Craptastic

The last week or two has been far from glamorous over here. Both of my main girls are having some serious booty issues. If you follow the blog you know that Em is no stranger to the enema and being “clogged up”. I’ve been fighting that fight since she was a just a small nugget. It’s gotten a lot better as she’s gotten bigger and been eating solid foods but she still has her days. While we were at the beach with the family over the 4th, well one of those days happened to REAR its ugly head.  (see what I did there?)

It probably had to do with the fact that she was being fed any and everything she wanted.

“Oh you want cake at 8pm?” Suuuuure!

“Ice cream cone?” No problemo!

Pop corn. every.single.night.

I mean I would’ve been messed up from that. But vacation is meant to overindulge and eat junk food so I wasn’t really thinking when we were all letting the tiny trash can inhale the crap outta that crap, well until she couldn’t crap that is.

After a couple of days of being clogged up and some hardcore crying we got the issue under control. Well, at least I thought so. When I got home from the beach she started walking around the house squatting and saying “Poo Poo OOWWWW”. Since we are trying to potty train I knew this wasn’t good for the game. I made an appointment with the pediatrician and high-tailed it in.

The Doctor told me that I needed to start making it super “easy” for her and consequently AWFUL for me. I now have to give Emmie Miralax in her milk 4 days a week. Yep, I know what you’re thinking and you are right. She is shitting like a maniac now. It’s the opposite issue than before. Ummmm, I sort of preferred the old version. But, if it makes my girl feel better I GUESS I can deal with the 8 effing diapers of crap I have to change a day.

Meanwhile, Ginger decided she wanted in on the fun. I mentioned before we left that she was having a grand old-time in the basement. Turns out she had an even better time at Yaya’s house while she spent that week there. (Sorry mom.)  When I came to pick her up my mom had a steam cleaner sitting there waiting to clean all the shit spots that my fluff nugget had graced her carpet with. And just so I wouldn’t be left out she went ahead and continued the act when she got home. So there’s that.

So on the same day I took Em to the Pediatrician for her constipation issues, I decided to take Ging to the vet for her “crapping all over the house” issues. The vet gave me two special medications to help with her poops (Oh Goody! Giving pills to Ginger is sooooo much fun!) and two different kinds of special food that costs more than a dinner at Morton’s. She’s lucky she’s cute.

Life around here has been like a fairytale… I wake up, shove pills down Ginger’s throat so that she doesn’t crap all over the house, chase her around so she doesn’t hack them up. Then I go make her special food that smells like ACTUAL SHIT! And as soon as Emmie gets up I mix Miralax into her milk sippy cup. But I have to do this covertly because I made the mistake of telling Bobby about how it was “going to help her go poop” in front of her and now if she sees me put it in she wont drink it. She says “No! It’s Poo Poo.” It’s really not that easy to outsmart a toddler, trust me. They are like tiny ninjas. Then I spend the rest of the day changing 10 bazillion diapers. See … Freaking Cinderella in the flesh.

Being a mom… is a shitload of work.

 

 

 

Backtracking

Around here we sort of live by the mantra “Two steps forward and TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTY-FIVE STEPS BACK”.

Yep, I know you mammas out there are nodding in agreement. Well, a little while back I had written a post about how I put Ginger on Prozac for her inability to use the effing litter box. Apparently Emerson’s mere presence in this house sent Ging into a state of panic and she started pissing all over the place. Only after she ruined the carpet and the beautiful new hardwood floors did I find the amazing little miracle pill known as Prozac. She was on it for a couple of months and like magic she was back to normal. Well, normal for her, but she wasn’t having anymore accidents – so I talked to the vet and she said I could take her off of the dope. I guess it had worked its way into her system and served its purpose to level her out. I was pretty excited about it because I didn’t really love the idea of Ging being on meds all the time anyway. And I’m not sure if any of you have ever had to give a cat a pill EVERY.DAY. But there are about 30 other things I would rather do and one of them includes cleaning said litter box.

So I went ahead and took Ginger off of the Prozac and everything was fine … until about two months ago. When her new thing became pissing outside of her litter box. Like literally one step away from the door. At first I thought she was doing it if the litter box was dirty but no, she does it when the damn thing is completely clean. She legit pisses outside the thing that she is supposed to be pissing INTO. I tried to be calm about this and so I thought I would lay puppy pads down and this would help with the clean up. Well it does help make it easier for me to clean up. But it also makes it nice and convenient for Miss Pissy Pad to pee. And NOW to add insult to injury she has started shitting in the basement. Like the cat is refusing to use her effing litter box entirely. So enough is enough, its back on Prozac she goes.

