How to Live with Toddlers

How to Live With Toddlers

Living with two children aged 4 and under, I can now say I know what it is like to live with miniature assholes. (It’s okay to say that you know. I don’t actually refer to my children as assholes…well at least not to their face). 2-4 year olds are the absolute worst. Sure they can be cute, and loving, and awesome, but they literally can do NOTHING on their own. They need help with everything and sometimes they give up trying all together. There is nothing worse than trying to dress your 2 year old when they have gone all “limp noodle” on you. They also spend most of their day in tears or causing others to be. And the screaming, my gosh the screaming. My kids scream for everything-food, toys, just because. It is the closest I’ll ever be to living in an insane asylum. Now I know I can’t be the only one who hides in the pantry to get away from their toddlers, so I have thought of some ways to make life a tad bit easier. You’re welcome.

1) Toddler snacks are really your snacks. When I am hiding in my pantry I sometimes like to eat my toddler’s snacks. I feel so much better just sitting on my step stool and slamming a Bear Paw. It’s almost like a little payback or “I’ll get back at you for that tantrum. We shall see how funny it is when all your animal crackers are gone.” Try it. Completely liberating. Plus who are we kidding? I totally buy Teddy Grahams for myself to eat when the kids go to bed.

2) Stop cleaning. Seriously. I have found Kraft Dinner is much easier to pick up off the floor when it has dried. Those Cheerios scattered all over your floor will get eaten eventually. Secretly just throw your kids shitty McDonald’s toys/half crayons/any toy that has annoying music, in the trash when they go to bed. They’ll never know. You will get so used to the fingerprints all over your windows that you won’t remember a time when they weren’t there. Embrace the aisles of scattered Legos and Hot Wheels in your living room. It’s good exercise to try and squat and lunge around those death machines so you don’t kill yourself stepping on them.

3) Enforce naptime like your life depends on it. Both my boys nap right after lunch whether they want to or not. No negotiation. No, “but I’m not tired”. My response is always the same, “lie down and pretend you are.” Those 2 hours are what gets me through life at this point. Don’t try and clean or even shower. No one likes a martyr. Lie on the couch and sleep or watch TV. They invented Febreeze and deodorant for moms with young children.

4) Stop worrying about mealtime. Realize now that your toddlers will most likely only eat bread, so just tell yourself that they are getting all their fruits and veggies at daycare and your job is simply to get through a meal without it being thrown on the floor. Throw in those Flintstones vitamins and you’re golden. Cereal, popsicles, and yogurt tubes are also great fillers to keep your kids entertained while you cry your way through your salad.

5) Life is not a fashion show. Little kids, especially boys, only like sweatpants and shirts with cartoon characters on them. Stop trying to dress them in suspenders and bow ties like they are off to a photo shoot. Velcro shoes, sweats, and ratty t-shirts are a toddler’s uniform. They shouldn’t even make jeans for children under 5. Well except for baby jeans; those are cute.

6) Divide and conquer. If you have more than one child it’s important to let your partner know that no matter what, if you leave the house, for any reason, you are to take one child with you. My boys are a thousand times more work when they are together (you know the lack of sharing, arguing, “it’s not fair” complaints, etc.). So separating them is not only ideal, but necessary. Going to get an oil change? Take a kid. Visiting a friend? Take a kid. Going golfing? Unless you are playing in The Masters, you are taking a kid. My husband and I don’t have a lot of rules for each other, but this is one of them and if I cry enough my husband will give in and take both kids. Just proves that he will do just about anything to get out of cleaning bathrooms (which I only clean because, well, husband, boys, urine…you get it).

7) Embrace cartoons. Accept them as part of your daily circuit. Cartoons are the ONLY reason I can shower and even then I usually have to yell something like, “I am still in here! Just wait until I get out. You better not be the one making your brother cry, but I know that you are.” You get the picture. I have certain shows PVR’d for emergency purposes and I’m not afraid to admit that Daniel Tiger’s Neighbourhood was how I potty trained my oldest (seriously You Tube the potty episode…you won’t be sorry). Child having a meltdown? Cartoons. Need to make dinner? Cartoons. Need to sleep off a hangover? Cartoons in the form of a movie. Bless you, Walt Disney. Bless you.

