Motherhood

Mom, Are We Poor?

May 8, 2013 by Tara-YKIHAYHT 22 Comments

What. In. The. Hell. Not quite the question I expected to get from my eleven year old as I conducted my normal post school day interrogation Upon further questioning it came to light that a classmate had asked her if we were poor because she didn’t have any school pictures to bring home like some of the others. If there ever was a time in which I ever wanted to suggest to my child to tell someone to fuck off and mind their own business, this was it. Um…have you seen school pictures lately? Horrendous. Besides, the condition of my checkbook is no business of a fifth grader. Not even my own.

After drying her tears and reassuring her that we are in fact not poor, I felt it the opportune time to inform her that we are not what many would consider rich either. While we are not financially strapped and are able to provide our kids with the things that they need, it takes some planning on our part to be able to give them the things that they want. More importantly I wanted to stress to her that while we may not be monetarily rolling in the dough, we are rich in so many other ways. Ways that she may not understand at this exact moment. Ways that don’t agree with her “cater to me right now” mentality. Ways that maybe some of her friends don’t get to enjoy.

We live in a ninety-year-old house. Not just any old house mind you, Farmer Bob grew up in this house. While it doesn’t have sparkly new fixtures, cable TV and brand new carpet, it has things that are so much better. It has character and memories and an outhouse. We have a fort in the trees and hay in the barn to play hide and seek in. We have open space to play baseball in the yard and plenty of room to get away from each other if we need to. We have food on the table and clothes on our backs. We have fun together, we fight, we argue, we love. We are a family.

Being rich in the monetary sense would be fantastic don’t get me wrong. To not have to worry about how to cover this bill or that bill, to be able to give our kids a few of the things that are wanted whenever desired would be an amazing feeling. The question I have to keep asking myself is would I be willing to sacrifice so many wonderful moments in order to have the financial stability to satisfy what would undoubtedly become insatiable appetites for shit that serves no other purpose than to allow our family to slowly disintegrate into seven separate entities instead of one strong familial unit? The answer to that…HELL NO.

It is never easy to tell our kids no, you don’t need that. As parents we have this primordial desire to provide for them, to satisfy their every desire. We feel as if we are failing them if we can’t serve them everything that they want and need on a silver platter. Maybe we are actually failing them if we do throw all their earthly desires at their feet with no request for repayment. Are we raising a generation of entitled assholes? I hear how kids talk to their parents, my own included. I see the look of fear in a mother’s eyes of what might happen if she says no to that toy, my own included. It scares the shit out of me. Scares me that as parents we allow it. That it seems that we really are raising the kind of adults that we ourselves can’t stand to be around.

What scares me even more is the thought that these kids won’t grow up to appreciate the things that don’t cost a fortune. That they won’t understand that you don’t have to be rich in the financial sense to be rich in so many other ways. That family comes first and the rest of it is just “stuff”. That we have riches that far exceed anything that money can buy. That in fact, some of the best things in life truly are free and can’t be captured in some stupid school picture.

Filed Under: Children, Chores, Family, Gratitude, kids, Love, Motherhood, parenting, Uncategorized

I Swear if You Win This Crappy Prize You’ll Get to Just Pee Alone

May 3, 2013 by Tara-YKIHAYHT 64 Comments

Once upon a time there was a mother who appeared to have her life together. Her clothes were always clean, she had no need for , and her hair and makeup were perfection every time she left the house. She just knew that if she left the house not looking like then all the other moms in her circle would think she was a mess. She HAD to look like she had a damn clue. She HAD to appear to have it all together. What these “friends” didn’t know about this mother was that while she seemed to have it all together on the outside, on the inside she had so many secrets. Secrets that she felt she could never tell anyone because they would then think she was a craptastic wife/mother/woman.

She wanted to let her secrets out. She NEEDED to tell someone with the hopes she would discover she wasn’t alone. She wanted to announce to the world that she occasionally has sweet dreams about and that it is possible that she has a small fondness for . (Who does that? I mean Johnny Depp, really? Can’t she be original? Sheesh.) She wanted to get her friends drunk and swap stories about well endowed men and sex and vaginas and boobs. She wanted to help them to realize that talking about these things doesn’t make them shitty wives, they make them normal women with healthy libidos which in turn makes them BETTER wives.

She didn’t want to be judged for drinking too much in the morning, or too much at night, because damn it, those are the things that help her get through the day. Throw in an obscene amount of and at times it was the only way she could stop the one-way train to crazy town. She wanted to help her friends realize that it’s normal for their kids to drive them bat shit crazy from time to time and that it is more than acceptable to drink a glass a wine or eat half a package of chocolate if that is what helps bring the blood pressure down to a manageable level. She needed to know that she wasn’t alone in this and that the time for pretending that motherhood is full of rainbows and glitter has passed. It was time to cut the shit.

