Amanda Fails At Being One of THOSE Moms, Edition: REALLY BIG NUMBER

I could kid myself and say it would have been an emotional day filled with special pancakes and extra care in the shirt-picking-out arena. But, that could be a partial lie.

Ok, I would have still made him pancakes, but it would be the same pancakes I make every school morning - the kind out the freezer section and done under a minute. However, I would have picked a shirt that didn't already show the wear-and-tear of the Preschool Life, permanently marked with the badge of all that is 3-year-old Kindergarten better known as purple grape juice. 

I am proud to say that without prior notice that today would be Conner's last day of school, I did wash his hair in the sink before school, although he protested every single second. I am a little less proud to say that the quick wash wasn't for Last Day of School Pomp but more because it  looked as if he'd slept in a batch of french fries.

So yes. Today was Conner's last day of Pre3s. No, I didn't know until I went to pick him up and each child came out with a personalized sand bucket, obligatory laminated hand print art and the letter of the day... "Z" (which meant !THE E    ND!). 

"See you on Thursday at the party!" says Mrs. Conner's Teacher.

"Ah. Oh! What?" I reply in my most dumbfounded tone.

She directs me to The Room Mom, who then informs me that the party would be at her house, to bring a bathing suit and that they'd have a slip-n-slide.

Which means ONE thing: FAIL!

No end of the year gift. No special breakfast. No extra time to pick out an unstained shirt. No "aww.. honey! Today's your LAST day!". No, I just threw him in class, blew some kisses, and went home to... umm.. do laundry? No, you guys don't believe me (for good reason...).

No special cupcakes delivered or perfectly inspired and coordinated gifts for his classmates, just me and a dumb look.

We didn't get the month's calendar because we were on vacation and then flooded out last week.

My fault? Eh. I mean... not totally.

But, should I have known? Well, I knew it was coming (I do know my month's of the year, and I've noticed an influx in young people being out during the daytime...)

To say I'm bad at these kinds of things would be the understatement of the year. I don't get parties and their rules or gifts and their rules. To me, it's just like I feel we should all come together once a year and swap money with each other. In the end, that's what we are doing, right?

I can bring the 4th batch of cupcakes to this party. Who needs another batch of  cupcakes? I am, for the record, going to call Room Mom and ask if she needs anything, because seriously, she's amazing. But, I feel like I missed something.

Maybe I missed out of the ritual of it all - the extra special "It's your LAST day of Kindergarten with Mrs. Conner's Teacher BABY!". I mean, don't I owe Conner that? Totally.

But the rest of this stuff? The goodie bags and 12 dozen individually decorated cupcakes? It's just not something I get.

The teacher gift I understand. She put up with Crap-a-la Conner for 10 months. Does the Liquor Store sell gift cards? Surely, that's an appropriate gift (and if not appropriate, certainly warranted). 

For those of you who are good at this stuff, kudos. Not. Me.

HAPPY LAST DAY OF THREE YEAR OLD PRESCHOOL THAT IS ALREADY OVER WITH AND WE ARE HOME EATING LUNCH, CONNER!! MOMMA LOVES YOU!!!

That's good enough, right?

Selfish or Selfless: The Baby Debate Continues

Wanting another little person, little smiles and little feet... little fingers and toes and kissable tummies and cheeks, wanting all those things is not selfish. It's natural.

But already having those things, packaged into the most adorable little people known as Chase and Conner and still wanting more, is that selfish?

It's very selfless to be a mother. To give up sleep and energy, careers and oodles of cash (or I'd like to THINK oodles of cash if I were working), is pretty selfless. You give and give and give, and aside from the heartmelting hugs and nights when you catch them sleeping all angelic like, most parents don't get a meaningful "thanks for everything" until said children are in their 20-somethings IF they are lucky.

It takes patience, luck, tears, some serious balance, and lots of love to parent two small children - and sometimes, it can be the most under appreciated job on the planet. You scrub boogers off walls, pick dirt out of ears, fight tooth-and-nail over teeth that need brushing and short-order cook yourself silly for your tiny Nazi children.

