DIZMOMMY

Pages

  • BLOG
  • MY STORY
  • MEDIA KIT + CONTACT

December 17, 2014

Why I'm Not Winning Mom of the Year, Again

It was the busiest time of year and he was running away from me. I didn't have the stroller because it was an unplanned, last minute trip. I really needed wanted to use my Sephora credit before it expired so I had to make it work. Even if it meant dragging my cranky toddler to the gas station (I hate gas stations as much as he hates sitting in the car feeling abandoned); and even if it meant feeding him drive-thru dinner in the car on our way there; and even if it meant leaving the stroller at home. Deep breath. I braved rush hour traffic in the thick of holiday hustle and bustle with a terrible 2er in tow. It was game time. 

And at first there was hope. I managed to snag front row mall parking. Amazing, I know. But as I carried Dylan through the doors of the mall and set him down, it took three seconds for him to transform from a feral rat to a full-blown wet gremlin, bolting away in the opposite direction. I was losing control faster than I imagined and it was obvious when he ran to the back of Santa’s giant Christmas tree display, then confirmed when he began shaking the large steel barricade protecting said tree from this exact situation. And honestly, I may have been able to regain control had it not been for the damn mechanical bear that kept spinning its head from left to right. Dylan was enamored and adamant he wasn’t going to cooperate. I couldn’t compete. Can we just go to Sephora now? 

I needed a solution and a Xanax, but not in that order. I knew at any given moment things could get worse. I mean, he ate crap for dinner, he’s in front of the biggest Christmas tree in the world, on any other night he’d be in bed by now, and there’s a bear with a spinning head that keeps making eye contact with him. I know my son. I know all I need to do is mention leaving and he’ll either shrill, scream, hit me, pull my hair, flail his body like a dying fish, OR!!! Simply agree and follow me. Yup! I know my son alright, well enough to know that you never know with a two year old. 

At this point, I’m officially threatening abandonment. “Bye Dylan! Love you!” I said, waving goodbye and walking away. Fifty feet later, he showed no signs of cracking. In fact, he seemed thrilled by my departure. This is what a power struggle looks like, mom edition 2.0. But then I had an idea. Sure, it wasn’t one I’d disclose on my Mom of the Year application, but look! The Sweet Factory! “Do you want a treat?” I asked Dylan as I walked back to him (Son 1, Mom 0). “Yes.” aka permission to pick him up GRANTED. 

I dashed to candy land, bought 13 yogurt raisins for $98 bucks (WTF), stuffed them in my purse and set Dylan down. “If you want a treat you’ll have to be a good boy. Are you going to be a good boy?” “Yes.” 

1 yogurt raisin unlocked. I began walking to Sephora and guess who was walking right next to me? Only the best behaved 2ish year old you ever did see! “Mmm…yummy.” Damn right it is son. And then he upped the ante. Boyfriend grabbed my hand. Yes, he went from textbook tyrant to catalog toddler with 1 yogurt raisin, it was amazing. As we strolled on, hand in hand, I began noticing looks from all directions. Looks that I’m not used to. Instead of the scathing glares, bleak expressions, and typical sympathy faces from fellow mothers, I was getting nods of approval, smiles, and oogly googley eyes. I could almost hear other parents asking their kids why the hell they can’t behave like my baby. 

It was remarkable. I wanted to high five all persons of the world and spin around like the hills were alive with the sound of music. I continued feeding Dylan like a goat at a petting zoo and within fifteen minutes our trip was successfully complete. And I know this power won't last forever, and that raisins won't always be considered candy, that treats won’t always be as inaccessible to him…so for me, right now, I'm working it. And to all the onlookers colored impressed by my well-behaved tot, thank you. But for $12.99 per pound, you too can have this type of power.

I may not win Mom of the Year, but a tantrum-free-sans-stroller shopping trip a week before Christmas is win enough for me! 

Oh come on, you didn't expect me to actually take a picture in the midst of all the chaos, did you?

December 11, 2014

I'm Not Stupid, I Swear

When it comes to verbal skills, I’m sort of a mess. I fumble, I jumble, and I mispronounce words ALL the time. I suffer from flash-think…aka rapid thoughts that confuse my poor slowmo mouth. The result? “Do you want to eat your movie and watch your dinner?” Though my knack for ditzy speech used to sadden me (I’M NOT STUPID I SWEAR!), I’ve gotten pretty good at not acknowledging the slips as they happen. I don’t bother correcting myself anymore. Instead, I exude inflated confidence, scream internally, and roll with it. But apparently being garble-girl wasn’t enough for me as I’ve ventured to a new low: poor conversationalist.

I’m not trying to suck when I talk to you, I swear! It’s effortless actually; because there’s this thing that happened to me when I had baby Dylan- I embarked on my very own big baby devolution. Sure I’m all adult on the outside, but internally, I’m singing itsy-bitsy-spider and noticing how blue today’s sky is. I’m sorry. I blame the kid. Months ago when I first began realizing my brain was becoming that of a toddlers, I accepted the new-found state of excitable clapping, mini-pancakes, and toy jacking my son because it came easy. It felt right. But you know what doesn’t feel right? Calling your boss’ headache an “owie,” or interrupting someone in the thick of a conversation to shout, “I see you!” at your son in an effort to discourage foreseeable funny business. As you were saying? 

These days my conversations are not only laced with my typical backwards speak, but they also include baby babble (Time for yum-yum!), offbeat comments (LOOK, A BIG TRUCK!), and frequent disruptions (Don’t hit Boog! Is that Nice?). So in advance, I’m sorry. Please understand that the constant exposure to overly enthusiastic children’s programming and all things toddler are getting the best of me. But there’s hope! As I continue to regress, Dylan continues to progress, and one day we’ll meet in the middle and adulthood will be restored.

