Babies

   
I babysat last week. An actual baby. I know, that's frightening right? I usually am too busy to watch my own kids let alone anyone else's kids but it just so happened it was on a day I was available and I had no real excuses to get out of it so I I thought, What the hell? This is my uncle's baby. I love it. It will be fine.

Her mama was having some dental work done so I met her downtown and she gave me the run down of what I needed to know. There was a humongous bag full of baby crap. Diapers, wipes, rattles, changing pad, a sweater, a sippy cup, and this pouch thing that had baby food in it. I thought that was pretty nifty, they didn't have baby food pouches when my kids were babies.

She was like, "I just changed her. She usually poops in the morning but she hasn't pooped yet so you might need to change her." I was like:
                                   
I looked at the baby and I was like: Why didn't you poop this morning like you always do, baby?
"You guys will be fine. Thanks so much." Then she just left me alone with the baby. I have two children of my own, I know a lot about babies but I was freaked out. I don't like being responsible for babies.

I stared at the baby, she stared at me. I stared at the baby, she stared at me. She shook her rattle a little bit and smiled. She is super cute. I decided that we would go for a walk. There is a little coffee shop in downtown Charleston that was close by so I loaded her up and off we went.

I stepped outside and there was a chill in the air. I pulled the sweater from the bag and put it on her. Babies don't help you dress them. I was trying to bend her arm to get it in the sleeve and I was struggling with it and she was just looking at me like, Haha. You really suck at this, lady.

I finally got her sweater on and off we went. The whole time I was walking she was just looking at me. I looked back at her like, What? Do I have a booger or something? I felt awkward like she wanted me to talk to her or something. That's what I did. I talked to the baby. "It's such a nice day today. Oh! We just hit a bump....." What else do you say to a baby?

We got to the coffee shop and the stroller didn't fit through the door. So I just left it outside. Bad babysitter award. I thought, Gee, I hope no one steals this stroller because I really need a cup of coffee. I took the baby out of the stroller and set her on my hip and walked into the shop.

The young girl behind the counter said, "Oh, your baby is so cute." I replied, "Thank you, but this is not my baby." I ordered a coffee and a chocolate chip muffin. Then I walked over to put some cream in my coffee. I had the baby in one arm and I thought, "How the heck am I going to do this?" I forgot what life is like doing things one-handed. Isn't there a baby shelf that you can just lay babies on while you fix your coffee?

I figured it out and went back outside. The stroller was still there. I walked across the street and found a bench to eat my muffin and drink my coffee. The baby kept reaching out for my muffin so I just started giving her some. She's almost a year old, I've seen babies younger than her eating Cheetos and drinking Hi-C so I didn't feel that bad about it. I would put a tiny piece in her hand and she would stick it in her mouth and then start laughing and then immediately reach her hand out for more. Babies are so easily amused.

I took her out of the stroller and we chased a bird for a while, then I loaded her up and we walked back. She had a wet diaper and I changed it and then I walked her around the loop outside until she went to sleep. The moment she was asleep, I felt like a boss. Babies need constant attention. It's the worst.

Her mom came out of her appointment and the baby woke up just at that moment. I kissed her good bye. Bye baby, I love you, thanks for not pooping. I walked out alone without a stroller. I was completely unencumbered. I love the baby but I was glad it was over.

I am not a mother of babies and I have not been in such a long time. My BABY, my youngest child will be nine years old in 72 days. I used to be sad that my kids are getting older and I still am a little but I'm also glad that they are not babies anymore.

Not that they get any easier. They don't. My ten year old for instance almost got adopted out today. We were in the car this afternoon on our way to her orthodontist appointment and she told me that I was wearing too much makeup. Which was not true. Then do you know what she said to me? "Just face it, mom. You're just not that pretty." She said it out of nowhere. She wasn't in a bad mood, we weren't arguing. I was like:

                                  

When she realized that she hurt my feelings she back tracked and said. "I didn't say you were ugly. I just said I don't think you are pretty. But that's just my opinion." Gee, thanks for clarifying that. I thought to myself, I think you're a beeotch, but that's just my opinion. 

Babies: because if they weren't horrible enough, just remember they eventually turn into A-holes.