It's selfless to want more of that. To offer everything and not expect more than sharing the life of a child.

But, is it selfish to want more? Possibly, it's the most selfish thing anyone able to produce babies can do AND it almost seems like those of us who are fortunate enough to have more children are selfish to stop, too. I am no stranger to the Infertility community online (try The Stirrup Queen, she's amazing). I feel for those families, and it makes me think that I'm selfishly being comfortable with just two. Just. Two. Isn't that enough?

I once said that I didn't want to have a second after Conner because I thought "if I am this bad of a mother, if I can't get the dishes clean or the laundry done or some other mundane task completed, then how could I ever add another little person to the mix and expect anything to get better."

I thought that I'd be a worse mother if I had two kids, like twice the mess would make me half the mother.

But I couldn't have been more wrong. I think I've quoted her on this subject before, but I'll say it again, Staci once told me that you just do what you have to do. That's it.

She's so right.

Yes, I complain. I complain more in person that I do on here (could that even be true? yes. yes, it is). When I can't get the laundry caught up, and the dishes are mounting and I'm the only person who's picked up a toy in a week, I loose it. It's incredibly frustrating. And to do all that The Mom Job requires is selfless. Very, very selfless.

Selfish to want another? Selfless to raise that child. What a pickle.

Revenge Tastes of Strawberry Yogurt

I had a nice post for today, all about mommy hood, parenting and all that jazz. 

BUT, I spent the latter half of my mother's day violating Dora, and honestly, it's way better than some thought provoking blog on The Mom Job.

Instead, I present to you, The Mom Job: Vindicated Edition.

-------------------

Chase woke early Sunday morning in a generally irritable state. He wouldn't sit still for long, acting a bit cranky, and I wrote it off as him finally getting his lower two teeth (the ones on the side, he has 4 top, 2 bottom middle at 17 months).

Michael's family came for late lunch to visit, and his mother carried Chase around outside in the balmy 90-degree weather for a spontaneous water gun fight. When Chase came in around 1:30, after a short jog around with a wet, hot diaper half-filled with sand particles and poo, in an exceptionally irritable mood, I didn't blame him. I changed him and noted that his "area" looked equally as irritated and threw some diaper rash ointment on the matter and whisked him off to Nap Land.

*I use this stuff for the bad diaper rash, it works fastest and contains oat essence and willow herb along with zinc-oxide: 

He fell asleep almost instantly after spreading his tiny legs as wide as they'd go in a frog-like poition. 

"Poor kid..." I thought.

He woke, even more angry, several hours later. I changed his diaper only to discover that his "diaper rash" was not diaper rash at all, it had spread down his thighs, up his crack and his Family Jewels were now swollen 2-3 times more than normal. I'd seen this before in Conner - yeast infection.

(Quick Mommy Note: Yes, boys get yeast infections. Actually, one of the few "down sides" to breastfeeding is that your baby is receiving constant antibodies, which kills both the "good stuff" and the "bad stuff". Thus, yeast infection)

I called the FIL (Dr. he is), requested an Rx for Nystatin to be called into our 24-hour pharmacy, called said pharmacy who in turn informed me that it would be between 1-2 hours. Wonderful.

In the mean time, Chase cranked up the cranky, and couldn't walk. He would stop and squat and cry. I took his disposable diaper off  and put on a cloth one, as I know they are more breathable (I stopped short of letting him roam free, he IS a boy... and boys and their toys is a different blog post all together).

It was when he started just sitting and crying that I googled "home remedy for yeast infection in toddler". Numerous results came back with anti-fungal cream this and special mineral oil that, none of which I had. But one result kept popping up that I did have, but I chuckled off at first: "apply probiotic yogurt directly to affected area" it said....

I kept searching, laughing with Michael about how we only had Dora the Explorer Yoplait Strawberry flavored yogurt, and that I didn't think that was how Nickelodeon had intended Dora be treated.

But, then there was Chase - crying, swollen and clearly in need of instant relief. We fetched the little Spanish speaking fat-faced girl and her monkey with shoes side-kick from the fridge. I turned to ask "Do you think he'll want Strawberry or Cherry?". Michael shrugged that it didn't matter, "he's not eating it". Ah, good point.

