One of my posts, Wearing Spanx: An Act of Love, has been featured on the Erma Bombeck site, HumorWriters.org. Click here to check it out.
We made it to the ship but haven’t left yet. Baby Girl announced that she isn’t eating anything until we get home. š®
If you’re reading this post, then the Dorky family is officially on vacation! We’re going on a cruise, so I’ll have limited access to Internet over the next few days. Since I won’t be creating any new posts, I thought I’d take the opportunity to share some of my early posts that most of you likely haven’t seen. I’ll catch up with comments and your blog posts when I get back.
Originally published in March of 2017…
For a time as a parent, I didn’t have to listen to crappy music. (My husband would say, “Wait, that’s not true because you love Hanson,” which I’d ignore while pitying him for not embracing their greatness.) When Little Man came along, we didn’t play much kiddie music. We stuck to our Beatles, Radiohead, Ben Folds, Weezer, Hanson (obviously I’ve got to mention them again), etc. He loved it all and we didn’t have to listen to cheesy crap sang in high-pitched voices, so all was right in the world. Even the music for the TV shows he watched was tolerable.
All was good in our parenting world for about six years, and then things changed.
Baby Girl came along. While she likes some of our music (especially Radiohead’s No Surprises, which has been on repeat every night for much of the past two and a half years), she prefers the cheesy kids’ songs. Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star. Five Little Monkeys. If You’re Happy And You Know It. Apples and Bananas. Itsy Bitsy Freaking Spider. And, despite having a playlist for her to shuffle through those songs, she usually picks one and wants it on repeat for the entire car ride. I get kinda road ragey as it is, but after the tenth time of listening to Itsy Bitsy Freaking Spider, all it takes for me to start cursing under my breath is for someone to put their signal light on at 90 feet out instead of 100 feet.
AndĀ then there are the songs or theme music on shows on YouTube and TV that bothĀ kids like. I liked the music on Thomas and Friends, Sid the Science Kid, and The Cat in the Hat Knows A Lot About That. The current shows they both watch? For the most part, just no. God no.
Aaaand, thanks to the newish car with satellite radio, Little Man has discovered Kidz Bop, also known as Music Hell. Kidz Bop is where they take popular music and ruin it. Much of the popular music is kind of bad already, but then they take it and make it worse with the crappy singing and such. And Little Man, the child we once bragged about for having excellent taste in music, loves Kidz Bop. (To be fair, he still likes a lot of great stuff, but Kidz Bop has tarnished his reputation.)
I’ve compiled a short list of songs that are driving me nuts right now. It could be longer. A lot longer. But there’s the matter of my laziness and the fact that y’all probably don’t want a doodled list of 1841 songsĀ that are driving me nuts, so I cut it to five.
What song is likely to give you a headache if you have to hear it again?
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I finally invested in a felt letter board! Now I’m like all the other cool moms, except for I’m not cool.
Too bad I couldnāt think of anything clever to say! What would you write on this board? Seriously, letās have fun…if you come up with something, comment and include your Instagram handle and Iāll tag you when I post it.
Also, that muffin is for me. Baby Girl asked who it was for, and I told her it was mine. She said she wanted it, and then Little Man overheard talk about a muffin and said he wanted one. Baby Girl informed him that the muffin was really for her, not him, which caused a spat. Excuse me while I update the Parenting Drinking Game to include taking a shot when your kids fight over doodled food.
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Want to know a good way to appall your 1o-year-old? Besides calling Minecraft “that freaking block game,” that is? Put your boobs on the Internet. A few months ago, I published a post called What Your Bra Really Says About You on this blog, and while Little Man generally thinks everything I write is hilarious, he wasn’t very enthusiastic about me putting my boobs online, even if they were a) doodled and b) technically covered up.
Unfortunately for Little Man, those doodled, censored boobs are posted on another website.Ā Sammiches and Psych Meds featured the What Your Bra Really Says About You today. If you didn’t read it when I originally posted it back in October, then head over to Sammiches and Psych Meds and check it out. Heck, even if you did read it when I originally posted it, head over there and check it out anyway, because it’s been seven months now, and I know your memory isn’t so great that you remember all the details of my censored breasts.
