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There is a list of things, floating aimlessly in my head, that are just never going to happen. This list of “to-do” is about as mythical as a unicorn in the fact that it seems plausible, possible, but will never exist except in my imagination. I’d need a fairy god-mother to accomplish all of this and they tell me those are mythical too. So is it not destined to be? Or should I keep on my magical quest to…
Do ALL The Laundry: Every single piece, folded and sorted into each person respective drawer.
Not. Gonna. Happen. By the time I give up for the day there’s still that weird stuff on the bottom of the laundry room floor like Elsa Costumes and baby bathing suits and then there’s the off season stuff that wasn’t as high on the priority list as underwear. Plus if you do get close to that shiny golden last load, your child will then decide to play dress up AND Spaghetti Restaurant at the same time. Boom! You’re back up to 3 loads.
Have the Whole House Clean & Tidy: All rooms, including the Laundry room. (You can see how this is failing already.)
This is probably possible if you do not have children. Or a husband. If you do, than you probably know no matter how clean and tidy it looks to guests, there’s one room upstairs with the door shut that you delegated the “clutter” room soon before every one arrived. You had the best intentions but by the time you got the kitchen cleaned the living room had took on all the new toys the kids found when you cleaned their rooms…and so you just scoop that shit into a laundry basket and hope nobody opens your bedroom door when they go to the bathroom. (Sidenote: Why do we worry about this? Who are we inviting over that snoops behind closed doors? Medicine cabinet maaaybee…but opening doors?)
Finishing My Book: I really want to read this trilogy before the movies become classics.
Yeah.freaking.right. Look, I have 2 kids and I KNOW they reach an age where they are a bit more independent and don’t rely on your for every single thing. For me, 0-2 has never been that age. There is so much crap going on in my head just trying to keep Kid 1 from maiming Kid 2 and Kid 2 from maiming herself (we’ve hit the biting and climbing stages at the same time, how’s that for fun?) that I’m lucky to read a few blog posts over the span of a day. They do finally go to bed but I’m so exhausted from Maim-Watch 2015 that I don’t want to use my brain for anything other than eating something without sharing or watching Netflix on my phone while lying in bed.
Freezer Meals: Life would be so much easier if I could just grab something and throw it in the crockpot every afternoon.
Wouldn’t it though?! This would require the chopping and preparing of many things, bagging it, labeling, and placing them all in the freezer. It all seems easy enough in a Pinterest Pin but I can’t tell you the last time I didn’t forget something at the store. I’d get started and need another ingredient (or 10). Plus the kids would surely need to eat at the exact moment they see/smell I’m making these meals and wouldn’t get that they’re not for today. “Really Mom? You’re cooking food and we can’t have any of it? We’re hungry today, not tomorrow.” So then I’d be making a regular meal along with the freezer meal. Also I’d eat half of everything before it even reached the bag.
So many Unicorns, so little time. What is on your Unicorn To-Do list?
You wake up happy, vowing to have an amazing day and not lose your cool like yesterday. Throw in a few woodland creatures (WHY did we get THREE cats again?!) and tiny evil gnomes (Mommy loves you!) and you’ll go down in a puff of smoke labeled the “Evil Queen” once again. When did my life become a jacked up Mom version of a Disney Movie? I guess it has something to do with these:
You’re always late for the ball. You blame the kids but really it’s the fact that you keep underestimating the time it takes to get 2 kids dressed and then redressed after the big one spills yogurt on her shirt and the little one poops herself.
Your carriage barely runs better than a pumpkin and you can’t find anyone willing to transform a mini-van into a kid friendly Porsche.
You can shoot ice daggers from your eyes that rival anything Elsa can do with her hands. If you want to test that power kiddies, just sing “Let it Go” one. more. time.
Every bath-time leads to a epic meltdown because someone doesn’t want to get her hair brushed. She acts like it’s a deleted scene in Tangled where Rapunzel has to get her 25 miles of hair combed out with a porcupine.