The Love Expert

                                            
I have been feeling like shitty McShit lately. I think it's allergies. Sinus pressure, headaches, over-all lethargy. It's the worst. The other day I was laying in bed trying to rest in the mid afternoon and my daughter approached me. "Mom, you need to come downstairs and talk to Lily (the neighbor girl)." I looked up at her, "Why?" I didn't want to get out of bed and I needed a good reason. "It's about a boy." Lord Jesus. "Shouldn't she talk to her mom?" She shrugged, "She wants to talk to you. She thinks you'll understand."

I was curious and a little concerned. I love twelve year old Lily like my own so I went downstairs to see what the big deal is. She was sitting on my porch. "Whats up?"

She let out a deep sigh. "I like a boy and I think he likes me back but I'm not sure. How do you know a boy likes you?"
I am not an expert in this, AT ALL. "Does he talk to you?"
"Yes, we are friends. Sometimes he sits next to me at lunch. One time our arms touched and he didn't move it."
"Okay, do you ever talk to him outside of school?"
"Yeah, he gave me his phone number once and we had like, a text conversation AND he's following me on Instagram. And get this...the other day he told me that I looked pretty."
"I would say there is a strong indication that he likes you."
"But if he does like me then why doesn't he tell me he likes me?"
"I don't think that boys do that. Maybe he's afraid of rejection. Why don't you tell him?"
She shook her head violently. "No, never. That would be like....soooo embarrassing."
"So hypothetically, what would happen if he did like you?"
She shrugged, "Probably nothing. I'm not allowed to kiss boys."
"People kiss in seventh grade?"
"Yeah."
"Like, tongue kiss?"
"Ewwww, no."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. But sometimes they hug for like, five minutes straight."

I didn't know what to say. I told her that she was pretty and smart and that she should just be herself AND talk to her parents about the hugging.

She continued. "It's just that, I can't stop thinking about him. I think about him all the time and -" I interjected, "And every song that comes on the radio reminds you of him, and you can see the outline of his face in the cracks in the side walk, and you write his name in a secret notebook with hearts around it, and see him every time you close your eyes...."
She was like:

                                         
"Yes!!!!! How did you know that?" I laughed, "Because I was a twelve year old girl once. Like, a million years ago, but I was one. It's just a thing that you go through." She seemed relieved that she wasn't crazy. "So, what do I do about it? How do I make it stop?" I don't know. Marry him. haha, just kidding, I didn't say that. Take an ice cold bath, maybe? "Just wait. It just takes time I think. But make sure you keep your grades up. Don't stare at him in class when you should be paying attention in class." She hugged me. "Okay." She probably won't do that but I gave the responsible adult advice.

I was not prepared for any of that. Am I supposed to have an answer to these kinds of questions? Adolescence is so hard and confusing. It's a miracle any of us survive it.

I may have survived it but you would think that I was still stuck in that era if you knew how un-technology savvy I am. A few weeks ago my friend was talking into her cellphone and I said, "What are you doing?" She replied, "I am the worst at texting so I just use the microphone." WHAT?!?!?! Apparently, you can talk into your cellphone and it will dictate it to text. My mind was blown. That night when my husband came home I asked him if he knew about this magic. "Yes, I did. It's not new, it's been around for a while." What? No one ever told me about this. I was so excited.

I have been using my microphone constantly. It's so much better than texting. One day I was bored and I wondered if it would dictate curse words and dirty words. It did. It spelled them correctly. It made me giggle. My husband was like, "Why did you just text me: damn crap pee pee asshole?" I dictated back: "Because I am immature." I have to amuse myself some how.

Double Hell Sticks

                         
We are in homework hell sticks right now. Yes, you read that correctly. The other day I tried to spell the H word and instead of saying H-E-double hockey sticks, I said H-E-double hell sticks which completely defeated the purpose of me spelling the word in the first place. Consequently, my 10 year old now has the compulsion to yell out "Hell sticks!" randomly. Bad mom award.

Anyway, back to the homework. My children are on opposite ends of the spectrum when it comes to homework. When I ask my oldest if she completed her homework she says, "Homework? What homework?" My youngest replies, "I completed my homework, quizzed myself with additional math problems and read ahead in social studies so I will be prepared for tomorrow." Both ends of the spectrum are horrible.