She was going to tell her friends that she didn’t have it all together. She wanted them to know that in reality all she really wanted to do was lock herself in the bathroom and scream !!!! She wanted to scream it from the fucking mountaintops that she was proud to be a curse word aficionado, and card-carrying member of the club. She wanted to admit that her life with her kids is nowhere near as perfect as she pretends it to be. She knew deep down that if people wanted to know about her life as a mother, she should probably just hand out copies of to all. She knew that these three books were her life in a mashed up nutshell and she hadn’t even had the time or the money to add them to her collection. She needed to get her hands on them. STAT.

So when this woman saw the opportunity from and to win an amazing Mother’s Day survival basket, she knew she had to enter for her chance to win copies of , , and . Throw in a $25 spa gift card, a DVD copy of , not to mention (chocolate) and (coffee and a mug) and she knew she had to enter. She just knew in her heart that she would win and once she did, she would no longer give a shit what her so-called “perfect” friends thought of her. She pictured herself telling all those Judgy McJudgerson bitches to take a long walk off a short pier, and then she would take her prize and retreat to her bedroom on Mother’s Day where she would lock the door and lay around drinking coffee while reading these amazing and hilarious books and shoving all the chocolate into her mouth.

It couldn’t be any easier to win. All a girl has to do is to leave a comment on this blog telling a secret that she keeps from her circle of friends. What does she secretly snack on while her kids are sleeping? Who did she dream about last night? What curse words does she use when she is home alone but would never say in front of another person? Does she dream of leaving the house with her hair in a messy bun and no make-up? Does she have a certain friend that she secretly can’t stand? It really doesn’t matter what it is, let it out here!

Recap: 1. Up for grabs, a kick ass prize pack containing a signed copy of I Just Want to Pee Alone, a signed copy of Moms Who Drink and Swear, a copy of Parenting, Illustrated With Crappy Pictures, plus a $25 spa gift card, chocolate, coffee and a mug, and a DVD.

2. Enter by a) leaving a comment on the blog telling us a racy secret and b) drop your info in the Rafflecopter. You can’t win if you don’t do both.

3. Check your email on 5/7 to see if you have won. Good luck to you all!

Entries will be accepted until Midnight CST on 5/6/2013. The winner will be contacted via email and if no response is given within 24 hours a new winner will be drawn! Good luck!!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Don’t want to wait? Click on the books below and order your copies RIGHT NOW. While you are at it be sure to order copies for your mother/mother-in-law/grandmother/aunts/neighbors/cousins/OB-GYN/worst enemy. They all MUST read all three of these books. You never know, it may just lighten them up just a little. Help them remove the stick. Laughter, it really is the best medicine.

Filed Under: Book, Friendship, Gifts, Giveaway, Humor, I Just Want to Pee Alone, Johnny Depp, Motherhood, The Underachievers Guide to Being a Domestic Goddess, YKIHAYHT

Have You Found All Your Pieces?

April 30, 2013 by Tara-YKIHAYHT 8 Comments

Lately life has felt like a puzzle. A puzzle right out of the box with pieces scattered, turned every which way, some upside down, some right side up. Some gathered in a pile, some flung across the table. It’s pure chaos. I’ve been trying to gather my pieces and reassemble myself into a beautiful picture but have been unsure about my ability to achieve such a lofty goal. It’s so hard to find the time to take a break, to leave everything behind and take some time to organize all the pieces. Taking time to find the misplaced pieces and to throw out the few pieces that don’t belong anymore. There comes a time when you must stop, look at the picture on the box, and take a good look at all the pieces to decide what needs to be done in order to put the puzzle back together.

I teach my kids to always do the edges first because they are the most vital part to the puzzle. They are the starting point. They give you the boundaries, and idea of how the rest of the puzzle will go together. If the edges are all screwed up, the rest of the puzzle is fucked. It’s unorganized and you are not even able to complete it. Farmer Bob, he’s my edges. I honestly can not do a damn thing without him. He’s not afraid to tell me when I’m being a total jackhole and he always gives me support and help when I need it. He keeps me grounded and helps me keep my pieces together.

It had been eleven years since we had gone anywhere alone. Eleven years. Think about that for a minute. It is redonkulous and embarrassing to even say out loud. Even though we see each other every day, it had been ELEVEN YEARS (have you picked up that it has been too damn long?) since we had taken the time to do something for just us. While we are confident that we have all of our edge pieces properly assembled, we realized that it had been entirely too long since we had taken the time to make damn sure that all the pieces are in the right place. This weekend we straightened our edges. Meals alone without stopping to take someone pee or to cut up someone’s steak, great times with some great friends, naps, a few drinks, and The Black Keys. Edge pieces….check.

