That Mom

So today I had a revelation- nothing terribly exciting- I didn't redesign the cloth diaper to wash itself, or anything truly helpful. I was just driving to the park and thinking about this long a-s-s week, and realized that all of a sudden I'm THAT MOM. You know, the one that other people look at with pity? No, just kidding. The mom that is always toting around a diaper bag, is adept at picking up a toddler who just dove headfirst off the play structure platform while the baby is in the carrier, and doesn't bat an eye when projectile vomit makes an entrance. The one that even schools another mom who is allowing her ten year old to run through the playground full of toddlers with a sharpened stick (I blame Hunger Games. I would blame Lord of the Flies but no one reads it anymore!) plowing little kids over. Really lady? Get off your phone and note that your child is leaving a wailing trail of small children in his path (expect my kid- he thought it was pretty funny); don't act surprised when I point this out. She got sort of snotty until I asked for her name and address so I knew where to send the medical bills for when my kid gets rushed to Mass Eye and Ear because she can't tell her son to stop. Snarky, yes. For the greater good though. There was a collective sigh of relief when they left. Wait, back to my revelation. I just might have turned into the mom I loved to hate. No, I still don't have healthy homemade snacks for my kid, but I did remember a camera, baby wipes, antiseptic wash for M's constantly skinned knees, and my phone. Which I used to ask another mom to bring a blanket for my shivering infant. I can't remember EVERYTHING. So far this week my toddler has smeared multiple servings of "chock-late" ice cream on his face, visited sea creatures, goats, chickens, and even touched a snake. We've been the park multiple times, celebrated birthdays, taken tubbies, and are still standing. Barely. He's actually asleep, which is good, because tomorrow we do it again- animals, running, lunch, ice cream. We'll load up the generic mom SUV and hit the road again.

That said, how many days are left before daycare reopens?

Yeah. I don't think so.

There are four different types of bullying- since y'all aren't actually sitting in my psych class today I will spare you the rest of the power point- and it's prevalent in our society, many times without even realizing it. One of my students was really into giving examples of what is bullying vs. what isn't. I certainly am not an expert, but as an employ of a public school system I am pretty savvy. We are constantly on the lookout for behavior that can be termed bullying, especially when it comes from the world of everyone's favorite timesucker  social networking site, Facebook. Yes, it's outside of school, but yes, it's still my responsibility to be aware of it, and report it. What struck me this week however was how bullying is evident in all phases of life. We may call it something different- maybe you have a friend that's "headstrong", "domineering", "a control freak"- but really, they can tend to be bullies. Hell, I am pretty sure that I have inadvertently bullied someone else in my life time- not on purpose, but let's be real. Last week I saw it first hand. One person says one thing, somebody else jumps in, and then more and more people are throwing around their opinions. That's great, the more the merrier! And then comes THAT person. The one that puts things out there as the end all, be all. In my world, the sanctimommy. Again, I can handle that. Until you use inflammatory language that does nothing but instill fear and generate a knee-jerk response. Yeah, that's my deal breaker. I don't give a hoot what you are actually saying, no one is going to hear it, simply because of word choice. That's the line. Don't poke it, tiptoe over it, nothing- at least, not when I'm around. I was FLAMING. Hopping mad. Angry. Irate. Breathing fire. I was really ready to say things that would potentially have me banned from social networking until 2020- but then I drank a little more wine (hey it might have been kosher but it still did the trick!) and tried to exercise restraint. Which I sort of did, at least publicly.

I guess I'm that mom- loud, brash, and a little wacky- but totally the one you want in your corner.

Please sir, may I have some more?

I feel like one of the street urchins in Oliver. STARVING. I am so hungry I would eat my arm but I don't know how many calories it has, and there isn't a listing for it on myfitnesspal. If we are being clear, she is NOT my pal. Yes, she is a woman, and she's a bitch. Snarking at me all the time. "You are over your calorie goal". No shit. Obviously I am over my calorie goal, I am not blind. I get dressed every morning and am reminded that I eat too much. Food tastes delicious. It's  yummy. Hash browns taste far more delicious than the Wake-up Crap, I mean wrap, I ate this morning. I need the R & D team at Dunkin' to get on a smokehouse sausage breakfast sandwich with 75 calories and no fat. They would make MILLIONS. Perhaps even BILLIONS. And exercise? The stupid thing does not recognize breathing as exercise! Or sleeping! I snore, that MUST be burning calories? What about pushing a double stroller? Give me some credit there lady! I actually dreamt about bacon.

