Archives for category: Mommy Tales

>

Baby W works on mastering his pouty face–he has become an expert.
Today’s post inspired by Casey’s touching words yesterday.
Every night,
and I mean every night for the last two years,
at around 10 pm I start to dread my impeding bedtime.
Because I know that going to bed means another evening of unrest.
Of getting kicked in the face 20 or so times.
Of stopping a sleep-walking baby from roaming throughout the house.
Of tucking and re-tucking him in over a dozen times.
Of getting awoken at that very moment that my body starts to finally enter the REM cycle.
I close my laptop around 12 or 1 am,
grab a glass of water,
kiss the sleeping hubby on the cheek
and crawl into a bright red race car bed
next to a snoring babe.
I place a diaper at arms length
for a certain middle of the night change,
adjust the pillows just right,
and make sure the taggies on his blanket
are within reach of his little fingers.
And then I say a silent prayer,
that maybe tonight will be different.
Maybe tonight will be the night that things get better.
I say Amen,
roll over so his chubby cheeks are less than an inch from mine
and inhale deeply.
I love the way he smells.
like a baby.
like possibility.
like hope.
like my son.
I smile and give him a series of light kisses all over his face.
Then I pull his body in closer
wrap my arms around him,
and thank God for these moments.
So what if I failed at the Cry It Out Method,
or didn’t take the Baby Whisperer’s advice.
Because moments like these are fleeting.
Moments where he lets me play with his hair,
and enjoys getting a thousand kisses,
and wants me cuddling next to him at all times.
In these moments, I remember why it’s okay to be tired.
Why it’s okay to sometimes break the “rules of parenting”.
Why the small moments matter the most…
…and then I do my best to embrace them.
…although a full nights sleep would be nice.

Top Mommy Blogs - Mom Blog Directory

>I want to be your Super Mom.

I want to be the Momma who finds the perfect balance
between being your parent
and being your friend.
I want to be the Momma who says yes
when you ask me to go out and jump on the trampoline,
or to build sand castles with you at the beach,
or get my hair wet at the pool,
or Ooo and Ahhh over your latest magic trick.
I want to be the Momma who throws the ball around in the backyard,
sings into a wooden spoon with the radio blasting,
and uses fun voices when I read your favorite books.
I want to be the Momma whose not afraid to make messes,
get my hands dirty,
or create a bit of chaos
all in the name of having fun with my little guy.
Then when you grow up and tell childhood stories to your own little family,
I hope that you will have fond memories
of my after school chewy chocolate chip cookies,
my perfect spiral football throw,
and the fridge I made sure was always overflowing with your artwork.
Because, thanks to this Momma’s Momma {your grandma},
I know how much the little things make a difference.
{our day trip to Underwood Family Farm}
*******************************************************
For updated information regarding
promotions on Little Miss Momma,
please visit my Advertising page HERE.
A limited number of sidebar button advertising will be available.

>

Just Another Day

Some have wondered what my typical day looks like.
When I find the time to blog,
how I keep Baby W busy,
when {or rather, if} I exercise.

So I have put together an outline of my day.
It’s super glamorous, let me tell ya.
No really, please don’t expect much.
And yes, I completely realize that many of my parenting methods are not
by.the.book.
Namely, Baby W’s sleep habits and his bottle dependency.
But if there’s anything I have learned as a parent,
it’s that sometimes you just have to do what works
so you can stay sane for the moments that require your patience the most
{for example, let’s say your toddler were to throw your iPhone in the toilet}.

So here is me, in a typical day, just trying to make it all work:

1:00 am
Baby W begins to whimper. Whimper turns into shrieking. Shrieking turns into stumbling out of bed to find his Momma. I close my lap top, grab my pillow, scoop up Baby W and curl up next to him in his bright red race car bed. Zzzzz.

3:00 am
Baby W sits straight up in bed.
I open one eye just in time to see him crawling over me to get out of bed. DaDa, DaDa. I grab my pillow, pick up Baby W, and then we crawl into bed next to Daddy and absorb all his warmth. Five minutes later Baby W is laying perpendicular between us, fast asleep.

6:45 am
Eyes. Nose. Mouth.
I wake up to Baby W aggressively poking at all my facial features and saying their names aloud. Daddy grabs his phone and plays scenes from Toy Story while we all lay cuddled together wishing our eye lids didn’t feel like a million pounds.

