Plastic Bags and Chewing Gum

On Monday we went to the co-op.  The Iowa City one.  Definitely not the one in Coralville.  Still can't bring myself to re-visit the scene of that crime.  Well, they also don't carry what I was planning on buying.  It was a pretty enjoyable trip on the whole, kids were good, found what we needed, etc.  Oh, and I got a Blue Sky soda.  I know I've mentioned my Blue Sky love before.  Unfortunately I committed one of the larger co-op faux pas.  I forgot to bring my own bag.

I'm really not a wasteful, terrible person who wants to paper our earth with little plastic bags of death or anything.  I did have a nice reusable bag with me that I intended to use.  I just forgot it in the car because I spent so much time trying to get everything else all NewPi ready, which is quite a process with three kids in tow.

First, I rearranged the clothes on the two younger ones so that a good chunk of cloth diaper was sticking out.  That way everyone would know that I totally love earth and am trying not to overflow our landfills.  Then I made sure to put not one, but two children into carriers, one on back, one on front.  No stroller for me in the co-op, I made that mistake once.  Nobody likes a NAV* in the co-op, somewhat understandably as it does have small aisles. I then talked Molly out of bringing a Disney Princess Barbie with us.  Too bad I don't have any Waldorf dolls to use as props.  And lastly, I pulled my faux leather wallet out of my real leather purse so as not to offend any wandering Vegans.  And then I forgot the reusable bag.

I was so ashamed at the check-out counter when he asked if I needed to purchase a plastic bag.  When I told him that I had forgotten mine in the car he so didn't believe me!  There was a bit of an eyeroll.  But he wasn't so bad.  It was the older woman behind me.  She totally gave me a 'bitch, I know you club baby seals while shamelessly spraying Aqua Net' look.  It's just a bag.  One bag.  That I've reused already.  Twice (well, the last use was as a garbage bag--does that count?).  Besides, I have two kids in cloth diapers.  I've built up some environmental karma (that I totally squander by being a terrible recycler--I plan on changing that, really, I do).

Then we skulked out of there with our plastic bag of shame.  Somewhere between the door of the co-op and our car (about 30 feet) my daughter found a prize.  She tucked it away in her hand and waited until I was on the other side of the car, getting her brother into his car seat to pull it out.  Pretty clever plan on the whole.  Except for the I have a sense of smell part.  Because even though the gum she found was already chewed, it was still quite fragrant having sat in the hot sun for who the hell knows how long.  That was awesome.

*NAV = Natal Assault Vehicle

Wordless Wednesday - Thanks, Max!

Loading Zones

I feel like ranting.  I've been holding onto this rant for two days now, since I went shopping on Friday.  My husband has heard this one like a million times before so I thought I'd take it here.  So now he can read about it instead of hearing about it, which probably sucks about the same amount.  Sorry.  I know I have like 4 readers, one of whom is my husband, and now I'm alienating him.  Oops. 

So anyway, here it is.  I fucking hate it when people pull their cars into a store's loading zone to load/unload passengers when it's raining (or snowing--I'm just picking on rain right now 'cause it's still summer).  Unless your passenger is rocking a pointy hat and green skin, he/she can probably walk across the parking lot in the rain without any serious damage.  And if getting wet is a really an issue I've been told that there's something on the market that can help keep a majority of the rain off of a person.

I know, there are some exceptions.  It can be difficult for some handicapped or elderly people to walk in the rain, It can be a bit slippery, and it can wreak havoc with walkers and wheelchairs.  However, it's not typically these people taking up precious loading zone space.  Nine times out of ten, it's someone with an infant.  There's nothing worse than seeing a young couple pull their shiny new OMG-we're-having-a-baby SUV up to the door of the local Target, take out their covered baby bucket, put the covered baby bucket into the stroller, pull the cover up over that, before finally pushing the giant travel system into the store after having blocked that loading zone for about 10 minutes. 

Now, I feel like I can speak with a little bit of authority on this as I've had a few children myself, so here goes.  Babies can get wet.  No, really, they can.  They'll be okay, they're pretty resilient.  Some babies even get regular baths and they're okay.  Also, that little hood thing on your baby bucket carseat, and that hood thing on your stroller?  Yeah, those help keep the baby dry.  Baby's going to be fine.  Just park, unload, and hurry into the store.  If you're worried enough about inclement weather that you need to take special precautions just to load/unload, then stay home.

