Shining mom-moment!

So I get a text from daycare asking, “Do you ever listen to the song ‘Turn Down for What’ by Lil Jon?” At first I’m like… uhh…. no….

But then I Google that shit. Oh yeah – I totally listen to that song. It’s on my Pandora running station cuz man, does it drive my feet when pounding pavement.

Next question from me… “Why do you ask?”

Turns out a kid version of that song came on my awesome daycare provider’s Kid’s Pandora station at daycare and apparently my kid JUST. WENT. NUTS. The exact text she sent me was “He was jamming hard!!! Running around the room and shouting the words – I was laughing so hard.”

What? It’s a good running song. Apparently Liam thinks so, too.


lil jon


You know you’re a mom when…

  1. You get really excited over a text from daycare announcing that your kid pooped.
  2. Without hesitation, you offer yourself as a human Kleenex.
  3. The only moments of silence you get during the day (and sometimes the night) is while you shower. Notice I didn’t even say when going to the bathroom… because let’s get real… you are NEVER alone for that.

I could list about 100 more things that scream MOM, but I’m also a working mom, and my lunch isn’t that long…


Painting like Dad

My husband and I have been working on a face-lift in our basement family room. New drywall, new carpet, new paint. Last week I took Liam down to see the paint job in process. He thought it was really cool to watch dad with the paint brush, doing the edging between the wall and the ceiling.

Fast-forward five minutes.

I walk into Liam’s bedroom to get him changed for bedtime and find him kneeling by the wall. He proudly tells me, “paint like dad!” He has a tampon in his hand and is making painting motions on the wall. So, I feel the need to point out that it was a brand new, never opened tampon that he must have stolen from the bathroom cupboard, because if I didn’t, “painting with a tampon” could take on a whole new meaning. But with that little explanation out of the way, I still laughed out loud and made sure to take pictures to show daddy, and well, all of you. SO here you have it: painting with a tampon. My good little helper.

tampon 1 tampon 2 tampon 3


The Scream

My kid has pipes. Not plumber pipes, not a musical instrument, and no, he doesn’t have biceps like his dad (yet). Liam can SCREAM.

He’s almost two and at this awesome developmental stage, he often gets frustrated because he doesn’t yet have the vocabulary to express his emotions or let us know his wants/needs.

So he screams.

Sometimes he screams so hard his little face turns red and he makes himself cough. When that happens, we tell him he’s not a monster, he’s a little boy. Whatevs. I’d rather have him express himself vocally than throw toys or hit.

However, Liam is like his daddy when it comes to being frustrated… they both go from 0-50 in like 0.2 seconds. Me, on the other hand – I’m like a teapot: I can remain under control and calm when I’m frustrated or stressed, but if I’m continuously pushed, my blood pressure will boil and boil until GAME OVER.

Except for yesterday. Yesterday, I wasn’t a teapot. Yesterday, I too, was a monster.

It went down like this:

I was helping Liam with a little Nerf gun. Showing him to put the darts in and pull the loader back to shoot the darts. Apparently I wasn’t working fast enough for him because out of nowhere came the monster-child with a scream so shrill and loud that it totally startled me. In a completely involuntary response, I screamed too – LOUDLY – because his scream literally scared the shit out of me. And my scream scared the shit out of him.

SO there we were. Both silent. Both staring at each other trying to figure out what the fuck just happened. I handed him back the Nerf gun and away he went, like nothing happened. Like The Scream was just that: a ghost of the past.

The Scream by Edvard Munch, 1893


Happy New Year!

Happy New Year! I haven’t posted in awhile… you might think it’s because the holidays can be busy. While that is true, the real reason is because of this sequence of events:

  1. Liam got sick
  2. I got sick
  3. Husband got sick
  4. I got sick
  5. Liam got sick
  6. Husband got sick
  7. I got sick
  8. I got better briefly
  9. I got sick
  10. BLAH

In conclusion, OMG everyone has been sick. Over the past five weeks or so, I’ve experienced everything from that pesky runny nose that comes on suddenly and without warning running like a faucet down your face, to feeling like I was getting stabbed in the throat every time I swallowed, to cleaning up toddler puke (not spit-up, PUKE – what kind? “CHUNKY!”) to finally, as my husband kindly puts it, having “the Hershey squirts.”

Let me tell you, you have not lived until you have cleaned up chunky toddler puke twice in one night. It was the oddest thing – Liam puked, and then acted totally normal. Running around his room playing and being a goofball. I called an on-call nurse at 3:30 am not because I was worried he had puked twice that night already, but because I didn’t know what to do with a randomly-puking toddler. Like, do you just put him back in his crib and hope he doesn’t puke again? Yes – the answer is yes you do. Well, Ok then. I got lucky – no round three on the toddler-puke-wagon.

Now, taking care of and cleaning up after a pooping husband, that is something else entirely and we are just not going to get into that part of my holiday break. “The end” on that portion.

It’s been en eventful holiday season. Beyond the sickness we have been so cheerfully passing around our family, we were invited to two New Year’s Eve parties…. both of which got cancelled. One due to Influenza A and the other due to pink eye. GAH!

Still, the holidays were filled with family and joy and cheer. Here are a few pictures of Liam with his favorite Christmas gifts: his child-sized Dyson vacuum cleaner and “Baby Levi.”


baby levi

Happy New Year and be well, everyone!


Motherhood standards

This morning, Liam picked his nose and wiped a bugger on me. I didn’t even flinch.

Yesterday, I saw his nose was running and I didn’t have a Kleenex, so I wiped it with my finger.

Two days ago, I picked up a chunk of fallen poo with my fingers.

Last week, I caught Liam licking spilled milk off the floor. I rolled with it.

What does all of this say about me? I have no idea, but I have decided that motherhood lowers your standards for everything. And apparently Liam hasn’t gotten the memo that he should raise his.


I’m cool with it. Happy Thursday.