What I love about summer is just how imaginative my kids have to be to amuse themselves. We have the usual T.V., Wii, internet, DS brain rotting amusement going on, don't get me wrong. Ain't no shame in my mommy game. Every now and then I get all Mean Mommy on them and turn it all off. And then I am forced to find scenes like this:
* baby towels, the hooded kind - being worn like hair. Complete with rubber bands and ribbons. It's quite funny to see my towel haired kids, wearing dress up clothes, high heels.... and baby towel hair.
*Barbies that always seem to be at a nudist convention. Always. Then again I would be too if I had upper dimensions that looked like that.
*Airport. Bags constantly packed, full of the important things like; socks, 3 hairbrushes, a US weekly magazine, softball medal and my wallet. They make "boarding passes" out of crudely ripped pieces of papers. And the TSA agent gets to scribble all over them.... and her legs.
*Pet shop school. All pet shops lined up. Names on white boards, a lot of bad kids in those classes, tons of check minuses. Juan, Jorge, Carlos (guess where we live) and Panda girl. Sometimes pet shops get abducted, and riots will ensue.
*hanging underwear from the ceiling. This is my favorite. Remove the glow in the dark stars, and hang underwear from the tacky gunk. Then they laugh and giggle their brains out, with commentary like "Mommy, it was a gy-hun-du-mus unda-wheres on um.... on the ceal-i-ling." She's 3, creative vocab... but three. With a raspy voice like she smokes about 11 million packs a day. Which she doesn't...I check.
No cute noodle making projects to occupy my kids here. I'm about to toss a ladle and 4 pillowcases- and a bra their way and see what happens next.
I love it.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Saturday, July 25, 2009
The way weddings were meant to be
I'm sure most everyone has seen this already. But it rocks. Please, whoever invites me to a wedding, do this. So I can rock out next to grandma in the pew.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Who's who in the Moms Supreme Court
I have friends with babies, all who love them dearly, all who absolutely adore the ever loving piss out of their offspring. So tell me why I get phone calls full of self doubt, sadness and just struggling with how to raise their babies? One reason; Other moms. Since when did we become a society of black rode wearing, sittin high on a bench, looking down on women, bunch of mothers? Seriously, lay off already. Unless your name is preceded with a "Your Honor", you need to step down and take a seat.
I'm tired of this new wave of mothering where if you give your child formula, you might as well give them rat poison. If you give them a pacifier, you are eliminating their form of communication. If you give them food before 6 months you are setting them up for a life full of allergies. That if you don't strap them to your body, your are making them feel abandoned. If you don't let them sleep in your bed, they are emotionally unstable. If you give them jar food, you don't care enough. If you had an epidural, then you are a quitter. And a c-section, you took the easy way out. If your baby cries for more than half a second, you are the absolute devil.
I think it's about time, that it is made clear, there is so much more to being a mom than what you do. In what way you do it. Being a mom entails bawling your eyes out when you can't breastfeed. And bawling your eyes out when you can, and it hurts. Bad. So you don't want too.
It means bawling your eyes out as you fold away the 0-3 month sizes of clothing, and then 3-6 month, knowing your baby will never be that small again.
It means being a cheerleader for rolling over, crawling, walking, running. For going pee pee on the potty, doing back flips for poopy on the potty. It means cheering the loudest at the soccer game, if your kids is the one running in the wrong direction.
It means keeping your cool when your favorite picture gets ruined. Or dress. Or couch. Or computer. And it's okay when you need to leave the room to calm down, because really, the computer? That's not an easy fix. Or being calm when you have to listen to whine #7264. And yelling louder than you want to when whine #7265 comes out anyways.
It means celebrating birthdays, report cards, good behavior, words. Or sometimes the ability to do what other children do a thousand times a day.
It's about being afraid they won't succeed. About if they are learning the right way. The right things. Will they be kind?Compassionate? Will they learn to accept people for who they are, and how they do things?
