Case of the missing Dinner plate 2

****Well! It is quite obvious momma's with newborns should not be allowed to blog late at night all alone. It seems I managed to write a post and get it published, only to stumble around my keyboard and delete it moments later. Several comments were made to the disappearing post, so please forgive me. I have retrieved the deleted post and am I hoping round 2 works out better!***

My parents have enjoyed telling me many a stories about myself, over and over, about what wonderful behavior I displayed as a child, obviously it wasn't the greatest. A certain little tale hits home with me now as I parent my own children.

Apparently, I was playing with the knobs on the stove. I was twisting and turning them on and off and had been instructed, told, and disciplined many a time on this already, that it was a NO-NO. On this particular occasion, I have been told, that my dad told me quite stern, "I do not want your hands touching this stove again!". A few moments later my parents were once again interrupted by the obnoxious noise of me turning the knobs on the stove. However, as they braced to beat my butt they discovered little old toddler me turning the knobs with my ELBOWS, not my hands. I was following their instructions. My hands were not touching that stove!

Now as I have my own toddler, I encounter these moments...more so than I would like to admit to my parents. But it is moments like these that break the frustration of parenting and allow for a good ol' belly laugh and reminder of the innocence of our obnoxious children and a minute to pour that next glass of wine.

This week, Big Sis DIVA provoked one such moment. It was dinner time. I made some delicious homemade cookies for us to snack upon after we finished dinner. Big Sis DIVA spied these "cook cook's" as she calls them, and the rest is history. I informed Big Sis DIVA that after her dinner was "GONE" she could have a "Cook Cook". I had no idea she would take me literally.

She basically took her dinner plate and hid it. When i turned around and saw the plate missing from the table I inquired about the issue. Here is what went down: (it's about 1 1/2 minutes long FYI)

Toddler time FAIL

Books. Books on shelves at various levels. Books on shelves at various levels in a quiet location. Not a good mix for Baby DIVA.

My little one has always been interested in books, but not really for reading. She loves to snack on them, tear the pages, flip the pages, wear them as hats, make them into flying carpets. Whatever, she is using her imagination so I roll with it. Over the last few weeks, Baby DIVA has sparked a interest in the actual words inside those flying carpets. She will bring me a book and we will sit down and read.

I love it. I have a passion for books, (although chasing a tot around 24/7 leaves little energy to actually hold my own book up and read), so this development made me really happy. I decided it was time to brave the library with Baby DIVA. We have toddler time at our local joint and I was thrilled to finally be able to attend with a story interested tot.

I HAVE NEVER BEEN SO HUMILIATED!

My precious, quiet on the car ride, relaxed Baby DIVA and myself arrived at 10am prompt for toddler library time. We strolled inside and grabbed our tot ticket to story time. Then we headed over to the children's area to look at some books and see what craft they had for us to do. I am not sure what happened on this short walk, but Baby DIVA grew some horns. As we rounded the corner and entered the racks of kid books, her voice began to echo throughout the area. "Mama, Mama, Mama, Ca-Ca, Mama". So I thought perhaps she needed to take a crap. I asked her if she needed to go potty. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, Mama" at full scream.

Attempting to distract her, we went over to the craft table and I tried to engage her in this activity. She proceeded to try and eat the glue stick, try to climb up over the top of the table, tried to steal craft pieces from other kids, all while squawking and mortifying me. Fail.

Then I pulled out the big guns and decided we should walk the racks, burn off some steam, hoping that this might bring my sweet quiet Baby DIVA back to reality. Off we went, hand in hand. And then she squirmed loose and was gone. Sprinting through the racks. My Fluffy pregnant self chased her down and found her attempting to scale the racks of My first Chapter books. AWESOME. Baby DIVA scurrying up the racks in the library. Yes, I am that mom. And might I add, quite memorable with hot pink hair. No hiding me!

A glance around the room at my fellow toddler moms, hoping to be met with looks of "oh honey, I have been there stares", was met with a surprise. Pure distaste looks from these fellow tot moms. Hatred. I am the devil with pink hair mom looks beamed my way. Like their tots are always perfect. Again though, Mortified.

