This week I discovered that my child is starting to have quite the imagination. He is just beginning to make up stories with his Thomas trains and Little People sets. They are quite elaborate stories of car crashes, going up really tall mountains, and someone always saying, "Oh no!" I really enjoy listening to him from another room and getting to be part of his story without him knowing that I am. Isn't it fun to spy on our kids?
I have also found his baby monitor gives me the inside scoop on what he thinks about before he goes to bed. Usually he is reading his story to himself or singing a song. The latest song on his Billboard charts is, "Jingle Bells." He starts out strong belting, "Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way..." Then the rest of his lyrics start to get a little fuzzy. He then sings, "Oh what fun it is najlweylkwjerlkjwerlkfjal;kjf;alkfjalkfja, hey!" And yes, it really does sound like that to us. I have realized that unless he gets his act together soon that he will not be trying out for American Idol next season. You can imagine our disappointment in him.
Now I am TOTALLY loving that my kid has a wild imagination, that is up until recently. As I am even typing this, I realize that we will never be able to sell our home again after I disclose this piece of information on here, but I have a confession... Ethan has discovered a ghost.
Now I realize that at some stage children become afraid of the boogie man and the dark, but this is creepier then that. My child is not afraid of the ghost and is rather matter of fact about it all. He actually likes the ghost and has made friends with him.
For instance, I am home with Ethan by himself and he will come into the kitchen and say, "Look mommy, the ghost." Not scared at all- just trying to inform his mother who is just a teeny bit freaked out about the supernatural and not really wanting to know if there is a ghost in our home or not. At first I would say things like, "A ghost? Well, where is he?" Ethan would then say, "In there (*pointing to our front room*). Under the table."
I have now made the discovery that I would rather NOT know where the ghost is residing although Ethan continues to give me a play by play on which room he is moving to. "Oh no! Ghost is upstairs," he will say. "Ghost went downstairs now. Bye ghost." He is reporting all of this in his sweet tiny little two year-old voice. A voice, in my opinion, that should not even utter the word "ghost" as far as his momma is concerned.
Now tell me- wouldn't you be freaked out??
Can't we go back to the elaborate Little People stories or the Thomas the Tank Engine stories? What ever happened to the sweet innocent stories of Thomas being pushed by the nasty Troublesome Trucks? What happened to Thomas being laughed at by Percy for being so small? Wait now that I think about it, I don't particularly care for those story lines either...
The unfortunate thing about our ghost though is that once you have crossed over to the Dark Side that there is no turning back. The supernatural is going to be a part of our everyday life or, at the least, until Ethan comes up with a new story.
Oh, and the ghost said to tell you all hello and boogity, boogity, boo!
A Child's Prayer
Mommy: Now I lay me down to sleep. I pray the Lord my soul to keep. The angels watch me through the night and guide me into morning light. God bless.....(*waiting*)....mommy.
Ethan: Mommy right here.
Mommy: Yes, I am right here.
Mommy: God bless... (*waiting*) Ethan
Ethan: There I are!
Mommy: Yes, Ethan is here too. God bless.....(*waiting*) daddy.
Ethan: Oh no!
Ethan: Oh no! Where daddy go?
Mommy: Daddy is downstairs working and we are praying, remember? God bless....(*waiting*) Grandma & Grandpa.
Ethan: Grandpa, where are you? Grandpa?
Mommy: Grandpa isn't here. Remember, we are praying for Grandpa? God bless...(*waiting and then speed praying*) AuntieCindyUncleEricNanaGrandadGrannyPaAuntieLindsayUncleJohn & Fergiethecat
Ethan: Oh no! Kitty downstairs and then she jumpded up high.
Mommy: Yes, kitty is downstairs. And God bless everyone else. In Jesus name, Amen.
This past week I have been searching through other mommy blogs and have been trying to get a feel for what others blog about. Guess what I discovered? I be dumb.