Take my youngest for instance. She is so anal about her homework that she stresses me out. If she doesn't understand something she will ask for my help and then she never likes the way I do things and she flips out. She is doing a research project right now that I'm pretty sure that it is sucking the soul out of me. There has been yelling, screaming, and crying. I was called an idiot twice and she has cried approximately 4 times over the thing.
                          
All because of a research project about red pandas. Because she is researching the red panda, she feels that I should also have to know everything about the red panda too. "Mom, did you know that red pandas are grey when they are born? Mom, did you know that red pandas eat bamboo? Mom, did you know...." I can't ignore her. I have to acknowledge the red panda facts and act interested. I hate the red panda. If I ever see one I going to punch it in the face.

Dealing with my third grader is child's play compared to the ten year old. I wanted to throttle her last week. Every semester they have a reading goal to meet and they earn points for reading books. Twice a year they do double points day and double points day is this week. She was reading a 10 point book and when I inquired about her progress we had this conversation:
"Oh, I turned that book back in."
"Did you finish it?"
"No."
"WHAT?!?!?! You only had 60 pages left. You read 300 pages and you turned it back in?!?!"
"Yeah, they were making out in the book."
"Did anyone take their clothes off?"
"No."
"Well, you better re-check that book out and finish it then. You don't just give up 20 points. HELL STICKS!!!!"

She did and she got her points but there was much yelling involved. Besides the reading, she had a group science project over the past few weeks. She came home last Tuesday and said, "Our group is meeting at Starbucks tonight." It was a scheme with all the girls which she no doubt planned. She is constantly trying to get me to take her to Starbucks. I took her there and I let her buy a drink. She stood at the counter and said, "I'd like a caramel mocha frappuccino with whip, please." Diva status.

I sat at that Starbucks for two and a half hours reading a magazine while they worked on their presentation about the rainforest. I looked up to 5 girls standing around me wide-eyed. My daughter said, "Mom, Mrs. D said we could dress up for our presentation. We want to be forest rangers and have hats and vests and stuff like that. Can you do it? Pleeeeeease????"

She thinks that I can just do things which is sweet but very annoying. I agreed and said that the girls could all come over on Sunday to finish their project while I did the costumes. Sunday rolled around and we went to the store to get what they needed for their diorama and costumes. While they made their diorama I got to work on the costumes. I fashioned them each a vest from a brown paper bag, created pockets and hot glued buttons. I made them personalized name tags and wrote "Rainforest Patrol" on the back. I lined their straw hats with camo fabric that I had on hand. I even purchased some fake snakes and stuffed monkeys to complete the ensemble.

As I had each little girl try on her vest and make adjustments I realized that I am the kind of mother that I hate. How annoying and pretentious. Who is this woman who spends hours making costumes from brown paper bags and old fabric? A mom who doesn't work, that's who. A mom who needs to get a life.

Her friends left and she told me that she had the write the paper. "Why do you have to write it?" I asked. "Because I volunteered to." Never do that again, I wanted to say. I was so proud of her. She did the whole thing and only helped with the editing.

I thought I was good to go. The project was done and I didn't have to hear about it anymore. Until this morning when 20 minutes before we have to leave my daughter comes down with blue paint and declares that she has to add a stream to the diorama. "Can you help?"

                            
I was in the middle of packing lunch, there was mustard running down the stove, I was trying to put breakfast together, the 8 year old was yelling that she couldn't find her shoes and now suddenly we need to add a stream to the completed diorama that has been sitting on the counter for 3 days?

What did I do? I stopped everything and helped her take half of the diorama apart to paint the freaking stream. Screw it with making lunch. I wrote $2 checks so they could buy school lunch.

The last day of school I am going to celebrate. I am going to do the happy dance.

                              
Thirty one days of school left. Please Lord give me strength to make it.

I Guess This is Growing Up

                       
                             
This has been a rough week with my oldest daughter. What's new? She's having an I-hate-my-mom week. Not for any legitimate reason. Just because she is an adolescent and wants to. I am trying not to take it personally and just give her space. Sometimes I feel like my mere presence makes her cringe on the inside.

