3 unabashedly/borderline horrible confessions of a slackaholic mom


Sometimes* I sleep in.** And by sleeping in, I mean lie-in-the-bed-til-eight-o’-clock-while- I-let-Jamin-handle-Aiden-and-Emerson-sleeping-in. Pause: Before the angry mobs of early rising moms everywhere start in on me, it’s a given that I’ve earned it, and this WILL NOT last forever…So side with me, please. I think a lot of it has to do with the newborn. {He has a name, but sometimes I prefer to call him “that kid” or “your other son”. Yesterday, when leaving the house and nearly forgetting him in the hustle of it all he was “oops.”} Sometimes I’m not really asleep, but I feign it anyway, by lying there. I literally milk it for all it’s worth. Sometimes I don’t want to get up and face the day of screaming children and piles of laundry. Sometimes I have to give myself a small pep talk, and inhale the coffee floating in from the next room so I can heave myself off the mattress and into the kitchen via my body that is suddenly laced with lead. Jamin says I must produce too much of that sleep hormone. I think when my head hits the mattress, I automatically fall into a heavy work induced COMA from the day’s activities.

 So, major confession no. 1: I have a really hard time waking in the mornings after nights of nursing Malone. It’s the loss of consistent sleep that seems to systematically wear me down over time. I claim anemia. I usually crawl out of bed and mope into the living room just in time to see Jamin off to work, or get the kids dressed for Preschool. I come out of the back room while the other two children sit staring at me expectantly in their little chairs, and I feel that familiar pang of motherly guilt. I’m sure to bring up the breastfeeding part. It’s my automatic line of defense strategy, stated like I’m a true patron saint of all things sacrificed for the greater good. I’m all groggy, rubbing my eyes, and I look at Jamin who smirks at me knowingly from the couch. “I was feeding Malone. Gosh he eats aaalllll the time.” I then strike a martyred pose like pulling my chest in with my arms…as if recovering from a long night of motherly duty with achy woman parts, when we both know I’m full of it. I thought it was an unspoken given that Jamin was willingly going along with my fabulous self produced shenanigans, when he actually called me out the other morning. I wandered out of the bedroom after one of my usual stints, immediately launching into my patron saint of breast milk martyrdom act: “Malone sure was eating. Sorry.” Jamin responded oh so curtly: “You know, MOMMY, it doesn’t count as nursing, if you’re passed out with sagalicious woman goodies (that’s my choice of words-he used the word “boob”) in the bed beside the baby. He needs to actually be ‘attached’ for it to count.”

Apparently we can’t both be passed out, drooling on the sheets. Discovered by the hubs. Cover blown. Who knew.

*Read: almost every morning.

**Jamin is probably reading this, and I must dutifully remind him that I do make a point to have the children bathed every night before he gets home from work to make up for such negligence on my part in the morning…I’m working on it, OKAY???


I took Malone to the ped the other day to see our doc. He was having sinus issues, and I was starting to worry about his somewhat hacking cough. (double ear infection=not fun but I’ll take that any day over RSV or Pneumonia…So maybe add two points for my preventative actions, after deducting five in judgmental mommy land for this whopper of a story…) Ours (our ped) was booked, so we settled for another NUD. (But he’s probably my favorite nud.) {Sense of humor=absolutely required.} While we were there, I asked him to take a look at Malone’s circumcision.

Confession no. 2: I don’t know how to care for a penis. You think I’d be a pro by now, after succeeding in pure luck with Aiden, (read: I haven’t KILLED him yet and it hasn’t FALLEN OFF) but apparently Malone’s circumcision has re-adhered on one side. Stellar. I don’t know how. I feel like a complete failure for letting it grow back. I can’t even remember when his next wellness appointment is. Much less bring myself to say the word “penis” without slightly cringing or giggling. You should see my face as I type this. So we’ll chuck this up to epic mommy failure 554: I can’t care for it if I can’t say it. I’d much rather say “wiener.” Or “pee pee maker.” But then what does that teach my children other than incorrect reference to the usage of a kidney? To be embarrassed about their little man parts. I stink at this.

Anyway, I  had been dutifully cleaning IT, and one day I was all, “Ew. It’s stuck.” (this is the summary of my thought process. I’m not a total idiot, but I was stressed, to say the least, and thus the asking of the doctor regarding the little man parts ensued) I’m so not tugging on that. And I didn’t force it because stuff like that gives me the hibby jibbies since I don’t exactly HAVE one of my own.

