"I Did It!"

You know what's awesome? When your child taps you on the arm and says "Look momma! I did it!". You know what's even awesomer? When what they "did" was shove a fluorescent pink bead up each one of their nostrils. Yeah... That happened yesterday... It was fun.

As if it wasn't already, you know what made it the MOST awesome? Adam was at the studio all.night.long., not arriving home until 7am that morning. He promptly went to bed only to be awakened by a screaming child and Dr. Mom on the hunt for tweezers. He sat up in bed asking what's wrong and I believe something along the lines of "YOUR daughter shoved two plastic beads up her nose and now I am searching for tweezers to perform a complicated appenbeadomy!! That's whats wrong!" To say he freaked out would be an understatement.

Just another normal Thursday in the Martin house....

A Day in the Life

So I recently read an article in which a woman defends the fact that stay-at-home mothers are in fact busy. I concur.

After reading about a typical day in this mom's life I was inspired - and thoughtful. When my husband arrives home in the evening I am usually pooped. I thought about what I do all day that makes me feel as though I've been hit by a truck. I decided I would share a day in OUR life. Enjoy.

At 7am the princess wakes and promptly begins screaming for mommy because she has a child safety cover on her doorknob so she doesn't escape during the night and again attempt to light her talking big bird on fire. After chasing her into her tent and dragging her out by one leg, I change her diaper and put her pants (which she removes periodically during the night or upon waking and places in her sock drawer or hamper) back on her.

Next order of business is breakfast. She cries for waffles and "tell-o" (Nutella) so while the waffle is in the toaster I flip on Cat-in-the-Hat and attempt to fry eggs for the hubs and I. Apparently the Cat isn't doing anything of particular interest so she begins screaming for her tell-o again. I then remember the waffle I put in the toaster which is now, um, nice and crispy and while checking the freezer for another, realize we are out. I spread the Nutella over the blackened parts and hope she won't notice. Adam wakes up and he and I attempt to eat eggs while MC spreads Nutella on her hands like lotion.

After cleaning up a chocolate explosion, Adam is off to school and I am off to the shower since our playgroup starts in less than an hour. I have to close every door in the house which is also equipped with a child safety knob and make sure all outside entrances are locked and dead bolted. Then, I attempt to shower while sticking my head out every 35 seconds telling MC to: put the nail polish back in the cabinet, take my high heels off her hands and feet, stop pulling the toilet paper off the roll, and Bath and Body Works body mist is not a toy. Slightly clean I step out of the shower and hurry to get ready so I'm not "that mom" who's late to playgroup.

After bribing MC with an old eyeshadow brush, I finally get her hair fixed, diaper changed, and dressed. I pack her book bag with milk and snacks which she immediately sees and begins screaming for. It is now all of 9:45.

I spend most of playgroup chasing her around because she doesn't understand the concept of suicide and neither do most playground equipment manufacturers. After 2 hours of running, jumping, and otherwise keeping my child from certain death, its time to head home for lunch. This is always fun because dragging a two year old from a playground is about as much fun as being dressed as the statue of liberty holding a sign outside one of those Check-into-Cash places.

While preparing a nutritious lunch of hummus, pita chips, carrot sticks, and cheese cubes, I attempt to reheat leftover Chef-Boyardee ravioli my princess refused to eat the night before for myself. After bit number 2 MC is usually finished and now leaving a hummus hand print trail across the living room. We clean up hands and hummus and since she doesn't nap anymore we spend the next 2 hours in a schizophrenic montage of playing dress up, stacking blocks, doing puzzles, reading books, and having tea parties. In the midst of all of this I try to sneak away momentarily to unload and load dishes, do laundry, and clean up toys. When I make it all the way to 277 counting in our hide and seek game and no one has "seeked" her yet because I'm in the kitchen chopping vegetables for dinner, MC attempts to find me and promptly throws a tantrum because I'm not participating.

I remember I need one more thing for dinner and add "WAFFLES" in all caps to my list. I change her diaper, pack the bag, and run out the door to the grocery store. When we get to the car I realize I've forgotten my list but refuse to go back through the door, across the breeze way, through the next door, into the elevator and down the hall to our apartment to retrieve it. After loading up MC in the car seat and listening to 5 minutes of screaming because she wants to watch the "Big Bird's Wish"DVD for the millionth time, we arrive in the parking garage of the grocery store. We get inside and buy our items, stopping at each and every sample station because we all know at age 2 MC has never tried things like oranges and cheese. After we check out and get back in the car to drive home I realize I forgot the waffles. Go back in? Not happening. I make a mental note for tomorrow - go to grocery store. Again.

