Apparently I’m a Bad Parent

Message of the day: no matter how you parent, someone is going to tell you that you are wrong, that you are horrible, and that you should have been neutered. You can’t please everyone. Why bring this up? Well I received a rather interesting email from someone I interacted with (briefly I might add) on social media. It was regarding a comment my 4 year old daughter had said that I found cute, and decided to share. What was this comment that spurred such a heated letter? What horrible things did I allow my daughter to say?

“Mommy, when I grow up I’m going to marry a girl and we are both going to be princesses!”

Call the police, call social services, and while your at it, why don’t you call a priest! (That’s sarcasm, for those of you that lack a sense of humor.) This person was so completely stricken that I did not punish her for saying such, what did she say… oh yes…”heinous and ridiculous statements.” And how could I be such a “disgusting, sinful villain posing as a parent,” for no “true parent” would not allow their child to say such awful things. And what’s worse is that I was okay with it. That’s right, I told my daughter, “You can marry whoever you want.” The atrocity!

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First, my daughter is 4. Two weeks ago she wanted to marry her Grampy. I mean she marries her stuffed bear every weekend. Are you going to freak out and accuse me of allowing her to take part in bestiality? Well crap, you probably would.

Second, if my daughter grows up and wants to marry a woman, then she grows up and marries a woman. Does that affect your life? No, pretty sure it doesn’t. Unless of course she marries your daughter, in which case I will see you at the wedding. Forgive me if I punch you in the face. I promise, it will be an accident. Sort of.

Third, how is it that every generation finds some magical thing to be offended by? First there was the fight for equal rights for blacks. Then there was the fight for equal rights for women. Now its a fight for equal rights for those of a different sexual orientation. Are you seeing a trend here? People want to be equal. Why not let them? So what if you view it as sinful, its not like their actions are your sin. So kindly shut your trap.

Fourth, maybe I LIKE being a villain. Villain’s get to have more fun. And they look cooler doing it. And they get the cool powers. So there.

Kayla

Just Like Mommy

It has been happening often over the past few weeks. The indisputable proof that my daughter is my child. Don’t get me wrong, I know she is my daughter, I was present during the labor after all. But its the little things that prove she is in fact a miniature me.

Don't let that smile fool you...

Don’t let that smile fool you…

For example, she is a sarcastic little brat. Yup. That’s right. I called her a brat. With her big brown eyes, and sassy little mouth, she shoots out a retort that leaves you momentarily speechless. The way she props her little hand on her hip, and somehow manages to look down on you, despite being a good 2ft shorter than you. The way the sides of her lips tilt up in a cheeky smirk, and her little eyebrows raise in a perfect arch. She. Is. Me. Well except the eyebrow thing, I cannot for the life of me make my eyebrows do that.

Last night, the little she-devil got into the fluff. I noticed she disappeared into the kitchen for a good few minutes when it suddenly struck me. She was getting into stuff. Not just any stuff, the fluff I had just used for their hot cocoa. (Because fluff is way better than those puny marshmellows SwissMiss gives you) As I move, loudly I might add, towards the kitchen, she pops her head out with an innocent smile.

“What were you doing?”

“Looking at stuff.”

“Oh? What were you looking at?” She lets out a dramatic sigh and looks to the ceiling.

“It’s a kitchen, mom, I was looking at kitchen stuff.” She’s not even 5 yet, she’s not allowed to call me mom! I am still mommy, dammit!

“So the fluff on your face just magically got there?” The dramatic look drops off her face, and she immediately tries to hide the evidence.

“I didn’t eat it.” Uh huh. Magic fluff. At least she didn’t blame her sister, I view this as an improvement.

As I investigated the kitchen, it would appear she hadn’t been able to get the cover back on the fluff in time. So I put on my angry mom face, hands on hip, and stare her down.

“Are you supposed to stick your finger in Fluff, or any container of food for that matter?”

“No.”

“And should you lie about it?”

“No.” At this point she is rocking a pout. A full pout with the big doe eyes. Not falling for it. So I tell her she can’t have dessert. The pout morphs. It becomes something I am growing very accustomed to. Pure sass.

“Really mom? Like you don’t eat fluff?” Color me surprised! I do sneak a bit of fluff every now and then! Darn her! After a quick agonizing moment of that sassy, sarcastic smirk, I finally find a retort.