8) The word “no”. You will say it all day and so will your toddler. My youngest uses the word so much he now uses it as a response to most things. “Good Morning!” = “No”. “Let’s put away all your cars and go to the park”= “No” (but he means yes). “You are the cutest little thing!”= “No”. “Want a fruit snack?”= “No”….wait for it…”Yes please yes”. I think he co-wrote that Meghan Trainor song “No” as his name is in fact, no. He also screams the word as if he is on fire. I have tried to stop saying the word myself, but in panic mode to prevent a disaster, it just comes out. Except I usually throw in a few other choice words like “For the love of everything NO!!”, “What the hell? NO!!!”, or “FML…NO!!!” I guess he comes by it honestly.

9) Car Rides. My advice would be to not even attempt a long trip (and by long anything over an hour and a half). Have that wedding to attend this summer a 10 hour car ride away? Unless you leave your kids with someone else, you are not going. Until sedatives are legal for toddlers I am really not interested. If there is no way around it and you absolutely HAVE to go you should probably have the following on hand: Road snacks (a higher level up from regular snacks. So instead of dry Cheerios in a cup they get Froot Loops, instead of no name crackers they get Oreos, you get the idea), an assortment of cartoons (pull out the big guns here…Paw Patrol, PJ Masks, stay away from Arthur or that show that looks like they used graph paper to animate it), books, crayons, headphones (for both child and parent), and a triple dose of anti-depressants. You will most likely have to stop at a McDonald’s play place. Embrace it. Get that Big Mac…you’ve earned it. Whatever you do, don’t resort to putting in a cd of children’s music. Nothing will make you lose the will to live more than listening to “Wheels on the Bus” 47 times. Stay strong and remember that nothing lasts forever (well the memories might but I hear hypnotherapy works wonders).

10) Being in Public. Going anywhere with young children (even that quick trip to the grocery store) can turn disastrous almost instantly. Honestly, there is nothing worse than being in a crowded store with 2 screaming children. Even though accidents happen (poop explosion ’16 happened in a grocery cart) or misfortunate events (my son threw up in the middle of a crowded swimming pool) it is still not easy to handle with complete strangers watching (some of them with pity, others with looks of shock and horror). I do have certain rules for certain places. The grocery store: one treat per child that will be given out at the check-out lane while I spend most of the shopping trip threatening to take the treat away. Restaurants: will only go if there will be a grandparent in attendance. Toys R Us: hahahaha as if. Shopping malls: One has to be in a stroller and the other one on dad’s shoulders for a maximum time of 30 minutes. Make every attempt to avoid the foot court at all costs. Movie/Play/Concert: If you can’t sit in a seat for at least 20 minutes without crying/screaming/trying to escape, then you are not going. Doctor’s office: Well this is a must so I usually bring the I-pad and let my kids watch videos or they can bug all of the other patients in the office and destroy all the pamphlets in the waiting room. People find that adorable.

The good news is most people understand how unpredictable and sometimes volatile toddlers can be. I understand those feelings of never wanting to leave the house because it very well could end up being a disaster. But you must. You must take off your couch pants and slippers and enter the outside world with those precious little assholes of yours. And while you are home with them don’t forget how much eating a sleeve of Oreos or drinking wine out of a box can ease your pain. Take solace in the fact that toddlers are so cute for a reason. Well at least that is what people tell me.

CB

How to Decide on Baby #3

I have two kids. Both boys. They drive me insane. I long for a girl. I really want someone to go shopping with, go to musicals, have coffee dates and tea parties, you know girly shit. I realize I’ll make my boys do these things whether they want to or not, but I know it won’t be the same. I know that a girl would still call her mom after the age of 18, where my boys will probably forget I ever existed. Boys just don’t call their moms the way that girls do. Boys don’t tell their moms that they are their “best friend” when they are adults. My husband always comments on those contestants on reality shows who cry uncontrollably when they get to see a loved one after being on an island for like 20 days. He is always like, “I can go 3 months without talking to my mom, let alone seeing her. I don’t understand how they are so emotional over seeing their mom.” Case in point. A girl would miss her mom if she was stuck on an island filming a television show I’ll tell you that much.

