WTF Was Wrong with Little Red?

Little Red

It’s Fairy Tale week in Munchie’s class. In last night’s daily recap email, his teacher explained, “I changed the story so that it was not so morbid with grandma getting eaten. Our grandma got put into the closet because the wolf wanted the basket of muffins and cookies.”

Um – I’m sorry… YOU DID WHAT? As if the story isn’t already screwy enough – you have this “free range kid” running about the forest ALONE to get to her grandmother’s house. I’m sorry – did any helicopter parents call the police and report her parents to CPS? Because if this were my neck of the “woods,” someone surely would have reported such activities to law enforcement and they would have helicopters circling the area to search for that kid before Snitchy Susan so much as hung up the phone – and surely before she had a chance to tweet about it.

Alright – so we are lead to believe a wolf saw Red, intuitively knew where she was heading, beat her to  the Grandmother’s house, gobbled up locked Grandma in the closet, figured out how to put on Grandma’s glasses and night-gown, and crawled up in bed. Yeah – totally plausible.

But wait – it gets better. This kid shows up, busts through the door with her basket of goodies, and then believes that a WOLF is her GRANDMOTHER?!?!?! I’m sorry – was this child on DRUGS? I was all concerned about her running amuck in the forest by her lonesome self – but good gravy! THIS CHILD IS ON DRUGS! (Perhaps someone dropped ecstasy into her bag while she was trick or treating?)

Let’s be honest – in this type of situation you have two options (well, three – but the third is death, so we are skipping that one). Option #1 – RUN! You run as fast as your tiny little feet will take you… and then call animal control. Option #2 – KILL THE WOLF! Granny lives in the middle of the woods – she surely has weapons. Also – Red is a country kid from back in the day – she knows how to hunt. I’m nearly certain of it. Had she played her cards right, she may have been able to trade in her little red poncho for a nice fur coat – and some wolf stew.

Then again, seeing as Red was most likely high out of her mind – she probably hallucinated the whole thing, locked Granny in the closet, and then went to town on those (perfect pun) “baked” goods because she had the munchies.

Children should be terrified of manipulative animals who gobble up grandparents. I don’t buy the whole story… And I certainly don’t believe there’s a moral of any sort… Other than wild animals will eat your face off and drugs are bad.


Turns out there is a moral to this story. Brace yourselves.

Moral: Children, especially attractive, well-bred young ladies, should never talk to strangers, for if they should do so, they may well provide dinner for a wolf. I say “wolf,” but there are various kinds of wolves. There are also those who are charming, quiet, polite, unassuming, complacent, and sweet, who pursue young women at home and in the streets. And unfortunately, it is these gentle wolves who are the most dangerous ones of all.

Source: Andrew Lang, The Blue Fairy Book (London, ca. 1889), pp. 51-53. Lang’s source: Charles Perrault, Histoires ou contes du temps passé, avec des moralités: Contes de ma mère l’Oye (Paris, 1697).

That One Time I Got a Job and Totally Neglected My Blog

A Real Boy

I’d be lying if I said a certain amount of guilt hasn’t kicked in. My memory is the equivalent of apples that have been mashed into sauce… with a little spilled on the floor and gobbled up by the dog… never to return. In a sense, my blog is our “book” of memories, our baby book, the timeline of Munchie’s milestones, bloopers, and the grand adventures of parenting (and life in general).

So – instead of moping around about it – I’m going to do my best to do something I RARELY do. I’m going to photo dump and narrate, in an effort to catch everyone (including myself) up on recent(ish) events. And… here we go – in no particular order…

Bike with Gram

Bike Ride with Gram – Freaking LOVED it… didn’t even complain about the helmet. Looking forward to many more biking adventures!

Blurry Ice Cream
Sometimes the blurry pictures are the best – because they capture the laughter and silliness in all its splendor. I believe this was a late night ice cream date with Gram.

Bubby is teaching Munchie to read words and match them to pictures… fingers crossed that this leads to a full ride to college.

We spend a LOT of time at church. Munchie goes to school there, I work there… he thinks we live there. It’s a whole thing.

Sometimes, you just need some coffee on a blustery autumn morning. Unless you are two – then you get donuts.