Last night I went into her room before bed to talk for a few minutes and tuck her in. She seemed uninterested but humored me. "All right, it's time to go to bed." She put her hand up and said, "Don't hug me." I didn't. I just stood up while she got under the covers. "Goodnight, I love you." She responded with, "Okay."

I was exhausted and crawled into bed. A short time later my husband came out of the shower and put on his pajamas and I head my daughter's footsteps into my room. "Dad, I'm going to bed now. Love you." Then she threw her arms around him and hugged him. Not a quick hug. A lingering hug.        
                               
I just closed my eyes and pretended to be sleeping. A short time later my husband crawled into bed. I turned to him:

"Why does she love you more than me?"
"She doesn't love me more than you."
"Why does she hug you and say I love you to you and not me?"
"She's just trying to become independent from you. You're her mother. Plus, I'm way cooler."
"She's ten and you are not cool at all. What did I do to deserve this?"
"Are your feelings hurt? Don't take it personally."

I do take it personally. I am not bad to her. I'm annoyed. I lost it with her piss poor attitude this morning. She was in the backseat with headphones in her ears looking out the window. I was talking to her about remembering to go over her vocab words in the morning for her test today. She sighed angrily. "Do you know what I don't understand? Why you think I can hear you talking when I have headphones in." I turned right around and replied, "You know what I don't understand? Why you act like such a beeotch." I said it and I don't feel bad about it. She laughed out loud because she knows it is the truth. She'll probably rat me out to my husband because they are BFFs now. Whatever.

I was excited to have lunch with my third grader today because that is the child that still tolerates me and pretends that she likes to have me around. I didn't know that I would be put into a very awkward situation. We had a picnic style lunch and I sat with her on a blanket with her two girl friends and two little boys. I volunteer in the class a lot so I know all the kids. They were not uncomfortable with my presence. One of the little boys is a twin and we were talking about twins. One of the little girls piped up, "My aunt is pregnant with twins!" One of the little boys leaned into the group and said, "Do you guys know what a man and a woman have to do to get a pregnancy?"

Oh my God. Why? I was not prepared to deal with this today. Before I could even interject one of the little girls said, "Yeah, my mom told me." The other one said, "It's gross." My daughter stared up at the ceiling. I was like:

         
I interjected before this conversation went any further. "Okay guys, that is a conversation to have at home with your parents. Not here at school. Now go on and eat your lunch." The little boy looked up at me and said, "Well, if I even think about it I won't even be able to eat because it is so disturbing."

This must be a thing going around 3rd grade because my daughter came home asking what sex was a few weeks ago. "What do you think it is?" She smiled, "I'm not going to say it. It's bad." I just told her straight out, "When a man and a women love each other very much...." but I left out the part that involves a baby. So basically I told my eight year old daughter that adults have recreational sex. So I had to have a second conversation. Fail. Bad Mom Award.

I need a drink after getting through this week. After dealing with my ten year old's crappy attitude and my daughter's 8 year old friends alluding to baby-making in my presence, I pretty much feel like I have lost control of my life.

I Hate Mornings

                           
I hate mornings and was having an especially hard time this morning. I kept nudging my husband and murmuring, "Hit the snooze button again." I did not want to get up. The bed felt so good. Then I realized that I shouldn't be a crap parent and should get up and make lunches and breakfast for the kids which is really an overrated and thankless task.

Things seemed like they were going okay this morning. Both the kids woke up and were getting ready to go. I was in the kitchen making sandwiches when my husband came down. He took a bowl out of the cabinet and grabbed a box of cereal. "If you wait a little bit I will make you some oatmeal with fruit and cup of coffee," I said. He stared at me for a moment while he decided if he was going to say what he was thinking.

He did, he couldn't hold it in any longer. "I'm tired of eating porridge. We are not destitute. I am not Oliver Twist. I'm not going to eat it anymore." I held up the packet. "It's not porridge, it's oatmeal. It's maple and brown sugar. I got it from Publix....." He was hating on my oatmeal and I didn't like it.