We undressed Chase and placed him in the tub. I peeled off the top of the yogurt and Michael and I looked at one another and laughed nervously, again. 

I'll spare you who won the honor of becoming the Applicator, but there stood my darling 17-month old baby boy, Family Jewels deep in Dora and Boots.

I stopped. Suddenly, all these years of "Da da Dora, dadada Dora, DORA THE EXPLORER!" and "I'm the map, I'm the map, I'm the map, I'm the map, I'm THE MAPPPPP" came crashing into my cerebellum. For so long, I'd wanted to take that little fat-faced girl, monkey and cousin Diego to Customs and kick their hind quarters back to whichever Spanish-speaking country they'd come from. Oh how they annoyed me so.

And now? Now I'm spreading you allllllll ova my son's testicles and smiling because THIS is what sweet revenge tastes like - strawberry flavored yogurt.

----------------

Chase spent the next hour slathered in Dora's fruits and his berries became notably less irritated. He took a luke warm bath and sat naked with Michael and Conner for the next hour as I retrieved the prescription.

This morning, he is still swollen and irritable, but getting better. 

And I, on the other hand, am feeling vindicated and a quite confident I'll never eat yogurt again.

7 Quick Takes: Edition #7

-1-

It's supposed to be Mother's Day this weekend, right? Then why in the BANANAS are my children and husband driving me crazy? I would like to propose that during the entire week prior to Mother's Day (and your birthday), that the following occur:

•  All Sci-Fi channel "movies" and "shows" be suspended and replaced with Disney movies that play on repeat without commercials. (Husband available to clean, children occupied... check check)
  
• Only ONE lunch and ONE dinner will be cooked, no short orders allowed. If anyone becomes hungry in between those times, the pantry is in the kitchen. Eat whatever.
• Allotment of one hour each night for bubble bathing/eyebrow plucking/toenail painting or just... blogging from the bathroom without interruption.
• At no time shall any of these statements be uttered: "MOMMA!" "Will you _____?" "Are there any clean towels?" "Should I do the dishes?" (seriously, DO YOU HAVE TO ASK?) and "WAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH"

-2-

I fought a monsoon yesterday and to shorten the story I will copy and paste my Facebook status from the situation:

Amanda got up, woke sleeping children, tried to drive Con to school, pulled over twice due to no visibility, shin deep in the parking lot, dropped Con off, turned around to get Con once it was noted that the atrium was flooding from the baptismal, dragged Con and Chase back to car with water up to Con's knees, drove home in 10 inches of water... and is now trying to dry all of our clothes, shoes and bodies. Lesson learned? Stay in bed...

Sadly, a few people died from the freak flash flood, several injured and lots of damage.

-3-

Conner and Michael say the Lord's Prayer every night (I am usually putting Chase down during this time). Last night, I just so happened to partake, and it was heartmeltingly adorable. Michael would say 4 words at a time, and Conner would repeat. 

M: "Our Father..."

C: "Hour Fadda..."

M: "who art in heaven"

C: "who aren't in heben"

M: "hallowed be thy name"

C: "how would be dy name"

....

My favorite:

M: "but deliver us from evil"

C: "but liver us from ebels"

and

M: "for thine is the kingdom"

C: "for hind is da dingdome"

-4-

Have I mentioned how well Chase is sleeping through the night? I really don't want to jinx this, but now I nurse him for about 2 minutes, put him in his crib and JUST LEAVE. That's it. I don't hear from him until almost 8 AM!

Bonkers.

-5-

Want to know a secret? Publix glazed doughnuts are a million times better than Krispy Kreme AND cheaper.

And no one is paying me to say that.

-6- 

You guys remember the package Maggie sent me, right?

Well, in it she included some Ramen... but PEOPLE! It was NOT THE NORMAL RAMEN. I am literally salivating just writing this. It was oniony and asiany and unbelievably awesome. Best part? I can't find it anywhere.

