What Have I Become?

Since our last riveting episode of life in the mommy lane (suburbia edition), Joey has continued to display his incredible talent for picking up the worst phrases that Joe or I might mutter and then parroting them back to us (usually in a public place). Some of his latest little gems include referring to me as “Dearest” or “You Chunk” (thanks Joe) and walking up to a lady in the mall when Joe wouldn’t buy him a piece of gum and asking if he could have some of the pieces in her hand (nice). He also refers to us (Joe, myself, Abby and Bear) as “Hey Family” when he wants our attention and has taken to negotiating just about everything with us like some sort of little con man – we say “one cookie” he says “two cookies”, or “If I’m a goooooood boy, then I get ice cream”. Etc.

Abby continues to be a pretty happy baby for the most part, although she’s showing signs that she’s going to be a real problem as soon as she becomes mobile. She refuses to sit in her little bouncy seat any longer – as soon as I put her down she flips herself over and tries to climb out and then howls when she gets stuck. Even when I lay her down flat she immediately turns over and tries to scoot herself around – the other day I left her within a foot of a magazine on our bed while I took some clothes into the closest and by time I was back 15 seconds later she had flipped herself over, somehow acquired the magazine and had begun eating the cover. She also complains loudly if you try to put her down in a spot she doesn’t deem appropriate at that moment or if you fail to provide a properly warmed bottle at the very second she decides she wants it. On the bright side, she isn’t swearing at me yet and Joey’s blowouts make hers look downright quaint.

The main source of my discontent lately is my growing alarm at the person I am somehow morphing into these days. I realized I had hit a new low when I found myself perusing two new websites – “afullcup.com” and “hotcouponworld.com”. That’s right, I’ve become a “couponer”. You see, the price of gas and food here in NC (and no doubt even more so in the DC Metro area) has gotten completely out of control – as a result, so have my weekly bills from Harris Teeter and Target. Unfortunately, Joe’s paltry professor’s salary and my consulting income haven’t risen at the same rate as our cost of living – which also apparently rises with each child you produce. So, for the past two weeks, I’ve been faithfully cutting and printing coupons for just about everything. The good part about this, is that I’ve saved about $100 over the past week or two on our grocery/diaper/formula/household supply bills – the bad part is that in addition to all my other alarming suburban house frau traits, I am now carrying around a coupon folder and greedily sorting through the Sunday paper ads like they are porn (or in my case, maybe made of chocolate) or something. So, as I was sorting my latest coupon finds earlier today I started to ponder all the differences of the “before” kids me and the “after” kids me. Below is a sample of what I’ve come up with – and I keep thinking of new things to add to it.


Before: Worked in an office/held adult conversations
After: Work from home/try to hold adult conversations while holding a baby and with toddler screaming in the background.

Before: Had a decent wardrobe
After: Wear nothing but jeans and t-shirts – EVERYTHING must be wash and wear (not sure why I’m still hanging on to all my “dry clean” only clothes – they just mock me from their hangers.)

Before: Not exactly abs of steel, but I was in decent shape and didn’t have to give serious consideration to a tummy panel and skirt when bathing suit shopping.
After: Abs of cellulite and the thought of bathing suit shopping makes me want to move to Antarctica.

Before: Thought Happy Hour was a fun way to unwind after work and meet cute boys.
After: Realize Happy Hour was clearly created by desperate parents trying to get through the witching hours and counting the minutes until bedtime.

Before: Kept up with current events.
After: Only current events I’m truly aware of concern where the latest diaper sale is and the most recent potty-training tips.

Before: Social activities included concerts, shopping, lunch with friends, etc.
After: Social activities include Bunco, play dates and the occasional baby shower (thank god they serve alcohol at these!)

Before: Listened to music, read latest books/magazines
After: Know the words to “Thomas the Train” song by heart and find myself humming the “Teletubbies” theme to myself even though it’s like nails on chalk board every time I hear it. Latest book read—Green Eggs and Ham.

