My sweet toddler perched on her own swingset in her own backyard.

My favorite part about tucking my toddler in each night (other than disciplining her multiple times for running out of her bedroom) is caressing her soft, smooth, round cheeks. I talk to her in a low voice, and wish her sweet dreams. The lights are very dim, but I can still see her liquid blue eyes as they start to take on a less alert state. Tonight, I asked if she wanted to pray, and was surprised when she took the lead. And because it was just so sweet, I must spell out her words exactly as she said them.

Heavenwee Fodder, pwease help my daddy, and my mommy, and my Anna. And pwease help my singset. Amen.

As I finished up with kisses and hugs, I …

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She looked so sweet, and smelled so…bad.

My sweet toddler has been sick for four days now. And if you’re squeamish, you may not want to read any further. But if you’re a new parent, or considering parenthood, I strongly urge you to hold your lunch and read on. After all, I believe expectation management is the key to happiness. If you know what’s coming, you’ll be better able to handle the “joys” of parenthood. Here is what you can expect when your little one gets a super nasty stomach bug, especially if they’re able to run through the house (while vomiting), yet not able to reason quite yet (around 18 months old or so).

Your child may seem cranky/irritated leading up to getting sick, but they can’t tell you they’re getting ready to throw …

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Facebook at 1 a.m.

There’s nothing like Facebook (and a pumpkin muffin from Panera), to distract you while your toddler is crying it out in her room at 1 a.m. (She’s fine, just mad I won’t give her milk.) Here’s a little poem I wrote about items from my news feed to commemorate the occasion.

(image from insidefacebook.com)

Laundry mishap
Mommy rant
Messy child
Pink elephant

Starbucks coupon
Ikea plug
Baby pictures
Cute lil pug

Someecards
Random meme
Family photo
Star Wars theme

Politics
Silly joke
Kitty faces
Thankful note

Gee I’m glad
I logged in
What would I do
Without my friends? 

 

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As mothers, we’ve all been here. But what we wouldn’t give to be here again if we should ever lose our child. (image from: amanbirthservices.com)

It’s 3 a.m. Do you know where your children are? Mine are upstairs in their bedrooms. One sleeping soundly. The other in the throes of a full-blown tantrum, beside herself that I’ve finally stopped giving her milk at night. It was a bad habit. One that needed to be broken. And as much as it breaks my heart, and hurts my ears, I am grateful. Each scream is a blessing. Each cry is reminder that she is here. She is alive.

Somewhere, not too far from here, in a linoleum-floored hospital room, a mother holds the hand of her young daughter. She is dying. Cancer has wrapped its treacherous tentacles around her …

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Don’t you wish parenting came with one of these? (image from turbosquid.com)

 

Just a couple of days ago, I was freaking out that my 17 month old is already escaping from her crib. Like always, I took to Twitter and Facebook crowd sourcing for ideas. Should I move her to a toddler bed? Give her a serious talking to? Let her take our bed and we’ll sleep on the floor? (Kidding, people) I wrote that first post while she was sleeping in her crib, for her nap. I thought maybe I was freaking out for nothing. Maybe she would go ahead and stay in her crib, and only get out when she woke up. Ha! I am seriously funny.

I put her to bed that night, and thought we were …

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You think you can contain me? Game on. And that scrape on my nose? You should have seen the other kid!

At 15 months old, my youngest escaped from her crib for the first time. I heard her crying upstairs, and knew the sound was a little too close to her door. We were shocked. And scared. We weren’t ready. She wasn’t ready. But fortunately, the fall must have scared her, because she didn’t try it again. But now, she’s a little bit bigger, a little bit older, and at 17 months, she’s got it down. Just a lift of the leg, a hoist, and she’s free. Game on.

I’m completely unprepared for this. My first daughter didn’t start doing this until 20 months or so, and even then, she just didn’t care to escape, even …

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