And… sometimes you just need to eat a raw eggplant at the Farmer’s Market? This is probably one of my favorite things Munchie does… eating raw veggies. Over the summer, he would hike out to his vegetable garden (at the farm… well, he wouldn’t hike to the farm… but once we were there he would trek out to his garden), snap a squash off the vine, plop down… and just eat the freaking thing! Good thing Papaw and Bubby don’t spray those plants with pesticides!

family reunion
Family reunion at the shore – CHECK! It should be noted that, while we spent a week at Myrtle Beach over the summer, he didn’t start talking about the “beach” until we went to the family reunion.

fire truck
Fire truck came to visit school! Something to note here – I had to gray-scale this image because someone has snot on his face. People without kids – you do not know the struggle… and it is VERY VERY VERY REAL. Kids are like faucets. Something is always leaking out of an orifice. Yes, it’s gross… but it’s life… and boogers WILL show up in photos. Get over it.

Seeing as Bubby and Papaw keep their house, barn, etc warm with wood burning stoves – Munchie learned EXTREMELY early that fire is HOT. Naturally, if something is hot… you should blow on it. And… that’s what he’s doing here. Please note: If we come to visit and you have a candle burning… this kid is going to figure out a way to blow it out. “Fire! Hot! Danger! Blow Out!”

Because sometimes you have to go to Mommy’s appointments and the only toys they have are 150 years old. (Also… he’s a genius.)

Great Grand Parents
Visiting Munchie’s Great Grandparents… where he was fed copious amounts of sugar… and was allowed to pick the M&M’s off donuts so he could have chocolate. (Goober.)

After a couple of days home sick, be figured he would just help himself to the popsicles. Nothing in my house is safe from our tiny climber.

Leading Horses
Still a big fan of helping out on the farm. Ironically, he will get closer to the horses in the field than he will in the barn, where they are gated in. I guess he prefers animals in their natural habitat.

Not Candy
Oh – YES! The day he tried to sneak candy, only to unwrap his precious bounty and find a tampon. Yes, sometimes disappointment is punishment enough. He did have fun swinging it around on his way to the trashcan.

Okay, admittedly – this is where I start to get choked up. Papaw (that’s my father in law) is the relative Munchie talks about most often (with the exception of Duke, one of Papaw’s dogs). While no one could ever replace my dad, or the relationship he would have had with my son, I couldn’t have asked, hoped, wished, or prayed for a more loving grandfather for my kid than Papaw. He teaches Munchie all sorts of things, sneaks him treats, and spoils him with incredible amounts of love and laughter. I’m thankful for all of our family members and their love for my little guy… and the way they keep my dad’s memory alive… and love on Munchie… and teach him all the things Pap (that’s my dad) would have wanted him to know.

Okay… wipe your eyes… I’m done.

picture day
This is my kid on school picture day – a ploy to get parents to spend every dime they have on the child(ren) they think is/are the most adorable people in the world. (Though we all know there can only be one most adorable child… and that’s mine.)

Oh yeah, we got a potty… and sometimes sit on it while we watch TV. Also – for posting this picture, I’m going to be adding several hundred dollars to his future therapy fund. He’ll sit on “Mommy’s big potty”… but only if we blow bubbles. He’s peed once… and I am about to make a bumper sticker to brag about it. (Take that honor students – my kid can pee in a friggin potty!)

saving the world
Helping Seed of Life bag food for families in need. Serving is so important to our family and a BIG part of my dad’s legacy. I’m so excited Munchie has the opportunity to make a difference at such a young age… in this case… feeding families in our community.

Teeth – there are so many teeth. We stopped naming those damn things after the first few. Now there are just a LOT of them… and he’s still getting more. FYI – molars are a b*tch.

strep test
Strep Test – which he hated with a passion, but was very proud of himself for living through… and he really enjoyed reenacting. These were a staple of my childhood and I felt horrible for him… but also saw it as a right of passage. Trooper Bish.

I told you we were at church a lot. Here he is passed out in the youth room. Hey, it happens! Oh, and see that binkie – it’s gone now! A week without a binkie. Woo hoo! The youth love him, the staff adores him. It’s fun.

