It’s been four years since I first became a mom.  Four years since I added our pediatrician, 911, and our priest to the speed dial.  Four years since the baby book became one of my limbs.  Hiccup, baby book, bowel movement, baby book, blotchy redness, baby book. Baby book all the live long day.  

Today I would like to tell that crazy, nervous, overprotective first time mom, to CHILLAX! ( that’s chill and relax at the same time)   Don’t make him do the laundry again, I’m sure Tide is just like Dreft detergent.  Think of the Dreftless kids in Africa, they survive.  Special baby laundry detergent is a scam!

Think about it, don’t be crazy.  That Pottery Barn crib bedding costs more than your bedding!  YOU are potty trained, and you hardly ever puke in your sleep anymore.  Pottery Barn bedding for you, Target bedding for the baby, that’s the smart way to go.

Oh and I’ve looked in to putting a tracking device on that sacred pacifier.  It’s a smart investment.  I know you thought it would be real cute to buy a pacifier in every color to coordinate with his outfits, but he only likes the one with that creepy bunny on it.  Creepy bunny pacifier is your friend, guard it with your life!

Finally, stop looking ahead to the day he walks, the day he talks, the day he is self sufficient.  Enjoy that you are his everything.  Carry and cradle him every chance you get,  because if you try that when he’s 4 you’re gonna get bitch slapped!  

Happy Birthday baby boy.

 

Important Disclaimer☞ I think your a bad ass all up in Mr. McGreggors garden Peter rabbit.   Not a bit creepy, not really.  Just a joke, you understand.

 

Later that day☟

 ☜Waiting for their ride to Chuck E. Cheese

Cake and presents ☟

 

 

 

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My kids have been uncharacteristically coordinated around my Flip video camera.  Good for them, bad for my dreams of YouTube fame and fortune.  I had a great vision for my thousand part series entitled I laugh When They Fall, but what can I do?  Gravity is their new homeboy, except of course when daddy’s in charge.

 

  

⇧This is what happens when daddy’s in charge.  The most glorious busted lip to date.  I can’t help but laugh when I see him.  It’s fantastic!  From some angles he looks just like Roxie Hart.  Other times I see Clark Gable.

I’m sure you’re thinking I’m a terrible mother for laughing, but falls happen.  If your anything like mini me they happen often and without provocation.  No slippery floors or banana peels required, just a hefty dose of my clumsy gene.  I always rush to their aid.   Do a silly dance to stop the crying, apply Neosporin as needed, then laugh, away from them, quietly, with my hand over my mouth… Is that so bad?

Ah ha moment people! Ah ha moment!☟  

Lately I’ve been concerned with my sons limited vocabulary.  They can speak enough to get themselves out of a pinch.  Please and thank you, hungry, thirsty, I’m not eating that, this sort of thing.  Still, I feel they should know more and by taking a moment to listen to my sons I’ve now realized what I’ve been doing wrong.

Here’s what I’ve heard my sons say ☟

-That’s not a toy!

-Alright! That’s enough!

-Shush! Oprah’s on!

-Don’t shush me!

You get the picture.  They learn what they hear, and sadly this is what they hear.  I’m not proud of it, but I’m aware of the situation and I’m on it.  

I’ve started narrating our entire day, and I’m happy to report it seems to be working.  Here are the latest additions to their vocabulary ☟

-Mommy is washing the dishes.

-Mommy is sweeping the floor, AGAIN!

-Mommy is going to Stater Bros., ALONE!

-We are having Butterfingers and Cheetos for lunch because mommy went to the casino instead of Stater Bros.

I’m sure one day I’ll regret I encouraged them to speak, but today it’s progress, and I’m thrilled.

A while back I joked about my sons being the future Jonas Brothers.  The truth is, I would never feel comfortable exploiting my children that way.  Placing them on display for the whole world to judge.   It makes me sick.  Just sick.  That said, I don’t even know why I keep comparing them.  Frankly, my kids have more talent in their diapers than all those Jonas boys combined.  It’s the truth.  

I can make you wait until their first album drops in 10 years to prove it, but what kind of host would I be?  Please indulge me by watching 30 seconds of the mind blowing talent that is my sons… do yourself a favor and stick around for the baby’s big finish (reminds me of my “working the cage” days).  

 

* For the record I never ever worked the cage… I don’t even know what that means really… I’m why sexy left.

I’m so glad you’re here.  I’ve waited so long for you.  I have such high hopes for us, it’s unfair really.  Today you’ll live in my pocket, my purse, my Mac, but eventually I’ll move on, and so will you.  I expect you’ll live in the junk drawer for a few months. Gradually you’ll make your way to the kids toy box, first the indoor one, then the outdoor one.  

One day I’ll discover you near the dog’s bed chewed up beyond recognition, and for a moment I’ll be truly sad. Then I’ll shrug my shoulders and dismiss the pain with the same reasoning that brought you in my life “Oh well, It’s only 140 bucks.”  And when I’m old and sick and the only medication that makes life bearable costs exactly that, I’ll remember you as a waste of money. 

Not today my Flip.  Today you’re just a glorious waste of my time, and I love you.  Welcome to the family.

Please indulge me by watching this 12 second gem.  It’s the first installment of what will likely be a thousand part series I call-

I laugh when they fall☟ 

” DIEGO!  IF YOU DON’T STOP DOING THAT I’M GOING TO “(… hmm... what do I threaten him with  … come on say something… anything… fast he’s sensing weakness… “KILL YOU!!”   

OOPS! S_ _T, F_ _ _K, S_ _T! **  Back out of the room slowly, real casual… Don’t panic!  He’s only 3, he doesn’t even know what that means.  He’s only 3.  Calm down, he won’t even remember.  Walk back in to the room like nothing happened… Good see, he’s hitting his brother again, he wasn’t even paying attention.  

Fast forward to this weekend, and another kiddy birthday party.  We’re among family and friends.  Not good friends  like the ones you can compare credit scores with, but friends that can possibly become good friends if we continue pretending to like one another.

“Mommy open this ” ( a Blow Pop) 

“No”

“Mommy pweese!”

“No!”

“Mommy…”

 “Hmm?”

“I’m  gonna kiw you”

 

 

… 

 

Note to self☞ Make sure the boy’s not around when you’re talking credit scores with good friends.

** someday I’ll be old enough to spell these words out like The Bean  


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On a some what related note I’d like to introduce you to the highlight of my weekend ☟

 

 

 When I suggested Aaron could grow up to be a fireman at his birthday party☟, our young guests were quick to correct me.  ” NO! He’s going to be a Jonas brother!”   Now that I know how much money they make who they are, I have to say that I’m completely smitten with the idea.

 I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this but I happen to be the proud mother of 3 boys , which would make the three of them brothers. I  assume that the young girls based their suggestion  on this fact alone, little do they know my boys are riddled with talent.  

Important Disclaimer☞This may be one of those clips that only I find cute, because I’m his mother.

 

Get in line little girls, get in line!