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You have ever wondered why other

mothers have it all together.

And you can't find a clean pair of

underwear.

 

 
This Site Is For You IF...

Your first child listened to classical music

You read to them for hours

You kept them sugar and chemical free

And you can't remember why.

 
This Site Is For You IF...

You have read the book! Twice!

And your child STILL doesn't do it.

 
Show us a lil love...it's been a long day!
 
 
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The News
When You Wake Up... PDF Print E-mail
Written by CC   
Friday, 14 December 2012 07:16

wake upMy kids get up early in the morning, every morning.  Every since my Mack was a baby, he would never sleep past 4:30 AM, 5:30 now.  Well, need I mention, THAT BLOWS!  Seriously, I am a night owl, and 4:30 AM comes much too close to 12:30 AM, when I like to go to bed.  In fact, it’s so close that it doesn’t qualify as a good night’s sleep, let alone a nap.  So we got him a cat when he was 4.  He would wake up with the cat for entertainment, and we would sleep eyes half-open for an extra hour in the mornings just in case he tried anything creative.  And he usually did.  But the cat died 4 months later.  Damn that cat!  The vet couldn’t figure out why he’d died, but I knew.  He’d been waking up too early for 4 months.  Luckily, my constitution is much stronger.  I’ve lasted 9 years now without the appropriate amount of sleep.

 

So we got him a little brother.  Turns out he started waking his little brother up early each morning, which brings us circa right now on the time continuum.  Here I am, the parent of a child who doesn’t need a lot of sleep (theoretically) and a child who is woken too early by the child who doesn’t need that much sleep.  And I am tired of it. 

 
Find Your Happy Place, Damnit! PDF Print E-mail
Written by CC   
Friday, 30 November 2012 09:21

I picked up my kids from school yesterday.  I haven’t picked them up from school much for the last 7 weeks.  It’s been an adjustment for me, not being there for everything.  And I’ve written about it before, but the hardest part of the work to family mood change is the level of chaos.  I go from an orderly world where people speak respectfully for the most part to a world where there is arguing and loud voices.  And I feel my insides tighten slightly.  I say to myself, “Relax.  In a minute you’ll remember how to filter out all that noise and confusion.”  So I squeeze my face and try to relax.  And for the record, that’s not how you relax. 

 

So yesterday after squeezing for a moment and still feeling this slight panic rising in me---I asked the boys to take a moment and be completely quiet.  Shockingly, I didn’t read that in a parenting book, especially not one for boys.  But I told them to be completely silent for 2 minutes.  I wanted them to find something a happy place inside.  I explained the level of chaos in the car was too high, and we all needed to find some peace before we moved on.

 
The Kids Make Fun Of Me PDF Print E-mail
Written by CC   
Friday, 16 November 2012 07:57

In usual dramatic fashion, my 5 year old, Zoom, had a talk with me the other day.  He told me the kids at school were making fun of him—for not having candy in his lunch.  Dot, dot, dot. 

 

Okay, I think that’s the entire blog.  Because obviously I was torn with remorse and sadness at the idea of my poor child being ridiculed and tormented because his mother didn’t send candy to school with him.  And I could picture their cries and laughter as he pulled out yet another strange healthy lunch.

 

Nope, I couldn’t picture it.  Not for one stinking minute.  Besides, I don’t think he’s the type to get made fun of relentlessly, at least at this point.  But in fun and fairness, I asked him…

 

“They make fun of you?” 

 

“Yes, mom.”  The face associated with this comment was dreary and full of fake sadness that those awful fake children had instilled in his soul.  He put his head down on the table as if the burden was too much.

 
Bikes and Ghouls PDF Print E-mail
Written by CC   
Thursday, 01 November 2012 09:32

pumpkinI love Halloween.  And I was reminded when I popped onto facebook this morning and everyone was all like, “Look at my crazy pirate kid” or “whassup ghost man”.  And I’m all like, “no pictures of our night”.  I think I needed a Xanax, and I think my husband is sure I’m all crazy bat shit.  (Oh, spell check said that was two words.  I like ‘batshit’ much better.)  And it’s in the wrong order, just like my night. 

 

We might have spent 30 seconds actually walking as a family around our neighborhood.  Mostly, two houses into trick-or-treating, my kids are gone.  And it’s dark.  And they are on bikes.  I thought the bikes were cute until I realized they could walk a lot faster than me.  I mean, bike.  They could bike a lot faster than I could walk.  And by faster, I mean they can finish trick-or-treating before I get down the first street.  The neighborhood is packed with kids (although less than years past), and all the kids have costumes, and the adults have beverages.  It’s a precious suburban scene from an old fifties movie. 

 
Whose Fault Is It Anyway? PDF Print E-mail
Written by CC   
Tuesday, 23 October 2012 10:05

It’s hard to know who to blame for a hard week.  Family is such a complex network of faux pas, dirty knees, misunderstandings, laughter and hugs.  It all gets confused sometimes.  But I slide out of last week like a cheap hooker after the sailors hit town.  I was worn out, so worn out--I wondered if I would make it through another week of work.  And if I haven’t mentioned it, last week was the first week of my ‘busy period’ of 8 weeks a year. 

 

I tried to figure out why I was such a wimp.  I’ve worked many a 12 to 14 hour day in my life.  I’m not 40 until next year so I should still feel spry as a chicken, right?  And I don’t.  I feel like a pile of bile, tired and stinky and very unwelcome in most social situations. 

 

I started to walk down the list of things that had happened that week…

 
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