Most Effective Birth Control February 25, 2010

Since having my second child in June of last year, I have been saying I do not want any more children. Actually, I have been saying that about midway through my pregnancy with Hudson. As of last week, I KNOW that I do not want anymore kids.

Feeling that I was becoming too accustomed to the daily madness that is our home, Matt agreed to throw our nephew, Cooper, into the hysterical hodgepodge that I affectionately call our daily routine.

Now, I love Cooper to death. But love can only get a child so far, and Cooper is a special case. Cooper is what happened when the Tasmanian Devil and Medusa decided to procreate. I know Cooper has pulled into the drive when the sky turns black and the house begins to shudder. The door flies open and Cooper dashes inside, pausing only long enough for his orange eyes to survey the area for anything to destroy!

At least, that’s the way it seems to someone who has only had experience working with princesses in training. It’s really not too bad. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself as I pop a Tums in my mouth and wash it down with a swig of Jose Cuervo. None of the horror stories that I have heard about Cooper play themselves out during his time in my home. I just didn’t realize how much work adding one more child can be. It means more poop to clean up, more food and juice to pour, more toys to weave my way through, and another person barreling towards me to dodge. Those 5:00 a.m. plyometric workouts are paying off!

So I offer my four faithful readers my most sincere apologies. I have not been as attentive to my writing as I should have. However, with Cooper here, I will have plenty adventures to talk about – once my discombobulated brain orients itself.

The Greatest Love of All February 14, 2010

Parenting is for suckers! We are totally being taken advantage of. It is a growing epidemic that I feel the need to warn the the global population (or at least the 4-6 people who read my blog each day) about.

First, as women we sacrifice our bodies for over three quarters of a year to allow these microhumans to prepare themselves for life outside the womb. It’s only then, as you pass these helpless little creatures through the sacred canal that they suck you in. Once you hold that little “angel” in your arms, you will feel love like you’ve never felt before (only not in the sacred canal), a love beyond  human comprehension!

After the doctors and nurses have deemed you worthy enough to care for this small human, you take it home. You do everything and I mean EVERYTHING for this baby that you hold so dearly to your heart. You feed it, wipe its butt, bathe it, dress it, soothe it, spend all of your money on diapers for it, and for those of you who choose or cannot breast feed it, oh the dollars you will spend on formula! You love this baby with all that you have within never asking for anything in return.

And what do we get in return? We get pooped on, peed on, spit up on, vomited on, hair pulled, kicked, scratched, bitten, breasts abused by, kept up all night by, and basically lose all concept of privacy. And those are just the good things!

But, as parents, we also get a lifetime’s worth of smiles, giggles, laughs, hugs, kisses, and hopefully eventually a high rollin’ deluxe nursing home! I would live through hundreds of the aforementioned monstrosities to have just a single moment of hearing Veronica or Hudson’s laughter and knowing that it came from me.

So on this Valentine’s Day, I will proclaim my love for my children to the world! Their wish is my command no matter how great or small.  I will drudge away all day, knowing the whole time that I am a major sucker!

Toddlers, Dictators, and Vampires February 11, 2010

My mother had this saying she loved to say as I was growing up. She said it over and over! She would say it and cackle like the Wicked Witch of the West.

“When you get married, your life will never be the same. But, when you have kids, your house will never be the same!”

Twelve years later, my mother’s voice haunts me. I hear that cackle every time I trip over Veronica’s toys or pick up the trail of jackets and mittens left in the wake of Veronica entering our home. It mocks me as I struggle to keep up with cleaning dried up macaroni and cheese on the dining room floor or dig formula crusted bottles from underneath Hudson’s crib.

It seems that my two year old and even my eight month old are faster at creating chaos out of order than their 27 year old mother can subdue the wee ones anarchy. I’m not even sure that Hitler and Stalin joining forces, would be enough to conquer the coercions put forth by Veronica and Hudson.

Showing any sign of frustration or weariness only increases their attempts at undoing any sort of good that I may accomplish. They feed off it, like a dog sensing fear. They never stop daring you to punish them. It reminds me of a conversation between vampires Lestat and Marius in the movie “Interview With the Vampire.”

Lestat: “Maybe I’ll obey the rules. Some of them, anyway. What are you going to do if I don’t and by the way, haven’t I asked you this before?”

Marius: “You are the damndest creature. You make me think of the old story about Alexander the Great. He wept when there were no more worlds to conquer. Will you weep when there are no more rules to break?”

Lestat: “Ah, but there are always rules to break.”

Marius: “You are an imp, Lestat, you know it? A brat.”

