TV is Evil

I'm not one of those parents that "doesn't believe in TV" for children. TV has tutored Cub with his counting, letters, and words. I'm grateful for TV. The "right" TV -- Sesame Street, Super Why!, and any other strictly educational television programs for toddlers.

However, this morning I let Cub watch a little "too much" TV. I had to make phone calls and take care of a few things so I thought, "It won't hurt if he watches a little more..." And on I went making my phone calls and doing my tasks, even though all along I started feeling guilty. Dirty. Like a naughty parent for letting my child sit in front of the idiot box, glued.

Soon enough, we had to run some errands so I was able to pull him away and get out. We went to a little storytime at the local library, played a little bit then came home -- with one of his favorite videos from the library. Naturally he wanted to watch it immediately. It was close to nap time but I thought, heck, I'll pop it in and let him watch while he eats lunch in his highchair.

Lunch is over. The video is over. Perfect time for nap. Cub seems totally fine. Then wham! Out of nowhere SUPER TANTRUM FIT. I first thought it was teething, so I gave him some teething tablets and gel and tried to comfort him, even read a story. But he started screaming so loud, at ranges Mariah Carey can't even hit, I'm sure someone outside was considering calling CPS. I tried to stay calm. But it spiraled into a bigger tantrum.

Finally, I took him out of his room and went back to the living room -- where the TV is. And he got quiet. I thought, out of exhaustion, maybe I can turn on CNN just to have the TV on and he'll get bored and fall asleep in my arms. But NO! He was not falling for that trick. And on went the screaming. I finally turned to PBS kids and Sesame Street was on and out popped an angel. He was quiet, happy, calm. I turned back to Anderson Cooper one more time to test this. And out came the screams and tears again. Back to Sesame Street, angel.

Long story short, I did allow him to complete Sesame Street then whisked him away, kicking and screaming, convulsing, and forced myself to rock him to sleep no matter how long it took. And finally, it worked.

Never again. I am definitely setting TV limits! Or hiding it!

Get Up, Stand Up

My baby is gone.

He was just here.

I found some of his old booties.
They're tiny and precious.
They belong on a doll's feet.

I put away some of his clothes. To believe that a very short time ago he couldn't fit into the newborn onesies we had. But now they're all piled up, shoved inside a closet and waiting. Either to be given away or for a sibling to come sometime in the future. Or to be eaten by nasty silverfish hiding in the deep crevices of the closet.

That baby I had, that yummy, gummy, beautiful cooing little baby boy has vanished. I cradled him to bed one night. All cozy and perfectly curled up into my arms. Then I woke up and poof he was gone. Just like that. I'm sure there was even the "poof smoke" when it happened too. But since it was the middle of the night I didn't get to see it.

Now I have a wiggly, twirling, adorable greased pig. Not a pig like the dirty, smelly, gross animal. A cute piggy. Like a Babe type pig. The frisky type of pig you want to kiss all over and play with. One that George Clooney would get. A Wilbur pig that bats his eyes at me and makes me laugh. That frolics and giggles and is impossible to catch or hold still.

I think this pig ate my baby.

Somehow during nap and bedtime this little piggy disappears. And leaves me with a bop bag. You know, those balloon-like things that you bop down and they keep bouncing right back up? That's what's happening in the crib.

No more baby.
No more pig.
Just a bop bag.

Cubby is now all about pulling up. He has mastered this skill and wants to show it off on every occasion. Especially during sleep times. I lay his little self down and bop he's up again! Standing, holding onto the crib railing with his four teeth grin.

I let him do this a few times, hoping he'll get bored or tired or both. But after what feels like 10 hours, I gently put him back down and firmly tell him it's time to go to sleep. He looks at me like, yeah right. Then scrunches up his little face with all his might, trying to use those little six-pack abs to pull himself up again. As soon as I step away --- BOP. What do I do with this new bop bag?

When I try to resort to picking him up and rocking him to sleep, the cute greasy pig comes back and is wiggling and squirming out of my arms!

It's a conspiracy.

They're double-teaming me. That bop bag and greasy pig.

And what's really pathetic is they're outsmarting me!

I guess I'll make peace with them for now.

I gotta admit, they're cute.

And when I turn my face during these moments so he won't see, I can't help but to want to laugh at how ridiculous this is.

Introducing Guest Mama "Dawn"!!

Hey, Mamas, it affords me great pleasure to introduce our first guest mama, DAWN, to the Baby Knack!