Even though I hated every single moment of both pregnancies, had two C-sections (which totally suck by the way), had two very unhappy colicky newborns, who just so happened to be boys, it actually wasn’t a simple decision to decide on whether or not to have a 3rd baby. I mean I do love my boys and would certainly be happy to have another member added to our family (#blessed). And let’s be honest, I would relish the thought of having a girl. So for anyone who may be grappling with this decision here’s my “How To” list on deciding whether you should “pull the goalie” and go for it. (For the record, I hate that expression, but my husband used it so much the last few years it has become a part of my vernacular. My apologies.)

1) Age: When you have a pregnancy after the age of 35 they call it a geriatric pregnancy. GERIATRIC. Like as in old people. This factor alone makes me not want to. I mean I don’t have liver spots for goodness sake. I don’t order off the senior’s menu or spend my afternoons playing backgammon (although that would be pretty sweet). I certainly don’t feel like listening to my doctor use the word geriatric for the next 9 months. I’ll pass.

2) Pregnancy: I’ve said it already, but I literally hated every second/minute/hour of both pregnancies. That “glow” people talk about? Never had it. I was also the size of a large house with both boys and would often lie about my due date. People love to ask you when you are due and if you are carrying twins when you are pregnant and large, which is super awesome. It would be December and someone would ask if I was preparing for a “Christmas baby” and I’d be all like “Yeah might come the same night as Santa…hahaha”. Nope I was due in March. The last three months of my pregnancies I would routinely tell people that I was due “any day now”. Unless you are one of those people who you can’t even tell they are pregnant until the last month and then they look like a stunning Thyme Maternity model, you shouldn’t comment on how someone looks during pregnancy. The way that I was feeling when I was pregnant I would have seriously punched someone in the face if one more person asked me if “I was sure there was just one in there”.

3) The Birth: For some women birth is a magical experience. The birth of my 1st son was nothing short of traumatic. 12 hours of labour followed by an emergency C-section to cap off being awake for 48 hours. The. Worst. The recovery from that was enough to make me never want to go near my husband again let alone have another one. With my 2nd son it was a scheduled C-section, which is a cake walk in comparison, but still major surgery and still not a very fun recovery. The highlight of the birth of my 2nd son was more that it felt like a vacation where I didn’t have to cook or clean for a few days and get a break from my very active 2 year old. I also knew what to expect this time. The first time around my husband was so worried about his “sleeping arrangements” at the hospital that I just about killed him. The second time I told him it was about me and the baby and I don’t care if he doesn’t sleep for days because he is to be at my beckon call and change all of those meconium diapers. Thinking back those two days at the hospital were blissful. The actual birth part though, not so much. The doctor asked me three different times (while popping his head out of that curtain they put up) if I wanted to “close up the shop” since the hood was already up. Ugh is there not a better way to ask that or not at all?

4) Newborns: My experience with newborns has not been pleasant. My boys were horrendous newborns. My older son cried morning, noon, and night and was full of gas (he takes after his dad). Add in the fact that I had literally no idea what I was doing and it was nothing short of a disaster. A disaster that lasted 4 months. At this point I’m sure you are surprised that I even had a 2nd. I am too. I guess I’d rather just have another baby and stop all the questions of “When are you having another”? It seems like people like to ask that question like minutes after giving birth. Seriously? My next son was actually a worse newborn than my first. He threw up constantly and was a terrible eater (and believe me the jokes my husband always made that he was bulimic got old real fast). These memories are seared into my brain. Those months with my newborns were the most draining months of my life. The thought of doing that again….well I’d rather sell fruit at intersections. I know they grow out of it, but combine a pregnancy and newborn period and that is OVER A YEAR… and then there are all those years that come after that. As someone who is currently going through “the terrible two’s” for the third year in a row I’m not really sure that things are all that much better now.

5) Cost: In 2016 it’s expensive to have kids. Between daycare, school, sports, food, etc. I don’t think we could afford a 3rd. For real. Maybe I’m super selfish, but being able to go to Vegas for a long weekend or go on an all-inclusive vacation to get away from the children I do have, seems like a better use of my finances.

