Hello, Tweendom

My son will turn 11 next week. When he turned 10 last year, he was still in that “little boy” phase. He didn’t look much different than he did when he was in second grade and showed no signs of puberty being close. So, when he announced that he was in his tweens, I chuckled to myself, since he still seemed like a little boy. This year, however, things are very different.

To start off, the boy has shot up 5 inches since this time last year. We have bought so many clothes over the past year, and since he’s still in growth spurt phase (as he has been for the past five months it seems), the jeans we bought him on Black Friday are getting close to being too short. His voice has gotten a little deeper, too. If you compare his school picture to the past three (which all looked almost exactly the same), there’s no doubt that he has left those little boy years behind. And if the growth spurt and everything wasn’t proof enough, then the behavior sure is.

I’ve heard parents complain about the tween years. “They hate us, they think we’re wrong about everything, they’re grumble and complain all the time…” I thought to myself that surely my good-natured little boy would never go down the path of the Dark Side, but you know how the my-kid-will-never works out, right?

The Look has become a fixture in our lives lately.

If pictures below look anything like your life, then you just might be raising a tween. Or a three-year-old.

Just kidding. I see a fair amount of that surliness, but not all the time, of course.

Wish me luck.

What’s new in your world? 

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Parenting Advice Series #2: Don’t Screw Up Netflix

Three months ago, I wrote one of my most popular posts — Parenting Advice Series: Freaking Socks. In my decade of parenting, I’ve learned a thing or two, and the most important nugget of wisdom I had to pass on was not to buy your kids cute socks, because they’ll never have anything that matches. You guys were blown away by my insight, and some of you even said that I’m the Bill Gates of the parenting world.

(That is possibly a lie.)

I promised that I’d impart more parenting wisdom, but then I struggled to think of more advice and focused on other things. As I was looking for something to watch on Netflix the other day, I had a thought, and now we have Parenting Advice Series post #2.

Netflix is important. So important, in fact, that it belongs at the bottom of the pyramid of Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs. You need food, you need shelter, and you need Netflix. And it’s especially important when you become a parent. Fish need water to survive, and parents need Netflix.

Need 30 minutes to cook dinner and your kid isn’t into the arts/blocks/whatever stuff you’ve been doing all day? Then Netflix.

Everyone is sick and you’re going stir crazy? Then Netflix.

You have to rock your infant all night long to keep her asleep — because the moment you lie her down, she wakes up and screams — and you can’t sleep sitting up and need something to help you pass the time? Then Netflix.

(Yeah the last one happened.)

(And, yeah, I’m pretending like this is a perfect world where all of us parents are like “No screen before 120 months old” and limit screens.)

So, yeah, Netflix is importance.

The bad thing about Netflix is that you can really screw it up if you aren’t careful. One of the top rookie mistakes parents make is not creating a profile for their kids on their account. Watch a children’s show on your Netflix profile even once, and this happens:

Oh, no! The recommendation list that was tailored to my personal preferences, because Netflix knows me, has been screwed up.

That’s annoying, but not life-shattering. Here’s what happens when you watch more than one children’s show on Netflix:

Every. Single. Recommendation.

You’ve now entered the eighth circle of parenting hell — the Netflix takeover. From here on out, you’ll have to endure awful kids show after awful kids show, or you’ll have to do the impossible — utilize Netflix’s search function and enter the specific show you’re looking for.

Humans aren’t wired for using Netflix’s search function. It takes too much effort. We want to scroll or click through, dammit.

All right new parents and parents-to-be — as soon as you know you’re expecting or that baby’s head pops out of the birth canal, get that Netflix profile made for him. Don’t let the Netflix takeover happen.

And parents who screwed up like I did and let their Netflix account be taken over — take a hammer to your TV. Or, ya know, delete your old profile and create a new one and watch all the episodes of Parks and Rec, The Office, and Friends you want. (Because we all know that’s what Netflix for adults is really for, anyway — paying the low price of $10 per month to watch the same three or four TV shows.)

Do you feel enlightened now? No? I’ll take mildly amused, then.

