©Lisa Barker
If you have more than one child, you know that the groceries get divvied up before you even unload them. It’s called a ‘pack mentality’ and some things immediately go on the endangered species list the minute they’re brought into the house, things like:
Cookies, chips & Juice Paks for school lunches: Somewhere between the car and the front door they simply evaporate.
Hand soap in a pump: They never wash unless you tell them how to do so in great detail and yet there’s never any soap left in the pump.
Conditioner: We’ve got seven bottles of shampoo that are just less than half full, but there’s never any conditioner left except for that little bit of water to swish around the bottle.
Milk: I’m fairly certain they inhale it. The only time I see a full gallon of milk is in the grocery store. The jug in my refrigerator has only enough to coat the bottom of the container.
Paper towels: All I ever see is the empty roll. My kids use paper towels to dab the corners of their mouths and then toss them in the trash.
Tissues: These are used by the handful to sop up messes because there are no more paper towels.
Napkins: These are used to blow their noses because there are no more tissues.
Toilet paper: What toilet paper? Look, I’ve seen the laundry. I know the boys aren’t using any toilet paper and a third child is still in diapers. So where does it all go?
Orange juice: The kids think I’m joking when I show them a 4-ounce glass and tell them it’s for juice.
Cereal: The cornflakes and bran flakes will sit on the shelf for a month untouched, but the sugar bombs are gone in two days.
Sugar: Once they polish off the sugar bombs, there goes all the sugar on the cornflakes and bran flakes.
Bread: I think they all run to the kitchen and attack the bag at once, like mad squirrels, and sit there and nibble on it until it’s gone.
Ice cream: I buy ice cream by the bucket to save money. The kids eat it by the bucket because it’s there.
Peanut butter: The only peanut butter in this house is on the lid, the pantry doorknob and the dishtowel.
If my husband and I want to eat, we have to take a permanent black marker and write our names on the food we want. Don’t laugh. My husband has an entire shelf in the pantry with food with his name on it. It’s what you have to do when you live with children otherwise these people will eat you out of house and home.
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Jelly Mom™ is written by Lisa Barker, mother of five and author of "Just Because Your Kids Drive You Insane...Doesn't Mean You Are A Bad Parent!" and is syndicated through Parent To Parent™. To publish Jelly Mom, buy the book or leave comments, please visit http://www.jellymom.com. Sign up for the complimentary Jelly Mom™ weekly newsletter and receive a BONUS GIFT!
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Saturday, July 26, 2008
Navigating Commercial Landmines
©Lisa Barker
I’m waiting for one of the kids to ask me what reptile dysfunction is. There’s no escaping the ads on television. I imagine how the talk will go so that I’m prepared.
“What's er-reptile dysfunction, Momma?”
“It’s what happens when your frog can’t catch flies anymore. Or when your chameleon can’t change colors. Or when your lizard can’t grow a tail. Or when your iguana can’t....”
“Woman, what are you telling them?”
“We’re talking about reptile dysfunction.”
“You're getting your reptiles and amphibians confused.”
“Momma, what happens to Geckos?”
“They get upstaged by whiney cavemen.”
“What?”
“Don’t worry about them. They’re upstanding amphibians, I think, very charming and polite. And they can save you a lot of money.”
This is when I get ‘the look’ from one of my kids. The very same look I expect to get when I am a great-grandmother and they park me in the corner and send the great-grandbabies over to entertain me and I scare them by popping my dentures out at them.
“Oh, look! Our show is back on.” We settle back only to have our entertainment interrupted by more sponsors of products for adults.
“Momma, what’s a tampon?”
“It’s a magic wand that makes women wear white and dance around barefoot once a month.”
I don’t know what’s worse. Advertising these products for the general public to view—including children—or the brainless writers that actually think women dance around in white clothes when they’re having Auntie Flo over for tea. There’s no amount of anti-depressants, anti-water-retention, anti-crabbiness, anti-bloating, anti-aching that’s going to make a woman wear white for such occasions.
It’s like those commercials for women’s underwear where they have about twenty women dancing around in their skivvies because they are so happy with the fit. You’ll never see a commercial for men’s underwear done like that. Men have standards.