Now it’s time to put together the rest of the puzzle. There are so many different pieces that all have to fit together just right in order to complete the picture. Some pieces have gotten lost along the way and the search is on in order to find them. Some pieces have been bent in half or become mangled and will have to be straightened out, or even glued together, in order to fit again. Some pieces are in the box but don’t fit in the puzzle and will need to be removed. Some pieces have been right there all this time, and even thought it was believed that they did not even fit into this puzzle, they may actually end up being the that one piece that has been missing the entire time. It is even possible to find some new pieces that you thought would never fit in your puzzle, but to your delight they fit just like they have been there from the beginning.

Take the time to look at your puzzle. Really look at all of the pieces. Spread them out, turn them over, sort them out, and really look at them. It isn’t an easy task that is for sure. There is nothing easy about searching for the lost pieces and it is hard as hell to throw out the pieces that don’t fit any longer, but taking the time to really look at them before putting them together is so enlightening and refreshing and at times frightening.

This weekend I finally took some time to examine my pieces. I turned them all right side up, found some pieces that were lost, decided that some pieces just don’t fit so they needed to be removed, and remembered exactly what the final picture is supposed to look like. While I still have some work to do before I have a puzzle worthy of some permanent glue, at least now I have the right pieces in my possession and judging by the picture on the box, I think the final product is going to be pretty fucking spectacular.

Filed Under: Famer Bob, Family, Friendship, Gratitude, Love, Marriage, Motherhood, Thankful, Vacation

Parenting Skills I Picked Up Playing Those Pesky Board Games

April 24, 2013 by Tara-YKIHAYHT 4 Comments

We play a ton of board games around here. “Mom, can you play a board game with me?” is one of the most popular questions around here. Sometimes it is the same game for a few days in a row and at times, with a little prodding, we can switch it up to something a little more exciting. As I was returning lost pieces to the game closet, I perused our selection of games and started thinking (which is always dangerous) about how playing these games as a kid myself unknowingly prepared me for parenthood. You with me so far? Here we go:

Guess Who: You know the crime, but who did it? Do they have blonde hair? Do they still poop their pants? Do they have a vagina or a penis? Can they read? Wipe their own butts? Speak in full sentences? Are they clothed? Do they have food in their hair?

Clue: Very similar to Guess Who with the added stress of discovering the crime and the weapon of choice. I suspect it was the five-year-old, in the living room, with the permanent marker. No? How about the eight-year-old, in the closet, with the scissors?

Chutes and Ladders: You bust your ass to get all the way up to the top only to slip-up and have to slide all the way back to the beginning. Relevant for things like potty training, eating with utensils, turning laundry right-side out, and of course proper table manners. Didn’t we just have the discussion last night about not farting at the table?

Memory: Who has practice tonight? Where is that concert? What cookies? How many kids do I have again? Where is my grocery list? Why did I walk into this room?

Operation: The one game you see as pointless until you need to remove that splinter or that bean from someone’s nose. How in the hell did you get rocks in your butt? Is that a Lego in your ear? If you don’t poop soon I’m going to have to help you out. I promise, this will only hurt for a second.

Monopoly: You bust your ass to save money and in the blink of an eye some asshole has taken it all. This game also taught us the fine art of patience because it. never. ends.

Perfection: Working under pressure seems to work pretty well until you run out of time and all hell breaks loose. You scream, you yell, you pee just a little.

Risk: Logistics. Trying to decide if you really want to head into the tween’s bedroom for a surprise cleaning? Do you have big enough balls to attempt to overtake the enemy that is the shithole they live in? Once you conquer one enemy you have to re-evaluate your troops (AKA, your caffeine intake) to see if you have the supplies to attempt an attack on the next. If you go in unprepared, make sure to have an ample supply of reinforcements for afterwards (AKA, wine).

Hungry Hungry Hippos: Quick, shove all the food in your mouth. Meal time really is a race to see who can get done first.

Mousetrap: Chase them around all day long, but you aren’t going to catch them unless you construct some high-falootin contraption…that works. All else fails, offer cheese.

Don’t Break the Ice: You can tiptoe around all day in an effort to keep everyone safe and happy, but one wrong move and you are screwed.

Battleship: You have to ask around in order to find that permission slip for the field trip or that one missing shoe. Where is the TV remote? I know I had that secret stash of chocolate somewhere. You never know where it is, but with the right questions and the use of the fine art of elimination, hopefully you can find what you were looking for.

Trivial Pursuit: You think you know everything that your kids are doing but in reality, you know JACK. SQUAT.

Who wants to play with me?

