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Motherhood is a Cheeky Betch

That Motherhood… she is one cheeky bitch. The moment you even consider thinking about making a plan for something… her wheels start turning.

Like, if you think “Hmmm… after I put the kids to bed I’ll have a nice glass of wine and relax in a bubble bath”…. BAM. NO. Motherhood has decided that your baby will scream 2 minutes after you engulf yourself in bubbles.

Or, if you think “Hmmm… tomorrow morning I’ll put away the laundry and then start on cleaning the house so I can have everything presentable by noon”… BAM. NO. Motherhood has decided that your toddler will pee through her diaper, her nightgown, her blanket, her sheets and her bed and will wake you at 6:30am to deal with it. During the cleaning of this, this EXTRA chore you hadn’t planned on… your baby will wake and scream that it’s time to play RIGHT THIS SECOND OR ELSE.

And, if you think “Hmmm… maybe I will take a shower and enjoy coffee today”… BAM. NO. Motherhood thinks you should wear sweatpants until 2pm, clean up baby barf 17 times before 10am, mop up juice spills while your toddler cries and stomps her feet, and wonder what-in-the-living-hell-did-this-thing-eat while cloroxing the spot where the dog hacked up an unknown glob of digustingness.

And THAT… that is all in less than 24 hours of Motherhood’s glory.

She is SUCH a bitch.

 

(Buuuuuuuut, then there’s this…)

 

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Bruise-Free Bananas

I wouldn’t necessarily say I’m raising a picky eater… But… I’m raising a picky eater.

I mean, she eats all kinds of foods. It’s the QUALITY she’s picky about. Most recent prime example:

A few mornings ago I was getting the girls up and ready for the day. As I was changing Jamie, Ellie headed downstairs without me. I didn’t really pay attention to what she was doing because a.) usually she just grabs the iPad and sits on the couch, and b.) I was going to be down there in like 2 minutes.

A few minutes later, she met me halfway up the stairs with a completely peeled banana in her hands.

“Mommy! This one doesn’t have a bruise! I’m gonna eat it!”

I was pleased that she had gotten her own breakfast, because I was running semi-late.

Until I got downstairs and realized that there were THREE completely peeled bananas sitting on the couch. All with bruises.

Now I know what she meant by “this one doesn’t have a bruise“… Picky betch!

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Ice Cream: The Miracle Cure

I know I owe you all a birth story about my brand new daughter Jamie Lea, but it’s been a crazy couple of weeks here in the Fast household – cut me some slack, people, I have TWO FREAKING KIDS now! Anyway I promise, it’s coming. In the meantime, I thought I’d share another Ellie-ism…

So lately when Ellie gets a little diaper rash, I’ll put Desitin or hydrocortisone cream on it and it usually clears right up. When I’m putting it on her, I always tell her “Okay, gotta put some butt cream on!”

She apparently got confused somewhere along the line and now when her butt itches she says “Gotta put some butt ice cream on it!”. She loves ice cream, and butt cream always makes her feel better, so somehow she’s combined the two in her mind. While this is cute enough alone to be the anecdote, it gets even MORE ridiculously adorable…

The night I went into labor with Jamie, I was having regular contractions about 15 minutes apart. They were getting stronger and closer, and I was sitting on a yoga ball in my living room to ease the pressure on my lower back. At one point, I had Ellie up in my lap when I started to contract – so I gently put her down and told her “Mommy’s tummy hurts, Honey, I’ll pick you back up again in a minute.”

My sweet, adorable, smart little daughter didn’t even miss a beat. She just looked up at me with her serious green eyes and said, “It’s okay Mommy, gotta put some ice cream on it!”

*sigh*

Here’s hoping it’ll be a loooooong time before Ellie realizes that ice cream doesn’t cure everything.

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Let the public embarrassment begin…

Ellie has really never embarrassed me in public – I’m not the mom who freaks out when her baby cries super loudly in the grocery store (or on the plane), I don’t care if she has a blowout and the stink fills the room, and I think pretty much everything she says is funny or really, really cute.

Recently, however, she managed to make the color rise in my cheeks (even though I still thought she was cute and funny). During a quick trip to Target in search of new nursing tanks, I brought my little darling into the dressing room with me while I tried a few things on.

The rooms on either side of us were occupied, and Target was not playing any sort of background music over the store speakers – so everything was relatively quiet. Until Ellie ripped a ridiculously loud fart and then started cracking up… and then yelled the words “MOMMY TOOTS!”

Okay, so I definitely was laughing, but I told her “No, ELLIE toots. Mommy didn’t toot!” – but nooooooo, repeating the words “MOMMY TOOTS” over and over had her laughing like a hyena and me blushing to no end. And what the heck do you even do in that situation? “Um, excuse me, other people in the dressing room? It really wasn’t me, I promise! It was my kid! Really!”

