Wednesday, January 26, 2011

The dreaded "Mommy Brain"

Does it ever end?
May or may not be an accurate depiction of "Mommy Brain"


You would think with this being round two that I would be used to the intelligence-reducing-mind-numbing mommy brain.  So not.


It is frustrating to start a sentence and stop cold in your tracks because you haven't a frickin' clue where you were going (or where you were coming from for that matter).  You get that wild-eyed-easily-spooked look... your mind (what is left of it) starts racing "where was I?  where was I?  where was I?".  You hope your fellow conversationalist doesn't realize just how lost you are but you know that they know (because you stopped mid-sentence).

I have had many a shopping trip end with me emptying the bags of assorted goods and realizing that the one thing I specifically went to town to get, did not make it home with me!  Waaaaaawt?!?

I would like to say that I have found a solution to the dreaded mommy brain, but I have not.  Lists do not work for me (I forget them at home or simply forget to check everything off of them as I go).  I try to be as prepared as possible and organize stuff ahead of time but I am Queen Procrastinator... so I plan to plan ahead and then I procrastinate on planning ahead.  Thus leaving me in a pickle of not being ready (or having forgotten what I was supposed to be ready for).

Today, I found myself in the kitchen... three times blankly staring around wondering... how I got there, why I was there and what I was doing.  I still don't know what I wanted to get done... I'm assuming that it must not have been that important.  

Edited to add the fun game of "Things I've Forgotten In The Last Month" (it's a hummmmdinger!)
*  To pick up potatoes for our homemade chips (for a New Years gathering... one of the very reasons I went in.to.town)

*  To wash my hair

*  To rinse my washed hair

*  To eat breakfast

*  Just now I forgot where I put the flyers that S brought in.  I hand them in.my.hands... and *poof* they disappeared

*  I frequently put things in.a.safe.place and promptly forget where my safe.place is

Monday, January 24, 2011

Blessing & A Curse

Teeny Terror has had a 'words explosion' in the past 3-4mos... that's not to say that he's been any sort of 'strong silent type'... noooo, he's always been chatteriffic (and I haven't a clue where he would have gotten that from... nope, not a clue).

But now, now he's positively a non-stop-chatting-machine!  I don't know if a switch was flipped, or what.  But goodness gracious does he ever have a lot to say.

Within the last week or so TT has started on real sentences... "What doing *pause* mom?".  I might hear that phrase 50 times a day.  Most of the time it's cute but other times... it's enough to send me to a padded room with the round-and-round-the-crazy-go-roundedness of it
TT:  "What doing *pause* mom?"
Me:  "I'm washing dishing TT"
TT:  "Why doing *pause* mom?"
Me:  "Because they are dirty and they need to be washed."
TT:  "What doing *pause* mom?"
Me:  "Sweetie, mommy is washing dishes... so that we have clean dishes to eat of off"  (A preemptive explanation... I'm one smart mama)
TT:  "Why doing *pause* mom?"  (Okay, apparently not as smart as I thought)
Me:  "Sweetie... go ask your dad what he's doing"  (Oh yes, I.AM.BRILLIANT!)
Off TT scampers to ask dear old dad what he's doing...

On the one hand it is a blessing, it totally makes me do the happy dance (because my toddler is the only toddler in the history of toddlers to speak in broken sentences.  Ever), it's a new chapter in our lives.  We'll spend less time (hopefully) wondering what Teeny Tyrant wants. 

On the other hand it is a curse because it also means that instances such as above are a daily (hourly?) occurrence.  There isn't an off button.  You can't have TT be cute & adorable on a whim... he's a chatting machine pretty much 24/7 and as such (even though it really is cute... that pause that TT inserts [as if he's trying to remember which parent he is speaking to] is heart warmingly sweet), sometimes it can drive you batshit crazy.  Like when you're nursing C-McC (Clingy-McClingster) down for a nap for the nth time in an afternoon then it makes you want to scream in frustration. 

Of course, C-McC chooses that point to coo and babble in that particularly adorable way that babies do... and your heart.  Well it melts just a little bit more (and you start hyperventilating because you don't remember TT chatting that much, this early... I may have two chatters on my hands... )

Monday, January 17, 2011

Met my match?

 I've always been a 'stubborn-to-the-tip-of-my-toes' kinda gal and have been since the day I was born (or so I have been told... being that I was an infant, I have no way to personally verify that... so there could be a conspiracy afoot... I'm just saying!

It has been said that my reluctance to leave the womb is behind my peculiar pinkies (apparently the tale goes that I was pulled out by my pinkies... hence their rather non-straight shape). 

I share this only to illustrate my point (which was, I am stubborn... you know, just in case you'd forgotten). 

Couple that with an insane obsession to be right.all.the.time., which quite frankly is an exhausting and fruitless endeavour.  Well, let us just say that the internet is my insane asylum.

