Monday, December 9, 2013

Mommy Martial Law (Pinterest Parenting Fail #2)

The excitement of the holiday season can bring smiles, laughter, joy and moments you want to remember forever.

The change in routine, however, can also turn your adorable little toddlers into screaming little dictators with a short man syndrome more contagious than yawing.

Holy snot buckets, y'all.  They may all 3 weigh less, combined, than my left boob, but when they gang up on you, it means war.  Okay, maybe not my left boob (sorry Thelma).  If my left boob weighed 80 lbs, it would  be dragging on the ground - OMG the visual - and that would be weird and people would notice. Andmyboobsaresymtricalthankyouverymuch.

Anyway.

After the tree debacle of 2012, I was determined that this year wouldn't be a repeat.  So, after perusing Pinterest for baby safe tree decorating ideas, I stocked up on soft and shatterproof ornaments, cool touch led lights, and ribbons to use instead of hooks.   Because Christmas is to be experienced, damn it!

This was the end result.
Eat your heart out, Martha

You see that broken curtain rod?  Yeah, that.  It came down, permanently, with the third (of 4 times total) time that itty bitty curly headed princess in the background yanked off yet another ornament.  There is a picture outfit hanging off the remaining piece of the rod holder thingy because The Firefighter likes to hang things off of every available hanging whatchamacallit he can find.  Except hangers, you know, in the closet. Because apparently that would be more effort than walking around the house looking spots to hang shit.

Ahem.  Anyways.

Not but moments after I snapped this handy dandy iPhone pic (maybe someday I will get a real camera -though I'm not holding my breathe seeing as how I'm married to broke ass fireman!), Miss Chatterbox took her new found scissor skills to the beaded garland to divide it up for her and her sisters to play with.

OMG.  While I appreciate the sharing sentiment and problem solving skills.... IwillnotraisebratsIwillnotraisebratsIwillnotraisebrats.

We are currently operating under Mommy Martial Law.  Their little hineys are wearing out the Timeout Mat because they are some stubborn little beans.  Though truthfully, they are mostly wearing me out.  Two days in and they are showing no signs of surrender!  These are the no fun, stinky, OMG-is-it-bedtime-yet moments of parenting, were you have to hold your ground, when it would be so much easier, and a few decibels quieter, to go with the whole "pick your battles" philosophy and ignore minor infractions.  But every now and then, they must be reminded that you are the parent, you are the boss, and they must listen to and respect you or it will completely suck for them.  

Oh yeah, and the idea floating around Pinterest that Mr. Jolly Jingle Butt (our daily renamed elf on the shelf) can help with discipline....Ha ha, yeah, not with the 4 and under crowd.  PSA, people, don't waste your time!!




I'm going to leave you with a very blurry picture of the Fireball Whiskey Firetruck from last nights parade.  It's like two parts of my life smushed into one!  Can you imagine the 911 calls if firetrucks delivered fireball?  Hello, hello operator, I have an emergency.  I'm too sober.  Send the fireball truck immediately!  

Happy Monday, Y'all!







Wednesday, December 4, 2013

12 Days of Pinterest Fails - Day 1

Last night, The Firefighter and I took the kids to the Festival of Lights.  We saw the lights, rode the carousel, met Santa and roasted marshmallows.

It was freaking funtabulicous!  (Lovely word, isn't it?  It's going to be the next *amazing!* Let's make it happen, y'all!) Seriously.  I just adore how magical Christmas is for the kids.

Miss Chatterbox was in awe of the Big Guy in Red. In fact, she was practically speechless.  Though, only for the duration of her visit with him. The Bun was a little unsure, but warmed up and Jellybean thought he was the bees knees.  I loved all the pictures so much, I ponied up the extra money to get the flash drive with ALL the pictures.

Here is one of my favs.

Baby Jazz Hands!


This is my other favorite!  This Santa is the shit. 

She farted on me.  I can't believe it.  Can I give her back, yet?  

My kids wore out Santa in less than 5 minutes.  Pictures don't lie, y'all.   That must be a record or something.  

Anywho, I noticed something while waiting in line. All the parents, with more than 1 kid, had either matching or coordinating Christmas outfits.  Seriously?  I did not get this memo. I would say who does that, but, apparently, all of Pinterest ALREADY KNEW.  There are whole board dedicated to family coordinating Santa's lap pictures.  I need a rule book for this shit!  I thought I was doing well just to keep them in individual outfits that actually weren't stained and went together.  You should see the getups they wear regularly!  This was an outdoor festival at a county park, people, not pictures at a photography studio! 

Bah humbug. 

Next, we roasted marshmallows.  Except Miss Chatterbox didn't like, "all the burnined parts, momma, will you eat that part right there for me? And that part too?  You missed a part, momma."  

