Category: Kid Stuff

Those Four Little Words

Middle school was not easy for me, for several reasons, but mostly because I looked like this:


Oh, girl. Just. . . . no.

I have blocked out most of it, because it was awful. Y’all think kids are mean in general? Try looking like that. I was 11 in that picture! Awful, though I did learn very early on that relying on my looks to get me through life was not going to be an option. Some stuff stays with me, like the octave my sister used when she sang “Bucky the Beeeeaaaaa-vah!” to me, or when my mother would ask me after a dental visit if they flossed between my front teeth with a rope. Yes, these actually DID happen.

So my oldest, the angel, is in third grade. She’s beautiful and will have none of the same issues that I had, and for that, I am simultaneously grateful and jealous. Her white-blonde hair and striking blue eyes make it obvious that she’s a combination of our best features, but put together in a way that allow her to look like neither her father, nor I.

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The Many Faces of The Little Jerk

The Little Jerk has had a million pictures taken of her since she was born. She’s likely the most photographed baby on Facebook, and because of this, has a large following. She was sarcastic from the start, because she has a very expressive face. Sidenote: I was at a bar when I was younger, and I was sitting at a table watching people walk in, and like any immature 20-something, was mentally assessing them. After a bit, a woman came up to me and said “Honey, you have a very expressive face; you really need to watch yourself.”

And it’s true, I do. And I credit my whole “still being alive” thing with the absence of a thought bubble, because if I had one, we would surely be in trouble. TLJ has an expressive face as well, and my dry sarcasm as her “inner monologue”. One of my favorite things to do when she was younger became getting these ridiculous expressions in pictures to send in for her high school yearbook cherish forever. Here are a few of my favorites, and what I’m positive she was thinking at the time:

That isn’t it, y’all. You have to click here to read the rest!

Kindependence Day

It comes as no surprise to anyone that’s ever met me that I parent with great sarcasm and little enthusiasm. Actually, I’m enthusiastic, and I love my kids more than I could ever put into words, but I am not as maternal as most mothers. I need personal space and little chaos. Luckily my oldest child is freaking awesome and wonderful and well behaved and does not fault me for this. This is her a few days before her first day of school, since I actually forgot to take a picture. The beams from heaven are proof if what an angel she is.


Angel Baby

She had been in daycare from the tender age of five months, so when the first day of school came, I’ll be quite honest and say that it felt little different. I didn’t put her on the bus because it came at an ungodly hour, so I took her and dropped her off, and it felt really no different.

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Strict Daddy

When Hubbin and I met, my oldest daughter was 2. He has, since day one, been absolutely wonderful with her; couldn’t ask for more from him. For obvious reasons, I handled all the discipline that involved more than a general reprimand. While he’s usually agreed with what I’ve done, there were distinct points when she was younger that I knew he disagreed with how I chose to handle things (especially before we got married, and I was on my own and she was younger). There were occasions where it was very obvious that he would “never tolerate” that, had it been up to him. Now, mind you, he’s never been the strict disciplinarian he thought he was. One blink from Kennedy’s big blue eyes and he would just melt. He is a bit softer than he would have admitted, but still held very high expectations.

You learn, though, pretty early on if you’re lucky, that you have to pick your battles with a tiny toddler terrorist. And some days, after working 12 hours, it’s just not worth arguing about stupid stuff. So you make concessions and you give in to stuff that you swore you would neeeeeever do. Before we had The Little Jerk, I said “Just you wait. You wait until it’s been a long day, and you’re exhausted and she’s fussy and you’ll give in too. You just wait.” Not Hubbin, though; he was going to be Strict Daddy. Strict Daddy enforces dinner time, and Strict Daddy won’t be picking any battles because Strict Daddy won’t be teaching any children that you can whine your way out of something you don’t like.

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Ok, so I wasn’t going to say anything because I mean…it’s kind of personal and most people don’t need to hear it, but whatever, here we go. It’s mildly entertaining I think.

I went and got formally baby-proofed. And before you say “OMG that’s a major surgery, Hubbin should have done it!” believe me, I agree. However, Hubbin has been upfront and honest since Day 1 that he would NOT be having any baby-proofing surgery, and also, he wouldn’t mind another child. So while I did not want the surgery, I didn’t want another baby even more.

Two nights before, Hubbin looks at me and says “Are you sure you want to do this?” Hmm…let’s recap, shall we?

Um, yeah.

Yeah, Hubbin, no thanks.

So the day before, I go in for all my pre-op blood work and paper-signing. The doctor is giving me all the disclaimers, saying that it’s possible to still get pregnant, and he says “If that happens…” and I interrupt with “You’ll pay child support, right?” and it was then that I realized that his sense of humor was not all that great. No more jokes, Lacky.

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The Trip – Part 2

So of course, this whole story began during A Fashion Heat Stroke when I dressed as if it were 60 degrees, when it was (instead) 107.  I kept that in mind while deciding what to wear to pick up the oldest one from camp.  It was going to be a nice 80 degrees, so I felt like this was the only logical attire:

After this, I’m going to the moon, y’all.


Pickup went great.  She survived camp and we were so glad to see her!  We packed up and said goodbye to Camp Idlewild and were on our way.

Since I hadn’t had enough punishment the day before, I took the baby, who had been horrible all day, and the kid that was exhausted from camp, and Hubbin back to the mall to shop!  Doesn’t that sound like an awesome idea? It was just as fun as it sounds. Even though we were in the car for over an hour, giving the baby plenty of time to sleep, she chose instead to give me the death glare the entire ride. She fell asleep 5 minutes before we got to The Cheesecake Factory, which every parent will agree that having a tired, cranky child fall asleep 5 minutes before you get somewhere is like the worst outcome ever.

That isn’t it, y’all. You have to click here to read the rest!