Mom With A Pen » All riled up!

Nudist Colony

Maniacal Mommy — Mon, 30 Jan 2012 20:05:19 +0000

Toddlers are so entertaining! JD has reached a milestone with his speech, meaning I can understand more of what he says and not just intuitively know what he wants. He has started interacting with the tv, which I find hilarious. I was washing dishes when I heard Mickey Mouse ask “would you like to come inside my clubhouse?” JD says “no!” He will guess the Mouse-ka-tool though, and I am continually impressed with how bright he is. Okay, until he pulls the little step stool up to the counter and pries the lid off the cookie jar. Then his ingenuity is a tad aggravating.

Just Another Day…

Mom With A Pen — Sat, 17 Dec 2011 03:58:55 +0000

It’s not a secret. Sometimes marriage sucks. Men and women just don’t think alike. Maybe that’s why John Gray has made millions. How can you love somebody and yet detest them with every fiber of your being. How does that happen when 15 years ago you couldn’t wait to spend an evening hanging out with them?

Crossing the Line

Mom With A Pen — Tue, 13 Dec 2011 04:19:34 +0000

There’s a line that every woman crosses at one point or another. And, not in the right way. Is there a right way to cross a line? Only if you’re running a marathon. And, even then, you shouldn’t be scowling and giving people dirty looks. Just sayin’.

Protected: Suitable Bribes

Maniacal Mommy — Tue, 22 Nov 2011 23:18:47 +0000

There is no excerpt because this is a protected post.

The Toilet Seat

Maniacal Mommy — Mon, 17 Oct 2011 18:52:07 +0000

We recently replaced our toilet seat. There wasn’t much wrong with the old one, to be honest. It was sturdy. It did the job required of it.

Except for one thing: the hinges. Oh dear God, the hinges. There were metal screws holding the hinges together. It got to the point where I didn’t know what was rusty water and what was, well, pee. Or a combination of the two. Being the only woman in the house, I knew the aim problem was not mine. JD still uses a potty shaped like a frog. So somehow, these screws and pieces were getting damp and nasty.

Eventful Sporting

Maniacal Mommy — Fri, 09 Sep 2011 00:53:14 +0000

I really do not like to leave the house in the evening, particularly when it is just the kids and me. Even if we managed to have a dinner where everything went rather well, and only a small portion of food landed on the floor, that in no way means venturing out into the world is a good idea.

Honey or Vinegar?

Maniacal Mommy — Mon, 15 Aug 2011 22:27:31 +0000

Call me crazy (most do I suspect) but I end up talking to the nicest people on the phone. Even when I was in college, I had a very long conversation with a woman trying to get me to switch phone companies. I was dodging an English assignment, and she was dodging cold calling more people. We ended up talking for nearly an hour about everything BUT the best long distance carrier.

The Hungry Game

Maniacal Mommy — Sat, 13 Aug 2011 20:32:47 +0000

There should be a support group for mothers of picky eaters. Heck, maybe there is. They probably meet at a fast food joint with a play area and bemoan how their child will eat that processed dreck and turn up their nose at food that actually contains something besides fat and sodium. I just avoid those play areas because it means my kids will ooze green mucus for six weeks straight.

Company Clean

Maniacal Mommy — Mon, 02 May 2011 20:14:20 +0000

There are several levels of clean to be achieved. They all seem to depend on exactly who is walking through your door. Immediate family? Not a problem. People who have small children and understand your plight, therefore won’t pull out white gloves? Again, not so bad. However, there is a fine line between “company we don’t see that often” and “Child Protective Services” clean. Really, there is nothing like having certain folks come across the threshold that makes all the clutter and grime just jump in your face and scream SLACKER! Never you mind it was all livable and quite honestly, invisible to your eyes, until they showed up.

Terribly Wrong

Maniacal Mommy — Wed, 20 Apr 2011 00:07:19 +0000

The witching hours are fraught with peril, are they not? I used to laugh when I would see the phrase “witching hour”. Singular? Seriously? The period from after school until bedtime had the potential to turn me into the parental equivalent of Jack Torrance in The Shining: feeling trapped and more than a little crazy.