Why do I hate this so much?  How does it affect me?  Because it's never just one car doing it.  It's several.  Every person who thinks they're too damned special to walk in the rain pulls up into the loading zone, and at any given time you have 3-5 cars blocking a good chunk of major parking lot thoroughfare.  It's dangerous.  Vehicles driving through the parking lot have less room to maneuver and more importantly, they're less likely to see pedestrians stepping off the curb.  Given the fact that visibility is already likely hampered by the poor weather, this additional impediment dramatically increases the risk for everybody involved.

It's especially bad at our local grocery store right now as it is under massive re-construction and their parking lot not in the best condition now as part of it is blocked off.  Add to that 3 SUV's sitting in front of their door and you've got a truly dangerous situation.  On Friday night when I was shopping I watched several near-misses of both the bumper-bumper and bumper-person variety.

It sucks having to go out in bad weather to do something you likely don't want to do, I get that.  And sometimes there are valid reasons for needing to use the loading zone, that's why it's there.  But please, people, be smart about it.  Use it when it's truly necessary, and don't take all day doing it.  Load/unload, but be quick about it.  Don't put other people in danger if you don't have to.

I'm done ranting, I'll save my parking space stalker rant for later.

Molly Explains it all - Tylenol

Molly has a fever, so we gave her some Tylenol.  Right after she finished it she came over to tell me how it's made.  I typed it as she spoke, so it's pretty accurate.

Tylenol is made out of purple strawberries.  First, you take a strawberry and you paint it purple.  A sweet strawberry, then you let it dry.  When it's dry, you slice a little of the purple strawberry and you mix it with a big little mixer thing.  Then you mix it with glue, to make it good.  Then you put a purple candy in to make it sweet, then a steak.  The steak and an ingredient help make it sweet.  Then you put a bead in it, it's a bead you can eat.  Then you put it in a big bottle and you shake it.

And there you go, the top secret Tylenol manufacturing process.

Ducking Android

I swear a lot.  But don't worry, I don't swear much around the kids.  Much.  I wait until they're gone, then I let loose.  I also swear a lot in emails.  Especially to my husband.  Unfortunately my phone has hampered this a bit.  It doesn't come with all of my favorite swear words built in so it auto-fills and auto-corrects for me.  Here's an email chain between my husband and I from last week:

Me:  Max just pees in the potty.


Mark:  He doesn't do anything else?  He just pees in the potty?  


Me:  Peed. Ducking autocorrect.  Ducking, even.


Mark:  I am literally laughing out loud right now.


Me:  Goddammit.  Fucking.


Mark:  I totally shared this with people.  

Puddle Jumping

I stepped in a puddle the other day.  Doesn't sound like a big deal, does it?  Except that this puddle was at the Tot Lot in a gymnasium filled with toddlers and preschoolers.  I was giving the kids their we're going to leave in 10 minutes warning, felt something splash on my toes, looked down and found my Reef flip-flops totally surrounded by liquid.  Mystery liquid.  In a room with toddlers.

Be proud of me, I didn't say what I was thinking, which involved a lot of not-so-nice words, including one or two that start with "mother" but don't end on such a pleasant note. I shuddered, calmly walked back to my stuff and wiped my foot off.  Then I grabbed the kids (screw their 10 minutes) and went home where I could scrub my foot in the comfort of my own bathroom. 

Overreaction much?  Yeah, probably.  I know it was likely water from somebody's sippy cup.  I know it wasn't juice, because it wasn't sticky.  But there is still the possibility that it may have been urine.  Toddler urine.  From a toddler that is not mine.  I get the chills just thinking about it.  I find pee disgusting.  Worse than poop for me.  I know, I have my own kids, I must see quite a bit of toddler urine and I do, but I deal with the pee from my own kids 'cause I love them and we share DNA and stuff.  I can even deal with pee from kids I know if I have some advance warning, but stranger pee* crosses the line for me. 