I teach my kids to respect another’s privacy and we’re all embarrassed to be caught in our underwear...but it’s okay to dance around in them on television because you get money for that.
“Momma, what’s herpes?”
“Uhhhhhhhh.” I can’t think of a good segue. What do I tell a five-year old? It’s a sickness that the man has and the woman really, really hopes she doesn’t have? Think, think, think...herpes, burpies...Slurpees!
“Hey, that reminds me! When’s the last time we had a Slurpee?”
Phew! We don’t dwell on STDs too much. But soon a commercial for Cialis runs.
“What’s ED?”
That again. “Er-reptile dysfunction.”
“I don’t see any frogs or lizards. I just see two naked old people in bathtubs.”
“The frogs are in the tubs.” Or are they toads? At that age you get a little bumpy like a toad.
“Ewwwwww.”
“Yeah. Ewwwwww.”
---------------------------------------------------
Jelly Mom™ is written by Lisa Barker, mother of five and author of "Just Because Your Kids Drive You Insane...Doesn't Mean You Are A Bad Parent!" and is syndicated through Parent To Parent™. To publish Jelly Mom, buy the book or leave comments, please visit http://www.jellymom.com. Sign up for the complimentary Jelly Mom™ weekly newsletter and receive a BONUS GIFT!
I’m waiting for one of the kids to ask me what reptile dysfunction is. There’s no escaping the ads on television. I imagine how the talk will go so that I’m prepared.
“What's er-reptile dysfunction, Momma?”
“It’s what happens when your frog can’t catch flies anymore. Or when your chameleon can’t change colors. Or when your lizard can’t grow a tail. Or when your iguana can’t....”
“Woman, what are you telling them?”
“We’re talking about reptile dysfunction.”
“You're getting your reptiles and amphibians confused.”
“Momma, what happens to Geckos?”
“They get upstaged by whiney cavemen.”
“What?”
“Don’t worry about them. They’re upstanding amphibians, I think, very charming and polite. And they can save you a lot of money.”
This is when I get ‘the look’ from one of my kids. The very same look I expect to get when I am a great-grandmother and they park me in the corner and send the great-grandbabies over to entertain me and I scare them by popping my dentures out at them.
“Oh, look! Our show is back on.” We settle back only to have our entertainment interrupted by more sponsors of products for adults.
“Momma, what’s a tampon?”
“It’s a magic wand that makes women wear white and dance around barefoot once a month.”
I don’t know what’s worse. Advertising these products for the general public to view—including children—or the brainless writers that actually think women dance around in white clothes when they’re having Auntie Flo over for tea. There’s no amount of anti-depressants, anti-water-retention, anti-crabbiness, anti-bloating, anti-aching that’s going to make a woman wear white for such occasions.
It’s like those commercials for women’s underwear where they have about twenty women dancing around in their skivvies because they are so happy with the fit. You’ll never see a commercial for men’s underwear done like that. Men have standards.
I teach my kids to respect another’s privacy and we’re all embarrassed to be caught in our underwear...but it’s okay to dance around in them on television because you get money for that.
“Momma, what’s herpes?”
“Uhhhhhhhh.” I can’t think of a good segue. What do I tell a five-year old? It’s a sickness that the man has and the woman really, really hopes she doesn’t have? Think, think, think...herpes, burpies...Slurpees!
“Hey, that reminds me! When’s the last time we had a Slurpee?”
Phew! We don’t dwell on STDs too much. But soon a commercial for Cialis runs.
“What’s ED?”
That again. “Er-reptile dysfunction.”
“I don’t see any frogs or lizards. I just see two naked old people in bathtubs.”
“The frogs are in the tubs.” Or are they toads? At that age you get a little bumpy like a toad.
“Ewwwwww.”
“Yeah. Ewwwwww.”
---------------------------------------------------
Jelly Mom™ is written by Lisa Barker, mother of five and author of "Just Because Your Kids Drive You Insane...Doesn't Mean You Are A Bad Parent!" and is syndicated through Parent To Parent™. To publish Jelly Mom, buy the book or leave comments, please visit http://www.jellymom.com. Sign up for the complimentary Jelly Mom™ weekly newsletter and receive a BONUS GIFT!