You’ve seen the game; now check out the stories behind the game!Ā
If any of their grandparents are reading this, I know what they’re thinking right now — “Those sweet, innocent little angels would never do anything to make someone want to drink, you terrible asshole.” Okay, maybe they wouldn’t add “terrible asshole,” but they would definitely be adamant that my children are perfect little babies. That’s one of the perks of being a grandparent — you can know full well that your grandkids are mini terrorists at times, but you think they’re perfect anyway.
I adore my kiddos, of course. They’re sweet, kind, funny, clever, and a hundred other good things. But, despite all of their positive traits, they also have the tendency to occasionally make their parents consider taking up day drinking. Maybe even morning drinking. Here are a few reasons why:
1. Tattling
I’ve mentioned before that I thought the nearly 6.5 year gap between Little Man and Baby Girl would guarantee certain things — like no fighting. I also thought that tattling would be something that wouldn’t be a big deal, or one-sided, if anything.
No.
My kids tattle on each other constantly. Little Man tattled on Baby Girl before she could even walk. Baby Girl tattled on Little Man before she could even talk.
I hate the tattling with the burning passion of a thousand fiery suns. I also feel bad for the parents of both of my blended families (four kids in the first and five in the second), because I’m sure whatever tattling annoyances I’m experiencing was far worse.
They tattle over dirty looks. They tattle over someone touching a toy or book that they were not using and hadn’t used in forever. They tattle over name calling. Even when one kid calls names first and the other retorts with the same, the kid that lobbed the first insult will tattle. Baby Girl is probably the pettiest of tattlers, because she will tattle over Little Man for looking at the TV while she’s watching it.
Want a drink yet?
2. Interrupting My Bath
For the record, a full post on this reason to drink is forthcoming. It happens that often.
There’s nothing I enjoy more than getting in an almost scalding hot tub with a good book and having a nice soak. These enjoyable soaks are few and far between now, though, thanks to the kids. The little one sobs wanting to join me. The older one comes in demanding help with homework or wanting to pick my brain about something that happened at school. The really old one (I’m looking at you, hubby) comes in to tell me the kids aren’t listening.
Interruptions. Interruptions, galore! And forget locking the door — if Little Man doesn’t use his library card to open the lock, Baby Girl will attempt to break it down.
The most annoying of the interruptions is when the kids come in to ask me to do something that a) I can’t do BECAUSE I’M IN THE TUB and b) they could’ve either done themselves or asked their dad to help with.
3. Destroying My House
It’s a rare thing that my house is clean and organized. I try, but most days I only whittle away at fixing the disaster zone that is our home. Sometimes, though, the moon and stars align and the house is perfect — so perfect that someone could knock on my door and I’d gladly invite them in instead of making them stand on the porch. (Yes, I will absolutely do that…so call first!)
Everyone knows that it’s in a kid’s DNA to destroy things — especially clean houses. (If your kid is neat and tidy and never spills anything, then you’ve simply lucked out with a gene mutation.) So even though I know that the kids are going to mess things up, it still makes me die inside to watch it happen.
4. When They Won’t Eat My Food
I know that I sound like the biggest hypocrite in the world right now. The picky eater who drove her grandmother crazy, who has friends who will make her something special when she eats at their home, who is a self-admitted shitty cook is griping about her kids not eating her food. But this is different, I promise!
You see, I am totally sympathetic to the plight of the picky eater, so I have no problem with whipping up something extra to make sure Baby Girl has something she likes. While I do try to get her to vary her food options, I’m also not gonna complain about being a short order cook. This isn’t what makes me want to drink.
This is:
It’s. Exactly. What. You. Asked. For. EAT. IT.
5. When They Watch Crappy TV Shows
The experts all caution against letting your kids have too much screen time because it will melt their brains or something. They neglect to mention that screen time can be dangerous for parents, too, as certain programs will make the parents want to give themselves a lobotomy. Sure, it’s nice to turn on the the TV and let them watch a show while we do dishes, fold clothes, or cry in the closet, but some of those shows are rough.