I scooped up baby DIVA and headed back to the librarians desk to turn in our tot ticket. There was no way we were going to make it to story time, much less through story time without destroying something. The kind librarian asked me to please stay. That she had some toys to entertain my tot, and that she would eventually learn the ropes. I denied the offer and high tailed it out of the library. Glances from peering adults from the historical section on the opposite side of the library pretty much demonstrated I need to leave with my tot, PRONTO!!

Perhaps we will try again in a few months. Until then story time will be on my living room floor and might involve a nibble of pages and a timeout or two. Oh and did I mention as we drove home, Baby DIVA was a quiet perfect little princess? Don't you just love the terrible two's?

Oh and those moms who gave me the look of death, I hope your kid throws food at you tonight at dinner!

Boob Feeding pups

I am all for Boob feeding. In fact, when Critter2 makes her grand debut I would like to give this whole boob feeding idea a go. Baby DIVA was not boob fed due to medical restriction on my part, so this is new territory for me. And therefore I have been actively doing a little momma research. I have found that I am a middle of the road boob feed activist. I do think it is wonderful for your baby, but it isn't the only way to feed a baby. I do believe there are benefits, but there is nothing wrong with a child who is formula fed either, they benefit as well.

I also think that although natural, boob feeding is a private intimate time between mother and child and should be should be done in a tasteful manner while in public. I do not think I personally will be whipping out a boob and letting it freely loose while my baby crawls on the floor and I chat with friends at a coffee shop, until she is hungry. Not my thing. My boobs like to stay private, thank you. I heard someone once say in reference to boob feeding that "yes, it is natural. But so is going poo. I'm not going to take a giant poo out in public just because it is natural. No, I will do it discreetly." That description has stuck with me and I agree with it whole hearted.

I have read the pros and cons and arguments for and against. I follow those advocates who think breastfeeding is the only way,Breast is best, and I also follow those who think formula feeding is the only way, and I find myself somewhere in the middle. Both ways provide for your child and as the mother of that child you have the right to decide what is best. Although before the birth of Critter2 I am certain I want her to be a boob fed gal, that does not guarantee me that outcome. Perhaps my boobs wont work, perhaps she wont take to boob milk, perhaps she will. I think as a mom you must also enter this flexible and willing to make changes as needed to provide your child with the best for her, whatever those needs may be. I really enjoy reading all the various points of view, from the extreme pro boob to the anti boob on this matter, because the more knowledge I gain the better mother I can be to Baby DIVA and Critter2. Seeing the vast possibilities ensures me Critter2 and I will find a common ground somewhere that meets both our needs, mostly hers.

Now, all that being said, I also come across weirdo folks out there in the world who do some strange things, it tickles me so and grosses me out. I don't agree with boob feeding children old enough to ask for a drink. I think its gross and there are no benefits at that point. I also find that post milk production, some women do some really bizarre things with their "girls."

Check out this lady who breastfeeds her dog. Yes, my friends, she lets her doggie latch her boobie and drink her milk, because she misses the bond of having her child do so. Ummm NO! This is crazy. Breast is best taken too far! I almost barfed.

Faux baby

H4L and I were surfing through HULU the other night, and came across this video clip series. We watched the entire series and laughed our butts off. It took our fears of parents and amplified them into comedic humor. And also touched on quite a bit a stereotypical issues that I myself have encountered being out in the world as a mom. If you have some time and need a good laugh, sit back, relax and watch this little series.

Emergency Bath

We are sort of engaging in Potty Training here at the Pink Haired Momma house. But not really. I mean, we have introduced Baby DIVA to the lovely little potty we have for her. We have explained to her what happens in the restroom. She has watched us "do our business" since birth in the restroom. She has gone and sat down on the potty a few times and done her business. But we are not really pushing this milestone yet.

Last week we had a breakthrough. Baby DIVA came into the bathroom while I was finishing up some stuff. She took off her diaper, sat down, went pee, stuck her hand out for toilet paper,(which I gave her), she attempted a wipe, stood up picked up the bucket and proceeded to dump in the toilet. HUGE celebrations went down! Lots of cheers, dancing, singing, clapping. The works. Both momma and daddy were present and partook in the festivities. Pee Pee Dance was in full active mode! I was so incredibly proud of my tot, especially because she had no real coaxing in the matter.