These mommy writers are using words that I have never even heard of. The titles of their blogs are amazing, but I have to use a dictionary just to find out what I am reading. I read the entries and then I read all of the comments from the readers and realize that everyone else gets it, but me. They are all writing things like, "BRILLIANT! I have never laughed so hard in my life! Your ability to dominate and rule the English language make your blog a stand out!" Another entry reads, "Unbelievable the use of imagery and the parallels that correlate to your life and Martha Stewart's. It truly was astounding!" Yet, I can't even read the first sentence without reaching for my dictionary.
In short, it makes me feel stupid.
I will make a little confession though and then you will realize why I can't probably figure all of these words out. I dropped out of college. Yup, I just decided that I was smarter then all these yahoos that were sitting around learning about whatever the heck you learn about in college and I up and left. You see, I don't need to sit in some chair and be taught things when I realized I could be out livin' life, you know what I'm sayin'? I was all learnin' life skills in the hood while these people were learning prepositions. Tell me, who is going to be more successful? A college graduate or me? I mean, come on!
In efforts to prove how I can be smart in my blog, I am now going to copy/paste my blog entry that I entered into Microsoft Word using the brilliant feature called the thesaurus. Here is my new and (extremely) smart blog entry:
This past week I have been probing through other mommy blogs and have been demanding to get a sense for what others blog about. Guess what I revealed? I be dim.
These mommy dramatists are using vocabulary that I have, by no means, even heard of. The titles of their blogs are remarkable, but I have to use a dictionary just to find out what I am reading. I read the entries and then I read all of the commentary from the readers and realize that everyone else acquires it, but me. They are all writing things like, "BRILLIANT! I have never expressed amusement so hard in my life! Your ability to dominate and rule the English language make your blog notable!" Another entry reads, "Unbelievable the use of imagery and the parallels that correlate to your livelihood and Martha Stewart's. It truly was astounding!" Yet, I can't even read the first sentence without attaining my dictionary.
In brief, it makes me feel dim-witted.
I will make a little declaration of guilt though and then you will become conscious of why I can't, in all probability, form all of these words out. I dropped out of college. Of course, I just decided that I was brighter then all these yahoos that were sitting around gaining wisdom about whatsoever the heck you become skilled at in the academy and I departed. You see, I don't need to sit in some chair and be trained things when I realized I could be out living existence, you know what I'm articulating? I was all learning life skills in the hood while these citizens were learning prepositions. Tell me, whom is going to be more victorious? A college graduate or me? I mean, come on!
In labors to provide evidence on how I can be clever in my blog, I am now going to copy/paste my blog entry that I record into Microsoft Word using the luminous feature called the thesaurus. Here is my innovative and (exceedingly) intelligent blog admission...
See, even the stupid can sound smart with the aid of Microsoft Word. If you are ever feeling dim-witted or unedumakated, I highly recommend utlizing this feature on their program.
If you do not care about sounding intelligent, at the very least, the feature will really up your score in Scrabble. Just ask my husband when the last time was that he won a game. Do it nicely though because he truly is not dim-witted and he can kick your butt if you start getting smarty-smarty with him.
Dora or Mommy? Pick!
See how I am already behind on this whole blog thing? I had vowed to do it daily and I have already fallen off the blog-wagon. Please forgive me (the two people in the world that read this, which include myself and my husband) for already getting behind. Due to technical difficulites, I have been unable to post, but I am hoping that we are back on track again.Well, Friday was a good day for MomAdvice. We had our first local interview and it wasn't featuring me talking about something, it was just about my site. How cool is that? Thanks to our local news station and Jennie Runevitch for featuring us on their Money-Saving Tips segment. It was an exciting day for us. The best part about the entire thing though was that our little Ethan was going to be in the news segment with me and I couldn't wait to see him more than myself.
On Monday, the day of our show airing, I was terribly sick to my stomach worrying about what our segment would look like on their show. I have discovered that I am not very good in interviews, that I do not like how I look on film, and that I usually sound like I am not the brightest crayon in the box. Obviously, with all of that in mind, I was quite nervous.
