Category Archives: mom fail

No Mail Mom Fail

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A couple of months ago there was a note in Rylee’s cubby at school. I don’t remember the exact wording now, but it said something about Miss Sarah {her teacher} putting a mailbox {AKA empty tissue box with the word “mailbox” on it…3 year olds are SO gullible} on the window sill of their classroom and parents are welcome to leave notes for their kids that would be read aloud during circle time {remember this part, it will be important soon}.

“CUTE!” I thought. I took the note home and after it got shuffled between the counter, kitchen table and island a few times {I am so my father’s daughter} it must have mades it’s way into the recycle…where I proceeded to completely forget about it.

Now, fast forward to last week at school pick-up. I head to the big room to pick Ry up and we head into her classroom to grab her things. But, on this day, she got to be the LINE LEADER and had to take me over to the little pouch on the wall to show me that her name was in it!

Seriously! So! Exciting!

While we’re standing there chatting about how TOOL {cool} it was to be the line leader, in what I can now only assume is the spot the have their circle time, mid sentence she stops, puts her little hands on her little hips, lets out a little sigh/grunt and says totally distraught “I don’t get no mail ever!”

Forget about the fact that that was a total double negative…it only took about 2.5 seconds to sink in…and I felt like a big fat jerk and about 3 inches tall.

MOM FAIL!

Every other kid in my daughter’s class has been getting “mail” in their mailbox but her.

Fast forward again to drop off this morning.

There was a note stuffed into that empty facial tissue box mailbox.

She better love it.

Old pic, but this is SO what her attitude was summed up in photo form! She was PISSED!

Pity…party of one.

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These last few days I’ve just been in a funk. Last night it all seemed to be rising quickly to my breaking point and I had this great post I was writing in my head all about the crappy stuff and how tough my life is and woe is me. A regular old pity party.

Things like having a three year old who loves to push your buttons until she finds just the right one to make you snap. The stupid asshole dog got skunked again. My garden that I finally got under control and planted has decided to take a shit and none of my cucumbers sprouted and the beans all sprouted then died soon after. I’m ready to just cover that section back up with the winter cover and call it a day. And the weeds…oh the weeds. (I am completely convinced that weeds are another one of God’s way to punish Adam and Eve…and now us). And how my wonderful, hardworking husband came home from his 12 day trip to turn right around a few days later and work a 12 hour, then a 14 hour day on the rental…during my weekend. When I specifically requested he get help with Ry during the week so that we could have family time on the weekends. Then there was the realization that, after the rental project was over and the new renters are in, our focus is going to shift to all the other projects on the property that will have been neglected…like painting the barn and repainting the front of our house and mowing the grass on the back half of our property, and by the times that’s all done the front part will need to be brush hogged again. Plus that’s also on top of the regular mowing of our “yard”. Suddenly, all of the fun summer “to-dos” I had swirling around in my head seemed to come to a screeching halt.

Combine all that with the fact that I just went off of a medication I’d been on going on 3 years and my hormones are just all sorts of crazy and it was getting to me. Holy balls was it getting to me…

Then, last night after I put Rylee to bed, while Andy was (still) down working at the rental I picked up the phone and made a phone call. While there was nothing deep and philosophical about the conversation, it automatically made me feel better. The mini bowl of chocolate ice cream probably helped too.

After I hung up the phone I thought for a few minutes. And I prayed.

This whole shit storm? Guess what…it’s just life. And it’s a life that we chose.  Sure we might not get to go on all the amazing camping trips I had planned out in my head. But it doesn’t mean that we can’t go on one. And we can do plenty of other fun stuff. I need to stop being so selfish. It’s time for me to put my big girl britches on and suck it up.

We chose this.

P.S. Shout out to my very best friend Julia…my B. Just…thanks…

Wife Fail? Or Super Sweet?

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We decided to celebrate our Father’s Day as our little family of three on Saturday. Leaving Sunday to celebrate with our own dads.