Since then we have had a couple of other times where she has used the potty. We are by no means pushing the use and just kind of are letting her figure it out on her own. It might also be that she doesn't really talk yet, so even if she needs to go she doesn't really know how to say, "Yo momma, I gotta pee!" But either way, I prefer to just let her develop this at her own pace.

Fast forward a week to yesterday afternoon. I was keeping the toilet warm doing stuff and in strolls Baby DIVA. She needs to go, she exclaims by ripping her diaper off and plopping down on her potty. She does her business and at a much more rapid pace than I can move gets up and proceeds to DUMP. Never mind that I am still in the dump site!

Emergency Bath took place immediately following celebratory You went pee pee in the potty dance!

TV and String Cheese?

It is official. I have seen it all.



A TV built into a grocery cart. Seriously? Are you kidding me? I mean, its not like my kid is an angel or anything and sits still without shrieking like a banshee while we shop for some Dried peas and string cheese, but I think I can keep her entertained long enough in the store that DJ Lance doesn't have to join us and our bread can safely check out without an incident.


Believe me, I am not an anti-tv mom. I love tv shows, movies and cartoons. I let Baby DIVA watch shows on the tube and she had her faves. But it is all in moderation. TV is never used as a pacifier or a babysitter. And this grocery store TV cart screams both. I am actually appalled that this is even an option for parents to use in the store.

Letting Baby DIVA explore the TV cart

I understand we are all in a hurry. I understand that pacifying a child is so much easier that actually dealing with the problem. I understand how embarrassing it is to be that one person with the screaming kid in the grocery store. And I can even recognize that this option could possibly look quite appealing in some situations. But I just do not think this is the answer, no matter how cool the technology.

Recalls

Recalls.

I am so tired of hearing about RECALLS. It seems like every single day, I catch wind of yet another recall for this or that. Lead based paint on toys, Spinach, Over-the-counter medicines. Seriously, it is getting out of control.

At first glance, I find myself wondering as to how in the world the quality assurance personnel of these major named companies are allowing products to enter into mainstream consumer hands, if there are so many problems. My own career background, pre Baby DIVA and the pink hair of course, was a career based in quality assurance. Knowing the workings of a quality assurance process leaves me wanting to know more and more as to why this continues to be a recurrent problem in our world. But this problem also allows me speculate that the personnel who release these items into the custody of the general public, might in fact be doing their job correctly and efficiently. Could it possibly be that we have a giant out pouring of persons, moms, dads, loud mouths, who are crying wolf at any opportunity they can?

Let us look at the most current recall issued by Fisher Price, just this week. I have a particular interest in the recall that states "Children can fall on or against the pegs...resulting in injuries or lacerations." This is in reference to the Healthy Clean, Easy Care High chair. So, basically this product is being recalled because a child might fall down and get hurt because he or she bumps into it, in simple terms. Well if we put this behavior into practice on all products, we may as well go ahead and start a recall on all walls, floors, toes, empty air. I mean, my kid trips and falls into things all the time; and sometimes she gets an ouch. It happens. Do I like it? NO! But it happens. It is not the tile on my floor who is at fault if she falls and busts her lip. Shoot it is not even her fault. It is an accident. A simple oops that occurs in every day life. I don't call up the President of
Tile world demanding to be compensated immediately because my kid tripped.


I do not want to down play Recalls by any means. There is substantial evidence for many recalls that amounts to a necessity for a product to be recalled. However, I think many recalls (especially in recent months) are based on the fear of the company. The fear the company has of mouthy consumers who cry out as loud as possible for the slightest reasons, who have some how lost sight that occasionally growing up kids get injured, minor injuries of course is what I am talking about. A bump here, a bruise there and sometimes a cut here. But these are all part of the learning process. These little moments when a child walks too close to a sharp edge or is running in house and falls down and bumps his or her head; they are all learning opportunities for the child. Times that the parents then can step in and "Parent" the child. Remind the child that running in the house is not allowed because sometimes we fall down and get hurt. And then we help our child get up and move on. We don't teach him to destroy the floor that he fell on. We don't teach him to wallow in his bruise and place the blame of his fall on the person who designed and built that piece of flooring, god knows how long ago. No, we teach him to watch his step and gain the knowledge that this type of behavior and activity can sometimes cause a bad outcome.

