Priorities.

There are several things that go through the average mother’s mind when she hears her child scream. Usually. Unless you’re me.
When I hear one my girls shrieking from the other room, my brain goes into ‘priority mode’. It actually amazes me how quickly my brain can analyze the type of scream. Then, of course, based off of the analysis, I determine the priority level, then decide if I’m even really going to do anything about it. It’s kind of like when moms know the specific cries of their newborns.

The single scream: priority level 5 : from Haley: Harper is existing near her, from Harper: something inanimate isn’t moving out of the way or Haley is existing hear her, in general: someone’s not sharing something.
Action: fight to the death.

Harper’s extended scream of doom: priority level 3: Harper has something she probably shouldn’t and Haley is looking at her.
Action: yell for them to stop since that scream will not end itself.

Haley’s extended scream of doom: priority level 4 (if followed by crying, priority level 2): this one is a gamble. The scream alone probably means Harper is standing, sitting, or jumping on Haley and it’s annoying her. If followed by a cry, she’s probably actually hurt.
Action: yelling ‘knock it off’ should do the trick, unless there is crying.. crying means I need to investigate.

Screaming in unison: priority level 5: they’re fighting over something.
Action: nah.

THAT scream: priority level 1: you know what I’m talking about. That one scream that means bad is happening. Someone’s hurt. Hurt or stuck. If it’s Harper, I will probably end up either laughing or crying. If it’s Haley, bad is happening. OR her sister took one of her coveted stuffed animals/her blanket because that shit is no joke. Or she’s hurt.
Action: time to go in and laugh, cry, or lay down the law.

There is a lot of wiggle room. Judgments are passed, decisions made, actions executed, but at the end of the day, these general guidelines seem to be pretty accurate. Again, when amazes me is the fact that my brain cycles through all of this each tome one of those little monkeys screams… no wonder I’m so freaking tired at the end of the day!

 

A Little Somethin’ Somethin for my Mommas and Betics and A Sneak Peek!

Tonight, my best friend is flying in from California with her kiddies to see me for a little less than 2 weeks. I am beyond excited and will most likely be busy visiting (since I’ve seen her once in the past almost 3 years!) I figured, rather than leave you with nothing, I would leave you with a little somethin’ somethin’ to remember me while I’m on blog-vaca.

For my diabetic readers:

(please keep in mind that if you can’t laugh at yourself, then what CAN you laugh at? I don’t find diabetes to be a joke… no need to get all righteous here, but I can laugh at my disease, can you?)

 

 

 

FOR MY PARENT READERS:

 

ALSO! 

This is my 99th post! If you can math, then you will know that my following post will be the big 1-0-0! Pretty exciting stuff. I want to do something fun for it (like a GIVEAWAY!) I have a little while to think about it but some input would be nice too. IF you have any suggestions, leave them in the comment box below and maybe we’ll go for it!

Remember to stay tuned and check back to see what’s going on for my 100th blog-aversary!

10 Ways Living With a Toddler is Like Being in Prison

REBLOGGED THIS FROM MOMMY HAS A POTTY MOUTH:

As a parent, your schedule is often dictated by the needs of your child, especially when that child is young. With that in mind, many aspects of the parenting experience could be compared with prison – complete with a sadistic little warden who harbors a Napoleon complex. ;)

10 Ways Having a Toddler is Like Being in Prison

  • You can’t do anything without constant supervision
  • Every morning begins with someone screaming at you to wake up
  • You’re always terrified something bad will happen when you’re in the shower
  • You’re always terrified someone is going to crawl into your bed in the middle of the night
  • Meal time is fraught with tension
  • Someone’s always watching you go to the bathroom
  • You never get to choose the movie and then it’s hard to hear it over all the hooting and hollering
  • You’re always terrified someone is going to punch, bite, tackle, stab or attack you with some kind of makeshift weapon
  • Contraband — like booze, chocolate and adult entertainment — must be smuggled in and consumed in secret
  • Conjugal visits are hard to come by, require intense scheduling, and are often interrupted

 

BONUS: One Way Having a Toddler is NOT Like Being in Prison

  • Being placed in solitary confinement is a reward, not a punishment

(source: huffpostparentsDad and Buried)

 

Motherhood and High School (my first number!)

This is nothing to do with mothering a high schooler nor does it have anything to do with being a mother in high school. This, instead, is a comparison.

For me, and I just realized this the other day, motherhood is sort of like going to high school. Maybe being the new kid or something? I’m not sure which. There is definitely an element of being out of place and finding your way that brings me right beck to my school days.

Haley started camp in the beginning of the summer (which she loves, by the way). I’m a young mom, as you know. Younger than any of the other moms that are there for sure. Sometimes I stick around and try to meet the other moms, but usually I just hurry off the gym or home, intimidated. How did these moms get to be at the cool kids table and I didn’t? THIS IS MY DELUSION.

Anyway, you get it.

So on Wednesday, in the middle of my awful day from hell, I met up with a mom whose daughter plays with Haley a lot at camp. Guess who got their first mom number? This mom. Oh yes, I did. When I realized how momentous of a thing this was for me, I realized that it felt way too much like being in high school. hence, this post.

Oh. Also, mom who gave me your phone number, this isn’t creepy, right? Like, I’m totally waiting three days to call… don’t want to seem desperate. (that’s a joke)

 

It’s That Time Again…

Funny Haley things!

I made impossible pie the other night (I just posted the recipe, here it is!). Not only do I love it, but it’s a good way to sneak some veggies into the table, usually.

I served it up all hot and fresh and yummy. Harper dove right in and loved it. Haley grabbed the fork and went for it! I was so excited, I thought I was out of the woods and was going to win the veggie war for the day when all of a sudden, she grabbed the fork and, with precision accuracy, carefully extracted a piece of broccoli from the mix, holding it up like a mom who just pound a Playboy under her son’s (or husband’s) bed. I knew I was done for…

Haley: “Mom, what is this?”
Me: “It’s impossible pie, baby. Isn’t it awesome?!”
Haley: “Yeah, but… is this broccoli?!”
Me: “Yeah, Hal. It’s good, just eat it.”
Haley: “Mommy, it’s impossible for me to eat this.”

Why, God? Why me? I can’t even with this kid…. how am I supposed to make her eat her vegetables when she is hysterical about it?! IT’S SO DAMN HARD TO BE MAD! What do you even do?!

Oy vey….

My Kid Wants Me Dead.

I swear it.

She tried to get me killed today.

Traumatic.

Here’s the situation.

Date: 18, April, 2013
Time: 1815 hours 
Location: Grocery store parking lot.
Incident: While putting children into vehicle in
preparation for our departure, 3 male subjects 
approached our vehicle. One subject turned his 
attention to Haley, who noted the attention and 
responded with a quick "What are you looking at?!", 
then turned to me and reiterated, 
"That guy was looking at me!". 
Male subject noted the reaction, shot me a dirty 
look, then continued to an unknown destination. 
Response: Terror, fear, pride, amusement, then 
relief after the fact. 
Lesson: My daughter is not only JUST LIKE ME, 
but also is trying to get me killed.