Tag Archives: mommy madness

He Likes To Party

My husband is trying to condition our son to answer every question with, “because I like to party”.

He rewards The Cole with a high-five and loving praise each time he uses this phrase, to aide in his Pavlovian experiment of the day.

Me: “Colebert, why haven’t you picked up your cars like I asked you to do 30 minutes ago?”Colebert’s response: “because I like to party”.

Me: “Son, why is there a bowl of melted ice cream just kickin’ it on the dining room table like it lives there?” Cole: “because I like to party”.

He’s finishing sentences I begin with, “I …” by inserting “like to party” before I can go on.

I hear a shout out from Dad every now and then from the background. He’s going on about some G6. As if I knew what the hell he was talking about.

The game started out somewhat amusing but has quickly dropped to “barely tolerable” status in record time.

At bedtime, Cole was a bit whiny and complainy, as he often is at around the same time every night. I told him to kiss his Daddy and find his cup because it was time to go to bed. He got the face, and proceeded to slowly whine out, “but I”, only to have Mom interject with the phrase of the day. You guessed it – “like to party”.

At least Dad and I got a good laugh out of it. I’m not so sure he was in the laughing mood considering he just got moded by his mom and all. It’s cool, though. What better time to learn about good sportsmanship and early 90′s jargon?


Change Is A Comin’

I was featured in the Scary Mommy Society today with a guest post I wrote called, Exponentially Irritating. I’m excited to have been a part of Jill’s blog and a member of this elite society.

Okay, so maybe it’s not elite … but are you a part of it? I didn’t think so.

Anyways, I’ve been putting off changing my blog over to a new hosting site until after my guest star appearance was finished in case I screwed everything up, somehow, and had a dead link to my blog or God knows what else. I could’ve easily had the link set to send you to a photograph of me with your mom when clicked. I didn’t want that to happen. Our relationship is still too new to be scrutinized.

In any case, if my blog seems a bit unorganized or even invisible from time to time, don’t freak out on me. It’ll be alright.   Rest assured that I will not rest assured until I am sure things are in working order .

I have at least 8 more smiley’s I’d like to get in on this post, but I’ll spare you the emoticon breakdown tonight. I’m off to your mom’s house bed for the night.

It’s been real. And it’s been fun. But it ain’t been real fun.

Okay, it has.

His Game is Tight

I told the kid he needed to pick up his Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles cards off my office floor before I would open his new Lego’s.

He told me he couldn’t and told me all about how he couldn’t walk and didn’t have any thumbs; the usual sob story. Then he hit me with his newest and most effective sucker punch to date: he said,

“Mommy, you hurt my feelings”


Granted, I am still not sure how my asking him to pick up after himself truly hurt his feelings, but he definitely won that round. I picked him up and rocked him for a good 7 – 10 minutes while he fake cried over his hurt feelings.

His turtle cards are still on the office floor. He is now playing Lego’s. Dammit.

The Aftermath

Cole’s party was a blast. Everyone thoroughly enjoyed themselves. It was great fun for all ages, as promised. Fun – and a great work out. The jumpers were adult friendly. . There was literally a line of people (mostly adults) waiting to take their turn in the monster of all jumpers.I’d post a picture but I don’t think a picture could do this massive pillow of air justice. Let’s just say that my legs are still a little sore from the climb up the air pegs to get to the top of the big ass air slide in the monster of all jumpers. Of course, that could also be because I’m over weight and out of shape. But take my word for it – it’s because of the massive jumper climbing.

There weren’t as many kids there as there was supposed to be, but I’m pretty sure Colebert didn’t even notice. His best friend showed up and that’s all that matters. Look at these two:

How cute are they?

Anyway, after the party comes the putting away of all the new toys. This is no easy feat, let me tell you. There may not have been a whole bunch of screaming toddlers there, but there definitely was a big showing of adults who love the kid and went out of their way to go purchase the most obnoxious toys ever made.

He got a kid sized leaf blower from his grandparents. A pretend leaf blower. “Pretend” in the way it does not actually blow, but very real in the way that it makes the same sound an actual leaf blower makes. Complete with little tiny balls in a contained space that make the crackling sound we all love so much. No one can convince me that toy, specifically, was not created for the sole purpose of annoying parents. Have you ever known any kids who are aspiring gardeners?

Neither have I.

He also received some more stickers. Awesome. Thanks again, Laura! Don’t think I feel the need to wait until your son’s birthday to send over a thank you gift. You may want to hang out at the house on Friday between the hours of 1 – 4 p.m. Expect a package with air holes .