Apparently Ginger has the same effect on Emmie as Emmie has on Ginger in the potty department. We are slowly and steadily introducing the potty to Emmie but every time Ging walks into the bathroom Emmie loses her shit (like literally) and cant focus. She will stand up mid-pee and start chasing Ginger around. It’s suuuuper fun! I seriously give up with these two.

For that reason, I haven’t really gone gung-hoe about potty training yet but we have the pull-ups and I’ll ask her if she needs to go or in most cases if she already went. We have had some super exciting pee in the potty moments. We cheered, we high-fived, we waved bye-bye to the pee pee as we flushed it. It was all very exciting. And then the very next day I asked her if she had to go potty she said “no”, straight up looked me in the eyes and said N-O and 2.5 nanoseconds later she started pissing all over the floor.

How you gonna play me like that Em?

I’m just a mom sitting in a house with two plastic contraptions used to collect piss and shit… and no one will use them. What the hell am I supposed to do?

The way I see it Ging is just going to have stay on Prozac until Emmie goes to college and Emmie …

well, she is going to have figure this whole potty training thing out before she leaves.

 

I Swear

It’s no secret that I like to cuss. The F word is one of my favorites. I’m one of those moms that the other moms get nervous bringing their kids around. You just never know what’s gonna pop outta this mouth of mine. Now before you go judging me, I DO watch my mouth around Emmie (as best as I can). For the last few months my mom has been warning me that I need to curb it in the swearing department now that Emmie is starting to talk more.  She said that “before you know it she’s gonna start repeating you and you’re going to be sorry.” Well I’m not stupid. That’s the last thing I want. So I’ve really made a conscious effort to stop, and personally think I’ve been doing a great job. My new thing is to spell them out. Like when I stepped on her toy mermaid doll with the fin that felt like a shard of glass – “Oh son of a B-I-T-C-H. That hurt mommy like H-E-L-L.” It goes a little like that.

Now just for the record this blog is my safe place. I may be monitoring my mouth in all aspects of my life but I will not tone it down here. This is my outlet. I cannot live in a world where I have to completely eliminate cussing. I’m certain I will die.

So the other day as I  was driving with Emmie in the car (I may or may not have been going exactly the speed limit.) I choose not to incriminate myself on a public forum… But I passed a police officer and before I even could think about it, I yelled “SHIT!” Then just as I turned back to see if Emmie had heard, she started to purse her lips and make a shhhhhh sound. In a panic I starting to sing a hearty chorus of “the wheels on the bus” faster than you can say Bubble Guppies.

Now, I dodged that bullet but I’m fairly certain the next time will be a direct hit. I need to stop this shit NOW! See what I did there?!?

This kid is a freaking sponge and she will repeat any and everything. An example of this is when she came up to me and grabbed my chest the other day and said “boooooobies”. She got this lovely habit from her oh so romantic father. Who loves to welcome me from his long day of work by grabbing me with that sweet gesture. I’m telling you, it’s like living in a scene from the Notebook around here. Jealous?

So in an effort to keep Emmie out of juvie, we are buckling down on the swearing and inappropriate perverted behavior altogether. It’s gonna be like a damn Amish paradise in this place. And I swear to effing God if I hear ONE cuss word come out of her mouth…

I’m blaming her father.

Take Your Seat

Well we survived our trip to Florida. Of course it didn’t go as smoothly as people had said it would but it also didn’t go as “abort-mission, momma needs a Xanax” as I had anticipated.

After calling and booking the flight months ago, at which time I made sure that every thing was taken care of, I got a phone call a month ago from American Airlines informing me that they had merged with US airways and my seats would be different. I told them that I was traveling with a small child and needed to make sure that my husband, daughter and I were all together. I also asked if she would make sure to put my mom & dad’s seats near us. You know that way we know the people we’re pissing off. Everything was taken care of and we were good to go… Or so I thought!