I used to be super picky about what Little Man watched on TV. “Nothing but PBS cartoons for my son!” since I hated Spongebob just as much as I hate tattling. When he got a little older, he got more free reign with age appropriate shows, and that’s when I discovered just how awful children’s programming can be. I’ve had to sit through Pokemon, Slugterra, and Lab Rats. With Baby Girl, I’ve caught parts of Peppa Pig and Mother Goose Club. (Pretty much everything on PBS kids is still amazing, outside of Caillou, though.) We have a fairly small house and they watch their shows in the living room, so it’s hard to escape.
But, yeah, that stuff totally makes me want to drink. And seeing Peppa and her family collapse in the floor every other episode makes me want a double.
Since many of you guys have already mentioned things your kids do that make you want to drink on the game post, what would your drink of choice be if you did play the game?
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So, I was working on a post about things my kids do that make me want to drink when I got the idea to create a Parenting Drinking Game. Like the drinking game memes that go around during presidential speeches where you take a shot when the president uses a made up word or something, this is a game where you take a drink when your kids do something at least somewhat annoying or infuriating. I should probably release this after the other post, but here’s something a little fun to cheer up your Monday. (And if your Monday is perfect and doesn’t need cheering up, don’t tell the rest of us.)
(Click the image to view a much larger version!)
What would you add to this list?
If you’re one of the special few who might feel inclined to blast me for promoting getting blasted around your kids, let me stop you right there — this post is meant to be humorous and such comments will be deleted. That’s all.Ā
Letās connect on social media! You can find me onĀ Facebook,Ā Twitter, Ā Instagram, andĀ Bloglovin.
Isn’t Facebook great? You can go online and share everything about your life with your family, friends, acquaintances (aka people you met once), and stalkers. Whether it’s picture after picture chronicling your kids’ childhoods, because the whole world really needs to know about your 10-year-old’s haircutĀ (guilty as charged) or vague status updates about that someone in your life who needs to butt out and piss off, you can share it all on Facebook.
Some people hated it when “old people” (our parents and grandparents) got on Facebook. “It’s gonna be ruined!” they complained. And by “ruined” they meant, “I can’t post pictures of my half naked ass puking in the bushes or status updates about all the wild sex I’m having.” Aside from the oftenĀ jumbled status updates about “COUSIN LENNY XLKSKD FIRE” and the 3,249 requests to play Farmville, it wasn’t that bad, though.
“Old people” definitely did not ruin Facebook. Sure, there might be an accidental — and highly inappropriate — gif or laughing reaction on a post about someone being on their deathbed, but that’s always good for a chuckle since it slightly lightens the situation. Even more so when they apologetically post about how they didn’t mean to put that or that Zuckerburg must have hacked their profiles. (Because deleting the offensive post is clearly not an option.)
(By the way, I’m putting quotation marks around “old people” because the people that we considered old a decade ago aren’t much that much older than we are now…)
Since we know what “old people” on Facebook looks like, let’s imagine for a moment that our toddlers got accounts and were given free reign. Their pictures would probably be just as bad as an older newcomer to Facebook. Where you might see an old person post three different profile pictures in various orientations until they get one that’s upright, you’d probably see pictures like this from a toddler:
Have you ever felt especially stabby when someone posts pictures about their amazing vacation while you’re stuck in the office or at home dealing with two projectile vomiting children and Laundry Mountain?
When you take a break for a minute and mindlessly scroll through Facebook, you’re faced with a picture that isĀ angled just right to show off an adult beverage, toes, and sand.
If a toddler had a Facebook account, this is what they’d post:
And, of course, there would be the inevitable passive-aggressive comment from a jealous toddler friend…
Oof.
Toddlers would also probably be just as self-conscious about the number of likes on their posts as the average angsty younger Millennial was.
And you know how new parents seems to be cursed with an affliction that causes them to overshare on Facebook during their child’s first year? Well, toddlers would probably be like that, too.
