The Dingaling

I love little kids. I love it when they say absurd things. Their curiosity and enthusiasm for the now mundane things is refreshing. I’m jealous that they get to have tantrums and say what they want. People frown upon that as you get older. Let’s face it watching a 40 year old woman screaming and kicking on the floor because her ice cream is too “melty” is apparently not ok…. sorry again Baskin Robbins….

I love and hate their uncensored honesty. And I especially love watching their personalities come to fruition. When my now 4 year old M was 1, my husband and I were scared that she had no personality. Which if you know her, you know how laughable that thought was. We would play peek a boo, act super silly and nothing. Nothing! And we are pretty funny people, well we like to think so anyway. It was kind of a blow to our self esteem. She just seemed unimpressed with us most of the time. Fast forward a few years and she is probably one of the funniest kids I know. And that says a lot. I like to think she was just studying us back then. I have to give her credit, this girl has the quickest wit and the best one liners.

Like most sleep deprived beings, I like to start my morning with a cup of hot coffee. However, I never get to enjoy it hot. I swear the moment the coffee is done brewing my children can sense that I am excited about something. Maybe it’s the rich aroma of happiness wafting through the air that awakens them, who knows. This particular morning my sweet M comes down and crawls into my lap and burrows her tiny self into my body. I give her a big hug and kiss and say “Good morning love!”

“Good morning mommy.”, she replies with a big yawn and her sweet stinky morning breath. We sit a rock back and forth for a moment before she pops up and grabs my face.

“Mommy?”, she asks.

“Yes M?”, I reply as I take a sip of cold coffee.

“Can I see your dingaling?”, she asks inquisitively.

I start choking. I set my cup down, trying to swallow back my coffee as best I can without it seeping out the corners of my mouth. I finally catch my breath. “What did you say?”, I ask mortified and praying that I misheard her.

“Mommy, I want to see your dingaling!”, she asks again with an air of annoyance.

Now something told me not to react how I wanted to react. Because I’m assuming your mind is where mine was right then. Before I could form a coherent sentence M gives up on me and turns to her father.

“Daddy, let me see your dingaling!” she demands.

My husband’s face fell and froze. I could see the range of thoughts going through his head like mine.

“M, why don’t you show us your dingaling?”, I ask calmly. Trying to suppress my own horror.

“Okay!”, she says gleefully. She then proceeds to open her mouth and points laughing really hard. “See?”, she squeals. “See, it dingalings!!”

Oh my good gracious, thank you Jesus. M had discovered her uvula. So naturally my husband and I obliged and showed her our dingalings as well. She was thrilled. We are still working with her to use the proper name. And don’t worry her school has been notified as well.

Shady Deliveries, A Grocery Tale

I’ve often wondered what I would look like with silver hair. Surprise! I get to see it in full effect now. See, trying to find the positives guys. I think I could totally pull it off. Day 3,216 of quarantine. I’m still out of coffee creamer. I’m starting to feel as bitter as this coffee. We don’t speak ill of the precious! I mean coffee. Anyone else developing a Gollum alter ego? The kids are full on Lord of the Flies now. I’m tired of intervening and am about ready to take bets with my husband, as to which child is going to emerge the victor.

Mommy needs a little, I mean a lot, of quiet time. To, you know, do super exciting things like cleaning, dishes, laundry, crying and online grocery shopping. But alas, I’m summoned most every night by my 5 year old in tears, because I won’t open a magical portal for her to go through, so she can go to Ladybug and Cat Noirs’ world (It’s an anime show on Netflix, no worries I could sense your confusion). I’m super honored that she thinks I have this skill set. I do consider myself a Gryffindor, so I am pretty magical. And I may from time to time turn off and on the living room and kitchen lights using a spell (or an app on my smartphone). So I can see where she gets this idea. I told her to write herself in a story with Ladybug and Cat Person and draw the pictures. She looked at me like I was crazy. Which with this quarantine, I’m pretty certain I’m becoming.

I love the internet. Like, really love it. Want a new outfit and refinance your house? Done! Want that original ET poster and some bigfoot footage? Done! And the Meme’s don’t forget about the Meme’s! I also love the tips people are giving out about how to stay protected nowadays. A friend sent me a picture of this tiny woman using her bra cup as a face mask. It was pretty and fit perfectly around her mouth and nose. I went to my drawer and pulled out one of my old bras and put my face in the cup. Like my entire face fit in my bra cup. I would be the safest person out there. Nothing would get in my mouth, nose or eyes. And as far as social distancing goes, people would just naturally get out of my way, because I’d look pretty creepy and I’m probably about to run into them. So there’s that.

