When You’re Not Allowed to Ask for Help….

Kiefer recently returned from a 2-week trip. That means it was just me, Scout, and Ozzy ALL the time. Plus Boo and Radley for a couple nights.

Whenever Kiefer leaves—as in within minutes of him getting on the plane and turning off his cell phone—Boo and Radley’s mom calls.

Their Mom: Can you keep the boys tonight/tomorrow night/whenever?

Thoughtsy: Yes….

Forget that I already have plans or have nothing they’ll eat for dinner or was really just looking forward to sitting around pantsless.

This happens for each of Kiefer’s trips…multiple times a trip. To the point that I felt like she knew I wouldn’t say no, so she was taking advantage of the situation.

Two weeks is a long time to not see Boo and Radley, so it’s nice to see them while Kiefer’s away.

But it’s not so nice when I have to pick Radley up from school, take Scout for a drive to nap because she’s transitioning from 3 naps to 2, have to pick up Boo from basketball practice, and make dinner. And the last three things happen in the same 45-minute period.

I need time to mentally prepare myself for that kind of craziness. Not an hour’s notice.

To avoid me having a breakdown while Kiefer was away, he sent his ex an email with the days the boys would stay at our house.

Cue nastiness. She got angry. Said the boys didn’t have to stay there at all and that she could just keep them the whole time.

When the first day rolled around that Boo and Radley were supposed to stay with me, I wasn’t sure if they were coming or not. They came. It was a jam-packed night, but we made it through.

Dear Kiefer’s Ex,

Remember what it was like with your first baby? Remember that you had no idea what you were doing? Remember when you would take the baby for a drive because it-just-won’t-nap-and-you-just-want-to-take-a-shower-dang-it?

Now throw in two other children—who are yours, but not yours. You’re a stepmom, and you really don’t want to lose your patience or temper (SHHHHH! The baby is SLEEPING!) with your stepchildren lest they start dubbing you the “evil stepmother.”

I’m a new mom. I’m a new stepmom. And I’m new to single-parenting…even if it’s only for 2 weeks. All I’m saying is…I need some help, some notice, some understanding.

Thanks, 

Thoughtsy

PS: Kiefer’s next trip is next month, so please reread this letter in January.


Move Over Mel Gibson! Scout Is Braveheart

Before it got chilly, Scout and I played outside. Her favorite game is called Baby Tries to Eat the Grass While Mommy Yells, “Get It Outta Your Mouth.”

It’s fun. No, really.

Then we discovered the soccer ball.

soccer

My initial reaction was Scout’s baby gibberish loosely translated to “You may take our lives/soccer ball, but you can never take our freedom!”

But maybe that was too hasty. Maybe she was really saying…

  • Are you blind, ref?!?! That ball was out!
  • Put me in coach! I’m ready to play…today!
  • What the heck, Mommy! I can’t fit this soccer ball in my mouth!

What do you think Scout is saying? Or what do you think Ozzy Pups is thinking?


It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year…Isn’t It?

Two days after Thanksgiving our neighbor knocked on our door to deliver some somber news:

The man who lived two houses down had taken his own life.

Radley had told us he woke up in the middle of the night and saw flashing lights outside his window, but since they were gone in the morning, we didn’t give it a second thought.

We didn’t give it a second thought because we were busy cleaning up Thanksgiving since we hosted for 15 people, and the house was a wreck.

We didn’t give it a second thought because a few months ago the house across the street had an electrical fire and seeing fire trucks, police cars, insurance workers, and contractors had become common.

I used to see our neighbor almost every morning running, but I hadn’t recently, and I didn’t give it a second thought.

I spoke to him briefly over the summer, and he seemed out of it, but I was trying to get Scout to nap so I didn’t give it a second thought.

This time of year it’s easy to get stressed out or caught up in the holiday madness. But stop and give someone a second thought. And if you’re having a rough time, stop and give it a second thought.


Thanksgiving-Themed Frozen Yogurt: Creamed Corn?

In case you didn’t know, my blogger-buddy Misty had a baby. And although I plan to descend upon her and the baby (aka possibly Scout’s future boyfriend) soon, we tried* to squeeze in one more prebaby date.

*The Braxton Hicks decided to trick Misty, so we didn’t meet.

So we were going to meet for frozen yogurt. A dessert fiend and a pregnant lady. Where else would we go? Duh.

As I scoped out the flavors online, I ran across this flavor:

WTF.

Reeeeeeeeeally. Creamed corn frozen yogurt.

Who decided that was a good idea?

Veggies and dessert do not mix—That comes from someone who claims her PB&J is a fruit because it contains strawberry jelly.

And why does it say it contains milk? It should say, “Contains Corn.”

What’s the funkiest flavor yogurt you’ve tried?


Piglet Frenched My Daughter: A Mommy Fail

Scout spends her days climbing over Ozzy Pups and crawl-chasing Esme Kitty. Because she loves animals so much, I took her twice (with different “boyfriends”—Kiefer loves it when I say that) to a petting farm.

She especially loved the piggies.

No, I mean she really loved them. And they loved her. Literally.

piggy kiss

Piggy Kiss!

Oops.

So was this a Mommy fail? On one hand, she was exposed to some dirt and germs to build up her immune system. On the other hand, ewwww! Germs!

Not to mention the future dating standards. What if Scout never meets someone who can kiss better than that pig? What if he set the bar too high?


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