Parenting Fatigue.

I have it. And an extreme case at that.

It's that disease that strikes most parents (unless they are bona fide saints). The days when your children's fights, whines, screams, questions, behavior, and general nonsense seem to pile up and no matter how hard you try to keep smiling and being patient and laughing and wearing a positive attitude, you just can't pull it off.

You see the clock creeping ever closer to bedtime and you giggle a little more with each passing minute. And you honestly feel bad about it.

That's me. Only I stopped giggling yesterday (right about the time Rhino barfed) and am now gleefully skipping about the house namby pamby with every passing minute. It's the spirit of honesty; it took me away for a minute.

Rhino has had a hard start to school and we are trying desperately to make it work for him. But when I say we, I mean me. It's not Lion's fault. He has a new position at work and is taking on a slew of new responsibilities and as a result is working horribly long hours. Thank you Lion! You rock! Even so, the dealings with school are on my shoulders.

And his teachers (now THERE'S a pair of saints!), Mrs. F and Mrs. A, have been trying everything they can think of and some tricks from other teachers to get him settled in and on the right path. So I have support.

But it's wearying just the same. Don't forget that I have Orangutan and Marmoset still here too. I didn't auction them off (but bidding is still open). They are into all manner of nonsense too. O has homework this year! We are practicing sight words, writing, letters of the week and doing art projects for classroom decor. Marmie is trying to potty train and is getting into all her siblings things while they are at school.

On top of that you have the security dog, who can't leave the stuffing in anything in the house; all the normal housework (which is amplified by discarded stuffing); lunch packing; therapy baking (which has been desperately needed); and the carpool line. And that's on the days when I skip a workout.

I am beat.

But then I think of my pals who do all that plus a full time job, soccer, baseball, football, band, dance, gymnastics, and/or karate, and I am in awe.

Here's a Mom Tip for you. Parenting Fatigue is normal and ok. Eventually they will grow up, move away and have children of their own.

Lay on the Mother's Curse well and often! My mom did; I blame her for my fatigue.

Call out HazMat!

The Zoo is going out for dinner!

(Fer, you should feel better about Z's dining experience in about two minutes.)

God, please bless Ms. A and the whole team at Longhorn tonight. Really! Bless them and keep them and send Ms. A some serious tips. Oh, and the people who were sitting beside us. Bless them and let them never be in a restaurant at the same time as us ever again.

Let's back up to 9 PM last evening. The Grand Keeper and Great Silverback were headed home from vacay and had a 3 hour layover here in The Big Peach so I packed up the livestock trailer and took the exhibits on tour to the airplane port (per Rhino) to visit for an hour or two. After a delightful dinner of Wendy's kids meals and a follow up frosty and lightening of Silverback's change pocket, we put them back on their plane and headed back to the Zoo. (BTW, yes, that dinosaur is actually in our airport.)

We were about halfway home when Orangutan said, "Momma! My tummy hurts really bad!" The livestock trailer broke the sound barrier and a few suggested speed limits and we got home just in time for her to make it to the bathroom and lose her dinner. (You're welcome!) I got everyone into jammies and into bed - for a few hours.

3 AM - Lion up and wide awake for no apparent reason.
5 AM - O up and repeating her 9 o'clock exercise.
6 AM - Rhino up and coughing so hard he couldn't catch his breath.
7:30 AM - Marmoset up and craving some serious breakfast. "But I hungy NOW Momma!"
10 AM - L.M. Lion sets out for a golf outing with some friends. Note - he is supposed to be home "around 3." Apparently that was 3 in "man time."

All day was checking fevers and listening to Rhino bark. O finally broke around noon and was good to go. Rhino is still barking. L.M. Lion finally got home at 5:30. I snagged Marmie and Rhino and sprinted to the grocery store. I think I set a record for getting through the grocery store with children in tow.