6) The Man Surgery: Well anyone whose husband has had a vasectomy knows that dealing with your husband after the fact is literally like going through having another baby. The moaning, crying, “take care of me” wailing, etc. is a tad ridiculous. Because you know what happened after my C-sections? I was handed a newborn that needs 24 hour care, not a weekend lying in bed watching sports. I was so annoyed with my husband by the end of the weekend I swear I could have given him the vasectomy myself.

7) Purging of the Baby Items: I kind of knew that perhaps I was done having kids when the minute my 2nd child outgrew something I had it on Varage Sale (virtual garage sale for those that don’t know about my addiction). Oh that shirt is too small? Sell it. Haven’t played with that toy in 3 days? Sold. I could not get rid of that shit fast enough. I swear there is nothing more rewarding than getting that oversized jumperoo out of the centre of my living room. Good riddance.

8) The 3rd Born: Now we need to state one very important fact here. I am a third born. Can you even imagine if my mom decided she was happy with her boy and girl? (yes she had one of both and decided to keep going). I know. Inconceivable. I think about that often. What if I don’t let the world in on what could be the dream child that so many 3rd children turn out to be? Then I realized that my 1st born is exactly like me and I’m not sure I want to roll the dice and have yet another Mini Me. I may be awesome, but I am also a lot to handle as my son proves to me on a daily basis. He may look like his dad, but that personality of his? All me and we both know it.

9) All Boys: One day I came back from the grocery store to find my husband and 2 boys sitting in their underwear (and diaper) watching golf on TV. That right there is all you need to know about why the thought of 4 males in my house terrifies me. Well that and realizing that my bathroom will always smell of urine.

10) House Full of Love: This reason right here is actually why this was even a decision in the first place. So far there are so many reasons not to, but this one right here would make it worth it. Girl, boy, whatever, it wouldn’t matter as long as we had another child to love. Shit. Sorry I am getting all soft and mushy mom here. I will resume my normal, sarcastic, cold hearted self. My apologies.

Ultimately after very little deliberation, my husband and I decided that our little family is perfect the way it is. (Dammit mushy mom again….I’ll quit I swear). I’ll just kidnap my nieces and make them do fun girly shit with their poor auntie who lives in a house full of boys and has to clean her bathrooms five times a day. Plus my husband is still insistent on having a child and naming him Frank. Yup safe to say that is a wrap on the “should we or shouldn’t we” debate. Case closed.

Up next: A special segment entitled “20 things my kids cried about this week”

CB

How To Throw a Child’s Birthday Party

If I were to tell you what my number one fear was when becoming a parent I’m sure you would guess either 1) keeping a helpless infant alive 2) sleepless nights with said helpless infant or 3) how to place a helpless infant into one of those godforsaken baby slings. However, the real answer is birthday parties. Before my 1st son was even born I worried about the planning, administering, conducting of, everything to do with having a successful birthday party. Seriously, this stressed me out.

I am not creative. I loathe Pinterest. I hate going to other children’s birthday parties. I don’t even want to go to my own child’s birthday party. But this year my son was turning 4. A 4 year old is starting to have actual friends and not just children I force him to play with because they have the same pant size. Not to mention, he is at an age where he might remember that he didn’t get to have a birthday party when he turned 4 because “mommy is lazy”, or whatever he will tell his future therapist.

The year before, when he was 3, I invited my friends’ children (once again from forced playdates) and did “Pancake and Pyjamas” theme, an idea I clearly stole from someone on Facebook who obviously trolls Pinterest like it’s her job. It went over well and of course I took complete credit and then suggested the idea to others like I came up with it on my own. Obviously. This year was going to be different though. I was going to have to invite children I did not really know. Children who have parents who could possibly judge me for not having enough crafts/songs/life lessons about sharing involved in this birthday party. I know I shouldn’t care about moms judging other moms, but y’all know it happens! I am still sensitive about not nursing my second child and affiliating that with why he grunts and points instead of talks, so back off!

I asked my son what he wanted to do for a theme and gently (with a bit of desperation) suggested we could do the same thing as last year because it was so much fun! Pancakes! Pyjamas! Extra syrup! No dice. Instead he replied, “Let’s do cake and clothes instead”. Helpful. So naturally I resorted to a Paw Patrol theme because that’s what all the other 4 years olds are doing (hey there is plenty of time for him to set his own path in life and be an individual and all that other crap).