After loading the bags in the stroller (because we all know we never leave a grocery store with the one item we went in to get) I push it the half a mile to our apartment door while telling MC to stop touching elevator buttons and poking the bug she's found on the breeze way. We get in and I unload while she begs for me to put on the tiger mask so she can play vet. I put it on and roar and cough while she listens to my arm with her stethoscope. I remember I forgot the laundry in the dryer and try to get it folded while my doctor beats on my head with her thermometer.

After laundry is folded and put away, I suggest we walk to the park so I can finally have an excuse to get out of the tiger mask I have been wearing for the last half hour. This requires changing another diaper while she screams she wants to go down the slide and me explaining girls with pee-pee diapers aren't allowed on slides - and maybe a comment or two under my breath about not having to deal with diaper changes if she would just use the potty.

We make it outside and pass the apartment complexes playground. Screaming ensues again.

After making it across the street to the park we begin the 1 hour walk because we have to stop and pick up or touch every caterpillar, bug, ant, or stick-we-think-might-be-a- caterpillar on the way. By the time we make it to the playground and repeat the process of attempted suicide, MC is tired and insists on being carried the rest of the way home. Its about a mile. Uphill.

We return to the house and after being carried, MC is ready to go. I want to effing die. I make some water and we have our 10 minute battle of "MC you need to drink some water" "NO! I want chocolate milk!". I may or may not give in to have 25 seconds of silence.

Its now dinner time and we usually like to play the "MC-what-do-you-want-for-dinner-I-want-M&M's-No-you-can't-have-M&M's-for-dinner game. This continues about 15 minutes until I finally just chose something only to have her turn up her nose and not eat at all. I give her a bath while singing "do your ears hang low" approximately 36 times and then get her in a clean diaper and pajamas. By the time I dry her hair she has pooped in her diaper and we get to change it while listening to her scream that now she wants to play dress up. I change her dress up outfit about 9 times because she takes after her mother and could qualify as the world's most indecisive person. We play princess and put spells on stuffed animals until I tell her its time for bed. 100th tantrum of the day.

We get her back into her pajamas, well, new pajamas because she has decided that Dora is no longer acceptable and wants Minnie mouse. She cries again because Minnie mouse is dirty. I somehow convince her to settle on Elmo pants and a cupcake shirt.

We brush her teeth which also requires an energetic rendition of a Barney song, then we're off to choose two books to read. This takes no less than 10 minutes because, as previously mentioned, she is utterly indecisive. If I attempt to choose for her there is yelling. If I hear more yelling I will go into a coma and then she'll never get put to sleep. So I wait.

We get into bed, read our two books, say our prayers, turn on our ladybug star light, nightlight, and music. After kisses and hugs I close the door and look forward to eating my 8:30 pm dinner. I sit down on the couch with my meal and wait for the inevitable. There it is. "Mommy! I scared!". I ignore it for as long as possible but when the fingers stick out from under the door I succumb to guilt and go back in her room and put her back in bed. We do this for about and hour and then I get to eat.

A few minutes later, about 10pm, Adam walks in and asks how my day was."Good."

It's a Buggy-Bug World

Entomologist. That might very well be printed below Maggie Claire's name on a door plaque one day. The child LOVES bugs. Now, what does one do when their child expresses and intense interest in a particular area? You buy EVERYTHING that has to do with that particular interest. Don't lie to yourself, readers. We all do it. If your 1 year old expresses and interest in Elmo, you better believe that kid is going to have Elmo movies, stuffed animals, pajamas,etc. We just can't help ourselves. So, being the nurturing parent that I am I knew I needed to foster this newfound desire for all things buggy. However, when you are completely broke on a tight budget, this can make things a little more difficult..... enter superhero music and Target symbol.