The day went a little something like this:

  • Rylee wakes up at 7 AM. I get up with her.
  • Andy gets out of bed about 9:30 AM.
  • Father’s Day cards given to Andy before we leave for the day.
  • Starbucks drive-thru. Sure, sure, Andy doesn’t even like the smell of coffee, but, Happy Wife, Happy Life. Right?
  • Off and running to Cabela’s where we check out the newly opened store and Andy gets some new long underwear for his impending trip to AK.
  • From Cabela’s we head to the Springfield Police K-9 Unit annual competition. Very cool event. Ry loved it! We met up with some friends there. We knew one of the competitors (he won 1st place by the way!).
  • Ry fell asleep on the way home. Napped after we got home.
  • I made an awesome dinner of jerk-chicken and veggie kabobs and jasmine rice. 

That was pretty much that. An awesome day. So why the “wife fail” you ask? Well, let’s rewind a couple of weeks…

Rylee and I are at Target and we decide to pick up some Father’s Day cards. I am intently reading all the husband ones and letting Ry pick out her own. She finds one. I glance at it. It’s got a dog on the front holding a trophy that says “#1 DAD!”. Perfect. I tell her to put it in the cart.

We get home from Target and I hide the cards in my dresser. Saturday morning I pull the cards out of the dresser and hand Rylee’s card to her with a pen so she can “sign” in. I sign mine. Ry hands me her signed card. I put it in the envelope, she licks it and we head out to the living room to present Daddy with his specially picked out Father’s Day cards.

Andy opens Rylee’s card first. I’m sitting at the other end of the couch. He kinda smiles, let’s out a chuckle looks up at me and says…

“Happy Birthday!?…really Babe?”


Ok so…I never once actually READ the card Rylee had chosen for Andy. It wasn’t a Father’s Day card at all…whoops.


I think it’s safe to say that this will be a Father’s Day memory neither of us forget any time soon.


***For the record: Andy thought it was funny and he loves the card Rylee picked out for him.***

I can do this… I think I can do this… Can I do this?

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“Mommy, I have a question.” she says to me as we settle down in her room for the night. She’s had a bath, has fresh PJ’s on and has her head lying on her little sheep pillow.

“Ok, Ry, shoot.” I respond with a smile and a bit of a chuckle. {where does this kid come up with this stuff!?}

She sits up on her knees, looks me square in the eyes and says “So, how was your day?”

I pause for a quick second and actually think about it. I tell her I had a great day and ask her if she knows what my favorite part of it was.

“No, Mommy, what was your favorite?”

“My favorite part of my day was the special night we had tonight. We played ball outside… We laughed a lot… We ate ice cream… We read books… We had fun tonight, didn’t we?”

She smiles and says “yea…” lays her head down on the pillow then taps the bed right next to her and says “One more minute…”

As I lay there I think, I can totally do this.

This time next week Andy will be on his way to Alaska for his EPIC Alaskan Fishing trip with his dad and best friend. So while he’s off traveling the great state of AK for an adventure of a lifetime, I will be playing the single mom role.

With nights like last night it’s easy to think, “pshhh, this will be nuthin’!”

But then…I think back to Saturday. Oh how easily it all comes back to me.

The crying.
The screaming.
The hitting.
The timeouts.
More crying & screaming.
The anger.
The frustration.

The overwhelming feeling that I’m an awful mother who can’t even handle her own child.

Can I really do this? By myself? For 12 whole days?

Last night was great. Maybe it’s all mental? I was “ready” to have a fun night with just Rylee and me. Maybe it was the promise of ice cream after dinner?

By no means am I any sort of expert in the way of parenting, but here’s what I do know:

I am going to go into next week with a smile on my face and a freezer full of ice cream.

Steppin’ Out…well sort of…

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Today I am linking up with Mandy over at The Hap’s!

Yesterday was Andy’s school’s graduation. We got invited to a couple of grad parties. Since he had to be out the for the graduation itself the plan was for Rylee and I to head out there after her nap.

So while she slept I got all dolled up and ready to Step Out!

Then she woke up and decided to be a holy terror and we ended up not going. Cue the sad trombone.

I was able to snag a couple of pictures before I changed back into my jeans. Why waste the cute outfit, right?