Author: themunchkinnugget

Flowcharts For Toddlers

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After hearing myself say to my son, “No.  We don’t put our hand in the dog’s butt.” and posting said statement on Facebook, I was inspired by my friend Amber to figure out a way to help toddlers answer the more difficult questions in life.  Often, when saying to Jack, “Don’t lick that!” or “We don’t show our belly button to total strangers, darling.”, he has a very confused expression on his face.  So, after way too much time figuring out how to create flowcharts on free online software, I give you: Flowcharts for Toddlers.  The following should be helpful for your child when a challenging situation arises.  Good luck!

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The Weird Things I Do

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A few minutes ago, someone rang my doorbell.  I will never know who because when my husband is asleep, or not home, and my doorbell rings, I freeze.  I slide down in my chair and refuse to move.  It’s as if there is a t-rex at my door and if I move, he will find me and eat me.  I assume it was someone selling me Jesus or a home security system, but in the back of my mind I can’t help imagining it was a man selling candy from a van who wants to abduct me and my child and take us to his basement and force us to perform show tunes for the next 30 years.  This scenario got me thinking about other weird things I do-and I wonder who else does them.  Is it so weird?  You tell me.  Here are some weird things I do: Continue reading →

Apathy Towards Violence

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Today, as my family and I were driving home, we witnessed a woman break a bottle on the back of another woman’s head.  There were four of them.  My husband’s reaction was to pull over and make sure no one was going to kill anybody.  My reaction was total annoyance, as the ladies were fighting in the middle of road, and I wanted to go home.  I felt nothing.  I barely even acknowledged what had happened. Continue reading →

The Reasons I Cry

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I cry all the time.  I’m not depressed.  I’m actually a pretty happy person.  Life hands me some lemons, but usually it’s all lemonade and smiles around here.  Show me a commercial with the perfect soundtrack and a well developed story line and I’ll show you an admiring consumer attempting to hold back the tears.  You know that really awkward scene in American Beauty?  Where weird guy next door describes the movement of a plastic bag floating around in the wind (pre-Katy Perry, thank you very much) and he starts crying at the beauty of it?  I was right there with him.  Yes, emo-stoner-guy!  Yes!  There is beauty in trash!  Normal isn’t beautiful!  Pain is in beauty and beauty is in PAIN! Continue reading →

A Toast To Second Firsts

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As I sit here watching my beautiful little angel puff attempting to eat his Disney pasta and peas, I can’t help but reminisce of a specific moment in my life.  It was right after my wisdom teeth had been taken out.  I was attempting to feed myself some Kraft Mac and Cheese (THE BEST PASTA IN A BOX EVER), but was so  discombobulated that I couldn’t find my mouth.  It was so frustrating.  I was starving and all I wanted more than anything in the world was the delicious, orange, mushy-ness in my pie hole.  Instead, I stabbed my cheeks repeatedly with four tiny knives like a drunken idiot. Continue reading →

Why My Job And My Facebook Account Are Equally Important

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Today is day seven in a row of BABY.  During the week, I am a stay-at-home mom, but most weekends, I work.  I work for a few reasons.  One, we can use the money.   Two, I need to get out of this house and away from my angel nugget at least once a week.  Jack is my joy.  The moment I leave him, I miss him.  The second I put him to bed, I want to pick him back up and hold him watch him sleep.  When I hear him in the morning, I love walking into his room and seeing his smile as we start our day together.  That being said, as most parents know, I NEED A BREAK. Continue reading →

Mom’s Heart Attacked Her-And Yours Could Too

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A few weeks ago, my husband got a very, very unexpected phone call.  His parents said that they were in the hospital having some tests run because his mother had some unresolved heartburn.  It turns out, she had a heart attack.  She had two major blockages in her heart.  One of them was so large, it required two stents to repair.  When Rick hung up the phone he said, “Mom doesn’t deserve a heart attack.”  What he meant by that was that some people overeat, smoke, or have sedentary lifestyles, but not her.  She hadn’t done anything to warrant a heart attack.  She is young (63) and active with good cholesterol levels and has no history of heart disease in her family-until now.  She sent me a recap of her story.  As she went into depth of her experiences leading up to and after her heart attack, it was clear to me that her symptoms had been there already for months, perhaps years-lingering.  Waiting for the moment to pounce and say, “YOU SHOULD PROBABLY GO TO THE ER, LADY!  I AM DONE PLAYING AROUND!” Continue reading →

10 Things All Moms Ask On Facebook

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Ah!  This is my first guest blog post!  My friend, Kelly Love, suggested I write about the Mommy Boards on Facebook, but I don’t really have experience with them.  I usually just ask Kelly or my other friends for “Momvice”.  So, Kelly decided to write the damned thing herself.  Here it goes:

If you’re a mom these days, chances are you may have joined a mom’s group on facebook. They’re a great resource for new moms who are freaking out about every little thing, if you’re trying to get rid of stuff in the basement, and for advice on illnesses, behaviors, handling in-laws, et cetera. Let’s be real here, the mom group is kind of a God send for everyone, since posts can ask questions about poop, rashes, and other gory kid stuff, and spare the hungover-facebook-friend-from-college from wretching up their 3am Taco Bell, because it’s no longer on their news feed. (I miss you, by the way, friend.) Continue reading →