Yes, parenting is difficult… it’s the most difficult experience of my life. BUT… we are blessed to have such an incredible support system and community of friends and family who help us raise Munchie. He is by far the greatest gift my husband and I could have ever given one another… and our families… and the world. (You’re welcome.)

Update: Rockbox Complete… FINALLY

Rock Box Complete

Two months later… I finally got the motivation to complete the rockbox! (Original post here.)

Washing the pea gravel was a bit of a pain, but I ended up drilling holes (three cheers for power tools) in the bottom of a Rubbermaid storage bin (like, a ton of them), dumping in a bag of pea gravel at a time, and washing it with the hose (and mixing it up with my hands) until the water pretty much ran clear. I ended up only using three bags of gravel – so filling the box only cost about $10.

The result? Absolute JOY!!! Inevitably, handfuls of rocks have already been thrown… and I’m happy to report that gravel to the face hurts FAR less than cancer sand in your eye.

Alligator Adventure – The Highlight of Our Summer

Alligator Adventure

So, here we are… we’ve traveled hours upon hours and finally arrived at our destination – Myrtle Beach, SC. We roll up to the house, where Gram, Aunt Lizzie, and Uncle Austen are excitedly awaiting our arrival. We are all super excited to share in Munchie’s first REAL beach vacation and can’t wait for a week of sand castles and salt water. We had everything planned out… beach in the morning, lunch, nap, and afternoon adventures.

Just one problem – anytime the parent of a toddler meticulously plans or schedules any event… the toddler must throw a monkey wrench directly into your face… often with great force.

Insert beach day numero uno. We load up the golf cart and head to the beach. It’s about 100 degrees (F, not C… for all my concerned friends from around the globe), but the salty sea will cool us off, right? ERRRRRT. Wrong-o, my friend. You see, my child has decided that his incredibly severe phobia of pools now extends to the ocean. I simply couldn’t let my child bake in the sun for a week without any reprieve… so we did a bit of rearranging to our schedule. Activities during the day – beach at night… for about 30 minutes… at which point, he would head for our bag, start dragging it to the dunes, and exclaim loudly, over the sound of crashing waves, “ALL DONE! GO HOME!”

Insert Pinterest Fact – While, yes, baby powder will dry you off and take the sand off – do NOT put it all over your body (sorry, kid), or you will straight up look like a ghost. Tried it. No photos. Trust us. Just put it on your feet and put those shoes on.

So – on to our activities. We hit up the aquarium, which was super awesome – but at the age of two, Munchie pretty much generalizes all fish to just be “fish.” He did like the sharks – especially the guy wandering around in the shark costume. Overall – I think we are too young to fully appreciate the aquarium. (The adults loved it – be sure you are in the tunnel at feeding time – incredible!)

Next, Alligator Adventure. We bought our tickets, which were actually good for two days in a seven-day period, so we were able to go twice… which is a good thing… because it took that long to travel the park with a toddler.

From the outside, Alligator Adventure looks rather small, but they have an incredible property with animals Munchie was able to recognize. He got super excited about the house of small reptiles (which is air-conditioned – so we were thrilled he enjoyed it there) and was obsessed with the monitors. He even gave on a high five! We also got to pet an owl and a giant iguana thing!!!

He loved the alligators, got to pet a giant tortoise, saw some kangaroos, a bunch of birds, and then… we got to the lemurs. (Okay, there are some random animals here – but they are all super awesome!) He actually played chase with a lemur for about seven minutes… and then had a full on meltdown when we couldn’t take the little guy home with us. Gram said he’s going to be that kid you read about who sets a bunch of animals free from the zoo or a lab or something… and I can’t say it would surprise me.

We did a bunch of other stuff on vacation (like took Munchie to his first movie in a theater… Minions), but Alligator Adventure was certainly the highlight of Munchie’s Summer… and getting to experience such an adventure with him – a magical moment for all of us. If you’re headed to Myrtle Beach – be sure to put this place on your list.

Please note: I didn’t get paid to write this. We didn’t get free tickets. The park compensated us in NO way. I wrote this post because we truly LOVED our experience and I want other families to know how awesome Alligator Adventure is, so they can have super special memories like the ones we created in this park and will cherish forever. Also, we saw a ton of people without kids who were totally enjoying the place. We recommend it for people of all ages!