What’s some parenting advice you’d like to see me write about? 


If your New Year, New You thing was to read more, then check out my book Don’t Lick That! on Amazon. You can download it for the low price of $2.99. If you’ve already read it and enjoyed it, please take a moment to leave a review on Amazon and Goodreads.

I’m planning another book for this year, and this time, I don’t want to tell just my stories. I want yours. More to come on that later.

New Year’s Resolutions: The Parenting Edition

I’ve made New Year’s resolutions before. I’ve resolved to write in journals, to finish up baby books, to lose weight, and to stop cursing under my breath so much. One year, my husband and I even made a wager for our New Year’s resolutions. If he lost 30 pounds first, then I wouldn’t play Hanson in the car for a month. If I lost it first, then he had to get a tattoo of my choosing. So far, the boys have never been banned in my car, and my husband still hasn’t been inked. So, we aren’t not New Year’s resolutions all-stars.

This year, I’m not resolving to lose weight. I’m not resolving to spend less money on frivolous purchases. I’m also not resolving to curse less. I will make an effort to improve myself, but that’s as much as I’ll say, and I certainly won’t put it down on paper. I am, however, making some parenting resolutions. And these aren’t resolutions like “Spend more time with my kids” because I’m a SAHM and if I spend anymore time with my kids, I just might go insane.

I resolve to take a crap by myself. Before I had kids, I’d never have imagined that anyone would want to join me while I take a crap, but here we are. It’s annoying not to be able to use the bathroom in peace, and it’s super annoying to not to be able to use the bathroom in peace while someone is complaining about me.

I resolve to have less anxiety attacks during the middle of the night. Now, I’m all about making some mental health goals (and I’m thinking about branching out into talking about that sort of stuff on this blog later), but this isn’t your run-of-the-mill anxiety attack. This sort of anxiety attack is caused by kids who crash into my bedroom during the middle of the night and scare me half to death, because my brain always jumps to the worse case scenario when I hear a noise.

I’m thinking that some well-placed barbed wire could keep them away from my bedroom door.

I resolve not stop for a bathroom break when we’re less than a mile from our house. Here’s the deal — my kids are given the opportunity to use the bathroom before they leave the house (or anywhere else). They claim they don’t have to use the bathroom, so we get in the car and leave. As luck would have it, these children have bladder conditions that cause them to have to pee when we’re five minutes away from the house. That ends this year.

We’re gonna solve this medical mystery one way or another, and if we don’t…well, desperate times call for desperate measures.

I resolve to eat a candy bar without sharing. If you’ve watched Lord of the Rings, then do you remember how the second Frodo put the One Ring on his finger that Sauron — who was probably hundreds of miles away — knew immediately and was like “OMG get him!” Well, my kids are like that with junk food. This year, I will consume at least one candy bar or Little Debbie cake while my children are present without giving them any. It may be the most challenging on my list, but it’s happening.

I resolve to wear my bra more. This one almost falls under the typical parenting resolutions umbrella. Almost. Remember the post where I talked about how when I take off my bra that I won’t leave the house and do things for people? Well, this year I resolve to keep my bra on for an extra 30 minutes per day. This is probably the most generous resolution I’ve ever made.

This will still happen, just a little later than normal.

I resolve to give my kids superpowers. I once wrote about having certain superpowers, and one of those superpowers was having enhanced vision. This year, I will no longer be the only person who can find something in my house. They will be able to find the other shoe. They will be able to locate their own homework. And they will be able to find Woody’s cowboy hat (or whatever toy). We’ll start small and have them work on locating items that are three feet or less away, and then we’ll work up to locating items that are in the same room.

What parenting resolutions are you making?

Don’t forget to swing by Becca’s blog and enter the raffle to win a free eBook copy of Don’t Lick That!

Catch You On The Flippity-Flip, 2018!

Since I’m often running behind, I’m a little late saying goodbye to 2018. I could have done that yesterday, but I forgot. Lateness and forgetfulness…if I were a New Year’s resolutions sort of person, I’d probably address that. But I’m not, so you can continue expecting tardiness and absentminded stuff from me.