My Sheldon Cooper-esque Twitch Progression
I 'meet' many people online that are spouting this, that & the other thing.  Things that seem to be made up on the fly.  Now if it was all in the name of hilarious smack-talk, I'd 'let it go' (because if you weren't aware... I am so Queen of the Interwebs).  When people sincerely believe the balderdash that they spout... well I start to nervously twitch a la Sheldon Cooper.  (Photo progression of my Sheldon Cooper Twitch courtesy of ).

There have been many a forum battle that I have become entrenched in, which leave S baffled at my need to be right.  He doesn't understand why I must correct those that I know to be wrong.  Honestly, I don't understand it either.

Me, tappity-tapping away
I'll give a current example - a forum I frequent had a discussion about the link between autism and vaccines and how it was found fraudulent morphed in to what most vaccination discussions morph into (a pro versus anti debate).  Both sides were providing data out of thin air and making gross generalizations.  As I'm tappa, tapping away S looks at me and says (paraphrasing gents... I'm 'A Muddled Mama' remember?  There is no way I can remember verbatim a conversation from last week) that I must be serious about something to be tapping away so ferociously. 

I was serious, super serious!  I just could not let it go... why is that?  Obviously, I'm right.  Right?  Maybe? 

Now translate this into my 'real life' (henceforth referred to as RL), I have a 2.5 year old son... as any mother will know, one cannot possibly be right AND have a 2.5 year old son. 

Because while he is utterly adorable and the apple of my mother-freakin-eye... he is also a Teeny Tyrant.  A Teeny Tyrant that believes he is also right.all.the.time.  If you say apple, he says orange.  If you say orange, he says apple.  I kid you not, one night we were at the supper table and he was playing with Mater (yes, I allow TT to have a toy at the supper table... ), well he starts talking about his 'car'.  S & I both correct him and explain that no, it is not a car but a tow truck and I expand upon that and say it is a brown tow truck.  Apparently S & I are insane... because TT is adamant that it is a car.  This went on for a couple minutes (not my proudest moment... arguing with a toddler over what is or isn't a car), when finally I said "Oh fer C's sake, it's a purple car"... "Purwple Cart" 

*sighs*  Yes, I was beaten by a Teeny Tyrant.

Is it wrong that I view the future with slight trepidation?  If my Teeny Tyrant is so tyrannical now, at the tender age of 2.5... how on earth is he going to be at 18?  Feel free to pity me.

Saturday, January 15, 2011

What did I get myself into?

There is an event going around on Facebook - "Pay It Forward 2011".  The rules are pretty simple, you're to post to your status that you are participating in the 2011 Pay it Forward... the first 5 people that respond to your status update are guaranteed a personal, handmade something from you.  The catch?  They then have to turn around and post their own "Pay It Forward 2011" to their status update.  I know some pretty awesome people and the ones who replied, well let's just say... I'd better bring my A game!  Which brings me to "What did I get myself into?", I hope this will help me with one of my resolutions (which is to be more crafty/from-scratch... ).  I have five people waiting for some awesomeness from me... I will be sure to share my creations (after they've been received by their respective people, of course!)

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

I think I can, I think I can, I think I can... Can I?

Should I attempt this bad boy?
I found this hat pattern on Etsy and I'm seriously thinking, "can I... really?"  Allow me to preface this by saying, I have never crocheted anything.  Ever.  But InnerHooker 's (side note: Yes, that is indeed the shop name... I think that is wicked-awesome!), anywho... it certainly looks like an adorable hat.  So, I may just have to pick myself up some crochet hooks and start practicing.  Stay tuned (and don't worry, if it's a dismal failure, I'll be sure to include pictures and a lovely story that you can laugh your arses off at me... what are virtual friends for, eh?)

Any tips to get my learning on?

Excuse me, but did you know you have a baby strapped to you?

Gaia
The other day I was trying to convince S that I needed another carrier... preferably something made with/out of Gaia (a Girasol Wrap ).  Now there are a couple reasons for me coveting said wrap (and not all of them have to do with my new addiction and my insane lunacy).  1)  N calls my mom Gaia, so isn't it just completely appropriate to have a carrier by the name that my sons use for their grandma?  2)  I've wanted a Gira rainbow (of some sort) for quite sometime, a lot of them are super girlie though, Gaia is not (as you can see above... it's fairly neutral colours).

I know what those of you not bitten with the wearing bug are thinking "How many carriers does one person need" (well, how many shoes does one person need... take that!)

For the record I'm not that stashified (trust me, I know people with stashes that make mine look redundant [one being one whom I shall refer to as my Wrap Goddess Friend or WGF for short]):
From left to right:
Natural Mother Productions Mei Tai (Yoga Monkeys, custom), SBP Ring Sling (brown linen, custom), NĂ©obulle Wrap (Simon 5.2m), Medley Wrap (Rio 5m) & rolz&Sassy Ring Sling (Oh and the totally awesome chair [but in PINK] came from CSNStores.com - wicked awesome!)

