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Patience Is a F*cking Virtue

And it is one I do not posses in copious amounts.  I’ve written about practicing patience before and I still strive to achieve a level of zen in my life, particularly in my parenting, every day.  But Lord above is it difficult.

Monday night I had a night off from parenting.  I went out to a work dinner and Eric was on full daddy duty.  I got home and was able to go to bed after consuming a bottle of prosecco and said to myself that on Tuesday night I would be present and patient with Charlotte because I missed a night with her and would be gone all day Tuesday at work.  I truly missed her.  And then Tuesday night came around and I suffered through a 2 hour commute home and my patience went out the window around the time that the E train decided it was no longer going to work because the MTA is run by a bag of dicks.  Useless limp dicks too.  Not good for anything.  I got home much later than usual and told Eric I wasn’t cooking dinner and he was getting a peanut butter and jelly sandwich because who the hell wants to cook a meal after standing on a crowded hot train for 2 hours? NOBODY THAT’S WHO.

Char and I played with her toys, she ate half a pint of blueberries for dinner and things were going well.  Then it was bath time and she decided the water should flood the bathroom floor instead of staying inside the tub.  She also thought it would be a good idea to take a bucket of water and try to throw it at me.  Then she started screaming her head off because she couldn’t bring the battery operated PJ Masks figures into the tub.  Then she wouldn’t let me brush the dread lock-like knots in her hair and instead took the brush and threw it in the toilet.  Then we got in bed and she wanted to watch some stupid video on my phone and cried like a psycho when I explained to her we don’t watch videos before bed.  I had to wait a full five minutes for her to calm down and then she asked me to play “Part of Your World” from The Little Mermaid.  And we listened to this song for 35 minutes.  You know, when I was her age this was my favorite song.  My dad has a cassette tape of me singing to it at the top of my lungs.  This was MY JAM.  And because children ruin everything in life you have ever loved, she has now ruined this song for me.  Nobody needs to listen to Ariel this many times in a row.

We continued the nighttime saga by her moving around in bed every 7 seconds while announcing to me that she was moving.  Like the constant body flailing isn’t bad enough, she now needs to narrate it as well.  And all the while I was laying there thinking what a shit person I was because I said I would be patient with her because I missed out on Monday night but all I wanted to do was get the hell out of that room so I could go watch Chopped.

Ugh, parenting is so hard.  SO SO HARD.  But all I can do is try and be better every day right?  Take it one day at a time.  Maybe one day I’ll be blessed with Mother Teresa like patience.

Never Alone

Before I had a baby I used to wonder how it was possible that moms never got a minute to themselves.  How could it be that you can’t even pee alone?  Can’t you just shut the door?  I truly never got it.

Enter Charlotte.


Yes.  That is me, on the toilet bowl, trying to pee in peace.  This is me, on the toilet bowl, failing to pee in peace.  This is Charlotte, after barging into the bathroom demanding to see me, and climbing up my lap as I tried to relieve my bladder.  This is an EVERY. DAY. OCCURRENCE.

I apologize to all of the seasoned mothers for ever questioning your ability to go to the bathroom alone.  I was naive and stupid and for that I am sorry.

Oh, kids.

Portrait Mode

If Charlotte is awake when I get ready for work in the morning — which, let’s face it, is all the damn time — she usually asks for my phone to look at pictures and videos of herself.  I happily oblige because my coffee isn’t going to make itself.  The funny thing about raising kids with all of this technology around us is that they figure out how to use said technology pretty damn fast.  It amazes me that Charlotte cannot yet pee in a toilet but can work my iPhone perfectly.  Anyway, she doesn’t just like to look at pictures of herself now.  Oh no, she likes to take pictures of herself.  Here are three photos (out of 212 – I counted) that made me laugh when I got to work the other day because I had no idea she was having a photo shoot.


I laughed so hard when I saw these pictures, especially the first one.  She took burst photos of that first one.  There were 37 pictures in a row of her little ballerina foot.

Sidenote: Last night it took me 76 million hours to put her to bed because she kept asking me why she couldn’t put macaroni in her butt.  I don’t even have any words for this but I think everyone should know.

Soccer Star

Hey there! So as you can see (I hope) I have changed up the design of the site a little bit.  I’ll probably be tweaking with it a little bit here and there because I have no idea what I’m doing, but the exciting thing is The Mommy Minutes is now a registered domain!  Which means all you need to do is type in from now on to get to my lovely little blog.  HOW EXCITED ARE ALL OF YOU!  It’s too much to take in on this Monday morning, I know.  Big things happening over here.

Hopefully you all had a great weekend.  We had a pretty busy weekend but the weather was gorgeous and everything was so, so fun.  The best part of the weekend was Charlotte starting soccer!  She was amazing you guys.  It was like watching Bend It Like Beckham in real time.  She is a star. Natural gift.  Pure athlete.

