#omgpleasejustSTOPtouchingstuff

Stop Touching Stuff

WHY THE FRUIT LOOPS DO YOU TOUCH/BREAK EVERYTHING WE OWN?!?!?! I swear toddlers are hard-wired to find anything and everything of value (crap… it doesn’t even have to be of value) in a given space and break it… usually in a way you never even thought possible. The first thing Munchie ever broke was our cable box… just days after coming home from the hospital… and that was just the beginning.

More recently, he has dumped coffee all over my laptop… twice. The second time, he carried my (cold) coffee from the kitchen to the dining room, climbed up on the chair, and tried to drink it… which resulted in coffee EVERYWHERE, including some in his mouth… so no one slept that night (like I could sleep anyway… as my poor laptop’s fate just hung in the balance).

Oh… and I was far to frazzeled to even update anyone on our winter play date with friends… when Munchie ventured into the off-limits formal living room at our friends’ house and THREW A MOTHER EFFING FABERGE EGG! (Their kid knows the room is off-limits… mine, not so much… and I certainly didn’t know WHAT was in the room.) By the grace of all that is holy… that thing didn’t even break. I seriously thought I was going to die.

This morning, Munchie was watching his daily dose of Yo Gabba Gabba and he started swinging the television. (Wall mounted TV on an arm, so it pivots. He is NOT allowed to move it… which means he does it all the freaking time.) We put our remotes on top of the TV, so he can’t reach them. Well… in all of his “Dancey Dance” excitement, the TV went swinging and the remote went FLYING, hit the ground, and busted into pieces. I didn’t even know a remote could open like that! I mean, sure… it gets dropped, thrown, etc all the time… and the batteries pop out… but the whole thing just busted apart! I tried to reassemble the darn thing… but failed. No buttons worked. Thankfully, P Bish rode in on a white stallion to save the day.

You know those coupon books kids make their parents? (Exchange this for a hug, one night off from doing dishes, or… I will clean the bathroom, vacuum the stairs, etc.) I want one of those… but I just want it to be filled with coupons that say, “I promise not to touch anything for one hour,” but knowing my kid… it would only be valid while he was sleeping (in which case, P Bish might want to use it one night when Munchie sleeps in our bed… since he likes to touch things with his toes when he sleeps… and spent all of Saturday night rubbing his feet in Daddy’s beard).

 

 

Postcard Exchange FAIL – Sorry Maryland

Postcard Fail

We are participating in a 50 States Postcard Exchange. I thought I was really cool… designed an awesome factual postcard, and I knew they were going to look great… because if you have received a card from me in the last few years, you know I use a high quality company who mails my cards for me. Well… I send my first batch of cards out… and start seeing people (from the team I mailed cards to) posting to our message board that they received a blank postcard.

Everyone was being overly nice about it and didn’t want to call anyone out and say what state it was from. Thankfully, a super sweet mom sent me a message (after I directly asked if the card was mine) to inform me that she was fairly certain it was… because there was a crab on the front. #fail #facepalm #fiftyshadesofred

I just ordered a hefty stack of my postcards from VistaPrint. They should be arriving at my house in a couple of weeks (because I wasn’t paying a kajillion dollars for shipping) and I can resend.

Sorry to my fellow Marylanders for making our state look a bit incompetent. I promise to make up for it the remainder of the year by being timely… and perhaps even rubbing some Old Bay on the cards for a bit of a scratch and sniff feature.

Family Focused Holidays – A Reflection

holidays

Last week, my editor started pestering me about the fact I hadn’t  posted a new blog in three weeks. Zoiks! Any blogger will tell you that the first rule of blogging is to post new content… even if it’s something short… but I ignored that advice… and for good reason… and it all started on Christmas morning.

Patrick and I woke up well before Munchie and headed down to tree. We opted to exchange stockings with one another before the mini tornado sounded his morning siren. As we opened, I snapped pictures. About five minutes into our exchange, my husband looked at me, sighed, and said, “Can we NOT make this an internet Christmas?” I looked up from my phone, and with a guilty conscience, closed Instagram. In that moment, I decided to begin my holiday hiatus.

Okay, it wasn’t a complete hiatus… but I did seriously minimize the amount of time I spent online. The real gift I gave my family this year was intentional attention. Honestly, it feels completely embarrassing to admit this… because it’s something my family deserves and having to remind myself to pay attention to my family makes me feel like a horrible mom/wife/daughter/sister/friend.

This year, I still took a good number of pictures throughout the holidays… but instead of editing them and sharing them with the world, I just continued to live in the moment. Do you know how much crap you miss when you are fiddling with your phone? LOADS! (Plus, it gave me more time to learn how to play the harmonica I got for Christmas!)

