Sunday Mom Confessions

It’s that time again…time for me to avoid putting any serious effort into writing, and give you the list of things I’ve done recently that wouldn’t make the cover of Parenting Magazine.  Enjoy.

This week, I have…

  1. Worn maternity pants to the office. I feel like this ends up on the confession list every month, but it’s true.  I also don’t believe any of my coworkers notice when I do this.
  2. Realized it’s been three weeks since I’ve done my own laundry.  Don’t worry, everyone else has clean clothes, and I have yet to turn a pair of underwear inside out for myself.  This stems from the burned out light bulb in my closet, which has in turn provided enough material for an entire blog post.  I know you’re looking forward to that.
  3. Forgotten that Miles is on Mixed Veggie Protest.  Instead, he has opted to eat only peas, corn and carrots, but not mixed together.  At dinner this evening, I proceeded to separate all mixed veggies.  That, my friends, is love.  It is also understanding that he has most likely inherited his mother’s whack OCD.
  4. Eaten three grilled cheese sandwiches and two fried turkey bologna sandwiches for lunch.  Yesterday, I ate half a head of broccoli with some dip, so I believe that balances out the grilled cheese.  I’m tired and lazy.
  5. Prayed to the gods of the twelve month molars to let the teeth come in already, so the kid will stop chewing on my car keys every chance he gets.
  6. Attempted to bake a butterscotch brownie using a recipe I’m completely unfamiliar with, off the bag of butterscotch chips no less.  It turned out to be an 8×8 butterscotch chocolate chip cookie disaster, that couldn’t even be cut.  Instead of throwing it away, I stuck a spoon in it, and continued eating large chunks every single day while cooking dinner.  It was hate-eating at its finest.
  7. Cried during American Ninja Warrior.  This has also given me enough material for an entire post.
  8. Did zero household chores during Saturday’s naptime.  Instead, I opted to lay on the couch watching reruns of Sex and the City, and work on level 164 of Candy Crush.  People still play that, right?  I’m a little out of the loop…
  9. So far out of the loop, that I had never heard the songs “Happy” or “Fancy” until this week.  But I know all the words to “Down by the Bay” (where the watermelons grooow…Raffi 4 Lyfe)
  10. Let Miles fingerpaint with his yogurt, out of sheer appreciation for the joy on his face while doing so.  A dining room table can be replaced, but memories of coconut yogurt sunshines are irreplaceable.

Before I had Miles, I took melatonin religiously at bedtime.  After I got knocked up, I realized the label said “not for use during pregnancy”, so I quit.  I remember worrying about how well I would sleep without melatonin (surprise: pregnancy takes care of that), and that I was looking forward to the day I could take it again.  Then we had Miles, and I realized that children are melatonin for parents.  Their strength increases with age.  This isn’t a confession; merely an observation.  You don’t want to sleep like a baby; you want to sleep like the parents of the baby.

Miles will be 15 months old tomorrow, which to me feels like he’s getting his learner’s permit.  I’ll never make fun of anyone who says “boy, does time fly…” ever again.



Sunday Mom Confessions

My Sunday Mom Confessions will appear this week covered in every product in the Seventh Generation line that includes the words “anti-bacterial” in it, along with a heavy dose of Amoxicillin with Sudafed and Advil because I finally took my butt to the doctor when my magic powers and herbs didn’t seem to be cutting it.

First, let’s talk about the doctor.  I’m not opposed to medical care; in fact, proper medical care is crucial to our existence.  I follow a standard vaccine schedule with Miles.  I encourage my husband to head to the doctor for any ache and pain.  It’s getting myself to the doctor that can be tricky.  Oh sure, I go for my annual OBGYN appointment (which I have affectionately dubbed “The Boat Show”, only because I get the feeling someone is trying to park a yacht in there with all the cranking open they do) and I go for an annual physical.  But otherwise, I ignore any cold/flu/allergy/possible broken bone until it reaches the point of unbearable pain.

This is when WebMD steps in, urging me to “seek immediate medical attention.”  Again, WebMD knew my appendix was rupturing, so I trust them a lot.

WebMD gave me a list of 50+ things, even though deep down I knew it was just a sinus infection.  Saturday morning, if that’s what you can call it at 3:30am when you’ve been jarred from a seemingly peaceful sleep, I awoke to a strange feeling.  It was actually a horrible feeling; the feeling of my eyes trying to escape from their sockets.  With ice picks.  And chainsaws.  I took four Tylenol (because I’m sensible) and went back to bed.