It means loving your kid enough to say no. Say it a lot. Say I love you. Say it a lot. By saying both, they know that you do. And loving them more, just.to.love.them.
I think moms need to realize that it's about so much more than what you feed them, when you feed them, who cries, and who doesn't. Where they sleep, where they play, who plays with them. Who works, who stays at home. I cannot point out in a crowd who was breastfeed, who co-slept, who had a pacifier, who cried......let it go.
Don't sweat the small stuff, the cloth vs. disposable, boob vs. formula, crib vs. bed, it's the bigger stuff that matters.
I'm tired of this new wave of mothering where if you give your child formula, you might as well give them rat poison. If you give them a pacifier, you are eliminating their form of communication. If you give them food before 6 months you are setting them up for a life full of allergies. That if you don't strap them to your body, your are making them feel abandoned. If you don't let them sleep in your bed, they are emotionally unstable. If you give them jar food, you don't care enough. If you had an epidural, then you are a quitter. And a c-section, you took the easy way out. If your baby cries for more than half a second, you are the absolute devil.
I think it's about time, that it is made clear, there is so much more to being a mom than what you do. In what way you do it. Being a mom entails bawling your eyes out when you can't breastfeed. And bawling your eyes out when you can, and it hurts. Bad. So you don't want too.
It means bawling your eyes out as you fold away the 0-3 month sizes of clothing, and then 3-6 month, knowing your baby will never be that small again.
It means being a cheerleader for rolling over, crawling, walking, running. For going pee pee on the potty, doing back flips for poopy on the potty. It means cheering the loudest at the soccer game, if your kids is the one running in the wrong direction.
It means keeping your cool when your favorite picture gets ruined. Or dress. Or couch. Or computer. And it's okay when you need to leave the room to calm down, because really, the computer? That's not an easy fix. Or being calm when you have to listen to whine #7264. And yelling louder than you want to when whine #7265 comes out anyways.
It means celebrating birthdays, report cards, good behavior, words. Or sometimes the ability to do what other children do a thousand times a day.
It's about being afraid they won't succeed. About if they are learning the right way. The right things. Will they be kind?Compassionate? Will they learn to accept people for who they are, and how they do things?
It means loving your kid enough to say no. Say it a lot. Say I love you. Say it a lot. By saying both, they know that you do. And loving them more, just.to.love.them.
I think moms need to realize that it's about so much more than what you feed them, when you feed them, who cries, and who doesn't. Where they sleep, where they play, who plays with them. Who works, who stays at home. I cannot point out in a crowd who was breastfeed, who co-slept, who had a pacifier, who cried......let it go.
Don't sweat the small stuff, the cloth vs. disposable, boob vs. formula, crib vs. bed, it's the bigger stuff that matters.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Because it's July.....
Sorry I haven't blogged. You see...... I bought a house. Isn't she purty? And big? The yard alone is gigantic and I get lost for days, and the actual house... oh my sweet southern heavens is it big... like 15,000 square feet. I get lost walking from my bed to breakfast.... and the trees.... and the flowers.....
Okay so I didn't buy a house.
But I went to a house.
A beautiful plantation house. The stuff my 1875 dreams are made of. Complete with a porch that goes on forever. History oozes from all over it and I eat that history shiznetti up with a giant spoon. We just got back from a trip to Louisiana. It sure is pretty.And green... you know I am a sucker for green. Not to mention the houses. I spent my days wiping drool from my house lovin lips looking at all the character in the houses. I could convince the husband to move... if the heat hadn't betrayed us. And the humidity. He would think I lost my mind if I said to move there.....but seriously the houses would be worth it. We are now back home enjoying southern California weather, so yeah it would be a tough sell. So for now, I have spent days going over pics from our Louisiana adventures, and then the Baloney had a birthday so that meant more pics. 4th of July pics, family from NC visiting pics, Middle's birthday pics.... and of all the pics... did I mention that my camera broke, after the trip, before birthdays so I am using someone else's camera. I am surrounded in pics but will get them done.
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