We got to the airport and found that they had me sitting in one row (middle seat), Bobby in a totally different row (middle seat) and Emerson in yet another row by herself (middle seat). Since we had purchased a ticket for her and she was in the car seat she had to have a window seat. Annnnnnd just like that my stress level started climbing.

I politely asked the lady at the ticket counter to change the seats, since clearly that shit wasn’t gonna fly (see what I did there?). She told me I had to wait till I got to the gate and ask the agent there to do it. Okaaaaay, whatevs. Since we were anticipating shit like this we were like 78 hours early for our flight and no one is at our gate yet. I walked over to the nearest gate and POLITELY asked an agent there to help me and I was told, in a not so friendly way that “There are not 3 seats together available on that flight. But there are 2 seats in priority but it’s $50 per seat to change the tickets.” So wait, I have to pay for your mistake?! No thanks. Who else can help me? They directed me to Customer Service where I explained the situation again very POLITELY and again the agent was super rude. I was told the same thing and that “There ain’t nothing I can do right now. You have to talk to the agent at your gate.” So we waited and waited and the minute our gate agent arrived I walked up and started to explain everything. As I was in the middle of talking she cut me off and said “give me your tickets” without even looking at me. I handed her my tickets and she told me the same thing I had heard three times before but this time I was angry. “I realize there are not three seats available but listen, I booked three together so you need to find me some. I have a child and she cannot sit by herself and by law she cannot sit in a middle seat.” She’s didn’t really like that version of me either and snapped back that she would “see what she could do.”

We sat at the gate waiting while Bitchy McBitcherson helped other customers. She finally called me up and said she had gotten two seats together (at the back of the plane) as I was asking about the last ticket she said “MAAM IM STILL WORKING ON IT!” We were getting ready to board so I was losing my patience. I said well I’m sure if you announce over the intercom to whoever is sitting there that you would like them to switch for a family member traveling with a child they will do it. I mean one look at Em when they sit down and they are gonna be begging for a new seat. But because she was such a doll, she refused to do it.

With a few minutes to spare before we boarded she waved me over and handed me the other ticket in the same row. Without speaking any words. I thanked her for her help to which she just turned her head. In short she was a reaaaaaaal peach.

But praise the LAWWWWWD we had seats.

The flight was actually pretty uneventful. Em was an angel and the flight attendants were lovely. My sister’s wedding was amazing and Emmie just went with the flow of everything. She stayed up late and was the perfect little beach baby. The flight home wasn’t nearly as traumatic.

All and all it went pretty damn amazing.

Once we found a damn seat.

  

Airborne

Next weekend my beautiful sister is getting married to an amazing man in Florida. I am thrilled, ecstatic, over-the-moon. I couldn’t be happier for her and their beautiful new life they are about to start together. I am super pumped to get down there and start this damn celebration already. But, PUMP.THE.BREAKS. One tiny, toddlin’, sticky finger, screaming on the plane little detail that juuuuuuusssssssst might cause me to lose my SHIT before I get there is we have to actually GET THERE!

I have googled every single tip and article on traveling with a toddler that has ever been published (reliable source or not), I have reached out to friends on Facebook who have done this dance before and asked for pointers, I have even asked my pediatrician what he thinks I should do and if the use of Benadryl recreationally is frowned upon…. no seriously I did. He pretended not to hear me. Whatevs Doc, I’m sure you do it with your kids every now and again.

Don’t get me wrong Em is a good kid but she is not the sit still for 2 hours type. She is the sit for .03 seconds and then get up and run around for 2 hours type. So the way I see it I have two options. A.) Pay the airline to let me bring like 5 bags on the plane packed with a gazillion things to keep her occupied or B.) pay all the other people on the plane for the inconvenience of Earthquake Emmie. Either way its gonna cost ole’ Bobaroni.

The silver lining of this anxiety laced cloud is that BOTH grandmas will be on the flight with Bobby and I  (Grandpa’s too, of course). I have already told Bobby that he will be sitting next to my dad and Yaya will be taking his seat. He didn’t object (strange huh?). Maybe because he’s well aware of the cluster EFF that is about to ensue. You see, to add insult to injury, I already don’t do well flying, like need meds and squeeze the person’s hand next to me to the point of breaking it during takeoff and landing. So this ought to be a real treat for the passengers of  American Airlines.

But after a lot of thought and sleepless nights, I think I came up with a  pretty solid plan to get both Emmie and I through it in one piece.