Also… all of the animals seemed to be completely happy and well cared for. I’m not typically a fan of animal prisons – but this was more of a sanctuary.



Hello Workforce – Did You Miss Me?

Saying Goodbye to Staying at Home

It seems this is the week of big changes. A two-year old… a toddler bed… and a WORKING MOMMA BISH!!! Today, after two years of staying at home with my favorite little guy in the world (and some of his friends), I am going back to work. I am beyond thrilled to announce that I have accepted a position at our church, First Baptist Church of Frederick​, that will allow me to use my eclectic set of skills and experiences in non-profit growth and management, communications, marketing, event planning, and a passion for FBC Frederick, to grow our church family, cultivate volunteers and mission leaders, and send them out in our local community and beyond, to help share the love of Christ through their service and actions.

Munchie seems super excited about starting at his new school later this week and his teachers have already expressed their delight in having him in their class. Last week, he had the opportunity to play with his new classmates for a while and everyone seemed to get along fabulously. I feel comfortable leaving him in the responsible hands of his new caretakers and teachers… but I will certainly admit that all this growing up and change is a little bitter-sweet. (Dear Self, get over it… he’s literally going to be in the same building you are working in… everything will be fine.)

Being a stay at home mom has been an unplanned blessing. People are generally shocked to learn that I hadn’t ever planned to be a Stay at Home Mom… it’s just what God/the universe (whatever you believe in… just because I work for a church doesn’t mean I’m going to cram the Bible down your throat and ex-communicate the friends who don’t share my beliefs… so no worries) had in store for me.

Yes, I am truly thankful that I had the incredible opportunity to stay at home with Munchie – but at this point in time, I feel going back to work and putting my kiddo in a classroom environment is certainly what is best for our family. Let’s be honest… he could use a little more structure and socialization in his life… and I could use a few more spreadsheets and paychecks in mine.

I have a feeling that going back to work, in a job that many would argue was designed just for me (insert chuckle… because I may have written and pitched my own job description), will be the recharge I need in the middle of my week (I’m only going back part-time) to gice me a new outlook on the time I get to spend with Munchie… and the time we all get to spend together as a family. I feel like staying at home (and with Daddy Bish working from home) we kind of take our time together for granted.

So,  to sum up this entire rambling post – I’m going back to work… starting today – and I am certain this is the right decision for our family. It does come with some mixed emotions… but overall – they are of happiness and excitement.

Cheers, to new beginnings!

Sentimental Sandbox… Turned Rockbox

Sandbox Turned Rockbox

Last night, I got a message from a mom at church asking if we might want their old Crabbie Sandbox. All three of her boys grown. One is in college and the other two are now in the youth group… and they have known Munchie since he was an itty bitty little guy (well, as itty bitty as Bish babies get)… and our families have been on mission trips together… and… well… we know these people… so it was kind of totally awesome that we were in line to inherit such a totally awesome piece of play equipment! Obviously (from the photo above), we graciously accepted their offer.

Now Momma Dubs (that’s what we’ll call her) did inform me this crab needed a good scrub down and that he was rather faded from years of baking in the sun… but that didn’t stop us! She rolled up this morning and we unloaded the beast… as Munchie and Sweet Cheeks waited (not so) patiently at the front door… their jaws totally dropped…  just waiting to get their hands on this incredible piece of awesomeness.

As Momma Dubs rolled away, I met the excited little buggers at the front door and they trailed behind me to the kitchen. “Outside? Outside? Play? Play?” Never have I seen larger smiles than when I handed them sponges, grabbed the soap, and informed them we will be cleaning the sandbox!!! I’m not even exaggerating – squeals of delight radiated throughout the home and echoed throughout the neighborhood, as we stepped outside.

As neighbors peeked through their blinds and stuck a head out their cracked door to see what the fuss was about, I’m certain they thought I had lost my mind. Two toddlers with sponges, a sandbox (just brimming with sudsy water), and Momma Bish… with a garden hose in one hand… and a toilet brush in the other (don’t judge – it was new… I get a pile of them every time I go to IKEA)… it was certainly a sight to see.