So, Maggie helped and found something similar (Tung I is the brand) on Amazon and I'm going to try that. If it's not comparable? I'm having someone in Seattle send me a box of Ramen and I don't care how much it costs.

My Ramen is now dead to me.

-7-

Speaking of Maggie's Box-O-Cheung, I'm thinking about (finally) doing my giveaway of a Box-O-Amanda next week. Random stuff from my house sounds fun, right? Right.

Oh, and what's a 7 Quick Takes without a picture, here you go:

For More Things to Click and Read, go here.

Boys Will Be Monsters...

I was watching them, swear, but I am only one person.

During Pre-school time yesterday, Chase managed to empty an entire bottle of unopened green apple scented detangling shampoo (a gift, I don't really have a need for it, boys = short hair). I was on the potty, and knew that Chase was playing in the only un-secured bathroom cabinet. Every container in said cabinet is baby & bath related: baby powder, bath bubbles (unopened), a few combs, some duckies, baby lotion (unopened) and one container of plastic sealed tear-free baby wash. 

SOMEHOW - while I was, um, unavailable, Chase managed to unscrew the top and then somehow picked off the aluminum seal on said shampoo.

By the time I was finished, which really wasn't long (and he was 8 feet from me, but blocked from my site by the potty room door), he managed to empty the whole thing and began "drawing" on the floor with it, all over the door leading to the closet and on the cabinets. I cleaned up the mess, and was thankful he didn't get it in his eyes or mouth. 

Flash forward: Lunch time. Conner is home and playing with his rocket ships in the master bedroom and bathroom. I was making lunch when I went to check on him and was met mid-living room by the smell of my favorite Febreeze Air Effects Spray, Baked Sugar Cookies (a seasonal Christmas scent). Normally, this makes my mouth water, but by the time I was in the master bedroom, I was holding back vomit.

He managed to empty an entire can of this stuff in a relatively small space. He tells me he was using it to "blast off", but I still can not comprehend how he was even able to stay in the bathroom. The air was thick with baked cookies and the whole house soon smelled like Santa Died.

It took all day to get rid of the smell and a half can of scrubbing bubbles to get the residue off the bathroom floor.

Get worse? Nah.

Last night, Michael worked late teaching one of his classes so, he wasn't here. I was making dinner when Conner comes to me showing off his freshly washed hands. Note: Conner NEVER washes his hands without scolding. So, the mommy instinct kicked in.

"What was on your hands that you washed off?" I interrogated.

"The purple stuff," he replies.

Hum. Purple stuff. I know of nothing purple... I get to the bathroom and there on the counter top is my $40 Clinique Moisture Surge Moisturizer (the only beauty product I really splurge on as it lasts me almost a whole year and WORKS to both moisturize and not feel heavy - NEVER breaks me out). It's open, and 1/4 of it is missing. I about DIED.

I take him to his room, and talk to him about "asking before you play with something that is not yours" and other similar lessons. He says "I'm so reawwy sowwy" about 15 times and I leave him to marinade on his wrong doings (I hope he did...)

Whilest I was time-outting that child, wanna know what the other did?

Well, sitting quietly in prayer is not the answer. 

He was in the Bathroom of Massacres emptying out ANOTHER BOTTLE OF BABY SOAP THAT HE SOMEHOW OBTAINED OFF THE SHELF ABOVE THE TUB. And this time, he had more skill in the matter and an obvious attack plan. He had it on the shower, IN THE SHOWER, all over the tub, the walls, the cabinets (AGAIN!) and obviously the floor.

I cleaned everything, again.

Once finished, I plopped down on the bed with a sigh as I chatted with Staci about all the mess and the hours of cleaning (and how bad my house smelled, gag). As soon as I finished the story, Conner comes in to tell me something.

"Momma, I spilled my chocolate milk on the floor with my feet".............

All-in-all, I think the days damages amount to something in the 30 to 40 dollar range, at least 10 last nerves, all of my marbles and a dollop of my sanity. Like my mom said yesterday "...and you want another one?". Woman has a point.

