MILF’s Laws of Life

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MILF’s Laws of Life, similar to Newton’s laws of physics; except not really… Because I’m not a genius physicist nor is any of this factual. MILF’s Laws of Life also known as MILF’s LOL is what makes my life so humorous, delightful and my favorite phrase to describe anything gone wrong ‘a joke’.

 

MILF’s LOL:

  1. If there is a holiday or major event in the near future, one of your children will get sick with some sort of illness.
  2. If you have an important phone call, your children will wait until the exact second you begin talking to commence a screaming fit.
  3. If you are running late and must do your make up in the car, your significant other will jam on the brakes, hit every pot hole and for some unknown reason drive like an asshole.
  4. If you have plans to go out and actually have a sitter, your children will stay up extra late; even hours past bedtime. Damn you toddler 6th sense.
  5. Well check ups apparently don’t mean anything because a week later you will be there with the same child who went to the doctors office for a well visit with some sort of new illness.
  6. If other children are around, your chances of lice quadruple (that’s really not a fact, don’t quote me on it)
  7. You may have the most well behaved child there is, but as soon as someone you know is around; whom you secretly think want to ignore, your child will act reckless even throw in some new swear words you never even knew they were aware about.
  8. The day you run out of your house real quick and ‘forget’ the convientently already packed diaper bag, there will be a massive diarrhea explosion.
  9. If your child talks, farts can no longer be blamed on child… Child will snitch… Very loud and very proud.
  10. Wearing a new article of clothing is always risky, you never know when your child’s projectile vomit will occur or when a plate of food will be thrown at you.
  11. Having your nails long and perfectly done while you are still changing shitty diapers is a waste of time; There will be shit underneath them, don’t act like that’s not true.
  12. If you are wearing white your child will want spaghetti or pizza for dinner.
  13. New jeans? No problem. Play doh will destroy them.
  14. Your child will always want the toys that need batteries and the batteries will never come with the toys.
  15. If a grandparent is around, your child will misbehave and once crying commences all blame will be put on you.
  16. When a a new pair of shoes is bought, a growth spurt will occur.
  17. Once you reach your goal weight; you will get pregnant again. (That’s why I like to keep a little extra meat on me; that’s what I like to keep telling myself)
  18. Once one child gets anything contagious, the whole house is done for.
  19. If you are a parent you will cry… A lot.

So, these may not all pertain to you but I know for sure you’re shaking your head relating to most. 

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Pinterest, it’s a hell of a drug

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Although, all 8 of you who read this are probably well aware of what ‘Pinterest’ is; I will still gladly define it in some lay men terms. Basically, Pinterest is the place where your dreams go to die. I’d be under estimating if I even attempted to give a number to the amount of hours I have spent on Pinterest, eagerly pinning away my future, my wedding, my closet, my diet plan, my excercise regime and even sometimes an uplifting friend with it’s humor category. It’s a sick addiction. The kids go to bed; 9pm you open up your Pinterest app…2am you frantically close it in hopes you can squeeze a few hours in before the kids wake up. Now, I say this is a place where dreams go to die because in the end all you are doing is creating virtual boards of your dreams that most likely are never bought, made or done. I have an entire Pinterest board on ‘crepes’, I’ve eaten a crepe once in my life and I don’t even own a crepe machine. I have over 35 pins of crepe recipes on this board in hopes and dreams that I will one day become a crepe connoisseur. However, there are very rare times (most likely after wine) where I have attempted a few diy projects that I had previously pinned. These projects have either failed miserably, MISERABLY or have been actually pretty successful. Once the high of succeeding in a Pinterest project ensued, I had to keep going.

