Injuries

Holy freaking moly, the older my kids get, the more I realize that they are tough little shits, and WAY tougher than any adult I know. I find huge bruises on my toddler that I have zero clue where they came from, most likely from running into a wall. Heck, he can run full force into a wall, whack his head so hard he see stars, and yet gets up and keeps on running like nothing even happened.

Seriously, if I hit my head I'm sitting there like, "holy freaking shit that hurt, I need to lay down I'm getting a headache."

But nope, these little warriors are fearless. My oldest is only 2.5 years old and on his 5th bloody nose. 2 bloody noses I don't even know what he did, he just walked up to me completely  happy and unaware that there is blood pouring from his nose. Who does that?!? What kind of nonsense drug is running through their unbreakable vascular system to make them so damn immune to pain.

Once you have kids, you realize that adults are absolute pansies compared to kids. Absolute pansies.

Shit that I would be in the ER for, they just walk around flaunting like little, tiny war heros.

"That scar right there? Oh, I just got that while riding my tricycle through a forest of blood hungry wolves while fighting off THREE grizzly bears at one time. No big deal."

Seriously, it kind of scares me how well they handle pain. When your kid laughs while blood is pooling out of their mouth... you just get taken back. Are they practicing pain management so they can take over all the pansy adults, and rule the world as fearless tiny humans? It wouldn't suprise me.

You see, I USED to call the doctor freaking out about little injuries. I used to worry that my kids brain would be forever changed by the fact he just whacked it full force on the concrete. But he's ridiculously smart, so I guess he can afford to lose a few brain cells.

There's no point in over protecting them, they will somehow get hurt one way or another.

(And honestly, can we all just admit we have accidentally hit our kids heads on door frames or door handles when holding them as infants? Anyone?)

One day these tiny warriors will take over, if they haven't secretly taken over already. But until then I'll just continue to find strange new cuts, bruises, bumps, and bleeding noses, and let him keep on truckin through the daily motions of life seemingly unphased.

Restaurants and Kids

There is no such thing as a "nice dinner out" when you have young kids. NO SUCH THING. Ever. Ever. Ever. Either you or your husband will have to sacrifice eating for the sake of the kids. Even if your kid has had an angel halo on all day, do not do it. It isn't worth the risk of every table within 100ft, aka the entire restaurant, judging you. Pretty much dinner out with young kids goes like this:

"May we have a booth please" This is so we can shove the toddler against a wall so he cannot escape.

"Why sure, it's an hour wait!"

What in the actual fuck do i do to keep my toddler and my baby entertained for an entire hour on some uncomfortable booth chair thing with no toys?!?! And so it begins.

The baby begins to whine. The car seat isn't moving back and forth like she so pleases.

The 2 year old thinks the wait booths are trampolines. Attempt to calmly sit him down without generating stares from strangers, obviously doesn't work.

Baby gets hungry. Feed her, burp her, and spit up projectiles onto jeans of the random man sitting next to you also waiting for a table... pretend you didn't notice, turn away quickly.

2 year old tries running full sprint out the door when people are coming inside, pretty sure I just pulled his arm out of his socket trying to stop him. Throw phone at kid with sesame street app playing in an attempt to curb all emotions about stopping him running out the door. Phones now on floor with cracked screen.

Baby gets overly stimulated by all the noises and crazy shit happening in the restaurant and begins to scream. Back arched, arms flailing, full blown screaming. Guy with spit up covered jeans and rest of people waiting look at your family out of the corner of their eyes.

All 2 year olds energy has been expelled by jumping, running, and throwing. He gets hangry. No not hungry. God damn HANGRY. This is when the blood sugar drops so low that all reasonable thoughts and emotions go out the door and the devil shows his face. The only thing that can stop that terror is food. Meltdown begins, he throws himself down on the floor while the baby melts down on your lap. Although nobody looks directly at you, you know everyone is judging you by this point. And so the hostess throws you to the front of the list to get rid of you, hurries you to the deepest darkest corner of the restaurant, and runs away quickly.

By this point my husband and I look like Frankenstein with blank stares and emotionless motions. The little sugar packets instantly attract tiny fingers like magnets. Why the hell do they put these things on the tables?! Stop it restaurants.

And... sugar packets are all over the floor. Lets pretend we didn't see that.

The chirpiest man in the world comes over, "HELLO!!! HI KIDS! What cute kids you have!"

"meh"

"What would you like to drink!? Can I offer you some fresh squeezed raspberry lemonade, which is really minute maid from the tap with some raspberries floating in it?!"

"Just get me a margarita, now." He doesn't ID me. I must be getting old.

"Any delicious appetizers that take an hour to come to your table?"

