If You Give a Sarah a Massage Chair…
A few weeks ago, I was visiting a friend out of town. We had a sleepover at her parents’ house; partly because they were away on vacation, mostly because we’re both moms of young boys who love the rare luxury of sleeping and eating and toileting in peaceful solitude. Of all the rooms in her parents’ house, she sold me on the one with the massage chair. “Remember that time you were mildly violated by a pedicure massage chair?” she asked.
Another One Bites the Dust
“HOW DO THESE THINGS ACTUALLY HAPPEN TO YOU?! I’m being totally serious–you are a completely engaged, capable, attentive mom–and yet?!?” – my friend Aimee. Also, probably my husband. There’s a list of about 5 establishments our family should never enter again. Due to unforeseen bathroom emergencies, we should never again step foot inside the Kroger pharmacy, Panera Bread, King Wok II, Rosa’s Tortilla Factory, or Braum’s. It’d been a while since we’ve disgraced ourselves publicly with a banishable offense, so we were probably due.
Wildly Toddlerpropriate
“Teach them appropriate names for body parts,” they said. “They’ll be more empowered,” they said. You know what they didn’t say? That a two year old yelling about his penis in a crowded public area is incredibly awkward. Even more awkward is when you’re trying on clothes in a dressing room with running commentary in the background. 1st Favorite Son: “You look beautiful, my lady.” (?!?) 3rd Favorite Son: “MOMMY I SEE YOUR PENIS.” …yep. Have I mentioned that my two year old suffers from Megaphone Voice? (He comes by it honestly, but still.) Couple things. I do not have a penis. Nor did he see any body part remotely resembling one.…
Random Acts of…Something
Beckett loves going to the doctor. He also loves the act of taking medicine (which totally worked to my advantage recently when I gave him shots of 100% carrot juice every day for, like, 3 weeks straight). Any time one of his brothers is sick, he tries super hard to be sick, too. Maybe it’s the extra cuddling they get. Maybe it’s the medicine they take. Whatever it is, he wants it. So, naturally, he was oddly jealous this morning when Hutton took his antibiotics. (Antibiotics for his 4th double ear infection in 3 months, by the way.) (….if you listen closely you can hear my essential oiler friends giggle with glee at the prospect of wheeling their…
I Wouldn’t Use That Sink…
We’ve entered “year end close”, accountant-speak for “I won’t be home for dinner. Or breakfast. Or any dinners or breakfasts for the foreseeable future.” I mentally prepare myself for these times. I know that the witching hour will be extra hard with no reprieve on the horizon. I know the kids and I will be super tired of each other. I know any big changes in the kids’ lives will be INCREDIBLY DRAMATIC and, therefore, avoid them at all costs. But the best/worst/oddly refreshing thing about small children is that they rarely, if ever, abide by the elaborate mental life scripts you have been writing for them. We are experts at knowing what…
From My Mouth Hole to Your Ear Balls
Something I haven’t posted about recently is both my Google history and things we’ve said aloud to our children. So let’s remedy the latter because KIDS ARE CRAY. These are words that actually left our mouth holes recently: (Can you tell we have a house full of testosterone?) why is there a booger on the wall? whose booger is this? don’t put grapes between your toes. bug catchers are for bugs. please don’t put your penis in it. why is your underwear on the mantel? stop tooting in his face. we don’t toot in people’s faces. is that pancake in your ear? when is that from?? life lesson: don’t toot while you’re not wearing…
The Princess and the Ant
My belly button is swollen from ant bites. Apparently a lone ranger got lost in that sucker and bit me 5 times. Five. In my belly button. (Just a fun fact in case, you know, you were feeling like an awkward human being today or something. You aren’t.) Let me back up. On Saturday, Beckett and I went to a princess-themed birthday party for a set of twin girls. We met these friends at reading time at our local library when Beck was maybe 5 months old. (5 months old, because you’re much more active in fostering your child’s intellectual development when there’s only one of them. My second child doesn’t even know what a library is. Just…
The Multi-Sensory Urgent Care Experience
A few days ago, Hutton bent down, scooped his newborn brother up off the floor, and dropped him. From a standing position. All within a span of .23 seconds. The only thing that kept Davis from smashing his head on the ground was my catlike mom reflexes catching him by his arm mid-air. So that’s how it’s going. That’s how we’re adjusting. We’re literally just trying to keep the newborn alive in a home with two older brothers who have big, detrimental love to give. This fence helps in our endeavors. We’re only 2 1/2 weeks in to this thing, but I still maintain that going from 0 to 1 child is the…
Stroller Splat
During a recent catching-up-on-life conversation, a friend of mine said, “I know it’s been a while since we’ve seen each other, but from what I see on Facebook things are going well. You look like you’ve always got it together!” Hold up. Wait a minute. If that is the impression I have given at any moment in time, I am failing miserably as a human. (I also feel sure she never read about my, you know, severing my dog’s tail, leaving my laptop on the hood of my car, or befriending a cloud of gnats with the human poop on my calf…all exciting life events that took place within the past 12 months.) But,…
The Journey of Postpartum Baldness
Getting my annual haircut a few weeks ago, my hairdresser Shelby inquired about my rather unique hairline. She pointed to a patch of baby hairs and said, “What’s the deal with these?” I paused, unsure how to proceed. How much to tell her. I took a deep breath, and started in with my story. “Settle in, Shelbs. I’m going to take you on a journey that started 9 months ago, after the birth of my sweet baby. It’s a story full of difficulty. Of injustice. Of perseverance. It’s a story of….postpartum hair loss.” I didn’t realize I was a victim for quite some time. My newborn was projectile vomiting, my toddler was…