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Pet Craziness
©Lisa Barker
Some people think my husband and I are nuts because we have seven cats and they are all spayed, vaccinated and get regular check-ups. That’s too much money to spend on animals they say. But I think people who invest $149.00 in a cat stroller have gone off the deep end.
Until I found out how much those frivolous things cost, I just assumed that they were for people who substituted pets for children—for fun. I never imagined how much a cat stroller cost. They range in price from $80.00 to $200.00.
I’ve never even spent more than $60.00 on a stroller for children. And how ridiculous! If I took my cats for a walk in a stroller, even in territory they are familiar with, they’d be having a massive panic attack. Can you blame them? What if other cats saw them? They’d be the laughing stock of the neighborhood.
I love animals. I just don’t want to have to compete with them in Costco’s for free samples. It’s bad enough I have to beat off the kids (and not just my own). People carry mini-dogs everywhere. In time, these creatures are going to have nothing but nubs for legs because they just won’t have any use for them any more. They’ll become nothing but paperweights and doorstops.
I wonder if people with accessory dogs hold them over the toilet like some people do babies. Why not? They do everything else for their pets.
My sister had a guinea pig that had a cleaner tushie than some people’s newborns. The little rodent ate more than little green pellets and veggies. He had a sweet tooth for jellybeans. And his mommy wiped his little rodent drool off his chin with a tissue every time, too.
Now she has a chihuahua and it’s the fourth child in her family. That dog is cleaner than my five-year old. It has to be. Her husband bites and sucks on the dog’s ears and the dog doesn’t care. Stupid dog.
When we were growing up, we bought my mom’s terrier a sweater and boots. The poor dog looked like he’d stepped in wet cement when he walked and had to pull each paw straight up as if the floor was sucking each one back down. And such a long-suffering expression, too.
How many cats did I dress in baby clothes when I was a young girl? Cute little frills and bows and a glare that could thaw the polar caps faster than global warming.
We humans can be quite silly when it comes to pets. Don’t tell my husband, but I sometimes dress up our cats when he’s at work. They just wook so cute!
---------------------------------------------------
Jelly Mom™ is written by Lisa Barker, mother of five and author of "Just Because Your Kids Drive You Insane...Doesn't Mean You Are A Bad Parent!" and is syndicated through Parent To Parent™. To publish Jelly Mom, buy the book or leave comments, please visit http://www.jellymom.com/. Sign up for the complimentary Jelly Mom™ weekly newsletter and receive a BONUS GIFT!
Some people think my husband and I are nuts because we have seven cats and they are all spayed, vaccinated and get regular check-ups. That’s too much money to spend on animals they say. But I think people who invest $149.00 in a cat stroller have gone off the deep end.
Until I found out how much those frivolous things cost, I just assumed that they were for people who substituted pets for children—for fun. I never imagined how much a cat stroller cost. They range in price from $80.00 to $200.00.
I’ve never even spent more than $60.00 on a stroller for children. And how ridiculous! If I took my cats for a walk in a stroller, even in territory they are familiar with, they’d be having a massive panic attack. Can you blame them? What if other cats saw them? They’d be the laughing stock of the neighborhood.
I love animals. I just don’t want to have to compete with them in Costco’s for free samples. It’s bad enough I have to beat off the kids (and not just my own). People carry mini-dogs everywhere. In time, these creatures are going to have nothing but nubs for legs because they just won’t have any use for them any more. They’ll become nothing but paperweights and doorstops.
I wonder if people with accessory dogs hold them over the toilet like some people do babies. Why not? They do everything else for their pets.
My sister had a guinea pig that had a cleaner tushie than some people’s newborns. The little rodent ate more than little green pellets and veggies. He had a sweet tooth for jellybeans. And his mommy wiped his little rodent drool off his chin with a tissue every time, too.
Now she has a chihuahua and it’s the fourth child in her family. That dog is cleaner than my five-year old. It has to be. Her husband bites and sucks on the dog’s ears and the dog doesn’t care. Stupid dog.
When we were growing up, we bought my mom’s terrier a sweater and boots. The poor dog looked like he’d stepped in wet cement when he walked and had to pull each paw straight up as if the floor was sucking each one back down. And such a long-suffering expression, too.