Now we were off to meet Lion and Orangutan for dinner at Longhorn. We sat down and ordered and had some witty banter with Ms. A our waitress. It looked like the day was going to be saved. Ms. A brought our seafood au gratin appetizer and everyone was munching away on some chips when I hear "The Bark."

Some of you may know The Bark. It's that cough that tells every mother on the planet that we are no longer just coughing. I couldn't get out of my seat fast enough. Suddenly Mount Rhino erupted right into Lion's hands. And not just once but several times. I tried to shield the table of people who were in our section. Lion even looked at one of the people at the table and said, "Please don't look!"

The manager, two waitresses and a bus boy were launching rib towels, hot napkins, not so hot napkins, paper napkins and sanitizing cloths at us like we were on Omaha Beach. And the carnage deserved it. It was hideous. And I was mortified. Of course right in the middle of all the chaos, Orangutan and Marmie (who we are trying to potty train right now) pipe up with "We need to go potty!"

I get back from the bathroom with the girls just in time for our food to show up - not that I was in any mood to eat. And so we calmly (as if nothing had happened) ate our dinner. Even Ms. A acted like nothing had happened. It was surreal!

Lion decided that he wanted to have an after dinner coffee. Marmie was getting restless so she hopped up in my lap and was cuddling with me while he had his coffee. Suddenly she started to freak out on me. "Oh No Momma! I go pee!" It's ok baby. You have a pull up on. Except this time it leaked. On who?

I burst into hysterical laughter. The people behind us took two looks at my dripping leg and started to giggle. Ms. A came to the table to hand Lion the check and she offered to go get me an apron from the kitchen. Lion just waved her off and said something to the effect of "If it isn't on her now, it will be before we get home."

Something tells me that future meals from Longhorn's will be carry out. If they don't ban us from the restaurant, they will certainly offer us a discount to eat somewhere - anywhere! - else. That said I really must commend the staff. They had every reason to bring our food and run for the hills. But they didn't. The went out of their way to salvage our dining experience and the experience of the other folks on our section.

So thank you Mr. B, Ms. A and all the crew at Longhorn's. Next time we'll bring drop cloths, raincoats, and a fire hose to clean up after ourselves.

And then My Sister Called - Again.

My grown up life was, in a word, heinous yesterday. But just when the grown up world is miserable, my little exhibits pull out all the stops to make me laugh at how absolutely absurd life can be.

As usual, I got the two big exhibits out on Academic Tour (thank you Lion for taking morning carpool), checked my e-mail and then asked Marmie what she thought we should do with our day. "Let's make Nana Bread, Mama!" A quick glance toward the fruit fly cloud emanating from the top of the fridge and I knew she had a brilliant idea.

Side note: With the two big exhibits out of the house, we have been boot camping the potty training. This translates to minimal clothes because let's face it they just get in the way. Please note that I said, "minimal clothes;" not "clothing optional." This will become important later.

Back to the banana bread. I dudded her out with a child's apron (over her underpants - minimal clothing people) and set her up on one of the bistro chairs so she could reach the counter. All was clicking right along in our cooking adventure; she was peeling bananas, dumping sugar, and waiting patiently for the eggs.

Perhaps it was a moment of insanity. Maybe I hadn't gotten that first cup of coffee all the way down. But something made me think that maybe she could handle cracking the egg. And she did. Right onto the newly mopped floor.

Moving on.

The livestock trailer has been looking a little rough lately so I thought since I had time and distractions would be minimal I would clean it out and shampoo the carpets. Marmie was watching some cartoons and playing in the playroom so it was all going smoothly. I checked on her every few minutes and was clicking right along. Suddenly there was a banging on the door. I opened the door to see her poochie little lip. "I sawy Mama." She was trying to get upstairs to go potty and didn't make it. I assured her that all was well and sent her upstairs for a new pair of unders. Cleaned up the mess and went back to work on the van.