I have rather enjoyed my hiatus and… while I hate New Year’s Resolutions, I like having some guiding statements to live by… so I’m adding this one… BE WHERE YOUR HANDS ARE.

A few years ago, my cousin shared this with me. From time to time, I have tried to remind myself to BE WHERE MY HANDS ARE and just focus on the moment… but I haven’t been so successful. I’m going to make an earnest effort to spend more time in the moment, enjoying the little things, seeing the world through the eyes of Munchie and his friends, and enjoying life as I live it… not worrying so much about things that are less important.

If you are a constantly connected to devices, I really encourage you to do the same. As crazy as it might sound, be intentional about giving your attention to the people and things in your life that are most important… and BE WHERE YOUR HANDS ARE. You won’t regret it.

———-

At some point, I will probably write some back dated posts to cover our holiday experiences… but for now… I’m going to take advantage of the moment I currently have without Munchie and take down some horrible wallpaper. Don’t EVER put up wallpaper… I want to smack the previous homeowners for putting me through this hell.

 

Rent a Brother (or Sister)

Rent a Brother

I think children benefit from being around other children… not just in a social sense (though developing social skills is hella important… and yes, I just used the word hella), but also in a nurturing sense. Many children have the opportunity to grow up with siblings… but what if you only have one child? Even if you have multiple children, your oldest child doesn’t have an older sibling and your youngest child doesn’t have a younger sibling. But… what if they did? Even if it was only on occasion?

Perhaps it’s the caffeine talking, but I think having multiple children around is incredible (and yes, also a bit more complicated than just one). For months, I have watched Sweet Cheeks and Munchie develop a relationship that goes deeper than a friendship. I mean, yes… they are friends… but from being around one another on an almost daily basis, these kids started interacting like family. Friends interact, play, maybe even problem solve… but family picks on each other, comforts, and communicates without even speaking (the level on which these two understand one another is mind-boggling).

About two weeks ago, I started watching an adorable three-month old baby (Little Boo). Initially, Munchie was jealous, stole his binkie quite often, and just didn’t seem too fond of LB. Sweet Cheeks didn’t even acknowledge his presence. As the hours ticked by, the kids started to warm up to LB… and as the days have passed, not only are the other kids interacting with him, but they are helping to take care of him!

When LB cries, the other kids come running with a binkie, blanket, or toy to help cheer him up. Munchie LOVES to help feed LB… which I actually thought was going to be BIG issue, since we recently packed up ALL of Munchie’s bottles (yeah, we used bottles until 18 months… and this is me not caring about your opinions), but as long as he gets to help feed the baby, he doesn’t even try to steal the bottle! Both kids enjoy rocking LB in his various baby rocker/bouncer/seat/basket/box/receptacle/devices. They sing him songs, jump around, dance and do just about anything to make him smile. Munchie also likes to tickle Little Boo (which he did just after LB ate yesterday… and the result was baby barf all over Munchie, while he just looked at me with a squished up face saying, “Eww, Eww, Eww” in a manner that would make Jimmy Fallon proud).

I feel like this level of nurturing isn’t something that can be achieved through dolls or imaginative play… I think it’s something that needs to be experienced first hand. But, how do I propose we do this? I mean, I guess an in home daycare, where different age children have the freedom to interact with one another… or perhaps some form of child renting program… which might sound bad, but would really just be reverse babysitting… because instead of paying someone to take care of your child, you pay THEM to let your borrow theirs.

———

Post caffeine high reflection:
Uhh… I think this is one of those ideas that sounded better and less creepy in my head. Don’t rent your children out to strangers. Also, to the families who currently have children in my care… I would like to revise the payment suggestions listed above, as I will NOT be writing you checks… however, I will generously let you continue funding my research on this topic. ;-)

Unexpected Nativity Fishing

I am turning fifty shades of red right now… and I have no pictures of the incident… thank goodness… but I feel compelled to document the event. I need to preface by confessing that I have no idea how to raise a boy and I am almost convinced Munchie has a clone (who lives under a pile of dirty clothes) that runs around causing trouble… for this is the only possible explanation for the amount of shenanigans that take place in our home.

I put Munchie down for a nap and head to take my shower. I flip the water on and sit down to do what most people do… take that pre-shower tinkle. As I take a seat on the porcelain throne, i notice that my foot is firmly planted on a damp bath mat.  For a moment, I sit there… absolutely perplexed. My husband showers in another bathroom… and there haven’t been any baths so far today… perhaps the dog was thirsty, but she doesn’t make a mess like this…

… AND THEN I STARTED CONNECTING THE DOTS. Yes, from my seated position, I cringe… the toilet seat has a bit of water splashed up on it. I look down to find PIECES OF OUR FREAKING NATIVITY SCENE in the toilet. I leap up in a panic, hoping to prevent myself from peeing on… Baby Jesus (and other less important props and characters from the story).

