the wiener mom has buyer's remorse

Despite the fact that it's made in Germany, and it can absorb a full can of soda (among other things), and it's the only cleaning cloth you need, and it's ONLY available on TV (and also at Target, Walgreens, and Walmart-among other places), the SHAMWOW does not clean up vomit.

Maybe I should have went with the Snuglee.

the wiener mom walks the dog (that is not a euphemism)

Today I walked the dog, in the completely traditional sense of the word. The sitter was there; little wiener was napping (allegedly) and the sun was shining. I stepped out into the world with my dog. We walked around the neighborhood. In my neighborhood there is a private high school and I guess high school kids park their cars on the nearby streets when school is in session. Wait, let me correct myself: they park their BMWs, Lexus, and Jeeps on the nearby streets. What the hell?
Who are these kids and even more important-who are their parents? No high school kid needs a BMW. I kind of labor under the belief that no adult really needs one either, but I digress.
When I was in high school, I didn't have a car. In fact if I had not had a best friend with a "virginmobile" I would have been climbing on the yellow school bus to get to school when I was 17. A car just wasn't a question. Maybe I was in the minority.
The worst part about this whole thing was that I was walking by when school was letting out, so I got to experience the kids themselves as they made their way to their vehicles. They were rude! Sad to say, it was the wieners who were particularly vulgar and obnoxious. I know I sound like a prude, but no girl deserves to have "blow -itch" written on her windshield in the snow. If I ever find out my wieners partook in any such activity...
They just better not.

the wiener mom chuckles inwardly at first time mothers

I was at the doctor's office the other day for little wiener's big one year check up (4 shots! Oh the injustice!) when I made a pleasant observation.
There was a mother there with her baby. A first time mother with her first time baby. How did I know?
First of all, she was waaaaay too excited. Waaaaay.
Second, she had her mother with her. It was her, her mother and a little six month old baby. She actually had back up for one baby. THE ADULTS OUTNUMBERED THE SPAWN. The probability of this happening in wiener world is virtually nonexistent. Normally, it's me (alone) and at least one wiener, but mostly 2. I do not travel with back up. Though the ridiculousness of this picture caused in me great feelings of both humor and mild superiority, I do vaguely recall those days.
Back in the day of one baby wiener you were just never sure if you could handle what came your way. What if he cried and I couldn't make him stop- I might need back up.
What if he needed a diaper change and I needed someeone to hand me the wipes- again, back up. What if I couldn't carry the diaper bag and the car seat with a ten pound baby in it- I need back up here!
THose were the days.
Now I just suck it up and deal. I didn't know how good I had it.

P.S. Oh, yeah and New Mom and New Mom's Mother were simultaneously reading six month old baby a book about the zoo. Brief transcript:
New Mom: Looooook at the cockatoooooo. (pointing)
Baby looks at ceiling.
New Mom's Mother: Someday you'll go to the zoo and see a cockatoo. Yes you will. Yes you will.
Baby looks at ceiling.

P.S.S I am taking applications for a position in back up. Pay is low.

the wiener mom is going to provide too much information

Since big wiener has started school (preschool-age 3) I have always lived with this irrational, paranoid feeling that I'm going to get a phone call from the school nurse saying one of the following:
a. your wiener has vomited all over the entire school.
b. your wiener has a raging fever and is hallucinating.
c. your wiener has raging diarrhea and has soiled himself and all those in the vicinity.
d. your wiener has actually coughed up a lung.
e. any combination of a through d.

Never in all that time did I imagine that the call I would finally receive from a school nurse (after 3 and 1/2 years of waiting for it) would be for a sore wiener.
A wiener with a sore wiener. What are the chances?

Well, with three wieners, probably higher than you might imagine or I might hope.

the wiener mom celebrates the fact that her little wiener survived the first year

He did it! I'm not even going to go into the fact that I did it. He's still here; and healthy and mostly really happy. I'm not a gloomy gus type negative thinkerish person, but there were moments that his mere survival was questionable.
There are the legions of Lego's that slip by my wiener mom lego-dar.
There are the stray pennies and the starburst that caused him to choke and puke.
There was of course, the fall down the entire flight of stairs.

I have learned that despite my very best efforts (and by that I mean like 110% range) I can not be everywhere at all times.

I have learned that it doesn't matter how many times you pick up Lego's, more will appear.

I have also learned that it doesn't matter how many times you tell a wiener to PUT AWAY ALL THE GODDAMN SMALL THINGS LAYING AROUND; they will miss something, somewhere, that only little wiener will find.

