Sweet Little Things

This morning I took Child 1 to school. I was in a slightly bitchy mood because the morning felt rushed and nothing went as planned. Child 2 peed through his diaper and everything was soaking wet. Child 1 didn't want to wear the shoes I got out, so he had to go in search of others. Just a frustrating morning in my opinion.

There was an argument between Child 1 and Child 2, over toys this morning. It was incredibly two sided for having a child that doesn't speak yet. Child 1 said what he had to say and Child 2 screamed in return. It was lovely and added to the ambiance of the morning.

There was more yelling in the car, this time only from Child 2. But Child 1 wanted to listen to the radio and couldn't hear it. Which resulted in Child 1 yelling at Child 2. Now it was time to add in the mommy headache.

THEN we got to school. And I was presented with a necklace Child 1 made me, and a blueberry muffin that Child 1 helped make too. Accompanied by an incredibly sweet hug and an "I love you, Mommy." And my headache completely went away.

Sometimes I find myself getting overwhelmed by the every day life. The little things I need to get done, or I want other people to do, and the list keeps growing and it never stops. There are so many things that I feel like I have to get done NOW. And it stresses me out.

But then my kids do something incredibly wonderful and unexpected. And Child 1 does it with such emotion and passion that it is impossible to still stay in the mindset of having a bad day. He was so happy to do something nice for someone else that it instantly lightened my day.

I remember what it was like before having children, and I can honestly say that my life is better off with them. Even with all the negative things that come across in my posts, I love my little assholes with all my heart. After all, they are just like their mother....

2,000 page view GIVEAWAY!

We (and by that I mean me and the lovely website that lets me post my shit) are getting close to 2,000 reads. This is a big deal for me seeing as how my blog started only 2 months ago. I'm proud of how many times people have followed my rantings. And my ridiculous stream of consciousness I have.

Because I love everyone who read this, even if we have never met, I am hosting a 2,000 page view giveaway.

I will be creating a small basket of goodies for someone to win. What's in it shall remain a mystery until I reveal the winner. But it will be worth what you have to do. So without further ado, the rules.

RULE 1: Read the blog. If you're seeing this, you probably read it anyway. But if you don't and you only clicked on this because of a giveaway, read it anyway. Don't be one of those people.

RULE 2: You must comment on this post why you love reading my blog. You can leave a comment in the comments section at the bottom of this entry. If you're reading this on your smartphone, go down to the bottom of the page and click "view desktop version" (or some variation of wording.)

RULE 3: Keep reading this blog. There will be future giveaways. Don't want to miss free shit. That's the best shit to get.


I love watching my views numbers climb. I check it every day, sometimes more if I post something really off the wall. I love seeing where my readers are (kudos to my family in Germany for reading it! And whoever reads it from Canada....). I love hearing what you guys have to say. A lot of times I hear "My God that happens in my house!" and that, my friends, is why I write. Sometimes I feel like I am alone in the craziness of being the only female in a house of boys. I am surrounded by dirty bathrooms and tons of underwear and farts. Lots of farts.

This is my way of connecting with the people who matter. The moms who stay at home and take care of the family, then rush off to work at night to help pay the bills. The moms who stay at home all day, and then keep staying at home all night (and only getting quiet when the hyenas go to bed). The moms who work all day and become a stay at home mom in the evening. Whatever version of working or non-working mom you are, you never get a break. I am right there with you.

My giveaway will not include farts (although I acquired a whoppee cushion for the kids I'm thinking of giving away) or dirty underwear. You guys have enough of that I'm sure.

Now, get to commenting so I can pick a random winner when I hit 2,000 views! Make it a funny story. The best story of how you can relate to my post, or why you love reading it will get an extra entry into the random drawing!

My posting delay



Hello, my friends. I have been away. Well not really, I've been here. But I've been busy. I set out on a mission this weekend and I did it. I actually did it.

I wanted to revoke my previous name I gave myself. I am (or was) a non-finisher. Let me be clear, I still am. I procrastinate a lot and don't always finish. Usually I don't finish. Ok, almost always I don't finish what I start.

