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Sometimes it’s OK to cut corners.
Other times it is not.
I certainly will never win mom-of-the-year awards. Especially not now after coming clean on the following:
* Tonight’s dinner consisted of whatever we could scrape together from all the leftovers in the fridge. We’re trying really hard to save some money (with both of us being journalists, the paycheck is certainly not something we take for granted lately) and not throw out too much food. Tonight I heated up some questionable chicken for myself and some leftover taco meat and fixins for the kids. I took about four bites of the chicken and had to throw it away. I hate to admit that it was a nasty color. I am almost gagging thinking about it right now. So the kids got two tacos each. Neither of them (Little Man ate his own stuff … a whole other story) ate all their food. So when they were done, I swear I scraped their plates into a bowl and smashed the taco shells (which had become soggy) and put a ton of shredded cheese on top and ate it as a taco salad. Complete with my sons’ teeth marks in the shells. Mmmm. (not.)
* About a month ago we got really lazy and/or forgot to buy diapers. Little Man was down to his last one. I did not realize this. I changed him for bed and immediately called to tell the hubby to buy new diapers on his way home. About an hour later, Little Man started SCREAMING from his room. I went in, and he pointed to his behind and said “pee-pee.” (Which is how he tells us he pooped.) I about fell over. The little stinker pooped in his diaper during bedtime. HE NEVER DOES THAT. Here I was. It’s about midnight. I’m exhausted. Irritated. So I throw out the dirty diaper and …
I GOT INTO THE TRASH to pull out the least offensive dirty diaper I could find.
I grabbed the pee diaper I took off him at bedtime, slapped it back on him and called it a night.
I know. I’m definitely the mother of the year, right? I’ll accept any awards you want to send my way. Including LOSER MOMMY.





Our boys this week. Happy for spring, for sure.
The following is a real conversation held in the car today between Big Bro, who is 8, and Middle Man, who is 6.
Big Bro: “Katherine told me she is going to invite me and James and Aiden to her birthday party.”
Middle Man: “Where’s the party going to be?”
BB: “At her house. She said we are the only boys invited. She said that while the girls are in one room, the boys will watch movies with her brother upstairs. She said we’ll watch Twilight.”
MM: “What’s that?”
BB: “A vampire movie. I think it’s rated PG-13.”
MM: “Cool.”
BB: ” And I think I know why she invited me.”
MM: “Why? Because she thinks you’re hot?”
BB: “Because she loves me and James. She’s just friends with Aiden. Really good friends.”
Note to self: Your 6-year-old just said a girl thinks your 8-year-old is HOT. Your children are acting like teens. It’s time to intervene. Lock them in their room. FORCE them to play with squeaky toys and building blocks. No, not LEGOS. The big, chunky ones. DO NOT LET THEM OUT OF THEIR ROOM. Otherwise, they’ll grow up. If you have to put on Barney, do it. It’s time to pull out all the stops. This could get out of hand.
(I think it already has. My 6-year-old also said “Psyche!” to me the other day, and the 8-year-old told my husband something sucks yesterday. We are in so much trouble … Next thing you know we’ll be pushing them out the door on their way to prom and then to college. Argh. He’s right. This DOES suck.)
March for Babies was a fun-but-sweaty day of laughs, tears, and friendships made. Thanks to everyone who made it possible, and everyone who donated to the cause!












