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.

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eBook Giveaway Winners

Congratulations to the following folks who entered the raffle to win an eBook copy of Don’t Lick That!

Chelsea O.

Eric W.

Amanda B.

You guys will receive an email with instructions on how to redeem your copy of the book.

If you’re on GoodReads, you can follow my author page here.

Thanks to everyone who has shared news of the book. If you missed the post yesterday, here are the details for the book purchase:

The “Don’t Lick That!” book is now available for purchase. In addition to some of the stories I’ve shared on this blog, I’ve also included new stories about the kids and myself, a chapter called Parenting Truths, a chapter with one-liners from the kids, a chapter called The Science of Parenting with mostly new content, and a bonus chapter that offers the worst parenting advice you’ll ever get. (If the last part doesn’t sell you, then nothing will.)

You can purchase it as an eBook and download it via Amazon or purchase the paperback through Amazon or Barnes and Noble. (Amazon has free shipping for Prime users.) Additionally, 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.

The Big Day Is Here!

The “Don’t Lick That!” book is now available for purchase. In addition to some of the stories I’ve shared on this blog, I’ve also included new stories about the kids and myself, a chapter called Parenting Truths, a chapter with one-liners from the kids, a chapter called The Science of Parenting with mostly new content, and a bonus chapter that offers the worst parenting advice you’ll ever get. (If the last part doesn’t sell you, then nothing will.)

You can purchase it as an eBook and download it via Amazon or purchase the paperback through Amazon or Barnes and Noble. (Amazon has free shipping for Prime users.)

The raffle to win a free eBook will end today at 11:59 PM, and I’m giving away three books. I’ll do a post tomorrow for the winners and email the winners their promo codes.

If you purchase the book and enjoy it, please consider leaving feedback on Amazon, B&N, or GoodReads.

Thanks to everyone who has been so supportive through this! ❤

Keep Your Glittery Cards And Presents To Yourself

This is a repost from last year, but I feel it is worth sharing again before people start sending out Christmas cards and wrapping presents…

If you’re wrapping gifts or sending Christmas cards that have glitter on them, you need to stop.

Seriously, STOP.

You know what it tells me when someone does the glitter thing? That you hate me. That you want to drive me freaking insane. That you should join the Taliban. That you’re an evil person with no heart.

Glitter is the evil gift that keeps on giving all year. No matter how hard you clean or dust off your clothes, it doesn’t completely go away. In fact, it multiplies. Don’t ask me how glitter procreates, but I’m almost certain that it does.

There has been a piece of glitter somewhere on my face or eye for the past two days that I can’t find. I know it’s there, because when the light hits it a certain way, I can see it glimmer in my peripheral vision. (It’s gold, BTW.) But when I look in a mirror, I can’t find it. (No, I’m NOT crazy…or not in the imagining glimmering light type of way, anyway.) It’ll go away enough, I’m sure hope, but it’s draining me of my Christmas spirit.

I’m officially putting everyone on notice —

If you give me something with glitter, I’m not going to be your friend anymore, and if you’re family, I’ll disown you. I’ll still love you, but I’ll remove you from the Favorites list on my phone and/or I’ll scratch you off my family tree. This is saying you don’t like The Office level bad.

I’ll also get you back. It might not be tomorrow, next week, or even next month, but make no mistake — I’ll exact my revenge. I’ll go buy ten pounds of glitter and throw it on your car after it rains. I’ll slip glitter in your shampoo the next time I visit. I may even go Carrie style and fill a bucket with glitter and rig it to dump on you when you open the door to your home.

Get it? No. More. Glitter.

And with that, Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays, everyone. Make your days be merry and bright, and may all your Christmases be glitter-free.

If I start a “BAN GLITTER” petition, who would sign it?

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. 

‘Don’t Lick That!’ eBook Giveaway

So, the book should be released in one week! To get ready for that, I’m doing a giveaway of the eBook via Rafflecopter. The winners will receive a code to download the book from Amazon.

You can go to the Rafflecopter form using this link or visit my Facebook page. You have a few different ways of entering, with the first being selecting the option that you are a follower of this blog. You can also do things like tweet or subscribe to a blog update for more entries if you want, but it’s not necessary.

If you enter and would take a moment to share or reblog this, I’d appreciate it! 🙂

Parent Speak

Have you ever noticed how adults start talking differently when they become parents? I don’t mean doing the baby talk stuff, which some certainly do, so much as the way they phrase things. Aside from trying to omit “bad words,” parents tend to phrase things in a way that won’t make them sound like assholes when the kids repeat stuff at preschool (which they surely will).

For today’s post, let’s explore a few things parents say to their kids and what those sayings really mean.

Of course, parents aren’t the only ones who have to say things more…diplomatically. Take the stranger who has been around your kid for all of five minutes, for example.

Yikes.

What’s your Parent Speak phrase? 

Update time! I posted this on my social media accounts yesterday (and if you aren’t following me on there, use one of the links in the sidebar to like/add me), but I’ll share it here, too, for those who missed it.

I’m planning to release the book on November 28 in both eBook and paperback formats. I get nervous putting a firm date out there, since that is practically begging for something to go wrong, but that’s what I’ve told Amazon, so I suppose I can tell y’all, too.

