go in kitchen. Why am I in the kitchen? Ah yes, a pen!
6. Return to dining room. Write 2 thank you notes.
7. Being paged again. We hate Thomas today. Switch channel to Mickey Mouse Clubhouse.
8. Address and stamp 1 envelope.
9. TV is too loud. Go and turn it down.
10. Oops, can't find address for envelope # 2.
11. Take envelope to basement to look up address on Internet....No pen down here.
12. Hear through monitor that Baby C has awakened from nap.
13. Run up two flights of stairs. Change diaper. Feed baby. Put her in swing.
14. Return to address envelope in basement. Oh, that's right, no pen here.
15. Go upstairs to get pen.
16. Baby crying. Binkify her.
17. Down to basement again, address envelope in 5 seconds flat.
18. Hear loud thud and screams from overhead.
19. Run upstairs. RJ has dropped die-cast Thomas train on his toe. Kiss it better.
20. Go to put stamp on second envelope. Oops, forgot it in basement.
21. Run down. Retrieve envelope. Put on stamp. Phone rings.
22. Answer phone. No, not interested, thanks. Harvard should be donating to me.
23. Where's 1st stamped thank-you card? Find RJ playing with it. Confiscate it.
24. Put 2 thank-you cards in mailbox for pickup.

MISSION ACCOMPLISHED! (Estimated time to complete: 7 min.; Actual time:40 min.) As if this weren't enough, once I read (and finished) things like this. Sometimes I actually understood them, too!

Now I read these:

I don't mean to knock my current reading choices. I love good deals as much as I love the idea of doing things the easy way. I'm all about easy! My point is this: If I continue along this path, will there be a time when Real Simple will not be simple enough for my brain to handle?

I think I'd better go and do a Sudoku.

Scratch that. The baby's crying.....

You put Thomas where?

Our son is almost 3. No, he isn't yet potty-trained, but boy are we trying! For about the past month, he has been bare-bottomed at home, and as you can imagine, we've been pooped on and peed on, as has the dining room floor, the bathroom wall and the living room rug (which, ironically, is the only rug our cat has yet to pee on). If it's not the cat, it's the kid!

Turns out, going without Pull-Ups is not only hazardous to us and our furnishings, but it poses a danger for the Boy, too. Back story: Yesterday he came home from preschool, delighted for two reasons. First, he was about to watch Thomas the Tank Engine on TV, which I allow him to do after school. Second, his teacher had given him a Thomas sticker for good behavior. Fast forward 25 minutes...he's happily watching Thomas in the buff while I'm changing the baby's diaper.

"Mommy, look!"

"What is it love?"

"Look at Thomas!"

"I know, that's your favorite episode, isn't it?"

"Look at Thomas!"

"I see the show, sweetie. Mommy's busy changing your sister's stinky diaper."

"No Mommy. Look at me."

It turns out my child was proud as punch that he'd figured out his Thomas sticker would stick to the tip of his penis! Clever boy! I guess the time had come for parenting lesson #558, "Thou shalt not put stickers or any other adhesive substance on thy private parts!" Here I was, all prepared for the don't insert foreign object up nose talk, that I forgot I was dealing with a boy!

Of course, this kind of thing only happens when Daddy is at work. So I did the only thing I could think of when dear Son became alarmed that he couldn't remove Thomas. Quick, like a band-aid... After much jumping about, punctuated by "Ow, ow, ow, it hurts! My pee pee's broken, Mommy!" I'm happy to report that everything worked out in the end.

We may just see grandchildren after all.