It's that time of year again, mamas. Time to revamp your kid's wardrobe, fill out a novella of forms and buy a bunker's worth of supplies based off of a list crafted by someone who clearly believes that if you don't comply with her need for 18 glue sticks, non-spiral-bound notebooks, and a clean sock, her cat will die. That's right, it's back-to-school time! For some mothers, this is a rejuvenating experience that empowers them to flex their sick organizational skills and inspires them to bake, label, coordinate and rhyme. However, for the true MOTY, and especially the working-mama type like myself who doesn't even get the respite of the suddenly empty house, back-to-school goes down a little more like this:
By Annie It's that time of year again, mamas. Time to revamp your kid's wardrobe, fill out a novella of forms and buy a bunker's worth of supplies based off of a list crafted by someone who clearly believes that if you don't comply with her need for 18 glue sticks, non-spiral-bound notebooks, and a clean sock, her cat will die. That's right, it's back-to-school time! For some mothers, this is a rejuvenating experience that empowers them to flex their sick organizational skills and inspires them to bake, label, coordinate and rhyme. However, for the true MOTY, and especially the working-mama type like myself who doesn't even get the respite of the suddenly empty house, back-to-school goes down a little more like this:
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By Layah Have you been thinking of spicing up your love by enjoying a night out with your partner...dressed as a sexy stranger? What better way to rekindle the flame than an evening of espionage role play? Before you order any expensive get-up, mamas, think long and hard about what items you already have in your house and how you are using them. For example, I already own a sexy wig. Check out me and my hot hubbie, pre-kids: Now, I still have that same wig, but, sadly, this is what it looks like now: It doesn't matter if you're thinking about a wig, a thong, a corset, a garter, anything. Nothing is safe. Kids hijack your body, mind, money, panties, wigs and most definitely your spontaneous sex life.
"Sometimes when my kid is being a brat, I get through it by finishing sentences in my head. Like, when she shrieks about her brother messing with her crap, I say, 'Yes, it is very frustrating." Then I think, "...to be your mother.'"
By Layah It's 9:30 a.m. I have been up for just over two hours. So far, I have cleaned two rank poopy diapers, vacuumed the kitchen floor, scrubbed marker off of our windows and a wooden table, dealt with the epic temper tantrum of an irrational OCD 3-year-old, a subsequent time out, three comfort cuddles, tears and more tears. I've cleaned a full cup of OJ off of our door, floor and rug, cleaned additional spilled juice off of the kitchen table and floor, done two loads of laundry, fed five dependents, hand washed dirty dishes and run another load through the dishwasher. All this while being incessantly interrupted, infinitely distracted, and using mostly one arm. Oh, and I also ordered a couple of Hanukkah gifts. Because I'm on top of shit.
Now, I would eat my breakfast, but my three nuggets have already claimed it as their own. By Mandy Your guess is as good as mine! Sofia is meditating, and I need to be respectful of that and not disturb her focus with sudden movements or involuntary retching noises. Plus, you know, I have my feet up, and she's entertaining herself, and it's almost bedtime, and...
By Annie As a full-time working mama of three with an hour commute, I hold my 10 measly vacation days, greedily, close to my heart. Coming off of last year, when I used my vacation time to pad my maternity, er, short-term disability leave (seriously, America, get it together), I deliberated extra hard this year on how to use my time. I ended up taking a random Friday and saving a day for my son's first day of preschool and few more for the holiday season. But, this week, this glorious week, was to be mine all mine. From 5:30 p.m. on Friday until 8:30 a.m. two Mondays later, I was to be a free, relaxed and slightly tanner version of me. If I had my way, I'd be cooling myself in a Dominican waterfall in no time. But, seriously, I was looking forward to a week away with my family at Lake Erie. Sun, sand, carbs, Nutella. It was a modest vacation, but it was mine, and I was ready. Of course, the morning we were set to leave... I kicked off my vacation with a trip to the emergency room and a searing, watery corneal abrasion. All thanks to my 15-month-old and her tiny, ragged fingernail. (MOTY Tip: Trim your kids' nails. Turns out, it's worth it.) Luckily, the doctor gave me some numbing eye drops, and I was back in vacation mode in no time. Don't feel bad for me. Sure, the first three days of my vacation were tainted by the obnoxious sensation that I had a shard of glass the size of a paperclip in my eye and one half of my nose was in constant drip mode. And, yes, I was under doctor's orders not to read, drive or have excessive screen time (all restrictions that would have had me signed out of work were I not, you know, on vacation). Don't feel bad at all. The ordeal was quick, and I was relaxing in no time.
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We love our kids. They drive us crazy. We write about it instead of going insane. Archives
September 2017
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