To officially say goodbye to 2018, I’d like to tip my hat to the top five posts from last year. This is based on the number of views for the posts published in 2018.

How To Lose A Mom Friend In 10 Days

In this post: I give you some tips for ditching annoying mom friends. This was my most viewed and most commented on post that was published in 2018 and had over 100 likes.

This post was published last July, and you can find it here.

Parenting Music

In this post: I talk about how the meaning of song lyrics changes after having kids. Also in this post…I make you question my abilities as a mother after showing my son a video for the DMX song Party Up.

This post was also published last July, and you can find it here.

That Time I Went Skiing

In this post: you read about a girl in middle school being clumsy and embarrassing herself by breaking her ass.

This post was published last March, and you can find it here.

Parenting Drinking Game

In this post: it’s pretty self-explanatory — it’s a game that involves drinking, and it’s intended for parents. A word of caution — unless your children are little angels (and don’t tell us if they are, because we’ll be jealous and hate you), then you’ll probably die if you try to play this game.

This post was published last May, and you can find it here.

Parenting Advice: Freaking Socks

In this post: I try my hand at giving out parenting advice, and the biggest thing I could come up with after 10 years of parenting was to advise you guys not to buy your kids matching socks. It was funnier than it sounds.

This post was published last October, and you can find it here. (And I realize that I promised this would be a series, but I never followed through on that. I have a draft, if that counts.)

What I learned from my top 5: y’all like posts that are — at a minimum — borderline inappropriate. You guys especially like posts that encourage you to be a bit assholish. I’ll take this lesson into 2019 and try to give the people what they want.

Which Dorky Mom Doodles post did you really like in 2018? AND, what was your favorite post you published to your own blog in 2018 — share a link!

OMG We’re Boring!

“Did anything funny happen over Christmas?” I asked my husband. After racking my brain, I couldn’t think of anything, but surely that was just my spotty mommy-brain memory. My family doing nothing funny? After going to three different places for Christmas? It couldn’t be.

“I don’t think so,” my husband said.

Next, I asked Little Man. His answer was to write about a funny comment his dad made. Unfortunately, the funny comment was insulting a dish someone at one of the gatherings had prepared, so I didn’t think that would be appropriate. Baby Girl was next.

Okay.

That’s funny,  but in a cute “boy-that’s-freaking-odd” kind of way. (BTW, when I showed her that doodle, she said he was dancing to “The Itsy Bitsy Spider” and that I needed to draw a Do Not Enter road sign dancing next.)

So, nothing super funny happened over the holidays. My banana puddings turned out good, all of the chocolate-dipped treats were good, and my fruit salad — highly difficult dish to prepare — was good. Despite cooking an entire meal on Christmas Eve (and, yes, I want a pat on the back for that), I had no cooking mishaps whatsoever. I did make a funny with a dessert tray I brought to my mother-in-law’s house, but that’s more of a “here’s the picture” deal instead of being doodle-worthy.

Come to think of it, we didn’t even do anything funny with Rufus, our Elf on the Shelf, this year. Usually, we at least make him do something very inappropriate for our (the parents’) pleasure — like the year when he appeared with a “Back Like Cooked Crack” sign — but we didn’t do anything along those lines. He moved most days, but just from spot to spot and not in an over-the-top Pinterest way.

The funniest thing I can think of for this Christmas is Baby Girl’s holiday photos. After taking multiple pictures in multiple places, this was the theme she had going on:

And that’s funny in a “LOL she can’t smile” way…not quite as funny if you were there for the moments that led up to those grumpy faces! (The last three were all at the same place — the church where she goes to preschool. Everything was beautifully decorated and she was dressed up and wearing a ribbon in her hair, so it seemed like the perfect time to try to get pictures for the Christmas card.)

The Dorky family must be losing their touch. But, hey, I created a post and some doodles from almost nothing, so there ya go.

Do you have any Christmas funnies to share?