Your kids will wake you up with a kiss. Or a kick to the groin, knee to the boob, punch to the chest cavity. Whatever gets the job done and gets you up and making their breakfast like the Princess you are!
You’re half convinced your offspring are being secretly raised by a Baboon judging by their climbing abilities and need to strip down to their underwear every chance they get. Might as well see if they have any child sized loincloths on Amazon.
Children have absolutely no filter. They’ll say super embarrassing things about people right in front of them with Giselle (Enchanted) like naivety and wonder. “Look Mommy that man has long hair like a girl!” Yes dear, where’s that hole to another world you crawled out of I desperately want to jump in it.
Some days it seems like you live in Neverland because everyone is acting like a baby. Then they go to sleep and are finally quiet. Nobody is hitting anybody else and you stare at them and it’s Toy Story all the way cause “Look how big they are! They’re getting independent and soon they won’t need me anymore.” I guess you never really regret biting into that motherhood apple. Sure some days the poison hurts but in the end its Happily Most-of-the-Time After!
I am not an authority on anything. I’m a mom but I’m learning that you can’t depend on what worked with the first to work with the second and so on. I wear clothes but I couldn’t tell you what’s “hot right now” on the runways. I’m a blogger but I do not profess to have a full grasp on how all that works nor do I claim to have perfected the written word.
With a grain of salt and an understanding of sarcasm please allow me to fill you in on what *I* feel needs to be”In” and “Out” this season.
Out: Super Brows.
You know what I mean. That whole trend of drawing your brows in with extra wide black permanent marker. I’m not talking shading and elongating. I’m talking wide-enough-to-drive-a-car-or-a-small-pickup-to-your-ears-on kinda brows.
In: Mom Brows.
That “the kid had an ear infection and I had to cancel my waxing…last year” look needs to happen. STAT. You pluck enough stragglies in the sun visor mirror in the car on your way to work to not look like a Muppet and lick your finger and tame the rest down.
Out: Booty Shorts.
I believe in letting people wear whatever they want but for the love of comfort can these please go away?! I would just like to have the choice, at least, of buying normal shorts that I don’t have to pull out of my crotchal region or c section flap.
In: Sweat shorts.
I knowwww. How uncool. Those are for the gym or sleeping in. Well, so were track suits but we all had one with “Juicy” or “Sweet” or something equally degrading written across the ass (that never saw the inside of a gym) about a decade ago. So I say bring on the sweat shorts! It’s 2015 so we’re all evolved a bit more. We can put “Future PhD” and “Proud Mom” and inspirational messages on the ass now.
Out: Grammar Police
I make grammatical errors. We all make typos. It can be annoying in some situations, sure. When you buy a book and find a spelling mistake it’s a wtf moment since there were probably countless edits and proofreads before it went to print. What I have a problem with is those people who feel the need to police every error, everywhere. When you are *they’re-*there-*their-ing on your friends text messages and Instagram captions you’re embarrassing them and you look like an asshole. Everyone hasn’t had the privilege of a great education. Everyone’s first language is not English. And frankly? Everyone doesn’t care as much as you about a comma in a post about what they had for dinner.
In: Happy Police.
When is the last time you got in touch with someone simply to see how they were? To ask if there was anything you could do for them? Kindness is SO underrated and totally hot this season. Drop cookies off at the firehouse. Carry out an elderly ladies groceries from the supermarket. Call your Mom. It is never, ever not worth it to spread some happiness.
I love trying new foods and making new recipes. I think its great to incorporate more healthy options into our meals. These are the days of “all or nothing” though and people pick one food and run with it. Kale baked/fried/made into smoothies and applied directly to your trouble areas with a dollop of coconut oil and a side of qineoa is the name of the game. There’s so many recipes out there for the aforementioned items that one could exist solely for the rest of time living on nothing but. Don’t get me started on how vinegar is supposed to cure every ailment known to man, Goddess, and Mythical Dragon.
In: Making Informed Choices.