Who DOESN'T love this place? Granted, I was never a huge Target person before we moved to NC. However, we have one SO close to our apartment that I can't help but go there at least once a week. Now, having mentioned that we are on a limited budget you are probably wondering why in the world I would subject myself to the tortures of Target - new merchandise just staring at me, taunting. I'll tell you why. BARGAIN BINS. Oh yes. When you first walk into the store (which is fantastic because you don't even have to pass the "real stuff" to get to it) you can play in bin after bin of cheap and/or discounted items. We.have.a.blast. Now, do I really need a new oval-shaped-kitchen-scrubber-on-the-end-of-a-hollow-tube-so-you-can-fill-it-with- dishwashing-liquid? No. But, is it fun to pick it up and look at it any way because its $.50? Yes. The great thing about these bins is all the stuff they have for kids - which brings me back to bugs.

On our most recent outing to Target I was able to find some goodies in the bargain bin. I was thrilled beyond words to find a bug catching kit (complete with net and magnifying glass), a bag of plastic bugs, a giant "grow a bug" dragonfly, and a Sesame Street book about insects. Usually things in the bargain bins cost a buck, but today was my lucky day. All black dot items were 70% off and if you didn't already guess, my picks bore the chosen mark. Score. Bug items purchased and insect fascination nurtured, all for the bargain price of $.30. Day made.

In addition to reading my blog for funny MC quotes and mommy rants, I know you stop by hoping for pictures. Well, I'm guessing you do. When I read other people's blogs I secretly hope for pictures. We all know too many words is overwhelming and we need to throw a good picture in every now and then to make us feel like we are doing something fun. So, here ya go. Pics of the angel. (I figured since I've done all this talk about my bug lady I would post pics of her in her element - aka outdoors) Happy Friday!

My little diva

OBSESSED with caterpillars

Peek-a-boo!

Playing with the ant

Say What?!

Kid's Say the Darndest Things. Bill Cosby knew it. Now, I know it. I honestly don't know where she comes up with some of these things. Regardless, I'm glad she's a little nutty. How can you have a bad day when things like this come out of your child's mouth?

Bed-head beauty comes strutting into our room one morning. After saying good morning and saying she slept well, she climbs into our bed and looks at me square in the eye. She places her hands on the side of my face and says "Mommy, you've got to sit still and be quiet! When we go see Jesus no talking and be still!" Well, at least I know she's listening to SOME of the things I say. She was so prepared, I didn't have the heart to tell her it was Monday.

A few weeks ago I put MC down to change her poopy diaper. She looked at me and says (as matter-of-factly as if she's telling me the sky is blue) "Mommy, I've got a meatball." Of course I needed clarification for this seemingly random statement. Me - "What do you mean baby?" MC - "I got a meatball in my diaper momma." She has since taken to affectionately calling every "#2" by this name. If my child says she's got a meatball you better steer clear because it doesn't mean we're having spaghetti.

Walking to the park and we pass a man wearing a black doo-rag. MC gets EXTREMELY excited and starts pointing and says "Mommy, he's a pirate!!" Note to self - cut back on Jake and the Neverland Pirates....

Ah, if only I could carry a pen and paper around with me everywhere to record ALL of the craziness that comes out of that child's mouth. Love her.

How Do You Know?

I might have mentioned this in a previous post, but a couple of weeks before MC turned 2, I decided it was time to start potty training. She had given a few of the typical "cues" so I went with it. Being the overachieving person I am, I decided the best way to get her excited about this new venture was to have a "potty party". It.was.awesome. No lie. I was super excited when my little angel woke up and saw all of her potty surprises. Of course I had grand visions of this going off without a hitch - I planned a flippin' party for crying out loud. How could this not work?!

While MC had no fear of doing her business in the potty, she would never tell us when she needed to go - therefore, I was tossing pee pee panties into the wash all day. After FOUR DAYS of not leaving the house I was losing my mind and decided it was time to give it up. I was baffled as to why my brainiac child couldn't grasp this concept. I thought "Ok. She's not even two yet. We have time."

The last few weeks she has been giving me a some cues again and I decided maybe it was a good time to start things back up. She is out of school this week so it was really perfect timing. And this time I had M&M's. It was a sure thing. Again, I pulled out the cotton and plastic panties and we went on our way. Again, Mags had no issues doing her business in the potty. However, would still ALSO do her business in her panties. I looked at my baby who can count to 30, recite two different prayers, say the alphabet and each letter's sound, and do an entire 24 piece puzzle on her own with questioning eyes. (Ok, maybe it was more like frustrated eyes). I asked her why she still wanted to pee pee in her panties and her response was to look back at me and say "huh?". Oh boy.