Perhaps instead of utilizing so much effort, energy and time in trying to point blame at a large named company for little Johnny"s little scrape, we should instead "recall" ourselves as parents and learn how to parent and take care of our children again. We should grasp the concept that WE are the parents, not the product designers and marketing departments. We police our children and keep them safe, not the marketing department or factory rollout that makes the toys. We need to re-learn how to teach our children to learn from their mistakes and boo boo's in life. Teach our children that sometimes we do fall down, and when we do many times there is no one else to blame but ourselves. And when we fall, we get up and keep going.

SAHM's Work Dammit!!!!

I have just about had it with everyone out there in the world thinking that because I am a stay at home momma that I do not work. I keep finding my friends and family and acquaintances are under the illusion that when they call me I will always be free to chat. Or if they need something from me, I should be able to hop right up and service whatever need they have because as a SAHM I must just be sitting on the couch fully dressed, ready to jump, after placing the bon bon in mouth, and fulfill whatever wish they have placed up on me!



This is just a simple reminder to those who need to be reminded. Moms have the busiest job on the planet. It is a 24 hour, 7 day a week, 365 day a year gig. It never stops. There is never any downtime. Shits ALONE have to be scheduled days in advance and sometimes require a quick call to the sitter down the street. A simple load of laundry becomes an all day affair as you must tote baskets full of stinky clothes no less, over the heads of toddlers without accidentally smashing them or tripping and falling and breaking your ankle, which only adds an ER run to your daily to do list; Then get the laundry soap safely into the washer without tiny hands helping guide the container or pushing you out of the way thus resulting in you spilling the soap on the floor, which in that case you then also floor clean up aisle laundry room floor to your to do list. After you finally manage to get the laundry started, washed and dried, you then must masterfully fold the clean clothes with the help of a toddler. This ultimately results in refolding the laundry two or three times before you successful sneak it away from tiny tot hands, folded neatly, and are able to place it in its proper location. BUT, if you are incredibly lucky, you just might, maybe, perhaps once a month or so, get to spend your tots nap time performing this wonderfully relaxing task all by yourself. Goodness nothing like doing laundry to really relax a girl.



So do not ever think dropping in a mom and expecting her to be able to drop everything and take care of YOUR needs before her child's is EVER going to happen. Consider she too has a schedule and you are just going to have to wait your freaking turn.



Have a super fabulous day!

Candy and diapers?

I understand marketing. I even find some marketing to be quite lovely. I do not mind being persuaded to buy this or that by an ad here or there, because I know I am smart enough to not fall for an illusion, I am smart enough to take in the advertising for what it is worth and still use my own mind to make a conscious decision if the product is right for me or not. I enjoy seeing the artistic side of advertising, whether it be the actual art, the writing and all the other skills that go into influencing the mass population. What I do not like one bit is tacky, malicious marketing behavior. Trickery used in trying to make a sale. Acts that are aimed at ultimately causing harm, no matter how slight the harm may be, really leave a bad taste in my mouth.

Enter me, a mom, in a local grocery store. I am a woman who tries to provide her family with the best products out there that nourish the body and mind. I do this by using coupons in order to "nourish" our bank account. I also try and "nourish" public spaces by maintaining a well behaved child through proper discipline techniques and a smattering of love and affection of course. It infuriates me to know end when I happen across a marketing technique in a store that is just preposterous.

This week I slid my buggy down the aisle at Kroger, the aisle mind you that contained the Baby products. You know. Butt Paste, smashed up food, diapers. The necessities. Baby DIVA was casually directing me from her perch in the buggy too. I was horrified to discover that the opposite side of the Baby Product aisle housed nothing other than ALL the candy the store had to offer.

