KC Live: The Show Goes On

So you know when you have that feeling like there’s something looming in the back of your brain you keep meaning to follow up on but you don’t? And it turns out to be that you’re supposed to be on live television in less than 24 hours? That was my Tuesday afternoon.

For one thing, I had no segment prepared. For another thing, not to get into details, but  I’d spent the past 48 hours depression-eating chinese food and chocolate ice cream and I wasn’t in the ol’ razzle-dazzle frame of mind. To say I was disheveled and bloated is a given, but it was so bad that after I put on my Spanx in the morning, my 4 year old poked my stomach and said “Why do you have a baby in your tummy?” And I sweetly told her it was just an IUD in a bunch of Hyvee Chinese and Haagen-Dazs, then I stuffed her Elsa lunchbox full of loose kale and black jelly beans and sent her off to Preschool.

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Take No Preschoolers

Savvy 1 month

This morning my four-year-old Savannah (pictured above when she was blisfully unable to make biting, hurtful remarks) asked me if she could have a “healthy breffast, with no sugar.” I happily agreed to make her some eggs. About two minutes into me cooking, she took one look at the eggs and said, “NOT LIKE THAT! OH MY GOSH I WANTED THE KIND THAT ARE ROUND AND YOU CRACK THEM!”

“I don’t have any hard-boiled eggs cooked though.”

“NO, YOU DON’T EVEN UNDERSTAND ME! YOU DON’T EVEN HAVE TO COOK THEM YOU GET THEM OUT OF THE ‘FRIGERATOR!”

“I do understand you, but I’m telling you that I have to cook those kind of eggs FIRST before you can get them out of the refrigerator.”

She then let out some sort of primal scream of frustration and flung herself onto the staircase crying, “NO ONE UNDERSTANDS ME IN THIS HOUSE! YOU DON’T EVEN LOVE ME!”

From his chair where he was enjoying his hot coffee and reading the news, my husband muttered, “Jesus, what is she, on her period?”

In this moment, I realized two things. 1. My husband is 100 percent going to infuriate my daughters when they are teenagers and I’m going to sit smugly in the corner with my hot coffee and watch him try to figure out what he said/did wrong. 2. My four year old is just a small version of me when I’m PMSing, hangry, drunk, or some combination therein.

We recently watched the Judd Apatow stand up special on Netflix and in talking about his wife and two daughters he hilariously said something to the effect of, “I don’t just live with three women. I live with three ages of the same woman.” So if that’s true, my husband is in for hell on heels.

Since Savannah’s been having these outbursts, I’ve been looking up a lot of parenting resources on discipline and how to curb anxiety in your children before it gets out of control. But probably the most useful article I came across is not a parenting article at all, but it should be. It’s called, Hostage Negotiation Techniques That Will Get You What You Want. It includes this chart and points out that the reason most people aren’t great negotiators is that they skip the first three steps and move straight to Influence, when the step that actually weakens someone’s defense the most, is actively listening while they talk.

hostage-negotiation-techniques

Via

So the moral of the story is Savannah ate Lucky Charms and I’m turning to the FBI for parenting tips.

Happy Friday, Y’all.

KC Live: Breastfeeding Awareness and How To Carry A Mannequin Across A Busy Trafficway

If you read my last post, you know breastfeeding is a topic that brings up a lot of uncomfortable memories for me. If you’re a new mom and struggling with breastfeeding, I truly hope something here helps you through this time; just know it gets better. You’re not going to have to do this forever. Continue reading

Sh*t My Kids Say: Fallon/Hilton 2020

Sometimes in the pool we play trivia and the girls (Avery 6 and Savvy 4) take turns “impressing” me with their knowledge while we float around…

Me: Who’s the President?

Savvy: JIMMY FALLON!

Avery: Donald Trump.

Me: And who was president before him?

Avery: Obama.

Savvy: OBAMA!

Me: And who was the other candidate besides Donald Trump? Remember? The woman candidate?

Avery: I don’t know…

Oh wait, yes I do! Celery! Celery Hilton!

Me: What state do we live in?

Savvy: AMERICA!

Avery: Kansas. Duh, Savvy America is where the President lives in the White House.

Me: I think you mean Washington DC.

Avery: Yeah. It’s super far away in Canada.