I am now adding *burnt layer marshmallow eater* to my resume.  It's right below *my shirt is a snot rag* and *ABC food throw awayer.*  It's a tough life, y'all.  

Then there was this moment...
Screecher Creature


That is Jellybean throwing a colossal fit on the dirt below the picnic table we were eating our marshmallows at.  She was unhappy that I wouldn't let her eat the apple slice she just drug around in the gravel.  Oh the horror, right!  So, I did what any good parent would.  I took a picture, then ignored her completely, much to the dismay of nearby spectators.  Momma don't play this game and I will cut a mean side eye to anyone who tries to interfere.  Holla. 

In the few moments I was dealing with Little Miss Crabby Patty, The Firefighter managed to convince Miss Chatterbox and The Bun to go talk to the some minor league Hockey Players who were there signing autographs.  Except The Firefighter found it amusing to get Miss Chatterbox to ask a player's girlfriend (who was sitting at the autograph table) what position she plays...

MC - Hi!  What position do you play?

GF - Oh, I don't play.  He does. 

MC - (disinterested glance at boy) Why not?  You don't like boys?  

The Firefighter - (laughcoughsnortchucklecough) 

Boys are so juvenile. 



Happy Wednesday and Ho Ho Ho!









Tuesday, December 3, 2013

Pinterest, You Suck.

You know, our parents had it so easy at Christmas time when we were little!  All they had to do was slap up a tree, decorated some cookies, and voila, Christmas.

Now, in the age of Pinterest parenting, there's felt toddler trees, elaborate gingerbread mansions,  snowflake chains,  magazine worthy decorations, Elf on the Shelf and if you're not doing all these things you're doing it wrong.  

Well, Bah Humbug, ya Martha Stewart wannabes.   Do you have any idea how hard it is to decorate when everything must be at least 4 feet off the floor or it will be destroyed and you have not a crafty bone in your body?  No, you wouldn't ya stinking crafty people.  

And the only toddler friendly solutions I found on all the internets was to block the tree and keep the kids out of it.  

Really?  That misses the point, entirely.  Christmas is an experience, not a picture.  So, no, I will not be gating off my tree, despite my vivid memories of the great tree collapse of 2012, because every kid should know what it's like to get caught sneaking candy canes off the upper branches because they brought it crashing to the ground, damn it. 

Instead, I will be present you with a series of posts called - The Half-Assed Guide to Christmas.  I will include the exploits of Mr. Jolly Toots (our Elf on the Shelf), as well as our Charlie Brown tree and redneck gingerbread tepee's and a couple of other Pinterest fails.   I guarantee it will make you laugh and feel better about your own Christmas skillz. 

Mr. Jolly Toots's grand re-entry. 

Happy Tuesday, y'all. 









Monday, December 2, 2013

Real Men Watch Soap Operas...or So He Says

The Firefighter and I cut the cord on cable about 4 years ago and never looked back.  We aren't big TV people.  We watch, maybe, 4 hours a week, combined.  And that's being generous.

Don't get me wrong.  We aren't anti-TV.  In fact, there is nothing better than a mind numbing action flick when I need to find some zoned out zen after a tough day in the toddler potty training trenches.  Nothing removes the poo stench from my brain like killing some zombies.  You know what I mean?

Now, The Firefighter and I have similar tastes in TV and movies.  My particular favs this season are Sleepy Hollow and the Blacklist.  I LOVE James Spader.  I particularly like that I can't predict his next move, and OMG, wouldn't it be exciting to have a criminal mastermind for a daddy, that I don't know is my daddy, who fast tracks my career and let's me travel the world in his personal jet?  No? Okay, maybe not for realz, but you get my drift.

While The Firefighter likes Blacklist, he's not as crazy about it as I am.  Instead, he has discovered
McLeod's Daughters.


I would not expect you to be familiar with this show.  Why not?  Think Days of our Lives, but on an Australian Ranch in the outback and that ranch is run by a bunch of catty women.

That's right.  Mister Macho Run Into Burning Building On the Regular has become seriously infatuated with an Australian daytime soap opera.   Like watch at least one episode a night kind of obsessed.

Seriously.  I shit you not.  Mah Boo, who made me sit though The Hangover, Balls of Steel, and Pacific Rim is in LOVE with this show.

I hate it.  It's STOOPID. I can't stand catty bitches in real life, I'm certainly not going to go out of my way to watch them on TV.

Want to know the worst part?  This show ran for 9 seasons.  9!!  And the Aussies don't mess around, y'all.  There are 30, 55 minute episodes PER season.   So basically, I'm stuck watching this ridiculousness for at least 11 months.  

Sigh.  Good thing he's cute.

Happy Monday, y'all!