7:00 am to 8:00 am
This is Mommy and Baby W cuddle time. We meander out to the living room, grab extra blankets turn on Sesame Street and I rest my eyes while Baby W lays in my lap and giggles at Elmo’s jokes. I use my phone to read the majority of my fabulous blog comments while we cuddle.

8:00 am to 9:00 am
Baby W rejects his breakfast. He takes his daily 8:15 poo. Bath time. Then I wrestle clothes onto his squirmy body and leave him to play with his toys while I throw on an outfit and remove the leftover mascara from under my eyes.

9:00 am to 11:30 am
This is Baby W’s most alert part of the day so during this time I usually try to run my errands, schedule play dates, go to the market, post office, Costco and so on. I pick up the toys and clean up the breakfast dishes before we head out the door. Baby W doesn’t make errand running easy. By the time we are finished, Baby W is only wearing one shoe, I have sweat dripping down the middle of my back and mashed gold fish in the wispy front parts of my hair.

11:30 am to 12:30 am
Lunch time. Sometimes we meet up with the hubs, sometimes we eat Happy Meals and sometimes we just chill at home and enjoy Easy Mac. We also watch a lot of Toy Story during this time. When lunch is over we go on a drive or a walk around the block until Baby W falls asleep.

12:30 to 2:30
Nap time, ahhhh, nap time—oh, how I love thee.

As soon as Baby W’s head hits the pillow, I turn into a cleaning tornado. For 30 minutes I pick up all the toys, finish the dishes, make our bed, fluff the pillows, vacuum, mop, blah blah–yeah, I’m fast. Then I spend a few minutes going over a “to do” list for the rest of the day. I head out into my garage work space and design new product and fill my Etsy orders. Then I open up my laptop and do my best to knock out a few emails and make a facebook/twitter update or two. VERY rarely do I ever write a post during the day–my mind and body are usually moving to fast to focus. This is also the perfect time of day to take any product review, tutorial, or fashion pictures for a post. 

3:00 pm to 5:00 pm
I take Baby W on a 45 minute walk, at which time I also schedule any business phone calls I need to make. The best {most quiet} time to talk “work” is when I am pushing Baby W in the stroller. We get home, have a snack then do flash cards, stack blocks and read books. Well actually, I attempt to read books, but Baby W frantically flips through the pages before I even have a chance to read a single sentence aloud–but we try every day anyway.

5:00 pm to 5:30 pm
The hubby gets home and there are lots of kisses and snuggles and tickles. And then he says hi to Baby W. Hehe, just kidding–Baby W always gets the first kisses {lucky duck}. Because I am a terrible homemaker, we spend the next 20 minutes debating about what we should do for dinner. PB&J, Taco Bell, Sandwiches and Soup, CPK…We usually can’t make up our minds before Baby W is jumping out of his skin to go on an Adventure Walk.

5:30 pm to 6:30 pm
Baby W is in charge. Where he goes, I will follow. We head out the front door and he leads the way on our evening adventure. We collect rocks, pick flowers, throw dirt in the air and go up the slide the wrong way.

6:30 pm
What are we having for dinner?
I still don’t know–ugh!
Me: Babe, will you just pick up Taco Bell?
Me: Never mind, I want Jack in the Box tacos…
Hub: Sure hun.
Me: Grab extra hot sauce–and maybe an Oreo Shake, ya know, if you’re in the mood for one then maybe I’ll just have some of yours. *wink*
The hubs returns with two milk shakes.

7:00 pm to 8:30 pm
Bath time again.
Baby W dinner.
Clean up toys.
Read more books.
Stack more blocks.
And a bunch of other things we have already done 1,000 times today.

8:30 pm to about Midnight
Wind down time.
Baby W cuddles on the couch with Daddy and a bottle.
Often I take a bath.
I like baths.

Baby W won’t fall completely asleep until about 9:30.

The hubs and I cuddle for a bit and then I flip open the lap top and settle down for the evening. I get caught up on some of my favorite blogs, peruse through some new ones and then get to work on a new post.
Sometimes the words fall out of me, especially if I have had an “eventful” day with Baby W. After I write my post, I try to answer at least 25 emails–but I get about 50 a day that require a reply, so I am never caught up. I do my best to not let that stress me out, but of course it does. I hate the thought of anyone taking it personal that I haven’t returned an email, so I flag them with great intensions of returning them on a day when I have extra time. So far, my intensions have been greater than my follow through.