I’ve been cleaning the kids room for hours in an attempt to make room for the new and get rid of the old. It’s been a long time coming. I was going through the bucket-o-crappy toys trying to find the ones no longer working, whole, or used earlier tonight. Talk about a smorgasbord of fun. I put a toy in this bucket and all kinds of random sounds reply. I heard a “moo” (which I took personally for just a minute), a car engine rev, a horn honking, a song from some sound book, … the list goes on and on. The best one, though, was the bear who asks for a hug from his friend.The batteries are almost completely dead so when the bear talks, it totally sounds like a creepy dead guy begging for one last hug. I only wish Colebert had been in the room when I discovered that bear so I could have terrorized him for just a few minutes before the bear took his last breath (and consequently, ended up in the throw away pile).

All in all, it was a fun day and the kid made out like a bandit.

Is it wrong that I hold all his new toys hostage and use them as bribery tokens whenever I feel the need? I think it’s kind of cool because when he sees the toy again after I take it out of hiding, it’s almost like it’s his birthday all over again.

Thanks, Honey

Dear Loving Husband,

When I left for the grocery store earlier this afternoon, things were all as they should be.

You were playing your video game.

Colebert was playing with stickers (see below):

sticker frenzy

I had the go-ahead to handle my business outside my mother ship. You let me know you boys would be fine for a few minutes while I ran an errand or two.

When I returned home, at nearly 6 p.m., I opened the door to this image:

sleeping child *Please take note of the two items marked in red. 1) the stickers on the furniture now, as opposed to his face (where I told him he could put as many stickers as he wanted… just as long as NONE ended up on the furniture or the floor. 2) the boy passed out cold at 6 p.m.damn my eyes (1)

The sticker issue, I feel, is an obvious one. I realize that you have never had to scrape the remains of a sticker that has been firmly pressed into hardwood or any painted surface, personally, but I know you’ve seen me do it. It’s quite a pain in my ass. My issue with the nap is this: IT’S 6 P.M.! This is the formula for an all nighter with a crazy Cole.

I know I may have really let you down when I was slightly more than peeved, as opposed to thankful, when I walked in tonight. I appreciate the effort. I know he has been resisting the nap all day and you finally won the battle.   Thanks, honey. sfs

The war, however, will be left for me to fight. sigh

Now you know I don’t believe in waking children up – ever. Not only is it just against everything I stand for, but we’re in agreement that Cole is the crankiest kid, ever, when he is woken up. Honestly, I don’t have the strength to deal with it today.

Since it is already 9 p.m. and Cole still hasn’t stirred, I’ve decided that if Cole does wake up, we’re telling him it’s the middle of the night and he needs to go back to bed. This is cruel because 1) he hasn’t eaten dinner and 2) because I know he’s going to be semi-trippin thinking he knows it was daytime when he passed out.

Regardless, that’s the plan.

It wasn’t long after we (I) devised this plan that you, honey, passed out too.

11 p.m. – I start to wonder if the kid is feeling okay. Tomorrow is his party. It would be a shame if he got sick right now. I resist the urge to go take his temperature, knowing that the slightest sound within a 5 ft. radius will most likely wake him. I’m also growing more resentful towards you as the minutes pass. Thanks, honey. sfs

11:30 p.m – I can’t even do anything productive because I’m afraid of making too much noise. I cannot comfortably go to sleep because I know he will wake up about 10 minutes after I doze off wanting waffles or some shit. There’s nothing worse than being woken up right after you fall asleep. Although you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you honey? crossed arms (1)

So here I sit. Anxious and non-productive. I blame you.

Thanks, honey. sfs

The Mommy Gig

There are books and websites and television shows telling us all how wonderfully rewarding it is to be a stay at home mom. They gush about how lucky we are to be able to stay home with the kids all day. I am not here to argue either of those points, as they are both valid. I have never done anything more important or rewarding than raising my son. I miss him when I’m gone for the day and realize I am lucky to get to witness first hand all of his developments and achievements in these beginning years of his life. But guess what else I am …


For a long time I thought I was the only woman who felt overwhelmed by this kid thing. I searched the internet and read all the books I could find in hopes to find other women like myself; women who were pretty much winging this whole parenting gig. I wanted to make sure I wasn’t a “Bad Mom” just because I sometimes joked about putting duct tape over the mouth of my screaming child (I wasn’t going to actually do it). I wanted to find another woman out there who, for the 1st couple of weeks after her child was born, wasn’t completely sure she had a stronger bond with the dog she’d had for the last 6 years (it doesn’t really seem fair to kick him out of the bed just because there’s a new guy in town, you know?). It’s moments like those – when we question our abilities – that make us human. If you can say, with a straight face, that you have never wondered about a debarking type procedure for your precious toddler, I’d say you are a damn good liar. :)