The NUD continued to explain that the rest of “it” had been stuck, too. Proceeding with a simple “He’s not going to like this,” NUD pulled down on his skin. ALL. THE. WAY. AROUND. Poor Malone. I had no clue. He started screaming immediately, as did I with an “OH MY GOSH” I thought I was going to pass out. Tears were streaming down both our faces. There was scar tissue, and I’ll stop there, but I thought I’d nearly killed the poor child. After I recovered, the nud kindly explained to me that the scar tissue has a special name (and then I suppressed laughter because I’m secretly fifteen) and I won’t type it because I’ll probably get some weird google hits and this entry is already borderline getting me into trouble with the higher authorities. (My mom)

Anyway, I totally lose points in the penile knowledge department for my sons.


Because I like to include things in odd numbers…

It was Thursday night. I had bathed the children (as I dutifully stated above) before Jamin was home. After they were all fresh and jammied up, Aiden stated that he wanted to hide from Daddy before he came home. I’m all up for some hiding games…I used to encourage it when he was younger and on my nerves …so I told him that sounded like a great idea. What can I say? Hiding from other people like a four year old is great fun! Especially if you jump out and cause people to wet their pants in the process. I don’t get out much.

Anyway, he and Emerson climbed in the closet, the door cracked with the light on. I finished bathing and dressing Malone, and progressed into the living room to feed him. (poor neglected baby no. 3 with his neglected penile area had been screaming.) I sat down and after a few moments of actual quiet from Malone, began to notice a lot of unnecessary muffled vocal octaves, coming from the other side of our living room wall from the exact local of my closet. It had been a long day, and their voices weren’t distressed in any way. I just assumed Emerson was aggravating Aiden, so I kept feeding my poor (re-circumcized) youngest, assuming they would work it out. (I’m SO TIRED OF PLAYING REF)  Ignore was the order of the day. They have toys in there so I figured they’d survive. But they kept screaming. And I was settled on the couch, tired of getting up with Malone attached while I break up the latest drama from the two older spazoids. I think the noise lasted a good ten minutes before I gave up, sat Malone down, readjusted, and headed to the closet.

When I entered, both children were in hysterics. Apparently I couldn’t hear the urgency through the wall, but they had managed to lock themselves in the dog crate. They had been trapped, calling for me to come and get them, the panic building as they screamed for a rescue. All the while I, thoroughly exhausted and annoyed, ignored them from the other side of the wall. Yeah. Never done that one before. Before you call DHR, an immediate rescue ensued, while I made amends with hugs, kisses, and fresh chocolate chip cookies. I was completely shocked that they were even stuck…filling in the rest with “you might be a redneck if…your children lock themselves in the dog crate.” I guess the worst that could happen to them is a brief panic session and extreme inhalation of dog hair, but it made me feel pretty bad nonetheless.

So, the next time you feel like a bad mom, come back to this jewel of an honest entry. From topless sleep-ins, to poorly cared for private parts, and near entrapment via the dog crate…I think it’s pretty clear I win MOTY. Right here. Woot.

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16 Responses to 3 unabashedly/borderline horrible confessions of a slackaholic mom

  1. Amye says:

    I am laughing so hard right now! Thanks for making my day!

  2. Laura says:

    I don’t even know what to say. That was just plain funny. I think I burst out laughing when you said they locked themselves in the dog crate.

  3. kate says:

    1. I am way, way, way on your side.

    2. Um, ouch.

    3. Head over to my blog for something just for you. (But, uh, give me a minute to get it ready.)

  4. Jamey says:

    I too laughed out loud when I got to the dog crate part! Mainly because I’ve been there. Done that. Not so much with a dog crate, but with the ignoring, hoping they will settle it themselves, only to find they really do need help! So funny! And they are all still alive, right?! Right.

  5. Dana says:

    Bless your heart! I think you should take the extra sleep whenever you can get. Hey you can even lock the kids in dog crates if you need to :) Oh and the penis thing.. that’s not the first time I’ve heard that story. How are we supposed to know how to take care of them?

    PS: I cringed a little while typing penis too.

  6. chesley says:

    i laughed out loud at number 3…and it made me secretly wish i had a dog crate :)!!

    we experienced the adhesion, but got no warning from our ped when she ripped it back – ouch!! penile care is not something i wish to do again.

  7. Kimberly says:

    I have h ad experience with the re-adhesion as well. No one told me before I left the hospital to pull back the skin at every diaper change. Henry is three and we stil have issues with it sometimes.

  8. Stefanie says:

    I love it!!! Now I know I am not the only mom with three kids that feels bad at times. Sometimes I feel like not getting out of bed either. Just think with time supposedly it gets better, or that is what I keep telling myself.