After a full day of scrubbing (primarily because toddlers aren’t very helpful… and like to run off… and babies wake up from naps… etc) and bleaching – our crab is cleaned up and ready for sand!!! Right???


Now – I come across as a fairly chilled out mom – but I do take my kid’s health (and the health of his friends) seriously. I didn’t have to look very far to learn that play sand contains some crazy silica nonsense that people shouldn’t be exposed to for long periods because it’s linked to cancer. So… if you were ever curious about where I draw the line of “chilled momma,” your answer is cancer-sand.

I’m not going to lie… stumbling upon this information pretty much made my day because… fun fact… I HATE SAND. You can’t get it out of the carpet, it scratches your wood floors, it hides in clothes, diapers, ears… and no one wants sand in their eyes… especially not cancer-sand.

So… what will we fill the crab sandbox with? Rocks… more specifically pea gravel. Washed, clean, cancer-free pea gravel. Thanks Momma Dubs – and the whole Dubs family!!! We are honored to be the next in line to love on this awesome crab box – no matter what it’s filled with.


The Grieving Family is NOT Your Therapist

Always in Our Hearts

In 2012, Joe Biden spoke to the families of soldiers about grief. He said, “There will come a day – I promise you, and your parents as well – when the thought of your son or daughter, or your husband or wife, brings a smile to your lips before it brings a tear to your eye,” Biden says. “It will happen.”

Now, I don’t care what your political affiliation is or how you feel about Biden – but that statement right there – that statement is an incredibly accurate truth. On this second anniversary of Dad’s death, I am able to smile when I think of him, his jokes, his laughter… I choose to remember the good things. Do I still cry? Absolutely. But am I now able to find joy? I am. Has the gaping wound in my heart started to heal – so I can speak more often about that scar, the permanent mark that my dad left on my heart, instead of feeling the constant sting of an open wound? Definitely.

I already know that today’s post is going to be one of my highest traffic posts of the year – because people want to know how our family is doing (or because they are hella nosy and want more details of Dad’s death… which really don’t matter at all… the details are, he’s gone – it was unexpected – it was traumatic for all those left behind – and if you didn’t care enough to be around and offer your support while he busted his tush to recover from a traumatic brain injury… well, then you pretty much suck and don’t deserve to be privy to any details that we will never ever share with you – so stop being a creeper).

So, now that I’m fired up from that little rant – I know exactly what message I want to share with you. THE FAMILY MEMBERS OF THE DECEIVED ARE NOT YOUR FRIGGIN’ THERAPISTS. We have friends and family all over the country – and many of these folks were not able to make it to Dad’s service to pay their respects – so when we do finally get the opportunity to see these folks, a few words of sympathy are typically exchanged.

Let’s just throw this out on the table right now… paying your respects is awkward. There is no right thing to say… but for the love of all that is holy – there are plenty of things you should NOT EVER EVER EVER say to the family who has endured a loss.

In our situation, Dad died of suicide – something many people don’t understand. That’s fine – if you want to talk about suicide and mental health with an open mind – let’s do it! I would love to have the opportunity to educate you on the topic – I think talking about mental health is super important and the only way we will be able to work toward eliminating the stigma associate with mental illnesses and suicide. I’m totally game!

HOWEVER – I’m not your ding dang therapist… and you better not open your mouth without seriously thinking about what is going to come out. I could seriously write an entire book about all the stupid sh*t people have said to us.

“Oh, but wasn’t he excited to meet his grandson?” Oh – you mean my baby that was born 12 days after he died? Yeah – he was beyond excited to be Pap to Munchie… but mental health doesn’t discriminate and is illogical.

“I mean, what was he thinking? Why would he do that?” Did you seriously just point these questions toward his daughter? He did it because his benefits had been suspended and he had stopped receiving the care he needed. Much like – if someone with cancer had their benefits suspended and they stopped receiving treatment. Their disease would take over and they, too, would die. Mental illness requires the appropriate treatment.

“My life is hard and wake up every morning and decide to be happy. So, he should have just gotten over it and been happy.” Yes, and people with cancer should just pretend it isn’t there and they will magically be healed. I’m so happy you understand medical science.