"Margarita"

As he walks off we turn to see our toddler has used those damn crayons to color the wall, the booth, the table, and seemingly none of the paper kids menu. Lets pretend we also didn't see that mess and move on.

Baby is pissed she is yet again in her car seat. As you try to calm her screams, "other kid, what do you want for dinner? Chicken nuggets, grilled cheese, mini burgers?"

"ummm... hot dog"

"Thats not on the menu, what do you want out of the choices?"

"hot dog"

"Chicken nuggets it is then!" This is going to come back and haunt me later.

Baby falls asleep. Thank god.

Chirpy waiter guy sets margarita on table. He now has an angelic glow about him. I like you mister waiter sir. I really, really like you. "What would you like off of our delicious menu!?"

"Food that I probably wont even get to taste"

"Oh that sounds fantastic! Coming right up! It seems you've already finished your margarita, would you like another?!"

Why is this guy even asking?

2 year old stands up and shoves fork into the head of the person in the booth behind us. Turns out to be spit up covered jeans guy. This guys going to snap soon, I just know it.

Food comes out looking absolutely delicious. "Wheres the hot dog?" proclaims the toddler. Spend 5 minutes convincing him that hot dogs have changed shape to look like chicken nuggets. It works. Spend 5 minutes cutting up kids food. He decides it isn't acceptable and wants it cut in a different shape. Spend 5 more minutes cutting up food into the shape of Mona Lisa. The food is still too hot. I've decided by this point that all restaurants make kids meals 5000 degrees Fahrenheit just in spite of you bringing kids there. Spend 5 more minutes losing all stores of oxygen from blowing on volcanic lava hot food. Hes happy.

Pick up fork.

"Mommy, I gotta go potty"

Put down fork.

Spend 10 minutes standing in a stall while toddler on toilet reminisces on the entire days events. Kid finally goes after much persuasion. Keep head down while walking back to table. No eye contact with the public. They all hate you already.

Pick up fork.

Baby wakes up hungry.

Put down fork.

Feed baby

Pick up fork.

Baby poops.

Put down fork.

Take baby to restroom to change on the never cleaned changing table. She smiles at you. She knows what she is doing, shes smarter than she seems. Second walk of shame with eyes on floor.

Pick up fork

Take a bite of cold food. Decide margaritas are going to be your only source of nutrients for dinner. Ask for one more and the bill.

Chirpy McChirperson thinks something is wrong with your food since you didn't eat it, "what is wrong with your food?! I can do anything to make it better!" But you can't exactly judge cold spaghetti. Put it in a to go box for breakfast tomorrow. Suck down last few drops of margarita.

Stand up from booth and realize that the entire floor is a massacre of chicken nuggets, smushed french fries, spit up and sugar packets. Tip Chirpy McChirperson $20 out of guilt. Pretend you didn't notice, grab kids and all the luggage, and do walk of shame out of the restaurant. Spit up covered jeans guy mean mugs you on the way out. Sorry mister.

And then as you get to the car you realize you just paid shit tons of money to go through the depths of hell and back. You thus vow to never, ever go eat at a restaurant again. Until in about 1 month you will forget how terrible this experience was and repeat it all over again. Oh well, at least I have breakfast for tomorrow and I didn't have to make my own margaritas. I guess it wasn't all too bad.

An hour in my life with a 2 year old

My toddler decided to come to our room to sleep at around 1am and refused to go back to our bed (dont even start with me, I was too tired to fight it). This is all fine and dandy but the kid has ZERO ability to sleep next to people. I'm pretty sure this was the schedule he had written down:

1:00-1:30am shove tiny fingers as far up mom's nose as possible

1:30-2:00am time to get super close to people's faces, squish their cheeks and giggle at their funny looking expression. (My husband somehow slept through him doing this to him)

2:00-2:30am Kickboxing time. Focus on the head and dad's balls. 

2:30-3:00am time to roll back and forth with enough force for mom to fall out of bed

3:00am-3:30am spend 30 minutes crying with mommy since we're both so god damn exhausted.

3:30am fall asleep perfectly just in time as the 3 month old is waking up.

And now at 7 am I've found I've been laying on megablocks all night long. 

I feel like I live with a tiny cute life sucker some days. They do things that literally make you think you're crazy and ask the doctor for some Xanax, but then come back around and do the cutest thing ever so you decide to keep them instead of leaving them at the grocery store. It is hard to describe this to people who don't have kids around the age of 2. So, in an attempt to show you I'm really not crazy,  I recorded everything a two year old says and does over the course of 1 hour to show you the highs and lows of a seemingly bipolar tiny human. Enjoy this peek into my life! 