Trust me, that article your Great Uncle shared on your wall saying you are killing your kids with baby carrots is wrong. Those posts floating around talking about negative foods are just more fuel for an already body image troubled nation. Its time to take Google back and search before you share! If something seems unlikely, snopes.com it!
There are so many things we’re all guilty of or are tired of. The list goes on and on. What’s your number one “In and Out” of the season?
Almost every movie out there gives Canadian children unrealistic expectations about holidays. Take today for example. First day of Easter holidays for my husband and it snows, then rains, and the roof starts leaking.
If we want to do an Easter egg hunt it’s going to go down a lot differently than kids rolling around on green grass covered hills in light spring dress clothes like you see in the movies. Its not just here in Canada. As “adults” we all imagine the perfect holiday’s we’re going to throw and how magical they will be based on all the ads and movies and tv we’ve seen over the years. There’s another side to this whole Holiday game though.
Let me show you what I mean with a little game of “Expectation vs Reality”.
Egg Hunt: Expectation
Egg Hunt: Reality
Spring Fashions: Expectation
Spring Fashions: Reality
Family Dinner: Expectation
Family Dinner: Reality
Church (if you’re so inclined): Expectation
So that’s my Easter reality check for the day. After all is said and done its worth it to spend time with the family. Also, I’m not knocking the copious amount of chocolate bunnies and eggs I get to mutilate. Hey that’s one less candy that’s going to rot my child’s teeth right?
Whatever the tradition in your family, make the best of it and have a great (or bearable at least) holiday!
I’m sure since becoming a parent you now have your own list of people who drive you insane. And right there at the top are these assholes. The people who really really hate parents.
1. Children’s Toy Packaging Inventors: I’m not sure if this is an actual job title or if the makers of children’s toys just email hell and ask Satan’s Minions to send up their best work. You rip off a plastic dome, undo little ties of rope, cut through cardboard, risk death cutting through plastic ties with a large kitchen knife, and realize in the end you need a damn screwdriver to get the final plastic device – which appears to have no actual purpose – off the back. Meanwhile, your child is having an epic meltdown that can not be consoled by anything other than the toy…and that’s when you find out it doesn’t come with batteries.
Read the rest at ScaryMommy! Click below for more!
You’re a stay at home Mom? What do you do all day?
Oh not much really. Raising kids, cleaning, doing laundry that never gets done.
Sometimes though, for my own amusement I go on the internet. (Sometimes. Lol! I’m killing myself here!)
You can find me…
Booking Front Row Seats to Facebook Fights: Nothing breaks up the day like a good old fashioned Facebook fight (that doesn’t involve me). I know I should be appalled that people I know are airing their dirty laundry on the internet like a smiling Mom in a Tide commercial. I just can’t. I’ll pop a bottle of wine and refresh that page 100 times if it means I get to be privy to some fighting that doesn’t involve trying to wrangle socks on a toddler. There’s a lot of monotony that comes with being home all day so pass the popcorn, Aunt Sally just told your little cousin she looks like a ho in her 14th selfie of the day.
Scrolling the Virtual Aisles of Amazon: How did we live before online shopping? People actually got dressed and went to a physical store and had to choose from whatever was there? Not anymore! Say you need a new pen. Well amazon has 438,801 options for you ranging from fairly priced to “2nd Mortgage”.
Reading the Comment Sections (AKA Douchebag Area): There isn’t enough breath in my body to describe how utterly despicable some people can be in the comment sections of, well, anything. Posting anything from a picture of your child to a highly researched article all become fodder for the assholes and know-it-alls of the world. Once you scroll down far enough under a blog post or article a world of brain/butt hurt opens up. You’ll flip back and forth from “is anyone really that stupid” to “I can’t believe someone would say that” faster than a teenage mood swing.
Getting Lost in Random Instagram Accounts: Be it celebrity or otherwise you can get lost on Instagram .You’re searching a hash tag and somehow get swallowed into an abyss of selfies and cat pictures and an hour later you lift your head and realize you know every outfit that Kim Kardashian wore in the last 3 years and who designed it.