Also, who the hell spills (bio- or otherwise) stuff all over the gym floor and then doesn't clean it up.  They're pretty lenient about food and drinks at that tot lot (as opposed to Coralville, where the woman in spiked heels crossed the gym floor just to tell my kid to put the raisin box away), so come on, clean your damn spills up.

And speaking of urine, I need to go wash diapers.


*I wonder if the phrase "stranger pee" will get me any kink-search hits.

Pest? Or Preschooler?

Joel McHale has a great stand up routine in which he discusses the toddler parent genius/retard (don't get all Sarah P on my ass, he used the term, not me) dilemma.  It's about spending a good chunk of your time trying to determine if your kid is a genius or a retard based on all of the silly little toddler things he/she does.  Kid flips lights on, genius!  Kid flips lights off, gets scared, can't turn light back on, retard!  That sort of thing.  If you like that kind of humor, google it, it's funny, you'll LOL and stuff.

Well, I have my own little dilemma going on now that I'll refer to as "pest or preschooler".  I don't actually use the term "pest" when thinking about this myself, I use something far more colorful.  But not too colorful as I am referring to my daughter, even if she is being naughty.  But anyway, it boils down to trying to decide if my 4-year-old is just a hopeless bully who will never have any friends 'cause she's totally mean, or if she's just being a typical 4-year-old, but I don't realize that 'cause she's my first 4-year-old.

I've had several people reassure me that Molly is a pretty typical 4-year-old, but still, I find myself playing this game more and more every day.  Molly has always erred a little on the less side of the sensitive scale, but lately it's been exaggerated.  She's become very physical (poor Max), and she's also started talking cruelly to other children.  Not insults, 'cause she's not there yet, but tone; she uses a haughty/cruel tone with other kids.  And the pushiness.  Oh dear, she's a pushy little girl, it's her way or the highway.

Until recently I never had to worry about Molly's behavior when we were on outings or hanging out with our friends, she would be a bit shy at first, then she'd play pretty nicely.  Every so often I would have to remind her to stop being so bossy.  But lately I've found myself having to step in and correct her behavior more and more.  There's been some hitting, some pushing, and even some barking (yes, barking) and it's scaring other kids away.  Obviously it's embarrassing for me, nobody wants to have the mean kid in a group.  But worse, is that I'm afraid that it's going to start affecting her negatively soon.  She's going to be the little girl that nobody wants to play with (and no parents want their kids around) and that would absolutely break my heart. 

I know I'm being silly, and I know it probably really is a phase, but still, I worry.  I don't want people to see a hitting, barking little girl.  I want everybody to see the Molly that I see.  She's silly, and she's smart and she has a huge imagination that is filled with fairies, cotton candy and awesome.  That Molly is a lot of fun to hang out with.



I had to pause in the middle of typing this post to get her to stop whacking her brother with a string of Bud Light Lime beads.  Twice.

Wordless Wednesday- The hand that feeds

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Bitch-Slapped

Blogger ate my post, so this is a re-post, which is probably just a pale shadow of the original post, which I can assure you was full of awesome.

Today I took the kids to a "Paint the Town" event at the library.  Based on the name I figured that the library had wised up and was going to use child labor to re-paint benches and shit.  Or that it would at least have something to do with graffiti.  But neither thing was true.  It was just painting on big pieces of paper on tablecloth covered tables.  Paint the town my ass, the only thing that got painted was Max's front teeth and my left thigh. 

But whatever, the kids feigned interest for about 5 minutes, then I let them change into their swimsuits and hit the fountain.  That's what they really wanted to do anyway.  And I have to admit that hanging out in the shade by the fountain was far better than dodging an army of 3-year-olds wielding large plastic cups of tempera paint.  So we played in the fountain.  I chatted with friends, chased after my son and tried to keep Molly from barking at strangers.  We were all having a pretty good time.

Until I got bitch-slapped by a mentally disabled person.  No, really.  I was standing in the middle of the Ped Mall, threatening my son gently requesting my son return to the fountain and stop loitering outside the Sheraton.  Suddenly I felt something hit my upper arm and shoulder, so I turned to look (I so thought it was a bird, which would have freaked me out, 'cause I really hate birds) and I got slapped in the face, well, more batted in the face, it wasn't really an open-handed slap. 