YAYA!

Mother of the Year

On a given day there are probably hundreds of things I could do better as a mom. I have never claimed to be a perfect mother and I know I never will be.

Here are just a few of the things that I did wrong last week:

1.) I replied “a duck” every single time Emmie asked “whats that?” throughout the day. And since it’s her new favorite phrase, it was about three thousand times.

2.) I fed Emmie Lucky Charms for breakfast because I was too tired to make anything else. And then I was annoyed that she wouldn’t take a nap later on… hmmmm! wonder why?

3.) I asked Bobby if he would put Emmie to bed because I needed to finish cleaning the kitchen and then I sat on the couch and watched Teen Mom instead of cleaning.

4.) I handed Emmie the iPad, pulled up “Wheels on the Bus” on YouTube and propped her up on her bean bag chair in my office so that I could get my work emails out.

5.) I watched her unroll the toilet paper and then walked out of the room because I knew Bobby was the one putting her to bed and would have to clean it up. #notmyproblem.

6.) I told Emmie my dinner was “Caca” so I wouldn’t have to share it. And she believed me.

7.) I purposely showed up 10 minutes late to Em’s Little Gym class the other day so I wouldn’t have to worry about wrangling her during the organized group activity while all the other mommies stare at me and my disobedient child.

8.) I didn’t give Emmie her bedtime bath the other night because Grey’s had already started and I knew I didn’t have enough time for the entire bath/bed routine. Greys > Hygiene

9.) I played hide and seek with Em and just kept telling her to hide so momma could come find her. When really I was just enjoying the 30 second intervals between her running away and coming back. It was like little bits of relaxation.

10.) I made Emmie wear these new sandals last weekend because they went perfectly with her outfit and the whole time we were out she kept saying “Boo Boo”. Then at the end of the day when I took them off she had a huge blister on her foot. WHOOPS!

Sitting here thinking about all of these things I started to beat myself up over them. Then I told myself that I am doing the best I can and that’s all I can do. I’m pretty sure Emmie doesn’t notice any of these. But what she does notice is that I am always there and that I love her endlessly. I would go to the end of the earth for her and I think that is what being a mother truly is about. Putting someone else before yourself. Like any good mom I have good days and I have bad days. But the bad days do not define me as a mother. I think that is an important lesson for all of the mommas out there. We are allowed to be human and feed them the Lucky Charms every once in a while. Because when it comes down to it, our kids know we love them and would move mountains and (sugar covered) rainbows to make them happy.

So hang in there Mommas. Being a mom is the hardest job on earth, we are more than entitled to some perfectly imperfect days. Happy Mother’s Day to all of you!

Potty Mouth

I’ve been going back and forth on when I  was going to start the whole potty training process with Em. I’ve done seem research and it seems like no one really knows when the eff to start. Some say 18 months, some say wait till their 2 and some say you’ll know when their ready. So i pretty much took all that as a sign that when Em was ready she would somehow let me know.

And she did. Boy did she ever.

About a week or so ago, as I was cooking dinner and Emmie was playing in the family room. I forgot that I left my phone on the coffee table and I didn’t notice that she had snatched it up. Before I knew it I heard the hall bathroom door open and her tiny little voice say “PEEEEE PEEEE” and then the plunk! of my phone sinking into the toilet. I screamed and went running into the bathroom and pulled it out within a nanosecond. I took it out of its case and tried drying it off. I went ahead and called my mom as a test call and much to my dismay I was only able to talk on speakerphone. Yaya is loud enough, aint nobody want us on speakerphone 24/7 trust me! Thankfully by the next morning it miraculously started working again and it’s perfectly fine… for now! But we went ahead and bought the latches for the toilets just in case.

The next time that Emmie proved to me she was probably ready to start this whole potty process was when we were out at Target the other day. I brought Em into the bathroom stall with me so I could go to the bathroom. After she was done trying to strip me naked, she decided that embarrassing me seemed like the next best thing. All I will say is just a heads up to anyone who doesn’t yet have a toddler… you will never be able to get away with making any bodily sounds in a public restroom without your child calling you out on that SHIZ! NEVER.

Here’s how it went:

(“Noise”)

Emmie – “WHAT’S THAT?” “WHAT WAS THAT? “WHAT WAS THAT? MOMMA, WHAT WAS THAT?