These are all lies.  It was a disaster.  A funny, heartwarming disaster.  Although what can one expect from the first soccer practice for 2 and a half year olds?  I guess we’re just lucky she didn’t attack anyone.  She was very attentive in the beginning and the end, but the middle was a shit show.  She didn’t understand soccer was about kicking the ball, not picking it up with your hands and running it over to the net and then kicking it.  She told the coach she was a “yittle cranky,” said she wanted “to be in the clouds,” asked to pet every dog under the sun and then decided to walk away from everyone and stand alone by a bench to collect her thoughts.  Then she was asking for milk and Moana.  It was the best of times.



Here’s a snippet of my little chicken during the “last kicks.”  Melts my heart!!

Also, she has been asking for a Chucky doll on a daily basis. THANKS ERIC.

Child’s Play

I got home from work the other day and Eric and Charlotte were on the living room floor playing with toys and watching TV.  This is usually what is going on when I get home from work.  The TV is usually playing PJ Masks.  Do you want to know what my husband and 2 and a half year old daughter were watching on this evening?

Child’s Play 3.  You know, the one with Chucky, the murderous doll.  The doll that scarred me for life as a child.  The doll I can’t even look at without feeling pure fear.  THIS IS WHAT THEY WERE WATCHING.  So of course, I started screaming at Eric to turn it off, because 1) I don’t think Charlotte should be in the same room as Chucky and 2) I don’t want to look at Chucky.  And do you want to know what my daughter said when Eric changed the channel?


I really don’t know what else to say about this situation except, what the actual fuck?  This can’t be normal, right?  I don’t think this is normal.  Aren’t kids usually scared of this stuff?  Or am I going to just have to live with a husband and a daughter who watch horror movies together  while I cower in the corner?  This definitely isn’t normal.


This Is 30

Well you guys, I’ve lived an entire day as a 30-year old and I didn’t get any new wrinkles.  I got some new gray hair though and that’s not very exciting, but this is why they invented hair dye.

Anyway, I had a pretty awesome weekend for the most part.  It was nice that my birthday fell on labor day so I was able to spend the day with Eric and Char.  My friend took me out for a pedicure in the morning and then we went for lunch which was also pretty darn great.  I did not diet this weekend and I did not exercise.  Because I want to start 30 on a really healthy note, you know?

When I woke up in the morning yesterday I really thought I would feel sad, but Charlotte rolled over and immediately said, “it’s mommy’s birday!”  I love the way she says birthday.  And she sang to me all day long, and kept shouting “it’s mommy’s birday!” over and over, and who can be sad when you’ve got that kind of love coming at you?

I also felt extra love for her because my parents took her overnight on Saturday so Eric and I could go out and drink all night long with our friends and that was also glorious.  Although I’m pretty sure I am STILL paying that hangover toll, and it’s been 3 days.  I guess this is 30?  Eye cream, hair dye and week long hangovers?  Sounds like a fun ride coming up!

In all seriousness, thank you all so much for your birthday love.  You know how to make a girl feel special.  Charlotte gifted me with a shitty night’s sleep, so that was pleasant.  I need a nap.

Things That Go Bump In The Night

I have never been a fan of the horror genre.  I can barely watch commercials for scary movies and then go to bed without thinking about the commercial and becoming convinced that a serial killer/clown/demon/possessed doll will come get me in the middle of the night.  I still haven’t recovered from The Sixth Sense and I saw that movie 15 years ago.  I watched only the first 30 minutes of The Exorcist and I lost years off of my life.  So I really try to stay away from all things horror.  Except now I’m afraid of the one thing I can’t get away from.  My daughter.

You all know we have upgraded to the “big girl bed” aka the biggest waste of money in the land.  I get Char to go to sleep there but she never stays in the bed, even though I promise her everything under the sun if she will stay.  I don’t shut the door to her room completely because it’s still warm in my house and I want her to get some cross ventilation and all that.  So every night when I go to bed, I leave my door open and her door open.  I’m going to have to stop doing this because this child is scaring the shit out of me.  Every night, without fail, she gets out of her bed in complete silence.  I know it is complete silence because I have the baby monitor turned up to super mega volume so I can hear her escape.  I never, ever, ever hear her escape.  She wakes me up by standing next to my bed with her wild hair covering her face and quietly saying “mommy, mommy, mommy” until I wake up and have a friggin’ heart attack.  She looks like the girl from the movie The Ring.  You know the one, with the white dress who climbs out of the TV and murders the shit out of you.  Char is usually in a night gown, slumped over, hair in her face, in the dark, staring eye level at me.  It is so unsettling.  I wish she’d stop, or at least scream out to me at night and wait for me to come get her or something.

So every night really IS a horror show now.  I go to bed thinking of how I’m going to be woken up by The Ring girl that is actually just my child.  I didn’t think bedtime could get anymore nightmarish.  I’m always wrong.


Charlotte is at the age now where she learns a new word every day.  Some of them she says correctly, like the word “shit,” and other words she says in her own way that make me howl with laughter, like cantaloupe, which she pronounces “cilicoop.”  CILICOOP.  I really can’t.  Over the past few days she has a new word in her vocabulary arsenal.  That word is “um.”