  9. Sunny says:

    I have been spoiled rotten by Jason. While pregnant with Jack, Jason would let me "sleep in" a little bit and I just never really let go of that privilege. Well, until I went back to work. :)

    Ouch! I can only imagine!

    #3 is hilarious! I have left the kids before because I was really tired of the fighting, only to find, that they actually needed me.

    As always, I LOVED reading your blog!!!

  10. Hannah says:

    #1 I sleep until 8:00 a.m.every single day. I put my kids down at an insanely late hour to ensure the continuation of this privilege.

    #2 Okay now I feel really bad. EXACT same thing happened with Wesley (and I mean EXACT… our lives are eerily parallel sometimes. Went to the ped, not our doctor, she started tearing on him without warning me, screaming ensued, I burst into tears… only after making my child BLEED and scream for his life, not-our-doctor announced, "Oh, I can’t get this. I’ll have to refer you to a urologist." I’ll try to spare you the details, but the following months involved consultations in Tampa and finally surgery with the gown and the anesthesia and the whole sha-bang. The only thing funny about that whole experience was when I couldn’t keep a straight face as the surgeon (urologist whose entire JOB is penises so he probably doesn’t find saying the word awkward or funny) kept congratulating us on the "excellent cosmetic result" of our son’s penis, assuring us that Wesley will be "very happy with it" some day. He threw in phrases like excellent penile length in his report of what a good looking schmeckel our son has. Seriously had to fight the giggles. But back to my main point… I am a worse pee-pee-caregiver than you!

    #3 Okay, I got nuth’n. My kids have never locked themselves in a doggie crate. Touche.

  11. supa says:

    Hannah. I just clapped my hands and laughed out loud. I would have DIED. Yes, apparently Malone will be going back in a few years for a cosmetic redo, as one side is completely stuck. But the doc said not to worry about it for now because he doesn’t use it for anything but peepeeing. THAT gave me the hibbie jibbies. I think I visually cringed when he said that. I will forever have issues with things regarding the future reproductive nature of my sons. ECH. They will always be babies in my eyes. Now that I’ve experienced that, I’m surprised my MIL even has me over sometimes…much less associates with me as her DIL. ;)

  12. April says:

    Austin’s is kinda like that a litte on one side! The last time I took him to the doc….which I WILL NOT go to again. I’ll stick with the others….they said that it should "Unstick" on it’s own. And if it doesn’t, then later they will fix it?!?! Later?? hmmmm. I don’t know. I’ll have the regular doc look at it at his 1 yr checkup. haha.

  13. Hannah says:

    I KNOW… I got the giggles during the post-op consultation, but during initial consultations with the urologist I fought the urge to put my fingers in my ears and yell, "LA-LA-LA-LA-LA-LA-LA!" He pretty much said that as a baby it’s merely a cosmetic issue and that it would only NEED to be fixed when he gets old enough to have erections, as that could cause tearing. Do NOT want to think about my sweet little baby having an erection!! Glad we did the correction while Wes was young though. It really wasn’t that bad. They always take patients back to surgery by age, the youngest ones going first (since they don’t understand why they can’t eat or drink before surgery, they take them the earliest). I was so nervous about not being able to feed Wesley or even give him a drink when he woke up, but he did fine. We were home by that afternoon and the recovery was quick. I’d definitely recommend having the surgery to any mom whose kid has even a partially stuck penis. Just try not to laugh every time the urologist says penis!

    Oh, and here’s a link to the blog post I did of Wesley’s surgery… it was like my 2nd month of blogging and I didn’t even own a digital camera yet, so the pics are scanned and horrible quality. But you can get an idea of what to expect:

    You’ve made me feel SO much better! Glad to know I’m in good company with my pee-pee care failings!

  14. Holly says:

    Girl, don’t feel bad for any of these… you read my blog so you know mine is completely dedicated to making supa moms like you feel better about yourselves! :-) At least they locked themselves in a crate in your own house… not in a hot shed at the city park… in the middle of summer… with kids who aren’t yours…. and the police had to come…. yeah, it could have been THAT bad, so don’t knock yourself! You’re a great momma!

  15. Jillina says:

    Oh my friend it’s no wonder we don’t get to have the lesiure phone conversations we had back in the days of one child each. Who has time with all these kiddos? But I do miss you. BTW – totally with you on not being a morning mommy, I figure my extra night fun more than makes up for that.

  16. Dallas says:

    Um, hilarious. And I am right there with you. Here is the link to this years picture…http://henderson-happenings.blogspot.com/2009/11/fourth-annual-torture-fest.html. It DOES NOT disappoint!