Mommy? Why didn’t Daddy get the Worry Gene?

tidal wave worry gene

The worry gene. Let me explain.

Men are from Mars and women are from Venus takes on a whole new meaning when these planets become parents. In my head, it translates to dads are from Lala-land and women are from Paranoiaville. Something just happens to us when we become moms and it seems to get worse with age (in my case anyway). It’s some uncontrollable feeling that doom is lurking around every corner, waiting to harm our babies.

Let’s break this down mathematically (because that’s totally not my strong suit so of course we should do it this way) to understand the effects this simple chromosomal difference has on us as parents.

XY + parenthood = let them be kids

XX + parenthood = if they step outside this house, or move, doom is sure to follow

Exaggeration? Not really in this house. This difference is apparent in all families from what I’ve seen, but here? It’s a raging issue.

Case in point: We live in a nice gated community. Our neighbors are nice. We have a lovely playground that we can see clearly (and closely I might add, we could get there in less than a minute if needed) from our balcony. B is completely comfortable walking the babies down to said playground, leaving them there, and returning to sit on our balcony to watch them play. I mean, what could happen right?


Well, a creepy white van with no windows could drive up and the sociopathic driver could snatch them and take them away forever. Or one of them could fall and impale themselves on the playground equipment. Or, since we live on a beach, obviously a freak tidal wave carrying a school of shark could consume them, and there’s no way they’d get out of that mess. Or a pelican (have you seen the size of those things?) could swoop in and decide they looked like the perfect snack. OR a fire-breathing dragon could descend from the sky and attack my babies with me just helplessly watching from the balcony.

THAT’S what could happen!

Yes, I actually go there. I think many of us in the Double X Sisterhood do. We don’t mean to. We don’t want to. Sure, let them be kids.

Well, yes, BUT NO!

These things are real, in my head, and it’s my job to protect them and carry them safely and happily into adulthood. So protect them I will from the creepy sociopaths in the windowless vans, impaling playground equipment, freak tidal waves carrying schools of shark, those pelicans (seriously, those things are HUGE), and the fire-breathing dragons.

I’m a mom. That’s what I do, and my worry gene gives me super powers to worry perform my job well.

So dads out there (and B in particular), we know you love your babies. We know you worry. There’s never any doubt that you only want what’s best for the kids and you want them to enjoy life. But guess what? This is how we’re made. That Double X string kicked into high gear the very SECOND we laid eyes on our first baby and it’s not going anywhere.

And kids, if you’re listening (especially mine because I know you think I’m too overprotective sometimes), moms don’t mean to restrict you. We were made to worry to keep you safe from whatever life throws at you. That’s what we do. Because, you know…tidal waves, schools of shark, pelicans, fire-breathing dragons, and stuff.

This is just one of those sorry, not sorry moments. I’m a mom. I’m doing my job. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go zip up those babies’ bubbles. I think I hear pelicans coming!

Life Can’t be all about Bubbles and Smiles

parenting, moms, activities for kids
Or can it? I mean, you can’t center your whole life around bubbles and smiles (although that would be totally cool) but you can focus more on the bubbles, and the smiles. We’re all busy. We get wrapped up in the day to day. We stress. But what happens on those way-too-rare moments when we choose to shut down and just enjoy time with our families? Well, I’ll tell you what happens here. It’s all about the bubbles and smiles!

life, activities for kids, family

Looking at these photos, I’ll admit that the bubbles seem insignificant. But you see, they are very significant here. Why? Because these bubbles, this simple trip to the park? These things make my babies smile. And that right there, is priceless.

life, parenting, moms, activities for kids
This hour I spent with my babies, watching them blow and then pop these bubbles, may also seem insignificant to you. But to me? These are the things that happiness is made of. So can life be all bubbles and smiles? Of course not. There’s work to do on the home and job front of course. We are parents, we are required to work 24/7. But stopping to enjoy the bubbles, the smiles, and the giggles along the way…well, that’s part of our job too.

Life can’t be all about bubbles and smiles (oh and giggles…let’s don’t forget the giggles), but we should all make sure to remember to enjoy both on a weekly basis. Quite honestly, this is more of a reminder to myself than it is to you, but if it struck a cord, you need to blow bubbles more often too!

This Little Boy of Mine? He Owns Me Like a B*tch!

this little boy of mine

This little boy of mine? What can I say? Those eyes. That pout. That adorable face? Yes, I’m his b*tch and he doesn’t even have to try.

I was talking to a very dear friend tonight about her becoming a boy mom. *SQUEE* I’m so excited for her and her completely perfect family! But as the conversation unfolded, I realized that I’m my son’s b*tch. It’s not intentional on his part really.

He doesn’t encourage it, well I think he doesn’t.

Either way, it is what it is. I’m the mom of 6 kids. I should be immune. I love my girls (and my step kids) and they are all SO beautiful. So, so beautiful. But this guy? Something about him. The MINUTE he was born, I heard the angels sing. I knew he was special. He was different. But little did I know that this tiny creature would affect me in such a way that I would no longer know how to live without him.

He asks for something? He gets it. He offers “huggie time”? I’m all his. He wants to be a picky eater (like his Mommy)? It’s OK. He’ll grow out of it. He bats those baby blues? Oh my stars…I lose it.

If he wants something, even to get his sister out of trouble for her crimes (seriously, he’ll go to jail for her one day…bless his big huge heart)? All he has to do is look at me, with THAT look, and he makes it happen. I’m pitiful.

And he’ll grow out of his days of huggie time, and his deep need for me to take care of his every whim. I won’t always be his be-all and end-all. It’s already happening. I see him shifting to his new favorite…DADDY. They do have more in common…but *SIGH*…this little boy of mine? I need him more than he needs me. I’m just thankful that I have been graced with him in my life.

He holds my heart…and I’m his b*tch. So what! I’ll gladly be his b*tch as long as he’ll let me. Someday, he’ll go to school (like this year…make the pain stop), and someday he’ll find a woman that he loves and she’ll take my blue ribbon. But for now, intentional on his part or not, I’ll gladly be his b*tch and keep spoiling him like I do. He’s a good boy y’all. He’s respectful. He’s kind. He’s gorgeous. And he’s funny. He’s the type of kid that anyone would feel blessed to have. I’m just happy he’s mine.