The 10 Commandments of Picky Eating

1. Thou shalt eat everything at least once in your short life and then dwindle down the approved list of foods to less than 10 items.
2. At a random moment, Thou shalt eat something NOT on the approved food list…but definitely never touch it again.
3. Thou shalt eat only take-out or fast food forms of some approved foods consistently (i.e. French fries and ketchup, Peruvian pollo a la brasa, Peruvian rice and beans) but the second Mom tries to serve the exact same homemade item, thou shalt poo-poo it.
4. Thou shalt decide that you really don’t want to eat peanut butter sandwiches for like 3 weeks causing your mother angst that you subsist on nothing but goldfish crackers and milk.
5. Thou shalt become a little twit because you are really HANGRY but refuse to eat.
6. Thou shalt refuse any approved items if made differently that what you are used to (ie. Black raspberry jam ONLY on the pbj, and not on wheat bread because that is blasphemous! And no, Annie’s cheddar bunnies are NOT the same as goldfish…)
7. Thou shalt freak out when constipated even though it is your diet choices that caused the unfortunate condition.
8. Thou shalt demand to eat weird things like your baby brother’s rice puffs (that have no nutritional value, by the way), but only the Gerber ones.  Plum and Happy Baby? No way, Jose.
9. Thou shalt drive your mother crazy as she tries to be a short-order cook. Every. Single. Day.
10. Thou shalt constantly remind your mother that pay back is a bitch, as she did this to her own mother and survived solely on baked potatoes and waffles for months on end.  Realize, though, that this is apparently genetic and that your time will come ::insert evil laugh here::

Reasons Why I Cannot Mom Today

Reasons that I cannot Mom today (in no particular order):

It is mother-effing hot as balls outside

You say “Were you not one of the people complaining about how cold the winter was?”  And the answer is, HELL YES BECAUSE IT WAS ALSO MOTHER-EFFING COLD THIS PAST WINTER!!  Caring for children is ideal at 70-80 degree range.  Right now it is 90+ with high humidity and bad air quality, thus not ideal for entertaining the threenager.

My raging hormones are making my skin resemble my teenage years

              Seriously, it’s not just the fact that I have pushed out two humans and possibly stretched my body to the point of no return…and definitely no recovering from the stretch marks.  BUT the skin?  I mean come on UNIVERSE!  I am already bald forgodsake!  Cut me a break!

Because trying to motivate my threenager to potty train is slowly chipping away at my sanity.

              And she starts preschool in 3 months…Buh.

The baby, who is normally a happy traveler, is screaming mad in his car seat today and I want an effing mute button.

              Kids cry.  I know this because it is in my job description to make kids cry often as a Pediatric ER RN for tests, medications, exams, etc.  That being said, I literally never get a break—my life needs a mute button because now that I have two children that basically means that they are hardly happy at the same time.  And at work--we all know that no sick child is happy. Ever.

Because I have run out of my stash of threenager-sized diapers on the main level of my house and need to go up the stairs for the umpteenth time today.

              Before you sanctimommies attack me—I have thankful to have a house, money to afford food and diapers, etc. etc. However, I am thoroughly sick of my townhouse as I hauled my pregnant butt up/down x2 and now hauling two kids in and out is an Olympic event in this house (and add two dogs to this equation occasionally, one of which is completely blind). We are going to get a rancher for our next house because I am DUNZO with stairs.

When I went to run errands today, I didn’t realize that the threenager was not actually buckled into her car seat until I was about to pull out of my neighborhood. 

              I am human. She climbed into her car seat while I was buckling in the baby. I spaced. As I started my career in nursing in a Level 1 Trauma Center PICU, I have encountered several patients where the car seats were not used or used improperly. I know this is not good on a level that most people will never understand.  As soon as I realized it, I started to have flashbacks to the patients I had and felt like a horrible mother who sucks at life.  Sad to say, too, this is the second near-miss moment.  Sometimes we all need help and mine will now be in the form of a reminder post-it on my dash.

And on the subject of child safety:

I momentarily forgot to close the gate on the stairs when returning from the hell-trip that was Target.

              Thankfully my newly crawling son did not notice.  More flashbacks from past patients. Number 2 major oversight of the day.

Because Target.

              Here are the events that transpired written in a run-on paragraph because I really need you to truly grasp the exasperation that I felt after this trip today.  My son was screaming from travel time from Home Depot to Target.  When getting everything ready to go into Target, I told my threenager to move while I closed the tailgate, who then moved directly into the path of my elbow that hit the top of her head. Tears ensued and therefore truly set the tone of the trip.  I am a horrible mother. Crying continued along with various demands/tantrums with requests for items or the ultimate tear inducer of the trip—Mommy’s phone (Sorry kid, needed it for the coupons at checkout).  Threatened, out loud, to put clearance sticker on the threenager and leave her in the baby aisle. Dry humor…hopefully people won’t call CPS on me.  Come home, and things settle after food and quiet time. I put away the bounty…and realize that one of the things I needed to get at Target I did not end up getting. Fucking. Applesauce. GAH!

My threenager has officially given up naps.

              Self-Explanatory.

I am grateful that my kids are so forgiving because I need a lot of love today.  I kind of want to curl up in a ball with a fresh batch of chocolate cookies and wine in a sippy cup…but love and snuggles from my kids will have to do, because I do still need to Mom…even on my bad days.