At five o'clock we headed down to our family room to watch the news and we tried to stress the importance of this show to Ethan. In excited voices we said, "Mommy is going to be on the television, isn't that fun, Ethan? Aren't you so excited to see mommy?"
This question was met with a "No mommy! Dora!"
I admit I have no singing backpack or a naked little friend that only wears knee-high boots that accompanies me places (BTW- I think if I did my job title might be pimp, gigilo, or something equally cool..). I also realize that I sure as heck can't read a map as good as Dora, but COME ON!
Yes, I am aware that Dora is fluent in two languages and I only know the lowly English language, but I have something working for me that Dora doesn't....You see, I don't have a sneaky thief following me around trying to snatch my purse. Comprendo, Dora? I also wouldn't take peaceful measures and chant a mantra (Swiper, no swiping. Swiper, no swiping. Swiper, no swiping...) if someone was trying to take something that belonged to me. I would beat the crap out of that person and then I would drag him over to the prison to let THE MAN deal with him. And if you don't know THE MAN, then you don't know crap! THE MAN is serious and there would be no more purse stealin' going on anymore.
SO, in short, I basically poo-pooed the idea of watching Dora and we got to watch mommy and Ethan instead. All I can say is that those people know their stuff. Strategic editing and amazing camera angles, coupled with good lighting, almost made me sound intelligent. It was really exciting to Tivo myself although I wasn't half as interesting as this season's American Idol (go Mario!! WOO-HOO!!)
Although I came in second place to Dora, Ethan did enjoy seeing himself on television and it was a historic moment for our family and for our site.
Thanks to all of the locals who have been so sweet to visit our site!
Oh, and Swiper, better watch your back!
Today an article was released on this year's Toy Fair. This year many of the companies that are participating are going high-tech for the kiddos. Dolls will now know your children's name, blood type, and Social Security Number. Not only will your dolls be programmable, giving your child the love and attention that you can't give them, but they will also cost at least $39.99 and require four hundred AA batteries. I remember how high-tech we felt when purchases were made for the beloved Chicken Dance Elmo and Hokey Pokey Elmo. Unfortunately, Elmo is no longer dancing, but instead you now can program your children's private information into it via your computer. Now Elmo will be chanting things like, "ETHAN, I love your special BLANKET. ETHAN, are you playing your favorite game of RUNNING AWAY FROM YOUR DADDY WHEN HE TRIES TO GIVE YOU A BATH? ETHAN, I bet that is fun!" All of this will be in that awful high-pitched Elmo voice. I can see already that there will be lines at the toy stores and parents selling these demonic dolls on Ebay for a gazillion dollars. Even more mind-blowing is that Crayola has jumped on the high-tech bandwagon. Crayola representatives laugh about how kids used to put a crayon to paper. "How lame was that?" they scoff. Now we need to hook up our coloring books to the television so kids can make their images on the big screen instead of the crayon drawings that we once hung on our refrigerators.Can I just say, what the heck happened to Lincoln Logs? Here is another thing I miss...I know that it really is overrated, but um...what about that thing we call the imagination?
The Perfect Mommy
Newsweek is running an issue of their magazine (Feb 21) with the cover story being, "The Myth of the Perfect Mother." It is always fun to see how mothers are portrayed through the media and these articles offer both encouraging & discouraging advice (in my own humble opinion). I am going to take a few quotes from the articles and break them down into how they translate into my own role as a mother. Here we go...
The Good Enough Mother by Anna Quindlen
"There's the problem with turning motherhood into martyrdom. There's no way to do it and have a good time."
Alright, I see your point about the whole martyr thing, but that has been working for me for years. You see, the only way I can get my husband to help me with my son is if I play the martyr. And if I cry about overscheduling myself and the pressures of picking a good preschool, making sure my child knows all he needs to know in preparation for his IQ test, and doing all of this while baking my perfectly-perfect banana bread in my perfectly-perfect apron (we have to eat, right?) then I receive sympathy and make my mommy friends feel like they aren't doing enough for their own children. Ultimately, they will want to be me. Martyrhood causes guilt all around me and I think it is working wonders for all of my relationships and guess what, Anna?? I am having a good time. Maybe those around me aren't, but I'm the mom and I like being a martyr. It makes me feel like the world couldn't function without me.