My favorite thing is online grocery shopping. However, I’ve been doing this for years. I am so much better at sticking to my grocery list and budget if I do it this way. Plus there is that suspense after you check the box to allow substitutions. What will you get? I don’t know, you’ll just have to wait and see! Will they substitute a 16 ounces can of refried beans with a 3 pound can? Ohhh boy (rubs hands together with a maniacal grin)!

Now before I tell you this next part I need to clarify a few things. First of all I can’t thank all of the brave first responders enough. All the people fighting this awful virus on the front lines. And lets not forget the people that enable us to stay home safely. The personal shoppers that go out to these crazy stores to get us our food and supplies. I’m grateful. I’m also probably one of the more patient and kind people you will meet. (Except if you are driving like super slow in front of me.) But Kroger, you’re on my list now and that’s not a good place to be. That being said here is my story.

On Wednesday I started an online grocery order to be delivered, from Kroger. I put my address in, chose delivery and then filled and filled my cart in hopes to get at least half of what I picked. Because let’s be realistic here, you’re not going to get everything you ask for and that’s okay. When I was finished I hit submit only to find that they didn’t deliver to my house… Sooo why give me the option. Okay whatever, I called my friend up and asked if I could have them delivered to her house instead. She lives in town, so I knew that’d be a safe bet. See I’m being flexible guys. She said sure thing, so I selected to have them delivered to her house between 3-4 pm on Friday.

So Friday comes and we drive the half hour to her house, because now it’s a family outing. We haven’t been out of the house in weeks, and we wait for an hour in her driveway to intercept the groceries. Well they didn’t show. And they didn’t show until 11:15pm that night. Who the hell is up that late? Okay probably lot’s of people. Don’t worry I sent my family home long before this. But come on Kroger, that’s not cool. As I’m sitting in my black car in my friends driveway, I’m starting to feel really uncomfortable. She lives in a culdesac, that’s not the best lit. Or maybe it is, but there are like a million trees so it’s super dark. And I look pretty scary myself. I have a bandanna around my mouth, don’t worry I didn’t wear my bra over my face. I have on gloves. My makeup is smeared under my eyes from crying, because that’s what I do when I’m mad. Yes I wore makeup, I don’t get out much guys. And my husband’s cowboy hat is sitting in the seat next to me. Begging for me to put it on. I literally looked like I was about to rob a stagecoach. Call me Pearl Heart.

The delivery driver pulled up and sat there for a moment. Maybe she could see me and was scared. Maybe she was debating on making a run for it, I don’t know. I stepped out and opened my trunk giving a friendly wave. She cautiously steps out as well. Don’t worry lady I’m not going to shove you into the back of my car. Social distancing would frown on that.

“Hi!” I say as friendly as I can muster. I take off my mask because I feel ridiculous and stay a safe distance back. “Please don’t be alarmed, that is my friends house, but this is my order. Ya’ll wouldn’t deliver to my house.” She looks at me confused. I guess I didn’t think about this part because it really looks like I am trying to steal someone’s grocery order. I see that now. I guess these are desperate times. I can also see some neighbors peeking out, I guess some people are really awake at this hour.

My answer seemed to appease her and she started to load up my car. Or she just really didn’t care and wanted to get home because it’s crazy late and was thankful I wasn’t a wanna be gunslinger from the 1800’s trying to rob her. “Stick em up and gimmie all the groceries!” Yeah, I can’t pull that off. And don’t worry I didn’t say that out loud. I did say it in my head though.

I finally get home around midnight with my groceries. I haven’t been up this late on purpose in years. The morning is going to be here too soon, hopefully my kids will let me sleep in (7 a.m. woot!). I know that’s not going to happen. However, I did get some kind of coffee creamer, and did I mention a 3 pound can of refried beans?

Hairy Situations with a Side of Streaking

I don’t know if this is normal for everyone else, but I have to completely prepare myself the night before for outings the next day. Going out into public with my three (O is 5, M is 3 and C is 20 months) is insane. I often feel like I’m preparing for battle. Coffee maker is ready. I have the clothes laid out, ready to go. The shoes are by the door. The diaper bag is fully stocked with the essentials and snacks of course, to help the hangry melt downs. Water bottles are ready to be filled and I have in mind what breakfast is going to be. I have them covered, but I can’t tell you how many times I’ve left myself uncovered. Bra, what bra?? Damn it! But come on this is motherhood. No matter how prepared we try to be things are always chaotic. Or is that just me?