If you haven’t read my book “Don’t Lick That!” yet, pop over to Amazon and download a copy to read before the year is over. (Nothing happens to the book  when 2018 expires, but we can pretend like something will if that makes you click quicker.) 

“I Wanted To Make It Special”

A while back, I wrote about Baby Girl’s tendency to draw on things that aren’t coloring sheets/blank paper. We never had that problem with Little Man. The girl, however, used many things in our house as her canvas. The wall, the floor, the door to her room, etc. were all used for her drawings. She also drew on the table and some of her toys.

And then there are the books.

As a former English major/English teacher/bibliophile, I’m all about the books. With the exception of LEGOs, we have more books than we have of any other item in our home. We have hundreds spread throughout the bookshelves in our house, plus I have a couple of totes full in storage that I don’t have room for inside. Once someone helping clean our house for a holiday party commented that I had too many books (after I had donated some), which wasn’t well-received.

Books are my weakness. I love going to thrift shops and looking for books. Once I found a book by one of my favorite authors — Chris Crutcher — and it was signed. Glorious day! Occasionally I’ll find books that are duplicates of books I already have, but I feel like I have to buy them anyway, because I don’t want them to be neglected and lonely on the shelf.

I completely understand how Frodo felt in “The Lord of the Rings.”

I may have a problem. Aside from making my house a tinderbox of sorts, it’s not the worst problem to have, though.

Kind of went off on a tangent there. Oops.

Our books were often used in Baby Girl’s art. She scribbled in her books, some of our regular books, and even parenting books. One of my discipline books has scribbles in it. (As annoying as her drawing in books was, that one was pretty hilarious.)

She’s four now, though, and aside from accidentally going off of her coloring pages, she had stopped drawing on things she wasn’t supposed to draw on.

Key word in that sentence: had.

Last Saturday, I was taking a nap when my husband came and woke me up. He had the girl in tow.

“She drew in your book,” he told me.

I sighed. “Okay.”

He’s waking me up for this? Ugh. I want sleep. I want to stay nestled in my warm blankets. Leave–

And then my train of complaint thoughts was interrupted.

“Wait — which book?”

My collectible books — including a few that are over 100 years old — are out of her reach, so I knew it couldn’t be those. That left only one book that would be worth waking me up over — my book. The one I’ve been mentioning for the past few months on this blog. My labor of…well, not love, because I didn’t exactly enjoy creating it after the 1000th hour, so just my labor.

Yep, my book.

He handed me the book. Baby Girl was smiling and couldn’t have looked more pleased with herself. Here’s what I found:

Something with blond hair and legs on one page and “Mom” written on the other. She quickly explained/bragged:

Dammit. How freaking sweet is that?

My frustration went away very quickly. She got a big hug for personalizing my book (as well as a warning not to personalize anymore of them, because I want to sell them). Considering that there is actually a story in the book about the little graffiti artist, that will make the book graffiti even funnier when she gets older.

What has warmed your heart lately? 


So, a couple of new book things–

First, I have released companion journals to Don’t Lick That! called Times the Kids Weren’t Little Heathens. You can use them to record funny stories and one-liners from your kids. The journal for parents of multiple kids can be found here and the journal for parents of only kids can be found here.

Second, if you have Amazon, you can download the eBook for FREE starting today through December 22. If you don’t have time to read it now — and I doubt many do, considering the season of chaos is upon us — you can download it to read later. Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays!

(And if you already purchased the book and this doesn’t count as a gift for you, then email me your address and I’ll pull a Wet Bandits and rob your house send you a personalized dorky Christmas card if you want, glitter-free, because I’m cool like that.)

I Survived

If you aren’t on my personal Instagram or Facebook pages, then you may be wondering whether or not I survived snow tubing. Since Hell doesn’t have the Internet yet and I’m not posting in ghost-mode, I survived!

We went with an indoor snow tubing place. You see, I didn’t realize that you had to take a chair lift or tram up the side of a mountain to get to the snow tubing place we originally wanted to go to. Just thinking about that makes my heart rate go up. I’m not even gonna doodle this, because I want your heart rate to go up, too, so here’s an image from TripAdvisor.

