POSTS WITH TAG: a mom's life

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    Nobody said toddlers were easy. If they did, please give me their name so I can set them straight. Toddlers are easier, however, if you're prepared for them. Here are some tips for best doing that:

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    "Mommy, what's this?" your toddler asks. You turn around and see it: She's holding a fist full of your tampons. Or -- he's using your pantiliners as stickers. NO!!! You try and brush it off with "those are Mommy's ... things." But what toddler is going to take such a vague explanation, especially for something you won't let them play with?

    It's the other age-old question: How to explain your period paraphernalia to your toddler? There are no easy answers. We asked women how they've explained it, and here's how some especially funny and creative moms have put it.

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    I went for a mile jog on Tuesday.  Back when I was a single gal, in my early 20s, I took it upon myself to start running.  I was newly 21, weak and 'skinny-fat' and recovering from a few years of what might be defined as a 'risky lifestyle' (boyfriend with questionable business associates, depression, and self destruction -- maybe I'll share more about that some other time).  

    I was trying my best to keep myself together, working several jobs and living in a 1930's garage apartment behind a cat lady quilter. She made some seriously amazing artful quilts, that lady.  Like a silhouette of that famous John Travolta Saturday Night Fever arm shooting into the air pose in brightly colored contrasting printed fabrics, or even better -- the one she called "Cleopatra Drinks Tea," which was a scene of cats having a tea party, one of them donning a Cleopatra head piece.

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    It had been one of those mornings, where despite waking up early to get out the door, we were all rushing around. My 7-year-old suddenly remembered that he had homework to finish, and there was absolutely no way he could do it without my help. In the midst of this, my 9-year-old’s world was ending because she couldn’t find her snow boots or library books.

    My littlest was crying into her bowl of now soggy cereal. Why? Because her cereal was soggy, of course. The lunches still hadn’t been made, teeth still needed to be brushed, and the decibel levels of childhood antics were out of control. I knew I was on the edge of losing it.

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    Every year when Mother's Day rolls around, the kids get busy with crayons and scissors and start making mom a Mother's Day card. The results are usually sweet. What's not to love about a little one making something nice for mom? But every mom has that one card that turned out a little ... funny?

    Kids have a way of making us laugh, even when it's unintentional. Take an awkward drawing that may or may not resemble a part of the male anatomy here and throw in some, ahem, questionable misspellings, and handmade Mother's Day cards can have moms rolling.

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    It's time for another installment of "You're not the only flawed parent out there." Could you use the reminder, too?

    Below are 10 recent Scary Mommy Confessions for those of you who may be having trouble keeping up with all of the seemingly perfect parents out there. Because, really? We've all got something to confess ...

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    Let me be totally honest with you.

    For quite some time, I spent my days as a mom in denial, not seeing Jack's issues that were right in front of me. I was trying to will away certain labels and diagnoses. There are labels in the preemie world that I shunned. I desperately didn't want them for Jack's life. Labels like Cerebral Palsy and Special Needs. 

    I did not like those terms. They implied something. They had such loaded meanings. And they brought pity. I hate pity. Just please, please do not pity me! I don't need your well-meaning, but sad, pat on the back.

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    We pulled into the Starbucks parking lot just as the kids were waking from their nap. We’d been driving for two hours, halfway between Dallas and Austin in college-town Waco. It was time for a break. As I pulled Leyna out of her car seat, I got a whiff of something foul.

    I instinctively pulled back her diaper to confirm the mess I suspected, then I pushed the assortment of shoes, jackets, and old sippy cups off the bench seat in the Jeep, plopped her down, and changed her diaper because I was 90 percent sure there wouldn’t be a changing table inside. A rogue cup rolled out of the car and into the parking lot.

    I screamed at Kendall as he went to chase it. “DON’T YOU DARE! STAY RIGHT HERE.” Parked directly in front of the picture windows of a Starbucks full of college students, we were on display, a traveling parade of free birth control.

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    A good friend of mine is expecting her first child any day. For her baby shower last month, the attendees were asked to jot down a few pieces of advice to pass on to the mom-to-be. Most women came up with great reminders of things to do -- take pictures, keep a baby book, take vacations, etc. -- but when I got home, it dawned on me that the most important things I've learned about parenthood have been the don'ts. Don'ts like these ...

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    So, I still don’t fully understand the turn of events that caused this to occur, but somehow, it was decided spur-of-the-moment that my husband would drive our children to Michigan to visit their grandparents, and they would ALL STAY FOR A WEEK. In a different state. Where I am not. Like, all of them.

    Which left me … unsupervised.

    Which seemed like it should be TOTALLY AWESOME PARTY TIME. I’ve never been unsupervised for a week before ever. In my whole entire life. 

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