the hardest parts

I have always said that my most favorite age and stage in the lives of each of my children is this one, the one they are in now…except for the adolescence of my first born. Don’t judge. She agrees. It was hard on both of us. And we both lived to tell the tale.

Thank gawd!

But yes, the best part in the lives of my individual children is this part right now when you are asking me what is the best part.

And it is often also the hardest part.

Sharing a moment with one of my grown circus clowns, we discussed just this. We talked about potty training and how she remembers the day I gave up and put her back in diapers because we both weren’t ready. I remember relief and later feeling vindicated when two months down the road she was ready and accident free. She remembers feeling so mad and sad that I put her back in diapers.

OMG, she was 2½! She remembers that!

And sharing a glass or two or more of wine, we recall each age and stage…the big sister worship, the picking on the baby sister, the silly times, the hard times, the scary times, the fun times.

And now here we are, sharing wine together…and she shares what’s going on in her life right now I am wishing we were back in the days of potty training battles because potty training was a lot easier than this is right now. This part where they are grown up and they make mistakes and they deal with consequences and tears and fears and heartbreak and mommy can’t fix it is hard. Too hard sometimes. I could easily dispense my wealth of wisdom telling her what she must do. But in spite of the wine…or because of the wine, I just listen because just listening is what she wants, what she needs the most right now…and hugs and wine and The Kitten Bowl that I dvr’d especially for her.

This parenting gig gets harder and harder I swear. What I wouldn’t give for a little potty training right now…seriously.

Sorry millennial parents! The hardest part of parenting, like the very best part, is the here and the now.

Hang in there.

I am.



she’ll get it herself, thank you very much

She is now at the age where she will get up, walk her little monster-walk across the room and get the supplies needed to change her diaper…after she is done hiding in the other room, in the corner, pooping.
Which brings to mind a question that I have…what is this with her pooping every time she comes over to the Big Top…every single time…any time of the day…even when she (and mommy) is coming over to borrow a cup of milk?

Yes, this is my very first post of 2013 and it is about poop!

tastes just like…?

Mmmm-mmmm! Magenta! Magenta Crayola crayons are quite tasty! Thank goodness they are non-toxic too. Why color with a magenta crayon when you can eat one? It certainly leads to more colorful diapers…or at least so I have been told by her mama.

Oh, I’ve seen my fair share of gloriously multi-colored diapers thanks to my children’s past experimental tastings of the arts and crafts supplies in pre-school. I’ve seen enough to know that they do survive. Hey, I’m quite healthy in my forites considering all the paste I ate back in the day. I count it all to a very bright, active, curious mind that is just not satisfied with looking, hearing and touching. Sometimes you just have to taste. I’m okay with it just as long as it is the child-safe, non-toxic variety and yes, I am careful to make sure that it is. Nothing but the very best goes in my grandbaby’s mouth.

I wonder what magenta tastes like? I do wonder. But I don’t wonder enough to nibble a bit on a magenta crayon. I couldn’t even if I wanted to since Hazel already had her fill here.

now who changes the diapers around here?

As Hazel grows, I am amused with how she imitates her mama, her grandparents. She flatters us. Her latest imitation?

…the butt-sniffing-checking-diaper action

“What? You think I should change my baby’s diaper?”

Over at ModMoms Club today I am talking (in a round-about way) the idea of who should be the one to change the diapers and all the other child-rearing activities that come with it. Oh, and a little bit about Jon Gosselin because he needs to stay in the public eye even if he protests that he didn’t sign on for that.

otter pops are love

Mmmm….otter pops! Yummy, frozen, colorful, high fructose corn syrup goodness! It’s a perfectly delicious treat on a hot, muggy summer’s day. In moderation of course.

Unless you are fortunate enough to live in a household with seven big people who are all easily overcome by your cute, blue-eyed, chubby, toddler wiles. There’s always the chance that they might have communicated that you have already enjoyed a yummy otter pop…or two…or three…or…well, remember, there are seven other people living here in this house.

Otter pops are truly love.

Until you have to deal with four or five complete clothing changes due to, um, diaper leakage. That is not good…not good at all.

I take it back. Otter pops (and high fructose corn syrup) are the devil!