Drawn to scale.

Drawn to scale.

The pain explosion continued forever.  No amount of Advil, Tylenol, or Excedrin would touch it.  If I looked to the left or right, the exploding eyeball feeling returned.  So I did what any mom of a toddler would do: after his nap, I sat in the recliner with Miles and we watched four episodes of “Roseanne.”  When Evan got home, I decided I should probably get this funk checked out.

I went to Urgent Care.  Ugh, the bane of my medical existence.  I absolutely loathe Urgent Care.  It’s where people like me, the lazy and preoccupied, go when their wounds begin to fester and ooze (or stab through their eyeballs).  Here I am in the waiting room, with a man who “hurt his back” on the job, but has no proof of employment; two men waiting to have drug tests, and parents of twin toddlers who are running around the waiting room like maniacs (something toddlers are completely capable of even when they’re sick).

I’m finally seen by a startlingly cute doctor (this never happens at Urgent Care) and he tells me what I already know, but he gives me the drugs…antibiotics, and choirs of angels sing hallelujah!  I’m not a big medicine fan, but I was getting desperate (also, somewhat concerned it just might be West Nile Virus).

Today, my headache is gone, thanks to stead four hour doses of Sudafed and Advil.  I can feel Big Pharma in there, clearing out the funk that has resided in my sinus cavity for the past eight (!!!) days.  Finally, getting back to normal (seriously, I didn’t even drink any wine this weekend until right now).

And so, with the funky funk packing its bags, here are my confessions of the past eight days…

  1. Miles tried his first ice cream cone.  Is 14 months too young?  I care not one iota; it was awesome to watch the face of a child who has never eaten anything that cold.  You could see the grimace of, “WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME?!” mixed with a face of “oooh, gimmegimmegimme!”  Those are my exact feelings toward ice cream, too.
  2. The light bulb in our closet has been burned out for eight days (it extinguished around the same time my plague arrived) which means I’ve been pulling articles of clothing out, holding them in the bathroom light, then throwing them on the closet floor if they aren’t what I need.  I am down to a wrinkled mess on the floor, and sweaters on hangers.
  3. I taught Miles that dusting is fun.
  4. I have stepped on macaroni noodles, lo mein noodles and spaghetti noodles in the past 48 hours.
  5. I turned a pair of sweatpants inside out just so I could wear them in public (you know, the grocery store) without anyone noticing the tomato sauce stain.
  6. Did I mention it’s been eight days since I washed my own laundry?
  7. I also let Miles snuggle with me so we could watch The Cosby Show.  I am not ashamed of our TV time while I’ve been sick; these could be some of the last “snuggly baby” memories that I get.
  8. Miles ate zero vegetables yesterday.  Not that they weren’t offered; he didn’t want them, so I gave up.  Peaches and macaroni it is.
  9. I let a perfect stranger (teenage girl) take a picture of Miles eating his first ice cream cone at dinner on Friday.  He’s cute, I totally get it.  And she did ask permission.
  10. Miles still takes a binky at bedtime (STOP JUDGING).  It’s his one vice; he could go to sleep without it, but it’s easier with it.  Over the past three days, all of his binkies have disappeared except one.  I am at a crossroads: buy more binkies, or wean from binkies?  What if he turns 30 and he still sleeps with a binky?  Well, I hope he has a very understanding wife.

Maybe those aren’t as ridiculous as they usually are after a week in the toddler zone.  It’s tough to be funny and creative when your head is trying to turn itself inside out to escape the mucus.  Truth: I feel a little guilty about the TV, and a little proud about the dusting.  But mostly I feel warm and fuzzy because I CAN FINALLY DRINK WINE AGAIN.

Even though we’ve had the funk in this house, we’ve also had a lot of arts and crafts, pillow fights, book time and snuggles in the past eight days.  Miles has also started saying simple sentences like “Mama’s big helper!” which are simultaneously making me incredibly proud and breaking my heart, because being a mom and watching your child grow up is just emotionally weird sometimes.  More on my Big Helper later, though.

It’s Sunday…10 minutes until True Blood, my last weekend vice before returning to real life.  And I need my Lafayette fix.

Hooker PLEASE,


Mom Confessions

Another installment of Mom Confessions, because I’m tired and too lazy to finish composing anything else.  Enjoy.