Banging on the door. "I sawy Mama." No puddle. No scribbling on the wall. But still no unders either. What happened kiddo? "I poop in your kitchen." Right beside where she had cracked the egg. Day two of mopping the floor.

Moving on.

We safely made it out the door to the carpoool line. Everyone made it home in one piece and then Orangutan decided that we "needed to talk." Grand Keeper had gotten her some new sneaks for school and she finally got to wear them yesterday. Apparently during PE she had to take them off for one reason or another. Well when it was time to put them back on apparently I had knotted them all wrong for her and her teacher and she missed recess time because I messed up. "Thanks for tying them Mom. But on Monday could you be a little more careful? I need to be able to keep up." I stand corrected, O. Please forgive me for inconveniencing your Kindergarten life so terribly.

And then my sister called. Now if you missed the first call from my sister you really should take some time to go back and review it. It's a gem. But it seems that my darling sibling brings out the nutty in my exhibits. I don't think we were two minutes into the conversation when the following happened.

Me: So any news other than...WHY ARE YOU NAKED?!?!?!
Marmie: Tee Hee Hee Hee
B: hysterical laughter
Me: No seriously! Where are your clothes?
Marmie: Tee Hee Hee
B: breathless hysterical laughter
Me: (sigh) Please go find your underpants and pajamas. AND PUT THEM ON!
Marmie: exit stage right - supposedly to go find her clothing
B: (catching her breath) That was awesome! I could actually hear her "Tee Hee Hee!"
Me: I should quit writing this stuff on the blog and start a comedy tour. As Heard at the Zoo or some other catchy title.
B: Tee Hee Hee (dissolves in hysterical laughter again)
Me: Oh stuff it! You're not funny. AAAUUUGGGHHH!!! You're still naked!!
Marmie: Tee Hee Hee
B: I think you should call the tour "Clothing Optional."
Me: Like I don't see enough butts every day of my life! I gotta go.
B: Tee Hee Hee (and more...you guessed it hysterical laughter.)

Dear Fellow Homeowners,

When you are preparing your home for the market (because you probably won't die in the house you're in) you will probably do some painting. Take a moment as you complete each room and label the leftover paint according to the room it belongs to. Please also note the color and store where the paint was purchased and leave it behind. The future homeowners will kiss the ground you walk on.

"Why" you ask? Because when their 4 year old takes a black wide tip Sharpie and creates a mural of blood curdling proportions on two walls they will be able to locate the necessary paint to repair the damage quickly and easily. This will not only spare your homeowner the pain of snatching themselves bald, but may also save the life of the 4 year old in question.

This has been your public service announcement for today. Thank you and happy home ownership!

The New Innies and Outies

Well, there is a very good chance that we have FINALLY gotten over the hump with Rhino's potty training. It has been a long and tearfilled journey but he has finally taken mercy on me and decided that the potty is not the black hole of death.

In celebration of this fact we are now moving on to encouraging very "boy" behaviors such as standing and aiming. For the sake of my bathroom floor, we started this project outside. Yes, I have been encouraging my son to pee on trees in the back yard. And before you all freak out and call me looney because after all suburbia isn't country, we have a very high privacy fence and lots of trees and bushes. No one is "peeping" on my son. And he is keenly aware that this is only BACK yard behavior.

Last night we moved training inside. Unfortunately the timing could have been better. Orangutan was jumping in for her shower when suddenly a completely naked (fresh out of the tub) Rhino came sprinting into the bathroom screaming, "Gotta pee! Gotta pee!" Nothing like an entrance. He was all too excited to show his sister his new "trick."

I knew a conversation was about to happen but with Orangutan you never really know which way it's going to go.

"Hey Mom! Do ALL boys have those sticky outie things?"

(oh crap!) "Yes honey they do." (Dear Lord let it end now. Please! I beg you! Let it end now!)

"But girls have innie things."

"That's right." (Ok, this could still be saved as long as she doesn't ask why. And even then I can go with the God's plan line.)

