Sometimes, I’m a yelly parent, and while that’s always been the case on occasion, this has been happening more and more of late - Dictator does something that under normal circumstances, I’d respond to in a perfectly reasonable, here-are-the-consequences-for-your-actions way, but more recently have taken to just yelling, “No!” or “What are you doing??” or...
Axl Must Be Really Hard Up for Cash
Sitting outside Dictator’s “ballet” class and listening to the techno version of Sweet Child of Mine coming from the step aerobics class next door. My ears are bleeding.
michaeladaily replied to your photo: So this happened while I was in the bathroom. I’m actually really impressed, even I can’t do this. Only one of our cats is smart enough to run when Dictator’s around. This is not the smart one.
When A Girl Walks In With An Itty Bitty Waist And...
Dictator scooted behind me as I was getting up from the couch, which meant my butt was directly in her face for a second as I vacated my seat. “Hey! That a big bum!” Sometimes kids are really bad for your self-esteem.
Mama? Someone peed a little on the floor. Not me. Just someone. Just a little.– Dictator
mediocremommy asked: Tag, you're it! Here are the rules: Each tagged person must post ten things about themselves. You have to choose and tag ten people. Go to their blogs and tell them you tagged them. No tag backs. Enjoy!
You know that scene in the movies when someone wipes a drug addict’s powdered coke off the table, and the addict gets down on their hands and knees in a frantic effort to collect as much of it as possible? I watched Dictator do that tonight with flavoured sugar from her Easter stash. It wasn’t pretty.
I Think We're Missing the Point Here
My in-laws are visiting, and we’re a little more relaxed about a lot of things when they visit, including treats. However, when Dictator wandered into the kitchen this morning, face covered in Oreo crumbs, double-fisting the remnants at 8am, I wasn’t pleased. Me: Who gave her cookies at eight in the morning? Mother-in-law: [Father-in-law]! I told you it was too early for cookies....
Kid 1: “Dude! Mrs. V___ fixes her own car!” Kid 2: “That’s hot.” Several things here: These kids are about 12. I was only topping up my washer fluid. Why in God’s name are they calling me Mrs. anything?
momszilla replied to your post: Dear Garage Salers c’mon man I drove all the way from ohio for this. One woman told me she came from out of town, then stood on the porch just looking at me. I probably should have reimbursed her for mileage. At least I know my advertising works.
Dear Garage Salers
I know you were hoping for a day of deal-hunting, and perhaps your excitement has affected your ability to take notice of the obvious, but: a) It’s raining. b) There’s no crap on my lawn. c) The signs I said to look out for in my online ad (which was updated at 5am to say “cancelled”) are nowhere to be found because I did not put them out. Because it’s...
Waitress: How're the first few bites tasting?
Us: [general sounds of approval through mouths full of food]
Waitress: Is there anything else I can bring y'all right now?
Us: [general sounds of "no thanks" through mouths full of food]
Dictator: Yes, please. I have ice cream?
She's Got Me on a Technicality
Dictator doesn’t go to sleep as soon as we put her to bed. We’ve long since given up the battle to make her stay in her bed after we say goodnight, and as long as she stays in her room, she’s allowed to play in there (which we try to make very difficult by keeping almost nothing fun in there, but which she somehow manages anyway, because we can’t figure out how to turn off...
Me: Okay, it's time to wash your hair.
Dictator: [begins screaming as though the shampoo is burning her flesh.]
Me: Why are you screaming?
Dictator: [Pauses briefly.] You use the wrong shampoo!
Me: I'm using your special [no tears] shampoo.
Dictator: Oh. [Screaming ceases.]
Sometimes, Dictator uses tricks like this to try...
It was a rough day.
Multiple things caught up with me this afternoon, culminating in a full-out bawl all the way from work to the sitter’s. I got my shit together enough to not scare the sitter when I picked Dictator up, but then I yelled at the Dictator as we were getting in the car because she was being a three-year-old. Then I we both cried all the way from the sitter’s place to our house. So when...
Dictator: Making Feminists Proud Since 2008
Dictator: Mama, whatchoo doin'?
Me: Fixing the doorknob.
Dictator: Wif Daddy?
Me: No, with the screwdriver.
Dictator: And wif Daddy.
Me: No... Daddy's over there on the couch. I'm fixing the doorknob by myself.
Dictator: Oh. [Watches me replace the doorknob] Mama not fix the door. Daddy haffa fix the door.
Me: No, Mama's fixing the door. Look - Who has the screwdriver?
Me: And who just put the doorknob back on?
Me: So who fixed the door?
Dictator: Mama, you want some chocolate?
Me: Sure, bebe. Thank you!
Dictator: Daddy, you want some chocolate, too?
Husband: Thanks, sweetie.
Dictator: You have some... and you have some... Now I have some?
I gave myself hives over a work situation last week, and if they don’t stop itching, I may remove my scalp and the skin behind my ears entirely. That would look okay, right?
And you thought laser pointers were just for cats.
I Don't Even Know What to Title This
Dictator: Mama, watchoo rubbing?
Me: I'm making meatballs.
Dictator: Ohhhh! You rubbing the balls?
Me: I'm ROLLING the MEATballs.
Dictator: Oh. You like rubbing the balls? ...That looks yucky.