Now, I don’t know if I would go as far to say my children are brats, but they do get a kick out of doing things they are not supposed to. They push the boundaries as much as they can.

That’s when my role as child immobilizer comes in. I have certainly learned the techniques required to tranquilize and immobilize my two children. It is in those quiet nap and night time hours that VICTORY IS MINE!

I crawl into bed at night ready to recuperate and re-energize for another day. I fall asleep, the sound of my mother’s laughter mocking me.

Domestic Warfare February 8, 2010

Satan knows I’m onto him. He has been coming into my house at night and swapping sweet angelic Veronica out for his spawn leaving me to deal with the screaming, tantrums, and all out havoc. I have also figured out he had been coming into Hudson’s room whispering in his ears giving him a double ear infection.  I’ve finally begun to learn to deal with these Satanic switchouts and now he’s changing tactics because my children have started to adapt.

Veronica and Hudson have been a little too well behaved and a little too happy lately. Veronica has been wanting to help feed Hudson and willing to share her toys with him. She has only had to go in time out twice in the past six days…strange. Hudson has been all smiles and giggles lately; even when sleepy, he still is sweet, cuddly, and adorable. I wonder how long they are going to continue this backward  wartime strategy?

They know that I have been using their antics for good. The two demon children have left and taken all of my creativity with them. I need to start proclaiming to the world what wonderfully well-behaved children I have!  They wouldn’t be able to stand it! They would have to prove me wrong!

So I will play their little game. But I am on to them. I know that when I lay them in their beds and kiss them goodnight, behind those sweet innocent smiles lie two little brains that plot the many ways they can terrorize me each day. When they attack, I’ll be ready! Until then, I will just have to rant about mothers forcing their children to kill their pets and underage lingerie.

Calling all dirty Santas! February 4, 2010

Has watching Miley Cyrus nod her head “like yeah,” or move her hips “like yeah” ever made you squirm or feel demoralized from the “Achy Breaky” feeling in your pants? If you haven’t already seen, the latest news from America’s favorite white trash family will make even the most twisted child predator question if Billy Ray should be allowed to have children.

Miley’s nine year old sister, Noah (yes I said sister), is launching a new lingerie line for little girls along with bestie Emily Grace Reaves. The collection is being called “Ohh! La, la! Couture and is being marketed to ages 9- 14 . It features french maid outfits, fishnet stockings, animal prints…do the words BAD and IDEA and CHILD SERVICES come to mind? Has anyone of legal age opposed this? Just who are these nine year olds trying to look sexy for?

This isn’t the first adventure in this heartwarming family story. Noah Cyrus is known for dressing up as a dominatrix for Halloween and apparently knows how to work a stripper pole. Mommy and daddy must be proud! What a great example she will be for young vulnerable girls!

Don’t worry parents. This versatile clothing line that looks cute with ballet slippers and boots with lace stockings – whatever your pedophile fancy- will benefit Emily Grace’s charity, Lollipops and Rainbows. So when your daughter asks to throw a sexy slumber party just know that she is helping out the needy…

In the end… February 3, 2010

Did you know there is a parasite more common than head lice? If affects more than 40 million people each year and is most prevalent in children. You may have heard of it before but never really gave it much thought.  Or you may not have, in which case you’ve certainly never given it much thought.  Before today, I never had!

Watching ABC’s Dr. Oz this morning, particularly a segment called “Parasites in Your Gut, doc revealed the 3 most common types of worms and where they can be found in your body. Numbers one and two, tapeworms and roundworms respectively, were gross, slightly scary but nothing too exciting. But when Dr. Oz began introducing worm number three as the most prevalent, affecting more than forty million people each year, I began to wonder if I could be more familiar with it than I cared to think. Then he  said it was most common in children and being a mother of two, my interest officially piqued.

Pinworms are this very parasite of which I speak. Itching is the main sign that you have them – itching of the anus, that is. The jokes began running through my mind as soon as the words left the good doctor’s mouth. How he kept his composure while speaking of such a delicate subject, I do not know. But even I could not control myself when he looked directly into the camera and said for mother’s to place a piece of Scotch tape and put it across their child’s anus at night if they start to scratch their butt. In the morning take the tape off to see if they can see the worms on it!

If your mind ever works as immaturely as mine does, then you understand the humor that I found in this episode.  I don’t think I would be able to sleep with a sticky piece of plastic placed on my pooper!  In the demented toddler mind,  I think they would enjoy their parents having to closely examine what comes out of their rear ends!

Here’s the story if you would like more information on these nasty little butt creepers.

http://dailyhealthweb.blogspot.com/2010/02/dr-oz-reveals-3-most-common-worms-in.html

It comes complete with pictures, causes, symptoms, treatment, and prevention!