It's a good thing my grumpy kids came downstairs to annoy me at that very moment. My eight year old was FLIPPING out that she couldn't find matching socks. She was yelling that the socks she had on "felt weird" whatever the hell that means. Then she started complaining that it was 6:55 and that her sister wasn't out of the bathroom yet. I don't know what the heck she does in there every morning but she takes forever. I almost sent a search and rescue team to get her.

When she finally did come downstairs she was wearing some cotton booty shorts. Here we go again with the damn shorts. I can't escape it. I looked at her like she had three heads. "What are you wearing? You cannot go to school in those shorts." She protested, "But mom, you said I could wear them."
                       
She's half right. I said she could wear them TO BED. I swear to God if selective hearing were an Olympic sport the child would have a gold medal. "Go upstairs and get changed. You have 3 minutes." She stomped upstairs and I asked my eight year old if she had everything packed for school. She replied that she did.

My daughter came back downstairs in more appropriate shorts and I told her to grab something for breakfast. She refused. This is another battle in my house. The refusal of my kids to eat breakfast. "You need to eat SOMETHING, you don't have lunch until 12:45." Then I get attitude for insisting that she eat something. Seriously? I'm not trying to be a hole, I am looking out for your well being. I offered her porridge and she rolled her eyes at me.

We finally got out the door but not without my third grader yelling and being unreasonable about something. I don't even remember what she was flipping out about. I tried to tune her out.

We sit down in the car and we had a fight about the radio. I wanted to listen to my music but my ten year old freaked out and said, "Nineties music is crappy. They just sing about random things and stuff that doesn't exist anymore." What does that even mean?

They made me listen to that "Stay With Me" song. I hate that song. It's just not my style. If I had just experienced a breakup and was sitting in a bathtub sobbing uncontrollably then maybe I might enjoy listening to that song but I wasn't. I was driving the kids to school at 7 am. Put me to sleep with that crap.

By the time I had dropped both kids off it was 7:30 am I already felt like it had been a long day. We can't have one pleasant morning. That just wouldn't be fun, would it?

Clothing Problems

                             
We have clothing problems in my house this week. What's new? It's getting warmer which means that the battles have begun. My oldest daughter has endured the fashion gestapo all year and it's getting so much worse now that the temps are rising. We went through all of her clothes and I had her try them on to do a check. "Ok, put your hands down. They need to be fingertip length.....relax your shoulders, your shoulders should not be up to your ears. Now grab your ankles. Oh hell no, put those in the Goodwill pile." She was so annoyed with me. We are not doing short shorts EVER.

My eight year old is annoying with her shorts too. Mostly because she wants to wear the same ones EVERY DAY. She has a pair of shorts that she loves that are bright pink and orange and look like an Aztec pattern. She wore them on Monday. On Tuesday morning, she came downstairs and she was wearing the shorts again.
"You wore those shorts yesterday."
"So?"
"So they are dirty, go change them."
"They are not dirty and it's going to be hot."
"You have ten pairs of shorts, go change."
"These are my favorite, though."
A fight ensued. We went back and forth about it before I finally said, "SCREW IT! Get in the car!" She walked to the car in her dirty aztec shorts. Her standards are low. If she was wearing jean shorts than maybe you could wear them two days in a row and no one would know but it you wear hot pink and orange aztec patterned shorts consecutively people are going to take notice. Also, her shirt didn't match with her shorts. I give up. People are going think I don't care and that I support my daughter looking like a hobo.

If you know me and my children and you see them looking like a hot mess, just know that it's not because I am a neglectful asshole. Know that I gave motherly advice and guidance about it and that I am picking my battles.

It's not just the kids that are having clothes problems. I have major clothes problems. A month ago I got rid of all of my jeans. I hate how I look in jeans. I want to wear A-line skirts and dresses 24/7. Then I signed up to chaperone the fifth grade field trip. I needed jeans or shorts because it was going to be a lot of walking around outside. We sat at the dinner table earlier in the week and I was telling my husband that I needed to buy some pants. My ten year old felt the need to offer her rude opinion. "Don't get old lady jeans like you always do. Go get some jeans from Old Navy."