Before: Fixed hair and make-up prior to leaving the house
After: Rarely look in the mirror more than once a day in the morning – often notice the horror show while innocently walking past a mirror in a store where I wonder who that poor pathetic middle-aged woman with something that looks like sweet potatoes on her shirt, droopy jeans, screaming kids and gray uncombed hair is – realize it’s me.

Bunny Heaven

So, you’d think I could get through a day or two without some craziness befalling me, but it appears it was not meant to be. So, let me just provide a brief description of the last 24 hours of my life. It all began yesterday afternoon when there was a dog running loose in my neighborhood. The one thing I haven’t lost since having children is my crazy tendency to pick up every stray I can find. So, I figured I would take Joey for a walk and catch the dog and return him to his home before he was run down by one of the crazy teenagers (could I sound more like a crabby old bag – I might as well say “whippersnapper”?) or cut through drivers in our neighborhood. Unfortunately, as we were walking over to the next street where he was, we discovered that one of the neighborhood bunnies had not been so lucky. I didn’t even notice it until we were basically on top of it because I was too busy answering Joey’s incessant questioning about EVERYTHING around us. So Joey points at the very dead bunny and asks “Mommy, what’s wrong with that bunny?” “Why he laying there like that?” I pick him up and move him away from said former bunny and try to explain that the bunny has died because he was hit by a car. This led to basically constant questioning for the REST of the night, a 2nd walk by the bunny today to see if someone had helped it yet and more interrogation. To try and keep this email to a reasonable length, I will provide just sample of the ongoing dead bunny discussion that I have engaged in since yesterday…

Joey: “Why we helping the doggie and not the bunny?”
Me: Because it’s too late to help the bunny

Joey: Is the bunny sad?
Me: Yes, the bunny was sad, but now he’s happy because he’s in a better place

Joey: Where is the bunny? Is he hurt?Me: The bunny is in bunny heaven and he’s not hurt anymore.

Joey: What’s that pink stuff on the bunny?
Me: That’s where the bunny got hurt

Joey: Oh, I worried about that bunny. Is someone coming to help him?

And on, and on, and on…. In addition to questioning me, my mother and Joe pretty much incessantly weren’t enough, Joey informed the contractors building us a new deck, the neighbors and a delivery man that the bunny was dead and we were sad –I’m sure they were thrilled. I guess I should be thankful that I didn’t have to bring home the dead bunny and hold a funeral in my back yard…

To add my joyful dead bunny day, I must now turn to my usual favorite subject – poo – yes, sorry to do this to you all again, but it has reared its ugly head (or bottom) once again. I will also try to keep this brief… Joey is living in fear of the potty these days and is therefore holding things in. It’s bad enough when he doesn’t do this, so you can only imagine what happens when he holds it for two days. This afternoon he complains that his stomach hurts and then I can’t get him down for a nap. Just when I think the day can’t get much worse, he announces that he has to go and I ask if he would like to use the potty. He replies that no, he would prefer to hide under the dining room table. I am instructed to wait in the kitchen (but to not go into the living room for some unknown reason). I keep asking him if he’s ready for a diaper change and he keeps saying “not yet” and continues squatting under the table. After a few minutes I hear him start to emerge and I walk out just in time to see him AGAIN with his hands IN HIS PANTS removing poo. Apparently he learned NOTHING from the incident two days ago. He then proceeds to try to run away and wipes his hand on the china cabinet… yes, I thought cleaning off the wall was bad enough, I never saw the china cabinet coming. Long story short, I wrestled him to the ground in the kitchen while he screams that he doesn’t want me to wipe his “paws” (thanks to Joe for saying balls in front of him). I end up stripping him down and throwing him in the tub – an hour of time was spent getting things cleaned up and laundered. Afterward, I got to enjoy several hours of crabby, un-napped two year old while Joe worked late today. By 4 p.m. the mommy juice was flowing... by 8 p.m. I was considering shooting myself.