I called my mother today on my way home from the girl’s haircuts and had the discussion of, is this normal or just my circus? When we get to the salon I find a parking space right by the front door! Score, one it is a 100 degrees out and two I don’t have to dodge other cars with the kids. I get the kids inside and run into my first obstacle, the giant glass bowl of mints. O runs right up and dives her hand in.

“One! Just one!” I yelp as I’m hanging onto M by the armpit, as she decides to go limp and dump out her Daniel Tiger backpack full of ABC blocks in the elegant entryway. On the other side I have my hand tight around C’s leash. Okay, time out, don’t get high and mighty with me. C is wearing a super cute bright pink butterfly back pack, that she loves, and it just so happens to have a little leash attached on the back of it. She gets the feeling of freedom running around and I get the feeling of reassurance she won’t get hit by a car. Win win.

O gives me a furrowed brow and grabs a couple mints. “One is for M!” she justified. A nice older gentleman sees my peril and helps M put her blocks back in her bag. I sincerely thank him and make my way back outside to the court yard to my stylist suite. The one thing I have going for me, is that it’s a small courtyard with no other exits. It has a beautiful water fountain in the middle and lots of pretty plants. The other suites have big windows looking out into the yard. When we get there, the girls excitedly move into her suite. Shoes are taken off, The Grinch is starting on the IPad and snacks are being distributed. O quickly unwraps her mint and shoves it in her mouth and climbs up into the chair. Everyone is engaged and being good. So I stupidly take a relaxed breath. You know what that means.

As I’m watching O get three inches of her hair cut off, I hear a big gush of water followed by a startled tiny scream. My stylist and I both jumped and turned around to see M standing at the shampoo bowl on the chair, being pummeled with water by the hose. The stylist quickly turned off the water and I assessed the damage. M looked like she just took a causal stroll through a car wash. So I stripped her down to her pull-up and cowgirl boots, and mopped up the mess. In the meantime as I’m wiping up the floor, I notice C isn’t watching The Grinch. In fact she isn’t in the suite at all. Shit! My heart starts to race once again and before I can completely panic I see the end of the pink leash stuck in the door. I run over to the door and look out. She is leaning forward like she is flying, being supported by the entrapped leash. I grab the end and open the door. She is quite pleased with herself for escaping, well kind of, during the chaos. Sometimes I wonder if these two plan these moments.

I pick up C and set her back by the movie. Then I turn around to see a naked toddler in a pull-up and cowgirl boots run by, giggling uncontrollably. Wait, NO!!! That’s my naked cowgirl giggling toddler! I run out into the courtyard to get her and of course she thinks this is the best game ever. As I’m chasing her I can see people coming to the windows laughing really hard at this spectacle. I finally catch her and M says “Yay mommy you did it! I’m so proud of you!” Thanks M. We finally make it through the haircuts. Did I mention my stylist is a saint for putting up with us? As I’m trying to pay, C is rearranging all the product on the shelves. M is trying to climb the chair to get a cup of coffee and O is just staring in the mirror, posing with her fabulous new hair style.

We make it all the way to the entrance with no more incidents and I think we are in the home stretch, I mean I can see the car out front, when M takes off for the stairs. Did I forget to mention that M is still only wearing a pull-up and cowgirl boots during all of this? O see’s the giant glass bowl of mints and heads over to grab some more. I start after M, as I’m yelling “No more mints O!” However I forget that I have a small little person attached to me by a leash and starting dragging her along with me. The receptionist jumps up to help me out and grabs M, as I’m trying to help up poor little confused C.

“Please let me help you out to your car. I see you have your hands full.” the receptionist said kindly.

“Thank you so much and you have no idea.” I replied.

The Dehydrated Philosopher

I initially wrote this story for my four-year-old a while back. After her sisters have arrived, I’ve found the content to remain just as true today. These past four years have been hard, sticky and amazing. As other people would say, I’m in the thick of it. Even though they give me anxiety attacks, I wouldn’t have done anything differently.

Personally, I’m grateful I had my kids in my 30’s. My 20’s were so fun living with my girlfriends, dating the wrong guys and traveling all over the place. However, I would be lying if I said I wasn’t envious of a younger mama’s energy level and stamina.

I had my children close together, almost two years between the oldest and middle and less than a year and a half between the latter. This can be extremely challenging at times, but again I wouldn’t have it any other way. I always find it odd when people react to the closeness. “Are they twins?” “No they are not actually!” Then comes the judgmental facial expressions saying you know what causes this right… In my head I kindly respond “Sorry Linda let me go back in time and ensure there’s more of a gap to please you.” Anyway, they play and fight so well together it warms my heart.