The most incandescent memories of my childhood are of making my mother laugh. My kids did the same for me.
Wow, you made your mother laugh? Holy cow! I made my mom cry... A LOT! You are so lucky!
A good time is what they remember long after toddler programs and art projects are over. The rest is just scheduling.
JUST SCHEDULING! Wow, Anna, now you are stepping on my toes. I happen to take pride in the fact that I have an organized activity arranged for my child every single day. To be honest, I think that Ethan would refer to this as his "good time" and having free time is really for lazy children. Someday when your children have no skills or hobbies (I think you would have discovered this by age two), my child will be composing concertos, developing the "new,new,newest math" for the elementary children, and making his political debut talking on the effects of gangsta rap on children. And what would your children have been doing at this age? Drawing with chalk on the driveway, laughing, and having unorganized and unorthodox fun? Hmmm... I think I have made my point.
Mommy Madness by Judith Warner
Some of the mothers appeared to have lost nearly all sense of themselves as adult women. They dressed in kids' clothes—overall shorts and go-anywhere sandals.
Go-anywhere sandals? Um, you lost me? Are those the comfy-type shoes that go well with overall shorts? OH...now I know what you are talking about. Now it's been a couple of weeks since I taped an episode of "What Not to Wear," but I swear that those catty little divas on that show said, "Go-anywhere shoes were the next black." Might want to check with your stylist though on that one.
They were so depleted by the affection and care they lavished upon their small children that they had no energy left, not just for sex, but for feeling like a sexual being. "That part of my life is completely dead," a working mother of two told me. "I don't even miss it. It feels like it belongs to another life. Like I was another person."
Stop lavishing affection and care on your children, working mother of two. What the heck? Save that stuff for your hubby. When your kid starts hugging you, push them away. Tell them there is only enough love in the house for one person and that they aren't it. Problem solved.
There was something new, too: the tendency many women had to feel threatened by other women and to judge them harshly—nowhere more evident than on Urbanbaby and other, similarly "supportive" web sites. Can I take my 17-month-old to the Winnie the Pooh movie?, one mom queried recently. "WAY tooooo young," came one response.
Something new? Women making other women feel threatened and judging them harshly? I think that goes way back into the Dark Ages. I have not only gotten this in motherhood, but I have gotten it in high school, college, and work. Women are mean to each other. That is our job!
By the way, who asks if it is okay to take their 17-month-old to Winnie the Pooh? I would have suggested that the mother & her husband have a date night and catch the latest Winnie the Pooh flick and then judge for themselves. There is no hotter date night then snuggling up with your sweetie while Tigger is doing his, "Bouncy,bouncy" dance. Definitely worth the money spent on the sitter and the movie.
Meet the Slacker Mom by Peg Tyre
You won’t catch Muffy Mead-Ferro at a toddler fitness class. When it comes to enriching after-school activities, she’s not ferrying her kids to traveling soccer or French lessons either. She lets them amuse themselves in a mud puddle in the backyard instead.
Being your kid must suck. Seriously! Amusing yourself in a mud puddle in the backyard versus French lessons. I think she is just trying to save money.
Dinner wasn’t fancy,” she says. “My mother just didn’t have the time, the focus or the inclination to put on that kind of show.”
THAT kind of show...I think that was a direct insult to my perfectly-perfect banana bread and my perfectly-perfect apron. You see, lady, I AM that kind of show. And I get a standing ovation every single night while your kids eat Spaghetti-o's or Lucky Charms.
She wants her kids to tolerate frustration and setbacks, to be self-reliant and conscious of the needs of others, and above all to grow up to think for themselves.
And I just want my kid to be a robot and live with me until he is forty. I see that we have different goals for our kids.