Are you in the Kansas City area? Clear your schedule for Saturday, April 27 and come join myself, Jen from People I Want to Punch in the Throat, and Stacey from Nurse Mommy Laughs for an I Just Want to Pee Alone book signing event from 10:00-12:00 at The Mommy Shop, 14870 Metcalf Ave, Overland Park, KS. There will be snacks and more importantly mimosas. We would love to see you there!

Mother’s Day is quickly approaching. You know what would make great gifts? These books right here. You need them. Your mom needs them. Your mother-in-law/aunt/grandmother/teacher/neighbor/best friend need them. You won’t be disappointed, I promise.

Filed Under: Children, Family, Humor, kids, Motherhood, parenting, Uncategorized

In the Blink of an Eye

April 16, 2013 by Tara-YKIHAYHT 13 Comments

In the blink of an eye you are no longer just a couple.

In the blink of an eye your life is no longer just about you.

In the blink of an eye you become a parent.

In the blink of an eye your munchkin is sitting up, feeding herself, interacting with you.

In the blink of an eye your baby is a walking, talking human.

In the blink of an eye you aren’t changing diapers and wiping little butts.

In the blink of an eye they can color inside the lines and write their own name.

In the blink of an eye they are getting their own cereal and pouring their own milk.

In the blink of an eye Chutes and Ladders is replaced by Monopoly.

In the blink of an eye they stop asking for apple juice and start asking for pop.

In the blink of an eye they no longer want to snuggle on the couch, but want to be left alone.

In the blink of an eye they are smarter than you.

In the blink of an eye your girls are fixing their own hair and asking for makeup.

In the blink of an eye your boys are talking about their balls and the smell of their farts.

In the blink of an eye your kids don’t need you to read them stories. They can do it on their own.

In the blink of an eye the boys don’t want to kiss their mother anymore.

In the blink of an eye your little girl is asking for bras and talking about her uterus. And boys.

In the blink of an eye the pants that fit them yesterday are two inches too short.

In the blink of an eye they can make their own decisions and learn from their mistakes.

In the blink of an eye you are no longer mommy and daddy. You are now just mom and dad.

In the blink of an eye they start Kindergarten. In the next blink, middle school. In the next…you are afraid to blink again.

In the blink of an eye you realize they are growing up and there is nothing you can do to stop it.

In the blink of an eye it could be gone.

What are you doing in-between blinks?

Follow my blog with Bloglovin

Filed Under: Boys, Children, Compassion, daughters, Family, Gratitude, kids, Love, Motherhood, parenting, Sons, Thankful

You Might Be a Parent IF…

April 11, 2013 by Tara-YKIHAYHT 19 Comments

The other day I lost it. Not in a I went bat-shit crazy kind of way, but in a this is so absurd I can’t help but laugh at myself kind of way. When we become parents we seem to make an instant transformation. Sort of like Superman in the phone booth; Average Joe going in, superhero when we come out. Only difference being that it seems that we never take off our capes. Bear with me as I delve into parenthood and some ways we seem to transform into real-life grown-ups, Jeff Foxworthy style.

You Might Be a Parent IF...

You might be a parent if….

You can brush your teeth and hold your 3 year olds wiener while he pees.

You can brown up some hamburger, fix someone a drink, and cut up some veggies all with a baby on your hip and a toddler or two flailing on the floor because you aren’t fast enough with the milk.

You can stop mid-bite to go wipe someone’s ass only to come right back and resume business as usual.

You can whip up six dozen cookies at the last-minute when your kid tells you they forgot that they needed to take snacks for the school program….which happens to be tomorrow.

You aren’t afraid to catch vomit in your bare hands.

You can lay down on the couch and still know exactly what your kids are doing. With your eyes closed.

You take your kids out to dinner and you spend more time in the bathroom than you do at your table.

You can answer all their questions with movie quotes. ”Mom, what’s cannibalism?” ”Mom, what’s a hazmat suit?”

You schedule all well child checks months in advance so that you are guaranteed an on-time appointment but you can’t remember to schedule your yearly hoo-ha check.

You can’t remember to take your grocery list when you go shopping but you know exactly where Sally’s red sparkly headband is that she wore three weeks ago.

You can play two different board games at the same time while catching up on your Words With Friends matches, and you manage to win them all.

Your most popular phrases are “get your finger out of your butt”, “we don’t eat boogers for lunch”, and “no, I don’t want to smell your fart”.

Your living room decor no longer consists of beer can pyramids and wine bottle trees. Instead you discover non-commissioned works of art using mediums that you are certain should be removed by men in hazmat suits.

You can change a diaper in the dark and not leave any residue behind.

You can tiptoe through a bedroom at three in the morning and not step on a single Lego, but attempt it in the daylight and you are damning them all to the depths of hell.

You aren’t against taking a glass of wine and your tablet or smart phone into the bathroom and locking the door, whether you have to poop or not, just for a few minutes of alone time.