Here is a 3D rendering of what the book will look like:

I’ll be doing a giveaway as the end of the month gets closer. Email me at dorkymomdoodles (at) gmail.com if you want to help promote the book later this month.

What Partying In Your 30s Looks Like

Age might just be a number, but there still comes a time when you know your days of being considered young are officially behind you. That day might come when you hear kids refer to something you liked when you were younger as “old school.” Or, it might be when you’re filling out forms online and have to move up from the age bracket that includes ages 18-34 to 35-50. (That’s happening for me next month. RIP my youth.) If you don’t consider those indicators of moving from youngish adult to adult-adult, then maybe it’s having sound effects accompanying you when you get up in the mornings.

One of my least favorite parts of getting older is my stomach. I absolutely cannot stomach some of the things I used to have no problem with. For example, pepperoni and chocolate give me heartburn. Just looking at raw cookie dough makes the acid in my stomach start moving upwards. And alcohol? Oh lord. Now, this doesn’t mean that I don’t still partake in any of the things mentioned, but there will be consequences.

Back in my college days, it was a rare thing for me to ever get a hangover. It didn’t matter the amount I drank or what combination I had (I knew some people who would get sick off of mixing beer and hard liquor). I rarely felt bad the next day. But these days? If I have as much as one cocktail, my body usually makes sure I pay for it, whether it’s within the hour or the next morning.

This brings me to partying in your 30s. First of all, people in their 30s don’t often refer to their gatherings as “parties.” We call them “get-togethers” or “cookouts” or just say “we’re hanging out.” Unless it’s for a special event, there usually aren’t parties. And while our get-togethers are still a lot of fun, they often look very different from what parties in our 20s looked like.

In your 20s, you’ll almost always see someone doing a keg stand or shotgunning a beer. And you’ll definitely see someone playing quarters or beer pong.

Fast forward to your 30s, and hello, exciting night of board and card games! Maybe you don’t do something this tame every time you get together, but how often did board games make an appearance during the 20s? Probably never.

At parties in your 20s, it was hard to go more than 10 minutes without hearing someone yell out, “Shots!” The frequency of that word being yelled out decreases big time in your 30s.

The only shots you’re saying “Yes” to every half hour in your 30s are shots of Pepto Bismol.

Did you like staying up until the wee hours of the morning in the club on New Years Eve/Day when you were in your 20s? (Technically, I never did, but I’m putting myself in a club for the purpose of this post.)

Well, this is what New Years Eve may look like in your 30s.

That was our last New Years Eve. Usually we at least do a get-together with friends, but we were having a hard time even holding our heads up at midnight on this one.

And the only drugs you see at parties in your 30s are the kind you find over-the-counter at the pharmacy.

So, I have headache powder, tums, and if you want something strong–Zyrtec.

Isn’t getting older fun?

What’s something you find yourself doing at parties/get-togethers these days that reminds you that you aren’t young anymore? 

A Dorky Brain

Since I’m still neck-deep in the book stuff and haven’t had time for a normal blog post over the past week, I thought I’d share a doodle I’m including in the book.

(The other doodles have stories or anecdotes. This is just a doodle I used to close out the chapter that has stories about me.)


For a couple of housekeeping type things–

  • I am creating a mailing list. (That’s on the list of things you’re supposed to do when you write a book, so I’m checking that off.) I’ll use it to send out a weekly blog recap and book updates and promotions. This is mostly to avoid cluttering up the blog with that sort of stuff later. You can click this link to subscribe to the mailing list.
  • If you want to help me promote the book once I have a release date, email me at dorkymomdoodles (at) gmail.com.

And that’s that. The awkward self-promotion crap is over for now.


What does your brain look like? 

Just Call Me Super Mom

Have you ever seen those stickers and t-shirts that say, “I’m a teacher, what’s your superpower?” Maybe insert “nurse, mailman, or [whatever else]” for teacher. Well, I might not be a teacher anymore, but I am a mom, and by default, that means I have a number of superpowers. There are things I can do that no one else in my house has the power to do, and while they may not be as glamours as shooting fire from the palm of my hands, these powers are still pretty cool. (I’m being very liberal with my use of the world “cool,” by the way.) As such, I expect my invitation to the Justice League to arrive any day now.

Enhanced Vision

Thanks to my super enhanced vision, I’m able to spot items that are too small to be seen with the naked eye. This comes in very handy around the house, and I often become The Finder of the Things.

Why, yes, I can see through walls.

Step aside, Superman. Your microscopic vision has nothing on mine. The only thing my enhanced vision is unable to detect is socks. As you’ll recall from my last post, they’re basically my kryptonite.

Super Strength

Wonder Woman can throw cars and the such, but can she do the one thing that no one else in my house has the strength to do?

That’s right, I alone have the strength to do things like remove empty toilet paper rolls and replace them with new ones. I’m also the only person strong enough to close a cabinet door. At first glance, you might think that doing such things would be easy, but based on my family’s inability to complete such tasks, I came to realize my own strength. Clearly things like cabinet doors, toilet paper rolls, and clothes — which the people in my house manage to get to the bathroom but can’t actually  put them in the hamper — weigh a ton. I might not look like I have much in the way of muscles, but sometimes looks can be deceiving.