What moron in the marketing or store design team would do this? Sure it might boost candy sales, but the trade off is a significant loss. A screaming child being pushed around in the buggy by a flustered parent because said parent has to navigate an entire grocery store aisle while screeching "no" to a begging child for a piece of candy, can almost certainly result in a pissed off customer, who will not return to your store. Not to mention all the other customers who are then forced to listen to annoying cries of a strangers kid who is whining for candy all because some idiot decided it would be a great sale boosting plan to put candy on an aisle that parents most certainly will have to take kids down. And let us not even touch on the fact that America has an obesity problem and so lets go ahead and start shoving candy influences down their throats from infancy. Way to go team! My "nourishing" nature of my family and those around me were instantly shot to crap.

Smooth move guys!

Katy Perry update

I just found this to be amusing...

It now seems that all those parents who so quickly and eagerly began to bash Katy Perry earlier this week (must be that coffee break was over and they began watch and think using their own minds) in her Sesame Street bit with Elmo, have now begun to reconsider. It seems many moms are now saying, well at second look it is no so bad, perhaps it IS just a costume.

Newsy.com has provided THIS clip about the reactions to the mommy squeals. What do you think now? Has your views changed?

Katy Perry and Self Image

All over the mom circuit today, I have been hearing complaints and trash talking about the Katy Perry Sesame Street video clip that hit YouTube. I just read an article stating that her clip, to air this season on Sesame Street has now been pulled after moms united and raised hell saying her clothing was too racy and would give their tots the wrong self image. So I went on over to YouTube and had myself a little watch, just to see what all the fuss was about.

GIVE ME A BREAK PEOPLE!

I am a mom of a daughter. I watched the video and whoop do freaking do. She is dressed up as a pixie princess type chick singing with Elmo. How about this for thought...all those moms that spent so much time today YouTube watching and complaining about how their child's self image is going to be put in jeopardy; how about these women take that same amount of time to learn how to promote positive self images of their children when faced with media influences that steer towards a potential negative self image influence. And instead of watching the video over and over, spend that time with their daughters. Teach them not to be followers. Teach them to be able to decipher what trash is from treasure and to treat themselves with respect. Give them the foundation to be able to recognize and make GOOD positive informed choices for themselves in regards to the negative influences that will in fact be thrust at them on a daily basis.

The world is not a sugar free candy coated playground with no sharp edges. Although we do not need to thrust negative self image material in our children's faces, we do need to expose them to it while we can help them learn from it. We must not shelter our children as this will only result in horrific outcomes. We need to teach our children from early on to have self respect. And something as minor as Katy Perry wearing a pixie fairy outfit on Sesame Street singing a catching tune with Elmo seems like a good enough spot to start.

Haven't seen it? Watch it and let me know what you think?

Terrible two's already???

In a few short months darling Baby DIVA will be turning 2! Yes that is right 2 whole years. Now we might still have 3 months to go until this milestone, but Baby DIVA is already setting the ground for what is in store.

TANTRUMS!
Oh my! She has mastered this artful 2 year old skill and is holding nothing back.
Here have a look at one of her more recent minor throw downs:

And here we have a still shot of a tantrum in progress:

Gotta love it. What do you do during tantrums? Do you walk away? Laugh and video your kids like I do? Or do you console them? How long do you let them cry?

Baby Bikini??

H4L heard a snazzy little blurb on his morning commute radio show, Roula and Ryan this morning. They were discussing this certain clothing website and whether or not it was a joke or in fact real clothes. He arrived at work and had a look at the website. He told me later that he was “appalled” at what he saw and then sent a link to me to see what I had to say about it.

I quickly pulled up the website, Babikini and found something incredibly horrifying. Babies in leopard print string bikinis. Being paraded around out in the public eye, for all the pedophiles to gawk at. SERIOUSLY! This clothing line specializes in string bikinis in an assortment of sexy bold fabrics for the tiniest female; you know birth through age 7!

Why in the hell would you want your infant/toddler/kindergarten child to be sexy? To be strolling around the tot spot at the local pool promoting them as sex appeal. Are you freaking kidding me? It’s not cute. It’s plain out trashy and distasteful! It infuriates me that there are ONE), clothes with these types of sexual undertones that are marketed to such a young market via their parents , and TWO) that there are parents out there who see nothing wrong with allowing their toddlers to stroll around in clothing whose main goal is aimed at sex appeal to men. Grown men!