You do laundry because hampers are full, not because you have a shirt that is dirty that you want to wear to the bar tonight.

Parenthood has changed me in ways that I never thought possible. While we may not be huge fans of some of the things we do now (I for one am not a lover of vomit), we wouldn’t change any of it. Except maybe the poo on the walls.

How have YOU changed, for the better, since becoming a parent?

If you aren’t reading these books, you aren’t the people I thought you were. Click on them. Order them. Put on a Poise. Read them. Laugh. I promise you will.

Filed Under: Boys, daughters, diapers, Family, Humor, I Just Want to Pee Alone, kids, Motherhood, parenting

Parenthood: It’s Nothing Like the Movies

April 3, 2013 by Tara-YKIHAYHT 6 Comments

Parenthood ain’t fancy and it ain’t a cake walk, I think we can all agree on that. ~~Most~~ All of the time I wish this shit was easier. Just like it appears in the movies. Why can’t it just be laid out for us, like in a script? Why does it have to be so HARD???

This got me to thinkin’ <danger, danger”=”"> I haven’t been on a movie set…YET; but I watch a lot of movies and read too many articles on the internet about movie stars (no one in particular) and sets, and all the goings on around them. So allow me to enlighten you just a bit. Go pop some popcorn (I can wait), sit back, relax, and let us look at how parenthood is absolutely nothing like the movies.

Don’t mind me, I just need a moment to pretend.

1. We have no script. Every good movie needs a script so that the actors know what happens next. Parenthood needs a script. Wouldn’t it be lovely to know when to expect that projectile vomit or to know that your kid will conveniently forget to do their homework? To know when your kid is gonna pee his pants at a party or have that meltdown in the store because she wants the pink one not the damn purple one. I know I would love to know ahead of time when I need to be prepared for that first kiss or that first heartbreak. To know exactly the way to handle the first time you catch your little angel in their first try at serious parental deception. Can someone please write me a script?

2. I don’t have a trailer outfitted with a salon where I get my hair and makeup done every morning while perusing an unlimited supply of amazing clothes. While I know I looked pretty incredible in Target the other in my ratty K-State sweatshirt circa 1997, thinning sweats, hair in a messy bun, and no makeup; it would be nice to occasionally have an unlimited/unstained/non-hole riddled wardrobe and someone to coordinate my hair and makeup to match. One could get used to a scalp massage every morning.

3. Having a body double on hand sure would be helpful for the old self-esteem. You ladies know what I mean. We all have that one special time of the month in which we feel slightly, what’s the word here….blergh. bloated. ick. Just imagine for a minute if you can, you and the Hubs snuggling in for some sexy time. You aren’t really feeling it thanks to the magic of PMS, so here comes the old body double. Magically you are toned, your boobs are where they are supposed to be, legs properly shaved, you look incredible. Or how about that time at the pool when you see “that mom” in her string bikini while you sit on the side of the pool in your swim skirt. Bring on the body double. BOOM. Problem solved, esteem restored.

4. Catering available 24/7, don’t mind if I do. Not cooking for a night or two (or ten) would sure be nice. To have it catered in instead of having to go pick it up? Fabuloso. Don’t see something that floats your boat? Order it, someone will go get it for you. I like to cook but this wouldn’t be all bad either. From what I understand it isn’t exactly dog fodder that they serve here.

5. Filming in a warm, tropical location? I think I could make that work. Spend a couple of months in Europe? Sounds so much more glamorous than my little farm in the middle of Kansas. Don’t get me wrong I LOVE country living and the freedom that comes with it, but a few weeks in an exotic location with other people keeping track of your schedule and making sure you get where you need to go when you need to get there…it truly does sound like a nice change to the monotony of wiping butts, keeping track of who has what practice when, who has a field trip this week, and what doctor we need to visit this month.

6. We don’t have a stunt person on hand to handle all those unexpected accidents. You dads consider the trauma you suffer when that bat swing goes awry or when the socks are a little too slippery on the wood floor and their heads are at just the right level. NUT PUNCH. Moms, how about when we try to reign in that temper tantrum and catch that elbow in the boob or that Lego to the face, not to mention the trauma that our bodies (vaginas) go through during pregnancy and childbirth. This parenting gig is vicious and we never take into account our own safety. Wouldn’t it be nice to have someone trained in this area to take one for the team?

7. I would love to be walking down the street and some kick ass song comes on just for me. Think John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever minus the white bell bottoms. Having an amazing soundtrack to play at just the right moment would be so freaking awesome.