Now, to some this may seem like a lot. Why on earth do I need two rings slings and two woven wraps?  Well, (back to the shoes), why does one need more then one pair of shoes?  It's nice to have different lengths (hello kitten heel versus stiletto).  It's nice to have a carrier that is dressier (sneakers versus pumps).  And it's just nice to have an array of fabrics and colours (seriously, they're like Pringles... once you pop you can't stop!)

I don't think I've gotten S convinced that I need just one more... but if he needs any ideas for a birthday, Mother's Day, Anniversary present... *ahem, wink, wink*

Now, I'm sure some of you are thinking 'What in tarnation!  She straps her kids to her... what a hippie!!', actually... it is for my sanity.  O is a Clingy-McClingster... he likes to be held.  Now I could lay him down and make him 'suck it up' and deal with it (which would result in massive amounts of screaming, which would in turn result in massive amounts of gas, which would result in massive amounts of screaming... I'm sure you get my point).  I also have a wild, active and inquisitive 2.5 year old... so it's nice to be able to attend to the Clingster's needs AND colour, play, etc with my other Teeny Tyrant. 

I will say that I get a certain kick out of confusing the hell out of people when we're in public... most people are quite receptive, 'Oh he certainly looks snuggly... ', but occasionally I hear super original bits like 'woah, did you know you have a third boob?' (that's right ladies & gentlebeans... I am tri-boobed, thanks for publicly pointing it out!) or 'uhhhh, is that a baby?' (nope, it's a doll... I like to bring my dolls everywhere with me... because I'm just crazy like that).

Side note  -  I hope everyone finds this posting as ridiculously awesome as I am as I think it is because it took me THREE freakin' days to get done!  That's what happens when you have a Tyrant & a Clingster... particularly when they're not feeling well.  So, yes... enjoy it (the post) or else...

I can totally talk about babywearing & carriers until the cows come home, so feel free to comment on this and keep the carrier chatter going (or check out TBW).

Friday, January 7, 2011

Two posts, One Day?

I was informed by my daaaah-ling spouse that an introduction does not a post make.  Apparently, according to said spouse, one must actually post something of importance.

What could be more important than my aforementioned humiliation?  So, without further adieu, enjoy what I will refer to as "The Spreading Shortbread Tragedy".


It started out good... a pound of butter, some sugar & flour and some smashed bits of Skor, how could this go wrong?
Mmmmm... Skor shortbread in the making (the batter tasted delicious... errrrr... I mean looked delicious)
Mr. O all tuckered out after diligently helping me bake.  (Yes, I am fully aware of the photo-fuzz-factor, taking a flash-free, side-shot of your itty-bitty is surprisingly difficult)

what-the-frickin-frack-happened?  Was it the well-timed header that Big Boy N took off of his chair onto my hardwood floor as I was rolling out the dough?  Or the wails from Mr. O?  Hmmmmmmmmm

Take two... I had high hopes, they look so frickin' cute...it'll work, right?

Apparently not. 

I am totally blaming this abject failure on the Skor, it couldn't have been me!  In all seriousness, I used this recipe before Christmas, all I did was substitute the Toblerone for Skor.

So, that's it... I've thrown in the towel.  If you happen to have a Skor shortbread recipe that works, feel free to add to my shame & share it.

Allow me to introduce myself

Mama needed a way to share her beautiful boys' wild stories, rub in how gloriously domestic she is (insert *snort* here) and vent her frustrations, (her psychiatrist highly recommended venting or being committed [and I don't mean to her husband either]).

So where does a mama go when she needs to blow off steam? If you said 'the kitchen' deduct 10 points & give yourself a slap! (Granted I do love to cook & bake but seriously... don't 'send me to do my wifely duties' when I'm about to lose it all over the place). Where was I? (Do you see where 'A Muddled Mama' may have come from?) Oh yes, where does a mama go when she needs to blow off steam? Well to the blogsphere of course! (Side note 'blogsphere' or 'blogosphere'? I'm not quite sure which one is more correct... but 'blogsphere' it is, I have decreed it to be so.)

I am the proud mama to two wild & crazy boys (well actually I only know that one of my boys is wild and crazy, the other is a little young to be putting such labels on him but I'm sure that he'll be as crazy [if not more so - have mercy on me] as his older brother).  I love to putter in the kitchen and generally have a high success rate (but look out for the fails, they're epic... my mama always used to say "go big or go home" [okay my mama didn't used to say that but it sounds better that way, so deal]).  I have an affinity for parentheses (I'm sure you hadn't noticed).  My humour is a bit off and I have a strange obsession with how "crunchy" I am (for the record, I'd label myself as soggy oatmeal.  I try to be crunchy [breastfeed, babywearing, extended rear facing... etc] but feel that I fall short of true crunchification).  

If you've made it this far, I'm sure we'll get along famously.

Hang on to the edge of your seats... my next post is going to include a fail in the kitchen (pictures shall be included so that you can thoroughly mock me)