As parents we strive to keep our children safe, to protect them as best we can from the malicious adversities found out in the world. We work for years to teach our children right from wrong and how to lead a balanced socially and emotionally successful life. When I come across things like this, a clothing line that is aimed at little girls as young as birth, which aims to teach them to be sex kittens from way too early on, I get enraged. We wonder why more and more of our children are becoming promiscuous at such an early age. We wonder why our young woman are losing respect for themselves and acting out in wild and destructive behaviors stemming from sex beginning in the tween age. We ponder the possibilities that it is just kids being kids. In reality we as society are allowing this to happen to our children.

We are stripping our children of their childhood. Allowing them to grow up way to fast. Allowing them to embrace a sexual side of humanity that is just not appropriate for their age. They are infants. They are children. They should be concerned with Marco Polo and how to float on their back, not if their string bikini is tied correctly and showing enough skin.

I have Hot Pink Hair in my 30’s and I find it okay to spank my child when needed. Some may say I am not the “norm” as societal mothers go today. But I have found that I am have become more and more strict as a parent. I may have some non conventionalness about me but I am an old prudie when it comes to my child. I don’t find string bikinis “Cute” on my daughter. Not because the bikini isn’t cute, Hell when I was 20 and perky I would have worn it, but that is just it. When I was 20 years old; Not 20 months old. I don’t doubt Baby DIVA would be adorable in her little bikini, but I don’t want her projecting “sex” to everyone she encounters while in it. Sure you may not think she is projecting sex by simply wearing tiny piece of fabric, but the hairy dude in the corner might not. It’s just inappropriate. Plain ridiculous and appalling. We don’t need to see sexy toddlers. Let them be kids!

Thoughts?

Infecting the Public

As you know Baby DIVA is at the tail end of Hand, Foot and Mouth disease. A very contagious yet not too severe illness that children are prone to catching. It can be quite painful, but does pass within a week to 10 days usually leaving without any residual damage. I personally would rather that Baby DIVA not have to experience this childhood illness at all. I wish I could wipe it away with a swift pass of a boogie wipe and we could be on our way. But, I also am aware that kids are kids and love to play with one another and at such a young age do not understand the ramifications of eating each other’s boogers, but they WILL be taught.

I am unsure as to where exactly we may have been exposed to the germs that brought about this illness. And honestly, the Who’s the What’s and the Where’s are irrelevant to me. What is relevant is the fact that more and more parents are taking their children out into the public population, to day care, to play dates, for strolls in the park, to all places in the community, while they are festering and brewing and actively ill. More and More parents are turning a blind eye to the coughing, sneezing, warm to the touch child of theirs and are self diagnosing their kids as having “allergies”. Pediatricians are not being visited as frequently and simple childhood illnesses are turning into small epidemics within many social circles.

Source

Why are parents doing this? The reasons are numerous. Many parents cannot afford to miss a day of work, just because their child is sick. (in my mind a sick child IS justification to not only miss work, but to hold the sick child in your arms for as long as needed, but that is just me.) These parents not only cannot afford to miss work, they cannot afford the cost of the doctor visit, the medicine that may be needed or the cost to get to other clinic itself. Horrifying if you ask me and I could go on and on and on about this matter alone, but that is not the point I am intending today.

Many parents are unaware that their sniffling, sneezing hot to the touch child is actually sick because they are so consumed by their own lives that that little thing that tags along with them daily is merely another piece of their outfit. Or these parents simply have labeled this sneeze and cough as another allergy and send the child on about their way. Either way parents are turning a blind eye to the situation.

The reason that parents willingly bring their children out into the mass population that just infuriates me to no return is the parents that just do not give a crap. The parents understand their child is sick. The parents have taken their child to the doctor and yet they still go on about their day. These parents have errands to run. Parties to attend. Gossip to be had. None of which they feel can be missed just because a child is sick and contagious and could possibly infect anyone he or she comes in to contact with. And so it goes that this parent takes their kid on to the birthday party and infects all the children at the event, including those who just happen to be in the same facility that day. Those poor unsuspecting parents of the newly infected children will wake up in a few days with a sick child and not know where they illness sprang from. And then the cycle starts all over again.

