A Mom’s Counting Primer [A Poetic Parody]

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So, a couple of weeks ago I had these nagging words in my head that needed to be written down.

It really started as a kid’s book.  Some sort of humorous counting primer.

It didn’t stay a kid’s book long.

It became a poem for moms who know what it’s like to count.  You know, the you’d-better-do-what-I-told-you-to-do-before-I-get-to-three type of counting.

But the mom in the poem is nice.  She goes up to ten.  (Kind of.)

I recently joined Wattpad, so I posted the poem there.  Grab a glass of wine and head on over to check it out (seriously, I think the whole thing is shorter than this blog post).  Then please share it with all the moms you know that could use a little “time out.”  ;)

Here’s the poem:

A Mom’s Counting Primer [A Poetic Parody]

Enjoy!

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10 Things I Never Expected to Say {Or: A Typical Day in the Life of a Mom}

10 Things I Never Expected to Say OR A Typical Day in the Life of a Mom from RoamingRosie.com

Motherhood has brought with it many unexpected surprises.

Most of them are phenomenally, euphorically amazing. The rest are…

Messy.

{That’s putting it mildly.}

And these are some of the unexpected words that have crossed my lips in the first 5 years of my daughters’ lives.

Things I hope I won’t have to say again {but know that I probably will}.

10 Things I Never Expected to Say

1.  I ran out of tissues; just use my shirt.

2.  Why are you naked?

3.  I didn’t know diarrhea could shoot that far – you almost hit Grandma!

4.  No, no: throw up on me, not the couch!

5.  Did I just step in syrup?

6.  No, I don’t need a tampon, and I certainly don’t need a handful of them … where are all the wrappers?

7.  Don’t stick your fingers in the dog’s butt!

8.  I don’t care how cold you are, you’re not getting back in the bathtub until I clean all of the poop out of it.

9.  Get your hands out of the toilet!

10.  Did you just put my ChapStick in your butt?

My second favorite chore is ironing.  My first being hitting my head on the top bunk bed until I faint.  Erma Bombeck

Please share some of the unexpectedness you’ve experienced in the comment section!

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{Top Photo Copyright Rebecca Abell | Dreamstime Stock Photos}

The Bookmark

Child Reading a Book Vintage Art

I have many bookmarks.

And by bookmarks, I mean tiny pieces of paper or old receipts or expired coupons that find their way into my books.

Part of the reason for this is that I can’t ever seem to find the few actual bookmarks I own when I go to start a new book, which leads me to the other reason:  said bookmarks are already being used within other books.

I tend to read multiple books at one time.

Or maybe I should say that I “start” to read multiple books at one time.  Over the years, there are more than a handful of books that I’ve drifted away from during a chapter that lagged and simply never finished them.

But I digress.  I came here to discuss bookmarks.

And sometimes you don’t even need bookmarks.  For example, one book I’m in the middle of is on my tablet.  The magical electronic device remembers my page for me.  In fact, when I was a kid, I didn’t even use bookmarks most of the time.  I just remembered the page number where I stopped.

My memory is no longer equipped for such a task.

Granted, my OCD forces me to look at the page numbers when I’m turning them to make sure I don’t miss a page {as if I wouldn’t notice}, but whether I put the book down for a few hours or a few days {or a few months}, I now find bookmarks to be essential.

Even tho I recently used a recipe that I’d cut from the back of a box of pasta as a bookmark, my normal go-to these days is two Post-it notes stuck together.  I usually have little pads of them lying around to jot down ideas or phone messages or grocery lists.  And I’ve found that by taking two Post-it notes and sticking them to each other with the sticky edges at opposite ends, it makes a nice sturdy square of paper.

Perfect for an impromptu bookmark.

But the fact that it also looks precisely like a normal Post-it note is what lead me to believe that my four-year-old daughter was just playing with a piece of the nearby pad of Post-its when I saw the yellow paper in her hand.

Until she opened up my big hardcover book, stuck the Post-it in between some pages, and closed it again.

Recognition {and panic} dawned.

“Was… was that my bookmark?  Did you take it out of my book?!?”

“Yes,” she answered, smiling sweetly.  “But I put it back.”

 

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{photo source:  Zazzle}

 

Hide and Seek Expert

I became an expert at Hide and Seek, because the longer it takes my kids to find me, the longer I get to nap.

When I made this ecard stating, “I became an expert at Hide and Seek, because the longer it takes my kids to find me, the longer I get to nap,” I may have been exaggerating.

There is no such thing as a long nap.

Unless you consider thirty-seconds of being slumped over and drooling to be a nap.

But hey:  I’ll take what I can get.

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Momism #9: Snot Receptacles

Momism #9:  Snot Receptacles

We’ve all been there:  the kids have a cold but their noses haven’t been running all morning… until you take them out in public.

Maybe it’s at the playground, maybe it’s at the library, maybe it’s at the grocery store, but, suddenly, your eyes catch sight of a large stream of yellow slime sliding down your child’s face – and you don’t have your purse/diaper bag/tissues-of-any-kind easily available.

So you grab it.  With your fingers.  And wipe it on your jeans casually like none of the other moms can see what you’re doing.

Because maybe you remember the terror and disgust you felt as you watched another child wipe a monstrous glob of green goop all over their hands and then touch your child.

And because, even though you couldn’t help laughing when your toddler was hysterically giggling at how she’d somehow managed to cover an entire toy in her own snot while playing at the library, you just can’t willingly distribute your family’s sticky clumps of germs to innocent bystanders.

And so, somehow, quickly grabbing the slippery puddle with your own fingers presents itself as the best option.

Because the dramatic dive to the diaper bag wouldn’t be quick enough, even if the world passed by in some type of movie-worthy slow motion, and so you use your fingers and swear that you’re going to start carrying tissues in your pocket.

Even though you won’t remember until your kids sneezes projectile snot missiles all over the pasta boxes at Publix.

Sigh.  C’est la boogers vie.

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Momism #8: Crusty

Momism 8

Sandwich crusts, pizza crusts, crusty pieces of unidentifiable charcoal-y chunks of something that fell off the food that was grilled… this is the fate of moms.

Not a particularly terrible fate, however, if you’re a carb lover like me.  (And a fan of burnt chicken skin, but, really, that’s another story.)

Either way, I find many a crust entering my life nowadays.  :)

Momism #6: The Power of the Bra

Momism 6

I should be ashamed to admit this, but, really, I’m not.

I mean, it’s something I sometimes do so people won’t think I didn’t bother to change out of my pajamas, even though I’m playing with my kids in the front yard and it’s nearly dinner time.

But … yeah.  Some days I don’t bother changing out of my pajamas.

And some days I don’t even have time to notice that I haven’t changed out of my pajamas.

You can’t really blame me, though, since my PJs mostly consist of Gilligan & O’Malley shorts and pants from Target and either tank tops or well-loved, old t-shirts.  So, when I’m running around after two active toddlers, sometimes I’m just too comfortable to interrupt exploring the world with my children to do something useless and troublesome like putting on “presentable” clothes.

So if I bother putting on a bra for you, you’d better feel privileged.