"Well, that's just too bad for boys then." Said as if the conversation was done. On that note? Now I have questions!

"Why do you say it's too bad?"

"Well, if boys aren't paying attention then they'll miss the potty and make a mess. Then the Mommys will get mad and probably spank them for being messy."

"Is that what you would do if you were a mommy for a boy?"

"Oh Mom! I'm only having little girls. Boys are just a mess."

If only you knew O. If only you knew! And on top of that she still has no interest in boys which delights my little soul that much more. I thought we were having issues because there is a little boy in her class who adores the very air she breathes.

I did however forget to remind her that that was a Mommy-Orangutan conversation before she left for school today so I could be in for an interesting e-mail from Mrs. F if things go poorly.

Try not to think too much about this the next time you shower. Are you an innie or an outie?

Tuesday Tribute: Lessons of Childhood

I know you are used to my Tributes being a little lighter in nature but this week I have a genuine Tribute to pass out. Here's to my children and their lessons.

This whole blog is really dedicated to all the little lessons I learn from them and silly things they do. But here is a lesson we can all take from my children. Take joy.

Friday afternoon I was folding laundry and watching my little Marmoset play with the dog. She had a ribbon off of the front door wreath and she was trying her hardest to catch the dog so that she could "tangle" him and take him for a walk. She tried to tie the ribbon on his tail, his back foot, his ear and his nose. She was nothing if not persistent. Anyone else would have gotten frustrated and given up.

"So why is the lesson 'Take Joy' instead of 'Be persistent' Sarah?"

Because everytime she failed she would fall on the floor giggling hysterically. And not just giggling. That bubbly giggle laughter that made me giggle and laugh until tears came to my eyes. She was truly joyful to be chasing the dog. It didn't matter that she never won. She was happy with just her ribbon and her dog.

I folded the laundry and pondered what I had just seen. I try very hard to turn things back to my own life as I watch my children play them out so the question that confronted me was this. Am I content to take joy in what I have?

In the current state of affairs in our nation there is plenty to be down and out about. There is plenty of finger pointing and blaming and lamenting for everyone. But is there enough joy? Is anyone actually looking at what they have and saying, "Well, ok"?

I have three incredible children and a loving hubby. I have a roof over my head and food in my pantry. I have sunshine and bubbles. I can take joy. I can allow myself to be happy. I don't need for anything. So "ok."

And here's to my Marmoset and the gift of her joy.

Tuesday Tribute: Here's to You "Normal."

If you've been reading the Zoo for a while you know that I seldom play very many memes here. Most of that finds it's way over to The Bowl. But today there was one that I couldn't resist. Jay at Halftime Lessons and Deb at Dirty Socks and Pizza are the host of Tuesday Tribute. It's a weekly opportunity to bow to someone or something other than our ginormous egos.

This is my first time playing along but I have read quite a few of the tributes in the past. Let's see if I can do the meme justice. My Tribute to "Normal."

Welcome to My Norm!

There's a dino in the dining room
And a pick up in the tub.
There's a martian on the ceiling fan
And an ape under the rug.

A watermelon's sprouted

Underneath the bathroom sink.
And something quite unknown
Is making such a stink.

I saw a walrus hiding

In the pillows on mom's bed.

She hasn't found my toad yet

Or I'd probably be dead.

My little sister just ate dirt.

The big one flushed the phone.

I think I should try hiding

Until my Dad gets home.

I think my mom is losing it.

She's about to blow her stack.

'Cause she may have just discovered

She's standing in dog yack.

I'm pretty sure at other homes

This scene might make you squirm.

But around these parts my mom would say...

Welcome to my Norm.

Normal is...

Mama Kat does a writer's workshop every week and I've been watching some of the writing prompts that have come up from time to time. I couldn't pass one of today's prompts up. "Normal is..." I have to go with "relative" for this one. Normal is relative. Oh yeah!