“Suicide is the ultimate sin because you can’t repent.” Commence throat punch… because I literally have no words that your ignorant, narrow, uneducated, insensitive mind would even be worthy of.

Honestly, if you don’t know what to say… just say you were really sorry to hear about my dad’s passing… and if you knew him, feel free to tell me a funny story about him, share a memory, or let me know what you are going to do to keep his legacy alive. For all your other outlandish comments, please… go find yourself a therapist… because my family and I certainly aren’t the ones to analyze your psyche and help you hash out your issues, questions, etc surrounding the death of my dad. There is a time and place for everything… and I suggest 3pm in your therapists office.


If you, or someone you know, is struggling with mental health issues – you aren’t alone – you aren’t weak – you just need some help! I encourage you to call this number and talk to someone so you can find the care you need. Just three numbers to remember 2-1-1.

If you feel like I pulled one of the above “what not to say” comments directly from one of our conversations – then I urge you to read up on mental health, grief, and what to say to someone who is grieving.

I also HIGHLY encourage folks to watch this Biden speech. Again, I don’t care what your opinion of Biden are – the man makes some great points and after the death of his son, his message is more poignant.

Such a “McCoy” Mother’s Day


Yeah, yeah, yeah… I know I’m Momma Bish… but before I was Momma Bish, I was (and always will be) a McCoy. If you aren’t a McCoy, you just don’t really get it when it comes of oddball luck, “go figure” moments, roadfinds, and the general shiznit that seems to happen to our family members. Since a couple of our McCoy men have left this world, we have started to feel as though they are orchestrating some of these shenanigans now. One recent example… the WTF Mother’s Day flowers.

Two things… my mom LOVES getting flowers… and I think sending flowers is the stupidest idea ever. They are overpriced. They die way too fast. I would rather cook someone a meal. BUT… whatever… it’s Mother’s Day… so my gift to my mother isn’t about me. Right?

So… I scour the internet and find the PERFECT flowers to send her. An arrangement of three POTTED perennials, arranged in an ombre fashion, that are PERFECT for the Maryland climate, and absolutely adorable. I literally spent a good 45 minutes researching these damn flowers to ensure they would last a LONG time.

Even better – I have a COUPON! I input all my information, the price gets knocked down to $24, I pick a FREE SHIPPING day… and select PayPal. I log in, click the purchase button… and I’m taken to a screen that confirms my $53 ORDER?!?!?!?! Wait… WHAT THE FLIPPIN’ SCRAMBLED BANANAS IS THIS SHE-OT?!?!

Oh, hells no. I pick up my phone, call their customer support number, and demand my order be cancelled. (You don’t charge someone more than TWICE the amount they agreed to pay!) The sweet flower lady informs me that my order has been locked in and she can’t cancel it. This requires contacting another department. She puts me on hold. Five minutes later, she returns to the line, apologizes for the wait and offers me a 20% discount. Um… no. She explains there is only one person who can cancel the order at this point and asks if I mind holding again. I’m placed back on hold. (No worries, I didn’t have anything else to be doing at 6:30am on a Saturday morning.) Again, she picks up, apologizes, and offers me a 20% discount and $5 off the shipping. NOOOO.

“Ma’am, I can go to Costco, buy my mom eight times as many flowers, and deliver them myself for this price. I just want my money back!” The poor woman is obviously growing frustrated with the fact she can’t do anything for me. In total, we are on the phone for 30 minutes.

Then, she makes an offer. “Sweetie, I can’t speed this up, but what I’m going to do is issue you a refund and stay on the line with the other department until they cancel this order. I’m going to warn you though, there is a chance we won’t be able to stop the shipment and the flowers will still be sent out to your mom.”

WAIT… WHAT?!?! This was a FABULOUS OFFER! YES, I WANT THAT, PLEASE! We finished up the call and was SOOO eager to share my story… but it wasn’t even 7am. I waited… waited… waited… okay… 8am. I picked up the phone, called my mom, told her the fabulous tale, and informed her she “may or may not be getting flowers for Mother’s Day.”

“Emily Marie, it is just like you to tell me what I’m getting for Mother’s Day.”

“But Mom, you might not get it.”