Unless of course, this is just me returning to my natural state, in which case I’ll be forever young. And that’s kind of a win. Right?

December 8, 2014

8 [Often Overlooked] Resume Polishers for Parents

On any given day you can find me scrambling to meet the ridiculously high standards of my toddler, who works me like a show pony. He wants me to make him breakfast, swaddle his stuffed animal, pick him up, and serve him juice, all at the same time. But before I can even process his whines demands, he spews out another 5. So you know what I do? Miraculously execute them all. Such competence was developed on the job and at this point, my juggling skills could put world renowned circus acts to shame. And they should…but no one knows they exist. 

This lack of disclosure is practically a crime against parents everywhere. Mastery should be celebrated! Or in the very least, briefly accounted for on one’s resume along with all their other qualifications. So to Moms and Dads throughout the world, feel free to add these gems to your own resume, because there’s no way I could be the only one who has met the following demands during their vigorous (and ongoing) domestic work experience: 

- Search and Rescue Operations: 99% success rate in recovering lost items, with focus on small toy cars. 
- Anger Management Specialist with the ability to derail meltdowns through distraction, negotiation, and various counseling techniques. 
- Certified M.O.M. (Master of Multitasking): Innate talent for identifying workload priorities to maximize overall productivity (and peace). 
- Professional demeanor with the ability to maintain position of authority in the face of a hilarious and unapologetic colleague. 
- Conflict Resolution Whizz: Vast experience in shutting shit down facilitating diplomatic conclusions to often nonsensical conflicts. 
- Effective communicator; with emphasis on deciphering incoherent speech and body language translation. 
- Enthusiastic Team Player: Possess round-the-clock fervor, even during mundane and repetitive tasks such as reading the same book and/or sitting through the same movie 12 times back to back. 
- Possess high tolerance for unruly and often unforeseeable drama without taking misappropriated actions personal. 

Though there’s a multitude of additional talents that have not been included in the aforementioned skills, I should note that I’ve intentionally left out a big one: the ability to withstand exposure to bodily fluids and excrements. I mean, a show pony can only put up with so much shit.

Meet the slave driver.

December 3, 2014

My Baby Ate the Gerber Baby (Thanks Save-A-Lot)

My Gerber baby competitive eating at 7 mo.
When it comes to all-things-Dylan, some things are simply indisputable. Like the fact he favors his dad; he’s sound sensitive; and boyfriend is serious about his food…REAL serious. Right now, I’m trying to teach Dylan that it’s okay to give me a bite of his cookie and if mom asks for one of his beloved Gerber yogurt melts, the world REALLY won’t burn to the ground. Dylan, I swear. The amount of food he can fit in his wittle baby tummy has always surprised me and I’ve often wondered if he has a bright shining future in competitive eating. A mom can only hope.  

But just because Dylan’s stomach is a bottomless pit, doesn’t mean my bank account has to be. There’s no doubt that feeding my child is expensive and I may need a second job in order to keep up with the grocery bill once he’s a teenager. But for now- I can afford to indulge all of his Gerber favorites because they’re officially available at Save-A-Lot. And I save a lot I Save-A-Lot at Save-A-Lot. (lol, I couldn’t help myself.)

Because Gerber foods are baby/toddler approved/consumed and affordable, Dylan’s hungry-hippo non-sharing tendencies are fully enabled. And yes, I did just inadvertently confess to snacking on my 1 year old’s snacks. Don’t judge me, those yogurt melts are amazing and I’m teaching him how to share like any good mom would. One could say that because  I’m teaching him how to Share-A-Lot. (Look, I never claimed to be funny.)

To get in on the Gerber goodness and for the chance to win a $25 Save-A-Lot gift card, visit their Smart Shopper Club Sweepstakes featured on Save-A-Lot’s Facebook page. There’s a winner WEEKLY for #SaveALotInsiders!

http://soch.us/DSnJ-h2Y1" rel="nofollow"

#spon: I'm required to disclose a relationship between our site and Save-A-Lot. This could include Save-A-Lot providing us w/content, product, access or other forms of payment. However, I'm not required to disclose (but will anyway) that Dylan really is a hungry hippo who loves Gerber yum-yums. Proof.

December 1, 2014

Tree Phobia and All Things Winter

A lot of people say that summer is their favorite season but for me, this is it. Winter is my thing* and I’m officially on a holiday high! Though I’ve always loved winter (partially because my birthday is in early January), this year is extra amazing because of my little superstar Dylan. The kid is young enough to not have any idea what’s coming but old enough to enjoy it once it hits. And yesterday I said goodbye to November and hello to Christmas December by baking some chocolate chip cookies; it’s a fan favorite. 

The Christmas tree is up, stockings are hung, it rained yesterday, and all I want to do is listen to old classic carols like Elvis’ Blue Christmas and Bing Crosby anything! Speaking of Christmas trees, Dylan keeps calling ours “pretty” but refuses to get near it. Have you seen the clip on Maury featuring a girl who is deathly afraid of pickles? Well, that’s Dylan only instead of pickles, trees are his fear. He acts like he’s down for trees and nonchalantly walks past them but the second you pull him near a tree he loses his shit….like this: 

 

 


The fact 2015 is a month away blows my mind but I enjoy (okay I LOVE) reflecting on the past and the upcoming year and thinking about all the different ways I can elevate my spirit. At the risk of sounding like a total fruit, I’m all about self-improvement (in theory). I’m not saying I’m Ms. Follow-Through but I definitely make sure to plant my intentions and focus on what I want. So hey, happy holiday season to you and yours and let’s get this party started! 

And I have to know (it's part of my pre-holiday pump up routine), what is you're absolute FAVORITE part about this time of year? 



*Winter is technically still three weeks out but I love it so much that I don’t even care!