I don’t know what you’re first words were, oh well!

Blasphemy! I know, I know! I am a terrible mother. I am not saying that for pity of martyrdom, but seriously, there are key childhood, key baby moments that I just do not have the answers to. But my dear penguin, before you take to the therapist couch just yet and carry all of my baggage with you ( Vera Bradley or Tumi please), please know I have very solid reasons for not knowing some of these answers.

Maybe it’s turning 40 this past year. Maybe it is because she just went to her first dance (daddy-daughter dance) and then I saw pictures of the eighth grade dance on social media and immediately thought “ahh, I can’t take it, that’s next. And then the prom”. Or maybe it’s the People magazine article I read on the opioid crisis among young adults and that sent me tumbling down another rabbit hole all together. But anyhow, I saw this beautiful advertisement on Zulily for one of the chalkboard milestone fill ins that are so popular these days and I started thinking, “I don’t know the answers to those questions “.

The parent fills in X for age, then other answers such as “I can ___”, “My favorite toy___”, and “My favorite foods___”. Oh my did I start feeling like a failure. I immediately asked Tommy for answers and went into a diatribe of “was she going to end up with an empty, or half filled baby book and just a box of keepsakes from her childhood like he has in a closet of his married home”!?!?!? Yes! I spin out easily and fast. Clearly these meds are not working. Which he did mention, have you started the new hormones? I digress.

Tommy , your daddy my dearest love penguin, says your first words were something of the “da-da-da-da” nature. Leaning towards “daddy”. I do not disagree. I am sure even at just a few months old you knew who would be the calmer of the two of us. Please know I have a good reason for not having these answers.

I truly do not remember exactly when you took your first steps. I was too busy trying to protect you from hurting yourself when you did.

I am not sure what you favorite foods were. I only wanted to feed you the healthiest and the best and whatever had the least like-ability you wouldn’t choke on it.

I do not think you had a favorite toy because I did not let you sleep with anything. I did not let you sleep without being held for the first two weeks of your life and then after that you slept without anything close to you, on a breathing monitor with a video monitor. I did this because I was scared of something happening while you slept.

So, no I don’t have all the answers from your baby days. I don’t know all of your first. There were days I was so anxiety ridden with something happening to you that those days led to sleepless nights. I’ve just tried to protect you since the day you were born. I don’t have the answers because I was too busy loving you.

*Disclaimer: I do not insinuate that parents who do know the answers love their children any less. This is my blog. My thoughts.

Bathroom stages according to the penguin

The Penguin and I were discussing a certain bathroom event and decided we needed to come up with a term we would both be comfortable using. I could have used the proper terminology, sure but, but that would lead to a whole other blog post. Agreeing on a number system, she then broke down the entire number codes for me.

#1-peeing

#2-poohing

#3-diary (diarrhea)

#4-throwing up

#5-diary (diarrhea) and throwing up

#6-peeing, diary, AND throwing up

There you have it peeps. The decoded bathroom numbers according to an eight year old.

#parenting, #motherhood, #reallife, #thebelleandthepenguin, #pottyhumor

Just a thought

 A friend of mine recently shared a blog post from Scissortail Silk titled “Only Good Mommies”. It touched on a subject that I talk about ALL the time amongst my friends and it sort of goes back to one of my earlier blog post, “Being a Woman is Hard Enough“.

I am genuinely overwhelmed by the number of mothers who put on such a show that their mothering skills are above the rest. Maybe they are? Maybe, even as a a southern belle I missed the mark on raising children and these Stepford Wives, as I like to call them, have it all figured out. Seriously? Just because you have four perfectly coiffed children and I’m over here with one child with a tu-tu and rain boots does not make you THE Expert on motherhood.

This is one of those women things that deserves more honesty. Being a mother is hard work. Getting out of the house in one piece with children is an Olympic sport. I’m tired of the mothers who act as if it’s no big deal. Admit you just gave your kid those Oreos instead of the organic apples you want us all to believe. These are the same mothers that leave the house without one ounce of formula or spit up on them or a cheesy finger print. I call BS!! Impossible!! Now, they may care more than I do and turned around and changed, but then how are they always on time? I convinced this is close to the moonwalk conspiracy as far as motherhood is concerned.

Give it up already. Looking that put together all the time with all of those children is not easy. Just be honest. It’s hard work and it’s not for all mothers. But just because I choose not to doesn’t make me any less of a mother. I focus on the here and now. The “hold me” moments that I will not get back instead of mascara. The “mommy chase me” instead of the platforms. That’s what I choose. Just to be a mom. Not a put together one at all. A frenzied, on the verge of a breakdown at any moment, REAL mom.