Me: Um, okay switching categories…What does Bonjour mean?

Savvy: YELLOW!

Avery: It means Hello.

Savvy: THAT’S WHAT I SAID!

Me: How do you say Hello in Spanish?

Avery (high-pitched): Yoo-hoo!

On the way out, Avery took a drink from the fountain and then helpfully notified the children and mother nearby that “This water fountain tastes like martini water.”

So I guess the take-away is that what Savvy lacks in knowledge, she makes up for in supreme confidence, enthusiasm, and volume. And I don’t know what to do about Avery, but I do know that my new alter-ego is a socialite named Celery Hilton who drinks martini water at the pool and calls out “Yoo-hoo!” to greet people Spanish.

Here are some of my favorite pictures from Summer Seventeen so far:

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Let’s Be Alone Together.

Overall, it’s been a good week. But I detected the fumes of Mommy burnout yesterday.  I’m tired.  I’m tired of riding the waves of feeling suffocated and having the craziest biggest love wash over me when I see my girls’ little teeth as they giggle at something I say. Avery has already lost so many of her baby teeth and each one feels like a kick in the gut. Like all those nights we spent together walking around the living room in the glow of the TV because she was teething and only wanted to be rocked have come full circle. I felt so desperate and alone just doing whatever I could to coax her to sleep.

The first week we brought her home from the hospital I laid awake in terror picturing this giant digital clock counting down the 18 years until she leaves us. I still find myself exasperated with each little sign of my kids growing up. All of a sudden their legs are so long. Their oh-so-kissable cheek meat is disappearing. I’m so grateful that I get to watch them grow, but I have this gnawing feeling that it’s all going too fast. Like I’m one of those Russian nesting dolls and the smallest one is constantly in the middle of a crazy desperate meltdown, but the dolls in between us are chill and keep the little panic-stricken one mostly medicated, er,  insulated so my outer self can function.

Sometimes little voices calling “Mom!” sound like nails on a chalkboard. Sometimes I get tired of carrying around all of the dandelions they pick for me. And I feel so guilty. I know that time is flying by and I will long to hear their tiny voices, have them fall asleep on top of me, and I’ll look at dandelions and wish someone cared enough about me to pick them for me. A friend recently sent me an article that said “we’re not meant to parent for this many hours a day,” and some days it feels so true. It’s so much pressure being the person they love and hate the most. The one they treat the best and the worst.

Years ago I attended a Junior League luncheon where Hoda Kotbe told a story about when she had just been diagnosed with cancer and didn’t want anyone to know, and someone said to her, “Don’t hog your journey. It’s not just for you.” It resonated. We all have different challenges in parenting and different degrees of tragedy we have to endure, but each of our journeys are valuable to one-another and should be shared, considered and appreciated.

Now it’s Friday night. I bathed my kids, picked up toys and dog poop in the playroom, sprayed some cleaner on the carpet, then sprayed some self tanner on my ghostly white skin. Here I sit in bed, typing around the sleeping child draped across me. The glow of Octonauts on TV and the computer screen are the only light in the room. Avery is off in her dreams and I am off in my thoughts, but we are alone together.

Avery and Mommy

Hashtag Game! @ThePumpAndDump Comedy Show

KC moms it’s time for another #MKMReal hashtag game and this time I’m giving away two tickets to the Pump and Dump Comedy show at the Improv KC on Wednesday, April 5! I will be there too 🙂

What is it?

THE PUMP AND DUMP SHOW AMERICA’S ORIGINAL MOMS’ NIGHT OUT VALIDATING “BAD MOMS” EVERYWHERE BY GATHERING EVERY KIND OF MOM IN ONE ROOM FOR ONE HELLUVA NIGHT!

 

The Pump and Dump Show is a one-of-a-kind, interactive, live production designed as the ultimate respite for parents everywhere. Original music includes songs like “Parental Lovin’,” “If Daddies Made Milk,” and “Eat Your F—ing Food.” Audience members (affectionately referred to as BREEDERS) play games like “Cervix Says” and “The Most F-ed Up Thing My Kid Has Done” to win bottles of wine and other fantastic prizes from local and national sponsors. The Pump and Dump Show’s 2017 Band of Mothers Tour continues its mission to spread mom karma, give high fives and uplift and encourage moms coast to coast.