Normal at my house is waking up somewhere completely different from where you went to sleep wearing something completely different. I fell asleep in the Orangutan-Marmoset exhibit last night (Marmie isn't having such a great transition) and woke up half an hour later on the chaise in the living room. I woke up 3 hours later to Orangutan and Marmie climbing into my bed with me and have no recollection of taking off my sweatshirt, taking out my contacts or even going into my room and clearing the bed which I know was covered with laundry.


Other people go to bed and wake up in the same bed and in the same clothes they went to sleep in. Not sure how they do it but it must not involve children.


Normal in my house is six meals a day. Breakfast, mid morning snack, lunch, mid afternoon snack, small exhibit dinner and large exhibit dinner. And before you tell me that you don't count the snacks as meals you don't know the preparation that goes into peanut butter saltines. Marmie insists that she must have silverware for every meal no matter what it is so it counts as a meal.


Other homes probably don't even have to use bowls for their snacks and therefore can legitimately discount them from being meals. That's not our normal.


Normal at my house is doing AT LEAST one load of laundry a day. I'm lucky if I escape doing two or three. Inevitably as soon as I even think, "Whew! Caught up! Yay!" someone has taken it upon themselves to spill a sippy, poop, pee, barf or draw on something not intended for any of the above. Thus creating another load.


Other homes can probably knock the laundry out in a day on the weekend and not even have to glance in the direction of the hamper until the following week.


Normal at my house is answering the phone and then proceeding to have four conversations at the same time. One with the person who called; one with Rang Tang; one with Rhino; and one with Marmie. None of them will be talking about the same thing. It's a good thing that most of the people who call me share my version of normal and therefore are very understanding (if they aren't having multiple conversations themselves).


Other people answer the phone, have their conversation with the person on the other end and hang up. I bet they even stay on the same train of thought while they are on the phone.


Now I am sure that several of you share the same normal I do but I thought you should know that other people think our life is not normal. Weirdos!

The Rookies vs. The Veterans

Parenting like every competitive sport has it's rookies and veterans. What? Parenting isn't a competitive sport? You must be a rookie!


A friend from college recently had his first child and I've been following the adventure on Facebook. It's very hard not to chuckle at every status update but because I like him and he's a good friend I have not mocked him in his new fatherhood. Yet.


"Babies smell so good!"
Wait until you start solids dude! Nothing yummy about that.


"I don't want to go back to work."
I give that 2 years if you don't immediately have another; 18 months if you do.


It's fun to watch new parents. Every coo gets a picture. Every bag of diaper trash becomes a baby book entry. First trips anywhere are documented with glee and delight. And before anyone jumps on me about it, I did it. I made a fool of myself just like every other new parent and therefore I am making fun of myself too! Get over it.


Then your second child comes along and you still take fun pictures because now it's the first time X and Y did Z together. But the glow is a little fainter because now you are trying to get two children to keep their shoes on while buckling four arms into carseats and packing two sippy cups and snacks and heaven only knows what else.


You can spot the mom of 3 or more from a mile away. She looks completely at peace. She smiles at everything and she maintains a calm and easy exterior. You know why?



She has surrendered to the enemy. Waved her white flag. Tossed in her towel. Bowed out. Given up and given in. She knows that if everyone makes it through the day with nothing more major than a scrape and 4 bandaids she has won. She never worries about people coming over and seeing a mess because people don't come over. They're too scared of the duct tape. She doesn't bother with her appearance because she knows that somewhere on her personage there is poo, spit, snot, vomit or jelly and if there isn't there will be soon.


The rookie is constantly seeking the approval of others and taking too much advice from too many well meaning people who may or may not have children of their own.


The veteran has perfected smile and nod. She will smile and nod and pretend to listen to you and take it all in when in her head she is really saying, "Your turn is coming. They will break you too."