Mind Reading

Have you ever noticed that children can be super vague at times when it comes to telling you what they want or whatever it is that they have a problem with? They sometimes give you the absolute bare minimum in the way of details and expect you to be able to figure it out anyway. Maybe not everyone could figure out what, “I want [incoherent mumbles]” means, but I can, thanks to being able to read minds. I’m basically Charles Xavier with more hair.

I don’t even have to wait for her to finish that question before I say, “No.”

This comes in handy with lying, too. I don’t catch them telling lies often, but I always know when they do.

Mom Sense

You’ve heard of spidey sense, but have you heard of mom sense? It works pretty much the same, only instead of being able to deflect the Green Goblin’s pumpkin bombs, I do things like catch a falling cup of milk and stop the kids from ending up in the ER.

Catching a glass of milk might not be as satisfying as deflecting a bomb, but at least I don’t have a mess to clean up.

So, yeah, I’ve got powers. The only things I’m missing is the ability to fly, turn invisible, and having super stretchy arms. Becoming invisible would be nifty when they’re annoying me and I want a moment of peace and quiet, and that last one would come in extra handy when we’re in the car.

What’s your superpower? 

Book update time: “Don’t Lick That! [Tales of Parenting and Other Madness]” should be out within the next couple of months if everything goes as planned. (Self-published — it will be available on Amazon and other online retailers.) I’m in the final stages now and am trying to figure out the whole marketing thing. One suggestion I read was to form a “street team” (rolls eyes) to help with online promotion. If you’d be interested in doing that (I’ll form a Facebook group), email me at dorkymomdoodles@gmail.com. (I feel awkward as hell about this, but that’s better than other suggestions I read like making a video or podcast.)

Parenting Advice Series: Freaking Socks

Someone told me that I should give parenting advice on my blog. I snickered to myself when she said it, because what the heck do I have to offer people in terms of advice? I’ve been a mom for a decade, and I’m only slightly less clueless than the day I brought the first kid home from the hospital. I’m useless where getting picky eaters to eat goes. I couldn’t tell you how to get the kids out the door so you can get to school on time. And I definitely couldn’t tell you how to deal with tantrums, relatives who think they know how to raise your kids better than you, or how to keep car seats clean.

“Maybe I’ll do that,” I said, because I didn’t want to say, “I’m the last person anyone should come to for parenting advice.”

But then — nine months later (because it takes the same amount of time for me to have a good idea as it does to grow a baby) — I was folding clothes and I had a thought.

Oooh, SOCKS. Maybe I do have a little parenting advice to offer the world.  (Well, if not the world, then new parents, at least.) It only took a moment of rage to figure that out. And then I started thinking about other things along those lines, and boom — I had enough stuff to make a post. Or two. Or three.

Here we go.

In my time as a parent, I’ve learned that you should never buy cute socks for the kids. Cute socks come in different cute designs and colors, and do you know what all of that cuteness means? NEVER HAVING A PAIR OF SOCKS THAT MATCH. I wish you could see my laundry basket right now. It is full of cute socks that are missing their mates. There is even a sock that fit my preemie sized Baby Girl in the basket that is holding out hope that one day I’ll find the other one. (I refuse to throw it away. I’ll take that baby sock to my grave if I have to.)

I don’t have a clue where the damn things go, either. It’s almost like someone is breaking in my house when I’m not home and stealing socks here and there. If you’ve watched Home Alone, then you’ve heard of the Wet Bandits, and now there’s the Sock Bandits. All they take is one sock from each matching pair, because they want to slowly drive you insane.

(If those guys look familiar, it’s because they made an appearance in a post I did where I mentioned using a bug spray of sorts to get rid of religious people showing up unannounced. I guess payback is a bitch.)

I’ve looked in all the drawers, under the couch, in the toy boxes, and I cannot find them. I get missing a few socks, but I have at least 40 socks in that basket.

Are the sock companies in cahoots? Do they rig the socks in a way that makes one of them self-destruct after a certain amount of time, so that you have to keep buying more? Because — aside from the self-destruct component costing more than the sock itself costs to be made — that’s a good explanation.

Or maybe there is a portal to another dimension in my house that only socks can access. There is another world completely filled with socks that don’t match. Or maybe it’s not another dimension at all and is just part of one of the circles of Hell that wasn’t mentioned in Inferno. Dante was all like, “Shit, socks are boring, so I’ma focus on people being ripped apart by dogs.” In a less exciting area, there was a pile of socks that the sinners had to sort through for eternity.

I can understand why he would leave that out, since writing about sock sorting in a poem is kind of lame.

(New thought: a series on the nine circles of hell, parenting style.)

So, take it from me — don’t buy socks with designs or colors or brand logos or anything. Don’t be like me and go, “Ugh, those plain socks are so fugly, I’m gonna get these cute stripey ones where each pair comes in a different color and maybe the moon and stars will align and none of them will get lost.”

Where do you think the socks go?