Jan
22
It is a known fact that, most weeks, I am not in the running for the Mommy of the Week Award.
I know, you are shocked.
- I have taken pictures of my daughter with crazy bed head first thing in the morning. Yes. I have. But she gets some SPECTACULAR bed head. It CRIES OUT to be photographed some days. I may even post some on Teh Intarwebs. Cause that’s how I roll.
- That Baby got all four of her front teeth at once, pretty much, but not until after her first birthday. And then all four of her next-to-front teeth. And now? All four of her molars. All at once. So, because of the sudden-yet-late arrival of all this stuff in her mouth, she’s still figuring things out. So she’s not into eating real food yet. I still give her mushed up whatever. She’ll eat what we’re eating when she is good and ready, and not a minute before. I was stressing about it for a long time, I still do — but I am trying to just chill about it. But the looks of HORROR and the mommy-drive-bys I get from other moms when I mention this are not to be believed.
- Kids fall down. Sometimes they get hurt. Sometimes just their pride gets hurt. Overheard yesterday at our house: “You’re okay. Yes, you are. You know how I know? Are you bleeding? Any major contusions? Are you unconscious? No. So that’s how I know.” But the good thing is that bruised pride is often healed with a good cuddle, and I will DEFINITELY take those anytime.
- At swimming class this week, the teacher wanted to sing some songs. She asked Ben what his favourite song was. His mom said “Old McDonald”. So we sang that. Then she asked Biting Abby what her favourite song was. Her grandma said “The Wheels on the Bus”. So we sang that. Then she asked Stinkerbelle what her favourite song was. I told her. “Bad Romance” by Lady Gaga. Well, she DOES love that video. WHAT?? Needless to say, that pretty much killed the singing songs portion of this week’s swimming lesson.
- I refuse to do any hairstyle on my daughter that takes longer than 10 minutes. I know that will earn me some slaps in some corners of the international adoption community. I am okay with that. Here’s the thing: she’s not even two yet. I’m not going to put both of us through the misery of asking her to sit still for an hour or more just to braid her hair. It is not fair to her. And it’s not fun for me. And I won’t do it until she is old enough to ask for the style AND understands that she will have to sit still for it. Then I will gladly do so.
- We’re trying to cut back on the swearing around here, because we don’t want That Baby to go up to people and say “bastard”. (Not that it would not be HILARIOUS, however; just probably not a good thing.) So we’ve been replacing our usual cuss words with appropriate substitutes — often animals. So, overheard fairly often around here: someone shouting “BADGERS!” with great venom. This morning? “FARTING BADGERS!” We are, however, okay with words like “fart” and “poop” and “pee”. Anybody offended by those words is going to need to plug their ears, because I hate cutesy baby-talk euphemisms. I once knew a freaky old woman who insisted her grandchildren say “My bum said ‘Boo’” instead of “I farted”. I wanted to do her an injury.
- Overheard during today’s diaper change: “Did I get poo on my shirt?” *sighs* “Yep, guess I did.” Note I did not rush off to change my shirt.
- I say words like “NO” and “STOP” and “WAIT” to my daughter. And I use a stern, loud-ish Mom Voice. And when I tell her these things, I expect her to LISTEN. Apparently, to many mommies and their out-of-control children, these words are UNHEARD OF. I’ll take the nasty looks I get, though… it’s better than chasing my toddler out of the dressing room into the foyer of the swimming pool in my underpants. For all concerned, I believe.
So, yeah. Not winning any Perfect Parent awards anytime soon.