Me: Char, what would you like for dinner?

Char: UMMMM, red pop?

She is saying um before everything now.  UM, YITTLE BIT OF MILK. UM, NO GO TO BED, UM CAN I HAVE AN ICE POP.  Everything is um, um, um.  I’m not even sure where she heard it, because I am pretty aware of how I try not to say the word um, because it has been ingrained in my brain that filler words such as um and like are NO GOOD.  So while it’s adorable now, I kind of want her to stop saying um all the time.  I’m going to be such a grammar nazi.  But then again, I’m still letting her say cilicoop instead of cantaloupe, so maybe I’m not that bad.

Also, I have 6 days left in my 20s.  I made an appointment for Friday to get my hair colored because my greys are out of control.  WAH WAH WAH WAH.

A Midsummer Night’s Nightmare

Have you guys ever been to a Broadway show?  Actually, it doesn’t even have to be a Broadway show, it could be a high school production for friggin’ Annie for all I care.  Do you see the work and effort that goes into putting on a production?  The costumes, the lights, the line memorization, the songs, the music.  So many moving parts come together to make a magical evening for all involved.  I imagine that I could put together a production of any musical or any play in the world and it would be easier than getting Charlotte to go to bed.  Getting her to get into her bed and be quiet and sleep and STAY THERE is harder than a matinee performance of Wicked.  I could probably play Glinda and Elphaba at the same damn time and it would be easier than dealing with this child.

Last night we put on the performance of A Midsummer Night’s Nightmare.  The critics give it 0 stars because it was horrible.  And by critics I mean me.  The curtain opens and we begin.

Scene one.  She wasn’t tired she told me.  She didn’t want to wear her pajamas.  Then she wanted to wear her fish pajamas, but not with the pants.  Then she didn’t want to wear a shirt she wanted to wear a nightgown.  Then she decided she wanted to wear her fish pajama shirt with a different set of shorts.  This took 20 minutes of negotiations and years off my life.  After this, she wanted “a yittle bit of milk.”  I told her absolutely not because she already had milk and she already brushed her teeth and we weren’t going to start going to sleep with a bottle in bed.  We are now in scene 2 of tonight’s performance and she really brought the drama here.  The wailing, the crying, the pounding of the fists.  I told her she could have water and she gave in to that.  So I exit stage right and get her water, which she doesn’t drink, but wants to tuck into bed with her.  I guess she wanted another scene partner or something.  So now I am holding her with a tucked in bottle of water in between my boobs.

Scene three.  Lights out.  She requests songs, but then covers my mouth as I sing them.  She requests that I tell her a story about when she was in my belly.  I tell her these were happier times.  I am the miserable antagonist in this performance.  Then she wants to switch blankets with me, but then switch them back.  This goes on for a while.  I lose my will to live.

Scene four.  I tell her if she doesn’t go to sleep she is never getting a lollipop for the rest of her life.  She cries, as one does when they are threatened with such horrible prospects.  She asks me to sing again and she starts to fall asleep, 45 minutes after we have begun this shitty play.

Scenes 5-666.  She wakes up every time I try to move.  She wakes up when I finally leave the room, three times.  She wakes up when I take the bottle of water out of her bed.  Her only line in the rest of this production is “mommy lay! mommy lay!”  My only line in the rest of this production is “someone please save me from this hell.”

The play ends.  She goes to bed after almost 2 hours of me begging for mercy.  I go to bed without eating because I have no willpower to even microwave leftovers.

12:30 AM. She begins anew.  The play isn’t over yet.  The beast has awoken.

Abandon all hope ye who enter here.

Is It Too Early to Discuss Halloween?

Right now in NYC I am pretty sure the temperature is only around 80 degrees but there is 750 million percent humidity so it feels like you have stepped into a pot of split pea soup when you walk outside.  You feel wet and warm and uncomfortable and my fingers are swelling and my hair is frizzing and honestly, I am done with it.  Summer was nice but I’m ready for it to be the hell over.  I want leggings and sweaters and boots and scarves.  Before you start attacking me, no, I do not want winter to be here, I want FALL to be here.  When the air is crisp and you can open the windows and not have to be breathing in recirculated air conditioned air 24 hours a day that is costing a billion dollars a month.  That’s all.

With talk of fall comes talk of Halloween.  I talked to Charlotte about Halloween this morning and explained that she gets to dress up however she wants and we get to walk around for candy.  This made her very happy.  Her favorite food group is candy.  I asked her who she would like to dress up as and she told me Cat Boy from PJ Masks.  We are on a SERIOUS PJ Masks kick in our house lately.  She’s seen it before, but now it’s pretty much her favorite show and her favorite toys.  So as of right now, Charlotte will be Cat Boy.  She then told me that I will be Gecko and Eric will be Owlette.  I am all about this.  I am ready for my husband to wear a red suit with owl wings.  We are going to rock the Halloween Circuit as the PJ Masks family.


Now all I need to do is find this in his size.