Lady in the bathroom – (dying of laughter)

Me – Emmie, SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

So I’ve decided that since Emmie seems to be soooooo interested in the potty these days I might as well give this shit a shot. I mean how hard can it be…

Even Ginger can do it!

A Year of Love.

Today is the one year anniversary of the blog. I can’t believe how fast it all went by. We’ve been thru a lot together on this blogging journey … baby-proofing, knob sucking, teething, birthday parties that I spent my child’s college fund on (then vomited through), plane rides from hell, first-words and first-steps, enemas … lots and lots of enemas, Ginger’s bladder issues, the loss of loved ones, and who could forget the infamous kidnapping scare.

I am thankful to each of you for being a part of our lives and sharing in this journey. I have enjoyed every minute of it. The laughs the tears, it has been such a joy to be able to share my thoughts with you all. I know I am terrible about consistently posting but I promise I will try to get better about posting more often. So this year my goal is a post a week. I also think Bobby has gotten off pretty damn easy, so my other goal is to rag on him more include him more often. 😉 Shhh… don’t tell him (he still has those hospital pictures.)

We love you all and are looking forward to keeping you entertained for months to come.

Spoiler Alert: We are traveling to Florida in a month with Emmie so that oughta be a level 5 shit show. Stay Tuned!

Emmie the Easter Bunny

This past weekend was Easter and we had an awesome time celebrating with family. We did it up big. Since it was the first official Easter that Em was not a blob it was super fun. My mom planned an Easter egg hunt and girlfriend got really into it. I mean Emmie not my mom, but my mom was pretty into it too. Em was squatting and lunging and sprinting. It was on a whole ‘nother level of adorable.

My sister was home to try on her freaking gorgeous size 2 (gag!) wedding dress so that was just the icing on the Auntie cake. After the Easter egg hunt we went and saw my bad ass dad’s band play at the local brewery. Where Em laid it down with some preeeeeeeeetty serious dance moves. All and all it was a solid Saturday.

The week leading up to Easter however was a lot less tulips and sunshine and lot more thorns and thunderstorms. It started on Tuesday night as I was cooking dinner. Bobby walked in from work and Em was taking her (late) afternoon nap. She was just getting up so Bobby went up and got her. She was really fussy when he brought her down but I just figured she was still tired. After a few minutes of her screaming and wailing and wanting me to hold her. I started to wonder what the EFF was up. I thought maybe she was possessed by the devil hurt and had gotten her leg caught in her crib or something. I tried to check her but she was screaming at the top of her lungs the moment I laid her down. Her face started breaking out in hives she was screaming so loud. I had no idea what had just happened. One minute she was sleeping and the next she was a demon child, inconsolable. I did notice she had her finger in her mouth so we tried to look and see what she was picking at. Then we saw something in the back of her mouth by her back right molar. It looked like a piece of food was stuck. So I grabbed her toothbrush and tried to get it out. Well that just angered the tiny beast.

So I did what any good mom would do… I called Yaya!

She said that we may need to take her to the pediatrician and if they weren’t open the Urgent care. UGH!!!! I was kinda hoping Yaya would make a house call. But we loaded up the car and set off down the road. I called the pediatrician first and they said to bring her in. Thank goodness for late office hours.

Once we got her in there she was a perfect angel. Sitting quietly and making a mockery out of me and the manic phone call I just made. When we got her back the doctor looked at her teeth and determined that she would need to go to a pediatric dentist the next day. She thought she probably had something stuck up there but she didn’t have the right tools for the job. We took Em home, gave her some ibprophen to help with pain and put her to bed. The next day I got her in to my friends dental office. They were amazing with her. She hardly even noticed that they were poking at her tooth and then the whole thing was over in seconds.

Sidenote –  if any of you live in the Loudon County area and have little ones, check out Little Smiles in Brambleton. They are wonderful.

Well, while the awesome dentist was looking at Em’s adorable smile she pointed out something I had not been focusing on. I was standing there panicking about the invisible object “stuck” in her tooth. Also, known as her “tooth coming in” she pointed out that Em was sporting a pretty giant gap in between her two front teeth. She asked if anyone on mine or Bobby’s side of the family had large gaps. “NO!” I replied.  Well she told me that “Emmie has a large amount of excess gum in between her two front teeth and will likely need to have it lasered out.” UMMMM! How on earth did I not notice that? I stare at this child daily. When I walked in I was scared of them squirting air in her mouth, now you’re telling me that she’s going to need to have her gums lasered someday?!? Where’s the Valium?