Seriously, all joking aside, these articles do bring up good and valuable points about what we are doing to our kids and what we are doing to ourselves. When there are books coming out (and probably selling a lot of copies) called, "Perfect Madness: Motherhood in the Age of Anxiety," it starts to make me nervous. Should I be anxious? Am I "perfectly mad?"
We all want the best for our kids, but if my sanity comes into question, then I would like to bow out of the competition. You all can go nuts without me!
Is Like, The Internet Public?
Yesterday I came home from my book club and my husband greeted me with, "Guess what? I have made a link to your blog from your website!"
Panic begins to set in and I start to feel my heart begin to beat faster. I start to sweat and then I read, read, and reread again my posts (as limited as they may seem). I start to wonder what my family is going to think about all of this and how I can write trash about my life, family, or friends if they are now reading all of this information. Then I began to want to add disclaimers to my posts in case someone should read it and be offended by it. For example...
My husband was being a real jerk last night and he didn't wash the dishes. I went downstairs in the morning to make my morning cup of joe and instead I have nasty coffee sitting in my coffee pot from yesterday and I am so grossed out by it that I can't make my frickin' cup of coffee. And then I have a caffeine hangover for the entire day and I curse him repeatedly, as my head throbs, for not doing the dishes. I curse him again as I am trying to make dinner and not a single dish that I need is clean and how DARE HE not do the dishes. Does he think I am the maid? Some indentured servant? A stupid WIFE!
** Short Disclaimer**
Um, honey if you are reading this, I am just really trying to be funny. The whole part about cursing you is TOTALLY not true. I woke up in the morning and was delighted to see dishes everywhere and sang your praises all day for breaking me of that nasty coffee addiction. I also sang your praises again as I got so much time to reflect on you and the life that we share as I unloaded and then reloaded the dishwasher and then got the blessed opportunity to serve you dinner. Thank you for all that you do AND don't do in my life because it makes me a better wife, mother, and friend.
See what I mean?? Now all the fun is taken out of my blog- this sucks!
Now I realize that my blog was public information the second I put it up, but I never shared the blog with anyone so, as far as I was concerned, the information was private. Once we created a link to it from our site though I have the potential four thousand (give or take) people a month reading all about my private life. It was kind of nice to keep my site and my private life separate, but let's face it! I am an open book now.
I will be coming up to friends and thinking up a funny story to share with them that happened the day before and I will see them looking at the scenery behind me. They will then inform me that my story was "Soooo like, yesterday because we have already read that blog entry" (no, I have no friends who actually talk like this) and I will feel empty and rather depressed. I will have to kick my game up big time and now I will not be sleeping. Instead I will be coming up with witty remarks for both my personal life AND my blog.
And then suddenly I realize- who the heck cares?
This is me! This is the kind of wife, mother, and friend I am. Admittedly, lousy at times, but real and true to myself. If you find yourself offended by my blog- don't read it. It will offend me more if you do!!
So, um...seriously, are people really going to be reading this?
Yo, holla back by clicking the comment link.
The Oprah Interview
Oprah: Amy, take us back to January of 2005. That seems to have been a turning point in your life- what happened?
Amy: Um, can I take a sip of water? Okay (deep sigh) where do I begin?
Oprah: Let's start with your pregnancy...
Amy: Well, we found out that we were expecting our second child right before Christmas. I can't tell you how happy we were because we had been trying for a baby for over a year. One hour after I told my husband that we were finally pregnant, I began to spot. I had never had this with my first pregnancy and many of my friends, at the time, had went through miscarriages so I was nervous and upset thinking that this might happen to me as well.
We ran a series of blood work and the day before NYE we were told that things looked good and to go out and celebrate the New Year. Despite receiving this news, I still did not feel comfortable sharing about the pregnancy.
My husband and I went out for dinner to celebrate and then headed to a movie. I stopped at the bathroom and saw more spotting. I just knew that something was wrong.
The next day (on New Year's Day) I went to the lab for more blood work. This blood work came back abnormal. My progesterone was low.
Oprah: What did this indicate to the doctor?
Amy: That the pregnancy was not a healthy one, but again, the doctor said that things could go either way.
Oprah: So then what happened?