How many cats did I dress in baby clothes when I was a young girl? Cute little frills and bows and a glare that could thaw the polar caps faster than global warming.
We humans can be quite silly when it comes to pets. Don’t tell my husband, but I sometimes dress up our cats when he’s at work. They just wook so cute!
---------------------------------------------------
Jelly Mom™ is written by Lisa Barker, mother of five and author of "Just Because Your Kids Drive You Insane...Doesn't Mean You Are A Bad Parent!" and is syndicated through Parent To Parent™. To publish Jelly Mom, buy the book or leave comments, please visit http://www.jellymom.com/. Sign up for the complimentary Jelly Mom™ weekly newsletter and receive a BONUS GIFT!
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Time To Talk About IBS
©Lisa Barker
(An excerpt from Just Because Your Kids Drive You Insane...Doesn't Mean You Are A Bad Parent!)
Let's be frank and discuss something that all to many find uncomfortable--IBS, or, as we moms call it: "Irritable Boy Syndrome."
For far too long it has been the girls that shoulder the weight of unpredictable hormones and mood swings even though many of us have grown up with brothers that were equally as temperamental.
In my case I have TWO sons now that qualify as being stricken with IBS. The seven-year-old will burst into tears or fits of anger at a drop of a hat. The one-year-old is a never-ending wailing English ambulance. What's a mother to do?
I can't talk it out with my eldest son. He will burst into cries of "I caaaaan't!" And the youngest just wants to cling to me like a monkey, afraid that if he lets go, I will disappear into the bathroom never to return. (And some days he has good reason to fear this, let me tell you!)
There is certainly no doubt that once they discover this column and realize it's about them, there's going to be a cold front that will last for months. Hmmmm. Maybe I just solved my problem. The silent treatment I can live with at this stage....
Nobody ever told me raising boys would be like this! In fact, my grandmother insists that boys are easier to raise than girls. I'd like to know how! But have I just set myself up to be cursed when they all hit their teens?
Perhaps it's true and the boys will eventually outgrow this stage only to have it resurface as adults when it might be particularly useful. Unlike girls, who have to succumb to the crankies because they are at the mercy of a cycle for this and a cycle for that for the rest of their lives.
Have you ever had a man ask you if the clothes he is wearing make him look fat? Have you men ever had your buddy burst into tears because his wife didn't pack him the right kind of sandwich? At some point the male will outgrow the waterworks. I believe that.
What I want to know is WHEN this is going to happen?! I can't take anymore! It's getting so bad that when my husband comes home from work and asks me how my day went all I can say is" I-I-I-I don-n-n-n-n-n-n't kno-o-o-o-o--w!" Everything is a whine from me. I have to purge. It's all I hear anymore!
I'm lying in bed at night and I hear it in my sleep. "Mo-m-m-m-m-m-m! I ne-e-e-e-e-e-e-d you-u-u-u-u-u-u!" And my husband can't sleep because I'm yelling at the kids in mine.
How do you sleep with a woman that keeps bursting out with "Knock it off already!"?
"But I haven't tried anything yet, dear!"
The worst part about the whinies is that no matter who has them, they are contagious. I might have a happy houseful, but then a few more come home from school, and one starts in with the whinies, and the next thing I know all five are whining!
Now, I've seen this ad on television that claims it can cure IBS. I thought I'd give them a call. How much should I give to a seven-year-old boy and his one-year-old accomplice, do you think? Will it induce sleep? And if it does, HOW SOON?
After twenty minutes of my questions, their customer service responded: "I don-n-n-n-n-n-n't kno-w-w-w-w-w!"
I'll just have to suck it up and deal with it until these boys are grown.
---------------------------------------------------
Jelly Mom™ is written by Lisa Barker, mother of five and author of "Just Because Your Kids Drive You Insane...Doesn't Mean You Are A Bad Parent!" and is syndicated through Parent To Parent™. To publish Jelly Mom, buy the book or leave comments, please visit http://www.jellymom.com. Sign up for the complimentary Jelly Mom™ weekly newsletter and receive a BONUS GIFT!
(An excerpt from Just Because Your Kids Drive You Insane...Doesn't Mean You Are A Bad Parent!)