7:31: wakes up, looks at me, starts immediately laughing. I'm guessing he's laughing at the fact he won at being an asshole last night.

7:32: immediately becomes cute again as he points to all the parts of my face. "Chin... nose... cheeks... eyes..." aww. Stop being such a smarty pants <3

7:34: puts feet on my chest and starts kicking "wake up mommy, wake up now!" Okay you're no longer cute.

7:45: me, "what do you want for breakfast? Do you want cereal?"

"No, I don't like cereal, I want food"

"What kind of food do you want?"

"Ummm... cereal"

7:46: Screams as I grab a bowl, "No, I don't like the green bowl, I like the blue bowl" 

7:50: sings while eating cereal in blue bowl, "shoulders and toes and toes, shoulders and toes and toes (to the tune of head shoulders knees and toes)." How flipping cute is that? 

7:55-8:10am: goes to his room and has been silent for a good 10 minutes. Starting to get worried, but I have shit to do so I'll clean up the silently made mess later.

8:10 - comes downstairs singing the wheels on the bus. Awww he only knows one sentence

8:20 - still singing the same sentence as 10 minutes ago

8:25 - andddd... that's stuck in my head the rest of the day

8:30 - go upstairs, the mattress is flipped off of his his bed, sheets everywhere

8:35 - I was literally just putting the mattress and comforter back on his bed. Wtf? 

8:36 - As I'm cleaning this mess, he's bowling with his spiderman bowling set yelling, "good job buddy!" to himself. I love him so much <3

8:37 - "mommy, you make coffee? Mommy can I have coffee?"

"No"

8:38 - "mommy I want coffee, I want coffee, please mommy let me have coffee, please mommy, come on! Come on mommy!"

"No"

8:39 - gets distracted by dog running in circles, runs in circles too.

8:40 - "mommy, you like your coffee?" 

Yes, yes I do. 

And during all this I'm feeding, changing, burping, bathing, and holding a 3 month old. By 8:41am I am exhausted. All those messes and repetitive motions, all those things that make you cringe trying not to snap, but they keep on doing the cute stuff. The super freaking cute stuff that keeps you going throughout the day (along with the promise of wine at bed time). So I guess in reality, now matter how much they can throw at you, as long as they keep doing the cute stuff, and my husband keeps a steady supply of wine, life will be A-OK.

Oh sleep, how I miss you. But...

It's sad when the only thing you will ask for this mothers day, birthday, and christmas is a nap. Heck, I just want to sleep for 12 uninterrupted hours. How blissful does that sound? Unfortunately I doubt that will ever happen again, well, at least for the next 18 years.

Nights like last night seem like the entire family is against you sleeping.

The dog had an upset stomach from the dinner our son handed her, so she went out every. single. hour.

My 3 month old decided to be on a growth spurt and woke up every 2 hours, compared to her usual every 6 hours.

My darling, dearest husband was restless and him moving around woke me up I can't even count how often.

When it was morning enough for me to leave the dog outside for a couple hours, finally got the baby to sleep, husband had just gone to work, I laid my head on my pillow to the pitter patter of feet running down the hallway.

"Hi mommy!," the toddler yelled as the door slams open. The baby in the bassinet jumps awake in tears.

And I need coffee.

Do you remember when you used to sleep till noon? Take naps whenever you wanted to, lay in bed and fiddle around watching netflix till dinner time, then get up and go hang out with your friends till 3am?

Yeah... me neither.

It's funny though. I wouldn't trade this for the world. Although I'm reluctantly waiting for this coffee to kick in, I realize I don't mind seeing the sun rise. I don't mind, because I get snuggles at every hour of the night. The restless man next to me can interrupt my sleep all he wants, because it means he is home safe and sound instead of deployed or training. I have tons of love in my life, and a plethora of gummy morning smiles while I drink my coffee. Even the dog with the tummy issues is wagging her tail greeting me when I get out of bed to help her outside. And at least she didn't go in the house.

Sleep sounds good, but my life right now is better.

P.s. I still want a nap for mothers day

What won't they do?!

I'm pretty sure 99% of mom's with toddlers have called poison control at least once, if you havent... you most likely will. And it is so shameful.

"Poison control how can I help you?"

"Well, um, my kid just ate my entire stick of deodorant..."

"Ma'am, I just want to make sure I heard you correctly,  can you speak up?"

"Yeah my kid at an entire stick of deodorant." I'm pretty sure my neighbors across the street just heard me say that.

"Ma'am, did you just say your kid ate an entire stick of deodorant?"

Well now the entire call center knows what happened too, somebody is going to call CPS I'm sure of it.

