The Stall: a Collection of Horror Stories from Public Bathrooms
If you wonder what being a parent is like, gather up as many hyper, destructive humans as you can and bring them in one tiny bathroom stall as you pee. Have them ask questions as loudly as possible such as “ARE YOU GOING POOP?” “WHAT’S THAT SMELL?” “DID SHE JUST TOOT?” while you quietly whisper “don’t touch that” “that’s yucky” “please don’t put your face on the ground”. Maybe also have one confetti gun and an airhorn for added chaos. Repeat that scene every time you go into public and you’ll have a good idea what your future holds. It is complete and utter insanity. And also a little bit hilarious if…
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,…
Now Charging Admission
Yesterday, I contributed greatly to society by being a “model” at a clinic for pregnant women in crisis. They were having a nurse training afternoon with a sonographer, and I volunteered my services as the perfect pregnant specimen a pregnant lady not in crisis. The nurses trained on using the sonogram machine, identifying strange baby parts, measuring fetal things, etc. And I just want to help in any way I can, you know? Just kidding. I mostly wanted to see my baby and find out the gender and if that helps others in the process, PERFECT. So while checking out the baby goods wasn’t at the forefront of their minds, it was definitely on mine.…
Witching Hour Chronicles
According to Wikipedia, the most famous non source on the internet, With a modern literal meaning of “midnight,” the term witching hour refers to the time of day and night (12:00 a.m. or 12:00 p.m. is commonly speculated) when creatures such as witches, demons, and ghosts are thought to appear and to be at their most powerful and black magic to be most effective. I don’t know about all that supernatural business, but I do know about the witching hour in our own house. It happens every weekday, without fail. It’s the hour between 5pm and 6pm, Monday-Friday. It’s the hour when you’re kind of done being a parent, your kids are kind of…
The Concert that Changed Our Lives
Taylor had been telling me for the better part of a year about his friend from high school who has this amaaaaazing band (his words). I kind of shrugged it off because, honestly, who doesn’t have a friend from high school in a band? So several months later when I told him about this group I found on Spotify named Penny and Sparrow that he had to listen to, he just glared at me. Yes, same band. We’ve been obsessed ever since. I saw they were playing a show by us back in December, so I immediately bought tickets as a fun surprise for my guy. What started as a normal date…
Oversized Baby Discrimination
It’s no secret – I am the proud mama of a chunky baby boy. And by chunky I mean giant. He’s just a giant ball of love. It’s part of his charm. The dude is irresistable. (I would insert comment here about gobbling him up, but the fact that 3 separate people sent me Buzzfeed’s “There’s Actually a Scientific Reason You Sometimes Want to Eat Your Baby” article last week tells me I should steer away from future cannibalistic statements.) So, as the proud mama of a chunky baby boy, a sad reality has come to my attention. Something that needs addressing ASAP. The world, as we know it, is not designed for oversized babies. …
On breaking up with perfection. (And choosing to be a dinosaur instead.)
When my husband comes home from work, I brace myself for the question that will inevitably come out of his mouth. “What did you guys do today?” This question is my nemesis. Not the way my husband asks – and certainly not how he intends it – but the way I interpret it. We live in a Pinterest time of DIY sensory bins and handprint turkey crafts and weekly cleaning charts and crockpot meals. We live in a Facebook time where people only post the 1 out of 47 pictures taken where everyone is smiling and where the activities they planned actually went according to plan. We live in an Instagram time where filters hide…
Sexy Eyebrows & Pumpkin Patch Portraits
What in the heck is up with Halloween these days? The boys and I went on a walk around the neighborhood the other day and came up to a house with a bloody corpse hanging from a noose on their tree. Like….really? Really really? “Mommy, what’s that?” “That, buddy, is poor judgment.” And costumes these days?? That’s a joke, right? In my extensive Google search for “Halloween costumes for chubby babies” (true story), I came across the following real-life, available-for-purchase costumes: Sexy Olaf Sexy Marshmallow Man Sexy Garbage Truck Driver Are we that desperate to show off our ta-tas, American women? PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER, PEOPLE. You’re ruining costumes for everyone. This has…
for real tho…life as of late
It’s been a while since I’ve just documented life as of late which, coincidentally, is what the title of this blog is. And I have a hankering to write words without having to think too hard about them, so howsabout a little update post for my own sake. Like an update on Beckett. He’s 3 and really good at being 3. He is a little tootface that makes me laugh on a minutely basis. Have you seen that little chunky kid who says “apppparennttllyyyy” a lot? That’s Beck with the words “actually” and “seriously”. It’s amazing. He’s potty trained for the most part, and he’s really good at entering a…
Oh, the Places You’ll Poo
We spent 30 minutes in a Braum’s bathroom last week. 30 minutes of an 8 hour road trip spent in a fast food bathroom stall. I thought lugging a kid (or two) and a diaper bag into a bathroom stall for my own potty break was intense. I just had no idea. Potty training is no joke. And while the conversations my boy and I have while spending ample time in public bathrooms are a slow and painful death by embarrassment, I know they’ll be funny one day. Maybe you remember these conversations. Or maybe you’re in the thick of them. Or maybe they will make you swear off having children. Regardless, I want to…
