3-year-old comes to bedside and says…

“Mother, my diaper is JACKED UP. You need to fix it!”…

SO many things wrong with that sentence…

First off, “Mother”? Really? You’re 3 years old. (Ok, soon to be 4 but whatever). And you’re calling me “Mother”? What happened to “Momma” or “Mommy”?

Secondly… “Jacked up”? You seriously just said that?

Lastly… you’re three years old and still wearing diapers?… something’s not right here!

Lord help me.

My kid will NOT potty train. He is deathly afraid of it. Not sure why. He will not tell me except that he is afraid of the toilet. We try and try. He wears chonnies (underwear) and LEAKS in them the entire time. I check him every minute and then all of sudden he’s just “damp”. Then he just full-on pees in them. It’s like he leaks non-stop and doesn’t even think about it. He has no consciousness of the PEEING-NESS of it all.

Sit him on the toilet 10,126 times and NOTHING happens. The minute you get him off and into chonnies (or pull-ups)… HE PEES! Not even kidding. THE MINUTE. He is 3! GOING ON FOUR! I don’t even know what to do anymore.

Rewards? *Scoff!”
Major cheering and praise? *Means nothing*
Threats? *Whatever Mom*

He doesn’t even fit into diapers anymore! They leave marks on his sides from being too tight. Ridicule? Peer pressure?… Doesn’t even phase him…

OMG. I’m going to have a kid in diapers forever….

Now, off to crawl into bed with an already sleeping 3.5 year-old who is too scared to sleep in his own bed….

Check.

Tomorrow… 6:30AM “wake up call” from the 2-year-old…

UGH. With a capital “U”.

Lesson learned?

Probably not.

An average day for me consists of…
… Meals
… Poop
… Disobedience
… Discipline
… More poop
… Cleaning
… Lather, rinse, repeat

It’s a good day when I actually take a shower and brush my teeth. It’s a damn good day if I put on makeup and actually leave the house. It’s the best day EVER when my 2.5-year-old is not having meltdowns and slamming doors every five minutes.

In case you aren’t privy to this fact, I’m a new(ish) stay-at-home Mom, going on 3 months now. I’ve tried to avoid writing this post, for fear of judgement, but to continue to hide away the sadness, isolation and anger I’ve been feeling this past month is not only unfair to myself, but also to my children. However, because this is deeply personal I’m going to require that you are registered and logged in to read the rest of it…

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But seriously, let’s just say that today was “one of them days!”. I’m learning (the hard way) that toddlers cannot be entertained with a DVD for a “few moments”, while Mom squirrels away to do some graphic work on the computer. Because even though it’s relatively quiet on the other side of that office door, total secret mayhem is actually taking place in your living room. This time the havoc came via an entire bag of potato chips turned upside down and spread throughout the living room (I still curse the day that Quentin learned how to open the pantry door). Also, a torn off diaper and lovely poop trails scattered down the hall. I really should have taken a picture, you’d have been much entertained! In their defense, what was supposed to take a few minutes ended up taking MUCH longer (not even sure how long, I lost track of time) because I was having serious technical difficulties. But, we live and learn, right? Next time, I’ll just have to wait until after their bed time before I decide to go all “Office Space” with that piece of you-know-what printer that keeps eating my freakin’ labels. So much for doing productive personal stuff during the day. I guess I must resign myself to the fact that my kids 0wn m3. If I could just come to terms with the fact that this life is truly now “my job” and that I’m not just on vacation! And God, if you could just send me a tiny bit more of that magical stuff called “patience” (or a valium). KTHXBYE.

It has been an action filled week and I do believe my Mom may second guess herself the next time she says “you and the boys should come down and stay with us for a few days”. My kids have been monsters and that’s putting it nicely. Turns out they don’t do so well away from home. Oh well, practice makes perfect I say! They gotta get used to staying with Grandma/Grandpa so Daddy and I can have some much needed (but seldom received) adult time (/end day dream).

I was lucky enough to have my hair done today. Hello! I am now a hipster! Good-bye Mom hairdo! It’s short and dark! A few random blonde highlights in the very front. It will be a trip to wash in the shower tomorrow. Tonight was super cool. My aunt Elvia came over to watch “Confessions of a Shopaholic”. Boy do I relate to that movie! I think ANYONE with an addictive personality can relate to that movie. The kids both went down without much of a fight. Who could ask for more? (Me! More wine please!).

My Mom took Quentin to two quick stores today, she came back somewhat frazzled (and I quote one of her phrases, “He is SO not a joy to take shopping”). Then I went for my haircut and what did I encounter when I returned almost four hours later? A totally brain dead Grandma. Both Grandparents could hardlly wait for me to get back. They complained of temper tantrums, constantly cleaning up messes, blowout diapers, toddlers with feisty dispostions. Me? Yeah, welcome to my world bitches! (Ok, I totally would never say that. But I was thinkin’ it!). Share in the pain. Love it. Feel it. This is what what we all signed up for! You are grandparents. We are parents. Feel the burn.

For THREE AND A HALF HOURS a less than gentle dentist did unmentionable things to one sad & weathered little molar. Excuse me Mr. Dentist? What did that molar ever do to you?

Now that all the yanking, pulling and merciless drilling is over, I sit here (Vicodin on tap) with a sore face & downtrodden heart. Damn you karma! This is all about that piece of Brach’s caramel I stole from the grocery store when I was six years old, isn’t it?!

Lesson learned: take better care of your teeth, see a dentist regularly, and maybe you’ll never have to GIVE someone $800.00 to perform chinese torture in your mouth.

While I’ve been spendings my days doing all sort of things ranging from cleaning, cooking, and picking up toys, it seems the majority of my energy is spent on two MAIN tasks. That would be changing dirty diapers (like ten bizillion times a day) and cleaning up food/crumbs from the floors. Oh, and also rushing to wipe up juice spills. Because explaining to a toddler that you “gotta keep your sippy cup UPRIGHT”, for the 8th time in one day, is like banging your head against a wall for the fun of it. My kids seem to be especially ornery these days too. I think they’re more effected by the change than expected. They probably miss going to daycare and playing with the other kids. I’m sure they’re sick of seeing Mom in her pajamas and no make-up, just as much as I’m sick of them slamming doors and pushing every-ever-lovin’ button on the entertainment system all day long.

Alas, this week is almost over and Dad will soon be off his work schedule to join in on the parental fun. It’s always so much harder when it’s 2 against 1, versus each of us working with one kid at a time. However, judging from some of the situations hubby has had on his own lately… (i.e. How do you negotiate with a toddler to get them to UNLOCK the door while you’re trapped in the garage in your boxer shorts? Especially since said toddler is the one who locked you out to begin with?)… Yeah, pray for us both.

As much as I ranted about bosslady (aka: TDWSH – if you read my old blog you know what that stands for!), I sort of miss being her admin. All of the ass-chewing aside, most of the time I felt important, needed, talented even! I know I should feel all of that with my kids, and I do! But it’s still hard. Being unemployed is the weirdest feeling! Talk about isolation city! I’ve worked since I was 16 years old. I know I’ll get over it. I gotta give myself time to “grieve”, it’s only been one week. Yeesh, two months ago I would have NEVER expected myself to say that! Me? Missing my job? I was hanging by the last thread, somewhere in between insanity, exhaustion, and seriously NOT having fun anymore. I could hardly wait to blow that popsicle stand! Now- I’m a sad little cupcake, missing my importantness. (I know that’s not even a real word, get over it.)