Hats Off

I am a stay-at-home home mom with three children ages; four, two, and eight-months old. To say the least, life can be a bit hectic around here. On top of the daily chaos, we are in the process of building an addition on to our home. It is at this very crucial moment, when I have my littlest one slung upon my side, and I am speaking with our contractor, about something of great importance, when I hear, “No Colton!” Out of her room marches my four-year-old daughter - wearing a dress up hat with some sort of liquid dripping off of it. It is then, in front of the contractor, I learn that my two-year-old son has peed into her hat! And yes, the pee was now dripping down on to the floor in front of me, and mortifyingly enough, right next to the contractor himself!

Cherise C.

Merriam-Webster

My husband and I took our grand kids to the mall - it was there that our grandson, Austin, received his very first dictionary from Grandpa. A dictionary we sure would provide a wonderful educational experience for him. So here we are, in a very crowded mall, allowing Austin’s little sister to play in the children’s indoor play area while the three of us sat in the outer-lying seats dedicated for their caregivers. It is there that Austin opens his dictionary loudly and clearly pronouncing the word "Virgin!” for all to hear. Then he went on to read the definition, again quite loudly, in front of everyone, “A person, typically a woman, who has never had sexual intercourse.” To this new plethora of knowledge we abruptly found our grand daughter and swiftly left the children’s play area red-faced.

Kim W.

Learning to Trust

We were living in England, on an Air Force Base, and I was noticing that my seven-year-old daughter was trusting people just by the fact they lived on the base. Well, most people (in general) are trustworthy, but I didn’t want Pamela to think she could just blindly trust people. So at one point we had new neighbors, with three children, moving in next door. My daughter and the three children were outside playing, in the front yard, where I could see them. Pamela then came in and asked if she could go over to their house to play. Well, I hadn’t met the parents yet, and I explained to Pamela that you don’t just go into a stranger’s house - that I needed to meet the parents first to make sure I felt comfortable. The discussion ended and so I thought she understood my explanation. A couple of days later the mom came over and asked if the family had done something to offend me in some way. I was completely taken off guard, “No of course not!,”  I replied.  She then told me that her daughter had asked Pamela if she could come over to play; to which Pamela replied, “No, I can’t come in your house because my mom doesn’t trust you.” My face turned beet red - I was just so embarrassed. I quickly explained that I was just trying to teach Pamela not trust just anyone, and luckily this mother completely understood, and said she thought maybe that was the case. We were friends and great neighbors after that, but I definitely learned to watch exactly what I said, to my daughter, from that point on!

Lisa J.

photo credit: http://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://www.smartgivers.org/sites/623b9026-c292-4f47-9b9d-8aac6d22782d/uploads/Trust.1_2.jpg&imgrefurl=http://www.smartgivers.org/Survey.html&h=2400&w=3000&sz=738&tbnid=bay6hXo9t94J::&tbnh=120&tbnw=150&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dtrust%2Bphoto&sa=X&oi=image_result&resnum=2&ct=image&cd=1edit:

Shiz-Da-Burger

I was on the phone one day and I was talking to my brother about what to buy his daughter for her birthday. I didn't know that my four-year-old daughter was within ear-shot of me. In the middle of my conversation the word S--- came out of my mouth! When I saw my daughter's face, I quickly and awkwardly edited my word to Shitzdaburger. I don't know why, I just couldn't come out with anything else. My daughter asked me, "Mommy, what is a shiz-da-burger"? I answered," It's just a blouse that I want to get Kaylee." That afternoon we went to a department store to buy my niece a present. I was looking at some blouses and some other moms and kids were looking around as well ... all of a sudden my daughter yells out, "Mom, that shitzdabuger looks nice!" "Let's get that one, Kaylee would just love that shiz...shiz-da-burger." I was laughing inside like crazy but everyone was just looking at her and me like we were nuts ... my cheeks turned beet red and everything.

Rosalind V.

photo credit: http://www.amazon.com/Newport-News-Billowy-sleeve-tunic-blouse/dp/B000VOEX44

Happy Birthday Mom! (It really is my birthday today!)