And then she pulled Em’s little lip up and showed me the cutest little buck-toothed smile I have ever seen.

I know that eventually I will have to grow a pair and do something about it. But for now she is perfect. She is beautiful. Those tiny-two teeth are just the way they are supposed to be. And I love them.

And as an added bonus they were perfectly festive for the weekend … the Easter Bunny, aint got nothin’ on this kid!

Ya-hamas

“Last week I returned from a beautiful trip to the Bahamas. This trip was of the adult-only variety so I dropped Em off at her Yaya and Poppa’s so that I could enjoy a baby-free Bahamian vacation. It’s an annual trip we take with my amazing husband’s family and last year Em was too young to notice I was ditching her. The guilt was there on my side but she was at the “blob” stage in her life so she didn’t realize what the eff was going on when I walked out the door saying “sayonara suuuucka” “mommy will miss you sweet girl”.

This year seemed like it might hurt more since she was going to be aware of the abandonment and all. I of course, was waiting for the tears and screaming as I said goodbye and started to leave. You know, since I can’t even take a piss in this house without her going ape-shit. Nope! She said “Bye-Bye” and then walked right into the kitchen with Yaya. UMMMMMM! “What just happened?” I mean I guesssssss, that’s good. I wouldn’t want her to cry (too much). But a freaking tear would be nice Em. I mean you did try to kill me during childbirth.

But because I am absolutely madly obsessed with the girl, I called every 2 hours  and “checked in” at which point Yaya told me to “Go have fun already and leave us alone!” I demanded that we Facetime at least 3 times a day, everyday and I told my mom to let me know if Emmie was upset after we got off because “Mommy went away”. So we Facetimed and she smiled and laughed and kissed the phone, and did all the super flippin adorable stuff that really pulls on my heart-strings. And then all of a sudden as I was telling her I would talk to her soon she said “Bye Byeeeeeeeeeee!” and Poof! She was gone. I quickly texted my mom (because international calls are like 30 cents a minute and I had to save those blickities up) and asked what happened. Apparently Em was ready to go and had hit “the big red circle”. I asked if she was upset that we were gone and my mom said “No I think she doesn’t even notice.” OOOOOOHHH KAAAAAAAAAAAAAY! That one stung a little. Thanks mom.

Each day I would call and Em and Yaya would be out at the mall or out to eat. They were shopping or lunching or playing at the playground. Constantly on the go. My mom would answer and say “We can’t talk long we’re getting ready to go Annie.” Excuse me Yaya I wasn’t aware Emerson had such a busy schedule. But for the week at Yaya’s she did. She was basically North West.

My parents took her to a brewery on Saturday and apparently she danced for the band that was playing like a one woman groupie. Then my mom sent me a picture on Sunday with Em and a sippy cup and said “FYI Emmie really likes chocolate milk”.  Oh that’s lovely. She may never drink boring old white milk again. Thanks mom. And the best was the day before we came home. I could sense the desperation earlier when I talked to my mom about what time we would be picking her up. A few hours later I received a text that read: “Have another baby… I’m keeping this one.” Well that’s when I knew it wasn’t going to be easy to separate those two.

Here’s the adorable clip of her breaking it down:

But little did I know that Em was going to be the one that took it far worse. For the last week and a half, morning, noon and night all Emerson says is one word. “YAYA!” It doesn’t matter what we’re doing or what we’re asking her, her response is always the same… “Yaya!” The first few times we laughed and said “No, Yaya isn’t here” or “No, Emmie you’re with Mama and Dada now” but our efforts are futile. A nanosecond later she replies with the same word, her favorite word… “Yaya!”  Sooooo…. now we just laugh and hand her our phones. “Go ahead, give her a call. See if she wants to watch you!”

I’m not quite sure what happened over at Yaya’s but whatever it was Emmie is in some deep withdrawals. If I had to take a guess I would go with the fact that the word “No” wasn’t used much and the milk was flavored with chocolate.

But everyone knows it’s always more fun in the Yahamas. 🙂