I have learned that as fast as I pick up, they dump shit out again.

I have learned that baby gates on stairs should be law, because you never know just how fast they can move (like when you turn your back for just a second to break up a fight between two wieners).

I have also learned that the nurses at the peds office are really nice when hysterical, sobbing mothers call because their baby just fell down the stairs.

I have learned that if it is small enough to fit into a little wiener's mouth and is inedible it will go in. If it is small enough to fit into a littler wiener's mouth and IS edible, it may or may not go in.

I have learned that even after doing this twice before, it never gets old. That smiling baby looking up at you is never overdone. A snuggle into the shoulder is always new and an open mouth kiss is always welcome.

I have learned that the third one can be hard on a marriage; it drives you into business partner mode, but when you come out on the other side, you'll be better off for it.

I have learned that I can't even remember the misery of being pregnant with little wiener.

I have learned to live in the present, because this is the last little wiener I get and I want to soak up every precious moment.

I have learned that despite all the stress, the yelling, the butt wiping, the fighting, and quite frankly; the wieners, wiener world is a pretty great place to be.
Visitors welcome (if you wash dishes and wipe butts).

the wiener mom used to be nice

You heard it here first; the wiener mom is not as nice as she used to be. She doesn't have time to be as nice as she used to be. "What?" you say, "How does someone not have time to be nice?" Let me explain...

In the beginning the wiener mom was nice to everyone, really, really nice (like too nice). She was even too nice to people who weren't even nice to her to begin with. She also worried a lot; all the time about some pretty irrational things (like that she might get abducted by aliens-really). She had sooooo much time and with her time, she worried and was nice. She worried about what people thought and how they felt. She spent untold amounts of time trying to analyze EVERYTHING.

Then big wiener was born. She had slightly less time to worry about being nice and all those other irrational things (the aliens again-really!). She was still way too nice to just about everyone. She took a lot of crap from a lot of people.

Then along came middle wiener. Now, a little less time for the worrying and the niceness. The irrational things that once occupied her brain started to disappear (no more aliens!). Her brain was filling up with wieners and laundry and more wieners and still more laundry and all those other exctiing things.

Then, last but by no means least, came little wiener. Now, no time for worrying. Is daddy wiener going to get hit by a semi and squished riding his bike home from work? Can't think about it! Is Phyllis mad because I didn't forward her chain email-don't care! Hear that Phyllis? The wiener mom's brain is so overflowing that she doesn't worry much anymore. She also isn't unfailingly generous, compassionate, helpful and nice to every Tom, Dick and Harriet. Like I said, she's got her own wieners to worry about. The wiener mom has a much smaller circle of friends and their friends who can stand on thier own. Friends who don't need constant attention or fawning. The wiener mom is happy because now she doesn't have to worry about who thinks what and how do they feel about every damn thing she's ever done or said; even if she wanted to she doesn't have time.

Just for your information: other things the wiener mom doesn't have time for anymore:
American Idol, daily showers, clean jeans, sweeping, feeling bad about herself, reading crap, straightening her hair, organizing the basement, eating fiber, and cleaning out the drain in the bathroom sink (whose hair is that?)

the wiener mom asks for a moment of (relative) silence

Quiet. I miss it. I have wieners who speak- a lot. all day. both of them at the same time. all the time. you get the point...

What are they saying? The same things over and over again, duh!?! I like to refer to it as verbal diarrhea- stuff just pours out of their mouths. Meaningless stuff-mostly. They just talk ALL DAY LONG.

It all started with big wiener. He's a talker. I guess that I might have something to do with it. I'm a talker and I encouraged talking from a very early age (why? why I ask!) By the time he was two big wiener was trying to include me in everything he did by giving me a running commentary, which I was in turn expected to comment on.
big wiener: the car is red. I like the car. the car is really good. and on and on and on...
Now, no where in this description of the car was I questioned or even referred to, so I listen and don't say anything.
big wiener: MOM! the car is red! etc, etc...

So it began. It has gotten to the point periodically where I have to tell him that I need to turn off my ears, because he can't turn off his MOUTH! Even when my ears are turned off, he doesn't stop talking. He talks to himself, or his brothers, or continues to talk to me. My brain is on overload.

So now we have middle wiener, also a talker, of course. Besides being a talker though, he's a screamer. When he doesn't get an immediate response to a query; HE SCREAMS IT. Effective to say the least.

