Modern Mom Bloggers

Drama Mama

Liz Fenton, along with her best friend of 20 years Lisa Steinke, co-wrote the Chick Lit novel "I'll Have Who She's Having" and created the popular Chick Lit is Not Dead blog. She lives in California with her husband and two kids.

Drama Mama

Mommy Is Tired!

Posted by lizfenton at 8/24/2010 2:48 PM PDT

Remember the days you thought 7am was oh-so early?

When you used to spend all day Sunday on the couch watching VH1?

I used to think I knew what being tired felt like-something I could cure by sleeping in until noon the next day or adding an extra shot to my Americano. But then I started having children. And I've been tired in some capacity ever since!

And it's not just me. Everyone around me with kids under five just seem like they would happily curl up into a ball and take a catnap if given the chance. And all the B12 in the world doesn't seem to make it any better. Believe me, I've tried the shot in my ass, the pill and even that new nasal B12. And I'm still tired!

My now three-year-old didn't sleep AT ALL the first year and I used to walk around like a zombie, wearing my exhaustion like a badge of honor, daring anyone within fifty feet to try to compete with my tiredness. I quickly discovered that long-term sleep deprivation made me a humorless beyotch with bad skin.

Had to wake up at 6am to make it to Yogalates? Boo F'ing Hoo!

Stayed out too late with the girls and had to recover by watching SATC on TBS for four hours straight the next day? I'm hatin' on you just a little bit.

Anytime anyone over the age of ten gets to take a daytime nap? Super. Insanely. Jealous.

And even though most nights my munchkins now sleep peacefully, (although sadly WILL NOT sleep past 6am, no matter how late we keep them up) I still find myself tired most of the time. Not the bone-aching, mind-numbing newborn baby tired, but more like a constant feeling like I'd like to stop whatever I'm doing and go lie in bed. Which btw, is a very impractical thought when you're in the middle of a presentation at work. Or in the middle of a conversation with, well, ANYONE!

And while I recognize that heading out for a jog or spending some time at the gym would help this problem, I just can't seem to find the time or motivation to drag myself there. The thought of waking up at 4am to go the the gym makes me want to take a free weight and punch the person in the face who suggested it. Or wrap them up in a Pilates mat and roll them down a hill. Or use them as my kickboxing class punching bag.

And don't even get me started on that research that claims you need to get at least seven and a half hours of sleep each night in order to lose weight. Another strike against any mommy trying desperately to take off those last eight pounds. Clearly a man came up with that sh*t!

So until I reach that promised land where my children are able to wake up and get dressed without parental assistance, I will remain slightly tired at all times. And I'd like to give Lisa a big shout out for enduring MANY early morning bitchface emails from me! Sorry! I should be banned from any forms of communication besides grunting before 7am.

So to all you tired mommies out there, this one's for you. Let's band together in our slight everyday crankiness. Tired Mommies Unite!

And for those of you who think this post is kinda bitchy, sorry! I was super tired when I wrote it. =)

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Potty Peril

Posted by lizfenton at 5/11/2010 2:53 PM PDT

People that know me well will tell you that I'm not a scaredy cat by nature. That I laugh in the face of danger! Okay, so maybe I don't laugh at it, but I will snicker at it occasionally.

But I must admit there are a few things that strike fear in my heart. Things that are so horrible that I get a shiver down my spine just thinking of them. Things like bad bikini waxes and colon cleanses. Or the thought of Britney and K-Fed getting back together. Or something else that I experienced and lived to blog about.

Potty Training

Okay, so maybe I'm being slightly melodramatic. After all, my daughter figured it out in three hours flat. We were shopping at Target and getting our nails painted by 3pm! But this time around, we weren't dealing with a sweet, people-pleasing little girl. We were dealing with a dick. Well, um, I mean a penis. Well, what I really mean is that he has a penis. And I was tasked with showing that stubborn little boy what to do with it.

After this experience, I'm shaking my head at the assumption that men are supposed to be the superior gender. Whoever said that has obviously never potty trained one! I'm definitely voting for Hilary next time.

And while I was happy to report that things were going well after an incredibly rocky start,(who knew that they were supposed to sit down on the potty? Sorry! I've only seen it done standing up!) I thought I would share some pearls of wisdom that came to me during that tense first 48 hours.

Liz's Potty Pearls of wisdom

1. Take the time to give proper names to anatomy so that your daughter doesn't keep telling your son to push his "vagina stick" down so he doesn't pee all over the floor.