After slapping me, he/she (I'm not being shitty, I really could not tell if this person was male or female) just kept walking, trying to keep up with his/her companion.  I didn't do anything, well, except utter a few really choice swear words; I was just in shock.  I am glad I registered that this person was disabled, though.  Because if I had hit back or caused a scene of some sort there's no way I would have ever lived that one down.  Not to mention that I would have probably felt like a total asshole.  I do wish that I had said something to the companion because I'm not even sure she saw it happen.  She seemed far too busy just rushing about 10 steps ahead of the person she was being paid to take care of and that's not cool.  Especially considering the person she takes care of is clearly a hitter (unless it was just something about me that made her lash out, which is entirely possible).

The upside of the mauling (melodramatic much?) was that it knocked me out of my bad mood.  I was in a seriously craptacular mood all morning.  I didn't wake up that way, and nothing happened to cause it, it just crept up on me at some point.  Fortunately it wasn't the kind of bad mood in which I spend all day being pissy and snapping at everyone.  It was the kind of bad mood in which I just keep a running list of every single thing that has annoyed me all day long (quietly seethe).  I even debated posting my list, but I didn't.  I probably would if asked, though.  At least a few of the big things.

Anyway, bad mood gone, I was able to really enjoy the rest of the day.  The kids and I had a picnic lunch in the ped mall, and then we went for a walk.  Maggie fell asleep in the stroller and Max fell asleep on my back in his carrier, so I was able to treat Molly to a juice box (Max can't have them, he squirts them everywhere) and myself to a Blue Sky soda (oh how I love thee) at the Bread Garden.  We had a great time.

Then we went home, where it seems the dog enjoyed his own "Paint the Town" event.  All over the living room.  At least he kept it on the hard surfaces (mostly) and contained to one room.

Wordless Wednesday

Every Wednesday my reader's inbox is full of other people's "Wordless Wednesday" posts. These are usually sweet, meaningful pictures of their children sleeping or running through sprinklers and shit. No words, just pictures. I thought I'd try it, too. Although you can see that I failed on the no words part.

Holy shit it's hard to blog from your phone.

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It's been one year

If you know me, you know what song is going through my head right now by the title.  Just sayin'.

It's been one full year of stay at home mom goodness for me.  Well, technically one year ago today was a Saturday, and Mark was home with me, so I guess my new "job" hadn't started yet, so it hasn't been a full year, but whatever.  I'll take my milestone now anyway, k, thanks.

When we shared our Candace is going to stay at home plans with our family a couple years ago, we got a mix of opinions.  Most were pretty positive, well, actually everybody thought it was a good idea, so I guess it wasn't really a mix.  Thing is, most people didn't think I could do it.  Particularly my family.  I think the most optimistic time frame given amongst my family was 6 months (if they'd asked, I would've put myself down for at least 8).  They figured I'd be bored and sick of kids pretty quickly.  I guess I don't give off super fuzzy stay at home mommy vibes.  Granted, I don't, but they severely underestimated my ability to entertain myself and three small children.

All that aside, I was actually pretty terrified this time last year.  I really wasn't sure if I could be sole entertainment, source of snacks and nutritious lunches 9 hours a day, 5 days a week without going nuts.  I was definitely worried about having a lack of adult interaction, all of the typical things people bring up when I said I was going to stay home.  Not to mention the fact that I was newly pregnant and suffering from pretty nasty morning sickness (and only able to eat fast food chicken sandwiches without vomiting--so add in a dash of malnourishment).  So yeah, I was nervous, and I honestly have no recollection of what we did that first week at home.  I do remember that it went well, and that we had fun, though.

Overall this whole year has gone so much better than I thought it would.  We've done so many things, and gone so many places that we would have never gotten the chance to had I still been working.  I've had so much fun, and I think the kids have, too.  We've met so many new people and have made so many new friends (random plug - if you stay at home and are in Iowa City you should so be joining our play group), it's just been incredible.

One year down, and several more to go before my baby* is in school.  I hope that all of them go as well as this past year.

*In case you were wondering, Maggie is definitely the last.  Tubes tied.  Hopefully she tied those fertile little bitches with a double-knot and an extra dose of cauterization.