6 Things My Best Friend And I Did As Kids That Make Me Wonder If Our Parents Were Ever Paying Attention

~ themunchkinnugget ~ 2 Comments

Every once in a while, I’ll have a random flashback to my childhood and go, “What the hell were we THINKING?!”  Especially now, when watching Jack play I like to reminisce of what pretend-time was for me.  I even remember my best friend Sarah and I discussing as children when we didn’t have fun pretending anymore.  It was almost as depressing as finding out “you know who” is really your parents.  We just couldn’t do it.  It wasn’t the same.  I wonder if other kids reached an age where they recognized that their imaginations couldn’t entertain them as well as they used to.  Looking back, some of the things we did for fun was either physically dangerous or psychologically messed up.  It makes me wonder if our parents ever had any idea what the hell we were up to.  Here’s what I mean: Continue reading →

A Day In The Life Of A Full Time Poop Cleaner

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You think you know poop?  You might-but I. Know. Poop.  I was even a poop expert pre-baby.  As a nurse, I can tell alot by your poop.  What medications you take, whether you drink enough water, and-any nurse will agree-whether or not you have C-diff.  I’m not kidding.  I can seriously smell C-diff.  NURSES CAN TELL YOU IF YOU HAVE C-DIFF.  They won’t, though.  Because they aren’t supposed to-but they totally know.

I know what you’re thinking.  “THIS IS DISGUSTING WHY IS SHE TELLING ME THIS?!”  Because I want to warn you.  The story I’m about to share with you is all about poop.  Duh.

At home, I am in charge of the cat’s litter box (on weekdays) and of course, my son’s glorious little diaper gifts.  I take the dogs out once or twice a day.  **I feel like my husband will want you to know that he takes the dogs to the park every day-and that I never take them to the park.  Ever.  And that usually, the dogs are with him when they poop.**  Still, they poop sometimes with me.  I am often the one (due to my husband’s weird sleeping schedule) to clean up animal vomit and what-not.

So, here is what went down yesterday.  I brought my one year old son home from a very long car trip to a restaurant (50 miles away) and then to another restaurant (20 miles away) because the former was closed.  I got the pot roast and for the first time EVER it was awful.  I sent it back for some fried chicken that wasn’t ready until we were about to leave.  The point is, it had been a long day.

I get home and put my son down to get things in the house.  I’ve already given him a bath before dinner in hopes that he would be asleep when we get home.  Nope.  He starts to play and then suddenly stops.  Completely frozen in his familiar “I’m taking a giant dump” pose.  I wait.  As I am changing him, I notice his cute little tushy is a bit red.  I decide to let it air out a little before I put some cream on it and get him ready for bed.

This is when I notice that in the other room, the litter box has been removed 15 feet from its original location.  It is overturned, lid off, and the carpet is covered in poop-filled litter.  There is literally NO litter in the damned box.  We have wooden floors, but of course, as is my dog’s want, all of the litter and its contents are directly on top of the only rug in the entire stupid room.  Instead of getting insanely agitated, I decide to just go in there and clean it up before I even have a chance to feel sorry for myself.  Sometimes, when I have to clean up a mess like this, I get angry with the entire world.  Like God told the dog to go dump out the litter box because I deserve punishment for cursing at the lady who wouldn’t get out of the fast lane yesterday.

So, I clean it up.  Scoop the poop.  Throw it out.  Sweep the room.  Vacuum the rug.  Return the litter box.  Then, I go back to the den to get my baby ready for bed so I can CHILL THE HELL OUT.

As I walk into the den, I notice a familiar smell.  I wonder, “Is that just because I just scooped poop?  Nope.  That is definitely toddler poop.  Perhaps, it is from the diaper I changed when we got home.”  (Yes.  I really do wonder to myself like that.)  NOPE.  My sweet little angel has just had diarrhea in two separate locations of the room.  The fully carpeted room.  The child, who JUST took a dump and usually doesn’t take another dump immediately after, has pooped ALL OVER THE CARPET.  Oh, well.  This one is totally on me.  I’ll just throw a diaper on him, put his PJs on and off to bed he goes while I clean this up.  Right?  NOPE.

First, I wipe his precious little behind, then I slap a diaper on him, and as I pick him up to put his pajamas on him, I notice the bottom of his feet.  Both of them.  You’ll never guess what it was.  Kidding.  You will.  It was poop.  MORE POOP.  At this point, it is on baby AND mommy.  To the bath we go.

Thirty minutes later, we are both clean and ready for bed.  I put him in his crib and thank you JESUS he immediately lays down like “Thanks, Mom.  Today was exhausting.  Holla.”

I’m feeling a little better.  Calmer.  Cleaner.  I walk back into the den ready to relax when something mushy and wet on the bottom of my foot quietly reminded me that “UM. DUH. THE WHOLE REASON YOU JUST TOOK A BATH WITH YOUR BABY IS BECAUSE HE DROPPED A MAJOR DEUCE ON YOUR DEN FLOOR .”  I wash my feet.  I clean the carpet.   I am done for the day.  I finally give up on life and go to bed.  Tomorrow is a new day-and hey-shit happens.