So if you want to know exactly how to tackle that dreaded birthday party, I have some pointers. The first hurdle is the invitations. Right here is where things can get out of hand. Do I invite the whole class? Do I invite all the random kids in the neighborhood? More importantly, how many kids can I have in my home without inducing heart palpations? According to my husband, the answer is 3, but clearly I have to invite those kids that will make my child happy. You know because I am such a good mom.

Next, you need to think about the food. I know it’s annoying that you have to feed them. Obviously, I’ll order a mediocre cake from the grocery store the night before. I’ll assume that they can make a cake in the shape of one of the Paw Patrol dogs and hope for the best. (They don’t by the way…have to settle for a “Happy Birthday” written in icing). I suppose I could have done that myself, but I don’t bake and now is not the time to pretend that I do. Bless you if you saw the Pinterest post for Thomas the Train cupcakes using real trains and Kit Kat bars, but I’m not interested in that shit. Partly because I don’t see the necessity and partly because kids would eat cake served on the floor because IT’S CAKE. Maybe I am tainted because my children would happily eat food out of the garbage (oh and they have), but to me cake is cake. I also know enough to plan a birthday party between the hours of 2-4 so that all I have to serve is cake and a few juice boxes. I might put out of bag of chips on the counter, which would just be for me to eat while I watch children terrorize my home. Keep it simple and just make sure you don’t open the booze until the children leave (or at least until you can say “It’s 5 o’clock somewhere” when a parent gives you the evil eye).

Now here’s the thing. I’m a bit of a cheap ass. Shocker. That’s why I won’t buy/make some specialty cake. That is also why I figured having my child’s party in my own home would also be cheaper. But with having a home party comes the need to entertain and have games planned. Again, it’s because I’m supermom. I highly recommend having a plan here people. Don’t think you can “wing” this….that my friends, is a rookie mistake. So I had some crafts planned (paper bag puppets…not my first rodeo) and these foam dinosaur kits I got from the dollar store (double points there for cheapness). I had them ready just in case. I was hoping the kids would just run around and play. Nope they all loved the idea of a craft when my son spilled the beans about me buying glue, which could only mean one thing. Glue=messy craft=so much fun. Shoot. Me. Now. Crafts with 3 and 4 year olds (and my 22 month old to boot) is basically you making it for them while all the other kids scream at you “I need help”. “I want eyes on my puppy”.” I want to make a dragon that breathes real fire”. “Where is the glitter? I am not making anything unless you get me glitter.” And on and on it goes. This is the point where this two hour birthday party feels like it’s been 2 years. Two years in prison. Perhaps it would be better to make a bunch of puppets ahead of time and let them randomly put on stickers. I’ll let you know how that goes over next year.

After the craft and signing of “Happy Birthday” and eating of cake, there is the matter of the presents. Anyone with a young child has that fear. You know what I’m talking about. That fear that your child will throw a tantrum at the present they received, or god forbid ignore the gift entirely. Of course I spoke to my son (well we rehearsed a very well thoughtful and meaningful message) before the party to make sure he was thankful and appreciative. I suppose I was fearful about the story my mom tells about my brother’s 3rd birthday where he opened all his presents and told everyone he didn’t like any of them. Oh the horror! And that was back in the days when parents didn’t attend parties with their kids or if they did they sat in the kitchen smoking cigarettes and drinking Diet Coke. If your child does throw a fit at not liking a particular gift, I would simply throw out the old cliché “Kids will be kids”, or something along those lines and immediately fake an emergency that requires you anywhere but in that room.