This week I…

  1. Ate a pepperoni pizza Lean Pocket for dinner at 9:30pm.  AND I ENJOYED IT.
  2. Wore maternity pants to work.  Skinny cords on bottom, yoga band on top…it’s the mullet of fashion choices but OHMYGOSHSOCOMFORTABLE.
  3. Started a half dozen blog posts, and have finished none.  Because when it comes to finishing a post or taking a nap…well, naps win every time.
  4. Started a sentence with, “Miles, please don’t ride the…” many, many, MANY times.  The cat is not amused, and the laundry basked is now hidden in the garage.
  5. Contemplated how much cat food a toddler can safely eat.
  6. Wondered “What’s that sticky spot?” at least three times a day.  Answer: oatmeal, yogurt, honey, jelly, crushed Cheerios, milk, peanut butter, more jelly, more yogurt, and what I believe is banana smeared with Nutella then rolled in rubber cement and applied liberally to the sliding glass door.  Just a guess.
  7. Made BLTs for dinner after a very long work day, then instantly felt mom guilt for not cooking something more nutritious, and then craved another Lean Pocket at 9:30pm.
  9. Secretly smiled when Miles got upset as I left for rehearsal on Tuesday night.  The kid misses me when I’m gone.
  10. Covered broccoli with spaghetti sauce to make it more appealing (FYI: toddlers are super smart, and are not easily fooled).  Am I the only person who loves broccoli?
  11. Set up the water table in our kitchen on a desperately stir crazy and rainy Saturday afternoon.  Bonus: THE FLOOR IS MOPPED!
  12. Found four balls, one train and a book in the refrigerator’s produce drawer.  Was not surprised.
  13. Found my car keys in the back of a toy dump truck.  Still not surprised.
  14. Found my husband’s dirty socks in the laundry basket.  Was VERY surprised.

It’s Winesday (not that we needed a reason…) which means we’re halfway to the weekend.



Additional Confession: Tried to find something funny about Hot Pockets, spent 20 minutes scrolling through Google images, and 5 minutes laughing at this.  Who knew Hot Pockets were that funny?

Additional Confession: Tried to find something funny about Hot Pockets, spent 20 minutes scrolling through Google images, and 5 minutes laughing at this. Who knew Hot Pockets were that funny?

Sunday Mom Confessions

This weekend I…

  1. Hid in the kitchen to eat Easter candy.  Twice.
  2. Let Miles play with the drawer full of (sealed) Scentsy bars in the kitchen so I could finish eating a piece of bread with peanut butter on it (moms of toddlers, you know how it is).  He promptly closed the drawer on all eight of his fingers (not his two thumbs).  And I didn’t get to finish my half a peanut butter sandwich.
  3. Also let Miles unroll an entire roll of paper towels all around the dining room, so I could finish my coffee while it was still hot.
  4. Watched my son eat food off the floor that he refused to eat while sitting in his highchair.  Does it taste better off the floor?
  5. Let the cat clean up the spilled milk in the dining room.  More than twice.
  6. Took the highchair outside and hosed it off in the driveway, instead of wiping up the mess.  Work smarter, not harder.
  7. At Rainbow Sherbet for lunch on Saturday.  At 2:30p.
  8. Did not shower for two days, and the only reason I showered today was for church (although Jesus doesn’t care if my hair has oatmeal in it, I’m sure).  There are many, may things I can accomplish in my son’s three hour nap, but showering did not make the list this weekend.

It’s been a heck of a week around here.  Sometimes, you just have to embrace the chaos…because even in the midst of “how did that get on the ceiling?” it’s still sunshine and rainbows and love and magic.  Chaos is still the best thing going.

Amid the chaos, we also taught Miles how to give kisses on the lips – he does it with a great, big, open and drooly mouth, and it is adorable.  He also learned where his nose is, and can even show it to you without picking it!  He has learned new words like: ball, thank you, yo-yo, kitty and tree (so at some point he’s going to intentionally call me mama, right?!)  And since taking his first good steps two weeks ago, he’s now practically running laps around the dining room table, with me following closely behind saying things like “Please don’t eat that!” and “YOU MUST WEAR PANTS!”

Tomorrow is Monday, which means in one more week, our best boy will be one year old.  Weekends and first years pass by much too quickly.

Enjoy each moment,