What my kids say vs. What I hear

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1.       They say : “Mommy, when are you going to get dressed?”

I hear: “ You look old & tired. Put down that cup of coffee and get off the couch you lazy bum.”

2.       They say: “ Mom? Mom? Mom? Mommy? Mama? Mommmmmmmmm? Hey Mom? Mom? Mommy? Mommy??”

I hear:  Nails on a chalkboard.

3.       They say: “ No I want something else for dinner. Yuck!”

I hear:  “ Just because you watch Rachel Ray doesn’t mean you know how to cook. I can survive on bread alone (with butter).”

4.       They say:  “ Go away! I need privacy!”

I hear: “I am going to poop on the floor and make it look like an accident.”

5.       They say: “Puh-leeze! I just need some water before I go to sleep!”

I hear:   “ It’s so funny to see how easily you cry at 2am after I wet the bed.”

6.       They say: “One more book!”

I hear:  “ Don’t even kid yourself that I’m falling asleep anytime soon.”

7.       I say: “For the love, go play with your brother”

They say “ No Mommy, I want to stay here with youuuuuuuuu.”

I hear: “ I’m running an experiment to see how many times it takes to say the same thing over and over to you before you go nuts.”

8.      They say: “ Can I have more waffles? Can we go to Nanee’s? Can we watch some Kipper? Can you go get my baby doll stuff? Can we go outside? Can we go to the park?      Can we do a project? Can we fingerpaints? (all asked without breathing or pauses)

I hear: “ Can you do a headstand and sing the Star Spangled banner in Spanish while doing sign language with your feet?”


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I figured out what my word is. You know, like in Eat, Pray, Love when Liz realizes that “attriversiamo” is her “word” that describes her life?

Well, I found it. One of my favorite words that I used to study in my SAT prep class.

And it is… plethora.


plethora pronunciation /ˈplɛθərə/ dictionary_questionbutton_default.gif Show Spelled[pleth-er-uh] noun : excess, an overabundance.

I guess it sounds kind of like excess in a negative way, but I’ve always took it in a lighter way.

Let me explain:

I look around at the plethora of sopping wet cloth diapers that I have (next post!) and the plethora of nursing home stench that accompanies them.

My sink has a plethora of dirty dishes in them.

The laundry basket is bursting from the plethora of clothes I’ve stuffed into it.

can also be used as an adjective:
There are constantly a plethoric amount of alphabet magnets that somehow never stay on the refrigerator but instead inhabit my kitchen floor.

I have a plethoric craving for Oreos that cannot be tamed. We’ve tried.

or an adverb:

My children seem to poop plethorically when there are not enough clean diapers around. Why doth they torment me so?

My husband likes to pile his clothes plethorically on our reading chair. Which, in his mind, is our hamper.

It’s Medieval Latin from Greek word: plēthōrē [ fullness, from plēthein to grow full]

to which I felt completely spoke to me on many levels about pregnancy, love, life, diapers, nursing and eating Oreos.

It’s second definition was : an excess of any bodily fluid.

Maybe this is TMI but I definitely almost blew my first date with CG because I had to go so bad I nearly made him pull over on the bridge right outside the Fort Pitt Tunnels. Plus, did I mention diapers? This is most definitely something we deal with on a very regular basis.

So in short, this word seems to fit my life like a glove.

I like it though. I think I like the word. Even though I’m sick of writing it, I think I can say its our word.

Without a doubt we have a plethora of blessings in our life, laughter in plethoric quantities, and family & friends who give us cause to praise our God plethorically .

plethora pronuncia</noscript><span id=/ˈplɛθərə/ dictionary_questionbutton_default.gif Show Spelled

Second Time Around

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It’s kinda crazy, the way things are so different the second time around with kids. I can’t even believe how lax Camera Guy and I have gotten with things like baths, duration of wearing a soiled diaper, and matching socks. I mean, does that sound bad? I often wonder to myself if I am shorting Mr. Chubs on the baby-powdered perfectness of being a baby simply because I can’t keep up, or rather, simply because he was born second! You know what I’m talking about. I know you do. How everything is so clean, routined, simple, quiet, demure, and chill during round 1. You chuckle to yourself about how she gets "so messy" with her food, when "messy" is two rice crispies stuck to her chin. You hardly call the doctor because she’s just "so good" , never gets into anything. She gets fully bathed each night, complete with a blow dry and style. Bedtime routines happily take up to an hour of book reading, toe tickling and saying goodnight to everything in the house. Ah, then enters number 2 and your entire life gets flipped upside down. (I know all you Moms of 2 plus are laughing at me right now, but the abruptness of it all catches you off guard) Now, I mock my former self. Baths every night? Impossible. Have you seen two babies in the tub at the same time under the age of two? No way. Now baths are limited to a 3 step evaluation process: smell, sight and energy level. That would be, can I see food in your hair, can I smell food on you….and can I keep up with the both of you attempting to drown the other in water at the same time. I never saw myself like this! Oh the Mom-guilt! How can this be? We’ve left the house with no shoes on, eaten fast food on the way to the store, taken naps in the car, gone shopping without make up, we’ve let you stay up way past your bedtime, left you with a babysitter and actually said "It’s ok if she doesn’t go to sleep", (talk about desperate to go out!). I’ve put on Sesame Street so I could do laundry, cleaned faces by licking my finger and wiping the face, sometimes, when I can’t debate anymore what’s for dinner….I’ve let her eat cereal. We even did the seemingly impossible: stayed in a hotel room together, all of us, the baby too! (This, was the most unachievable scenario imaginable for us….we stupidly told each other, ‘They’ll wake each other up!’) Or the even more impossible: let them both nap in the same room. Or the even more "I will never be able to do that" : walking in and out of the room that they’re napping in! Or how about changing a diaper while nursing? That is, changing the diaper of the baby your nursing….in the middle of the night. How did this come to be that all those things we deemed impossible, ridiculous and avoidable the first time around….just aren’t? I know my mother in law, with her 10 kids, is finding this whole run around entirely humorous. All I can say is this: now I get it! And kudos to my mom-in-law, my mom, my grandmothers and all those women I know who have done it! Wow. It’s seriously the craziest thing ever! You really do have to just let go, and chalk it up to "well, I’m sure this has happened to someone…somewhere in the world before…" Eating bird poop? Rolling off the bed? ? Pooping on the dining room floor? Ah yes. Surely I’m not the only one…