Don’t be that Mom…

Don’t be that mom who cuts the crusts off your kids sandwiches. Really. You’re just going to start something you don’t want to finish. You cut the crust off one time for one kid and all of the sudden you have three kids claiming to be allergic to their crust every single day, and needing immediate removal of said crust from their sandwiches. Don’t do it. 365 x 3 is not a pretty number when you start adding up the bread you will have to decimate in a year’s time. Don’t even get me started on boys who eat more than one sandwich.

Insist that the crust has the most nutritional value (I seriously disbelieve this myself, but have seen my husband use it with success on our offspring) and let your children know you care too much about them to take away their nutritional value.

And then eat your lunch in a different room, so they don’t see when you leave your crust on your plate. Ahem.

Google-ing Momfessions

It always amuses me to see what kinds of random Google searches land unsuspecting curious souls here at Momfessions. Let me share a few that made me chuckle (and some that made me shake my head) tonight:

  • “i’m not pregnant i’m just fat”: Yea, me too.
  • “white kid breastfeeding”: Uh yea, I had three of those
  • “sparkly things”: I don’t see much of this around here. Funny story about this, about two years ago we were going to be out of town for our anniversary. While we were leaving town Hubby said, “I thought you could choose a piece of jewelry on our vacation for our anniversary…” I absolutely swooned inside thinking that was so romantic of him to let me choose something sparkly I loved until he added, “because I forgot to get you a gift.” Haha, he should have kept his mouth shut!
  • “can a flabby mom get super fit?”: I sure hope so.
  • “babies are human beings”: Yes they should be. Definitely a cause for concern if yours aren’t.
  • “pooped and sat in it”: I’m sorry?
  • “pictures obedient children”: Ha ha ha
  • “i hate bath, dinner, bed time”: Don’t we all sometimes? Hang in there, mama!
  • “daughter swallowed hair clip”: Ah, yes. Been there, done that. It’ll pass, but if she starts throwing up, you might want to have her seen by a doctor…
  • “pink justin bieber sewing machine”: Uhhh… I’m not really sure what you’re looking for. (Maybe you don’t even really know?) I don’t think Momfessions is the right place though.
  • “sloppy poop in potty”: Do you mean diarrhea? Or as Ladybug calls it– coffee poop?

Well, that was entertaining. Thanks for sending ’em over here Google– although on some of those I suspect you didn’t know where else to direct them.

True Confession

I do not like Pumpkin Spice Lattes, I do not like them, Sam I Am.

I will not drink them at the mall, I would not drink them in the fall.

I would not could not drink a tall, I would not drink that drink at all!

(OK, I have never tried one, but the name itself sounds disgusting and I would never pay what Starbucks costs to drink something called “Pumpkin Spice Latte”. Ew.)

I’ll have a skinny, iced White Chocolate Mocha with whip, please.

Parentin’ in my Hood Today

My baby is almost two.

I would deny it and continue to pretend he’s just a “baby” but lately he’s been acting like a demon two.

I’ve had two year olds before… I’m not sure if they are just making them more {crazy hyper into-things curious naughty} nowadays or what, but Y’ALL. Two might just turn my whole head gray this go ’round.

Let me give you a little run down of Doodlebug’s day:

8:30am We take Lady and Stink to their new school orientation. Doodle fusses to be released from his prison stroller and commences to run up and down and up and down the cement steps (falling twice). Then he sees some bigger kids (unwisely) sliding down a ramp on their feet and attempts to follow suit. He is grabbed just before busting his head wide open.

9:15am I go in Stinkbug’s classroom and try to listen to his teacher welcome the class/explain the supply list/calm the anxious mothers. Doodlebug’s activity in the classroom can be better summed up in art:

9:42am After trying to climb up the slide the wrong way on the playground and almost being slid over by a big kid, I wrestle Doodlebug into the stroller. (Read: wrestle. It is a full-on body effort using my elbow to fold his mid-section so he bends enough for me to buckle him in.)

10:02am I stop by the grocery to pick up a few things for dinner. Doodlebug SCREAMS through the entire store. He removes both his shoes and throws them at innocent bystanders (Ladybug, Stinkbug and me) and creates enough racket that store employees start grabbing my items to help me move more quickly out of the store. He is literally foaming at the mouth at this point. I start to wonder if it’s rabies.

10:13am Walking home and Doodle is STILL SCREAMING. I pass an old lady who stares at him and then asks, “Why is he screaming?” I don’t stop to chit chat.

10:23am After amazingly enough making it home with all my groceries and kids, I speak with Doodlebug about the ridiculousness of his behavior and leave him in his room in time out to calm down. I hear him rolling around and screaming on the floor. I turn my attention to Pinterest to wait him out.

11:01am I realize it’s quiet. This is not good in the Land of Two.