Examining the Leavings of Advice Trolls : Be it blog or facebook or any venue with a comment section, you will surely find that one person who can make it all better. Post “Omg I just hit a squirrel with my car!!!” and someone will tell you what Natural Oils will revive the squirrel while simultaneously buffing the scratch from your bumper. 3 people will give you the name of their favorite car dealership and there will always be that one person that cries over the squirrel and and tells you to be careful. DO NOT post a pic of the incident because someone else will undoubtedly tell you that your 13 year old should be rear facing and this wouldn’t have happened if you had your mirrors positioned differently.
There are really not enough commendations out there for women who go through emotional hell each month with their periods and come out the other side without seeing the inside of a courtroom or police car. Its a turbulent time. Emotions are high. You’ve put on some water weight and want to break the scales into a million pieces. Maybe someone says “You’re so emotional today, are you PMSing?!” and you want to break them into a million pieces.
Now I like to think of myself as a fairly calm person most of the time. I don’t always blame everything on PMS or my period and I’m not prone to paranoid rambling texts on a normal day. This day however, all signs pointed to Emotional-ville and I hopped aboard the Crazy Train with gusto.
The quickest way to start a fake fight that’s not actually happening is texting.
You cant’ read tone in text, sarcasm is lost sometimes, and nobody knows what the other person is doing so they assume they’re ignoring them if they don’t reply right away. If you add hormones into this mix its basically a uterus shaped atom bomb.
Below I’ve outlined the 6 stages of messaging my husband while he was busy at work. It is with shame and indignity that I have to ask myself, and you, “Should I be allowed to use technology while menstruating? Is it really worth the bumpy ride on the Crazy Train?”
Stage One: Emotional Turmoil
This emotion floods in like the period you just started. Life is so HARD and everything that can go wrong will go wrong in that first day. So you turn to your husband for some support.
“I’m so upset. I’m sick & have a doctors appointment for tomorrow. EVERYTHING SUCKS!!!”
Stage 2: Delusional
Obviously the fact that he hasn’t replied means everything you ever thought he was is a lie. It couldn’t be that he’s busy at work, or dealing with a difficult client. Nope. Life as you know it is obviously falling apart. Your head is swimming with the horrors of custody battles. That’s if the not-so-sweet release of death doesn’t get you first based on the sore throat and ear you’re bemoaning.
“I feel like we’re headed for divorce and Google says I have cancer. I’m probably dying.”
Stage 3: Window of Saneness
A brief moment of good sense creeps back in your mind. You feel like maybe you’ve been overreacting just…a tad. OK so maybe he’s busy. He is at work. I’m being crazy.
“Sorry I’m so emotional. I’m all over the place. Period.”
Stage 4: Liam Neeson
The next obvious reaction is to ponder the merit of the radio silence being due to someone else having his phone and laughing gleefully at his crazed wife messaging him in a period induced psychotic break. You threaten said kidnappers in the best way you know how.
“If you kidnapped my husband I will find you and go “Liam-Neeson-With-A-Kidnapped-Daughter” on your ass. I will find you……..and I will kill you.”
*Husband Finally Replies*
Stage 5: Cold Treatment
So you hear some details about how busy he’s been coupled with an “Love you” and it sinks in even more how…slightly over the top…you have been. You can’t give up there, however. If you act too happy to hear from him right away it would be like admitting that your “overreactions” were something to be ashamed of. Liam Neeson never apologizes. Why should you?
Here’s where you insert your best bitch face emojji.
Followed by this gem.
His reply? “That’s good I guess.”
Stage 6: Normalcy Returns
You find yourself able to chat about the kids and bills without ripping anyone’s head off. Maybe you even still like him a little bit. Maaaybe you can admit to your self that no, you probably shouldn’t be allowed anywhere near a keyboard of any sort on Day One of your period.
When you text your friend aka his office manager the following message.
“Well if he’s not busy and just ignoring me tell him to go fuck himself. If he’s busy tell him I love him and have a good day.”