And that’s really it.
Each day varies slightly, but that’s the gist for the most part.
Any questions?
Bored to tears?

Once upon a time exercise was a part of my daily routine,
but since becoming a Momma the only exercise I get involves chasing a toddler.

>

I don’t enjoy saying NO, STOP and DON’T all day long.
And I really don’t want to be that Mom..
The one who develops my sons image of this world
in terms of all the things he “can’t” do.
But it takes a lot of effort, energy and patience to stay positive as a parent.
Three qualities that seem to be on short supply since the moment I earned the “Mom” label.
So I have had to improvise,
to find some tricks that help me stay sane
while also having a fun,
positive experience with my kiddo.
My favorite such activity,
the Adventure Walk.
We take our Adventure Walk nearly every early evening,
from about 4-5:30 p.m., give or take.
No stroller.
No specific destination.
No rules.
We just step out of the house,
and I follow Baby W wherever he leads me.

Sometimes we end up at the park,
sometimes the elementary school across the street,
sometimes the greenbelt,
sometimes all three. 

If Baby W decides he wants to pick up dirt and rub it into his clothes…
I let him.
If Baby W decides to throw rocks into the gutter…
He’s allowed.
If Baby W decides to jump in puddles,
take off his shoes,
go down the slide head first,
roll around in the grass
and get dirt under his fingernails,
then I turn off my Momma OCD for an hour and a half
and let him be a boy.
We collect all kinds of goodies on these adventures.
Sticks, stones, shells, rocks, bottle caps.
And just yesterday,
my Momma gave me these fun jars
to display our Adventure Walk discoveries.
 

The best part,
after our walk,
all Baby W wants to do is rest and cuddle on the couch.
And for those of you who know my kiddo,
that’s a rare occurrence.

>

Mommy Guilt.
Let’s talk about that for a minute, okay.

Like how I seriously despise going to the park.
But for some reason, admitting this fact gives me guilt.
As if admittance to my lack of excitement to have sand in my shoes,
get stuck in the tube slide, and experience sweat dripping down my back
somehow makes me a bad mom.

And then there’s the other kind of guilt.
The guilt I feel when I’m having a bad day.
Like yesterday.

Yesterday Baby W misbehaved in more ways than I can count.
Terrible twos doesn’t even begin to cover his behavior all day.
Food was thrown and mutilated,
furniture became a jungle gym,
diapers were ripped off,
poo was touched,
toys were thrown from moving vehicles,
and piercing shrieks were heard by the entire neighborhood.

But I stayed positive,
because that’s my new goal as a Momma.
To brush off the things that don’t matter.
To remind myself that this too shall pass.
To focus on his milestones, rather than his meltdowns.

I even devoted more of my energy to catering to his whims.
My “list” was ignored
as I spent the day building with blocks,
playing in the hose outside,
and singing Elmo’s world
over and over
and over.

Maybe he just needs some extra quality Momma time today,
I told myself.

So I smiled and made the best of his horrid behavior.

But then,
that night he did something so terrible
so horrible, so unforgivable {if he weren’t my pride and joy},
that I couldn’t keep the smile on my face any longer.

He took my brand new
iPhone 4
and he threw it in the toilet.

And you know what…
He knew exactly what he was doing.
I could see it on his face.
The look that said,
Well, what are you gonna do now?
Did I break you yet, Momma?

And he had.
I snapped.

WESLEY, WHAT did you do?!!!!
I snatched him up and put him in his “time out” area,
(an area he has yet to understand)
and proceeded to tell him just how bad his behavior was.

Of course I used toddler language.
Things like bad boy.
Mommy is very upset.
You are in big trouble.
That is not okay.
You are in time out now.

I even gave his hands one of those little slaps that
says I will never hurt you, but you need to know that I am serious.
He didn’t shed a tear,
and refused to make eye contact–proof he inherited the stubborn gene.

I told his Dad to come talk to him,
then I walked into the other room
took a deep breath
and I cried.
For over an hour.
Crying turned into sobbing,
which turned into swollen eyes, slimy nose
and my ugly dog face.
It was a bit ridiculous.
But we all need a good cry every now and then.