Today is my birthday so posting this mom's story is appropriate for the occasion:

It was the eve of my thirty-seventh birthday and my two sons; John, age seven, and Danny, age four, were excited for the day to arrive. Not because it was a day to celebrate me, but because they knew a birthday celebration always involved cake! It was the usual bedtime routine for the boys ... but as they climbed into bed, Danny mentioned he had a bellyache. I downplayed his plight (as moms and dads often do) and told him that a goodnight sleep was just the cure! The kids drifted off to sleep and I did the same. The next morning was MY day, I got my tennis outfit on and by eight-o'clock I hear the kids scrambling to open my bedroom door …. quick as a flash, my youngest, races towards me with his arms out wide in preparation for the ceremonial birthday squeeze … I knelt down to embrace him … and before he could finish saying, “Happy Birthday Mommy,” I was covered from head-to-toe in puke! The projectile vomit went down my tennis dress, into my sneakers, into my ears, up my nose, and yes … other places! My oldest, John, just stood in the door in amazement and said in a very low voice, “You mean Happy Barf-day.” It goes without saying that my friends played tennis without me. I spent my entire birthday nursing my sick son and cleaning vomit up from all over him, our clothes, the rug, and myself. It’s amazing how some smells can linger for days. Now, each year on my birthday, my kids (especially Danny) will always laugh and say, “Do you remember when I threw up on you on your birthday?” I wonder how they think I could ever forget that?

Susan S., N.Y.

photo credit: http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1264/1099454450_73e5b21f5c.jpg

Museum Mishap

I was vacationing, in Chicago, and decided to take in a museum, I also had my five-year-old daughter with me. Sometime thorough out the day she had to use the bathroom and when she came out (of the stall) I realized she was missing her underwear. It was nothing more than her forgetting to put it on that morning when she got dressed. So we are touring the museum (in a group) and we all stop to observe an item on display; the tour guide stops speaking and my daughter raises her hand. At this point I am super impressed that she is going to ask or say something about the artwork. Instead, standing there in her dress, she says, "My under wear is in the bathroom over there ..." I turned 100 shades of red.

Debbie N.

photo credit: http://cache.gawker.com/assets/images/9/2006/10/artmsueuempeople.jpg

Watch What You Say!

It’s one of those things we all dread - the requested conference with your child’s teacher. My son was in elementary school and his teacher asked if we could please meet her after school - without our son present. A million things go through your mind, so when we finally met, it was bittersweet. Relief from all the unknown pressure but embarrassing at the call for explanation. Our son, while playing on the playground, yelled at a little girl, “Get the hell over here! I haven’t got all day to wait for you!” I am sure that his teacher thought our home was teeming with domestic, verbal abuse. Even so, I was very embarrassed when I suddenly realized where this came from, and had to explain, “That’s exactly what I say, to our dog, in our early morning rush when he bolts into the backyard and doesn’t come back when I call him!!!” Yikes!

Amanda

photo credit: http://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://www.petexpertise.com/images/come

Not So Hip - Hippo

I was in Wal-Mart shopping with my son, age-nine, my husband and my almost-two-year-old daughter. Of course it was a busy time in the store and my son decided that this was the best time to tell me a joke - told in the mind-frame of elementary school boys from third to fifth grade. Mind you he is only nine and as far as I am aware he does not understand the exact meaning or context of the joke. So he proceeds, loud enough for other people to hear, and definitely loud enough to make it embarrassing,"Hey mom - how do you hump a rhinoceros?” I am half way paying attention to what he just said, so I reply with a matter-of-fact, “I don't know...” to show I was at least listening. He then gave me the answer, straight up, which was, "You have to do it from the back." He burst into laughter ... but I stopped dead in my tracks since I spotted three elderly people turning their heads to see who had just said this extremely inappropriate thing!! I turned bright red and called my son over to me and asked him to repeat the first part of the joke. After getting him to stop laughing, I explained to him how inappropriate it was and to never say things like that again. When I asked him where he got “this lovely joke’ he replied, as always, “A boy in school.” So for those of you who have younger children who cause embarrassing moments, just a little heads up ... it gets much worse! Thanks for letting me share.

Heather S.

photo credit: http://www.junglephotos.com/africa/afanimals/mammals/hippo.jpg

Eau de Toilette

My daughter was in the process of potty training at age two-and-a-half. We had a house full of company and I had just finished helping her put her pants back on after she went to the bathroom. She told me to stay still and when she came back (as I helped her get dressed) she patted my face with her wet hands while saying, “Mommy, I ‘keen’ your face.” I wondered why her hands were wet so I asked where she got the water - she took me straight to the toilet and said, “Right der.” “Eckkkkkk!,” was all I could say!

Carol W.