2. Okay, so the first time he took a dump in his Hulk underwear I thought he just didn't get it. The second time I questioned my potty game plan. The third time, I realized he was just f*cking with me. Typical man!

3. Don't go out drinking the night before, no matter how much fun that harbor cruise sounds. Keeping your gag reflex in check is a lot harder with a hangover. (See number 2.)

4. I know I already mentioned this, but it must be said again: Why doesn't anyone tell you about the whole sitting down thing? And watching him shove his penis down like a bag of weed he's trying to hide? I'll never be the same again.

5. What? He's just asked me to leave the bathroom so he could have his "privacy"? Is this same kid that peed on his bike two hours ago? I see that like most men, it didn't take him too long to get "cocky". (pun intended.)

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Mommy is doing the best she can, honey.

Posted by lizfenton at 5/4/2010 12:45 PM PDT

I can't tell you how many times I repeated that phrase to my four-year old while visiting my Mom this past weekend. Swimming nonstop for 6 hours straight combined with the fact that I overcooked her mac and cheese and forgot to pack her favorite Hello Kitty underwear really sent her over the edge.

And I didn't miss the small smile forming on my mother's lips as she watched Miss R demand the crust be taken off her bread or when she told me that my singing "hurt her ears". (In her defense, I am a TERRIBLE singer. But still.)

Come on people. It didn't take a mind reader to know what my mom was thinking while she had that smirk on her face.

Finally! It's payback time, beyotch!

Yes, it's true. Growing up, I had a tendency to be somewhat of a little bitchface at times to my mother, who in all fairness, was a wonderful parent. Hell, even now, I sometimes speak to her like a spoiled teenage brat, rolling my eyes and saying, "Whatevuh, Mom!" whenever she harps on me for not taking a daily multi-vitamin or reminds me that osteoporosis runs in our family.

And normally, occasional meltdowns from my kids when they are overly exhausted don't really phase me. But I just finished Tori Spelling's MOMMYWOOD last week and now every perceived injustice from my daughter has me paranoid. You see, My girl Tori has got some serious mama drama and she's obsessed with righting the perceived wrongs from her childhood. Specifically, things that her mother Candy did. And that obsession seems to control most of the parenting decisions that she makes.

Candy made Tori wear her hair in a bob for most of her childhood? Well, her daughter Stella is going to grow her hair down to her ass like some crazy hippie!

Candy had incredible costumes made every Halloween? Well, Tori is ordering hers from *gasp* Pottery Barn Kids! Take that, Candy!

By the end of the book, I felt bad for Tori. And not because she had some terrible childhood, (I'm sorry, but while giving your child Madame Alexander dolls may be lame, it's not child abuse!) but because she has let her mother's flaws as a parent have such power over her, even as an adult.

And if Tori and I were BFFs, (Does it count that I know someone who knows someone who is in her Mommy and me class?) I'd give her this small pearl of wisdom:

No matter what you do or how hard you try, you're going to F*CK up your kids somehow. That while you may be successful in not screwing them up the same way your parents did, I assure you that they will find all new ways to be screwed up. It's just the way it is. All you can do is love them and do the best you can!

So there you go, Tori. The answer to all your problems. No need to thank me, girl.

And in tribute to my own mother, I've complied a list of all the ways I'm probably scarring my own children for life. I'm thinking it will come in handy when my daughter pens her first tell-all.

MOMMY IS VERY SORRY THAT...
1. Mommy is very sorry about Goofy the guinea pig's death. And despite what you told everyone at preschool, I did not feed her poison spinach

2. Mommy is sorry that she dared to speak while you were watching Spongebob. I know that it was a very pivotal moment where you were about to discover the secret "Krabby Patty" ingredient.

3. Mommy is very sorry that her tater tots don't taste the same as the ones they serve at preschool. You would think that all over-processed frozen potato products would taste the same. But as you mentioned, theirs are "yummy" and mine are "disgusting". Actually, you told me that they were IS-UG-STING. But I knew what you meant.

4. Mommy is very sorry that she doesn't want to get her hair wet at the pool. But, seriously, have you seen what Mommy's hair looks like when it air dries? And on a side note, I'm sorry to break the news you may have the same problem on your hands in the future. And don't go blaming that one on me, girlfriend. Even Mommy can't control genetics!

5. Mommy is very sorry she didn't eat the thousand-calorie banana bread your class worked very hard on at the Mother's day breakfast. All I can say is that I hope you inherit your Grandmother's metabolism!

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