So I made a post last year with this exact title. Turns out, I still kinda suck as a mom a year later. Here’s the thing. Pretty sure we’re all gonna have sucky mom (and dads!) moments until our kids are adults. So this weeks edition of “I suck as a mom” is brought to you by yours truly.
1). I was at west ed on Monday, she didn’t wanna be in her stroller. So I let her walk beside me, but then she only wanted to be carried. So I carried her. Only to have her puke all over me and the mall floor. Right smack in front of abercrombie and fitch, you know… where all the teeny boppers go and are really mature. Shout out to the dude who made a huge dramatic face and covered his nose with his shirt. Bro, be happy you’re not the one with barf down your boobs and on your crotch (my daughter is talented in getting it in the best places). Joke was on him… he was wearing a Crooks and Castles shirt with a diamond stud I’m pretty sure he stole form his little sisters earring collection from Claire’s. I’ll take barf on me any day if my option were a). barf or b). his outfit.
2). Olive refused to eat the whole week.
3). On Wednesday I decided to have my monthly shower. I usually just let her in the bathroom with me. But today I didn’t wanna have a toilet brush, toilet plunger, toilet paper roll, or whatever else she finds thrown in the shower with me. All of these items have been thrown in with me in the past. So I closed all the doors to the rooms and let her roam the living room and hallway, free as a bird. I shower for literally 3 mins, and wrap my towel around me. *side note* Dane used my towel the night before because he’s constantly leaving his in our bedroom, so I yelled for him to bring me a new towel. He brings me the towel that I bought because it was “cute” and had tassels and pretty embroidery on it. It barely goes around me. So here I am in this barely there towel and I come out and start looking for Olive troll. I don’t see her. So I go into the bedroom. She’s not there. I come out to the living room. She’s not there. But the front door is wide open. I’m brown, I have the all year round tan going on…. but I’m pretty sure I looked like a white chick in that moment. I run out into the street (in my barely there towel) screaming her name over and over again. I can’t see her anywhere. I realize the gate to the backyard is swinging because it was raining and super windy that day, so I run back there somewhat relieved because she’s at least not on the street. But she’s not there either. So now I’m running back into the house to call 911. I can’t find my phone because that’s what happens in situations where you desperately need your phone. I start screaming her name again inside and I hear “mama, mama, mama?” I run to the pantry/laundry room and swing open the door. She’s not there. I’m just kidding, she’s there. She’s trying to get to her fruit snacks, and decided the best way to do so without getting caught is to close the door behind her. I grab her and my knees kinda buckle and I just hug her. I keep telling her she scared me, and that I’m sorry, and she just looks at me and points to her fruit snacks. I get it kid, I like them too.
4). Because she’s barely eating, and she clearly likes fruit snacks, I decide I’m gonna make some. You know, the healthy kind. So I scour Pinterest looking for recipes until I settle on one. Its got spinach, strawberries, no sugar, blah blah, healthy, you get it. I make a huge batch and wait for the pectin to do it’s thang and set into delicious healthy fruit snacks. My fruit snacks don’t really set and look like whale blubber. Dane pointed to it and went “Sooooo……. not really hey?” No. No Dane, not really. Not at all. I put them in baggies and he thinks they’ll be good in smoothies. That’s his way of saying “I saw all the organic crap you put in there,you’re not allowed to throw that out.” We’ll see how many smoothie get made.
5). Here’s the real doozy. I had to go back to west ed on Friday (it’s a long story. Ok wait, it’s actually not that long. I like shopping). So I had to go back. And that morning Olive cried for 3 hours straight and would not let me put her down. I thought she was just being whiny and I was getting super impatient with her. So at the mall I did what I had come to do, and on our way out, Afton and me just happened to sneak into Anthropologie for a quick gander. Afton was in line paying and Olive was getting fussy in her stroller, so I took out fruit snacks (not the whale blubber ones), and offered her one. She shook her head and said ” no!” and stared at me. It was in that moment white, chunky, smelly lava exploded for her mouth. Like SO much. And it wouldn’t stop coming out. I just stared at her in shock for a few seconds, and then I calmly went up to Afton and told her I’d meet her in the bathroom. She took one look at Olive and her eyes went all wide eyed and her mouth just made a huge “O.” I walked calmly to the bathroom, people giving sympathetic looks the whole way. I just smiled and gave “haha, just a bit sick… I’m fine, I’m fine, really! I’ve got it all under control” look. As soon as I got to the baby change area of the bathroom I may have freaked out a bit in my head. Taking of her barf soaked shirt was fun, when I pulled it over her head it got on her face, her neck, her hair. Her pants are covered, the stroller is covered. She managed to get it inside her shoes. It’s basically cottage cheese that reeks and is EVERYWHERE. Afton comes in and is slightly looking like she might also puke, but she runs off to winners and buys a towel, baby soap and wash cloths. So Olive had a bath at the west ed bathroom. In the sink.
6). We go straight to the walk in clinic and she gets seen right away. She has a fever of 39.4 and they tell me she has a chest infection. They prescribe her antibiotics and send us on our way. I give her the antibiotics against my better judgement (I’m the granola mom that doesn’t immunize her kid and isn’t fond of antibiotics. You can judge me and send me hate mail, all good!) After her second dose of antibiotics, my kid is COVERED in hives. Face, arms, legs…. covered. And I’m pissed. So turns out my kid is allergic to penicillin. I’m pissed because I didn’t feel comfortable when the doctor was rushed in seeing us because the clinic closed 15 mins after we got there. I’m pissed because she barley checked her and then said “I’m gonna say it’s a chest infection, but I can’t be sure. If she gets worse take her to emergency.” I’m pissed because I should have known better than to go against my judgement. I’m pissed because my baby has huge welts covering most of her body even as I write this.
Ok. Before I get death threats, calm your self. I 100% believe in doctors, and I am grateful beyond words for them (Uhhh… have you not read my post “The C- word?”) Will I take my Olive to the doctor? Yep. When needed ( I took her this morning to our family doctor!) Do I go to the doctor? VERY rarely, but yes. I go. My mom works for the health care system, trust me…. I’m not against them. Will I immunize Olive? As of right now, my answer is a strong no. Have I researched as to why I don’t want to? Yes. Do I judge people who immunize their kids and themselves? Strong no. Will I ever change my mind on immunization? Possibly! Like I said, I’m not against the medical system, doctors, nurses, antibiotics, none of it. I just have my OWN opinions as to when they are needed for MY child and myself. This post isn’t about immunizations, our health care system, doctors. It’s not about antibiotics, or political views, religious views, or whether you think unicorns are real or not. This post (and this blog for that matter) is about me being a sucky mom that is learning to have grace with herself, patience with her daughter, love and even more patience with her husband (he drives me bonkers), and maybe a good recipe or two. Or maybe even a good hair day, or if I find an outfit that doesn’t make me feel like a baby whale, I’ll post about that too. Stranger things have happened you know.
The moral of this story, post, whatever you wanna call it is this. DO NOT BUY THE CUTE TOWELS. Buy the big Bertha (I was gonna wrote big, juicy Donna ones but then I got worried Donna is too much of a common name) towels. You know, the ones that wrap around your ENTIRE body. Also, if you have any good fruit gummy recipes that don’t turn out like whale blubber, please share.
One of the images you are about to see contains graphic content and may not be suitable for wusses, or for people who probably don’t have kids.
Picture 1). Olive snuck and got her gummies and has a mouth full. Picture 2). My “fruit gummies.” More like fruit fail. Picture 3). No explanation necessary.