8. We have no editor. No way to remove those moments where maybe we had too much to drink or told someone to take a long walk off a short pier. Someone to cut out that time we were caught dancing a la Elaine from Seinfeld. How about that party you attended only to go back and look at pictures and see that parsley on your teeth or that booger hanging from your nose. EDIT. Realized after the fact that you said something remarkably stupid to an acquaintance? EDIT. Want to forget that you ever met someone? EDIT. Want to remove that moment of mom guilt? EDIT.

9. Unless incredible set design means mismatched couches, toy tractors all over the living room, toothpaste in the bathroom sink, and Lalaloopsy all over the dining room table, I don’t think I’ll be winning any Academy awards in that department. On that rare occasion that I entertain (still waiting on you Johnny) having a set designer would be the bomb-diggety. Nope, I never have pee on my toilets or shredded kleenexes all over the living room floor.

10. We aren’t getting paid millions of dollars to do this. When I say millions of dollars, I mean that in the most literal sense of the word. Cold. Hard. Cash. Now if you consider being paid in temper tantrums, eye rolls, foot stomps and “BUT MOOOOOOOOOM” I’m a freaking millionaire. Throw in the hugs, kisses, and “I Wuv You Mama” and I have more “money” than I know what to do with. Maybe this parenting job isn’t so bad after all.

Not only do I have a book out, but some of my friends do as well. If you aren’t reading these books, you aren’t the people I thought you were. Click on them. Order them. Put on a Poise. Read them. Laugh. I promise you will.

Filed Under: Children, Family, Humor, I Just Want to Pee Alone, Johnny Depp, Motherhood, parenting

Cake in a Glass? Yes, PLEASE!

March 25, 2013 by Tara-YKIHAYHT 11 Comments

Girls night out. They don’t come very often, so when they do I like to make the most out of them. When my cousin, the Enabler, asked me to run away with her for an entire child-free evening for a visit to our Alma Mater I just had to make it happen. Childcare, check. Bags packed, check. Cash in hand, check. Legs shaved, oops.

We quickly forget how lovely it is to escape every once in a while. Eating a hot meal without having to cut up something for someone or stopping halfway through to take someone to the potty. To enjoy a nice summer beer while you properly chew your food instead of taking a bite and choking it down while you chase your three-year-old across the restaurant. To sit and enjoy adult conversation instead of taking half of your meal home to eat later because your kids can’t keep their hands off each other and they are crying because you flicked them all on the ear (I would never do that, but I’ve heard of it happening <ahem>).

To shop without chasing kids through the racks.

To go to a bar and enjoy a beer (or three).

Then you wake up and it hits you. Something big is coming up soon. It’s sneaking up on you like all your kids’ birthdays. You can’t quite put your finger on it. It’s a holiday you are pretty sure, but all the days run together so that is a total stab in the dark.

Thinking…..thinking……

Oh. Snap. Easter is coming. Soon. Ham, potatoes, all the fixin’s. Easter baskets. Candy. Peeps. Crap.

Are we required to make Easter crafts? Do we need cute little centerpieces and fancy place mats? What exactly should I be doing in preparation? Should I be baking cookies and planning out a fancy cake? What will we eat? What will we drink? Will the Easter Bunny bring good stuff for the kids’ baskets? Can I put out my own basket and he will fill it with special gifts just for me *wine/chocolates*?

I started thinking about my kids and what they always hope the Easter Bunny will bring them. The usual suspects; chocolate bunnies and Peeps. Toys and books. I am always un-prepared and usually over-purchase and we end up eating Peeps for weeks. Normally not a bad thing, but since I am trying to loosen my jeans instead of make them tighter, I needed to come up with a way to thin out the Peeps. My way.

I started doing some basic research. I was imperative to come up with something creative and after watching this video for Peeps, I started asking myself what is MY “Peepsonality”? Go ahead. Watch it. I can wait. WATCH IT. *taps toes*

I decided to take it to the next level and go to the Peeps website for ideas and had a hard time finding something to fit me. You all know me well enough by now. I don’t do crafts, kids with scissors and glue guns scare me. I bake, but my jeans advised me to pursue other options. What is something that I can do? Hmmmm…. Well, I do like to enjoy a nice drink at night. Maybe I’m on to something here. Sometimes it is wine, sometimes it is a beer, but for Easter I needed something good. Like a dessert in a glass.

I decided to take my idea to the bars while out with my girls. Would something light and fruity work? Nope. Something sweet and sugary? Nope. Something chocolaty and delicious? Ladies and gentlemen, we have a WINNER!!!!

I needed a professional’s assistance, so with a little help from our very young and charming with a stellar taste in music bartender Tony at Porter’s bar in Manhattan, Kansas (when I say young I really mean that even though Tony and I graduated from the same high school, it wasn’t in the same century young) we came up with the idea for this delightful beverage. There was some intensive research involved in this process both at the bar, and at home. I can only hope that you appreciate all the hard work I do for you all.