Once you finish making your child hug every child at the party and look them directly in their eyes and say “Thank You”, you are just counting down the minutes until either the parents come to pick up their child or the parents that stayed get the hint that you want them out of your house. Just remember that this will soon end and you will be able to crack open that 8 dollar bottle of wine knowing that you deserve it because you are “Mom of the Year”! Don’t forget the goody bags though. Oh yes, the treat bag every child wants, but no parent appreciates having in their house. All goody bags are the same. Cheap ass toys from the dollar store, recycled pencils from every other birthday party, an organic, nut/peanut/ gluten free snack that will boost your child’s immune system, and stickers/tattoos that you will most likely toss in the trash when your child is not looking. I suppose it is a nice way to say “Thanks for coming to my birthday party”, but truly isn’t the joy of making your own paper bag puppet enough? It isn’t, so just give in and make up the goody bags with the above mentioned necessities and save yourself the criticism you will receive if you don’t do it. Then you are home free and you can relish in the fact that there will be 364 days until you have to do it again (unless you have more than one kid and you will likely have to do it again in like another month).

Oh and while we’re at it can we just can all the bullshit holidays please? You know what we used to get for Valentine’s Day? Yes that’s right…Valentine’s. That’s it. You know what we used to do for St. Patrick’s Day? NOTHING. That isn’t a thing until you are old enough to drink green beer. We did not have “Elf on the Shelf” at Christmas time. We had a “you better be good or you’ll be in trouble with dad” lecture that lasted all damn year. Christmas was one day, not three weeks of super fun surprises every damn day. You know what that clever little Easter bunny left us? Jelly beans and those giant chocolate bunnies that would accumulate a village in my parent’s deep freeze. So can we just go back to this please? I am far too lazy to add any more shit to my already shitty plate.

I vote that we make the birthday party and all holidays and non-holidays alike a much more simple affair. My birthday parties as a kid were the same every year. We went swimming at the local hotel pool and came back to my house for pizza and cake. And you know what? I loved it. I didn’t feel slighted because my mom didn’t spend $500 at Dino Bouncers. My mom is just like me…Mom of the Year…well at least in my kids’ eyes I am and that is all that matters anyways.

Next Post: How to decide on Baby #3 (Did we or didn’t we??)

C.B

How to figure me out…

Hey you! Yes you! Welcome to my blog! I wanted to introduce you all to what has been labelled as 2016’s New Year’s Resolution (3 months late….awesome start). I figured I’d try my hand at blogging since I need to jump on the “be your boss, work from home, earn extra income” bandwagon. So what the hell can I start that could lead to a home business? I don’t wear jewelry. I am more than happy to use the same skin cleanser I have used since I was 15. I don’t care about expensive Tupperware that I don’t even have room for. However, I have always wanted to have a forum where I could express my hilarious ideas and search for validation from complete strangers or people I haven’t seen or heard from since Grad ’97. Plus I get really really bored.

The first thing I needed to do after setting up my blog was to think about what I wanted it to be about. Obviously there are many facets that make up who I am, but I didn’t want to hone in on one particular part and write just about that. Therefore, I have decided to make this blog more of a “How To” blog where I impart my infinite wisdom on a complete gamut of subjects and pretend that I am a complete expert on everything. If you are not fluent in sarcasm I do suggest that you quit reading this immediately. I have no time for hurt feelings or anyone thinking I am remotely serious in half of what I say. Purely entertainment. I figure this introduction to all things Carmen and my wonderful blog entitled “Funny Girl Problems and How to Solve Them” should include a list of the most important points on how to get to know me.

1) The Basics: I have been married for six years and have two boys aged 4 and 2. Please stop asking me if we are “trying for a girl”. I tried for a girl 2 other times and ended up with boys. Don’t get me wrong. I love my boys and all that crap, but when I see my friends who have girls and post pictures of them reading quietly together and colouring nicely at a table, it enrages me. My boys run around without pants and try and cage match each other all day long. Also, don’t tell me that I will be happy I have boys when they are teenagers. That is like a decade from now, which in mom terms is like forty lifetimes. Plus, I will need to refinance my mortgage just to feed them….sounds like a dream.

2) I have a full time job as a teacher therapist, and even though this will disappoint many, I will not blog about my awesome and sometimes hilarious job. Sorry, but people get fired for that shit.

3) I don’t do my hair. I mean I wash it and stuff; I’m not disgusting, but my hair has looked the exact same since I was 2 years old. Part down the middle, semi long, blonde, and most likely in a half ponytail or pulled back in a headband. That, in a nutshell, says mostly everything you really need to know about me.