I lost three pounds though. Guess she's my pal after all. At least, for now.

Pediatricians

Now, you all know how much I love my pediatrician. He basically walks on water. They ALWAYS get me in, and are super nice to boot. I think Miles has a little crush on Erin, one of the nurses. He giggles and turns red when she comes in to see him. This week I saw a little too much of them. Three visits total. One scheduled, two sick visits. Yeah, that's a lot, especially over three days. The "well visits" i.e. the ones I don't have to pay for since insurance companies like your kids to be vaccinated, was a HOT MESS. I even used that term when talking with the doctor and he put it in my chart along with a definition because he hadn't heard it. Really? All those other moms MUST be lying. I took both boys to have their four month and 30 month checkups. I will never do that again, at least, not without backup. You see, my toddler can open the doors with the lever handles. Which resulted in his little naked self busting out into the nurses station and doing a jig. My boys are so petite they get weighed with nothing on. My offspring is petite. Shocking, I know, given the astounding shape their parents are in. Hell, round is a shape, right? So M is doing his little naked toddler dance as Shrimp is freaking out because he doesn't like being naked. Needless to say the nurse had to bring M back in for me. We managed to contain the chaos while I was TRYING to talk to the doc about my concerns. I finally barricaded the door with the chair and trash barrel. We were in the home stretch until it came time for Shrimp's vaccinations (I am a vaccinating mama- with being a teacher and both boys in daycare, I just can't bring myself to leave them in the wind). M took one look at those needles and started attacking his beloved Erin the nurse. Full out, kicking, screaming, scratching. I was pretty much restraining him as he screamed "NO! HURT! BROTHER!" which was adorable in and of itself, but no so helpful at the time. Finally got everyone clothed and out the door after an hour (and my pediatrician was with me the whole time, because he ROCKS) and of course, M wouldn't get in the carseat. Full blown tantrum in the parking lot. Shrimp screaming because he's sore and hungry, and M, well, he's two. What the hell do toddlers even think? I just don't know. Then nurse Erin came out. The one that M had just recently gone all exorcist on- she took one look at him and he was in his seat smiling, flirting, blushing. Thank god for nurses, and cute ones to boot. Luckily the next two visits this week were for the puking, croup-y infant, with no toddler in tow. Everyone is fine now, but it was a pretty ugly few days.

Lord, I can't wait to go back to work tomorrow. High schoolers are SO much easier.

Daylight Saving Time Revisited

So awhile back I had some very definite feelings about daylight saving time. Feel free to check out that tirade here. Today however, I am feeling the love! An extra hour of daylight! Sunshine! Daydreams! Puppy dogs and rainbows! It didn't hurt that it was a gorgeous day and hubs had coffee for the first time. He was like the energizer landscaper, unleashing his energy on scraggly trees and leaves. Granted, now we have yet another pile of trees that need a home. My yard is like a really fancy playset except all the climbing apparatus (apparati?) are trees. I took a nap, got errands done- we even had dinner with friends (yes, we have friends. My snarky nature hasn't driven everyone away. Yet.) and everything was hunky dorey, until Mr. M decided to have a total "I haven't napped in two days and ran around the yard for three hours and am covered in dirt" meltdown. Into the tub, and into the bed. The first time in DAYS he hasn't screamed and hollered upon placement in his crib. I even got away with NOT reading the "Wheels on the Bus" for the three millionth time. He went to bed at 7:30 which is really 6:30, and for one night it will be fine. We'll have to bump him back to 6:30 bedtimes though because he won't be up tomorrow morning, and it's tough enough to get the three of us out the door on Monday mornings without him being asleep until the last minute. Not such a big deal, I got that covered. The nicest part of this spring ahead stuff? Shrimp and daddy slept in- it was the cutest thing- Shrimp was all stretched out on my side of the bed next  to his daddy. Miles and I got coffee, donuts, cleaned the kitchen, AND put away all the laundry before either of them stirred.