source

I have personally seen and experienced this type of parental behavior in regards to a sick child. These people choosing to attend an event with a child whom they knew was ill and super contagious, but they did not want to change their plans, or find a sitter for the ill child. This type of behavior is probably the reason behind Baby DIVA’s breakout of Hand, foot, Mouth disease. Some parent who willingly took their child out and POOF passed on the illness to everyone they came in to contact with, which this time included us. This angers me to a degree that is surpasses any words. I despise this kind of behavior. I will go out of my way to keep Baby DIVA home whenever she is ill, mainly so she has a safe environment for her own body to heal in, but also to prevent the spread of illness to ANYONE else. I feel as a parent that is my job, not only to my own daughter, but to other children. But I guess that is just me.

Please share with me your thoughts. I am interested in hearing all points of view on this issue. I would like some input from moms, dads, grandma’s whoever, about their personal thoughts in regards to this issue.

Scissor hand-mom

Right after the birth of Baby DIVA, I went to cutting on my nails. I was so afraid I was going to hurt this precious angel. I was terrified that my nice long nails would snag on her perfect skin and I just knew the horror I would feel if I caused any harm to this wonderful creature. So I chopped and I chopped. I think back now and remember just how sore my fingers were because I chopped WAY too much. Beginner mom idiot move. You live and you learn, right?

Fast forward to present day. My nails are back. Baby DIVA has been toddling about for some time and her perfect skin has received quite a few bumps and bruises of her own making. But I still felt a touch of that horror this week when I snagged a nail and before I could file it down I cut my child's face by accident.

I felt like the most demonic Pink Haired Scissor hand mom on the face of planet. Many screams from precious Baby DIVA erupted, that were quickly hushed by my hugs and kisses. And now right in time for Easter pictures, I, the greatest mom on earth, have left my mark on my daughter that I have feared since day one; and now the memories will be preserved in pictures forever! Fabulous!



Have you had a similar happening? Please share with me so I don't feel like such an Ass!!

Porcelain Throne and the Laptop

Imagine for a moment the bathroom in your home. You envision the lovely porcelain basin there for your sitting pleasure. Your stack of important reading material close by, for those longer than expected moments. If you are a mom, it is quite possible you will see this image as a fabulous place of calm and quiet. I know for a fact that I am not the only mom out there that will shamelessly fib to her husband and kids about needing some time in the john, only because this grants her 10 minutes of silent alone time, and therefore the fib doesn't count. Ahhhh! Quiet. You reach for that new fashion magazine, er! parenting magazine, because again we are moms and we just can not stop, EVER. So instead we read the fashion or trash mag followed by our parenting mag, right?

Recently, I found myself following suit and doing the fib to H4L, "I need some time alone on the pot", only to discover I had with me a new "reading" material. Some how I managed to sneak myself into alone time, locked behind the door, propped up on the porcelain throne of peace and quiet, and there I was TYPING away. That is right my friends. Some how my cute little pink laptop has made its presence known in the bathroom. I have stooped this low. I have become that mom that fibs to the family for alone time and then is on the internet while active in the fib! Facebook, email, web surfing, I might have even made a purchase or two in there. My oh my what a treat I have found. My good friend "john" has shown me the way to quiet surf time!

Now what is really awesome, is you my readers will now always wonder, "Did she write this blog post while sitting on the pot?" HA!

The Little Guy

After a long hard day of being a mom, you find yourself wiped out yet again. You have been going strong since 6am talking and teaching and cooking and cleaning and answering to the every whim of the call "MOM". Your feet are exhausted. Your head aches. Your mind is a blur. All you want to do is fall into bed, close your eyes and drift off to the land that birth control remembered. Then you remember that last load of laundry that needs to go into the dryer, no you can not just leave it there over night because this is actually the 4th time you have washed this same load this week because of "just leaving it there". So you stumble off to put that last load in the dyer, you hear your pillow calling as you hurriedly complete your task.

And then you find it...

This little guy

The little guy that reminds you of why all the aches and pains and exhaustion are worth it. The little thing that makes your heart flutter and allows you to melt away into the love of being a mom. The little thing, that even for just a moment, allows you to forget that your pillow is beckoning you to come quick.