4) My least favourite personality type is high maintenance dumb people who think they are smart and low maintenance. You all know them (and sadly for some are related to them…but not me of course), and will agree with me that there is nothing worse. I would rather lick a fly swatter than spend an afternoon with someone who knows everything about everything, but would have trouble completing the skill testing question in McDonald’s Monopoly.

5) I love House Hunters, but hate House Hunters International. I love peas, but hate pea soup. Sometimes life is confusing.

6) When I was a child I wanted to grow up and be a maid. Kirk Cameron’s maid, but a maid nonetheless. Now I want to be on that show “Hoarding: Buried Alive”. Not as one of the hoarders, but as one of those people who have to wear Hazmat suits to clean out people’s houses of dead cats. I love decluttering and cleaning out people’s houses (and really I have only been allowed to clean out my mom’s since other people think “it’s weird” for me to start going through their stuff), but I always think this could be another career path for me. If you think you may require my services, just know that I charge by the hour and will resell most of your items on Varage Sale and keep the profits. Seems fair.

7) I have quite a few ridiculous fears. I know that they are illogical and random, but these are literally the things that keep me up at night: being attacked by wild dogs(or just regular dogs sitting on your couch looking out the window and barking at me), being forced fed mushrooms out of can (in fairness, this one actually happened…scarred for life), the fact that McDonald’s pizza was not popular enough to keep it on the menu and I may never again experience that deliciousness, making a meal in the crock pot and leaving it unattended for 10 hours in an empty house where the potential for fire seems imminent ( I mean seriously how do people do this??), being forced to do a job where I have to operate heavy machinery, and ordering any type of food over the phone (seriously this is a thing).

8) I do have a legitimate talent. I can remember people’s birthdays. If you are from my hometown (well even if you’re not I tell everyone I meet that I can do this) you would have heard about how I’m the girl who remembers birthdays. I can tell you what day of the week your birthday will fall on each year, what I did on that particular day, who else has a birthday the same day as you, etc. There was a 60 Minutes episode about this once and they referred to this type of ability as Superior Autobiographical Memory. For each person it can be something different. The one guy they interviewed could remember every single stat from his favourite football team. I can’t do that, but mainly because I absolutely have no interest in football. However, for some reason birthdays and dates in general are just kind of my forte. My husband thinks there is a market for this type of talent. However, I’m not so sure a good memory has helped me out at all. If anything it makes me super annoyed when people don’t remember things/events/MY ANNIVERSARY (for an example) when I so easily can. Perhaps this is the cross I have to bear.

9) I love television. I really do. I actually hate people who say “I hate tv” or “I don’t have time to watch tv” or “I’d just rather read a book.” Oh quit acting like you’re better than me and binge watch a series on Netflix already. Netflix seriously has changed my life. When I was sick with strep throat last month I watched the entire season of Fuller House in one day (Please no judgement….many of you had it set on your calendars too). Reality tv though is probably my personal favourite. Mainly because I long to be on Big Brother (but nothing else….too old to be on The Bachelor (well that and I’m married), I would never be able to do the challenges on Survivor, I would probably cry through The Amazing Race because I would yell at my partner for being so incompetent, and I’d be laughed off any cooking show with my signature Kraft Dinner and hot dogs dish). And let’s face it….when you have small children tv is the only friend you really have.

10) While I am a self-proclaimed expert on many things, there are some things I truly know nothing about. Most of these things are an embarrassment not only to myself, but to those people who did not teach them to me in the first place (sorry parents). I never knew that cars needed oil changes until I literally had no oil in my car and it quit working. I always thought that the question mark on town welcome signs meant “we don’t know what else is in this town” instead of the obvious “Information”. I have never operated a lawn mower. When I go to the hairdresser and she says “What would you like to do today?” I always say, “’you choose” because I literally have no idea what to say (see #3). It took me like 5 years to learn how to merge in traffic. The list goes on and on. But don’t worry, I will learn how to do those things I have not mastered and fill you in.

My plan is to update my blog at least once a month. I hope you enjoy it and it makes you laugh. That my friends, is all I am really looking for:)

Next post: How to throw a child’s birthday party (when you really, really hate them)

-CB