11:02am I find this:



12:20pm Doodlebug casually rolls up in the kitchen where I am making lunch as if nothing happened earlier in the day. Hmph.

1:35pm We are school supply shopping for the older two. Doodle is riding quietly in his stroller. (Did I mention quiet is NOT A GOOD THING?!) I realize he has pulled a marker off a low shelf and covered his arms and his beloved blanket with graffiti. He looks pleased with himself. Maybe he’ll be an artist?

2:55pm I find Doodlebug under the dining room table disassembling a fabric-covered bulletin board I made earlier in the day. His hands are full of thumb tacks. Niiice.

4:30pm Temper tantrum while Hubby’s on duty. Rolls under bed during tantrum. Hubby captures the moment forever. We are such good parents.

6:53pm Dinner is over but the table has not been cleaned off. I am helping the older kids with something in the living room when my radar goes off (Doodle was being too quiet…again) I find him in the kitchen, pouring leftover soup and milk between assorted bowls and cups left from dinner. Maybe he will be a chemist?

6:57pm I find Doodle in the bathroom with my makeup bag open and my powder brush out and soaking wet. I seriously hope it’s wet from the sink and not the toilet. I put Doodlebug at the table with his siblings to play with play dough.

7:13pm I answer the phone and chat with my friend for a few minutes about our days, Hubby comes home from a errand and I hear, “Unsupervised play dough?! Really???” I laugh realizing what a mess Doodlebug must be, but I’ll let Hubby deal with him this time!

7:47pm Getting the kids ready for bed, we find play dough crusted on Doodlebug’s face. Cool.

8:07pm The almost-two-year-old is in bed. We need to put the house back together and fortify it. Who knows what tomorrow will bring…


Chocolate or Poop?

If you haven’t seen Baby Mama, then you must not like to laugh during movies… I laugh OUT LOUD through most of this movie. In fact, it’s playing this morning while I fold the never-ending laundry pile (I swear, laundry breeds like rabbits when you have three kids!)
This scene just makes me giggle- Hubby and I actually has the “Chocolate or Poop?” conversation recently about a brown spot we found somewhere (on the carpet or someone’s clothes, I can’t remember now). Thankfully, it turned out to be chocolate too.
I chose to sniff-test instead of lick-test.
How do you decide Chocolate or Poop around your house?

And then I passed out and my iPod fell in the toilet.

True story. (Caution: bodily function words ahead.)

We spent the weekend sharing a stomach virus– as all good-mannered families do every year or so. Sunday was my day. I woke to a rumbly tummy, and made my way to the bathroom. I took my iPod touch because sometimes with tummy troubles, you have to ummm, you know, sit for a little while. I thought I could catch up on emails and Facebook happenings.

My tummy couldn’t make up it’s mind and I felt like I was gonna toss my cookies, so I put my iPod on a shelf in the bathroom and flushed and got ready to throw up. The vomit never came but I started feeling light-headed and my vision was clouded with waves of black.

I called out for Hubby, who couldn’t hear me over the dryer noise and the music he was playing. I stood up (I think- it gets foggy here) with the intention of making it back to the safety of my bed and that’s all I remember.

Apparently I passed out and pulled the towel bar down with me. Somehow I hit my foot wrong (it ached the whole rest of the day) and in the process of not-so-gracefully falling out, I knocked the shelf holding my iPod and in some random, we-couldn’t-make-it-happen-again-if-we-tried turn of events, my iPod fell kerplunk! straight in the toilet. (Which was thankfully clean water since I had flushed before attempting to throw up!)

Hubby helped me into bed, and saw my iPod in the toilet. He acted quickly getting it out and Googling what he should do to resuscitate it. What did people do before Google?! He didn’t tell me until later where he had discovered my poor iPod.

I am happy to announce that submerging the iPod in rice in a closed tupperware and placing it on the radiator for two days worked for my iPod. It dried out and works perfectly again. And I’ve learned my lesson about taking electronic devices in the bathroom, I’ll just stick with magazines for any prolonged stay!


I seem to find our third-born in a lot of naughty messy interesting circumstances lately. Tonight I walked into the kitchen to find this– unlucky for me, he’s learned how to climb up to the table by himself, so nothing is “safe” by just setting it up on the table. 
One night Doodlebug walked into the living room chowing on a lollipop he had fished out of the trash that was covered in hair. (And that’s not the only instance when I’ve discovered Doodlebug eating from the trash.)
I swear, I feed this kid three meals a day plus snacks!
Another day recently, I was sitting on the couch, and he walked up and put the toilet cleaning brush on my lap with a triumphant grin. After gagging, and washing all of his extremities (and mine), I declared that the bathroom doors must be kept SHUT so that Doodlebug could not access the limitless “toys” bathrooms contain.

Good thing he’s cute.