See? Holy cow! I’ll ride most roller coasters, but there is something about being suspended over the side of a mountain by a cable that makes me nope out completely.

So, indoor snow tubing place it was. Baby Girl wouldn’t get on the snow tube, but the rest of us had a good time with it. I was pretty darn terrified at times, because going fast down a hill, spinning, and worrying about tipping over and breaking my neck can do that, but I still enjoyed it.

I didn’t fall going up the escalator (yes, an escalator) to the top of the hill, I didn’t fall down the hill while trying to sit on the tube, and I didn’t break anything.

The only time I had a near-death experience was when I rode back from the snow tubing place with my mother-in-law. Let’s just say that taking mountain curves at 65 MPH is more terrifying than the thoughts of riding a tram up the side of a mountain.

Death flashed before my very eyes.

(And my mother-in-law is probably reading this now and thinking, “But did you die?” No, I didn’t, but, you know I can’t pass up a chance to tease you.)

It was a very fun short trip away! We took the kids to do the Polar Express train ride last night, and we all loved it. They came out dancing to the “Hot Chocolate” song just like in the movie. I was mildly disappointed they didn’t dance with the hot chocolate in their hands, though. (Yeah, I knew there was only a .00001% chance that would happen, but I held out hope.)

Now that we have that trip out of the way, we can focus on our Christmas Movie Marathon, baking, and crafty type things.

Instead of asking you a question to wrap up the post, I’m going to create a poll…

If y’all don’t hear anything from me after this post, it’s because she has killed me. #RIPDorkyMom


Now that the “Don’t Lick That!” eBook giveaway at Pretty In Baby Food is over, you can try your chances at the giveaway Candy is hosting at Geek Mamas. If you don’t want to wait, then you can snag the eBook here and the paperback here.

Baby Girl Says…

When I first started this blog, I didn’t have a lot of Baby Girl material to use. She was talking some, but not a lot, so most of my stories were about her brother. These days, however, that child doesn’t stop talking, and much of she says is funny as hell. The older one is shifting away from saying lots of cutesy things and does a crap ton of dabbing, so I don’t have as much to go with from him. (I am so sick of dabbing, by the way.)

See? That does not make for great blog fodder.

Thank goodness for the girl. Baby Girl has said enough cutesy things in the past week that deserve her own post, so here we go.

Doctor Time

The girl had strep throat a few weeks ago. Since she downright refuses to take medicine — and I don’t mean she gets fussy about it, but that she will kick, scream, spit it out, and reject any food/drink that we’ve mixed it in — the doctor suggested giving her a shot. I didn’t think this would be a problem. Most kids hate shots, of course, but she understands that they will only hurt for a second and that they can help you feel better or prevent the flu and other illnesses. She told me she went to school encouraging her friends to get flu shots after she got hers in October. So, yeah, I didn’t think it would be a big deal.

It was, of course.

The doctor, nurse, and I had to hold her down while the nurse administered the shot. (Never underestimate the strength of a 30-pound 4-year-old.) After it was all over, she told me she wasn’t going downstairs (where the pediatric office is) and was only going upstairs (the family practice we used to go to) from then on. Poor kid. (And she did feel better within a couple of days.)

Last week, we had to go back to the pediatrician. That child told the receptionist, the assistant, and the doctor no less than 30 times that SHE WAS NOT GETTING A SHOT.

When the assistant asked if she had any allergies while checking her in, Baby Girl spoke up and said something that had us all laughing.

Well played, Baby Girl, well played.

The Spider Closet

Remember how Baby Girl drew a picture of me dead in a grave last week? Well, she’s still going through her creepy phase. A few days after that, she was displeased with Little Man over something (who knows what it was, as she is often displeased with him), when she made the following threat:

Um, what?

When we asked her to clarify what a spider closet was, she looked at us like we were idiots and told us that it was a closet full of spiders. I let her preschool teacher know the next day that we do not, in fact, have a closet with spiders, in case it came up.

Go Tell It…Where?