You see, it wasn’t about the iPhone,
although that made me sick to my stomach.
It was about what Baby W’s actions represented.
What his pure defiance said about my skills as a Momma.
And some of you may try to tell me
that a 2 year old can’t possibly understand what he did.
But I know my kid,
and TRUST me,
he knew.
And that broke my heart.

Just when I had run out of tears,
I could hear my little man in the other room with his Dad.
Momma, Momma–peas peas {please please}.

He wanted to say he was sorry.

So I let him,
in the most adorable way he knows how.
Kiss Kiss, he said.
And he wrapped his little arms around me,
gave me a kiss on the lips
and went to sleep.

Me: Why do I feel like I’m doing a terrible job?
Hub: You’re doing an amazing job, he’s just difficult.
Me: That doesn’t help. Why won’t he listen to a word I say?
Hub: I don’t really know. He’s never been easy.
Me: But why does it have to be so hard.

And then I stopped myself right there,
and allowed the other kind of guilt to set in.

The kind of guilt that doesn’t let a Momma ever feel sorry for herself.
The kind of guilt that tells you to suck it up.
The kind of guilt that tells you, you have no right to complain.

When I feel this guilt,
I always run through the same conversation with myself
{in my head of course}:
What right do I have to complain–I only have ONE kid!
What about Momma’s with multiples…
Or single Momma’s…
Or Momma’s with husbands that are away all the time…
Or worse…What about Momma’s that have children who have a medical condition.
Or with disabilities…
What right do I have to complain.
They have it harder than I can even fathom.

And then I kick my own butt,
tell myself to snap out of it,
and I suppress the stress and anxiety I am feeling,
because I have no right to feel this way, right?!

Last night, for the first time
I attempted to explain this feeling of guilt to my husband.

Me: I should be grateful. I should be counting my blessings, instead of complaining.
Hub: You do count your blessings. You are grateful, you say so every day.
Me: But I should have some perspective. In the scheme of things, it doesn’t really matter that my brand new, very expensive phone no longer works. What if he were sick, and in the hospital–now that’s something worth dwelling on. My concerns are so trivial…I shouldn’t ever feel frustrated, I have it easy.

And then the husband said something so simple, yet it was just what I needed to hear.
He even used his slow soft spoken voice,
the one that tells me he really means what he’s about to say.

Hub: Even Momma’s of kiddos who have a medical condition would get upset if their kid threw their new cell phone in the toilet.
Me: You think so? Said in my rarely used, soft spoken voice.
Hub: Yeah, I think so.

And at that moment, I felt a little less guilty.
I wrapped my arms around the hubs,
gave him a kiss, kiss
and went to sleep.

>

Taking Mommy advice is a tricky thing.
It seems I’m one of those Momma’s who likes to give,
but often doesn’t want to hear it.

Don’t get me wrong,
I’ll take any tips or hints or tricks
that might actually get my toddler to sleep through the night
at least once in his 21 months on this Earth.

And its not that I don’t want to hear about what has worked for other Momma’s, because trust me, I actually do.

It’s just that sometimes,
the advice I hear
makes me feel…
hmmm, whats the word?
Defeated.

Because, I swear to you,
my kid is the exception to every rule.

There is no book written
that has the solutions to his…
How shall I put this?
His energy.

When he’s awake,
nothing gets done.
And I’ve learned to accept that.

I wait for the moment he goes down for a nap
and then I speed through my daily list,
often with the heart rate of an Olympic sprinter.

So when I hear the most popular bit of Momma advice out there,
it usually makes me want to scream.

Said advice: Ya know, you should really sleep every time he goes down for a nap.  {Insert my frustrated scream here}

Well, sure, in a perfect world,
one where someone else ran my errands,
did my laundry, my dishes, my grocery shopping,
my diaper changing, my cooking {oh wait, I don’t cook}…
In that world,
I would happily take a nap
when my kiddo does.

But until then,
nap time will continue to be
MY TIME
to get life done.

Even if I’m a tired Momma,
he’s a happy and healthy boy
and for that I am 100% grateful.

*******************************************
Still time to enter these fabulous giveaways:
Giveaway
Giveaway

>

It’s all about the little things…
like bed head,
sticky faces,
round eyes,
and of course, pie.

Here’s to deep breaths,
and taking a moment to soak up
the little things.
And here’s to me, taking my own advice.