Riiiiiiiight.  

I can’t help but think it must have been her DAD that taught her pass the blame like that. It’s a conspiracy, I tell you.

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Girl’s Got Aim

I’ve shared some of this on Facebook recently, because, well… I continue to be so shocked by my daughter that I have to immediately upload photos and explanations so people can get a good chuckle. Here is the (developing) story regarding Ellie’s latest “potty adventures”:

Since we’ve started potty training (approx 6 weeks ago), Ellie has massively impressed me. She got the hang of everything right away, and now she’s to the point where she doesn’t even use her little potty chairs. She just uses a cute little Dora the Explorer seat ring on the big potty… well, that and a few other interesting “venues”.

Exhibit A — Dora’s Potty

A few weeks ago I heard Ellie say “potty” in the living room so I ran around the corner to investigate. She was sitting on her pink potty chair by the couch, proudly telling me she had peed. As I cleaned her up and emptied the chair, I noticed she had a little bit of pee on her leg. I mentioned to Adam that maybe she had missed a little before she made it to the potty, and we didn’t really think twice about it. A few hours later, while cleaning the living room after I had put the Pee Queen to bed, I found out where she had “missed” — apparently she had tried to sit on the TEENY TINY potty chair for the Dora Potty DOLL I had given her. When she realized it was uncomfortable/too small/ridiculous, she moved over to her own potty chair and finished. Apparently. How she managed to hover over that thing and actually pee into it, I’ll never know.

Exhibit B — “Dump” Truck

This is actually a little jungle truck, but I think my title is more fitting. Last Saturday night, just before bed, Ellie was running around our living room like a little naked banshee. She got out this truck and started trying to sit on it, which already had us cracking up. When she finally did manage to sit her little butt on top of it, and just as Adam jokingly said, “hey, don’t poop in that, Honey” – she ripped the biggest “toot” and actually grunted. I laughed so hard that I almost peed MY pants (it’s a miracle I could pick myself up off the couch to get her to the bathroom while I was in hysterics).

Exhibit C — Potty Snacks

Again with the naked-banshee-nighttime-playing, but in the kitchen this time. Adam had a buddy over and they were drinking a beer and chatting, when all of a sudden I hear, “Hey, what is she DOING?” — only to run in and see Ellie ACTUALLY SITTING on this tiny little snack container saying “potty time!”

Size Comparisons:

I guess I’ve got to hand it to her — the girl’s got aim. Unfortunately I’m realizing now that I’ll have to check ANYTHING ANYWHERE EVER for pee, since she’s apparently the Secret Pee Ninja.

But really… potty training is going great. I promise.

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I swear, we’re not trashy parents.

During a recent visit to “Gwama and Poppa’s” house, Ellie impressed everyone with her extensive knowledge of body parts (such a show-off, that one). My mother-in-law was almost in tears (of laughter) while sharing this story with me…

Apparently, Ellie was sitting up on the kitchen counter talking with her grandpa, pointing to his nose and saying “NOSHE!”, his eyes (“EYSH!”), her feet, her toes (“TOESH!”) and all of the other parts she knows. After showing off hair, fingers, legs, knees, teeth, elbows, etc, she pointed at her crotch.

  “KITTY!” she exclaimed, with a huge smile on her face.

Completely stunned, Grandpa stuttered and sputtered and uncomfortably asked Grandma “uh, isn’t that a little inappropriate?”

Thankfully Adam and I don’t have the reputation as TOTALLY trashy parents, so Grandma knew to investigate the situation a little further. After lifting Ellie’s shirt the tiniest bit, she realized that Little Miss Thang happened to be wearing Hello Kitty panties. Cute little white panties, with the tiniest little Hello Kitty right on the front.

Yep, smarty daughter-o-mine, that IS a kitty.

Nope, Grandpa, I won’t be teaching her any vagina slang for a few more years. (For the record, she calls her vagina a ‘gina.)

Superwife Lesson Learned: Where children are involved, ALWAYS clarify. They really are *usually* innocent. 🙂

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Security Blankie

My beautiful daughter has a white hand-crocheted blanket that she is in love with – it’s her “security” blankie. It was made with love by her great-aunt Jana, and Ellie is absolutely enamored with it.

On mornings when she hasn’t quite woken up enough, or when she’s having a “mommy” day, or just when she’s feeling particularly vulnerable, I let her bring her blankie with her to daycare – she always feels better when she knows I’m going to let her take it in the car, and I can tell she feels somehow “safer” away from me when I drop her off .

Tomorrow marks Day One of my father-in-law’s murderer’s court trial…

Do you think Ellie will let me have her blankie for the day?