“I use a spoon! Now go wash your hands!”

Kayla: 1….. Mommy: 0

Women of Worth

SAHM-v-WM-1

Originally, I had a post planned for today to cover something simple, something fun about raising kids in 4 feet of snow. It’s great, I promise. No sarcasm there… Anyways I had fully planned it, and even took fun photos to share. However while waiting in line to purchase my life fuel, a.k.a. Dunks Coffee, I overheard a rather interesting conversation. The words are pretty spot on, thanks to my memory. Although my memory only works well when its something that pisses me off. Here it goes…

Person 1: “I know, I can’t believe it. Some people these days.”

Person 2: “But yeah, if they don’t hire her, she will assume she’ll probably claim prejudice.”

Person 1: “It’s got nothing to do with that. I mean she hasn’t worked in like 5 years.”

Person 2: “I can’t believe she expected to get the job even though she hasn’t been doing anything but “raising kids.” (This person even did the quote gesture) I did that too, but I still worked. It’s not like this is the south where they have 5 or 6 kids popping out.”

Person 1: “Raising kids my ass. She lives in Chestnut Hill. I guarantee you she had a nanny.” (This person then laughs, which annoyed me further.) At this point, I am just seconds away from saying something, but I bit my tongue. I hadn’t had my coffee yet, and it was 9 degrees out, so I knew if I opened my big fat mouth it would be to lay waste to their puny existence. But do you know what is even more horrible about this? It was two women, who were mothers (deduced from their conversation), talking about the other woman as being less than them.

Women often feel that they have less advantage in a work environment because men look down on them. We fight for equal rights and equal stance with these men, but what about equal stance with other women? Is a woman who stayed at home raising children any less valuable to a society than one who worked instead? Is a woman who worked any less of a mother than one who stayed home? No. They are both valuable, and they are both mothers. .

Women want to be treated as equals to men. They want to be on the same footing, the same pedestal. Yet at the same time, they put down other women. Working moms put down stay-at-home moms. Stay-at-home moms put down working moms. How can a woman gripe about the unfairness of gender bias, when she does the same thing?  

Perhaps this is a rant, but I couldn’t help it. I don’t know the woman they spoke of, maybe it was a type of position where the gap could affect her performance, but still I think those two women at Dunks need a kick in the damn teeth. Quit bitching and start respecting.

On a happy note, they made my coffee right and I am in bliss. 

A Year, and Then Some

Hello_logo_smHello there. It’s been a while. A very long while, in fact. A year? Maybe more? Either way, I have decided to come back. 2014 was a rough, hard year. More downs than ups really. I took a long break from the social world, the demands of day to day life too consuming to be involved in anything more. 2015, I hope, will be a year to remember. A year that will work with me, instead of against me. Then again, 9 days into the new year found me at home with a concussion, possible compressed nerve, and some nice hearing loss thanks to a car accident. But, I walked away from that accident pretty damn lucky if I do say so myself.

Either way, I am determined to make 2015 a new, wonderful year. A part of that resolution involves reengaging in the social site. There are many things in the world that are affecting out day to day lives as parents, and I want to create a place for parents of every style to have a place to share their thoughts. Welcome to the new and improved Kay Froebel.

I’m Sick. Again.

I hate the type of colds where no amount of medicine unclogs your nose. The type where you blow your nose and nothing comes out. Even those stupid “nasal swelling” medicines don’t do jack. Breath right strips? What a joke. It just expands my nose, allowing for more of it to stuff up.

Not to mention when I get a cold, it almost always travels to one of my eyes. Yes, that’s right. I get one bloodshot, watery eye that makes me look like I am giving the stink eye to everyone. And I sound like a dude. A sick dude. A seriously sick dude. Not appealing at all. In fact I will answer my cell phone, and people ask to speak to me, thinking that its my husband suffering from a cold who answered the phone.

Winter is not a sexy look on me.

Stay healthy everyone. If you sick, stay the hell away from me I have my own problems to deal with!

Damn You, Cookies!

There are certain times of the year that I suddenly feel a strong sense of ineptness as a mother. The Holidays are one of them. Why? Because I can’t bake. I want you to read those words again. I really want you to understand how bad at baking I am. Even my soon-to-be four year old is suspicious of trying any sweet I produce, especially if it came from the oven. Instant things like pudding, yeah I am okay at those. I still manage to screw them up every now and then though… I won’t lie.