I thanked that sweet little baby Jesus that I cleaned the toilet last night (I would also like to thank Clorox), as (after not finding any helpful tools) I plunged my hand deep into the potty to retrieve the blessed hunks of plastic from their watery resting place.

After soaking in some bleach water, all nativity pieces have been returned to their place in the manger.

Oh, wait a minute… I see someone judging me. “Throw it away and buy a new one!” (Obviously someone who isn’t a parent, only has girls, or has an endless supply of cash.) Let me tell you one thing… if I threw away and replaced every item Munchie tossed in the toilet… we would need to take out a second mortgage. Bleach is cheaper. Plus… no one puts Baby Jesus in the trash.

NOT PREGNANT! (You People and Your Rumors!)

Friend: Madam. I heard a rumor about a bun in the oven. Is this truth?

Me: What the *bleep*? Most certainly NO bun in this oven. LOL. I can’t get pregnant on my current meds or we might end up with a mutant baby!

Friend: Haha, that is what I thought! I figured you would have done a big reveal if it was true.

————————-

Please, let me just clear up any misconceptions about the current occupancy of my uterus. This organ is currently uninhabited.

AND… my friend knows me well… there would have been a big reveal (which there won’t be)… if that’s why you were waiting for our Christmas card (which you may or may not be receiving), please rest assured… we will not be announcing otherwise.

You May (Not) Get a Christmas Card From Us

Christmas 2013

4 Years ago, we sent out Save the Dates.
3 Years ago, we mailed our Wedding Invitations.
2 Years ago, we sent Pregnancy Announcements.
1 Year ago, Munchie “drove” into mailboxes.

This year… I’m sitting here freaking out about the fact that we have yet to take our Christmas card photo. I know exactly what I’m planning to do… I have known for months… and Patrick is on board. But will we be able to pull it off? Will people end up with a card from the Bish Family in their mailbox before Santa shows up? Eh… maybe.

Last year, we sent nearly 200 Christmas cards! That’s a lot of freaking cards… and postage. I love sending Christmas cards… and I know people like to receive them… but if you don’t get one… don’t bitch about it. We aren’t in middle school.

If you haven’t been involved in our lives in the last year… don’t expect a card. If you are a meanie face… don’t expect a Christmas card (but, we will pray for your unkind soul). If you didn’t send us a Christmas card… don’t expect to get one from us. If you send a Christmas card to us super close to Christmas… your card from us may not arrive until after the new year (when I realize that oh sh*t… I forgot to send you one). If I don’t have your updated address… don’t expect a Christmas card (but the new people living in your old house might get one).

Seriously… I catch about as much flack every freaking year from people I don’t send cards to as I did about people not getting an invitation to our wedding. #areyoufreakingkiddingme #growup

If you don’t get a card from us, but think you should have… you are probably just wrong… because I never make mistakes (yeah, right…).

Chances are pretty good that I will end up posting our Christmas card photo online… so you can always just print out the picture, tape it to your fridge, and pretend like we actually like you.

———————-

Note to our international friends… I’m only sending a max of FIVE international cards this year. (Postage will equate to about one fancy holiday drink at Starbucks.) If you want one, send me a message… with your correct address (because I don’t want returned mail from Poland, Malta, New Zealand, etc). Cheers!

The Definition of Friendship

Friendship

 

I’m far too lazy today to figure out how Webster or Google define friendship… but I certainly know it when I see it… and I see it in Munchie and Sweet Cheeks. In fact, I don’t just see a friendship… I see a best friendship. Below are a few observations I have made; from which I have drawn my conclusions.

1. When separated for any period of time (a week, a day, an hour) they are GENUINELY elated to see one another. Smiles, squeals, jumping around, giving hugs… simply freaking adorable. My kid doesn’t even get this excited about seeing anyone else… ever. (Grandparents are a close second… but no one makes this kid happier than Sweet Cheeks,)

2. They listen to each other’s ideas… and hop on board. Everyone has that one friend who you KNOW wouldn’t be able to bail you out of jail… because chances are pretty good that you would get arrested together. Well… after catching these kids work together to pull off great acts of shenanigans (like trying to ride down the stairs in a box, flipping the ball pit and scattering balls all over the house, etc), I’m sure we can check this off the list.

3. Friends will share… heck you might even share with a stranger… but only BEST friends share granola bars and cookies. That’s just science.