And before the debate starts about parenting being a competetive sport let me say this. Your way is the best way. It always is. Moms who nurse are superior to moms who don't and vice versa. Moms with slings are cooler than moms with strollers and vice versa. Moms who don't vaccinate are infinitely wiser than moms who vaccinate and vice versa. See! Told you it was a competitive sport. Rookies get caught up in those debates and get tweaked about them. Veterans look at their children and say, "Nobody's dead yet, so I'm ok."


I really should run. There should be a Facebook update for me to laugh at soon. Bless their little family Lord! And Congrats again Joe!

To my Friend J Jiggety

And any of my other followers who are teachers.


I am writing to apologize to you. I know that your job as a teacher is made infinitely more difficult by parents who do not take advantage of teachable moments and expose their children to new and interesting opportunities and experiences. I understand that science is one of those subjects that can use all the parental assistance possible as it is as much observational as it is hands on.


I am confessing to you right now that I intentionally avoided one such learning experience this afternoon on the way home from school. As we left to go to carpool duty, I noticed that one of our neighborhood sciurus carolinenis (squirrel) had met his (or her) demise on the street leading out of the neighborhood. Having grown up in a rural area I did not give it a second thought because, well, life happens like that. You think you've dodged a bullet and then you see the garbage truck grill.


We completed our assigned rounds and were pulling back into the neighborhood when I observed a cathartes aura (turkey buzzard) feasting on our fresh carrion. I must admit that I sped up a little. Initially my hope was to make said fowl lift off in flight but then I was reminded that should these particular aviators have a full stomach upon lift off they will void said organ. Not what I want to park in the garage. Therefore it became my intent to swiftly ease past my dining friend without startling him or drawing attention to his meal of choice.


I really had no desire to explain to my children why their favorite Over the Hedge character had just become an afternoon snack. I recognize that in doing so I missed out on a tremendous teaching opportunity. I beg your forgiveness and promise that when they are a little older (say 12?) I will make amends by seeking out feasting cathartes auras.


Thank you for understanding my situation and forgiving my cowardice.


Sincerely,
The Zookeeper

Can We Talk about Moving for a Minute?

No, the Zoo is not relocating to a suburb near you. I heard that collective sigh of relief! Don't think I won't remember this.

What I am talking about is moving children. We have been stalling on putting Rhino in his own big bed and moving Marmoset out of the crib. We really can't stall anymore because the child can put the side of the crib down and put herself to bed now. It sounds cool but I assure you it is not. That means that sooner than later she will figure out that her arms are long enough to reach down and release the catch thus freeing herself as well.

Now I know putting her in the toddler bed or her own big girl bed is not going to be much different but at least then I can retrain her. So we were investigating bunk beds. Grand Keeper and Silverback were going to get them so that Rhino could have his own bed for his birthday but they are 600 miles away so the logistics were killing us.

Then Lion called me today from work. Ms. M has a set of off white bunk beds with the mattresses, a dresser and a mirror that she will freecycle to us. We'll just owe her one. We can pick them up on Sunday.

Holy Housing Issues Batman! I have to prep two rooms for the grand swap-a-roo in less than 48 hours. Dismantle and stash the crib and rocking chair, sort through a butt load of clothes, find two more sets of bedding and (most importantly) come to grips with the fact that for the first time in 5 years there will not be a baby within our gates.

Do you know what this means? The next time I say, "If you're gonna throw a fit, you can just go sit!" to Marmoset, she'll actually have a place to sit. No more dragging a Rhino out from under his bed in the morning. Orangutan will actually be able to go to bed with someone who sleeps on her same schedule - not an hour and a half behind.

I can finally paint a boy room and a girl room. No more gender neutral. I could just about cry. But instead I think I'm going to go whip up a little cocktail and celebrate the fact that I am one step closer to no more diapers - EVER!

And that's exactly how immaculate their room will stay too.

Ouch! I think I just snorted vodka!

Welcome to the MomDot Blog Party! (And my 100th Post!!)

I am so incredibly thrilled that this is Post 100! What a way to hit it!