With a giggle, “Well, now if I do, I know you didn’t pay for it… so you still have to get me something else, too.”


On Wednesday, my phone rings… it’s Mom.

“Emily Marie – I had totally forgotten about these flowers and they came and I was so surprised!” She continued to go on an on about the package and the card (which included a heartfelt thanks for pushing me out of her lady bits) and she was thrilled… but didn’t mention the flowers.

“Mom, tell me about the FLOWERS! I spent forever researching them… aren’t they beautiful?”

“Ummm… I guess? I don’t know.”

“Wait… what do you mean you don’t know? Aren’t they cool looking? Do you like the different colors and how they fade from hot pink to white? It’s ombre – totally “in” right now.”

“Uhh… I think they’re yellow.”

Oh shit. My mom must be losing her mind… or they sent her the wrong flowers.

“Mom, they are in a box that fades from pink to white, right?”

“Yeah.” Okay… she wasn’t losing it. What in the world did they send her? Maybe they found out I got a refund and stuck something else in there.

“But… the flowers are yellow?”

“Oh, there aren’t any flowers.”

“What the sh*t? They sent you an empty box?”

“No, it isn’t empty. I think I have to grow them or something. It’s just a box with some peat moss in it… and three bulbs under the peat moss. This one looks like it’s starting to come up. Kinda looks like a penis.” (Sorry Mom, it’s pretty much the funniest part of the story.)

Awesome… I’m trying to be a good daughter… and I send my mom a “Grow Your Own Penis” kit. WHAT HAVE I DONE?!?!?

I requested a picture of the “not flowers,” just to see what had arrived. Ready folks?


I will admit, these little buggers are growing rather quickly… and I’m enjoying daily updates on their progress. Perhaps this wasn’t the biggest fail ever… oh dear… no… not a fail at all… just another ridiculous “McCoy Mother’s Day” story.


Cheers – and a very happy and beautiful Mother’s Day – to the woman who pushed me out of her lady bits, and raised me to be a totally awesome, sassy, piece of work. On behalf of the world, I would like to thank you for raising a couple of awesome members of society… who aren’t afraid to voice their opinions, stand up for what’s right, and truly make a difference in the lives of others. Well done! (Now go water your free penis flowers.)

Homemade Felt Food… Because… Diabetes.

Felt Food

Oh, I’m sorry… does that title come across as a little extreme to you? Well, it’s not. Did you know the CDC is predicting that 1 in 3 Americans will have Diabetes by 2050?!?! That is freaking terrifying. Over the last month or so, I have been tediously sewing felt food by hand for Munchie, Sweet Cheeks, and any other kiddo that comes over to play. After spending an HOUR sewing together a slice of bread, I figured it was time to pack up and just invest in some manufactured play food.

I began my search with some basic criteria. I wanted to find healthy foods (so eventually, we can work together and learn how to create well-rounded, healthy meals), decent quality, and sizes that were somewhat proportionate to one another (a whole roasted chicken is not the same size or smaller than an apple).

First stop – IKEA. Their selection of felt food offers a healthy variety and we already own their felt vegetables, so I know they are of good quality. Unfortunately, the fruit basket is nearly impossible to find and there is a serious lack of protein options. (But, I did manage to find some AWESOME pots, pans, and tools for our little kitchen.)

Second stop – Dancing Bear. They offer a decent selection of Hape felt and wooden foods and play kitchen accessories. I also learned they have a birthday registry, where kids walk around with a box and fill it with the items they want. (Umm… after already sending out a birthday invite that specifically requested presence, not presents.) The price is a little more than I was looking to spend… but the foods are healthy, the quality is lovely, and the foods are proportionate.

Third stop – Walmart (because we needed allergy meds). The selection was disappointing… the quality was almost humorous, and the proportions? I saw a pineapple smaller than a strawberry. SKIP! (Whatever happened to the super awesome Little Tikes kitchen stuff that we grew up with?!?)

