I try really hard to be a "normal" parent. You know, textbook mom that is nurturing, caring, loving, stern when necessary, etc. But that's not possible when your child does not fit the mold! My 2 1/2 year old speaks in FULL sentences, so it throws a lot of options out the window.
This morning:
DJ: mmmooooommmmmmyyyyyyyy *sing songy*
Me: Yes DJ?
DJ: Mommmmyyyyyyyyyyy
Me: That's it. I'm changing my name. My name is no longer "Mommy"
DJ: Is your name Shanise?
Me:*grumpy cat face* Never mind. I'm "Mommy" again.
With other kids that would have gone over their head, upset them, or made them giggle. Not my child. Somehow he found out what my real name is, and he's fully prepared to use it if I don't answer to mommy. How can I compete with that?!
Today I had my Weight Watchers meeting, and I was sure the scale was going to groan when I got on it because this weekend was not my best work. Chocolate, baked Doritos (they sound healthier, but when you have 4 servings at a time), Memorial Day, candy, chocolate... more chocolate... you get the point. Well I was down .4lbs (woo hoo!)! I thought for sure I was up this week. It could be that Jillian Michaels DVD I did Tuesday that helped me lose the .4. Jillian Michaels really makes me hate her. She should just wear a pants suit because she never actually works out with you. She forces these poor brave souls to workout at unimaginable levels of difficulty all while she walks around and talks. I want to see her sweat! How am I to know that she actually works out and isn't just shoving her finger down her throat after dinner?? I want ACTION!
**Turns into Hulk and flips table**
Sorry about that. My inner Hulk aka Hulk-eisha bka LaHULKsha sometimes comes out. You'll get to know her pretty well.
Thursday, May 30, 2013
Wednesday, May 29, 2013
Stubborn Child
It's almost 5PM which means it's time to leave work and be yelled at for an hour. I did not bring a snack for the ride home and DJ does not like that one bit. He turns into the excorsist when he's tired AND hungry. One day we had this conversation:
DJ: I want a snack.
Me: I don't have a snack.
DJ: Don't say that to people! Don't tell people you don't have a snack!
Me: Uh... ok? What am I supposed to say DJ? I don't have a snack.
DJ: Don't say that! I want some bread.
Clearly this kid does not care one bit what I say. He switched gears and asked for bread in hopes that I would have that in my purse. Of course! What was I thinking?! Don't all moms carry a loaf of bread in their purse? Wish me luck. Hopefully today I can distract him enough to make him forget to ask for a snack. Lord knows he cannot have my apple. Yes, I hide snacks from my kid! He asks for it, licks it, nibbles, spits it back out only to say "I don't like it". I'm on Weight Watchers so the apple is mine DJ! Mine! Mine! Mine!
Sorry about that. Wish me luck!
DJ: I want a snack.
Me: I don't have a snack.
DJ: Don't say that to people! Don't tell people you don't have a snack!
Me: Uh... ok? What am I supposed to say DJ? I don't have a snack.
DJ: Don't say that! I want some bread.
Clearly this kid does not care one bit what I say. He switched gears and asked for bread in hopes that I would have that in my purse. Of course! What was I thinking?! Don't all moms carry a loaf of bread in their purse? Wish me luck. Hopefully today I can distract him enough to make him forget to ask for a snack. Lord knows he cannot have my apple. Yes, I hide snacks from my kid! He asks for it, licks it, nibbles, spits it back out only to say "I don't like it". I'm on Weight Watchers so the apple is mine DJ! Mine! Mine! Mine!
Sorry about that. Wish me luck!
Get Ready 'Cause Here I Come!
Hi world! This is my very first blog, but I believe I can bring a lot of interesting things to the web. Whether people read my blog or not, it's therapeutic for me.