It took a few tries to get the right combination. Luckily Farmer Bob, the chocolate connoisseur, was available this weekend to be my official test taster. Some were too chocolaty (is that possible?). Some were too vanilla-y (is that a word?). After some trial and error, and a few shots just for good measure, we settled on this recipe. It really is like a slice of black forest cake in a glass:

Peeps

Peeps in the Forest

Equal parts UV Chocolate Cake and Cherry Vodka

Splash of UV Vanilla Vodka

Dr. Pepper to taste

Make sure to sugar your rim.

Dip Peep in chocolate and use as garnish and to nibble as you drink. It adds just the right amount of sweet!

Make sure to have a few extra chocolate covered Peeps on the side. I realized just one wasn’t enough.

Just be careful…this sucker will sneak up on you in a heartbeat. You’ve been warned. May it make your Easter dinner just a little less stressful. Enjoy.

*This post is sponsored by Peeps, but all the words and thoughts are products of my own brain.*

Filed Under: Famer Bob, Friendship, Humor, Motherhood, wine, Women, YKIHAYHT

Don’t Let the Guilt Get You

March 13, 2013 by Tara-YKIHAYHT 19 Comments

I screwed up. Not in a “I used salt instead of sugar in those cookies” kind of screwed up. More like a ”I now feel like a total asshole mother” kind of screwed up. It wasn’t over anything major, but to my fifth grade daughter it was kind of a big deal. Now I have this immense feeling of guilt. Mom guilt. Different from any other guilt you will ever feel and it sucks.

This isn’t the first time I have dropped the ball on something. I have forgotten to take someone to a birthday party, or missed that meeting about an activity. I have forgotten to call little Susie’s mom to see if Susie can come over for a sleepover. As parents we have unlimited opportunity for failure. Every second of every day presents us with an opportunity to fuck something up. There is no other job on the planet that you can enter into with absolutely no training whatsoever and then be left to deal with the pressure, the guilt, and the repercussions of not doing something right.

When I took that first job flipping hamburgers, I wasn’t allowed to start cooking the hamburgers right away. Hell no. I had to master the potato peeling and onion chopping first. I had to be able to make perfect patties and golden brown french fries before I could be trusted with the spatula and a hot grill. I received on the job training before being entrusted with the important tasks. There is no on the job training that comes along with parenthood. Sure, there are thousands of parenting books that you can peruse. There are millions upon millions of magazine and internet articles that you can sort through and read. Most likely you have friends or acquaintances that you can ask for advice. The thing is, your parenting skills will be completely different from everyone else’s. Don’t fall for the ideal of being the “perfect” parent. You are just setting yourself up for disappointment. You will be a GREAT parent, but there is no such thing as the “perfect” one.

At some point we have all royally screwed up something for our kids. Maybe we have that day that we didn’t make the time to play that board game. Maybe we forgot to write that letter of encouragement for them to read before their state assessment tests. Maybe we were taking a few seconds to read an email instead of watching them go down the slide. Maybe we were busy writing a piece for a book and didn’t spend the afternoon giving our kids scissors and glue guns. It doesn’t mean we love them any less or that we wish that they didn’t exist, it just means that we as parents are so consumed with trying to prove to everyone else that we can do everything when in reality we are drowning in our own sea of over scheduling and pressure to overachieve, present company included.

Am I a failure as a mother because my kids are currently parked in front of the television long enough for me to finish this post? No I’m not. Do I feel a slight twinge of guilt that I am doing that? Absolutely. Does it mean that I am lazy parent who only focuses on her needs instead of the needs of her children? No effing way. It means that I deserve to take some time for myself. To do the things that I enjoy and that make me a better mother. It means that I have things that I like to make time for besides wiping butts and playing Chutes and Ladders for the five millionth time. It means that in order for me to be the parent that I need to be I have to take the time to tend to myself, even if that means locking the door just so I can poop in peace.

If you can honestly look in the mirror and say to yourself that you don’t have needs. That you are the ideal parent. That your sole purpose in life is to be the beck and call girl for your kids. That you don’t ever make mistakes and suffer from mom guilt. You are full of shit. I mean, you have it oozing out of every orifice. Instead of filling yourself with these unrealistic expectations, why not tell yourself that it is OK that you forgot to make that phone call. That you aren’t ruining your kids if you let them have pop for lunch. That it is OK that you forgot to do something. That they won’t be traumatized for life if they have to go out into the backyard and play by themselves for fifteen minutes while you switch the laundry or eat that bag of M & M’s that you’ve been hiding in the cabinet.