The best part of DST? Miles woke up at a socially acceptable time on the weekend. It was amazing. He slept until 6:01 am, new time. That felt SO much more reasonable than 5:01 am. It's all smoke and mirrors, but I'll take it.

Competent in Snark

So today I got to go to an amazing inservice training. I know, those words don't typically go together, but this one was really great. It was basically about how ignoring differences between people is just as bad as being prejudiced. You can't learn anything if you don't recognize that obviously we all have different experiences. We watched the clip from "The Family Stone" where SJP manages to insult numerous people at the table by asking questions that seem fairly logical- except it wasn't the right time or place. Pretty damn funny actually. As a teacher, you have to walk a fine line between questioning and judging, and it's like that in your real world too, especially in your village. I tend to get in trouble there, because I do have a tendency to resort to snarkiness. For example, on a post asking for great, easy, recipes, my standard response is "Grab phone. Dial". While amusing, and most people "get" me, I could totally see how that would piss people off. Cultural competence has sort of replaced the concept of political correctness in my view. How do we acknowledge and respect differences without offending? Why do we even care? Well, the answer to that is simple. Doctors take an oath to "first do no harm", and it's pretty much the same with most of the people I know. No one wants to hurt another, or upset them in any way, and yet it happens, ALL THE TIME. If we didn't disagree and discuss things with each other it would be really boring. There are hot button issues in the mommy world, especially in no particular order: vaccination, circumcision, breastfeeding, and bed sharing. No matter how you approach it, in the virtual world, someone WILL get pissed off because you are missing so much of the context. I mean, saying something with a wink face to face changes it so much, but when you write it, that just doesn't translate. I have taken to using "snort, wink, chortle, giggle" to lend my comments more of a context. Pretty soon I may have to start using a disclaimer; as a hothead (which I have just recently discovered about myself) I am going to offend someone. And I can't shut my mouth once I start. Then the snark sets in. I have been apprenticed to the Jedi Masters of snark and so far I'm doing pretty well with it.

It's not too hard, especially when you're overtired and have puke in your hair.

Uggy! Uggy!

When I was a small child my mom bought me a snowsuit to keep me nice and toasty warm. I think it had Peter Rabbit on it, and was yellow. As the story goes, I hated that snowsuit with burning hot passion, and refused to put it on, thrashing about and SCREAMING. "Uggy! Uggy! NOOOO!" My poor mother finally gave up, wrapped me a blanket, and spirited me off to daycare. At this point, I can honestly say that payback's a bitch. I had Bubba in his skinny jeans, t-shirt, and one-stars, and pulled out the new hoodie I found for him from that Gwen Stefani line. It's adorable- black with grey stars on it, and red lining. We're talking so cute I want one in my size! Well, apparently he hates it. Beyond burning hot passion- whatever degree of hatefullness is worse, I'm just not clear. Thrashing, screaming, fat alligator tears- "Shi(r)t NO! Off take off take off pweeze mommy no shi(r)t!!!! Bad mommy! Go AWAY!!" So I took it off, but that had just set us up for a wacky morning. The whole ensemble looked ridiculous without the hoodie, but he wouldn't let me change it up. Made it into the car only five minutes behind, but then realized I had no wallet. This resulted in no trip to get donut holes for my sweet toddler. Snort. Sweet. Hmmm. Sadly, as we passed it, he realized this and seriously lost his shit. DOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHNUTTTTZZZ!!!! Pwease! Pwease" Me good! PWEAZE!" It was heartbreaking. Not quite as upsetting as the I-have-cried-so-hard-over-donuts-and-am-bereft vomit that spewed forth into my hair and ear as we tried to get into daycare. It wasn't stomach flu, but crying/coughing/mucus misery. IN. MY. HAIR. Cleaned up as best I could, dropped the boy who was suddenly calm- sped home to get cleaned up, dropped munchkins at daycare for all the kids, and still made it to work in time for first period! Oh, but it was ugly. I'm still convinced that I can smell it. I know it's gone, but it's that perpetual condition of mommy-hood where you always smell puke or poop.

 It's like super sonic go go gadget sense of smell, which I could do without.