4. Frequently mistaken for siblings? (Because they are both so adorable… that’s my guess.) Check.

5. Laugh in unison when I’m trying to bring the hammer down? (Further backing up the sibling thing, too.) Check.

6. Getting into laughing fits (about absolutely nothing) together that lead to copious amounts of tears, snot, and sometimes full diapers. Check.

7. Fight like siblings? Check.

8. Make up two seconds later? Check.

9. Know how to make each other feel better? (Sweet Cheeks runs for Munchie’s binkie… and he will drag her diaper bag over and try to dig out one of her toys.) Check.

10. Have each other’s back? Check. Sweet Cheeks and Munchie are hella protective of one another. Don’t believe me? Try to pick up one of them when they are together. I TRIPLE DOG DARE YOU! (Warning… they go for they eyes and the throat… and let out screams of a frequency that makes all dogs within a four mile radius start barking.)

—————-

Friends are important… best friends are a gift. I’m so thankful these kids have one another. They are so super awesome!

Thank Goodness for Throwback (Thanksgiving) Thursday!

gobble

Hello, my name is Emily… and I’m the awful Mom Blogger who neglected to post anything last year about Munchie’s First Thanksgiving.

It was adorable. It was delicious. His hat was better than your hat.

Can we all just take a moment to be thankful for Dunaway Crafts? Last year, for Munchie’s First Thanksgiving, I sent them a message and asked if they could make a special item (a ridiculous turkey hat) JUST FOR ME. Without any sort of pattern, they quickly handcrafted the turkey hat I had requested. That festive piece of headwear fit my little butterball perfectly and was quite the conversation piece. Thank you Dunaway Crafts!

We had MULTIPLE Thanksgiving feasts last year (technically, one was Friendsgiving) and I didn’t write about any of them! Epic fail, Momma Bish… Epic fail. Last year, we were feeding Munchie tiny bites of potatoes… and this year, he is likely to just chow down on a giant turkey leg. I can’t believe how much changes in a year!

That’s enough reminiscing. I’m going to get teary eyed and emotional… which is what I did last year… and why there wasn’t a Thanksgiving Recap post.

GOBBLE GOBBLE – From the whole crazy family of Bishes!

 

Ain’t No Party Like a Momma Bish Burnt the Oatmeal Party

Burnt Oatmeal Party

This morning started off like any other. Actually, I take that back. This morning, I decided to skip the typical nutritional Fruit Loop breakfast (because before I have my coffee, pouring some dry cereal in a cup and handing it to my toddler is about all I can manage) and made some hearty oatmeal on the stove. Straight up fancy sh*t, right? Munchie is in the kitchen, sitting on “his” rug, drinking a bottle of milk. Oatmeal is on the stove, I grab my coffee, and head to the table.

As I browse the news (via my Facebook feed and Huffington Post… very high quality news), I hear Munchie playing in the kitchen. While scanning something about rioting, I realize the kitchen is a bit quiet. “He’s just drinking his bottle again,” I think to myself. I move on through the “news” to see that Sweet Lemons scored a free coffee at Dunkin Donuts, thanks to a Ravens win last night. This reminds me to take another sip from my own cup.

The caffeine started to kick in… and I begin connecting dots… this silence in my home has grown suspicious. I quietly sneak out of my chair and peek over the kitchen island. HOLY HELL!

Munchie is standing at the trash can, lid wide open, with white gunk all over his face. My eyes further investigate, while my brain makes the connection. He is holding a straw, one end in his hand, the other in his mouth, and EATING the remaining whipped cream out of our Sonic milkshakes from last night… OUT OF THE TRASH. “Munchie! What are you doing?!?!” He just smiles, so proud of himself.

I kick it into gear, swoop him up, wipe him down, and shove the trash down further into the can. (This all happened so fast that no photo evidence exists… gasp!) I grab my phone to share this story with my sister. I hook Munchie up with some Curious George and return to the table, once again finding solace in my (now warm) coffee. I begin to relax in my chair… again.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!

WHAT THE FLYING CHIPMUNK?!?!?

It’s the freaking smoke alarm! I glance up and look around to assess the situation. No fire. No smoke. Munchie is just sitting directly under the smoke detector, staring at the ceiling. What is happening?! The alarm usually only goes off when I cook… OHHHHH.

The oatmeal… I totally forgot!

I run to the kitchen, turn off the stove, and take the pot outside. I rush back in to open the front door. Grabbing a book (about teaching your kid Mandarin… don’t ask), I start fanning the alarm. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Munchie… dancing his little heart out. His feet are hopping, his arms are waving, his head is shaking.

The piercing sound of the alarm stops (thank God). Munchie looks me in the eye, frowns, says, “Uh oh,” and begins signing “more.” It took me a second (still haven’t finished that coffee) to realize… the smoke alarm is his new favorite jam.

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

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