Disney Downdraft

My husband & I took our son (who at the time was 5 years old) to Disney World for the first time. As we were walking through Epcot, past Mexico and heading towards China, my husband let one rip!! That's right, he passed wind, gas, pooted, blew kisses out of his toosh, or whatever cute name you use in your household!! My son, apparently disgusted at the fact this had occurred, shouted at the top of his lungs, "Daddy! You're not allowed to fart in Disney World!" My husband was so embarrassed and I couldn't help but laugh..the people around us thought it was funny too (or their face was distorted from catching my husband's down wind). My husband immediately tried to "shush" our son, but I had to give my baby kudos for trying to keep Disney World the Happiest Place on Earth...even for those who caught wind of my husband that day!!

Heather L.

Stinky Santa

My oldest son, five-years-old, was so excited to visit Santa this year. So at the shopping mall, my husband, two boys, and I, all waited in line to get a photo of both boys with jolly St. Nick. When it was our turn I set my five-year-old son on Santa’s lap and he politely told Santa what he wanted for Christmas. When he finished with “his list” Santa handed him a candy cane but my son immediately handed it back to him. Then my son honestly declared, “Your breath stinks, you should eat this.” As I gasped, in embarrassment, my son says, with much inflection, " What Mom? It does stink, it really, really does!" The man taking the pictures almost fell over from laughing so hard; the line full of kids and parents were all laughing and snickering too. Please don’t hold this against us Santa!

Kim J.

Speechless

I am at a friend’s home, watching the super bowl, and the home is full of guests. My son and my friend’s son are having a pajama party, as the adults sit around the T.V. munching on snacks. The kids are running around playing, having a great time until my four-year-old son stops right in front of the snack tray and begins to ‘dig’ into his rear end with his hand; thank goodness the pajama acted as a barrier; still it was quite ‘an embarrassing moment.’ I try to intervene and make light of the whole thing. “Honey,” I said, “do you have an itchy bottom?” Quite calmly he shot back, “No mommy, it’s my butt hole that itches.” I was rendered speechless.

Meg K.

Whiz Kids

My mother-in-law is a proper Southern woman, and therefore I would become a little nervous with her around my “not so proper” boys. I was in my kitchen with her one afternoon when I happened to glance over her shoulder, and my eyes zeroed in on two naked rear ends, standing on the balcony, off in the distance! After the initial shock, I realized that my four-year-old son was teaching my three-year-old son how to pee off the second-floor balcony onto the grass below. How fun and exciting it must have been for them! Long story short, I found something really interesting to distract my mother-in-law on the other side of the house!

Rene’ H
 

 

First Impressions

My family and I just moved across the country to California. I was at the playground, with my four-year-old daughter, getting to know some moms in the neighborhood. So here we are with: other local moms, their children, and my daughter, Scarlett. After playing for thirty minutes, Scarlett comes running towards me and says, "Mommy, I’m thirsty. Can I have a drink from your cup?"  My daughter is blessed with a loud voice, probably from competing with her three big brothers, and so she grabs my cup of coffee - then stops dead in her tracks. She suddenly blurts out, "Wait, is this wine again?!"  I was totally shocked, not to mention completely embarrassed, as all the other moms looked at me wondering if I was the closet lush! Which I am not.

Allyson L.

photo credit:
http://pastydancer.com/wp/wp-content/uploads/2007/07/wine-glass.jpg

What Am I Again?

To understand this story, I have to briefly indulge you on my heritage. My father’s side is 100% pure Cherokee Native American Indian. My mother’s side has no influence in this story, but you need to know my maiden name has the word “black” in it. I come from a very sarcastic, teasing, yet loving family. Growing up I thought I looked like no one else in the family. For years I thought I was adopted because my older sister, fictitious told me, that I came from Indians - I believed her. Now fast forward a number of years. On one hot summer day, my sister rallied up the family at her home for a barbecue. During the meal, my sister reminisced about the mental torture she inflicted on my childhood. The whole family was laughing, listening to all the demented stories, and my sister felt it was the perfect time to bring up the adopted Native American story. The climatic moment of my sister’s pure bliss came to a screeching halt when my son proudly yelled out, “ My mommy was NOT adopted! She is very proud to be an African American!” Tears began streaming down some of my family members’ eyes. My son stood up for me and I was so honored ... wait a minute, did he say African American? One thing I forgot to mention is that I am also Caucasian. Yes, my son took it upon himself to add Native American plus my maiden name, with the word “black” in it and come up with my being a “proud African American!” Side splitting laughter came from everyone but my son - he was so confused. My sister came to his rescue and said, “Sweetie, do you know what an African American is?” “No,” my son bluntly replied. “An African American is a black person honey.” Well, my son’s proud demur fell fast and his face turned four shades of red as he uttered, “Oh, never mind then.”

Heather L.

photo credit: http://www.bigpinkquestionmark.org/bpqm2.jpg/bpqm2-full.jpg