I came across Pinterest a few years ago when I was pregnant with my first child and that’s I think when the addiction really began to takeover. I’d spend countless nights searching and pinning, searching and pinning, the perfect nursery, the perfect outfits and of course the perfect meals. While home alone I decided to recreate one of those infamous Pinterest cake mugs. Because, 9 months pregnant, 10 o’clock at night why the fuck would I not want a cake made in a microwave, IN A MUG. This was my first true taste of Pinterest failure. To put the predictable story short, there was an explosion, the fire alarm went off and a new microwave was purchased the following day. My next true Pinterest failure was that time I thought I was a fashion designer, boycotted all stores for 7 hours and took up making all of my kids clothes. My first attempt was a beanie hat for my son. In the midst of the project I thought I was doing a damn good job; the final product was a lop sided square beanie that had a  circumference of a Pomeranian’s head. Much to my surprise, I decided to try again; this time a pair of leopard print leggings for my daughter. My first mistake was that I never thoroughly read the entirety of the article that I had pinned. Ya know,I skimmed through it, got the gist of it and jumped right in. Apparently I missed that day in elementary school when they taught you to always read the full instructions first because I bought fabric that is used for a couch. Used the rough, tough barely bendable fabric anyways. Not only was one leg the size of a newborn and the other leg equivalent to that of a preschooler but I made the middle stitch crooked which made it look like my toddlers crotch was a leopard printed Harry potters forehead. Yes, I was well aware of all of the leggings defects, yes I still tried them on my daughter to get a selfie of our matching leopard leggings. Selfie never happened… Obvious reasons.

Naturally, after the legging fiasco I was a little more precise with my search engine wording and clarified ‘easy diy legging tutorial.’ Who would have thought, but I actually got a legit pin, that I used, that worked. I wish I could remember who it was that wrote the article to shout them out, but whoever you are .. You the real MVP.

Finally, I MADE WEARABLE CLOTHES. I did it. And then I did it again. And then I moved onto other things like scarves, skirts and dresses. I was addicted. I couldn’t stop. I was pinning through out the whole day, instead of just at night. If my phone died I would pin on someone else’s phone. My phone was gorilla glued to my hands. All I could think about all day was pinning and then doing that pin. I regretted all those pins I never saved and all those pins I never did.

Then the unthinkable happened. My dad took away my data. (Yeah, fuck off I’m still on my dads phone plan, half you fellow millennials chances are, most likely are too.) It was like the Pinterest intervention I knew I needed. Now I could only pin on wifi. 85% of the time the wifi would give out or an asshole establishment wouldn’t give out their wifi passwords. I couldn’t pin as often and without the motivation of brand new pins I wasn’t even physically accomplishing any pins. Finally, I was able to slowly stop. And now I’m down to pinning only about twice a day.

The moral of the story is too much of something is always a bad thing.

 

Raising a Threenager

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If Webster’s dictionary was written by moms, the word Threenager would come right after Teedler (teenager who is throwing a temper tantrum like a toddler). Threenager is the definition of my second-child, an overly rambunctious toddler who has the snarky attitude of a teenager but the temperment of a 2 year old who doesn’t want to leave the park.  Threenager; you detest them like a moody teenager in the midst of puberty but love them like the cuddly, sweet, SLEEPING baby that they are. A Threenager ambitiously says NO (even if the answer is yes), is incredibly moody (like Mother Nature when the weather is 90 degrees Wednesday and 33 degrees Thursday), the word share is not in their vocabulary; everything is MINE, MINE, MINE, throwing a fit about the clothes they wear and insisting on underwear OVER the pants and 2 different shoes. As a self-proclaimed fashionista the last part especially makes me cringe. 

A threenager is especially hard to manage when they have an older sibling who is the complete opposite. My son who is older; is sweet, sympathetic, empathetic, kind and gentle; he’s what I would call prelderly ( preschooler with an old soul). The fights that commence amongst the two polar opposites are like Ronda Rousey And the Dalai Lamai in a boxing match. My daughter dominates. It’s not the my son doesn’t want to fight her it’s just that he’s such a sweet soul, fighting his little sister isn’t in his agenda. The less he reacts; the more feisty she gets, kind of like a teenage girl trying to get the attention of a boy that is ignoring her. My Threenager is in the beginning stages of formulating sentences, she’s getting pretty good at it and quite honestly I am scared for what may come out of her mouth next.

Daily Life of Living with a Threenager:

  1. Threenager must always be right. Dora the infamous explorer asked a yes or no question (forgive me for not remembering the exact question, I tend to tune her bullshit out) my daughter screamed out “no” to Dora. Dora responded that the answer was “yes”. Threenager becomes infuriated and begins shouting “NO DORA NOOOOOO DORA NO”. My Threenager stood in front of a television arguing with it. You get the gist so far of what I’m working with.
  2. Threenager and Prelderly have their own play table with chairs, perfect size for the little minions. Threenager is told that she cannot have anymore chocolate. Threenager becomes enraged and throws said play table and chairs across the room.  “Although she be but little; she is fierce.”
  3. Prelderly is sitting on the couch, playing on his iPad, minding his own business. Threenager assaults innocent prelderly by taking a chunk of skin out of prelderly’s arm with a solid shark bite.
  4. Threenager asks question, right after question nods head and says “yes,yes”; e.g “I play with mommy’s computer? Yes,yes” “no you can’t” “yes,yes” with sly smile still pasted on her face.
  5. Threenager steals mommy’s make-up, lotion and jewelry. Said items are never to be seen again.
  6. Threenager purchases ‘mature’ content on the television. Naturally was the last person blamed.
  7. While waiting to get ready for a formal wedding, Threenager decides she doesn’t like her dress and dumps it in the toilet.
  8. Prelderly will be crying, Threenager will mock the crying sounds and faces.
  9. Threenager insists on eating only salad and chocolate. (I really couldn’t make this stuff up) Literally just like a teenage girl.
  10. Threenager LOVES to sleep. Cranky is an understatement when threenager’s beauty rest has been interrupted.

My Threenager may be giving me a major run for my money, but I wouldn’t want it any other way. At least she can defend herself, knows what she wants and won’t take no for an answer. After all, she is her mother’s daughter.

Every Parent’s Guilty Pleasure

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As much as we all claim to be the utmost perfect parents…let’s be real; we’re not. We all make mistakes and sometimes these “mistakes” are perhaps at times done purposely; e.g “throwing away the pack of playdoh your kid has been getting all.over.the.fucking.place by ‘mistake’.” Another example , “I’m so sorry I passed toys r us, it was a mistake!” Yeah, do you think I wanted to stop in fucking toys r us with my 2 cranky, whiny, sleepy toddlers. No, the answer is no. Along with these “mistakes”, I know I am not the only one who has parental guilty pleasures. And NO it’s not what you think it is, perverts.

MY (even though I know all of you have these too) PARENTAL GUILTY PLEASURES:

  1. I am a pretty petite woman I would say… even though you’ll hear me say 8 thousand times that “i’m fat.” Anyways, I have a serious guilty pleasure of ‘mistakenly’ putting on my almost 4 year old’s t-shirts and pairing them with high waisted pants. I have been told it does not look good, I beg to differ.
  2. I ate all of my kid’s Halloween candy.
  3. When a toy is really pissing me off, I take the batteries out and tell my kids that it is broken.
  4. Stealing my sons nike socks because they are extra comfortable.
  5. Eating ice-cream after my kids to sleep and telling them the ice-cream in the fridge is medicine.
  6. I don’t let my kids drink soda, but I drink captain morgan with ginger ale and rum and coke.
  7. Watching my kids defend themselves somewhere; even if it includes pushing.
  8. Telling my kids I have to get Swiper out of the bathroom, in order for me to have some peace.

OK so my guilty pleasures don’t make me a completely awful person, but they sure do feel good. And you know what they say, if it feels good, you’re most likely doing something bad. Yeah, I’m pretty sure I just made that up.

Every Parent’s Worst Night Nightmare: Toys

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With Halloween coming up, it is only relevant to discuss a horror movie’s best character: toys. Toys, toy commercials, toys that need batteries, toys that disappoint your kids because they are nothing like what they saw on T.V, toys that come alive in the night, toys with songs that get stuck in your head and ruin your day; fucking toys. 

I know I am not the only parent who fears toys. Ever since I was a little girl I had a severe fear of porcelain dolls. My mothers favorite Christmas present to me was antique porcelain dolls… She particularly enjoyed decorating my room with said, diablo antique porcelain dolls. Perhaps I can blame my mother for my irrational fear of toys coming alive, or maybe I should just go right after Pixar for causing a little girl to have nightmares of an animated movie. Now that I am a parent, my fear of toys has become a little more rational. *CUES PHANTOM OF THE OPERA MUSIC* The price of toys… The price of batteries .. An American Girl doll is $199, WHY!! An American Girl dolls non working hair dryer is $35.. That’s more than a working hair dryer. How about playdoh. Fuck the creator of play doh. He was not a genius! He is a homewrecker of carpet floors and expensive jeans.

Here is a quickly compiled list of (in my opinion) the worst toys that parents hate and children love:

1)As stated previously, playdoh. The texture, the smell, the carpet ruiner… Everything about playdoh is awful.