Now little wiener is starting to make noises, you know the pre-talking ones. What I really want to say to him is, "shhhhh." but I don't because language is a gift and so important and blah, blah, blah.

There are moments in days when I just really want to scream myself- SHUT UP. but of course I don't. I nod and smile and "hmmm" in all the right places because that's what the wiener mom is supposed to do.

the wiener mom has a few words

there are just so many of them.

the wiener mom and her very wonderful big wiener

In my former life, I was a kindergarten teacher (a good one I was led to believe). I was on the teacher/public school side of things; now-I'm on the parent side of things. We got big wiener's report card for the first semester of first grade and I'm filled with conflicting emotions. It's so odd to see someone that you know and love, and created for God's sake, reduced to numbers and one sentence comments on a piece of paper. You say that my son's a two and not a three? How dare you! He's a three, I tell you! I'm proud of him and his character. I go to volunteer in his class and see him in action; listening, following directions, being so polite. People at school (kids and adults) say what a nice kid he is and he is. It swells me with pride seeing him in his "away from home habitat". but...

Yes, there's a but. He can't read. He's levels behind where he should be and it kills me. I never would have thought that I, the person who taught kids to read, would have a child who couldn't read. It destroys me. Not my ego or pride, but my feeling of peace for him. Does that make sense? Me, the worrier, imagines him not reading and continuing to not read and falling behind in school and in life eventually. I want his life to be perfect with no difficult anything, ever. Daddy wiener says that is ridiculous; no body's life is that easy. Everybody has some struggles. Not my babies, I want to say; knowing completely and fully how crazy that hope is. I want it all the same. What mother doesn't?

So, we work at home, much to big wiener's grave annoyance. He'd much rather do art, or legos, or pretend, but for 20 minutes a night we try to find some way to make reading and writing fun. He's starting to care; to want it, which is the first step. Every once in a while it strikes him that it might be cool to read what he wants to, when he wants to. He does write the most wonderful "stories" at school that his fabulous teacher shares with me. He's going to get extra help with reading in school. It will come. I just have to remind myself that it will come. He is not me. I was an early reader. Daddy wiener told me that he didn't really care about school or try until he was in 4Th grade (thanks a lot daddy). So I wait and work and love and hope (emphasis on love and hope). That's all I can do, really

the wiener mom has one of those days

What does it mean when the highlight of your day is playing "bootie" with your three year old? You know that game where you make bugs with all different bug parts? Some people apparently call it "cootie", like the people who manufacture it. Middle wiener however, refuses to call it anything other than "bootie" so that's what it is. "Momma, what's your bootie doing now?" "Momma, my bootie is wearing roller skates." "Momma, my bootie is pink and yours is blue."
Ah... good times.

the wiener mom really really hates boogers. (again)

Snot, snot, snot. I am so damn tired of snot. If it's not one wiener than it's another. Wiping noses has become a new hobby of mine. I am currently wiping noses more than I am wiping asses, so that's really saying something. Little wiener has a cold and so that means that he has trouble drinking which makes him crabby, which makes me crabby. I wish I had trouble drinking, ha ha. Little wiener mom attempt at humor there. Stop and chuckle if you must.

Ready? The worst part of it is that little wiener can't blow his nose, so our only option is to pin him down and suck the boogers out with the booger vacuum. Oh, he hates that. It is akin to branding a cow that knows what's coming. As soon as we pull it out and one of us grabs his head, the thrashing commences!

Add to this the fact that middle wiener has re-come down with a sinus infection. Truth be told, I think it's the same sinus infection he's had since November and the antibiotics aren't cutting it, but Dr. wants to try them again. Guess what? They taste awful. We had it flavored, but I tried it and it is indeed awful, or "minty" as middle wiener calls it. That's his way of saying spicy. It doesn't actually taste like pepperoni or jalapeno, but cherry. So now besides the green bubbles of snot coming out of his nose and chasing him down with tissues so he can "blow like a good boy" we have to force feed him augmentin.

I have to say as annoying as wiping noses is, it still doesn't annoy me as much as persistent cough or the unending throat clearing of 2006 (before big wiener got his tonsils out). When the cough starts and continues every minute of every hour for days on end, I really want to run away. Just leave, that or wear ear plugs all the time. Neither of those is an option, so I'll just have to go to my happy place... Target. Literally. I can ignore it in a retail like environment. While I'm there I'll check out the earplugs.