I believe I have adult ADHD, or I always did. I simply can't finish just about anything. BUT!!!! I finished something this weekend. I finished an entire blanket. A whole one. And it's big enough to cover my entire son. And I'm talking Child 1, the big kid.

I was really proud of myself that I did it. I can make small stuff no problem, so it seems like Child 2 reaps the benefits. Keep in mind, Child 1 used to reap the benefits, but then he grew. And kept growing. And making him stuff is like a chore.

But, I felt he really could use something very nice. We are running the nightmare course right now. In my head, a blanket that Mommy made might help make him feel safe. I don't think it will work, but anything was worth a try.

Here my friends, is why I've been absent. But I am now back, and will post my regular bitchiness again. I've been storing up some good stuff so keep an eye out the next couple days.

Age is more than just a number

Something happened yesterday. And it was something I didn't even realize until later in the day when a coworker pointed it out.

I turned 31 yesterday. I wasn't the least bit concerned. I hit 30 and nothing bad happened. In fact, 30 was my benchmark. I wanted two kids by the time I was 30. I confidently flew through my birthday extremely pregnant and knew I was happy with where I was.

This year, ended slightly different. I am now fully "in my 30's". I don't have to tell anyone my real age for a few more years. I can just say "I'm in my 30's". Unless it's the cops. They want a real number. Or the DMV. They won't put 30's as an age on your driver's license. Again. Because of the cops.

I'm also well enough established in life that I don't give a flying hoot what people think of me.

You can see my gray hair? That's because I'm in my 30's and it's ok to have gray hair. At 25, I needed to dye that shit once a month. Now, I'll live with it for a few more weeks. Doesn't bother me any. Besides, I earned them fair and square. Life around these parts isn't always easy. I came by those gray hairs the old fashioned way- I had kids who drive me nuts.

I'm out of shape? I had two children, one by C-section. I work nights so I can stay home with them during the day. And I like cupcakes. I'm in my 30's. A set of love handles never killed anyone. But please be aware, I hate them and I am going to the gym. But "in your 30's" is when the weight doesn't seem to melt off anymore like it used to. And I'm ok with it. Or at least it isn't giving me panic attacks yet.

I don't drive a cool car? Yeah well, it's not important to me. What I need is a car with 4 doors and enough room for me to move my seat far enough away from little feet that I don't feel like I'm riding a bad roller coaster when I'm driving. I need a car that has enough room for all the toys I have to take everywhere. I don't care if it's cool. Hell, I don't even care if it's all the same color. It's all about convenience at this point. (For the record, what we really need is a limo. With sound proofing in the back. For the kids to play. Dad and I can ride up front.)

I don't wear cool clothes? Listen, be thankful they aren't covered in shit. That's my requirement now. Most everything gets bought at Wal-mart because it's just going to end up with stuff plastered on it anyway. Mostly on my back, where I can't see it. That's the prime place for sticky disgusting hands to end up when they give you sweet baby hugs.

All in all, yesterday made me realize that I have entered the portion of my life where I can just be me. At 21, everyone cares what you wear and drive and how cool you are. At 25, everyone cares what you look like. At 31 with 2 kids, people are just impressed when you have on anything but sweatpants and your hair isn't hiding treats for later.

This is exactly the spot where I want to be. I've never been one for caring what anyone thought of me anyway, but at least now no one expects me to. I'm actually looking forward to turning 40. That's the next big one. That's when I never have to dye my hair again, I can go to the store in anything I want, AND my kids will be old enough to not have to have me walk them to school anymore, which means I can wear sweatpants all day.

I'm totally going to start doing that soon anyway, but at least at 40, no one will care.

My house....

You know, I try really damn hard to be everything I need to be on a daily basis. I am the sole care provider for a 9 month old child for roughly 60 hours a week (Daddy is in a salaried position and his job is not one that he gets the privilege of having set hours.) I am the sole person responsible for the management of a 5 year olds care as well. Coordinating appointments, meetings, school, out of school activities, you name it.

A lot of my life is taken up by kids. I knew this going into the whole stay at home mom thing. I just didn't realize how taxing it could be. One thinks about staying home with your kids as a day of cuddles and movies and sunshine. In reality, I clean up puke a lot more than I should have to, at least once a day I find shit on my clothing and immediately have to change, and yesterday, I took my son to school with someones breakfast in my hair. This is not glamorous. Nor is it fun.