2) Bubbles. Okay, yeah yeah… It was a proud parent moment watching my infant react to bubbles for the first time, but has anybody ever had a toddler try and blow bubbles over and over again and have it drip all over their neck, clothes, hands and hair? And the smell of bubbles is nauseating.

3) Legos. Stepping on one with bare feet. Enough said.

4) Toys that are nothing like what they show on t.v. The past 3 toys my children wanted have been toys they saw on a commercial on T.V. A Peppa Pig house that to my 2 toddlers made it seems like the characters move themselves. But to much disappointment they found out the hard they had to move the characters themselves and use their imagination.  A Paw Patrol launch, that on the commerical appeared so much bigger and a Thomas Train Set that you need to buy batteries for.. For every single part of it. Eventually, their imagination came into play and they played with the toys maybe once or twice. Thanks asshole marketers, marketing their target audience to toddlers who can’t comprehend no.

5) Stuffed animals. Or dust collectors. Might as well use the stuffed bear as a Swiffer  Not to mention, it freaks me out when my kids start talking to them.

6) Dolls that come with clothes that don’t come off. Do you know how mad a 2 year old girl gets when she can’t take off her dolls clothes. Sure, it’s convienent for me, I don’t have to buy doll clothes… But for the toddler who is freaking out because the doll won’t take her clothes off to take a bath ,it is very infuriating.

7) Battery operated toys. Battery operated toys made the ‘oh so thought out list’ for a variety reasons. One, they never come with the batteries and if they do, they run out in 12 minutes because every person that walked by the toy in the store played with it. Batteries are fucking expensive. And the scariest of all.. Out of no where, these demon possessed battery operated toys just turn on and start talking… Particularly when you have taken the batteries out. One specific toy my children have is a turtle that you can bounce on. It uses batteries to sing and talk. A few weeks ago my husband took the batteries out, the fucking turtle starts singing when no one is near him and worst … In the middle of the night. I feel like I am living in a scene from paranormal activity.

Toys may act as a teacher and help your child learn, act as a babysitter by keeping the child occupied but toys aren’t anything unless your child has you to play with them. ✌🏽<3

The Adventures of MILF & DILF

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Being a young, unprepared, surprised parent is exhilirating and it will make you feel every emotion possible, even emotions you didn’t think existed. Having my first child was a roller coaster ride; 21 hours of labor to only end in a c-section, then the climax, meeting my baby, going downhill- post partum hormones going crazy feeling good; nurses take care of baby, any question I have I just ask the nurse, the nurse bathes the baby, the nurse changes the babies diaper, the nurse changes my diaper, breakfast in bed, flat screen tv… And my co-creator next to me. It was good, really really good.

Then the hospital sends you home. And all hell breaks lose.

When my first child was born, I had absolutely no idea what I was doing. I could barely prepare my registry, my teenage cousin at the time had to help me. I mean naturally, all I could think about was Old Country Buffet; a pregnant woman’s paradise. Anyways, thank God for my mom and people around me because me and co-creator were like rich sheltered teenage girls getting stuck in the ghetto. Neither of us had a clue. Not to mention, post partum made me so anxious the top of my hair started to turn grey (I was 21).

Through the journey of parenthood my husband and I have been through the craziest of situations plus the craziest of reactions. Here is a compiled list of some of the adventures of MILF & DILF.

  1. When my baby was a few hours old the baby sneezed, I cried  I had an anxiety attack thinking the baby was sick. *for those that don’t know: sneezing is very normal for newborn babies to clear out their noses*
  2. For the first 7 weeks of my child’s life I slept with my hand on the baby’s chest to make sure the baby was breathing.
  3. For the first few months I called the pediatrician’s office 4 times a week, left messages with the off hours message relay lady, emailed pictures to the office and have shown up without an appointment. The entire office thinks I’m a maniac.
  4. For the first few weeks, anybody that wanted to hold my baby had to wash their hands and wear medical cover ups that I took from the hospital. (I asked to take them) (maybe)
  5. I kept a hat, gloves, socks, long sleeves and pants on the baby everyday for 6 months in fear of the baby getting sick. The first time my baby wore short sleeves the baby couldn’t stop touching its arms. And to this day my first born LOVES hats and refuses to leave the house without one.
  6. Waited an entire month to take the baby out of the house… In once again fear of the baby getting sick. Took the baby to the mall (Out of all fucking places) and got his ‘newborn’ pictures done. A month later. There was one pose where he laid on a pillow, the ‘photographer’ insisted he do it without a diaper on. I lay him down, takes picture , go to pick him up… What does he do? Piss all over the pillow.
  7. Christmas Eve- my baby wakes up in the middle of the night with a fever… First fever ever. What do me and co creator do? Rush him to the ER. 3 am. Christmas Eve. He was fine.. He was teething.
  8. My first born is learning how to sit up … Falls forward and bumps head, barely touches the ground before the smother in me grabbed the baby. So, I get on the same height level as the baby and fall forward to see how badly the baby hit the head.
  9. I breastfed until the day my second child was born… In fear of my child getting sick.
  10. My second child is born… No anxiety. Off brand diapers were okay, a bottle that fell on the ground didn’t have to be washed right away, a slide could be slid down without being wiped down first, a little crying before getting picked up really isn’t so so bad and on the plus side I’m starting to lose my reputation as the manic mom at the doctors office.