That night after our first day of training I was a mess. I was SOOO stressed out. I kept asking Adam, "How do you know when to keep going and when to give it up? How do you know if they are READY??"

Apparently God decided to help me out a little. He was probably tired of all my complaining and wanted to give me a sign he was SURE I would understand....

The next morning when MC woke up I said "ok Mags, do you want to wear panties or a diaper?" She got all excited and said "panties!!!". Great. A step forward. I said, "well, that's great, but remember that if you want to wear big girl panties, you have to use the potty. Let's go try before we put them on." That was it. We had mass hysteria. That child flipped out like I told her there was no Santa or something. She was screaming and flailing all over the floor - "NOOOOO! No use the potty momma!!!!!!!! I don't want to go pee pee in the potty!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!" Alrighty then. Point taken. A simple "no thanks" would've sufficed.

That's how the cookie crumbles. For all of you moms wanting to jump on the potty training train, you might often ask "How do you know when its time?" or "How do you know when to stop?". I learned the easy way with a little help from The Man. If your kiddo turns into a hysterically screaming psycho child who you may or may not consider placing in a padded room, its probably not time.

Working on it

It was recently brought to my attention that I don't blog anymore. I'm aware. While the comment may or may not have come from my parents, I will accept it for what it is. A fervent plea for the reinstatement of my hilarious antics. I concede. You win Dorothy and Steve millions of die hard readers who are emailing me constantly.

I suppose a brief explanation for my absence is in order. So brief actually it can be summed up in two simple words - Maggie Claire. Oh yes. This sweet angel face has been holding every second of my attention and I couldn't be happier about it. Why? Well, besides the fact that I am coming to the realization my time staying at home will soon come to an end, this little diva is probably one of the funniest people I have ever met. (If you are a friend or acquaintance of mine please don't take offense to the fact that you have been "out-funnied" by a two year old. She really is that good.) I thought I might share a few of the one liners that keep me rolling on the floor daily:

I was reading one of her books to her when she started reading it herself (yes, she has it memorized) I took that as a cue for me to stop reading. Not the case. My diva stops mid sentence, looks straight at me and says "Mommy, I can't hear you..." in the most matter-of-fact voice I have ever heard.

Looking at the animals on her sippy cup MC says "Mommy what's that?" I thought she had just forgotten the name so I said "Well, that's a leopard". She turns to me and says "No mommy, that's not a leopard, that's a cheetah. Good try." Obviously had I known I was going to be given a pop quiz I would've studied.

Sometimes when MC is being stubborn and won't get out of the tub (even after the water has drained out) Adam will start annoying her by blowing on her so she'll get cold. Apparently this backfired tremendously. The other night I was doing dishes and hear "Daddy, blow me!" being yelled in the bathroom.

There are many others but, unfortunately, they have escaped me for the moment. I even have a book to write down funny things your child says - but can I ever remember to do it? Of course not. I don't give a flip if the child is two, I am still claiming baby brain. Most days I feel "on top of things" if I can remember what day of the week it is.

As I was saying before I got on my one liner tangent, I have just been plain busy. If I ever hear anyone say stay-at-home moms don't work I will punch them in the jugular. I'm not even kidding. Yes, working a full time job while raising a child is difficult. I've been there too. However, there's something about staying at home with a two year old all day that can occasionally make you want to murder someone.... usually your husband. This brings on a whole new set of problems, just so you know. Lucky for Adam he is gone most of the time. He only has to fear for his life on Wednesdays and Fridays.

I kid, I kid. Well, sort of. Adam IS gone a lot for school but I don't want to murder him. I'll keep him. He buys me wine sometimes.

Even though having a husband in grad school and staying home with a toddler is tough at times, I wouldn't have it any.other.way. I am truly blessed to have been able to stay home with my angel almost every day from the day she was born. I have been able to see and experience her entire life thus far. All of her "firsts", all of her sentences, all of her laughs, all of her boo-boo's. I get busy and neglect the blog but she'll go to college one day, right? Yeah, I should have some time then.