So for any of you in similar situations, feeling the stresses of motherhood pounding you into the ground. Here is to you mama! I see you! You are doing a great job! Hang in there! This isn’t easy. Whether you are young or of “advanced maternal age”, have 1 kid or 6, we are all in this together. It takes a village, patience, a little wine and a lot of prayer. We are in the thick of it but we will power through!

To My Dearest Toddler with Love,

My beautiful daughter, I have decided today was a day worth reliving with you. I am very excited about this. We are going to have the most exciting adventure. In 30 years, I’m going to come stay with you. Exciting, I know. I haven’t decided if I will bring your father with me on this adventure. I may take this one solo, however it would be a blast to do this with him.

I will promptly arrive for dinner via Uber or whatever a popular shuttling service for the elderly we have then. I will greet you with a great big hug and then ignore you completely and sit in your living room watching TV. You will tell me multiple times that dinner is ready. I will continue to ignore you until you have to come in and turn off the TV. Then I will be shocked and excited that dinner is ready. I will find my seat and not like it. I will make you switch places with me and take your fork and give you mine because I know yours has to be better. After a fun game of musical chairs, you will find that I am grossly disgusted at what you’ve cooked, refuse to eat it and beg you for cheese. Then I will proceed to give the cheese to your dog and ask for a cookie. What’s that, you don’t have any cookies? Whip some up NOW! This tantrum isn’t going anywhere any time fast so you may as well cave and make it happen.

When you are only half way through dinner, I will inform you that I have to use the potty. However, I need you to sit by me on the floor and read books while I try to poop. You will likely lose your appetite, but I don’t mind, dinner was gross anyway. No reason to worry, I will enjoy your company.

As you try to clean the kitchen I will demand that it’s time to take a bubble bath. As you kindly draw my bubble bath, I harass you from behind declaring you will not turn off the faucet. I require the water up to the top of the tub. I will splash around like a deranged sea otter for about a half hour until my water is ice cold. I will attempt to convince you that I’m fine and it’s warm whilst realizing that I have to use the potty yet again and leave your toilet seat soaking wet as well as your toilet paper roll. This will be an incredibly fun surprise for you in the middle of the night. The walls and floor will be covered in water as well. I will do everything in my power to miss all the towels that you have carefully placed all over the floor.

After a bath I would like to squirt out half a tube of toothpaste and argue with you that it’s not enough. Once I have my desired amount, I will turn on the faucet and rinse it off completely because your toothpaste is too spicy. I will then decide I don’t want to brush my teeth at all. Next I will proceed to run around naked through your house while you try to put pajamas on me. This will be quite a show for your neighbors. Fair warning, you may want to shut the curtains beforehand. Good luck! Once dressed and ready for bed I will be hungry again. Do you have any more of that cheese? Or cookies would be okay.

Once you’ve explained why we eat all our food at dinner and shouldn’t eat at bed time, I will firmly hand you a stack of 25 books I’ve carefully picked out for you to read me. Don’t you dare skip pages! I will know.

Tuck me in, say my prayers and turn off the light. Then I will call for you because I have turned into a dehydrated philosopher. I need water and as you arrive with my refreshment, I will ask you all sorts of questions to delay my actual bedtime and preventing you from accomplishing anything for the evening. Oh and by the way, I need a new pillow, this one is weird. The one you have on your bed will do just fine. And can you please take that picture off the wall, they are looking at me.

About 2 a.m. I will crawl in bed with you, but you should know I like to sleep sideways with my feet in your face. It makes me feel closer to you. At about 6 a.m. (if you are lucky) I will wake you up demanding more cheese and the use of your phone so I can watch the Wiggles and blast their charming music in your ear until you get up to get me that cheese we talked about earlier. After my breakfast, you will likely look like someone the government interrogated for 72 hours straight and will be ready for me to go back to my house. So I will happily sit in the back seat of your car singing at the top of my lungs and kicking your seat as hard as I can. As you try to keep your cool and ask me repeatedly to stop. I may scream and cry for no reason at all, from time to time. When we get to my house I will give you with the biggest smile, warmest hug and sweetest kiss and you will forget all the misery I put you through. Because that is what we do.

I know that I will miss these moments someday, but I find comfort knowing you will have to go through this as well. I’m reminded of this when I call my Mom, tell her the adventures of the day and on the other end of the phone all I hear is laughter. “That sounds about right!”

So dear daughter of mine, please remember I will always love you and be here for you. Love you kiddo!