2 going on 12.

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Having a daughter has been a blast thus far. I am blessed to have a boy and a girl so raising the two of them are very, very different experiences; and have complete two different personalities. As mentioned in previous posts, my daughter is intelligent, rambunctious, and really out of control, but so sweet; it is like she just knows what she’s doing. She knows not to touch a particular you of my sons, when nobody is looking she quietly walks overs, makes side eye contact with me, smirks and proceed to touch the toy. My daughter is 2 going on 20 and quite honestly I am concerned. Although I have quite a few years to go before certain situations have to be dealt with; those years will fly in front of my eyes and I must be prepared. Even though, realistically it is IMPOSSIBLE to plan anything when you are a parent and that includes just going to dinner.

Also, previously stated in other posts, I was quite the rebellious preteen/teenager; and my fears of my daughter taking after me is concerning and a plan needs to be put into action. Although, I want to be the “cool” mom like Regina George’s mom, but I also know that I need to be a respectable parent to my children. And most especially be the number one female role model she has in her life.

I am not being sexist in the fact that I am raising my children differently based on their genders; however girls and boys ARE different and in my opinion should not necessarily be raised differently but certain rules should be enforced for each gender. For today’s sake, we are going to focus on my daughters rules. Honestly because I didn’t mentally brain storm and boy rules yet.

Official MILF Rules for My Preteen/teenage daughter:

  1. You will not dress like a whore. You can wear trendy clothes that cover your navel and shorts that go past your vagina and pockets. I promise you I will buy you the clothes you want, as long as you don’t look like a slut.
  2. You will not wear a padded bra until you go away to college; and Victoria’s Secret is out of the question until at least 16. Who’s seeing your under garments anyways?
  3. Do not ever dumb yourself down for anyone especially a boy. Boys don’t like dumb girls they like intelligent girls who can have a comeback when they say something stupid.
  4. Any chance I get to match you… I will. You will participate in themed family portraits and always remember mommy and me pictures are timeless. 😉
  5. Unless you hit puberty and have super bad acne; you’re not wearing makeup. Enjoy your youthful skin that women in their 50s are paying mucho $$ for. My mother always told me that and naturally I never listened; listen to me.. Enjoy your face, enjoy looking young.. You’ll appreciate it one day.
  6. Do not lie to me. Don’t forget I played the game too and most likely better than you.
  7. You will not be a mean girl. I was a mean girl, and I still abide by some of the Offical Mean Girls movie rules; however it took me the hard way to realize nobody likes a mean girl except for other mean girls. Be nice; kindness kills and karma is a sick bitch.
  8. You will not be a bully. If I find out you are bullying anybody whether in person or in cyberspace; I will publically embarrass you.
  9. Shaving your legs is a privilege; but I promise I will never let you be embarrassingly hairy.
  10. You are going to get your period and you will grow boobs. Don’t be ashamed of it. I will help you every step through.
  11. You are going to think you met the love of your life; but I guarantee he or she is not. Don’t lose your friends over them.
  12. You are going to be peer pressured to do drugs and to drink. I want to raise you so that you make the right decisions. Don’t do drugs and don’t drink. And if you do, call me… Because if you get in a car with a drunk driver I will once again publically embarrass you, possibly even via media or worse social media.
  13. Never forget that I am your best friend. I will forever be your person💜

I am sure as the years go on… More rules will be added and some altered; except for number 12… I hope number 12 never changed.