This little guy. A single memento of parenthood, hiding in the laundry, washed 4 or 5 times because you are lazy and tired and exhausted. A tiny reminder that no matter how exhausted you become, finding a little guy hiding in your laundry will ALWAYS bring out a smile and a compassionate feeling of love for your child and the art of being a mom , exhaustion and all. This little guy is the root of exhaustion, the root of your happiness, the root of this little person that brings so much exhaustive joy to your life.

Red Light

Have you ever noticed how becoming a parent changes your viewpoint on just about everything?

Take stop lights for instance. I recall a time when I used be that stupid loon that would floor it and "go for the gold", if you know what I mean. I would get all flustered and fussy and some choice words might escape my lips if a red light caught me in a long pause and ruined my cruise about the streets of town. Now these were the days of tube tops without back fat and having the sun roof open, radio blaring and letting the sun kiss my my perfectly tanned skin.

Now that I am a Pink Haired Momma with a huge SUV of a ride (that I commonly refer to as the toddler limo) and pasty white skin, I welcome red lights, for the most part, or rather at least when Baby DIVA is chilling out in the back seat. Red lights provide the perfect 90 second time frame to find that missing pacifier; To hunt down that tossed sippy cup; To spin my head around and make up an impromptu comedy routine complete with facials, hand gestures and scratchy fabulous singing to whatever happens to be on the radio (commercials included) that will invoke laughter out of my kiddo; To reach into the "goodie bag" and reveal a special entertaining new toy for the Babe! Ah!, yes red lights are now my friend. They are fabulous. They are 90 seconds of a car ride that are not full of Baby banter or screams that are inconsolable. Found pacifiers, sippys, toys and goofy momma dances provide 90 whole seconds of Baby laughter!

And I even find myself longing for an extra red light or two when I happen to be alone in the toddler limo. You see alone momma time is few and far between. I admit I find satisfaction when coming home from the grocery to have an extra 90 seconds of alone time to jam to the radio without having to turn around and provide comic relief to a screaming child. Now I just scratchy fabulous sing out loud to a comedy routine just for me! Who knew!

Baby DIVA speaks!

As I have previously mentioned, Baby DIVA no longer finds it acceptable for me to feed her. She has taken over and completely enjoys feeding herself. Honestly I think she likes making the most gigantic mess ever in the history of kitchens (gets bigger every night) and then watching Pink Haired Momma clean it up while her and daddy giggle on the couch.

Tonight while I was again watching as Baby DIVA smashed peas up and decorated my floor, I had no idea that peas could get even more mushed than they are after a blender whirl, but Baby DIVA figured it out. Anyway I was watching and Baby DIVA was getting mad. I guess I was standing too close to her; I might reach over and give her the spoon and BOY she is not having that. So she looks right at me and yelps out "MOM"!!!!

Baby DIVA SPEAKS!!! Her first real decipherable word is MOM!! I was so excited. And it just so happened that Hubbs-to-be was standing nearby and witnessed this marvelous milestone as well (secretly i am giving myself a pat on the back because she said MOM first)!

MOM MOM MOM now I must teach her to say "Pink Haired".

Stomach bug and motherhood

WOWSERS!!!

Can I just say that being a mom, pink haired and all, and having the stomach flu are two things that should NEVER EVER happen to a women at the same time!!!!

I spent the last 24 solid hours pretending to smile in front of my sweet loving Baby DIVA, while secretly wanting to die on the inside. Baby DIVA thought it was the coolest 24 hours ever because Pink Haired goofy momma laid on the floor with her all day and "played" with her. If she only knew i was just trying to keep her entertained and quiet until Hubbs-to-be came home because the throbbing headache that accompanied the stomach bug was horrendous!! It was horrible. We laid on the floor watching Wubbzy, not the greatest for stomach bug and headache sickness, however totally fabulous Baby DIVA distractor when Pink Haired Momma sprinted to the porcelain god every 20 minutes all day. Luckily late evening I ate some chicken broth with crackers and sucked down and sprite that Hubbs-to-be brought home for me and began to feel better.

Definitely not a pairing that I ever want to repeat!! Glad Baby DIVA has a happy go lucky attitude and enjoyed her "playtime" with Pink Haired Momma on the floor!!!