Amy: I was pretty much a wreck at this point. I just couldn't stop crying uncontrollably. I couldn't believe that after a year of trying that this would happen to our family and I didn't think anything could get any worse for me.
Oprah: But it did.
Amy: Yes, my life continued to take a turn for the worse.
Because I was so upset, I did not feel like I could take care of myself or my son. I called my sister and she offered for me to come over there to relax and be taken care of. I think she was trying to get my mind off things.
When I arrived she told me that she had a few errands she needed to run and invited me to come along. We drove over to the local grocery store and picked up a few groceries and headed out to the car. I had my son in one of those carts with the car part in the front and I had to bend down to pick him up to get him out of it. All of a sudden, I started to feel enormous pressure on my back. I know it could have only been for a minute or so, but my instinct kicked in to push back against whatever was pushing me. I heard my sister screaming that someone was hitting me with their car. I was basically pinned between the two cars with my body blocking the cart that was holding my son in it.
Oprah: What did the lady do?
Amy: Well, she didn't know any English so she continued keeping the car in reverse until she figured it out. Once she figured it out she pulled the car up to free me and then got out of the car and started loading our groceries into the car.
Oprah: Why was she doing that?
Amy: She was reassuring me that I was okay and helping me load the groceries and then was trying to leave. Luckily my sister kept the lady there until the police arrived.
Oprah: I am sure she was arrested.
Amy: No, actually she left without even a ticket (gasp from the audience). She had no license, no insurance, provided a false address, and had no phone number and the cops had to let her go because of some Indiana law having to do with private property. I was then taken over to the emergency room, but they could do nothing for me because of the pregnancy. We had explained that it sounded like I was going to miscarry anyway, but they didn't want to risk it. The doctor said he had seen too many pregnancies succeed even when doctors said they were doomed to fail.
Oprah: But yours did not succeed did it?
Amy: No, I miscarried the next evening. The whole time I thought that I was miscarrying. I thought a miscarriage was spotting and something like a period because that was how it was explained to me. It was much more than that though- it was one of the longest nights of my life.
At the end of the week I went in for x-rays and they confirmed that I would need treatment, but wanted to wait until I was completely through the miscarriage before beginning treatment. Upon the miscarriage ending, my treatment prescribed was four to six weeks of physical therapy twice a week for a back injury that I had sustained.
Oprah: Wow, that is some story. I am sure that things started to look up for you?
Amy: Well, I was a crying and sobbing mess. Everything made me cry. That whole week, I just cried like a baby every single day. People say the stupidest things when you miscarry. Things like that you will get pregnant again, that your baby was probably retarded, that it was better this way, that this was God's plan. After I got over the hurt, then I started getting really mean. Like, I hated everyone mean.
I would see a pregnant person and I would immediately hate her only because she was pregnant. Or someone who was pregnant would complain about her back hurting and I would want to scream inside of my head. I would go into the ob/gyn office for follow-ups and have to sit beside four complaining pregnant women- it was pure torture. That is when I came up with the idea for the new ob/gyn office and why I am a millionaire today.
Oprah: And what was that idea?
Amy: Well, that we need to set up an ob/gyn office like you would set up a pediatrician's office. A sick entrance and a well-kid entrance. Instead of that though, you would have an infertile/miscarriage entrance and then an entrance for happy/pregnant people.
I also thought it would be wonderful to have different exam rooms set up too. For the happy/pregnant people, they could have pictures of beautiful babies and serene colors in their rooms. Pictures of mothers with child and all the beautiful fluff that we fill our nursery with.
Then for the infertile/miscarriage people, they could have a room that had no pictures of babies and just happy single amazing women who are living their life to the fullest minus kids. There are pictures of women on vacations, hitting the clubs/bars, and just generally living the good life.
Oprah: What a brilliant idea! Now THAT is what I like to call an, "Ah,ha moment!"
So did your life start looking up after that?
Amy: Well, the week after my idea...
Oprah: Your BRILLIANT idea...