Fourth stop – Toys R Us. Their online selection was half decent… but in store?!?! I was appalled. I have literally NEVER been so enraged by the toys I saw on a shelf until Friday afternoon… and I felt a little silly… because… who gets this passionate about pretend food for their kid? I DO. I had two choices. On one side of the store, I could spend a fortune on Melissa and Doug foods that, for the most part, fit my criteria… but I had read the reviews on these. They are heavy and dent floors, kitchens, little pots and pans, etc… so, no. And the other side of the store? You can get pretend processed foods, junk food, or a giant multi-pack that includes both… with a few TINY fruits and veggies tossed in. Awesome… heart attacks and diabetes in a box. (Over half the food was either fried, dessert, or some other unhealthy junk food.) Also… WHY are there ONLY PINK picnic baskets and tea sets? (Angry feminist side came out, too.)

I got home, turned to Amazon, and realized that BUYING healthy, decent quality food for Munchie’s imaginative play kitchen would cost more than a month of organic produce… so I’m back to stitching felt together… to promote healthy food choices among the kids I love so very very much. Cheaper. Healthier. Full of LOVE.


Note: I’m not trying to condemn parents who expose their kids to unhealthy pretend (or real) foods… but I do encourage you to be cognizant of what your children are playing with (and consuming), discuss nutrition, provide healthy food choices in your home during snack and meal times, etc. (Heck, I made a felt hot dog and we don’t even buy hot dogs anymore because of the nitrates. I’m not going to talk to my toddler about nitrates… but I will surely talk about other foods we can grill, like chicken, shrimp, and steak… which I will eventually sew… but I started with the easy stuff.)

My C-Section Was… Necessary.


Two copies of my birth plan were tucked inside a manila folder… the last thing I packed in my hospital bag… it sat on top of everything else, for easy access. I had poured my heart and soul into that thing… I had spent month contemplating the events that were mere moments in our future. We arrived, I handed my plan over to the nurse… and we reviewed it together. In it, a note to my medical team… “We have no idea what we are doing. I know I’m carrying a giant baby. Please just be honest with us. I understand a c-section may be medically necessary.”

After three hours of active pushing, the news came. “You can keep pushing, but your baby isn’t coming out this way without injury. Dislocated shoulders, broken collarbone… he just isn’t going to fit. My recommendation is that we get you scheduled for the OR before this turns into an emergency.”

Tears… and an overwhelming feeling of defeat. WHY? WHY CAN’T I DO THIS? ISN’T MY BODY DESIGNED FOR THIS? WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME? Three hours of pushing has gone by… surely, just another 30 minutes would be enough time to push this little guy out, right? I remember looking at my husband… apologizing. (Looking back, perhaps he should have been the one apologizing for impregnating me with a tiny giant… my family makes little babies.) But, in that moment… he just looked at me like I was crazy. He reassured me of how awesome I was, as he stepped into his OR outfit.

I didn’t WANT a c-section. This isn’t the outcome I would have selected… but, I knew it was the best option. I was exhausted. I was terrified. Truthfully, I don’t remember much… except accusing the anesthesiologist that he was trying to kill me (because I couldn’t feel myself breathing)… and then I fell asleep.

I remember my husband walking in and asking if I was okay. “Oh my God! Is she dead?” Just what everyone wants to hear while they are already fairly convinced they are dying. The anesthesiologist must have thought we were both crazy… but he calmly explained that I was exhausted and just sleeping.

I remember blurred chatter… as if Charlie Brown’s teachers were speaking. I remember my head was turned left and Patrick was sitting on my right. Then, I assume I fell asleep. I am completely unaware of what was probably the most important and most traumatic part of my birth experience. THANK GOD.

The next thing I remember is Patrick telling me to look at our son… and I simply didn’t think I had the strength to roll my head over and open my eyes… but I did it… and as soon as I saw that adorable child… I didn’t think there was any possible way that could be OUR baby. He was just too damn cute!

Was it my ideal plan? No. Would I have done anything differently? Absolutely not.

The way your child(ren) entered this world… or your family… these are details… intimate details that weave the intricate pattern of your family bond. All people are different. All stories are unique. No one person or story is more important or better than another. In the world of parenting, we are all warriors. So as long as you LOVE your child(ren)… and do your BEST to raise awesome humans… you have my unfailing support.


Post inspired by: Three Truths About C-Section Mamas

The Twists, turns, and true tales of a mom and her pint sized human

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