"yes that is correct, he ate an entire stick of deodorant."

"Well ma'am, here's instructions, now I need to ask why the deodorant wasn't locked away where your kid couldn't get to it?"

Because I didn't think my 2 year old was dumb enough to eat an entire stick of god damn deodorant.

"I forgot to, um, put it back in the 8 combination triple sealed bulletproof bank grade safe with all the rest of the deodorant."

"Well, ma'am, you need to stop being such a terrible parent." (okay they don't really say this, but its assumed)

I bet they hear some strange stories at poison control. Heck, even I called last year (I have called 3 times total, I'm terrible) because my then 18 month old ate spackle. Yes, the stuff you fix dry walls with. Not out of a jar that we accidentally left out. No. Off the wall.  We fixed a patch of dry wall about his height and the kid straight licked it off when we weren't looking. It was that moment right there that I realized I have too much faith in my kid.

I have definitely learned over the years that kids will eat and lick absolutely anything and everything. You cannot be a germaphobe with kids, they don't care like you do. They have zero remorse, and I'm pretty sure they enjoy making you squeam as you watch them lick:

- A baby chicken covered in salmonella at the zoo.

- The grocery cart handle during peak cold & flu season

- Toilet seats at the mall 

- The poor dog

- Every chair and door handle in the sick child waiting room at the doctors office

- The walls of Chuckie Cheese's play area right after 5 birthday parties came through

- A slice of cheese they hid under their beds 4 months ago

- The sippy cup of milk you forgot to move from the couch last night

Nothing is off limits to a kid and his mouth. The tasting options are endless, and they will go far and wide to taste every germ filled inch of this Earth.  In the mean time, you will find yourself throwing up in your mouth quite a bit. I've learned to accept this.

And in reality, their nasty habits are not confined to their mouths. We got our dog at 3 months old when my son was around 1 and a half. She was not yet potty trained. Day 2 of her being home I ran to the bathroom nearly dying of early pregnancy morning sickness. Crawled out of the bathroom minutes later to find my son and puppy in the kitchen rolling around together in the most ginormous puddle of puppy pee you will ever see. It was like my kid was at the Disney, totally squealing with excitement. My mouth dropped and I just stared. It was one of those moments where you can't even speak, you can't even fathom what you're witnessing, and you stop dead in your tracks. I have unfortunately had plenty of these moments since having kids.

Looking back now, when my first was born I couldn't imagine not slathering him up in hand sanitizer every time someone came within 10 feet of him. I sanitized his bottles and binkies, cloroxed the nursery daily, washed his clothes in extra hot water. Now I just giggle at how naive I was, and grin at other new moms doing the same thing. You have no idea what is in store for you. No idea. 

Preparing for War

After 3 years and 2 kids, I've come to realize that being a mom is no damn joke. Things happen daily that just make you stop and reevaluate your decision to have the little terrorists in the first place, what was I thinking? There is no such thing as being 'ready to be a parent,' heck that's like saying, "I was ready to dive head first into a lions den with steak strapped around my waste." No. Just no. All the baby books in the world cannot prepare you for the amount of crap a baby can get from its toes up into its hair, all over your clothes, and onto the floor, while standing in line at American Eagle. Or how the walls of all grocery stores perfectly echo the screams of a blatantly overreacting toddler flailing mindlessly around the seat of the cart... while absolutely. everybody. stares. No one tell you that no matter how much you clean, there will always be this weird sticky feeling to random things in your house from your kids, and it will only remain clean until the moment the toddler steps out of his room after a nap. No baby book ever addressed how much a baby can spit up in a public place (it's a shit ton.) And spit up makes the loudest splat as it hits the floor in the grocery store. Run away quickly before anyone notices or slips in it. As you are reading those baby books you will never envision yourself thoroughly examining a kids poop (why is it blue?!) or picking their nose for them (that booger has got to go!) And cheering somebody on to go poop in a toilet is just not in your life game plan, but it happens daily right now. Read all the baby books in the world. Research all you want. You will never be prepared for what life as a parent has in store. However, there is something far worse than all this that you will not be prepared for... from the moment you get pregnant you join a silent war raging against each and every mother. Parents-to-be, put your war face on and keep it on till your kids move out! No matter what you feed your child, no matter how much or how little you care about your kids health, wherever your child goes to school, no matter what you do with your child... there is always some mom doing god damn google research who is ready to shove her google degree opinion down your throat till you choke on it and accept defeat. Or cry. Whichever comes first. This kind of reminds you of high school, but while you're getting bullied by google degree mom, you're covered in spit up and snacking on leftover goldfish crackers thrown all over the couch cushion next to you. Life is strange now, but I like it.