Amy: (modestly) My brilliant idea...my son came down with the croup and an upper respiratory virus and had to spend two nights in the hospital- it was horrible. Our insurance...well, it's not the best plan we have ever had...let's just say that despite my ah-ha moment, I had racked up thousands of dollars in good old-fashioned medical bills. It was a low point in our finances, and I just felt beaten down. Maybe this wasn't God's plan or maybe it was and He was teaching me to lean on Him. I know my story wasn't as bad as Job's in the Bible, but COME ON! I get hit as a pedestrian by a car, I have a miscarriage, I sustain a nasty back injury, my poor little boy is hospitalized for illness, and we get to pay the hospital a gazillion dollars for treatment- this is definitely at a low point. The only good that came of all of this is that I have focused less on myself because I wanted to care for my Ethan so it got me out of the mean stage...well, for awhile anyway.
Oprah: That is an incredible story. What do you think the future holds for you?
Amy: Well, I am going to concentrate more on my website and then I have been thinking of starting this blog, but I have had some hesitations with that. It's...well...it's almost like someone is reading your journal. It creeps me out, but it also is quite therapuetic. I thought I would give it a shot.
Oprah: Well, thank you for sharing your story with us. I think we all can learn a lesson from you and good luck with your site and that blog. I understand that blogs are the latest thing.
Amy: And thank YOU, Oprah. I feel like doing my Hallelujah dance just meeting you.
Oprah: And next we will be talking to a mother who is addicted to crack, plastic surgery, and public nudity. Her story is amazing and you won't want to miss what her kids have to say about their mom....
True Confessions of Motherhood
Day one of blogging and I get to begin with a confession- I almost beat my kid today. Yes, call the Child Protective Services because I was inches away from giving my child a royal spanking in Chickfila.
I am not a big fast food junkie, but once a in awhile I enjoy a little fast food. I received a nice free kid's meal coupon from Michael's when I went to get some flowers for my table, and thought since I had the craving for fast food that this would be a good time to use it.
I walk in, with Ethan in tow, and he starts saying, "Slide, slide!" Noticing the nice play area behind us, I tell him that we will get to play on the equipment AFTER we eat. I don't think the sentence had even flowed from my mouth before he was running over to the play area. My SIL tackles him and brings him screaming to me as I try to place my order for a kid's meal for the very ungrateful child who is now kicking and screaming before me. Trying to keep my cool, I reach for Ethan and he begins to scream, kick, and make himself limp. If you have a toddler I am sure you know exactly the type of limpness that I am referring to. The "I'mgoingtomakemyselfasheavyaspossible" limp. I walk him over to our table and try to put him in the high chair with no success. He is kicking and screaming, "No chair! No chair" There are snot and tears everywhere and he is screaming at the highest tone that he can. I drag him screaming out only to be stopped by a well-meaning stranger who has let me know that he has lost a shoe in the process of kicking me. I take him out to the car and put him in his car seat and shut the door. I do not yell (go me!) or spank him (go me!) but I do contemplate doing both. Instead, I stand outside of the car and breathe deeply and chant, "I will not spank, I will not spank, I will not spank." My SIL brings the food out to the car and we leave- there are no rewards for bad behavior in this car and the rewards include the coveted french fries as well as playing in the play area. My SIL kindly reports to me that one elderly lady said that she wished she would have turned her hearing aid down since we were so loud. Thanks lady! And your kids were perfect? Tell me, what was that like? UGH!
Introductions & Other Formalities
Welcome to my very first blog! I am excited and nervous about starting this venture. Excited because I enjoy reading other mommy blogs, but nervous because of my track record with journals and baby books. I hope that you can enjoy reading some of my adventures in motherhood and more about me personally.
I am a SAHM of a two year old little guy named Ethan. My husband (Ryan) and I have been married for a little over 4.5 years and are currently residing in good ol' Indiana. I run a little website called MomAdvice.com and am currently serving as co-leader of our local Mothers & More chapter. I love to cook, read, eat, and enjoy long walks in the park...wait! Is this a personal ad or a blog??