Monthly Archives: November 2012

Holiday Whining-30 days til Christmas

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To the tune of the 12 Days of Christmas

On the 30th day til’ Christmas, Santa gave me:

30 more days too many

29 reasons to research toddler discipline

28 million tears shed (not mine)

27 nose blows

26 ways to attempt to corral a tantrum throwing two-year old

25 reasons to want to beat my head against the wall

24 plus times I’ve said No!

23 emails read

22 emails deleted

21 toddler threats made ( I no like that Mama)

20 hits thrown by angry toddler leaving the library

19 hairs probably turning gray

18 more years until everyone has graduated

17 minutes of quiet, does this mean they’re finally sleeping

16 times I’ve reminded him to say please

15 minutes of corralling at the chiropractor

14 mismatched socks

13 crumbs spilled

12 million reasons to quit this song

11 toys strewn about

10 minutes of sanity wanted

9 articles of clothing they’ve already worn/dirtied 

8 more hours in this day

7 more months until warm weather

6 hours of sleep tops

5 more hours until bedtime

4 annoying animals to care for 

3 time’s I’ve reminded him it’s nap time

2 whiny, crying, naughty children AND 

1 uselesssssssss elf on ..theeeee… shelf!

BAHHHH HUMBUG When will it be July?

 

 

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Some People’s Kids or a Rant to My Former Self

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Prior to having children it was easy to scoff at the misbehaved hooligans you saw in restaurants and shopping centers. What were their parents thinking bringing them here, at dinner time, as if children need to be fed. They are ruining everyone else’s meal. And that child climbing on the clothing rack in the supermarket, where is the control? Does no one control these children? Egads, what is wrong with these parents. I tell you some people’s kids. Internal thoughts of your’s truly only a few years ago and admittedly even now but only in extreme cases. Fast forward about three years.  Today, I felt like that parent, the one who all the people are silently cursing in the restaurant for bringing havoc on their lunch. My lunch partner who is also a parent wasn’t even fazed sighting that he’s two and really you can’t expect much more. Yet his constant climbing from the booster to my lap, trying to get down and run around, yelling and banging silverware, spilling every drink in a 2 foot radius was enough to make me not want to venture to lunch again in the near future unless it involves fast, and I mean freaking speedy food, with little to no possible time between ordering and arrival. So why did I risk it, because the food previously mentioned that is “fast” is also often times the worst, so every now and then I like to test the limits and see if we can go somewhere with a little better food and a little slower delivery. Apparently, we cannot. So as I lugged my children away leaving an absolute disaster at the table because to attempt to clean it would have only offered more time for their destruction, I mentally apologized to each of the other patrons and hoped they would be a little more judicious in their complaints against my children than I have been about others in the past. Because really, some people’s kids. Only F%C$ now that’s my kid.

 

Unattended children sign at Squeeze Marfa

Unattended children sign at Squeeze Marfa (Photo credit: TheSeafarer)

I’m NOT a 7-Eleven!!

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Latch on, Latch off. You see lots of posts about the gymnastics of nursing a toddler, hell I think I’ve even written one, back when I was writing regularly. We’re not going to discuss this past month hiatus, we’ll chalk it up to Flu-mageddon 2012 and lots of traveling. Anyway, what’s worst than the gymnastics of nursing a toddler, the inconvenience nursing is to their play schedule and 20 second attention span. No that doesn’t mean they want to wean, I can hear some of your brains right now, I’m psychic like that, thinking just wean her. I assure you this kid doesn’t want to wean yet, because when I’m not operating like a convenience store full of milky boob goodness, she simply dive bombs my chest and starts screaming. Because that’s what non-verbal toddlers who don’t know sign language do. They dive bomb your chest. ANYWHERE. In the grocery store, Target, the bank, at the park, Grandma’s house. Anywhere that is super inconvenient for nursing, let alone when you have to nurse a toddler who couldn’t be inconspicuous if her life depended on it. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for nursing anywhere, but that doesn’t mean I want to put on a production, I don’t need to be the star of Pippa’s lets eat and play and eat and kick and upside down and around the neck and latch on again show. It can wait for home, where there’s a chair or a bed or somewhere comfortable where I can close my eyes and not have to view the show, just take up my role as the nursing 7-eleven, until the same shopper finally makes up her mind and buys the damn milk, so to speak. Waiting ’til home also won’t start the annoying when are you going to wean her questions, the kid’s barely on the charts for her weight as it is, she does eat solid food, we will continue to feed her solid food but I’m not taking away her favorite food source until she wants to. PERIOD. Even if it means I have to live with the role of a 7-eleven for awhile longer. Okay, that’s enough ranting, now I’m going to dazzle you with a few pictures of adorableness and swear to you I will find the energy to write a blog post again before another month somehow passes, perhaps I will even find it in me to make it entertaining, no promises.

 

 

Don’t you just love the snot coming out of his nose, classic!

Also I wish I could bottle his curls and sell them, I would totally buy them for myself if I could!!!