PheMOMena

Baby K is transitioning from a babbling baby to a very talkative toddler. It has been in the works for a bit now. I mean, if you look at her parents, it is easy to see WHY Baby K would be a talker. Ok- if you look at ONE of her parents. It is me. I am the talkative parent. I have to admit that when kids learn to talk... that shit is hilarious. It is funny and cute and completely inappropriate to repeatedly ask your daughter to repeat herself when she says new words. I am totally guilty of having a 'bad mom' smirk on my face as my child adds to her vocabulary. I cannot help it. When she first ventured out into sing-a-longs with us, her favorite song was "The Wheels on the Bus." She knows what the wipers do, the windows, the wheels. Then we got to the door and y'all. Y'all. Did you know the doors on the bus go "open and shuck"? Because they do in this house. And I absolutely REFUSE to correct her. I know that she will learn the right way to say it....

Round these parts summertime is for doing kid things like going to every playground we see and the ultimate test of mama's sanity- swim class. Now, generally, extracurricular classes are dad's domain. He takes little Lady K to class and he stays with her. It serves as daddy/daughter time and mama also gets to stay home and finish a HOT cup of coffee and get herself together. It is wonderful. It worked through the Spring (dance class) and we had set the Summer up to follow suit. But summer is swim class... and swim class is not for the faint of heart. Two weeks ago, hubs visited a Goldfish swim school in a central Ohio suburb and signed up Little Lady K for class. He attended the first class with her and it was traumatizing for the toddler. Last week, after class, she asked me to come to class with her and dada.I checked on my portable coffee mug supply and once I saw that I had five mugs to choose from, I told her that I would come and watch her class. Y'all, why did I ...

Oh, sigh. I try to keep things on THIS blog fairly light, right? I mean, I tell you all about my daughter and the new stages we are going through (BTW, we are all still assigned rotating characters from random ass Nick Jr. shows, just in case you we wondering). But, I find that what we did as a family today, along with some news stories, will take the levity out of this post. What can I say? We will be back to shits and giggles in the next post. Today, Luke Perry died. If you didn't know, he grew up a short car ride (think 35 minutes or so) from our neighborhood. In the early 90s, when I was barely a teenager, he was like the end all be all on 90210. He was hot and his hair was perfect and I loved him. (Didn't love the show, but Dylan... I totally loved Dylan). Last week Luke had a massive stroke. He died today, while I was in a meeting, at the age of 52. A few reasons why this freaked me out: 1. Hubs is 51, 2. Luke seemed to be in great health (and I am sooooo not curren...

Most days I am “mama,” hubs is “dada,” and our offspring is “Kensie”. Most days. Which is generally how we like it, since we pored over our baby name list and picked a name that had meaning to us and all that jazz, right!? Right.  Starting yesterday, Kensie decided that she was NOT going to be Kensington for the duration. She was on some ‘my name is whatever I say it is’ bullshit. Not only did she say what her new name was, but Mark and I got new names also. She changed up the game all over. Like, fuck my feelings forever— she didn’t care that I’ve had the same name for 41 years, that shit stopped yesterday! 😒😒 So yesterday, Baby K was Owlette from PJ Mask. I was Cat Boy (did NOT like) and hubs was Gekko. If we called her baby, Kensie or any other name besides Owlette she SWIFTLY sent the correction AND would not answer us until we used her proper name. Protests of “I Owlette!!” rang through our house, followed by this look that screamed “I thought y’all were smart, but...

Welcome back to my crazy life! I know, I know, you probably just made a face and thought "I mean, how crazy could her life ACTUALLY be?" Well, darling, let me fill you in... on just the last day and a half. [Maybe my life isn't crazy. Maybe I am crazy. Could be. Yeah... totally could be.] It is just shy of three in the morning and here I am, trying to type quietly so I don't wake the irritable toddler that (finally) decided to go to sleep "in mama's bed." The same bed that she has peed in TWICE in the last 36 hours. BTW- never been so happy to have purchased a mattress protector, IN MY WHOLE LIFE. Big girl panties SUCK. So, laundry is the pits and I find myself just wanting to throw everything away, turn our Honda Element into a mini camper and go to the land of 'no sheets allowed' where toddlers walk around naked until they can figure out that they don't like the sensation of warm piss flowing down their formerly chunky legs. Yesterday...

You know, when you are pregnant people think  it is hilarious to send you pictures and videos of massive diaper blowouts. Babies just covered in poop, onesies that will never recover-- no matter how many times they are washed. You also get lovely pictures of toddlers covered in peanut butter or shaving cream, while writing on white walls with a black permanent marker. When I was pregnant I was convinced that my friends and family were trying to torture me with proof of misdeeds by little people.  I think that maybe those pictures and videos helped strengthen my nerves when it came to poop. Luckily, hubs and I never really had to deal with lots of poop or puke. I can count on one hand how many times in her 23 months that Baby K puked all over. Each time it was because she was inhaling her favorite food-- green beans. The explosive puke was traumatic, at the time, but so infrequent that I wasn't even going to write about it.  What I do NOT understand is why no one...

Let's end February with a bang! The first two months of 2018 have been significantly... extra. Baby K has been sick twice-- the January edition of "sick baby" landed us in the doctor's office (story later because mama is still traumatized). I have gone to three memorial services. We have been traveling on the weekend (basketball season) and I am not sure that I actually finished unpacking from our end of the year (2017) trip to Savannah. Y'all, I'm living off of caffeine and bad decision making. Slow down, 2018... no need to drop kick me this early in the year.  In addition to the whirlwind of emotions that come with the above named craziness, I'll tell you what else I have been feeling: judgment. Now listen, BEFORE Baby K I was not really sensitive to the judgment hoisted at me from other people. I didn't really notice it and, frankly, I just didn't care. I still don't care, but I notice the judgment more. I mean, God forbid Baby K fall i...