Let's be frank and discuss something that all to many find uncomfortable--IBS, or, as we moms call it: "Irritable Boy Syndrome."
For far too long it has been the girls that shoulder the weight of unpredictable hormones and mood swings even though many of us have grown up with brothers that were equally as temperamental.
In my case I have TWO sons now that qualify as being stricken with IBS. The seven-year-old will burst into tears or fits of anger at a drop of a hat. The one-year-old is a never-ending wailing English ambulance. What's a mother to do?
I can't talk it out with my eldest son. He will burst into cries of "I caaaaan't!" And the youngest just wants to cling to me like a monkey, afraid that if he lets go, I will disappear into the bathroom never to return. (And some days he has good reason to fear this, let me tell you!)
There is certainly no doubt that once they discover this column and realize it's about them, there's going to be a cold front that will last for months. Hmmmm. Maybe I just solved my problem. The silent treatment I can live with at this stage....
Nobody ever told me raising boys would be like this! In fact, my grandmother insists that boys are easier to raise than girls. I'd like to know how! But have I just set myself up to be cursed when they all hit their teens?
Perhaps it's true and the boys will eventually outgrow this stage only to have it resurface as adults when it might be particularly useful. Unlike girls, who have to succumb to the crankies because they are at the mercy of a cycle for this and a cycle for that for the rest of their lives.
Have you ever had a man ask you if the clothes he is wearing make him look fat? Have you men ever had your buddy burst into tears because his wife didn't pack him the right kind of sandwich? At some point the male will outgrow the waterworks. I believe that.
What I want to know is WHEN this is going to happen?! I can't take anymore! It's getting so bad that when my husband comes home from work and asks me how my day went all I can say is" I-I-I-I don-n-n-n-n-n-n't kno-o-o-o-o--w!" Everything is a whine from me. I have to purge. It's all I hear anymore!
I'm lying in bed at night and I hear it in my sleep. "Mo-m-m-m-m-m-m! I ne-e-e-e-e-e-e-d you-u-u-u-u-u-u!" And my husband can't sleep because I'm yelling at the kids in mine.
How do you sleep with a woman that keeps bursting out with "Knock it off already!"?
"But I haven't tried anything yet, dear!"
The worst part about the whinies is that no matter who has them, they are contagious. I might have a happy houseful, but then a few more come home from school, and one starts in with the whinies, and the next thing I know all five are whining!
Now, I've seen this ad on television that claims it can cure IBS. I thought I'd give them a call. How much should I give to a seven-year-old boy and his one-year-old accomplice, do you think? Will it induce sleep? And if it does, HOW SOON?
After twenty minutes of my questions, their customer service responded: "I don-n-n-n-n-n-n't kno-w-w-w-w-w!"
I'll just have to suck it up and deal with it until these boys are grown.
---------------------------------------------------
Jelly Mom™ is written by Lisa Barker, mother of five and author of "Just Because Your Kids Drive You Insane...Doesn't Mean You Are A Bad Parent!" and is syndicated through Parent To Parent™. To publish Jelly Mom, buy the book or leave comments, please visit http://www.jellymom.com. Sign up for the complimentary Jelly Mom™ weekly newsletter and receive a BONUS GIFT!
Thursday, July 3, 2008
Three Sounds That Make Mom Run
©Lisa Barker
(An excerpt from Just Because Your Kids Drive You Insane...Doesn't Mean You Are A Bad Parent!)
There are only three sounds that send a full-grown mother running. They are:
*Screams of terror and pain
*Silence
*Yakking
Screams of terror and pain. These screams stand out among all the other screams and cries children make. A scream of terror or pain is a very primal scream that, no matter what a mom is doing, it seizes her hips, rotates her toward the source and compels her legs to start running.
There’s just a BIG difference in a scream like this that sets it a part from all others. In fact a mom can probably tell you upon hearing the very first note just what the injury or fright entails.
And there is always a child waiting for her arrival because Mom is the ONLY one that can help as far as the child is concerned. It doesn’t matter how old the child is, this is a job for Mom alone.
Silence. Any good mom worth her salt will tell you that the sound of silence is a sound worthy of panic. Whether she has one child or a dozen, the minute the house, or the yard or the street suddenly goes quiet, Mom knows that SOMEBODY is up to no good and she is summoned by the silence and MUST discover the reason for it.
