Throwback of Throwbacks!

I recently rediscovered my original “Short and Feisty” blog–the one before I switched over to this shiny new model in December of 2012. It’s been pretty eye opening traveling back in time to discover what 2009 “Me” thought of her world as a college junior. It’s also pretty cringe-worthy when I look back at the awfully written prose (though, it’s nice to see how far I’ve come!).

My life is a bit up in the air right now with lots of transitions and long, long 10 hour days–7 days a week, so I thought it would be fun to share some of my oldies but goodies (with absolutely no editing allowed!).

It’s also been pretty funny to see where I thought my life was headed back then. Take, for instance, this blog from July of 2009. Much has changed in my life since then, but I think I’d still be a tad disappointed to realize I am still wiping butts for money:

“Why I Researched Child Exorcism”–July 22, 2009

As shown in my previous blog, I could very easily don the title of professional babysitter if I wanted to spend the rest of my life cleaning snotty noses and changing dirty diapers. Instead, I’ll hold off on that job description for another 10 years and eventually inherit the title “Mom” and do all of those things without getting paid (gee whiz, my best idea yet!). Most of the kids I babysit are pretty run of the mill as far as entertainment goes. A lot of the older kids just want to be left alone or just want to watch a movie. The younger ones enjoy wholesome games like Leggo building, reading, or coloring. All in all, babysitting is probably the easiest money I have ever made. I am paid to have fun! But babysitting Baby W was like babysitting a resident of the Gotham Asylum.

Everything started off normally. Well, it was a little off kilter in that I was babysitting Baby W at a resort time share instead of his house. His mother was throwing a baby shower at the house and didn’t want Baby W around (which I didn’t understand because he was so calm when I met him :P). So get to the time share and meet Mr. W (which is weird because usually the moms do the baby exchange) who is incredibly nice and gives me the run down of what is going on for the night: Baby W is 3 years old, the baby shower is at the house, they’ll be gone until about 8, the resort has a pool that Baby W might like to swim in, and he needs help going potty because he isn’t yet potty trained. CHECK! I am ready for the night.

Baby W and I successfully swam in the pool and he was unusually quiet for a 3 year old. He couldn’t swim, of course, so it was mostly just me sitting on the pool stairs with him. I wasn’t taking any chances going any further; babies are slippery little suckers and he didn’t have any floaties. We get back to the room and I feed him his dinner according to the “special diet” that his mother has him on (don’t ask me what it is because I couldn’t tell you from just looking at the hamburger helper and assorted Gerber products). Then, I swear one of Satan’s helpers flew in through the glass sliding door and took possession of this child. First, he started screaming as loud as he could in a shriek that would shame a banshee. He wasn’t upset, in fact he laughed hysterically after every squeal. When I told him to stop, he would just get louder. When I tried to distract him with a toy or TV show, he would spit at me-yes, I said spit. He thought that was hilarious and started spitting, literally hocking loogies, on the furniture. I put him in the corner for “time-out” and he thought it was a game. This kid obviously had never been disciplined and immediately reverted to his previous psychotic behavior. I wouldn’t normally worry about the decibel of his voice, but we were at a resort with really paper thin walls and I didn’t want anyone calling social services. Unfortunately, the happy resolution is that when he stopped screaming for thirty seconds, his dad showed up and it was all over. A tidy ending to a messy experience.


Sunday Giggles.

Leaving this here without comment.

If you can relate to this video, having cared for little furry creatures of your own, pass this along to someone else to brighten their day.


Lost in Preschool Translation v. 1

And now it’s time for a new segment on the blog: Lost in Preschool Translation. Here, I will document some of the crazy/hilarious/mind boggling things the children in my life have said to me.

This conversation was between me and a 4 year old during dinner.

Me: Hey, what’s your favorite food?

Kid: Bishticks.


Kid: [Louder as if I couldn’t hear her before] BISHTICKS!

Me: So fish sticks?


Me: What do they looks like?

Kid: They’re round and you take them apart and they’re fluffy.


Felt like I won the million dollar question after deciphering that one.


An Ode to the SAHM

One of my friends and readers pointed out that one of my previous posts seems to shine a negative opinion on mothers that opt-out of the workforce. The Stay at Home Mom (SAHM).

So totally not my intention, you guys! I’m deeply sorry if it came off that way.

In my post, I was reflecting on a topic that seems to constantly flow through my brain like ticker-tape. That is, to find a guy (any guy), get married, and devote my life to my kids because I’m too scared to reach for a goal where the odds aren’t at all in my favor (yep, I’m re-reading “The Hunger Games” Trilogy).

It was in no way meant to make the SAHM out to be some crappy alternative for when your plans don’t work out. I know a plethora of women that choose to stay home and raise and educate their children. Many of these women in my acquaintance are complete badasses and could run rings around most other people with the amount of energy and dedication they place into their family.

For me, though, I know I would suck at it. Even as a rich SAHM, I would drop the ball.

And here are just some of the reasons why:

  • I am not a selfless being--right now, I’m all the family that I have to take care of. There is no way I could put the best interests of my children (and significant other) in front of my own.
  • I have not the patience— yes, I am a full-time nanny to two children under four. This does require an inordinate amount of patience. HOWEVER, at the end of the day, after the 1000th tantrum, I hand those kiddos over to their mother and father and say sayonara!
  • I’m not that skilled–Cooking is something entirely new to me and I’m just passing the “boil water” phase. Cleaning is something I do naught at all (Hoarders: Buried Alive has been asking me to sign a contract for decades). The general fix-it-ness of most SAHMs that I know didn’t quite make it into my DNA. Budgeting for an entire family on one income isn’t something I would be able to master. And speaking of money matters:
  • I’m too much of an impulsive buyer–I realize that when working off of one income for an entire family, budgeting becomes a factor. Although my bills are paid regularly, I will admit that I do have several items in my possession that nobody needs (I’m looking at you, LEGO Diagon Alley). One day, I’d be sitting at home in front of Amazon Prime and BOOM, there goes Ullyses’s tuition for the month on a pair of Moon Shoes and a diamond encrusted cocktail shaker.
  • PROCRASTINATION–Little Chauncey doesn’t need a bath today, he had one two days ago. I’ll just keep reading this Harlequin romance novel while Little Ferguson gnaws away at that extension cord (it is pretty thick). What’s that? The dishes are piled so high in the sink that it looks like some strange homage to the Leaning Tower of Pisa? Well, one more plate won’t hurt.

There are many more aspects and facets to the SAHM, you guys, but the above are just a few of the reasons why that path just wouldn’t work out for me. I’d drive myself just as crazy as my children would.

But there is a very rare subset of woman out there that completely ROCKS the SAHM path and I just wanted to give the ones I know a shout-out. Y’all are awesome.


This is true for me, though.