Amanda's Blogging Tips: Basics Edition

After my giveaway, a large handful of you contacted me with blog related questions. Some wanted simple bloggy advice, one just wanted me to help her name a new blog, and the larger majority of those who contacted me wanted to know the obvious - how do I get free stuff to review and/or giveaway??

It's the exact same question I found myself asking late last year.

I kept stumbling upon review blogs, or other mommy blogs that had FREE stuff and reviews! The majority of these also had great content, so I enjoyed their blog without the free stuff, but I couldn't help but wonder "how do I get in on that??"

I wasn't completely in the dark, however. I have a bachelor's in Public Relations/Advertising, so I know how the PR gears grind. Companies want their name out, the internet is a wonderful way to do that, and the blogging world is growing by leaps and bounds. One of the biggest criteria for product promotion is to hit your "target market", which for people who read this blog, are mostly women ages 18-45 who share a few things in common (kids, raising hellions, enjoying a good story or two about poo, recycling, husbands that drive them crazy.... you know... that kind of stuff).

Here's my list of a few things you can do get your feet wet, your blog grounded and maybe obtain a few freebies and promo offers. This is just the beginning, blogging basics just for you:

1) CONTENT - I just CAN NOT express the importance of this enough, so here are a few exclamation points for emphasis (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

Here's how the game works - PR companies have clients with products that they are paid to promote. They want to give YOUR blog these products if AND ONLY IF you have a consistent and dedicated readership. The only way to have a solid readership is to not bore the pants off of people. Find a niche, something you think you can consistently blog about.

What's mine? Well, The Mom Job, obviously, but it's a little more than that. I try to keep this website broad, so I can blog about what I want - if I don't like the topic, my posts seem to be boring. And boring content means no readers. See where I'm going with this?

So Step 1: Just write. Write passionately, and post often. You either WANT this or you don't.

2) NETWORK - In the world of mommy bloggers, we are all trying to make connections, share stories, find common ground with other moms so we can look at ourselves in the mirror and say "See, I'm not completely insane! Other mommies have let their children eat doughnuts for every meal, 3 days in a row!"

In my personal experience, this is one of the most rewarding parts of blogging that I didn't expect at all. I've "met" so many moms from all walks of life and locations, but we all share something in common - we blog and we have crazy children who we love with our whole being. I also read a few blogs that aren't "mommy blogs" and fall more under the "humor blogs" category, but some happen to be mothers. I like to pretend I fall in this category sometimes, and that other people who don't have children can enjoy my content. I might be kidding myself though.

Networking means finding other blogs, making friends by leaving comments and in turn, hopefully they'll come to your site and leave a comment back. And if the stars are aligned and the Prozac is flowing, maybe just maybe you'll become bloggy friends (which makes you feel all warm and fuzzy AND your numbers look better - WIN WIN WIN).

3) COMMENT BACK - If you notice in my comments section, I usually comment back to those who are nice enough to leave me "comment love". It's just like if someone on the street said "hey, I LOVE your shoes" and you ignored them. You wouldn't do that, right? NO! You'd tackle them and hump their leg for noticing that you FINALLY are wearing your nice shoes instead of the same flip-flops you've been torturing yourself with for the past 3 years (but sure are comfy).

Commenting back helps deepen your connection with your bloggy friends, and shows that you CARE they took the time to read your blog. Occasionally, it'll lead to further conversations or other blog topics. So, just try and remember that.

4) BE BIPOLAR - Ok, I do not mean that literally, but what I do mean is this - there's nothing worse than stumbling on a blog that is all rays of sunshine, pots of gold, and darling children with farts that smell of daisies. GET A GRIP. Life is life. Be real, be you and for Pete's sake - don't pretend to live in a magazine with perfect children and a perfect husband. Life sucks sometimes, life's great sometimes and life can be outright hysterical sometimes - so blog it all.

5) DE-CLUTTER - Buttons, and pressy things and blog lists are great - in moderation. Once you start posting every. single. one of them though - you look a little needy and I begin to wonder if you are that lady on Oprah who lives amongst life-sized piles of McDonald's toys, 14 hundred collectible cherubs and old plastic bins.