So our Theme for Day 1: Intro to Blog Party, Introduce us to your family and share Holiday pics or videos of past years.


Sponsors: Day One Blog Party Question is Brought to you by La Belle Toile and This and That by Randi

VIP BLOGS to visit are Parent Reviewers , Mom Most Traveled, Mommy Zabs, MomStart, HipposToes, Run DMT

So you want to meet the Zoo? Brace yourself!

So first there’s me – I’m Sarah and I’m the Zookeeper (aka Mom!). When I’m not blogging (all 6 hours of the day that that happens!), I really enjoy cooking and baking; playing playdough; sewing and on the occasion that I can hide out on the deck with a book and a coffee – reading. I grew up in rural PA and now live in suburban Atlanta. I am not June Cleaver or Martha Stewart but I try really hard (or so I pretend).

Five minutes ago after children!>





Then you have Beloved, the Large Male Lion, my hubby Stephen. We met at the bank where I was working in 2002, and became pretty good friends. Our first official date was for New Year’s 2003 and in October of the same year we were married. I poke fun at him a lot but I love him with all I am and really don’t know where I would be without him – probably back in PA counting cows for a living.

Which brings us to Molly, Mo or as she is known here at the Zoo the Orangutan. Our firstborn is a bit of a wild thing. She has a very vivid imagination and loves to draw, sing, and make up stories. Mo is a HUGE Scooby Doo fan but has recently taken to singing the Smurfs theme song. What can I say? We like Boomerang!

Tucker. What in the world can I say? He comes by his Small Male Rhino alter ego naturally. Stephen and I can be stubborn but this boy makes us look like waffle makers. If he has made his mind up to do (or not do) something, you had better have large reserves of fruit on hand to make him change his mind. He is a very funny child and for those who can understand his small speech issues he can come out with some really great one liners. To which he would reply, “Aww shucks Ma! It’s nuffin!”

And now for the Pygmy Marmoset also known as Meghan, Munch or Mega Munch. If you took Mo and Tuck and mashed them together you would have Munch. She can throw a fit with the Rhino that makes dogs howl but she will dance and sing with Molly every chance she gets. I gave her the nickname Munch when she was very small because it was next to impossible to keep up with her appetite. Now that she is a full blown toddler I really don’t have to worry about it. If everyone else has left the table she just moves from seat to seat and finishes off the leftovers. Very entertaining to watch!

And finally you have the Security Guard, our Jack Russell, Max. I brought him into this family when he was just a couple of years old and Stephen was kind enough to adopt him. Now you would never know he was ever MY dog. Meghan wakes up in the morning looking for him. Tuck tries to get him to sleep in his bed every night and Daddy-O really doesn’t know how to nap without Max curled up with him. At eight years old he is incredibly tolerant of the ear pulling and belly hugging but every now and then I get that look that says, “Mom! Make them stop!”
And that my friends is The Zoo. It's a busy little place but we call it home. Feel free to stop by anytime! There may even be some cookies in it for you! Happiest of all theHoliday Seasons!

Want to Party like a rock star with the rest of the Mom Dotters? Head over to MomDot and meet the rest of the crew!

Mom Tip #54

Motherhood is gross!

I know I posted a vlog along this line during Motherhood Means (which you may have guessed by now was nixed due to lack of interest). In case you missed it and need a lesson in how NOT to empty a training potty, here you go!

But the point was driven home to me today. I was cleaning the bathroom and had already had to pull one child (Marmoset) and a dog out of the toilet! So you can guess that I was less than thrilled when I turned around to see Marmoset brushing her teeth with the Lion's toothbrush and B-Dog's teeth with MY toothbrush! I am having a hard time expressing just how nauseated I was when I saw this. I of course have disposed of the toothbrush but the heebie jeebies are still stalking me.

I went about my business cleaning the bathroom only to realize that the job "Mom" is, by its very nature, gross. Let me tell you all the gross things I have done in the past week that fall under my job title.

