In for surprises

As a mom very few things shock me. My son peed in the small trash can in his room once. I was surprised and disappointed, but not shocked. Many things my children do make me raise my eyebrows. Here are a few that have surprised me the most:

How little my daughter resembles me

Maybe I was expecting a carbon copy of myself, like my husband got when our son was born, but my daughter doesn't resemble me at all. She is much more beautiful to the point I am stunned we are related. When she made her debut into the world, I wondered where those bright blue eyes came from and now that she is 10 months old, I still don’t see any resemblance.

Breathing easier

Should smoking in the car with kids be illegal? Find out what I think in my latest mommynearst.com article.

I was young when I begun

Home alone with two kids. One is rolling on the floor, eating her doggie toy. The other is taking a nap, I think. There is a God.

No man can hinder me. Until a three-year-old, does.

At the grocery store, somewhere between the produce and milk, he screams incessantly. In. My. Face. 

If you want to find your way to God, disengage.

I strum my fingers on the handle of the cart, concentrating on yogurts – Greek or whipped? – while the volcano, erupts. How much for a taxi ride to purgatory?

I am held hostage by a belligerent toddler who fought nap time and real food all day. He begged for gummy worms – a thundering voice from such a small being – stopping shoppers in their tracks. The baby girl in back of him, the one in her car seat just watched with her big blue eyes. Captivated. I’m sure she was taking notes. Sister is not old enough to talk yet. Scream, she can do well. But that was not her mood at that moment.

Early morning folds into the lunch hour, time ticks by slowly when I’m alone with them.

I was young when I begun.

Afternoon, evening, until their heads hit the pillow and eyes close, I am sweet and understanding. His flip out in the grocery store, has drifted away like his mind off into dream land.

I still feel, though, I am losing it with these two.

Love bites

I wrote a piece for a national parenting website www.mommynearest.com. Click the link below to read my essay on how I nipped my son's bad biting behavior in the bud.

Saved by the dog

"Since when do we put a hot pot on the countertop without a trivet?

I am speechless. It is lecture time and “I didn’t mean too,” I say, when I am really thinking, big whoop. But I don’t say a word and he rants on. This and that. That and this.

Present day

“It’s your birthday today,” I said to the little one dressed in Santa-hat pajamas.

“Do I get presents?” he asked, calculating his reaction to the news.

The question was not a shock, more of a given. The entire month of November had consisted of birthday build-up, starting with a frenzy of gifts in the mail and multiple parties.

“Yes, a big one,” I said.

The Band-Aid bandit

There is a fascination in my house with Band-Aids.

They cover up cuts, scrapes, mosquito bites, even the slightest reddish imperfections. They heal us when we are feeling blue and lift our spirits when we need it the most. They are the cure to what ails us in one tiny little strip.

At the supermarket, my son and I spend a good deal of time in the Band-Aid isle, choosing between Snoopy and Bob the Builder. This is an important decision – one he does not take lightly. He picks a box, then changes his mind, staring at it, until he’s ready for a new picture in his hands.

Suddenly he has a boo boo, right there among the anticeptics and cotton balls.