Add onto that pile of fun the fact that at some point I'm supposed to clean and cook and shop! There are 2 slight problems with this equation.
1. I only have two hands.
2. There are only 24 hours in a day.

Something somewhere has to give. I have already given up most of my extras. I am never seen with anything but jeans and sweatshirts on. Most of the time I make time to shower, but I'm still not sure I remember to wash everything. The essentials get done. The clothes get washed, but not always folded right away. The dishes get washed, but usually end up staying in the drying rack far longer than most people want to admit to. My house is clean, but cluttered.

But you want to know what I do have done? I have a better relationship with Child 2 at this age than I did with Child 1. Sure, Child 1 loved me and I loved him. But I felt like we didn't get to spend enough time together. With Child 2, he clearly prefers Mommy, and we spend way more time together. I missed a lot with Child 1 due to working so much. I'm not missing anything with Child 2. Although there are days I miss working and want to go back.

My house will never make it on the cover of any magazines. It's clean sure, but that's about all I can say for it. I value spending time with my children much more than I value organizing my closets and making room for more stuff. So when you come here, please don't point out my flaws. I'm well aware of them.

Just be thankful I didn't answer the door with shit on my shirt......

The hardest post I've written yet

I don't normally put family business on the internet. A lot of my close friends and family will not be surprised by what is in this post. Some people will be shocked. Some people won't understand. What I'm asking is when you read this, please GOD don't read it with sympathy. Or an "Oh I'm so sorry" attitude. That's not the point, and I don't need it.

Today is World Autism Awareness Day. Big deal right? To me, it has become a big deal. Child 1 was diagnosed last year with PDD-NOS. Which falls on the autism spectrum. Does it make our life harder? Sure does. Usually in not so wonderful ways that other people simply don't understand.

Do you have to call your evening meal lunch? I do, or else my child won't eat. Do you have to say everything just the way you mean it? I do, as my child is incredibly literal and takes things JUST the way you say them. There is no room for interpretation.

Does it make my child any less important than any of your children? Nope. Just makes him different. Just means we have a bigger team of people who are helping my child be the best person he can be. Does it mean he has a "disability"? Not as far as I can see. My kid is intelligent. He says things you would expect to hear from an adult. He remembers things forever. Most often the ones you simply want him to forget.

What my child is, is a child. He's my child. He's my world. He's the life of the party. He loves attention. He loves to talk. He loves to make up stories. He's the best pretender I've ever seen. That kid can make up stuff like nobodies business. Occasionally it has gotten us in trouble and he fills in the blanks sometimes with what he makes up. Which is also hysterical when we get down to the bottom of what really happened.

Child 1 has wormed his way into the hearts of everyone I've ever seen him interact with. My child has been kicked out of 3 daycares in the past (Clue 1 that something wasn't quite the same as other kids). I have never seen a daycare director cry and hug a kid when they had to ask that he not return. It happened with mine. They were so sad to lose him because at his best he is the most wonderful, caring, empathetic, smart, sarcastic, funny, off the wall kid ever.

At his worst, he's that kid you see in the grocery store who won't get off the floor. He's the kid who HAS to take a toy with him EVERYWHERE and will undoubtedly use it to slam into you in the check out line at some point. I'm the parent who has to say sorry to a lot of people on some days. But I'm also the parent who gets to smile proudly when my son steals the Christmas Play and gets compliments from everyone in the audience.

I love my son regardless. I would give anything in the world for my child. Some days I wake up mad that he has this "issue" because his life IS harder than other kids. Things are hard for him. Regular things you take for granted are sometimes things he has to work at. And the reason I sometimes get mad is because I want what every parent in the world wants. I want my kid to be happy. I want him to have a better life than I did. I want him to be whatever he wants to be.

And some day he will. I have to remind myself that what is hard today, he will learn. What I see as a problem, he sees as life. It's not a problem. We just got a different set of cards than other people. But we are playing the same game. We just have to find a way to make our cards work for the game.