*Cleaning out the fridge. We all know what that is like so I will refrain from going into detail.
*Cleaning the toilets - potty chair included. All I can say for commentary on that is - Men! Of all ages!
*Changing butts. ::sigh::
*Washing the dog. I wash him because he smells. Somehow I always forget that I end up smelling like him every time I wash him.
*Sippy cup hunting. That funky smell in the bedroom is not coming from the laundry basket or the diaper pail.
*Sippy cup washing. Once you find them you have to so something with them.
*Playroom cleaning. Have I ever told you that Cheeze-Its will be the food of the cockroaches after the nuclear holocaust?

If anyone ever asks you why mothers shower at night rather than in the morning, I will give you the easy answer. To wash the crud off! We do not shower in the morning "to wake up" because we are already awake - probably before the rest of the house. We do not shower while everyone else is napping. That's when we get all of our gross stuff done without interruption. We wash up to our elbows before cooking dinner because we know that we are going to get the rest of our bath while we do baths in a little while.

The old hymn says "And they'll know we are Christians by our love." The mom version says, "And they'll know we are mothers by our stench."

Mom Tip #51

If you give a mom a grocery list, be ready to give her a cookie.

Did I mention that the Zoo has had 2 touring exhibits this week? Yeah well, we have. Needless to say it had been an interesting week. Which could explain a lot about this tip.

On my To Do list yesterday were three little words that I dread. “Make grocery list.” Ugh. But I pulled up my big girls and got to work.

If you give a mom a grocery list, she will write a few things on it. Then she will open the pantry to see what else is running low. In an effort to check the sugar, she will end up cleaning out and organizing the entire pantry only to learn that she is OUT of sugar. So she’ll write that on the list. She will then decide to check the other spices.

While in the spice cabinet (which she will also clean out and organize) she will remember that she has not taken anything out for dinner. She will go to the freezer to take something out and will start to stare blankly at the half gallon of rocky road ice cream. As water begins to drip from the ice maker she will snap out of it and run for the mop.

As long as she has the mop out, she will decide that this is a good time to mop the kitchen floor. Only when she opens the cabinet she will notice that she is very low on cleaning products. She should put those on the grocery list. The grocery list!!

She will try to focus and will open the next cabinet in line – the canned good cabinet. Can anyone say clean out and organize? As she writes tomatoes on the list she will remember seeing a coupon for tomatoes in the Sunday paper.

Two hours later after clipping, sorting, and filing coupons, she will try to remember what she was doing in the first place. Instead she will put away the (still dry) mop and switch out the laundry.

Then she will sit down and have a cookie. After all, she earned it! She’s been working hard!

The Bathroom is around the corner

Random I know. But I took a page from some other mom's I've run into out there in Bloggy land. I expanded to have a side blog that is "big girl" stuff. Things that might not involve my children.

Here's the poop. (hee hee, I'm still funny!) I think when I clean and I think really deep thoughts when I'm in the bathroom - cleaning, not using! You dorks!! So that's where Thoughts from the Bowl came in.

I don't know about you but my bathroom isn't always pretty so I must warn you that there may be days where the Zoo has you crying tears of joy and the Bowl just has you crying. It's my life and I can do that.

Thanks for hanging out at the Zoo. Here's to a great fall!

We interrupt this blog....

'Cause apparently I might be a little bit cool!

So Sissy over at My Kids Might be Martians rewarded me with the following...

So now I get to pass it on to 7 bloggers who have influenced me and who I greatly enjoy!

1. Mommy Cracked

2. The X Mom

3. Sleeping Mommy

4. Wiping up Snot

5. Mommy Confessions

Unfortunately I'm still growing my blogroll and since Sissy and the Martians are the ones who awarded me I hate to pass it back. She would be #1 on the list otherwise. Thank you to my faithful readers for tolerating my nonsense. I love you all!! (cue Oscar music....)