In the end, no pun intended, I really just wanted a reason to channel my inner 12-year-old boy and write about the holes in between our butt cheeks, challenging myself to think of as many ways to say sphincter as possible!  “Butt,” on a serious note, consider this a warning that if you ever begin to feel a strange tingle down there, you may just be one of the lucky 40 million.

A rose by any other name…

Around Christmas of last year, Veronica picked up the habit of calling me by my name, Amanda. I thought it was cute but it kind of made me sad. My baby’s little brain cells were multiplying faster and faster and I had no control over it. She was soaking in information from everything and everyone around her.

“Look! That’s Manda!”

“Hi Manda!”

“What’s wrong, Manda?”

Daddy thought it was hilarious.  Until she started calling him Matt!  Ha!  Actually I felt bad for him  just a tiny bit. He took it pretty hard, feeling like she was retracting all of her love for him each time she said Matt, Matt, Matt.

I went on a mission to enlighten this young, impressionable mind. I explained that everyone has a name that they are called. Bill, Juli, Ashley, Zachary, etc. I went even further to explain that some people also have titles such as Mommy, Daddy, Grandma, Aunt, etc. She had fun answering questions like, Who’s your mommy? Who’s your brother? The list goes on.

Fast forward to this February morning of 2010. Matt and I are sitting on the couch drinking our morning coffee and watching the news. I hear the pitter patter of little feet right before Veronica enters the room. Hair disheveled and eyes barely even slits, she obviously woke up before she was ready.  She bursts into tears and runs to me crying, “Hold you! Hold you!” I pick her up, soothe her, and love on her.

After a few minutes of this, she sits straight up and looks at me.

“I stopped crying! I feel better!”

Yay!! The hugs and kisses resume between the three of us.

“I wuv you, Manda.”

The moment was bittersweet. I love it when she tells me she loves me. But, really, does she have to call me Amanda? Here we go again.

“Yes baby. My name is Amanda but what do you call me?”

“Mommy!”

“Yes! What’s Daddy’s name?”

“Matt!”

“That’s right! What’s your brother’s name?”

“Hudson!”

“Wonderful! What’s your name?”

Veronica looks up and taps her index finger on her chin. She looks at me so seriously and shakes her head.

“I don’t have a name. I’m just Veronica.”

I smile and give her a big hug.

Ungrateful, I will never be again. I, at least, have a name to be called.

Once, twice, three times a toddler… February 1, 2010

The other day I was chatting on the phone with one of my two fathers-in-law (having two is a story for another blog), who  lives by the beach in California and always has an interesting take on things and good advice for me.  Anyway, Todd had checked out my blog and I wanted to get his thoughts.

“Now remember this, Amanda. Veronica will only be two, once.”

Hallelujah!  The chorus begins to sing and the Michael Jackson-trial-lady releases the doves!  I don’t know if the vacuum could survive another year of beatings from a curtain-rod weilding, dragon-slaying two-year-old! Don’t ask me why I have curtain rods within toddler reach, that explanation would go well into martini time!

With that news from Todd I feel energy anew! Only seven more months of refusal to get into the bath, followed by refusal to get out of the bath. Or the dinnertime disagreements when mommy wants to make grilled fish with rice, but Veronica wants to eat cheeseburgers and chocolate cake.  If you have a toddler you know what I mean, and if you have a puppy you may have a rough idea.

The flames of my excitement are doused by the fact that Hudson still has to go through year number two. Maybe we can just skip that year altogether? How about instead of being two once, we do nine twice? No? Well, that’s what kickboxing class is for, I guess.

Not to go off on a tangent, but I really think thoughtful Todd offered his words of encouragement to get mentioned in my blog.  After all, he is Matt’s dad and they say the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Like father, like son. Hmm…perhaps Matt will stay home during Hudson’s second year of life while I escape to go to work…

Do I sound like I totally hate my children? I really don’t. I thank god for my kids every second! Like any parent, I just need to vent some of my frustrations in hopes that one of you out there can relate and understand. I really have it pretty good. I’m blessed with three relatively well-behaved kids; well Matt does goof off from time to time! I realize they are only in the beginning years of their lives, except Matt. So while they will only be two, once; They will also be three, four, five, six…and eventually teenagers. I’m sure I will have LOTS to vent about then!  I wonder what they’ll grow up to be like?  Will I have done a good job in these formative years?  Am  I a good influence?  I can’t wait to see! The future is so bright!

But until then, I suppose I will enjoy Veronica while she is two!