For the preschool program this year, Baby Girl has to sing “Go Tell it on the Mountain.” Baby Girl and preschool programs do not go well together. (Not that you can expect much from preschool age kids, but especially not with her.) The first year, she was too preoccupied with terrorizing the children near her to do much in the way of singing. Last year, she didn’t participate much (and had to visit the preschool director for her refusal to participate and distracting others during practice). This year…we’ll see, but so far it’s not looking good, since she’s already changing up the lyrics to the song.

At least she isn’t singing, “Joy to the world, the teacher’s dead, we barbecued her head!” right?

Pepper Spray Them Bitches

Okay, she didn’t say the last word, but I sure thought it.

Earlier this week, she noticed that I carry pepper spray (it’s out of her reach, of course, but I was showing her something and she saw it) and asked what it was for. I explained that it was to help protect us in case of danger and also explained how painful it would be and to never, ever touch it OR ELSE.

Sometime later, we were driving down the road when a car zoomed past us. It was a 45 mph zone and he was easily going 65. I made a comment about the guy thinking he was on a speedway and how he was driving dangerously. Baby Girl had a solution for this problem.

Nah, girl, if I get road rage at someone and feel like I need to get out of my car and hurt them, I won’t be using pepper spray. I’ll just throw glitter on them and really teach them a lesson.

No More Cleaning

What is it with kids and cleaning up stuff? No, cleaning isn’t fun, but come on — it doesn’t take that much effort to pick up after yourself. It certainly doesn’t require so much effort that you should act like your world has come to an end.

A few days ago, I told the girl that we needed to clean up the house. She wasn’t happy about this, of course.

You have the energy to take out your toys and pay games with them, but not the energy to put them away? Something doesn’t make sense there.

Wake Up, Daddy

My husband told me this one. He lied down with Baby Girl to help her go to sleep a couple of days ago and dozed off himself. He said that she woke him up with a complaint.

Preach, girl.

At this rate, I may be able to do a sequel for “Don’t Lick That!” before the end of the year.

What’s the funniest thing you’ve heard a kid say lately?


Time to plug the book!

Rachel at Pretty In Baby Food had some lovely things to say about “Don’t Lick That!” Check out the review on her blog, plus enter the giveaway on her site to win a copy of the book. If you already purchased the book, enter anyway — if you win, you can gift the code to a friend that you think would enjoy the book!

“Don’t Lick That!” is available for purchase as an eBook on Amazon and as a paperback through Amazon or Barnes and Noble. (Amazon has free shipping for Prime users, but right now things are glitchy, saying shipping will take a while, so keep an eye out for that. This isn’t an issue with B&N.) If you have a Kindle Unlimited subscription, you can read the book for free. If you purchase the book and enjoy it, please consider leaving feedback on Amazon, B&N, or Goodreads.

Morning Hell

My sister and I fought like cats and dogs when we were kids, but my brother and I never fought. I chalked that up to there only being two years between my sister and me and nine years between my brother and me. With that in mind, when we had Baby Girl, I figured the kids wouldn’t fight much, since Little Man would be almost 6.5 years older.

I was wrong about that.

Rarely does a day pass where they don’t fight about something. And on the days they don’t fight, it’s usually because one has stayed over with a grandparent or is too sick to fight. It drives me crazy.

Mornings are the worst. I can’t even comb my hair or brush my teeth without hearing screams coming from the kitchen, where the children are supposed to be eating their breakfast. If I only had to drop off Little Man, I wouldn’t have to get dressed, since I can let him out at the curb. I have to walk Baby Girl in, though, so looking like an extra from The Walking Dead isn’t an option. It only takes a few minutes to throw on some clothes, brush my teeth, and run a brush through my hair, so you’d think that the kids could keep their shit together and not fight. Since fighting comes as naturally as breathing, however, that doesn’t happen.

I warn them before I dash to the bedroom to get dressed. No fighting. I even tell Little Man that if Baby Girl tries to start something with him–she’s often the instigator–to not engage her. All they have to do is sit there and eat their breakfast. That’s it. Shoveling food in your mouth without wanting to kill your sibling should be easy, but it’s not, as sometimes not even a full minute passes before I hear the screams.

