All posts by justanotherweirdmomblog

7 ways having multiple toddlers is like being an inmate

1. The food. It stinks here in the clink. Know what I had for lunch yesterday? Lucky charms. And a cold leftover dinosaur chicken nugget off of someone’s high chair tray. Don’t get your hopes up for finer fair, the cook in the mess hall has been cleaning up feces graffiti off of cell block Beckett-And-Nora and her culinary senses apparently went out with the Lysol trash. 

2. Bathroom visits are supervised. Oh, what number 2 isn’t a spectator sport in your house?  Your wardens must be older than 2. 

3. Showering. Also supervised. And timed. For the love of everything holy don’t take longer than 5 minutes. All I can say is, I hope your wardens have more manners than mine do. Being laughed at hysterically while you soap up and shave the vitals in record time is not exactly my idea of a confidence booster. 

4. There’s a good chance you’ll get shanked.  Last week I took a bubble chiv to the eyeball, a trip to medic and I’m right back to the big house. Here’s the chiv, man… Look out for these.


The expression of total and utter unamusement on the minion reflects my sentiments exactly. 

5. Let me guess, any attempts today to snuggle your adorable wardens was met with cool indifference? Squirmy disinterest? Yeah well just you try and sneak out of the house later for a coffee. BAM! you’ve got yourself a pair of 25 lb human leg irons. One for each leg if you’re as lucky as I am. Any attempts at escaping with those things on is moot. 

6. Poop graffiti. It’s a real thing. 

7. Cell inspections. Be prepared to have all your personal effects scattered on the floor. They’ll probably steal your stuff too. 

But I think I’ve  just about gotten the elements figured out here in the big house.  They key here is bribery, blackmail and opportunistic distraction. 
This here is Major Beck. I know, he looks tough. But that’s just his exterior…all he needs is a pop tart and you’ve bought yourself enough time to brush your teeth.   

 See? He’s not even looking man…there’s your chance! 


Barbecue potatoe chips and chocolate milk. You might need a connection on the outside to procure these bribery tools…but you won’t be sorry. You’re looking at a cool ten minutes of contentment. 


Watch out for the unicorn though. It’s always watching.  

  The Big Chief. 

Blackmail gold. Level: Expert


I’m apparently  a social media nuisance 

 I have seen the same article circulating the interwebs a lot lately. I’d say this week alone I’ve seen it half a dozen times, and it’s only Tuesday. 

So either it’s a dang good read or someone’s trying to tell me something. The article is titled 5 Questions to Ask Before Posting to Social Media. Here’s the the link if you want to give it a gander for yourself.

What I took away from reading this is that you are only allowed to post about two topics and still remain social media acceptable:

1. Prayer requests

2. Recipes 



I get that there’s some annoying posters out there, and I fully include myself in that category as I post the bajillionth photo of my children today at 9:47 am, but seriously y’all…lets throw each other some bones. 

I have the undeniable blessing of staying home with my kids. Never mind the fact that I hid in the bathroom yesterday and simultaneously cried while I ate my chocolate lunch. But seriously sometimes this is the only way my mom friends and I have to relate to one another during the day. Just because I post that I’m freaking stoked about my vacation doesn’t mean I’m bragging…it means I took a bubble wand to the eyeball last week, my husband and I haven’t had a conversation in months without having miniature limbs in our faces, and the demands of school schedules, pediatrician appointments and baseball has us tired and ready to rest. We’ve been wise and frugal with our finances all year so we could take this vacation and bottom line? We’re excited. 

When my friend, who is a brand new mother, posts a a modest picture of her cradling her sweet new nursing baby I’m not immediately tsk tsk’ing her for sharing private moments…instead I see a new mom relishing those intoxicating moments of brand new motherhood. 

Seriously y’all, we have the power to control our outlooks.

Just because my girlfriend vents about the guy that cut in line at the grocery store doesn’t mean she’s being ungracious or uncaring….it means she lugged her three preschoolers to the store to buy groceries so she could prepare a meal for her husband when he got home from work and some shmuck decided to make an unpleasant experience all the more unpleasant with his rudeness, and by cracky she just needed to tell somebody about it. 

I’m not just talking about stay at home moms here either…working moms have my utmost respect. Honestly I have no idea how they do it. So when they post a picture of their beautiful new minivan or their drool worthy Kate Spade bag, my knee jerk reaction isn’t jealousy…it’s freaking HECK YEAH you work, you manage a house, sports schedules and nurture a relationship with your husband all while helping bread-win for your family…you freaking earned that shiny new swagger wagon. Own it, sista. 

Currently I’m a human recliner 

I think more than asking ourselves questions about how our posts are going to affect everyone else, I think we should ask ourselves why am I reacting this way? 

It’s common sense not to be mean to each other on here, but seriously I’m not all about not sharing my joyous, hilarious, jubilant moments with my friends and family becauseit might annoy or hurt someone’s feelers. That’s something they need to reflect on, not me. 

Livin tha dream

What a weekend! We did normal things. It felt so nice to have a normal weekend after all of the stressful craziness we have had lately. 

Isabella had a softball game then she went to a sleepover, so the rest of us just chilled out at home. 

I was able to get my raised beds prepped for planting, and had lots of help. The twins ate dirt and dug for worms. 



  This little princess…she’s full of sass and afraid of nothing. Except lawn mowers. She hates lawn mowers. 

It’s probably bad that I busted a gut over this picture…someone bring me my Mother-of-the Year trophy!!! 

They left a ring around the tub that night. I love letting my kids be kids. 

We’re all loving watching Bella enjoy softball, she’s really found her thing. She and David have practiced a lot and it shows! She makes me proud.  


Beckett likes to be near the action, he idolizes his big sis. I think he’s already day dreaming of when it will be his turn.  

A quick hug for good luck! 


Just a boy in a superhero cape, clutching his bat and wishing he could play too. 

My kids are rotten little punks. My house currently looks like it’s been robbed, Bella rolled her eyes at me this evening, and today Nora drew blood on Beckett’s ear fighting him over a tube of Chapstick. I’m so lucky they’re mine. I love ’em to the moon and back. 

Greetings and salutations! 

Welcome to my new digs! I swore I wouldn’t do it. I told myself I wouldn’t create yet ANOTHER blog. But every time I proclaimed as much my self just stared back at me blankly, so here we are. My self has a habit of being a bit defiant. And a buzzkill. My self is kinda a buzzkill. 

Mom blogs are a dime a dozen, and as much as I’d like to think I’m so different and original…I know I’m just another weird mom blog. So as you can see, I got real creative with the name on this one. 

Life’s changing fast and I have a lot to say about things. I also need an outlet after spending my days at home wiping boogers off of things, feeding people, transporting miniature humans to their respective engagements and picking up the incessant balled up dirty socks off the floor. There’s nothing else I’d rather be doing and nowhere else I’d rather be I might add, but it’d be great not to pounce on my husband the minute he walks in the door, with every menial thought that’s gone unshared throug my head that day. He will be so excited. We might even start talking about things that don’t involve Barney or Elmo! 

Let’s not get too carried away, self…

All you mamas hear me, you know where I’m at…