From a PR perspective, companies might be less likely to offer you a product for review/giveaway if they feel their product won't be front and center. If your blog is too AHHH! MY BRAIN IS MELTING, then they are right - the product won't be an attention grabber, and that's not good for business.

And noteworthy, I started this journey in November (well, The Mom Job journey, I've been blogging since 2005ish...and my archives on here back to early 2007), and I just started getting legit offers over the past 8 weeks. This takes time people, be patient.

Next Edition: Stepping Up Your Bloggy Game: How to promote and win the hearts of PR companies. If you have questions you want me to answer, comment away!!

Alright, Who Let My Uterus Blog?

(dually titled: Wifi in my Uteri - harhar)

In case you couldn't see me blushing for the last 48 hours, just know I've been beet red (well, virtually beet red - this is The Internets).

It's not that my last post wasn't completely and exactly 100% what I am thinking and feeling, it's just that I'm either A) going balls out (excuse the term) B) really hormonal or C) absolutely bonkers. It's equally as plausible that I am all of the above or a whacked out combination of some of those letters and any of the 23 letters that follow.

I'm also very confident that shortly post post, my mother freaked out and called my grandmother, who then proceeded in phone-a-friend fashion to alert my aunt and by tomorrow (Sunday), my ovaries and I will probably be on some church bulletin in Pleasant Grove, Alabama as well as the conversation topic at Tuesday's Pot Luck Bingo Night.

Actually, none of that's probably true - my mom is good at staying mum (see what I did there? I slay me).

But the truth of it all, is that there's this kid. And, I've never ever been a "kid person". 

Feel free to do one of two things: 1) Gasp and have a "Oh dear, bless her sweet heart" moment and wonder how ANYONE could not like these blessed angels that walk amongst us AND think to yourself "well, if she's not a kid-person, then why the chicken is she having BABIES and BLOGGING ABOUT it!" or 2) Nod in agreement because at some point in your life, you've had the misfortune pleasure of knowing me pre-crazy monster/child hybridsbaby and were FLOORED when you discovered (stalked?) that I settled down with a wonderful Hubster and 2 amazing wee-ones.

So, this kid. He's just so amazing. Always active, constantly learning, growing daily - and get this: he's MINE:

But the absolutely BONKERS part of this, is that he's not an infant or a baby, not even a toddler anymore. I keep finding him in certain situations in which he looks LIKE A PERSON. And he can do all these... big people things....

...like catching his first fish by himself...

And the next part that makes my entire reproductive system twinge is that I know what happens next! It doesn't STOP! THEY GET BIGGER!

Maybe it's the extra sleep that finally sent a memo from my uterus to my blog (apparently, I'm no longer needed, they've memorized my login information). The memo must have read:

Alert: All necessary reproductive organs. Eyes have observed eldest offspring appears less childlike and more school-ageish. Second offspring now sleeping through night and has rid himself of morning nap. Gear up for Operation: Make Amanda Fat Again, that is all. This message will self-destruct or become blog-worthy in the next 30 seconds....

Yeah, my insides talk just like that.

And they have a point! Or do they... could this be that Baby Clock most mid-twenty-somethings get? But see... I've already DONE this. Got the t-shirt and ultra-cool take home mug with hospital logo and EVERYTHING. I even got the honor of both a "normal" birth and one that ends in tears of delirium followed by 4 months of hell (woot.).

A lot of you said (wonderful) things like: you've got time, and it's ok, I feel your pain, and if you have another, it's fine to want a boy but you'd survive if you had a girl. Several of you went on with your bad selves and wished another baby on me, Donya... that FedEx package is my patented Fertile Juju Pregnancy Sauce, it also comes with a home pregnancy test, enjoy. 

Many of you pointed out that Someone Bigger Than Me (ok, I'm 4'10", almost ALL of you are bigger than me...) (I meant GOD) has His plan, and I should keep my so fresh and so clean clean (thanks swine flu) paws out of the Worry Department and more in the Raise The Kids You Have and See What Happens Department. As always, all of you made excellent points (and as always, I heart all of your faces...).

I can do that? Right? Let Go and Let God? But what about all that baby stuff? For now, let it sit and multiply.