The sound of silence is very much like the sound of guilt, something that mothers are very adept at interpreting since they live with their own abundant supply and have plenty to dish out. If only children realized that silence gives away their misdeeds, they could get away with so much more.
In fact, if they’d just bicker and babble while they were up to no good, a parent would never be the wiser. But children are not yet able to master doing two things at one time, and that is completely in a mom’s favor.
Yakking. Whether it’s a child or a pet, a mom can hear the sound of upchucking from a dead sleep or in the middle of any racket. The urge is always to grab a towel and run while she yells for everyone to clear the room so she can isolate the yakker and the messy results.
You don’t want pets or little ones poking around inquisitively when there is an active yakker in the house.
And yet, there’s always an audience with at least one informant that stands and gawks and states the obvious through the whole ordeal:
Mom, the cat is yakking!
Mom the cat yakked!
Eew! Mom, the baby is touching it!
Mom, you’re cleaning that yak, huh?
Wow, what a mess....
Needless to say, all this is why, as much as a mother complains from time to time, the truth is that the sound of babbling, squawking and bickering is music to a mom’s ears. It means that all is well!
---------------------------------------------------
Jelly Mom™ is written by Lisa Barker, mother of five and author of "Just Because Your Kids Drive You Insane...Doesn't Mean You Are A Bad Parent!" and is syndicated through Parent To Parent™. To publish Jelly Mom, buy the book or leave comments, please visit http://www.jellymom.com. Sign up for the complimentary Jelly Mom™ weekly newsletter and receive a BONUS GIFT!
(An excerpt from Just Because Your Kids Drive You Insane...Doesn't Mean You Are A Bad Parent!)
There are only three sounds that send a full-grown mother running. They are:
*Screams of terror and pain
*Silence
*Yakking
Screams of terror and pain. These screams stand out among all the other screams and cries children make. A scream of terror or pain is a very primal scream that, no matter what a mom is doing, it seizes her hips, rotates her toward the source and compels her legs to start running.
There’s just a BIG difference in a scream like this that sets it a part from all others. In fact a mom can probably tell you upon hearing the very first note just what the injury or fright entails.
And there is always a child waiting for her arrival because Mom is the ONLY one that can help as far as the child is concerned. It doesn’t matter how old the child is, this is a job for Mom alone.
Silence. Any good mom worth her salt will tell you that the sound of silence is a sound worthy of panic. Whether she has one child or a dozen, the minute the house, or the yard or the street suddenly goes quiet, Mom knows that SOMEBODY is up to no good and she is summoned by the silence and MUST discover the reason for it.
The sound of silence is very much like the sound of guilt, something that mothers are very adept at interpreting since they live with their own abundant supply and have plenty to dish out. If only children realized that silence gives away their misdeeds, they could get away with so much more.
In fact, if they’d just bicker and babble while they were up to no good, a parent would never be the wiser. But children are not yet able to master doing two things at one time, and that is completely in a mom’s favor.
Yakking. Whether it’s a child or a pet, a mom can hear the sound of upchucking from a dead sleep or in the middle of any racket. The urge is always to grab a towel and run while she yells for everyone to clear the room so she can isolate the yakker and the messy results.
You don’t want pets or little ones poking around inquisitively when there is an active yakker in the house.
And yet, there’s always an audience with at least one informant that stands and gawks and states the obvious through the whole ordeal:
Mom, the cat is yakking!
Mom the cat yakked!
Eew! Mom, the baby is touching it!
Mom, you’re cleaning that yak, huh?
Wow, what a mess....
Needless to say, all this is why, as much as a mother complains from time to time, the truth is that the sound of babbling, squawking and bickering is music to a mom’s ears. It means that all is well!
---------------------------------------------------
Jelly Mom™ is written by Lisa Barker, mother of five and author of "Just Because Your Kids Drive You Insane...Doesn't Mean You Are A Bad Parent!" and is syndicated through Parent To Parent™. To publish Jelly Mom, buy the book or leave comments, please visit http://www.jellymom.com. Sign up for the complimentary Jelly Mom™ weekly newsletter and receive a BONUS GIFT!
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