We all make mistakes. We all have the guilt. We all have those days where we want to pack our bags and run away to the Bahamas with Johnny Depp. Well, I do at least. We can’t sit around criticizing each other and ourselves for the choices that we make for our own children. We can’t constantly attack each other because we do things differently. We can’t look in that proverbial mirror and beat ourselves up because we have those moments of doubt. Because we forgot something. Because we made a mistake. Because we just wanted to take a few minutes for ourselves. Guilt will eat you alive if you let it. We need to support each other despite our differences. We must have the belief in ourselves that we are doing something right. That we have one, or two, or five little people who think we are better than sliced bread. That these kids will turn out just fine. Have faith in YOURSELF. You’ve got this. WE’ve got this.

Faith

Have you bought the book yet? NO?? WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR???? Talk about a good way to remind yourself that we aren’t perfect. Go ahead and get a copy for yourself and feel free to get a copy for all of your mom friends too. You will laugh, you may cry from laughter, you will definitely no longer feel alone. All positive reviews will be sprinkled with glitter in celebration. Get all the details right HERE.

Filed Under: Children, Compassion, Family, Humor, Johnny Depp, kids, Love, Motherhood, opinions, parenting, self worth, Women

I’m Not a Medical Professional, but I Play One in This Post

March 4, 2013 by Tara-YKIHAYHT 11 Comments

Treadmill

Today I re-started my workout regimen. Never fear, it isn’t a hardcore heavy-duty workout that will take away from my precious writing time, but it’s a workout nonetheless. I have been on a hiatus and ever since that break started all I have done is watch my middle rise like a batch of yeasty bread. Since I am pretty sure it has risen until double in size, it is time to punch it back down, only this time I don’t plan on letting it rise again. It’s only flat-breads from here on out.

I have missed running. I never thought those words would come out of my mouth, but I miss the way it makes me feel afterwards. You know, having energy. Tight-ish abs. Less junk in my trunk. Less jiggle in the thighs. You get what I’m sayin’. I also miss those few minutes with just me and my music and my thoughts. Whatever I want to listen to without having to skip a few songs due to their explicit nature. Sorting out the various thoughts swimming about in my brain.

I think Mr. Nordic Track has forgiven me for taking such a long break from our relationship as he was remarkably kind to me this morning. Too bad the kids were not as supportive of my endeavor, attention seeking little animals that they are. As I was plugging along trying to ignore them, I came up with this list of suggested things to do before/during/after your workout. I can only hope that it helps at least one of you.

Before the workout begins:

Decide you are going to actually workout
Have another cup of coffee
Answer a couple of phone calls while catching up on Facebook
Have a bowl of cereal
Pee
Have another cup of coffee
Switch the laundry
Read a blog or two
Pee again
Put your workout clothes on
Ask three-year old if they have to pee before you get started
Pee again (next time consume less coffee)
Lock the fridge so that kids can’t sneak up and help themselves to a snack mid-workout
Answer another phone call
Pee again
Dig out treadmill from under pile of toys/clothes/junk
Try to remember how to turn on the treadmill

During the workout:

Make sure you turn on the treadmill. This is very helpful.
Make sure you set treadmill on the right speed. It is painful when you eat shit on a fast-moving belt.
Don’t forget to jump over the toys that the kids send down the belt. They like to test your cat-like reflexes.
Turn up your music. It drowns out the screams.
Remember that dance-walking burns more calories. This will also cause your children to shoot you odd looks and most likely cause uncontrollable laughter.
Don’t forget to stop the treadmill when you have to get off to take the three-year old pee because he didn’t go before you started like you asked him to.
Don’t forget to go pee when you take the toddler pee. Your pants will thank you later.
Smile and clap for the four-year-old’s musical performance, which thanks to the headphones you didn’t have to endure since it involved a tambourine, jingle bells, and maracas.
Don’t push yourself too hard, you will be required to move tomorrow. As in your body. Out of the bed.

After the workout:

Stretch. This will help the movement that will be required later in the day. While most likely this will be painful, especially to your psyche as you attempt to bend down and touch your toes and decide that your thighs are close enough.
Hydrate. Preferably with water, but depending on the time of day of your workout your beverage of choice is totally up to you.
Take tea-party breaks in-between stretches. This serves two purposes; 1. you interact with your kids that you have been ignoring for the last thirty minutes, and 2. it gives you extra time to get up from the previous stretch before moving on to the next one.
Give yourself a pat on the back for surviving another workout and try to fight the urge to stuff a couple of cookies in your pie-hole.

These are only some suggestions derived from my own personal experiences. I do not claim to be a medical professional and can only say that I cannot accept any responsibility for injuries that may occur if you choose not to take these suggestions to heart. I will also not accept any responsibility for any wet pants that occur due to either the ignoring of these suggestions, or from the laughter that you just enjoyed from reading this post. I have enough laundry, next time invest in some Poise.