Jenny is third of my four daughters and mommy to two-year-old Tristan and six-month-old Tyler. She became a mommy a bit later than most. Jenny has started a new moms’ group called “Mid-Life Mamas.”
I’ve often told her that she’s the new Erma Bombeck, a humorist who wrote about her family. Just for fun, I took these off her Facebook page. I think we have the beginnings of a book, don’t you? Nonna Joann
Pictured: Tristan and Tyler.
Notice the mischief in Tristan’s eyes.
I call him “Tristan the Tornado.”
Yes, I am now officially the crazy mom who keeps her two-year-old on a leash (monkey backpack harness) out in public. I swore I would never be one of THOSE parents! However, I would rather have my adventurous wild child alive: not kidnapped or ran over in the parking lot. I don’t care how many dirty looks I get. I want my kid safe.
I am also the screaming lady at Target trying to push a stroller with an infant in it while attempting to pull her tantrum-throwing two-year-old off the floor. Yes, I am aware my child just took every item off that shelf. I am doing the best I can to hold onto him, the stroller and pick up the wreckage from the tornado he just created.
FYI other shoppers and clerks: I am not shoplifting, I am placing as many items I can fit in or below the stroller since I can’t safely put both kids in a cart. A twenty-minute shopping trip now takes two hours and usually I forget the most important thing I went in for. I used to love to shop. I now dread it almost as much as flying the not-so-friendly skies with two small children.
By the way don’t try to be funny at checkout while your child is throwing things and screaming and then tell the young clerk his name is Birth Control. She will not even crack a smile.
I picked up my two-year-old at my parent’s house last night after getting my hair cut and colored. It’s about six inches shorter than before. Tristan looks at me and then tells my parents “Mommy’s hair fell out.”
This morning, after taking a quick shower, I ran downstairs to check on my suspiciously quiet two-year-old. I see him sitting in the family room eating a stick of butter, which he took out of the fridge himself. I told him that was not to eat, but it’s to bake with. He then told me it was peanut butter and it was “yummy.”
Little White Lie
So, I lied a little renewing my driver’s license today. It’s not like they have a scale in there or anything. Also, they did not specify if they wanted my goal weight or my actual weight. When you get a speeding ticket the police officer never ask you your weight. Even a man carrying a gun wouldn’t be foolish enough to ask that question.
Last week, my two-year-old found some mints and proceeded to shove them them up his nose. Right as he was inserting the mints into his nostrils, he said with a huge smile on his face “Wook at me mommy.” After much sneezing and crying and saline solution we got them out. This age drives me crazy, however two-year-olds are quite funny and cute.
Sales Call Solution
I figured out the best way to deal with the pesky sales calls that come in all to often. Put your two-year-old chatterbox on the phone. The next time the phone rang, I saw it was a sales call and told my two-year-old son the phone was for him. I then handed him the phone. He yelled “Ha-looo, ha-looo, ha-looo” into the phone while simultaneously pushing the buttons. I could hear someone on the other end of the line pleading for his parent. Who needs cable with this sort of home entertainment?
Recipe for a Mess
Take one shower add clean outfit, mix in two small children, add poop and a dash of spit-up. Add another mess, repeat shower, add second outfit and another mess. Toss all the ingredients for the complete glam mommy look and your husband asking why you have not showered. Husband is then murdered by wife who now understands how mothers inherit insanity from her kids. FINALLY some peace and quiet in solitary confinement.