About Me:
I'm a 24 year old full-time mom, employee, and wife. My husband will be 33 soon, and my son is 2 years old. I'm sure you can tell by the title I suffer from anxiety disorder (don't you dare poke your lip out! Push it back in... all the way... that's better). Anxiety has made me a little off kilter at times but without it, I'm not sure who I would be! Both my parents suffer from some sort of anxiety so it's a normal part of life for me. Seriously my dad was like a Vietnam vet (although he was never in the army...). He was always uber paranoid that someone would break in our house and would have a B.F. (Bitch Fit) if we left a door unlocked for even 23 seconds. So... Yeah... I'm a tad bit jumpy.
Anyway.. My husband is the definition of "calm" I don't think he's ever really excited so when we're together I'm like a high school girl hyped up off of Red Bull and Skittles and he's so calm! Thinking about how calm he is makes me want to go for a run to let out some energy for him! He is not easily upset, and he is very patient. Why he chose me the world may never know. Opposites attract maybe?
My kid. My sweet, mouthy, easily annoyed, stubborn baby boy DJ. *sigh* I love him to pieces! He's a little "me" so it's hard to discipline him when I think he's making a very valid point. DJ is very much a thinker and has no problems telling you exactly what's on his little mind.
Me: DJ, do you want to use the potty?
DJ: mmmmm.... No Thanks.
Really?? He really sat there and thought about it and politely declined! How am I supposed to potty train this little booger? Like his Father he is not easily excited so potty training boot camp was a bust. I bought candy, games, toys, prizes, sang and danced while DJ gave me a grumpy cat stare down.
I also work full-time as an escrow specialist for a mortgage company that apparently hires people off the street as upper management because I swear no one in upper management has a clue what I do. A typical work conversation is my boss asking me really, really idiotic questions that he should know the answer to. If he didn't have a name plate I'm sure he'd forget his own name. I mean questions that make me want to set fire to myself and jump from the 9th floor window... but they made sure to suicide proof the windows for times like this.
In conclusion: This blog will be about motherhood, anxiety, weight loss, marriage, and just life. Come back now ya hear?
About Me:
I'm a 24 year old full-time mom, employee, and wife. My husband will be 33 soon, and my son is 2 years old. I'm sure you can tell by the title I suffer from anxiety disorder (don't you dare poke your lip out! Push it back in... all the way... that's better). Anxiety has made me a little off kilter at times but without it, I'm not sure who I would be! Both my parents suffer from some sort of anxiety so it's a normal part of life for me. Seriously my dad was like a Vietnam vet (although he was never in the army...). He was always uber paranoid that someone would break in our house and would have a B.F. (Bitch Fit) if we left a door unlocked for even 23 seconds. So... Yeah... I'm a tad bit jumpy.
Anyway.. My husband is the definition of "calm" I don't think he's ever really excited so when we're together I'm like a high school girl hyped up off of Red Bull and Skittles and he's so calm! Thinking about how calm he is makes me want to go for a run to let out some energy for him! He is not easily upset, and he is very patient. Why he chose me the world may never know. Opposites attract maybe?
My kid. My sweet, mouthy, easily annoyed, stubborn baby boy DJ. *sigh* I love him to pieces! He's a little "me" so it's hard to discipline him when I think he's making a very valid point. DJ is very much a thinker and has no problems telling you exactly what's on his little mind.
Me: DJ, do you want to use the potty?
DJ: mmmmm.... No Thanks.
Really?? He really sat there and thought about it and politely declined! How am I supposed to potty train this little booger? Like his Father he is not easily excited so potty training boot camp was a bust. I bought candy, games, toys, prizes, sang and danced while DJ gave me a grumpy cat stare down.
I also work full-time as an escrow specialist for a mortgage company that apparently hires people off the street as upper management because I swear no one in upper management has a clue what I do. A typical work conversation is my boss asking me really, really idiotic questions that he should know the answer to. If he didn't have a name plate I'm sure he'd forget his own name. I mean questions that make me want to set fire to myself and jump from the 9th floor window... but they made sure to suicide proof the windows for times like this.
In conclusion: This blog will be about motherhood, anxiety, weight loss, marriage, and just life. Come back now ya hear?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)