So Much for the Breakfast-for-Dinner Plan

“Mommy, there’s a Cheerio stuck in my nose.”

“What?”

“There’s a Cheerio stuck in my nose!”

Looking, seeing nothing unexpected, “No there’s not.”

“I fink there is.”

Thinking this is related to the phantom splinter I removed from her foot this morning, or . . . → Read More: So Much for the Breakfast-for-Dinner Plan

What I Mean When I Tell The Husband “Mom’s Night Out is a Necessity”

Mom’s Night Out: some months, quite possibly the only thing that keeps me on the side of the camera that says hiking across two parking lots at 10:00 pm, to McDonald’s, in my pink bathrobe, is really not acceptable.

Also: some months, most definitely the thing that gets . . . → Read More: What I Mean When I Tell The Husband “Mom’s Night Out is a Necessity”

Motherhood Is . . .

. . . answering a plea for potty assistance by scurrying out of the shower, dripping water across the floor, helping her climb up and down, complimenting her big-girlness, and then resuming the shower.

And then, three hours later, realizing that you forgot to shave the second leg.

And: not caring.

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Recurring Motherhood Theme: I Have No Idea What Is Next

Okay, so I’m only halfway in, but it sure does seem like the age of Two gets a bum rap with all the “terrible” adjectivizing attached to it. Because Two, for all its constant busyness and chattering, is significantly more fun than the years that have preceded it. Not that Infancy and . . . → Read More: Recurring Motherhood Theme: I Have No Idea What Is Next

Afternoon Forecast: Melancholy with a Chance of BOOHOOHOO

This morning, I attempted to pick up where I’d left off on yesterday’s Plan To Regain Order and Control. That was probably my first mistake.

My second: Iced Caramel Macchiato No. 2, which I thought would help me hold my own against The Child Who Rises With The Sun.  She . . . → Read More: Afternoon Forecast: Melancholy with a Chance of BOOHOOHOO

The Apoocalypse

See, I was planning to come over here and tell you about something.  But I got all smartsy and tossed out a status update, thusly:

And do you know what happened within ten minutes of that?

Poonami.

Poonado.

Pooricane.

. . . → Read More: The Apoocalypse

The Ides Got Her, Then Me, Then All Those DRINKING, GAMBLING, FORNICATING Germs Under the Carpet

Oh, but the smell of blehhhh I encountered as I reached the hallway outside The Child’s room Monday morning.  If you have a child, you probably know it.  If you don’t (have a child/know it yet): lucky, lucky you.

Twenty-three months and four days is a pretty good run without encountering a nasty stomach . . . → Read More: The Ides Got Her, Then Me, Then All Those DRINKING, GAMBLING, FORNICATING Germs Under the Carpet

In a World of It

It’s beautiful, make-you-wanna-play-outside weather.  Or, if you just moved into a house that has no landscaping, make-you-wanna-work-in-the-yard weather.  Which is why I’ve been Other-Such-light for the last week: the make-you-wanna-dig-in-the-dirt-gorgeousness.  When it isn’t raining.

On Saturday I tilled up a section of yard between the sidewalk and the front porch, planning for a large . . . → Read More: In a World of It