It's The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown! (AKA The Miracle Baby)

I was talking to my mother the other day, and she mentioned she had been reading my posts (and strangely, wasn't upset.) She said that she remembered when all these things I write about happened, and that one of her co-workers was impressed with the lie about boys that didn't eat vegetables turning into girls, and thought it was super-creative. "You remember that?" I asked her, and she also remembered something else - it worked. "Wow, you're right, I totally forgot that it worked! They ate all kinds of vegetables for months!" She also mentioned that in the post about our telephone conversations, I had left one out, and asked me to tell it because it was so funny. And so I am, the funny parts, and the not-so-funny parts.

An Offer You Can't Refuse

My pre-schooler basically told me to, "Go fuck yourself, Mommy." Not with that exact wording, but that's what she meant. It's like the scene from The Godfather when the one guy finds a horse head in his baby's crib: I got home from work today, and found a butter knife in the bathroom. My bathroom. You know, where I get ready for work.

The Cherry On Top Of A Whipped-Shit Sundae Day

I've worked night shift for a big portion of each of my kids' young lives, and although getting sleep is always challenging, if I had to work (and I do) at least by working nights, I could still spend a lot of time with my kids during their waking hours. When my boys were little, I got off of work at 6 am, which meant that my (now ex-) husband was getting ready to leave for work, since he had to be there by 7 am.

Life Lessons Learned

Yesterday morning, my little mini-me ALMOST had me convinced she listens to me. I thought that we had come to an understanding, that she had finally started to get our rules, and more importantly, follow them. I thought I had made a breakthrough as a mom, and she had made a breakthrough as a daughter. Looking back, I might have over thought it.

Lies Mommies Tell

Do you ever wonder how many times over the length of your childrens' lives you will lie to them? I started thinking about this after the last post, and I wondered how bad of a mom was I that I lied to my kids. But then I finished thinking: I know I've lied to my kids several times (Yes, Mommy does have eyes in the back of her head, that's how I knew you were grabbing that cookie, honey!) but mostly about totally inconsequential things or, conversely, things that may have great impact in their lives if they make the wrong decision.

It's All Fun And Games

My four-year old daughter is once again on her way to see her cousin. I'm glad that her grandparents take her when they go to visit, since it 1) gives me an opportunity to have special time with the youngest, 2) gets Diana out of my hair, 3) brings her closer to the cousin that lives farthest away, and 4) gets Diana out of my hair. Did I mention that once already? Oh, well, it's such a fabulous thought it bears repeating. So, the first day she's gone, their dad cleans the shit out of their room, to find a half-eaten sandwich! No one knows how or when she made the sandwich, but I personally suspect she has figured out the gate to the kitchen. I'm still not sure what was in the sandwich, though, since she's gone and I can't ask, because she's out of town! If I didn't know better, I'd think she planned it that way. I can trace her activities using the items in her room, which tells me that by the time she's a teenager, I might as well open a private investigative agency!

The Birds, The Bees, and The Ugly

When my boys were young, I agonized about how to explain the 'facts of life,' and my ex-husband told me at the time that he would "take care of it." I was relieved, in a cowardly and non-me-like way. When the time came, however, my ex-husband was nowhere near close enough to save me from this gaping, giant, black hole that swallowed my integrity in silence.

A Beautiful Mind

Tonight I went through my normal routine for work - I showered, washed my hair (and everything else,) wrapped up in a towel, and put my contacts in. I was running late, so I quickly plugged my curling iron in and the hairdryer (all kept in a special place in the bathroom where prying toddler fingers hopefully won't mess with them) and pulled out my make-up to put it on while the curling iron heated up.

And that's when I found out what my darling mini-me had done:

I Wish I Could...

My four-year-old has started the most annoying fucking habit ever in the history of 4-year-olds - instead of actually asking for something (e.g. "Mommy, may I have a cookie please?") or asking-as-a-statement (e.g. "Mother Dearest, I would like to have a cookie.") I get a wistful, wishy-washy, frustrated, bourgeoisie-esque wishful statement: "I wish I had a cookie..." while sighing sadly and looking far off into distant lands, as though someday her hero would come and bring her a fucking cookie!

Fall Blues

I hate August. And September. October just better not piss on my boots, or I'll lump it in with August and September, and July - well fuck you July. Not just for the heat, and the end of summer (y'know, the normal reasons people hate August, September, October. And July) but because it's allergy season. I've always had horrible allergic reactions to various things, and August... well, August just isn't my month. Matter of fact, my mom told me once that for three years in a row when I was a child, she refilled my allergy medicine on August 24th. Great! Glad I could be so predictable, Mom.