Moms Doing Awesome Things on The Internet

I saw this article in the Star Tribune the other day and I just thought, “Moms are awesome!” We do all these regular mom things every day PLUS we are killing it online. Check out these two examples that are guaranteed to make you say, “That is SO me.”

The Wild Morning 
This is a soon-to-be book and cool Instagram account that chronicles morning routines for moms in my neck of the woods. I mean these women are much more photogenic than I am, but basically we all tackle the same stuff while we’re trying to get caffeinated and make sure our humans are properly cleaned.

Cat & Nat: For Moms Like Us
The #momtruths on this YouTube channel will likely result in you peeing your pants (note: the chances are higher among moms of multiple children). Check out their website, I promise you’ll want to be friends with these two.

Child-Rearing by Sara Walters: Advice on Preschool from Your Weirdest, But Most Direct Friend

I am a weirdo, which results in me having a limited group of close friends. My humor is similar to that of a 14-year-old boy, so not a lot of grown women are into it. I’m also a little overly direct. No fluff happening here. And inappropriate. Definitely inappropriate. Also REALLY LOUD. But I do have some pretty awesome ladies in my squad that keep putting up with the strange shit my brain comes up with. Here’s a snippet of text messages to give you a little sample of what they endure.

Me at the hospital trying to get fluids while battling the stomach flu:
Sara: I told her I was I was “pro IV” and she just stared at me.
D: Well that probably was taken differently than you meant it…
Sara: Thought of that after. I’m now part of a narcotics investigation. I looked like shit, so I’m sure that helped convince them I was a dope fiend.

Upon learning that there is such thing as “porch pirates” who steal your delivered packages:
Sara: I just ordered one. Great. I’m getting delirious from staying up past 8pm.
K: Bahahaha. I love that.
Sara: Hopefully it doesn’t get stolen by an Iranian man in a pantsuit.  

And then most recently, me giving parenting advice in regards to the pros/cons of 3K:
Sara: Just read him some books and teach him to say please and thank you and you’re good. That’s my plan. 

Basically, if you can put up with the bizarre stuff from samples 1 and 2, you’ll get the valuable nugget in 3. The friend who I gave this advice to said I should blog about it because she is one of the rare ones who knows I’m not a total lunatic and maybe even occasionally benefits from being friends with me.

I’ve been investigating a 3K for Caroline in the last couple weeks. We found one we liked at our church and I’m sure she’d love it. But she’s got a great daycare and I’m not sure she’d learn much more than she’s getting now. So we’re not going to send her and I refuse to feel guilty about that. Andy and I are pretty hands-on parents. We read C books, talk about colors with her, count things together, show her how to do daily things like brush her teeth and put her dirty clothes in the hamper. When kids are 2 and 3, do they need more than that? I’m not sure they do. We make her say please before she gets a snack and she has to clean up her own toys when she creates a tornado. I know I’ve stressed out about learning and education and structure and all that stuff, but my new motto is if she’s happy (I mean in general, when you’re a good parent your kid is going to be pissed at you sometimes) then I’m happy. When she’s truly unhappy, we’ll figure it out. If you’re active in your kid’s life and make an effort to teach them to be kind, you can do whatever you want about school. Send them to 3K, that’s great. Don’t send them to 3K, that’s great too. No judgement here.

And make sure to get a friend like me who can blow up your phone with weird texts and the occasional reassuring tidbit. That also helps.

 

Let it Go: The Authorized True Story of How One Toddler Became a Disney Princess/Pop Star

Kids are like little mirrors. Parents can look at them and see exactly how they’ve acted, good or bad. This is super alarming and has made me spend a significant amount of time questioning my dance moves.

My mom’s family has the musical gene and only a small portion came my way. I was in band in high school and can play the piano, but that’s about the extent of it. I’m not totally tone-deaf, but I’m not about to karaoke anytime soon.

Like many little girls her age, Caroline is OBSESSED with Frozen and the hit song, Let it Go. I dig it too, so I get it. But this weekend a trip to Grandma’s meant listening to the song on repeat. Luckily for us, it also meant that we got to witness this performance multiple times:

If we’re looking at my mirror theory here, I have to assume that at some point my child saw me sing with my eyes closed with my fist in the air (has she seen the photos from our wedding reception?) I couldn’t really put this together because mostly we just sing I’m a Little Teapot in the bathtub. No dramatic ballads to report.

But then today I turned on my 90’s Pop Pandora station and jumped in the shower. The Pandora Gods were looking down on me and gave me two excellent shower jams in a row, brought to you by the likes of Mariah Carey and Celine Dion. It was halfway through Because You Loved Me that I had my light bulb moment. This is where she gets it. And then…OH GOOD LORD, THIS IS WHERE SHE GETS IT!

We’re either going to have some very interesting Christmas programs in our future or we’ll be trying out for America’s Got Talent. Only time will tell.

I Can’t Cut Pizza

I feel like I need to preface this post by saying my husband is incredibly hard-working, and I’m not just saying that because I married the guy. He is ALWAYS busting his ass for his family, working extra hours, taking on extra projects. I totally love him for it. He’s also the apple of Caroline’s eye. He’s an active participant in parenting his daughter, which has been particularly evident while I’ve been pregnant (I have a pretty serious napping schedule to adhere to). I’ve never ever stressed about leaving him in charge. I mean, sometimes he even takes Caroline with him to the grocery store ON A WEEKEND…BY HIMSELF. Like, whoa. The dude is  a champ.

That being said, long hours for Andy equals an extreme demand for mom. Most days I can hack it. Caroline, as far as toddlers go, is a pretty easy kiddo. She’s wonderful at being independent and playing by herself. But when we’ve gone a stretch of a few weekends in a row with minimal dad time, she seems to forget that Andy is also capable of getting her more milk, or opening her fruit snacks, or putting on her hat and mittens. Apparently you must have special mom powers to do this stuff.

In my short time as a parent, I’ve learned that your kid reaches a point where they go from a cuddly little lump to a full-fledged human. And like everything else, it happens overnight. We passed this point a while ago, but now we’ve seemed to reach a new tier, which appears to be classified as “tiny human with the ability to mimic regular-sized-human qualities/tendencies/mannerisms.” Case and point: this weekend Caroline, while cutting me a piece of pretend pizza, said, “Mom, I can’t do it. I’m really frustrated!” This kid is 2 years, 9 months old. And she just used “frustrated” perfectly in a sentence. Say whaaat?

The takeaway for me from this interaction was that although I’m glad C’s vocabulary is rapidly growing, I might need a new approach to solo-parenting. I’ve probably vocalized my frustration a little too frequently and now it’s influencing her ability to cut pizza. I mean, if you’ve ever seen me try to use a pizza cutter, you’d understand my concern. For real, I have to use a scissors (much to Andy’s amusement) so that I don’t maul the whole thing. It’s more likely that I can adopt a better attitude about being the go-to parent than I can the skill required to cut a pizza. And if I don’t teach this kid to do it for me, I’m doomed. I can handle a little more mom demand if it means I can prepare pizza without adult supervision. #worthit