The best part of toddlers being on Facebook would be all of the drama, though. You know they’d have it. They go from one extreme mood to another in the snap of a finger, and just like an insecure 29-year-old who has had way too many shots of Fireball, there would be no hesitation in putting that drama all over Facebook.
Toddlers on Facebook would definitely be interesting.
Letās connect on social media! You can find me onĀ Facebook,Ā Twitter, Ā Instagram, andĀ Bloglovin.
First and foremost, Happy Mother’s Day to all the mamas out there! To everyone who has played that played that role in a child’s life and to all the moms-in-waiting, I hope your day is great. And a special Happy Mother’s Day to my grandmother in heaven — I may not have been her biological daughter, but she sure treated me like one during our time together.
I’ll save any further sappiness (as well as a doodle of the most interesting trophy ever that I was gifted) for another post. In honor of Mother’s Day, I’m introducing a challenge of sorts that will give you the chance to grill your kids and see what sort of funny stuff they can come up with.
1. My mom is _____ years old and weighs _____ pounds.
2. My mom is good at cooking _____ and is not so good at cooking _____.
3. If my mom were a superhero, her name would be ______ and her superpower would be _____.
4. And if my mom were a villain, her name would be ______ and she would use her evil powers to _____.
5. I love it when my mom ______.
6. When my mom is driving, she _________.
7. I like it when my mom _______ and I don’t like it when my mom _________.
8. My mom does not like to _______.
9. My mom does ________ the best and _________ the worst.
10. I’m thankful for my mom because ___________.
Rules:
Get your kid/kids (regardless of age) to fill in the blanks and create a new post with their answers. Link back to this post so that your post shows up as a pingback in the comments. Nominate three other bloggers to participate.
Little Man (age 10):
1. My mom is 34 years old and weighs 104 pounds.
2. My mom is good at cooking everything and is not so good at cooking doughnuts.
3. If my mom were a superhero, her name would be Captain Obvious and her superpower would be mind control.
4. And if my mom were a villain, her name would be Professor Bossypants and she would use her evil powers to make other people go my way.
5. I love it when my mom is around.
6. When my mom is driving, she always needs a GPS.
7. I like it when my mom cuddles with me and I don’t like it when my mom fusses at me.
8. My mom does not like to drive in tight spaces.
9. My mom does making cookies the best and navigates the worst.
10. I’m thankful for my mom because she made me alive.
Baby Girl (age 3):
1. My mom is ten years old and weighs 24 pounds.
2. My mom is good at cooking spaghetti and is not so good at cooking yucky crumbs.
3. If my mom were a superhero, her name would be Captain Mommy and her superpower would be throwing ninja stars.
4. And if my mom were a villain, her name would be Bad Mommy and she would use her evil powers to throw plastic cups.
5. I love it when my mom hugs me.
6. When my mom is driving, she holds on to the steering wheel.
7. I like it when my mom plays with me and I don’t like it when my mom says “It’s not your birthday anymore.”
8. My mom does not like to eat yucky things.
9. My mom does cuddling the best and splashes bubbles on me the worst.
10. I’m thankful for my mom because you’re my best mommy.
I love everything about these answers. And I officially want to change the name of this blog to Professor Bossypants, but I probably won’t.
For the record, I’d like to see any mom who reads this blog participate in this challenge, but here are three in particular who definitely should:
Honest K
Baby Costs Money
The Lupie Momma
And dad bloggers — feel free to join in and change the wording up a bit!
Let’s connect on social media! You can find me onĀ Facebook,Ā Twitter, Ā Instagram, andĀ Bloglovin.
Knowing that your kid thinks you can move mountains is a good feeling, right? They believe in us more than we believe in ourselves, even after six shots of Fireball, and that’s saying something.Ā No matter what problem comes up, they think we can fix it, whether it’s making their ouchies better with the healing powers in our kisses or ridding their room of monsters with magic swords.