 

To enter to win two tickets just post a picture of your real mom life and use the hashtag #MKMReal and tag @ThePumpAndDump

Example: Me waiting for my child to get out of the tub. #mkmreal @ThePumpAndDump

Emily Kuhlman 5

See you there!

The Pump and Dump Theme song

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xzD4xzbHckU

Lies we tell ourselves

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iyfd6thf4_E

Eat Your F-ing Food

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hMW97mHq9I4

#MKMreal Hashtag Game Winner!

 

Thank you so much to our sponsor Anna Needham for this fun idea! Make sure you check out annaneedham.myrandf.com to get your glow on. Rodan + Fields is the ISH and Anna is a knowledgeable, trustworthy, sweet Momma from Texas! Fun fact, I know Anna through her husband Ben who I grew up with in Stillwater. One time sophomore year we had a snow day, so like any reasonable people a few of our friends tied a sled to the back of a jeep and took turns riding on the snowy back roads, where I witnessed Ben hit a dead cat at such speed that the sled actually caught air. Because Oklahoma. That story had nothing to do with this contest, but when you see your friend hit a dead cat on a child’s sled you never skip the opportunity to retell it.

Soooo…on to the winner!

Congratulations to @CiminoFamily on winning your $75 credit to Rodan + Fields. You cracked us up with your multiple entries but this one definitely takes the cake. Also OUCH!

cimino

Other awesome entries:

hashtag-game

 

I seriously love you people.

5 Telltale Signs You Are A Sorority Mommy

There’s nothing moms and sorority girls love more than lists about moms and sorority girls. So it is with love and narcissism that I bring you this:

Sorority Mommy

1. You realize you don’t know the real lyrics to your preschooler’s favorite songs, only the “greek” versions from recruitment week. It turns out Poseidon doesn’t play a major a role in the song Mr. Golden Sun, as I was previously led to believe. In fact, he and his trident are not even mentioned. This resulted in an awkward moment during a sing-along in the car today which is what gave me the idea for this list.

Brick

2. Your kids are super impressed by how good you are at snapping your fingers but at some point they wonder why there’s a box of huge wooden paddles covered in puffy paint in the garage. (Because how creepy would that look to a child?!)

3. You LOVE finding out your mom friends were in sororities, until they tell you they were in that one house that was your rival in college and for an awkward second there’s a palpable disappointment in the air so you try to overcompensate by saying something like, “Pi Phi is so awesome! I have several friends who are Pi Phi’s!! If I had a son I would totally let him marry a Pi Phi someday!!! The Pi Phi’s are a gracious and hard-working people with a rich history and culture!!!!”

You occasionally find yourself judging all the toddlers on the playground by their parents’ greek affiliation…

“Look at Connor pounding that apple juice and acting like an animal. He’s obviously headed straight for the TKE house.”

“Is Savvy lifting up her skirt and showing everyone her My Little Pony underwear? Ugh. SUCH a Delta move. Where’s her Big Sis? She needs to have a talk with her before their whole house looks bad.”

4. You have to stop wearing your old greek t-shirts to the gym because they list the year and feature a bunch of outdated cultural references.

“NO I’m not wearing this ‘vintage’ Anchorman themed sorority t-shirt to be ‘ironic’ and I did NOT ‘score’ it at Goodwill.”

5. You THANK GOD EVERYDAY that no one had camera phones when you were in college and you fear for the future of the children in a fickle world of instant uploading and global connectivity.

Picture it, 2075:

Disposable Camera

“Listen to me, youngsters! Back in my schooldays if we wanted to post an embarrassing picture on the internet, we had to sober up, drive to a store, wait an hour to get a paper bag full of print outs — mostly of people with their eyes closed — scan them individually onto a computer in the ‘lab,’ and then figure out the intermediate-level coding required just to upload ’em to our freakin’ Xanga journals!”

*My grandkids ignore me as they eat their legal, marijuana-laced, transgender gummy bears.*

“Call me old fashioned, but I’ll stick with gin,” I say to no one in particular. Then I yell to my favorite grandchild, whichever one looks the most like me, “Honey, put on my DVD of Newlyweds: Nick and Jessica, would ya? And turn the volume all the way up! My good ear’s on the fritz!”

Annnd SCENE!