Burnt CookiesMy inability to bake edible things stems from my aversion to following directions. I will admit that when it comes to cooking, I am as against following directions as a man is at asking for directions. What does this have to do with motherhood? Duh. Everything. Okay that’s not true. But seriously. Watch ANY holiday movie, and the women are always baking up a storm with cookies, brownies, cakes, and other sugary delights that make my mouth water. I am lucky I can make pre-made, pre-cut Toll House cookies. Even those I tend to burn to an inedible degree. Hence why I don’t cook them. (Cookie dough FTW)

Now before all you non-baking moms flay me, I am not saying that mothers who don’t bake are bad mothers, it just makes ME feel like an inept mommy. Like I just assumed that when you had children, you were downloaded with all the mommy traits, like baking. I should have known my download was busted when the whole patience thing wasn’t uploaded to my skill set, but still. I just want to bake some damn cookies with my kids! Instead, can I just go through the whole process, and then just skip the cooking part? Yes, I am talking about eating the cookie dough, or brownie dough, or cake dough. (If you lecture me on the whole eating raw egg bit, I will end you.) Is that cheating? Probably.

Part of the reason I am such a novice baker is that it requires exact amounts of things. I don’t cook that way. When I cook, I usually go based on scent. I never measure anything. I don’t even think I have a full measuring cup set, and I know for a fact I don’t have those measuring spoon thingies. I am a pretty good cook if I do say so myself. But baking… it just won’t bend to my will!

Who needs cookies for the holidays? I mean, its not like cookies matter right? Oh wait…. yeah they kind of do. Man, I fail.

Think the kids will be okay feeding Santa meatballs?

Nannie 2

That Special Person

Sometimes there are people in our lives that change everything. They are a constant force of strength, of love, of inspiration. Simply having them in your life has made it that much richer, that much more invigorating. I am lucky enough to have many people like that, but out of them all there is one that is special to everyone,  my Nannie. She is sweet, fiery, sharp, and boy if you cross her you better run. (Seriously, run really really fast!)

My Nannie is by far the greatest woman I know. She is someone I admire, someone I want to keep with me always. I know each and every person in my family feels the same. I mean look at that face, how could you not love that woman?

Nannie

The Coolest Woman Ever Invented

My mother calls her mom, I call her Nannie, and my daughters call her Nana, she is a woman with many names. Being the Matriarch of a four generation family can’t be easy, especially since we keep popping out more girls. Luckily, she is a force to be reckoned with so she keeps us in line pretty well. Without her threatening to put me through a wall every now and then, I am sure I would not be where I am today.

So this holiday season, try to remember that the only reason you are as awesome as you are is because you had great people shaping you. And if you are not awesome, well, come meet my Nannie. She will whip you into shape in no time!

Ice Storm

Is It Seriously Winter Already?

I know. Before you say it, I know I had wished for Fall to come just a few months ago. The thing is, I wished for FALL. Not Winter. I dislike Winter for the most part. Yes I love the holiday season, and the happy, joyful feel, but lets face it, that ends after New Years. The worst part of winter is easily commuting in the Winter. So far we have had a few little scattered flurries, but it was enough to make each highway I have to drive on a freaking parking lot. I can only imagine my commute time when the snow actually sticks to the ground. I am not looking forward to it. I have to be at work by 9, therefore I will need to leave my house at… 6 am. Oh and getting home for dinner? Sure. If I left at 3. But no. I leave at 6. Are you seeing the awesomeness yet?

Snow Traffic

Oh sweet traffic. How I despise you.

It’s not just snow I have to worry about. There are two things worse than snow. Black ice- it’s a serious bitch- and other drivers. That’s right. If someone even thinks they see snow, they immediately turn into moron. OMG It’s a snowflake! MUST STOMP ON BRAKE AND CAUSE MULTI-CAR ACCIDENT! This may not be the exact thought process, but it might as well be. Come on people. We are New Englanders. Snow is a part of life. Get over it.

