Pepper Remains Unimpressed.

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“She’s so wrapped up in this book thing that’s going on or whatever the hell, that she didn’t even notice that she forced me to break two cardinal fashion rules. I’m wearing HIGH WATER PANTS and they are WHITE. It’s October 15, bitch.

Just get me the hell home and help me find my lovey.”

That Girl’s Got An Attitude.

I occasionally post hilarious pictures on my Facebook page (are you on Facebook? Don’t forget to find Modern Mommy Madness and “like” the page so you don’t miss out!) and I don’t want to be boring and post them here, too, but today I realized if I don’t compile them somewhere, they’ll get lost in the black hole of social media.

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So … I’ve added a new page here devoted just to Pepper. Because if we can’t give the girl Perrier instead of plain tap water, she at least deserves her own sub-blog.

Catching Up.

A few nights ago I witnessed Asher accidentally pee into his own eyes. He screamed “there’s soap in my eyes!” And I said no, that’s pee, and as I said it I realized this was yet another situation I never thought of when I first pondered having children.

┬áRobbie: “What’s your favorite letter, Asher?”

Asher: “Cake.”

Pepper still isn’t walking. She will be 16 months old next week. She’s making up for that by talking, though, so we aren’t terribly concerned about her development. She says: No, Mama, Daddy, Maverick, Pepper, Lemme out, I wanna get out, Hi, Hello, Bye-bye, Turtle, Kitty Cat, Monkey, Brother, Baby, Milk, Eat, Bath, Boat, Pig, and a whole bunch of other things. But her legs go limp when I hold her hands and try to encourage her to walk.

She has started getting up on her knees and “walking” on them, which is not as fast as crawling but it puts her up higher. The sweet lady at the gym nursery said she’s never seen anything like it. Well … that makes two of us. At this rate it will be Christmas before she’s walking, and yes, I am in a hurry for her to start. She is HEAVY and I’m tired of carrying her.

Thanks to a book from my parents, Maverick is now an expert on the Dead Sea. If anyone has any questions relating to that body of water, please direct them to Maverick.

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Pee.

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“Asher’s potty training. He sucks at it. We had to go to Target to buy him more underwear today because he keeps pooping in his pants, and Mommy refuses to wash them out. She just throws ’em away. I don’t blame her.

Anyway, she made this huge deal over the fact that he peed in the Target bathroom — OMG, it was so disgusting, he touched all over the toilet and he took off his shoes, because he’s gross — and Mommy was trying to hold me and help him put his shoes back on but he kept touching us with his potty hands. It was awful, but she said she was proud of him.

Then we got home and he proceeded to pee all over the laundry room. That made her pretty upset, so I crawled all in it for my own entertainment.

It was warm.”

The Princess & The Farm.

“They brought me to a FARM. Who are these people?! Ugh … can someone call me a town car? My legs are itching like crazy.

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Wait, what? There’s no town car? I’m in a chigger-infested wasteland! GOATS LIVE HERE. The man I’m sitting on is does not have royal blood, clearly I’ve been born into the wrong family, and animals are roaming freely around me.

Unacceptable, all of it. Our life, and these cheap shoes, depress me.”

 

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Teething On Brick.

I met a friend at the park this morning and we were talking about being uptight, anxious, OCD … whatever you want to call a person who feels the need to jump out of bed in the morning and immediately make coffee and unload the dishwasher. It has to happen right away, immediately, because it would bring universal dread and destruction if dirty dishes pile up before the clean ones are unloaded. DO NOT QUESTION ME.

All I could think as we talked was, “Thank God I’m not the only one.”

Motherhood must be so much easier for people who don’t get all stressed out when there is unfolded laundry in a basket somewhere in their house. It must be nice to not feel like the world is ending if toothpaste gets on the mirror right after you cleaned it, or the baby crawls through your bathroom and emerges with beard hair all over her hands and knees.

So I’ve been trying to relax, and just go along with how things are right this moment — today — and embrace that shit.

But … have you ever seen a baby teethe on brick? It’s unsettling.

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Teething LIKE A BOSS.

I let it happen because I was making a conscious effort to be relaxed. Now that I think about it, this wasn’t the best time to decide to be cool hippie mom. I should have been normal, uptight mom when I saw her start to do it, but I was so fascinated, I just stood there and stared. Clearly, I need more practice.

Can we all agree that the boys have a good reason to fear their little sister? SHE’S TEETHING ON BRICK. That is seriously hardcore.