There are times, though, when they overestimate our abilities and times when we really wish that they weren’t so confident in us. Like when Baby Girl lets her popsicle melt into a sticky mess and asks me to fix it — I can’t do that. When God was handing out parenting superpowers, he totally skipped giving me the ability to instantly revert a liquid into a solid. No sorcerer powers here. I can’t snap my fingers and make the sun stop shining too brightly, either. I do have Spidey like reflexes when it comes to catching a kid’s vomit before it goes all over the couch, though, which is severely underappreciated.
One time the kids really tend to overestimate just how much I’m capable of is when we’re in the car. They expect me to be Doc Ock while I’m driving, and since I prefer us all arriving wherever we’re going in one piece, I often disappoint them. (Not that this disappointment stops them from believing in me, though.) Here are some of the things they’ve requested over the past few months:
This from the child who once told me that I wasn’t any good at doing Transformers? I wouldn’t even if I could.
This one was tempting, just because he bragged about being better at Mario than me. The ability to gloat was just slightly edged out by not wanting to put my car in a ditch.
That’s a cheesy roll-up from Taco Bell, in case you’re wondering — something she has no trouble managing in the car. She was watching me doodle and requested that I show her eating that, so there ya go. More recently she’s requested that I feed her ice cream. She insisted on a cup of ice cream, even though I told her she couldn’t eat it in the car and that she’d have to wait until we got home, but she thought I could work my parenting mojo anyway. Nope.
At least she didn’t ask me to rub her back this time, I guess?
Baby Girl also frequently asks me to pick up things she’s dropped. Now, if she dropped things like a normal person, I could reach behind and grab whatever it is at a stop light or stop sign since her car seat is behind me. However, she typically drops things as far away from my reach as possible. So, not only am I not Doc Ock, I’m not Elastigirl, either, even if my crappy doodles do make my arms look ridiculously long sometimes.
So, dear kiddos of mine, I greatly appreciate your confidence in my abilities, but let’s cool it on the requests while I’m driving a one-and-a-half ton car down the road at 55 mph (that’s my story and I’m sticking to it), okay?
Following the WordPress Discover post, there are a lot of new followers on this blog — welcome aboard! I’m having trouble pulling up a full list of followers to visit, so drop a link to one of your best posts in the comments so I can be sure to stop by your blog. Don’t forget to connect with me on social media, too. You can find me onĀ Facebook,Ā Twitter, Ā Instagram, andĀ Bloglovin.
This is my fourth year doing the challenge (although not all on the same blog) and my first time submitting all posts on time. In the words of Borat, “Great success!”
Twenty-six days, twenty-six stories (five of which were repeats), twenty-six sets of doodles. And 105 new doodles were created for those 21 brand-new posts. Considering that I was very slack the past few months, with my average of 2 to 3 posts per month, that’s a lot of new dork material. Now I just need to find a happy middle ground post schedule-wise!
This month saw me blasting to the past — anywhere from a week ago to 23 years ago. There were posts that probably made you fear for our lives a little, posts that warmed your hearts, and posts that probably made you almost lose your lunch. Variety FTW!
Here are the top five posts in terms of likes for the month:
‘U’ is for Uh-Oh – Baby Girl had some leakage on vacation.
‘Z’ is for Zzzz – My daughter makes my anxiety worse at night.
‘S’ is for Surgery – My husband took Valium for his vasectomy, and it was funny.
‘M’ is for Money – I made someone think I’m against a Down Syndrome society.
‘V’ is for Valentine’s Day – My grandmother let my husband almost scare me to death.
Runner up:
‘E’ is for Eating – I accidentally ordered a whole chicken.
The Surgery post was my favorite overall (it’s always fun to write about someone else’s embarrassing moments!), followed closely by ‘J’ is for JTT, because who doesn’t love tween cringe?
Now that it’s all over, I’m going to continue working on that book. I’ve got my categories figured out and have chosen a bunch of different stories to include. Next up: retool some of the stories, create new stories/doodles, and figure out who the heck would publish something like this/check out self-publish options.
Thanks to everyone who stopped by to check out the doodled madness this month! What was your favorite post?