It’s amusing because in January, everyone is all ahhh! Snow! then all of a sudden March hits, and we have had snow storm after snow storm and suddenly we are all we are only getting 14 inches? What a joke. That’s not a snow storm! I could drive my Prius to work in that! (If you own a Prius, stop reading my blog. Hate those cars…) However, they still suck because they don’t know how to drive in snow.

Anyone else find this bi-polarness annoying? It makes traffic that much more irritating. How? Because this is how it goes…

Driver sees snow. Driver immediately turns into idiot and doubts his ability to drive in snow. Driver causes accident. Everyone else thinks Oh no! It must be bad out, he got into an accident! Everyone else turns into an idiot and forgets how to drive in snow. They slow down. Traffic backs up. I turn into a raging monster. I run late for work. I run late getting home. The world suddenly sucks.

OR

Driver sees snow. Thinks this isn’t snow! Driver immediately turns into idiot and overestimates his awesomeness. Begins speeding. Driver causes accident. Everyone else thinks He must be new here, look at him! Can’t even drive in a little snow! They immediately speed up and overestimate their awesomeness. They get in accidents. Traffic backs up. I turn into a raging monster. I run late for work. I run late getting home. The world still sucks.

It’s a lose lose situation. A bit dramatic? NOT AT ALL. (Okay maybe a little…)

Ice Storm

Seriously… Do you just say eff it and hibernate until spring when this happens?

Alright I am done with my rant, sort of. And no, it is not snowing. My car door was frozen shut this morning. I literally stood there yanking at my door trying to open it. When I finally did, the rubber part surrounding my door came off and I had to put it back. Then my windows were frozen shut and I couldn’t roll down my window to order my coffee. I actually had to get out of my car and go into Starbucks. I parked and opened my door and stepped right into a nice freezing puddle. All of this only served to infuriate me as it means winter really is coming. (cue GOT reference go go!)

I think I may hibernate this winter. And by hibernate I mean build a fort in my living room and refuse to come out until winter is over.

Doherty Girls

Pride: A Thought on Little Doherty Girls

Doherty Girls

Five Little Doherty Girls

The five little Doherty girls are as charming as can be

you don’t have to be their mommy to see.

Though from one family they came,

none are really quite the same.

Some are adorably tall

and others so perfectly small.

One is trickier than a fox,

and another is stronger than an ox.

One is quite sweet and another fairly witty.

The youngest, well she is just so itty bitty.

Though they are still very young

Its best not to cross them so bite your tongue

lest your mean words cause them harm.

For these little girls have just as much bite as they do charm.

Oh, Good Morning Monday

It is Monday, our favorite day of the week. I am starting to think that Monday isn’t just a day, but an actual entity. And it hates me. With a burning passion. My day started like this;

Woke up to baby crying. Hubby decides that he can ignore the baby, even though its his turn to get up. He doesn’t. So I do. It is 4 AM. I get baby to fall back asleep, for an hour. She is up again. This time I elbow the hubby and he reluctantly gets up, re-wraps her and plops her beloved pacifier back in. She is content, but awake. He goes back to bed. He starts snoring. She is munching happily on her little orange pacie. Mommy lays awake until she begrudgingly gets up to start her day.

Cue traffic. Lots of it. 495 is backed up. So I go Route 2 to 95. Thats a mess. An hour and a half later I arrive at work and stop to grab a coffee. Dunkin Donuts made my coffee wrong. Not just a little wrong, but wicked wrong. Like asking for a French Vanilla with skim milk and no sugar, and getting a pumpkin coffee with EXTRA FREAKING CREAM and like 12 sugars. I gagged. I went back in and had them make me a new one, something I never do. Next go? Regular coffee. Begrudgingly, I accept it. I head in to work. Someone bumps into me while walking into my office, and my hot coffee spills down my shirt. Fantastic. A couple of paper towels later, I look somewhat normal. I head into my office and throw on the light. And guess what? There is a massive freaking spider chilling on the window. And because its on the outside, I can’t get it to move. Its just sitting there, looking at me. I know its looking at me. Now its eating a bug. Great.

Its not even 11, and all I want to do is pretend this day never existed. Seriously. Mondays are like Karma days. I cut someone off on Friday, now Monday is all I’m Gonna Get You My Pretty! Screw this. I want my bed.

Sincerely,

A wicked annoyed, coffee-drenched woman who can’t help but stare at the massive spider on her window.