Jesus, y’all.

Sometimes I ignore it for a few moments and wait to see if they’ll solve the problem themselves without me stomping in there. Since that’s as likely as me making it through the day without tripping over something, that rarely doesn’t happen. I have to stomp back in there, put my hands on my hips, and speak in my Mom Voice to let them know I mean business and to stop the crap.

This morning, when the screams started, I went in to see what was going on. Little Man told me that Baby Girl tried to hit him with a bottle of honey. Baby Girl said that she tried to hit Little Man with the bottle of honey after he threw it at her. Little Man claimed he did not throw the honey at her and had no idea how the honey he was using made its way across the table into her hands. It must be magic.

After some scolding them and threatening not to let anyone do anything fun after school if they didn’t stop fighting, I started to make my way back to the bathroom when I heard Baby Girl say this:

I’m gonna annoy you now.

We weren’t late, but it was close.

What does your typical morning look like? 


Rachel at Pretty In Baby Food had some lovely things to say about “Don’t Lick That!” Check out the review on her blog, plus enter the giveaway on her site to win a copy of the book.

“Don’t Lick That!” is now available for purchase as an eBook on Amazon and as a paperback through Amazon or Barnes and Noble. (Amazon has free shipping for Prime users.) If you have a Kindle Unlimited subscription, you can read the book for free. If you purchase the book and enjoy it, please consider leaving feedback on Amazon, B&N, or Goodreads.

It’s Your Grave, Mommy

Kids can be creepy sometimes. I remember when Little Man once told me that he wanted to hold a beating heart one day. And I can’t tell you how many times I’ve woken up in the middle of the night to find one of them staring at me. When I woke up to find Little Man sitting beside my pillow staring at me when he was about four, he told me that he liked watching me sleep. Did I say “creepy” already?

Baby Girl took the creepy stuff up a notch this weekend. I had my headphones on playing a video game with Little Man when my husband tapped me on the shoulder. I slid one of the speakers to the side to see what he wanted.

“Can you pause the game?” he asked.

“No. You can’t pause Fortnite. The storm is closing!” I slid the headphones back in place, and he tapped me on the shoulder again.

I slid the speaker to the side again. “What?”

“You’ll want to see this. Baby Girl drew a picture.”

I won’t lie–I was slightly annoyed. I hadn’t played the video game in a week, had a great weapon, and was ready to take out the other tweens and teens I was up against and get a kill count higher than Little Man’s. (I did, by the way, and he claimed it was because other people were cheating.) But whatever.

“Let me see the picture.”

My husband gave me this:

(I lost 10 Mom points there for not saying, “Tell me about your art.”)

What?!

Surely I had misheard her. My kids have done and said a lot of creepy stuff, but neither of them have ever killed me off.

I looked at my husband for verification.

What?! Was that my punishment for playing a video game–death?

I asked Baby Girl why she killed me, but she said she didn’t know. I was just dead and in my grave, and that was that. (I didn’t know she even knew what a grave was.) She didn’t appear to be angry with me, and she also didn’t seem very shook up about my death. She went back to drawing more pictures, and I went back to playing Fortnite. I made sure not to turn my back to her.

When I pressed her for more information while I was working on this post, she told me that she made me dead because she didn’t want to draw my face. I’m not sure why I had to be dead when she didn’t draw out two other faces and made them alive, though. I guess it’s somewhat comforting to know that my daughter killed me out of laziness. If I believe her.

What’s the creepiest thing your kid has ever said or done? 

If you haven’t signed up for the raffle to win the  “Don’t Lick That!” eBook, click this link to do so. A few of you made me aware of some issues with the raffle and that your entry didn’t go through, so I added an option at the top where you can enter just by saying you follow the blog. No verification needed. (I don’t know why it’s being buggy, sorry!) 

The preorder for the eBook is live on Amazon for $3.99 and will be available to read on Nov. 28. You can find it here. The paperback is available on Amazon and Barnes and Noble  for $14.99 and will ship Nov. 27.