That is what I did. I went to Old Navy. I stood at the jean wall looking over the selection. Then I heard a voice, "Can I help you pick out some jeans?" I turned around and saw a lady with the craziest smile ever.
                                                         
She was freaky and very excited to help me pick out jeans. I was very overwhelmed by her excitement. She pulled jeans off of racks and just started handing them to me. "These are really popular rick now - the Rock Star jean. You would look great in these." I have always thought of myself as a Rock Star and this lady seemed like she knew what she was talking about so I decided to try those on. I browsed and picked up a few tee shirts and headed to the dressing room.

I stood in the dressing room and tried on my pile of jeans. I hated them all. I have a weird body. I decided on the Rock Star jeans because there were very stretchy and I could get them over my rear end. Those are my only two specifications for buying pants now. Sad. The tee shirts were cute, not form fitting and not too big. I checked out and I was mostly happy with my selections.

The day of the field trip I got dressed and went down stairs to fix breakfast. My ten year old made her way downstairs and stopped in her tracks. "Oh my God, mom. What are you doing?" She seemed distressed. "What?" I asked her. "You are wearing skinny jeans." I looked down at my jeans. "No I'm not. They are called rock star jeans. The lady at Old Navy said I should buy them." She groaned, "And a tee shirt? Are you trying to dress like me now? That is my style." WTF? Jeans and a tee shirt is EVERYONE's style but because I am always in either in a skirt of slacks my jeans and tee shirt wearing was very annoying to her.

I was upset that she was upset. "Seriously!?!? I did what you told me to do. You told me not to get grandma jeans and to go to Old Navy. That's what I did. What is the problem?" She crossed her arms and replied, "Well, I didn't think you would be trying to dress like a teenager again. You're embarrassing!"
             
What I wanted to say was that if I actually was trying to dress like a teenager again I would be wearing something way sluttier than what I had on but that is filed away with The Things My Daughters Shalt Not Ever Find Out. Instead, I rolled my eyes at her and told her to get over it. She pouted.

What have we learned here? That I obsess over my kid's shorts, that my youngest child wants to be a hobo, and that I am trying to "steal" the style of my ten year old apparently. The recipient of the Bad Mom Award has to keep up her street cred of motherly horribleness and I am sure not to disappoint in that arena.

I'm So Lazy, I'm the Worst

                                        
Easter was this weekend and I continued my streak of being the worst mom ever. I did all the things that we usually do on Easter. I decorated the house with bunnies, which brought out the Catholic guilt in me. We dyed Easter eggs and I painted bunny prints on the floor. I made the Easter baskets. They weren't my best work. I did a shit job of hiding them. I definitely did not go above and beyond this year. Bad Mom Award.

The worst thing I did as a mom this Easter is that I didn't buy my daughters Easter dresses. I just didn't. I felt no reason to. I just wasn't up for the fight. My girls don't wear dresses often and they certainly would not wear Easter dresses that I would have wanted them to. If I brought home a dress like this there would be a revolt:
                                                       
My ten year old's uniform is black tights, American Eagle sweatshirts and Converse sneakers and my eight year old's preferred style vacillates between "homeless" and "future stripper." I wasn't doing it this year. I was not spending a bunch of money of dresses that I would have to scream at my kids to wear and listen to them complain about the entire day only to be thrown in the back of the closet and never worn again. So I didn't do it. I let them wear what they wanted to church.

They wore dresses but not cute Easter dresses. I am the only lazy mother because everyone's else kids were in matching seer sucker dresses and frilly skirts. Boys were in bow ties and meticulously pressed shirts. My news feed was full of smiling families posing in front of lilies and sh*t. I am horrible and lazy. The self loathing is strong.

In other news, the kids went back to school today which was borderline painful. Sleeping in for Spring Break was the best thing that ever happened. By sleep in, I mean sleeping until 6:50 am. Not having to pack lunch was almost magical. This was me every morning of spring break when I remembered that I didn't have to pack lunches:
                 

Those good times are over now....it is back to reality. Nine more weeks of school. We have research projects due, reading goals to meet, vocab tests to ace, gymnastic competitions. I say WE because I get roped into these things. I thought I did my time. I endured 12 years of school and 5 years of college but no...when you have kids you get to start all over again. Except now it's worse because you have to finance their academic endeavors.

Please summer....get here now. I NEED you!