Dawn is a mother of 3 (God bless her soul!) -- 9 months, 3 and 6. Her stories really belong on a reality series. These beautiful children are a -- Dawn, dare I say, a hot mess?? In a hilarious way, of course!! Lol.

Dawn's stories always have my stomach hurting from laughter. Her girls, the 3 and 6 year old, are brilliant, sassy and pickled with a sense of humor. They definitely keep Ms. Dawn on her toes!

Here are some of her stories... (apparently her kids are fixated on the derriere!)

BABY PHAT

Today, I was out shopping for new jeans to celebrate losing more baby weight. While pushing the basket, my 6 year old daughter came up behind me, put BOTH hands on my butt and made my booty shake! All I could say was, "Why?" In which she replied, " I like to see it jiggle". Of course after that I wasn't in a celebratory mood and tried to get out of the store as fast as I could just in case anyone heard her.

BUTT CHEEKS

The other day my 3 year old was undressing with her back toward me. She had on a dress with lots of buttons down the back. Her dad helped with the buttons. When she was able to slide the dress down, she pulled down her undies, exposing her little 3 year old booty and grabbed two handfuls, squeezed, and then looked over her shoulder and said "butt cheeks"! Then started laughing hysterically. All I could do was shake my head. I could see her doing that in front of company!

Apparently Dawn's already preparing to be a grandmother in this story...

DA' KIDZ

So, last night during dinner out of nowhere, my 6 year old daughter asks, Mom what days are you going to be open to watch my kids? I'm thinking Friday will be good for me 'cause I'm going to need to do things like, get my nails done and like my hair. Soooo, how does that sound to you? Are you, like, going to be available or should I bring them another day? She then turns to her dad and says, Dad, if Mom is not available can you watch them for me?

Of course, I was sitting there speechless. I think I told her that I wasn't going to be around because I had my own hair and nail appointment. So my husband replies to her, You can drop the kids off anytime.

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Thanks, Dawn!!

All you other fun mamas out there, please feel free to send me a funny story or two if you have one at HindsWriteProds@gmail.com. I can't post every one, but I'll do my best!!

Love.

A True Artist, Indeed.

Two toddlers were drawing with sidewalk chalk today at the park.
They had to have been about 2 years old. Not much older. Maybe 2 1/2.
Me and Cub were watching.

One of the little boy's nannies suggested the boy draw Cub a picture. She actually said a "smiley face" but he decided to draw a snake instead. A very abstract snake.

Shortly after, it was time for the snake drawer to go. His nanny took his hand and tried to lead him away. But before they could take one step, the other little boy started drawing over the abstract snake.

The snake boy started panicking. He grabbed at his hair, in serious distress and shouted,
"That's my art! My art! Don't touch my art!"

The nanny kindly but firmly tried to pull the little boy away but he continued,

"That's my art! My art!"

He was truly devastated.

It was absolutely hilarious. The boy didn't say, "Don't draw on my snake." Or "That's my snake!" Or anything else an average 2 year old might say. But this boy was truly concerned about his art.

We were flattered since Cub had commissioned that snake drawing. Perhaps in the years to come we'll commission more of his abstract art.

That Kid

Everybody knows that kid.

That Kid is the kid that's acting a fool, out of control, showing out, throwing tantrums and just being that kid.

I saw a that kid last week. We were at a function and this kid was a true wild child. Breaking things, all up into everything, making a complete mess and spiraling out of control. But the interesting part about it was that the kid's parents were enjoying their time, socializing, having cocktails, etc. (I guess one might need a cocktail or two if they have that kid.) But every time that kid did something crazy, the parents kind of glanced over, smirked, and then went about their business. Or poo pooed it like it was cute.

So my question is, do you know when you have that kid? I'm assuming you'd have to. But some parents act as if they're truly blind to this. And everybody knows they have that kid but them.

I was with a girlfriend the other day and her little baby was being that baby. Just a fussy-poo. And she recognized it. She even asked her little baby, "are you going to be that bratty kid today in the park?" We laughed it off. But at least she tried to do something to calm the poor child.

I've seen many parents just let that kid melt down right there in the grocery store, mall, bank and many other public places. I'm not talking about the occasional sleep deprived melt down. I'm talking about that kid. You know what I mean!

So please someone tell me if I ever have that kid and try to front like I don't. Because I definitely don't want to be that parent!