No, I don't want sympathy or sad eyes. And please, refrain from telling me you understand when you have no idea what I'm talking about. Your kid throwing a tantrum sometimes is not the same. If you want to relate to me, tell me about the great things our kids do that are the same. Don't point out that your kid sometimes does bad things too. Every kid does bad stuff, that's what God made naps for. So you have an hour away from them so you don't kill them. They are all bad.

Tell me your kid loves to dance, because mine recently learned to shake his butt and does it everywhere. Tell me your kid loves to read, and I'll tell you about the national geographic books we read as bedtime stories. Tell me your kid is an amazing artist, and I'll tell you Child 1 hates to draw but can do puzzles like Rainman. Tell me your kid recently learned the word "ass" so I don't feel so bad that my kid picks up my bad sayings sometimes.

Even if you don't have autism in your family, you probably know someone affected by it. April is Autism Awareness Month. Ask me questions if you want. Take the time to learn something about it. It affects a lot of children. Some way worse than others. But don't qualify us either. Hearing "I bet you are glad your kid is high functioning" makes it seem like the parents with lower functioning kids are worse off than we are. They aren't. They can share some of the same things we can. I know a person with a lower functioning child whose son can do math in his head that I would have to do on paper.

Every single autistic person has good qualities. Don't overlook them and only see the meltdowns and tantrums and poor social skills. I want you to look at Child 1 and see a kid with a particular zest for life. I want you to look at Child 1 and see a kid who is so fascinated with learning new things that he wants to learn everything. I want you to look at Child 1 and just see happy.

In a way, I'm glad to be a parent of an autistic kid. It made me a better parent. It made me a better learner. It made me more empathetic. It made me more caring. It made me more passionate. It made me take the time to learn about other things that other kids are dealing with. It made me more likely to take the time to stop and answer why. And it made my family part of this huge group of people with the most amazing kids ever.

 Not that your typical kid isn't amazing, but autistic kids are pretty damn cool.

Sometimes you can't answer why with a real answer

Today I learned you can give a child too much information. Honestly, I've learned this quite a few times, but in the moments of "why?" I often forget the lesson I just learned last week. When you give a literal child too much information, you can create a crisis mode. I did that today. Bad Mommy.

I have never thought twice about honestly answering my sons questions, until they turn around to bite me in the ass. Today, I had a giant chunk taken out of my ass. A. GIANT. CHUNK. And it was ugly. And it made a scene.

Today, I was that parent everyone gives the hairy eyeball to. I was the mother everyone apologizes to when they walk out the door. But the nurses were amused. And I guess that made up for it. Everyone with a medical degree got a chuckle.

A few months ago, Child 1 was biting himself or something equally annoying, and I told him if he bit too hard, he would bleed. Child 1, being the child he is, had to know the in's and out's of what I was talking about. I told him if he bled too much, he would die. If you lose all your blood, you will die.

Horribly graphic I know, but sometimes with Child 1 you have to exaggerate to get your point across. I exaggerated for effect. It worked too, as he has not bit himself or anyone else since I told him about the blood thing. Point in Mommy's column, right? WRONG!

Today, Child 1 had to have blood work done. See where this is going? They were taking his blood!!!!! He almost gave himself a stroke sitting in the lab at the doctors office. People could probably hear him screaming 2 towns over. Mommy then had to explain Child 1's over-the-top reaction to the blood work. Not only do needles scare him, but they hurt, and he thinks he will die.

This began a diatribe which consisted of him telling the nurses that he will have to go to the hospital if they take his blood and he will die. Complete with hyperventilation, crocodile tears and intense screaming. Ever seen a nurse try to be empathetic to a crying child while at the same time completely losing her shit about something you told your child? I have. Before we even left the lab, the story of what I had done was making it's rounds.

The nurse was kind enough to grab a Styrofoam cup from the lounge and give Child 1 a large drink to help calm him down. And bubbles. And a sticker. And a hug. Mommy simply got a smile followed by a "Made my day. Thanks."

I am now that Mommy. The Mommy who creates crisis' with explanations. Here I thought he would have forgotten, but that simply did not happen. I made an ass out of all of us today.